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painted-bees · 1 year ago

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A quick, sloppy little comic about Magritte

[OC's]

(image description under the cut)

[Image Description: It's a vertical comic strip of 14 panels arranged one under the other. The style is realistic, done with sketchy lines in a dark burgundy. It is not colored or shaded and there is no background. The comic features the interactions of a couple, Magritte (also called Margie) and Rafael (also called Raf). Magritte is a young woman, she is wearing a baggy armhole tank top with a tight fitting black top underneath, shorts and boots. She has a messy bun and a small messenger bag slung over her left shoulder. Rafael is her partner, wearing baggy pants, sneakers, fingerless gloves, V-neck t-shirt and an open button-up jacket with a hoodie and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair has short side with long top bangs and a short goatee.

(First panel): There's only Magritte visible from the waist up. Off screen, Raf says to someone else: “Magritte has our tickets.” Magritte is excited, looking straight forward. Her left hand in on her bag's strap, her right hand rummaging inside her bag. Magritte says: "Yeah! Even made sure to put them in my wallet so that I wouldn't- uh..."

(Second panel): She is beginning to look concerned, now with her face turned to her back, both left hand holding the lip to open the bag wider and her right hand still rummaging inside. Magritte says: "wouldn't forget.... Hang on, it's not on it's usual pocket. Haha." The last is a nervous laughter.

(Third panel): Magritte is kneeling on the ground. Rafael is standing to the side and behind her, only his feet visible. Magritte looks frantic, searching inside her bag. Her right arm is forearm deep digging in her bag. Magritte says: "It's definitely here-! It's the one thing I never forget 'cus I never take it out of my bag!" Rafael says, firmly: "Margie, when you took it out to put the tickets in, did you put the wallet back in the bag?" The letters are bolded, with the word "back" underlined for emphasis. Magritte says: "Give me some credit, there's no way I'm that stupid." The last three words are underlined for emphasis.

(Fourth panel): The scene has changed and now Magritte and Rafael are in a car. We see them from the passenger's side. Rafael is driving, looking straight ahead at the road. Magritte is hunched forward, hugging herself with the left hand. Her right hand is holding her head. She is looking out the passenger window, avoiding Raf.

(Fifth panel): Rafael turns slightly to look at Magritte.

(Sixth panel): The point of view is now a side profile view from the drivers side. Rafael has his left arm leaning on the open window, his right hand on the wheel. Magritte is hunched over facing the passenger window. Rafael says: "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about." Magritte says: "I can literally feel your disappointment."

(Seventh panel): Back to the passengers side, Rafael is looking at the road. Magritte is frustrated, no longer leaning her head against her right hand and instead her hand is palm upwards. Rafael says: "Well, yes. It is a disappointing situation, but-" Magritte interrupts: "You'd think I'd be able to do the one thing I was asked to do-! That I'd at least learn from the last billion times I forgot shit. Rafael says, quieter: “that's not where I was going with this...”

(Eighth panel): Magritte has her right hand holding her face with the palm on her cheek, left hand placing the tips of her fingers on her left temple and eye brows. She is frustrated and angry. Magritte says: "It's not like I've got anything more important rattling around in my brain. But, for some reason, if it's not my music, or like.... food or something, then it's just not a priority. I can't make myself care enough to make it a priority!"

(Ninth panel): She now has both hands in front of her, elbows bent, finger extended in a vague hand gesture as if there was something in front of her. Magritte says: "I'm an adult in my 20s and I still manage my responsibilities like a child. I'd be more dependable if I could just stop and think for a second, but I'd probably forget to even breathe if it weren't for the..."

(Tenth panel): Her frustrated expression turned to confusion. Her hands are still in the air in the same position as before. Magritte says:"... why are we parked?" Her noticing this stopped her rant.

(Eleventh panel): Magritte straightens up and faces the window entirely, left hand crossed over her body to lean on the car door. Rafael, off screen: "Margie." Magritte says: "Oh." Magritte's inner thoughts are written around her. "He stopped the car to scold me. No, not ‘scold’. Don't be a child about this. He's disappointed and just needs to make sure you understand so you can do better next ti-"

(Twelfth panel): Magritte is still looking out the window, but now with a shocked expression. Rafael reached with his right hand, and its now resting gently on her upper back. Rafael interrupts her inner monologue with "I need you to stop repeating the shit your parents and teachers and such yelled at you growing up. They were wrong, and nothing you just said makes sense."

(Thirteenth panel): The perspective switches back to the driver's side profile. Rafael says: "A poor memory isn't synonymous with poor priorities. Nor does it speak to a lack of maturity. The priority was there, we just have to build a better habit of checking things before we leave the apartment. Both of us. It's gonna take time. You afford everyone else a ton of patience, all the time. Can you please afford some for yourself? The situation sucks, we were both looking forward to this. But it's not the end of the world. We didn't forget things on purpose. So let's take it easy and try to end the day on a good note. Alright?" Magritte says: "Okay... c-can we um...."

(Fourteenth panel): Magritte has turned to face Rafael and her eyes are filled with tears and they're running down her cheeks. Rafael looks startled, lifting his arm off Magritte's back. Magritte says: "Can we get some ice cream on the way back?" Rafael says: "O-of course!" End of description.]

This description was written and provided by Hiwi.

#sketch #comic #Hi-Note #magritte #rafael

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bacytar · 2 months ago

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Pockets full of posies

...IN WHICH— in which you fail to escape your sickeningly obsessed vampire partners.

Match up ᯓ 𑁤 yan. Lestat and Louis x reader

triggers_ predator vrs pray themes, power imbalance, sucking blood, kidnapping, sadistic tendencies

Authors musings: hello everyone, this fic although a poly one is a bit more centered around Lestat. In the future I will be making more Louis content. Anyway this is first time posting a full blown one shot so I really hope you enjoy.

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Lestat knew about your little plan to escape them. Hell, he practically knew even before yourself. It all just made it all the more enjoyable to hunt you down.

He watched as you carefully gripped the edge of the train, tentiful not to make a sound as you pulled yourself in. Nesseling yourself in between two crates you finally feel yourself relax. You rummage through your leather messenger bag till your hands curl around the cool hilt of an aged dagger.

This wasnt your first attempt to escape and you hoped it would be your last. It had taken you ages to regain the minuscule amount of trust you had. You didn't have a set direction where you wanted to go. Just anywhere away from them felt enticing enough.

As the train moved, the cargo rattled beside you. A specter of a smile starting to creep upon your lips.

You had lasted much longer than you had ever had before and for that, Lestat could almost applaud you. If only he wasn't the first to let you in the first place. You wouldn't have heard him if all else wasnt silent. His footfall was quite, a trademark of a seasoned predator.

You tried your best to slow your beating pulse as your blood rushed in your ears. A low chuckle escapes Lestat's lips as he knocks on the wood of the train car.

"Did you scurry off in here my rabbit?"

You carefully extract the aged blade from your bag, ready to strike when the inevitable hits you. Lestat continues to hum as he creeps closer to you.

"Are you perhaps...here." He violently pulls back a crate, its remnants splintering with contact with the wall behind him. "No, not here..." He extracts another crate, which splinters, and its contents sprawled. He laughs, a cruel yet beautiful sound as he creeps toward your hiding spot. You can do nothing as your eyes meet. His gaze is wild and hollow and threatens your spine with a chill.

You remember the blade gripped in your hands and lunge forward but he is far too fast. This only seems to serve to amuse the vampire as he simply plucks the blade from your trembling hands and tosses it aside. You are helpless against his devastating grip as he smiles down at you.

"This was fun, but it's time to go home. Louis is worried sick." You scowl gathering the spit in your mouth and projecting it right at Lestat's face. "No! I won't! You're both horrible. Id-" Lestat cuts you off with a dry yet mocking laugh. "You know ma belle, I was going to let you off easy and just take your disobedience as entertainment. But no, I think you deserve something else."

Lastat's fangs protract as he slowly widens his mouth and lowers it to your neck. You could practically feel his sadistic smile as he sank his fangs into you. Your lips open in a silent scream as blinding pain pulses beneath his bite. You want to fight back but your body is unresponsive. Perfectly still as any good pet should be. It wasn't until the rim of your vision began to darken he parted from your neck.

It was raw and sore. A feeling you never enjoyed, though Lestat seemed to. He panted, enjoyment dripping from his features. "Mhm, I forgot how good you tasted." You had no biting remark back as he carried you bridal style out of the now-stopped train.

The ride back home was awkward and quiet. You tried to stop yourself from glancing at Lesatat because whenever you did your eyes seemed to meet without fail.

"Home" was just how you left it. Wild vines trumped the entrance, and warm light spilled from the windows only illuminated by the darkened sky. You didn't want to be a songbird in a gilded cage made of shadows anymore than you did when you left that evening. But alas you felt your free will diminish as Lestat placed a strong hand at the nape of your neck, guiding you in.

There you found Louis pacing. "Louis guess who I found." Lestat sang, pushing you in front of him. Louis immediately looked up clearly relieved. He didn't approach you immediately, instead slowly stepping toward you as if you were a caged animal that might just run from any swift movement.

Once he reached you he hugged you tight, his grip just as tight as Lestat's. Burying his face into the good side of your neck, he breathed, his breath slightly tickling you. "I was so worried..." He pulled away from you allowing you to see the worry and desperation that marinated in his gaze. If he wasn't crazy you would feel bad for him.

His hand grazes the side of your wounded neck, the leftover blood already caked onto your skin. Louis sucks in a breath, clearly tempted but able to restrain himself. "I-I see you have already had your fill huh." Lestat smiles and presses a kiss to his lips. "Just a quick snack."

Louis kisses your forehead then your cheek. His lips lingered longer than what was deemed comfortable. "You must be so tired after your... exploits," he said the last word as if it were poison. "Why don't we head to bed early." before you are able to answer or even interject Lestat answers for you "That sounds like a wonderful idea!" leaning down to your ear he whispers "We'll just have to bathe you tomorrow."

The three of you migrate up the steps. Both Louis and Lestat help you into your "night" attire before helping themselves, making sure your eyes are on them as they do so. Sinking into Louis's coffin altogether was a tight and suffocating fit, that tempted you to crawl out. You were trapped in a tangle of limbs until the sunset again.

#an interview with a vampire #interview with a vampire fanfic #lestat x reader x louis #yandere lestat #yandere louis #iwtv #yandere iwtv #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #iwtv fanfiction

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 6 months ago

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50 Shades of Red || Chapter 1

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: A reimagining of 50 Shades of Grey, featuring a healthy, consensual relationship and safe BDSM scenes. And lesbians, of course. Wanda meets Natasha, and their captivating story begins.

content warnings: none

word count: 4.9k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Chapter 1

Wanda frowned, running her fingers through her hair. The auburn locks mocked her, laying over her shoulders as she ran her eyes over them. There was something wrong, whether it was the curls or the style, Wanda couldn’t tell. Whatever, fuck her hair, and fuck her roommate for getting sick.

A groan sounded out from the other room, and Wanda let her frustration slip away. It wasn’t Kate’s fault for getting sick, but it just so happened to be at the most unfortunate time. Really, Wanda should be studying for her finals, her textbooks laying open on the kitchen counter. But instead, she was here running her fingers through stubborn hair and mentally cursing out her roommate as she searched for a hair tie.

The only thing that would save her appearance now was a ponytail, high on her head. Anything to give the illusion of confidence. At least her slight curls would give her hair some dimension.

Sighing, Wanda let herself look away from the mirror, catching a glimpse of dark circles under her normally vibrant green eyes. Were her cheeks more hollow than usual? She couldn’t tell, but judging by the way her stomach rumbled, she knew she had forgotten about eating in favor of studying for the past few weeks.

Swiping some concealer under her eyes, Wanda dabbed the product into her skin as she walked towards the living room. Kate was a good roommate, always cleaning up after herself and offering Wanda ice cream after every failed date she went on. But truly, she’d chosen the worst time to get sick. Wanda had volunteered, of course, but interviewing some rich multi-millionaire was not high on her fun list.

“You’re a lifesaver, truly,” Kate mumbled, her flushed cheeks appearing over the arm of the couch. She’d been running herself ragged, trying to write papers and organize some questions for this interview. It was at Romanoff’s Global Enterprise, a special section for the school newspaper. Goddamn Kate and all her extracurriculars. Now, instead of losing herself in textbooks and notetaking, Wanda was driving 165 miles into Seattle in her shitty old Honda.

Evidently, the CEO she was meeting today was an enigmatic and charming woman, one of the youngest millionaires in the country. Natasha Romanoff. God, even her name sounded rich.

“I’m so sorry Wanda,” Kate’s voice was raspy, and Wanda filled a glass of water for her. “This interview took me months to get, and by the time I would be able to reschedule, we’d both be graduated. You know I’m the editor for the newspaper, I can’t give up this opportunity. I’m not even kidding, it's the chance of a lifetime.” Her eyes were wide and red-rimmed. Even though she looks like she’s on death's door, Kate still manages to have flawless skin and long, flowing hair. Wanda feels a pang of sympathy, bringing the glass of water over and swiping a bottle of NyQuil from the counter.

“It’s okay, Kate. I promise. Take this and go the fuck to bed, you look like you’re seconds away from passing out.”

“Fine, but here are the supplies you’ll need,” Kate reaches for her bag, pulling out a recording device and a printed stack of questions. “Just hit record and ask all these questions, I’ll transcribe everything later when this fever goes away and I can finally think straight.”

Wanda suppresses the wave of panic that rises in her, taking the questions and recording device with slightly trembling fingers and tucking them safely in her messenger bag. She wouldn’t do this for anyone else, only Kate.

“Go to bed, I’ll be fine,” Wanda says, her voice not sounding as confident as she’d like.

Giving her a knowing look, Kate shuffles off towards the bedroom, a blanket wrapped around her. “You’ll be fine, just ask the questions and that’ll be enough information to get you through the interview. And Wanda,” Kate pauses at the door, her tired gray eyes finding green. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I’d better get going,” Wanda smiles, her hands shooing her roommate through the door. “It’s a long drive, and I don’t want to be late.”

“Good luck, you’re my favorite roommate.”

“Kate, I’m your only roommate.”

—

The drive is easy, not many people are up this early. The trees whizz past, Wanda’s foot never leaving the gas pedal as she makes her way towards the city. She doesn’t have to be at the interview until two this afternoon, but there’s something intoxicating about driving 15 miles over the speed limit on a bare highway.

Pictures of a tall, curved glass building float through Wanda’s mind. She was certain that the pictures of Romanoff’s Global Enterprise on Google didn’t compare to the actual building itself, and she brushed off the waves of anxiety building inside her chest.

It’s a quarter to two when Wanda pulls her car in front of the building. The reflective glass stares down at her, the top of the building too high to see without craning her neck. Large lettering spells out Romanoff above the entryway, and Wanda feels her fingers trembling as she hands her keys to the valet driver. Honestly, a valet driver? How much more over the top could this day get?

Walking into the lobby, Wanda hears the muted click of her low heels as she tugs her dress shirt down. A tall blonde woman walks towards her, a smile plastered on her face as her eyes rake up and down Wanda’s body, no doubt judging her outfit. The woman looks pristine, with a slicked-back ponytail and a subtle hint of mascara. Her blazer is sharp and tailored, and Wanda fights the urge to tug her dress shirt again.

“I’m here to see Ms. Romanoff, my name is Wanda Maximoff,” The statement comes out as more of a question, and Wanda blushes under the scrutinizing look the blonde gives her.

“One moment, Ms. Maximoff,” the woman says, her perfect brow arching slightly as she appraises Wanda one last time before turning her attention to the large iPad in her hands. She swipes a few times, a small smile gracing her features as she finds what she’s looking for.

“Ah, Ms. Bishop was expected, but I see that was changed last minute. Right this way, Ms. Maximoff,” the woman turns, walking confidently towards the elevators. “If you could sign this, please.”

The blonde hands Wanda the iPad, and she quickly signs her name. It looks illegible, and Wanda hopes her signature isn’t going anywhere except to the security office for verification. She fights the urge to fix her ponytail, her eyes landing on the blonde woman’s slicked-back hair tied high on her head. Maybe a quick tightening of her hair tie wouldn’t hurt.

“Press the button for floor twenty.” The woman turns, catching Wanda’s hands as they shoot down from adjusting her ponytail. A graceful smile spreads across her face, “Have a good interview.”

Wanda thanks her, accepting the badge the blonde hands her. It has the words VISITOR stamped across the surface. Awkwardly adjusting the badge until it’s pinned to her jacket, Wanda scoffs internally. As if anyone in this building didn’t already know she was only a visitor. She might as well write the word on her forehead to go along with her outdated shoes and slightly too-large jacket.

The elevator ride is quick, shooting up towards the twentieth floor smoothly. Wanda is greeted by the sight of yet another pristine, clean lobby. Another blonde woman sits behind a desk, quickly rising as Wanda steps out.

Running a hand over her hair, Wanda reaches into her bag. She’s never felt self-conscious about her hair before, but after seeing no less than five impeccably dressed blonde women, she can’t help but think she sticks out like a sore thumb.

Pulling out the recording device and the slightly crumpled stack of questions, Wanda curses herself for not researching Ms. Romanoff. The woman could be ninety years old for all she knew. She hadn’t searched up her name at all, and fights the urge to smooth down her shirt as she glances towards the receptionist.

The upcoming one-on-one interview looms in the front of her mind, nerves causing her fingers to systematically rub the pages in front of her. Wanda hated attention being focused on her, much preferring the anonymity of a group discussion or a crowded room. Sitting on hard white leather chairs and staring at the city skyline from a large floor-to-ceiling window was not something Wanda would consider as a happy place.

Wanda wonders if Ms. Romanoff insists on all her employees being blonde as yet another smartly dressed woman appears from around the corner. The blonde’s eyes glance towards her, doing a subtle double-take before smoothly stepping towards her.

“Ms. Maximoff?”

“Yes,” Wanda hopes her voice isn’t trembling too badly.

“Ms. Romanoff will see you shortly, can I offer you a refreshment? Coffee, tea, water?”

“Water is fine, thanks.” Her throat is suddenly parched, and she takes the cup from the blonde woman gratefully.

“She will see you shortly.” The woman says, a small smile plastered on her face as she turns and walks towards the desk. She sits next to the other blonde woman, her attention focused on the computer before her. Wanda wonders if she should call them Thing One and Thing Two as the clacking of a keyboard fills the empty, sterile feeling space.

A door opens, a tall man stepping through as he chuckles at something. He bids a brief farewell, barely glancing at the blonde woman, who Wanda notices has jumped to their feet in his presence. They seem nervous, one woman ushering the man towards the elevator while the other hurriedly gestures for Wanda to stand.

“Ms. Romanoff will see you now,” she says and pushes Wanda towards the open door.

Wanda walks through the door, one hand gripping the recording device and the other holding the stack of papers close to her chest. She steps through the door, catching a glimpse of a large office with floor-to-ceiling windows, before she promptly trips.

Her palms catch her, the papers flying from her hands as the recording device clatters to the floor. Fuck. This was a terrible first introduction.

The sound of heels steadily approaching reaches Wanda’s ears, and she feels her face burning as she scrambles to pick up the items now strewn across a polished marble floor. Bracing herself, she manages to glance up.

“Ms. Bishop,” A long-fingered hand is extended. “I’m Natasha Romanoff, are you alright?”

Holy shit. Wanda finds herself speechless, her lips parted as her mouth hangs open slightly. She quickly gathers the rest of the papers, gratefully taking the cool hand with her own as she stands.

Ms. Romanoff is absolutely stunning. There are no words to describe her, and Wanda feels herself taking in the woman’s appearance. Long legs and a tight, black pencil skirt, an hourglass figure that means this woman spends countless hours in the gym, and a dark green button-up shirt with just enough buttons undone to show the barest curve of her chest. Blinking, Wanda feels herself flushing further, the sight of Ms. Romanoff’s rolled-up sleeves and bare forearms sending her head spiraling.

“I’m okay,” Wanda manages, feeling her breath catching. She finally manages to drag her eyes toward Ms. Romanoff’s face, finding the barest hint of a smirk and kind, vibrant green eyes. She’s mildly surprised to see dark red hair, and she suddenly doesn’t feel as out of place as she did before.

Looking down, Wanda startles at the sight of a hand still outstretched. She takes it, shaking firmly as a spark of something runs through her fingertips. It travels down her spine, filling her with warmth.

“Um, it’s actually Wanda,” she begins, flushing under the sharp eyes that remain locked with hers. “Um, Maximoff. Wanda Maximoff. Kate, I mean Ms. Bishop is sick so… here I am.” She concludes lamely, the barest hint of amusement in Ms. Romanoff's eyes.

The silence stretches, and Wanda finds herself speaking again. “I study English literature. With Kate, I mean um… Ms. Bishop. At school. Our school, Washington State. I hope you don’t mind that I’m here.”

“I don’t mind.” is all Natasha says, and she gestures towards a leather L-shaped couch. “Would you like to sit?”

This office is far too big for one person, a large desk near the center of the room. Wanda assumes it’s Ms. Romanoff’s. She walks towards the corner of the office, large glass windows extending around the couch and a few comfortable-looking chairs. There’s a dark mahogany desk, with enough chairs to seat a dozen people all around it. She wonders if Ms. Romanoff ever leaves this office, and takes in the minimalistic artwork hanging on the walls.

“The table was handmade by a local artist,” Ms. Romanoff says, her head tilting when Wanda looks back at her. She flushes, knowing that the woman had been watching her look around the room.

“It’s beautiful,” Wanda murmurs. “Seemingly ordinary resources crafted into something exquisite.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Natasha agrees, her voice low and sounding like melted butter. Wanda finds herself blushing at the sound.

Distractedly, Wanda sinks onto the couch as Ms. Romanoff gracefully sits on one of the black leather chairs across from her. Her fingers fumble, dropping the recording device onto the wood roughly. The blush must be semi-permanent at this point, spreading across her cheeks and over the tips of her ears as she turns the recording device on. Finding the first page of questions, Wanda realizes that she never read the questions in advance.

Off to a great start, then.

“I apologize,” Wanda lets a hand run along the side of her head, a ghost action of tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m not really used to this.”

“Used to what?”

“One-on-one interviews, they feel oddly intimate. I’m much more acquainted with blending into the wall in a crowd.”

“Take all the time you need,” Ms. Romanoff says, a small smile on her face. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Do you mind?” Wanda gestures towards the table, “I would like to record your answers for my roommate, I mean… Ms. Bishop.”

Ms. Romanoff smirks widely at that, amusement dancing on her flawless features. “You already started recording, now you’re asking for permission?”

Is she teasing? It sounds like she’s teasing, but Wanda is too flushed with embarrassment to really place the emotion behind Ms. Romanoff’s words. The woman takes pity on her.

“I don’t mind.”

“Did Kate, uh… Ms. Bishop explain what the interview was for?”

“Yes,” Natasha settles into her seat, a faint look of boredom overtaking her face. “This interview will be placed in the school newspaper as a feature article since I will be the featured speaker at this year's graduation ceremony.”

Oh. Kate had forgotten to mention that little detail. Wanda hoped the surprise at the news wasn’t showing on her face.

“Oh, good,” Wanda cleared her throat. “In that case, let’s begin.”

“Yes, let's.”

Is she… teasing? Again? Wanda feels as though she’s been thrust into an alternate dimension. She sits up straighter, squaring her shoulders in an attempt to look more confident than she is. Professional, that’s what Wanda is hoping to achieve.

“You’re very young to have amassed such an impressive empire.” The words feel almost monotone. Scripted. “To what do you owe your success?” Wanda glances up, and Natasha’s smile falls into a vague look of disappointment.

“In short, business is all about people. I excel at knowing what makes a person tick, and I am an excellent judge of character, Ms. Maximoff. I know how to inspire, and most importantly, how to incentivize.” Natasha’s dark green eyes lock with Wanda’s, pinning her to her seat. “I believe that I must know every detail in order to achieve success, knowledge is power after all. I make my decisions based on logic, not feelings. In short, I know people. I know how they tick, and I know how to inspire them.”

“Well,” Wanda flounders, the answer sounding rehearsed to her ears. God, this woman is arrogant. “Maybe you’re just lucky.”

A startled look flashes across Ms. Romanoff’s face, surprise appearing in her eyes momentarily before it’s brushed away. “I don’t believe in luck, Ms. Maximoff. I believe in my own abilities, and I believe in the team that surrounds me. I select only the best to work for this company, and that is the reason for my success.”

“You sound like someone who is obsessed with control,” the words escape Wanda’s mouth before she can restrain them.

“I exercise control in all things, Ms. Maximoff,” Natasha says, not a glimmer of humor in her words. Her steel gaze locks with Wanda’s, impassive as she watches Wanda flush again.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Natasha continues as if she never heard Wanda speak. “Immense power is only acquired by those who are convinced that they have the ability to control the things around them."

Immense power? Yeah, total control freak.

“So you believe that you have immense power?”

“I employ over fifty thousand people, Ms. Maximoff. I am responsible for all of them. This responsibility gives me a certain sense of power. If I decided that a department wasn’t needed one day, such as a social media section of my team, hundreds of people would struggle to find a replacement job. So yes, I have power.”

The complete lack of humility and apparent empathy causes Wanda’s mouth to open, her lips parted slightly in disbelief.

“Is there a board you answer to?”

“I own this company. I don’t answer to anyone.” Ms. Romanoff raises a single eyebrow.

Wanda feels herself flush yet again. If she had done any research, she's certain she would have known the answer to that question beforehand. She changes the topic.

“What are your interests outside of work?”

The sharp curve of Ms. Romanoff’s eyebrow suggests that she knows what Wanda is doing, but the woman answers the question gracefully.

“I have many varied interests outside of work,” Natasha’s tone is bordering on playful, the slight curve of her lips almost teasing.

“Well, what do you do to relax?” Wanda asks, rephrasing her question. For some reason, the previous answer sent a flush down her spine.

“Relax?” Ms. Romanoff sits back in her seat, the heat of her gaze never leaving Wanda’s. “I engage in multiple physical pursuits. I’m a wealthy woman, Ms. Maximoff, I never tire of looking for hobbies.”

Not knowing how to respond, Wanda glances at the next question.

“You invest in engineering, why?”

Ms. Romanoff’s response is quick and practiced. “I enjoy the creation of things. I like knowing how they work, what makes them tick. How to build and create. I enjoy the process of creating something, adjusting to flaws, and perfecting things.”

“That sounds awfully sentimental.”

“Does it?” That damned subtle smirk is back, and Wanda looks down at the page in front of her. “There are many who say I don’t have the heart for sentiments.”

That makes Wanda look up. There’s a curious expression on Ms. Romanoff’s face. It disappears before Wanda can decipher it.

“Would your friends say you don’t have a heart?” Fuck. That wasn’t on the list of questions. Kate is going to kill her.

“Why would you presume they say that?”

“I assume they know you well, and you’re easy to get to know…” Wanda responds, her heart thudding.

“Well,” Natasha leans forward slightly. “I’m a very private person, Ms. Maximoff. I go to great lengths to ensure my privacy is well maintained. There is a reason I don’t often give interviews.”

“Then why did you agree to this one?” The question escapes Wanda’s lips before she can stop it, her curiosity taking over.

Natasha leans back, crossing a leg delicately over the other. “I’m a generous benefactor to your University, and in all honesty, Ms. Bishop was extremely insistent. She was relentless in her communications with my PR and assistants, and I admire her motivation.”

Fully aware of how tenacious Kate could be, Wanda curses her out mentally. Instead of studying for her finals, she was sitting in this cold, expensive office and interviewing a successful, rich woman not much older than her.

Wanda glances at the next question.

“Do you have a philosophy you live by? If so, what is it?”

“It's not so much a philosophy as a guiding principle. As Carnegie said, ‘A man who acquires the ability to take full possession of his own mind may take possession of anything else to which he is justly entitled.’ I like control of myself and those around me.”

“You sound like the ultimate control freak.”

Ms. Romanoff smiles sharply, a dangerous look appearing in her eye. “I suppose I am.”

Swallowing, Wanda feels as though the woman seated across from her is talking about something else entirely. She can’t quite pinpoint what it is. It frustrates her to no end, but Wanda just shakes her head and continues with the questions written before her.

“You were adopted,” Wanda pauses, this information is a surprise to her. She risks a glance up. Ms. Romanoff’s face is impassive. “How do you think this shaped the person you are today?”

Biting her lip, Wanda hoped she didn’t cross any lines. Ms. Romanoff doesn’t seem to be offended, but her brows furrow slightly.

“I have no way of knowing, Ms. Maximoff. My adoptive family is all I’ve ever known.”

“How old were you when you were adopted?”

Natasha’s lips curl into a wry smile. “That is information available by public record.” Her tone is stern, her words sharp. Wanda immediately flushes, feeling like hitting her own forehead against a solid surface. Repeatedly.

If only she’d done some research ahead of time. Well, no time to dwell on the past. Wanda speaks quickly, suddenly wanting this interview to be over.

“Does your family life encroach on your work?”

“It does not.” Ms. Romanoff’s tone is flat and hard, her response quick.

Wanda feels red-hot embarrassment slink down her spine. She should have looked over these questions ahead of time. Curse her inability to think ahead. She barely glances at the next question before the words are spewing from her lips.

“Are you gay?”

Ms. Romanoff blinks. Wanda feels her eyes go wide, darting down to the paper in front of her. Why the fuck is that question in here? Why didn’t Kate warn her, or… matter of fact, why did Kate think that was an appropriate question to ask?

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t…” Wanda trails off, her flush returning. “I didn’t know that was a question. You don’t have to answer that, I’m sorry. Let's move on.”

“I am.”

Wanda’s head shoots up so fast she strains a muscle. It shoots painfully down her neck, but the only thing she’s focused on is the dark green of Ms. Romanoff’s unwavering gaze.

“You didn’t write these questions.” It’s a statement, and Wanda finds herself nodding.

“Like I said before, my roommate was supposed to interview you today. These are her questions, for our school newspaper.” Wanda feels her fingers clenching the paper. She hopes she isn’t thrown out of the office. She couldn't bear the shame and judgemental looks the blonde assistants would surely send her way.

“Are you also a part of the school newspaper?”

“No, I-” Wanda falters, wincing at the dull tone in Ms. Romanoff’s words. “Kate asked me to come since I’m her roommate. She had no other options.”

“That explains a multitude of things,” Ms. Romanoff’s voice is quiet, her eyes boring into Wanda’s.

A soft knock sounds out, the door swinging open as blonde thing number one steps into the office. Wanda immediately resents her presence, a strange atmosphere encroaching on the space she was occupying.

“Your next meeting is in five minutes, Ms. Romanoff,” The assistant says, not sparing a glance towards Wanda.

“Cancel it, we’re not done here.”

Wanda looks up, her hands already preparing to sweep the recording device into her bag as she makes her escape. The assistant is gaping, her eyes flicking between Wanda and her boss. Natasha raises a single eyebrow, and the assistant bows her head slightly before leaving and gently shutting the door behind her.

“I hope I’m not taking up valuable time,” Wanda says, her hands still hovering over the recording device.

“You aren’t. Besides, I want to know about you.” Ms. Romanoff tilts her head slightly, her lips turning up slightly. “It’s only fair, after all.”

That damned flush makes itself known once again, traveling over Wanda’s cheeks and down her neck. She folds the corner of her paper, the crease sharp beneath her fingers and she bites her lip briefly.

“There’s not much to know, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Ms. Romanoff’s eyes are sharp, assessing. “What are your plans after graduation?”

Wanda recognizes the escape for what it is and seizes it wholeheartedly. “I don’t have any plans, I’m too focused on exams at the moment.”

“I see,” her voice is low, her posture relaxed, and her eyes piercing. Ms. Romanoff uncrosses her legs slowly, leaning forward slightly. “We offer an excellent internship program here.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, Wanda smiles slightly. “I’m sure you do. Although, I’m not sure I'd fit in here.”

“No?” Her head tilts again, green eyes unwavering. Wanda feels trapped suddenly, the weight of the woman’s gaze pinning her to the couch. She lets out an uncomfortable cough.

“Isn’t it obvious?” The statement is evasive, but Ms. Romanoff answers without hesitation.

“Not to me, it isn’t.” Her gaze is heavy, eyes all-knowing and locked on Wanda. There’s a new sort of tension in the air, all traces of awkwardness gone and replaced with something heady. It’s making Wanda’s head spin, and she breaks eye contact with some effort. Reaching towards the table, she turns the recording device off, placing it gently into her bag.

The tension breaks, Ms. Romanoff standing slowly as Wanda shoves the papers into her bag.

“Would you like a tour?”

Wanda pauses, her hands stilling. Why is she asking that? Isn’t she the CEO of the company?

“I’m sure you have many other important things to attend to, Ms. Romanoff. Besides, I should get on the road before it starts raining too heavily.” Wanda glances out the window, taking in the dark clouds on the distant horizon.

“You’re driving back to campus today?” Ms. Romanoff sounds almost concerned. Wanda tries not to stare at her in shock, blinking quickly. The woman clears her throat, an authoritative tone taking over as she speaks. “Be careful.”

“I will. Thank you for the interview.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” she says, polite and dismissive.

Wanda stands, closing her messenger bag. She takes in the woman in front of her, letting her eyes glance over the impeccable outfit the woman has put on. Truly, she should be taking notes on how to dress in a business formal manner, and she’s got the perfect model in front of her. Blinking that thought away, Wanda takes in the small smile creeping onto Ms. Romanoff’s face.

“Until we meet again, Ms. Maximoff,” she holds out her hand, gripping Wanda’s fingers in a gentle yet firm hold.

Will they meet again? Wanda can almost guarantee that they won’t, but something in Ms. Romanoff’s eyes tell her differently. She shakes it off, labeling it as nerves running rampant through her mind. Of course, they wouldn’t meet again. A classic case of a rich, hot CEO meeting a poor college student, their paths crossing once and never entangling again, akin to a set of perpendicular lines.

“Ms. Romanoff,” Wanda nods slightly, letting the woman walk her to the door.

Opening it wide, the woman holds out a hand. A small smirk graces her features. “I am averse to my guests tripping more than once in my presence, and I’d like to ensure your safe journey from my building, Ms. Maximoff.”

“Well,” Wanda flounders for a moment. “That’s very considerate of you.”

At least someone is amused, Wanda thinks as she steps through the door. She considers shooting a victorious glance back at the woman, but decides that the action would be too childish.

Evidently, Ms. Romanoff doesn’t often escort her guests from her office, judging by the surprised looks the blonde assistants shoot their way. It all seems quite suffocating for a moment, and Wanda takes a deep breath.

A hand on her shoulder halts the escape she is about to make. The warmth from Ms. Romanoff’s firm fingertips sends something intoxicating through Wanda. She hopes the ensuing shiver isn’t too obvious.

“I have to swipe my card for the elevator to work on this floor,” Ms. Romanoff explains, pressing the down button.

Of course. That makes sense. Then why is her hand still resting on Wanda’s shoulder?

Almost as if she’s reading Wanda’s mind - or maybe her body language - Ms. Romanoff releases her hold. Her fingers linger briefly, tracing briefly over her arm as she fixes Wanda with a look.

The elevator doors open, and Wanda gratefully steps through. Turning, she sees Ms. Romanoff leaning casually against the wall. The sight is attractive, and Wanda finds her eyes lingering on the exposed forearms crossed in front of her body.

“Wanda,” the woman says, a goodbye, but without a note of finality.

“Natasha,” she replies.

The doors close.

Next Chapter

---

Dm or comment to be added!

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tarantulasnot · 3 months ago

Text

Sudden ramble because I want to.

Hi! This is the snot that the original tarantula did not expect to sneeze out and it became way more drawn out than I thought it would!!

Content Contains: Yearning, rushed slow burn, Leon is an alcoholic, masturbation, Leon thinks about how much the reader cares and pops a wad, but it means something chat, will have a part two.

Imagine like an old vendetta Leon that lives in a small apartment. Something cheap. After all, it's not like he's going to have any time to actually take care of it. Just dump some of the useless amount of money he has into it every month and crash every once in a while. It's simple, and it keeps his alcohol in a safe place.

But then there was you. The sweet girl next door, barely aware of the horrors of the world. So naive, so God damn innocent with your bright eyes and big dreams. He never expected to see a little ray of sunshine living so close to him. So, it took him by surprised when you greeted him old-fashioned. An apple pie you baked on your downtime to relieve stress from your college life.

Your voice was so sweet. So open-hearted he almost wanted to vomit. "Hi! I'm your next door neighbor (Y/N), and I figured I'd bring you a welcome gift." Your hands gesture the fresh pie towards him, and his nose scrunches up at the sight. What was this? Some kind of cheesy rom-com? What was your angle? Why were you buttering him up like this?

"Thanks." His voice was gruff and low, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation, so you were quick to let it go. "Oh yeah, of course. I live right across from you, so feel free to stop by anytime. I make enough pastries to make a dentist rich." Ah, what a jokester you were.

Still, his blue eyes never left your face. You were such a pretty little thing. So unreal, so contrasting to him. It almost felt impossible. To have such... normalcy in his life.

"Yeah, okay." He took the pie from your hands, and he gave a short wave good-bye before he closed the door. First day here, and he was already feeling like his simple apartment was going to be a hassle. He had to avoid you.

But later that night, he stares down at the pie in front of him. Still in its tin, glaring at him as he sits down across from it. It's clear you put in great effort, and he fiddles with his fork. He can't let it go to waste, and it's not like it was bad. But a part of him felt so wrong. He didn't deserve this. This sweet pastry as opposed to gas station snacks and whatever rations the government decided to supply him with while he was on missions. If those ran out? The fish he'd pick up or the animals he'd shoot down.

The creatures he'd shoot down before leaving them to rot. Not quite that deprived yet.

He took a swig of his flask, relishing in the burn down his throat... and then he dipped his fork into the pie.

Leon had a mission today. Quite literally. Some stupid bio-terrorism somewhere he didn't really pay attention to but would be debriefed on again when he got there. He spent his morning equipping himself with his knife, his gun, some ammo, and whatever other necessities would be most likely to ensure his survival.

He doesn't own any mirrors. He doesn't care to if he's going to come home fucked up anyway. Leon exits the front door, locking it behind him and he heads towards the stairs.

And he sees you again.

Your appearance is so vastly different from his. Your hair has been styled in a way that fits you perfectly, your makeup flawless, and a fresh clean outfit adorns your body to match the messenger bag strewn over one shoulder. Then you smile at him

Did you always smile like that? This frequently?

"Hey again! Did you like the pie last night?" That voice brings him out of his fleeting thoughts, and he nods as you slow your descend down the stone steps. His pace ambling down to match yours.

"Yeah, I did." If Leon had the mind to, he would have given a more sociable, reciprocal reply. However, that's not him anymore. He doesn't care to find the him that would anyway.

"Well that's good. I'm glad." You reply, now walking side by side with him. His icy blue eyes graze over you, the warmth that seems to just radiate off of you.

Eventually, you both reached the bottom, and he finds his bike was parked next to your car. It fits you, and it fits him. Your car, with interior decorations and even a padded steering wheel cover for extra comfort. His bike, which is so easy to flip and likely to be hit. So easy to be in the wrong place at the right time.

"I didn't catch your name yesterday." Good. You didn't need to know it. In the same hand, why was it such a problem? It was just a name.

"Leon. My name's Leon." He replies simply, throwing his leg over his bike as you unlock your car.

"It was nice talking to you again, Leon." You reply with a goodbye wave, and a smile.

Something in his chest leaps. There was something about the way you said his name. It wasn't beckoning him to follow along some plan he wasn't aware of, and it wasn't ordering him to do something. Its just...

Fuck.

Leon rarely ever gets back from missions during the day. However, a week later he does. In a way, it's like a little reprieve. Enough time to patch himself up and relax (to the best he can with the help of alcohol) before he goes to sleep.

So today, as he sits on his couch staring mindlessly at some movie playing on the cheap cable the complex provides, his thoughts wandered. Blurred and aimless as the alcohol continues to pump into his bloodstream. However, he thinks back to the pie that night.

It was the best, and the first one he's had since he was a boy. Did he like it, you asked him. God, he loved it. After the first bite, he was like a man starved man. His mind practically left him as he took bite after bite after bite until there was nothing but tin and crumbs in front of him.

If he wanted to be existential, he felt in some way like he was eating a part of you. It was authentic. Peeled honeycrisp apples not totally softened from the heat, the crust so obviously hand kneaded by the uneven and plushness of it. Plush, like you. Like your cheeks when you smiled. They seemed so soft.

Calloused fingertips came up to his own face, grazing over the stubble and wrinkles there. He clenched his jaw, slamming his hand down and throwing back his flask once again.

Then, his thoughts returned to other things.

To Leon's surprise, there was no call at three in the morning demanding his help with some bio-terrorism or some cooky scientist. Instead, after he'd woken up and began to spike his own coffee, there was a knock at his door.

Well, the good Lord gives, and the good Lord takes away.

Maybe if he didn't see things that God could not have possibly allowed, he might have actually sought the deity out.

Footsteps trudge to his front door, swinging it open and looking down at his visitor. It's you. Of course it's you.

His hands flex on the edge of the door, and his eyes look down at you. "Hi, (Y/N)." He greets you, and once again you give him another smile. God fucking dammit, are you even capable of feeling anything other than optimism?

"Morning Leon! Well, I know you didn't ask, but college has yet again led me into insane amounts of baking. I know you liked the pie last time, so I was wondering if you'd like some breakfast? I have a surplus over here..." You let out a soft laugh at the end of your sentence, tucking hair behind your ear. God your face, the one he'd been thinking about last night.

Mulling over the thought, he agreed. "I don't see why not."

It truly wasn't a long visit. You weren't lying about that, or the surplus you'd whipped up. He wondered how much you spent on ingredients for these little concoctions you made. Maybe he'd give you some money. He had enough of it laying around. Practically useless.

He sat at his table. Staring at the treats you'd covered in saran wrap. It wasn't just pastries either. There was shepherd's pie in a Tupperware dish, chicken pot pie, and he wondered what you did with all this food. Maybe you handed it out to all the neighbors you knew.

Oh. He didn't like that.

He'd already finished his spiked coffee, and was now sipping on straight vodka as he glared down at the sweets. He knew what people were like. He betted they all wanted a piece of you. God, why wouldn't they?

You were sweet, kind, gentle, and you had that fucking smile... looked at him like he was special. Something to care about. Were you pitying him? No, you wouldn't do that.

You were just a good person.

You were gorgeous, too. Such a lethal combination, and you didn't even know it. He wondered if you had a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.

He took another swig, his brows furrowing as he tried to think about something else. But alas, he couldn't.

Who wouldn't want to snatch you up? Come over every now and then to look at your smile and your pretty face, and eat the stuff you baked so impulsively.

Who wouldn't want you?

You were young, you'd probably want to do something with a lover. What kind of lover were you? Were you shy and timid? Blushing and moaning softly as someone fucked you?

If he fucked you?

You'd want to settle down probably... you seemed the type. He couldn't settle down, though. Not with all these grueling missions he's forced to do.

But wouldn't it be nice to come home to someone like you? A pretty smile waiting to greet him with food in the oven and a house that wasn't dusty. Full of the life he was missing from himself?

His breathing unconsciously became more labored the more he thought about it. You'd have a limited amount of time with him. He'd make the best of it. Eating the food you made and thanking you. Helping you clean and relaxing with you. Something to keep him company besides the steel flask he brings to his lips again.

He'd fuck you.

His hands would dwarf your thighs as he lifts your hips up and down on his cock while his own hips snap up into you, your warmth. His hand leaves his flask to his forehead as his other hand drifts down his abdomen, skin twitching under his own touch. His brows furrowing as a low groan escapes him.

Would you beg him to slow down? Cry about how full you felt with his cock pressing against every soft contour your cunt had to offer him. Only for him. You'd look up at him with half lidded, fluttering eyes and swollen, parted lips as he fucked you like he needed to.

His head was already muddled from the alcohol, but the lust only made his head swim further and further into untouched depths until he's palming himself through sweapants, his hips shifting and twitching in excitement. A groan tears from his throat. Would you press your palm against him like this? Feel him up with curiosity, unaware of how fucking good it felt?

Would you put him past your lips? Sweet words interrupted by his cock, soft cheeks red and stained with tears as he fucks your throat.

His hand dipped below to his waistband to his throbbing cock. His tip already leaking with anticipation as he spreads the essence over his length.

You were nice, but maybe you weren't as naive as he's making you out to be. Maybe you'd have him laid out on his back, situated between his legs as you stroke him, making him groan and grip the bedsheets because your hands would be so fucking soft. So experienced, gliding over his cock as he's helpless to it. Watching you as you work his old cock with enthusiasm only young girls like you had.

His hand pumps faster, and he's borderline whimpering at the thought. Maybe you'd take care of him. Pin him down with your hands on his chest while your hips slammed down on top of his like your life depended on it. His hips would twitch uselessly, too focused on your cunt sucking him in and the gloss decorating his cock as you used him to make yourself cum. It's the least he can do, after all these pastries you've made him.

Only him.

You'd treat him so fucking good.

"F-Fuck!" Leon can't help himself when a strangled groan escapes his lips, cock shooting white hot ropes into his hand and onto the floor as he cums, thighs twitching and chest heaving as he comes down from his high.

It takes a second for him to get over the aftershock before his eyes flicker open, and he states at the cooling food in front of him. With a sigh, he tucks himself into his pants, and grabs a brownie. His other hand picking up his flask again.

I will make a part two but it's getting late and I'm moving in two days so erm yeah eat your food. The next chapter will be from the reader's perspective muehehe

#leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #resident evil #resident evil vendetta #vendetta leon #vendetta leon smut #vendetta leon x reader #leon x reader smut #vendetta leon x reader smut #leon is an alcoholic #send him to rehab #or send him to the reader

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osamucide · 4 months ago

Note

what type of fashion style do you think dazai would have if he didn't have his current one? 🌸

i have so many thoughts about him and him in plain clothes is often one of them so THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS

ill put together a little moodboard below—i alwayssss always imagine him in earth tones. comfy clothes like sweaters, crewnecks, big jackets+button ups. gray+brown jeans and corduroy, soft+breathable dress pants, khakis and cargo pants, heavy boots and sneakers. i have in my hc list that he's a funky sock wearer and i stand on that. i think he'll wear pretty much any socks to ever exist no matter how ridiculous—no one can ever see them anyway unless he hikes up his pant leg like he's flashing a knife and i think he loves doing this. i think he also loves a good bag to pull his outfits together. messenger bag, fanny pack, whatever. he'd carry a cunty Ass purse if he was going out and it complimented his fit. absolutely an "all clothes are unisex if you're not a little bitch" type. also a slippers guy fight me on this. minimalist with jewelry, but still fux with it. pretty alright at layering.

#reid speaks.ᐟ #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu

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echoe-back-from-the-void · 11 months ago

Text

Spencer Reid Likes Your Music

:Some mentions to songs I like or have listened to in the last month since writing this.

Hotchner said there would be a new team member for the BAU, he didn't say much more after that but to expect them today. Spencer carried his still-hot coffee in his hand and his other hand rested on the straps of his ever-present messenger bag. He didn't like change much and he felt curious about who would join, an ex-military, maybe a student in training, or another genius like himself. The possibilities flooded his brain with theories and percentages. It could be another guy, he thought worriedly. Spencer gets enough teasing as it is, he just hopes whoever joins won't be a bully.

Spencer opens the doors to Quantico, making small greetings as he goes to the elevator. he presses the button and waits, already knowing how long it will take to reach him, 14 seconds on the mark. When the elevator opens he enters it swiftly and someone else enters behind him.

A woman only a little shorter than him by maybe an inch, with long bangs that hide half her eyes. She is wearing an old, well-loved, Dale Earnheart t-shirt with flared blue jeans. The entire outfit seems too dressed down to belong in a government building while still suiting her so well. But what is the most surprising is the loud, blaring, music from her earbuds.

"Too tired to sleep, good morning

And I'm too wired to heed the warning

That there's danger in the summer

The calm before the thunder

I'm an American cliché

Missing a girl in a French café

I say, "Goddamn, you're beautiful"

You blush and duck out of frame" ~American Cliche by FINNEAS

The music is upbeat but the voice is monotonous and deep. It's not really Spencer's style but the tune is catchy and the way the woman taps her thigh tells him that it is something she enjoys. She notices his staring and raises her eyebrow making her bangs shift to reveal more of her eye. No gaudy fake lashes or swirling eyeliner, just plain hazel eyes that catch his breath.

They turn away from each other when the doors open to the floor Spencer gets off on. He's again surprised when she gets off behind him, Spencer expected the woman to get off on the floor above. She follows feet behind him, her music still clouding his ears, he glances back as he turns the corner into the bullpen and notices her steps are in time with the beat.

Again, Spencer doesn't expect much until she walks up to Hotchner's office and knocks three times on the door. The woman hurriedly pulls the earbuds out and stuffs them in her pockets before putting her arms behind her back and waiting.

Hotchner opens the door in surprise before greeting the woman and leading her into his office.

"That our new member?" JJ asks as she turns her head to Hotch's office.

"Guess so." Prentiss parrots.

Everyone waits for Hotch to come out with their suspected new member. "Team, meet your new member, Cosette, Nadine. She will be joining us on our case." Everyone moved to the conference room for debriefing and Spencer noticed she slipped an earbud back into her ear, although the music was turned down marginally to not be blasting. Despite Hotch and the new member being closest to the conference room, She did not enter the room until everyone was seated. She paused before deciding against sitting entirely and leaning against the back wall where she watched her new teammates through her bangs. Spencer being close enough to the back, could only faintly hear her music.

"Okay .... Blah - blah - blah. Case explanation or something." Hotch began with some help from Garcia. Emily Prentiss who was sitting near the middle of the table turned toward the new member during the case explanation. "Can you please take out your earbud and focus on the case."

Everyone turned toward the new member some with surprise and others with disappointment. She ducked her head sheepishly. "Sorry, Ma'am. Swear I was listenin'." She pulled her earbud out and stowed it in her pocket. "Was reading their lips," she mumbled while tucking her hair behind her ear.

Spencer picked up that she was nervous by the way she pulled at her ear after saying the last part. Everyone else noticed too and turned back around to continue the debriefing of the case.

"Wheels up in ten, Cosette, you can put it back in now," Hotch said turning to leave the conference room. The way Hotch said the last part was soft and with understanding.

"Got it, Boss!" Cosette chirped: It was the first glimpse into her personality, the team noted. The team noticed that while she did reach into her pocket, she did not pull out her earbud again. She frowned as if scolding herself.

JJ was the first to approach Cosette, "Got a to-go bag?" She asked.

"Yea- I mean Yes Ma'am!" Cosette quickly corrected. "Left it in the car, may I go get it?" She asked back sheepishly. JJ agreed and the newest member of the Bau quickly went to get her bag.

"She's looked really nervous, guys," Garcia said to the team.

"When she settles, she might have a very energetic personality." David Rossi added.

"I feel a little bad for calling her out. But she should know better than to listen to music during a debriefing." Prentiss commented.

"Maybe she had a reason. She took them out before going into Hotch's office."

The team gathers at the jet and all of them notice the newest members' apprehension. "You need to sit down for the plane to take off," JJ says soothingly to Cosette. JJ became the designated person to ask or tell the new member to do anything because of her background as a liaison. "Okie Dokie," Cosette responds back before scurrying to sit next to Spencer, again surprising the others. She sits and quickly buckles herself while clenching the straps tightly.

"First time?" Derek Morgan jokes and Cosette's eyes widen comically when the plane begins shaking and lifting off. She doesn't respond immediately until the jet levels out more. "Not fond of planes or flying in general." She mutters.

Cosette then turns to Spencer, "Sorry for not asking first before sitting." She shivers, not from cold but from holding her muscles too tightly. "I'll move as soon as I can." She breathes deeply and seemingly calms. She moves again to take out her earbuds but doesn't. Instead, she begins tapping some unknown beat with her finger on her knee.

"What song is that?" Spencer asks.

"Frank Sinatra, Fly with me." She responds immediately.

"That's an oldie," Rossi says appreciatively. "What is your favorite song by him?"

"Girl from Ipanema or Blue Moon."

"A blue moon is not actually blue, the term actually refers to the rarity of the occurrence. A blue moon is when there are two full moons within a month. This falls some way short of the 365/366 days in a calendar year: therefore, roughly every two and a half years a 13th full moon is seen. The term was-" Spencer says smartly.

"Spencer." Morgan interjected before the doctor could say more.

Cosette turned left and right in confusion. "But it was interesting," she whined. "The term comes from the saying, The moon is blue, right? Because it means something is impossible?"

Spencer felt strangely warm in his face from the way she finished his thought, and the way she asked if she was right was like she was asking for more facts. He realized he may have stared too long and adjusted his tie, "Yeah, from the 16th century."

"Don't goad him on much or pretty boy will talk your ears off with facts," Morgan warns.

"So," Cosette responds bluntly. The others shake their heads while coming up with their own guesses as to when she would tell him to shut up. But that didn't happen, no matter how long-winded or obscure the fact was. When passengers were allowed to move about the cabin, most had expected her to get up and run but instead, she unbuckled and sat sideways to pay closer attention to him.

"Didn't you want to move?" Spencer asked between facts.

"Do ya want me to? I mean I can! I know you have a book and you may prefer it to talking." Cosette asked pulling on her ear. Now that he was paying more attention he noticed she had a small metal hoop in the upper half of her ear. It was actually the only piece of jewelry she was wearing. No ring, bracelet, or necklace. She ducked her head at his stare and her ears began to twitch. "I swear to Veritas that I'm listening, but I can't tell you what the last three facts were even if you held me at gunpoint." Seeing Dr. Reids' face shift, she quickly tried to say more to stop his disappointment. "It's not that I'm not listening! I really am!" She clenched her hand and began to scratch her palm. "Sometimes I can be staring right at someone but the words don't register. It's a disconnection between the sounds and words, Auditory Processing Disorder. I didn't wanna stop you because even if I wasn't really hearing words, your voice was really nice and kinda excited."

Rossi again speaks up from across the plane aisle. "If I may ask what caused the disorder?" He looks worried when she can't answer immediately.

"It was a head injury. The full story was that I was a kid and the plane I was on crashed. At the time I was listening to Come Fly With Me by Frank Sinatra. It's why I was tapping it earlier. Not to like crash the plane or anything but like how killers develop rituals. I play or tap the song when I'm nervous on a plane and it tells me that no matter what happens I'd be fine because I was back then." She scratches the back of her neck. "I've been told it doesn't make much sense."

"Actually that does make sense. You're associating the song with the crash and surviving it so you subconsciously tap the song. Most likely a coping mechanism to help you not panic in the event of another crash." Spencer said.

"In not as many words, yes." Cosette said before yawning. Spencer wouldn't admit it to anyone but himself but she reminded him of a cute gerbil when she yawned. "Maybe I should take a nap?" She asked herself quietly.

"We'll be in the air for another hour or two. A small nap wouldn't hurt. Actually napping for half an hour can improve productivity leaving you feeling rested but not drowsy." Spencer added. "This is due to your brain never entering REM sleep."

"We get it pretty boy." Morgan added and when Cosette turned around she saw that Derek Morgan was in fact trying to sleep. She nodded toward Spencer before leaning back in her seat and quickly falling asleep.

Weeks later at another case. The team get to the police station, Cosette has her earbuds in again, this time, no one on the team blinks at the faint music. Even Spencer moves closer to hear it as he wonders what it is.

Spencer notice's when they arrive to the police station and begin giving a profile like they always do. Cosette doesn't stand with them. As Gideon and Derek and Hotch all give words on the profile; Spencer watched her eyes bounce from one face to another as she reads lips. Even when a cop speaks up she sees it out the corner of her eye and turns her head toward them. She picked a place to stand that let her both see her teammates and the cops when they talk.

He's again surprised by her intellect when even she comes up with the killer before him. A strange feeling erupts in his chest when she brushes against him to get the papers to Hotchner. It's like his heart beat harder but it was pleasant. Something warm tingles in his chest as she fist bumps the air after they've caught the suspect.

The team had to get conjoined rooms for another case and while most of the team went out for dinner you decided to stay in the room and take advantage of the hot water.

Spencer had also elected to stay with you not of your knowledge as he hears you begin to sing. And while he did enjoy hearing your music from time to time as it blasted through your earbuds, Spencer Reid found he liked hearing you sing even more as you belted the lyrics to another song he didn't know.

"I'm no James Dean

Heartthrob daydream

Bad hair, black jeans

Not cool suits me

Girls won't date me

Guys all hate me

Guess that must mean

I'm no James Dean

James Dean~

I'd got into Nirvana

And smoking marijuana

My first year in school

But you don't really wanna

Get busted by your momma

If you want to stay cool" ~ James Dean by the Wrecks.

Spencer hears through the open conjoining door as you get out of the shower. The song ends and you begin another while your shadow dances under the door with the steam.

"Please forgive my ugly I

Should've picked to be born more lovely I

Should've picked a face

That would've more easily won a place

For me in your heart rent-free

Please forgive my dimensions

I just should've designed myself for your bad intentions

I just should've picked a form

That would've made good mental porn

For all of your odd fantasies"

~ Ugly by Cloudfooter

While the lyrics were sad, you said them with a chirp. But Spencer finds himself not appreciating the song for how it made him feel. Even if he isn't the prettiest as he's been told by women and men alike. In a way he calls into question that maybe why he's viewed as ugly could be his need to give facts and explain things. Sometimes he can't help it really as it is just the way he thinks and sees the world. And while he does have some problems being complimented because he feels he doesn't deserve them he still wants to deserve them. In a way wanting to be praised.

"What're you thinking about so hard? I'd have thought ya went with the group for chow?" Cossette says from the foot of the bed startling him.

"Nothing." Spencer answers too fast.

"Uh huh. And I'm the queen." She says sarcastically. Spencer felt surprised to note that he liked her sarcastic comments. Few they were but still made him smile.

Cossette turns her back to the bed and falls back on it with a jump. She closes her eyes and curls up with a pillow. "Don't think too hard so late. Save the stressful thoughts for later."

"Do—do you think I'm pretty." Spencer asks.

Cossette opens one eye to examine him and Spencer thought he imagined it but her face does take on a redder hue but he simply explains it away with her having taken a hot shower.

"Honest truth? I think you're beyond pretty. I mean Derek is all macho and Hotchner has that stern vibe but you." Cossette pauses and closes her eyes again with a yawn. "Ya know, you're cute when you ramble those facts and you're damn near gorgeous when you wear those blazers. So yeah I think you're pretty. Where's this coming from? Did one of this cops say somethin'?"

"No I just."

"Do you doubt what I said was true?"

"No, but.."

"No butts. You're hot, pretty and gorgeous. Any bastard who tells you different is just jealous of you. For one you're kind and sweet. Super polite and well educated. You're easy to talk to and have a wonderful voice." The more she talked the quieter her voice got until Spencer looked over to see her sleeping.

"Spence! S-pence! Spencer!" Emily calls him a third time as he had been staring at Cossette'a empty desk after she left. And with her departure the buzzing of her music through her earbuds has also left him. It had only been a week since the last case and when Cossette had complimented him while also pushing away his fears. But in the process she also made him feel something strange. Unlike before the interaction, now whenever he had long conversations with her his eyes would unintentionally drift to her lips as she talked. And when she hummed or mumbled any song under her breath then he moved a little closer to hear. It was bad enough that he had even gotten a sharp grin from Morgan afterward.

During another case that was solved moderately swiftly the team still needed to stay in their hotel for the night (for sake of plot.) Spencer, who was awake as usual when all the other guys had already gone to sleep, heard as somewhere around four, one of the females left their room. Quietly he pokes his head to the conjoined door and notices Cossette isn't there in the bed with JJ. Standing, he slowly sneaks to the door. Not that he knows, his movement awakes Derek. He has to contain himself from telling the doctor to go get his girlfriend.

When Spencer finds her it's with her feet hanging over the edge of the pool. He hears her ragged breaths as she sings and mumbles through tears.

"Who gives a fuck about my nightmares?

'Cause I can barely focus when I'm like this

And lately, forty wings would be just priceless

I wrestle with myself and with my vices

But no one gives a fuck about my nightmares

But it's nothing you should worry yourself about (oh oh, oh oh)

It's nothing you should worry yourself about (oh oh, oh ohhh)

It's all a bit of fun until somebody gets hurt

I'll take it with a pinch of salt, another lesson learned"

~ nightmares by little life

"Is that how you really feel?" Spencer can't help himself from asking. He moves closer to her now still form as she tensed with his presence. Sitting beside her he lets one hand dip in the water. "I really hate cold water because on one of our cases a man kidnapped a boy and was going to drown him in a lake. I was the first one there so I had to swim out to save the boy while Derek and Hotch took care of the unsub. The water was cold like this." He says the last words with remorse. Could he not save the child?

"I just had a really bad nightmare," she shrugs her shoulders and wipes her eyes. "Wasn't about any case we had but, it was an unsub and he had this girl and I don't even know the girl but I swear to you it was happening on the front porch of my childhood home. He asks her if she wears hearing aids, maybe she's deaf or close to it. She says no and he said good, you won't be needing them. And then he screwed a bolt into the side of her head through her ear canal. I could hear her screaming, and then it changes and I'm the one being drilled into. I can't open my jaw or move my mouth because it it all hurts. My ear feels so hot like it's burning and there's something wet going down my neck. I can't breathe and then I wake up." She gives him a dry grin. "It's made no sense but it still freaked me out." She shakes her head again and her hair moves around her catching his eyes. She places her hands down against the edge of the pool and leans her head back to the stars. There weren't many due to how close they were to the city.

Spencer feels something bubble in his chest, like the feeling of drinking too much fizzy pop. Tentatively, scared, he gently places his hand over hers making her snap her head to him.

"What are you—?"

"Is it helping? 85% of adults have at minimum one nightmare a year. I'd...I'll be here if you have more." Spencer quirks a shy grin. Cossette smiles back and holds his hand before leaning against his shoulder.

The relationship between them became closer after that night.

Cossette walked out of the elevator into the bull pen with two coffees in hand while nodding her head to her music. She twirled around Spencer's desk before leaning against the corner with a bright smile. Spencer ducks his head with a smile as she sets the coffee down. "Crap ton of sugar, doll face." She says under her breath before turning and leaving with a skip away to see Penelope.

"What was that!" Derek asks with a laugh. "Ohhhh," Derek begins to raise his eyebrows up and down making Spencer fluster again.

"It's nothing."

"That didn't look like nothing," Rossi adds in passing while setting his things at his desk for the day. A soft smile melts the Italian man's face.

"Guys what's got everyone so smiley?" JJ asks as she too walks into the bull pen with folders in her hand.

"Pretty boy got coffee from his girlfriend. She made it just the way he likes it." Derek says the last part with more tease.

"She's not my girlfriend," Spencer reaches for the coffee and takes a sip with a soft smile.

"Not yet," Derek badgers.

It was only after a few more mornings like this that they began to go out on occasion. Spencer taking her to the book store when he found a book he thought she'd like.

"Don't expect me to read as fast as your Spence. This is— 300 pages in the least." Cossette smiled up at him.

"I don't expect you too but..." Spencer said sheepishly but she didn't let him finish.

"I'm just teasing, doc. At the very least I need an afternoon, hopefully we aren't called in when I get to the best part." She jests while gently holding the side of his vest. They hadn't progressed to holding hands yet. There was one time where she hooked her pinky around his. The innocent action made the boy genius flush and hide his face from her eyes.

"Hey Spence?"

"Yeah?"

"You should know something." She turned to stand in front of him. "You're pretty swell." She said in a mock English accent making Spencer crack a smile.

(Songs that will be included when this is finished. (This is reference for me but they’re good songs)

I’m beginning to see the light by ink spots.

Out of style by the Wrecks

Pumpkin the Regrettes

Old soul Saint motel

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!readr #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #oneshot #fluff #romance #unfinished

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sweetsweetjellybean · 1 year ago

Note

dear god please finish torn i am frothing at the mouth

I'm sorry my fingers are starting to smoke with their click clacking. I'm trying to get it out to you by tomorrow. Please accept this sneak peek as an offering. <slides it under the door and back away>

Hitching the strap of your messenger bag higher on your shoulder, you kick at a loose stone on the sidewalk in front of the brick building. Car horns blare in the distance as traffic rolls by in the busy neighborhood. The sun casts a glint off the steel CursedSound sign, its metal already weathering with a faint tinge of color. The heavy door is yanked open, its clank and whine making you jump even though the sound is expected.

"Hi," Eddie greets you from the other side of the threshold, the softness of his tone mirroring the gentleness in his eyes.

"Hi," you return, shyness adding a tremble to your voice that shouldn’t be there. His fingers grip the edge of the door, and light flashes off the Rolex peeking out from under the cuff of the plaid flannel he wears over a fitted v-neck and jeans, the fabric snug against his defined shoulders. It’s still a novelty to see how his slim build has filled in over the years, still expecting the boy you knew instead of this man in front of you. He looks you over the same way he did last time like he’s trying to decide if you’re really there. Maybe it’s the differences he sees in you, too, or does he look beyond the scars to the lonely girl he once knew? You shift your gaze away, down the street, your toes curling inside your Converse as a flush of warmth climbs up your neck. "Are you going to let me in?"

"I don't know." He pretends to ponder, a smile forming, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Where's your hard hat?"

Tilting your head to the side, you purse your lips until he breaks into a chuckle. He swings the door open wider to welcome you inside. You pass him with a shake of your head and continue down the dimly lit hall, now familiar with the layout.

The lobby is in utter chaos.

"Sorry for the mess. The maid took the week off," he quips as he watches you take in the sight before you.

The brown paper has been removed from the windows, allowing bright light to stream through the streaked and dirty glass. All the furniture has been pushed toward the center of the room, and ladders and paint cans litter the floor space. A large mural wrapping around the windows and front entrance has been outlined but not completed. In the same graffiti style as the one upstairs, this one displays more cityscapes with waves of the lake breaking at the forefront. Winged skulls and guitars blend with colorful swirls of clouds rising toward the ceiling. The colors brighten the deep tones of the space, capturing the essence of the city and the spirit of CursedSound.

"It’s perfect," you tell him as your eyes follow the sweeping, colorful lines around the room.

"Was that a compliment?" He asks, coming up behind you. "I thought it was a dump."

His breath, a warm whisper against your ear, spins you around. "Well, what can I say? It’s growing on me." Your fingers move to your lips, concealing your smile as his deepens.

"You look really good." His low voice bounces off the empty walls, "I mean…your, uh, outfit is nice." He waves his hand toward you before wiping it on the front of his jeans.

Your brows raise as you glance down at the jeans and plain tee with Lollapalooza written across the front. None of the trendy fashions you usually wore to interviews seemed to fit right today. Causing you to tug at necklines and fidget with the hems of three different outfits before settling on something casual. There’s nothing to hide behind – the armor is off. It’s time to hear him out.

"Wow, that was smooth," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I don’t know why I’m feeling nervous."

The fluttering in your stomach matches his energy. The shield of anger you’ve held between you is battered and worn thin, leaving uncertainty behind.

"It’s because I’m going to get you to spill all your secrets and print them so the whole world can sit in judgment."

A choked sound comes from his throat as his eyes widen into saucers.

Unable to keep a straight face, you giggle. "Relax, Eddie. I already told you I’m not writing some hit piece. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Besides," you shrug, "It’s only me."

A sharp breath escapes as his shoulders lower. "Yeah, you’re right," he takes a step forward, his gaze locking with yours, "After all these years, it's you.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson smut #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #jelly's asks #torn #torn series

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riversdarkblog · 1 year ago

Text

Pairings : Serial Killer Yelena Belova x Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, Blood, Drugging, Stalking, Skin Carving, Knife Marking, Manipulation, Family Member Death, Needles & Blood Licking

Pet Names/Nicknames: Little Dove & Detka

Word Count: 4,528

Y/N always visited her family members grave every month for the past year. As she walked into the grave she felt like something was off. She felt like someone was watching her. As she walked through the rows of graves she had looked around but she didn't see anyone in sight. Y/N had walked over to her little brother's grave before kneeling down and dusting off the gravestone. She put her messenger bag down on the ground before taking the dead flowers out of the little cup that was beside the grave before putting new ones in.

"Is that your brother" someone spoke up from behind Y/N causing her to jump slightly before looking over her shoulder to see a woman with blonde hair and green eyes. The blonde haired woman was wearing a black leather jacket over a green vest and a black turtle neck long sleeve shirt. She was wearing black ripped jeans and black combat boots that had black buckles on them. She was wearing gold rings on all of her fingers except for her ring finger. She had hand tattoos and a couple leg tattoos that were visible from her ripped jeans. She had a couple ear piercings and had a septum piercing along with an eyebrow piercing and a tongue piercing.

"Um yeah how'd you know" Y/N said with a frown and the woman just smiled slightly. "Just a lucky guess" the woman said before chuckling. Y/N's frown deepens slightly. "What's your name" the woman said and River shook her frown off. "It's Y/N. What's yours" Y/N asked and the woman just smirked before shoving her hands into her leather jacket pockets. "Why would I tell a complete stranger my name" she says before looking down at Y/N who had her eyes widened in shock. The woman laughed before shaking her head. "I'm joking the names Yelena" the woman said before smiling. "Oh it's nice to meet you then. Are you here to visit someone too" Y/N asked. "You could say that" Yelena said as she smiled down at Y/N. "Oh who are you visiting" Y/N asked before looking back at her brother's grave for a couple seconds. "You" Yelena said as she pulled out a syringe full of clear liquid. Y/N eyes widened in shock when she saw the syringe in the woman's hand.

Before Y/N could get up and run away Yelena was in her in 2 seconds. Yelena pinned Y/N on the ground by the back of her neck before taking off the cap on the needle with her teeth. "Would you quit squirming your not gonna get free" Yelena growled out before inserting the needle in Y/N's neck before pushing down on the syringe causing the liquid to go into Y/N's neck. Y/N immediately felt the effects of the drug that was put into her body before her eyes closed and she went limp. Yelena gets off Y/N's back before lifting Y/N up from the ground. Yelena carries Y/N bridal style to her black car and puts her in the back before grabbing the rope that was on the floor and tying Y/N's hands together. Yelena shut the back door before getting into the driver's seat and drove off after turning her car on. Yelena drove for two hours straight until she came across a dirt road and drove up it. She parked in front of a mansion and turned the car off before getting out and shutting the door loudly. she opened the back door to see Y/N was still unconscious before grabbing her and putting her over her shoulder before shutting the door and making her way up to the mansion. she was halfway up the steps when the door opened causing her to loo up to see her butler. "Miss. Belova your back already" he asked and Yelena nodded before stopping in front of him and towering over him. "Yeah now be a dear and tell everyone to go home" Yelena said and the butler's eyes widen in shock. "Are you sure" he said as he looked at the young girl that was slung over Yelena's shoulder. "Yes now go" Yelena said sternly and the man nodded before rushing of quickly to go tell the other workers to go home. Yelena walked through the doorway before shutting the door behind her.

Yelena made her way over to the staircase before walking up it. Once she reached the top she started walking down the long hallway on the left of the staircase. She walked down the hall for a couple seconds until she stopped in front of a black wooden door. she opened it and walked in before shutting the door behind her. She walked over to the king sized bed before dropping Y/N on the silk sheets before untying her wrists. She looked down at Y/N before smirking as she walked over to the bedside table and opened the draw. she pulled out a pair of handcuffs before walking over to the bed post and clasping one cuff around it before grabbing Y/N's left wrist and clasping the other cuff around her wrist and making sure it wasn't loose.

After another hour Y/N had woken up and tried to roll over but she couldn't causing her to open her eyes and look up to see she was handcuffed to the bedpost causing her eyes to widen in shock before she sat up and looked around the room landing on a woman with blonde hair. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw who it was. "Good you're finally awake" Yelena said as she stood up from her chair that was in the corner of the room before walking towards Y?N. "S-stay away from me" Y/N stuttered out causing Yelena to laugh before stopping right in front of Y/N. "No need to be scared Y/N" Yelena said before smirking as she grabbed Y/N's jaw before leaning in. Y/N kicked Yelena in the knee causing Yelena to grunt as she glared at Y/N while tightening her grip on Y/N's jaw. "That was seriously uncalled for" Yelena said and Y/N clenched her jaw tightly and tries to kick Yelena's knee again but Yelena grabs Y/N's leg. "Come on stop fighting me" Yelena growled out as she started to get annoyed. "No way you kidnapped me" Y/N shouted causing Yelena to roll her eyes. "It was for your own good Y/N, you need someone to look after you and protect you from danger and I can do that for you" Yelena said and Y/N glared up at Yelena. "I don't need someone to protect me I can protect myself" Y/N spat out causing Yelena to laugh before she pulled away. "Well then how was I able to kidnap you if you can protect yourself huh" Yelena said and Y/N looked away. "Just accept your fate Y/N this is your life now, you're mine now" Yelena purred out before smirking. "I'm not yours and i never will be now let me go" Y/N said as she glared up at Yelena who smirked again. "Come on you don't want me to hurt your family do you? If you accept that you're mine and be good I won't hurt anyone you love but on the other hand if you don't I'll kill every single one of them without so much as a glance" Yelena said and Y/N's eyes widened in shock as she gulped.

Y/N thought for a few seconds before looking up at Yelena. "Fine only because I don't want anybody else I love dying" Y/N said and Yelena nodded her head as her smirk widened before she pulled out the handcuff key. "You better not try and run away when I unlock the handcuffs got it" Yelena said and Y/N nodded her head before Yelena unlocked the cuffs. Y/N rubbed her wrist before looking up at Yelena. "Now come on I'll show you around" Yelena said as she stepped back and started heading to the door. she looked over her shoulder to see Y/N still sitting on the bed. she rolled her eyes before walking back over and grabbing Y/N's right wrist before pulling her up and dragging her to the door. Y/N follows Yelena quietly as they exit the bedroom. Y/N looks around the big hallway before her eyes widen in shock. "Is this a mansion" Y/N asks ad Yelena looks back at Y/N before nodding her head. "Yeah so if you try and escape the security alarms will immediately go off notifying me that you tried to escape" Yelena said and Y/N gulped. Yelena pulls Y/N down the long staircase before making her way to the dining room. "Sit down" Yelena says before letting go of Y/N and pointing to a chair. Yelena watches Y/N walk over to the chair and sit down. "Now don't move anywhere I'll know if you do" Yelena said before walking into the kitchen the double door closing behind her. Y/N looks around the dining room and sees a dogs bed in the far corner causing her to frown since she hasn't see any dog yet. She looks away from the dog bed and looks out the floor length window to see tons and tons of trees. Yelena comes back out of the kitchen with two plates in her hands a couple minutes to see Y/N looking out one of the floor length windows. "Like the view" Yelena said as she placed a plate of food in front of Y/N causing Y/N to snap out of her trance to look down at the plate of food. "Is it poisoned" Y/N asks and Yelena laughs before walking around the long table and sitting in the chair across from Y/N. "No it's not poisoned" Yelena said as she started digging into her food as she watched Y/N look down at her food.

Y/N looked back up at Yelena who was already looking at her. "I'm not really hungry" Y/N said pushing the plate away from her causing Yelena to roll her eyes. Yelena stood up causing Y/N to look up. "Eat or you won't eat at all" Yelena growled out causing Y/N to gulp before grabbing her plate and started eating her food. Yelena sat back down before going back to eating her food. After Yelena finished her food she got up and grabbed her plate before making her way back through the double doors to the kitchen. Y/N watched her before she looked around again. Her eyes landed back on the big dog bed that was in the corner. "That's for my dog Franny" Yelena spoke up causing Y/N to jump before looking over to see Yelena standing right next to her. "Where is she or he at" Y/N asked and Yelena smiled. "With a good friend of mine" Yelena said not wanting to say with her sister unless Y/N does escape and calls the police and has her sister arrested as well. "Oh" Y/N said and Yelena nodded her head. "Are you done eating" Yelena asked and Y/N nodded. Yelena grabbed Y/N's plate before walking away again and back into the kitchen. Y/N looked over at the kitchen double doors before she slowly got out of the chair. She quietly made her way to the dining doors and quietly opened them before sneaking through them. She looked around and looked to her left to see the front doors a couple feet away from where she's standing. She rushed over to the front doors and reached for one of the handles when the door opened causing her to back up. She looked up to see a woman with Red hair and green eyes looking down at her. She looked past the tall woman before dashing past her and out of the door. "Lena" The woman shouted causing her voice to echo through the whole mansion. The door to the dining hall opened and Yelena had a calm expression on her face. "Your little thing just escaped" the woman said and Yelena just rolled her eyes. "I know that sister I have the security feed on my phone" Yelena said as she looked down at her phone and watched Y/N run down the steps. "You're not worried she'll get away" Yelena's sister says and Yelena laughs before pressing a button on her phone. As she presses the button there's a loud scream outside. Yelena's sister looks over her shoulder to see Y/N curled up in a ball on one of the steps.

"Lena what did you do" Yelena's sister said and Yelena just smirked as she walked past her sister. "Nothing you need to worry about Tasha" Yelena said and Natasha rolled her eyes before following her sister down the steps. Yelena stops behind Y/N before kneeling down. "I told you if you tried to escape I would know" Yelena said causing Y/N to whimper in pain. Yelena pressed the button again causing the shocker to turn off. "What the fuck was that" Y/N muttered out causing Yelena to chuckle before yanking her up off the ground. "Just a little something aa friend made" Yelena said before smirking wickedly. "Is it what I think it is" Natasha said and Yelena's eyes darken slightly. Natasha grabs Yelena and drags her away from Y/N who just stands there. "Are you serious Lena that was just a prototype it could malfunction" Natasha whispered out and Yelena rolled her eyes. "I had to test it somehow and what better way to do it then use it on Y/N" Yelena said and Natasha glared down at her little sister. "You're fucking crazy Lena it could kill her, why didn't you use it on a animal instead" Natasha growled out and Yelena rolled her eyes before yanking her arm away. "Because it's not as fun that's why" Yelena whispered out and Natasha sighed before rubbing her forehead. Natasha looked back over at Y/N who was looking at the two of them before she smirked causing Y/N to look away.

"Now Y/N why don't you be good and get back inside the mansion" Yelena said and Y/N glared at her causing Yelena to hover over the button on her phone. Y/N clenched her jaw before walking past the two shoving the two away from each other as she headed back into the Mansion. "She's a feisty one" Natasha said and Yelena nodded her head. "Now why are you here Natasha" Yelena said and Natasha looks back at her sister. "Oh right I have something you might want to know but we should go to your office for this" Natasha said and Yelena nodded before the two made their way back into the mansion and headed up the stairway to Yelena's office. Meanwhile with Y/N she was sitting in the living room when she heard shouting coming from upstairs. She looked towards the living room door before looking back at the TV that wasn't on. After a couple of seconds she hears something shatter causing her to jolt. She looked up when the door to the living room opened and Yelena walked in looking calm which scared Y/N. Yelena walks over to the small bar that was in the living room in one of the corners before walking behind it and grabbing a bottle of vodka. Yelena opens the bottle before drinking some of it from the bottle. Yelena looks over at Y/N who is already looking at her. "Do you want some" Yelena said and Y/N shook her head no. "I'm not allowed I'm not old enough" Y/N said causing Yelena to frown as she set the bottle of vodka down on the bar top. "How old are you Y/N" Yelena said and Y/N looked down at her lap. "19" Y/N said and Yelena's eyes widen in shock.

A week later Y/N is sitting in the living room again when the door opens. She looks up to see Yelena walking in before Yelena walks over to her. "Get up I'm taking you somewhere" Yelena said and Y/N stood up before following Yelena out of the mansion. "Where are we going" Y/N asked and Yelena looking over her shoulder. "To a diner I'm tired of the food here I need some delicious greasy food" Yelena said as she made her way down the steps. "Oh and don't try to run or ask for help when we get there got it" Yelena said and Y/N nodded her head. The two made their way down the steps before walking up to a black truck. Yelena opened the passenger side and helped Y/N in before shutting the door and walking over to the driver's side before getting in. She shuts the driver's door before turning on the truck and driving out of the long driveway. After a while of driving Yelena stops in front of an old fashioned diner before turning the truck off. She gets out of the truck before walking around it and opens the passenger door. "Come on" Yelena said and Y/N jumps out and jumps when Yelena slams the truck door behind her before chuckling. She walks to the Right rear door before opening it and pulling out a big case before unlocking it and opening it. She grabbed her gun before putting in in the back of her jeans before closing the case and putting it back under the seat before shutting the truck door and locking it. "Alright let's go" Yelena said and made her way towards the dinner following Y/N. The two walked into the old diner and there were only four other people. Yelena smiled as she put a hand on Y/N's back as they pasted the four men before walking to a corner booth and sitting down. After a couple minutes a waitress comes up "Hello what can I get for you two ladies" the waitress says and Yelena looks up from the menu. "I'll have a black coffee and mac & cheese with hot sauce" Yelena said and the waitress nodded before looking at Y/N who was sitting beside Yelena. "And what would you like Miss." the waitress said and Y/N looked up. "Um I'll have some Dr. Pepper and some chicken with ranch please" Y/N said and the waitress nodded before walking away after writing down what Y/N ordered. Yelena looked over at Y/N to see her looking down and picking at her fingers. "Stop doing that" Yelena whispered out and Y/N stopped before the waitress came back over and placed their drinks in front of them. "Your food will be out in a couple minutes if you need anything my names Anna" the waitress said before walking away. Yelena watches the waitress walk away before taking a drink from her cup of coffee. Y/N takes a sip of her Dr. Pepper before looking at Yelena. Yelena looks over and smirks at Y/N. "What are you staring at" Yelena says and Y/N looks away before taking another sip of her soda while waiting for the food to arrive.

The food arrives a couple minutes later and the waitress puts the food down in front of the two before walking away. Y/N starts digging into her chicken as Yelena pours hot sauce over her mac & cheese causing Y/N to look at her in disgust. "That's absolutely disgusting" Y/N said and Yelena glares at Y/N. "No its delicious" Yelena says her Russian accent slipping out causing Y/N to shiver slightly. After a couple minutes Yelena get up from the table causing Y/N to look up. "I'm going to the bathroom don't even think about going anywhere or you'll get shocked got it" Yelena whispered out and Y/N nodded as she watched Yelena walk towards the bathroom before looking up to see the four men at the bar still talking and laughing. Y/N looks back over to the bathroom door before getting up quickly and making her way over to the men. "Um excuse me" Y/N says and the men stop talking before looking over at Y/N. "What is it" a man with blonde hair said as he looked at Y/N "Um I need help I've been kidnaped by a serial killer" Y/N said and the men all look at each other before laughing. "Please I'm telling the truth I need help" Y/N said and the men keep laughing. "Kid stop joking around" the black haired man said and Y/N looked at the bathroom door before looking back at the four men. "Please I'm telling the truth her names Yelena she's the one that's in the bathroom right now, please I'm not joking around I need help" Y/N plead and the men looked at her. "Kid there's no one named Yelena in this town" the blonde haired man said and before Y/N could speak she felt a hand on her lower back. "Is this girl bothering you gentlemen" someone said behind her and Y/N froze in place when she realized it was Yelena. "This young girl says she was kidnapped" The blacked haired man said and Yelena let out a chuckle. "I'm sorry she told you she was kidnapped she hasn't taken any of her pills today so she's kinda crazy in the head from a bad experience she had a couple years ago" Yelena said and the men all look at Y/N was a sad expression. "Sorry to hear that I hope she gets better soon" one of the other men said and Yelena nodded her head before grabbing Y/N by the arm and dragging her out of the diner and back to the black truck.

Yelena shoves Y/N into the passenger side before slamming the door shut and walking over to the drivers side and getting in. After she shuts the door behind her she looks at Y/N with a pissed off expression. "I told you not to tell people you were kidnapped, I told you to stay in the booth and wait for me to get back" Yelena growled out as she looked at Y/N who was looking down. "Look at me" Yelena shouted causing Y/N to look up at her. Yelena grabbed Y/N's jaw and yanks her forward. "You will get punished for that when we get back to the mansion" Yelena seethed out and Y/N's eyes widen in shock as Yelena shoved her face away. Yelena started the truck before driving away from the diner and heading back to the diner. She parked in front of the mansion a couple minutes later and turns the truck off before turning towards Y/N. She took out another syringe that had the same black liquid as before and Y/N's eyes widen in shock as she tried to open the truck door but it wouldn't open. Yelena took the cap off and grabbed Y/N's haw again before putting her knee on Y/N's legs so she wouldn't move. She stuck the needle into Y/N's neck before pushing down on it. She watched the black liquid disappear before pulling out the syringe. After a couple minutes Y/N goes limp making Yelena smirk. She got out of her truck before shutting the door and walking over to the passenger door and opening it. Yelena lifts Y/N out of the truck before slamming the door shut. She makes her way up the stairs to the mansion before putting her code in and walking into the mansion. She shuts the door behind her before making her way to the staircase. She made her way up when a voice spoke up. "Lena what happened" Natasha said and Yelena looked up to see Natasha at the top of the stairs. "She tried escaping so I drugged her" Yelena said and Natasha raised an eyebrow.

Yelena makes her way to her bedroom before opening the door and walking over to the bed. She dropped Y/N onto the bed before straddling the back of her legs. She pushes Y/N's shirt up before tracing Y/N's skin. She takes her knife out from her boot before placing the knife against Y/N's skin. "Gonna look so pretty with my initials on your back and now you'll know who you belong to and won't try to run away again" Yelena whispered out before she started carving her initials into Y/N's shoulder. She watched as blood runs down Y/N's back before leaning down and licking some of it up. She sighs as she closes her eyes before opening them as she looks down at her work. Under her initials she had carved an hourglass symbol into Y/N skin. "Everyone will know who you belong to little dove" Yelena said as she grabbed Y/N's left arm and carves her initial's on Y/N's left wrist as well. She grabs Y/N's right wrist before carving the hourglass symbol into her right wrist. Yelena watched as blood dripped down both of Y/N's wrists and onto the white sheets before smirking. She got off of Y/N before setting her bloody knife on the bedside table before leaving the bedroom and making her way to the bathroom to get bandages and wraps.

She walks out of the bathroom a couple minutes later and she sees Natasha standing there with her arms crossed over her chest. "Shouldn't you be back with your wife Natasha" Yelena said getting annoyed at her sister for staying in her mansion for so long. "She can handle herself Lena plus she's a serial killer just like us" Natasha said and Yelena rolled her eyes before making her way back to her bedroom where Y/N was still out cold from the drug Yelena used on her. She made her way back into her bedroom and walked back over to her bed before getting on top of Y/N again. She started bandaging up Y/N's wounds before cleaning up the blood that went down Y/N's back. She got off of Y/N again before grabbing her knife and licking the blood off of it. "You'll be mine forever now since you have my initials and symbol on you" Yelena muttered out as she sat down in the chair that was in the corner before smiling. "I can't wait for the future and what it brings us Detka" Yelena whispered out again before her eyes closed.

Taglist: @yelenasdiary @red1culous @i-lov3-w0men @marvelfan98 @whoreforblackhill @emmytaysversion @livin4theeradictor @music-4ever

#Serial Killer Yelena Belova #Dark Yelena Belova #Yelena Belova x Reader #Yelena Belova #Yelena Belova my Baby 🤍💛

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0-3lli0t-0 · 10 months ago

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((I KNOW I LATE BUT HERE :) also its kinda long so i hope you do read it all it was fun to write !! :D ))

March 10th (Part 1/2) Remus woke up to the sunlight pouring into the empty dorm room. He ran a hand down his face rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. A yawn escaped his lips as he sat up stretching his joints cracking slightly. He exhaled and slowly got to his feet, doing a brief glance around the room, again noticing that it was empty. It confused him, normally the others were notorious for sleeping in on a weekend and Remus was not. He pushed the thought aside and began to get dressed for the day. He pulled on one of his famous ‘Moony’ jumpers as Sirius called them and a pair of cozy trousers. He picked up his messenger-style bag off the floor and placed it on his bed for the time being. He put in a few books; Little Woman as well as another that Regulus had recommended to him. He tucked his way into the bag, as well as his journal and a regulus muggle pen. He preferred to use them instead of quills. He closed his bag and put it over his his so it sat across his body. He ran a hand through his hair tousling it slightly. He slipped on a pair of coffee-coloured Converse before leaving the dorm and making his way down into the common room. Still, his friends were nowhere to be found, and a slight frown formed on his face. Had they forgotten?

"Good Morning Remus," The sound of Lily's cheerful tone broke through Remus' thoughts.

Remus formed a small smile, "Morning Lily" he replied. "Do you know by chance where the others are?" he asked.

Lily's smile turned into more of a mischievous grin. "Oh yes, I do believe they are in the great hall. They all wanted you to sleep in on you birthday morning, Happy Birthday by the way."

Remus' shoulders relaxed a bit, "Thank you Lily." he replied. "Have you already gone and eaten? Or would you like to join me?"

"Oh I've gone already, you go on," Lily replied. Her smile scared Remus a bit, it had to mean that the others mainly James and Sirius were up to something.

"Okay, well I'll see you around Lily," Remus said and began to head towards the exit of the common room and out into the hallway. He exhaled a little, as he headed down the corridors and towards the great hall.

Once he stepped inside he wished he hadn’t. As soon as he stepped in. He heard two loud and booming voices of James and Sirius echo around the hall.

"Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday to you Happy birthday dear Moony Happy birthday to youuuuu!!"

Remus' face grew bright red, he really didn't like being the centre of attention. Did he appreciate the gesture he wished they hadn't gone and done it in front of the whole school. He turned to walk out only to be greeted by Lily who snapped a Polaroid photo of him.

Remus blinked from the flash and walked passed her without a word, heading towards the library. He didn't want to have to face all those people. He could hear Sirius shout after him but he didn't quite catch what he was saying.

To let out a long exhale as he entered the library, he walked over to the back corner and sat in one of the cozy chairs there. He set his bag down and pulled out his book. He brought his legs up onto the chair. He opened where his bookmark was and picked up where he last left off before bed last night.

He had been reading for about five or so minutes when he heard the footfalls of someone "Moony I am so sorry," Sirius began to day. "I thought it would be a fun idea great way to start off your birthday but clearly I was a complete fucking idiot and ruined everything, I know you don't like attention, I know what the hell I was thinking." Sirius rambled on.

This brought a light chuckle from Remus, he closed his book and slipped it back into his bag. He then got to his feet and smiled at him, "It's okay Sirius, it was a nice thought. Maybe just next time try and contain it to just our friends, the whole school doesn't need to know" he said.

"i beg to differ but as you wish Moony" Sirius smiled at him. "Will you come back to the great hall, Pete and Lily made sure that your favourite breakfast would be there... and i made you some tea"Remus smiled a bit, "Sirius, my favourite breakfast is toast. We always have toast" he said "But thank you anyways" he said. "yes let's head back."

They two headed back and they sat side by side at the table. Remus happily ate the toast that was made for him and sipped the tea, which he did use a spell to heat it up again as it did get a bit cold. He conversed with his friends, each of whom apologized for the scene they had created, of course, Remus forgave them. He even let Lily keep the photo for the memories. part 2:

#marauders era #dead gay wizards #marauders #remus lupin #fanfic #sirius black #remus x sirius #wolfstar #wolfstar oneshot #wolfstar fanfiction

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sophie1973 · 9 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

Thank you so much to my beloved @stellarm and @onthewaytosomewhere for the tags

Since I posted a big chapter for Bloodstream yesterday (here) I took a break for 24 hrs and focused on my other (small town/lake house) WIP

Story : Henry is a hotelier in London, but his life has become unbearable, so he flees to Texas, where he inherited a house from his aunt (yes I gave Arthur Fox a sister).

I promise I'm working on a better summary. Also, this is a first draft.

The view of the lake is stunning.

Henry puts his messenger bag on the kitchen counter, taking in the inside of the house. There is a spacious cottage-style kitchen with all the modern appliances. A couple of steps lead to a cozy living room with a stonewall fireplace and comfortable couches. There’s a gigantic bookshelf filled to the brim with books, and he smiles for the first time in weeks.

He knows his aunt Marjorie shared the same taste in books as he does, so it’s good to know he’s covered for a while, mainly since most of his own, aside from a few favorites, remained in England.

And he’s not going back for a long, long while.

He needed to get his suitcase out of the rental car, but his priority was to get David out after the one-hour-and-a-half drive from Austin so he could do his business—directly on the car's tire, no less- and get into the house.

This house left to him by his aunt, who probably saved his life by doing so.

He can still hear Pez’s voice in his head (“Just go, Hazza. Fuck that Wicked Witch of the West. I’ll miss you, but I prefer you alive.) and Bea softly smiling at him because she knows. She understands.

That same smile looks at him from the picture on the kitchen counter, a teenage Bea with her arm around him, always the protective big sister. He stares at his own face, a young boy with a big smile, and wonders how it all went so wrong.

Next to that picture is another one of Marjorie and Arthur. They are in their mid-twenties, looking young and beautiful. She never followed in her brother’s footsteps, choosing a quiet life away from the media, but unlike him, she had the chance to grow old and live a fulfilling life.

His father remains eternally young, his face and smile frozen in time in family pictures and film pellicles.

A sudden wave of grief grips Henry’s chest, making him stumble, and he sits down on the steps, trying to catch his breath. He hasn’t had one in a while, probably because he was too busy packing his stuff and leaving everything behind.

His job, which he loves, but he can’t bear the toxic environment created by his grandmother anymore.

His family, even though he will only truly miss Bea. They have promised each other to keep in touch several times a week despite the time difference, and she will come to see him soon.

London, where he lived all his life.

So here he is, 5000 miles from home in Small Town, Texas (otherwise known as Horseshoe Bay), where he doesn’t know anyone and has no idea what the Bloody Hell he will do with his life.

It is terrifying. Part of him knows he should find it exhilarating, but he is having trouble connecting with his optimistic self right now.

He doesn’t even know where to start.

Henry feels a wet nudge at his arm. He looks down, sees David looking at him with his big puppy eyes, and laughs through tears he hadn’t realized were falling. The beagle puts its paw on his arm and tries to lick his face, and he pulls the dog against him, pressing a kiss and nuzzling his nose in its soft fur.

“We’ll be alright, my darling. We’ll be alright.”.

No pressure tag, and sorry if you already did it and I missed it : @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @piratefalls@anincompletelist@itsmaybitheway @tintagel-or-cockleshells@orchidscript@happiness-of-the-pursuit@pridepages

#red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #Henry the Burnt out Hotelier #Alex the Charming Veterinarian #rwrb fic #Sophie1973

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exoticalmonde · 14 days ago

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LUNDInium Outskirts /Part VIII/

Starting off strong today with Dr. Kryo's growing potential in digital art. This is all of us on a dinner date, so left from the depressed looking Mlynar we have Dr. Lundi, Hoederer, Dr. Eve, Surtr, Dr. Kryo.

Per usual, Mlynar is considering the loss of Lundi's gargantuan ice cream. I'm never shutting up, and Surtr is probably baffled at how much food this bottomless pit called a Draco can fit.

Based on this:

---

Even though this isn't a doodle per se, it's incredibly funny for us since Dr. Kryo is very popular for the snack drawer, Dr. Lundi has a chips drawer, Dr. Pinkie owns the fish buffet and I, your host, Dr. Eve have everything your Slavic grandmother has in that one snack cupboard in the living room/kitchen.

Here, have at theе,

WAIT, I have not shown you all the rooms that all of our Doctors decided to put together, have I???

Let's take you on a little tour, my darling readers.

We can start off with Dr. Kryo's Office

Dr. Kryo, you're still here? Hard-working I see. Do you have anything to add about your choice of decor? I'm going to go to Lundi's ship after this.

Dr. Kryo: "My office? Well first off the interior design is Siracusa based cuz ya know, love the style they got goin' on there. Starting from my desk I suppose, nothin' too crazy about, just any old office desk, same with the chair. That cabinet and notice board I had from how this place previously looked at one point and thought them too handy to get rid of so I decided to keep 'em there."

"That sign with the mountains was a gift and I didn't really have anywhere to put it so here it lies in my office. The armchair, couch and side table were recommendations for the interior design and I rocked with it so here it is. So was the coffee table in the middle. That skull ornament was also a gift to me and hell, it looked really cool so I needed to have it in here."

"Now that fridge and cabinet? Those are possibly the most important things in this room. Those are the refreshments that keep me and some of my operators going when needed. Those 2 will never leave this room. Especially the fridge or else a certain redhead will get mad at me."

And the Bedroom with all the comforts one can desire, I see.

Dr. Kryo: "My room...

Now, in here is actually rather simple compared to my office. To be honest, the most grandiose thing about this room is the view you get, but other than that it's your sorta standard room. Normal bed, couch, nightstand, coffee table, TV. I forgot where I got that cabinet from but it's there. Those 2 baskets have snacks in them. Judging how I sang the fridge and cabinet's praises in my office, you know the importance of these."

---

Now, we're going to Dr. Lundi's Office.

Don't uh-- Don't be intimidated by the operators you see in there, okay? I know they're all sad, frowning middle-aged men, but it's okay, hold my hand. They're pretty nice fellows. And Sesa.

Oh, Dr. Lundi, I was just showing people your Office. Would you like to tell us a little bit more about it?

Dr. Lundi: "We pretend that's Mlynars messenger bag for when he goes out wandering obscurely. Shelf of Dr Lundi's favourite music albums. She cares for them deeply. The fridge is full of energy drinks and Mountain Dew. There is a corner dedicated to building guns. Sesa is usually found here. Dr. Lundi does NOT care if what he is doing is technically illegal. In fact, she encourages it, as a Sankta." (He likes to build guns and is canonically trying to make them shoot more than once, which is currently not possible for non-Sanktas to do with patron firearms. It is elaborated in his module if you're curious.) "Gun collection. to the left. Dr Lundi has 1 main rifle and a back-up rifle. (AX50 main, VSS Vintorez backup, if you want names.) Box of ammunition under her office table as well as on every single available shelf. Haphazardly tapes papers onto the wall cause she always puts off getting a proper corkboard for the wall. Files scattered everywhere. Some are probably important. Mlynar has stopped trying to fix this behaviour. Little ottoman with a blanket for long nights. Posters for decor rather than pictures. I know the guitar is… a guitar... But please pretend it's a bass, picked up in Siesta at some point. It was a great pain to bring home safely. Plants that require the BARE minimum of care. She asked Flamebringer for assistance when choosing."

What about your bedroom?

Dr. Lundi: "Bedroom???????????"

Dr. Lundi: "Bar. Cause that's what she does. Mlynar hates it as a non-drinker. She makes alcohol-free stuff for him, of course. Posters, banners and plaques. Reminds her of Laterano."

"Her bed is a bunk, because of space distribution. She sleeps on the top bunk so Mlynar can use the laptop placed on it whenever he has to work." (There is a laptop on this bunkbed, I promise.)

"Every morning (or rather, when she wakes up, which could be at any time), she plays the shooty arcade game, which Executor obviously helped install, as the walking supercomputer and tech-wiz.

Ah, how refreshing to be in the company of such different people. I love looking at places where people live because you get to see how they live. You can see the Siracusa-inspired vibe and the Laterano-born desire to always have Emperor somewhere.

---

We haven't spoken about this yet, but Dr. Pinkie's RI 00 is, after all, the first to ever be built. Naturally, they'd have all the necessary parts to make the most of it, so I think just showing all of it in one post won't be enough.

For now, I'll feature all of our pride and joy - the bunny room.

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Last, but not least, we have my room...

I'll be honest I don't know if it's as cool as other people's but I really like it as my own. A quiet little corner do to paperwork in and probably nap for 4 hours every day.

I got the bookshelves installed in the wall to make space for everything else and then filled it with all my Yan slash and Ursus historical romance novels. Kal'tsit doesn't approve, I'll tell you that. When we went shopping for curtains Hoederer said these looked familiar, so we went along with his instinct. The sunsets are always so beautiful to watch from here.

I love this chair because Operator Lumen recommended it. He's always on my back for having a weird posture and I sit for way too long, so this was bought with me (him) in mind. The couch and coffee table are free to use. Many of the children come crash at the office after school, so I keep some blankets around for them.

Istina, Robin, Absinthe, and even Odda started showing up recently. I know many of them aren't kids in the literal sense, but at some point, we all start missing sleeping after lunch.

The wall decoration? Some Operators have a condition caused by Originium that has us shed our horns every couple of years. It's been only with Elafia. Those there are my first shed after I woke up. I'm sorry if it's a little strange.

Nothing else to be noted... I like keeping some fresh lilies in the office, they kind of started happening after Hortus De Escapismo and I guess everybody went along with it. Courrier comes once in a while with letters from people and at one point it became such a mess! We had a Kjerag letter holder imported and installed.

My bedroom has a lot going on.

We sleep together with Hoederer here but he isn't at all surprised to see that there's a mix of Yan/Higashi and Laterano in here. I like the light and the view is spectacular early in the morning. I'm somehow very lucky to always have the sunrise in my bedroom and dusk in my office. Whether I get to see them is a different story, of course.

We also often work here too, Hoederer shows all sorts of historical texts and I bother him with the things I'm writing in exchange. I've got a book nook and our bed was a small expensive indulgence of mine.

I'm made fun of a lot for it.

After Ebenholz and Lessing came back from Leithanien together, he asked me to keep Kreide's cello safe, so I do. I can't play it, but we make sure there's never a speck of dust on that case.

Chongyue has expressed concern about how many mementoes of people I keep, but instead of thinking of my own bedroom as a graveyard of my affection, I like to see it as budding hope. These purple flowers, the cello, and the Sami books, all survived. Somebody might want them in the future, I have no problem of parting with them if it's for the aid of others.

---

IN BETTER NEWS, WE'RE BACK WITH THE DOODLES

We always have all sorts of inspiration shooting left and right, it's up to the mood whether they come to fruition. Like how this did...

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I actually just randomly prompted this, because I wanted Boothill and Mlynar to interact. You know, the horse and the cowboy...

I saw it in a vision.

---

BEST OF ALL TODAY!!!

We are all getting chibis!!!

You'd finally get to see what the Doctors look like in HD. Words I will immediately follow with this picture of the concept.

I think it's very important to see the development in it since we all sat there for HOURS watching Lundi's stream as she turned a white space into the personification of what we all have always wanted to be:

An actual team.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I look up and see miracles happening on screen too.

As a refresher (or for anybody who just doesn't know) so far this team of rats consists of an Aegir - Pinkie; A Sankta - Lundi; A Draco - Kryo; and a Chimera (Pantheon) - Eve.

So very soon after, it was all coming so well together. We couldn't possibly wait to have it finished.

We immediately had to make memes.

Which you will see in the next post because we somehow already reached the 30-image limit on the website. STAY TUNED! <3

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arlana-likes-to-write · 2 years ago

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Hey I absolutely love your writing! I had an idea for the big sister! universe if you’re interested. Maybe sometime after Natasha and Yelena escape but before the red room falls reader is on a mission and has a close call with Natasha and Yelena who are on their own mission. Reader has to find a way to keep them safe without them finding out she’s there while still trying to complete her own mission. Just a thought - feel free to use it if you want to! Hope you’re having a good day!

I am so sorry this took me forever to write! But I hope you like it. I do love this little AU

A Helping Hand

Black Widow Sister Masterlist

Warning: mention of human, implied physical torture

Word Count: 2.8k

2013 Edinburgh

It was rare that Dreykov sent you on a mission. He liked to keep you close so he could keep an eye on you. If he needed to do work for him another Widow was dispatched to retrieve them and your part of the job was done in the Red Room. So it was a nice change of pace as you sat in the safe house; looking down at the street and sipping on coffee. You felt like you were on vacation. The mission was simple. You were tasked with observing a politician by the name of Benjamin Taylor. Everything you learned was to be reported directly to Dreykov. The miss was below your kill level but you learned quickly to never question an order. Your safe house was near Benjamin’s home. You already put mics and cameras in his home and office. You were listening to him get ready for the day. It was disgustingly cute as you listened to him joke around with his wife.

You’ve been following him for 2 days so you’ve had his routine memorized. You placed your cup down and grabbed your messenger back. It was 8:25, he would be leaving for his office at 8:30. You put your headphones in, a beanie on, and headed out. You were able to copy his phone when you bumped into him at a cafe. You had to admit if the Red Room didn’t send you on a mission you couldn’t have guessed Benjamin was dirty. Today, you hoped it was going to be different. He was meeting with Elijah Brown, from your research you could find nothing on him. Not even a passport.

Benjamin left his home and headed to his office. It was a 30-minute walk which gave you time to think. Mostly your thoughts were about the mission but sometimes your mind would wander. You pretended you were a normal person on your way to work or a student who was going to a nearby cafe to study. Those thoughts made you lonely. Benjamin entered his office building and you walked to the cafe not far. You had time before he got to his office. You listened to him greet everyone that worked for him. He did it every morning. You ordered a small breakfast and found a quiet table in the corner. You pulled out your tablet, plugging your headphones in there instead of your phone. You pulled up the security footage. Benjamin was sitting on the corner of his secretary's desk. You fully believed he was having an affair with her. You took a few books and notebooks out of your bag. Your cover was a student. A waitress placed a glass of water and a coffee down and you thanked her with a smile. You readjusted the tablet so no one would see it. He finally went into his office.

You were mindlessly listening to him talk phone calls and answer emails. As he went about his day, you were skimming through your textbooks and ate the food you ordered. The books were about the various languages in Asia. You found the topic fascinating. “Your 9:30 is here, sir.” You closed the book and focused on the security camera.

“Thank you, Holly.” She nodded with a smile and held the door open as a man walked in. His hair was dirty blonde, cut in a military style. He was wearing an all-black suit and you could tell he was carrying a gun at his side. Holly closed the door. It was like a switch flipped in Benjamin’s personality. His smile fell and a dark look was in his eyes. “It’s dangerous for you to be showing your face around here.”

“We have a problem,” you took a screenshot of the man’s face and put it through facial recognition software. In no time you found the man’s real name; Hans Meyer. It was a name you recognized. He was a big player in a human trafficking ring.

“Oh Mr. Taylor, what have we got yourself into?” You mumbled. You saw the waitress walking over to you and you took your headphones off.

“Can I get you anything else?” She asked, collecting your empty dishes.

“I’m all set,” you added an English accent. It was such a flawless switch. “But can I stay here until I’m done with my assignment?” You added with a smile.

“Of course,” her smile was flirtatious. “I’ll bring you some coffee.” She left and you were able to focus back on Benjamin and his guest.

“How is that my fault?” Benjamin asked. Hans poured himself coffee and faced the politician.

“It is your job to cover our tracks. Do I have to remind you what will happen if you fail?” Hans asked. Benjamin’s jaw clenched. A new cup was set on your table. You smiled but didn’t take your eyes off the screen.

“Leave her out of this.” You wondered if he was referring to his wife. “I’ll figure it out. The Avengers won’t find them.” You felt your stomach flip. The Avengers were here. It was impossible for you to not hear that name without thinking about your sisters. You shook your head and focused on the conversation. You didn’t have time to think about your sisters.

You were hunched over your desk with your tablet and papers. You were trying to find a paper trail to Benjamin and Hans. He was good. To the untrained eye, all his paperwork was in order but you were better. Benjamin was hiding requests from Hans and his organization deep within legislation he was signing off on. He was doing this all in the name of not protecting his wife but his daughter from a previous relationship. You understood the feeling of looking into the eyes of the devil and signing your life away. Your stomach growled. It was dinner time and the last meal you ate was at the cafe. Benjamin was home, eating his dinner. You put your phone and wallet in the pocket of your jeans and one headphone in your ear so you could still listen in. You weren’t going far, just down to the corner store to get a quick dinner. As you walked on the sidewalk and the brisk night air caused goosebumps to form on your arm, your mind traveled to the Avengers. Were they interested in Hans’ trafficking ring? If so, who were they going to send in to deal with it? The shop owner greeted you when the bell on the door announced your entrance. You said hello back and wandered through the isles. You were lost in your world, eyeing the different instant noodles and listening to the Taylors talk about the weather, you barely register the bell ringing and two sets of footsteps entering the small shop. On instinct, you put your hood up to cover your face. “No ice cream,” the voice made all the air leave your lungs. It’s been years since you’ve heard her voice. Natasha.

“Maria would let me get ice cream,” it’s been even longer since you’ve heard her voice. Yelena. Panic filled your body, an emotion you’ve not felt in a long time. You glanced to the right and saw them walk past the aisle you were in. They made no indication they saw you. You needed to get out of here. You grabbed a random instant noodle and headed for the counter. “Excuse me?” Yelena’s voice directed at you made you freeze. “You dropped this.” You turned around and stared at the blonde. She was holding your wallet.

“Merci,” you said and took your wallet. You swore you saw a flash of recognition in her eyes but it was gone quickly. “Passe une bonne journee (have a great day).” You went to pay for your noodles, grabbing a bottle of water and a chocolate bar. You thanked the older woman and left the store, quickly walking back to the safe house. You were in a lot of trouble.

So the mission changed for you. You gave your reports to Dreykov but you left out small details, mainly that the Avengers were now involved. You fed on everything Benjamin said to find out his plan. He knew that the Avengers were in the city but he didn’t know who, that was good. You choose a different spot to listen to as he talked with Hans. “I have a plan,” Benjamin said. “But I need some of your men.”

“I’m listening.” He didn’t reveal his plan right away as if he was thinking it through.

“They are interested in our warehouse near the docks. I think we should move the merchandise and set a trap for them,” your stomach filled at the word ‘merchandise’ knowing very well he meant girls. The German stared at the politician.

“When do you want this little trap to take place?” He asked.

“Tonight,” he said. “If all goes to plan the world will have two fewer Avengers.”

You changed into your tactical suit and loaded up for the mission. You made sure to listen to the conversation about where they were moving the girls. You wrote a note and put all the information you found on Hans’ organization on a flash drive to leave for your sisters. You put it in your pocket and headed for the factory. You had to time this perfectly. Too soon then they could be alerted and the girls were going to be put in danger. On the other hand, if you were too late Natasha and Yelena were going to talk into a trap. You sighed, placing a mask over your face, and waited.

It was 10:15 when you decided to strike. You snuck near the factory and looked through the window. You counted 10 men, you thought there would have been more. This was the hardest part for you. In your mind, you knew these men were bad but it was still hard to justify it. You were still taking a life. You let out a steady breath and snuck into the factory. The goal was to eliminate them quickly and quietly. The first man you came upon you eliminated quickly. He barely struggled and you gently set his body to the ground. You made it through two more guards when a body was found and all hell broke loose. You switched to your guns. They knew you were here so you might as well go loud.

It was quick work. They barely put up a fight. You grabbed a chair and set it in the middle of the main room. You placed the note and flash drive on it and left. Now you just needed your sisters to show up.

“Calm down,” Natasha said, as she drove up to the factory. Yelena was buzzing with permission jitters as she readied her pistols and Widow Bites.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Just nerves.” Natasha chuckled, shaking her head.

“Don’t be. You are going to do great.” Yelena smiled at her sister as she stopped the car. Yelena took a steady breath and followed Natasha out of the car. She mirrored her sister and took her gun out. They were expecting a small fight but nothing two Black Widows couldn’t handle. Yelena positioned herself on the wall next to the door. Natasha nodded her head, silently asking her if she was ready, and Yelena nodded back. The redhead opened the door. They pointed their guns into the room but Yelena lowered her gun at the sight.

“Looks like we missed the fight,” she said. Natasha didn’t lower her gun as they walked further in. Yelena stepped over the bodies.

“We should check out the rest of the building,” Yelena heard her sister and silently agreed but she was distracted by a chair. She moved towards it. “Yelena!”

“Yeah, I hear you. Come check this out.” She picked up a note and a flash drive. ‘The girls aren’t here. They were moved. Everything you’ll need is on this flash drive.’ She handed the note to Natasha. “Do we trust it?” The older Black Widow read it over.

“I’m not sure,” she pocketed it. “But let’s clear the building and we’ll check it.” Yelena nodded. She had a weird feeling as if they were being watched.

2013 Red Room

“Can you tell us what happened?” Dreykov asked. You stood at attention as he placed pictures of the bloodshed that took place at the factory. “Who killed these men?” You could lie and tell him you didn’t know or blame it on the Avengers. He was waiting for an answer. Something clicked in your brain. “They worked for me. So I am going to ask you again. Who killed my men?”

“Why did you send me on this mission?” You asked. He didn't say anything. The mission was below your skill level. “Did you know they would be there?” His jaw clenched.

“You are here to answer questions, not ask them.” He motioned to someone behind you and you were hit in the back of your knees. You fell, biting down the groan in pain. You looked up at him.

“I killed them,” you said. “And for Red Room men they were worthless.”

“Take her away,” he ordered without hesitation. Hands grabbed you by the arm and pulled you to your feet. You were in trouble but couldn’t help but smile.

2017 Upstate New York; Avengers Compound

You were sitting on the couch as the nature documentary played on the screen. Yelena sat down next to you with a bowl of popcorn. You took a handful. “I didn’t say you could have any.” You rolled your eyes.

“You’ll be okay.” You joked and you were about to take more but Yelena grabbed your hand, tracing a few scars she could see. She focused on one scar on your wrist.

“Where did you get this one?” She asked. You looked at the scar she was asking about. You didn’t remember how you got every scar, you had too many. But you did remember this one.

“Punishment,” you said with a smile. “I killed some lower-level Red Room guards on a mission.” You looked at your sister. “In Edinburgh 2013.” She must have given herself whiplash on how fast she looked at you.

“Natasha and I were in Edinburgh in 2013.”

“I know,” you said softly. “Taylor and Meyer knew you there. That factory was a trap. They were going to kill you.” Yelena stared at you, her mouth slightly open.

“That was you,” she whispered. “And-and at that little market. I thought I recognized you.” You nodded. “Why didn’t you say anything?” You became interested in the ring that they gave you for your birthday. You spun it around your finger. You weren’t sure how to tell her the truth. “Tell me.”

“I couldn't, Yelena,” you looked at the blonde. “We were both in the middle of our own mission. I didn’t think it was the best time for a family reunion especially when you and Natasha didn’t come back and look for me.” She frowned and looked back at the TV. There was a thick tension between the two of you. “I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure why you were apologizing.

“I asked about you,” she said finally. “It was hard to remember you but I dreamt about you all the time. Natasha said you were better off without us.” You nodded. That sounded a lot like your sister. She looked at you. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you or Natasha, malen'koye solnyshko (little sun),” you put her arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to you. “Natasha did what she thought was best for you and her. I’m not upset. I’m happy.” She pulled away from the small embrace and looked at you.

“I will never understand you,” she said. The statement made your eyes widen. “I don’t understand how you can be so forgiving after everything you’ve gone through.” You shrugged and focused back on the TV. The soothing voice of David Attenborough was talking about the migrating cycle of a mother blue whale and her baby.

“I can’t change the pass. So why focus on it and have it ruin my future.” Yelena laughed, shaking her head, and settled back next to you.

“Was that the only mission where you helped us?” You smiled.

“I think so. Now quiet, I am listening to David Attenborough give me facts about whales.” Yelena shook her head with a smile. You kept glancing at Yelena throughout the documentary and you were grateful that Dreykov sent you on that mission.

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#black widow sisters #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x natasha romanoff x reader #yelena belova x natasha romanoff #black widow one shot #black widow imagine #black widow fanfiction #black widow #yelena belova #natasha romanoff

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literaryfandomangel · 10 months ago

Text

The Promise - Chapter Eight

"Get on," David commanded as I watched the other three men swing their legs over their bikes. I hesitated, wringing my hands. I was nervous as I hadn't ever ridden on a motorcycle before.

"My bike," I whispered, also not wanting to leave my method of transportation on the Boardwalk all night long. Lord knows someone would steal it before the morning sun rose from the horizon.

"One of us will take it to your house, darling," Paul winked, assuring me I would have my bike. I flushed at the attention but still hesitated to get onto the seat. I chewed at my lip, a little nervous.

"I won't ride too fast, kitten," David promised, looking at me with those pale blue eyes. He knew why I didn't want to get onto his motorcycle. As if this man could read my thoughts.

His assurance that he would be a safe and careful driver was enough to break the walls. I sucked in a deep breath, wondering if Mom would approve. But then I determined that Mom probably would. She'd tell me to leave my safe bubble and live a little. I walked over to the bike, swinging my leg over the seat. I pulled my messenger bag around my body to sit on my lap.

"You will need to put your arms around my waist, darling," David commanded, not starting the bike yet. "We don't need you falling off," I blushed a brilliant crimson color at that information.

Uncertain, I put my arms around his waist. It was a loose hold - I didn't feel comfortable touching them so familiarly, no matter the pull to know these four. David reached down and pulled me flush to his back. Heat bloomed in my cheeks and neck as I felt the same bubbling, tingly feeling while in contact with his body. The same as I had felt with Dwayne and Marko. I almost loosened my hold, but David kickstarted his bike. As he started to drive the bike, I tightened my grip on his waist.

"Which way?" David asked as we sat at the light on the main street. I realized with a start he had no idea how to take me home. I felt like an idiot before telling him the directions.

"Left here, then right on 3rd, then left on Fir," I told him. "There's a dirt road on Fir, which leads to my Grandpa's."

"That's the most I've heard you say yet," Paul winked at me, showing that he was teasing. I shook my head, a slight smile on my face. Paul liked to tease, which showed that he never did it with malicious intent, at least towards me. I rolled my eyes at him before David began to drive. He followed my directions to the farm.

Due to the colder wind and my tiredness, I lowered my face between his shoulder blades. I yawned. Too many sleepless nights were catching up on me as my eyelids began drooping.

"Don't sleep yet, kitten," David shouted over the wind and the sound of the other's engines. I let out a whine of protest but remained on the precipice of sleep. Finally, we pulled into the driveway, though I wasn't sure if I wanted the night to end yet.

"C'mon baby," Dwayne cajoled, helping me off the back of David's bike. I stumbled, yawning. I was bone tired, and my legs felt like jello, unstable and shaking. "I got you."

Dwayne lifted me into his arms, bridal style, to carry me to the house. I heard the screen door creak open as Dwayne crunched dirt and wood chips beneath his leather boots. I could only yawn and curl my head into his leather jacket. He smelled nice, I thought, dozing off in his arms.

"She's just tired," I heard Dwayne tell my Mom by the rumble in his chest. She gasped when she saw him holding me, thinking the worst.

"Oh, come in," my Mom exclaimed, holding open the door. "All of you can come in. Thank you so much for bringing her home."

"No problem," I heard Paul's teasing voice tell my Mom. In my mind, I could picture him winking and smiling at my mother.

"Come this way," my mother guided Dwayne through the house and up the stairs to my room. I heard the bedcovers rustle as they were pulled down, and then my back hit the soft mattress.

"Baby," I heard Dwayne rumble, trying to uncurl my fingers from his jacket. "Come on, let go." I just mumbled something, shaking my head.

"Let her have it," I heard Marko hiss before I fell asleep.

The following day, I groaned as I woke up to the sunlight streaming through my thin curtains. My entire room was illuminated with the glow of the California sun. I whined, trying to hide my head underneath the covers to escape the daytime. But I felt a stiff, cool material instead of my soft coverlet.

I bolted upright, not sure what was with me in my bed. All vestiges of sleep were gone as my heart pounded. Once I blinked the sleep from my eyes, I realized that the strange item in my bed was Dwayne's jacket. I pulled the coat closer to my body, cheeks reddening in embarrassment as I realized I hadn't let go.

I let my fingers stroke over the worn material in reverence as I remembered Dwayne's arms carrying me into the house and bringing me to my bedroom. I giggled a little as I held his jacket, burying my face into the material. I melted as I smelled the scent that clung to him last night. Tobacco, salt, copper, iron, cinnamon, and some weird underlying sweetness that I couldn't quite figure out. I waited a moment, then buried my head in the jacket, trying to figure out what that sweet smell was, but alas, the scent eluded my identification.

"Get up!" Sam pounded on my door like the overprotective dweeb he was. I sighed, getting out of bed. That's when I realized someone had removed my jeans and shoes last night before I was put into bed. I blushed, wondering if it was my Mom or if it had been one of the men. I was also mortified because it meant that someone had seen my body - they saw the fat rolling off of my bones.

I rushed to the bathroom, locking the door to prevent Sam's access from his bedroom. I turned on the shower and washed off. I took care of my hair, actually adding in conditioner. The salty air and sun was beginning to take its toll. When I finished showering, I unlocked the door to Sam's side and returned to my room.

I wrapped the towel carefully around my body as I perused my closet. I didn't have a lot of choices, but I decided to make an effort. I would return to the Boardwalk tonight to give Dwayne his jacket. Therefore, I wanted to put in a little effort. I finally decided on a pair of jeans that fit me tighter than the others - they were a size two, while the others were fours. Then, I pulled on a plain tank top and decided that an oversized mesh sweater would work.

I made the bed, then looked down at the jacket. My fingers traced the golden leopard embroidered on Dwayne's jacket, but I couldn't justify wearing it around the house. No matter how much I actually wanted to wear it and spend my day smelling Dwayne. Instead, I left it on the bed, making my way downstairs.

Chapter Nine

#david tlb #emerson sister #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys marko #the lost boys paul #the lost boys x emerson sister #david x reader #dwayne x reader #fanfiction

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starlitangels · 2 years ago

Note

Hii For your micro fic thingy

I’m not really 100% sure if your still doing this but would you possibly consider doing a fluff of Milo/Sweetheart cuddling

your writing style of them is amazing (as for the rest of the characters)

Thank you.

Sure! This will probably be a little short but that won't mean it's not cute... right?

—

"Milo, baby, I'm aware that today is your day off and you've been working yourself really hard recently but I sure as hell hope you are not in the exact same spot on our bed that I left you when I got up for work this morning!" I called into the house as I toed out of my work shoes and set my messenger bag on the footstool next to the garage door where we usually just dropped stuff in order to come back for it later.

"What kinda mate do you think I am, sweetheart?" Milo's voice demanded from very close by.

I ducked out of the mud room—that was also the laundry room—and into the kitchen.

Milo was standing on the counter island, Aggro winding around his feet, tightening the screws of the hanging light fixture. It was one of the things we didn't like so much about the kitchen—we'd been hoping for can/saucers lights set into the ceiling itself—but we weren't going to make any renovations that dramatic any time soon.

"Want me to remove your tripping hazard?" I asked.

"Huh?"

I scooped up Aggro. He mraow-ed indignantly and gave me a huffy look, but I started bouncing him like a baby and he calmed right down.

"Thanks, sweetheart. At least now I can get down," Milo said, finishing up with the screwdriver and shoving some hair out of his face. He hopped off the counter nimbly, landing in front of me and leaning close for a kiss. I accepted it happily. "Welcome home."

"Thanks, babe."

I loosened my grip on Aggro. He immediately sorted himself out and leapt out of my arms, hitting the tile floor and meowing indignantly before slinking off.

Milo helped me brush the cat hair off my clothes—some of it, anyway. It was impossible to get rid of all of it.

He took my hands. "C'mon. Come sit down."

"But dinner—"

"Sweetheart. It's Friday night. I ordered in. It'll be delivered any minute now."

"What'd you order?"

"That one place across town you like. The one with the orange door I forgot the name of. It was saved as one of your favorites on the app." He pulled me toward the couch and sat down, patting his lap. I sat on it and let him wrap his arms around me. I put my arm around his shoulders. "There you go. Get you off your feet, yeah?"

I smiled. "Thanks, Milo."

He started running one hand up and down my back. "How was work today?"

I took a deep breath, launching into an aimless ramble about the day. Milo rested his cheek on my chest and listened, still rubbing my back. His eyes were closed but he was listening. He asked questions, and then follow-up questions. The kind that made it easy to tell he really was paying attention.

"How about you, baby?" I asked when I finally wound down.

He shrugged. "Just fixed a few things we wanted to adjust when we bought the place. Thought about askin' Ash over to help me with the bookcase but I figured you and I can handle it tomorrow."

"That we can—when I'm not so exhausted."

Milo laughed. "Fair enough, sweetheart."

I rested my cheek against the top of his head. "I love you, Milo."

"Love you too, sweetheart. Forever and ever."

"You're a sap."

"Just for you." He kissed my chest where he was lying against it. "Only for you and always for you."

I smiled.

After sliding off his lap, I pulled him close so we could just cuddle together on the couch side-by-side. He held me tight against him and inhaled deeply. "You smell like home," he whispered.

"You are my home," I added.

"Cuddle till the food's delivered?"

"I guess that's the plan. You're picking it up from the driver though. I'm gonna go change while you do that. Comfy clothes after work."

"Sounds good," Milo remarked. "Anythin' for you after a long day."

"Thanks baby."

#Star does Micro Fics #answered #Redacted ASMR #Redacted Audio #Redacted Milo #Redacted Sweetheart #Milo Greer

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alia-the-wintergirl · 4 days ago

Text

anaed wish fufillment writing

basically just a wish fulfillment thing meant to trigger myself

basically just a skinny rich girl whos good at everything being a skinny rich girl whos good at everything

don't like don't read pls

I just ate, and my stomach is still as flat as it was when I woke up and checked it in the mirror. My breakfast, a cup of greek yogurt topped with blueberries, wouldn’t be enough to push my stomach out, to make me look as fat as the girls around me. But it’s a relief anyway.

I don’t have time for my usual Pilates routine, since I have school today but got up late. I do a shortened version instead, and beat my personal low plank record by almost a minute. To celebrate, I put a dollar in my ‘victory jar’.

Every time something worth celebrating happens in my life, like a perfect grade on a test or losing five pounds, I put a dollar in the jar. Having had it for over six months now, it’s almost full to bursting, and I have to cram the newest dollar in.

I shower and watch the water run down the flat planes of my body, over my collarbones, down my stomach, dripping in the gap between my thighs. I don’t mean this in a perverted way, I’m just proud of the work I’ve done to have my body look like this.

I towel off and dry my hair, pulling it into a claw clip so I can do my full skincare routine without having to worry about it falling in my face. My boyfriend likes to tease me about the sheer amount of bottles lining my medicine cabinet, all containing some sort of serum or lotion to keep my face clean and clear, but I’ve caught him using them on his own face, so anything he says about them doesn’t bother me.

Once I’ve finished with my skin, I take my hair out of the claw clip and begin to style it. Most days I skip over makeup, because I find it tedious and I don’t really need it. Without it, I look the same as the girls who do wear it, so I don’t see the point in spending time putting it on. Today is no different; I don’t even bother with mascara.

My hair is wrangled into a french braid that cascades to just below my shoulder blades. I haven’t cut my hair in the last five years and it shows, which makes me happy. Sometimes I'm tempted to get a big chop and go for the bob look, but my boyfriend always stops me before I get to the hair salon. He likes it long, mostly because he knows I do.

I step out of my bathroom, cross through my room, and enter my walk-in closet. My parents chose this apartment for me, and decided I would need all the luxuries they could possibly think of. I would’ve been fine with a bed, sink, and toilet, but since they are the ones paying for the apartment, they got to pick.

My outfit for today is fairly basic; just Diesel baggy jeans, a Maison Margiela long-sleeved bodysuit, and my favorite pair of Sambas. They’re extremely beat up, mostly because I wear them everywhere.

Two years ago, I’d be worried about how not-fabulous the outfit was. But because I’m much skinnier and prettier now than I was back then, I’m not concerned. My body makes the look work. And besides, underneath it all is an underwear set that never fails to make me feel pretty.

I grab my brown messenger bag and take the train to Yale. My first class is Biochemistry, something I was told was difficult but that I’m actually really enjoying. I like my professor, which is really critical to my enjoyment of any class, and the coursework is interesting. It really makes me glad I chose pre-med, because I’ve always wanted to be a doctor, but I know I’d probably die if I didn’t like the classes.

In class, a girl next to me offers me some of her candy. I politely refuse, not because it doesn’t look tasty, but because I don’t think it’d be very good for long. Cheap food leaves a bad aftertaste in my mouth, so I avoid grocery store candies and fast food. It’s just not for me.

I only have three classes today, each right after the other, and I speed through them, asking and answering questions in each. I believe that active participation in class really helps my learning, so I do my best every day to engage.

After class, I go back home and decide to go on a run. I’m a Lululemon fanatic; nearly all my workout gear is from them. I pull on a pair of leggings, a cute sports bra, socks, and a pair of New Balance running shoes, and once I’ve got my music set up, I’m ready to go.

I run for a half hour or so, enjoying the slight burn in my muscles and the rasp of my breathing. It’s freeing, in a way.

Once I’ve circled back to my apartment, I shower and change into comfy clothes for a productive afternoon of studying. I re-do my notes, clarify any points I’m unclear on, and watch an episode of Gilmore Girls in between. It’s relaxing and helps me to feel confident about the test I have next week.

My boyfriend texts me, asking if I want to go to the Lotus Eatery for dinner tonight, because he thinks he can get reservations. The Lotus Eatery is a cute little hole-in-the-wall restaurant run by an older Tunisian couple, and it’s suddenly become very popular, probably as a result of its newfound Michelin star.

But honestly, I’d rather not. I love my boyfriend, he’s wonderful and the best guy a girl could ask for, but restaurants are the worst, because I never know how many calories are in the dishes and it’s odd to ask. But today’s calorie total is in the negatives, so I guess I can afford to have a nice meal with the man I love. I tell him I’d love to.

I get dressed yet again, this time opting for a vintage Gucci dress my grandma found for me. She’s a nut about couture, and when picking out Christmas gifts, she does not mess around.

It’s lovely, a white lacy thing that I think looks nice on my skin. I style my hair into a gentle updo, and in a concession to beauty standards, swipe on some lip gloss. I hate doing it; it feels like a betrayal of myself, but my boyfriend might like it, just like how he might like my eating with him, so I’ll do it.

He has a car, so he picks me up from my apartment. The leather interior is nice to the touch, and he has my favorite playlist of his playing softly over the stereo. As I step into the car, he pulls me in for a light kiss. It takes a lot for me to not totally forget about the reservations and jump his bones right there, but I hold myself back and we’re on our way.

At the restaurant we’re seated fairly quickly, no delays. At places that are this popular, even reservations usually aren’t a guarantee of being seated fast, but the Lotus Eatery does pride itself on its customer service, so I guess it makes sense.

The food is wonderful, but I take care in eating politely. I’m hungry, probably because the greek yogurt this morning was the last thing I ate, but I still make sure I eat slowly and leave a small amount on the plate. Mrs. Yaakoubi, the wife part of the husband-wife duo that runs this restaurant, sees food left over as a sign that someone doesn’t like her cooking, so I make sure it's barely noticeable, leaving little bits and pieces everywhere instead of one big and prominent section of food uneaten.

We have dessert there too, zouza made by Mr. Yaakoubi, who was a confectioner back in Tunisia. It’s amazing, melt-in-your-mouth caramel goodness. When I kiss my boyfriend later that night, I can taste it in his mouth.

He pays the bill, and we go back to his place, where I spend the night.

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