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violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year ago

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A fair payment [W. W.]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]

some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)

“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part.

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.

As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #wonka x fem reader

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shotmrmiller · 3 months ago

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since Simon isn't one to celebrate much, whether it's a holiday or his own birth, it comes as a complete surprise that one day, he's lugging in a stuffed teddy bear the same height as him through the front door.

did you forget your anniversary? no, that was last month. you dog-ear the page of your book, paper folding neatly beneath your fingers before setting it down on the foot table. oh no. what did he do?

"nothin'," he scoffs, "can't bring my girl nothin' nice every once in a while?"

no, actually, he can't. this looks like a 6-foot apology. you ought to keep an eye on the news tonight, in case that young man from the cafe down the street coincidentally ends up missing after asking for your number in the presence of simon last weekend.

"well it isn't. i can take it back if ya like." the rich, chocolate brown fur feels incredibly soft as you thread your fingers through it.

"no, no. thank you for the oversized bear, i'll be sure to throw out the mattress so we can make it fit in the bedroom." you're no big fan of plushies, but you're no ingrate and if he thought of you when he saw this beast well, then you'll just have to accept it.

it sits in a corner of the room after that, beady eyes pointed your way even when you're on all fours with your sweat-slick face pushed into the bedsheets as Simon pistons into you from behind, or when he stuffs his fingers into your sleepy cunt before he goes to work in the morning.

(maybe it's his exhibitionist kink raging full force. who knows.)

until he decides to bring it into play when your mind is fuzzy from the glasses of wine you had for dinner that night. Simon, with your express permission, ties you up with a sturdy, coarse rope, the kind that feels like you've got tiny little claws digging into your calves and wrists when you try to move. he ties face down, legs and arms to the bear's, cheek flat on its chest, the bow on its neck sitting prettily at the crown of your head.

a doll, he says, roughened palms smoothing over the expanse of your bare skin, raising gooseflesh when he glides a hand along your folds, tip of his finger catching on your clit. lookin' pretty as a peach.

he takes you as if he's trying to fuck you right through the bear, the bed, the fucking floor and you're left to muffle your own cries on the stuffed animal itself, occasionally coming up for air when Simon claims a fistful of hair, breath warming the side of your throat.

you come the first time when he pushes a thumb against the furl of your arse, tight ring of muscle burning with the threat of him sinking into it.

(you stopped counting after the third climax, quietly cursing yourself for bagging a military man who's been so deprived of pussy he keeps fucking you even after his own orgasm.)

when you move it to clean up one day and leave it facing whichever way, by night it's facing the bed again.

definitely an exhibitionist kink.

you'll just ask him nicely to face him another way, the eerie red glow you sometimes catch in its eyes are starting to creep you out.

#not me stalling because im this close to deleting the gunplay fic #anyway tf one for all yknow?#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #aimon ghost riley x f! reader #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut

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twitchmattentusiast · 4 months ago

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｡°✩ BIRTHDAY BOY . . . . .ᐟ

- MATTHEW STURNIOLO.

parings. matthew sturniolo x female gf reader

❝ you're going to cum for me, aren't you? let me hear those sweet sounds. ❞

# warnings: birthday sex, morning sex, soft dom reader, sub(ish) bf matt, slight mommy kink at end.

matt has always been a deep sleeper.

whenever his brothers make fun of him for it, your boyfriend shakes his head, claiming that it’s not true and that he’s totally a light sleeper.

but as you sit on the edge of his bed, your hand running softly through his hair as you glance back down at matt, who’s still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath, even though you’ve trailed kisses around his face and leaned down to whisper in his ear twice, “happy birthday, baby,” it just proves that your boyfriend is a deep sleeper.

but that works in your favor this morning.

it’s matt’s 21st birthday, and you’ve been dating for the last three years, so you know the drill by now that chris and nick always immediately rush to matt’s room to wish him and each other a happy birthday. but this morning the other two seem to be in a deep sleep too.

it’s a peaceful morning, which is very rare in the sturniolo household; it's so rare. usually you're woken up by your boyfriend's brothers in the morning. you and your boyfriend not having a moment together until later because you're both literally forced out of bed, nick and chris pulling disgusted faces when you guys try to sneak a kiss while they push you out of matt’s bed.

so since chris and nick are asleep, you decide to relish in the fact of deciding to wake your boyfriend up in his favorite way.

“i got something special for you today, baby,” you whisper as you run your fingers along the lace trim of the new blue lace bra and matching panties you bought the other day. "i think you’re going to love it,” you smirk.

you lean down slowly, starting to leave soft kisses on his collarbone. you watch as matt stirs slightly at the gentle kisses on his neck, a soft moan escaping his lips, and you’re sure he’s about to wake up, but he falls back asleep again, and you giggle.

you take your time trailing kisses down his body, making sure to leave little trails of kisses down his skin.

as you continue to trail kisses down matt’s body, your hands start to explore as well. one hand gently traces the lines of his muscles while the other slips just over his boxers.

you look up at matt with half-lidded eyes, a coy smile playing on your lips as you slowly start to rub his length through the fabric of his boxers. "mmm... someone's excited to see me," you purr, your voice low and husky with desire. “let’s get these off, shall we?" with deft fingers, you hook your nails into the waistband of matt’s boxers and start to tug them down, revealing more of his hardening cock.

you can’t help but chuckle at the sight of matt still sleeping soundly despite everything you’re doing. you lean down and give his tip a teasing lick, tasting him for the first time that morning. the taste sends a jolt straight to your core, causing you to grow wet.

you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, giving it a final firm stroke before you lean down to take him fully into your mouth. at first, you bob your head down slowly, savoring the taste of him. you moan, “mmm, you taste so good, baby.” you murmur against his skin, your free hand moving to cup his balls and gently massage them. “could do this all day.” you whisper as matt begins to move in his sleep, letting out whimpers, which encourages you to pick up the pace. taking him deeper with each stroke.

matt’s hips buck involuntarily as you takes him deeper, his whimpers turning to soft moans of pleasure as his eyes fly open and his hands come up to thread through your hair, tangling in the dark strands as he loses himself in the sensation of her warm, wet mouth engulfing him. “oh fuck baby" he gasps, not expecting to wake up to the sight of you in front of him with him in your mouth as you suck his cock hungrily.

matt quickly moved his hand towards your head, his fingers moving to your hair, where he fists a bunch of it in his hand, holding it tightly, his head thrown back as whimpers leave his mouth.

feeling matt’s fingers tighten in your hair, you pull back slightly, allowing only the head of his cock to remain in your mouth. you gaze up at him, locking eyes once more as you swirl your tongue around the sensitive tip before taking him back into your mouth completely. “mmmm" you hums around him, sending vibrations through every inch of his cock.

matt grips your hair even tighter. “fuck baby, yeah, suck my cock just like that,” he moans.

you him louder, the vibrations intensifying as you bob your head up and down on his cock. your hand joins in, stroking the base of his shaft while you suck on the head. you glance up at him through half-lidded eyes, smirking as you see how much pleasure you're giving him. "mmm... you're going to cum for me, aren't you? let me hear those sweet sounds," you tease.

the sight of you looking up at him with those half-lidded eyes, coupled with the feeling of your hand stroking his length and your mouth enveloping his cock, sends matt spiraling towards orgasm. he lets out a guttural groan, “yeah... fuck! i’m going to cum!” he warns you, his grip tightening even more in your hair as he prepares to release inside your eager mouth.

hearing matt’s warning, you quicken your pace, bobbing your head faster and taking him even deeper into your mouth. you hum loudly now, determined to draw out every last drop of cum from his throbbing member. "that’s right, baby... give it to me," you murmur around him, encouraging him further.

matt’s control snaps as you increase your pace, your mouth and hand working together to push him over the edge. with a loud roar, he spills his load into your waiting mouth, his hot seed filling her as you swallow eagerly. “fuck yes!” he exclaims, panting heavily as he rides out the waves of pleasure coursing through him.

still recovering from the intense orgasm, matt stares down at you with wide eyes filled with adoration and lust. “fuck baby,” he says breathlessly, reaching down to pull you up onto his lap so you can enjoy each other more intimately.

you grin and lean to peck matt on the lips. "happy birthday, baby."

matt wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he deepens your kiss. his tongue delves into your mouth, exploring every inch as he tastes himself on your lips. “waking up to birthday head?... best. birthday. ever.” he murmurs against your mouth, his hands roaming over your curves possessively. "look so hot in this,” he says, his eyes finally roaming over the new matching set you got.

you smirk. “you think so?”

matt nods, tracing a finger down the curve of your hip. “i love it,” he admits, his gaze lingering on the way the material clings to your curves. he leans in to press another kiss to your neck, nipping lightly at your skin. “but i think you'd look even hotter underneath me with my cock buried deep in you.”

you smirk as you notice that at some point matt had managed to switch positions, you underneath him as he hovered on top of you, trailing kisses down your neck. “mhm matt.” you moan, and he smirks because he’s always the one in control, so why wouldn’t he be on a day like this?

but you surprise him when seconds later you flip him over, appearing on top of him as you reveal a pair of handcuffs that were behind your back. matt’s breathing heavily now, watching you with lust-filled eyes as, with no explanation, you handcuff his hands together and then to the bed, moving down to take off his boxers, leaving him completely naked for you, completely at your mercy.

matt looks at you in confusion. confused because he doesn’t know when you got these handcuffs. confused because he doesn’t know what’s going on right now, even more confused because he doesn’t know when you decided you were taking control today (or ever), but he’s shocked at how much he likes it and how his cock is growing harder by the minute.

his eyebrows furrow. “baby wh-“

you place your finger on his lips. “sh baby.” you tell him, moving your finger slightly and trailing it at the bottom of his lip. smirking as you can feel his hard on pressing at the corner of your thigh.

“you’re going to be a good boy and let mommy take care of the birthday boy, hm?”

｡°✩

lowkk kinda hate this that’s why it’s so short. im a sucker for subby men especially sub matt so wanted to test this one out. i do have a part 2 where matts whimpering asking if he’s a good boy so let me know if yall want a part 2 !

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo

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just-aake · 8 months ago

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Dyeing to See You Again

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: The need for a change of style brings about a reunion between Natasha and her old friend.

Warnings: light fluff, light angst

Words: 6659

Ohio - 1995

Three years ago, in the heart of the Midwest, a typical family of four moved into the ordinary suburban home next to yours.

Naturally, as their neighbor, you became interested in learning about the new family, especially since you found out that one of their daughters was similar to you in age.

Initially closed off in the beginning, you slowly chipped away at the girl’s cold exterior until eventually the two of you became inseparable friends, forming a close bond with her over the three years they’ve lived here so far.

Currently, you find yourselves in the bathroom of her home amidst a chaotic mess of scattered bottles of hair products and dyes, the result of two young teens messing around without supervision.

You watch as Natasha removes the towel from her head, revealing the experiment that the two of you have been working on, and your eyes widen in shock at the sight.

“Uh oh, Nat, I think we might’ve mixed up the wrong bottles,” you exclaim in a slight panic as you rush around to pick up the different dyes, trying to find the one that was applied to her hair.

“I’m so sorry, Natasha,” you apologize as you try to figure out where you two went wrong.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Natasha reassures, her voice distracted in awe as she examines the strands of her newly colored hair in the mirror.

“It’s blue,” you state plainly in disbelief at her untroubled state.

“Yeah, but…it was my choice,” Natasha says with a widening happy grin.

You drop the bottles in your hand and tilt your head at her in confusion.

“I thought you said that your mom was okay with this.”

Natasha makes an unsure sound before shrugging, “I’m sure she will be..I think.”

You twist your lips skeptically at her words as you stand and return to her side. Your hand raises to her hair, but before you touch it, you pause and look at her with a questioning look, silently asking for permission.

Over the time you’ve known her, you’ve learned how much Natasha values her personal space. The first time you patted her back in a friendly gesture, she pushed you away so hard that you scraped your hands while catching yourself on the ground.

Natasha apologized profusely immediately afterward and supported you home where she helped to tend to your wounds.

That was the first time you saw the true warmth that Natasha was hiding underneath her cold exterior as she cared for you.

At that time, she explained to you how she was not used to such friendly gestures like that from her peers and had reacted instinctively.

Hearing this, you decide to always ask if she’s comfortable before you touch her.

With her nod of permission, your finger gently threads through her now light blue hair, brushing it in contemplation.

“Well, I guess it’s fine since it’s summer, but you’re going to have to change it back before school starts,” you remark.

Natasha shrugs, unconcerned, before flashing you one of her rare teasing grins.

“I’ll just have you dye it for me again. Maybe next time it might actually be the right color.”

You huff in disbelief at her, but before you can point out she also contributed to the mistake, the sound of the front door opening and the call from Natasha’s mom, Melina, causes both of your eyes to widen.

Within the next second, the two of you scramble to clean up the mess in the bathroom, laughing with each other the entire time.

You never did get a chance to change her hair color back to normal.

Natasha and her family vanished without a trace before the end of that summer.

There was no note. No warning.

She was just suddenly gone from your life.

And though many years pass, you’ve always held onto the hope that someday you can see her again.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2016 (21 Years Later)

The peaceful ambiance of the late evening is pierced by the gentle chime of the bell hanging above the entrance to the hair salon, announcing the arrival of an unexpected visitor.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” you call out, your eyes still fixed on the task of sweeping the floor.

A familiar voice responds, breaking through your concentration.

“What about for an old friend?”

Instantly, you freeze in your movements and look up at the visitor, disbelief flooding your senses as you recognize the voice and then the face of the woman.

"Nat?" you utter in disbelief.

Natasha stands before you, a soft smile gracing her features as she greets you.

“Hey, Y/n.”

Abandoning everything in your hands, you rush towards her, only to stop short of barreling into her when you remember how she felt about her personal space.

To your surprise, Natasha pulls you into her arms for a tight hug, breaking the barrier herself.

Momentarily stunned, you quickly recover and return her warm embrace, tucking your head against her shoulder and letting out a breath of disbelief that she’s actually here in front of you.

The two of you stay in that position, reveling in your reunion with each other, before Natasha breaks the silence with a soft murmur against your shoulder.

“So, about that haircut?”

You chuckle, nodding in response to her request.

As Natasha settles into a chair, you move to secure the salon, locking the door and closing the blinds, shielding the two of you from prying eyes.

Despite the late hour and remote location, you’re not taking any chances.

Even though it has been years since you last saw Natasha in person, that doesn’t mean you didn’t eventually discover who she really was, recognizing her immediately through the news during the attack in New York and now with her current predicament.

But that’s her business.

You’re not going to bring it up unless she wants to talk about it.

Here in this moment, she's not a spy or the Black Widow. She’s simply Natasha, your friend.

And right now, she wants to change her hair.

Taking your position behind her, you place your hands on the back of the chair and meet her eyes in the mirror.

“So, what are we thinking?”

Natasha ponders for a moment before a teasing grin lights up her face, and she turns her head to look at you.

"We could attempt the platinum blonde again, maybe without the blue this time?"

You roll your eyes and shake your head with a laugh of disbelief at the memory of your past failed attempt at dyeing her hair.

Before you begin, you give her the same questioning look as when you were younger, silently asking for permission to touch her.

A small smile forms on her face at the familiar request, and Natasha nods to you before facing forward once again to give you access to her hair.

With her consent, your fingers gently thread through her hair, delicately brushing out the tangled areas as you go.

As you continue your actions, Natasha’s eyes flutter closed, and a relaxed expression crosses her face as the tension in her shoulder eases with every movement.

A happy smile tugs at your lips when you see this, so you continue your soothing actions as you inspect the condition of her hair.

“What did you do?” you ask in concern when you realize the state of her hair. “The ends are all burnt up. Did you light your hair on fire or something?”

Natasha chuckles lightly, her eyes still closed as she responds.

“Not exactly. I jumped off an exploding secret evil base that was floating in the sky.”

A brief pause follows as you process her words before you release a huff of disbelief at her casual explanation.

“Well, obviously one of us has chosen the more exciting career.”

You finish your assessment of the extent of damage to her hair before shaking your head with a resigned sigh.

“I don’t think these are salvageable. We might need to cut most of it off.”

“That’s fine,” Natasha answers calmly, unconcerned by the news.

“Seriously?” you ask, making sure she sees the length of how short her hair will be.

She meets your eyes in the mirror and gives you a reassuring nod.

“It’s not like I haven’t had that style before,” Natasha reasons before letting out a tired sigh. “Besides, a different look for me is probably better at the moment anyway.”

Understanding what she’s referring to, you don’t press further, replying with a soft, “Okay.”

You proceed with the transformation, draping a cape around Natasha’s shoulders before delicately combing through her hair.

With each snip of the scissors, you work meticulously with care, shaping Natasha’s hair into a style that would best complement her features.

Lost in your task, you can’t help but be captivated by her beauty, understanding how she came to be described as the spy who captures the hearts of all those who encounter her.

As you finish up with the haircut, the peaceful atmosphere of the moment is shattered by an alert from the tv, interrupting the currently airing program.

The late-night news anchor appears on the screen, delivering the all-too-familiar message that has become a nightly ritual.

“The search efforts are still ongoing for the fugitives Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff, also known as Captain America and the Black Widow. The two are currently on the run for violation of the Sokovia Accords. Any information regarding their possible whereabouts should be reported to—”

With a frown, you swiftly reach for the remote and shut off the tv.

Turning back, your frown deepens when you find Natasha rising from the chair.

“What are you doing?” you question, puzzled by her sudden action.

Natasha shakes her head with a grave expression as she removes the cape from her shoulders.

“This was reckless. I shouldn’t be here,” she answers, her voice filled with regret. “I’m just putting you at risk.”

Realizing her intention to leave because of the possible dangers of her presence, you interject firmly when she strides past you toward the exit.

"I'm glad that you did."

Your unexpected words cause her to pause in her tracks, confusion flickering across her face as she turns to meet your gaze.

"I don't care about the risks, Nat," you say, your tone unwavering and softening with a small smile at her.

“I’m glad that I got a chance to see you again.”

Natasha’s eyes widen slightly at your words, but a hesitant look still remains on her face, so you offer another reassurance.

“If I didn’t want you here, I would’ve told you to go already.”

Her gaze focuses on you in contemplation, and you know she’s almost convinced, prompting you to continue, your hand turning the chair around to her in invitation.

“Besides, I’m not finished yet. I still have to dye your hair and show you that I can get the color right this time,” you tease lightly.

A small smile tugs at Natasha’s lips, and a hint of amusement appears in her eyes as they soften into a fond look at you.

With one final contemplative glance to the exit, Natasha comes to a decision and gives in, settling back into the seat again.

“Alright, show me what you got.”

With her permission granted, you proceed with the dyeing process, your fingers moving with practiced ease as you bleach and tone her hair, removing the remnants of her signature vibrant red locks, before applying the blonde dye.

Your brows furrowed in concentration as you carefully coat each strand of her hair to ensure an even color in the end.

Meanwhile, throughout the process, Natasha watches you intently through the mirror, a tiny admiring smile pulls at the corner of her lips when she sees how focused you are on your work.

Once all that’s left is to wait for the dye to set, you disappear into the back of the salon in search of some snacks and return triumphantly with a tub of ice cream.

Offering Natasha a spoon with a playful grin, you both indulge in the sweet treat, the casual banter flowing effortlessly between you as if the years apart had never existed.

“So do you still live in the same neighborhood?” Natasha asks between spoonfuls.

You shake your head, explaining, “My parents are still there, but I moved out here years ago after fixing up this building for myself. My place is actually next door, though sometimes it’s hard to tell these are two separate buildings. You have no idea how many packages I end up never receiving because the mailman can’t find my home.”

The two of you share a laugh and continue reminiscing about past adventures and mishaps and then about your current lives.

Throughout the entire time, your questions to her remain light-hearted, carefully avoiding any mention of her current situation or her mysterious past.

Despite the happy atmosphere, your consideration for her only makes the sense of guilt within Natasha grow with each passing moment, reminding her of what she put you through.

Eventually, the room falls into a comfortable quiet as you clean up the empty containers and move to throw them away.

When you return, Natasha decides to address her mistakes and the role she played in the fracture of your friendship.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

You look at her with a perplexed look, tilting your head in confusion.

“For what?” you ask.

“For not telling you who I was…for leaving without any warning,” she confesses, her eyes closing briefly with remorse. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You lean back against the counter, arms crossed, your gaze dropping to the floor as you contemplate her words. Your thoughts and feelings about her apology remain inscrutable on your face.

After a brief pause, you finally meet her gaze again with a serious expression.

“Was it real?” you ask.

At your question, Natasha furrows her brows in confusion, causing you to elaborate.

“Our friendship,” you clarify, gesturing between the two of you. “All the times we spent together…was it real?”

Natasha pauses as she thinks back to her time undercover. The mission was to pose as a normal family to infiltrate and gather intel from a research lab nearby.

That didn’t necessarily mean she needed to form such a close relationship with you at the time.

So was her friendship with you genuinely her choice?

As Natasha contemplates her answer, you take a step closer to her, causing her focus to return back to you.

“The way I remember it, I wanted to be your friend,” you admit before giving her a knowing look. “And I’m guessing you didn’t have to be mine, at least based on all your brooding and glares that you gave me in the beginning.”

Natasha grimaces sadly at the memory of how distant and cold she was initially before giving you a curious look.

“So why did you try to become friends with me?”

You shrug, a nostalgic expression appearing on your face. You recall the first time you spotted the lone girl curled up into herself underneath the shelter of the branches of the trees.

“When I first saw you, you just…looked like you needed somebody on your side for once,” you admit softly before tilting your head at her. “And I thought… maybe I could be that person for you.”

Natasha’s mouth parts slightly in surprise at your answer. Before she can respond, her stunned silence is abruptly broken by the sound of the timer.

With a gentle shake of your head, you return your focus to her hair, positioning yourself behind her.

��You don't have to apologize, Natasha,” you assure her, your voice steady and comforting, as you delicately begin to unwrap her hair.

“Odds are I would’ve still chosen to be your friend whether I knew if you were a spy or not. And as for leaving…”

You recline her chair, her head now hovering above the washing station, as you let out a soft sad sigh and begin washing her hair.

“People come and go throughout our lives all of the time. And most of the time, we can’t stop it from happening.”

Your voice wavers slightly, the memories of the devastation you felt when you found out Natasha had left come flooding back.

Even though she wants to, Natasha can’t see what kind of expression you have on your face, your hand covering her eyes to shield the water from her face.

Shaking off the sad memory, you dry her hair and reposition Natasha upright. Your fingers glide through her newly shortened locks, combing them as you continue with a lighter and more upbeat tone.

“But the one thing we can do is hope that the people who truly mean something to us are the ones we’ll get to see again.”

Satisfied with the results of Natasha’s new hairstyle, your hands settle on the back of the chair, turning it so she faces the mirror.

Bending down, your head hovers beside hers as you meet her eyes in the reflection.

“And look, I got to see you again, didn’t I?” you say with a happy grin.

Natasha is stunned, her heart warmed by your words. She gazes at her reflection, admiring her new look, but her eyes keep returning to you, your words still echoing in her mind.

Oblivious to her awed stares at you, you return your focus to brushing her hair and examining it proudly.

“Do you like it?” you ask eagerly with anticipation when you finally look up back at her.

“Yeah,” Natasha responds honestly, her gaze fixed on you. “I do.”

You give her a beaming smile at her answer, causing the corners of Natasha’s lip to quirk up fondly at the sight.

After you do your finishing touches and declare that she’s done, Natasha stands from the chair and reaches into her pockets for the remaining money she still has on hand.

“How much do I owe?”

You wave your hand in refusal, shaking your head.

“Nothing, consider it a gift from a friend,” you insist, giving her a resolute expression, daring her to argue.

Huffing lightly under her breath at your determination, Natasha gives you a small smile as she relents with a soft, “Thank you.”

Her eyes glance at the darkness outside, seeing how late into the night it is, and she turns back to you, tilting her head in question.

“Can I at least walk you home then?” she offers.

You raise an amused brow at her, probably because your home most likely only takes less than a couple minutes walk from here.

Still, you agree to her request with a nod, unable to resist the opportunity to prolong this time together with her.

“Alright. Let me just close up.”

After you lock the shop, the two of you walk side by side along the sidewalk to your home before you suddenly stop and point to the lone motorcycle parked across the street.

“Is that yours?” you ask curiously.

“Yes, it is,” Natasha says proudly.

“It’s nice,” you compliment before you shoot her a teasing smirk. “It’s definitely cooler than that bicycle you used to ride.”

Natasha lets out a playful offended scoff in disbelief.

“Hey, you’ve always loved it when I let you ride on the back of that bike with me,” she points out.

You chuckle at her exclamation in defense of her precious bicycle, but you don’t deny her accusation.

Your heart warms at the memory of wrapping your arms around her waist, clinging to her from behind as Natasha rides her bicycle down the neighborhood streets.

Your eyes linger on her hand at her side, wanting to feel that warmth again, but you resist the urge to reach for her. Instead, you tuck your hands behind your back as the two of you continue your path.

Once you reach your front door, you turn back around to face Natasha, a somber expression settling over you.

“Will you ever come to visit again?” you ask with a tinge of hope in your tone.

Natasha hesitates, wanting to tell you ‘yes,’ but she knows better than to make promises that she can’t keep, especially with her current situation.

“I don’t know,” Natasha answers honestly in a soft whisper.

You dip your head slightly, a sad smile on your lip.

Natasha swallows her own desires in her heart and gestures awkwardly behind her.

“I should…probably get going before someone sees me,” she says with a small grimace.

You nod at her in understanding, moving to unlock and open your door.

“Stay safe, Natasha,” you tell her, your voice thick with longing. “If anything, I do hope I’ll get the chance to see you again one day.”

When you enter your home and close the door with a dull thud of finality, Natasha's hand rests gently against the solid barrier separating you.

Leaning her forehead against the cool wood, she whispers sadly, "Me too,” before finally turning away.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2016 (2 Months Later)

It was late one evening again when the bell above the door chimed just as you were cleaning up for the day. Looking up, a surprised and excited expression forms on your face when you see who it is.

“Can you take one more?” Natasha asks, a small smile also appearing on her face when she sees you.

With a light chuckle, you approach her, your hands clasped behind your back.

“For you, always,” you reply warmly, stopping in front of her with a fond tilt of your head.

Natasha bites her lips lightly to keep her grin from widening at your words. Just as she’s about to step closer, a gentle knock on the door behind her reminds her of her original reason for coming to see you.

“Actually, it’s not for me though,” Natasha explains before opening the door again and waving someone in.

A brown-haired girl cautiously steps into the salon at Natasha’s invitation. Her eyes look around, examining the room before falling on you with a wary gaze.

“This is Wanda,” Natasha introduces.

The girl gives you a timid wave in greeting from her crossed arm, but she subtly retreats to a position slightly behind Natasha.

Her expression is pinched with apprehension as if she’s anticipating some sort of reaction from you.

You recognize Wanda quickly from the nightly tv alerts, her picture now featured alongside Natasha’s after the news broke about a high-security prison break a month ago.

Before you can offer her some reassurance, another familiar face walks in.

“The perimeter is secure,” the man announces before focusing on you and extending his hand in a greeting. “Hello, I’m Steve.”

Reacting instinctively to his polite greeting, you shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“Hi, my name’s Y/n. I’m Natasha’s friend.”

Steve raises a brow at that and gives you a skeptical look.

“Just a friend? With the way Nat talks about you, I thought she was going to pull the same move as Barton and introduce us to her secret family.”

That draws a curious look from you as you ask him.

“What did she say?”

“Well—”

A loud cough from Natasha interrupts your conversation, drawing your attention before he can continue further.

Natasha’s subtle glare silences Steve, her arms crossed in disapproval, as she grits out to him, “Didn’t you say you wanted to see if you could find a place to resupply?”

Hearing this and wanting to offer some help, you raise your hand to get their attention and interject, “Most places around here are closed at this time, but…”

You pause as you go to the back and retrieve your keys and offer them to Steve, explaining, “...there is a convenience store around the corner that belongs to my ex’s grandparents. They gave me a spare key for if I ever need something. Just write down what you take and leave the money behind the counter. Oh, and the security cameras don’t actually work, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Steve takes the keys from you with a grateful nod.

“Thank you, this’ll help us out a lot.”

He then turns to Natasha and Wanda.

“I'll meet up with you two when you finish up here then,” he says, heading towards the door.

“I can come help you,” Wanda offers, moving to follow Steve, but Natasha blocks her path with a knowing expression.

“You said you wanted to change your look since we’ll be going into hiding,” she reminds Wanda who twists her lips in disappointment when she realizes she failed to escape.

“I didn’t think that meant we would be forcing someone to do it for me,” Wanda says, still glancing at you with apprehension.

You wave your hand in reassurance, interjecting quickly, “Oh, I don’t mind. Natasha’s not forcing me to do this. I’m happy to help.”

“Well, that’s settled then,” Steve declares with an acknowledging nod to you. “Thanks again, Y/n.”

After a pointed gesture from Natasha, Wanda settles into one of the chairs with a small sigh.

Natasha leans against the counter facing you and Wanda as you move to your position behind the chair.

“So, what color did you want to dye your hair?” you ask her.

“It doesn’t matter,” Wanda replies with a resigned tone, her eyes downcasted and focused on her hands in her lap.

You frown slightly in concern at her defeated attitude, and you look at Natasha, giving her a meaningful look.

“What do you think, Natasha? I believe I got some new colors recently. Maybe purple or green would fit her,” you ponder out loud as if actually considering those options.

Wanda’s head shoots up in shock as she sputters incredulously, “Green?”

Natasha grins, catching on to your intentions, as she shrugs casually at your suggestions, adding, “You could never go wrong with blue.”

You laugh at her comment, nodding in agreement.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Wanda says quickly, a hint of exasperation in her voice. She points seriously at the two of you. “No to all those. I don’t want it to be that big of a change.”

Her voice lowers to a sad but determined tone.

“I don’t want it to be as if they succeeded in forcing me to change who I am,” Wanda admits as she stares down at her hands where a red ball of mist flows between her fingers in a gentle pattern.

“Well, the great thing about changing your hair is that ultimately whatever you decide, it’s your choice to make,” you say, your gaze meeting Natasha’s slightly widened eyes, before continuing firmly, “No one can take that decision from you.”

Wanda contemplates your words for a moment and then nods at you decisively.

“Can you lighten my hair into an auburn color?” she asks.

You give her a gentle smile and nod, replying, “Alright then. Auburn it is.”

Before you touch her hair, you give her a questioning look and ask, “Are you comfortable for me to touch your hair and start?”

Wanda blinks at you in surprise, and her tense posture relaxes slightly when she realizes you’re asking for her permission.

With a nod, she responds softly, “Go ahead.”

As you work on Wanda’s hair, Natasha watches you intently with a fond look in her eyes, lost in her thoughts at the sight of you and glad that she had this opportunity to see you again.

Before she knows it, you’re already finishing up applying the last coatings of the dye on Wanda’s hair when you suddenly speak up.

“You know, I’ve always had a soft spot for redheads,” you state casually before meeting Natasha’s eyes with a teasing smile.

“Are you trying to say that you don’t have a soft spot for me now that I’m blonde?” Natasha asks with an amused raise of a brow.

You shrug nonchalantly and hum in thought as if having to contemplate the answer.

Natasha huffs in disbelief and rolls her eyes slightly at you.

However, your words remind her of what you mentioned earlier to Steve, and Natasha can’t help but ask curiously.

“Was your ex also a redhead?” she asks, her tone seemingly casual.

“Impressive, your deduction skills as a spy must be really good,” you tease, chuckling lightly, as you return your focus to Wanda’s hair.

“The two of you must’ve been pretty serious for their grandparents to still trust you like that,” Natasha says, unable to hide the slight bitterness of the thought slipping into her tone.

You laugh and shake your head quickly in denial.

“No, definitely not. She moved away years ago, and our relationship didn’t really end on good terms. My close relationship with her grandparents is kind of like my revenge on her. Plus, they’re actually a sweet old couple.”

“Oh,” Natasha says, a small breath of relief releasing from her.

“I’m not really seeing anyone at the moment,” you admit softly.

“Natasha’s single too,” Wanda chimes in, her focus originally on the sitcom playing on the tv but now looking between the two of you with interest.

“That’s a surprise,” you say with a laugh as you go into the back to retrieve some things.

Natasha chuckles lightly as you leave before giving Wanda the same warning glare that she gave Steve. Unfazed, Wanda just gestures with her head encouragingly in your direction.

However, Natasha shakes her head resolutely in a silent reply to her, and before Wanda can attempt to convince her further, you come back and begin doing the last steps on Wanda’s hair.

With one final brush of Wanda’s newly red hair, you declare happily, “All finished.”

“Thanks, Y/n,” Wanda says as she stands from the chair and goes to examine her hair in the mirror.

You watch as a small smile appears on her face, and you let out a breath of relief, glad to finally see Wanda in a moment of happiness.

Natasha comes up next to you and holds out some money in an offer.

“Thank you for doing this,” Natasha says.

You shake your head in refusal, your hands folded behind you as you face her.

“I’m sure you all need this more than I do,” you say resolutely.

Natasha chuckles lightly and huffs in disbelief.

“You know, you can’t always give me free passes like this every time. You should be paid for your work,” Natasha points out.

You hum in thought before tilting your head at her with a questioning look.

“How about dinner?” you suggest.

A surprised expression appears on Natasha’s face, but she hesitates to answer, facing the same situation again of wanting to accept your offer, but a beep at her side along with the message that comes with it reminds her why she can’t.

“Steve’s on his way back. I have to take Wanda back to the safe house and then we’re moving right after,” she explains sadly with regret. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Nat. I know,” you say gently in understanding, taking a small step back from her and changing your tone into one lighter.

“But if you’re ever in the area again, you’re always welcome here.”

You turn to look at Wanda, adding, “All of you.”

“Can I walk you back home at least?” Natasha asks.

Before you can respond, the sound of a car pulling up outside catches your attention, and based on Natasha’s disappointed expression, you know that’s probably Steve.

“It’s okay, Natasha. You can go,” you reassure her, offering a comforting smile.

Wanda gives you a small wave goodbye as she exits, but Natasha lingers at the door, her gaze fixed on you.

“About before…” she starts before hesitating and trailing off into silence as she presses her lips together in contemplation.

When her shoulder drops slightly in defeat and disappointment, you know she’s decided against whatever she’s about to say.

“You can just tell me later,” you suggest. “You know, whenever I get to see you again.”

Though you both know that you don’t know when that’ll be.

“Right,” Natasha agrees, her smile tinged with sadness as she gives you one last glance and moving to leave. “I’ll see you next time, Y/n.”

After closing up, you head home, the events of the evening replaying in your mind.

Though the goodbye was bittersweet, you’re still happy you got a chance to see Natasha again so soon and even meet the other important people in her life.

As you step out of your bathroom, just finished with a shower, a knock on your door interrupts your thoughts.

You check who it is before quickly unlocking and opening the door for them.

“Hey…” Natasha’s voice trails off, her gaze taking in your appearance.

Remnants of water from the shower still remain on your exposed skin since you decided to wear some light clothing to counter the warm temperature outside.

Leaning against the doorway, you greet her with a curious tilt of your head at her sudden silence.

“Hey,” you reply in greeting.

Natasha shakes her head lightly as if coming out of a daze and gestures in a direction behind her.

“So, uh, Steve said that he can take Wanda back to the safe house. She really loves her hair by the way. Um, she also told me that I should..uh..I should see you again before we leave…”

Your lips twitch in amusement at Natasha’s endearing ramble, your gaze softening as you continue to listen.

“…but it looks like you’re probably about to go to sleep, so I should just go,” Natasha concludes, turning to leave.

“Wait,” you call out, your hand instinctively reaching towards her, but you stop yourself before you touch her, your hand retracting back to your side, a mixture of hesitation and longing in your movements.

Natasha pauses at your request, and when she sees your hesitating action, her features soften in understanding.

Stepping back closer to you, she extends her hand in invitation.

“You can touch me, Y/n,” Natasha reassures you. “I never have a problem if it’s you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, touched by her trust.

Tentatively, you reach out, your hand finding hers, before checking for any signs of discomfort but end up seeing none from her.

Your hand then trails up lightly to her shoulder and then to the back of her neck, your fingers play with the strands of her short hair as you watch her carefully.

Natasha closes her eyes at your touch, the same serene expression appearing on her face as before.

Seeing this, you bring your other hand to cup her cheek as you urge gently.

“What was it that you wanted to tell me earlier?”

Natasha opens her eyes and meets your gaze with an affectionate look, her hand moving up to hold the back of yours as she responds.

“That it was real,” she confesses softly.

You furrow your brows lightly in confusion, prompting Natasha to clarify.

“Your question from before,” she explains. “It was real for me too.”

Natasha lets out a shaky breath as she continues, “I loved that I had you on my side back then, and the truth is…I’d love to have you by my side now.”

Surprised by her admission, you search her eyes but only find genuine warmth and sincerity in her gaze.

Natasha’s smile softens, and you find yourself drawn to her at the action, unconsciously leaning in closer.

Even though Natasha gave you permission earlier to touch her, this desire that you have is different, so you give her the same questioning look that you always have before and ask hesitantly in a breathless whisper.

“Can I kiss you?”

Natasha chuckles lightly under her breath at your question, resting her forehead against yours.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

With a gentle pull, you close the small distance between the two of you, sharing a tender kiss with her. Her lips are soft against yours, fitting perfectly and enveloping you with the same warmth that you've always felt from her.

When you finally pull away, your breath still mingling with hers, Natasha gives you a teasing grin.

“So, about that dinner?”

Laughing, you roll your eyes fondly and wrap your arms around her to pull her into your home.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2018 (2 Years Later)

The soft rustling of movement reaches your ears, pulling you from your sleep. You glance at the clock on the nightstand, its dim glow showing the late hour, before turning your gaze to the familiar figure standing beside the bed, quietly slipping her shirt over her frame with practiced ease.

“Nat?”

At the sound of your voice, Natasha turns back to you, her expression reassuring as she moves to sit beside you. Her hand rests gently on your shoulder, stopping you when she sees that you’re about to sit up.

“Go back to sleep, moya lyubov,” Natasha whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “Wanda and Vision missed their check-in, so Steve and I are just going to check up on them real quick.”

A flicker of unease flares within you at the news, coupled with the realization that Natasha intends to go straight toward potential unknown dangers.

Your hand reaches out and grips her arms, a surge of unsettling fear tightening in your chest.

“Natasha, don’t…”

Don’t go

The words are trapped in your throat as you stare at her.

Holding your gaze, Natasha’s eyes reflect both love and determination.

Love for you…and for her makeshift family.

And as much as you wish for her safety, you know you can’t keep her from her loyalty and duty to them.

With a bittersweet smile, you cradle her face in your hands, suppressing the selfish urge to ask her to stay.

“Don’t take too long to come back,” you manage, a hint of teasing in your voice as you catch a strand of her blonde hair in your hand. “We wouldn’t want your hair to be two different colors by the time you return.”

Natasha chuckles lightly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on your lips.

“It’s going to be a quick trip. I’ll be back soon,” she promises.

You pull her close, giving her another lingering kiss, before wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug and tucking your head against her shoulder.

“And I’ll be here when you do,” you whisper against her in a promise in return.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2023 (5 Years Later)

In the quiet solitude of the salon, Natasha stands alone, the weight of the five years after the snap hangs heavy in the air.

A mixture of exhaustion and sorrow is etched on her face as she examines the space.

With a weary sigh, she rubs at her eyes, wiping away the stray tears at the memories of you. She remembers vividly her last moments with you, your unspoken words to her.

The truth is she knew, deep down, what you were about to say to her at that time. And she understood why you stopped yourself.

Because if you had asked her not to go, she would’ve chosen to stay with you without any hesitation.

Seating herself in one of the chairs, Natasha meets her reflection in the mirror with unwavering determination.

Her hair has grown out to its former length over the past five years. Yet, traces of the dyed parts you did for her still linger at the tips.

Those strands of blonde color are her lifeline — a connection to the part of her life that she holds dear.

They serve as a constant reminder to keep going.

To keep fighting for a way to bring everyone back.

To bring you back.

Because amidst all the uncertainties of the world and the future, one thing remains steadfast in Natasha’s heart — she would do anything to see you again.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n : Thank you for reading!

Part 2

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff

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thatnonameuser · 2 months ago

Text

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 7.

This place can get fucked.

No, seriously. You’re seriously starting to hate this place.

You’ve been hanging on one of your last threads of self control for the last day. And really, it’s fraying so fast that you can feel your muscles twitch from the lingering stress in your body boiling over into anger.

But you’ll bite your fucking tongue bloody to make reason and maybe correct this.

You’re not confident that'll happen though.

“W-Wait! You can’t just throw them out over a tart! We’ll just take it and go!” You try to make him see reason but so far, reason is the last thing this world sees. After all, if it did, you wouldn’t be so terrified of Ace and Deuce. And yes, you’re only defending them because the sooner this mess is over, the sooner you can actually sleep tonight. But still, this is completely outrageous.

But since this dorm’s rules come straight from the loony bin from a tyrannical dictator that got what she deserved in the end, and the person enforcing them is about as oppressive megalomaniac as the inspiration…what the hell were you expecting?!

“Yeah! If you want the tart gone, let me eat it!” Grim makes a dash for the tart, but all it takes is for an angry glare from Riddle for one of those terrified card soldiers to quickly take it and throw it out. Isn’t that just great? All that hard work for nothing.

For the first time since this mess started, Trey takes responsibility for messing up Ace’s apology, and sending his dorm leader into a tizzy. “Dorm Leader, allow me to apologize. I was the one who suggested making a chestnut tart!”

Thankfully, Cater takes a little responsibility too, considering he was the one that caused this tea party to turn into a mess. “I was a part of that too. We had no idea there was a rule about it!”

But Riddle’s just as uncompromising as he was at lunch yesterday. “The making of the tart is not the issue. The issue is bringing it HERE. Today. THAT is the transgression!”

“We were going to bring it earlier, it’s just we were unexpectedly..” You grind that out as you glare at Cater for that stupid detour, “distracted! How can you be so mean and uncompromising after he worked so hard! You have to think it’s at least a little stupid to live by these foolish rules!”

“Yeah! All you do is cite one stupid rule after another! You sound totally foolish!” Yes! Thank you Ace! At least someone else disagrees with this complete insanity.

Riddle’s face goes from angry to furious, “What did you just call me? ‘Foolish?!’”

Cater grabs you and Ace by your arms to pull you both away from the rising argument, “Everyone, stop! Don’t dig this hole any deeper! And Riddle, please try to remember that these are new students who’ve only been here a few days!” but you wretch your arm away. You already know that Riddle hates excuses IN apologies, and you’re not apologizing to this self-righteous pain in your ass.

Thankfully, Ace doesn’t buy the BS being spat out right now, “Nah, bro. I’ve got a shovel and I am DIGGING. Throwing away a tart to obey some insane rule is about as foolish as it gets.”

“I agree with Ace. Of course, I understand that rules do need to be followed, but…This is going much too far.” Deuce is on your side too, thank the seven. Someone else isn’t going to stand idly by for this fever dream.

“Too far is an understatement.” You say point-blank. “You’re acting like a crazy person over a tart! You can't deny that you're being foolish!”

Riddle’s angry glare falls on you “A person like you has no right to tell me what is and isn't foolish!”

Is he referring to you? And why is he- “Though I can't say I'm not surprised by your reaction, considering how your kind tends to act” Oh no.

To the ears of others you hope that they think that he's saying that you're just a troublemaker, but you know that he thinks otherwise. Because he already knows you're a darling. And he knows that you know that.

Which means that if he wanted to, he could reveal who you really are to anyone within earshot. Which is especially bad considering that Ace and Deuce are already suspicious of you.

This isn’t good…..

Maybe you should shut up for now.

Probably satisfied that he shut you up, he receptors his focus and rage back on Ace. “And you…Are you attempting to debate me? Bold move, but I’ll bite. By breaking even the smallest rule, you are throwing wide the gate to anarchy.”

You feel the urge to point out the obvious about how insane he's acting over a tart, but instead you bite your tongue.

Regardless though, Ace is there to say what you can't. Now very fed up, Ace gestures to the silent audience to this ‘debate’.. “Everyone, I know you’re afraid of getting your magic sealed away, but you know this is insane, right?”

But instead of speaking their minds, all of them jolt at being put on the spot, fidgeting and squirming in fear of the dorm leader's wrath. “N-No, we, uh….”

Some actually look like they’re willing to speak up against Riddle’s leadership, but whatever attempts at resistance there are in the crowd, they are squashed as soon as Riddle’s angry glare is set upon them. “Well? Isn’t it?”

“Far from it, Dorm Leader Riddle, sir!” One brave/cowardly soul says from the crowd and the bystander effect comes into effect full force. Because as soon as that one person gets his words out, the other card soldiers follow suit. “We trust in your judgment, sir!”

Once again, it’s just like your dream with the card soldiers standing idly by next to their fellow cards’/ dormmates’ abuse. You hate your dreams, stupid bad omens. Stupid self-serving card soldiers…

“You little…”

“You spineless, fair-weather cowards…” Ace mutters at the betrayal of his dormmates and fellow victims.

Now probably overconfident from the residents’ denial of his tyranny, Riddle starts some spiel. “In the year since I became Dorm Leader, not a single student from Heartslabyul House has dropped out or been held back a year. We are the only house that can boast such a feat. Furthermore, of everyone in this dorm, I have the best academic standing.” Whatever point Riddle’s getting to, his statements aren’t really the proof he thinks it is, just because they’re still here doesn’t mean they aren’t planning to leave. Also, doesn’t the fear of failure push you to break the rules to avoid failing?

“What does that have to do with anything?” You Someone can be super smart and still be very wrong.

He pauses in his tirade, speaking slowly, like you're a child incapable of understanding what he’s saying. “Hence I am the most correct! If you would simply obey me without question, we wouldn’t need to contend so.” Okay, rude. You bite your tongue to stop yourself from offending him further, but seven only knows you want to.

“Listen, we-”

Riddle interrupts Deuce, isn’t there a rule about interrupting someone while they speak? “It’s not off with their heads because ‘I’ want to do that. I do it because rules must never be broken.”

Still completely pissed about the fact that you might have In the corner of your eye, you see Trey cross his arms looking guilty. There has to be something wrong between the two of them. Because what Trey wouldn’t defend Riddle so much and then not tell him when he’s wrong if there wasn’t something strange or tense between them.

“If you will not obey me, then I will have all of your heads!” This isn’t just being a control freak, this is being a total dictator. Even some of the most overbearing control freaks can understand that mistakes are a human characteristic.

Cater intervenes again, to play peacemaker, “Okay, let’s all say, “Yes, Dorm Leader Riddle.” and screw that. Revelations be damned, you can't just agree with him because you're scared about what he'll do. That'll make you no better than the others staying silent.

“I can’t.” Deuce

“Me neither.” You cross your arms in indignation. “What you’re doing is just unfair.”

“Yeah, ____ we don’t bow to self-important tyrants!”

Riddle’s cheeks turn red as his anger grows.

“What did you just call me?”

“He called you what you are. A tyrant.” You repeat, what you're doing is very risky but still he can stay mad about it. Darling or not, you're not going to leave this alone.

“Yeah Henchman’s right! You wanted to destroy good food just ‘cause you’re throwin’ a tantrum!”

“Guys, I don’t think we need to escalate this-” It’s much too late for that. Because before Deuce can finish his sentence….

“Off! With! Your! Heads!”

There’s a flash of light and in seconds there’s a tight pressure around your neck. You cough in surprise and “Aw shit.” There’s a collar like Ace’s around your neck. And Deuce and Grim are wearing them too. Why? Speaking your mind isn't against the rules!

Still boiling mad, he spits orders like the tyrant he is. “Trey! Cater! Eject them from the premises!”

For the two very lively people they were, they immediately turn to the reluctant drones that the other card soldiers are once Riddle starts yelling at them, “...Yes sir, Dorm Leader.”

You shrug Trey's hand of your shoulder and glare at him in distaste. He doesn’t want to meet your eyes

“You’re supposed to be our ‘mentors’!” Ace objects vehemently at the betrayal. And all the two can do is spill empty apologies.

“Sorry, but we can’t disobey our dorm leader!”

“Sorry, man..”

They were fine with it yesterday. Glad to know that was all for nothing.

“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be? Then bring it on!” Somewhere in this conversation, Ace must have forgotten that everyone about to be thrown out either had no magic to begin with, or can’t cast it thanks to the stupid collars. So obviously, they get trounced. It was kind of sad really.

Before Trey pulls you out, you yell at Riddle “Hey Rosehearts! I don't have magic. Take the collar off!” It’s already unfair that Deuce and Grim got one for questioning his authority, you getting one is just cruel and unusual punishment.

He gives you a snide look, “Perhaps you should wear it for a while too. Since you seem to have forgotten it, it might help to properly remind you of your place.”

This little…..

Trey and Cater kick you out before you can paint Riddle’s ears with the full capacity of your swear dictionary.

So. Now what?

“I'm gonna kill him.”

“_____-”

“No, Deuce, no, I’m serious.” It’s one thing to saddle Ace and Deuce with you for another fucking night, but then to collar you, an non-magic user, just because he got butt hurt. You hope someone chops off his head to see how he likes it.

Though now that you think about it, you really feel bad for the darling he’s meant to have in this world. If he’s this strict over a tiny thing like a tart then there’s no telling what he’ll flip the hell out for. You’d hate to be them.

“Stop, tryna be an honor student about this Juice. She’s right, we should just kill him. We can get away with it.”

“See, Deuce. Listen to Ace, we might just get a parade for ridding the dorm of that menace.” You don’t really want to encourage them to murder, but you’re pissed and the twerp deserves it.

“Yeah, even without my magic I’ll kick that guy’s butt so hard that he’ll regret collaring the Great Grim for the rest of his life.”

So you were all kicked out thirty minutes ago. And here you all are in the rose maze, with the music of the unbirthday party in the background. All of you had collars on your necks, and you were really pissed about this nonsense if you couldn’t tell already.

With you no longer there to be the voice of reason, because you were fuming, Deuce was trying to calm your bloodlust before you do something you might regret.

Which you probably might, if you keep encouraging Ace to kill someone.

You take a deep breath, or seven, before finally sighing in defeat. “Ugh. We probably shouldn’t kill anyone.”

“But-”

“We really shouldn’t kill anyone Ace.” You finally say,

Ace huffs in displeasure. “Fine. Still, who does he think HE is, the Queen of Hearts?” Ace kicks over one of the empty paint cans in his rage.

“Probably, Ace.” You tug at your shirt to give yourself more room to breathe. This stupid thing is super claustrophobic no wonder Grim hates it.

Speaking of, “Stupid collar! It’s so tight! GRrr!” Grim fights with the collar for the umpteenth time, and you sigh.

“We should probably go see Crowley. If Riddle will listen to someone, it’ll probably be him.” You huff, things just keep going downhill-

A voice pops up from the ether. “You’re really racking up those collars. Quite the impressive collection.”

“Who-?” You jump at the sound of a new voice, scanning the hedges and rose bushes for a source-”AH!”

“BWAH?!”

It’s a head, a floating head in the middle of the garden! Seriously, who did a line of cocaine before making this world!

“Myah! A ghost head!” Grim freaks the hell out, retreating into the safety of your arms, his fur standing up on end.

The head tilts to the side, one of his ears twitching, before looking down, “Oh dear. It seems I’m not all here.” He laughs as the rest of his body fades into view. Oh, it’s magic. Thank goodness. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“What? Er, so you do have a body, then?” Deuce’s brain finally catches up to the shock he’s just seen. “Who are you?”

“The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker.” …….Wha? Forget the other names so far, did his parents have a stroke writing his name? He circles you all while starting a confusing spiel. “As for what I am….Am I a cat? Am I a purrrson? A mimsy borogrove, perhaps? A mome rath with a knack for magic?”

Great riddles. You already had an infuriating run in with the human Riddle, now you had to deal with the non-human kind. Wonderful. “Your name is…Artem- Could you say that again please?”

He laughs, with a cheshire smile, “People usually just call me Chenya. And let’s just say I’m not from the other side of the looking glass.” …..The hell does that mean? Is he from here? Or not? Either way, like everyone else here, he’s very weird.

“Yet another weirdo…” you mutter. You’re starting to wonder how in the hell Alice didn’t lose her mind in wonderland.

He must’ve heard you but he doesn’t take offense, instead he gets up close and personal, stopping right before your noses touch. “You think so? I’d say by the standards here, I’m no more mad than anyone else.”

Ace pulls you away from Art- Artemi- Chenya, by your arm and asks you as Chenya the other question that was on your mind. “Uh…what dorm are you from?”

He hums a laugh. “Why don’t you try to guess?” The animal ears remind you of Savanaclaw, but he’s not dressed in any yellow.

Grim takes the opportunity to display his intellect, “Oh, I know! He’s got animal ears, so you gotta be from….uh…Bananaclaw, was it?” No, wait a second, his uniform doesn’t even look like NRC’s. Does he even go here?

“Bzzzt! Incorrect. Bananas grow on trees, do they not? I, on the other hand, am a cat.” He reminds you of someone, just who exactly are you thinking of….

Deuce contemplates the question at hand. “And besides, other dorms have students with animal ears, too.”

Ace, on the other hand, is still pissed. “After that insanity that teapot tyrant put me through, I’m not in the mood for whatever this is. Just leave us alone.”

His ears twitch at the mention of a tyrant. “Riddle the teapot tyrant…Heh Heh. Well, I can’t dismiss that perspective as wrong.” He knows Riddle? Wait, you never mentioned Riddle. “He’s always been quite strict.”

“How did you know we were talking about Riddle? And do you know something about him?” You ask.

Chenya doesn’t answer, giving you that ear-to-ear grin, “Perhaps there are things that I know, and perhaps there are things that I don’t.” Yay….confusing riddles.

“That’s not an answer!” Grim objects.

Still smiling and still laughing, Chenya asks “Is there something you wish to know about Riddle?”

“Yeah, what created such a control freak?”

Chenya tilts his head in thought at Ace’s question, tapping his chin with a finger. “I believe his four-eyed friend may have the answer.” Wait, Trey? Also, Riddle has friends?

“Four-eyed friend? You mean Trey?” Deuce asks.

“He’s known Riddle since we were all little boys. If you want to know more about Riddle, I would begin my quest there.” Well that was uh, helpful. But if they all have known each other, why is Riddle so uncaring to Trey? If they’re supposed to be friends, they don’t act like it.

“They’re childhood friends? I didn’t get that impression.”

“Me neither,” You agree, “Could have fooled me, I didn’t think Riddle had any friends.”

Chenya laughs, his body starting to turn translucent“If you’re so perceptive, then what are you asking me for? Buh-bye!”

“Hey! Wait!” You try to stop him from disappearing, but Chenya only laughs before his head vanishes.

Well, that was something.

“I tell ya, no one makes any sense around here.” You nod in agreement. Nothing makes sense here.

Well, if talking to Trey will clear this whole thing up, then you need to speak with him soon. And from the sounds of music in the garden. That won’t be for a while.

“We should wait to speak with Trey, and then..”

Ace interrupts Deuce. “If you’re gonna say “Apologize to Riddle,” you can forget it!”

“I don’t think you should. Riddle’s clearly in the wrong here. But we might have some trouble speaking with Trey if he’s still in the dorm we’re kicked out of. But…”

“We might have to set up a little ambush…” Ace and Deuce don’t disagree, in fact Deuce is cracking his knuckles in preparation.

Now all you need to do is plan and wait.

“Hello Trey.”

Your group of four hadn’t exactly figured out what to do after Chenya told you about Trey and Riddle’s childhood friendship. Being banned from Heartslabyul and then watching another unfortunate student get thrown out minutes later with a magic collar around their neck told you that going in to find him wasn’t going to end well.

It was luck that you noticed Trey's tart cookbook yesterday, and even luckier that you remembered he probably hadn’t returned it already.

So you all staked out the library until he came back after the unbirthday party. Which Trey thankfully came alone for because you needed him to trauma dump on Riddle’s past very hard.

“You four!” He doesn’t seem surprised to see you. This must happen a lot.

“We figured that if we waited at the library, you’d show up to return your tart cookbook eventually.” Actually you figured that part out. You just thought you’d let Deuce be the one to say it, he’s had a rough day with his honor student problem.

“We still got a problem with the way Dorm Leader Riddle is handling all of this.” Ace has more than a problem with this, considering you had to calm him down enough to even have this conversation.

Trey shakes his head in exhaustion. “Yeah, I thought you might say that.” The more you hear about this the more you think that Trey was just hoping the problem would go away on its own.

Ace thankfully gets straight to the point.“Come clean with us. What’s your take on Riddle? Is it true you’ve been pandering to him since the two of you were kids?”

Trey recoils like he’s been struck across the face. “What?! Who told you that?”

“A Chenya popped up in the garden and explained the whole thing.” You say.

He sighs in exasperation. “Chenya…Huh. That explains it.”

“What I don’t get is, aren’t you older than Riddle? Why haven’t ya told him off already?”

“Grim’s right. If you’re supposed to be friends then why don’t you say something. If you’re friends, he might listen to you!” Trey better have a good reason for letting this get as bad as it did. Because he probably could have stopped this way earlier if he just did as Grim said.

“I do when I need to. I don’t think the situation calls for it.”

Well, that’s a load of BS right there. “No offense Trey, but are you blind?!” You’re done being reasonable about this. He needs to hear this as it is. “He’s ruling over your dorm with an iron fist, collaring anyone that slips up even on accident, and the situation doesn’t call for it?! How can you call yourself his friend if you aren’t telling him when he’s enforcing rules like he’s a tyrant!”

Trey shakes his head and averts your eyes. If he feels ashamed then good. This could have-“Because these sorts of strict rules…They’re what created Riddle.” -been…avoided…?

“I don’t follow.” You say.

You knew that Riddle probably had some serious trauma to make him the way he is, but as you were expecting he did.

As Trey was kind enough to inform you, Riddle’s mother was one of those mom’s who pushed her legacy onto her kids, and wouldn’t give them an inch unless they met her incredibly and unfairly high standards.

A childhood scheduled down to the last possible second sounded awful, and because kids are biologically inclined to care for their parents, Riddle did as was expected of him. But to have no freedom of choice your entire life, because of your mother’s rules, no wonder he followed rules so strictly, it was all he ever knew.

But still he had to rebel at least once, find fun in something outside the heavy rules that constricted around his life, after all he was no perfect child, he was only human.

“I can’t even imagine how hard he must’ve had it.”

“That…” It’s horrible that his mother messed him up that bad, but it isn’t just her fault anymore…Now Riddle’s, as he’s now being his own worst enemy and he’s not even aware of it. And even worse, the most unfortunate part of this was that this horrible childhood gave you the upside that at the very least this was proof that even with this society’s ridiculous laws and beliefs, life wasn’t perfect. And to be honest, to you that doesn’t sound like a victory. “That sounds horrible.”

Trey nods, “Riddle sees the enforcement of strict rules as a service to his dorm members. In his eyes, being bound by rigid guidelines by fear- is a fast track to personal growth.”

“But he has to know that’s not the same for everyone,” You point out, “either you make them ‘better’ or you teach them to break the rules without anyone noticing.” You’re not an expert on this, but you’re pretty sure this won’t end the way Riddle wants it to, which adds an extra edge of sadness to this downward spiral Riddle’s unknowingly put himself in.

Trey shakes his head, and he keeps talking even though he sounds so pained,“He might but, it was that strictness was what worked for him. And on the flip side, he sees the violation of those rules as an inexcusable offense.”

“I guess that makes sense, since rules made him who he is.” At least Ace is able to understand that Riddle’s situation sounds terrible to grow up in.

“Look, I totally get why you see Riddle as a tyrant, and why you disapprove of his methods. But for me…I can’t hold that against him, you know?” Trey may be right in thinking Riddle is a delicate situation to handle, as no one would like being told their childhood was emotionally abusive and they didn’t notice, but that doesn’t make this okay.

Being oppressive over people that don’t share your ideals isn’t okay no matter what childhood you have.

“Myah…”

“So that’s why he’s like that.”

Deuce and Grim might not have been able to pick up on what you have, but this isn’t a reason for Riddle’s madness.

It’s an excuse for why Trey hasn’t done anything.

“All right, now I get it.” Ace says finally. “It’s YOUR fault Riddle’s like this.” So he understands it the same way you do.

“What?!”

“I agree with Ace. This IS your fault, Trey. Sure, he had a hard childhood. But you’ve known that what his mother did to him was wrong and you let him repeat it, because you’re too afraid to stop him.”

“_____’s right. You’re going easy on him because he had it rough as a kid? Don’t you see where that’s leading? You’re letting him make a pariah out of himself!”

Deuce tries to shut Ace up before he offends their upperclassman, “Ace, man, come on…”

But Ace ignores him. “So why don’t you say something? Are you just afraid you’ll ‘lose your head’ too? That’s pathetic! You guys are supposed to be childhood friends?! Then act like it-”

“YOU THERE! BE QUIET! YOU ARE IN A LIBRARY!!!”

Headmaster Crowley comes out of nowhere and takes you completely by surprise, as it echoes throughout the library.

“But you’re yellin’ louder ‘n any of us, though!” Grim points out exasperated.

“Oh!” He clears his voice before hushing into a whisper, “Yes, my apologies. But let us strive to maintain the library as a quiet place for reading.”

“What are you doing here, Headmaster?” You ask.

“I’m researching methods to send you back home. Precisely as I promised I would.”

That gets your attention! “Did you find anything?!” You say hopeful, if he has then that’s one step closer to you returning home. You’ll accept any news, even horrific news!

Crowley hesitates for far too long. “Uh, No, unfortunately…But I am gracious! And the library is, of course, an ideal place for serious research.”

“Aw.” Your mood deflates like a balloon. Ah, well at least he’s trying.

“It’s not as if I came here just to secure the newest book in that popular series of novels. No, certainly not.” Wait, what did he say?

“Wait, what-”

He clears his throat and brushes you off, “Incidentally, what are you all discussing with such grim faces?”

“Wait a second. What were you not actually-”

“Now I understand, you are resistant to the idea of apologizing, but unable to devise any other method to get the dorm leader to remove the collar.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

“I see, If you and the dorm leader are truly unable to reconcile, you could always transfer. However, this is the dorm that the Dark Mirror chose for you based on the essence of your being. Any attempt to relocate would necessitate quite a burdensome process, as well as a new ritual.” Of course, they are strings attached to this nonsense. You might as well just let Ace move in, which you really don’t want to do with what happened this morning.

And Ace is stubborn, so transferring is the equivalent of saying Riddle’s right and that means that transferring is not happening.

After some thought, Crowley finally responds. “Hmm. Then it sounds like you should challenge Mr. Rosehearts for leadership of the dorm.”

“WHAAAAAT?!” That’s a thing?! Even Trey is surprised for shit’s sake and he’s a third year! Does Crowley just withhold information for the fun of it, because seriously he just refuses to tell people things just to make a joke later?!

“Lower your voices! This is a library!” Crowley whisper-yells.

“But what you said was…insane?” Ace whisper-yells in complete disbelief. But to be honest, Whatever He’s said much more insane things to you….You probably wouldn’t have noticed if Crowley hadn’t spelled it out for you. Maybe this will lead to a solution somehow?

“There is nothing remotely ‘insane’ about it. After all, that’s how Mr. Rosehearts got the position.” Wait, how did Trey not- nevermind.

So dorm leaders can either be named by the predecessor or duel for the position. Well, this could be worse. If Riddle became housewarden within a week it could be possible for Ace or Deuce to do it.

Plus, it would get the collars of them before the duel because they need their magic to- Wait.

“But if you fight Riddle, then-”

“So what do you say, Mr. Trappola? Will you challenge Mr. Rosehearts?”

“But wait, if you fight Riddle-”

“Sure, I’ll give it a shot!”

“Ace, if you duel Riddle then he’ll-”

“Then I will too!”

“Me three!”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Grim. You cannot challenge a dorm leader of a dorm to which you do not belong.”

“Myah?! Then how’m I supposed to get this buzzkill collar off?!”

“About that, if-”

“If I become dorm leader, I’ll just order Riddle to remove it! Easy-peasy!”

“But I don’t think you’ll w-”

“How will everyone know how tough I am if you do that?” You facepalm, they’re not listening. And they’re pumped up, so they’re probably not paying attention to the obvious detail they’re ignoring.

That Riddle will slap the collars right back on them as soon as the duel begins.

Even though Trey knows this, he doesn’t stop them or tell them that instead he says, “Are you sure about this? I certainly didn’t expect you to throw your hat into the ring, Deuce.”

“You didn’t? I think every man’s gotta make a grab for glory at least once in his lifetime.” Well, it’s too late to talk Deuce out of this. Yay. “And if we’re teaming up to take him down, ya better believe I’m running the show!”

“Oh man, here we go again.” The devious smiles on Ace and Deuce’s faces tell you that this plan is doomed from the start. Note to self, stop by Sam’s later to see if he has any charms or spells that can make your room impossible to enter without your permission, because you’re probably about to get two new roommates

“Huh? What’d you say?”

“Then I’ll get started on the paperwork,” Crowley says excitedly.

“Are you guys sure this is a good idea? Because-” Again, you’re interrupted.

“Don’t get all worked up on me now. All we need’s a plan. Anyone got one?”

“Hmm. Hard to imagine we can beat Riddle with straightforward magic. A solid left hook, on the other hand…”

“Yeah, that guy looks like a pushover.” Oh, well that could work. Riddle could beat them in magic, but with fists though-

“Ah, did I forget to mention that detail? These duels are to be fought solely with magic.” There it is. Why do you even bother?

Either way, Ace and Deuce have already decided they would do this and Crowley’s excited to make it happen, no way out of this now.

But maybe, for you, there is.

The mirror on your bedroom wall.

Let the night show you what it wants. Maybe it has something. A way out of this wonderland.

It might be uncomfortable to sleep with this collar on but,....

…..Let’s see where this rabbit hole takes you.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #yandereverse au #yandere twst x reader #this felt like filler #I mean we already know what happens #enjoy anyways #I couldn't figure out how to make this really yandere soooo #whatever this will get better in the next part #I'm gonna stop tagging now

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thyras · 2 months ago

Text

→ your shadow

PAIRING → halbrand (sauron) x f!númenórean!reader

WORD COUNT → 2.3k words

WARNINGS → pining (mainly our dark lord), stalking, flirting, secrets, manipulating dreams, obsession, sinful thoughts 🤭

SUMMARY → the dark lord begins his quest to turn you to the darkness, he uses every tactic he can think of but for some reason the darkness doesn’t consume you like the others.

AUTHORS NOTE → this is turning out to be a pretty long series so I'll start linking the previous parts. i wanted to also thank you all for the lovely comments and love for this series. it is my first time branching out to another fandom so thank you so much for welcoming me with open arms, it means the world to me 🩵

also massive warning; i am not versed in the lore as I am still new to this obviously none of what happens in here will be canonical as readers secret is probably not in the slightest possible.

FIC MASTERLIST → NEXT PART

He could not help himself. In the days following your meeting in the jail, his mind had followed you, reaching out when you slept just so he could taste the sweet thoughts and manipulate those dreams to aid in his corruption of you. He needed more than just a touch; he required a bond—one only solidified by the mixing of blood.

Like with Galadriel, you started as a cog in the master plan. Something to corrupt, a means to an end. But as he spends more and more time watching you from the shadows, he realizes that you have become more. More than a simple pawn on the board to play in this game of healing Middle-Earth.

He grew to admire your strength and resilience toward his meddling. Now, as he watched from the shadows of the darkened alley, he could not help but try to pull on that little invisible thread starting to show itself to him. However, something surprised him: a bright shimmer seemed to encompass you this time, like a shield protecting you from his onslaught.

Your laughter was so pure and sinful to his ears that it, for even the briefest moment, caused a faint shimmer of light to return to his dark soul. But the light was fleeting, and he returned to the darkness to leave you to mingle and converse with your fellow maidens until he would find you in your dreams again.

"Lord Halbrand," you called, causing him to stop his stride away from the tavern once you caught a glimpse of him probably leaving. He spun around to look at you, a thin smile on his lips. "Come sit with us," you waved him over, though slightly drunken by the ale you had been drinking if your shaky hand was any tell to him. The other maidens looked at you and spoke inaudible words. Ones they clearly aimed at him if their alarmed minds were any tell.

"Ladies," he bowed slightly as you smiled up at him. His eyes swept over the other maidens, who looked less than pleased to see the rugged man standing there.

"I see you escaped your cage," you say with a hint of amusement. "A pity for us then," he chuckled as the words spilled out your lips.

A pity indeed.

He thought mildly as he took his seat next to you. You waved for someone to bring another thing of ale before turning to him and motioning to the guild emblem on his tunic.

"I see you have been busy since we last spoke," He looked down at where you were pointing, and another thin smile rose on his lips.

"I guess," He paused. "I have your queen to thank,"

"The she-elf, to be exact," one of the other maidens said from the rim of her mug before taking a nervous sip as he turned his dark eyes on her. She's been adamant about getting you both to Middle-Earth," you kicked the fellow maiden from underneath the table. She winced and reached down to rub it soothingly.

He knew that he had Galadriel eating right out of the palm of his hand, but he wished to have you doing more than eating out of the palm of his hand. As he looked down at you, that light aura reappeared as he tried to twist the darkness against you.

Still protecting your mind from any deeper manipulation.

A woman sat a mug in front of him, and he took a sip before stating his opinion on the maiden's statement. It was not like he needed the liquid, but the deception was required to continue until it was the right time.

"The she-elf and I do not have aligned motives, and I have no wish to return to where I came from." It seemed to make your eyes sparkle at the mention of him not wanting to leave. The aura dropped just in the slightest, allowing him to manipulate the dark thread a little.

He watched as your face changed slightly before you took a nervous sip of your drink. If he could show that dark, nebulous smile, he would have. Watching you fall just that little deeper into the darkness was a joy, even if it was becoming a challenge.

But he liked challenges, and to break the sweet, innocent woman you were would be even lovelier than the rest.

His desire for you to be his was ever palpable in his mind. No mere mortal had ever caught his attention like you had. He had never been blinded by manly desires or instinctual needs; there was no need for it when you were a Maia. But he began succumbing to these desires the more he lived in this form and understood why Men, Elves, and even Dwarves fought wars over the feelings now burning intensely in his mind.

Though you were not some mere mortal. He had sensed it, as had Galadriel. But it was not his place to reveal the secret, only yours.

"So you wish to stay then?" you asked with a drunken smile.

"Like I said, I wish for a peaceful life—one away from the turmoil of war and death." He said with measured precision as if he had been practicing it for hours.

"So you would just stand idly by while your people are murdered?" His eyes narrowed at you before sitting up straighter against your gaze.

"It is not my place to intervene."

"But you are their king," You said a little too boldly for his liking. Sure, the illusion of his kingly hood was a mere construction of the she-elf's imagination. He was surprised that you even believed it.

"I am not, my lady," his voice lowered before taking a sip. He stared off into the distance until he felt the warm touch of your delicate hand against his bicep. The feeling sent an electric sensation down his arm as the darkness seemed to surface against your touch, covering his body in a dark encasing as your light seemed to glow even more.

"Then why can't you be?" You asked slowly with a raised brow.

"I've done evil," He breathed. "Things I care not to burden your delicate ears with." A warmth filled your face as he spoke the words.

"We've all done evil things, Lord Halbrand, things we are not proud of, things we hold onto in the deepest swells of our minds, locking them away in hopes we never see them again." This surprised him. Her statement had genuinely surprised him. What evil could a fair maiden like yourself have done for you to push it away from your mind?

Sure, when he touched your dreams, he found darkness—hollow darkness, regret, and hatred for yourself. This is what he latched onto when trying to manipulate you. But nothing had ever come of it. Not even an image presented itself.

What demon walked beneath your beautiful eyes that you would utter such a statement?

He craved to find out even more now. Milk it for everything it was worth, hoping it would sway you to his cause.

"I doubt the evil you have done compares." You snorted.

"You would be surprised, my lord," Your eyes grew distant momentarily as overwhelming sadness and regret filled your heart. The aura dropped even more, and he took that chance to wind another dark thread against your shimmering one, drawing even more of that darkness you carried to the surface.

"We must leave you," one of the other maidens said as they both stood and laid coins on the wooden table. "We need to rise early; do not stay out too late, " she said to you with a small smile before they both made their way back down the road towards the palace.

"I should probably be getting back as well," You tried standing but almost tripped over the bench in your drunken state. He grabbed you and tried steading you.

"I hardly think it is wise for you to walk back alone," He paused, a smile touching his lips as his dark green eyes met yours. "You never know what may follow you in the dark."

"I am perfectly capable of protecting myself," He chuckled and shook his head.

"Not in this state, little one," Your face warmed, and your core twisted as the words fell out of his lips. You liked it when that silvery tongue spoke words like that. It was intoxicating against your drunken mind and almost made you drop the innocent facade you clung so profoundly to.

"You would be surprised,"

The streets were familiar to you, and you knew how to get back in your drunken state, but you wished to talk to Halbrand for longer. So, instead of taking the usual route, you made a few other turns until you walked up towards one of the many courtyards surrounding the palace.

His grip on you was light as he steadied you, carefully taking each step as you ascended the marble stairs. "Can we take a moment? I wish to pick your brain a little more, Lord Halbrand,"

"Of course," he said as you motioned to one of the sitting areas. You took a seat and smoothed your hands over the fabric of your dress as he sat next to you. Your eyes looked up at the stars that were on display tonight. They seemed even brighter than usual. "What would you like to know?"

"Why do you shake under your responsibility?" You say, not taking your eyes off the heavens.

"My responsibility has always been to myself, no one else." You turn to him, touching his stubbled cheek, rubbing your thumb across the cool skin. Eyes locked as you pondered the following words to exit your mouth. He looked almost shocked by your touch.

"I doubt that," you breathed. "You have seen evil, done evil, and still your eyes tell me you wish for vengeance against those who have wronged you." He took your hand off his cheek and lowered it to your lap.

"You know nothing of what you speak of, my lady, just the workings of your drunken state." You moved to grip his wrist, and to his surprise, the darkness rose in you. It was not his, but yours. He watched as your eyes darkened and pulled him in.

"But I do," You breathed in the darkened night. "I know the pain you carry. The revenge you seek." You paused and moved to pick at the stitching in your gown. "It eats at me like some demon that craves flesh and blood to sate its sadistic tendencies."

Halbrand could not help but smile at the cruel irony of it all. You believed herself a demon when the very thing you spoke of was sitting right next to you, listening and praying on this darkness like some leech.

"When I was younger, I was a wild soul and seemed to always be drawn towards the sea like it called out to me. My mother was a Númenórean from a house unknown to anyone. I never bothered to ask." You shrugged but continued. "I never knew my father. Mama had said he was long gone before she whisked me away to Middle-Earth. We settled in a seaside village with other pilgrims, and life seemed picturesque."

You swallow hard against the next revelation. The next part you had never uttered to another soul, sworn to secrecy by your mother, and you had carried it for a few hundred years. "Then came the war; our village was ravaged by Morgoth's forces. In a desperate attempt to save my village and my mother, I pulled on my usage of the magicks that resided in me, flooding the village and wiping out every living soul there, including my mother." Tears formed on your cheeks as the screams filled your ears once more, drawing out the darkness you had pulled on at that moment to protect the people you cared for. "I later found her after the waters receded; she still clung to life. There, she told me of my father, a fair man with white shimmering hair and icy blue eyes whom she met while sailing the shores. They fell in love and had me; he told her he was a Valar and showed her things. Then he gave her this." You produced a necklace from underneath your gown.

The beautiful blue jewel sparkled in the light as Halbrand's eyes grew. The shimmer of protection gleamed against the stone, and now he understood the aura surrounding you, making it even more of a challenge.

This revelation only complicated things more. But he could not hold back his surprise in the slightest as he gazed upon the daughter of a fucking Valar. One as powerful as any witch or even Maia like himself. If he could turn you, there would be no stopping him or even you on your joined conquest of healing Middle-Earth.

You thumbed the jewel, trying to calm your nerves slightly before continuing. "He told her he would always protect her and me in our darkest moments. But he was not there even after we begged him to free us from Morgoth's forces. So I turned to the dark and brought havoc, smiting him and all the other Valar for standing idly by. I have never touched that part of myself since then."

Before you could continue, his pillowy lips met yours in soothing calmness. You melted into him and let your drunken thoughts run wild as his fingers traveled to grasp your chin. Those tears that once fell on your cheeks were now wiped clean by the fiery man engulfing you. Your fingers moved wind into his loose, brown waves as he fought your lips for dominance.

A whimper fell from your lips as he pulled away, leaving you breathless and even more dizzy than before. "Your secret is safe with me." He breathed against your lips.

Now he had an in.

And now the real work would begin.

#halbrand x reader #halbrand x you #sauron x reader #the rings of power #halbrand #sauron #rings of power fic

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gguk-n · 2 months ago

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Chapter 3- Behind The Helmet

Arranged For Love (Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Everything was moving to fast. They weren't sure they wanted this. Yes, they were closer now but not close enough to get married to each other, yet.

Y/N sat there on her bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for Carlos to call. This had become a regular occurrence now. Initially, they had started by only texting each other and then slowly progressed to a couple calls in a month. Now, Y/N's day wouldn't end without talking to Carlos. She felt empty not to talk to Carlos. Both their days began and ended with a text to the other. It was a nice constant in this turbulent times.

Carlos called, as soon as he was able to find a quite place. The pair could be heard giggling and laughing as they conversed. There were whispers going around the paddock; everyone was a busy body trying to find out what was going on with who but they were equally nosy. Lando was the first to notice; Carlos would constantly be smiling at his phone or talking to someone in his driver's room. When asked; he would brush Lando off saying that it was just a friend. Lando knew something was up so he took it upon himself to pester Carlos. He had began teasing him but Carlos wouldn't budge. "Come on mate, who's the lucky girl that has you giggling like this" Lando asked insistently. "Just a friend of my dad's" Carlos finally replied. "Didn't know you were into older woman" Lando smirked. "She's my dad's friend's daughter" Carlos palmed his face. "OOOO" Lando cooed wiggling his eye brows. "It's nothing like that" Carlos groaned. "Sure" Lando replied sarcastically, walking away.

Anika had noticed the soft smile that would play on her grand daughter's lips. She had only hoped that they would speed things along since her health hadn't been doing to well and she felt like she was holding on by a thin thread.

So, Anika did what she thought was best. She spoke to both Ivan and Carlos senior to start wedding preparations for the spring of next year. She could only hope to make it that far. The two men hadn't broached the subject, after that dinner they all had together, with their children. Ivan wasn't even sure if the two had kept in touch. So, he sent in his wife, Rose to gauge the situation.

From what Rose learnt after a mother-daughter bonding session was that they had kept in touch, much to their delight. But she wasn't sure how she would tell her daughter that her grandmother had picked a date for her wedding in the spring of next year.

It was at dinner when they broke the news to Y/N. "So, we were thinking" Ivan began looking at the family at the table, "you and Carlos can get married in February or March" he finished. "What?" Y/N almost spat her food out. "We aren't even that close? What do you mean by married?" she said trying not to choke on food. "I'm not getting any younger darling. I think March would be great but if you would like February I don't really mind" her grandmother said. "Obviously you don't mind. I'm the one getting married." she sighed. She left the table and went to her room. "It went better than I expected" Y/N's younger sister said. "Yeah, I was expecting a couple broken plates" her younger brother laughed. The 3 elders sighed and continued to eat their food.

Y/N had expected Carlos's reaction. What she didn't expect the pang in her chest when he went no contact for a couple days. She knew she needed the time to process everything but not having Carlos around felt like shit, she felt like she needed him. She wasn't sure in what way but she needed him.

Carlos couldn't believe what he had read. He knew the intention behind their introduction but he didn't expect her grandmother to decide something on her own or fix a date this early. Carlos had thought that they would be able to naturally get to know each other, even though the circumstances under which they met were not favourable, then they would eventually maybe remain friends or turn into something else in the long run. He had thought her grandma was just trying to play cupid. He didn't expect this, at all; and this had thrown him in for a loop.

As soon as he could, he spoke to his father about what Y/N had told him. It seemed that him and his mother were aware of it. They hadn't expected Carlos to ask them or find out before they decided to say anything. "Dad, I can't believe this." he said running a hand through his hair. "I mean, I thought, you guys would at least ask us, ask me. But it's like everything is already set in stone" Carlos junior spoke. "It was decided when we asked you to meet her. She is going to be you wife and that is final" senior replied sternly. "You've never forced me to do anything in life. Why are you being like this now?" junior asked. "She is a good girl, you'll never find anyone like her" senior defended. "You don't even know her" junior sighed. "If I don't remain married to her forever, or we have a shitty life, that's on you guys" junior stated and left.

Carlos's emotions were all over the place. It took him a few days to collect himself. He soon realised how bad it must've looked to Y/N when he suddenly stopped texting her. In his defence, he was shocked. He was sure, something similar must've happened with Y/N too. He did like her, he knew that for sure; did he like her enough to marry her with in half a year of knowing her, that was something he wasn't even sure about.

Carlos and Y/N spoke on call for a really long time and they finally came to the consensus that they didn't really want a huge wedding, maybe in the future if they felt like what they had was something real, something that would last. Right now, they didn't mind just making Y/N's grandmother happy. They did tell their parents that they didn't mind doing what they wanted but it to be a small affair. They didn't really want to tell too many people which their parents agreed. With the COVID restrictions only easing up slowly, the pair were happy they could get done with it in a small and intimate setting.

They only told a few very close friends and relatives. The wedding preparations had to start soon. Y/N's grandmother was a traditional woman and wanted the whole nine yards. Getting married was stressful as is, getting married to someone you met a couple months ago was anxiety inducing.

Taglist- @herexpertcollector @redrevvedup @chaostudee @larastark3107 @jovialpainterunknown @vip-access @sugarvibez @champomiel @inarabee @virazeeee @seonghwaexile @champ15ns @ajthefujoshi @musicheaux @npcmia @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @mochipatch @gleeblegnarp @formula1-motogpfan @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @dying-inside-but-its-classy @iamfreeeeeeeeeeeesblog @boiolay @pausmoon

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kadwrites · 1 year ago

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something old, something new | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; how long can you keep that secret?

warnings ; arranged marriage!trope, SLOW burn, soft!tommy , fem!reader, idk what im doing,

a/n ; i would love to know what you guys think of this part<3 thank you guys for all the support i really really appreciate it <33

"ya should've stabbed 'im when ya had the chance to." madeline mumbles, putting rose in the crib that was dragged next to the dining table

"what the hell has gotten into 'im?...." fiona looks at celest and celest shrugs , looking back at you

"god i feel like i'm going to explode" you take a gulp of the wine in your glass "i can't lie to tommy"

"then don't, just tell him" celest swirls the wine in her glass

"i 'ave a feeling tommy might just.." fiona runs her thumb across her neck, clicking her tongue

"i mean he's not that violent," you add , your finger moving across the rim of the glass "he's sweet...sometimes.... i think"

"is she ... drunk?" madeline grabs the wine bottle, pouring some in the glass in her hand

"i'm sure he doesn't just go around killing people" you look at the three women around you, "what do ya think jeremy wants to do?"

"i mean he said he wants ya back , didn't he?" celest sips her wine

"i mean yeah , technically i guess..."

"not technically" madeline is points at you "he said he wouldn't let ya marry tommy"

"it's just so odd" your hand rubs at the back of your neck "this is so out of the blue, we ended years ago. it's not like we were in contact too or anything"

"ya attract crazy men" fiona says with a raised brow

"i don't need this." you cover your face with your hand, before taking another gulp from your glass

"come on," celest gets up, taking the wine glass out of your hand "ya need sleep."

you have your arms raised on each side. , wearing a thin white robe. standing with your back straight and head held high, the seamstress starts measuring from the tip of your fingers to your shoulders.

"how is he treating ya?"

"hm?" you snap out of whatever trance you were in, eyes glancing in her direction

"thomas shelby, how is he treating ya?"

"yes , yes he is." you speak almost too quickly "why wouldn't he?" you try to not move,

she looks at you through her spectacles, raising a brow

you raise a brow too "i thought ya knew his family very well?"

"i do, that's why i'm asking" she says with a sigh , moving to the other side to get the measurements and your eyes follow her

the room is spacious, with every kind of fabric and thread you could possibly think of. it's quiet, the light shining in through the windows. the fabric and the design of your wedding dress on a paper on the table. a sketch of it, and it looked perfect.

"he's treating me well" you repeat

"do ya know about grace?"

your eyes drift away, you lick your lips nervously. you never had this conversation with anyone, it was a topic everyone tiptoed away from. except for her, apparently

"i know of 'er, yes."

"he loved that girl, he did." she nodded, rolling the measuring tape, getting your bust measurements.

"yeah, i've heard." you cleared your throat

"ya should've seen how he looked at 'er" she chuckled, "but , the way he looks at you ..." she looks at you again, before moving to make another measurement.

your head snaps this time, looking at her before she reprimands you to stay still "me?"

"mhm."

"i don't think so" you murmur then chuckle

"i wouldn't be so sure" she said with a knowing look , she rolls the measuring tape around your waist "i've known 'im since he was a boy."

"i mean, i'm sure ya do." you smile at her politely "but i do doubt that."

"ya can doubt it all ya like, it won't make it less true" she mumbles ,

a soft knock at the door catches your attention. she frowns, pulling her spectacles down and walking to the door, she opens it slightly

"morning mrs baker."

tommy's voice makes your eyes widen slightly, and your heart flutter.

"tommy." she says with a laugh "ya 'ave no business here, boy."

"my bride is here" he nods at you "so , i do actually 'ave business here"

she opens the door, letting him in. the smile and look on her face is stern, but maternal.

"the girl tells you're treating her well" she mumbles, going back to standing at your side

"she did?" he asks with a small smile before standing against a wall, his back pressed against it with his hands in his pockets, his gaze stuck on you.

she nods, putting her spectacles back on as she writes down the measurements on a piece of paper

"ya were trying to turn 'er on me, sylvia?" he speaks again

she shoots him a glare before looking back at you "ya see what you're marrying?"

you chuckle, tying the robe tighter around you. "yeah, i see it."

sylvia walks out of the room, to the front of the store for a customer that came in, leaving you and tommy in the back.

"why didn't ya bring your mother with ya?" he asks you, getting off the wall but not taking one step further.

"she can be...... overly enthusiastic at times. so i didn't tell 'er i was coming here" you say with a chuckle, turning to look at him

"that's smart" he hums , looking you over.

"she will lose 'er mind but i think it'll be worth it , i think."

he hums again, this time walking to stand in front of you.

"didn't ya 'ave a meeting today? i'm surprised ya even had the time to come here" you tilt your head as you speak

"want to get rid of me, do ya?"

"of course i don't."

"so ya want me around?" he leans closer, and you feel your breath stop. his voice is soft and low, his eyes glance at your lips before going back to your eyes

"i...." you stutter , your eyes scan his face "i do" you speak softly

"i do too."

"yeah?" you whisper back.

the air is so heavy, you feel his breath fan over your lips. your noses brush against each other.

"are ya scared of me?"

"no" you shake your head softly

he leans in closer and his lips press against yours, your eyes flutter shut and you feel as if time stopped moving, the floor under you disappeared.

after a few moments, he pulls back but not far back , his nose brushes against your cheek and his lips press against your ear

"what are ya hiding from me?"

taglist ; @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr , @justaproudslytherpuff , @budugu , @twlegit , @amberpanda99 , @aesthetic0cherryblossom , @capswife , @lets-turn-and-burn , @affabletimelady , @edencherries , @globetrotter28 , @eg-dr3amer3 , @sadroses98 , @fairytale07 , @hakudaru , @swordofawriter , @esposadomd , @blogforficslol ، @bearchermer , @n1c0t1n4 , @dreamy-caramel , @dragonsondragons , @charli123456789 ، @bunny24sstuff ، @butterfly-lover , @my-tin-can-mans , @powellssaturn , @vlryexsworld , @h0neylemon , @citris-runaway , @swinginmusicalfunnydragon , @babyspice6 , @oatmealisweird , @powellssaturn , @yuki254 , @ce1iat , @thelastemzy , @queenofshinigamis , @bai-wuxiangs-mask , @knmendiola ، @bethexo07

#kadwrites #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine

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rebelcracker-s · 2 months ago

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yapping about the welcome home 10/18 update because i am so incredibly normal

Hello neighbors! Not exactly my usual content, but since when was I consistent :P I have a lot of thoughts about the new Welcome Home update, so I thought I’d make a post discussing my thoughts n findings, and try to analyze them to make sense of Welcome Home.

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

First of all, right off the bat, on the first page of the storybook, you can see this:

All of these dots in white diamonds are meant to represent eyes, like the Looky-Loo branding alludes to. While they’re all mostly looking in different directions, we have these two who are looking right at the reader. I think these are meant to represent Wally’s eyes. Since we know from the hidden audios from the June ‘23 update that Wally can see through every drawing of his eyes, it looks like Wally is watching us or at least W through the storybook. It’s a tiny detail but so creepy nonetheless!

I want to focus on the end of W’s version of the storybook rather than the contents of the storybook, but I loved seeing a story centered around Sally and some depictions of Sally & Poppy’s dynamic! (Also Eddie calling Sally rude—THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING. Based eddie tho LOL) I also loved seeing the neighbors all being so eager to help Poppy, but oh my goodness, the way that they did it… YIKES. Poor Poppy…

It’s so interesting that we’re seeing the characters one by one realize that something is wrong with their neighborhood—first Sally in last year’s Halloween update, then Eddie in the Homewarming update, now Poppy.

It’s also interesting how Eddie and Poppy’s episodes(?) parallel each other. First of all, they very clearly focus on isolation from the rest of the neighborhood. Eddie loses all perception of the other neighbors, and the “single pea on a plate” represents his isolation from everyone else. Poppy is literally bricked off from the other neighbors, and she can’t hear them and vice versa until she screams and the door is opened.

The second interesting thing is that both of these episodes have Home involved. Eddie gets uncomfortable and immediately finds himself staring down Home even though he’s inside them. Poppy hears knocks, doors opening, and doorknobs turning—all of which are methods Home uses to communicate. I don’t know if Home is meant to be a metaphor for isolation or a genuine antagonistic force trying to corner the characters when they’re alone and at their weakest. Maybe both?

Still, I was considering that the character who scares Poppy at the end of the storybook audio could also be one and the same with the “monster” (in quotations because it’s unclear whether this is an actual monster) Sally talked about in last year’s Halloween update. That would create a common thread between the two Halloween updates. Still, I’m not sure what that monster is meant to represent and if it is supposed to mean Home or something related to them, like the weird portal underneath it…

Third, it’s very interesting how the two episodes end. Both Eddie and Poppy are brought out of the episodes by the intervention of the other neighbors. But it’s not just any neighbors—both times, it’s Sally and Frank. Sally is the neighbor who notices something is up with Eddie first; she brings him to the Homewarming party, then pulls Frank over to Eddie at the end of Eddie’s episode. When Poppy’s episode ends, we hear two neighbors asking about her. It’s not explicitly stated whose voices they are in the transcript, but it’s clearly Sally and Frank.

Sally and Frank are a really interesting pair; their canon interactions include them getting into a physical fight over song lyrics. But somehow, we’ve seen them twice breaking up these episodes. They don’t appear to be as close as Frank is with Eddie or as Sally is with Poppy, but it would be a very weird coincidence if this was an accident both times.

I strongly believe that Sally and Frank are both aware of what’s happening and trying to work together to either gain a bigger understanding of it, protect the other neighbors, etc. (I also have a theory that Howdy is in on it too, but I won’t focus on that right now.) This is why we see them coming to both Eddie and Poppy’s aid after their episodes.

Another thing!! Connections to other literature seem to be really important in the lore of Welcome Home, so it’s not a throwaway that the play Sally puts on is Tell-Tale Heart. I don’t know a lot about Tell-Tale Heart, but it appears to be about a character who kills a man and buries his still-beating heart under the floorboards, only to be driven mad by the sound. I’m pretty sure we’ve heard Home’s heartbeat before, so I wonder if Tell-Tale Heart is supposed to connect to them… I’ve seen people connect it to Cask of Amontillado, but I’ve never even heard of that so I’ll let other theorists tackle that for now.

On a final note, Wally saying that “everything is as it should be” as the last line of the storybook…completely creeps me out!!!

That’s all for now. I should probably update my other theory soon lol

#welcome home #welcome home theory #welcome home arg #welcome home speculation #wh speculation #wh theory #welcome home spoilers #wally darling #frank frankly #sally starlet #howdy pillar #julie joyful #barnaby b beagle #eddie dear #poppy partridge

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sometimesanalice · 3 months ago

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“well, i do feel a little better now that you’re here”

Bradley and SG please 👉🏼👈🏼 love your work Alexa ☺️☺️

Charlie, you gem! Thank you for always being so lovely and supportive! I hope you enjoy this one! 🥰

There You Are

Summary: It's the first time you're seeing Bradley in over 2 years. A lot of things have changed for you since the night he'd called you before that mission, but if there was one thing you knew you could count on, it was that he'd always be there for you.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 1.5K

It had been nine days of radio silence.

Nine days since Bradley had called you in the night before he left for whatever classified mission the Navy had ordered him back to Top Gun for.

Nine days of wondering and hoping for the best. Trying to convince yourself that no news was good news.

Nine days of not tasting any of the meals you'd forced down as you waited. Not that you had much of an appetite anyways.

Nine days of tossing and turning in the bed you slept alone in, as you worked on untangling your life from your now ex boyfriend. The two of you agreeing to share the apartment like roommates until you found out about the promotion you were up for.

The one that might take you to San Diego. To the sunshine and ocean. To new opportunities. To your best friend.

You had pretty much dropped everything the moment you saw Bradley's name flash across the screen of your phone. The relief that washed over you at the sound of his voice- at his Hey, kid- nearly sent you to the floor.

While it had been another few days before you were able to get on a plane- he'd told you there were still some debriefs and paperwork that still needed to be done before him and his team could take leave- but you'd started packing your suitcase the moment the call ended.

You were antsy the entire six hour flight from Boston. You'd apologized more than once for nudging your neighbor's arm as you shifted and squirmed in your uncomfortable seat.

Hearing that final ding of the seatbelt off sign was music to your ears.

You'd called him the moment you stepped off the plane and Bradley picked up on the first ring.

"This feels familiar, doesn't it?" he rasps over the phone. You know he's thinking about the Spring Break you'd went to visit him at UVA. He'd picked you up at the airport then, just like he was doing now. "When is it my turn to be picked up at the airport, kid?"

Of course they'd dropped you off at the furthest gate in Terminal 1. You let out a huff and then set about threading your way through the throng of people standing between you and your best friend.

"Please, when's the last time you flew commercial?" you tease. "And it's not all of us can just waltz onto a Naval Base anytime we want."

"Hey, no one's stopping you from joining up. I'll even write you a letter of recommendation."

You weave around a stroller.

"Hmm, pass. But thank you for the generous offer."

And then past a couple holding hands.

He chuckles. "Guess that means I get to keep my title as designated chauffeur, huh?"

"Lucky you," you sing.

If you weren't on a mission, you'd consider stopping at the coffee shop that you're briskly gliding past for a quick cappuccino. But you had other priorities.

"Such a smart ass." You can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

You speed up your steps, the glimmer of the exit now in sight. "Why don't you say that to my face, Bradshaw."

"I'm trying to, but you're taking forever," he grouses, famously the more impatient one of the two of you. "I'm to the left of Arrivals gate, by the way."

You smile to yourself. Knowing him, he has probably been there for at least an hour keeping tabs on you with some flight tracker app he'd downloaded on his phone.

"It's a good thing you told me, I'm not sure if I'd recognize you with that bold fashion statement you're sporting on your face now."

Bradley scoffs indignantly. "You haven't even been here thirty minutes and you're already dunking on the 'stache, kid? It looks better in person, give it a chance."

You pull over just to the right of the Terminal exit, tucked next to a potted ficus, taking a moment to scan through the crowd of people waiting for their own travelers. He's not hard for you to find, standing head and shoulders above everyone else in the area.

Whole and healthy and here in front of you.

It's been a little over two years since you've last seen Bradley in person, he'd been stationed in Japan before his return to Top Gun. It was still hard to believe that the lanky boy you'd grown up with had become the well-built man standing across the way from you.

During his time in the Navy, he'd truly come into himself. The easy confidence in his posture was well earned and looked good on him. But you had to stop yourself from laughing and giving yourself away when you see him impatiently tapping his toes. Because no matter how much some things change, there are some things that will always be the same.

"I don't know about that," you muse, still taking him in because there was a moment there when you weren't sure you'd ever get to see him again. "I can see it from here and I'm still on the fence about it."

You see him look around, confused for a moment, head swiveling trying to spot you. You don't keep him waiting long, stepping out from your hiding spot and into view.

You mouth hi and give him a little wave.

"Hey, there you are." There's no missing the wide grin on his face. "You going to stand all the way over there or are you going to come see the mustache up close and personal?"

You laugh and shake your head making your way to him. "I guess I might as well considering I did fly all the way across the country to see it."

"And me, I hope."

"And you," you confirm.

You end the call, tucking your phone into your bag as you close the gap between him and you.

Those whiskey brown eyes are one you've known your whole life. His curls looked like they've seen some sun, as did the rest of him. And the soft smile he had directed at you looked like contentment.

What stops you in your tracks are the fresh cuts that mark his face, new scars to be mixed in with the ones you already knew so well. They're shade of bright pink that's impossible to miss.

"Oh my god, Bradley."

He doesn't say a word as you gently take his face in your hands, tilting his head this way and that, inspecting him for yourself. He just gazes at you, reading every emotion as they run across your face, as you try to hunt for any clues to an answer about what happened that you know you'll never get.

"I'm fine, I promise," he murmurs.

"It doesn't look fine," you press.

He grasps you wrists with his warm hands and coaxes yours down between the two of you.

Too close. Whatever it was was too damn close. The evidence is right there on his neck and behind his ear, and you hate it.

Bradley squeezes your hands reassuringly. "I'll have you know passed the concussion protocol with flying colors." He tries to play it off as a joke, but the dark circles under his eyes and the weariness you see around the corners of his eyes tells a different story.

"Does it still hurt?" you ask, trying not to let your voice wobble.

"Well, I do feel a little better now that you’re here.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. "You're so-"

Ridiculous. Frustrating. Important to me.

You don't get to finish you sentence because Bradley is tugging you into his broad chest. The arms that wrap around you are fuller now, but his hug is as just a familiar as it's always been.

Yours thread themselves around his waist instinctively, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

He holds you close, holds you tight. Bradley's always been the type to really hold on tight because he knows what it's like to have to let things go.

People come and go. There's the sound of departure and arrival announcements on the speakers overhead. Some people are saying their goodbyes, and some- like the two of you- are saying hello.

All of it happens around you and Bradley. As you hold him and he holds you. Both of you all too aware that this moment hadn't been a given.

"Thank you for not standing me up," you whisper, throat thick.

"I wouldn’t dream of it, kid," he says, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, and gives it a little wiggle.

You blow out a breath, not wanting a raincloud of what-ifs to damper your golden afternoon.

"Hi," you say again.

"I'm happy to see you," he replies, earnestly. You just nod your head because the feeling is so, so mutual. "You just gained three hours, you up for a little adventuring?"

"I’m all yours, Bradshaw."

It didn't matter to you what you did for the four days you were in town, just that you got to spend it with him.

"Good." He drapes a heavy arm over shoulder and reaches for your suitcase. "Because I'm pretty sure I owe you a milkshake."

You let him steer you towards the exit, to where you assume the short term parking garage is located, and ask, "Can I drive the Bronco?"

Bradley pauses. "We'll see."

You grin because it's not a no.

The California sun hits you in full force as you step out the automatic doors. You reach up and tug out the sunglasses that had been haphazardly tucked into the pocket of his silly Hawaiian shirt- that you were definitely going to tease him about later- and slip them on your face.

Bradley smiles over at you.

"I think California is going to suit you, kid."

And for the first time, here with him, you think it might too.

#it's a prompt party 🪩#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley and sweet girl

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limelocked · 1 year ago

Text

It feels like @staff and @humans have really lost the thread on what tumblr actually is, because tumblr is theoretically not a social media site

Back in ye olden days having your own personal blog with like blogspot was all the rage, it was clunky to find other blogs since they were entire other websites AND THATS WHAT TUMBLR IS

Tumblr is a hub that lets you look at all the new content from your blogs in one place, that’s why it’s so different fundamentally from what I’ll call the MySpace model of social media, that’s why I think redditors as forum users fit into the ecosystem so much faster than twitter people, because Reddit is tumblr but for forums instead of blogs

Trying to make tumblr look and or function like twitter, a fundamentally different product, will just end up making people leave en masse like we did in late 2018 to find greener pastures, and especially pastures that don’t roll out updates in vague corporate speak and with no specific prior notice (because staffs recent post was worded towards shareholders and not Us)

#tumblr #ramble #staff #i read the post again and they really said we’re gonna change some things but not tell you specifically what or when #give us a dev log please #also look at crab day and understand that as long as you please us we will overlook your flaws and literally give you money

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murfpersonalblog · 19 days ago

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IWTV Musings: Racism & Intersectionality, in Hollywood and in Fandom Spaces (Pt1: The Raceswaps)

This is in response/support of @adamnablelittledevil's post on this very subject:

"Hopefully people would finally understand nobody is making it up or exaggerating and it is indeed real and worse than they probably think."

Folk try to act like certain problems don't exist, especially when it concerns Black & Bipoc people in predominately white spaces with a KNOWN history of racism. People love to gaslight & be dismissive & rewrite history with revisionist narratives--especially to impressionable people & fans who are NEW to certain fandom spaces or racial dynamics/demographics, and DON'T know the history of the spaces they're entering, or the convos taking place--which is PRECISELY how we wound up with non-Black IWTV fans who ended up in the actual NEWS for prancing around an IRL plantation in 2024, acting like they never heard of slavery, ffs.

At some point, the venn diagram of accidental/willful ignorance, careless/irresponsible tone deafness, and active/passive-aggressive racism actually does intersect.

Incidents like this reflect a fandom steeped in problematic behavior that's too-long gone unchecked by the fans & network alike--who are also at fault for constantly mishandling its own project.

Contrary to poorly researched articles like USA today that denied/handwaved racist backlash against IWTV (a MUCH smaller & younger fandom compared to the LOTR & Amazon's Rings of Power adaptation), from its very inception, as early as the cast announcements, TVC's white fans were PISSED about the raceswaps & outright accused AMC of being woke/DEI (a la Bridgerton) when Jacob Anderson was cast as Louis DPDL.

A Quora thread from 2021:

A Reddit thread from July 2022: (Wayback Machine)

A Reddit thread from 2022 (circa Ep5): (Wayback Machine)

And boy oh boy did this one on Facebook in 2021 age poorly: 💀

Book fans constantly treat AMC's IWTV like performative colorblind trash, rather than as color-conscious prestige tv show that treats historical racism, colorism, classism, sexism, & homophobia seriously. They DGAF what showrunner Rolin Jones had to say about perpetuating the glorification of slaveowners, and just want a 1:1 adaptation of the books, when that was NEVER Rolin's intention.

There's fans who to this day refuse to see/accept Delainey!Claudia, and apparently there's colorist trends on Twitter (cuz ofc 🙄😒) about seeing her as Armand's daughter instead of Lestat's, just cuz of her skin color, which WTF??? (x x x):

Book/film fans hypocritically complain constantly about Bailey Bass (18-19) AND Delainey Hayles (25) playing 14y/o Claudia; but then gush about Vampire Diaries & Twilight & other shows on MTV & CW--who have all casted full grown adults as teenagers. Critiques like this are interesting (x x):

Cuz they specifically mention the Romanian kids and how Claudia supposedly "cannot at all pass for a child." However:

Some of those actual children ain't exactly tiny little toddlers & tykes either! 😅 Cuz age is a spectrum, not a monolith, imagine that.

And laaaawd don't get me started on Armand, and the BS that was happening on Reddit a few years ago (x x):

THIS is the kind of fandom we've been dealing with since DAY ONE.

And yet white fans have the nerve to whine about how tired and pissed they are whenever Bipoc fans call out the racism in the fandom/network, or god forbid look too-deep in the actual racially sensitive/relevant context of the show itself.

But I'll save my thoughts on all that for another post.

#interview with the vampire #amc immortal universe #racial inequality #racism #louis de pointe du lac #justice for claudia #read a dang history book #meritocracy of hypocrisy #america #amerikkka #louis de pointe du black

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pix-writes · 2 months ago

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for requests. . . how about an x reader where reader pegs Ford 👀? Is he open to the idea?

Oh I think we can arrange such a thing! >:) Hope you enjoy!

Ford x F!Reader | In Theory and in Practice

Notes/tags: Ford and reader have some limited past experiences, but tried to keep it a little vague. That said though, I do allude to them to be both bi/had experiences with someone of the same sex as them. Anal smut, some Dom/sub dynamics and switching.

NSFW 18+ below cut, so MDNI!

The subject comes up from you, the conversations you get into around pleasure with Ford often end up in the logical sphere, starting lightly before anything more heated can arise. It was something to enjoy about your partnership, comforting in the pragmatic and somewhat direct, open way in which Ford spoke about such things. It reduced both of your anxieties and any reservations that you had about bringing up anything that you wanted.

Your partner still got flustered, however, and you were a little tentative in how you brought up this next subject.

"I never got to try it in any of my other relationships with men, some seem to think it's not important to involve the prostate in sex."

"The prostate when stimulated gives men pleasure, so I see no reason why it should not be, um, paid attention to. I certainly haven't had any reservations when I have been on my own, in the past."

"And with others?"

Ford did blush a little at this. "In relationships with other men, yes. And with you."

"Yes, but technically it was you who was doing it, Ford." You paused to take a breath before asking your next question. "What if I did?"

Your partner looked stunned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I'd never thought about it before?"

You ask him if he ever heard of pegging, he hadn't and you did your best to lay out what it meant, slowly, despite your eagerness at Ford's receptiveness, so far.

"But how would you...?" Was one of his questions and you couldn't help but giggle. You knew he didn't like to be on the backfoot or feel that you were laughing at his expense, but how could you not help but be amused by his perplexed expression, his innocence when it came to the gaps in his knowledge?

"Oh Ford, have I not told you yet about the wonders of silicone?!"

Ford didn't take long to mull over the decision on whether he would like to explore it, in fact, you knew him to be as eager as you were, despite never knowing about pegging before bringing it up, though none of this should have surprised you, you thought, looking back on it. Ford wasn't a stereotypical man and did not have many qualms when it came to experiencing new things. All the more reason you were excited! Though you knew that he was going to take his time with researching it, but you could wait.

As the days passed he added his small questions about what you had planned, one here, one there. He would hum and nod and maybe ask for more clarification or an adjustment. In fact, he inisted that you practice putting the strap on you ordered, once it came.

"Can I see it?"

"I think the straps are too tight, how do I-?" You were glancing around for the instructions, to see Ford already had them to hand.

"Here, like this." He gently tugs on the threads and it loosens, relieving the indents that were already appearing over your skin.

Self consciousness ate at you, unable to hide that you felt so clueless you let out a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry! This is... it just feels silly!"

"It is a little bizarre!" Ford joins in with your laughter. "But preparation makes all the difference, my dear."

Once it came to the moment, however, Ford had forgotten what a disparity there was between theory and practice! It had been so long since he had ever been in this position (metaphorically, rather than physically in the same position... but, you get the idea!) and he was starting to remember how vulnerable it can feel...

You've been working him open steadily, using plenty of lube that you kept beside you, Ford encouraging you and helping direct your movements to what he found most pleasurable, voice strained already.

He could feel that pressure and heat from how you slide in, one of your hands coming to soothingly rub at his back, reminding him to relax into it, to adjust. When he gives you encouragement to move, he can feel your form pressing into his. Your hold on him was so gentle, the tenderness made him feel like he was adrift.

He cried out as you set a firmer pace and you stilled for a moment.

"Ford?"

He groaned. "Keep... keep going, baby."

Ford reaches round to find your hand and you let him intertwine your fingers together, placing your hand further forward so the hold would be comfortable.

"You're doing so well. You know that?" You placed kisses over his shoulder before resuming your steady pace. " So good for me, Ford."

The toy that you had gotten was one that had an end that sat just inside your entrance, the pressure of it working you up. Arousal pooling in your belly as you thrust your hips into him.

He looked so beautiful underneath you, his back arched. God, he was a sight to behold. And so you told him, words spoken as you caught your breath. Knowing the words were affecting him from experience if not from the way his breathing changed, those little noises he made that you so desperately wanted to hear, the ones that went straight to your core.

You were taking your time though and Ford began to rock back into your touch, impatient.

Ford whined your name, turning his head, pupils blown wide. "Don't hold back."

It was somewhat rare that he ever got into an impatient mood, the man was unflappable most of the time. A wicked smile started to spread across your face as you tapped at his side, getting to move upwards, into more of a sitting position before grabbing a fistful of his hair, pulling him back into your chest, an arm coming to rest across his broad chest as he squirmed.

"What was that, hm?"

"Ah, please! Please, I want you to touch me, please."

"So polite." You said teasingly.

Adjusting your grip on his hair your pace became firmer, hand roaming down his chest to touch his achingly hard cock.

"That's it." Ford's moans were rising into a delicious background orchestra and you prided yourself on the knowledge that you had worked him up so much.

"W-wait! I want to see you when I- want to touch you, please?" His voice wavered, unsure of his own wants when he was so close to the edge.

"This is about you, Ford." You considered for a moment. "But you can turn around, if you wish."

It was a more awkward shuffle compared to the last, but the break in the tension didn't last long; the heat rising to your face as you saw how wrecked Ford looked, hair stuck up at different angles. Legs rising to wrap around you, the muscles there flexing against your hips. You wondered what you must've looked like to him in such a position, when the roles were reversed. Was this why he liked it?

Ford was practically melting into the mattress by the time your hands were on him again. That first rate brain of his switching off thoughts and transferring to focus on pleasure. He pulled you in so that he could kiss you, in between your praises and moans.

"So good for me, darling."

"Such a good boy."

"Fuck, cum for me!"

Eyes focused on your angelic face above him, he came. His release coating his stomach, and your hand, still firm on his cock as he rode his orgasm out with a shuddering moan.

Pulling out, you collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, letting Ford take over. First wiping you both down, then releasing you from the strap, soon replacing the end of the toy with his fingers, his mouth grazing your breast hungrily as he laid beside you.

He cursed under his breath. "Oh, sweetheart, you're soaked."

Hot kisses trailed across your skin. "You don't have to. T-this, mmn, was about you."

He tutted, a glint entering his eyes. "But I thought I was your good boy. Don't you want me to make you cum? You've gotten so wet for me."

You whimpered, answering with a nod as you carded hand through his hair, gently, this time.

#stanford pines x reader #stanford pines x you #ford pines x reader #ford pines x you #ford pines smut #gravity falls fanfiction #celebration request #pix replies

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