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elysianightsss · 10 months ago

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Limerence | Three

C H A P T E R T H R E E

limerence / lim-ê-rêns / (noun)

“Obsessive romantic attraction towards another person”

Summary: In which the owners of Jujutsu Incorporated, the Ôgami brothers, are suddenly interested in you.

Pairing: Alpha!Sukuna x reader, Alpha!Itadori x reader, Alpha!Gojo x reader, Alpha!Geto x reader, Alpha!Nanami x reader, Alpha!Kenjaku x reader

Status: Ongoing.

Genre: werewolf au, soulmate, polyamory relationship, angst, fluff, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics.

Warnings: smut, violence, mentions of knotting, heats, ruts, insecurities, some descriptions of reader’s body, mention of possible ED, omegaspace, domdrop, swearing, blood, depression, suicidal thoughts, possessiveness, obsessive thoughts, Alpha tendencies.

Chapter Warnings: Omega’s being abused and killed, swearing, scent description, size difference - I’m not sorry Kenjaku is the biggest Alpha here and I’m not willing to argue about it, dark themes, Kenjaku kills someone but what else is new, self deprecation, anxiety attack, pup - yes that’s a warning.

Masterlist | Chapter two | Chapter four

Taglist: @better-imagination-9 @tiredjuniper @jjkz @honeybeeboobaa @cherryblossomdelusion @dependsonthedream @alluresenses @qardasngan @imcamboaf @ondragonhonour @misscaller06

Taglist is open.

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Previously on Limerence:

“I can’t do this!” You screeched hands gripping at your hair in frustration, “why would I of all people be gifted six alphas?!” You cried desperately wanting to know the answer. Gifted. He guesses that’s a good sign, at least you thought of a mate as a gift rather than a curse.

You blink up at both men and realise, your living room has never looked so small, they take up so much space. With just two of them the place is tiny, how’s it going to look with six of them? Your mind bounces around, worry still present and spinning you into a tizzy, yet you practically preen when Kenjaku’s eyes travel over you like he can see underneath your clothes. It makes a tense feeling in the pit of your stomach start to form, a feeling you’re not familiar with.

You suddenly wanted to be wrapped in their strong arms, you note that they both look like the warriors the news makes them out to be. Huge, brawny and very attractive. How were they yours? How were you worthy of this? And how were they going to ever love you when they find out what you did?

The world had changed a lot since 2013, the year werewolfs came into existence. Before they were just made up, thought to only exist in really bad movies paired with an emotionless vampire, that or Reddit forums.

Mass panic ensued with the werewolf epidemic but the world did what it had to and adapted. Around nine months later, Alphas began presenting. And the whole world literally went to shit. Going from humans to werewolves was one thing, everyone’s DNA literally changing yet people adapted. The world was still in the early stages of adaptation when suddenly men’s personalities, needs, desires, the way they think, eat, sleep. All of it, changed by becoming Alphas.

Their instincts were out of control. Being confused and unable to understand what was happening to them. However, trying their best, they continued to live their lives as usual. And as if it was a series of cruel tricks, the last trick was played on mankind, omegas began presenting. Once again things changed.

It had the Alphas going crazy. Omegas were pushed into heats the longer they spent around undated Alphas in an attempt to push out their pheromones so their mates could find them. This only made things worse. Dazed and delusional Omegas coming onto Alphas were beaten black and blue, some were killed. The Alpha’s inner wolves becoming angered by an Omega who wasn’t their mate trying to breed with them, this was left unchecked for far too long until Kento created Jujutsu Incorporated in 2017.

Kento remembers the exact moment he decided he was going to do something about the destruction that had befallen the world. The news was playing on the television, he and his brothers watching intensely as the news anchor reported that in the last week twenty seven Omegas had been abused and fourteen had been killed by unhinged Alphas. Kento ignored the jagged inhale from one of the pink haired men on the other sofa watching too, instead he got up and headed straight to his study. The idea had come to him and he had to write it down, he had to plan.

The company’s main purpose was to train Alphas to hone their werewolf instincts and abilities. For man to create a peaceful bond with beast in order to control them so the abuse of Omegas would be stopped. At first it was only worried parents sending their newly presented aggressive sons to the training compound thinking it was some sort of correctional facility and in a way it was.

Soon grown men decided signing up, then men who had committed crimes against Omegas were court sanctioned to go. Before long it became mandatory for every male who was of age to be sent there and trained. Now every year when Alphas present they are instantly signed up to be sent to Jujutsu Incorporated.

Seven years, fifty two awards, millions given by governments all over the world and some failed attempts from other companies to try and recreate what they made, later, Jujutsu Incorporated saved the world and they are thanked everyday for it.

While Sukuna and Kenjaku tried to calm you down and reason with you to meet the rest of the pack. Kento, Yuji, Suguru and Satoru were slowly, but surely, loosing it. The longer they were away from their mate after the bond snapped into place, the more aggressive they became. Their body temperatures rising, all their sweet scents turning sour as the stress increased.

Since Kento caught a whiff of your sweet vanilla-cinnamon scent on Sukuna’s clothes, he couldn’t get the sweet smell out of his head. He’d give anything to bury his face in it. It would be so much better than the awful smells surrounding him at this very moment. Baring in mind that on a good day Kento’s scent was usually the sweetest chocolate fudge cake, but with the growing need to have his mate with him not being sated, it had spiked to a burnt over cooked type smell. Yuji’s went from honeyed strawberry milk to wet dog. Suguru’s went from a delightful caramel coffee to rotten food. Satoru’s went from freshly baked cookies to sewers on a hot day.

The office reeked.

Kento felt the tension in the room, worry crawling up his throat as he had the realisation he might have to scruff one or two of his pack mates if they don’t calm down soon. There are several ways that pack alphas can control their packmates, with pheromones is one of them, but scruffing is easily the most effective. Scruffing is distinctly pack alpha behavior. The inherent dominance in one alphas pheromones over another is essential for a pack alpha.

He remembers growing up he was never really the leader type, instead he was rather shy and withdrawn. He didn’t have many friends nor did he wish to make any, much preferring to be alone with a good book. Kento became even more withdrawn when his father died of a heart attack. It was a shock to the system and instead of the brothers banding together to help one another grieve they all mourned alone.

When Kento made the change into a werewolf he loved it, becoming a werewolf only amplified who he already was yet somehow when he discovered his role as packleader he stepped into it like he was born to lead. Kento figured out his role in the pack when Yuji and Satoru were scrapping each other and it got a bit too violent. Without meaning to he used his Alpha tone on the boys and they instantly stopped to obey him. It was strange, the brothers tried to use their own Alpha tones on each other though the experiment had no results. Only Kento could do it.

Another reason Kento loved being a werewolf was that it brought his broken family back together as one. As a pack. They lived together, ate together, trained together, shifted together and ran together as one. It gave him a profound sense of love and happiness that he was able to have his brothers back in his life, though there was always something missing. You.

Kento had to pacify his desire to run out of the room straight to you. He was sick of waiting. His wolf just wanted to bring you to their house and give you everything you could ever want. You would never need to leave the nest he would lovingly watch you build. You would be provided for, protected, and sated, all while you’d have prettiest smile on your face. His wolf chirped happily simply thinking about being in your presence and caring for you. He was eager for you to be here with him.

And as if by magic, the office doors opened Sukuna strolling inside with a shit eating grin on his face, Kenjaku not far behind with the cutest little omega clinging onto the sleeve of his arm. You were here.

It wasn’t the sweet the way you were basically hiding behind his brother that disarmed him, it wasn’t even the way your pretty wide eyes stared up at him with a spec of fear shining in them. But smelling you in person, fuck, breathing in your invigorating scent the way he needed to, letting it swirl around him and leave him feeling hazy and high, all his thoughts disappearing. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

You do have to admit it was a rash decision to come here and meet the rest of the pack, it took a lot of convincing and encouragement by Sukuna and Kenjaku before you hesitantly said yes. And it was very hesitantly. The whole car ride there was silent, Kenjaku sitting in the back with you as Sukuna drove to Jujutsu Incorporated Headquarters. Subconsciously your omega was drifting towards the stoic black haired Alpha. Your Omega knowing that Kenjaku’s wolf was the scariest one out of the two just meant he was the best to protect you. His dominant aura was something you definitely didn’t want to mess with. So when you arrived and you were unsure wether you wanted to get out the car or not, all he had to do was offer his hand and send you a look and you were scrambling out of the car quickly grabbing onto him. He looked down at you letting out a grunt of disapproval when you let go of his large hand but seemed satisfied when you gripped onto the sleeve of his black leather jacket instead. You found yourself looking up at the big Alpha for his approval before you could stop yourself, even when you shook your head at yourself and looked away it was too late. Kenjaku had already grunted out a good pup that made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The praise had you holding onto his jacket the whole walk to the elevator, the whole elevator ride and all the way into the office where you now stood trying to use Kenjaku’s big muscular body to hide from the four new pairs of eyes trying to catch a glimpse of you.

The fact that you, such a fragile small thing compared to him, was using him as a shield instead of running scared from him was baffling. Kenjaku was never a very nice guy, even as a child he was dubbed as the emo kid who you should never approach. Always getting into fights at school and that was before his father died, Kenjaku only go worse when he did.

And when Kenjaku became a werewolf he was even more violent than before, his vicious tendencies heightened along with his senses. He remembers all the bar fights, forest fights, street fights he go into finding a thrill within the rage. The night more vivid than all the fights though, was the night he killed another Alpha. And liked it.

It had been an accident, the man had started a fight with him and he was clearly drunk. Sober Kenjaku had only tried to defend himself but after pushing the drunken werewolf away he kept going, it snapped something in Kenjaku and he saw red. He beat the man to death and his wolf glowed with pride, the primal instinct to be the top Alpha male coming to light. He didn’t want to like it, but he did. That night he had buried the man in the forest with his bare hand, hours later he returned home caked in dirt, blood and sweat. He confessed to his brothers what he had done.

From then on he trained with Sukuna who taught him control over his wolf and his aggressive side, spending years dedicated to learning to control himself, still Kenjaku is easily the scariest and strongest Alpha in the pack. That’s why he was made The Ghost, The Shadow, The man behind the scenes who takes care of troubled Alphas. Also taking care of any crimes or accusations against the company.

The Killer Alpha. And you were choosing him to cling to, to protect you, this had his chest puffing out with pride. The little Omega and the big bad Alpha.

You were completely stuck to Kenjaku’s side as you started to let your anxiety turn your mind against you. These men were your mates? They all wanted you? Impossible. You couldn’t do this. Fuck sake, you had taken a big step coming here and you were just back to where you had started an hour ago. A numb feeling taking over you, your brain’s way of saving you from the stress of this situation.

The big man you were clinging to was towering over you with worried eyes as your short panicked breaths filled the room. “Princess?”

“Is she okay?”

“Are you okay?”

“Bunny you good?”

You were clearly having a moment of panic, not answering any of them. Their questions making you more antsy by the second. Everything felt like it was upside down at this very moment in time. Like the world was spinning.

Your other hand came up to grip onto Kenjaku’s jacket, desperately trying to use it to ground yourself. “Fuck I-“ you shivered, stumbling over your words as your couldn’t breathe properly.

“What is it pup? Hmm, what do you need princess?” Kenjaku remembered your reaction to the pet name from earlier instantly stepping into roll as the Alpha you needed surprising his brothers though they all knew with you around now, they’d be displaying sides of themselves they’ve never seen of each other before.

“I-I can’t,” you shook your head falling to your knees, Kenjaku fell with you holding you up, “I. I c-can’t, I can’t, I can’t do this.” You hiccuped at the end of your broken sentence, your fingers gripping so tightly onto the Alpha while your whole body shook.

“I know.” His words had your head shooting up, tear filled eyes meeting his, “but I’m going help you. If this is too much, then we will only do what you’re comfortable with. We just want to make you happy pup.” His body made him say the words, and he was glad it did. You were nodding as you listened, eyes focusing on every detail on his face while he spoke, his brown almond shaped eyes, sloped nose, the light freckles under his eyes, his plump lips.

“I don’t know how.” There was a hidden meaning behind it and all six alphas desperately wanted to know but they knew now was not the time. They could wait. Right now they had to focus on calming you down, getting you to relax.

Kenjaku felt his heart ache at the sight of your wobbly bottom lip all jutted out, you tear filled eyes and red face. You were so precious. Then and there he swore to protect you at all costs, even if he had to sell his soul, as long as you were safe. That’s all that mattered to him. “It’s okay pup, I’ll show you how.”

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digitalgirlguide · 9 months ago

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Beyond Bubble Baths: A Realistic Guide to Wellness, Hygiene Hacks, Energy Cleansing, and the Art of Setting Healthy Boundaries

self-care as we know it has been reduced to retail therapy and splurging on skincare and the the essence of true well-being often gets lost in the noise of buying stuff.

you're not alone, i'm guilty of this too.if i'm sad i buy thing. i'm happy? i buy things.

and not saying that self care can't be buying yourself things because you feel like it but that's not a true reflection of self care.

self-care is a disciplined commitment to becoming the best version of yourself while tuning into your body's needs.

so what does realistic self care look like?

Take a few minutes each morning to set intentions for the day ahead.

practice gratitude by writing 3 things you're grateful for or using some of these prompts:

What are three things you are thankful for as you start your day? Consider the small details that often go unnoticed.

Recall a specific moment from today that brought a smile to your face or warmed your heart. Describe it in detail and express gratitude for that experience.

Think about any unexpected surprises or acts of kindness that came your way. How did they make you feel, and why are you grateful for them?

Before your next meal, reflect on the journey of your food from its source to your plate. Express gratitude for the nourishment it provides your body.

Organizing your day/week:

Plan with Purpose: Start your week with a glance at your calendar or planner. Note any upcoming deadlines, appointments, or social events. (A little prep goes a long way!)

Prioritize with Intent: Identify your top priorities for the week and break them down into manageable tasks. Tackling the most crucial items first ensures a sense of accomplishment. (Check off those big to-dos, and watch the momentum build!)

Time Blocking: Allocate specific time blocks for various activities. This technique helps maintain focus and prevents the day from slipping away in a blur. (Time blocking = your new productivity bestie.)

Flexibility is Key: While planning is essential, leave room for flexibility. Life throws curveballs, and being adaptable ensures you can navigate unexpected changes with grace. (Embrace the spontaneity – it's the spice of life!)

Self-Care Slots: Intentionally carve out moments for self-care throughout the week. Whether it's a short walk, a cozy reading break, or a meditation session, these are non-negotiable appointments with yourself. (Because self-love is a crucial part of productivity.)

Schedule regular social activities to stay connected: Meaningful connections are the backbone of a healthy support system. (Humans need socialization – it's science!)

Hygiene tips for mind and body

Begin your day with a cleansing ritual that extends beyond the physical. Consider practices like meditation (Remember, a cluttered mind can be just as burdensome as a cluttered space.)

Incorporate energy cleansing techniques into your routine, such as using crystals (clear quartz, black tourmaline, amethyst, rose quartz, selenite) to clear negative energy from your surroundings. (Just as we dust and declutter our physical spaces, it's important to cleanse the energetic residue that accumulates throughout our day-to-day lives.)

Recognize the importance of setting boundaries and restricting access to yourself when necessary. (You're not obligated to be constantly available to others, and it's okay to prioritize your own needs and well-being.) Surround yourself with people who uplift and inspire you, who make you feel good and encourage you to be your best self. (Life is too short to waste time on relationships that drain your energy and diminish your spirit.)

Embrace a straightforward yet consistent skincare routine. Cleanse, moisturize, and shield your skin from the sun – simplicity meets effectiveness.

Practice regular handwashing to ward off germs, especially before meals and after restroom visits. (Your hands will thank you, and so will your immune system.)

Simple ways to show up for yourself everyday

Practice self-compassion and forgiveness, recognizing that perfection is an illusion and mistakes are opportunities for growth. (We're all human, and it's okay to stumble along the way.)

Listen to your body's signals and honor its needs, whether that means nourishing yourself with wholesome food, getting regular exercise, or allowing yourself time to rest and recharge. (Your body is your greatest ally and deserves to be treated with kindness and respect.)

Embrace moments of joy and playfulness, indulging in activities that bring you laughter and delight. (Life is meant to be savored, not endured.)

let's reshape the narrative of self-care into a journey of discipline, mindfulness, and attunement to our inner voices.

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frenshushutoast · 1 year ago

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vernon as your boyfriend pleeaasee 🥺🥺🥺

notes: you ask, i deliver. i hope you enjoy this!

vernon as your boyfriend

sometimes you just sit together with a shared earphone and listen to each other's music recommendations. just imagine: pinkies interlinked, sitting in a quiet café and knowing you're both experiencing the same song at the same time and reveling in it. you occasionally nudge each other to make little comments or just to get the other's attention.

loves listening to you talk– whether it be about your day or your interests. he always puts everything down just to listen to you attentively, nodding along, fully immersed in what you're saying.

calls you babe or baby normally. however. i think he'd call you love if he's particularly soft, and dude or bro if he's excited ("dude, did you see the new ___ album?!")

you both definitely nerd out about common interests together. talking all animated and excited with one another, laughs filling your shared apartment.

cuddling would be him holding you and tracing little shapes onto your back, caressing your hair and playing with it gently. he loves feeling your warmth and how you just seem to melt into him, completely comfortable in his embrace.

makes you a huge playlist that he regularly adds songs onto if they remind him of you/he thinks you would like.

a really good kisser. like, Really Good. he'd hold you close and bite your bottom lip gently and feel you all over and–

sometimes he'll randomly hold you and tell you in a low voice the sweetest things. like how you look so pretty, he really likes your smile, he really enjoys your company. he tells you things how they are and the further you are in the relationship, the less he feels the need to hide these things. he's just so sincere when it comes to you.

as your relationship progresses, you see how he gradually feels safe enough to be his full self around you. showing you unfinished songs, favourite movies and songs, how he reacts to certain situations. i feel like getting to know him would just be such a Good Experience.

always in your orbit whenever you're together. fiddling with your fingers, playing with a rip on your jeans, putting your hands in the pocket of his hoodie. he's just naturally drawn to you.

you're known as the chill couple. down to do basically anything, from energetic raves to just sitting and existing together.

he looks at you a lot, but not in a creepy staring way. just in a awestruck, stars in his eyes way. like he can't believe he has you.

sometimes you catch him staring at you, loving gaze trained on yours and you whine, "stop looking at me like that!" to which he only tilts his head, smile widening. "like what?"

you're both not big on pda except for leaning your heads on the other person's shoulder or subtle hand-holding (or squeezing the other person's hand in a stressful situation).

when you buy him clothes he makes sure he incorporates it into his outfit rotations, smiling shyly when you comment on his outfit.

if you're walking through a big crowd he'd hold you by the shoulders and guide you through, making sure you're safe and close.

from an outside perspective, anybody could tell how much you love each other. it's something in the way your love for each other seems to radiate, seeping into everything you do. it's the look on your faces when you tell a story about the other, it's the pride in your expression watching the other succeed, the secret language you both have– communicating through subtle taps on the other's knee and facial expressions.

slow, lazy mornings. he cuddles up into you and litters kisses on your face and neck, muttering a soft, good morning, did you sleep well?

remembers basically everything you tell him, and you're always surprised when he brings up something you said off-handedly months ago but he simply replies with, well, why wouldn't i remember? i like hearing things about you, baby.

#svt writers #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #vernon x reader #vernon #vernon fluff #vernon scenarios #svt headcanons #seventeen headcanons #vernon x y/n #hansol x reader #frenshushutoast writes

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diagonal-queen · 1 year ago

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May i request headcanons of lovesick tecchou? :)

yes you can!

Lovesick Tecchou Headcanons

♡ pairing: Tecchou Suehiro x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: ...read the title bestie

♡ cw: Kinda obsessive and toxic behaviour. Being lovesick is fine but don't hurt anybody!

note: This kind of borders on yandere Tecchou. Sorry if that's not what you wanted T-T and apologies for errors, hope you enjoy x

Tecchou loves very strongly though he may not seem like the type. He can come off as obsessive at times but that's just because he loves you so much <3

He's so extremely protective of you. He wants to be near you whenever he's able to and so most of the time

He gets jealous rather easily whenever you spend time with anybody he considers to be a romantic rival, but he always feels bad about it. He wants to trust that you'll choose him but he can't help his self-doubt.

He makes up any excuse to either have you stay the night at his place, or he stays at yours. Tecchou feels like it's the only way he can keep you safe at all times, and plus he feels lucky to be around you in your most vulnerable state.

He tends to zone out and daydream about your hypothetical future lives together. Jouno can tell when he does this and he's so tired of it.

Tecchou likes to provide subtle but kind acts of service for you. Sharing his food with you, holding open doors, putting a blanket over you when you fall asleep...things like that. He loves the feeling he has when you thank him for that kind of stuff.

While he's working, there are times when he just wants to leave so he can spend time with you. But you're also one of his main motivations as a Hunting Dog, because he knows that in the end he's not only helping the country, but you as well.

His absolute favourite thing in the world is when you two are cuddling one another and he gets to lay his head on your chest while you play with his hair. It makes him feel safe too, and while doing so he likes to pretend that you feel the exact same about him as he does for you.

You're one of the main things Tecchou talks to the other Hunting Dogs about. Jouno listened at first but he's very much started tuning it out by now, as have the rest of the members. You're his biggest distraction.

He's always there for you whenever you're experiencing any troubles, and he'll do everything in his power to fix them for you.

When it comes to your romantic issues though, he can get a little jealous. He'll still listen and console you, but if there's anyone specifically bothering you he is gonna have a word with them.

When I say word, I really do mean word. He might be jealous but he is an honourable and sensible person. If need be he might make a threat or two though, because he just can't help himself. He loves you so much and nobody who would hurt you deserves to be yours.

Tecchou is more than willing to let you borrow his clothes, and in fact he sometimes subtly encourages it. Maybe he left his shirt on your couch or maybe he convinced you not to bring a jacket when the two of you go out, knowing you'll end up needing one and he'll be able to give you his. He thinks you look adorable in his clothes.

He has so many drafted love confessions to you in his Notes app, he's got several playlists dedicated to you, you're his Wi-Fi password. He'll find a way to incorporate you into far too many aspects of his life.

He also memorises almost everything about you. If you tell him something random about yourself, like your favourite food or a bone you've broken before, he'll remember it all. He might also mention it later so you know that he's always listening to you.

Tecchou loves you so much, more than anything. Why don't you love him back?

Taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fedyushka, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl

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v3nusxsky · 2 years ago

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Hello✨

Can I request a fic where Larissa and f!reader are in relationship and one night are talking about what turns them on and would maybe wanted to try in bed and R mentions that somnophillia sounds interesting and Larissa agrees. So one night L can’t fall asleep while R is already sleeping she remembers what R said and decided to give somnophillia a go? (Hope everything makes sense, it’s my first time requesting)

Hello my lovely, I hope this is okay my darling and I’m honoured to be the person to receive your first request.

Experimenting 18+

*Authors note~ I have to admit I was a little anxious about how to approach it and where I could take it. But I think I'm finally happy with the outcome now*

Trigger warnings~ somnophillia oral (r receiving) thigh riding (l ) fingering (r )

Prompt~ see the ask^^^

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

When you joined the Nevermore staff, you had never imagined that it would lead you to the love of your life. Or that she would be a shape shifting headmistress who doted on your every move. This was clearly a slice of heaven and you'd be lying to say if you weren't addicted to the angel that was clearly Larissa Weems. The fact someone so uniquely beautiful, inside and out, was interested in little you was absolutely mind blowing for you. Yet you couldn't be happier with your life.

It's only natural as your relationship progressed you and Larissa had conversations about what you like and dislike. It became clear quickly to you both that Larissa thrived off of dominating you and you adored submitting to the women. That fact caused more questions to be asked and more limits and boundaries to be discussed. As efficient as she always is, Larissa complied all the information into a document and you'd regularly review it to see if it was all correct. That list is what caused the best morning of your life.

During these conversations consent had been acquired for any possible situation that could occur. The thought of doing something you were not happy with actually made the taller women feel physically I'll. There was multiple ways she could incorporate your desires which allowed her to still leave you guessing. The element of surprise is what added to the game. You had safe words and the colour system as ways of reassurance. Your safe word being "Ocean" and "Red" while amber allowed a conversation to take place.

Recently you had been having a rough time, your students seemed to want to challenge your authority which had resulted in you being extremely stressed and agitated. You constantly seconded guessed everything you did and were unable to fully relax and unwind outside of the classroom. It was truly heartbreaking for Larissa to see, you hadn't even tried to be your usual bratty self the past few days. That's when the idea hit her, you were to focused on what was happening around you that you weren't able to fully let go, all she wanted to do was help you with that. Which is why she consulted the file and found one thing you wanted to try, something Larissa had been on the fence with initially. After talking about Larissa agreed to try it with you but truthfully you had accepted that it was just going to remain a fantasy. Oh but your girlfriend was full of surprises.

Larissa would always wake up first. It was a routine really, normally she would spend time in bed with you enjoying the intimate moments. You were always so beautiful but there was something about how you looked asleep. Your mind free of worry, your brows relaxed and your lips curled up in a little smile every time you felt her lips against your skin. That's what really gave her the confidence to do this for you. You needed to relax and if this was going to help then Larissa would happily oblige. Not only were you a submissive but you were her love and she only wanted you happy in life.

Thankfully, you always preferred to sleep without clothing, you'd argue it was much too warm for that, that made Larissa's plan ten times easier. Ever so carefully she moved her body below the covers and shifted to settle between your legs. She let her lips press a few gentle kisses to your thighs and her fingers trailing over the skin there. Every now and then she would peak her head up through the cover to see what your facial expression was doing. Seeing the happy smile on your lips encouraged her to give your centre a tentative lick. You instantly responded on your sleep by your breath hitching. Much to Larissa's relief she could see you were enjoying yourself despite being asleep. And that's what spurred her on. Her licks becoming more sure of themselves.

You felt yourself coming round to the land of the living with an undeniable feeling of pleasure between the apex of your thighs. A moan tore through you as your sleepy brain registered your girlfriends diligently working her tongue against your now dripping core. Moans were spilling out from you uncontrollably and you brought your hands to her hair in a tale that you wanted her to continue. You could feel her smirk against your cunt before she plunged her tongue inside of you and moaned at the taste. "Oh fuck me larissa Jesus" you moaned the sleep still evident in your voice. This was ten times hotter than you had ever imagined.

Sensing you were close she moved the covers so she could see you before whispering "my little slut, you enjoy mommy using you while you sleep then huh?" You couldn't help but moan at her words, they were cut off by a cry as she took your aching clit between her lips to suck. That's what threw you over the edge. She helped you come back from your high before crawling up to kiss you good morning. You could taste yourself on her tongue before you mumbled "good morning to you too my love"

One kiss lead to multiple kisses and a quick check in which you readily replied "green god green" had resulted in Larissa perched on your thigh, her fingers finding your soaked centre. You brought yourself up to try and kiss every inch of her exposed chest, her hips rocking in time with her thrusting fingers. The room filled with the sounds of your arousal and the combined moans and pants of you both as you chased the high together. That morning you both fell over the edge together before collapsing in the bed together catching your breath.

"Baby? Was that okay? I just you said" Larissa stumbled over her words, the nerves now showing. "Ris, it was perfect, I loved it thank you darling" you reassured adding kisses to punctuate each word. For the first time in days you fully relaxed. Here in her arms after that amazing morning all the stress had melted away.

Word count ~ 1157

*Authors note~ I'm not sure if I like this or not but it was an attempt at least*

#fanfic #larissa weems #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie #larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #principleweemsxreader #principal larissa weems x reader #anon request #anon aks #fan fic smut

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outro-jo · 1 year ago

Text

new moon, new vibes

pairing: bang chan x gn reader

type: one shot

warnings: practicing witchcraft, mentions of deities, use of florida water, kinda spicy alluded at the end but nothing at all in detail… i can’t think of anything else 😂

notes: this is how i would practice but this is not a tutorial nor am i teaching you how to do things. if you want to practice witchcraft, please do your own research! this is just a self indulgent piece of writing and it is fiction 🫰🏻don’t come to me for questions lmao i’m sorry but i’m not a teacher. i just study for myself and incorporate things as i see fit. there are practitioners who teach, i am not one of them for my own idk… safety isn’t the right word bc like i’m protected but like mental health… i’m in and out of my practice sm it feels hypocritical to teach so just don’t ask 😂 i can give resources tho and google is ✨free✨ 🤍 also, i wouldn’t really request another one of these. the new moon in virgo said, “bitch, do something” 😂 sorry for the long disclaimer

please read info before requesting!

masterlist | info

—————————————————

chris tracks the moon better than you do sometimes. never for any reason in particular other than sheer curiosity but this time it all just worked out. yes, he’s like three albums ahead in recording with bonus 3racha songs that will never see the light of day, but he was feeling the need to start working on a new album too. the boys creativity was spiking as well and they were getting restless. in other words, it was time to get to work, but chris needed a refreshing in his work space. normally he loved his studio, it was all you could do some days to get him out of it. sucked into his kaleidoscope hole of creativity until it finally set him free once the album was done. but the vibes were stale. he felt trapped lately, like his mind was racing with ideas of lyrics and melodies but none of them were clicking.

that’s where you come in.

nothing felt better to christopher after he just helped clean the house and then you banish the negative energy and cleanse the space. he knew it was time for some of that in his studio or he was gonna go insane.

your spirituality was nothing you hid especially from him. he grew up in the church so he kept his distance but was quietly observing. he still remembers the first night he watched you work.

the living room was dimly lit, windows open with the moon cascading light into the living room on your makeshift work station on the coffee table. the air swirled with smells of incense, oils, and herbs and you sit quietly as you worked. your playlist of music softly played in the background. chris didn’t say a word but he was enthralled with everything you did, almost attempting to ask what each thing was and how it worked but you seemed to be in a zone.

“ask, christopher.” you spoke up, not bothering to glance his way.

he awkwardly shifted in his seat on the floor as he cleared his throat, “what’s that do?”

he cringed at himself a little for sounding like a child but you couldn’t help but smirk at how adorable and clueless he was.

“well, this is a pretty basic banishing spell.” you continued into detail of your work and the reasoning, which worked out well for you because then you could further set your intentions into the spell. eventually that’s just how you would do your spell work, explaining things to him in detail and why you were doing things.

also, it always blew his mind how you always seemed to know things before they happened but you were never super obvious about it. one time you had warned him about a presence at work. his questions at the time went unanswered but then he came home in shock.

“how the hell did you know about Beomseok?” he was in utter disbelief.

you simply shrugged, “you have family on the other side wanting to protect you.”

ever since he thought there might be something to what you do and after some time of thought he came to you and said that however you wanted to use him in your practice, he was willing. you started out slow and decided that apollo would be a good fit to work with for him and his music. it started with regular cleansing and a sun charm you enchanted for him, but now chris was feeling the pull for more to be done.

“i need your help.”

you glanced up at him from your spot on the couch to give him your full attention as he moved to take a seat next to you. he seemed nervous as he shifted a bit.

“so, the moon is moving into pisces tonight and the guys and i are feeling a shift in our creativity and it’s a new moon but the energy in my studio is awful. so i was wondering…” chris stopped looking for you to finish the sentence as he wasn’t quite sure what he was even asking for.

you mimicked his head motions, trying to pick up what he was putting down. “you want me to cleanse your space?”

“i think so…” he breathed out a chuckle. “something, i dunno. whatever you do in here when we clean the house.”

you let out a laugh, finally understanding what he was trying to ask. “ok, yeah, so some incense, crystals?”

“yes! i like crystals.”

fuck, he was cute.

“yeah! let me get some stuff. oh! and by the window over there, grab a water bottle.” you pointed as you walked down the hall.

“one of these?”

“yep! it’s moon water. it’ll cleanse you too.” quickly you rushed out, stopping in front of him as he drank and showed the spray bottle in your hand. “florida water. gets rid of bad vibes. if we’re gonna do this we should cleanse ourselves.”

“oh! uh-ok.” he stood up straighter and squared off his shoulders in preparation.

“close your eyes and take a deep breath in…” you paused as he complied. “and out. good! now imagine a bright, warm, golden light surrounding you.”

after a minute, he nodded, “ok.”

“keep your eyes closed, and i’ll spray this now, ok?”

he nodded.

“perfect. keep drinking your water. do you remember what incense you liked best?” you rushed off again to gather supplies.

“ummm… oh! the dragon one!”

you giggled to yourself, “dragon’s blood?”

“yeah! it sounds cool.”

god, his intuition is insane.

you finished packing up your essentials and as the sun was setting you were able to head down to his studio. immediately when you walked in, you could tell exactly what he meant by the energy being off. the room, while not having any physical changes, felt stagnant and almost moldy without having the physical smell, but nothing you couldn’t fix.

“ok, top to bottom clean. dusting, clearing out trash, everything.” you told him.

chris nodded and immediately got to work. he was thankful to start with something he understood. while jype had regular cleaners, chris usually told them not to bother cleaning in here since he has things a certain way and he always intended to clean himself… he never did. the room already started to feel better with just a deep cleaning.

“what next?” chris asked eagerly.

“cleanse with some florida water and incense.” you explained, pulling it out of your bag.

this time when you used the florida water, you explained the history of the perfume to him and explained the use of herbs and ingredients, since you usually made it yourself. next was the incense and the properties of dragon’s blood, saying that it’s good for courage in pursuing creative projects that might be out of his comfort zone and that how there’s even science to back how the essential oils have increased activity in the left hemisphere of the brain.

“next, crystals. we charge them in the moon or sunlight.” you told him, raising the first one too him. “citrine, it’s heat treated amethyst that changes the color. it banishes negative energy and keeps you focused. also brings in abundance.” you finished him with a wink. each crystal you pulled out of your bag you gave an explanation and finally set everything up. finally you pulled out a golden stick candle with some herbs. “final thing, we’re gonna ask apollo for some help.”

“oh! the music guy! that’s a good idea!” chris exclaimed as he took the seat next to you at the desk.

everything felt different from the first time he saw you practicing your craft. before he was quiet and timid, afraid to ask questions and even participate. now, he was getting fully involved by helping make sigils with his intentions, carving them into the candle then applying herbs and oils. the two of you watched the candle burn down and chris already felt the energy in the room shift dramatically with new ideas for music pouring into his head. he couldn’t wait to get started but it was still a new moon and you two had other rituals to attend to.

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palant1r · 2 years ago

Note

There are so many fascinating interpretations of light's cannonball into immorality but i have no friends to talk about it with 😭 so why do u think light went so evil so quick? one of my fave interpretations is that, even tho light spoke a bit on how he thought the world was rotten, his ideology was a retroactive justification for killing ppl using the notebook and that his first two kills were actually just him being "bored" and everything grew from there

Man, okay. I have a confession to make: one of the reasons I find Light so fascinating is that I really see myself in him — we just went down uh. VERY different paths. So maybe I'm projecting a bit, but I find his cannonball both understandable and deeply sad, while simultaneously inexcusable and thoughtless. Here goes:

I think that Light has always been someone who is extremely concerned with being Good. His greatest fear is being Bad. Not to personality type him, but he is the quintessential enneagram type one. He holds a deep amount of anger at perceived injustice, and because he needs to be Good, that anger becomes righteous. The thing is, when people are terrified of being anything but Good, that doesn't actually make them do good things. It makes them justify anything they do as good, and makes them completely unwilling to question their own worldviews because the idea of accidentally discovering they've been Bad is too painful to bear. (Like how, when Ryuk says Light would be the only bad person left, Light pulls out some non sequitur and refuses to even engage with that possibility). Another thing is, Light Yagami finds the Death Note when he's in high school. Maybe if he'd found the Death Note later, he wouldn't have gone full Kira mode. But he found the Death Note at a time in his life when he was starting to come up with his own rigid and righteous moral code without the experience to incorporate nuance. Another thing: his dad is a cop, and as I've discussed, he clearly gets his moral code from his dad but with even MORE anxiety about Doing a Bad.

So he finds the Death Note. And he kills the dude who took those hostages. I think he was just being a stupid teenager here, acting impulsively but convincing himself he was being Big Brained. Remember, cop dad: he believes that Crime is a thing that must be Punished, and that Punishment is a Moral Good. It has to be, otherwise his dad and him by extension are Bad, and that is simply unacceptable. After that, I don't think Light was thinking beyond immediate practicalities — the weight of what he'd done hadn't set in yet. He had to confirm the Death Note's power, because Light is ALSO someone who really needs certainty and control. So he kills that one attempted rapist.

And THEN what he's done sets in. We see Light have a mental breakdown, stare the slippery slope in the face, and then immediately decide to grab a sled.

Here's what I think happened. When he realized what he'd done, Light was left with two possibilities. The first was to admit to himself that he was a murderer — that he had done a Bad Thing, and for Light, doing a Bad Thing is totally indistinguishable from being intrinsically, ontologically Bad. This was obviously too painful. So he went with option two: in order to preserve his own self-image as a Good Person, he retroactively justified his actions as Good. This was made easier by the cop morality poison, since under that framework, punishing evil makes people good. After all, there was no doubt a riot team ready to move in on that daycare who might have killed that guy anyway.

Of course, once he'd done that, he couldn't stop there. Light is also a responsible, dutiful person. Because he'd mentally framed his killings as a heroic and necessary act for the sake of self-preservation, continuing his "cleansing" became not just morally neutral but a moral duty. One that he had to continue in order to preserve his self-image of a Good Person. It's a self deluding feedback loop where his actions are good because he is good, and he is good because his actions are good. Light has absolutely no moral self-awareness because that would force him to confront the most painful truth he could possibly acknowledge. His view of ethics is mind-numbingly, braindead-ly simple (baby's first deterrence theory) (someone get Hobbes on the line, this bitch is trying to be the Leviathan) because it's never meant to be a coherent philosophy in the first place — it's a self-justifying defense mechanism.

It's like...so sad to me. Because I see in Light Yagami the potential for an actual well-adjusted person — he wasn't doomed to turn out like this. As much as we clown, without the Death Note I don't think he'd become the Unabomber. He clearly wants to be a good person! But the Death Note didn't "control" or "corrupt" him, either. It just gave him absolute power to carry out an extreme ideology driven by his police upbringing and moral anxiety at a time when he did not have the experience to pump the brakes.

#death note #meta #light yagami

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ancientcraftnoccultism · 1 year ago

Text

Beginner Class - Cleansing 101

Ancient Craft & Occultism

Cleansing 101

___

By KB

Introduction

Welcome back to class! We occasionally need to rid ourselves of any negative feelings, stresses, and issues. Now that we've covered how to connect with our personal energy, how do we keep it up hygienically? Many places of employment may advise us to leave our personal issues outside the building, but if you're really struggling, it may be difficult to do. We're going to cover the basics of cleansing and how to incorporate it into your life!

What Is Cleansing?

Purification, often referred to as cleansing, is the process of removing and letting go of negative energy as well as energy that is just out of date, stagnant, or no longer helpful to you. This is sometimes referred to as "energetic hygiene" because it's something that can and should be done on a regular basis rather than just after a bad experience. When the energy is off and you know it's time for a refresh, you might perform a cleansing ceremony or ritual. It's all about getting rid of the old to make room for new, energizing energy to flow. Cleansing assists in preventing the energy of the people who pass through a space or object from lingering for an extended period of time.

Why Should I Cleanse?

Well, it's simpler to maintain something than to have to fix it when it breaks, just like physical cleaning or other sorts of cleanliness. You know it's better to brush and floss your teeth twice a day than to need a root canal, right? Cleansing functions similarly. It's much harder for bad or unwanted energy to enter your environment in the first place if you frequently cleanse it. It's also simpler to let go of negative energy when it does occur or when it manifests.

It's also crucial to remember that this applies to your house and spaces as well as your physical and energetic body. It's simple to pick up on someone else's negative attitude, anger or grief, or lack of motivation since many of us, especially those of us who are more intuitive or empathetic, can be quite sensitive to the emotions and energy of others. A pretty effective approach to make sure you're always in your own energy is to cleanse yourself. A fantastic approach to accomplish this is to take a bath or shower at the end of the day, either by themselves or in conjunction with more energetic routines.

How To Cleanse?

There are various ways to cleanse, and we're going to cover a few of the most popular ones. As always, these suggestions aren't the only methods of cleansing or purification. I encourage you all to research other methods of cleansing and purification.

Physically Cleanse

Physical spaces and objects absorb and hold energy, just like they do with smoke, or other harsh fumes. It's important to keep physical hygiene and cleanliness of a space and of self in order to prevent stagnant or unwanted energies from interfering.

Smoke Cleanse

This is probably one of the most popular ways to cleanse. Again, please do not confuse this with Smudging, which is a completely different topic and ritual. This is exactly as it sounds, where you use the smoke of an herb or incense to clear the metaphysical aura around you and the space you are in. When you waft the smoke around, much like how atoms and particles begin to dissipate when heated, the smoke acts as a way break apart unwanted energies and allow the energy to return to neutral, and free flowing. It is important to note not to do this while pets are around.

Water

Just as water physically cleans, it also metaphysically purifies as well. Although, not everything would be ideal to be cleansed with water, such as certain crystals, paper items, etc. Always do research, as chemical reactions ARE a thing and CAN be dangerous.

Earth

Much like with grounding, earth naturally cleanses and purifies. Burying an object in earth for several hours can remove and transmute unwanted energies.

Light

Both illuminates in the sky provide wonderful light to cleanse with. Our ancestors knew of the sun's power to kill harmful bacteria, and the moon's intensity to bring about rapid change. It aligns things on a molecular level.

Sound

Since everything is a frequency, it only makes sense that sound would aid in purification. Bells, drums, and other noisy instruments are particularly wonderful for cleansing large, open spaces.

#elder witch #baby witch #witchblr #beginner witch #witchcraft #dark witchcraft #astrology #tarot #aesthetic #divination

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nightowlwriting · 2 years ago

Text

summary: you never learn to tell the difference between

the probable projections and the best parts of the dream

it's time to fight. it's time to prove that you're useful. the team finds out what you think of your cell and your situation. wanda's brother comes home and you visit.

word count: 8.1k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, enhanced!reader, traumatized!reader

warnings: typical violence for cannon, ptsd symptoms, panic attacks, lapse of reality, descriptions of war/death/blood/violent acts, self-loathing

note: this is the part four of an ongoing series, find the series masterlist here. i think i got all of the tw/cw, but if i missed something please send an ask!

title & summary credit: the mountain goats

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

You dodge Steve for the better part of two minutes, keeping an eye on his updated fighting style. You’d studied him furiously under your time with the Handlers but he’s had years of experience since that. You haven’t. His endurance is almost as good as yours so by the time you’re starting to feel the burn in your legs from the rapid-fire movement you know he’s feeling it, too. There’s still one thing left to decide before you take the offense.

Just which incorporeal thread are you going to tug on to fight him? Instinct says fire because Steve doesn’t have a long-range attack, not really. The fire will keep him at bay and do damage, which will win you the fight. But fire is angry and hard to control, which doesn’t match Steve’s new fighting style at all. Every movement he makes, every point-turn to try and get you on the ground or off balance, is a brilliant strategy that you know he’s coming up with on the fly. The serum did a lot for Steve physically, but you heard the rumors from the Handlers. He’s always been whip-smart, a little irrational and irresponsible, and a hell of a good strategist. Those things knockout using air and water, too. Air is too unpredictable, even when you’re the one in charge. Water is too much give and take for the way that he’s moving.

Steve fights like he’s a brick wall with legs. He uses his shield to try and batter you to the side and uses his legs and feet like they’re steel rods connected to his torso to anchor him low to the ground to keep him agile. It makes you grit your teeth because earth is stubborn. It’s hard to move unless you’re grounded and with Steve’s speed, it’s hard to keep more than one foot on the ground at a time. He knows he’s pushing your buttons, too, because the whole time he’s on the offense and you’re dodging backward and sideways out of his way he’s fucking grinning.

Typically that would set you off, but it’s easy to remember what this is for, especially now that you’re in the swing of things. They want to see what you can do so they can see how useful you are to them. They want to measure your power, yes, but also your control. Earth is all about control, and so is Captain Steve Rogers. (At least, what you know of him from the Before and what little you’ve gleaned of him in the After.)

When you take a turn for the offense it takes Steve by surprise. Instead of dodging away from his fist you take it on the chin and let it knock you back. He pauses just for a moment but that’s all you need - letting the momentum spin you and working with the topsy-turvy way that the hit makes your head spin, you come from back with a heel to his chin. Behind you, where the others are observing, you hear someone groan. Steve’s eyes go foggy just for a second because you’d put your back into the kick and it gives you just enough time to take measured steps backward out of his melee range.

A deep breath while he recovers, grounding your bare feet into the bare dirt you’re standing on. You extend yourself into the earth and tug the strings up through the soles of your feet like a ball-jointed doll. You are thrumming with the heartbeat of the world underneath you by the time Steve finally raises his head less than half a second later. His eyes widen as he watches your eyes flicker, a deep forest green taking over the entirety of your sclera for a fraction of a second before your eyes are back to normal. “Yeah, good job,” He praises.

Because you’re jacked into the ground beneath you and everything on or in it, you know what Steve’s going to do just after he does. He rears back and slings the shield at you like a frisbee but you’re ready. Sure, it’s an adamantium shield but adamantium is still metal. It’s still mined from the earth and perfected from its raw form. It’s still a string you can tug on, a limb you have that nobody else does.

He gapes when you catch the shield in your hand and bend it like a paper plate, tossing it to the side. You’re tired of playing games, tired of being a prisoner, just plain tired. It had been a realization when you’d let yourself go completely into the earth: the others were watching you fight Steve which means each fight after this one is going to get harder and harder. Not just because you’ll be tired, but because they’ll have seen your fighting style. There’s no doubt that Bucky, Natasha, and Tony are impeccable fighters. Steve, as a Captain, wouldn’t let them fight you if they weren’t skilled. So, logically, the faster you get each fight over with the less they know and the more stamina you save for the next fight.

The shield clangs against a rock and your crack your neck, still standing vaguely relaxed except for your grounded stance. Steve’s muscles coiling echoes through your mind through the soles of your feet but you’re done fighting him. It was fun dodging and ducking around Captain America, but now you just want to get this over with and get back to your cell so that you can continue to pay the penance of your failure. Before Steve can take a step you’re sliding your dominant foot forward, feeling the heartbeat and flow beneath it, and pulling your hands up like you’re a puppeteer.

The ground in front of him rumbles for a split second, not long enough for him to do anything, and then Steve is encased in a cave of rock four feet thick. There are shouts behind you but then everyone hears his fists strike his cage one, two, three times and they calm down. You’re not a monster, not in the way that they think you are. You’d left him room enough to crouch and, apparently, throw a few punches. Your blood is still thrumming five minutes later when Tony finally calls the match, Steve unable to figure out how to get out of the rock cage.

He’s flushed, chest heaving when he’s revealed with just the wave of one of your hands, the earth shifting back to where it rests naturally. “My shield!”

“Oh,” You start, already forgotten that you’d bent it out of place. Bucky’s holding it, mouth slightly agape as he turns it over in his hands, “I can fix it.”

“How can you fix that?” Sam has joined Bucky in gaping at the ruined shield. “It’s a piece of history, y’know.” You know he’s trying to joke with you and break the tension, but you won’t be relaxed until you figure out who you’re fighting next and how.

“I’m a piece of history,” You mumble, taking the shield from Bucky as Steve joins the three of you. Maybe it was a little mean to bend it in half like that, but he threw it at your face. You frown as you work the shield open, ratcheting your arms and focusing on the bonds of the metal. Everything has a natural state and you’re just able to bend those states to your will - basic physics says that everything wants to go back to that natural state though, so once you’re done the shield is as good as new.

“Oh, geez,” Steve breathes as you hand it back to him, “It doesn’t even look like you bent it.”

“See?” You glance at Sam and shrug, “Everything’s jake. Wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think that I couldn’t fix it.”

“You could have killed him,” Natasha finally parts from where she, Wanda, Bruce, and Tony had been discussing something in a tight group, “But you didn’t.”

“Why would I kill him?” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest, “You’ve brought me out here to run tests. I’m goin’ to do the tests the same way that I would if I was with the Handlers.” An eerie silence falls around your group, Steve and Bucky sharing an unreadable look with Natasha and Sam. “You’ve already given me a much better chance of winnin’, too, because you’re letting me outside.”

“Letting you?” Bucky repeats, eyebrows pulled tight over his eyes. He looks confused, which is confusing to you. “What d’you mean?” You frown and look away from the heavy glances they’re sending your way.

“Well, I can’t exactly walk out here by myself.”

“You can,” Sam is the first to speak, “You literally can.”

“Wait,” Steve shifts his weight and puts a hand up, his voice drawing your attention up, “Do you think you can’t go anywhere without one of us?” Over his shoulder, the slow-dawning horror begins creeping up Bucky’s face.

“That’s exactly what you think. Y-You’re allowed to leave your room without one’a us. You’re not trapped here.” He wraps his right hand around Steve’s wrist, drawing the blond’s attention, “Did we not make that clear? This whole time-” He chokes on his words and you look to Sam and Natasha for some sort of explanation. Natasha’s face is soft with compassion - or pity, maybe. They look about the same to you.

“You have pretty much free reign of the compound,” She shakes her head and then pushes some of her fiery hair out of her face, “Your room isn’t a cell.” A visceral uncomfortable feeling rises in your stomach and chest. They’re catching you off guard and it’s… It’s awful. This was easy when Bucky brought you out here - it was familiar. But now they’re trying to tell you that you’re not in a cell? That you’re not just another lab rat? You take a deep breath and swallow hard.

“It is,” You shake your head, frowning, “It’s a very nice cell, though. I - you don’t - there’s no need to pretend here,” You take your time to look at the people around you. They all look horrified, but in different ways. “I know what I am and I know what you guys are. I’m in your custody and you’re my Handlers. I give you information and you give me good food and good exercise, and Bruce gets to study me. I get it, you don’t have to pretend this is anything but that.” You shrug. “It’s better here than it was Underground.” The silence is unsettling. You can hear the soft conversation from the other group of people outside and then the thrumming life of birds and insects in the grass and trees. You’re uncomfortable under their gazes, especially the look Bucky and Steve give you. They’re like mirrors of each other: clenched jaws, low eyebrows, bobbing throats. They’re upset about something - maybe it’s because you’d finally said it out loud. Everybody knows that you’re technically their prisoner, but maybe it’s saying it out loud that has upset them. Your hands begin to shake when you think about the fact that you might’ve upset them, especially with how brightly they’d been looking at you while you fixed Steve’s shield.

Like a Godsend, Bruce calls your name and gives you an excuse to push past the super-soldiers to join his group instead. He looks up brightly from the rectangle in his hand that’s called a tablet and is just like a laptop except small with no keys to type with. He’s using a pen on the screen but you don’t see an inkwell. “What a brilliant fight,” He gushes, looking up at you for just a fraction of a second over his glasses. Bruce is almost always frazzled like this when you’ve done something that he thinks is particularly spectacular. “I want you to spar with Natasha next. Does that sound good?”

“Of course,” You nod, crossing your arms over your chest. How could you say no?

“I hope Bucky explained this to you, but we prefer it if you try to limit your abilities to one element per combatant.” He mumbles something under his breath that you don’t understand, but that’s pretty common, and then snaps the case on his tablet closed. Bruce gives you a bright grin and you smile weakly back. “And you can tap out at any time if you want. I know you have a high endurance but I imagine this is taxing, regardless.”

“Being outside helps,” You shift, “It makes me stronger to have… Connections. To everything.” It’s hard to tell Bruce that because it’s also telling him that if you lose control or they want to hurt you that they can just cut off access to one of the elements. But it’s also easy because Bruce is incredibly fascinated with everything about you. He’s nice, and it’s nice to have a scientist that doesn’t poke you with a cattle prod if you have an attitude or collapse exhausted. (He also doesn’t work you to exhaustion and gives you breaks. It’s nice.)

“Of course,” Bruce nods like he’s known that, and maybe he has. His mind works incredibly fast for someone who’s not enhanced. In fact, Bruce might be the smartest person that you know.

Tony is also very smart from what you’ve seen. Everyone on the team is wildly intelligent but all in different ways. There’s no doubt that they’re going to adapt after every match and make it harder for you to win. Still, you’re confident in your ability to come out of this set of tests not only impressing the Avengers, but winning each match. Bruce observes you for a second, muttering under his breath, and then takes a step around you. “Nat! We’ll have you go next, okay?” She looks unimpressed from her spot in the huddle but nods in affirmation.

“We’ll see how you fare against me,” She moves toward you as Bruce moves away. You take measured steps backward to put more space between Natasha and the others so that you don’t hurt them once you gauge what to use against her. She matches your steps forward in a casual gait, mimicking how you’d stayed light on your feet against Steve. You don’t have the upper hand in this fight, though, because you have no idea how Natasha fights. She’s not wearing any visible weaponry but you can sense the knives she has hidden on her person. Will she throw them? Will she try to get into melee with you?

You switch gears when Natasha lunges at you, unsheathing a knife from a holster under her arm. Instead of falling back or dodging to the sides, you meet her halfway and follow the arc of her slash just a few seconds faster than she moves. While she stumbles forward, taken off guard by your bold move you fall forward into a roll behind her and pop to your feet in a defensive position. You both fight like that for a few minutes and finally, it clicks in your head: she’s a dancer. Steve is a brick wall of force and Natasha is a dancer. The wind shifts cold and then warm around you as you pull on the air, rebuffing her next attack with a gust that knocks her off balance and her feet until she’s skidding in the dirt.

“Dirty, dirty tricks, darling,” She says from a crouch but she’s grinning. It’s all teeth, feral and hungry for more combat. You bare your teeth at her in the same way, snarling low in your throat. “You’re fun when you give up the ghost and play.” She leaps, then, and you rock up onto your toes. It’s easier to get the air around you to behave when you’re mobile, stepping lightly, dancing around Natasha as she tries to swipe at you. Natasha is a bullet, all red hair and teeth, but she’s still graceful. She barely touches the ground as you two spin around each other. It just takes one moment of lost focus for her to land a strike on you.

The pain is hot against your side as she slashes upward in an arc over your ribs. It bursts behind your eyes in a flash of scorching blood and torn fabric. Natasha hesitates, clearly not expecting to land such a devastating hit and you use that to your advantage. The pain is a lot, yes, but you barely flinch. Compared to the others that the Handlers would make you fight, this is nothing.

The pain is nothing.

Natasha grunts when you spin again, bringing the current of the air with your open palms. It slams against her with gale force that’s strong enough to lift her off of her feet and slam her back-first into the ground, the knife falling from her limp grasp. You back off, listening to her gasp for breath and make sure you hadn’t accidentally broken a rib into her lungs. Also, you wait for the cattle prod, the cuffs, the pain to come because you messed up. It wasn’t supposed to be that strong, wasn’t supposed to do that damage, wasn’t supposed to fling her ten feet into the air and then flatten her on the ground.

You tense your body, close your eyes, and you wait. It seems to take years for the footsteps to cross over to you, but you wait. You can pick out who’s walking by the sound, now, after so much time listening at your door for who’s coming to pick you up. Sam, Tony, and Bruce pass you in favor of helping Natasha up - or asking her questions, in Bruce’s case. Steve and Bucky stop behind you, perhaps watching the way your elbows press into your sides as you make shaking fists or the way that your shoulders slowly rise to meet your earlobes. Maybe they’re not looking at any of that, maybe they’re looking at the fractalling burn patterns on the ground beneath you as you fight for control over your fear, or the ice that’s starting to curl up over your biceps and encase your skin in swirling, intricate patterns. When one of them finally lays his hand on your shoulder you flinch so sharply that the ice breaks and falls to the ground, fire burning out as you retreat back into your head.

“I’m sorry,” You hear yourself saying, “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“You didn’t hurt her,” Steve’s hand stays on your shoulder as he walks around to be in your line of sight, “See? Nat’s fine.” She is, getting up and grinning and everything, but it’s so hard to process that. Even the sunlight of the day outside is starting to look like an industrial ceiling with dank, broken pipes that leak when the snow melts too much or when the Handlers on the surface use too much water too quickly. Even Steve’s voice, sturdy and calm with an unshaken power, doesn’t sound much like him. You can hear a Handler, feel their warm breath over your face as they leer closer and closer with their teeth bared and a sick smile and heavy hands that touch much too much and -

“Hey!” Bucky knocks Steve’s hand off of your shoulder and drops his vibranium hand on the opposite shoulder. It rattles you physically and mentally, drawing your wandering and slow-moving eyes to his. “Listen to me,” Steve is there, over Bucky’s shoulder, “You are outside with us. Nobody here is mad at you, nobody here is going to punish you. This is what we wanted you to do. Do you understand?” His voice is strong, cutting through the mildew smell that had begun to choke you, pulling the threads of your mind back to the protective shell of you versus You. But Bucky doesn’t seem to want to let that happen.

“I… I understand.” You finally reply, trying a small smile as you look between Steve and Bucky. “I think I understand.”

The news jumps on the mysterious painting almost as soon as it’s noticed. It’s off in an alleyway not frequented often, but frequented enough. First, it starts as a picture on Instagram. Found some rad graffiti. Wonder what it means. Then it’s a local picture spot for a week or two.

Finally, the owner of the bistro notices and calls his boss. He’s not stupid, not by a long shot, and he knows what Serdste means. He’s heard the stories passed down from his family members - men who’ve been in the business of blood money for far longer than he has. He’s a generation or two removed from Russian as his first language, but he still speaks it enough at the old folk's home to know what’s coming next.

His boss must call their contact in the NYPD because the next day he’s sitting on his couch listening to his old lady chatter on the phone and watching the footage from the helicopter he heard earlier that day.

The footage is hard to make out unless you know what you’re looking for. It appears to be innocuous graffiti - a bit large and sort of an eyesore - and it’s just a heart on fire. Anatomically correct, a little off-putting to think about, but a concept that he knows the local youths will, and have been, going crazy for. It was the writing that had made him pick up the phone the first time he'd seen it. In haphazard scrawl across the main expanse of the heart is angry, dripping, black ink.

Сердце

Живет на

И снова поднимется.

Or:

Serdtse

Zhivet na

I snova podnimetsya.

Or:

The Heart

Lives on

And will rise again.

You take a break after your fight with Natasha. She comes over after Bucky has you do some breathing exercises with Steve at your side and claps you on the back. “That was a good hit. Very strong. I haven’t had someone down me that quickly since I was a teenager.” Her words hold some weight that you’re not sure you understand in the way that others understand but still, you know. She had asked you about the Red Room - it must be something like the Underground. You wonder how many people she’s had to kill and how many of their names she remembers.

You remember them all.

You’re getting worked up about everything again when Bruce comes over to lay his hand gently on your bicep. “Maybe we should continue another day. I shouldn’t have suggested so many tests in one day like this.”

“I’m sorry,” You reflexively reply, “I know I can do more tests. We don’t have to wait.”

“We’re not mad at you,” Natasha points out, “We’re worried about you.”

You blink and then look back at Steve and Bucky - the people that, despite how they treated you when they first found out who you are, you trust the most. Bucky smiles weakly at you - which he’s been doing since you calmed down during the breathing exercises - but Steve nods. “It’s true. None of us knew how you felt about your room.”

Cell, you want to say. It’s fine, you want to say.

But you don’t.

He reaches out for your elbow and you try to swallow down your gasp, but he and Bucky at the very minimum hear you. "Why don't we have a movie night tonight?"

"A movie night?"

"We'll pick out a movie and make snacks. You can wear comfy clothes and we'll show you a movie that you've never seen before." Steve shrugs, "Buck and I spent a long time catching up and we're still not there. We've all missed a lot of media."

"I think we should start with the Wizard Of Oz," Bucky cuts in before you can respond, "And then Star Wars." He grins and then knocks his knuckles gently against Steve's elbow, "Those blew my mind.”

"That's surprising," Steve says, “Because you and I have been livin’ sci-fi for the past seventy years.”

“I wouldn’t say living it,” Tony drawls before you can ask what sci-fi is, “Considering how much you spent on ice and how much he spent as the Fist.” The casual, blase way that Tony mentions The Fist of Hydra raises your hackles. Your jaw clicks shut audibly and a sour feeling rises in your stomach. It’s nothing but a sickly sweet reminder of what you’d done - rather, what you’d failed to do. The one good thing you’d tried to do and you couldn’t even do that right.

It’s why you’re not mad about the cell, or the training, or the tests. If that’s what you have to do to be useful, to be helpful, to be good… Then you’ll do it. You’ll take your punishment with a neutral face because, fuck, if you’d just made it out of that ice field with the files then maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe you would have died and not come back to live a bastardized, second life among the ones you’ve failed the most.

By the time the blood is done rushing through your ears and you’ve calmed down a little, you realize that Wanda is watching you closely. Everyone else is heading back toward the doors but she’s there, standing next to Steve, and watching you. She hadn’t approached you or talked to you much since you had your… Lapse of judgment about Helen Cho. It didn’t make you mad - sadder than anything else - and you understood how hesitant she might be. It’s hard to have your thoughts and memories; you can’t begin to imagine what it would be like to be assaulted with them with little to no warning. There’s no malice in her eyes now, though, and not even a little bit of pity.

“My brother is coming back tonight,” She says abruptly, cutting Steve off. The three of you are the only ones left outside, and Steve had been explaining something that was going in one ear and out the other. “I think you two would get along.” Steve glances between the two of you like he’d just realized that Wanda hasn’t left yet, like she was invisible. Maybe she’d been wanting to fly under his radar, just able to watch you. “Would you like to meet him?”

You blink slowly and glance at Steve as if you’re asking permission. He holds up his hands and smiles a little bit, “I’m not your keeper, you can make your own decisions.”

“Pietro is nice,” Wanda nods, fidgeting with her fingers, “And you remind me of him sometimes. I think it would be a good friendship to have, especially after finding out what exactly you think of your situation.”

“I, personally, think Pietro would be the best kind of bad influence,” Steve’s smile is blinding as he nudges Wanda with his elbow, but there’s also something hiding behind it that you don’t understand. “Maybe he’ll get you out of your room more often.”

“Does Bucky like him?” You ask before you can stop yourself, “I don’t want to make… Anyone mad.” Wanda cocks her head, dark hair falling over her shoulders. She tsks once and then, when she speaks, her accent is thicker than it was before.

“Lyuba mayn, Bucky is going to be grumpy no matter who you’re spending time with. If he had his way he would keep you to himself - and Steve.” She giggles and cuts a sideways glance at Steve’s quickly reddening face. “Still, he will be tired after his mission, but he eats dinner with me in our room after. It’s easier to keep our kitchen kosher instead of trying to have our own utensils in the team’s kitchen. Would you like to join us for dinner?" She reaches for your hand but hesitates - you can practically see your memories flashing in her eyes. "Pietro and I will join the others for the movie, of course."

"I don't know Wan… I think we could all use some rest after that." Steve worries his lip between his teeth, glancing between you and the brunette still reaching out for you.

"What's more restful than breaking bread with friends?" She slaps her hand on her thigh and turns to Steve with fiery eyes. "Besides, the two of you aren't the only ones who can understand the trauma there." They hold eye contact in a way that makes your hackles rise because they're clearly communicating in a way that teammates do and it's obviously about you. You grind your teeth, fists flexing at your sides. Wanda smirks and breaks eye contact with Steve in favor of taking a step toward you. "What do you say?"

"Does he know what I've done?"

Finally, the pity rolls over Wanda's expression and you can see Steve tense up, jaw hard as he glances away. "Of course he does, lyuba mayn. He's the one that told me to invite you to dinner so that he could meet you. We are not so innocent either." You let her take your hand, focusing your eyes on the glint of silver resting against her sternum to ground yourself.

"I… Will go, if it's allowed." Your skin burns where Wanda is touching you, but the fire travels down your spine under Steve's gaze. He's inspecting you - that's the only word for the way he's looking at you. Does he not trust you? Should you decline, eat dinner with the team so you can scurry back to your cell after? You look back towards Wanda, "Or, maybe, I could just…"

"Ignore Steve," She throws a smug look over her shoulder at him and you watch a blush rise over his skin from underneath his suit. "He and Bucky just want to be your friend so badly because they feel like they will be the best at it."

You blink dumbly at her for only a second. Your friend? That hadn't even crossed your mind. Steve huffs out a sign, hands low on his hips as he cranes his neck away from the two of you. "Wanda…"

"We do have the most in common," You frown, "The three of us are all enhanced, we've all had scuffs with Hydra, and we've all fought in a war nobody else fought in." Wanda grins slyly when you shrug.

"All of the more reason for us to steal you away and become your friends as well."

You shower before heading to Wanda and Pietro's apartment and choose the biggest sweater you currently own. It doubles as something to keep you warm as your body tries to recoup from the afternoon and also as a form of protection. The fabric draping over your shoulders and torso hides the bulk of your body and the sleeves are so large you can hold a ball of fabric in your fists with some still left over. It's nice to dig your fingernails into when you get overwhelmed or nervous - plus its fire-resistant and water-wicking. Natasha had explained both of them to you and you'd asked for most of your wardrobe to be made in those fabrics.

You're chewing gently on the cuff when Wanda comes to your room to get you, still smiling and bouncing slightly on her feet. "He's home!" She reaches out and tugs on one of your sleeves, "Pietro is very excited to meet you."

"I'm excited to meet him," You say because that's what people say, "Where has he been?"

"Undercover," She tugs on your sleeve once but then leaves you to walk next to her, "He prefers to stay out of the media, despite how he acts around here. People know my face and most of the other’s faces… But Piet has done very well in keeping a low profile, as they say." There’s more of a bounce in her step as she takes you to where she lives with her twin brother. After you parted ways before your shower, Steve mentioned that Pietro is a ‘good kid’ but also that he’s quick to act and a little short of thought. It makes you nervous, but weirdly enough the good kind of nervous. Everyone else is so… Soft around you and, for someone who spent a lot of time in militant training or around military folk… Soft feels an awful lot like you’re not only delicate, but pathetic too. You don’t blame them because in some regards you are delicate, fragile, and other synonyms for broken. But in some regards, you’ll never be able to put yourself back together stronger if you’re never allowed to break.

Wanda turns to smile at you just before she lets you into her apartment. “Don’t be nervous, really, he’ll love you.”

“If you say so, Wanda.” You shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. Squeezing the cuffs of your sweater helps ground you and prevents your nails from biting deep into the meat of your palms. Just before she fully pushes the door open, Wanda tracks something just above your head.

“You don’t have to meet him, y’know. We’ll be just fine doing introductions at the next dinner.” When you shake your head she telegraphs her movements until she’s flapping her hands around your shoulders. “Could have fooled me that you’re ready to meet him. There’s smoke coming from your collar.” The heat had been building around your ribs and stomach, but you’d brushed it off as hesitancy or maybe even fear. When she points out the smoke you realize that you’re actually feeling a fire fueled by that fear curling around your midsection protectively. In a blink you extinguish it, thankful that Natasha had sprung for the fire-resistant clothing. Wanda turns away from you and flounces into the apartment as you pinch the fabric of your sweater between your fingers and fan it out, hoping to get rid of the smoke altogether. It clings to you like the campfires you used to make when you were sent out of the Underground. By the time you follow Wanda in and close the door behind you, she’s already in the kitchen chattering with someone in another language.

It’s something with Slavic roots but it sounds like plenty of Germanic borrowed words. You can’t even begin to grasp what country it’s from, let alone decipher what they’re saying. Wanda gestures to you just as you come around the corner, saying something with your name mixed in the middle of it. For being twins, Pietro and Wanda only look vaguely related. They both have high cheekbones set on their round faces, both have sharp brown eyes. Pietro’s dyed his hair blond instead of Wanda’s dark brown hair, but it’s clearly grown out an inch or two to be shaggy around his ears. He looks relaxed, but you can see that underneath that facade he’s tense in his casual, lounging clothes. Pietro steps forward and extends a hand to you, speaking in a thick accent. “It is nice to meet you finally. I can finally put a face to the lyuba mayn my sister tells me about.” His hand is strong, agitated or maybe threatened by your presence in his sister’s life. If you were him, though, you’d be agitated by your presence too.

“I can’t say I’ve heard a lot about you,” He drops your hand and steps back to the counter, resting his hips against it and crossing his arms. Wanda sits on the counter grinning happily and swinging her feet. “But that’s understandable when you’ve been on a mission.”

“Ah,” Pietro nods and relaxes a fraction, “Yes. After my sister and I were… Acquired by and invited to join the Avengers, I’ve been doing work in Sokovia to quell the unrest there.” He sighs before gesturing to the stove to his right. “I’ve made kreplach for dinner if you’re joining us. They’re almost done cooking, I just have to make sure that they don’t stick.”

You blink, following his hand to the stove where there’s a pot of water boiling softly. “You’ve been doing work in… Sokovia?”

Wanda’s eyes widen and she laughs, light and carefree. “Oh, yes. Sokovia is a relatively small and new country. Perhaps past your time above ground.”

“You’ve never heard of Sokovia?” Pietro seems overly confused as he turns to prod at the food in the water with a wooden spoon, “Strange. We have been in the news a lot for the past ten to fifteen years. The team heads there a lot now because there is a lot of Burning Staff activity. I’m sure you’ll see it soon.”

“But not any of the good parts,” Wanda complains, seemingly falling into the role of sister faster than you thought, “Only the shitty parts with shitty people.” You can sense Pietro rolling his eyes. “Did you not read the file I sent you?” Your hackles raise at the thought that your file is being sent around, but you understand why it is. You wonder how much information is inside of it and how much they left out.

Pietro scoffs and turns off the stove. “No, I did not read the file. If malen’kaya lapa wants me to know, I will be told.” You know those words and shuffle. The Maximoff twins are very liberal with their nicknames - first Wanda labels you my love before she uses your name and now her brother is calling you little paw. “It’s basic respect, Walentya.”

Before you can stop yourself, you take a step forward to watch Pietro scoop the kreplach equally into three bowls. “Walentya?” You ask, finally smelling the broth as he pours it over the pasta, “What does that mean?”

Pietro only glances at Wanda over his shoulder and she sighs. “Walentya is my name. I chose Wanda when I came to America.” You’d heard of people doing that - mostly the refugees during the war so that they would be safe in America more than if they kept their birth names. Wanda doing that is a little confusing because you assumed that she’s safe here, with her friends, more than anywhere else.

“Oh. So you chose Pietro when she chose Wanda?”

He laughs, bright and happy, the final dregs of tension wisping away from his shoulders. Pietro digs around in a cutlery drawer at the same time he pulls three glasses down from a cupboard. “No, no. I would rather sit on a tack than call myself something like Peter.” He turns back around to hand you an empty glass, his nose wrinkled. “I tried to convince Walentya not to change her name, but she's not one to… How is it said?" He looks to his sister, rubbing his chin with squinting eyes as he searches for the translation. "Ah, she is not one to be led by the nose."

“I feel… More comfortable with an Americanized name. Pietro has always been better at fitting in,” Wanda cuts in to explain, “He is louder and more boisterous.”

“You seem to fit in just fine,” You frown as you accept the large bowl of kreplach, the serving bowl warm against your frigid palms. It’s just enough to remind you that you can’t lose control, not here, even though you’re so nervous. “The team likes you.”

“The team likes you too,” She volleys back, swinging her dark hair over her shoulder to move from the kitchen and into the dining room, “But you’re unfortunately convinced that your room is a cell and that we’re your Handlers.” Pietro’s steps, to his credit, only stutter a little bit. He sits across from you while Wanda takes the head of the table and doesn’t do a very good job of keeping his surprise off of his face. His eyebrows have crept up to hide underneath the shaggy bangs that hover just above his eyes. You pointedly ignore the way that the Maximoff twins are looking at you in favor of eating your kreplach. “See, Pietro, you two are alike!”

“You think that anyone who comes to this place the way that we did is like me,” He grumbles around a mouthful of food, “Besides, malen’kaya lapa is a tad too shy to be anything like me.” You chew slowly as Pietro’s eyes darken, twitching between your slouched form and Wanda’s blase, casual eating. His face darkens to what seems like an unnatural degree for a man you’ve only just met. “How did you come here, malen’kiy dukh? I would like to know.”

Little Ghost. That’s more fitting for you than Little Paw. He watches you as he eats - he must be enhanced like Wanda because he’s eating the same amount of kreplach that you and his sister are without blinking. You take a long sip of water to put off answering but there’s only so much that you can do to procrastinate. “I… Was found.” You finally decide to start at the beginning of your new life, not your old one. “I was found in the ice where Captain Rogers was found because I froze myself there, trying to escape from the Underground and my Handlers with the Program that they executed on me. I was trying to save Sergeant Barnes from going through the same thing.”

“I am sorry,” Pietro says quietly, “You did not make it?”

Setting your fork down you shake your head. Your stomach is rolling now, lights flashing at the corners of your eyes in warning because your heart is racing too. It feels like the room is spinning around you. “I am here now because I am very powerful,” It feels like a sin to admit it, “And I know a lot about the Underground - things the Avengers need to know.” You swallow thickly and try to smile, but it’s weak at best. “Now I’m stuck here in this time that is very confusing with the weight of everything I’ve done on my back.” Wanda, surprising you, reaches out and touches your forearm with lithe fingers to comfort you without overwhelming you. Pietro sighs and nods but then he sets his fork down and leans back, seeming to chew on his words before he speaks.

“I understand,” His voice is lower and accent thicker than before, “More than you know. Steve and Bucky maybe more than I,” He gestures lackadaisical;y with his hands and then shrugs, “But it is not a race, yes? Before we were here and the people you see sitting in front of you, Walentya and I were in Sokovia and desperate. Our parents were killed in a bombing.”

You frown, crossing your arms and digging your thumbs into the seams of your cuffs to ground yourself. It takes everything in you not to lose control but it’s becoming harder and harder not to burst into flames or start a cyclone like the one in the interrogation room. “I’m sorry.” Wanda smiles but doesn’t say anything more.

“We have done our healing,” He nods, “It still hurts, but it will always hurt. The bombing was carried out by the United States. For three days we looked at a dud shell in our apartment with Tony Stark’s name on it.” Your breath catches in your throat. You’d known, of course, of the things that Tony’s father had been involved in. For Christ’s sake - Howard had bought you from the Handlers just to shove you face-first into a war that you hadn’t even known about. Then, when your usefulness was up, he gave you back. But Tony? The worst you’d seen from him is the vitriolic hate that he has for you.

The hate you see every single time that you catch your reflection in the mirror. “Why are you here?” You finally ask, throat raw and quiet, “If Tony Stark killed your parents?”

“Tony did not do it,” Wanda finally cuts in, shaking her head, “Not in the way that you are thinking. Tony used to make weapons and sell them to the military. They were used in the bombing of Sokovia meant to destabilize our government in order for the CIA to input a newer, more American-friendly leader.”

“We took that,” Pietro picks the story up and carries it like he’s reading Wanda’s mind, “And we internalized it.” He touches his fingertips to his sternum, finally looking away from you. “We were some of the faces of the biggest riots in the country. It was not until later that we learned they were Hydra driven. Speak about being lead by the nose, huh?” He chuckles wryly. You haven’t been told a lot about Hydra, but they sound just like the Handlers. Bucky mostly shies away from conversations about Hydra, either changing the subject or leaving the room altogether. “We did a lot of things for our country. Things I do not regret.”

“And neither do I.”

Pietro continues after a deep sigh. “We were used as tools for years. A man approached us, wanted us to help usurp the soldiers in our country from the US. It was an occupation - my feelings on that have not changed. We went with them; I was ready to die for Sokovia and I convinced Walentya to come with me, to lay down her life.” His voice gets tight, but Pietro pushes on. It’s like he’s confessing his sins more than telling a story. You feel like you’re looking in a mirror, at a person broken down to their raw components of every single thing that they regret doing and every single thing they’d do all over again, consequences be damned. “We were taken and changed. The Avengers call it enhanced, but I have only changed for good a little bit. Now I am fighting on a side I know is at least genuine. Being in America is… Hard. The US does a lot of things I do not agree with. But I do more good here than in my home country, which is still rife with crumbling infrastructure and corrupt politics.”

The silence hangs heavy over the three of you. “Have you… Ever killed someone?” The twins laugh, looking at each other like neither of them expected you to actually ask. But you need to know. There are a lot of similarities between Pietro, Wanda, and you. You need to know that, maybe, when they wash their hands or take a shower sometimes they see the slick blood on their palms and finger pads. Sometimes they can’t wash it off because it’s not really there, but it is - just soaked into the skin so deep it won’t come out.

“Of course, we have,” Wanda says softly, “For Sokovia, for Hydra, and now for the Avengers.”

“It is never easy,” Pietro says, eyes softening. He goes from looking troubled to looking at you exactly like Wanda looks at you. “Taking a life. I regret every single one. But sometimes there are not choices. Between my sister’s life and the life of a stranger… Well, there’s no competition.”

“And I will always choose Pietro. Over everyone, even my friends here.” Wanda pats your arm, “We try to lower the casualties of missions as much as possible, with tranquilizer bullets instead of lethal rounds, but you must know that in war death is inevitable, no?”

“Of course I know,” You reply without thinking, “Fighting in wars is what I was made for - living like this is still foreign to me.” The twins sigh at the same time, Pietro picking up his fork again.

“Eat your kreplach, malen’kiy dukh. We will become friends before we share any more secrets, yes?”

You’re washing your hands just before bed when it happens again. You stifle your scream and stumble backward into the wall, clutching your hands at your sides as you watch the spout drip thick, viscous blood. It’s not real. It’s not real! It can’t be real. Blood doesn’t come from plumbing, water does. It can’t be blood. You clench your eyes shut, trying to breathe over the jackrabbiting of your heart in your chest and the burning in your lungs and throat. It’s not blood, it’s not blood.

You nearly jump out of your skin when someone knocks on your door this late at night in the middle of your panic. Instead the water - water! Not blood! - coming from the spout evaporates as the temperature spikes around you and the shower door rattles angrily with a strong gust of wind. Breathing heavily, you answer your door on shaky knees. It’s Steve, face grim with his phone in his hand.

“We need you in the debrief room. There’s been… Activity relating to you lately. We don’t know what it means and we can’t find it in your notes.”

the fragments that stick with you

the ones you really feel

those parts aren't real

#dark in here #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes imagine #stucky x reader #stucky/reader #mcu imagine #marvel imagine

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notesfromnowhere · 1 month ago

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"Creating Comfort: My Journey in Room Decoration"😻

Decorating my room has always been a personal journey, reflecting my taste , style , interests, personality, and passions . Over time, I’ve managed to transform my room into a cozy space that feels uniquely mine. Here’s a detailed look at how I transformed my room into a vibrant, cozy and inviting space.❤

Finding Inspiration 💟

The journey began with inspiration. I explored Pinterest and Instagram, took notes on what connected with me. I realized I was drawn to give my room an aesthetic look which will feel natural to me. Keeping in mind these ideas , I set out to create a coordinated look that felt both personal and inviting.

Colour Palette ❤🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤💖💗💓🤍

With the ideas in mind, I selected a colour palette. I wanted a scheme that would create a warm and welcoming environment . After much deliberation, I settled on the combination of white🤍 and pink 💗together. White will bring a sense of purity, cleanliness, and simplicity and Pink will add warmth and delicacy. Together, they produce an inviting atmosphere and the best choice for my space intended to relax .

Furniture Selection 🪑🛏

Coming to furniture , I aimed for stuff that were both functional and stylish. I placed an iron bed frame that creates an aesthetic look and is quite affordable and easy to maintain . I also added an open wardrobe rack as it created a visually appealing display . I organized my clothes by colour making it easier to find what I need.

Lighting 💡⚡

Lighting plays a crucial role in setting the mood. I opted for warm, soft lighting to create a cozy atmosphere. A string of fairy lights draped across the curtains and mirror to give it a graceful look and a bedside minimal lamp that serves as both a functional light source and a stylish decor piece. I set up curtains on the pink and white theme to soften the look of the room .

Personal and Final Touches💟✨

The finishing touches made all the difference . To make my room truly feel like my own, I knew I had to include personal touches. I added custom neon sign indicating self-love 💗and also a few inspirational quotes to the wall. I incorporated scented candles🕯 that refines the overall atmosphere. A few carefully chosen decorative items, like a bunch of plushies 🧸 added sweetness and warmth, and few other random decorative items of pink colors. And i just added one more thing that i have loved since my childhood, and it holds a great significance in my heart, it is a dreamcatcher, almost identical as the one i had gotten as a first ever birthday gift from my brother.💟🎀

Conclusion 😸

Decorating my room has been a fulfilling journey of self-expression and love. Each element contributes to the overall vibe of my space. Now, my room is more than just a place to sleep, It’s the space where I can relax and recharge . If you’re considering a room makeover, remember to take your time, experiment with different styles and make it a reflection of who you are. Happy decorating ! 😊

Inspirations

Results

#decor #interiors #pink #room #room decor #room design #lamps #pink and white #fairy lights #dreamcatcher

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bj-blazkowicz · 2 years ago

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(forwarded to this blog from my main)

of course! i talk a lot about firearms because they're a hot button issue and misinformation about them is dangerous, but firearms are by no means the most important component of defense. they're not even strictly necessary; they help but you're not doomed if you aren't in a position to incorporate them into your life.

the general anatomy of personal safety comes in a hierarchy of priorities:

1. avoiding being put into dangerous confrontations.

2. (where prevention is not feasible) escaping dangerous confrontations that are in progress.

3. (where escape is not feasible) ending dangerous confrontations that are in progress.

it is important to note that the one thing that helps you in all three situations is community. the buddy system works wonders. if you are at risk, run errands with a friend/loved one. if you must go somewhere dubious alone, tell your nearby support system where and when you should be back, so it is apparent immediately if something is wrong. get to learn your neighbors' names, learn who is going to have your back and who could use your help.

here are my general tips for self-defense based on this model of danger:

when it comes to escaping a confrontation, a big part of this is de-escalation. do not escalate or attempt to aggravate someone who is behaving in a threatening manner. do not play the role of an active participant; someone who is going to give an attacker the confrontation that they want. use neutral body language, signal to your support system that you need help, call for help if necessary, and just get the fuck out of there. never underestimate the power of shouting and running.

when it comes to ending a dangerous confrontation, the key word is ending, not winning. you're not trying to win a fight, you're trying to get back to your life. escape is still the priority, do not stick around to 'defeat' your attacker or whatever. the use of lethal weapons is deeply discouraged when you have access to deterrents. pain deterrents such as mace, pepper spray, etc. can buy you the time necessary to get help or escape, and are far easier to carry on your person than a lethal weapon. additionally, i highly recommend carrying a rechargeable LED flashlight on you at all times. modern tech has resulted in a market saturated with affordable flashlights that pack a serious amount of lumens, and fit right in your pocket. i often forget i even have my streamlight on me, it's that comfortable to carry. and while light is an obvious resource in other situations, such as power outages or night chores, light is a key resource to self-defense. you have to see what is going on in order to address it. a nighttime aggressor may be relying on the anonymity and disorienting nature of dark surroundings to have the upper hand, and may likely be deterred by the presence of a bright light, but also most LED lights these days put out enough lumens to disorient a creep even before it gets all that dark out. getting hit directly in the retinas by a 600+ lumen flashlight at night fucking wrecks your ability to see and act. remember, disorienting an attacker long enough to get help or get out will save your skin way better than a weapon will.

it is pivotal that you practice situational awareness if you are worried about an environment posing a threat. keep your eyes on the area and off your phone. know your exits, and stick to areas that won't isolate you with a potential aggressor. keep your car/house keys handy. keep your phone handy if you need to make a call.

self-defense courses seem like an obvious point to make here, but i want to stress that the value of knowing what to expect in a confrontation is without peer. dry runs with an instructor can help you to know how to use your body to react in a split second situation; a skill many take for granted. if you want to full-on learn a martial art, that's awesome! martial arts are very good for you in a lot of different ways. but if you're worried about self-defense, be sure to stress learning how to use your body to escape/end a confrontation more than turning it into some sparring match. it's a completely different skill entirely but equally worth acquainting yourself with.

hope that helps! i try to discourage the act of 'buying' safety but a good light and some pain deterrent like pepper spray are relatively affordable compliments to the know-how that saves lives. i also recommend assembling a first-aid kit and learning how to perform first-aid. if you're going to buy a pre-made kit, that's fine, but take the time to learn every component in there and how to use it to save lives. keep one in your car, in your house, your bag if you go out, and routinely practice and review first-aid techniques.

#ask #advice #self-defense

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kallie-den · 1 year ago

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Lifestyle Journalism Ch. 2

Emma is a journalist investigating abuses of mind control, but when she encounters Amara, a personal trainer with ties to the elite, she finds her intelligence and her career slipping away. Will her friend Mel’s warnings reach her in time? And who is really behind Amara?

Chapter 1

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A little over a week after Emma’s first encounter with Amara Rodriguez, she once again found herself stepping into the personal trainer’s apartment. Amara greeted her, as ever, with a warm, friendly, encouraging smile.

“Hey, Emma!” she said brightly. “Ready to work up a sweat?”

“You know it!” Emma replied, just as brightly. She followed Amara into her home gym and immediately started changing into the bright pink workout outfit Amara had lent her.

This was the fourth time she’d come to see Amara, and already, it was all becoming a habit. She showed up, got changed, asked Amara a few questions, worked out, and left. Emma wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It wasn’t supposed to be a habit, after all. Her interview with Amara should have been a one-time thing. But somehow, every time, she ended up exhausted and disoriented, struggling to remember what she had been meaning to ask. She barely remembered the second half of any of their sessions. It was getting frustrating.

But it wasn’t all bad. Amara seemed happy to keep meeting up with her - just as long as Emma kept up their bargain. Exercise in exchange for questions. Even that was starting to feel like a win-win. The day after her first session with Amara, Emma’s body had ached like hell, but after a week, the benefits of regular exercise had already started to appear. She felt more energetic, less sore, and more confident. Mel’s home-cooked dinners were helping with that too, probably. As it turned out, a healthy lifestyle felt pretty great!

Emma didn’t even mind that she was struggling so much with her investigation into abuses of mind control and hypnosis in the city’s fitness scene. Somehow, whenever she sat down and tried to focus on her work, she ended up feeling far too light-headed and distracted to make any real progress. Muckraking was starting to feel boring, somehow, and whenever she reviewed her notes at the end of the day, they were always riddled with typos and mistakes.

That should have been eating at her, but… it wasn’t. Emma just felt good. It was irrepressible. Perhaps it was the power of exercise. Perhaps she was simply warming to the idea of taking a break from her work, as Mel had proposed. Either way, Emma wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“OK, Emma.” Amara clapped her hands; Emma knew that meant they were ready to get started. “How are you feeling?”

“Good!” Emma replied, truthfully. “I think I’m getting the hang of this whole exercise thing. I actually went out for a morning jog yesterday.”

“That’s great! I’m proud of you.” Amara smiled. “We’ll make a regular gym bunny out of you in no time. Although, it would be remiss of me not to mention that, if you truly want to level up your exercise game, there’s one thing that really does the trick: hypnosis.”

A shiver ran down Emma’s spine. “Yeah?”

“It’s what most people pay me for,” Amara told her, smiling. “And it’s part of my regular service. Hypnosis is great for self-improvement. It makes it easier to focus. Easier to push yourself. If you wanted to, I’d love to start incorporating it into your workouts.”

“I… I dunno.”

Emma found herself a lot more indecisive than she would have been a week earlier. She was a lot more alert than the average person to the dangers of being hypnotized by a stranger, but Amara didn’t feel like a stranger. Emma trusted her. In particular, she trusted her exercise advice. Maybe hypnosis would be a big help. It wasn’t like every single hypnotist in the world was some rich asshole trying to turn people into helpless drones, after all.

But there was something else. Another factor, putting its finger on the scales: Emma had started finding hypnosis incredibly, incredibly hot.

Hypnosis wasn’t exactly an uncommon kink. Far from it. Given how the rich and elite wielded it as a tool of power, it was an easy thing for people of a certain persuasion to end up fetishizing. That was new to Emma, though. Somehow, recently, whenever she was blowing off some steam in private, she found her thoughts turning in that direction.

She couldn’t stop thinking about how it would feel to slip under someone’s hypnotic spell. The particular fantasy that kept haunting Emma was all about having the smarts and quick-thinking she was so proud of stripped out of her head, and being turned into one of those dim-witted, brainwashed bimbos that sometimes clung to the arms of powerful hypnotists. She fantasized about being stared at, posed, and put through the motions of dancing, or exercising, or performing, always while she was naked, or else wearing something pink and skintight.

It was embarrassing. But it also made her cum like nothing else, and a tiny little part of her was shivering in anticipation at the thought of finding out what hypnosis actually felt like.

“It’s OK if you don’t want to,” Amara added. “I know you’re wary, and that’s totally understandable. I won’t push it on you. It’s just that I think it could really help, especially with the concentration problems you keep having with our interview.”

Emma blinked and looked at her. “It could help with that?”

“Of course,” Amara assured her. “There’s nothing like hypnosis for giving you a little clarity of mind.”

That was all the excuse Emma needed to succumb to temptation. She remained a little skeptical but, deep down, part of her wanted to give hypnosis a shot. She wanted to indulge this new desire of hers. If it did help with her work too, that was just a silver lining.

She’d just have to make sure Amara didn’t notice how aroused hypnosis was making her.

“OK,” Emma said, a touch breathlessly. “OK. Yeah. Let’s give it a shot.”

Amara reached over and clapped her on her shoulder. “Atta girl.”

Emma blushed.

“So, um, what do you need me to do?” she asked, hoping to hide her embarrassment. “Do you have a pocket watch I should be staring at? A metronome? Do I look deep into your eyes?”

Amara laughed. “Only if you think they’re pretty. I like to do things a little differently. Have you heard of kinesthetic inductions?”

“Hypnosis with movement.” Emma nodded.

“That’s right,” Amara said. “Let me show you. Close your eyes.”

Emma was a little unprepared for how quickly things were moving, but nonetheless she obediently closed her eyes. A moment later, she felt Amara take her hand and lead her a few paces away, to stand on one of her exercise mats.

“Good,” Amara told her. “Now, focus on your body. Just like when you work out.”

Emma nodded. That was easy. Amara was even talking to her like she did when she was working out, in that voice that was so confident, so soothing, so easy to obey.

“Good,” Amara repeated. “I want you to visualize where you are right now. The room around you. The way you’re standing. The way I’m standing. Picture it all, in your mind’s eye. Can you do that?”

Emma nodded again. “In your apartment,” she murmured. “In your gym. You’re holding my hand.”

“Very good,” Amara said. “Keep your eyes close. I want you to notice the way that, already, your mental image is starting to fade. We forget things so quickly with our eyes shut. Where exactly are you standing? What’s right in front of you? Which exercise machine is that, over there in the corner? Maybe you remember. Maybe not.”

As soon as Amara mentioned it, Emma’s mind’s eye was starting to blur. Where was she standing? Amara had guided her to walk a short distance with her eyes closed. How many steps? How far had she moved? She wasn’t quite sure.

Emma started to feel a little dizzy. She squeezed down tighter on Amara’s hand.

“I’m here,” Amara said soothingly. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

She reached out and rested a hand on Emma’s side, steadying her. An immediate wave of calm washed over Emma. Amara’s touch was familiar. She was used to Amara touching her and guiding her when the personal trainer was showing her how to exercise properly.

This was no different. She just had to let Amara guide her.

Amara tugged gently at her hand, and Emma took careful, tentative steps after her, moving where she was guided. With each step, it became more difficult to picture exactly where she was standing, and, with that reference point gone, everything else started to dissolve into mist.

“It’s getting harder to picture, isn’t it?” Amara seemed like she could read Emma’s mind. “That’s OK. I want you to simply let that happen, Emma. Take some deep breaths, and let your mental image of this room fade away.”

Emma did her best to obey. Once she accepted what was going to happen, it all started to fade away much, much faster. Soon, Amara’s touch was her only lifeline.

“It’s only natural,” Amara continued. “Images fade. Memory fades, and it’s OK to forget. Forgetting means less distractions. Less distractions means it’s easier to stay focused. And we want you nice and focused, don’t we Emma?”

“Yeah.”

Emma nodded too. That was a mistake. Nodding triggered a wave of dizziness. She felt like she was about to lose her balance and stumble, but Amara steadied her - this time, by placing her hand firmly on the top of Emma’s head.

“Focus, Emma,” Amara encouraged. “It’s OK. You’re not going to fall over. I’ve got you. Nice, deep, calming breaths.”

“OK.”

Amara’s words were already having a deep effect on Emma. As soon as Amara told her to be calm, she was calm. Emma realized she was rapidly slipping under hypnosis. That thought excited her, making her heart race even as her breathing slowed.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Amara repeated. “Look around, in your mind’s eye. What do you see?”

Emma made one last attempt to reconstruct the room around her. She failed. It was gone. She simply didn’t know where she was, where Amara was, where anything was - and without those reference points, it felt like the walls around her had all receded into infinity, leaving her standing in a void.

“Nothing,” Emma replied. Her voice sounded like it was coming from very far away.

“That’s right,” Amara said. “There’s nothing. Where are you? Where are you, that there’s nothing?”

It took Emma a long time to answer that question. “I’m… nowhere?”

That didn’t seem right, but it felt right.

“You’re nowhere,” Amara confirmed for her. Amara’s voice seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, and unlike Emma’s, it was intimate and close. “And all this nowhere? All this nothing? It’s all inside your head.”

“Yeah…” Emma breathed. She felt so much more empty.

“There’s nothing inside your head.”

“Nothing… inside my head…” Emma echoed dreamily.

“And when you’re nothing and nowhere,” Amara continued, “there’s no up.”

She used her hand to tilt Emma’s head upwards. The sensation of her orientation changing was disorienting, but strangely, Emma didn’t feel dizzy. She had Amara. Amara was her anchor.

“There’s no down.” Amara tilted her head down. “There’s no left. There’s no right.”

As Amara moved Emma’s head around, Emma was haunted by the phantom sensation that she was spinning, even though she knew she wasn’t. She was standing still, in place. But the spinning wouldn’t stop.

“And if there’s nothing,” Amara went on, “if you’re nowhere, then there’s nothing beneath your feet at all, is there?”

“N-no,” Emma whispered.

The void was deepening. Maybe she was spinning after all. She didn’t know. She couldn’t tell. There was nothing.

“And that means,” Amara concluded, “there’s nothing to stop your fall.”

Before Emma could comprehend the meaning of her words, she felt Amara rest a hand on her chest and push. Hard.

Emma fell backward, far too disoriented to catch herself. She was nowhere and nothing. She was spinning, and there was nothing beneath her feet. Nothing to catch her fall. Even as her brain screamed at her that she was falling, Emma turned as limp as a rag doll. To her, she was simply falling into a void, and the void went on forever and ever.

She never hit the ground. Amara was right there to catch her, wrapping up the journalist in her powerful arms and supporting her entire weight. But for Emma, the sensation of falling never stopped. It went on and on. There was no end to it. Nothing. She simply kept sinking.

Carefully, Amara tipped her back upright. Emma found her footing again, but only by instinct. Her head was blank.

“Open your eyes,” Amara instructed.

Emma obeyed, blinking a few times as she was dazzled by the sudden brightness. Having her eyes open did nothing to stop the sensation of infinite falling. Her vision was strangely distorted; it was like she was looking at Amara from down a very long telescope. Everything besides the personal trainer was indistinct; out of focus.

“You know that you’re completely hypnotized now,” Amara told her. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Emma answered. An electric shiver raced down her spine.

“Good.” Amara was smiling. “This is what falling feels like, Emma. Falling into trance. I want you to memorize it for me. And whenever I tell you to ‘fall’, it’ll all come rushing back. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” Amara clapped her hands together sharply. “OK, Emma. Time for our interview.”

Emma blinked again, the loud noise helping to shock her back to awareness. But the sensation of falling was still there in the pit of her stomach, and the void that had been all around her was now inside her head. It was all so strange. Could she really interview someone like this?

Amara had said it would help, though. Emma couldn’t muster enough willpower to disagree.

“O-OK.” Emma set her hypnotized mind to the task of trying to come up with a question. “Um…”

“Why not start with something nice and casual?” Amara suggested. “Just to get warmed up.”

“Right.” Emma was grateful for the advice, but she still found herself drawing a blank. Her thoughts were unbelievably sluggish, and the simple knowledge that she was hypnotized right now was a thrilling distraction. “Like… uh…”

Amara laughed gently. “Why don’t you ask me my favorite color?”

As soon as Amara suggested it, it clicked into Emma’s head as the perfect question. “What’s your favorite color?”

Amara tilted her head to one side, amused. “Pink.”

Emma blinked. She’d never seen Amara wear pink; her workout clothes were always black. “Really? I’m surprised.”

“Pink is just such a lovely, bright color,” Amara explained. “I love looking at it. Don’t you? Doesn’t it just make you feel happy? Bubbly? Full of energy? It’s perfect for working out.”

Emma nodded, eagerly absorbing Amara’s words. Clearly, she had been right about hypnosis. Concentrating on what Amara told her was proving effortless.

“Just look at you, in those pink clothes,” Amara added. “You seem a lot happier whenever you put those on. It puts a smile on your face. Maybe even makes you a little giggly. Pink is great.”

Again, Emma nodded. She felt like she knew exactly what Amara was talking about.

“How about you?” Amara asked. “Got a favorite color?”

Emma was surprised by the question. She’d never really thought about it before. But one obvious answer came immediately to mind.

“Pink,” Emma replied, still in that distant, vacant tone of voice.

Pink made her happy. Pink made her bubbly. Pink made her full of energy. It made her smile and giggle.

“Oh?” Amara cocked an eyebrow. “Guess I nailed it with your workout gear. Looks like we won’t need to find you anything else after all.”

“Right,” Emma agreed. Pink was perfect. Why would she need an outfit that wasn’t pink?

“Next question?” Amara prompted.

“Yeah.” This time, Emma tried her hardest to come up with something. She couldn’t let Amara give her all the questions. That would be embarrassing. “Um… what… what do you like so much about exercise?”

It was lame, she knew. Another softball. But better than nothing.

“That’s easy,” Amara answered. “There’s so much to love about it. It’s good for you, right? Exercise is very healthy, and I love feeling healthy. Who wouldn’t? Who doesn’t love knowing that they’re giving their body the best? Not just exercise - diet, too.”

That made perfect sense. Emma nodded.

“Just look at you, for example,” Amara went on. “I can tell how much better you feel, now that you’ve been living a healthier lifestyle. I’m sure you can too, deep down. Regular exercise, better meals… it’s honestly a little bit addictive.”

Her words struck a chord with Emma. It was like she couldn’t even imagine Amara being wrong. She could feel it too. Addictive.

“And the raw sensation of exercise? That’s definitely addictive,” Amara added. “It’s physiological. All those endorphins, bubbling up in your brain while you work out. I just can’t get enough of it.”

Emma nodded eagerly. She’d noticed that as well.

“It makes it so easy not to think. Overthinking is such a problem, isn’t it?” Emma nodded emphatically at that. “It’s so hard to ever truly shut our brains off. Thinking too much causes so much anxiety. So many problems. Sometimes, it’s nice to make ourselves dumb instead.”

Emma shivered. Something about the word ‘dumb’ echoed deliciously through her body.

“I can imagine it’s the same for you,” Amara suggested. “It must be nice for a brainy journalist like you to stop thinking for a change.”

“Oh yeah,” Emma replied, with genuine enthusiasm. “It’s… it’s nice to be dumb.”

“Yeah?” Amara’s smile curled. “You like getting dumber?”

“Getting dumber feels good.” The words came to Emma’s lips effortlessly, like a mantra. And there it was again - that delicious shiver.

She was starting to love being hypnotized. After all, hypnosis made her dumber.

“Good.” Amara laughed gently. “But that’s not all, you know. I also love the attention.”

Emma’s ears perked up. “The attention?”

Amara nodded. “Absolutely. Working out gets you a lot of attention. Who doesn’t love a girl who’s in good shape?”

She flexed slightly, demonstrating. Emma’s eyes widened.

“But,” Amara added, like it was an afterthought, “you must already know all about that.”

Emma was sure she didn’t. “What do you mean?”

“You love attention, don’t you?” Amara said. “After all, you’re a journalist. Journalism is all about being in the public eye, right? Getting readers? Making big headlines?”

“I… guess.” Emma had never thought about it that way before, but she supposed Amara had a point. It did always feel good when one of her stories broke big. It was rewarding. “Yeah.”

“It’s natural,” Amara affirmed. “Attention feels good.”

“Yeah.” Emma was quickly growing more comfortable with that.

“You love attention.”

“Y-yeah,” Emma conceded. “I love attention.”

That brought forth another shiver of excitement. She was discovering so many new things to love recently.

“And exercising is a great way to get it.” Amara shrugged. “Well, there you have it, Emma. That’s why I love working out. Health, attention, and getting to dumb down a little.” She grinned. “I’m sensing you get what I’m talking about.”

Emma did. She really did. She understood Amara perfectly.

“Anyway, that’s probably enough warm-up,” Amara said. “How about you ask me one of your real questions, Emma?”

“O-oh! Um. Right.”

Emma frowned. Despite how focused she felt, she was still having trouble remembering what she was supposed to be asking Amara. Her head was swimming with fantasies and thoughts - about exercise, attention, hypnosis, and so much more. Her investigation was starting to feel like a distant priority.

Her investigation. It came back to her in a rush. Emma decided to go for the big question, now that she had hypnosis helping to sharpen her mind.

“I… I think that some personal trainers are exploiting people using hypnosis,” Emma said slowly. She needed to get this right - even if she still felt like she was falling. “Using the pretext of exercise to turn them into perfect, brainwashed slaves for whoever is truly controlling them. Amara, have you ever mind-controlled someone against their will like that?”

She wasn’t expecting Amara to admit to anything, just hoping that she might volunteer some information, or give something away in how she reacted. The last thing Emma had expected was for Amara to answer:

“Yes. I’m doing it to you, right now.”

Emma twitched, alarmed. “E… excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Amara sounded deadly serious.

“That’s… that’s funny.” Emma giggled nervously.

“I’m not joking,” Amara insisted. “I’m brainwashing you against your will, right now.”

A shiver of danger raced down Emma’s spine. The sensation of falling that she was still feeling in the pit of her stomach turned much worse, and her head was throbbing with sudden vertigo.

“But…” Emma said, frowning. “You asked. I… I let you.”

“Yes,” Amara replied calmly. “That’s what you think. Because I made sure you’d think that way.”

“B… but…”

Emma felt like the floor was once again collapsing beneath her feet. She wanted to argue, but her thoughts kept turning back to one, deeply troubling question:

If Amara was telling the truth, how would she even know?

And the worst part was, she couldn’t run. She couldn’t fight. She couldn’t assert control.

She was hypnotized.

She was so deeply focused that all she could do was stare at Amara, dumbfounded, as Amara continued to reshape her reality.

“Fortunately,” Amara continued, “you don’t need to worry about it. Because you don’t really care.”

Emma frowned. How could Amara say that? Of course she cared! This was exactly the kind of thing her work was devoted to.

Amara noticed the way Emma was starting to twitch and shiver. “Calm down,” the personal trainer said soothingly. “Remember, Emma. This is just an interview.”

Somehow, that made perfect sense to Emma, and she was instantly calm. The obvious, glaring contradiction in her circumstances and her reactions didn’t even register with her.

“Right.” She replied dumbly. “Just an interview.”

Of course. She’d carried out hundreds of interviews. What was there to be so worked up about?

“Just an interview,” Amara repeated. “You know how interviews work, right? You ask the questions. I give you the answers.”

“Right,” Emma said again. It was obvious, when Amara explained it to her like that.

“I just gave you an answer,” Amara explained slowly. “Would you like to ask me a question about it?”

“Uh…” It took Emma a long moment to think of something. Even the events of a minute or two ago were becoming foggy. “Yeah. Yes. Um… why… why don’t I care?”

It felt like a very strange question. But it was the only one that seemed to fit, given the answer Amara had supplied her with.

“Well, let’s see,” Amara replied, smirking. “You told me that you came here for your investigation, but that was a week ago, and you keep coming back. You don’t seem to do a whole lot of journalism with me. You just spend most of your time here working out. Isn’t that right?”

Emma mentally reviewed their last few sessions. It was. “Yeah.”

“That’s where all your time and effort is going.” Amara nodded. “Working out. So, isn’t that what you’re really here for?”

Emma’s brow twitched, but Amara’s logic was undeniable. Or at least, she couldn’t make herself think quickly enough to find fault with it. “Yeah…”

“You’re really here to work out,” Amara affirmed, cementing that thought into Emma’s mind. “Not for your investigation.”

“Y-yeah…” Emma agreed, with only slight reluctance.

“So,” Amara concluded. “You care about working out. Not about your investigation. Not about your journalism.”

“I…” That was a harder pill to swallow. Emma’s head started to turn from side to side in instinctive denial. “I… don’t…”

“Relax, Emma,” Amara chided. “Remember. It’s just an interview. Relax, and fall.”

Emma fell. Emma was always falling, and once again, she was still.

“If you cared so much,” Amara told her, “wouldn’t you spend all your time interviewing me, instead of working out?”

“Yeah…” Emma agreed dreamily. It was so easy to accept what Amara told her. Much easier than thinking for herself. Hypnosis made her too dumb to think, and she was so deeply hypnotized.

“So,” Amara pressed. “You don’t care.”

“I… don’t… care.”

Hairs raised on the back of Emma’s neck as she finally agreed, warning her of the danger. But moments later, she felt amazingly free. It was like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She didn’t care.

“You don’t care about your investigation,” Amara repeated. “Not compared to working out, anyway.”

Emma nodded. It was getting easier to accept with each passing moment.

“And that’s why you don’t need to worry about being hypnotized,” Amara concluded. “About being brainwashed. It doesn’t matter to your investigation. You care about working out. And hypnosis is very, very good for helping you to work out.”

“Right,” Emma agreed. It all seemed so much simpler now, and she was grateful to Amara for explaining it to her. She was learning so much from this interview.

“Speaking of which,” Amara said, grinning. “I think it’s about time we get to the real reason you’re here.”

She reached up and clapped her hands together in front of Emma’s face. To the hypnotized journalist, the sharp, loud sound was like a thunderbolt, jolting her back to awareness. Immediately, the details of the conversation she and Amara had been having started to recede from memory - but that bubbly new lightness remained.

Emma didn’t care. She was just here to work out! It was such a relief.

“So how was hypnosis?” Amara asked.

“Great!” Emma replied brightly. She didn’t remember much of their interview, but that wasn’t very important.

Hypnosis was good for working out. And hypnosis made her dumber. And getting dumber felt good.

“Glad to hear it,” Amara said. “Ready to get down to business?”

Emma nodded. This was what she was here for. Her pretty, pink outfit was filling her with energy, and the knowledge of how healthy she was being put an extra spring in her step. She loved working out.

Especially because each exercise left her just a little bit dumber.

“Well, before we get started, I have an idea,” Amara said. “You’ve got your phone, right?”

“Sure.” Emma slipped her phone out of one of her pockets, before giggling absently. “I… don’t know why.”

She had a strange feeling that she’d brought her phone here to take notes on her interview with Amara, but that seemed silly. The interview wasn’t important. She was here to work out.

“Fortunately, I do,” Amara laughed. “Do you have an Instagram account?”

Emma nodded. She’d started it for her work, although it had more or less fallen into disuse. Which made sense, since she didn’t really care about her work very much.

“Time to put it to good use!” Amara mimed holding up a phone to take a high-angle selfie. “You love attention, right? Show your fans a nice peace sign!”

***

A couple of weeks later, Emma was in Mel’s apartment, working out. That was nothing unusual. Emma had ended up practically moving in with her best friend. It seemed to make sense - Mel had the space, enjoyed her company, and Emma was already obligated to be there every evening for dinner. Why bother heading back to her own place each night?

The exercise was normal too, now. Emma’s thrice-weekly sessions with Amara were no longer enough. Not even close. Working out had become an obsession for Emma, and accordingly, she had taken up jogging, bought an exercise mat and a set of home dumbbells, and had a whole series of exercise routines she kept to diligently, morning and night.

Working out was her calling. Emma understood that now. It felt good, on so many levels. Better than her old work ever had. These days, she barely even thought about journalism.

“Emma!” Mel called out, from the kitchen. “Food’s ready, babe!”

Emma quickly finished up her set and headed over to the dining table, where Mel was serving up a meal of grilled chicken breasts, lentils, and some green vegetables. Fortunately for her, Mel seemed more than happy to cater to her newfound love of health foods.

As Emma sat down, she whipped out her phone and took a couple of quick pics of her meal. They’d go down great on her Instagram. Emma’s socials had really been blowing up, ever since she started posting about her fitness journey. Making connections with other, similarly-minded girls was so much more fun than all the boring, serious stuff she’d been using social media for before.

“Um… hey, Emma?” Mel called out. “Earth to Emma? Your food’s gonna get cold.”

“Oops!” Emma giggled, putting down her phone.

She’d been distracted, checking on the comments and views on the pre-workout selfie she’d posted earlier. It was funny; Emma had never really used Instagram much before, but now, she constantly caught herself scrolling for hours and hours, hopelessly lost in the thrill of all that attention.

Emma loved attention.

“Emma, are you doing OK?” Mel asked. Emma realized her friend was staring at her with concern in her eyes.

“Sure!” she replied brightly. “Don’t I look like I’m doing good?”

Mel nodded. Emma knew there was no disputing that. She was in the best shape of her life. Thanks to all that exercise, her body had become sleek and toned, shedding all the puppy fat she’d been carrying around before. She was starting to look like a model.

“I just…” Mel pressed hesitantly. “You seem a little… distracted lately.”

Emma giggled again. “I guess.”

It was hard to deny, but Emma wasn’t troubled by it. She felt great.

Mel wasn’t to be dissuaded by Emma’s upbeat mood. “Hey so, how’s your investigation going?”

“Uh…” Emma blinked. “My… investigation?”

“You know, that fitness piece,” Mel prompted. “Abuses of hypnosis. Stuff like that.”

“Oh!” Emma giggled. She hadn’t so much as thought about it in days. “I guess it’s… like… what do you call it? On the back burner!”

“I see.” Mel tilted her head, staring at Emma intently. “I’m surprised. You seemed so passionate about it!”

“I guess.” In truth, Emma barely even remembered. “But, like, priorities change. I figured you’d be totally pleased! You were telling me to take a break.”

“True,” Mel conceded. “I’m glad you’re taking some time off, babe.”

“Uh-huh!” Emma agreed. “Anyway, I think I was kinda wrong about some stuff.”

“Yeah?”

“I was soooo worried about hypnosis.” Emma giggled. “But now I, like, know better! Hypnosis is great.”

Hypnosis made her dumber, and getting dumber felt good.

“Right…” Mel said pensively. There was an odd look on her face. “I… you’ll still be careful, right? People still know you as a serious journalist. I really wouldn’t want someone, um, taking advantage. Say, when you’re out jogging, or on your way to Amara’s.”

Emma just giggled yet again. “You worry so much!”

“I guess I do, babe, when it’s about you.” Mel’s face relaxed into a smile. “Anyway, I’m glad to have you around more often. It’s nice. And I sure don’t mind the view.”

Mel winked, and Emma dissolved into yet more giggling. She knew what Mel was alluding to. Her dress sense had certainly taken a turn. She was currently wearing a pink sports bra, and a pair of pink and white dolphin shorts - and that was it. Nothing else.

All the better to get the kind of attention Emma craved. It was the same reason she’d started getting serious about makeup. Whatever made her Instagram selfies blow up harder.

And of course, attention from Mel was nice too. Very nice.

“O-K!” Emma chanted as she finished her meal, before bouncing up out of her seat. “I’m gonna get ready to take another jog around the block. I’ve still got, like, a little more energy to burn off.”

“Sure thing, babe,” Mel replied. “Just… remember what I said, alright? Be careful.”

Emma giggled. “You got it, bestie!”

She could tell Mel was worried, but she wasn’t really sure why. As far as she was concerned, it was all very simple.

Exercise felt good. Exercise got her attention. And exercise made her dumber.

Getting dumber felt good.

It was as simple as that.

What was there to worry about?

***

“Four!” Emma chanted, counting her sit-ups as sweat dripped from her brow to stain the pink exercise mat underneath her. “Five! Six! S… s… um…”

“Seven,” Amara reminded her, smirking.

“Right.” Emma giggled. She was turning into such an airhead. “Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten!”

“Alright!” Amara reached down to help haul Emma to her feet. “Great session today. Good job.”

“Yay!” Emma bounced in celebration, before reaching for her water bottle and taking a nice, big mouthful. As she did, she looked at herself in one of the mirrors lining the walls of Amara’s home gym - and liked what she saw.

After weeks of healthy living, she’d decided it was time for a small makeover. Emma had gone blonde, and she loved it. She’d been buying lots of new clothes, too. All pink, of course. Nice, bright colors like pink and blonde were perfect for her new mindset. And accessories like her pink water bottle and pink hairband really helped with her Instagram engagement.

Emma was rapidly becoming a social media diva. She just couldn’t help it. She loved the attention.

For that matter, she could see Amara checking her out in the mirror too. That made Emma giggle and preen. She loved all kinds of attention, and she knew lots of girls who loved her new, athletic body.

It was kind of a shame that Amara seemed reluctant to put the moves on her. The tall, buff personal trainer was incredibly hot, and Emma’s sex drive had been through the roof lately.

“OK!” Amara announced. “Let’s do a quick breathing exercise to cool down.”

“Sure!” Emma replied brightly. She was up for anything, and she knew what breathing exercises meant.

Hypnosis.

“Emma,” Amara said slowly. “Fall.”

Emma’s eyes fluttered as she let the bliss of trance take her. It was such a thrill, knowing that one little word from Amara was all it took nowadays.

Emma loved hypnosis. Hypnosis made her dumber.

“I want you to take some deep breaths for me, Emma,” Amara began. “And as you do, feel your heartbeat gradually returning to its steady, normal rhythm.”

Emma nodded sleepily. She was already so deep. All of this was completely familiar; they did it at the end of every workout session now.

“Now,” Amara continued, after a few moments, “I want you to take an extra-deep breath for me. And as you do, I want you to think about all the things that have been distracting you from your work-out goals over the past few days. Whatever those might be - stray thoughts, random pieces of information, unhelpful memories - I want you to feel them all gathering up in your chest as you inhale.”

Emma nodded again. This, too, was a familiar exercise. At the end of all their workouts, Amara helped her to forget things. This time, a whole bunch of old memories came to mind; for some reason, Emma kept catching herself reminiscing about high-school English class. She’d read so many books back then! Books with big, long words she didn’t understand anymore. She gathered up a bunch of thoughts about politics, too. It was annoying how they buzzed around in her mind whenever she caught the news.

“And now, breathe out,” Amara instructed. “And as you do, imagine all of those thoughts that you’ve been gathering up being pushed out of your body. Imagine them blowing out of your lips, and feel them slip out of your mind at the same time.”

Emma breathed out, and all those thoughts and memories left her, turning into nothing more than thin air.

She sighed happily and giggled a few times. She loved getting dumber like that. It made it so much easier to focus on working out! Plus, the way Amara used hypnosis for it was so hot. It was like one of her naughty little fantasies come to life.

Emma felt like, maybe, a long time ago, something about that might have bothered her. But at this point, she really couldn’t remember.

And she liked it that way.

Amara clapped her hands to wake Emma out of trance. “Perfect,” the personal trainer said. “I think we’re done for the day. Unless you want to ask me any more questions, that is.”

Emma tilted her head to one side, curious. “Um… questions?”

“You know,” Amara prompted, “for your investigation.”

Dumbfounded, Emma simply blinked. “What investigation?”

A grin slowly crept across Amara’s face. “Actually, don’t worry about it.”

“OK!” Emma accepted that at once. She loved not worrying about things.

As Amara watched the former journalist gather up her stuff, she reached for her phone. It was time. Emma was absolutely perfect. Amara sent one, simple, fateful message to her employer.

She’s ready.

---

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

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#story #Lifestyle Journalism

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