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ldrfanatic · 1 year ago

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Italian Theodore Nott Headcanons

So... by popular request (I think like literally one person commented on a post from ages ago) and also because I'm still working on my most recent part to the '13' Series (linked here) here's some Italian Theo headcanons to keep you sated.

sorry if this is inaccurate it's based off of my own knowledge of italians and what I think Theo would be like

slytherin boys masterlist works

So, unlike most, I don't think that Italian Theo would be a whore. Let me explain:

Sure Italian men like to flirt, (although Theo doesn't), but they do it because it comes so natural to them and because more than anything, they value their partner.

They're well dressed and take pride in their appearance (something Theo does do) but they don't always entertain the people of the heads that they turn

They also have a natural air of confidence that Theo has and doesn't even have to use

However, just because Theo isn't a whore doesn't mean that he doesn't have his own little clique of fangirls.

In general:

As a person, Theo is incredibly quiet. His English is not the best as he grew up in the Italian countryside and spends his breaks there. He spends most of his time observing, and the rest of his time, mentally translating sentences from English to Italian and vice versa (and yes that's exhausting).

He does however take food incredibly seriously (as most Italians do I feel). His favorite kind of pasta is Paccheri and he will die on the hill that the Italians were the first to make Pizza (who else could make bread, sauce, and cheese taste so good?). He was also incredibly shocked when he found out the drinking age in England was 18. Theo had a glass of wine with dinner every night since the age of ten.

Another thing he doesn't quite understand about England is the frequency through which they drink tea throughout the day. At most, he has a cup a day while some of his English friends have four to five cups a day and usually, one cup with every meal.

Theo also had a very strong connection to his mother. Now that she's gone, he spends a lot of time in his head with his memories of her. It's not all that shocking to anyone really that he doesn't quite have the time or the patience for girls.

Platonically:

As a friend, Theo is a little more open but not much. His two closest friends in the group are you and Lorenzo who's also Italian. He'll talk to either of you and open up a little, but only if no one else is around. He's a bit impartial to Mattheo although he does think the boy is a loose cannon and he actually secretly despises Draco and his blood purity nonsense as it reminds him too much of his father (whom he also hates). So yeah, he spends the majority of his time with Lorenzo and Blaise.

In regards to your friendship with Theo, he's a complete gentleman. He never sits too close in fear of startling or offending you. He opens all of the doors the pair of you walk through and carries your books to class when you have the same class.

In fact, despite being significantly more well mannered than any other boy in your year, the only thing that hinted to you that Theo felt anything towards you other than indifference were small smiles and shared secrets.

Romantically:

Before you even became friends you'd caught Theo's eye. The first time he'd noticed you, you were comforting a crying first year muggle-born that Draco had bullied to tears. You spoke so kindly and softly to the boy. Theo knew then that you weren't like everyone else in Hogwarts. Most people were too afraid to stand up to Draco but the next day, you punched him square in the jaw and told him to stop being such a prick.

The first person to find out about Theo's crush on you was Lorenzo of course. He didn't tease him for which Theo was grateful. Now as stated, Theo is an incredibly quiet person so it's not clear to you that Theo has crush on you.

Also, once Theo has decided that he likes you, other girls don't even approach him anymore. Not after the Ravenclaw incident. A Ravenclaw from your guys' year approached him and asked him out. He didn't even acknowledge her. Just stood up and left.

He does however, make an attempt to spend more time with you whenever her can. He sits with you at meals and during lessons, he asks you for help in charms (even though he's already receiving high marks, but you don't know that). He brings you soup when your sick.

The way that you find out Theo has a crush on you is actually really surprising for you.

Lorenzo came running up to you after Potions one day, completely out of breath. "Y/n! Come quick." He didn't give you any room to disagree as he grasped your wrist firmly and began dragging you down the corridor towards the courtyard. When you got out there, your stomach dropped.

For the first time since meeting him, you saw Theo fight. He had Addrian Pucey on the ground and was currently pummeling the poor boy. The scariest part was that he remained completely calm, cold. Mattheo and Draco were standing on the sidelines egging him on while Theo ruthlessly delivered blow after blow in dead silence. He didn't even wince as his knuckles began to split open and bleed.

Blaise was desperately trying to pull Theo away but he wouldn't budge. Finally, you snapped out of your stupor and approached the boy. As he was throwing punches with his right arm, you approached him from the left and placed a hand on his left shoulder apprehensively. "Theo."

At the sound of your voice, Theo stopped immediately. He didn't look at you immediately. Instead, he stood and kicked Adrian who was on the ground rolling in pain. "Stay away from her." The crowd dispersed as the fight ended. When Theo turned to look at you, his eyes were blazing. For the first time since you'd known him, Theo was burning with rage.

"Theo come on." He let you lead him away in complete silence. Worse than what Adrian had said to you, Theo was ashamed. He couldn't believe that he'd let his emotions take over like that. Now he may have lost you for good. When you finally stopped in a secluded corridor, Theo turned away from you.

"Theo?" He was silent and your concern grew. It wasn't Theo's usual kind of silence, it was a silence that made your heart feel heavy. "Theodore."

"Don't."

"What?"

Finally Theo turns to you and his eyes are glossy. It was startling almost, to see the normally calm and collected boy tearing up. "Don't do that tesoro. Yell, push me, hit me if you need to, but I'm not Theodore. Not to you."

"What happened?" He sighed.

"I overheard Adrian say something completely vile about... you. I couldn't let him talk about you like that. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me cuore. You are the only light in my dark life."

You reached out and grabbed Theo's hands in your own. "That's incredibly sweet of you Theo. But why would you do that for me?"

"Isn't it obvious! I am entirely and irreversibly in love with you. I cannot live without you and I will not allow anyone to say such things about you."

After that, Theo took you out on a date. Thanks to his Pureblood lineage, Theo's family was quite wealthy. And his father had always taken to making sure he was well cared for financially, perhaps out of guilt from his emotional abuse.

For your first date, Theo took you to a London shopping district with his Black Card. At first you refused to spend any of his money. That is until Theo became resigned to buy you everything that your eyes lingered on for more than five seconds despite all your protests.

To end the date, he treated you to a nice dinner and then brought the pair of you back to Hogwarts.

As your boyfriend:

As your boyfriend, Theo's go-to nickname for you is either tesoro (treasure). He spends a lot of time staring at you which Mattheo teases him endlessly for of course.

He wishes you could meet his mother, but he adamantly refuses for you to meet his father. Instead, he introduces you to his grandmother. She teaches you how to make pasta from scratch and you and Theo often sneak into the kitchens at Hogwarts to try and make it there.

He makes it pretty clear that you're the only girl for him. He even tells you one night how his mother's dying wish was for him to find someone that he loved wholeheartedly and who loved him as much. Theo knows that this person is you, and he has no shyness in telling you.

He hates to see you cry, but if for any reason you're feeling sad, he recites Italian poetry to you in a soft and devoted tone.

Questo nostro amore, vita mia

lo prospetti felice

destinato a durare per sempre.

Dei del cielo, fate voi che lei dica il vero,

che lo prometta sincera e dal cuore,

che si possa per tutta la vita

mantener questo patto inviolabile

(This love of ours my life; I predict will be happy; destined to last forever.; Gods of the sky, do what you deem to be true; that promises to be sincere and from the heart,; which can be for a lifetime,; keep this inviolable covenant.)

When Theo speaks his native tongue it makes you a little weak in the knees. The way that his lips curve around the words and his tongue effortlessly forms each syllable makes your heart swell.

Overall:

Italian Theo is a complete cutie with impeccable manners and expresses more romance in ten minutes with you than most men express in their entire lives. He sees you as a light that brightens his life that he will do anything to protect.

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help this is so bad

#slytherin boys #slytherin #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #blaise zabini

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screamlet · 2 months ago

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post 8x09-10 coda

my contribution to the "tommy shows up at eddie's place and finds buck there" collection. also on the ao3.

bucktommy / hopeful ending / 1k

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Buck thought about becoming a cyclist a few years ago. Like, as a personality trait. Like he thought he'd get really into biking on his off days, ride for miles and miles, maybe do some of those super long 50-mile races people allegedly did. Getting a newish start at Eddie's old place means taking his fancy bike out of storage and deciding whether it should come with him.

He starts riding and it's not exactly transformative, and he feels a little silly thinking it would be. But he keeps to it because, what, does he have anything else to do? Eddie's settling into his new house and working on his family (not just Chris, but all of his family) and everyone else in his life has their own families, and Buck has his bike. And running shoes. Maybe he should take up running instead. Or build a home gym, like Tommy has. Had. Has. He's not sure about the state of his home gym.

That also feels dumb, though, since Eddie told prospective tenants over and over again that there was a bustling suburban downtown area with a great gym that had reasonable membership prices, and honestly maybe at this point Buck should think about moving out of LA, too. At least when he lived in the Jeep and traveled all over, he met lots of new and different people who made time for him for a little while, and he'd be on the road before they could really lose interest in him and let him go.

"Are you crying?"

Buck's sitting on the front step of Eddie's house and rubbing at his eyes but, yeah, he might have been crying. Now he's definitely crying in front of Tommy, who's standing on the lawn with his hands on his hips. They stare at each other for a minute, like Tommy's waiting for an answer and as if Buck isn't obviously answering him.

"Feeling a little lonely, Tommy. How about you?" Buck leans on his knees and musters a smile. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Tommy takes another long moment to answer, but Buck's got nowhere else to be so he can wait him out. Wait, he lives here now; he literally has nowhere else to be.

"Eddie said his subletter wouldn't move in for a few more days but he thought he left the back door unlocked. Did he tell you the same thing?" Tommy raises his eyebrows. "Cute little scheme to get us to run into each other?"

Buck claps his hands. "I'm the subletter."

Tommy looks surprised, but tries to hide it. "And is the back door closed?"

"I'll find out." Buck, hollowed out, smiles again. "Need anything else?"

A beat. A long one, again. "I've been lonely, too."

"Really?" Buck asks. "With your karaoke trivia and—"

"I've been lonely, too," Tommy repeats.

Buck's less hollow now; a drop of pity for Tommy has hit the bottom of the bucket.

"Wanna sit with me? Be less lonely?" Buck clears his throat. "Eddie told you he was moving, right?"

"He did." Tommy comes closer. "Said he didn't need any help, though, so I didn't come by. Had all the help he needed. Did you guys have a going away thing?"

A wave of pity rolls into the bucket.

"It was really last minute," Buck says.

"Yep. I get it."

There's enough space, for sure, but Buck edges to one side of the step anyway. "There's space for you."

"That's okay." Tommy's lips are a fine line before they quirk into a smile. "I don't need the pity."

"Too bad," Buck replies. "I went and got too much for myself and there's leftovers with your name on them."

Tommy rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. He sighs loudly, playfully, then comes and sits next to Buck on the step. He asks, "You doing okay?"

"I mean, my pregnant sister got kidnapped and my best friend moved to another state and I moved out of my apartment that I've been in for five years and I still miss my ex-boyfriend but other than that. Yeah, just fine." Buck clears his throat and points to his bike. "Do I seem like a cyclist to you? Like could you see me really getting into biking?"

"I think if you want something, nothing will stop you," Tommy says. "If you want to date a guy and never have before, you're gonna date a guy. If you wanna learn everything about a dead cowboy and then give him a respectful funeral while you're covered in boils, you will. If you—Eddie gave me like five different lemon and walnut and cranberry-orange loaves before he left and he said you made them? You just like, started a baking side gig or something? Did you want to do that, too, or did it just happen to you?"

"Oh, that." Buck has been blushing as Tommy talked, ducking his head to hide it, shying away, but Tommy's leaned in like he has to make sure Buck doesn't miss a word. "I started baking after we broke up. It was a good distraction."

"Five—"

"You came at the tail end, honestly, you missed a whole bakery's worth over the holidays." Buck looks at him. "What have you been doing?"

"Me, well. I bought another car I could start restoring. I repainted my porch and the fence. Took up yoga because, I don't know, wasn't feeling that flexible anymore. Uh." Tommy motions to the bike. "Also thought about biking because who doesn't want to pedal away from their problems, right?"

Buck asks, "What's your schedule look like? Did you actually buy a bike? Want to go on a ride? I know a place that does rentals."

"Buck, I don't know."

He wants to howl and correct him (Evan) but he keeps his mouth shut.

"Just an offer," Buck says. "I'm gonna head in now. Do you want water or something before you head back?"

Tommy doesn't make a move until Buck does, standing up from the steps and brushing off the back of his jeans. "If you're free..."

Buck raises his eyebrows.

"I'm free," Tommy says. "There's a bottle shop like 10 minutes away, if—maybe we could have a drink here? I don't know if you've already christened your new house or anything."

Buck grins. "Have I had a beer here? Yeah, I have. But—but that sounds nice. I can order a pizza if you're hungry. I'm starving."

"Yeah, that sounds nice." Tommy takes a few steps back to the truck. "I'll be back. Promise."

That little promise makes him ache. "No IPAs, please."

"I remember." Tommy watches him for a moment from the driver's side, then climbs into the truck and starts it up. Buck steps inside and shuts the door. He knows Tommy will be back.

#911 fic #bucktommy fic #bucktommy #my writing #my fic #tevan #tevan fic #kinley #kinley fic #it's a monday and work is so excruciatingly slow #have this

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ggoyangie · 1 month ago

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nerd!gojo x fem!reader your nerdy lab partner asked you out. a/n: am i late to the party? hope not. (not proofread and all over the place... ^^; not quite contented with this but yolo)

Satoru was the best lab partner you could ask for. He knows everything but he won't hoard all of the work. He even gave you high-five once when you reached the desired result - that became a habit ever since.

You got along with him quite easily, all things considered. You thought he was unapproachable since he looked like he was always in his own world, so you were surprised he initiated a conversation on a random day after the lab ended.

You learned that he's an only child. That he loves Digimon. He's also a big fan of strawberry parfait and mochis. It makes sense how he always has a box of kikufuki mochi whenever you meet outside the campus to work on your project. (Yet you wonder why he always shares it with you.)

Now, towards the end of the semester and with the project ending, you haven't been seeing Satoru much. He even stopped hanging out on free days, ans it makes you think that your friendship with the infamous nerd ends the moment it's over; which you think makes sense because that's the only class you both share and uni friendships are temporary, anyway. Still, the moments shared will always be remembered. You were there for each other when you needed it most — even when it's literally a requirement to pass the semester, it's appreciated either way.

What you didn't know was that Satoru has been struggling to ask you out. On top of studying for the finals, he's stressing out on how to talk to you that's not class-related.

It was easy for him when you initiated it. It's a different story when it's him. He wishes he could just shove the flowers to you and call it a day. It is as if that can get the message across...

Your last meeting in the class is about to end and he still doesn't know what to do. He didn't want to send a message, it won't feel genuine.

Ah, fuck it.

"Hey," Satoru greets you as you tidy up your desk. "Uh, are you free? This weekend?"

He looked this up - 'How do you ask a girl out?' He read the results on Wikihow, Reddit, GQ, and even Quora. All these preparations, and yet his vocabulary leaves him when he's in front of her.

"Yeah. I am. Why?"

"Uh," he stutters, a blush creeping on his cheeks. "Do you want to watch the movie you've been telling me about? Think of it as a celebration for semester's end."

It was the movie you'd told him weeks ago, one you had almost forgotten about due to the nature of a busy semester.

"Just the two of us, if that's okay," the guy adds, his cheeks getting redder but his voice doesn't falter. "Like a date."

That's how Gojo Satoru settled a date with you.

Now, you're all comfortable in your seat. When you arrived, he had already bought the tickets. He also said that he waited for you to pick on the snacks. Opting on your favorite one, Satoru got a big one for the both of you to share.

Afterwards, you find yourself in the arcade. Both of you tried everything you could, from the zombie shooting game, Dance Dance Revolution, to even fighting against each other in Tekken. Despite telling him not to go easy on you, he still had to kiss you on the cheek later on for losing.

You're lying if you say you're not having fun. How can you not? He knows how to have fun.

By the end of the day, you find yourself having to carry a bag for the three plushies he won you from the claw machine.

The sun was already setting when the both of you stepped inside the train. He made sure to drop you off in front of your dorm building before walking back to his own with a smile on his face.

You played it safe and texted him half an hour later when you were sure he was in his dorm.

"Thoughts on a second date?"

The reply you received was almost instant.

"I would love nothing more."

#☘︎ . writing #for jjk . ☘︎#gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you

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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year ago

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i need someone older ~ william afton;five nights at freddy's

word count: 3794

request?: no

description: after a bad breakup, she finds herself becoming more and more attracted to her much older boss

pairing: william afton x female!reader

warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is mid 20s, afton is 50s), power imbalance technically (but it's fine), bit of an au (so he doesn't unalive anyone in this one)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I stormed into work, really pushing it for time. I had slept past my alarm and was incredibly reluctant to get out of bed. After the night I had, the last thing I wanted was to work eight hours in a children's restaurant, with screaming kids and the animatronics playing the same three songs all day. But I needed the money, and hopefully a distraction.

"Whoa, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?" my coworker, Adam, asked.

"Fuck off," I muttered. "I gotta go change into my uniform. Can you punch me in so I'm not late?"

"Yeah. Be quick, though. Afton's here."

I rolled my eyes. "He doesn't even know our names. He's not going to know I'm supposed to be on the clock."

I changed as quickly as I could while having limited space in a tiny bathroom stall. I stuffed my clothes into my backpack and did a quick double check in the mirror to make sure I was work appropriate. I wasn't paying enough attention as I stepped out of the bathroom and managed to literally run into someone who was walking past. I cursed under my breath as I looked up and came face to face with the fucking owner of Freddy Fazbear's.

As if this day couldn't get any worse.

"|'m so sorry, Mr. Afton," I said.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Where's the fire, though? You seem like you're in a hurry."

How do I answer this without getting in shit? "I'm just, uh...trying not to be late. I had to change, and bring my bag to my locker."

William looked down at his watch. I felt my heart starting to pound.

"Cutting it a little close there," he commented.

"I know."

My grip on my bag had tightened as I braced for the worst. I had never met William before. Despite owning the restaurant, he was rarely ever around. Whenever he was, he was usually tucked away in his office for most of the day and only ever spoke with our manager. Due to this, I didn't know if he would be a hard ass who was about to write me up for running late. After the events of the previous night, I didn't think I'd be able to take getting reprimanded today.

He took me by surprise when he smiled and said, "Just don't let it happen again, okay?"

I nodded, unable to form any words, and scurried around him to the lockers.

Adam looked at me when I finally returned to the floor. "What took you so long?"

"I ran into Afton," I responded.

His eyes widened. "Did he give you shit?"

"Luckily no. Just told me not to let it happen again."

"I warned you that he was here."

I flipped Adam off when I was sure none of the kids could see me.

As if my day couldn't get any worse, my manager came to tell me that I was stationed on the prize counter for the day. The prize counter was probably the worst part of the restaurant. There was never any downtime at the counter. Either there was rowdy children hopped up on candy and pizza screaming about wanting toys they didn't have enough tickets for, or there were tired parents wanting to buy tokens for the arcade games while their rowdy kids were nearby screaming. Not to mention it was right next to the main stage, so the sound of screaming children was only matched by the sound of pre-recorded music coming from the animatronics' speakers. And to top it all off, the closing duties for the prize counter took longer than any other section of the restaurant.

It was the worst section to work, and I already wanted to leave just knowing that was my station for the day.

The only plus side was that being kept busy made the day fly by. But the usual craziness of Freddy Fazbear's was extra unbearable to a point where I felt myself on the edge of tears numerous times. I knew it was going to be a bad idea for me to be at work, and I was really regretting coming in.

I let out a sigh of relief as the last family finally left and the animatronics finally powered down. Adam laughed at me as I put my head down on the cool glass that held the prizes. "You're giving yourself more work to do."

I looked at the smudge I had left on the glass before glaring up at him. "I don't think my one smudge is making things any worse."

"Okay seriously, what is up with you? You've been grumpy all day."

I sighed and shook my head. "I had a bad night."

"Do you want me to help you close up so you can get out of here sooner?"

I gave him a look. "We both know you don't actually want that."

"But I'd do it to help you."

"I appreciate it, but I'll be fine. My annoyance and desire to leave will make me work faster."

Adam didn't fight me on it anymore. He said goodnight and clocked out. Once I heard the front door close and lock, I immediately got to work with cleaning. That was the easiest part as all I had to do was clean the glass of the prize case and pick up the discarded tickets from the floor. When I finished that, I started counting the cash in order to close it off. That was supposed to be another easy task, but my mind being anywhere but the task at hand made it so much harder.

Restocking the prizes was the hardest part. I had been on my own for nearly an hour, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted, so I was trying to rush out of there but found myself fumbling a little extra. I was trying to dump a box of tiny soldier toys into their respective bin when the box slipped from my hands and landed on its side, the toys scattering all over the floor.

It was my breaking point. Everything finally came crashing down around me and the flood gates finally opened. I lowered myself to the floor, sitting with my back against the counter. I buried my head into my hands and began to sob.

"Seems like a bit of a strong reaction to dropping some toys."

I jumped and looked towards where the voice had come from. I was sure I was the only one left in the restaurant, everyone else having left while I was doing my closing duties. Even my manager had left, giving me the keys and the code to the security system. But, turns out, I was wrong, because there was William Afton leaning over the counter to look down at me.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, wiping the tears from my face. "S-Sorry Mr. Afton. I-I didn't realize - "

"Hey, it's okay," he said, cutting me off and speaking in a soft voice. "What's going on? You seem stressed."

"It's...personal things. I shouldn't have let it interfere with my work."

"Fuck the professional shit for a second here. Forget I'm your boss, forget we're on the clock. If there's anything going on that you want to talk about, I'm all ears."

I leaned against the counter across from him. "It's stupid."

"You're crying, so I don't think it's that stupid."

I sighed. "My boyfriend broke up with me last night, after admitting he's been cheating on me for the last three months."

William whistled in response. "That's tough."

I nodded. "It just...came out of nowhere. We've been together for three years, moved in together last year. There was no signs that anything was wrong. I didn't even suspect that he was cheating. He came home last night and suddenly told me everything. Packed a bag and went to his...I guess...girlfriend's house. Told me he'd be back at some point this week to get his stuff."

Tears were stinging my eyes again. I looked away so William wouldn't see me cry anymore. Upon looking down, I realized my bare arms were on the glass of the prize counter, leaving smudges again. I cursed under my breath and turned to grab the cleaner again.

"Here, let me," William said, reaching for the cleaner. "You pick up the toy soldiers and I'll help restock the prizes once I finish this."

I was a little shocked, but definitely was not about to argue over getting help. We worked much quicker as a team and, finally, I was able to clock out to leave. I stood by as William set the security system and locked the gates.

"Thank you for helping me," I said.

"You don't have to thank me," he said. "It seemed you needed help, and I wasn't about to let one of my employees struggle while I was on the property." I smiled at him and started for my car. "For what it's worth - " I paused and turned back to him. " - your ex-boyfriend is a fucking idiot. You seem like a great woman. Don't beat yourself up over him."

He smiled and turned to walk towards his own car. I watched him go, surprised by what he said. Even through the cold night air, I could feel my face burning.

~~~~~~

William was around more after that. Not just in his office, but he was actually out on the floor. Everyone was noticing his increased presence, but I found myself noticing it in a different way. Whenever William was near, my eyes were practically glued to him. I found it difficult to concentrate whenever he was around. Luckily, everyone else was so distracted by his presence that they didn't notice how useless I had become.

It was wrong. I knew that. Having a crush on a coworker was bad enough, but a crush on your boss was a whole other level of bad. Especially when your boss is so much older. I had no idea whether or not he was even married or had kids for God's sake!

But every time I saw him, I couldn't stop my heart from racing. I wanted him in a way I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop myself.

During one of my shifts, I was put on the serving section. Serving was easy enough - take orders, bring food, check on tables. The hardest part was trying not to trip over a child running past while carrying a whole pizza on a hot tray. Most of us had learned the art of scanning the area before we walked, but sometimes you just don't notice quick enough and end up surprised by one of those little fuckers.

One of the cooks passed a pizza through the pass to me and told me the table number. I took the tray and balanced it against my shoulder, something I found was the easiest way to balance the bigger trays. The restaurant wasn't too busy, but there were still enough kids running around that I took in my surroundings before I started to walk. I was making a mental note about two kids who were stood by the stage, dancing to the song that Freddy was "singing", and didn't notice another kid who was racing from one of the playrooms in front of me. I stopped suddenly, just short of running into him, but found myself losing my balance after he ran past.

I felt two hands grab hold of my waist, holding me upright and saving me from a very embarrassing scene. When I turned to thank my savior, I came to face the blue eyes I had been trying to desperately to avoid today.

"That could've been a disaster," William said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Th-thank you," I managed to stutter out. I could still feel the heat of his hands against my waist, like they were burning through the clothes and searing my skin. I almost forgot the heavy tray of pizza I was carrying in that moment.

When he let me go, his eyes still trained on me, I quickly turned and hurried to my table. I tried not to seem so flustered, but I knew I had failed. I stuttered through every sentence before finally dismissing myself to the prize counter where one of my other coworkers, Beth, was snickering to herself.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Don't ask," I responded.

"Oh, I'm asking. Are you all hot and bothered for Afton?!"

"Shh!" I snapped, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one had heard. Not like anyone would over the usual noise of the restaurant.

"Oh, you so are!" she said. "Holy shit, (Y/N), you know that's bad news right? He's literally our boss."

"I know he is. I'm not stupid. But...I can't help it!"

"At least he would be more of a gentleman than that small dick asshole you call your ex." She looked over her shoulder as the front door to the pizzeria opened. When she looked back, her eyes were wide. "Speak of the devil."

I looked over to see none other than the small dick asshole himself, Josh, walking in. I wished I could disappear into the floor and never be seen again. I tried to turn and walk away before he spotted me, but no luck.

"(Y/N)!"

I groaned and turned back to him. "What do you want, Josh?"

"I was just over getting the last of my stuff - "

"Awesome, I do not care. If you've come to give me your key back, you could've just left it on the dining room table."

"No, I came to say that I couldn't find my Springsteen album."

I furrowed my eyebrows and crossed my arms. "So you came all this way to...what? Ask me what I did with it? I have no idea, Josh, I threw everything that was yours into boxes and garbage bags. If it's not in there, you might've left it in your car or at your new girlfriend's house."

"It's not any of those places." I wasn't sure if I should've been hurt about the fact that he wasn't addressing my last comment directly, but I definitely was a little bit.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I wanted to see when you were going to be off work and maybe I could come by to look for it with you."

I scoffed. "Are you serious right now? Josh, I don't know what the fuck happened to your album, but you're sure as hell not coming over to the house. That is not your place anymore, and you're very much not welcome there."

"Why can't we be adults about this?"

"You lost the right to being adult about this the second you decided to cheat on me! And how dare you say that shit, but then come down to my place of work to try and, what, harass me into letting you back into my home? We're over, Josh. I don't ever want to see you again. If I find any of your shit left at the house, I'll drop it in the trash."

"What seems to be the problem here?"

I suppressed the urge to groan again. As if things couldn't get any more complicated.

"No problem, Mr. Afton," I said, turning to face William with the best, innocent smile I could muster. "Just an...unwelcome guest."

William looked at me for a moment before letting his eyes wander to Josh. I didn't have to say much else for him to recognize who the "unwelcome guest" was and I could see anger in his eyes.

"Well, time to get back to work, (Y/N)," he said to me. "Your customers are waiting."

I nodded and ducked away from the situation. As I walked away, Josh called after me, "That's fine, I'll be waiting for you to get off! We can talk more then!"

"Like hell you will."

A collective gasp from the parents and Beth cause me to spin around to see William had grabbed hold of the collar of Josh's shirt. William was easily a head taller than Josh, so even if the act wasn't meant to be intimidating, he definitely looked intimidating. I don't think I've ever seen such fear on Josh's face. William turned Josh around and basically dragged him towards the front door.

"If I see you back here, I will have your ass arrested," he said as he threw Josh out of the restaurant. "Are we clear, punk?"

He didn't wait for a response as he pulled the door shut. I could see Josh standing there, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. William re-entered the main area, still looking angry, but tried to put on his best customer service smile as he addressed his new crowd. "Sorry everyone. Just an unruly customer. Sorry for any trouble."

To me he added, "Come see me in my office, please."

Beth and I exchanged a look before I followed William towards his office. I was so sure he was going to get upset with me. Not only had I brought my personal shit to the restaurant (even though that wasn't my fault), but it had also resulted in a not so great scene in front of the customers. People get to talking, and I was sure that this story was going to be spread through town before the night was out.

The moment I stepped into his office, I set in on the apologies. "Mr. Afton, I'm so sorry about that. I had no idea he was coming. I've been trying to avoid him while he's moving his stuff out and I guess he was getting tired of that or wanted to poke me one last time or something - "

"Did he hurt you?"

I paused my rambling to look up at him. All anger was gone from his face and had instead been replaced by concern.

"What?" I asked.

"Did he do anything to you just then?"

I shrugged. "Not physically. He was definitely still trying to mess with me mentally, though."

William nodded. "Well, he's not welcome on the property anymore. If you see him, you have my full permission to contact the police immediately."

"I...I don't think that's entirely necessary."

"I don't mean to sound like an old man or anything, but I've met plenty of assholes like your ex, (Y/N). You give them an inch and they take a mile. If you don't deal with this now, he will continue to come back and harass you. I don't want that for you. You don't deserve that."

I opened my mouth to say something else, but nothing came out. I was realizing how close we were now. We were mere inches away from one another. If I wanted to, I could just reach out and touch him right now; grab him. I could've kissed him right then and there if I really wanted to. Who would've known?

As if reading my mind, William suddenly reached out and cupped my face. Before I could comprehend what was happening, his lips were on mine. It was kind of ironic, the fact that I had just been thinking about doing this exact thing, but now that it was happening it was like my brain wasn't sure how to comprehend the situation.

William pulled away just as quickly as he had initiated the kiss. He backed away from me, suddenly worried. "I'm so sorry. I...I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have done that."

In response, I pretty well threw myself at him. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with such force that it pushed him back into his desk. He positioned himself so that he was sat on his desk and basically pulled me into his lap. It was risky, anyone could've come by and caught us, but something about that just made the experience so much better; so much hotter.

William pulled away first again. I tried to chase his lips with mine, but he pushed me back, chuckling at my eagerness.

"Hold on," he said. "There's some things we have to discuss before this goes any further."

"Please don't tell me you're married," I said.

He laughed. "No, I'm not married. Divorced with a 10 year old daughter. That was the first thing I wanted to discuss, in case single dad is a dealbreaker."

"Very much not a dealbreaker."

"So...the age thing is also not a dealbreaker then?"

I shook my head. "If anything, I think that makes it kinda hotter."

A grin spread on his face. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. But there is the big issue of the fact that I'm your boss."

It felt like I had been shoved off of cloud nine and come crashing down to earth. For a moment, I had forgotten that part. He was right, that was the biggest issue here. Kind of hard to get around it unless I ended up quitting, which I really did not want to do. It was nearly impossible to find a good paying job these days, and I needed this now more than ever since Josh wasn't going to be splitting rent with me anymore.

I climbed off of William's lap and stood across from him. "I guess...that is a big issue, huh?"

"I just don't want you to feel pressured into anything, and I don't want anyone to look at you any different because you're dating the boss."

I raised a playful eyebrow at him. "You jumped to dating pretty quickly there."

His smile was a little more bashful. "What can I say? I'm old school. I don't believe in hooking up or anything like that. If there's anything going on here, I want you to be able to classify it as a relationship."

In that moment, I found myself wondering why I hadn't always dated older men. I had wasted so much of my time on guys my age when I could've been dating someone who was actually a gentleman and cared about me and my feelings.

"Why don't we see where things go with this, and then we can tackle that big elephant in the room?" I asked.

"I think I can agree to that."

I took a step closer and said, "I really want to kiss you again, though."

He laughed and met me halfway, standing from his desk and taking my face in his hands again. When he kissed me, I felt like I was flying right back on to cloud nine.

#william afton #william afton imagine #william afton x reader #matthew lillard #matthew lillard imagine #matthew lillard x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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fairsexynasty · 5 months ago

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ˏ🔪ˋ°•*⁀➷･ GHOST MOUTH — chapter one: get out and get into heaven

.｡🗡️*⋆⍋*🃏*｡ spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: a new inhabitant? tenant? roommate? you're still not sure how this works. but there's someone new living in your apartment: spencer reid. how is he going to react to a ghost?

warnings: humor, platonic fluff, angst, drug usage, addiction...

a/n: love a good female character who literally haunts the narrative... but it's your narrative... so are you living it...? but you're dead....? like and reblog if you enjoy and don't forget, requests are open!

word count: 4.2k

JUNE 23, 2005.

I don’t remember buying this apartment. Or decorating it. Or signing the lease, for that matter. But apparently, I lived here.

Now, I just haunt it.

It’s strange, being stuck in a place you’re supposed to know but don’t. Like waking up in someone else’s skin. The furniture’s vaguely familiar—like seeing an actor who played a minor role in a movie you liked once—but the memories aren’t there to fill in the gaps.

Rachel makes it easier. Most days, anyway. She’s perched on the couch tonight, wine glass in hand, a throw blanket draped over her like a cape. “Okay, so get this,” she says, her voice dipping conspiratorially. “He texts me every morning. Like, without fail. Good morning, good night—it’s adorable.”

I hover near the window, watching her face light up as she gushes about this guy, Theo. He’s the latest in a string of hopefuls, but this one seems different. Genuine. “You think he’s the real deal?” I ask, trying not to sound like I’m bracing for impact.

“I do.” Rachel practically glows. “He’s thoughtful. Funny. And he actually listens. Can you believe it?”

I can’t. Or maybe I don’t want to. If she finds her happily-ever-after, where does that leave me?

"So, yeah, he's great," Rachel was saying, voice warm and confident. She was curled up on the couch, her legs tucked under her as she swirled the wine in her glass. "I don't know, it's like I finally found someone who gets it, you know?"

I watched her, biting back the sharp tug of something—jealousy? Longing? Whatever it was, it gnawed at me, and I couldn’t ignore it. Rachel had started dating this guy recently. She'd told me about him a couple of times. Each time, I couldn't help but feel like... well, like I was losing her, in a way. I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, but the thought of her moving on without me—of her living a life I wouldn't be a part of—felt like it was breaking something inside of me.

I didn't say anything, of course. I never did. What was I supposed to say? The girl was talking about her future with some guy who was clearly making her happy, and here I was—dead, ghosting around her apartment, just... existing.

She didn't need me anymore. I couldn't tell her I was scared. I couldn't tell her I felt like I was slipping away, like the life I remembered was fading fast and I had nothing left to hold onto. Rachel had a future to live. I... I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to do with what little I had left.

I just kept my distance, lingering in the corner of the room, watching as she sighed and took another sip of her wine.

It wasn’t the worst thing, I told myself. It wasn’t like I had to keep reminding her I was here. It wasn’t like I had a purpose anymore. I had no idea why I couldn’t move on, no idea how I died or what my life had been before it all fell apart. The only thing that seemed real anymore was the fact that Rachel still let me be here, let me talk to her in the little ways I could.

And that, for now, would have to be enough.

“He’s got this dorky laugh, too,” she continues, oblivious. “It’s cute. Like, ugly-cute. You know what I mean?”

I nod, even though she’s not looking. I know exactly what she means. What I don’t know is what happens when this man goes from “guy she’s seeing” to something more permanent. Does she stop needing her wine-and-gossip buddy? Does she stop needing me?

I shake off the thought. It’s not fair to Rachel. She deserves a shot at happiness, with or without me haunting her living room.

Still, the idea twists in my chest like a knife.

She laughs at something on her phone and reaches for her wine. “Anyway, enough about me. How was your day?”

I give her my best deadpan. “Unproductive. Again. Shocker.”

Rachel grins. “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

Will I?

I glance at the TV, where the menu flickers with mindless options. Maybe I will. Or maybe I won’t. Either way, I’m here. Stuck. For as long as this world lets me be seen, I’ll keep showing up.

Because what else can I do?

NOVEMBER 27th, 2006

One could say that I was currently, extremely upset. But that would be an understatement. I was fucking pissed. What do you do when your favorite resident of your haunted apartment moves out? After three years of watching over her, getting to know her, and eventually making yourself known to her– how do you start over? How do you haunt someone new?

Rachel was the one thing that kept me busy. She gave me more than enough reason to wander out of the apartment and practice the ability to leave the building. I’m not agoraphobic, I’m just trapped. And dead.

I can’t say exactly why I can leave some days and am stuck the others. It takes a lot of energy from me, so much so that I can feel myself disappearing from Rachel’s sight. The overstimulating feelings stick themselves in my joints, leaving me rugged and lapsed energetically. I don’t know what it is. I can’t name it.

I can’t even tell you where the hell my body is or what happened to me. It sucks. Not knowing where you end up or how it happens after living a life where people come up with endless theories about it. You’d think that one of the many ideas has to be accurate, and you’ve either been living your life all right or wrong. But I couldn’t tell you. I can’t make sense of it myself.

Rachel understood that. She spent her Sunday nights with me, cooking in the kitchen, playing my favorite songs I’d request, and sipping on her favorite bottle of Noir while I vented, told stories, or just rambled. I never had a best friend like her. Not while I was alive, that’s for sure.

Talking about myself in the past tense is another tricky part of being a ghost. Yes, I am dead, and I may not know where my corpse is or how I died, but I still exist. My soul is alive, so am I still a being? Is it “I am” or “I was”? We could look at it from a technical point of view. I currently offer no value to the world around me. I cannot contribute or benefit from my environment in any way possible unless you count Rachel. I cannot eat, sleep, or drink. I can still learn, I can experience, and I can feel. But I cannot disrupt the environment around me. So, by that knowledge, that makes me… still confused. I’m not smart enough to find a solution here. I took one ethics class in college, and even then, we only talked about poverty. I don’t understand quantum mechanics, and I believe in the supernatural. It doesn’t make me a credible source.

However, through all the (lack of) noise, I’ve discovered my new friend might be a credible source: Dr. Spencer Reid. It might take him a couple of months to see me, but for Rachel, it took me a year. But I have more faith in myself now.

My new friend is moving in today. November 27th, 2006, three years, seven months, and eleven days since this apartment was mine.

I can hear him coming up the stairs. A couple of mutters are in the background, so I assume he has people helping him move in. Great. More people to take up my space. I’ll probably find myself sitting on the kitchen counter the entire time while I psychotically stare at him. The doorknob wiggles and then clicks, a sign Spencer’s successfully used his key for the first time.

The door creaks open, and Spencer's voice filters in before his lanky figure even makes it through. “Okay, let’s just leave everything in the box until we bring the rest up, and then we can move the furni—oh.” He freezes mid-step, eyes locking onto mine. “Um… hello there.”

He looks like someone just handed him a live grenade and politely asked him to hold it. His friends? Oblivious. A gorgeous, sharp-eyed woman with dark hair and a towering, muscular man with rich brown skin saunter in behind him, oblivious to my presence.

“Who are you?” Spencer blurts.

I raise an eyebrow from my very cozy sprawl on the couch Rachel left behind—one leg draped dramatically over the plush velvet arm. “Oh, so you can see me,” I purr, enjoying his squirm. “How delightful.”

Spencer’s jaw works, but no sound escapes. Meanwhile, his friends exchange concerned looks like they’re debating calling a medic.

“Uh, Spence?” The woman—let’s call her Sexy Boss Barbie—tilts her head, her voice dripping with skepticism. “Who, exactly, are you talking to?”

Spencer points to me, his face a mix of confusion and terror. “Her!”

The man snorts, folding his arms like he’s humoring a toddler with an imaginary friend. “Kid, there’s no one there. Are you feeling okay? Dizzy? Dehydrated? Seeing, you know, stuff?”

“I’m fine! Are you okay? Do you not see the woman lounging on the couch?!” Spencer’s voice rises an octave, clearly distressed. “She’s waving!”

I sit up, slowly, brushing imaginary lint off my clothes. “Spencer, darling,” I say with a smirk, “they can’t see me. To them, you sound completely unhinged. Certifiable. Just batshit crazy.”

Sexy Boss Barbie’s eyes widen suddenly, as if the final piece of a years-long puzzle has just clicked into place. “Oh my god.” She claps a hand over her mouth. “It’s real. The rumors were true!”

“What rumors?” Spencer snaps, panic edging into his voice.

“The ghosts!” She throws her hands up, spinning to the muscular guy. “There’s been all this buzz about hauntings and poltergeists, and I heard they asked Fiona Caulins and her spooky little team to investigate. I thought it was a prank!”

The guy groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Prentiss, you’re telling me the FBI is officially ghost-hunting now? Do we get proton packs, or is that too much taxpayer money?”

Prentiss—because clearly she has a name now—waves dismissively at him and turns to me with the same enthusiasm as someone meeting a celebrity. “Hi, ghost! Please don’t murder my friend, he’s very nice, smart, and has a soft heart. Also, I’m too tired for a paranormal brawl.”

I narrow my eyes at Spencer, just to make him squirm a little more. “Oh, I’m definitely going to kill you.”

His gasp is chef’s kiss levels of comedic. “Please don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

“Emily,” the guy warns, sounding like the parent of the world’s most reckless child.

Spencer waves a hand awkwardly at me, trying to keep his composure. “I’m just going to assume you’re joking. For my own sanity. Because being kind is important. Even if you’re, you know…” He gestures vaguely toward me. “…dead.”

The guy throws up his hands and makes a beeline for the door. “You know what, Pretty Boy? Nope. I’m out. I’ll grab the rest of your boxes, but I am not dealing with Casper’s pissed-off cousin.”

“I’m not haunting,” I clarify, even though his retreating footsteps suggest he doesn’t care.

Prentiss steps closer, her eyes sparkling with the kind of curiosity that spells trouble. “Maybe you’re stuck here,” she offers helpfully, gesturing to my general direction like she’s presenting an exhibit at a haunted museum. “Are you stuck here?”

I shrug. “No clue.”

“She doesn’t know,” Spencer parrots, clearly regretting his life choices.

“But I don’t mind it,” I add cheerfully.

“She doesn’t mind it,” Spencer echoes, his face a study in pure, resigned chaos.

By the time all of his belongings are finally moved in, I’ve become an unofficial connoisseur of Spencer’s panicked glances. Every other moment, our eyes meet, and he looks like someone just told him Santa Claus isn’t real—or, in this case, that ghosts are. He’s clearly grappling with the idea, the gears in his brain probably spinning so fast they might combust. I mean, he’s a doctor. A man of science, logic, and reason. Ghosts? That’s the kind of thing that could either utterly shatter his worldview or send him spiraling into some kind of quantum physics rabbit hole. Probably both.

Emily and Derek—whose names I picked up during their bickering about me (I’m already a hot topic, apparently)—finally call it a night as the sun dips below the horizon. There’s a brief exchange of goodbyes, Emily offering Spencer a quick “Call if you need me!” while Derek mutters something about sage and holy water under his breath.

Once the door clicks shut behind them, the apartment falls into an awkward quiet. Spencer stands there for a moment, staring at the closed door as if considering bolting out of it himself. Eventually, he turns, slowly, to find me perched on the kitchen counter, swinging my legs.

His mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again. He’s clearly malfunctioning. “I, uh—”

I hold up a hand to stop him, smiling. “Let me make this easier for you. I’ll set some ground rules, okay?” His eyes widen, but I plow ahead. “First, I promise I won’t distract you unless you explicitly ask me to. Second, I’m not going to walk into the bathroom while you’re in there—because, seriously, why would I? Third, if you bring someone over—or if you’re already seeing someone—I’ll clear out and head downstairs. Lastly, I can leave this apartment, but leaving the building? That’s… a work in progress.”

Spencer blinks at me, stunned into silence. He doesn’t move for a beat, then nods. It’s the kind of nod you give when someone hands you a parachute and says, you’re jumping now.

I smile at him. “Feel better?”

He clears his throat, and it’s like he’s rebooting in real time. “Well, um… ghosts.” His tone shifts, slipping into what I suspect is his comfort zone: pure academic lecture mode. “The belief in ghosts is deeply rooted in human history, spanning cultures and civilizations for thousands of years. For example, the ancient Egyptians believed in the ka, the soul, which stayed connected to the body after death—hence, mummification. Similarly, in Greek mythology, spirits, or shades, resided in the underworld but could occasionally wander the mortal realm if disturbed.”

I blink at him, genuinely impressed. “Wow. That’s… actually fascinating. How do you know all that?”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and I can read up to 20,000 words per minute.”

I stare at him, deadpan. “Okay, that is harder to believe than me being a ghost.”

He sighs, his expression softening. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in… all of this, I never even asked your name.”

“It’s fine,” I say with a little laugh. “And for the record, it’s nice to… coexist with you. So, uh, are you the tenant of my home, or am I the tenant of yours?”

That earns me a small, tentative smile from him, the first real one I’ve seen. “How about we just say we’re roommates for now?”

I chuckle, hopping down from the counter. “Roomies it is, Spencer.”

“Cool.” He says it with a nod like he’s trying the word out for the first time, and it’s paired with a shy smile that feels surprisingly genuine. “Roomies.”

FEBRUARY 13, 2007

Being “roomies” with Spencer isn’t what I expected at all. I thought it'd be a relief when I found out about his job—hunting serial criminals with his team, including Derek and Emily. I wouldn’t have to worry about being a constant bother since he’d be out on cases, gone for days or weeks at a time. But what I didn’t anticipate was this hollow ache, this new kind of loneliness creeping in.

With Rachel, there was a rhythm to our days. A routine. Something grounding that kept me tethered to whatever semblance of stability a ghost can have. But Spencer? Spencer is chaos wrapped in quiet. He comes home with the weight of the world on his shoulders and disappears into his room, leaving me to drift through the empty spaces he leaves behind.

Sometimes, he’s so silent it unnerves me. He’ll come through the door after a long trip, his face drawn, and I’ll sit there, helpless, unsure if I should say something or just… vanish. What could I possibly do to help? I don’t know him well enough to give him meaningful advice. I can’t offer something as simple as a hug or even a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

But I watch him. I’ve learned his habits. The way he quietly checks on me as if I’m a lost pet instead of the spectral figure on his couch. The nights when he’s too tired to make it to bed, passing out on the couch instead. I’ll sit near him for a bit, just in case he wakes up from a nightmare. Watching over him makes me feel… useful, even if I can’t do much.

One night, I finally could.

It was after a case in Georgia. The night before he left, he’d been out drinking with his team, laughing and light in a way I hadn’t seen before. When he returned to grab his go-bag, there was a slight buzz to him—a looseness in his step and a rare smile. But he was gone within minutes, off to chase the darkness again.

When he came back a week later, he wasn’t the same.

The moment he walked through the door, I knew something was wrong. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction like he’d been clawing at it. Sweat beaded on his brow despite the cool air. His hands trembled as he locked the door—so slight, anyone else might’ve missed it. But I noticed.

“Hi,” I offered softly from the couch, not bothering with the usual pleasantries like How was the case? That felt pointless—or worse, like it might set him off.

He glanced at me briefly before his eyes darted away. “Hey,” he mumbled, his voice distant, hollow. He crossed the room to his bedroom door, hesitated for a moment, then added, “I’m going to bed.” And just like that, he was gone. He didn’t even bother turning on the light for anything.

At around three in the morning, I heard it. Muffled groans that turned into sharp cries, then full-throated shouts. It was a raw, guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine. I rushed into his room, instinct taking over.

“Spencer!” I called, shaking his arm as gently as I could. My fingers brushed against his sweat-drenched skin, and I held on tighter, desperate to pull him out of whatever hell he was trapped in.

He woke with a gasp, his eyes wide and wild. For a moment, he didn’t even seem to see me. Then his gaze focused, softening just slightly. But then he noticed my hands on his arms and recoiled, shaking me off like I burned him.

“Why are you touching me?” he demanded, his voice sharp and panicked. “How are you touching me?”

I blinked, just as shocked as he was. “I—I’m not sure. But you were having a nightmare, and I just… I wanted to help.”

His expression hardened. “I didn’t need help. I would’ve woken up and assessed my situation on my own.” He sat up straighter, his tone clipped. “You can go now.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustration bubbling beneath my skin. “No. Spencer, what happened to you? You were hurt, weren’t you?”

His laugh was bitter, cold. “I just left hell. I’m not interested in taking a guided tour back.”

I wasn’t stupid. I’d seen this before—the trembling hands, the sheen of sweat, the distant, unfocused gaze. I’d been around enough parties, enough people experimenting with everything from weed to molly to coke, to recognize the signs.

“What were you given?” I asked, my voice firm.

His jaw tightened. “Basically drugstore heroin,” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

He’s addicted. Probably became dependent on it during the entire situation, which means he had to have been administered it regularly, given the shit that gets you hooked after just one time. There was no way he hadn’t went out and got more. That was a craving that he hadn’t killed yet. Couldn’t kill. Not on his own. I sighed, my heart sinking. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“I’m not telling you,” he snapped, glaring at me.

I rolled my eyes. “Spencer, I think I can touch things now, sort of. I’ll find it if I have to.”

His shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he looked utterly defeated. “I need it,” he whispered.

His confession hit me harder than I expected. “Why?”

“Because he was right,” Spencer said, his voice trembling. “It makes everything quiet. And for someone like me, a little silence is…” He trailed off, his gaze distant. “It’s more than appreciated.”

I bit my lip, fighting the urge to tell him what he should do, why drugs are bad, and why addiction kills. “Okay. I get it. But it’s not an excuse.” I paused, searching his face. “It’s in the safe, isn’t it?”

His silence was all the confirmation I needed.

JUNE 28, 2008

Dark as it may have been, Spencer’s struggle had given me something I hadn’t felt in years—a purpose. That first night, there was fighting, crying, and, strangely enough, an ice cube or two. It was chaotic and raw, but it gave me something to hold onto. The following week was the same—a tense repetition of stubborn refusals and quiet breakdowns. But the week after? That’s when I noticed changes—not just in him, but in me.

I discovered I could interact with the physical world in ways I hadn’t been able to before. I could cook, organize, and even leave the apartment… well, sort of. My first attempt ended with me walking face-first into an invisible wall about twenty feet from the building’s exits. Still, it was progress. It was proof I wasn’t entirely stuck.

A year later, Spencer doesn’t like to talk about that time. To him, it’s a chapter better left in the past—something he’s learned from, something that shaped him, but not a story he’s eager to tell. His team knows, though. Hotch and Morgan make sure the hospital staff know not to administer narcotics if he’s ever injured. It’s a silent understanding among them, a protective measure born from experience.

When it does come up, Spencer is quick to deflect. If someone brings it up, he’ll steer the conversation into safer, stranger territory. Like the first time Penelope Garcia accidentally mentioned it. Without missing a beat, Spencer quipped, “Yes, but want to know something crazier? I’m roommates with a ghost.”

And that’s how Penelope Garcia ended up in our apartment.

The moment she stepped inside, I knew this wasn’t going to be a normal visit. Penelope was an explosion of energy and curiosity, her eyes immediately darting around the apartment, taking in every detail. And there was a lot to take in.

The space had evolved since Spencer first moved in. Back then, it was sparse, bachelor-esque—a couch, a coffee table, and not much else. But throughout the year, I’d filled it with touches of personality. A corner plant stand I’d built during one of Spencer’s longer cases A display shelf for mugs that had started as a simple project but quickly became a labor of love. And my favorite addition—a gallery wall anchored by a soft loveseat I’d claimed as my corner. I had to beg him to buy all the wood from Home Depot, a place I knew he had no interest of ever visiting. But the apartment had character now, a warmth that said: Someone lives here. And maybe someone else… doesn’t.

Penelope was enchanted. “Oh my God, look at this place! Spencer, this is so gorgeous! How could you even live here? You’re such a little nerd.”

Spencer rolled his eyes as he took her coat and hung it on the rack by the door. “It’s a long story,” he muttered.

It was then that I stepped into the living room, my footsteps light but enough to draw her attention. Penelope’s head whipped around, her eyes widening as she spotted me.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and awe. “You’re beautiful!”

I blinked in shock. “Wait—you can see me already?”

She tilted her head, her bright eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Oh, are you not usually visible to the mortal eye? Is this like a Beetlejuice thing, where only the chosen one can see you?”

I shook my head, still trying to process. “Not exactly. Spencer could see me right away, but Emily and Derek couldn’t. How… how can you?”

Penelope tapped her chin, thinking for a moment before a mischievous smile spread across her face. “I must be special,” she said with a playful shrug.

Spencer groaned from behind her. “Oh no. Don’t feed into this.”

Penelope grinned, spinning to face him. “Feed into what? Spencer, you’re living with a ghost, and not just any ghost—a gorgeous, articulate ghost! I demand details. Right now.”

#fairsexynasty #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid series #spencer reid self insert

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unclewaynemunson · 2 years ago

Text

Pt2 of the badly kept secrets of Eddie's heart monitor

After the first two weeks, Steve seems to have suddenly decided to stop visiting Eddie. No explanation, no goodbye: one day he's there, and then he... Isn't. It takes a few days, sometimes, Steve has a life of his own after all, but a whole week goes by with nothing. And another one. Eddie only knows he's alive – and in town – because the others told him when he asked. Maybe Steve's gotten tired of being surrounded by all that hospital sterility. Or maybe he's gotten tired of being around Eddie. Or maybe... Eddie groans and takes up a stare-down with the fucking heart monitor that's still attached to him at all times, his biggest enemy.

Unfortunately, he has way too much time on his hands, alone in this room and unable to do anything but lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. It makes it far too easy to let his thoughts spiral. Maybe – no, probably, certainly, undoubtedly – that goddamn heart monitor was the ideal help for Steve to decipher Eddie's biggest secret without any difficulties.

Yes, that must be the reason why Steve is staying away. Sure, the guy could tolerate being around “the freak” for a few hours a week out of pity, but of course he wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore upon finding out exactly what kind of freaky thoughts he really has about Steve. Steve was polite enough to pretend like he didn't notice the heart monitor speeding up every single time he got in Eddie's proximity, but of course, of course he noticed. He noticed and now he hates Eddie.

And honestly? He has every right to hate Eddie, with the way Eddie has been exploiting every opportunity to get Steve to touch him. Even though he'd regret it right away whenever the heart monitor couldn't shut the fuck up, Eddie never learned from his mistakes. He was even stupid enough to find meaning in the way Steve's touch would linger after helping him lie down or sit up, stupid enough to find tenderness in the way Steve held his arms when helping him out of his bed and to the bathroom. Obviously, Steve never wanted any of that. Obviously, that only made Steve uncomfortable, but the poor guy was too polite to lash out to the dude chained to a hospital bed healing from having all his organs chewed inside out.

Eddie sighs and closes his eyes; not because he wants to sleep, but because the staring contest with the heart monitor isn't really getting him anywhere. Maybe it's for the best that Steve is staying away. That way, Eddie might be able to get over him more easily. He doesn't deserve Steve's friendship anyway.

***

“I wanna visit Eddie today.”

“Alright, have fun,” Steve answers. “Tell him I said hi.”

Robin sighs dramatically. “No, dingus, you're coming with me. I need a ride.”

“No!” It comes out of his mouth a little too quick, a little too loud, and Robin raises her eyebrows at him.

“No, I can't,” he explains in a calmer voice.

Robin raises her eyebrows even further, making them disappear beneath her bangs altogether. “You literally just told me you don't have plans after work.”

“Yeah, but...” He lets his voice fade out and settles on muttering something incomprehensible.

“I did not understand one single word of what you were saying,” Robin points out. She sounds annoyed, but there's a vaguely amused smile playing around her lips, betraying how she really feels about the whole thing. “Seriously, what's up with you and Eddie? Did you have a fight or something?”

“No...”

“Until two weeks ago, you were at the hospital basically every spare minute of your time. You even canceled two dates just so you could spend more time with Eddie! And now, all of a sudden, you'd rather spend your evening on your own at home watching TV than visit your friend?”

“He's not my friend,” Steve protests.

She gives him a punch against his shoulder.

“Okay, I'm pretty sure he hates me, Rob.” Steve finally caves in. “He gets, like, very uncomfortable whenever I'm around. And I don't wanna add to his discomfort any more than necessary, so it's better I stay away from him.”

“Well, I don't know what on earth gave you that idea, but that is by far the biggest load of bullcrap I heard all week,” Robin says matter-of-factly. “He's asked about you every single time I visited him. He'll be happy to see you, dingus, you're coming with me today. No excuses.”

***

Like clockwork, the steady beeping of the heart monitor falters as soon as Eddie locks eyes with Steve. To make things even worse, what little color that is on Eddie's cheeks leaves his face immediately.

Despite the paleness of Eddie's face, Steve can't help but notice how good he looks in comparison to when he last saw him two weeks ago. He's sitting straight up, leaning against a pillow, and the look in his eyes is far from drowsy.

“S-Steve,” Eddie stutters out. “Hi.” He clears his throat. “And – and Robin, of course, hi! Good to see ya, Buck.” He stretches out his arms to embrace her, and Steve awkwardly comes up behind her. It feels weird not to follow Robin's example and give him a hug, but when he bows over the bed and wraps his arms around Eddie, the beeping immediately picks up speed again. To make things even worse, Eddie quite literally recoils from his touch, leaning away as far as possible and letting his arms hover in the air around Steve more than actually hugging him back.

When Steve looks at Robin, he notices that her eyes have grown about twice their normal size while they flash back and forth between Eddie, the machines around his bed, and Steve.

He locks eyes with her and tries to silently convey a See, I told you so about Eddie resenting him. She answers with a barely visible nod and relief fills Steve's chest. He's lucky to have Robin right by his side, his best friend, the one person he can always count on understanding him. She'll get them out of here in no time and leave Eddie in peace and –

“Oh shoot, sorry, I forgot I need to get a, um, a thing from the car,” Robin says. “I'll be right back.”

As she stumbles out of the room, Steve wants to scream at her that that was very much the opposite of what he wanted her to do, but she disappears before he can do anything about it, only leaving an awkward silence in her wake. So Steve has no choice but to turn back to Eddie and take his familiar place in the chair beside his bed.

“I kinda didn't expect to see you anymore.” Eddie is the one to break the silence. He sounds more distant than the last time Steve saw him. It must be worse than Steve thought: Eddie had been happy to be rid of him and now here he is again, after a meager two weeks of peace.

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles. “She insisted I come with her.”

“So you didn't wanna come?”

Steve chuckles darkly at the irony in that question, not really knowing how to answer that.

“Alright, I'm just gonna say it,” says Eddie when it becomes clear that Steve doesn't quite know what to say. “You figured out what I – how I felt about you, didn't you? Cause of the heart thing.”

Steve looks away, stares intently at the ugly dark blue linoleum carpet under his feet.

“Yeah,” he quietly confesses. There's no use denying it now, he figures.

Eddie heaves out a long sigh.

“For what it's worth: I'm really sorry, Steve, I didn't mean to make you-”

“It's fine,” Steve quickly interrupts him. He doesn't think he could bear Eddie's pity right now. “Don't worry about it. I just wanted to give you some space, y'know, get outta your hair for a bit. I didn't want to make this any more painful for you than it has to be.”

“Really?”

The heart monitor stutters again and Eddie's voice sounds weirdly strained. Steve can't help but look up. He's met with big brown eyes that are looking at him like Eddie actually cares about him. For a moment, Steve imagines to see tears, but then Eddie blinks and the illusion is gone.

“I um... I appreciate that, man,” Eddie says.

Another awkward silence dawns over the room.

“Wait,” Eddie says after a few seconds. “So you're not angry?”

“No!” Steve immediately replies – and it's true. He understands why Eddie doesn't like being around him, that too much has happened in the past for them to just move on and hold hands or some shit.

“It's not your fault,” he tells Eddie. He looks away again, back to the floor in front of his sneakers. “If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, right?”

Eddie huffs out a sound of disbelief. “Why, cause you're just too damn sexy, Harrington?”

Steve frowns. “Well, no, cause I was an asshole and I was mean to your friends during all of high school and it's stupid of me to expect you to just get over that shit and-”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

There's that stutter in the heart monitor again. It makes Steve wonder if he's putting Eddie's health at risk by simply existing next to him. Maybe it would be better to leave Eddie alone and wait in the car until Robin is done with her visit. What the hell is taking her so long anyway?

He keeps his eyes stubbornly focused on the blue floor. “Isn't that why you got so uncomfortable having me around?” he points out. “Look, I get it, man. I was an asshole, it's true. And it was selfish of me to keep showing up here only because you were too polite to say to my face what you thought about me. I was only thinking about myself and about how much I liked being here with you, it wasn't fair.”

All of a sudden, the soft touch of a hand lands on his shoulder. He hates how that makes his own heart speed up. If he were the one attached to a heart monitor, Eddie would've seen right through him in an instant, that's for sure.

He looks up and meets Eddie's wide-eyed, somewhat shocked face.

“You - you thought you were making me uncomfortable?” Eddie asks him, sounding like he's completely gobsmacked.

Steve frowns. “Isn't that what we've been talking about for the past five minutes?”

“Steve,” Eddie says. “I am so sorry. I didn't – I never – Look. Listen.” He removes his hand from Steve's shoulder and roughly wipes it over his face. His heart monitor accelerates even further. “Please don't hate me for what I'm about to tell you, okay?” He doesn't wait for a reaction, only uses his pause to take a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and looking right into Steve's.

“I'm gay, Steve. And that evil computer over there-” He points towards the heart monitor, “-keeps betraying my big, fat, gay crush on you. Every time you walk in here, or read my book to me, or do so much as smile at me, I just – God, I'm such a goner for you and there was no hiding it because of that stupid fucking thing.”

This time, Steve is quite sure he is not at all imagining the tears in Eddie's eyes.

“I thought that's why you stopped visiting. Cause you figured out how gay I am – about you – and you didn't want anything to do with that. With me. Being gay. For you.”

Eddie swallows. He lifts a hand and pulls a strand of hair over his face in a poor attempt to hide the truly terrified expression that's all over his features.

“Jesus, Eddie,” Steve breathes out. He can't even begin to comprehend how spectacularly wrong he has been about everything. It's almost like he's in shock. Only a minute ago, he thought Eddie despised him. And now, he has to process the revelation that the guy in fact has had a crush on him – a “big, fat, gay crush” – all along. That the reason his heart was behaving so weirdly was because Steve's proximity made him lovesick. That he recoiled from Steve's touches out of fear that the monitor would give him away and make Steve realize he was gay and in love with him.

“Please say something?” It sounds like a question, small and so afraid of what is about to come.

“Eddie, I – Jesus. This is... A lot. To process,” Steve manages to choke out.

“I know,” Eddie says. “I'm sorry I made you think I hated you. But... Please don't hate me. I really missed you visiting. We can be friends, right? You won't even have to touch me ever again, we can just hang out like bros, and I'll try to get my feelings for you under control, and you can-”

Steve finally gains control over his body again: he leaps forward and presses his lips against Eddie's with slightly more force than he had meant to do.

A surprised yelp escapes from Eddie's mouth, and the beeping of the heart monitor goes even crazier. It makes Steve's own heart do a goddamn cartwheel, that audible proof of what he is making Eddie feel.

He completely understands why the heart monitor is going batshit crazy right now; everything about this is fucking amazing. One of his hands finds its way to Eddie's surprisingly soft hair, and he revels in the feeling of touching Eddie again and in the taste of Eddie's lips against his own, and maybe he should just climb into Eddie's bed to–

“Thank God for that.”

They quickly jump apart to find Robin standing in the doorway, an annoyingly smug grin on her face.

“You two could really not be more stupid if you tried, huh?”

Steve squints at her while his hand blindly finds Eddie's on top of the sheets and curls itself around it. He feels his cheeks heat up, but he doesn't care. Nothing matters anymore, except for Eddie's hand warmly resting in his own.

“Did you even need anything from the car at all?” he asks Robin, raising an eyebrow at her.

“No, of course not,” Robin scoffs. “Just needed you idiots to finally get your shit together. I don't think I've ever met anyone more dense than the two of you, seriously! There were at least three moments when I almost barged in here to just smash your faces tog-”

“You were eavesdropping on us?!”

“Obviously.”

Steve opens his mouth, indignant and ready to tell her exactly how mean and evil she is, but she merely raises a hand and the look in her eyes is terrifying enough to shut him up before he has even started speaking.

“Hey, listen,” she says. Something in her face softens. “I'm really happy for you guys. Seriously, no matter how stupid you are, you two deserve every bit of happiness in the world.” She takes a step backwards towards the door. “I'll go wait in the car, dingus. Go kiss each other some more.”

And before Steve or Eddie can say anything, she winks and closes the door behind her.

Taglist: @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @saramelaniemoon @lololol-1234 @carlajim98 @7-starboi @acedorerryn @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @zoeweee @resident-gay-bitch @my2amgaythoughts @didntwant2come @steveshairspray @noodle-shenaniganery @thedragonsaunt @finntheehumaneater @queerriotgrrrl @co5m0 @dino-nuggets-posts

#in which robin is all of us #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #they're idiots your honor #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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sl-ut · 9 days ago

Note

Going to a music festival with Abby

also in response to this ask and references this fic

more college!abby

abby was a hostess at heart. there was something about being the one to organize group trips and activities and making an effort to make sure that everyone had a good time that really tickled her fancy, even when it was something that she was not entirely interested in herself.

she's not much of a drinker, and everyone knows that. but, what she lacks in a party spirit during the school year, she makes up for it on holidays and during the summer break.

it's rare for her to be able to let loose that often so when she does, she is the life of the party fr fr and always wants to make sure all of her friends are having a good time.

coachella was a bi-annual trip for her and her friends. they liked to do some sort of trip after they've all finished their exams, but coachella is expensive af and they're not all as rich as abby is (though she usually takes on a larger cut of the cost to make sure everyone can go i love her smmmm)

after what had happened during their new years getaway, abby understood that her gf was not rearing to be put in another confined space with owen again, but when he and mel announced their fourth break up of the year (and yes, it's only april) and both decided not to come, abby couldn't deny that she was relieved.

now she was able to relax and chill w her girl without having to keep an eye out for any micro (or macro) aggressions

they don't camp. abby wouldn't be caught dead allowing her girl to stay in such conditions, and she's wayyy too much of a clean freak to survive a weekend in those campsites.

instead, abby rents a boujie spanish style airbnb for her an her friends, a nice place to avoid the heat during the day with the ac and private pool before they headed to the festival for the evening.

abby and her gf drive down from seattle, making a cute little getaway out of it as they stop to stay at small bnbs and see the sights on their way to coachella valley, but it only takes them about two days with a few stops added in for fun, so it was rather fun for the pair of them.

everyone else flies down and meets them at the airbnb, all exhausted and glad to have agreed on a chill night by the pool rather than doing much excessive partying.

so after a quick run to the nearby grocery and liquor stores, they're all sipping some drinks and enjoying a little bbq around the pool.

as the evening is winding down, they all hear the sound of the front door's code being put in, all turning to find owen appearing with a large grin on his face.

"hey guys, guess i could make it after all. good thing you all put the address and code in the group chat, right?"

they all looked at each other in surprise, all of them having admitted to being glad that there would be no drama, but they all awkwardly greeted them.

"yeah, abs told me how upset you all were that i wasn't gonna make it this year so i figured i could work something out."

abby could tell her gf was PISSED

she was suddenly eerily quiet, and no longer interested in the movement of abby's fingers along her inner thigh

yes, she had said it to owen when she'd bumped into him at the gym, but she hadn't expected him to make a last minute decision to come. truthfully, she just didn't want to make anything more awkward when he'd said that he was bummed about not going.

while owen caught up with the group, y/n went inside to take a quick shower, wanting to remove the sweat and chlorine from her skin

she made herself scarce while owen settled in, not wanting to have to play nice with him or pretend that she wasn't annoyed with abby.

owen cornered her in the kitchen when she finally reappeared, coming over to "clear the air" but she could clearly see how smug he was looking at her.

"i'm literally here to hang out with everyone except for you, owen. fuck off."

he def played the "she's just insecure cause i'm abby's ex" card all weekend but literally no one cared.

she tried to give abby the cold shoulder for the rest of the night, but after abby apologized and explained what happened she ended up giving her the warm finger instead (that sounds so gross but im laughing so im leaving it in.)

they end up having fun, lazing in the sun all day and then getting dressed up to go to the festival at night

abby would hold her gf on her shoulders so she could have a better view

abby also looked soooooo sexyyyyyyy

her outfits were pretty tame for coachella but she still looked so hot

day one she wore a slutty little vest, only buttoning the top two to cover her chest while her abs were able to peek through, and a pair of denim shorts. she alternated for the other days but they all generally had the same vibe.

at the end of every night, they were all pretty tipsy when they got back to the airbnb so they would spend maybe an hour or so more drinking and having a good time before she and her gf would sneak off together

but they weren't very sneaky at all bc the rest of them could hear exactly what was going on

abby was hitting it from the back, the side, the front, from below, from above, and every other possible angle

thank GAWD she packed her fav strap

but overall this sounds so much fun even tho i generally don't love music festivals i love the vibes and i love abby smmmm

#x reader #reader insert #imagines #lesbian #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #college!abby anderson #college!abby anderson x reader

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dystopyx-blog · 5 months ago

Text

I'm in a dark place right now.

Yandere Trey x reader, stuck in twst without meds. Aside from the typical yandere stuff, this one has heavy themes of infantillization.

This is how I'm taking care of myself. Make sure to take care of yourselves as well and skip this if it's too much ❤️

You were struggling with school, obviously, it's literally not your world. But you had Trey, who had been diligently tutoring you every day after class. You felt like you were finally getting somewhere. From D's to C's. You were fucking proud of yourself.

Not many around you were as impressed.

"It's a start." Riddle had said with a simple nod. "Keep up the good work."

That was pretty much the response you got from most. Grimm and Deuce were supportive, Ace was Ace. Then there were those like Leona who outright sneered at it, telling you you had nothing to be proud of.

But Trey told you he was proud of you.

You were early to your next study session, already looking through the textbook. You beamed up at Trey as he put himself down. "Hey!"

"Hey..." He greeted back. "Started already?"

"Mhm!" You chirped. "What Riddle said really motivated me!"

Trey chortled. "Did it now?"

"Yep! I mean, I know I probably won't ever catch up to his level, he has years ahead of me, but I know at least that improvement is possible!"

"Really?" You raised a brow. "I find that hard to believe. The teach

You grinned at Trey, who was still chuckling quietly to himself.

"Trey?"

"Oh, sorry." He stifled another laugh. "That's cute. Of course you want to improve, but don't put too much pressure on yourself, okay?"

"Of course not."

"Good." He ruffled your hair.

You had improved a lot since Trey started helping you.

You hadn't been improving much beyond that, though.

You continued to work on the same things, never really advancing.

"Trey," you said one day, studying the same old stuff as usual. He hummed in acknowledgement, so you continued. "I feel like we haven't really... advanced?"

"How so?"

"I mean... I feel like everything you help me with is all the same level."

"Mhm."

"And..." You made a gesture with your hands, unsure how to go on. "Yeah. I just kinda thought you'd start teaching me more advanced things."

He laughed. "Why did you think that?"

"Because... so I can improve?"

"You have improved. No one expected you to even get this far. We're all very proud of you."

"But–"

"Don't push this. The reason I haven't branched out is because there isn't anything else at your level. There's no point trying to teach you something you'll never get. Sorry."

You frowned. "Well that sounds like bullshit."

"Language."

"Well it does!"

Trey sighed, leaning forward to look you in your eyes (forcing you to now maintain eye contact).

"No one ever actually expected you to, you know... do well in school. It's just unrealistic to expect someone like you, so far out of your league, to be on the same level as any of the other students here." He put his hand over yours, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. "I'm sorry."

You stared at him. "Someone like me?"

"You know I meant no harm–"

"How the fuck else could you mean it?"

"Language,"

"No, dont you 'language' me, you tell me what you mean."

He sighed, turning away from you and pinching the bridge of his nose. When he turned back to you, his expression was serious.

"Someone who can barely function in day to day life, let alone at a school like Night Raven College."

Your heart dropped.

Trey put on his sympathetic closed eye smile. "I know it's hard to hear, but its really not worth it to put so much pressure on yourself. Why don't i bake you something yummy, hmm? You can help me in the kitchen."

He offered you his hand, but you swiped it away.

"Don't fucking talk to me," you hissed gathering his things.

You didn't look at him, even when he sternly addressed you by name.

"You're being childish." He said. You scoffed.

"I thought that was part for the course for someone like me."

"Are you trying to prove me correct?"

"Eat shit and die."

He just watched you leave with arms folded.

Of coutse, being without your antidepressants made you extra sensitive, so it was less than a second before the waterworks started up, tears pouring from your face and your breathing coming out in staggered puffs.

You were barely outside of Heartslabyul Dorms when you collapsed against the wall, hugging your legs to yourself and burying your face behind your knees.

You hear footsteps. You don't look up. You want to be alone. You should've forced yourself to keep going so you could be withing the (relative) privacy of your room.

Even with auditory processing that makes your ability to tell where sound comes from basically nonexistent, you can tell the footsteps are approaching you. Even though you'd rather not deal with anyone at all right now, you hope it's Ace or Deuce. Or Cater. Maybe even Riddle.

But of course, it's Trey.

"You're being dramatic.

"And you're being fucking mean."

"I'm being honest."

You're being ableist, that's what.

"Why does this matter so much to you?" He sighs as he asks you.

"Thought you were my friend."

"Of course I'm your friend–"

"I thought you believed in me."

"Of course I believe in you. But I also have realistic expectations and I don't want to see you push yourself and end up with nothing. Why does it even matter to you so much that you do well? Almost all of these subjects are completely irrelevant to you. You have to attend so Grimm can attend, that whole half student thing, but shouldn't he be putting in the effort, not you? Honestly, i think its unfair how much you have to deal with here. You have a chemical imbalance and no way to treat it, and yet you're still expected to carry on as the only magicless student at a school for mages, help in magical emergencies that even staff are unequipped to deal with, and then whatever else Crowley throws at you. Aren't you tired?"

He's preaching to the choir, and of course you nod.

"You shouldn't have to deal with this." You didn't even realize he was sitting next to you until you feel his arms wrap around you. "But I'll continue to help you. I promise." He stands up, bringing you with him. "Let's go to the kitchen, yeah? I have just the thing for this."

You barely process anything, sitting on a stool in the Heartslabyul kitchen. You wouldn't recognize it, but Trey used his signatures smell to mute everything for you.

He hums as he works. Although he doesn't always "bake with love," that's mostly circumstantial. After all, baking is really more of a strategy. But this is an exception. And if any treat of his deserves the description "made with love," it would be this one.

He watches you eat it with a smile on his face. "How is it?"

You're out cold before you can answer.

Trey has you locked up somewhere. You're not sure where, but there's no way it's Heartslabyul. You're kept in one room, with an adjoining bathroom. There are activities, all of them baby proofed. Some of them even intended for babies and small children.

Because aren't you just a small child? You know nothing of this world, you're a slave to your emotions, you can barely control yourself.

Trey reminds you of this while stroking your hair and cradling you in his arms after a nasty tantrum.

"You can't survive out there on your own."

The infantillization is at its worse when you're "bad" for him. When you're "good," he treats you like a normal adult, like he normally would. But as soon as you step out of line you'll be lucky if all he does is belittle you in that sickly sweet condescending tone, because he's gone so far as bottle feeding you or even monitoring your bathroom use. (That one typically gets you to behave real quick.)

And the worst part?

He really does make you feel helpless.

#yandere #yandere rambles #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #stuck in twst without meds #yandere trey clover #twst trey #trey clover #trey clover x reader #yandere trey x reader #sorry trey clover

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 1 month ago

Note

I'm literally CHOMPING AT THE BIT thinking about 2000s dave mustaine x a lil younger (early20s) reader but she got the opportunity to be the producer for metallica and he started picking her up from work n bringing her coffee. Therefore Dave is bound to meet James and Lars everytime he does and he gets quite possessive of her, bc his girl is constantly working in close proximity to James who mayhaps had an eye out for her but then gets confronted by Dave regarding his advances towards her. Maybe it'd end up with Dave getting almost pungent with the pda whenever tallica is in the same room, some possessive smut ecttt

Warnings: Smut, jealousy, Dave being possessive, rough sex, semi public sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), cum eating, voyeurism, masturbation, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Dave always tried to be supportive of you, you wouldn't let him use his name or money to get you anywhere but he was always right there with you.

When you got the gig you knew he wouldn't be happy, he'd get you anything else in the world but letting you sit for weeks at a time with Metallica alone? He wouldn't allow it, so you didn't tell him who you were producing the record for.

It was going fine, you were getting the sound just right for them and the band was nice to you, especially James. Because you distanced yourself so much from Dave on a professional level they never knew you were together, which led James to believe he had a shot.

You'd come home and talk about your day, smiling and giggling about it and Dave would sit there and play with your hair and rub your shoulders, or you'd talk while making dinner with him. You weren't interested in James in any way, but he was nice and funny so you were bound to tell stories, being careful to not disclose his name.

Dave was paying a little too much attention to it at times, that smile, that laugh, it was his. "Maybe I should drop you off tomorrow." He said while he stirred the pot.

"I told him about you, Dave." You assured, hugging his arm.

"I wasn't asking." He said more firmly, he still gave you a smile. Your chest tightened, this wasn't good, Dave finding out you'd been around his ex-band this whole time, it had been James hitting on you this whole time.

You tried to focus on other things but it was hard, your mind continuing to run back to Dave finding James alone with you. You stayed cuddled up to him throughout the night as you always did and then got ready in the morning, Dave hovering over you as you did.

You gave him the directions while he drove, holding your coffee he bought you between your thighs. You stared out the window anxiously as you neared the building. "You're sure this is the right place?" He asked, of course he knew what building Metallica was in, or the general area, you just hoped he wouldn't put two and two together, but he wasn't stupid.

"Yeah, just drop me off on the curb." You said, already reaching for the door.

Dave chuckled and reached for your hand, stopping you. "I'm not your dad dropping you off at school, I'll take you to the front door." He said, resting his hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing small circles on you.

You bit your lip, watching as the doors got closer. All you had to do was kiss him goodbye and get out, mission possible. Until James came out to greet you.

Dave stopped the car short and stared at James, waiting for him to walk away but he didn't. When James started flirting with you you told him about your relationship with Dave, it didn't make him stop though. "Why's he staring at us?" He asked, looking to you with a knowing look. "Sweetheart, tell me why he's staring at us." Your gaze fell and he tilted your head up to look at him. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He asked through gritted teeth.

"I didn't want you to over react." You said, pulling his hand from your face and holding it in yours. "It's just work, Davie, you know I wouldn't do that to you."

"It's not you I'm worried about, it's him, the fucking cunt." He stated. "I don't want you in there with them."

You sighed, glancing back to James who was watching with a cigar in his mouth, enjoying the show. "I can't just stop now, Davie, I have work to do." You said, looking to him with a small pout.

He let out a heavy sigh, gaze flickering between you and James. "Go." He ordered. "I'll bring you lunch later."

"What time?" You asked as you grabbed your things. He just gave you a look and watched you leave. If he gave you the time you'd know when he was coming, crazy, he wouldn't be able to catch anything if there was something to catch.

He waited as you walked to the door, James watched too, eyes shamelessly trailing down your body because he knew Dave was staring at him. James walked up behind up, tossing his cigar on the ground and stomping it out as he came up to you, resting his hand on your waist as you slipped into the building, out of Dave's view.

You tried to keep your distance from James, you knew you weren't doing anything wrong all the other days you were just being cautious. Dave could be jealous, and he wasn't one to back down from a fight, your only real hope was that he never started fights. So you sat away from James and tried to keep the conversation as professional as possible.

It didn't help that it would just be you and James working on vocals, he liked to have his time perfectly to himself, said it helped him get focused on in the mood. He was genuinely doing the work to get the record done, but slowly. Metallica had money to spend and it was just his time, he could do whatever he wanted in the studio. Just the two of you.

James was fumbling around with the buttons, he wasn't stupid he knew how those boards worked. He was just trying to get things to sound the way he wanted while you sat on the couch flipping through one of the magazines lying around. "Your boyfriend doesn't like me, does he?" James asked in a teasing tone.

You chuckled and shook your head. "He likes you, you know that." You said, they'd already made up after everything, it was good for them, didn't mean Dave was fine with him hitting on you. "He just doesn't like us."

"Oh, so there's an us to like?" James said, smiling brightly as he swiveled the chair around to look at you. Your face lit up, you hadn't meant it like that.

"No, jesus, just like... You know." You mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

James got up and made his way over to you, taking the spot next to you and throwing his arm on the back of the couch, leaning in to you. "Why're you even with him, huh? What does he have that I don't?" You didn't like the way he was talking, even if it was just some twisted little joke to him.

You pushed him off and he went without a fight, moving away from you and giving you space. The movement didn't go unnoticed when Dave walked in right on time to catch it, immediately thinking the worst. "You motherfucker-" He growled, taking a few steps closer before you got in the way.

"Dave, please," you started, holding your hands to his shoulder to stop him, "let me explain."

"What's there to explain?" He demanded, voice raising. James sat on the couch still smiling.

"See, he sees you with another guy and loses all trust in you." James said, knowing he was getting under Dave's skin. "I wouldn't do that, I'd let you sit in their laps because I know, at the end of the day, you'd be getting back into my bed begging to be stuffed with my cock." That was it for Dave.

He dragged you out of the room and down the hall to a nearby room. He threw you in and slammed the door shut, locking it. "You never let him fuck you?" He asked.

"Excuse me?" You asked, furious he would even ask such a thing.

"I know you didn't just say it."

"No! I did not fuck James, but maybe I should have if you were going to treat me like I did anyway!" Dave grabbed you by your neck, squeezing just enough to make you shut up.

"Don't you ever say anything like that again." He said through gritted teeth. He let go of your neck and started undress you, ripping your blouse open, sending buttons flying every which way. He didn't bother much with your pants, getting them halfway down your thighs before pinning you to the door.

He brought his hand down hard on your ass, making your body jolt. "Fuck were you doing wearing these here?" He asked, voice right in your ear as he spoke, tugging on the thin straps of your panties, a fancy pair. "Don't even remember these, when'd you get them?" James got them, it was for your birthday and you hadn't thought much of them... Only you definitely had. "Bitch." Again his hand came down on you, the other cheek this time.

"I'm sorry, Dave, I love you, only you, I promise."

"Are you sure about that?" You heard the unbuckling of his belt and then the zipper of his jeans. He pulled his cock out and pushed it through your folds, gathering your wetness. "Gonna take me, gonna tell me how much you love getting fucked by me, and you're gonna make sure James hears it from down the hall, got it?"

You nodded eagerly. "Yes, I-I will, gonna be loud for you, please, just fuck me." You begged, hands on the door and pushing your ass back into him.

"Good girl." He purred, tip pushing into your pussy before he bottomed out in a quick thrust, making you gasp. Dave was big, more than just length he was also thick and veiny. "Oh, fuck, pussy's so tight, just keeps sucking me in deeper." He chuckled as he started moving, he knew it took you a minute to get used to him so he went slow but it quickly got faster, thrusts getting harsher, his hips snapping into yours.

Moans ripped from your throat, Dave just laughed, loving that he was making you scream for him, and James just had to sit there and listen. He knew just where to hit, the angle that made you the loudest, and he hit it repeatedly. "Hah! Oh-oh, fuck-fuck, Dave!" You moaned, back arching under him against the door.

He had his hands planted on either side of your head on the door, foot planted on either side of yours, caging you in. You couldn't move if you wanted to but it was getting harder to stay standing. "Gonna-gonna cum, gonna make me cum!" You moaned, hitting the door to get out how good it felt. Dave laughed harder.

"That's it, keep doing that, let everyone know how good I fuck you." He mused, leaning down to your ear to whisper; "Let James know how full you feel with me inside you."

You hit the door again, gasping as you felt your high approaching. "So-so full, can't- fuck! Can't think." You babbled, leaning against the door completely, letting Dave sandwich you between him and the wood. He held your hips now, holding you in place so he could pound you through your high.

"That's right, getting all fucked stupid on my dick." He said through grunts, his own high creeping up on him. "Cock's in your brain, sweetheart, making you all dumb." You couldn't take it anymore, heat hitting you hard as you came, juices running down your legs.

Dave didn't stop, chasing his own high which hit him soon after, your gummy walls squeezing every drop of cum from him. He let out a few deep grunts in your ear as he came with a few final thrusts, hands a bruising hold on your hips. "Fuck... such a good girl for me." He praised, kissing down the back of your neck. "But I can't send you back in there with him like this, can I?" He asked, pulling out of you and getting on his knees.

You stared down at him with wide eyes as he turned your around and started kissing up your inner thighs, licking up the mess that had spilled. "Wait-wait, Davie, no, you-you can't just- ah!" You were cut off when he started lapping at your cunt, eating his cum out of you.

Your hands ran through his hair, pulling and tugging on it as more moans ripped from you, flooding from your lips like a second language. "Fuck- Davie, gonna-gonna make me-!" Again you were cut off when he pushed two fingers into you, pumping them in and out of you while his tongue went to work on your clit. Your eyes rolled back and your knees buckled.

Dave was nice enough to help you down slowly as you came again. He pushed his fingers into your mouth, making you taste him while you sat in his lap. Dave smiled down at you and kissed your temples. "So good for me." He purred, littering kisses all over your face.

He waited with you, letting you get back to your senses before lifting you up. "Gotta get back to your job, right?" You nodded, clinging to him.

"Not gonna leave, are you?" You asked, looking up at him with a small pout.

Dave chuckled and shook his head, happily letting you lean on him, an arm wrapped around your waist. "No, I'm not leaving, I brought lunch for both of us, that is if James didn't eat it." He opened the door and there he was, James standing across the hall with a smile on his face. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his hand shoved in his shorts groping something long.

"Couldn't have stayed in there a little longer? Liked hearing your pretty voice." He mused, hand shifting beneath the fabric.

#megadeth smut #megadeth imagines #megadeth fanfiction #megadeath #megadeth x reader #megadeth #megadeth x you #dave mustaine rp #dave mustaine imagines #dave mustaine fanfiction #dave mustaine #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine smut #dave mustaine x you #metallica #metallica smut #james hetfield #james hetfield smut

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simvanie · 4 months ago

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7 Sins Legacy - generation 5 (gluttony)

Gulshan: You look gorgeous. Temperance: I did my best. After all, you did tell me to dress up for tonight... Which also made me curious. Why?

Gulshan: I- ...just wanted to do something special for you. I made us one of my best dishes and even got the Von Haunt Estate Merlot, your favorite wine-

Temperance: Wait. Gulshan: ...Yeah? Temperance: I need to tell you something. You know I haven't been feeling too well physically lately...

Gulshan: Yeah, I know. Temperance: So I called the doctor yesterday. Just to be sure. And I told her my symptoms. And she uh...-

-She told me to take a pregnancy test so she could rule out some causes if it was negative, and to make an appointment if it turned out to be positive... So I went to see her this afternoon. Gulshan: But she told you to see her if... IT WAS POSITIVE?!

Temperance: Yes! I wanted to tell you in person when I got home, but I also didn't want the news to completely overtake what you've planned for tonight. Gulshan: No, don't worry. I- wow... I know we've discussed having kids at some point, I just wasn't expecting it to happen so soon-

Temperance: Wait, there's more... Literally. The doctor had me get an ultrasound to check if everyting is alright, which luckily is the case, and then she found out that... Gulshan, we're having twins.

Gulshan: Tw- TWINS?! But I only ordered one! I mean- one at a time at least!

Temperance couldn't help but laugh. And seeing her so happy about the news that she's pregnant seemed to help calm the stress Gulshan could suddenly feel in his chest.

Temperance: I know! I was surprised too! Although we both should've known that especially you don't always get what you order- Lord Hamlet: Oink? 🧐

Gulshan: AH! Hamlet! God, you scared me... Don't look at me like that. We discussed this! You know that you ending up being the wrong order is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Look, right now isn't really the best time-

-I left some food for you in the kitchen. And I promise that I'll give you lots of cuddles tonight if you stay there until your mom and I are done here, okay? Now go and see if you can find what I made for you.

Lord Hamlet: OINKOINKOINK! 😃 Temperance: See? You have nothing to worry about. One baby or two, I can already tell that you'll be an amazing dad.

Gulshan: That's not- ...what I'm worried about. The restaurant isn't financially where it should be and now we're going to have two kids. TWO, Temperance. That means we'll have to get everything double. Double the clothes, diapers, toys-

-How can I be sure that we'll be able to give them everything they deserve? Temperance: You worry too much, you know that? Trust yourself. We'll make it work, I know we will.

Gulshan: ...I'm sorry, it's just a lot to take in all at once. But you're right- Whatever it takes, we'll make it work. I love you, Temperance. There is no one I'd rather do this with than you, and that's why I want to ask you something...

#twinsss!! the first heir that will be a twin!#also I love this olive color velvet dress on Temperance #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims #sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 gameplay #7sinslegacy #gen5 gluttony #gulshan #temperance #lord hamlet

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luckykiwiii101 · 4 months ago

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I saw the "dream part time job" manifestation and got inspired, so I manifested a job for myself. I'd been unemployed for months because no job was favourable to my conditions and it was really hard to find one that was.

Yesterday I got a DM from this woman I met ages ago (2020) -

we hang out for a week back then because, by chance, she'd heard from a friend that I played piano really well and she wanted some classes just so she could learn the basics, she'd paid me for the particular classes, that was literally it, I knew that woman for A WEEK.

- her family is absurdly rich and she has her own brand. She asked me to meet up with her for a "job opportunity" and I was already shocked cause I didn't expect it to come like that, but I was not about to reject it. So I went to the meeting.

I shit you not, she told me she's moving countries with her husband and she wants me to take care of her business here, fully take over because she needs someone "of trust" for that...

SOMEONE OF TRUST. SHE'D KNOWN ME FOR A WEEK 5 YEARS AGO.

I gotta work mostly from home and it's a job I know how to do, she even gave me a new computer to manage. I read the contracts, it's honestly crazy. So now the job is mine. She's giving me a few weeks of training before she moves away, I'm sure I won't need weeks, she just likes to be safe.

But yeah... holy shit.

SUCCESS STORY

So funny to see how things unfold when manifesting!! Enjoy your new job hun!!

#void state #void #law of assumption #loa tumblr #loassumption #loa blog #loablr #manifestation #loa #the void state #loa success story #loa success #law of assumption blog #neville goddard #law of manifestation #edward art #loassblog #loa advice

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kikker-oma · 8 months ago

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I made another thing based off of your whumptober art :)

This one in particular:

The old man sat on a log near the crackling campfire, awake for his watch and he had set his eye on someone in particular who had seemed...off. The vet was tossing and turning in his bedroll, eyes squeezed shut when he could see his face, but it wasn't relaxed like when he was asleep. He eventually crept down and whispered, "Vet?"

The veteran's eyes opened slightly, and the old man just noticed the bags under his eyes. "Yeah?" He replied in a whisper.

"I noticed you hadn't gone to sleep yet. It's third watch."

Legend groaned. "I haven't been able to fall asleep for a while, but I tried everything I could. Nothing to do about it."

That was worrying.

"Are you sure? I know a remedy, that you most likely haven't tried."

"Go for it, old man, I'll do anything at this point."

He pulled out the ocarina, and played the Song of Healing, closing his eyes to let the soothing melody reach the vet's waiting ears. He nearly fell asleep himself but finished the tune and opened his eyes. The veteran had his eyes closed and though he wasn't quite asleep yet, Time smiled, hoping that this would do the trick and did a quick patrol.

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

The old man noticed things. From the vet's stumbling and sloppiness during battle, to mess ups with conversations and answers. His seemingly random mood swings which seemed quite unusual for him. He had confessed that the song didn't do anything and for literal magic to not work, well, Time was more than confused. He had kept it to himself because the veteran pleaded with him to not worry the others.

One night he had second watch, and the vet had somehow ended up with first. He slept peacefully until he woke up and realized it was his turn for watch, and he hadn't been woken up by someone else. (His internal clock told him it was approximately halfway into second watch.) So he got up immediately, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and what he saw shook him.

The vet was trembling on his knees, and when the old man rushed to talk he noticed the expression on his face. There were tears pouring down his face, and his eyes were barely open, staring off into space. The old man noticed that the veteran's hands were shaking even more, arms wrapped around air. "Veteran?" Time spoke loudly. "Link?"

When he got no response, he got down on his knees in front of Legend and took his arms, repeating his name. "Uncle?" Legend mumbled wearily. "What're you doin'?"

"I need you to stay here, I'm going to go find help."

"Nnnooo, don't leave me," Legend gasped deliriously. "If you go to th' castle..."

"I'm not going to the castle," Time tried to reassure. "I just need you to stay with me, okay?"

"M'kay."

He whistled sharply, getting everyone up because this situation was getting dire and he needed help. "What's going on?" The captain questioned, voice a bit frantic.

"Our veteran. He needs help."

They were at his side instantly. "'ncle who're these people," the vet slurred, still staring off into nothing.

"Is he sick?" Sky frowned.

"I don't think he's been sleeping, at all recently," Time worried. "He said he tried everything but still couldn't sleep."

"I'm not trained for this stuff, I'm afraid," Warriors shook his head. "Traveller?"

"All I know how to do is magic," The traveller replied and shrugged looking downcast at the fact.

"Oh!" Wind snapped his fingers. "Someone on Outset had a similar problem. It was because they were really stressed and they fell asleep once they were more relaxed."

"Stress? That seems plausible," Warriors nodded.

"Link," Time uttered, catching the veteran's slow attention. "Tell me, are you stressed about anything? Worried?"

"I mean, 's a quest, Uncle, of course I'm going to be stressed sometimes."

"I know, but right now, what's troubling you specifically?"

"You're always so kind," Legend muttered after a long moment.

"This isn't going anywhere," Four whispered.

"Uncle, don't die."

Time swallowed concern for that statement, said with desperation and he looked helplessly at the rest of them. What could they really do? Why couldn't he figure this out? The chain looked at them as a leader, so why was he feeling so helpless right now? Why couldn't he help one of his boys?

Then there was one sentence that nearly drove the old man to his knees.

"If you die, Grandma Malon is gonna kill me...she already lost th' Hero 'f Time, and you're just as important. Don' leave me to save the world like he did."

THAT LAST LINE OMGGGGGGGG

LOOOOOORE!!

SECRETS SPILLED!!

THE REALIZATIONS TO FOLLOW!! AAAAAAGGHHHGGSHXJSBAHAIA

The Ocarina was such a good try, poor boys just don't know how they can deal with this sweet little sleep deprived man🥺

Gosh sleep deprivation is no joke, it's brutal for real

Thank you so much for writing this Uni! Your writing is a treasure as always❤️❤️❤️

#sweet uniquevoidflowers #ahhhhh I love that you wrote for that whumptober drawing!#and made such a cool story for it too🥰#fics for oma #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu time

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cosmerelists · 7 months ago

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Top 10 Cosmere Fake-Outs: Ranked by How Well they Fooled Me

By "fake-outs," I mean times when the narrative tried to convince me that something had happened or was true (for example: this character is DEAD!) when in fact it was all a lie.

By necessity, THIS POST WILL CONTAIN LOTS OF MAJOR SPOILERS!

Specifically: Major spoilers for Warbreaker, Stormlight Archives, Mistborn Eras 1 and 2, and Yumi & the Nightmare Painter. I won't put character names in the titles of the entries, but if you haven't read all of those listed works, please move on!

#10: A Words of Radiance Death

In Words of Radiance, Jasnah is attacked by assassins while on board a ship with Shallan. Shallan sees Jasnah's lifeless body being stabbed, and then the ship literally goes down in flames. Jasnah has certainly died!

Yeah...I didn't buy it for even one second, to be honest. I was twiddling my thumbs waiting for the reveal that Jasnah had actually survived, because of course she did. (This is not a complaint!)

#9: A Secret Project Death

At the end of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter, Yumi dies, and it's a real fake-out. Sanderson goes so far as to have a secret, extra epilogue that isn't in the table of contents where her death is reversed. I wasn't quite as sure while reading that Yumi would survive--at least, not as sure as I was when Jasnah "died." But I was pretty sure.

#8: A Mistborn Era 1 Death

Specifically: Kelsier. When Kelsier dies at the end of Book 1 (!), I was shocked...and suspicious. Would Sanderson really kill off a character like Kelsier in Book 1??? Well, as it turns out...yes. But also no. Because Kelsier clings to "life" as a Cognitive Shadow and is still off doing things in future books. So I still count this one as a fake-out!

#7: Another Mistborn Era 1 Death

Another character who "dies" in Mistborn Era 1 is Marsh, Kelsier's brother. They find what they think is his completely obliterated body and are like "oh no." Of course, any time there is a completely obliterated body, we as readers will be suspicious: if it's really Marsh, why no face? But I actually wasn't too very suspicious of this one because Marsh felt like a character who could die, narratively speaking. I didn't, like, drop my book out of shock when he turned back up, but I was more surprised than I had been with the others.

#6: Just An Innocent Old Man in Way of Kings

This is referring to Taravangian, who in Way of Kings is presented as a dottering old man who's well-meaning but not too bright. I'm not going to lie, I bought this one hook, line, and sinker. The villain reveal for Taravangian did take me almost completely by surprise! The impact was only lessened insofar as I wasn't that interested in Taravangian pre-reveal, so I didn't feel, like, betrayed or anything.

#5: Nice Guys in Warbreaker

I 100% believed that Denth and Tonk Fah worked for Lemex, were relatively sad about his totally natural death, and were sincerely working for Vivenna afterwards. This is in spite of the fact that the narrative was not at all shy about dropping hints that this was not true. There's the fact that we're told people with tons of breaths are strong & healthy...yet I was like, "Yeah, makes sense that Lemex died of natural causes." We see Vasher position himself against Vivenna and company, and yet I was like, "Vasher probably has his reasons but it's not like Vivenna and company are doing bad things." This one was a shock especially because I liked Denth & Tonk Fah!

#4: Dalinar and Amaram are BFFs forever

This one runs the risk of being more of a plot twist than a fake-out...but hear me out. We're led to believe that Dalinar has finished investigating Amaram and has decided not to believe Kaladin; he and Amaram are BFFs forever and ever. Then there's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment when Dalinar is "out sick" for a week, but I for one thought nothing of that. Then it turns out that Dalinar was in fact laying a trap for Amaram, which Amaram waltzed right into, and Dalinar finally learned the truth. So I think it counts as a fake-out: I was certainly very surprised when Dalinar called Kaladin up "for an apology" and it turned out to be Amaram who needed to apologize.

#3: Jasnah's Soulcaster

Shallan's whole plot line in Way of Kings is centered around her trying to steal Jasnah's very real and functional Soulcaster by swapping it for Shallan's broken one. Personally, it did not occur to me for even a second that Jasnah's Soulcaster also didn't work and was also a fake, so Shallan simply swapped one fake for another. In part, this was because I did not understand how any of the magic worked on Roshar at this point. But still. It definitely fooled me good.

#2: A Mistborn Era 2 Death

I will admit, it never even entered into the realm of possibility for me that Wax's old wife, Lessie, wasn't dead. We watched her die in the flashback. She was buried. She felt like just one of those fridged women and I had not even a shred of doubt that her death actually happened. I was so sure that when Bleeder literally reverted into Lessie's form and voice, I just assumed she had eaten Lessie's bones. This one really, REALLY shocked me.

#1: Mistborn Era 1: Follow the Ancient Text

But even so, I think the fake-out that most shocked me was the one at the end of Well of Ascension. Vin knew, per the very accurate ancient writings left behind by Kwaan, that she had to resist the power offered by the Well and give it up--even if that meant letting someone she loved die. This felt like such a classic climax and source of tension, that I was just waiting with baited breath hoping that Vin would give up the power. And she did. And it was a mistake. Because it turns out that if you copy down Kwaan's words--which were inscribed in metal so that they could not be altered--on to paper, then Ruin's gonna alter them and you can't trust the ancient prophecy after all. In following the "prophecy" at great personal cost, Vin was just doing what Ruin wanted anyway.

I'm still not over this one.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Stormlight Archive Spoilers #Mistborn Spoilers #ssp3 spoilers #Warbreaker spoilers #I won't tag with characters to lessen spoiler risk in character tags #Cosmere spoilers

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