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asdfghjklmals · 5 months

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CRAVINGS✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. mentions of sex and suggestiveness at the end. WORD COUNT: 2.9k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend’s pregnancy cravings keep her up at night and she ends up waking up satoru because of it. AUTHOR'S NOTE: this all started because i was craving fried chicken. i love writing for pregnant oc gojo girlfriend. she is just so funny. 🤭 consider this my late happy birthday fic for satoru. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

toss. turn. toss. turn.

you felt satoru’s arm twitch as you kept tossing and turning in his embrace. the half-asleep sorcerer opened his eyes as they adjusted to the dark to look at you.

“you okay?” he asked as he murmured into the crevice of your neck.

he brought your body closer to his chest, stroking your cheek gently. you sighed, embarrassed to tell him what was running through your mind. your emotions have been all over the place during your pregnancy, so you were feeling vulnerable. pregnancy hormones were no joke.

you pouted your lips at him, “if i tell you, will you promise not to laugh at me?”

“why would i laugh at you?” satoru scoffed in disbelief. he reassured your feelings like he always did, “i know it’s been getting harder for you to sleep since baby gojo is growing so big and strong in your belly… so, tell me what’s wrong sweetheart.”

you pursed your lips and hesitated before leaning towards satoru’s ear to whisper to him. this was normal… right?

“satoru, baby gojo is violently craving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

and you had to have it now.

satoru laid back down on his back and dropped his head on his pillow, he turned his head to stare back at you. he then glanced at his phone on the glass nightstand beside him, checking the time. all he knew was that it was an ungodly hour of the night.

3:42 am.

“right now?” he asked, “like… baby gojo doesn’t want it for breakfast instead?”

you frowned at your baby daddy and gave him your best puppy dog eyes that you knew he couldn’t say no to.

“yes, right now. for like… a midnight snack.” you replied with a twinge of guilt, “—but it’s okay, babe. i can make it myself. i know you have work in the morning.”

you turned away from satoru so you could roll over on your side of the bed to attempt to sit up. you could feel baby gojo kicking your side, happy that you were moving around at this time of night. your baby had always been extremely active while you were supposed to be sleeping.

“no, babe—” satoru interrupted you as he grabbed your arm, “i’ll get you—i mean—baby gojo a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. you stay here.”

you smiled sweetly at him and caressed his cheek, giving him an appreciative kiss.

satoru gojo would do anything for you, even if that meant he had to get out of bed at 3:42am to make his pregnant girlfriend a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when he had to wake up for work at six in the morning.

satoru took a deep breath and swung his long legs out of the warm and comfortable duvet. he rubbed his face with the palm of his hands before hopping out of the bed and into the kitchen.

even though you really wanted that peanut butter and jelly sandwich, you did feel bad that you woke satoru up on a work night. ever since shoko told him that all your cravings needed to be satisfied since that’s what his baby wanted to eat, he was always at your beck and call.

this wasn’t the first time the white haired sorcerer had to fulfill a ridiculous craving of yours. you’ve asked for extra crispy fried chicken in the middle of the night, finished large tubs of lactose-free ice cream, and would make the world’s spiciest noodles even though your heartburn was amplified tenfold during this pregnancy. you told satoru that you were going to eat whatever you wanted if you were gonna be having his baby.

you got up slowly from the bed, feeling your baby shift in your belly. small kicks attacked your left side as you laughed at your active baby. you opened the door of your bedroom to peek into the kitchen.

satoru was standing in front of the fancy digital toaster that megumi had bought him (with your credit card) for father’s day this year. satoru loved high tech gadgets, and knowing him, he always had to have the best in everything… even toasters.

you watched as your sleepy and shirtless boyfriend popped two pieces of whole grain bread into the toaster, grabbing the smooth peanut butter from the pantry and the sweet strawberry jelly from the fridge. your household had two types of peanut butter on hand at all times, one smooth and one chunky. satoru and megumi liked the chunky while you and tsumiki preferred the smooth.

you wrapped yourself in your robe and stepped out into the kitchen. you walked over to satoru, who’s cheek was resting in the palm of his hand, his elbow supporting him on the kitchen counter. he was waiting for your bread to finish toasting.

you snaked your arms around his bare chest, your belly preventing you from hugging him as tightly as you actually wanted to. you rested your cheek on his back.

“what are you doing out here, sweetheart?” satoru asked softly as he peeked behind his shoulder, “i was going to bring the sandwich to you.”

“i don’t want crumbs in our bed.” you replied innocently, “—and i just wanted to watch you.”

satoru turned to you and grinned, “a little creepy, but i like that.”

you glared at him playfully as he snuck a kiss on your cheek. you clung to his side as you watched him spread the peanut butter and jelly onto the perfectly toasted bread. he cut the sandwich into triangles, just how you liked it.

you sat across the kitchen island in the barstool, admiring your boyfriend’s shirtless figure. you laughed knowing that satoru would definitely be considered a ‘dilf’ once your baby was born.

he slid the plate to you and watched as your eyes lit up. he could practically see the stars dancing in your eyes. you were drooling over the sandwich that you were craving so violently just a moment ago.

you took a bite as the peanut butter, jelly, and toasted bread married flavors into your mouth. you swore you haven’t had such a delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich before this moment.

“is it that good?” satoru chuckled. he was honestly curious. you could be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich spokesperson with the way you were eating that sandwich.

you licked your lips and your strawberry jellied fingers, replying with a mouth full of sandwich, “yes, thank you. baby gojo is so happy, babe. they’re doing somersaults in my stomach right now.”

satoru laughed at your ridiculous reply before swiping crumbs off your bottom lip with his thumb. he turned around to grab an empty glass cup from the kitchen cabinet and filled it with water. he slid the glass over to you.

“thank you.” you said with a smile before downing the glass of water.

satoru had always been an attentive boyfriend, but ever since he found out you were pregnant, he did all he could to be there for you in any way, shape, or form. he was present and involved, you couldn’t ask for a better partner. you couldn’t wait to see him be a father to your baby.

satoru patiently watched as you finished your last bite of your sandwich. you pushed yourself off of the barstool and took your plate to the sink, washing away the crumbs from your hands and plate.

he leaned against the kitchen counter, satisfied with himself, arms folded, “anything else before we head back to bed, sweetheart?”

with no hesitation, you blurted out, “baby gojo wants a hot chocolate.”

satoru blinked twice. at this moment, his baby was craving the most random things. he couldn’t even believe it. this was worse than when he went to buy you fried chicken in the middle of the night. you made sure you put the emphasis on ‘extra crispy’ and if it wasn't extra crispy, he couldn't come home.

“really, babe?” he asked, “you really want a hot chocolate? when was the last time you drank hot chocolate?”

you gave him the puppy dog eyes again, “it’s not me. it’s the baby—can you use the lactose-free milk?”

he stood in front of you and bent down to eye-level with your belly and pointed at your belly button.

“you—baby gojo—are asking for a lot in the middle of the night.” he said to your belly, “it’s a good thing i’m insanely in love with your mommy.”

you felt two kicks from baby gojo. you smiled at the sight of satoru talking to your stomach. he loved to speak to baby gojo as if they were already born. you were certain that your baby recognized yours and satoru’s voices because baby gojo would kick, twist, turn and throw punches when they heard satoru’s voice after he would come home from work or when he would stop by your office to escape his students. your baby loved his voice just as much as you did.

you sat back down in the barstool and watched satoru grab a mug from your mug collection. he recently added a pregnancy mug that he was very proud of.

“this is probably the most accurate mug you’ve bought yet.” you giggled. in a bright sparkly pink font, this one read ‘beware, due to the influence of pregnancy hormones, i could burst into tears or kill you in the next two minutes’.

“sometimes, i worry about you,” satoru teased as he poured your lactose-free milk into the mug and stirred a hot chocolate packet into it. “one minute you’re climbing me like a tree and the next you don’t want me to touch you. is that also because of your pregnancy hormones?”

you laughed shamelessly, “yes, sorry, the libido is off the charts some days.”

the white-haired sorcerer thanked god every day for your increased sex drive during your pregnancy. nowadays you were the one who initiated intimacy… and satoru gojo was not going to complain about that.

satoru put the mug of hot chocolate into the microwave to warm it up for you. he turned to face you as you both waited for the microwave to beep.

once the hot chocolate was done being warmed up, he guided you to the living room with the mug in his hand. satoru sat down on the plush white couch and patted the seat next to him, motioning for you to sit with him.

you obliged and made yourself comfortable. he grabbed your legs to put on top of his and handed you your hot chocolate. he draped a blanket on top of your laps. he placed his hand on your thigh and admired the pregnancy glow on your face in the warm and dim living room lights.

a sweet cup of hot chocolate, a handsome man cuddling you, a comfortable couch and warm blanket? what more could you ask for? you enjoyed any quality time with satoru as you got older and busier. quality time was something you’d keep near and dear to your heart, especially knowing that you weren’t going to be alone with him anymore in a short couple of months. baby gojo was going to be joining the circus soon.

“you know what i just realized?” satoru said out of nowhere as you blew on your hot chocolate.

you looked over at him, cocking your head to the side, “what?”

“we didn’t read week 22.” satoru stated. he was always on top of reading the ‘what to expect’ app with you. you watched as he stood up from the couch to quickly grab your phone from the bedroom nightstand for you.

once he returned to the living room, he made himself comfortable next to you again and swiped open your phone to find the app that you used to track baby gojo’s development.

“baby gojo is as big as a papaya.” satoru read, “baby gojo hit a huge milestone and is weighing at a whopping 1 lbs and is measuring 11 inches in length.”

“that’s our big and strong baby.” you cooed, caressing your belly with your free-hand, taking another sip of your hot chocolate.

“baby gojo’s grip, vision, and hearing are all getting stronger now! you might notice a protruding navel—” satoru lifted the blanket to check your belly button. you laughed to find a non-protruding one at the moment.

“—and possibly even bigger feet.” he finished reading. he peeked over to look at your feet.

“they’re just a little swollen.” you frowned.

“at a glance, even though baby gojo’s eyes are sealed shut, they can perceive light and dark now. shine a flashlight on your tummy and see if your little one moves—oh, babe, we have to try that out.”

you watched as satoru got up from the couch again to dig in the kitchen junk drawer for a flashlight.

“you need to clean out that drawer.” you nagged.

satoru brushed off your comment as he returned to your side, “yeah, yeah. i’ll do it later.”

he turned on the flashlight and pointed it directly on your belly. you immediately felt baby gojo move away from the light, surprising you and making you laugh out loud.

“did you feel anything?” satoru asked curiously. unfortunately, he still hasn't been able to feel baby gojo kick yet, you had hoped that he would be able to soon. only you were able to feel movement at the moment.

you nodded with a toothy smily, “yes. seems like our little one doesn’t like the flashlight.”

satoru grinned back at you. he sat back down and continued to read enthusiastically, “baby gojo is starting to hear and process sounds from inside your body so watch what you say… and baby's nervous system is sharpening the five senses, which means little fingers are learning to grab those tiny ears, nose and umbilical cord.”

you watched satoru’s slender fingers scroll slowly through the app. you gasped. your eyes started to well up with tears. you seemed to cry more easily now with the pregnancy hormones.

“satoru… it says my feet might not go back to normal after pregnancy.”

satoru knew exactly what question you'd ask. 'satoru would you still love me if my feet don't go back to normal after i give birth?'

“babe, it’s okay.” satoru wiped your crocodile tears as he comforted you, "and don't worry, i'll still love you."

“—what if i can't fit my shoes anymore?” you continued to frown, taking a sad sip of your hot chocolate.

satoru stroked your head before placing a kiss on your temple. leave it to you for the theatrics, you were his precious drama queen.

“sweetheart, if your feet don’t go back to normal, i’ll buy you every single pair of shoes you own in a new size.”

and satoru gojo could definitely afford to do just that.

you continued to pout as satoru continued to read the app.

“it says you might start experiencing braxton hicks. they’re like practice contractions.” he hummed, “and the app advises to take more magnesium and to work out… and that’s all for this week.”

you nodded, “i’ll call my doctor and ask about the magnesium. that should help with my leg cramps—and about the working out…”

“—we’ve been working out.” satoru commented slyly.

you glanced at him and sipped at your hot chocolate. even though satoru was keeping you company on the couch, he was probably exhausted. you thought that maybe he could call out of work tomorrow… guilty thoughts of keeping him awake filled your head.

“okay, baby gojo—” satoru leaned over to ask your belly, “is that all you’re craving for? last call in the kitchen. daddy wants to go back to sleep now.”

“yes,” you hummed, “—but mommy is craving for something now too.”

satoru squinted at you and booped your nose playfully, “mommy and baby gojo are the same at the moment. if you’re craving it, i’m sure the baby is too.”

“no, this one has nothing to do with the baby, satoru.” you told him confidently, hoping he’d understand.

he cocked his head to the side, wondering what else you could possibly be craving for at this time of night.

“what is it?”

you looked up at satoru with needy eyes before mumbling, “i want you.”

satoru stared at you for a couple seconds before he registered at what you were hinting at.

“oh. ohhhhhhh—i see where you’re going with this—” he grinned before replying to your sly innuendo of a request, “—well, how can i say no to that?”

you laughed out loud as satoru sat up quickly from the couch, taking you by the hand to lead you back to the master bedroom. you sat down on the edge of your bed, satoru towering over you to lean towards your ear.

he whispered, “you have some interesting pregnancy cravings, babe.”

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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pasukiyo · 25 days

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TAKING OVER ME

anakin skywalker x f!reader word count; 3,801 warnings; unprotected p in v sex, reader is a sex worker summary; you haven't been able to get your mind off of the handsome jedi knight since the first night you laid with him. and now he's back, but something seems off...

The Jedi Knight was coming again.

The other girls grumbled their displeasure and glared her way as she applied her lipstick, rubbing her lips together while she touched up her makeup in the vanity mirror. She paid them no mind however— she knew they were only envious.

It’s not like she could blame them. Never before had she ever actually looked forward to working with a client, in fact, if you had told her she’d be this giddy like a young school girl just a month ago, she’d scoff as if it were the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. No one was just excited to do this kind of work anyways, it was just a way to get by before, a way to keep a roof over her head and food in her belly.

It’s not like she still wanted this life for herself. Not at all, actually. If it were her choice, she’d have run away with the handsome Jedi long ago. But she told herself that if this was the only way she could have him, even for a few nights at a time, then it was worth it.

And he was coming back today.

This was only the third time he’ll have come to her, the third time in the span of a few months but she’d been dreaming of this moment since she saw him last. She’d practically been on a whole other planet since the last time he left her, she couldn’t even bring herself to care when she’d been called for other clients, didn’t even care when the gross Mon Calamari man came in last night.

It would all be meaningless come tonight, when she finally saw him again.

“How come she gets the actually appealing clients, Lizcar?” Vitta, a Twi’lek asked from the vanity beside her. She rolled her eyes as she touched up the blush on her cheeks, catching a glimpse of their Rodian employer, Lizcar, through her reflection in the mirror.

“It is not like I choose the girls for them, ho-tah,” Lizcar scoffed as she approached where she sat, eyeing her features through the mirror. She suppressed the urge to grimace when Lizcar approached, the strong scent of Ryll lingered on the Rodian’s breath and clothes. “The Jedi pays good money,” she said at last after a prolonged moment of silence. “See to it you are on the best of your behavior tonight, yes, kwa-sah tee?”

Lizcar reached out with her long, noodle-like fingers to drag them against the underside of her chin and she blinked away her distaste, peering up at her employer through her darkened lashes. “Yes, Lizcar,” she replied simply, silently willing her Jedi Knight to hurry up and rescue her from her awfully smelling boss.

Lizcar hummed low as she retracted her fingers, relief washing over her as the Rodian turned and made her way towards the door. “I will come and fetch you when he arrives,” she said before slipping out the door and she watched as it slid closed behind her.

The girls in the room continued their gossip, a mixed jumble of Basic, Huttese, and other languages permeating the room. Vitta, however, slid away from her vanity stool and she watched as the Twi’lek approached out of her periphery, her breath hot as she leaned down to face her reflection in the mirror. The Twi’lek’s seafoam green eyes bore into hers and the cerulean skin of her hand soothed down from her bicep down to the crease of her elbow.

“I wonder what the Jedi Knight sees in a simple girl like you,” Vitta’s voice said in a soft hiss, each syllable laced with a hint of venom. The Twi’lek’s animosity was palpable in her touch and she found herself grimacing, eyelids narrowing as she gazed at the woman beside her. “You are so plain,” Vitta continued, plucking a strand of hair from behind her back and tossing it before her face, a corner of her purple lips curving in a smirk when she twisted her face in displeasure. “So basic.”

“And yet, he did not pick you,” she replied in a hiss, turning to glare at the Twi’lek beside her. Vitta’s gaze darkened as she turned to bare her teeth, lip curled in challenge. Just before either could say any more, the door once again slid open for Lizcar to step back inside, calling her name.

“The Jedi is here for you, mwa-shashi,” she announced and she gave Vitta one last hard look before she rose from her seat, the Twi’lek, too, straightening her posture. With one last look at the blue girl before her, she spat, “have fun with the Snivvian.”

And with that, she pushed past Vitta, the thin lace of her long, black cover-up flowing behind her as she followed Lizcar out of the beauty room and into the foyer. The Jedi Knight was not there, however, and she turned to face Lizcar quizzically.

“He has already gone up to your room,” she stated as she circled around the front desk, bending down to reach for a bottle she had tucked away out of sight. “Seemed very worked up. Wouldn’t doubt that you have your work cut out for you tonight.”

She couldn’t help but feel the corners of her lips twitch at this as she made her way to the staircase, practically skipping every other step just to ensure she could reach her room faster. She could feel her heart lurch as it beat in her throat when she approached the door of her bedroom, willing herself to breathe and relax as she pressed the button on the panel beside it, the door sliding open.

The room was dimly-lit, illuminated solely by the setla lamp in the corner. A tall, dark figure stood with their back turned to where she stood and her heart skipped a couple of beats as the door slid closed behind her. The Jedi Knight still did not turn and she did her best to keep her composure, although it was proven difficult when she knew how good he could make her feel.

“You’re back,” she managed at last, speaking through a lump of saliva that had formed at the base of her throat. The Jedi Knight hummed as she cautiously approached, her fingers wary as they traced the line of his elbow through his thick, dark robes. She circled around until at last, his side of his face came into view, the thin scar that fell in a line down the end of his eyebrow, the plush of his pink lips that pressed themselves together in a firm, thin line.

This was hardly the first time she’d ever seen him but still, the sight of him never failed to take her breath away. It was truly devastating how beautiful he was, like a fallen angel who just so happened to stumble into their galaxy. He was simply unreal, for a human especially.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, finding his gaze beneath the darkness casted on them by his lids. His eyes were like endless pools of deep blue, like the murkiest waters of Kamino. There was something darker in them now, however, something she couldn’t quite place. Something was troubling him, it didn’t take a Jedi to sense it. Lizcar appeared to be right— she did have her work cut out for her. “Something ails you… are you alright?”

The Jedi Knight— whom she didn’t have a name for, for either of their safety’s sake— let his eyelids fluttered closed, his chest heaving as he drew in a deep breath. Her brow furrowed as she watched him, as the arm she had been gently gripping onto moved, his other hand— his mechanical hand— wrapped around her wrist, dragging it up to his face. She gasped when her knuckles connected with the warm flesh of his cheek, when she flexed her fingers and could feel just how soft his lips were.

“I’ve missed you too,” he said at last, turning his lips into the skin of her hand and she shuddered when he placed a kiss there. His fingertips pressed into her wrist and she pressed her lips together as he placed a kiss to her knuckles, another to the tips of her middle and forefinger, trailing his mouth down to her wrist.

Goosebumps erupted over the expanse of her skin as he worked his kisses down her arm, using her arm to pull her into him as his lips reached her shoulder, trailing from her collarbone, up her neck, to her chin where he peppered kisses along the expanse of her jaw. He nuzzled his nose against the underside of her jaw just beneath her ear and breathed her in, as if he’d been craving her just as much as she him.

“I’ve missed the way you smell,” he said and she gasped when he kissed the lobe of her ear, his teeth gently nibbling on the soft skin there. “I’ve missed your skin. The way it feels. The way you feel.”

She whimpered when he trailed his kisses back down her jaw until they reached the center of her throat, pressing the most delicate of kisses there. Then, his mouth made its ascent back up her chin until it reached hers, their lips touching but not quite. She was shuddering, her lips quivering against his in anticipation.

The Jedi Knight let his eyelids open and she, too, looked at him, his gaze so dark she swore she’d be reduced to a puddle at their feet any moment now. Locks of dark blonde hair fell over his eyes and she resisted the urge to reach up and swipe it away just as his lips parted once more.

“The noises you make whenever I so much as touch you.”

Heat flared from her chest and fell down in a line to her center, warmth swirling and wetness pooling in the thin panties she wore. The Jedi Knight pressed his lips harder into hers, sealing them in a kiss. Her knees began to wobble and she swore she’d be a puddle of magma at their feet had his hands not been there to support her.

Her fingers clutched at his shoulders as his tongue swirled inside the expanse of her mouth, and it didn’t take much for him to have full control over hers. She mewled into his mouth, leaning into him for more until he pulled away, either of their chests heaving as they chased air back into their lungs. Cold bit into her skin as he removed himself altogether from her and she fought back a whimper as he removed the outer layer of his robes, dark gaze never once leaving hers.

“I’ve been from planet to planet nonstop since the last time I saw you,” he said in a low murmur as she lowered herself on the bed, slowly removing the lacy black cover-up she wore, the thin shoulder straps sliding down her shoulders. The Jedi Knight was down to just his pants, pulling the shirt he wore beneath all of his robes up over his head and letting it drop to the floor. “I’ve been to many beautiful places and met many new people yet, all I could ever think about was you.”

She flushed at the confession as she unhooked her bra, tossing it aside so that she laid bare for him, save for the black lace panties she wore. The Jedi Knight’s deep blue gaze wandered over the canvas of her body as he approached, hovering over her, his fingers woven through her hair as he shook his head down at her.

“I don’t know what you have done to me,” he murmured. “But I cannot get enough of you.”

He pressed his lips to hers again and she was putty in the palms of his hands, so eager for more of him that she didn’t know what to do with herself. His kisses ventured past her mouth, past her face, past her throat until they reached the valley between her breasts, his breath hot as it fanned over her skin.

“What have you done to me?” He whispered before turning to ravage one of her breasts, his tongue swirling over the peaked bud, her lips parting in a gasp as her chest heaved closer into his mouth. He removed his lips from one bud only to venture over to the other, truly not letting a single part of her body untouched. Her fingers wove themselves through the messy locks of his hair and she could just make out the dark gaze he was giving her through hooded lids, tossing her head back into the pillows behind her when he pulled away.

His kisses traveled down her belly until they reached the hem of her panties, pressing his lips against the lacy material. “I couldn’t stop touching myself at night thinking about how good you feel when you are wrapped around me,” his voice spoke in a low husk and she mewled as his fingers curled around the hem of her underwear, tugging them down her legs agonizingly slow.

“Please,” she gasped when he finally ripped her panties away from her body altogether, feeling his breath as it approached her arousal. She squirmed beneath his gaze, wiggling her hips, desperate to have him closer. The Jedi Knight simply watched and she swore she could feel the intensity of his gaze on her pussy, on the slick that was surely dripping down her slit. “I need… please.”

He glanced up at her through the dark of his eyes, slowly lowering himself closer to her throbbing heat, his lips but a mere whisper away from her sensitive bud. Her hips bucked, or rather, they tried to anyway before an invisible force held them down, away from him. Her eyelids snapped open and she peered down at him, his hands on the mattress beside her body.

He was using the Force on her.

“Patience,” he tittered and he was so close to her, she could feel the half crescent shape of his lips against her heat. “I plan to take my time with you. To rid you of the memories of the nights between when I last saw you.”

She was a mess and he hadn’t even touched her yet. She struggled against the Force, desperate for any sort of friction she could gather. It was no use, however. He was too strong and she huffed, deflating in defeat.

The Jedi Knight chuckled at her realization that she was defeated, lowering his head until his lips could place the softest of kisses against her clit. She gasped at the abruptness of his kiss, her chest heaving in anticipation as he kissed her again and again and again. The Force pried her legs open and his arms hooked beneath her thighs, tugging her in even closer.

His tongue flattened against her entrance and she hissed through her teeth as he licked one, agonizingly slow stripe up her slit, flicking his tongue against the underside of her clit in the process. Sweat already began to bead on her hairline and oh, how she ached for more. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted his tongue or his fingers or his cock inside of her— all she wanted was him as close as possible.

“Please!” She mewled as he teased her tongue at her entrance, as if playing with his meal. The Jedi Knight chuckled, “such manners.”

And then she was done for.

He buried his tongue inside of her, so deep that she wasn’t sure it was impossible for a tongue to be able to reach that deep inside of her. She was a shining, writhing mess as he ravished her pussy, practically shoveling her orgasm out of her with his tongue. Her hand reached for his curls again, tugging at his scalp, to which she earned herself a hum of approval, the vibration sending her even further down the tunnel of bliss.

The Force was back on her hips the second she began to buck them again, holding her down and ensuring he wouldn’t let a single drop of her release go to waste when she finally let go. Tears stung the outskirts of her eyelids as she came and she swore she could see the entire galaxy when he worked her through her orgasm with his tongue, lapping every last drop she had to offer up.

When he pulled away, she cried out, wanting more, needing him on her again. The Jedi Knight’s lips and chin glistened with her slick and he chuckled at how desperate she was as he pulled away to tug his pants down his legs, finally letting his cock spring free of its restraints. Even through the blur of her tears, she could make out just how big he was, could already feel her mouth begin to water at the sight.

“Please,” she murmured as he approached like an eclipse, casting a shadow over her. He was so big that all she could see was him, all she even cared to see was him. It was times like this she wished she had a name to put to his face, that she had a name that she could call out to, to moan. He was her beautiful stranger, her beautiful enigma she wished she could know everything about.

“You’re so… desperate,” he sighed as he hovered over her, pressing his lips onto hers for a brief kiss. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Once again, the Jedi Knight was able to steal the breath from her lungs, to leave her speechless. She sighed as he kissed her again, as his hard length prod against her thigh before against her entrance, gasped when the girthy head broke past the barrier between her folds.

She tensed and cried when he pushed just an inch further in and he shushed her, kissing the tears away from her face. “Relax,” he cooed, waiting until she eased before pressing himself further inside of her. Still, he wasn’t all the way in but still, she felt so full.

“You’re so… hngh!” She cried when he snapped his hips further to sheathe the rest of himself inside of her, her nails etching crescents into the flesh of his shoulders. The Jedi Knight kissed her just below her eye again, pressing kisses all the way down to the shell of her ear.

“Call me by my name,” his whisper curled around her ear and she fluttered her eyes open, just making out the darkness of his stare through her watercolor vision. “But… but I—“

“Anakin.”

She gasped when he pulled out almost all the way just to snap his hips back into her again, feeling full to the brim with him yet again. Anakin. He had a name and felt like he trusted her enough to share it with her. Something sacred fell between them, like a thread had been sown between their souls to bridge them together.

She now knew his name.

“Anakin,” she breathed when he kissed her again, pulling away so that he could grip the headboard of the bed with his mechanical hand, his other grabbing a fistful of her hip. He cursed when she said his name for the first time, using the headboard as leverage to buck his hips into her again, harder each time.

“Say it again,” he groaned, fucking into her so hard that the bed was shaking, his grip on the headboard not enough to keep it from etching dents into the wall.

“Ana…! Anakin!” She yowled as his tip bruised her cervix over and over and fucking over again. White hot bliss scorched her skin, Anakin had taken over every single one of her senses until all she could think about was him. He was a parasite, infecting every sense of her being until she couldn’t think straight anymore.

She wasn’t quite sure she cared.

“Anakin!” She screamed again as she pulsed around him, squeezing his cock so tight that he cursed and fell until his lips were against her neck, sucking marks into her skin. She was so close to the edge, so close to succumbing to the bliss that she almost didn’t quite hear him.

“Run away with me.”

She blinked, his pace never once stopping despite her own world coming to a screeching halt. Surely she didn’t hear him right?

“Wh— what?” She managed to ask through the murky slime of her mind, trying to make sense of what she just heard. Anakin lifted his head from the crook of her neck until their gazes could crash into one another again, much like a supernova. She mewled when his hips slowed but still, the feeling of him inside of her stayed.

“You heard me,” Anakin drawled, his mechanical hand woven through her tresses while the other caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I know you hate it here. So leave with me.”

She was at a loss for words, her mouth opening and closing but nothing could come out. She wasn’t sure what to say— was this not what she had been daydreaming about only hours before?

Still, a tiny voice in the back of her mind told her this was just a joke, that he couldn’t have been serious. Yet, when she stared deeper into his dark blue gaze, she wasn’t convinced that he was just jesting.

“But where… I…”

“Don’t worry about that,” he shook his head, cupping her cheek in his palm. “Let me get you out of here. I can’t stand to be without you and… and I know you’re not happy here and I…”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She leaned forward, lifting her head until their lips were connected, stealing his breath away this time.

“Yes,” she breathed against his mouth once they had broken their kiss. “Take me away with you.”

Anakin smiled, white teeth peeking from the cracks of his lips. He bucked his hips into her again and she gasped, clutching the bedsheets as he grabbed either of her hips, fucking into her at such an animalistic pace, she wasn’t quite certain how she would even manage to run away with him if she couldn’t walk.

“Gonna be all mine,” he murmured beneath his breath as he pushed her towards that edge once again. In the back of her mind, she could only imagine the rampage Lizcar would go on in the morning when she realized her top girl was gone. She could imagine the look on Vitta and the other girls’ faces when they all realized who she must’ve left with.

And she smiled up at Anakin just as either of their orgasms washed over them.

a/n; so uh happy Easter!! 😭 not sure if this is the most appropriate thing to post on Easter but you know....

anyways, me?? posting two days in a row??? (do not get used to it LMAO)

TAGLIST;

@your-nanas-house

@chaoticevilbakugo

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin smut #star wars anakin #star wars #star wars smut

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riordanness · 4 months

Text

lover — [w.wonka]

wordcount: 1K

warnings: none

requested: yes!! anon <3

You’d think that working for the greatest chocolate maker in the world would be awesome, right?

You’d be correct. However… some parts were not quite so awesome. Especially when you’re head over heels in love with said chocolate maker.

“Noodle!” I scold, laughing as she tosses yet another chocolate in her mouth, rather than stacking them as we’re supposed to be doing.

She shrugs, and gives me a wicked grin. “Sorry, not sorry.”

I roll my eyes, taking a bite out of my own selected piece of chocolate. Willy always says that we should eat whatever and whenever we like. He just cares that much for us.

“What do you want to do when you’re older, y/n?” Noodle asks me suddenly.

I frown at the question. “I am older.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re like eighteen. I mean older, older.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m pretty content just working at this shop right now. But I’d like to fall in love, get married, and have a family. That would be nice, I guess. It’s not likely, though.”

“Why not? That’s totally likely.”

I smile a little. “Because, Noodle-dee, I’m not that kind of girl. Guys don’t just go and fall in love with me.”

She smirks a little, and pops another chocolate in her mouth. “You never know, y/n-doo.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” There’s a smile in my voice.

Noodle doesn’t reply, so I let it go, going back to stacking Willy’s gorgeous chocolates in their pretty display cases for the shop. This is honestly probably my favourite job in the entire store. Making it look pretty.

It’s the end of the day, all the customers are gone, and just Noodle, Willy, and I are left, all doing our individual closing duties.

Noodle cleans the floors, I count the till money, and Willy, well, I’m still not exactly sure what he does, but he walks through every single room in the entire building, checking something.

Probably some big important, owner-of-the-chocolate-factory job I don’t know about.

Noodle and her bucket of soapy water makes it way over to me. “Hey y/n,” she sing-songs.

“Mm?” I glance up from counting silver sovereigns.

“You know how you were saying you wanted to fall in love?”

“Someday, yeah.”

Noodle looks amused about something. “Are you already in love? Do you at least have someone in mind?”

My brain immediately, unhelpfully, offers up an image of Willy, with his smiling face and unruly dark curls. I suddenly get very flustered. “Uh—no. Of course not, Noodle.”

“Really.” She raises an eyebrow, deadpanning at me.

I shake my head. “I don’t have anyone, uh, in mind, no. I’m not in love. That’s ridiculous.”

At that moment, without either me or Noodle noticing, Willy reenters the main shop room where we both are. But I’m so engrossed in trying to convince Noodle to drop this topic that I don’t even see him.

“What about Willy?” Noodle suddenly asks.

I drop my stack of sovereigns. “What do you mean?”

Noodle has her hands on her hips. “You like him. It’s so obvious.”

I fumble with the coins, trying desperately to keep my hands from shaking. “No—? I don’t—um. No. I don’t like him. I mean I do, like him. But not, uh, like, like him.”

“Are you sure? You don’t seem sure.”

I groan, slamming the sovereigns onto the counter. “Fine. You win, Noodle-dee. I like Willy. A lot. In fact, I’m desperately in love with him and I think about him almost constantly. Now can you please drop it?” I don’t even realise I have tears in my eyes, but my emotions suddenly come to a swirling head, and I hiccup, and brush a tear away.

“I’m sorry,” Noodle whispers, but she sounds more triumphant than sorry. “I won’t ask you about it again.”

She grabs up her bucket and leaves abruptly.

I blink a few times, let out a sigh, and finish up with the till money. Then I flick off all the lights, lock up the inner doors, and get ready to leave for the day.

Noodle has already signed out, so I guess it’s only Willy left in the shop somewhere. “Willy?” I call, “I’m heading off now!”

Willy appears, hurrying over to me. “Thanks, y/n.” He has a weird look on his face, and he won’t look at me.

“Everything okay?” I ask uncertainly. “You look strange.”

He shakes his head. “Fine, fine. I’m okay.”

“Alright.” I shrug. “I’m heading home now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I say this every day. It’s like clockwork.

Willy usually echoes it back, tells me to get home safely, and gives me a smile. But today, it’s different.

“Y/n, wait,” he says, just as my fingers are on the doorknob.

I glance at him. “Yeah?”

He licks his lips, glancing everywhere but me. “I heard you and Noodle earlier.”

I freeze, unsure of what to say or do. “You did?”

He nods. “Is it true? You’re in love with me?”

I don’t answer right away. I look at him for a moment, breathe, and then nod my head once. “Ever since I met you,” I say, and try to laugh. But it’s not really that funny. It’s kind of pathetic, actually. Because I am just y/n, and he is Willy Wonka.

“Me too, you know.”

It takes me way too many heartbeats to understand what he means. “What?”

“I’m in love with you, too, silly.” He chuckles, playing with his fingers.

I stare at him. “You… you, what?”

He laughs again, more forcefully this time. “Y/n, just come here.” He reaches for me, hands cupping my face, and when he pulls me into him, and kisses me, I can’t even breathe. It’s surreal, like a dream, but it’s real, and it’s happening, and it’s him, and it’s everything.

#willy wonka #wonka #wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #wonka x reader #fanfiction

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thebleedingeffect · 2 years

Text

Ohhhhhh who wants to hear me complain about work

#anyway im autistic i genuinely cannot help that you cannot read me or that i don't have normal facial and bodily expressions #cope!! literally cope!! ALSO she kept going on and on how i just wasnt strong enough and might be to weak to handle big dogs #which yeah. i know that and it isnt something that i get mad about. but oh my god she kept repeating that fact for an Hour SJSJSJ #i knooowwww i KNOOWWWWWW do you have anything else youre concerned about or is it just that. is it just that im a weak noodled bitch #also its your fault that no one stays with you long enough to get proper training cause you have ridiculous standards to refuse-#paying people a living wage with the excuse that this isnt a 'career' its a 'service'. well if you want people to perform that service-#THEY HAVE TO!!! LIVE!!! AND NOT SURVIVE #'ohhhhh i started this business with a full staff' well where are they huh. excluding me and david theres barely more than five people #'i just dont know if youre capable or will like it :(' give me money right this second to deal with you

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bornonthesavage · 10 months

Text

It was an undeniable fact that Steve was lucky. He had been told it more times than he could count, from all sorts of people, so it must be true. His friends at school told him he was lucky that he had no one at home to give him a bedtime or make him eat vegetables. The housekeeper that came to bring him groceries and to clean once a week told him he was so lucky to live in such a nice house. Ever since he could remember, his parents had told him that he was lucky to be born to an upper-class family. And when others were around, Steve kept up the façade. He could pretend that he agreed, with bright smiles and boastful words. But in the late hours of the night, when he was all alone in that big house, lucky wasn’t the word he thought about. No, what Steve really was, was lonely.

Even at twelve years old, Steve was pretty sure it wasn’t normal for his parents to leave him alone for up to a month at a time. When he was young, they had hired nannies to care for him while they were away. That hadn’t been great either, but at least there had been someone else in the house with him. Someone to talk to and watch TV with and to make dinner. Then, on Steve’s twelfth birthday, his parents had told him he was old enough to look after himself while they were away. They trusted him to not burn down the house, at least. That had been six months ago.

Now, six months later, Steve sat alone in his living room. His parents had left earlier in the week, promising to be home before the end of the month and told him to call if he needed anything. He never called. What would be the point? It wasn’t like they would come home. No, if he needed something, he would figure it out on his own.

Steve pulled his knees up to tuck against his chest as he sat on the couch, watching a rerun of Gilligan’s Island. A half-eaten bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table along with an empty coke can. He had heated up a bowl of chicken noodle soup for dinner, which he’d eaten with crushed up saltine crackers, but he always found himself craving a snack before bed. It was almost ten o’clock, but he wasn’t yet tired.

When the episode ended, Steve stood and began to make his way toward the kitchen. He could go for one more coke before bed. But before he even made it out of the living room, a loud clatter from the back yard made him freeze. He turned, creeping slowly toward the glass door that overlooked the pool. It had sounded like it came from the shed, which sat beyond the pool deck, nestled almost among the trees. His hand shook as he reached up to flip on the back light. A part of him was convinced he would see a horrible monster racing up his yard toward the house, ready to devour him. But that was ridiculous. There was no such thing as monsters.

The yard was completely empty, the pool glowing an eerie green in the night. Steve scanned the perimeter until his eyes landed on the shed. Though it was dark, it looked as if the door was slightly ajar. Now, Steve knew the sensible thing to do was to ignore it until morning. But then he remembered that Kasie Jones, the girl who sat in front of him in math class, had found an injured mother cat behind her house just one month earlier. It was Springtime, she had said, which meant lots of animals would be having babies. If she hadn’t found them, the mother cat and her babies could have died. Steve couldn’t live with being responsible for that.

So, with only a mild amount of fear, he grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen drawer and slid open the glass door. It was early April, so while the days had grown warm, the nights still held a bit of a chill. Steve slid on his outdoor sandals and began to make his way across the yard. Everything was quiet now, except for the crickets. He approached the shed, tilting his head to see if he could hear any meowing. There was nothing.

It wasn’t until he was directly outside the shed that real fear began to prickle at the back of his neck once more. He was far enough from the house that if anything burst out and took chase, he likely wouldn’t make it back without getting caught. Steve took a deep breath and remembered what his dad was always telling him.

“Be a man. Real men don’t shake like little babies.”

Right. Be a man. He stepped forward and grabbed the edge of the door, which had been swaying slightly in the wind, and yanked it open. There wasn’t much inside the shed, just pool equipment and a few yard tools. Steve leaned inside, casting his light around for any sign of an injured cat. He took a step inside, letting the door swing partially shut behind him. The light caught on random items as he scanned. An old broken truck from when he was little, the pool noodles he liked to use when the weather was warm enough, a leaf blower, a pair of human eyes.

Steve screamed, his heart slamming up into his throat as he stumbled backward and dropped the flashlight. His back hit the wall and he fell, his legs giving out with the sheer force of terror he felt in that moment. There was someone else in the shed with him, someone curled up beneath the work bench on the far wall. The flashlight had rolled away from him, its beam pointed in the wrong direction for him to see. Steve glanced at the door, wondering how quickly he’d be grabbed if he made any sudden movements. A quiet voice spoke from the shadows.

“H-hey. It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you.”

That made Steve pause. Whoever it was sounded young, probably close to his age, and they also sound afraid. But what was another kid doing in his shed at night? Steve took a moment to let his heart rate slow before speaking again.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

For a few seconds it was silent, but then he spoke again. “Eddie. My name is Eddie. I was… I was just looking for a safe place to sleep.”

“To sleep?” Steve asked, furrowing his brow. “Why would you want to sleep in this dingy old shed? There are like, a hundred spiders in here, I’m pretty sure.”

He heard the other boy shift around a bit. “It’s better than outside.”

Well, maybe that was true, but it still didn’t explain much. Slowly, Steve moved onto his knees and crawled forward to grab his flashlight. This put him closer to the other boy, with Steve knelt in the middle of the small room. He raised the light until it fell on the other’s face.

Steve had been right that he seemed to be around his age. With dark curls that fell around his ears and big, pretty brown eyes, Eddie didn’t look like much of a threat at all. In fact, he seemed to be in bad shape. There were dark circles beneath his eyes and his cheeks looked a bit sunken in, as if he hadn’t eaten in a while. His knees were tucked up against his chest, but Steve could tell the jeans he wore were dirty and tattered.

“Are you homeless?” Which, okay, maybe that was a rude thing to ask, but Steve thought it was a fair question.

Eddie looked away, his brows lowering slightly. “I’m- I mean… Yeah, I guess so.”

Steve tilted his head. “Where are your parents?”

Something in Eddie’s expression became tight, before crumbling. “They’re dead. My mother died a year ago, my father just last month.”

“Shit,” Steve mumbled. That really sucked. He had never met someone who had lost both their parents. “Do you not have any other family?”

Eddie shook his head. “It’s just me.”

“Oh.” Steve shifted off his knees so he could cross his legs. “But, there are places you can go, aren’t there? Like, an orphanage or something? I could probably call the police and they could—”

“No!” Eddie snapped, his eyes darting up to Steve’s. “No, please, nobody can know about me.”

Steve frowned. That was definitely an odd reaction. “Why? Are you some sort of criminal?”

Eddie snorted, the corner of his lips twitching, as if he found that amusing. “No, not really.”

“Not really? Either you are or you aren’t.”

“I’m not,” Eddie insisted. “I’ve never hurt anybody that wasn’t trying to hurt me. But… There are people. Bad people, who would hurt me if they ever found me. So, I’ll leave if you want me to, but you can’t tell anyone about me.”

Steve stared at the other boy. His eyes were wide and serious, his mouth set into a hard line that told Steve he wasn’t joking. Whatever this kid was mixed up in was dangerous, he could tell that much. It would be smart for Steve to tell him to get lost, to find somewhere else to hide out. But, still. He didn’t want him to just leave.

“Where would you go? If I told you to leave, I mean.”

Eddie let out a breath, his shoulders dropping. “I don’t know. Maybe someone else’s shed. Maybe try and make my way to Indianapolis.”

Steve fiddled with his hands. “That sounds dangerous. You can’t go off to the city all by yourself. You’re just a kid, like me.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Eddie’s lips. “Not just like you. I can take care of myself.”

That struck Steve somewhere in his chest, the sentiment all too familiar. “Yeah, so can I, but that doesn’t mean you should have to. You should have someone to look after you.”

Eddie tilted his head, his eyes searching Steve’s face. “Are you always alone?”

“What? How- how do you know that?”

“Oh, um,” Eddie averted his eyes, suddenly looking a little bit guilty. “I’ve been here for a few days. I wasn’t trying to spy on you, but I saw that it’s just you in the house. Nobody else ever came or went, but you must have parents, right?”

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I have parents. They just… they go out of town a lot for business. And I can’t go with them, because they don’t need a kid running around while they do work. But, it’s like, fine. I have the house all to myself, and I don’t have a bedtime, and I can eat whatever I want.”

Unlike all the other times Steve had told another kid this, Eddie didn’t look all that impressed. If anything, he looked sad. Which… was stupid. So stupid. Steve was lucky. He had everything he could ever want. He didn’t need some orphan, who clearly didn’t have anything this nice, feeling sorry for him.

Eddie rested his chin on his knees. “That sounds really lonely.”

A heavy pit settled in Steve stomach. Nobody else had ever acknowledged that before, and he didn’t really know what to do with it. His first instinct was to defend his parents, to tell Eddie that it was fine, and he didn’t know what he was talking about. But another part of Steve, a stronger part, felt an overwhelming sense of relief. It settled something inside Steve, hearing someone else say the words he’d been keeping locked inside for so long. It was validating.

Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah, it can be. But, that’s just the way it is.”

Eddie didn’t look convinced. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but before he could, a violent shudder shook his whole body. Steve’s eyes wide at the look of pain that crossed Eddie’s face and he hesitantly reached out a hand. Only, that seemed to make it worse, as Eddie flinched away from his touch.

“No, don’t come closer!” Eddie warned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “Hurt me? Why would you hurt me?”

“No, I don’t want to, but… I haven’t eaten in a week. I’m afraid I won’t be able to control myself.”

A week? What the hell? That was way too long for a person to go without food! No wonder Eddie looked so sickly. He was starving to death.

“Hey, if you’re hungry, come inside with me. I can get you something to eat, no problem!”

But Eddie only shook his head, his face still pained. “No, Steve, it’s not… It’s not that simple. There’s nothing in your house I can eat. Well, nothing that I’ll allow myself to have.”

“What are you talking about?”

A look of resignation came over Eddie’s face. “Steve… I’m not- I’m not normal. You should leave. You don’t want me to come into your house with you.”

He really wasn’t making any sense now. Did Eddie think that just because he was homeless and without parents, he was undeserving of kindness? That was ridiculous. If anything, it made Steve want to help him even more. “Uh, yeah, I do. That’s why I invited you.”

His arms tightened around his legs, as if he were protecting himself. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Eddie’s eyes flashed up to meet Steve’s. “Invite random strangers into your home. It’s dangerous.”

Steve snorted. “I don’t think you’re dangerous, Eddie. You look one minute from keeling over.”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a humorless laugh. “And that makes it even worse.”

Alright, Steve was starting to grow tired of arguing about this. “Dude, come on. You have to eat something.”

Eddie made a little sound, like a whimper in the back of his throat, and closed his eyes. “If you knew the truth about me, you wouldn’t say that. If you knew the truth, you would run away. Or maybe even try to hurt me.”

“Whoa, hey, no. Eddie, I promise I won’t hurt you. I’m just trying to help.”

Outside the shed, it sounded like the wind began to pick up as the structure creaked ominously. Steve pulled his jacket more firmly around himself and couldn’t help but think that Eddie’s thin hoodie didn’t seem warm enough. Maybe Steve could give him some of his clothes. It’s not like his parents would ever notice. The look Eddie gave him when he opened his eyes was filled with sorrow.

“Yeah, I know. You seem really nice, Steve. And I’m afraid that if I come with you, I’ll hurt you without meaning to, and then I’ll be a monster, which I don’t want to be.”

Steve was trying to understand, he really was. People called him stupid sometimes, which he didn’t really agree with, but now he was struggling to follow what Eddie was saying. How could Eddie hurt him without meaning to?

“Eddie, I don’t understand. Please, you can tell me the truth. I won’t run away, I promise.”

Eddie shook his head, casting his big eyes down. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Hey, look at me.” He waited until Eddie did, then scooted forward on his knees. Slowly, without making any sudden movement, he held up his pinky. “I pinky promise I won’t leave you. And I always keep my pinky promises.”

A hesitant smile grew on Eddie’s face, though he still seemed extremely uncertain. Finally, after what felt like forever, Eddie brought his pinky up and wrapped it around Steve’s. It was slightly shocking, just how cold Eddie was. Like his skin was just a thin layer of ice, molded around bones. That couldn’t be good. Steve really needed to get him inside. Before he could pull away, Eddie spoke.

“And I promise to do my very best not to hurt you.”

Steve grinned. “Well, there you go. So, go on then. Tell me what the problem is.”

Eddie sighed, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Okay, I guess I might as well. I don’t have anything else to lose. Um, have you… have you heard of vampires?”

“Vampires?” Steve asked, scrunching up his nose. “What, like Dracula? Or The Count on Sesame Street?”

Eddie snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I mean sort of. But also, no. What if… what if vampires were real?”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “I don’t understand. Vampires aren’t real, so what does that have to do with anything?”

A look of frustration crossed Eddie’s face. “Steve. I’m trying to tell you. Vampires are real. I know, because I am one.”

For several seconds, Steve didn’t speak. The only sound to be heard was the shifting of trees outside and the quiet breathing of the two boys. Finally, Steve let out a laugh.

“Yeah, right, okay. Look, I don’t know why you don’t want to tell me—”

“Steve—”

“But it’s fine, I guess. You don’t have to trust me, I guess.”

“Steve, I am telling you the truth! See, this is another reason I didn’t want to tell you. Humans never believe in anything beyond what they see in the daylight.”

“Oh, come on,” Steve said, dropping back off his knees to sit on his butt. “I get it, you’re trying to prank me, for whatever reason. But I can’t help you unless I know the truth. Or at least until you tell me what the real problem is. You’re not a vampire.”

“I am!” Eddie insisted, the corners of his lips turning down in a frown. “Do you want me to prove it to you?”

At this point, Steve was getting a little bit annoyed. The joke wasn’t that funny. He was cold, and the dirt on the cement floor was digging into his backside, and he really just wanted to get back inside. So, with a jeering smirk, he leaned forward.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead. Prove that you’re a vampire.”

Eddie didn’t move at first, just continued to stare at Steve with his too big eyes. It was a little unnerving, to be honest, the way he didn’t seem to blink or even move. And then, in a flash of movement too fast to be humanly possible, Eddie shot forward. Steve flinched at the unexpected movement, falling back onto his elbows with a small shout of surprise. He half expected to be attacked, to maybe feel Eddie’s hand around his throat or a fist against his cheek. But it never came.

Slowly, Steve opened his eyes. Only, Eddie was nowhere to be seen. The spot beneath the bench was empty, and when Steve looked around, he didn’t see Eddie anywhere. Had he slipped out the door and run away? Why? Steve didn’t understand. But then, Eddie spoke.

“Steve. I’m up here.”

A chill ran down Steve’s back, some primal part of him that had been dormant waking up at hearing the voice from above. Slowly, Steve tilted his head back. What he saw defied all explanation. Eddie was on the ceiling. He was crouched upside down, his hands gripping the wood beam and his feet planted flat on the roof. Eddie blinked down at him, his hair dangling away from his face.

Steve opened his mouth to scream, a natural response he thought. But before he could utter a sound, Eddie was off the ceiling. He landed on top of Steve, his hand pressed firm to his mouth to stop any sound from escaping and his other hand holding Steve to the ground. For a wiry looking kid, he was sure strong.

“Please, Steve, don’t scream,” Eddie begged, his wide eyes earnest. “I promised not to hurt you, and I won’t. You’re safe with me, okay?”

For a few seconds, all Steve could do was stare up at him. He shouldn’t believe him, logically he knew that. Vampires drank blood, human blood, which Steve had. But if Eddie had wanted to hurt him, surely, he would have already. He could even do it right now. Steve was trapped beneath him, his movement completely restricted. So, slowly, Steve nodded. Eddie chewed his lip, before removing his hand. Steve took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Holy crap. You’re like, a real vampire?”

Eddie nodded, still looking concerned. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Wow. How long have you been a vampire for?”

“Uh, my whole life?” Eddie said with a chuckle.

Steve frowned. “Wait, what? But I thought vampires were made by being bitten.”

Eddie finally climbed off Steve, sitting cross legged in front of him while Steve sat up and matched his position. “Yeah, some. Some vampires are humans who were turned. But others, like me, were born as vampires. Both of my parents were vampires, and they had me.”

Huh. Steve had never heard of anything like that before. “But what about, like, mirrors and blood drinking and stuff?”

“Eh, I mean, most of the stuff humans know about vampires was made up by them. Except for the blood drinking, that’s true.”

“What about sunlight?”

Eddie scrunched up his nose. “Well, I won’t burst into flames if I’m exposed to it. But it does sting my skin and hurt my eyes, so I avoid it if possible.”

Steve nodded, taking that it. “So, that’s why you’re hiding out here in my shed?”

Eddie nodded.

“Hmm, ok. Well, you know, you might be more comfortable inside the house.”

“You… would invite me into your house? Even knowing what I am?”

Steve shrugged. “Yeah, why not? I believe that you won’t hurt me, and it doesn’t sound like you have anywhere else to go. Plus, I’m getting pretty cold.”

He pushed himself to his feet and held his hand out for Eddie, who hesitated. He looked unsure, and maybe a little bit afraid, though Steve couldn’t imagine of what. It wasn’t like he was going to hurt Eddie. When Eddie didn’t immediately take his hand, Steve gave it a shake.

“Come on. It’s okay.”

Finally, Eddie reached up and took it. Steve hoisted him up, then still holding his hand, led him out of the shed. Eddie looked around as they crossed the yard, as if afraid someone was going to pop out and do a sneak attack. They got to the sliding glass door and Steve pushed it open, stepping into the wonderfully warm living room. He tried to pull Eddie in after him, but the other boy hesitated on the threshold.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure? Are you sure you want to invite me in? Once you do, you can’t take it back.”

Steve sighed. “Eddie, I don’t understand. You promised you won’t hurt me, and I’m not going to hurt you, so what’s the problem?”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to help myself. It’s just… I’m so hungry. I haven’t eaten anything in almost a week, and you… you smell really good. And I don’t want to hurt you, I promise. But what if I lose control?”

Steve blinked a few times. Oh. He hadn’t really considered that. “And… you need to drink blood? That’s all you eat?”

Timidly, Eddie nodded.

“Right. Okay. Well, maybe I could give you a little bit of my blood, just to hold you over, and then—”

“No!” Eddie shouted, ripping his hand out of Steve’s. “No, Steve, please don’t offer me that. I’m too hungry, I know I won’t be able to stop once I’ve started. I’ll kill you, and then… then I really will be a monster.”

Steve chewed his lip, wavering in the doorway. “What do you normally do when you’re hungry?”

“I hunt animals, usually. But… I waited too long. I’m too weak to catch anything on my own now.”

Right. That made sense. Steve was a little relieved to hear that Eddie usually hunted animals. If he could only drink human blood, they would definitely be in a bit of a pickle.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” he said, “Tonight, you’ll come in and sleep somewhere cozy. You won’t kill me or try to drink my blood. Tomorrow I’ll skip school and go to the butcher in town. I know they stock cow blood, because my nana bought some a few years ago to make this really gross pudding.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, his mouth falling open slightly. “You’d do that? You’d really go out of your way to help me?”

Steve grinned wide, taking his hand once more. “Of course! We’re both on our own right now, so we should look after each other, shouldn’t we? And my parents left me plenty of money for snacks and stuff, so they won’t even notice if I use it for something else.”

There was something warring in Eddie’s big brown eyes, a well of emotion that Steve couldn’t guess at. All he knew was that he wanted to help Eddie, and so he was going to. When Eddie still didn’t make any move to come inside, Steve tugged gently on his hand.

“Come on. I’m inviting you inside. You’ll be okay.”

Eddie took a deep breath, then nodded, as though coming to a decision. Hesitantly, he stepped forward, bringing one foot over the threshold. He stared down at his foot, as if half expecting it to burst into flames. Could that happen? Steve really hoped not. Finally, Eddie brought his other foot inside. Steve smiled, nodding encouragingly.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

He slid the glass door shut behind them and locked it before closing the curtains. Eddie had wandered a few more paces in, standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room. His baggy sweatshirt hung loosely from his limbs, and in the light, Steve could see smudges of dirt on the other boys face. It must have been a long time since he’d had a bath.

“Do you want to use my shower before bed?”

Eddie glanced at him over his shoulder, his brow furrowing. “Are you saying I stink?”

“What? No! No, I wouldn’t say that, I promise! It’s just—”

He stopped when he saw Eddie chuckling. “I’m only joking. I do smell. That’s what happens when you live in the woods for a couple weeks.”

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny. Come on, follow me.”

He shut off the tv as they passed it by before switching off the lights and leading Eddie to the stairs. The other boy followed close behind, and when Steve turned to look at him, saw he was taking everything in.

“This place is like a castle,” Eddie murmured.

“Eh, not really. Castle’s have a lot more people in them. It’s just me here.”

“Why don’t your parents want to live here?”

“They do!” Steve said, defensive. “They do live here. They just… go on a lot of business trips. They’re super busy.”

Eddie hummed, not commenting on it any further, which Steve was grateful for. He didn’t want to talk about his parents. All that ever did was make him sad, and he wasn’t in the mood to feel sad. He had a vampire in his house. A vampire who might want to be his friend. He couldn’t entirely wrap his head around it.

They reached the second landing and Steve led Eddie down the hall to his room. He flicked on the light and moved to sit on the bed, watching Eddie as he looked around the room. For some reason, the corners of Eddie’s mouth turned down in a frown.

“What, you don’t like my room?”

Eddie shrugged, walking to stand beside his dresser with the ribbons he’d won at his school’s field day. “It’s not very… you, is it?”

“What do you mean.”

“I don’t know. Where are the pictures? The posters of your favorite bands and movies? Where’s the mess?”

Steve looked around, forcing himself to see his room from someone else’s perspective. “My mom doesn’t like messes. And I just, I don’t know, haven’t really thought about adding anything to the walls.

Eddie hummed again. “Well, you should. Give this checkered monstrosity a little life.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad.”

“It sort of is. Let me guess, your mom picked it out?”

Steve rolled his eyes. Eddie sure was a lot sassier now that he’d come inside. Hopefully that meant he felt comfortable. “Yeah, so? I don’t mind it, so why does it matter?”

Eddie held up his hands. “Hey, as long as you like it.”

“Right. Well, if you want to take a shower, it’s right through that door,” he said, motioning to his on-suite. “I’ll put a towel and some pajamas you can borrow on the counter for when you get out.”

“Yeah, ok, cool.”

Eddie stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, leaving Steve alone to sit on his bed. Right, this was totally normal and okay. He had a vampire in his house, one that was apparently his age and who had nowhere else to go. If his parents found out, they’d flip. Luckily, they weren’t home, so there was no need to worry about that. Unless… well, unless Eddie decided he wanted to stay. Surely being here would be better than going to the city alone, to ask a bunch of creepy older vampires if he could live with them. That sounded pretty terrifying, if you asked Steve.

Because really, what could they have that Steve didn’t? Did they have a twenty-seven-inch screen tv? No, he doubted it. Would they have a pool, or a whole forest behind their house for privacy? In the city? Yeah, he didn’t think so. Which, okay, maybe he was getting ahead of himself. He had just met Eddie, he couldn’t ask him to stay with him. Even if he wanted to.

It would be pretty cool to have someone else his age who lived in his house, though. Someone who wouldn’t leave on trips for most of the month. Someone he could watch tv with and play games with and stay up talking to. It would be like having a live in friend. That sounded… that sounded really nice.

Steve was jolted from his thoughts at the sound of something clattering in the shower.

“Sorry!” Eddie shouted. “Dropped the shampoo.”

Ah, right, he needed to get Eddie a towel and some clothes. He grabbed one of his fluffiest towels from the cupboard and then took out his second favorite set of pajamas. He’d gotten them from his grandma last Christmas, and they had Snoopy on them. Trying to be as quiet as he could, he placed the items on the bathroom counter before scurrying out again.

The water turned off a few minutes later. Steve climbed into bed to wait, pulling the blankets up and leaving his bedside lamp on. The door opened and Eddie stepped out. Despite being a year older than Steve, the pajamas still hung a little loose on him. His dark curls dripped on his shoulders as he looked around.

When he spoke, he sounded unsure. “So, um, is there another bed I can take? Or I can lay on the floor if you want, I don’t mind.”

Steve scrunched up his nose. “What? I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. My bed is plenty big, just sleep with me.”

Eddie hesitated, but after it became clear that Steve was serious, made his way to the other side of the bed. “You really don’t mind sleeping next to me? Even knowing what I am?”

“I already told you I don’t. But, I mean, if it’ll be a problem for you, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s just, I probably won’t sleep. I usually sleep during the day, so I’ll probably sit here until I feel tired. Which, yeah, will probably be when you’re waking up.”

“Oh.” Steve hadn’t considered that. “Right. Well, you can go downstairs and watch tv if you want. I’ve got lots of movies.”

Eddie bit his lip, the unnatural sharpness to his fangs all the more obvious in the lowlight of the bedroom. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just lay here with you. I think I’ll feel too weird, sitting downstairs by myself.”

Steve wouldn’t admit it out loud, but that was secretly what he’d been hoping Eddie would do. He’d been to his fair share of sleepovers, and while he loved a lot of different aspects of them, his favorite was falling asleep next to another person. The feeling of closeness, of safety, that being close to another person brought… there wasn’t really anything else like it. So, Steve wasted no time in pulling back the blanket on Eddie’s side of the bed and urging him to climb in. Only once they were both laying down, with only a few inches between them, did Steve finally shut off the light.

It was late, way later that Steve normally went to bed on a school night. At least he’d already decided he wouldn’t be going into school tomorrow. He would still wake up early, so that he had enough time to bike down to the butcher and get back before Eddie woke up. Despite all the excitement of having a new vampire friend, Steve felt the unavoidable pull of sleep as he snuggled further into his blankets. Before he could drift off, however, Eddie’s voice came from right beside his ear.

“Steve?”

He blinked an eye open, unable to make out the shape of the other boy, having closed the curtains to protect Eddie from the early morning sun. “Hmm?”

For a few seconds, it was quiet. Steve almost wondered if he’d imagined Eddie’s voice, until the other boy spoke again. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he murmured.

“For helping me. For letting me into your house. For… for just being a good person. I don’t know very many off those.”

Steve hummed, smiling sleepily. “Me either. I guess we’ll just have to be good to each other.”

A puff of breath ghosted across Steve’s cheek, leading him to believe Eddie was even closer than he’d thought. He could probably see Steve perfectly, with his superior vampire vision. The thought should scare him. It didn’t.

“Yeah,” Eddie said quietly. “I guess we will.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he said anything else after that, as he drifted off. But when he dreamed of a creature hiding beneath his bed that night, it wasn’t a nightmare. Because he knew, despite what the movies told him, that this monster wouldn’t hurt him.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve and eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #My writing #this is heavily inspired by the mid 2000s film Let Me In #I posted this once before but hardly any one saw it #so posting it again

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shuttershocky · 7 months

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Which character/operator's dynamics with the doctor you enjoyed the most??

Kal'tsit and Doctor. No one else comes close to how incredibly funny Kal'tsit's antagonistic relationship with the Doctor is once you get a good idea of who these two actually are.

Once you read through a Walk in the Dust and Vigilo you realize these two have such a strong antagonistic relationship their attitudes actually change when in the presence of each other.

Kal'tsit everywhere is the immortal, wandering doctor. She is in the background of every major event in the history of the continent, unparalleled in her experience and unshakeable in her composure. You could flip the truck she's riding in with a bomb in order to hijack her convoy and she doesn't look surprised. She goes to dinner parties dressed in a tuxedo and then engages a demonic supersoldier in mortal combat and rips a chunk out of their throat before going back inside and telling the guests some wild animals had entered the gardens. You could tell her you wish to commit suicide by murdering the two politicians who killed your lover and when she sees she can't dissuade you she helps you assassinate one of them with poison. She's seen the rise and fall of entire civilizations, there's nothing that isn't just another Tuesday for her.

But then you put her near Doctor and the petty bitchiness hidden for millennia comes right the fuck out. She will criticize their actions. She will criticize their clothes. She will criticize their eating habits. When there's bad news to tell Amiya she makes Doctor tell her instead of doing it herself, and god help them if Doctor's newest shenanigans costs astounding company property damage.

Meanwhile Doctor's normally this unhinged, tactical genius that slightly unnerves everyone but everyone relies on to save the day. They eat originium slugs, they pour boiling water into their mouth to cook noodles with, every god or monster of incredible power is entrusted to Doctor to handle because their unhinged, almost alien ways allow them to foster good relationships with the stranger beings aboard their landship.

But also when they have to do anything that eventually will be reviewed by Kal'tsit, the perfect walking disaster in them comes out. They go to Achuahalla and the plane gets shot down by a rocket, then they bring the domestic terrorist with them back as a new employee. They go to Columbia to ink a business deal with Papa John's, then get thrown into jail for allegations of running an illegal drug ring that Papa John's is the distributor for (Doctor's excuse is that "they learned it from you", the perfect reply to piss off Kal'tsit). They return to the ancient sacrophagus that Kal'tsit originally sealed Doctor in, only for Doctor to have a flashback of a completely different woman doing it instead. They go to Siesta for a beach vacation and then leave it having interfered in the sovereignty of a city-state and also got into concert brawls. They go to Kjerag for a ski vacation and leave it having sparked a civil war that resulted in all power being coalesced into the Saintess, because the scion of the Silverash family really, really likes them and wanted to force them into helping him seize power.

Kal'tsit and Doctor are supposed to be these two impossibly ancient beings that operate beyond the boundaries of humanity. They're alien almost, in both their strange bodies (does anyone remember that Doctor's blood can be used to heal wounds) and their ways.

But when they actually interact they're the most ridiculously human pair: a long-winded nag and a disastrous buffoon, attempting to raise a teenage girl that's had to be mature enough for all three of them.

#arknights

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ayyko-rona-yoo · 25 days

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Willy x Fem!Reader 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7,887 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: The reader is only a year away from paying off her debt to Mrs. Scrubbit, so she is horrified by Willy's plan and refuses to participate. But it turns against her. The Chocolate Cartel and the laundry owner set her up, making everyone think she's responsible for the incident at the store. 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Angst, slow relationship building, strangers to friends (not lovers yet), love-hate dynamics. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Thank you so much to everyone who supported my idea of writing this fic. It means a lot to me. I'm wary of writing something big in English, but I hope you enjoy it. Please leave a comment or repost it and tell what you think about it. It's very important to me. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐲 (𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐩). 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐒𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰.

One year. Only one year separates you from freedom. Every day you tried not to stand out, not to draw attention to yourself, and to comply with every ridiculous request of Mrs. Scrubbit. Any fine would keep you from paying your debt, so while Noodle fearlessly snapped at her and got locked up, you listened to every insult. Every humiliation, and remained obediently silent when you had to do more work than usual. You tried not to talk or get close to the others in the laundry. As the saying goes, you never know what other people have in mind. Any rash action by your colleagues could have led to you being punished along with them. Quiet and soft-spoken—that's how you could be described. Perhaps the others even got the impression that you were sucking up to Mrs. Scrubbit—you were the one she was least picky about.

But you didn't care what they thought of you. All you wanted was to get out of here as fast as you could. And your plan was working perfectly.

Until Willy showed up in the laundry. As soon as you heard an unfamiliar voice from across the room, you knew you were in trouble. An energetic dreamer with the firm conviction that he could get out of here, despite the fact that he'd been trapped here himself a few minutes ago, was the worst thing that could happen to you. You didn't even respond when Abacus called you over to introduce you to your new colleague.

You made a decision to avoid contact with him at all costs. But that was only the beginning of the problems. Toward evening, the question of where to put Willy arose since there were only six rooms. And since you lived on the 'men's side', Bleacher told you to pack your things and vacate the room. He didn't really care whose room you moved into. So you just sat in the hallway with all your stuff, planning to spend the night here. Or maybe the next too. You didn't even think about asking to move into someone else's room. Your eyes started to close, but then a voice came from above you:

"You can live with me if you want."

You opened your eyes and looked up. Noodle was standing next to you, followed by Lottie and Piper.

"Or with me," Benz said.

You stared at them wide-eyed. Lottie looked out from behind Piper and waved silently, as if to offer her help as well. You didn't understand why they were being so nice to you, since you'd barely spoken to them. It was unusual and unexpected for you. Something about their gesture made you feel warm in your chest, but you stopped the thought of agreeing despite that. You lowered your head and stared at the floor.

"No, thank you."

"Are you going to sleep on the floor here?" Benz asked jokingly, stepping closer and picking up your things, throwing them on her shoulder. "Let's go."

Contrary to your desire not to socialize with anyone, it became much harder after that. Now that you were living with Piper, it wasn't a good idea to ignore her completely. So 'good morning' and 'good night' became the beginning and end of every single day. But Benz has a way with people, so over time you began to giggle at her teasing, and afterwords to say some witty things back. Noodle used to come to your room a lot. You were sure she was a conflicted child, and you tried to have as little contact with her as possible because of that. But as you listened to her conversations with Piper in your room, as you unknowingly began to listen to the discussions in the laundry room that Noodle was involved in, you began to realize you'd been wrong. One day, she left a book on your desk. You sat down to rest after another hard day's work and stared at it. You picked it up carefully and flipped through a few pages. At one point, the text caught your eye, and you didn't notice you were reading the contents of the page when Noodle entered the room. You instantly put the book aside.

"Sorry, I—"

"I didn't know you liked books," she said with a smile. "You can keep it for now. You can return it when you've finished it."

The fear of being stuck here for much longer than you already were had given you a terribly wrong impression of the others. They weren't the walking problems you thought they were. None of them were out to cause conflict. The boundaries you had built around yourself began to crumble. Gradually, you began to feel the urge to speak up and discuss something with them too, but you always stopped yourself because you knew exactly what the others thought of you. You haven't said two words to most of them in years, and now you suddenly want to maintain a dialogue? That's bullshit.

But here's Willy… Watching him evoked mixed emotions; his energy and passion undoubtedly dispelled the grayness of the monotonous flow of time. He had a way of bringing smiles to the faces of others, and you'd be lying if you said he never once managed to make you smile either. Even if no one saw it. Maybe you were wrong about him, too, but you still thought it was dangerous to try to find out. For now.

When Noodle goes to town, you usually fill in for her and do all her work. Which means you're not in the laundry building. All you see and hear all day is Mrs. Scrubbit's discontent and Bleacher's swearing. It also means that you go to rest later than everyone else, when all your scrubber colleagues have gone to their rooms. Today, the owner of the laundry was in the mood to give you more work than usual. That's why you walk to the room you share with Benz, tired and woozy. All you can think about is resting. Falling onto your bed and getting a good night's sleep is the ultimate dream. But you immediately remember that there's only one bed in the room, and you and Piper take turns sleeping in it. And it's not yours tonight. The thought of sleeping on the floor made you sigh and whimper, but you kept up your pace and made your way to your luxurious apartment. When you finally reach the part of the building where the rooms are located, a small strip of light from under one of the doors on the 'men's side' catches your eye. Normally, you'd just walk through without paying attention to it—really, what do you care? But you stop and listen. At first, you think it's your imagination, but there are actually faint ticking sounds reaching your ears. You pull your eyebrows down to the bridge of your nose, listening harder, but that doesn't make the sounds any clearer. You shouldn't be interested, but you really are, so you turn in the opposite direction from your room and walk toward the sound and light. As you round the corner, you see that the causal door is slightly ajar, with dim light coming through the small gap. But the next thing you notice is that it's the door to Willy's room. As soon as you realize this, you want to turn around and leave; that's the last thing you need. But curiosity stops you again. You press your lips together in a thin line, vacillating between two decisions: go back or see what's going on. Eventually, you give up and give in to the urge to move a little closer and just listen—maybe peek through the gap—but leave immediately afterwards.

You slowly and quietly move closer. The ticking sounds are more distinct now, more like the sound of gears working. Afraid to get too close to the door, you lean forward, just enough to reach through the gap and look inside. You see Willy sitting across the table. The floor is littered with buckets, and the bed is broken. After looking around the room, your gaze returns to him again. All this time, you've been avoiding him at every opportunity, and when you still had to get past him, you lowered your head and sped up. So this is the first time you've ever looked at him so closely. The warm light of the wall lamp falls softly on his face. He's wearing a shirt that's obviously too big for him and the same mailman pants you overheard the story about in the laundry the other day. You can't help but admit that he is a rather attractive young man. Loud and naive? Yes, but handsome. You finally force yourself to take your eyes off his face and look at the source of that very sound. Honestly, you can't even tell what it is. There are lots of little shelves and vials with contents of different colors. A small, slightly faded picture of a smiling woman. You look closely and see the handle of a suitcase. The picture in your head comes together, and your mouth opens involuntarily in amazement. You sigh—such a miracle, and hidden in a plain old suitcase that this weirdo always carries around with him. You want to take a closer look at everything, and your back starts to hurt from your current position. You straighten up and take a step forward so that you can stand at full height behind the door. But the dilapidated wooden floor creaks under your foot. This sends you out of your trance and frightens you, because the next thing you see is the wide eyes of the guy, who almost jumps up on the spot in surprise, staring right at you. You step away from the door abruptly. For a second, you think about what to do, and then you turn around and start walking with a quick, wide stride, trying to get around the corner and run to your room as quickly as possible. But before you can take a few steps, a voice behind you calls out to you.

"Hey, wait!" Willy opens the door fully and walks out into the hallway after you. "Hey!"

You keep walking, wanting to ignore him as you always do, but you're the one who was standing outside his door a moment ago, quietly watching. You can't just walk away silently; you're caught. You stop, exhale nervously, and turn around, staring at the floor.

"I'm sorry, I heard strange noises and thought something was wrong. It won't happen again. Sorry again. Good night."

After a monotonous and emotionless answer, you want to turn around and walk away, staring at the floor, but Willy stops you again. You can hear the slight concern in his voice.

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be so scared."

"I'm not scared," you reply.

"Your shoulders are shaking."

You raise your head in confusion and meet his gaze, still worried, but you immediately lower it back down. Really, you're shaking, your shoulders slumped, and your whole body clenched in anticipation of being grabbed by your clothes and dragged somewhere.

"You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going to scold you or tell you off."

"You won't?" you say in a gruff voice, trying to sound less nervous.

"Sure, why should I?"

"I stood outside your door and watched what was going on inside."

"Well, you must have just been curious."

"I was. But I might have seen something I shouldn't."

Willy hummed thoughtfully.

"Yes, you might have." Willy leisurely takes a few steps in your direction. It's quiet for a moment. You look up again. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his striped pants. His expression is still pensive; he looks around, then fixes his gaze on you again and meets yours. You don't know why, but you wonder what he's going to say next. "What did you see?"

You don't answer. You just stare into his eyes without words, just as he does. He's literally one step away from you. His face is closer than ever before. You can get a better look at him, though not as well as you could because of the poorly lit hallway. He's attractive, perhaps too much so—it's going through your head again. After studying his facial features, your gaze fixes on his eyes. You can't tell what color they are. And you can't understand why you want to know. But he's studying you too. For him, this is also his first interaction with you. You can see his pupils moving; you're not sure exactly what he's looking at. But he's looking without taking his eyes off.

"From now on, close the door, Mr. Wonka." Your voice sounds quieter, calmer, and softer.

"It's not an escape from nosy people."

"Fair enough."

"So you admit that you were curious?" Willy asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

You can't help but look away, chuckling and pressing your lips into a thin line to hold back a faint smile. You hear him chuckle as well. After a brief pause, he continues.

"This is the first time we talk."

You look at him again. Realizing the futility of trying to hold back a smile, you let the corners of your lips lift. You say nothing in response to that phrase. You want to, but you can't find the right words. Silence fills the space again.

"Good night." You say finally, and you take a slow step back, as if expecting him to say the same in return.

"Good night." Willy answers quietly with a smile, still not taking his eyes off you.

It's only when you get a few steps away from him that you finally force yourself to turn around. As you walk away, you listen, but there are no other sounds in the hallway besides your footsteps. And it's only when you round the corner that you hear footsteps telling you that he's going back to his room, too.

"What's wrong, Grumpy?" Benz's voice brings you back to reality. "You've been hanging up the same sheet for ten minutes now."

You stare at her with round eyes, blink a couple of times, and only then do you realize that you've actually been holding a wet piece of cloth over the rope all this time, forgetting that you still have a basket full of linens.

"Sorry. Got distracted."

"You? Distracted? Is our toughest scrubber colleague daydreaming?" the woman exclaims disbelievingly. No malice or attempt to hurt. Just genuinely surprised and wants to know the reason. She sits down on the bag of still-unwashed clothes in front of you and continues to ask. "Spit it out. What happened?"

"Nothing happened. What makes you think that?" You finally hang up the sheet and bend down to pick up the next one.

"No, no, no, something definitely did, because the only thing that can distract you from your work is Mrs. Scrubbit yelling at you and telling you to go do another one."

You stop, stare at Benz for a few seconds, and bend back to the laundry basket again. If you refuse to talk, she won't insist, so you're safe to remain silent. But you exhale and speak briefly.

"I talked to Wonka."

"You did?" Her eyebrows rise in surprise, and she leans forward a little. "When?"

"At night. After work."

"Wow... I had no idea!" Benz is back in her previous position. "How did this happen?"

"He was making a lot of noise, so I told him to close the door."

"No way, you spoke first?" You looked at her irritably, and she understood, changing the subject. "What can you say about him?"

You thought about it for a second.

"He's a nice guy. As it turned out."

"Well, you can tell he's good-natured," the woman leans over again and taps you lightly on the shoulder, "even if he is hyperactive."

At the same moment, as if to confirm her words, Willy flies into the main room of the laundry. Everyone, including you and Benz, shifts their gaze to him while he runs around and picks up random things. At one point, he runs past you and further to the wall, snatching the ladder from under Lottie's feet as he goes. Benz immediately jumps up and catches the girl.

Another one of his antics. You turn around and go back to work. What he does is not your business. As long as you don't get caught up in any of his crazy ideas. You may have overreacted before, seeing everything as a danger when, in fact, it wasn't. But you're still not going to let your guard down.

About an hour passed. From time to time, there were quiet, loud, and sharp noises behind the screen that separated Willy's workspace from yours. At one point, everyone but you crowded in front of it, whispering.

But then it suddenly opens. Everyone gasps in amazement. Willy starts gibbering something very fast and loud. The room fills with clattering mechanical sounds. You can't ignore it and turn your head in the direction of what's happening without leaving your workplace. What you see is truly astonishing: a washing construct that works thanks to Bleachers' running dog. And he built it in an hour? You weren't listening to what he was saying; all your attention was on this miraculous invention. Your amazement is interrupted by Wonka running by. You don't realize exactly what's going on until you hear the sound of the elevator that you all use for picking up the clean stuff upstairs. That's when you run up to the others to see for yourself what just happened. Pushing yourself between Abacus and Larry, you stare at the already-gone elevator with wide, horrified eyes. You turn to Benz.

"Tell me I'm not dreaming. Did he actually do it?"

Piper is shocked too, but only shrugs at your question.

"Do you see him anywhere around?"

You turn back to the elevator again and keep staring at it as if hoping that Willy is about to climb out of there and say it's all just a prank.

"Let's hope he comes back before roll call," Abacus said before heading back to his desk.

Larry wants to say something but stops, realizing that this isn't the right moment for a joke, especially in your presence. Lottie steps back, too, and Benz gives you a friendly tap on the shoulder, calling you to follow her. Yeah, you'd better get back to work. You haven't seen anything or heard anything. You weren't involved in anything. And if Wonka gets caught, you ain't going to be punished. Right? You rub your palms; they're cold and shaking. That's okay; a few more dozen pounds of laundry and it'll pass.

But, making your way back to your basket and the unhung stuff, you look again at the machine Willy has created. Bleachers' dog makes it work. A striped, light-colored piece of cloth is suspended in front of his muzzle.

Work has always saved you from your emotions. Whether it was anxiety or sadness, you always tired yourself out so that everything else faded into the background. And that's exactly what you did today. Your muscles ache, your body aches, and you can barely stand up during roll call. Willy made it in time after all. It's hard to believe he responds when Bleacher calls his name. Everyone in the line begins to disperse. But you're uneasy. So you stop and turn to Bleacher.

"I forgot to mop the floor in the main hall. Can I go and finish it?"

He raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"Noodle seems to have done everything already."

Failure, but you try again.

"That was two days ago."

The man sees something suspicious in you, squints for a second, but answers carelessly.

"If that's the case, okay. But don't take too long. Tiddles has been bored lately."

He smiles nastily and walks away. You exhale and turn around, heading down said hall.

Your hands are shaking, but not from fear or nerves, but from the icy water and the rag you spent more than an hour wiping the already clean floors with. You've given the last of your strength to putting the inventory back in place and reaching the building with the rooms. Your eyes are sleepy, and your legs can barely walk. But then, through your half-asleep state, you hear ticking sounds. Again. And this time, it's like they're a little louder. You shake your head in denial, telling yourself that you don't need to know anything more about it. But you can't take a step forward. Trying to resolve your internal argument, you decide to just peek around the corner and see if something really weird is going on this time. Nothing more.

You peek out just a little, but it's enough to see that the door to Willy's room is open. Completely open. Perhaps even unnaturally open—not like someone just forgot to close it. As if on purpose, inviting you to come over and see what's going on inside. You take a step back and shake your head again.

"No, no, no, no, don't even think about it," you say in a whisper.

You wrap your palms, wrinkled from being in the water so long and still shaking from its temperature, around your head and run your fingers through your hair, trying to calm your ambivalent feelings. Willy seems good-natured, but his actions scare you. And it keeps you from making a decision. You peek out from around the corner again and stare at the open door. The warm light from inside falls on the wall opposite. The rhythmic ticking sounds continue and seem too soothing to be frightening. You exhale tiredly and give up. Slowly, you walk to the door and think for a few seconds before taking another step forward and finding yourself in the doorway.

Willy sits at his desk just as he did yesterday, watching his little device work. The same shelves and vials are still in place, and it even looks as if new ones have been added to the existing ones. He doesn't notice you, which makes you think of leaving quietly. You don't know what words to use to get his attention, so you look away. To avoid feeling too awkward, you say:

"I thought I told you to start closing the door, Mr. Wonka."

He twitches a little at the surprise, distracted from what he was doing. At first, there's confusion on his face, but it's immediately replaced by a soft smile.

"You also said you were curious."

You smile a little when you hear that. Silence falls. And it lasts long enough to become uncomfortable. You're still looking at the walls, the floor, and the ceiling, but not at him. You're also questioning whether you should go into the room, so you're still standing in the doorway. Willy rubs his knees, hesitant to say anything, and goes back to watching the device work in front of him. You don't want to feel this tension any further, so you hesitantly step inside. Willy gives you a fleeting glance and returns it. You move even closer and stand in front of the table. You also begin to watch the device work. Watch the contents of the vials shimmer and sparkle. It is truly mesmerizing, and you can't look away.

"It's wonderful," you say in a whisper, leaning forward a little to get a better look.

"It is, isn't it?" Willy replies, smiling.

"What is it?" You ask just as quietly.

"My travel factory."

"A factory?" you chuckle, slightly confused. "A factory of what?

"Chocolate, of course," he says, turning to you. "Would you like to try some?"

You freeze, wondering what to say. No matter how beautiful the process looks, you hesitate to try the result. Especially since you have no idea what it's made of or what's in it, and you still don't trust Willy enough.

"Sounds dubious."

"Why?" Wonka was genuinely perplexed and then stood up abruptly, almost shouting the next words, "Don't tell me you've never had chocolate either!"

You twitch and stare at him with round eyes, a little surprised by his reaction.

"So I'm not the only one you're trying to poison, am I?" You sneer, but you see the look on his face that conveys so much emotion. Sensing that you might have hurt him with those words, you look away guiltily, answering his question, "How could I? I've never had the opportunity."

He immediately started to fuss.

"No, no, no, no, no, we have to fix this; how is that even possible?" You look at him again and see him starting to go through the colored vial. There's confusion on his face now; he doesn't know which to choose, so he looks at you again.

"What?" you ask.

Willy continues to stare. Suddenly, his indignation at the fact that you've never had chocolate is replaced by concern. He looks at you from head to toe, stopping at your hands.

"Hey, you're still shaking."

He involuntarily reaches for your hand, but you instinctively yank it away.

"The water was cold; it's okay." You rub your palm and look down at the floor.

Willy stops talking. His factory is finishing its work, and you hear a short zing announcing that the chocolate is ready. But he does nothing. He just remains silent and stares at you, paying no attention to anything else.

"The floor was clean, right?" He asks quietly, knowing he's right but still waiting a bit for you to answer, and when you don't, he continues, "Why are you doing this? You're exhausting yourself."

You keep staring at the floor, as if you're guilty of something. You're not sure if you should answer his questions, but you can feel his genuine concern. That's why the words come out of you by themselves.

"I don't know; it's... It's kind of a way to come to my senses. Calm down."

"Calm down?" Willy is confused. "Your hands are all blistered, and you can barely stand on your feet."

"That's the point—when there's nothing between work and sleep, there's simply no time for anxious thoughts."

"But it doesn't work, does it?"

You press your lips together, not wanting to admit the truth, but you nod, agreeing with what he says.

"You don't have to do this to yourself."

"I just don't know any other way." You shake your head in confirmation of your words and tear your eyes from the floor to look up at him. There's so much empathy on his face; you had no idea he was so empathetic.

"Do you feel anxious all the time?"

"Yes... actually." You give in and agree with him without trying to deny it.

Willy's eyes pass over your face for another second. Suddenly, his eyes widen and his mouth opens, as if he wants to say what has just occurred to him. He sits down again, pulls down some kind of lever, and then a prepared round multicolored candy falls out onto a small platform. Putting it in a large glass jar standing at the other edge of the table, he begins to go through his ingredients again and turns to you.

"Come on, sit down," he says, nodding at the second chair.

"What are you doing? - you ask.

"Something that will help you."

Still confused, you slowly sit up and watch his actions. Out of all the varieties, Willy finally chooses two small, light pink and light green bottles. After twirling them in his hands, he opens them and takes a deep breath before thinking for a second and mumbling quickly.

"Yes, this is it!"

The contents are then poured into his factory, which immediately starts working. Despite your confusion, you watch uninterruptedly. Now that "something that will help you" is in the making, silence falls again. And now you both really don't know what to say. You sigh, and your eyes fall on the photo of the smiling woman. Now you can take a closer look at it, which you do. Obviously Willy has followed your gaze, because pretty soon you hear him speak.

"Isn't she beautiful?" There is so much love and adoration in his voice that you immediately get that this is someone dear to him.

"Who is she?" you ask.

"My mom," just as you thought.

You look at him for a moment; his eyes seem to shine as he looks at this photo.

"It shows," you reply, "no one would look at another person with such adoration unless it's someone you're close to. You have identical smiles."

You turn to him and see that he's already looking at you. It's like he's picking up the words, but just as he opens his mouth to speak, you stop him.

"If you want to tell some story about her, don't. Never tell a personal story about yourself, especially to people you're not close to and never will be."

Willy's eyebrows shift to the bridge of his nose.

"Why can't we ever be close?"

It's not the counter-question you expected, and you don't have a straight answer. You guess what he might be thinking, so you clarify.

"It's not because I dislike you. It's..."

"I see," he interrupts you, "you're just following your own rules. It's okay." A smile appears on his face, but it's a little sad. "It's the same reason you won't tell me why you're so obedient to these two monsters and dare not cross them in anything, right?

You don't give an answer, but your heavy sigh tells Willy that he's right.

"You're too smart for a simpleton dreamer," you finally say.

"You think I'm a simpleton?"

"You are."

"Well, in that case, I can call you a grumpy—" He is interrupted by a zinging sound, and he turns his attention back to the factory. He lowers a lever, and a small chocolate candy in the shape of a flower with a few leaves falls onto the platform. Willy picks it up carefully, examines it a bit, and holds it out to you. "Come on, try it!"

You look at him and then at the candy, hesitating to accept it.

"Don't you want to tell me first what effect it will have?"

But he just holds out his hand closer.

"You'll have to find out for yourself. Come on!"

You don't know why you agree to this, because you could just get up and leave without getting involved in all this, but you don't. You just frown slightly, hesitantly taking the chocolate from his hand and examining it. It's a light pink flower with little green leaves around it. You look at Willy one last time, asking for confirmation that it's safe, to which he nods with a smile, eager to hear what you have to say after you've tasted it.

You put the chocolate in your mouth and hesitantly take a bite. An unfamiliar flavor fills your mouth. A flavor you've never experienced before, and you regret it more and more with each passing second. Your expression begins to change as something else comes along with the taste. Something you haven't felt in a very long time. Peace. It spills over your body, as if you just drank hot tea and can now finally warm up. All the anxiety that has been with you up until this moment seems to disappear. Your eyes, full of incomprehension as to how this is possible, are fixed on Willy, who is smiling back at you. You can't look at him for a long time because your emotions don't allow you to concentrate. You lower your head down a little and immerse yourself in the feeling. It feels like you're free. Never in your life have you felt so free of resentment and constant fear. It feels like too much for you. A tear unconsciously begins to run down your cheek, then another and another. You start to sob, which Willy notices immediately.

"Hey? Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He asks in a worried voice, leaning toward you. The sudden crying makes you drop your head even lower, so he gets up from his chair and gets down on one knee in front of you, trying to look into your face. "Why are you crying?" he asks in a whisper.

"I don't know," you answer honestly. "I feel so calm... Like never before in my life..."

Willy sees your confusion over your own emotions. A warm smile appears on his face. Gingerly, he reaches out his hand to your face, afraid to frighten you with such a gesture. But it's as if you don't notice what he's about to do, so he goes on and touches your cheek gently with his fingers. Only then do you realize what he's doing, and you look up at him, not trying to push him away or avoid his touch. He reaches out with his other hand to wipe the tears from your other cheek. But he doesn't take his hands away after that, continuing to hold your face in his palms.

"You know," you continue suddenly, and Willy tilts his head a little, showing that he's listening, "it's like I don't care about Mrs. Scrubbits' dirty floors anymore," you say with a faint smile.

Willy chuckles at that.

"You know," he says with a smile, "you're not a grumpy. Well, maybe a little."

Now it's your turn to giggle, which you do, putting your head down again, feeling a little embarrassed.

"You better put your head down when you're shy," Williy, still holding your face in his palms, gently returns it to its previous position, "not when you're told to go scrub the floors."

"I'm not shy," you protest, and add, "and about the floor... No one has cleaned it here since I gave you this room, so you'd better get off your knees, Mr. Wonka."

Willy makes a thoughtful face, is silent for a few seconds, and then, tilting his head sharply to the side, replies.

"I don't want to. It's actually quite comfortable. Besides, what if you cry again?" Saying this, he wipes away the last of your tears with his thumbs.

"I'm not some crybaby, Mr. Wonka." You answer seriously.

"I didn't say that," he says with a smile.

You are silent again, but the silence doesn't seem tense. After a while, you ask with a little sadness.

"It's only temporary, right?"

"I'm not sure how long the effect will last, but you're right." Willy nods but tries to encourage you: "But I can make more for you when you need."

"Why would you do that? To help some random, rude, and fearful girl who does nothing but wash rags and grovel before the owners of this hellhole."

"I want to share my chocolate with people," he replies as if it were obvious, "to make people happy."

"I'm not the one who deserves it."

"Why do you say that? You—"

"I'm serious," you interrupt him. "You already have limited resources; you're stuck here without any means of sustenance. How are you going to—"

"I'm going to sell chocolate," he interrupts you this time. "I can make enough to free you all—"

"Why the hell would you do that?!" You can't help but raise your voice. Realizing that you've overreacted and seeing Willy's confused face, you take a deep breath and exhale, trying to calm down, but you're still annoyed by his nonchalance. "You've only known them all for a week, and you're already willing to sacrifice so much for them?"

"Not just them, you too."

"Is that why you did that nonsense today?" You don't let him say anything. "Willy, it's dangerous; you shouldn't do it—"

"But it's okay—"

"It was okay this time. What about next? If you're so empathetic, think about how your actions will affect others."

Willy stares at you silently. There's no fear in your eyes; the sedative candy is still working, but you're thinking ahead. You assume what might happen and wait for the worst-case scenario.

"Why are you so afraid of this?" He asks in a whisper, "It could work, and you could all be free."

"It could," you answer, taking his wrists and pulling his hands away from your face, "but it won't. I have reason to think so and know it will, so please don't drag me into this. You have the right to do what you want, but my advice to you is to leave it. Think of yourself, not others."

"Does thinking of yourself mean eating slops and washing someone else's dirty laundry all day long just because those monsters think they have the right to force you?"

Tears form in your eyes again, and Willy instantly regrets his words. You don't give him a chance to apologize.

"If it gets me out of here faster, yes. If I have to wash dirty laundry in this slop first and then eat it for dinner, but it gets me out of here faster, I will. Because I think of myself. And I won't explain what drives me, because I think of myself. And if something happens to you and everyone else, I'll do anything to whitewash myself, even if it's to the detriment of those around me. Because I only think of myself."

You get up, leaving Willy on the floor. You walk to the door, and without turning around, you add.

"Again, do whatever you want, but don't drag me into this."

You walk out of the room and see all your colleagues: Abacus and Larry sticking their heads out of their rooms, and Benz, Lottie, and Noodle from around the corner at the end of the hallway. As soon as they see you, they immediately go back into their rooms. Only Noodle looks at you for another few seconds and then leaves.

Later that night, you heard their discussion. One by one, they agreed to participate in Wonka's plan. At one point, someone mentioned your name; you couldn't hear who, but they all went silent at once. You heard a rustle, which meant that Benz had turned and was looking at you. Soon she turned away, and the discussion continued while you, all curled up on the floor and wrapped in a thin blanket, tried to sleep and not listen to them.

The next day, you were alone in the laundry. You didn't have time to cross paths with anyone, but you suspected that even if you did, no one would say hello to you. And so they did. All the kindness that everyone had been trying to show you lately was gone. No one said hello to you. No one said goodnight. And if they had to hand over something to you, they first argued with each other about who would do it, and then one of them quietly walked by and carelessly placed it next to you. You became an outcast again, but this time the situation was worse. Before, it was you who didn't want contact with everyone. Now it was everyone who didn't want contact with you. But that's for the best, you thought. Now the likelihood of the trouble they might cause getting around you is much higher. That's what you thought. And maybe you shouldn't have.

You stand in front of your room, confused: the inside is a mess, your things are scattered, and your sleeping place on the floor looks like it's been trampled on for hours with the dirtiest boots. The few personal items you had on your desk look like they've been searched, and the book Noodle lent you is gone. You don't understand anything that has happened or is happening. You leave the building with the rooms and walk to the laundry, hoping to get an explanation from someone. With each step, your confusion is replaced by anger.

You burst into the laundry room and meet the gaze of all your colleagues. Everyone's face is grim and disappointed, but no one says anything.

"What the hell happened in my room?"

"In my room," Benz corrects you, looking at you reproachfully.

The others are silent too, looking at you in the same way.

"No one's going to explain to me?" Your anger is rising.

"Aren't you going to explain to us?" Noodle answers a question with a question and raises her hand, holding a small vial of blue liquid. "Why did you do it?"

"Did what?" You have absolutely no understanding of the situation you're in.

"Don't play dumb!" Noodle shouts out, a strong resentment in her voice, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. "You poisoned all of Willy's chocolate!"

"What? I did what? What chocolate?"

"Yeti's sweat was among your stuff," Piper adds.

"That's serious evidence." Lottie chimes in.

"Exactly," Abacus concludes.

"What are you all talking about?" Your bewilderment peaks. "I have no idea what's going on—"

"You don't know what's going on?" Benz steps forward, "Oh, you do. Congratulations! Your and Mrs. Scrubbits' plan worked—Willy's store is trashed and his reputation is ruined."

You're chuckling nervously. So that means it wasn't Scrubbit or Bleacher who went through your stuff; it was them. They found some vial that you've never seen before, and now they're confronting you with the fact that you're to blame for all the trouble they've gotten themselves into.

"So," you keep chuckling as you speak, at the absurdity of the situation, "there was some kind of disaster at some store that I'm hearing about for the first time. The first and apparently only suspect on your list was me, and the final proof of my guilt for you was some blue slurry found in my things? What is this nonsense? What do I have to do with this, and what does it have to do with Mrs. Scrubbit—"

"Because you never liked Willy." Noodle interrupts you, "You made it clear that you wouldn't go along with his plan because it might get you in trouble. So you helped the Chocolate Cartel and Mrs. Scrubbit. Willy wanted to help you too; he wanted to pay your debt for you, and you did this to him." Now tears were streaming down her cheeks.

You look around the room in shock. Everyone nods, agreeing with Noodle and showing that they are of the same opinion. You take a step back, not believing what's happening. There are so many thoughts and words running through your head that you want to say, but no sooner do you start than you hear a voice behind you.

"Was that you?" You turn around and see Willy speaking quietly.

The others look at him as well. He looks at you, then at Noodle and the vial in her hand. His eyes are filled with tears that seem about to run down his cheeks. There is despair, pain, disappointment, anger, and more on his face, and there are so many of these emotions that he can't figure out which one to let out. You turn to him.

"Do you think it's me, too?"

He is silent. Doesn't look at you and remains silent. But you understand very well, even without words.

"So that's how it is." It's your turn to speak up, and you're going to do it to the fullest. "In the end, it's my fault. Right? Guilty because I'm uncooperative. Because I'm hard to connect with, isn't it?" Everyone is silent, and you just continue. "Of course, a witch like me ends up being responsible for everything!"

"Y/N—" Abacus tries to stop you.

"What now?" You don't let him finish. "Everyone's had a chance to speak, and I can't? No, now it's my turn. I can understand that I'm not a nice person, but I didn't expect you to see me as pure evil." You look at each of them. They all lower their heads. "I have principles. 'Willy wanted to help you, and you did this'—did what? A choice in my favor? It turns out I was wrong. It still led to the last thing I wanted. The thing I was most afraid of. I never said or showed that I didn't like Willy. I feared his actions because they were risky and reckless and could lead to unintended consequences, and they did! I was horrified by what he was up to and what you agreed to! And do you know why? " You take a step further." One year. I only had one year left to sit in this goddamn hole! You all know I've been here for about as long as Noodle. For as long as I can remember, I've been groveling to them. I've catered to their every whim and suffered their every humiliation. And it paid off. I was able to reduce my debt, and I was terrified that any misstep by me or anyone else could destroy everything I had worked so hard to achieve. I feared you and your actions because I had my reasons. I'm not inhuman enough to organize something like this, but you know what? You're right about one thing: I would do it if it meant I could get out of here this very second. But I'm still here. And nobody was going to make me an offer like that. If you think I'm responsible, that's your right. But my conscience is clear.

You stop, feeling like you've used up all the air in your lungs. You feel tears streaming down your cheeks. Everyone in the room doesn't say a word; they just look at you or stare at the floor. You can see that your speech had an effect, but unfortunately, it's obvious that it didn't change anyone's mind. You can see the surprise on their faces at what they have heard—it is not every day that you hear such revelations, but for them, your involvement in the events that you did not fully understand is proven and is an irrefutable fact. You realize that there is no way you can win here and prove anything. So you take one last look at your colleagues and turn to Willy. A small tear runs down his cheek. He quickly wipes it away with the palm of his hand. You walk over to him and stop for a moment. You expect him to at least look at you, but he doesn't, so you add before heading for the exit.

"Remember me until the moment you're ready for revenge, Mr. Wonka." Willy lifts his head involuntarily and looks you in the eye. "I have a feeling you'll come for me sooner or later."

With that, you walk past him and outside. The cold immediately envelops your body, but you don't care. Everything is going to hell, so why not let everything go to hell?

His eyes are green. For some reason, you saw and realized that just a few moments ago. For some reason, that's what's going through your mind right now. For some reason, you feel an incredibly intense heartache, and the tears fill your eyes again, blurring everything around you.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @go-punk-pumpkin-spice (I'm glad you're interested!)

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

#willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #willy wonka #timothée chalamet #timothee chamalet #wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka fanfic #wonka x you #willy wonka x you #timothee chalamet x reader #wonka timothee

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semisolidmind · 6 months

Note

In the twice as bad au, what if they never met reader before and only met her in modern days? Maybe mk was talking about his new friends and she came up, they got curious, followed mk without him knowing and then saw her for the very first time, what then?

(....first thing that came to mind—they haven't learned.

in the scenario where they lose their previous reader, they've had hundreds of years to think about what they could've done differently to keep reader with them. perhaps they've also begun to realize that kidnapping and holding her hostage doesn't look favorably on them.

but—if they never had reader in the past, they don't know to be better for the reader in the present.)

perhaps, despite trusting his son to take care of himself, wukong doesn't trust anyone else to not cause him trouble. so, he sends macaque to follow xiaotian to the city.

the six-eared demon follows the boy, witnessing his battle with a young dragon (whom surprisingly quickly befriends xiaotian), and the subsequent trip they take to the noodle shop. he's given the same introduction to the gang as xiaotian is (from the shadows, of course). they all welcome the boy, despite their wariness of his appearance.

there doesn't seem to be any reason to intervene...not yet, anyways. these people don't have anywhere near the same power as the monkey bro's protégé, and what power they do have is untapped and relatively untrained. it's definitely an eclectic cast; two demons, a cat, a dragon, one magically-inclined monk wannabe, and a human woman. she's the only one without any sort of power, macaque notes with curiosity.

it's not love at first sight, but... he does think she's easy on the eyes. it's only as macaque continues to keep an eye on xiaotian and his new friends that he learns more about her. she's pretty nice and relatively easygoing, cares for her friends, and is surprisingly level-headed in stressful situations.

and she's ridiculously fun to tease.

macaque will occasionally antagonize the group in the name of "helping the kid train" (which has the added dramatic benefit of potentially sowing some discord amongst his friends; mac gets the feeling xiaotian isn't being honest with them about his family). while the others put up a good fight, reader seems to try to avoid conflict on the grounds of being a normal, non-magic human. this inability to fight (though that frying pan of hers gives her the confidence to try) makes her the perfect damsel in distress.

the dark-furred demon makes a habit of kidnapping reader after these fights, forcing her friends to scramble to find her. this happens often enough that it gets to where macaque and reader will have genuine conversations during the time that he's hiding her from the gang. they become tentative friends during this time and reader comes to realize that he's likely not going to actually hurt her... probably. and he's pretty funny and easy to talk to, all things considered. reader doesn't hate him. (though she probably should? maybe?)

macaque quickly figures out where her apartment is, and persistently shows up unannounced to pester her. he says that when he's "not on villain duty," he can hang out with her if he wants; not like she can stop him, right? it starts out as the six-eared demon just messing with reader; eating her food, using her television, hogging her couch, and generally being a nuisance. teasing and goading her every chance he gets, he enjoys her reactions (and her attempts to not react).

however, macaque starts getting more and more attached the longer he spends with her. even when he's antagonizing the other members of the group, he'll make sure she's not in harm's way. he'll extricate her from the gang's fights against other villainous demons (usually against her will), shadowing her away to safety.

it doesn't help that once he stops outright pestering her, she warms up to him more, too.

it's working in macaque's favor that wukong already established mandatory visits for xiaotian every so often to make sure he's not slacking, so if mac leaves for the city— eh, he's just checking on the kid, no big deal. he tells wukong almost everything about his visits, but not about his favorite human. wouldn't want him to get too curious; mac knows his brother, and he knows what's gonna happen if wukong finds out about reader.

is it really so wrong that he wants to keep this one fun thing for himself?

———

the monkey king finds it a bit strange that his shadowy brother is spending so much time in the city they ever-so-often destroy. sure, he knows mac likes to cause trouble, but his visits are usually more sporadic.

wukong is beginning to think he's not even visiting xiaotian anymore.

when wukong makes the decision to check on his son himself, he goes to the noodle shop in disguise (it's a bit tough to get anything done when the very sight of you is enough to incite a panic). it's been a while since he's interacted with a mortal that wasn't running from him in terror, so he's a bit awestruck when reader greets him kindly. he's embarrassingly unused to being spoken to like a normal person, but he manages to not make too much of a fool of himself.

he chats her up while he waits on both his son and his order, finding himself charmed. she's sweet, she likes jokes, she's pretty and nice and wukong likes it when she laughs—

he wants to see her again.

so he does. wukong no longer tells macaque to check on xiaotian, instead making the visits himself. seeing as his kid has taken up residence in the noodle shop, is it really so strange that he visits so often?

he also "runs into" reader when she's buying groceries or making a delivery, and offers to help her. he counts the little meetups as "dates" and is working his way up to asking her to be his officially. he won't resort to "ancient demon courting methods" just yet.

he also hasn't told her who he really is. he changes his distinctive facial markings and lightens his hair a shade, shifts the color of his eyes from bloody red to less threatening gold, and wears his hood up. he tells reader he "tries to keep a low profile"; monkey demons get a bad rap in this city, what with that dreaded monkey king always causing havoc.

he'd like for reader to come to care for him like he does her. but, since there's a chance she won't be as open to being with him if she finds out he's the monkey king and not just your average run-of-the-mill monkey demon, perhaps it'd be best to keep his true identity a secret for a while longer.

of course, he eventually runs into macaque (while on his way to reader's place, so he saw macaque leaving from there), and they have a fun lil conversation (that eventually turns into a brawl) about the whole situation. wukong makes fun of his lil brother for falling for a human, macaque hits him back with the fact that it took wukong even less time to fall for her than it took him, it goes back and forth.

when the battle cools off, the brothers talk sincerely about how they feel. neither are willing to give reader up, so...they'll share, like they always have. they both continue to court an adorably but frustratingly oblivious reader, eventually meeting her at the same time and telling her that they're brothers. she's only mildly surprised, to their relief. they're both glad they've fallen for a human who's so comfortable around demons, especially ones as powerful as them. it's not often that a human isn't immediately off put by their aura of strength.

things are calm for a while. xiaotian is being a hero and having fun adventures with his friends, the two monkey warlords are staying out of trouble (mostly), reader is happy... all is well.

however, it eventually starts falling apart.

things quickly begin to change. just visiting reader occasionally isn't enough; wukong wants her to live on his mountain with him. he wants to reveal himself as the monkey king and let reader know the truth. he wants to show her the stone palace, the fruit tree forests, he wants her to meet his people. yet macaque insists they take it slow, that stealing her will just make her afraid of them (and should only be a last resort). he doesn't mind a little fear, but it'll hurt their chances in the long run. so, wukong refrains.

still, he's getting tired of going to the city.

and it's getting increasingly dangerous there, besides. more and more powerful adversaries are coming out of the woodwork, and reader keeps getting caught in the crossfire. nothing serious has happened yet, but perhaps the king will need to arrange a surprise relocation for his darling peach...

———

it happens sooner than he expected.

a powerful foe re-emerges, and xiaotian and his friends aren't strong enough to stop them on their own. the young monkey demon is forced to call on his family for help, both his villainous father and shady uncle arriving just in time to help slow the threat.

the monkey warlords make the fight exponentially easier, their brutality in battle on full display.

wukong can't hide his identity from reader any longer. she knows who he is now, has seen the friendly facade of the peach-colored mask fade into the bright red of his signature warpaint-like markings. she's just a scared and betrayed as he thought she'd be. she knows just what monster she's been dealing with now.

said monster sees an opportunity, and he's done playing around.

while her friends are occupied with finishing off the demon...

...wukong steals reader.

a fitting reward for aiding in saving the world, he thinks.

#bad end wukong #twice as bad au

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wildemaven · 2 months

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This made me think of Dieter and Poppy 🎨 I can see Dieter absoutely taking care of her sore feet as he listens to her talk about her day 🥰

dieter x f!reader (nicknamed poppy) word count: 1341 content warning: 18+ blog; established relationship, sweet creature universe, foot massage, mention of food, massaging with foot, foot job— FJ (is that a thing?), slight begging on dieter’s part, praise (one use of good boy), poppy being a menace this go around, Poppy is readers nickname, no descriptive features given for reader, let me know if I forgot anything notes: thank you @kteague for sending this. I was like “oh this is so perfect and cute” but then my mind started wandering and this happened… oops!

“Ugh— I’m so glad parent teacher conferences are over.” You groan as your body collapses into the plushness of the couch. “No more late nights or dealing with parents who think their children are too perfect to get less than an A on their tests.”

“Can’t be that bad.” Dieter says as if he’s the one partaking in these meetings.

He holds out a white paper carton of warm noodles and chopsticks from your favorite takeout place from where he’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch. You gladly accept, your mouth watering as you settle back into the pillows.

“Ha! Can’t be that bad? I had one parent this week tell me her son needs to stay late sometime next week because she has a date and won’t be able to pick him up. I had to explain to her that I’m not a daycare.” You mumble out between a heaping pile of noodles, suspended from your mouth to the chopsticks.

“Did she offer to pay though?” Dieter asks before taking a bite of a crispy roll. He nods, approving of the flavor as he inspects the contents, then shoving the rest in his mouth.

“You’re ridiculous!” You playfully kick his leg resting on the couch, he’s quick to grab for your ankle before you can pull away, his thumbs instantly kneading into the arch of your foot. “No, she didn’t offer to pay. But she was offended when I gave her the number of an actual daycare.”

“Could be good money if you ever considered. So, did they ask about me this week?” Looking down at where his hands continue to massage out the stress you’ve been under dealing with nagging parents over the course of the last week.

The achiness is quickly exchanged for a more enjoyable pressure. Dieter’s foot rubs and takeout at the end of a long work week is a ritualized experience you always look forward to going into a relaxing weekend.

“You know I thought something was off! Not one kid asked about you. They must have forgotten who you are— shame.” You smirk at him over the carton of noodles.

“What do you mean they forgot about me?” His hands still, a mixture of shock and sadness plastered all over his face at the thought of your students forgetting who he was.

You love messing with him because it’s so easy, but his pinched brows and sad puppy dog eyes is your least favorite reaction when you do take a chance at joking with him.

“Babe, I’m just kidding. They never stop talking about you. I swear I get asked at least once by each of them at some point during the day, When is Uncle Dude going to visit us?”

“That’s it, foot rub is over for you! Can’t believe you would do that to me!” He drops your foot into his lap, hands lifted to prove he will no longer be implementing your weekly foot rub tonight.

“You make it too easy sometimes. I saw an open opportunity, so I took it.” Wiggling your untouched foot at him, hoping he has it in his heart to even out the lingering pain still radiating through it.

“I’m sorry, did you need something?” He asks, a singular eyebrow arched, looking at you then back to your foot before grabbing for another crispy roll and television remote off the coffee table.

The man is a menace and he knows it too. Luckily, or unlucky for him, you are too and take any chance to give it right back to him.

Your attention shifts to Dieter’s pants, his favorite pair he wears when he’s lounging around the house. The thin material covered in stripes running lengthwise of the pant legs, varying in different shades of gray. Material so thin, they do little to prevent what hides beneath the cotton fabric. So they’ve easily become your favorite pair— for obvious reasons.

It’s innocent at first. Your foot skimming over the top of his thigh. Back and forth, back and forth. He doesn’t even mention anything, too focused on flipping through the selected streaming service in search of some sort of cinematic entertainment for the rest of the evening.

You sense he was getting aroused as you inched further and further up his thigh, your own body responding in kind. Feeling bold, you slowly slid your foot across his lap and let it rest on his growing bulge, applying just enough pressure which resulted in Dieter letting out a low moan, encouraging you to continue.

“Poppy, what do you think you’re doing? fuck.” His locked on you, lids already heavy as he began to succumb to your pleasurable wrath.

“Hmm— I don’t know what you mean. Did you find a movie?” You could feel the heat radiating from Dieter's body already. “Maybe that one Nic Cage movie where he plays himself?”

“Mmmmmmmmm.” A blissed out groan is all Dieter manages.

Mission accomplished!

But you couldn't resist the temptation to tease him a little more. With your toes, you traced the outline of his cock. Every delicious inch of him rock hard and straining beneath his lounge pants.

“Fuck, Poppy!” Dieter gasps, his head falling back onto the arm of the couch, your touch proving to be too distracting.

“You like that, Baby?” Taunting him with a sultry voice as you take another bite of noodles.

“Mmhmm!” His eyes screw shut, nodding his head frantically.

“I need words, Dieter. Otherwise I don’t think I can continue.” You tell him, stilling your foot.

“YES! I like it so much, Pop! Please don’t stop!” Practically begging with you to keep at it.

You could sense that Dieter was already on the edge, and you wanted nothing more than to push him over it.

Feeling bold, you decide to take it a step further. With one swift move, cupping the bulge in his pants with both of your feet. Oscillating your movements between lazy up and down caressing to hard drawn out dragging motions down the length of his cock.

It’s no surprise when Dieter lets out a loud groan when you jump straight to his most requested stroke that is always one to reduce him to a whimpering mess. Now mimicking the move without the help of your hands by applying just enough pressure at the base of his shaft with one foot while the ball of the other foot moves in circular motions over his leaning head. His pants are sticky with pre-come under your feet, smearing everywhere, completely delighted by the effect this is having on him.

Dieter hips start to buck against your feet, grinding and rhythmically rolling in search of more friction. Poppyyesyesyes, he was desperately pleading, signaling that he was close.

“Dieter, you’re doing so well. Be a good boy and come for me.” You purr, continuing to move over his cock, rubbing and teasing him.

He doesn’t get a chance to warn you, but the way his body goes rigid as he grips at couch cushions is more than enough warning for you that he’s going to come.

“F-fuck!!” That coiling tension winding tightly in his abdomen finally snapping as he lets out choked sob.

Dieter dissolves into a euphoric pleasure as he explodes inside of his pants, releasing his hot arousal all over himself and your feet.

There was a pleasant sense of control and satisfaction that washed over you watching Dieter come undone. The way his cheeks and neck were flushed from the satisfied desire buzzing through him. A sheen of sweat speckled across his forehead, a few drops managing to roll down his face. His already disheveled hair now soaked and messier.

You dig the chopsticks back into the carton, winding the noodles around and around in preparation for your next bite.

“I forgot to ask— how was your day, Babe?” A lopsided grin forming as you lifted your gaze up to admire the way Dieter’s chest expanded up and down. His labored panting filling the living room as he tried to regain some sort of consciousness.

“Fuck you, Pops!” Lifting his head so he can give you his full attention, his mouth curving into a smile that makes your stomach all fluttery. “It was good— So fucking good.”

#dieter bravo #dieter x poppy #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes #pedrostories

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sjbattleangel · 10 months

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Public Service Announcement: There Is No "CalArts Style".

Can't believe I still have to say this!

Despite everything you might have heard, there is no "CalArts Style." It doesn't exist. CalArts isn't an art-style or animation studio, it's actually a university for art and animation founded by the Disney brothers. (Yes, THOSE Disney brothers)

I know there's this image going around of these cartoon characters sharing the same head, eyes and smile...

but that's deliberate, misleading exaggeration. In reality..

They're actually very different from one another. Sure, they share a few faint similarities but overall each character and their respective series have their own style and identity.

Animation with those similarities? (Round eyes, mouthes and bendy limbs) There're actual names for that style of animation: Rubber-Hose, Bean-Mouth, Noodle-Arm, Fleischerian. take your pick.

But to call all animation with those little similarities "CalArts"? It's stupid, lazy and dishonest. CalArts didn't create or popularize the Bean-Mouth. Like all art-styles, it became trendy following the major success of shows like Adventure Time, Steven Universe, ect. And most importantly, there is no uniform style at CalArts. In fact, here, let me show you the work of noticeable CalArts Alumni:

Just look at the diverse art-styles and animation, all from former CalArts students!

On a side-note:

Rebbeca Sugar (Steven Universe) never went to CalArts.

Ben Bocquelet (Gumball) never went to CalArts.

Nate Stevenson (She-Ra) never went to CalArts either! (Something I find hilarious since She-Ra doesn't look anything like the aforementioned Bean-Mouth cartoons but rather a bold, modernized version of Sailor Moon)

Another reason why people must stop using the term "CalArts"/"CalArts Style"? It was coined by none other than disgusting predator John K. Yes, John K, the co-creator of Ren & Stimpy who used his influence to prey on teenage girls. (TW: sexual exploitation, grooming, gaslighting.) He coined the term "CalArts"/"CalArts Style" to bash works like The Iron Giant, Animaniacs, Gargoyles, Les Triplettes De Belleville (which is also ridiculous since Sylvain Chomet didn't go to CalArts) along with the works of Disney, Warner Bros., Dreamworks, Richard Williams and Don Bluth. In simple terms, he was a toxic piece of work who loved tearing anything that didn't meet his standards of zany, off-model grotesqueness.

Here, a friend of mine on social media explains better than I can:

Thanks for listening. Hope I helped.

#animation #calarts #the calarts style isn't real #there is no calarts style #steven universe #adventure time #gravity falls #star vs the forces of evil #gumball #the amazing adventures of gumball #cartoons #screw john k #john k is a creep #psa

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tofuhoon · 10 months

Text

things that remind enhypen of you

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of food

masterlist

whenever heeseung passes by the flower shop on the scenic route home, his first instinct is to walk in and buy the biggest bouquet known to man. he manages to hold himself back most of the time, but will still sometimes randomly show up with a bunch of roses big enough to cover his torso. and every time, without fail, your cheeks flush red and you flash a big smile at him. that alone is enough to make him take the long way home the next day.

jay, being the hopeless romantic he is, sees your face in the reflection of diamond rings. passing by the jewelry store on his way home from work doesn’t calm his thoughts of starting a whole new life with you. he’ll gaze into the window, face nearly pressed to the glass, daydreaming about a domestic life with you. for now, he’ll stick to a promise ring, but he knows one day that it will come to be the ring.

jake is reminded of you when he’s with layla. he’s a strong believer that nothing can make layla better – except you. when he ruffles her fur and runs around the park with her, he’s imagining you right next to him as he does it. even layla can sense something’s missing when he’s walking her alone. jake uses layla as an excuse to see you whenever he can. “she misses you!” he’ll wail over the call. not that she doesn’t want to see you, but even layla understands his true intentions.

sunghoon thinks of you while he eats. whether its the kind of food so unbelievably good it makes his eyes grow wide in disbelief, or the kind that he spits quietly into his napkin while no one’s looking, he knows that you being there to enjoy it with him would greatly improve his eating experience. he wants to share all the good food with you only. you get texts everyday of pictures of his delicious meals. “you’d really like this restaurant,” the text reads. “i’ll take you with me next time.”

sunoo sees you in the ridiculous couple items he sees in the store. “we should get these.” he says with a serious face as he points at the “i’m hers / he’s mine” shirts. you push him lightly as he bursts into a fit of laughter. he thinks of you whenever he sees cute matching phone cases and key chains, and he’ll buy them everytime. you’ve never complained about it (you actually think its quite cute) but someone would think you do by the way he tries so hard to justify his purchases. (“it was buy one get one free, i swear!” “sunoo i didn’t even say anything”)

jungwon finds a way to see you in everything he does. the members laugh anytime jungwon remembers a random episode connected to whatever topic it is they were discussing. he can’t help but think of you in everything he does. his memories are filled to the brim with you, and he is determined to fill it up even more. (jay hyu- but make it yn)

niki doesn’t think anyone notices when he takes his little pictures. his members only giggle fondly as they watch their youngest not-so-discreetly snap a couple of blurry pictures of the heart shaped cloud in the sky or the ramen noodle that spelled out your first initial. he always sends you the pictures, which you have saved in a special album. you thank him for his thoughtfulness, as he brushes it off. (“i should at least do this much. we are dating after all” “niki you’re so grown!” “shut up”)

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen reaction #enhypen au #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #enhypen fics #enhypen smau

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verysium · 6 months

Text

ACT 1, SCENE 3: blue lock headcanons

sae is into skincare: lotions, serums, the whole set. he and rin used to have self-care nights as children during which they would sit in bed with matching face masks and watch cartoons on the family tablet. if they were in a good mood, they would let you join.

barou listens to classical while working out. no joke. this man is so insanely focused he will shoot goals and play paganini at the same time. his work ethic is low-key why you were attracted to him the first place.

nagi is lazy to the point he will deliberately buy five pairs of the same exact pants just to save himself the trouble of having to choose an outfit in the morning. thank god for reo otherwise nagi would still be dressing like he just crawled out of bed. he still can't do much about his bedhead though.

rin desperately wanted to join sae in the deeper end of the community pool; however, he was deathly afraid of drowning. his only logical solution was to cover himself in pool floaties while he dipped a single toe into the water. even to this day, he still has traumatic memories of that experience. you need to hold his hand every time.

kaiser acts like his football prowess comes entirely from natural talent. in reality, he trains to an obsessive degree behind the scenes. you could come home at midnight, and he would still be there replaying every single highlight of his recent game. he is the type to keep detailed notes about all the players he went up against.

isagi likes to walk around his hometown of saitama and just observe the snapshots of life around him. whether it's a street vendor, children playing on a grass patch, or a couple in the sunset, he secretly enjoys these little vignettes of human experience. he would become sentimental when it comes to you. sometimes you have to pull his head out of the clouds.

nagi has parents who work overseas, so the most he sees of them is through video calls or holiday presents. occasionally, he also gets a birthday card shipped through international mail. when you threw him his first surprise party, he secretly felt touched because his family was never big on physical celebrations.

sae is ridiculously good at anything that involves data and calculations. he participated in a math competition one time in junior high, and he would have made it to the national level had he not been entirely focused on football. refused to tutor rin in algebra though because apparently his little brother has to figure out everything for himself. if it were you though, he would begrudgingly agree.

bachira holds the world record in procrastination. his notebook, pencil, and eraser are still as untouched and pristine as they were on the first day of the academic school year. he does not know what a book is, nor has he read one. he only studied because you refused to cuddle with him otherwise.

ego eats so many cups of instant ramen noodles that his glasses begin to fog up from time to time. anri has to clean the frames and lenses weekly just to make sure his myopic self can even see. at this point, she's the real MVP of the entire series.

barou likes to open the windows right after it rains because he enjoys the sweet smell of petrichor. his ideal day would be spent lounging on a couch with some tea and a novel. it would be even more perfect if you snuggled under the blankets with him.

niko sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night, immensely insecure about his forehead. he thinks it looks giant though it really isn't. you have to brush his fringe back and pepper kisses down his face and remind him that a big forehead means a big, sexy brain, so it really isn't that bad. he believes you and goes back to sleep.

shidou would make fun of boomers. in fact, he'd ridicule every single person he considers past their prime. he does not believe in any form of authority, nor does he like being told what to do. if he had his way, he would have turned the entire world into anarchy a long time ago. the only reason why he doesn't wake up and make himself everyone's problem is because he doesn't want to upset you.

kaiser knows he is very well-endowed physically, so he purposefully walks around your apartment shirtless. if he catches you eyeing him, he will make a big deal out of it. tries to not-so-subtly flex his biceps every time he reaches for the milk carton.

reo loves cocktail dresses, especially in the wine red shade. something about the accentuated figure and natural curves gives him goosebumps. his favorite part of you is when your tummy slightly protrudes after you've eaten too much. you might think it's embarrassing, but he thinks it's adorable.

rin only uses shower gel, mostly because he learned his lesson after using the locker room shower stalls. never use bar soap, always use bottled. he's also the type to always have shower shoes. sae taught him that.

bachira is the type of student to completely misread the question and still not feel bad after the teacher points it out. oh no, he was actually supposed to solve for x, not just circle it? he'll shrug it off like nothing ever happened. at least he tried. the teacher should be grateful for his effort.

sae says he does not understand the sentiments behind cute couple traditions but then proceeds to get upset when you show up to his game without wearing his jersey. would definitely get you matching bracelets for your anniversary.

aiku has a high spice tolerance. he would definitely drown his food either in sriracha or buldak sauce. if you can't handle spicy though, he would set aside a separate plate just for you and manually spoon out the food just to make sure you have something to eat too.

aryu never has dry cuticles. he is always trimming and filing to perfection. sometimes he has beef with your nail tech because he thinks he could have done so much better on your acrylics. refuses to let you go to a salon because he already has all the tools and expertise necessary.

sae does not know how to cook. his manager has always ordered take-out for him. the one time he tried to use a microwave, he completely misread the package instructions and nearly burned the entire building down. called you up with the straightest face afterwards to tell you that the smoke alarms were not shutting off.

barou unconsciously caves into peer pressure. every single new trend makes him rethink his personal style. however, he views it all with an old man mentality. like what are these youngsters doing these days? dying their hair every possible color of the rainbow? he has to do that too. proceeds to call aryu to add red streaks into his own hair. sometimes you have to remind him that external opinion should always taken with a grain of salt.

chigiri has a major sweet tooth. if you so much as bake him one single treat, he will have made plans to put a ring on your finger before he even finishes the damn pastry. his ideal partner is someone mature and understanding who can take care of him well. definitely likes the homemaker type.

gagamaru is the seeing friend in your relationship. no matter how many trips he makes to the optometrist, he will always come back with perfect 20/20 vision. definitely a nature enthusiast, and he loves hiking. even if you're blind as a bat, he will always be there to hold your hand in the dark.

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bluetimeombre · 4 months

Text

━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ Daisy, oh my Daisy

Daisy and Wonka first met all those years ago on the boat. He was a chef and she, a waitress. The two had come quick friends, working together and laughing together. When Willy Wonka shared his chocolate dreams with her, she wanted to be part of it all. So as Wonka goes for his dreams, Daisy, his Daisy comes along as his faithful secretary. When it all goes wrong, he fears he's dragged her down with him.

[never did I think i'd be writing a Willy Wonka fic, like huh? but before I even went into the cinema to watch it I knew i'd be obsessed. Can't wait to see the Regulus edits of it all. Not proofread, just vibes. And i have a lot of ideas for timmy and coryo snow bits :)] ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━

The doors were wide open, holding the people in and the magic of it out. The wonder of Wonka's chocolate shop wafted in the wind, calling in all- children and adults, anyone and everyone came along to have bite of magic.

Daisy maned the doors with Noodle. Kept the line down and made sure everyone got in and out with a bag full of the wonderful chocolate Wonka created. She was lucky enough to be the first to try them all, he always wanted her feed back. She was thankful he held her in such esteem as to value her opinion. After seven years on this journey with him, just seeing his dreams in front of her was enough to keep a grin in her face.

Her cheeks would sure hurt in the morning.

It was obvious to them all apparently, at least to the adults, how Daisy admired and felt about Wonka. But- standing across from her and watching her watch Wonka- it only just clicked with Noodle.

'Holy cricket!' yelped Noodle.

Her yell broke Daisy away from her daze, watching Wonka in his chocolate tree. She jumped in her skin and slowly turned to Noodle. 'Yes, Noodle?'

'You're in love with him!'

Daisy's jaw hung open slightly before she laughed off her nerves. If Noodle said it any louder, he may just hear. 'What? No-no, no way, no, please. Don't be ridiculous. He's... he's my boss.'

'So?' she rushed over to Daisy tugging at her sleeve. 'You're in love with him!'

Daisy turned them around quickly, smiling at all the customers until they were left alone in a corner. 'Noodle, please, you mustn't say a word. To him, to anyone.'

'You've been in love with him this whole time?'

'Well, only six of the seven years i've known him,' Daisy amended, 'although admittedly that doesn't sound any better.'

Noodle had a grin on her face now, her little hat slanted down on her head. 'Why not tell him?'

'Because Noodle, there are some things worth staying quiet for. If he didn't like me back and thought it weird that I stayed this whole time, he could throw me out! All i've known is this.' Daisy didn't want to think of not having it. Of not having... Wonka.

'Daisy, please, i'm sure Wonka loves you to,.'

'Daisy!' called the very man they were discussing. The two girls stood up quickly, hands behind their backs and smiling.

'Nothing, we were talking about nothing!' said Daisy quickly.

Wonka's brows seemed askew as he looked between them. 'Very well, Daisy may I borrow you a moment.' he didn't await an answer, already tugging her away.

Worried he'd heard this whole time and was about to tell her to leave, Daisy looked back at Noodle for some help. The girl only made smooching faces.

'Try this!' Wonka thrust a chocolate flower in her mouth.

It was delicious. Crunchy and melting on the tongue. It smelt like a tulip but tasted like a blueberry and something else, something like...

Daisy spat out the last crumbs of the flower. 'Yeti sweat!'

'Exactly!'

'But you didn't put that in there!'

'No, I did not.'

Daisy thought quickly, clicking her fingers. 'Could it have been the little orange man?'

Wonka nodded, stroking the non-existent hair on his chin. 'I wouldn't put it past him.' Quickly, Wonka tugged her over to the tree and leapt upon it, yelling out to the room: 'Ladies and Gentlemen! Your attention please, there seems to be a manufacturing error! Nobody eat the flowers!'

A lady who's hair was already turning orange and growing a beard asked 'why not?'

A man who's hair was ginger and growing tall had crumbs falling from his lips 'what's wrong with them?'

Another man was turning green, another child was turning another colour.

'Oh no,' mumbled Daisy.

'I'm terribly sorry everyone and I don't know how to explain it. But it appears the chocolate's have been poisoned!' Wonka announced.

Daisy leapt up next to him. 'That probably was not the best wording, Wonka.'

'I want my money back!' a man who's hair was as blue as the ocean yelled.

'I want compensation!' yelled an angry Scottish man.

'I want revenge!'

Suddenly, chocolate's were being thrown at the two. They dodged and ducked, but they came quickly.

'Daisy, hold onto me!' Wonka grabbed a fistful of her purple dress and kept her close to him. They yelled at those who tore down the shop, that cracked and shattered all the glasses. 'Daisy, what's happening?!'

The chandelier dropped from the ceiling, creating fire in the middle of the hall. People started to run out, screaming and yelling. 'Oh Daisy.' and Wonka settled down.

That's how they ended up in the melted room of what was once Wonka's shop of dreams. The colours had dissolved, the people had scattered and they were left with their friends.

Noodle slowly approached Wonka who sat down in the dust. With an encouraging nod from Daisy, Noodle cleared her throat. 'It's ok, Willy. We can re-build.'

'There's no point, Noodle.'

Daisy rested a hand on his shoulder. 'Don't say that.'

'It's the truth,' he mumbled. 'It didn't work.'

Daisy scoffed. 'What do you mean? your chocolates brought so much joy!' she settled down next to him. 'Before everyone found out they were tampered with.'

'She promised she would be here,' said Wonka, glancing over at Daisy. She was the only one who knew everything about Wonka. All but one thing. Quite possibly one of the biggest things. 'She wasn't. Stupid dream.'

Daisy rested a hand on his back. 'It's not a stupid dream, none of your dreams are stupid.'

'Oh but they are,' he told her, looking to her with tears in his eyes. He seemed to search her face for something. 'Now none of them will ever come true.'

'Don't say that Willy!' said Noodle. 'Please don't ever say that!'

'Come on, Noodle,' Mr. Carter said, putting a hand to Noodle's shoulder and gesturing the rest away. 'I think we should give Mr Wonka some time alone.'

Wonka didn't object to them all leaving, he sat with his feelings and his chocolates.

Daisy watched them all leave and turned back to Willy. They spent their days together, inventing, laughing, eating and cooking. They only left each others side to sleep in different rooms. But maybe, she'd have to accept some things change.

With a quiet sigh, Daisy made to leave.

Wonka's hand reached out, clasping her wrist. 'Not you. Please, please don't leave.'

At his begging, at the tear slipping down his cheek, she sat back down and held onto his hand firmly.

'Never, Willy, never,' she promised.

He sniffed. 'I'm sorry, I let you down,' he laughed through his tears.

At first, she thought he was talking to his Ma. Sometimes, when he needed guidance the most, he'd share some words with her. But she realised, he was apologising to her.

'Let me down?' she echoed. It was a ridiculous idea, when he'd given her the greatest thing of all. Love. A warmth in the heart that not even chocolate could bring. 'You haven't let me down, in fact, it would be impossible for you to ever let me down, Willy. You did all this. All of it. And if it wasn't for the stupid chocolate cartel, you'd have all your dreams. I just wish I could erase what they did, give it all back to you.'

He smiled, wiping his nose. 'You've always been too kind to me, Daisy.'

'You've never given me a reason not to be, Willy.' she squeezed his hand with one and with the other, she wiped away a tear from his cheek.

He looked at her and she quickly dropped her hand and took a deep breath. The ends of her dress were scorched, her gloves ruined, hair falling around her face. 'You've followed me all these years for this. For this dream. Now it's all gone. It's ruined and i've done nothing but waste your time.'

Daisy looked into his eyes, those that were swimming in tears. She shook her head slightly, lips curled up in disbelief. She thought of talking with Noodle, she thought of dancing and sharing smiles with Willy. 'You really think that's the only reason i've followed you?'

They were sitting close. Bodies, warm from fire and cold from dread. His jacket, frayed everywhere, covering parts of her dress. He could see every detail of her face. Every detail he'd missed from spending his time being far from her.

'What else could there be?' he asked.

And perhaps truth's would've been shared if it wasn't for the chocolate cartel interrupting.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

It all seemed to end with: death by chocolate.

Daisy and Wonka were stuck in a room with thousands and thousands of gallons of chocolate, and impossible amount really. The pillars whirled and the chocolate grew around them. They'd been so close at winning, at getting their hands on the secrets they needed to prove the cartel villains and gain back his reputation. But of course, there was one thing they'd missed.

Chocolate.

'You know, Willy. When you were dreaming about chocolate. I think you dreamt a bit too hard.'

Wonka held her hand, putting it onto his sleeve. 'Just hold onto me, we'll be fine.'

But then chocolate started to spill from vents, and being 'just fine' started to turn into panicking. Panicking a lot.

His other hand held onto her hand. 'I'll think of something, I promise.'

Daisy laughed, watching her knees disappear under the chocolate. 'I've never doubted you, not for a second in six years. But please do come up with a plan soon.'

'I've got it!' he announced after the chocolate crept up their legs. 'If we're going to drown in chocolate, because let's face it Daisy, we might just drown in chocolate. Then it'll be Wonka chocolate.' She watched as he started to sprinkle some secret ingredient into the chocolate around them.

'Does that happen to lessen the amount of chocolate that will some in?' she asked.

'Nop!' he admitted.

Daisy put on a brave smile, looking around the room as the chocolate reached her waist. 'A sky light!' she gasped, shuffling around in the liquid. She laughed, clutching at Wonka. 'There's a skylight, we'll get out that way.'

Willy followed her eyeline, seeing the only part light came from. 'Daisy, my Daisy, you're a genius.'

And it didn't take long for the chocolate to reach their necks. They pushed through it, they fought against the current until they reached the window.

'Help!' they yelled, banging their fists against it, screaming and hoping someone would see or the glass would break.

'It's not gonna work is it?' Daisy sighed. Her fists were shaking from the force of knocking against the window. 'We're going to drown in chocolate.' She laughed, because how could she not.

Wonka watched her. Even in the desolate moment of ending, he watched her. His flower laugh and then thought things couldn't be so bad if she was laughing. But hadn't she always found joy in the worst moments? 'Tell me,' he said.

Daisy looked back to him, arms working tiresomely to keep her up. 'Tell you what?'

'What you were going to tell me, back in the shop?'

Daisy almost thanked the blush was up to her neck, he'd never be able to see the rising blush. 'I er... I don't think I remember what I was going to say.'

'Sure you do,' said Wonka, almost taking pleasure in teasing her. 'You're Daisy, you remember everything.'

Still, even facing death by chocolate, Daisy wasn't ready to spill her most carefully guarded secret.

'Why else would you follow me all the way here, Daisy?' he asked her. 'You might as well tell me. I'm not sure there's another way out of here. I've let you down. Again.'

'Willy, i've told you. You can never let me down,' she whispered. There was nothing else left to say. Nothing but silence between them.

'I'm in love with you,' she confessed in one breath. A secret kept for years, aching for days and it came out in one single whisper. 'I've been in love with you for six years. That's why I've followed you everywhere. Because I believe you. I wanted to see your dreams come true. I wanted to watch you watch your dreams come true. That's why i've followed you here. Because I am so helplessly and foolishly in love with you.'

To her dismay, nothing was revealed from his expression. 'You really mean that?' he asked. 'You're not just saying that because we're about to drown?'

'No. Seemed as good a time as ever to say it.'

Finally, he smiled. 'Then let me do you one better. I've been in love with you for seven,' he admitted. Finally admitted. And if it wasn't for the chocolate holding them down, his chest would finally expand with a deep breath. He laughed. 'Seven years.'

'Seven?' she checked.

'Seven,' he exaggerated. 'I should've told you, I never wanted you to be my secretary! I never wanted you as a friend! I wanted- I wanted you!'

Daisy laughed, tilting her head back so she couldn't choke on chocolate. 'Well, we're just a pair of fools aren't we?'

Willy smiled. 'Daisy, oh my Daisy. Deep breath now.'

Then, the two disappeared under the river of chocolate. But for a fleeting moment, they were in love together.

Daisy thought that could save them. Her own dream of loving him could make the chocolate go, lower until they could breath. She could practically feel the fresh air, feel the air in her lungs.

'Daisy! My Daisy open your eyes!' Yelled Wonka. 'We're saved, we've been saved!'

Daisy wiped the chocolate from her eyes, finding Willy in front of her with a wide grin. 'What? by who?'

'Look!'

Above them, waving at the window was the little orange man. The theif.

Daisy exclaimed a laugh, thanking him and blowing him a kiss as the chocolate continued to lower until they got their bodies back. The two spun around and around until they hit the ground in lumps of bodies.

Their bodies were shaking with laughter, against each other.

They sat up across from each other in new light. Not afraid of dying, or loving.

Daisy raised a brow. 'So seven years is a long time.'

Wonka blushed under the layer of chocolate he tried to wipe away. 'Almost as long as six.'

They laughed, eyes twinkling in the way new lovers do.

Daisy reached out, swiping a layer of chocolate from his cheek and licking it off her finger as Wonka watched. She didn't seem to think anything of it, but it lit him up with heat and determination.

He pulled her arm until she was between his legs, almost on his lap and kissed her. A kiss that had waited seven years, since they were born, a lifetime for them to share.

It was quick, a movement of lips and his hand on her cheek, her hand clutching his jacket. It tasted of life and hope and love and chocolate. His lips were soft and sweet, and hers were fresh and his for the taking.

Perhaps, if it wasn't for the little orange man knocking on the window, they would've forgotten their troubles and rolled around in chocolate, discovering what seven years of longing does to a person.

Daisy pulled away, running her tongue over her newly chocolate covered lips.

Wonka smiled, kissed her once more and then held her hand. 'Let's go get our chocolate back.'

#timothee x y/n #timothee x you #timothee x reader #timothee imagine #timothée chalamet #wonka #wonka movie #willy wonka #regulus black #timmy

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