#Interactive-Patient-Education

[patient-education]

Revolutionizing Patient Education with “X-Plain Health AI”

Imagine a world where every patient's educational journey is uniquely tailored to their health needs, language, and learning style. This is not a distant dream but a present reality, thanks to the groundbreaking advancements in AI with “X-Plain Health AI,” a custom GPT app redefining the landscape of patient education. How is this innovative technology transforming how we understand and interact with healthcare information? Let's explore the future, which is already here.

What are Custom GPTs? Custom GPTs are a specialized iteration of the Generative Pre-trained Transformer models designed specifically for targeted applications. Unlike general-purpose models like ChatGPT, custom GPTs are fine-tuned with specific datasets, tailored instructions, and integrated functionalities to cater to particular needs. This specialization enables them to produce outputs that are highly adaptive and aligned with specific objectives, making them invaluable in fields like patient education.

Traditional vs. AI-based Patient Education

In traditional settings, patient education relies on printed materials, videos, and digital resources, which often fall short in addressing the diverse needs of patients. These methods, while informative, lack the personalization necessary for effective healthcare communication. Custom GPTs revolutionize this domain by offering tailored, dynamic, and interactive educational content. This AI-driven approach aligns with individual health conditions, literacy levels, and cultural backgrounds, enhancing patient understanding, engagement, and adherence to medical guidance.

Consider the case of Laila, a 52-year-old woman recently diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. She's overwhelmed with the flood of generic information available online. That's where 'X-Plain Health AI' comes in. Unlike traditional GPT models like ChatGPT, our custom GPT is fine-tuned with vast medical data. When Laila uses X-Plain Health AI, she receives personalized information. The system adjusts the complexity of the language to match her understanding and even considers her cultural background. This means Laila gets tailored advice on managing her diabetes, dietary recommendations suited to her lifestyle, and explanations of medical terms in a way she can easily comprehend. It's like having a virtual health educator, always ready to provide information that’s specifically relevant to her, rather than a one-size-fits-all approach.

X-Plain Health AI

Custom GPTs for patient education can generate detailed, specific information about a patient's condition and treatment options, adjust the complexity of the language to suit the patient's literacy level, facilitate interactive learning sessions for heightened engagement, and offer materials in multiple languages, considering cultural nuances.

Released on February 5, 2024, X-Plain Health AI is a pioneering custom GPT model developed by the Patient Education Institute. Accessible through the ChatGPT Store, it promises unprecedented personalization in patient education. What does “X-Plain Health AI” offer beyond what ChatGPT can do? Some key features include:

Prompting users to set their preferences for language, content depth, difficulty level, and other parameters.

Ask users to select a health topic, then offer targeted questions to refine information to specific interests like causes, symptoms, alternative treatments, risks, coping strategies, support options, and more.

Adjusting the complexity of the text according to the user’s preferences and previous interactions.

Engage with users to explain complex terms, present statistics, or compare treatment options tailored to their specific requests.

Asking questions to verify understanding.

Using our extensive database of peer-reviewed, up-to-date content, which includes over 25 million words, a video library with over 2,500 videos, and 2,500 interactive quizzes for comprehension testing, ensuring that users receive up-to-date information in their preferred educational format.

Upon the user’s request, display one of our +10,000 illustrations and +100,000 slides to show diagrams and anatomical and procedural illustrations (in progress).

Here is a scenario illustrating how X-Plain Health AI interacts with a user: John, a 40-year-old man, logs into X-Plain Health AI.

—      X-Plain Health AI: "Hello! How may I assist you today? Do you have any specific health topics or questions in mind? Also, would you like me to address you by a name?”

—      John: “You can call me John. I want to learn about managing high blood pressure.”

—      X-Plain Health AI: “Welcome, John! To provide you with personalized information about managing high blood pressure, I have a few questions for you. First, what is your preferred language for communication?"

—      John: "English, please."

—      X-Plain Health AI: "Great, English it is. How would you rate your understanding of high blood pressure management on a scale from 1 to 5?"

—      John: "Probably around a 2."

—      X-Plain Health AI: "Understood, we'll keep things straightforward. Are you seeking information on causes, symptoms, complications, diet, exercise, medication, or all of these topics?"

—      John: "Mostly diet and exercise."

—      X-Plain Health AI: "Okay. I can provide dietary guidelines and exercise tips that effectively manage high blood pressure. Before we proceed, do you have any dietary restrictions or physical limitations I should be aware of?"

—      John: "I'm a vegetarian and have a knee injury, so nothing too strenuous."

—      X-Plain Health AI: "Thanks for sharing that, John. I'll tailor the information accordingly. [Provides tailored advice on a vegetarian diet and low-impact exercises suitable for someone with a knee injury]. Would you like me to ask a few questions to ensure you've understood the information clearly?"

—      John: "Yes, that would be helpful."

—      X-Plain Health AI: "Alright, let's start with a simple one: Can you name two vegetables that are particularly beneficial for managing high blood pressure?"

—      John: [Responds with his answers]

—      X-Plain Health AI: "That's correct! [Provides feedback on his answers]. Let’s try another question to see how you’re doing with the exercise recommendations."

Challenges and Considerations

The deployment of custom GPTs in patient education presents challenges, particularly in privacy and information accuracy. Ensuring compliance with healthcare privacy laws, such as HIPAA, and maintaining the accuracy of the information provided by these AI models are of utmost importance. It's crucial to continually remind users that AI-generated content should be seen as supplementary to professional medical advice, not a replacement.

In OpenAI's custom GPT environment, users have control over their data. If they permit ChatGPT to learn from their interactions, the chats with custom GPTs remain private and are not shared with the creators. A key challenge is ensuring GPT models adhere to healthcare privacy laws like HIPAA. ChatGPT and custom GPT models consistently remind users not to share any personally identifiable information during conversations. Users also have the option to adjust their settings to prevent ChatGPT from retaining their chat history. However, these settings may not be straightforward and could be inadvertently altered during updates or when opting into new services. In addition, the field is rapidly developing, and so are OpenAI’s privacy and data training policies.

Two years following the launch of X-Plain in 1995, we established a clear distinction between Clinical X-Plain and Public X-Plain. Clinical X-Plain serves a crucial role in clinical environments, offering informed consent, discharge instructions, and specific guidance on medications and home care directly to patients. In contrast, Public X-Plain is a patient education resource available on healthcare institutions' websites, assisting patients in learning about and preparing for clinical visits. In this context, X-Plain Health AI is envisioned as a public-facing tool accessible online to aid patients in understanding and preparing for healthcare encounters. It is distinct from the discharge documents that healthcare providers typically hand to patients following outpatient, inpatient, or emergency room visits.

Monetization

The introduction of the GPT Store by OpenAI marks a significant shift in the landscape of AI application development. Like an app store for AI technologies, this platform allows creators to publish and potentially monetize their GPT models. Although still in its infancy, the revenue-sharing model indicates a promising avenue for creators to benefit financially from their innovative AI solutions in healthcare.

What do we know so far? OpenAI covers the cost of tokens for GPTs in the OpenAI GPT Store. This means neither the user nor the creator of a custom GPT bears the token cost. However, access to the GPT Store and its features is limited to ChatGPT Plus Subscribers and OpenAI Enterprise customers.

The monetization model for OpenAI's GPT Store is still unspecified and vague.  OpenAI states that it will involve revenue sharing with creators, where creators are paid based on the usage and utility of their custom GPTs. Initially, the revenue model may start with a straightforward revenue share, the specifics of which are yet to be detailed. Later, there might be options for subscription-based access to individual GPTs, depending on demand.

These monetization policies are dynamic and tentative; for the most current monetization models, check OpenAI's official website.

Our patient education solutions are exclusively licensed to healthcare institutions and stakeholders, not directly to patients. However, with OpenAI's proposed model for monetization, we are poised to indirectly offer X-Plain Health AI to patients and individual users for the first time, a departure from our traditional approach of licensing only to healthcare service providers. Given the importance of ensuring accuracy and privacy, we will maintain X-Plain Health AI as a public patient education tool rather than a clinical one until these critical factors are fully guaranteed.

The Future

Looking ahead, the potential of AI in patient education is immense. Future developments in custom GPTs are expected to include a deeper understanding of language nuances, more sophisticated bias mitigation techniques, and enhanced integration with other applications.

Regarding its integration with other applications, future custom GPT models for patient education will offer capabilities such as:

Seamlessly combining several aspects of patient care, including treatment planning, patient education, and follow-up care.

Dynamically adapting educational content in real-time based on the user's preferences, interaction style, and updates in their health records.

Utilize predictive analytics to identify potential health risks and deliver tailored educational content to patients accordingly.

Enhancing patient engagement and understanding using augmented reality in educational materials.

Final Notes

As custom AI models like X-Plain Health AI evolve, it’s crucial to steer their integration and governance in patient engagement proactively. To ensure these advancements serve the best interests of all involved, consider the following:

Healthcare thought leaders should commit to ongoing research and develop oversight processes. Regular evaluations of custom GPTs for accuracy, privacy protection, and clinical effectiveness are essential. This continuous monitoring facilitates responsible innovation that truly benefits patients.

Policymakers must act promptly to establish data governance laws specifically for healthcare AI. These regulations should balance patient rights protection with the encouragement of empowering innovations.

Patients should be encouraged to learn about and use AI-powered educational tools. They need to recognize that, while valuable, these tools are not replacements for professional medical advice.

By fostering frameworks that promote accountability in tandem with technological advancement, we can revolutionize how individuals learn about and manage their health.

As we stand on the brink of a new healthcare age, X-Plain Health AI represents a pivotal shift from one-size-fits-all to a world where patient education is as adapted as a tailored suit.

[asrarblog]

Medical Affairs Function in Pharmaceuticals – Asrar Qureshi’s Blog Post #873

[kadextra]

Welcome to a quick but important language lesson before our lovely Korean speaking members join the QSMP!

I call it:

“No, that Korean speaker is not casually saying the N-word.”

The Korean word for “I/me” is 내가, romanized as “nae-ga”

The Korean word for “you” is 니가, romanized as “ni-ga”

They are not saying a racial slur. It is literally the word for me/you. please understand the context, and get familiar with hearing these words all the time in normal conversation.

Read this article, this is what they have had to deal with in the west before.

Above all, extend grace and understanding to the new members and new communities. Research things yourself, and educate your friends about their language and culture to avoid misunderstandings. Realize that for many of these new people, this may be their first time interacting with another culture- let alone so many at once. They will be learning themselves, and may make mistakes. Be patient and for the love of god don’t scare them off. spread love <3

Important Quackity Studios thread

[tarotwithdanise]

WHAT MAKES YOU THE MAIN CHARACTER IN THE CROWD?

꒰⠀from left to right ; intuitively choose the pile your mind, heart and soul desire for. if you are having trouble choosing the right pile for you, here’s some tips you can do ; (1) take a deep breath (2) close your eyes (3) ask guidance from your guides (4) finally open your eyes and you can choose the right pile for you by the guidance you ask from your guides. if you are still having trouble by choosing the right pile for you let me know because i am willing to help and guide you.

send your donations here

PILE ONE

AoW, Temperance, 6oW.

you are the protagonist when you inspire people. when you become someone who lives actively and someone who became an inspiration to people with it's loving nature and unique ideas. you are the type of person who works for what you want instead of just waiting around the corner. you are the main character if you speak with some body movements or in short when you use have a body languages.

when you put much effort into your appearance for example to be well neat looking. you know what you are doing, you know your damn thing and you how to hype and warm yourself up. when you remain silent and calm when there's an argument, downfall or chaotic moment you are experiencing perhaps it can also determine as a reading for as you are someone who is quite influence people. well, maybe you have a sigma aura within you that's why.

when you talk, or if you put everything into how you look or look to people, and you can also know how to take care of yourself or when to warm up for you. others. if you stay calm even in such chaotic moments of life and if you are patient about something you want to achieve. It can also mean that you influence people's lives quietly or speak too quietly. You make yourself. you seem to enlighten them in a simple but calm way. and you can also be the kind of person who reminds someone not to judge others when they determine their future, like reminding them that just because a certain person has less education doesn't mean they can't achieve high goals in life . you can also be someone who is balanced in his life, someone who treats people with balance, like not rich or poor, but equally. it was also your mindset that makes you the main character. you are a person who achieves a lot in certain areas or wherever; you are talented and people may envy you for it. you are a protagonist when you show how you can communicate well or how you respond to people and their negative opinions about you like you simply know how to burn them without actually hurting them.

PILE TWO

6oC rx, 9oC, Judgement.

shocks, you got an alluring aura that may remain a lifetime for people. you are powerful, anyone you pass by turns their heads. you are hard to let go, it's not simple for people for you to forget even though you interact with them for only once. you were also matured and grew up that fast in such a very young age due to your past mostly childhood issues perhaps you are learning and openly willing to resolve this issues. you also know how to pleasure yourself in this world, you know what you deserve like you know how to spoil yourself in small and huge things.

you are aware in your dreams and are about to attain them, you are content from what you already have and you know to yourself that you are born lucky despite these past issues ruining you inside. people perceive you as someone who often changes their physical appearance, someone who puts a lot of effort in their outlook. you also know how to defend yourself in the crowd, you fear no one.

PILE THREE

High Priestess, Death, KoW.

you got a psychic ability and you were aware about that. most people may find you as mysterious and well kept, you are mindful about people who can do bad and harm things to you. you are the protagonist as well because due to your high energy, you are easily able to get comfortable with new people and places perhaps maybe sometimes it can take your energy but overall you enjoy new beginnings. you also love to learn and learn and learn a lot, learning new is a part of your everyday life and you may call them new experiences or lessons that you can use on your near future.

i also see here that many people may have crushes or you may be secret admirers, after all, many people perceive you as an attractive and charming individual. you are also focused and serious when we talk about studies and work, you don't want to disappoint yourself because you know you are the best. people view as light and dark, some may have good opinions about while others don't.

you are a knowledgeable person but you prefer to share this knowledge with those people who are worthy of receiving for you. you are quite picky about that because you know that not all this information can be shared to anyone that easily. you are an observant individual, you rather sit back and observe what is happening in your surroundings rather than be a center of attention but as i said you enjoy meeting new people and visiting new places. i describe you as someone who is naturally introvert but selectively extrovert as a protagonist here.

[rqbossman]

Rules

Hey everyone, I thought it would be a good idea to establish some ground rules to guide interactions on here so without further ado: 1) I get to change and or ignore my own rules as and when I like. It's my blog so tough. 2) I won't even consider answering an ask unless it meets the following criteria: a) I haven't been asked it before on Tumblr. b) It is worded as a question. c) It does not ask me to rule on canon for content I make. d) It does not ask for takes on real people. e) It has a positive tone (seeking to become positive counts) f) It is not a callout (e.g. why are you so rubbish etc.) g) It is not asking for confidential information on business and/or Intellectual property h) It is not just rephrasing a previous question because people didn't like the answer. i) It's respectful. j) It is not just a veiled story request (e.g. why don't you make these characters kiss etc.) 3) This is not a press conference or an interrogation. If you want to ask serious questions about Rusty Quill and other proper topics send them to mail@rustyquill.com 4) If you DM me I will ignore it on principal. Not because I don't like you but because I am receiving so many that I can't be fair with it and it's just generally unwise anyway. 5) Remember we are all human. That means we can make mistakes, change our minds, be flippant, have a bad day and give bad advice. Please show a little grace rather than trying to catch people out. I do not support dogpiling in any situation. 6) Be kind. The fastest way to get yourself blocked by me is being unkind even if you are in the right. Some of the cruellest and regrettable actions I have ever seen have been fuelled by righteous indignation. 7) Be wise. Internet culture moves fast. Not everyone knows everything you know and not everyone needs to know everything you know. You aren't helping me if you appoint yourself "chief brainbox educator supreme" and try to school people on how things should be. Let's just all keep it chill yeah? 8) Be patient. This is not my job. This is barely even counts as a good idea! I run my social media when I can but I don't have deadlines and I don't have sociability quotas. I might do a flurry of activity when I have time then go quiet for months. Just go ahead and assume if I am not posting it's for a good reason. 9) One question per person. Don't worry it doesn't annoy me, its just I don't know if its fair me using all my social media time budget on a single person and leave others unanswered.

This is hardly a complete or exhaustive list and no doubt I have made some tragic tumblr newb error but it'll have to do for now. I am happy to take constructive feedback on these but don't expect quick turnaround on anything.

[uncanny-tranny]

The interesting thing about medically transitioning is how you might just be treated with the wrong framework.

When I get my hormone levels checked, for instance, they check it against the wrong type of person, so everything is flagged. Did you know that testosterone encourages hemoglobin production? Well, my hemoglobin is perfectly in line with male levels, but my levels are checked for the wrong endocrine system. Before I realized this, I was really confused as to why my hemoglobin was two grams over the range given, and was confused as to why that happened, and worried about if I should be worried about that. But it was a normal consequence of my testosterone levels, which are also flagged though they are well-within the range that is typical for my age and health categories.

The way we treat and measure for trans people and trans patients will affect the treatment and education they receive. There are ways in which hormones especially can influence how one's body operates, and with that in mind, you also have to change the way you interact with a trans person. With my testosterone levels, if you were to measure them against the incorrect endocrine system, you would fail to treat me in reality - that being the way my body has changed and maintained homeostasis since being on T.

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Hannibal Lecter Headcanons (General)

''Nothing here is vegetarian." — Hannibal Lecter.

❝ 🍽 — lady l: I think it's amazing that my hcs become more and more extensive lol, but you like it, don't you? Hannibal is my newest fixation and I loved writing for him, due to his personality. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! It's four in the morning here 🤎🤍.

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, cannibalism and murder.

❝🍽pairing: yandere!hannibal lecter x gender neutral!reader.

Hannibal Lecter is decorous and very polite and he really appreciates that, politeness. He values ​​and is easily offended by people who are rude or who do not have the correct manners, especially at the table. In addition to being a perfectionist analyzer.

He believes that the way people behave at the table directly reflects their education and social status. Hannibal is meticulous in choosing ingredients, preparing meals and presenting dishes. The problem is that his food tends to be human flesh, but Hannibal doesn't consider himself a cannibal, since the victims he chooses are seen as pigs to him.

Hannibal is known for his distinct personality and his appreciation for elegance and refined etiquette. His impeccable education, combined with his exquisite taste, creates an intriguing and contradictory image, due to his serial killer side. He stands out not only for his intellectual abilities and his ability to appreciate high culture but also for his meticulous and artistic approach to his darker pursuits.

You must have his politeness and good manners, that's the least he requires, Hannibal doesn't like rude people and although he won't kill you, he would have to teach you to have good manners. He will be happy to do so, however.

When interacting socially, Hannibal is observant and analytical, evaluating people based on their behavior at the table and in everyday situations. His aversion to rude people puts him in a unique position where he feels compelled to correct these "lapses" in etiquette. The way he corrects these mistakes varies from murder to a class, in this case, that class would be just for you.

You would have to be someone who achieves these Hannibal decorums, or comes close at least, for him to become obsessed with you. He likes polite people and will be happy if you are one of them, but if you are not or don't know the correct manners very well, don't worry, he will help you.

Hannibal is a psychiatrist and is very well aware that his thoughts of you are not ''normal'' or healthy, but he doesn't care. He knows it's morally wrong to do what he does and does it anyway, so what are some dark thoughts about you? But these thoughts quickly become actions he committed in your name.

He will take notes about you and create your psychiatric profile and if there is something ''wrong'', he will offer therapy for you, that is if you were not already his patient. Always very observant and attentive, he will be keeping all the necessary information about you, so that he can use it to catch you later.

If you have problems with your family or friends, Hannibal will take care of it. He doesn't like the idea of ​​someone wanting to hurt you, whether emotionally or physically, and most likely he will kill them one by one and serve them to you. Of course, without your knowledge. He knows you're not ready to know that yet.

Hannibal will be very picky about your food, just as he is about his. If you eat poorly or incorrectly, he will correct it. He enjoys cooking for you and will be adamant about doing so, serving refined recipes and elaborate dishes using fresh ingredients. Hannibal is a bit too controlling.

He is not possessive, but rather obsessive. Hannibal doesn't like it when you get too close to other people, but he will be more uncomfortable if it's someone he has apathy or something against. But he will sort it out. He feels jealous, but he deals with it in his own way, releasing that feeling on other things... Or people.

Hannibal is quite protective of you and will be adamant about keeping you safe. He may try to convince you to live with him or will make regular visits to your home, work or where you study. He will always be around when he gets the chance, just to look out for you.

He will try not to completely succumb to his desires, as Hannibal doesn't like being controlled, and allowing you to have so much power over him makes him more than uncomfortable. At least until he is sure that you will let yourself be completely dominated by him, only then will he feel more comfortable in making his feelings for you clear.

Hannibal Lecter is very intelligent and knows very well how to get rid of evidence that could incriminate him. Besides being a psychopath who doesn't feel remorse or empathy for others, he becomes softer when he's with you. Although his feelings aren't clear or fully understood, he knows he cares about you, enough that he wants you to be his. And you'll be his.

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

not be able communicate by words means… constantly be misunderstood. misinterpreted. not have any way show own perspective, your side of story. your story always written talked about interpreted read thru other people.

someone did something wrong you. someone hurt you. someone say wrong thing…

someone make up malicious thing about you. maybe that you rude ungrateful bad temper behavior problem. it now become truth it now become you because there no way you correct them.

you can’t educate them. you can’t explain it to them. nevermind that, for example, you severely disabled n having symptoms that impact quality of life, or have symptoms that dare inconvenience people - can only watch as people around you speak “for” you not with your interest in mind but of their own selfishness - that people who can communicate by word say you only do that because you lazy, you selfish, want attention, on purpose, just want to for no reason, faking, inherent personality flaw.

not just big things. more often it those small things that build up every day, happen tens n hundreds of times each day, every day, every week, every month, every year… more often it those small things that add up that break you.

imagine everything bad, incorrect, & bad and incorrect thing said about you in your life. n now imagine you not able defend yourself, explain yourself, or even say those wrong not true.

n any attempt of yours to maybe protest, not enough, people not understand, or downright not listened to, made fun of. at first you shake head make noise meaning no all calm. after while of it not work you get frustrate n it start showing. you get impatient n snappy, why none of you understand, is any of you even trying. but people around you with privilege of able communicate n defend self thus never have experience of not have that, find it such basic of skill that they no longer see it as acquired skill but instead see as innate, born in, natural, cannot imagine person not have it just like can’t imagine living person not breathing—they only see their perspective n only see their interaction n not the many, hundreds n thousands, of previous communication where no one understood you (or even tried to). so they mock you (sometimes they the one who on purpose provoke you to see your reaction like you monkey in cage for their entertainment), geez big reaction why can’t you be patient. n you get label, impatient, rude, explosive, anger issues.

you protest in only way you can without words. you do it by sounds n noises n movement. you raise voice you scream you smash thing around you you hit yourself in frustration you hit other people who don’t understand you because you frustrated at their incompetence n how much they failing you. because. show me another way person can communicate without words. show me way that one can continue do after tens n thousands of misinterpretations n miscommunications n malicious interactions, n still remain calmly, “appropriately.”

you communicate in only way you can with only emotion you can feel at this point: anger, frustration, helpless. be misunderstood, even smallest innocent one, become trauma become trigger. miscommunication alone can set it off, make you see red n see billion of previous miscommunication where everyone failed you n left you to fend for self. then the backhanded jab that sometimes follow, that make thing exponentially worse.

you communicate in only way you can with only emotion left you can feel that consume you. loud sounds, screaming, get physical. it not earn you be understood. it only earn you this: be called impatient, irrational, explosive, land mine, rude, ungrateful, annoying…

“behavior issues.”

and that’s another misinterpretation of you you can’t defend yourself against. cycle repeats.

n other verbal people only listen to other verbal people. so these descriptions of you become “your truths”.

n the true you left there. to rot.

a lot people with no functional communication (either because no ability, or because circumstances) labeled as have behavior issues. yeah, no fucking shit. try it for a while. anyone would “have behavioral issues” in these circumstances.

no one seem to care. so okay fuck yeah am difficult kid, have behavioral issues, make your life miserable. yeah am terrible person, have inherent personality flaw of no fault but my own. except now do it on purpose, make it true now, put ability to control own truth in own hand. because you all seem want me be that so bad. so now you get it. don’t complain now, you all asked for it really really nicely.

but deep down. at most basic. hidden beneath. really just. want be understood. want be helped. want people to learn my communication.

“many behavior is communication” yes, those kind of behaviors should be respected n valued n listened, but try behavior your way out of correcting n explaining everything just said in post to person who just don’t seem to get it

without rely on good grace of nice people around you who keep on play guess games n give out guesses in words you can nod or shake head to. now, that’s cheating.

people not nice to people who *have no choice* but to *only* rely on behaviors & vocal noises to communicate

n, even if every single person nice. behaviors n vocal noises alone, not enough.

this written with full time experience in mind

[michelle-is-writing]

Wedding Mornings, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.2k~

As a child, I always wondered if I would ever find the right person for me. Having no luck to find such a person as a teenager, I ended up wondering if I would even find a husband, better yet, my soul mate. In years to come, I would start to believe that I would be alone forever.

However, once I moved to Washington DC and found a job at the Melvin Gelvin library, I soon befriended a man that visited there a lot. I had seen him in the research section before, but he never came up to my desk for help. I thought he was cute, in all honesty, but I didn't want to come off as too confident and go up to him to see if he needed help when I never did that with anyone else in the library.

So, the one day he did come up to me and ask me where to find a book I had seen him take out many times, I smiled and nodded before helping him find the book. He was nervous asking me his question, and I couldn't help but be a little nervous as well. Although, once we found the encyclopedia for Philosophy, he introduced himself as Spencer Reid, and I couldn't help but rejoice as my name fell from my lips in return. Finally, I got to learn the name of the man who I had shared glances with so many times, yet, we never interacted - up until then.

After that, it felt like a free-game. Anytime Spencer came into the library, he was asking me for books that I knew very well he was aware of where they would be. In spite of this, I always helped him, and after he checked out the third book I had seen him read many times before, Spencer finally asked me out for coffee.

Unfortunately, our date kept getting postponed because of Spencer's job. At first, I thought he was backing out in regret since it had already taken him so long to ask me out in first place. However, once we did go on that date, I discovered that that wasn't even a tiny fraction as to why he kept rescheduling. As soon as I found out that Spencer held such a huge responsibility with a job that relied on him to capture mass murderers and kidnappers, I found myself in complete admiration for him. Not to mention the fact that all of the science books he had been checking out weren't for class or education - he already earned his degrees in those fields beforehand.

Now that I have a dazzling ring on my finger, I'm even happier that I was patient in waiting for Spencer to finally make it to our date. I knew how long I waited for that coffee shop date he promised - six-whole-weeks. However, I never knew how long I was waiting for a man like Spencer to make his way into my life until I found out how much I truly loved him. Through saying those three words that are often said too much, I discovered that I had waited my entire life to find Spencer, and when he proposed to me in Rossi's garden one late night, I found out that Spencer truly felt the same way.

Soon enough, the months before our wedding slowly passed until the brightest week of our lives came up, and once that started, it was like everything was going at twice the speed it should have been going. All of my bridesmaids (JJ, Emily, (f/n), and Penelope) ran around like chickens with their heads cut off while Spencer's groomsmen (Derek, Aaron, and Rossi) did the same. Even during the morning of my wedding, everyone was running around to get things done while I just stayed in my bride's quarter's kitchen and did the same thing I did every other morning.

"I'm just saying," Penelope starts, watching as I pour freshly made coffee into a mug for Spencer. "It's bad luck for a groom to see the bride before the wedding!" She reminds me, causing me to smile.

"I thought that was only if the bride was wearing her dress," I point out, adding more sugar than actual coffee into the mug. "And, besides," I add, giving the coffee one last stir before placing the spoon down on the counter. I have no idea how Spencer can drink this stuff with nearly half of the mug filled with sugar.

Turning toward Penelope with the steaming mug in hand, my eyes quickly catch onto the expertly made bouquet in her hands, every flower I wanted beautifully bundled together with a gorgeous (f/c) bow wrapped around the stems. How is she so good at any creative thing she does?

"I've made Spencer his coffee every morning since our first day living together, Pen," I tell her, smiling as I think about the fond memory. Sometimes he'll make me a cup too if I haven't done so myself. "I don't want to miss a day because of some old, wise tale that's probably been taken out of its original context," I add, slightly smirking as I know that's the truth. Once the words leave my mouth, Penelope can't resist the smile the makes it's way onto her lips as she shakes her head.

"Well, I don't think anything I say is going to stop you," She notes, earning a head nod back from me. She's right. Nothing is going to make me halt in my actions of bringing Spencer his coffee - not even a silly little fairytale.

Heading out of the hotel room in only my silk pajamas that match the rest of the girls' clothes, I find myself walking across the hall with my heart pounding in my chest. It's strange to just now realize that today is the official start of my forever. It's a fantastic feeling, but at the same time, it's giving me a high that I feel like I can't come down from. It's a dangerous, yet blissful thing.

Just as I round the corner to walk to the other end of the hall, my eyes quickly catch onto a familiar figure leaving his hotel room. There's no way I could ever forget those brunet curls or the slender body of the man I love. Although, what is a bit odd is that he's currently carrying a coffee mug of his own. I guess he didn't think that I'd stick to what we've always done.

"Good morning, handsome," I greet Spencer, causing him to lightly jump before turning around and seeing me. Once his eyes land on my pajama covered figure, he visibly calms down with a small sigh and smile.

"I wanted to go and see you, but the guys wouldn't let me. So, I had to sneak out," Spencer explains with a shake of his head, making me laugh. Just as I do that, Spencer's whole demeanor changes as if he's softening up. His tense shoulders loosen while his posture relaxes a bit, another sigh leaving his slightly smiling lips as he does so. He looks calmer than any other time I can remember.

"You... you look amazing," he compliments me, causing me to blush with a wide smile. My hair is an absolute mess right now, a majority of it up in a clip as I haven't brushed it yet. Not to mention my face doesn't even have a touch of makeup on it and I'm still in pajamas - there's nothing about me that says "amazing" right now. I don't know how Spencer can say such things.

"Thank you, baby," I tell him, taking a few steps forward before planting a kiss to his cheek. Despite today being the day of our wedding, Spencer's cheeks turn to light pink in response to my lips touching them as they always do, and I can't help but smile as I see the rose color take over his skin. Despite what some people say, I truly believe there's a good chance it will always be this way.

"I made you coffee for this morning," I tell him, gesturing to the steaming mug in my hand. "But I didn't know you made your own already," I further add, watching as the corner of Spencer's lip quirks up. Is he surprised that I would do this?

"Actually," he starts, holding the cup out to me. "I made this for you - that's why I was heading out of the room so I could go and give it to you," Spencer explains, trading mugs with me as a bright smile takes over his face. "I'm glad that we both had the same idea."

Smiling back, I nod before taking a sip from the cup of coffee Spencer made me, Spencer following in suit with the cup that I made him. We both let out a small, satisfied groan as the taste of coffee reaches our lips.

"You always manage to make my coffee perfect," Spencer points out, making my heart clench. He's so adorable, and he doesn't even realize it.

"And I'll never forget it, love, not for a long time," I tell him, leaning closer to kiss his cheek. However, before I can do so, Spencer takes the chance to wrap his free arm around me and pull me against him. Now satisfied, Spencer gives off a small hum before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine. In his arms, I feel the happiest I've felt this morning, and with the events of today being added in, I am more than ecstatic right now. Making coffee for Spencer every morning for the rest of my life is only a small fraction of what our marriage is going to be, and I can't help but look forward to doing it.

"I'm so glad we're doing this," Spencer confesses, pulling away from my lips to rest his nose against mine. Smiling, I gently sigh as I feel his hand on my waist sliding underneath my pajama top and onto my skin. His touch is so gentle that I could almost mistake it for a cloud touching me. "I've waited so long for this."

"I wish we would've done it sooner," I admit, nuzzling the side of my face into Spencer's soft sleep shirt. "Then I could've been Mrs. Reid for a long time now," I point out, turning my eyes up to the smiling man holding me.

"I do like the sound of that," Spencer murmurs, smirking as he leans farther down to press his lips to my neck. "Misses Reid," He slowly says my new title, each syllable rolling off his tongue smoothly. Even before we were engaged, he would jokingly call me that, but now that I'm actually Mrs. Reid, my love for the name has only grown.

With that, Spencer and I connect our lips in another sweet kiss while holding each other close. In his arms, I feel the warmest and happiest I have ever been. Nothing could ruin this moment between us. It's simply too perfect.

"Stop making out in the hallway! You'll be doing enough of that later!" A stern voice interrupts us, causing Spencer and me to look over to the hotel room door he stepped out of a few seconds ago. Hanging out of the empty doorway is Derek who's smirking with an accusing eyebrow. "Isn't it bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony?"

"Actually, Derek, it's only bad luck if-" Spencer argues Derek just as another voice cuts in.

"What are you two doing?!" A shout sounds throughout the hall, the tone full of Penelope Garcia's typical sassiness. Immediately, both of our heads shoot toward the end of the hall where the spunky blonde stomps toward us. "What have you two been doing?!"

"Derek, help us," I beg, turning my head back to Spencer's best man. Instead of doing what I actually asked, Derek laughs and shakes his head while holding his hands up.

"Oh no," he starts, "I'm not suffering at the hands of the woman behind you."

"Yeah," Penelope states, matter-of-factly. "I would be scared too if I were you, missy," just as soon as the words leave her lips, Penelope puts her hand on my arm and practically drags me out of Spencer's arms while Derek does the same to Spencer, both mindful of the mugs in our hands.

"You can see your beautiful bride in a couple of hours," Derek assures my soon-to-be-husband while he gives me one last kiss. As soon as his lips touch mine, I realize this is the last kiss before the one kiss we get to share that marks our forever with each other. Plus, I have no doubt that our friends will be cheering and teasing us as we do so - just like Derek and Penelope do right now. Just at the single thought, I can hardly wait.

[sanjoongie]

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣: ℙ𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕔 𝕊𝕖𝕩

🥀Pairing: Cowboy! San x wise woman! Reader (f)

🥀Genre: Smut

🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact

🥀Au: western au, cowboy au, witch au

🥀Trope: fwb to lovers

🥀Summary: When San comes to you, the local wise woman (read rumored witch), to get a bullet wound dressed, he's also looking to convince you to let him under your skirts, and your heart

🥀Kinks: Public sex, penetrative sex with no barrier, San's a sweetheart and a tease, yes the cowgirl position with cowboy san 😆, thicc dick san

🥀Warnings: mentions of a gun fight, bullet wound, blood, tending to wound

🥀Word Count: 1,931

🥀Betas: @mejuii

🥀Day Three: mirror sex 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Five: Dacryphilia

You were tending to your herb garden when San cantered down the road to your cabin tucked against the mountain. You raised your hand to block out the sun and knew immediately who was making so much dust your way. If you didn’t recognize his white horse dappled with gray or the way he tilted his hat, you sure recognized the big ol grin he sported, defined by his dimples.

“San,” You greeted him as he drew his horse abreast of you, dusting off the dirt on your skirts.

“Ma’am,” San tipped his hat graciously, and then winced.

You clucked your tongue immediately. “What kinda trouble did you get into now?!” You demanded.

San’s smile widened. “Just a few bandits trying to get away with Hongjoong’s cattle.”

You jerked your head to the shed you used to treat the few brave townfolk that dare come to you for any illness. They swore you were a witch but you were just educated--unheard of in these parts, but then again, that’s why you settled here.

San swung his leg over and dismounted from his horse. San clucked his tongue at Silver Light, and lightly wrapped the reins around the post before your cabin, letting the horse drink water from the trough.

“Can you even take your jacket off?” You scolded your new patient, washing your hands quickly with the lye soap you kept near the basin.

“I--” San hissed as he moved his arm again and you sighed heavily.

“When are you going to use any sense of self-preservation?” You said with your hands on your hips, after wiping them on a rag.

San paused jacket half pulled off, held up his elbows. Instead of answering your question he sent you a wounded look. “Help?”

You grumbled about men having less sense than a chicken but carefully helped him off with his heavy, long jacket. You cast an analytical eye over San’s injuries. “Lie to me, San.” It would be better if San kept himself distracted by talking.

San took a seat in the only chair in the shed and began to weave his tale. “Well you see, the bandits don’t have any wrangling experience so the herd was pretty much running with their own instincts and no matter of hooting or hollering was making those cows go where the bandits wanted them to,” San told you, more than happy to speak of a story that would probably make him look good in your eyes.

You fetched forceps to pull out the bullet clearly lodged in San’s arm and a bottle of whiskey. You splashed the forceps with some of the liquid before handing the bottle to San. He took a swig. It wasn’t his first time in your chair and it wouldn’t be the last, the damn fool. The only tells that he was hurting as you dug for the bullet were tiny creases at the corner of his eyes, but for the most part, he didn’t whimper or whine, not once.

By the time you had extracted the bullet, San had told you about leaping from Silver to the lead bull’s back and forcing it to turn by grabbing the bull’s horns firmly and turning its head. You rolled your eyes and San laughed, high-pitched and light, at your response.

You dipped a clean rag in some of the whiskey and dabbed at his wound. This time he groaned and you slanted a glare his way. San pushed out his lower lip. “Come on, Darling, give me some sympathy. I saved Hongjoong’s whole herd!”

You finished bandaging his arm up. “You will get no sympathy from me, Choi San,” You refused, “And what did I tell you about calling me darling?”

San’s good arm wrapped firmly around your waist and brought you onto his lap. “You told me to never call you darling again,” He told you solemnly. “But I can’t forget about that night we shared.��

You rubbed your eyebrow. “San,” You said his name in warning, “You can’t be associated with me. The whole damn town thinks you’re a local hero. If they think you’re warming the bed of the local witch--”

“I don’t care what they think,” San said, voice getting low and husky, “I care about--”

You laughed bitterly and got up. Or tried to. San’s damn arms, one injured or not, were strong. You weren’t a frail Bank Owner’s daughter but you still didn’t stand a chance against that man. “Let me go, San.”

San sighed, defeated, and let you go. “Okay, Darling, don’t get your skirts in a twist.”

You let out a screech of frustration and stomped out of the shed, slamming the door. San’s eyes were wide at your tantrum and your reaction only made him chase after you. “Wait, I didn’t--”

You made it to the well before San caught up with you. “No, you didn’t, San, and that’s the point. You don’t think and every day I see someone galloping up that road, I’m sure it’s going to be one of the other boys to tell me you got yourself injured or worse!”

“You keep talking like that a cowboy might start thinking you were soft on him,” San teased you.

“Don’t you start!” You waggled your finger at San. San was back to grinning again and you rolled your eyes again. “You’re incorrigible!”

“My mama always told me that,” San nodded, conceding to you. “But she also told me that if I ever found a woman who had a soft spot for me to--”

“San, no,” You shook your head. You turned around to lower the bucket into your well and draw up some new water.

San’s callused, uninjured hand covered yours on the well lip. “Darling, please.”

You shook your head. “You’ll be ostracized. They’ll spit on you. What if Hongjoong doesn’t want to employ you at his ranch anymore? We can’t get married, they won’t let me within yards of that church. Any children--”

San pushed your shoulder with his good one. “Children, huh?”

“San,” You said, “I’m serious.”

San’s eyes were hooded and your stomach dipped. “I’m serious too. Let me learn your body again, Darling?”

You swallowed, the lack of moisture having everything to do with the cowboy in front of you. You put your hands on his chest, smooth over the leather vest and then pulled him closer. “You’re going to regret this.”

A slow, crooked smile pulled at San’s lips, flashing his teeth at you. “I don’t regret anything I do in life, other than when I let you push me away the first time.”

His head dipped and he captured your lips between his. His kiss was slow and sensual, giving you all the time in the world to push him away if you chose so. And when you didn’t, he tilted his head to suck your lower lip between his. You moaned into his mouth. He chuckled against your lips and pulled away. “You’re gonna have to help me with your skirts, Darling. I’m one arm down and that’s a sin when I’m finally able to fuck you good.”

Your eyes widened. It was almost high noon and almost anyone could come this way. “San, surely not out here?”

“Yes, out here,” San said, husky voice only adding moisture to your nether regions.

“I’m not going to let you mount me like a damn saloon girl!” You protested.

San tilted your head up with his good hand and kissed you again, softly. “Give me a thrill, Witchy Woman. You know half the town doesn’t dare come up here ‘cuz they think you’re going to be naked and covered in chicken’s blood. It’ll be fine.”

“Get hard at the thought of that?” You challenged him.

“Hell yes,” He chuckled.

Your eyes scanned the outdoor area. There was a real soft patch of grass near the big oak tree. “You lie down, cowboy. I’m not the injured one.”

San wrapped an arm around your waist and meandered towards said tree, unwilling to let you go farther than an arms length from him again. “You gonna ride me, Darling?”

“San,” You growled a warning again.

San laughed again and your heart beat against your chest. “If I was afraid of a strong woman, I wouldn’t have come to you the first time I got beat up after that young stallion bucked me when I was trying to break him in?”

San laid down on the sweet patch of grass in front of your oak tree. He was already hard and pressed up against his jeans, chaps only outlining his hard-on. You freed his cock, and then pulled up your skirts to slot it against your wet entrance.

You sunk down on him, slowly taking his girth. San’s hand rubbed your hips through your skirts, encouraging you to take your time. Staring down his nose, he looked delectable lying under you. His arms bulged from restraining himself, free from his heavy jacket, and only his vest covering the ample chest you knew was under.

“S-san,” You stuttered, still struggling with getting him fully inside of you.

“Your cunt’s so sweet for me,” San cooed at you, biting down on his lip, “So wet and inviting. It’s like I’m coming home.”

“Shut up,” You said half-heartedly, “Who ever heard of a cowboy who waxed poetic. Aren’t you just supposed to grunt while you fuck me?”

San chuckled. “But you’re fucking me, rememeber?” San whimpered when your walls clamped down on his length at his remark. “You like being in charge, Darling?”

“You’re hardly--hnnnffff--in any position to not listen to me--ahhhhh--” You rolled your hips experimentally and found that you were wet and opened up enough to move.

“Gonna fuck me good, Darling?” San continued to encourage you. “Fuck,” He bit down aggressively on his bottom lip again, practically sucking it in, “You really do know how to use those hips of yours.”

“Hnnnnn--San,” You whined, “You’re too--oh god--” San had tensed his pelvis muscle and suddenly you were able to bounce more aggressively against him.

“Come on, sweetness, give me everything you’ve got.” San locked gazes with you. He practically had hearts in the center of each of his irises. Goddamn it, this man was so sweet on you, and you felt your walls melt under his adoring gaze.

Your knees were getting stained by the grass under you but you were past the point of caring. You worked San’s length inside of you until the both of you were a whimpering, whining mess. You came first, shouting his name and seeing stars behind your eyelids. San felt your walls flutter around him and then he was a goner as well, attempting to hold you down on his cock as he unloaded inside of you.

“That’s it, Darling, you milk me dry. It’s all for you,” San groaned loudly, eyes rolling into the back of his head. He was smiling like he was a cat with milk, however. “With that orgasm, I’ll be rolling out of your bed tomorrow morning, good as new.”

Your eyes widened at his declaration. Before you could protest, San shook his head. “I’m staying and you can’t talk me out of it. You gotta take care of me. I’m injured.”

You sighed heavily but this time it wasn’t serious at all. “You really are incorrigible, Choi San. What am I going to do with you?”

“It’d be nice if you fucked me when the sun is pretty and setting but that might be wishful thinking on my part,” San mumbled with an adorable pout.

🥀Day Three: mirror sex 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Five: Dacryphilia

[prettyboykatsuki]

VIOLET | RAZOR. (GENSHIN)

✾ tags ; afab + gn!reader, aged-up characters, virginity loss/first times, established relationship, mutual virginity loss, nipple play, fingering, oral (f!recieving), creampies (reader is using a contraceptive), reader is mentioned to be an orphan / run away , 18+

✾ wc ; 6.1k (went to edit and went 700 words over the wc. pain)

✾ a/n ; i'm losing my mind btw. razor my only triple crowned character my most greatly beloved my angel my sweet. also i added the aged up tag mostly bc its the genshin fandom but. if u dont like that dont read. ez peazy.

also trust and believe the voice im picturing in this is his jpn dub. this is important

✾ synopsis ; you resolve yourself after many long years of abstinence, you're going to ask razor about sex the minute he comes home.

Razor is human. 

On a technical level, this information isn’t news to you. He looks human. His physical makeup is human. He needs to eat and sleep like humans do. Focusing on the technicals alone, Razor is very, very human.

It doesn’t change that he was raised by wolves, though. And you don’t want it too. You think it’d be a shame if he started to assimilate too much into human society just because he felt like he had too. You know how he feels about it. And that Boreas is the closest he’s ever had to a father figure, thus making his claim about Razor's humanity a rather devastating blow. He feels inhuman all while knowing he is. You think once upon a time, he really did wish to be a wolf. 

You’ve known Razor since you were a teenager. You’d ended up in Wolvendom after your exploration of Teyvat led you to its outskirts. You’d bonded over your similarities. Two orphans with no real place where they fit in completely and complete odd-ball personalities - Razor was an easy friend for you to make. Even when you eventually decided to settle into Mondstat - you’d made a point to visit Razor regularly and spend time with him in the forest. 

You made an odd pair of course, but you didn’t mind. If no one else understood you in the world - you know Razor always would. He’d listen patiently about all of your adventures and sit quietly as you decided to pester him by braiding his hair or teaching him new words. Loyal, obedient, sweet.

You never formally had the boyfriend conversation in the time you’d spent together. One day, however, Razor took you to meet Boreas out of the blue as well as the leader of his pack. You figured maybe it was something he did with his close friends. It only occurred to you that maybe this was a more serious meeting when Razor promptly gestured towards you and introduced you as his mate. 

Razor, predictably, was very confused about your minor freak out. You tried not to let it show during your little chit-chat, but afterwards you’d shaken him by the shoulders and interrogated him about his word choice. This of course didn’t register in his mind at all. According to Razor, you’d been his mate since long ago. He’d been courting you since the moment you met in the way wolves are known too. You’re an adventurer, well-versed in certain animal behaviors for the sake of survival, including wolves. 

And looking back on your interactions he was right,  Razor had been courting you from the start. The news made you flush, and you went back into Razors camp and thoroughly educated him on human courting rituals.

(“Why matter?” Razor asks, head laid in your lap while he looks up at you from inside the tent “Not important.” 

“Why would it not be important?” 

He turns towards you, head facing your stomach as one arm lazily wraps around your waist. He yawns sleepily, seemingly not worried about a thing. 

“You are mate. Mate last until death.” He explains, casually - like he’d always believed he’d spend every minute of his life with you. Like that was the only natural outcome for you both and that he’d never consider anything else. You want to explain, it’s different for humans. Humans don’t usually mate that way, you should say. But the words die out in your mouth as he clings closer to you “Sorry for..not asking.. properly. What are we…as humans?” 

You look down at where he lays, thumb brushing over his cheek. 

“Lovers or life partners. They’re closest to the word mate, in definition.” 

“Lovers easier,” He grumbles, eyebrows tightening at the complex words in your sentence “You want to be lovers with Razor?” 

You laugh. Light and bubbly and warm as you lean forward and try to mask the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Yes. We’re lovers from now on. And mates. And lupical, right?” 

Razor sighs contentedly into your midriff.

“And lupical.”)

According to Razor, you had been mates from the minute you met. According to your human timeline, you have been dating since you were both around 17. It’s been a long time since then and nothing in your relationship has changed.

You’re an adult now and you work with the city of Mondstat studying wildlife populations. You live in the city in a cottage, and Razor lives with you - though he spends most of his day outside. He does the domestic labor while you whittle away at papers and projects. Because of your job, you still spend a fair bit of time together in the wild. He has plenty of insight about the wildlife in Wolvendom and is keen enough on changes to give significant contribution to your study. His work as your partner is unofficial, but everyone acknowledges that you come together in a set. Where you go, Razor follows.

You’re happy with your life. With your relationship to your wolf-boy boyfriend, with the career you’ve carved out of scratch and the life you’ve built. You left your orphanage young and spent a long time on the run. You’re incredibly thankful for all of what you have and you could never think of what more to ask for. 

This is especially true for you and Razor. You’ve never had any real major obstacles in your relationship. Part of this comes from the wolven habit of mating for life. Concepts like pride are foreign to Razor. He says sorry even when he doesn’t completely understand and he has no concept of betraying your loyalty. Most things you can teach, he learns very quickly. But there are also some things no one ever teaches you to navigate. Some boundaries you can’t be sure you’re allowed to cross. 

You’re a blossoming, healthy person in their twenties and so is Razor. He’s scarred and athletic in the outdoorsy way and he’s a little more rugged now that you’ve both grown. He’s hit a growth spurt and he’s taller than you and every time you see his arm flex carrying in an entire boar to butcher in your yard - you start getting so hot under the collar you feel like you’re going to explode. 

The problem is: you want to have sex and you want to have it badly. You want it so bad it’s starting to make you feel like you’re a deviant. Like you’re some kind of harlot masquerading as an archon-fearing civilian.

But it’s so hard to bring up and you don’t know how you’re ever going too. 

You’re very good at asking for what you want usually. It comes with the territory. And thanks to your boyfriend's cluelessness about human social convention, asking for things isn’t embarrassing. Concepts like shame are learned through a lifetime of socialization that he lacks and while you could sit and try to teach him - you don’t think he would care either way. He listens if you tell him he shouldn’t do something, but that’s because you’re his mate and his lupical. 

What other people think is none of his concern. He cares about his Lupical. So if Lisa or Bennet or Klee tell him something, he might take it into consideration. But they, like you, love the parts of Razor that make him how he is and his complete innocence in some ways is part of that. 

You know you could very well ask Razor for sex. You’ve spent a lot of time together and you’ve learned many things about him. It’s not like there’s nothing there at all. Like his every other trait, Razor normally relies on instinct to guide him. You’ve learned through kisses and dry-humping that he can get hard at least. You’ll probably never know the details of his arousal, and the only you’ll ever find out is by having sex with him. 

You don’t know what else he knows. What Lisa has told him of the birds and the bees. 

You have tried to ask Lisa inadvertently, but she enjoys making fun of you too much to give you any straightforward answers. And in her own maternal way, she thinks it’d be better for your relationship if you go ahead and ask yourself. 

She’s right about that, but it’s also not very easy. You know Razor would never judge you. He doesn’t even have the capacity to do so. But while Razor knows nothing of shame, you certainly do. 

It’s your problem to get over. You know that. You rationalize that your fantasies are healthy and normal for someone your age. But there is something terribly humiliating about trying to express the extent of your desire apart from just having it. Is it fair to teach Razor about desire? Does he know of it already and the both of you just suffer in silence?��

Razor is a man. A grown man, and tougher than most men you know. He’s seen more than almost anyone else as part of living in the woods. You know he’s not some innocent fairy. But you can’t get over the feeling like you’re corrupting his sweet preciousness somehow. 

(This has its own charm, but that’s not relevant. Or maybe it is. Maybe there’s guilt for that too but it’s not something you can unpack) 

You’re reaching your upper limit on patience. Your hand can only do the job so long (though the import of sex toys from Fontaine do help) nothing can truly replace what you want. And what you want is Razor.

So, you’ve made your choice. When Razor comes home from…what he’s doing today - you’re going to ask him to have sex.

__

You’ve finished all of your work, did as many chores as you can, and now you’re waiting in your bedroom trying to read a book.

You haven’t even read past the first page, actually. But you’re trying. It’s hard to do anything meaningful when your brain keeps pivoting back to what's going to happen when your boyfriend returns home. 

You’re nervous and fidgeting, rubbing your socked feet together and running over the laundry list of talking points you’ve concocted trying to make this happen. You shaved but not bare because you know he definitely wouldn’t like it, but you’re clean. You aren’t sure if he’s going to like that either and he’s expressed that he likes when you smell natural. But it soothed your anxiety to shower so he’ll have to leave with it. 

You have no idea how this could go. You don’t even know how to prepare for the worst, because you don’t know what the worst is. But you reassure yourself with the fact Razor loves you and leave it at that.

You hear the door open and take a deep breath. 

There’s heavy footsteps that get louder and louder. Razor cracks the door open politely, peeking his head into your shared room. He makes a face, the softest little smile you’ve ever seen - before letting himself in and shutting the door behind him. He’s quick to undress himself - jacket and scarf abandoned along with his boots. Leaving him in green pants and a bandage around his chest and arsm. 

“Hi,” He says simply, coming down over to where you’re laid. He chooses to sit on the floor, folding his arms on the bed as he looks at you patiently “Missed you,” 

“Hey there,” Your heart is pounding just looking at him. He’s unreasonably handsome. Had he grown up in normal conditions, you think he would’ve been a very popular loner type. “How was your family?” 

“Good,” He says shortly, eyes warm and light “New pup. First time seeing since I was little. Very small and cute.” 

“I’m glad. Bet it’s nice not to be the youngest anymore.” 

“Come next time,” He says genuinely “They miss you.” 

Your heart is so full you think it might burst. It temporarily soothes your anxiety.

“Of course I will.” 

Razors eyes examine you for a minute. Your heart is still racing. Of course he notices it. He knows much more about you than you’ll ever know about yourself. His brow creases in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You look at him apologetically, immediately warmed by how worried he is. You give him a small smile. 

“I’m okay. Just a little nervous. Wanted to ask you about something.” 

“Okay. I listen. No need to..be nervous.” 

Right. He’s right about that. You sit up and Razor remains where he is. He’s seated comfortably on the floor, on his knees - between your thighs. He’s a sight for sore eyes, terribly rugged and scarred with nothing but honesty settled in his gaze. Carmine and beautiful. You fold your hands in your lap and before you can worry too much, Razor grabs one in his hand. 

He kisses your knuckles so gently, leaning his face into your palm. 

“It’s okay.” 

You figure it’s best to be straight to the point. 

“Uhm. Razor. Do you…know what sex is?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, it’s—wait what? Did you just say yes?” 

He nods again. “Miss Lisa taught me.” 

That witch. You take a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“And uhm, what did she tell you about it?” You ask tentatively. 

“Like mating but for humans. Best to do with mate. Good to be careful or else pups will come too soon.” 

You stare at him, jaw slack. 

“Right. And what else?” 

He racks his brain right in front of you. 

“Uhm. Can be for…feel good. Should go slow. Lots of things different from wolf.” 

“...Do you know how it happens? The specifics?” 

Razor goes a soft pink. Razor blushes. 

“Yes.” 

You have no idea what to feel. Not the faintest clue in the world. This is the first time in your entire relationship either of you have been in an awkward situation. You’re partially relieved it’s not completely foreign, partially feeling hot between the legs because you’re not corrupting anything. You make a face of uncertainty. 

“Oh. Uhm. Do you—have you ever.. I mean—have you ever wanted to have sex with me then? I-is that something you’d…want to do?” 

Razor almost looks perplexed by this question. He nods, then follows up. 

“Yes. A lot.” 

You nearly choke on your spit. 

“A lot?” 

“Yes. But.. Miss Lisa said to wait. Until mate asks.” 

You’re going to have a serious discussion with that damned woman later. You take a shaky breath, looking at him carefully. This is going to break you in a way you don’t know if you’ll recover from. But you’re fine, you’ve made it this far. And you don’t want to back down when you haven’t gotten to the finish line. The final blow. 

You’re not completely sure where you go from here honestly. Your brain was fully expecting to go on a long rant about sexual intercourse. Now that that’s out of the window, you’re at a loss. You decide, internally, that going straight forward is the best thing you could do for now. 

“Then… would you want to have sex with me?” 

His eyes widen then he pauses, looking worried. 

“Well…yes. But, worried. Not sure…how.” 

“Well, uhm. Normally it starts with kissing and t-touching and things like that. You can just do what feels right. Uhm.. and I’ll tell you… what I like. A-and what feels good.” You offer, trying not to show just how nervous you are even suggesting “But uhm… I also… think about it. A lot. With you.” 

His eyes light up, and you can practically see the change in him. You’ve never let yourself get close enough to look but when you see him now that you know, it’s obvious. He’s looked at you like this before. 

Like he wants you. 

“Razor,” You say, bracing yourself for impact “Come up here.” 

He’s quick to his feet. You lay back down and Razor lays himself ontop of you, hovering gently. He smells like forest, the rich warm scent of dirt and sunlight mixed with sweat that you’ve grown fond of. Looking down at you, he presses his forehead against yours with his eyes fluttered closed. 

“Mate,” His breath is warm like he’s been chewing mint leaves and sweet flowers. He does it sometimes before coming home “Love you,” 

“I love you too, Razor. You don’t,” You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of your proximity “Don’t hold back okay? You won’t break me.” 

“Want to..” He thinks slowly, brain clearly struggling to come up with the right word “Cherish. Want to cherish mate. Cherish you.” 

You give him a breathy laugh as he leans in close to you. 

“Did Miss Lisa teach you that?”

“Yes,” He replies, pressing his cheek to yours and rubbing himself against you innocently “Cherish you a lot.” 

“I cherish you a lot too,” You offer and he smiles. You feel your heart thump as you look up at him less innocently “Let’s kiss first, okay” 

He doesn’t reply. This much is familiar. Though this was something you had to teach him at first, you would go as far as saying Razor kisses better than you. He’s better than you in these ways most of the time. He knows how to read your body language down to the most irrelevant details, attuned to your physicality in a way that could only be inhuman. The first time he noticed a change in your cycle after starting some herbal contraceptives, you were turned on as much as you were afraid. 

His mouth is hot and overwhelming, plush as he kisses you passionately. He’s quick to open your mouth up with his tongue. Razor likes to taste. It’s natural for him to slip his tongue past your lips and lick at yours. You think if anyone else did it you’d be turned off. But with him hovering you over you, desperate as he pulls and nips at your lower lip - it’s stimulating.  It makes you wet before you can think about it too hard. Your hands curl themselves around his neck, tangling at the thick roots of his gray hair. 

He moans when you tug, and your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets. You do it again, a little harder and the same broken sound leaves his lips in the middle of kiss. You swallow the noise before pulling away, looking at his face. His face is perfectly rosy, lips swollen from where you’ve been kissing them.

“Did you,” You look at him erratically, eyes going over every part of his face “Did that feel good?” 

He nods, dumbfounded. 

“Felt good but,” He shakes his head in disbelief “Don’t know why.” 

You giggle, delighted with the outcome. 

“No it’s good, that’s normal.” You say trying not to babble “It’s like your body’s weak point.”

“Not weak.”

“It’s not a bad thing. I have some too. Like my neck.”

You can see the gears turning in his head.  He tucks his chin against your shoulder and before you can speak to ask him about it, he’s pressing his lips against the skin of your neck. He doesn’t stop at a kiss, though. He proceeds to lick the small patch of tender flesh, before sinking his teeth into it.

You moan. You moan sharp, almost like a gasp of pain. He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but when he sees you he stops. He blinks, then gives you a look you’ve never seen. 

His voice is almost chipped - richer and more hoarse as his fingers go over what can only be bite marks.

“Feels good?” He says, then adds more urgently “Where else?”

You’ve made him discover something. You’re sure of that. He looks awfully determined about it, too. 

You sigh shakily, grabbing his hands. Even though you’re trembling mercilessly, you want this. You want him. You let his hand squeeze around the swell of your tits - your nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your shirt. With your eyes locked on his, you brush your nipples.

“H-here,” You admit watching his eyes go dark. Animalistic. “Uhm. W-with your mouth, you c-can suck on them.” 

He’s quiet. 

“Like pup?” 

You laugh. 

“A little bit like that, I guess. But it’s different.” 

He makes a small, approving noise with his mouth, once again thinking hard about something before he continues down his path. He leaves open kisses all over your skin, hands reaching to undress you. You help him, peeling your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere. His eyes are shut closed, in bliss as he licks and bites down your neck with no real grace. His tongue is wet and rough all over you. 

You can tell you’re being primed for something animal. Like being tenderized, worked apart in a way that makes you melt into something soft. Something that can be broken without teeth, that can be swallowed in one go. It’s not a romantic kiss as much as it’s a hungry graze, a gnawing lust. He’s not being so reserved anymore, and that means sinking his teeth as far into you as he can go, not enough to break the skin. Razor would never break you. But he might ruin you, might melt you down from your very center until he can tear you apart. 

You thought it’d hurt, and it does - but in a good way. There’s some sick sense of relief in how achy your whole body is. You’re burning up because Razor wants you like he’s starving. An emptiness claws at you, makes the back of your gums ache. Makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand nearly straight as you sink deeper in. You want to be full of him and you want him to get so full off of you. 

Razor doesn’t stop his tirade even when he gets down to your chest. Instead his mouth closes around your tit, hard incisors sinking into the supple skin but only slightly gentler than before. His canines feel sharper than yours. They must be. 

“O-oh,” You can feel your voice shake as you hold onto the back of his head. He touches the other one with his free hand, squeezing and massaging the skin. He rubs your nipples experimentally in the same way you did a moment ago. “Razor, hngh,” 

A noise is pulled from the back of his throat, a growl - so hard and heavy that it reverberates into your skin. You can feel it spread through your whole body, your core tightening up. Your skin is prickly. A solar flare shooting through your spine. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been so aroused. You can hardly breathe around the weight of it sitting in your chest.

“Your scent..change.” Razor says through a breath, a thick layer of saliva where his mouth once was “Hot. So hot.” 

You nearly whimper. 

“ It’s because I’m wet…Aroused.” 

“Wet?”

“It means I want to be touched. I want you to touch me down there.”��

A beat of silence. 

“Want me..to mate with you.” He sits up onto his knees, staring at you. Your legs are around his waist loosely. He presses a hand to your clothed sex. You jolt at the contact. “Want me to fill you, here?” 

He puts his hand on your hip, on your stomach - before tucking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Want to see. What’s wet, I want to see.” 

You lift your legs slightly, pulling your shorts off as you're bent at the knee. It’s embarrassing being bare naked in front of Razor, though you’ve seen him in the same state plenty. He’s quick to grab your knee and force your legs apart wide. He’s got that same focused stare, tongue poked out as he brushes the coarse hairs on your mound with his knuckle. You squirm under the feeling. 

“Pretty,” He says first, then follows with “It’s…very warm. Hot but doesn’t hurt” 

Razor explores with his hands. He runs his finger along your slit, before using his thumbs to spread you apart. He nudges your clit. At first you wonder if it's an accident, but when he does it again - rubs a pointed circle on the aching bundle of nerves you realize he’s being intentional. 

“Here, right?” Razor says slowly and gauges your reaction “Feels good for you…here. Helps.” 

You want to ask who taught him such a thing but you already know the answer. You nod helpless, feeling the way his thumb goes back and forth. He tries it in different ways, watches whatever way makes your breath hitch the most. 

“Here makes you… jump. Like bunny rabbit. Like prey”

The word prey almost takes you out. You can’t make your words out very eloquently anymore. “It’s uhm sensitive.” 

He knows the word. You’ve taught him it. He looks at your bare cunt all awestruck, gloved hand resting on your sex as he continues to toy with your clit. You squirm and shake, even trying to pull away. Razor manages to grab you, keeps you pinned with your legs spread, using his own body to keep you like that. 

“Razor,” You moan, grabbing at his wrist “Razor.” 

“Mm. It’s soft. So soft.” 

“I want to see yours.” 

It takes him a second to register your words, but he’s not ashamed in the slightest when he does. He takes off his gloves right before. You’ve felt it, briefly, the weight and heft of his cock through clothes but you’ve never actually seen it. You gasp as he pulls it out, tucking his pants down under his balls. He’s hairy - thick dark gray hairs nested at the base. His cock has a pretty curve up, tip ruddy and bright. It’s drooling, dribbling pre-cum and heavy. He wraps his free hand around the base and strokes it instinctively. It’s a good length, but it’s thick. Thicker than you could’ve ever conjured up in your own mind.

You reach for it between your bodies, your hands trembling as you touch it. Razor lets out another throaty growl. Your hand doesn’t fit around it completely. The back of your throat tightens up.

“You’re—it’s big. I can’t—not at once. I h-have to open myself up a little bit.” 

Razor tilts his head to one side and you shake yours in reply. 

“I need to uhm,” You gesture vaguely “Make it more..wet and stretch myself out. So you fit i-inside.” 

“Want to help. Teach me.” 

“...Teach you?” 

“Easier if I..learn now. When we do it again later. Teach me..how to touch you.” 

The words sound sweet coming out of his mouth, honeyed and loving. An obedient and eager pupil, Razor has always been that hasn’t he? And he always listens the best he can, tries his hardest. You suppose that this instance is no different. You suck in a breath and spread your legs a little more. 

“Watch,” 

Razor watches. He watches as you dip your fingers into your mouth and coat them with saliva. Watches as you snake a hand in between your legs and dip your middle finger down low into your cunt - with a trembling sigh at the sudden intrusion. He watches intimately as you pump them in and out, rhythmic and noisy. The sound of your own wet heat rings in your ears as you spread yourself in earnest. 

Half-way through, Razor puts a hand on your thigh. He pushes your own hand away, and waits for you to open your eyes. He stares at you, long and hard. 

“I want to eat you. Want to lick,” His hand cups your bare pussy “Here. Make you wet. Open you by myself. Want to eat.” 

You’re speechless. Profoundly turned on by the sentiment, so much so you can’t make out your own voice. 

“Uhm,” You close your hands into a fist, tucking your chin. “You can do whatever you like, Razor.” 

He assesses the statement and you watch him take it in. He ends up on his stomach, lying between your thighs. You’re fascinated by his assurance in himself. He takes the right position between your legs. You spread out to give him easier access and he gives you a silent look of thanks. His breath is warm as it fans your cunt. 

Before you get a chance to breathe, Razor sticks his tongue and licks. It’s animalistic with no real finesse at all. He makes up for it with enthusiasm and some conclusions he’s drawn with your assistance. He sucks on your clit nearly feverish, takes it into his mouth like he did your tits minutes prior. It’s drooly and sticky and nasty in a way that makes you ashamed. You’re more ashamed because you like it, you love it really. Spit is running down, dripping down to your ass. It’s a loud slurp - a shameless, nasty hunger in how he licks up your arousal with his mouth and drenches your pussy with spit. 

His groans reverberate into you. He likes what he’s doing. The sound and touch and taste - Razor overwhelms you with all of it. There’s a tangible intensity wrapping up around you, keeping you trapped in the wolf's den. 

You don’t teach him to use his fingers. He seems to have figured it out. The pad of his middle finger draws the spit pooling along your seam before pushing itself into your tight hole. You gasp at how invasive it is at first. Razors fingers are thick and scarred and you can feel the ridges of your raised skin from healed injured when he fucks you open with them. 

It feels good. Being wanted. Being consumed voraciously and openly without any care for shame. Razor is the embodiment of raw desire and all of it- every ounce of it is being used to devour you. The descendant of wolves, the son of the forest - laid between your thighs and eating like something delicious left at an abandoned altar. 

Even clumsy, you’re turned on beyond reason. Arousal leaves you shakily pawing at him to slow down. Your voice is reduced to nothing but small whines and mewls - pleas to slow down that fall on deaf ears. 

“Razor,” Your voice is clipped “Razor, please - it’s enough. Just.” 

When he snaps out of his haze, his chin is soaked with arousal and spit. He wipes it with the back of his hand, looking at you. 

“Tastes good. You taste nice.” He praises, heaving and out of breath. 

Your stomach flares up with new found lust, hands covering your face. 

“Archons, just. Come here.” 

Razor climbs up on top of you again. You cup his face and kiss him hard, tasting yourself on him. 

“You’re so unfair. But I can’t get angry because you’re not even doing it on purpose.”

“Sorry,” 

You shake your head, kissing the corner of his mouth. Trembling with need. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I want you inside. Want you to fill me in here, so bad, Razor.” 

His eyes widen. Your desperation must reach him this time, because he nods. innocently. You’re thankful beyond words you’re on contraceptives. At this point, you think trying to use a condom would break you down.

“You just have to put it inside. But please go slowly, okay?” 

“Go slowly…won’t hurt you.” 

Razor sits up on his knees again, drawing your waist down towards him. Before he pushes into you, he lays his cock against your sex - pushing it between messy folds. His expression morphs, his jaw tensing as the head of his cock swells and throbs against your aching clit. It slides and slips so messily, pussy clinging to his hard length. You guide his cock towards your entrance while he leans forward over you. His palms are rough as they grab your hips, hands settling up under your knees. 

You can feel his cock as he rolls his hips slowly. Your nails dig into his back, indenting the skin as you cry out. It’s thick, intrusive as he pushes into your tight little hole. Even after opening you up, there’s an ache inside as the head stretches your pussy open. The raw drag of skin on skin as Razor pushes inside of you. You can feel him with every movement, your legs wrapped around his waist tight.

Razor has always had a limited vocabulary. He likes to speak in short sentences since it’s what he does best. His speech now is a lot more developed, but he still finds it troublesome. 

It stuns you when Razor's grip tightens and he swears under his breath - a single word, long and drawn out as his cock pushes into you deeply. 

“Fuck,” 

“R-razor?” 

“Feels good…feels so good. Want…move. Please.” 

“You can move, just let me hold onto you okay?” 

Razor tucks his head against your neck before he fucks you. In one smooth motion, he pulls himself out completely before shoving himself back in. It’s as gentle as he can go, but you can practically feel him shaking above you. How his whole being urged him to fuck you llike an animal. The desperation rolls off of him in waves, his own hands gripping tighter as he slowly finds a rhythm to fuck you in. Clumsy thrust that turns into careful calculated ones as you urge him to go deeper. 

“Deep,” Razor pants against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. His voice is a low growl as his hips snap up to meet the back of your thighs with each thrust. Your bed creaks each time he moves, the frame knocking against the wood “I’m deep inside you,” 

“Razor,” You sneak a hand between your bodies, clumsily toying with your clit - pleasure ruining your every thought “Harder. Give it to me harder.” 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Razor gives up on trying to hold himself back. He fucks you with nearly reckless abandon, an impressive amount of strength and weight behind each thrust. His dick pushes in and out of you hard and fast in the most unromantic way. You can feel it all the way up to your throat. It makes the back of legs and and your lower half feel tingly. Your head is blank, nothing but spotted white in your vision. You blink them open to look at Razors face. 

He’s biting at his lower lip hard, focusing all of himself on his thrusts. He’s enduring it well. Your insides clench, a fluttery sensation starting to build up between your legs. You can feel it in your belly, the knot starting to untie. 

Razor is starting to feel it too him. 

“Inside so, ngh - hot.  S-something coming, going to—” 

“A little more. Gonna cum soon, Razor. Feels so good, you make me feel so good.” 

Your mindless praise makes him whimper. A soft noise that echoes through you. You repeat it over and over, in a high voice like you’d praise a puppy. Razor takes it in beautifully, trying so hard not to succumb to his own desires. He restrains despite how hard and how fast and how deep he’s fucking you. You know it’s not easy. 

“I’m gonna c-cum, Razor,” You say, at the very edge “Cum with me. It’s okay, you can let it out.” 

You cum hard. Harder than you think you ever have in your life, then you’ve ever been able to manage by yourself. The sensation hits all at once, like falling through the sky, you can feel the clouds pushed away by the weight of you coming down through. Your insides tighten and tense one last time before everything releases at once, and waves of the aftershock leave your pussy fluttering. You’re washed with pure euphoria, crying out Razor’s name as you cum. 

Razor is quick to follow you. Your own orgasm seems to drive him over the edge, and he cums deep inside. He muffles his cry by biting into your shoulder, groaning as hot seed spills into your cunt with a harsh stutter of hips. He fucks into your pussy, soft and messy before bottoming out and nearly collapsing on top of you. 

It takes you a long minute to catch your breath well enough to speak. 

You rub Razors back soothingly before you do. He lifts his head, eyes heavy as he looks at you. 

“Wow,” He says, eyes wide and blown out. You can’t help but break out into a fight of laughter “Love you…”

“I love you too, Razor.”

“Wanna do it again,” Razor says, looking at you seriously “Can I?” 

You feel a pulse of warmth through your whole body before nodding. 

“Uhm. Yes. Just give me a break first, okay?” 

[targaryenmarvel]

Fallin' All In You (Part 2) - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You’ve known Wanda Maximoff since you were children. She was the shy and exceptionally beautiful twin sister of your best friend, Pietro. For the most part, you two never interacted, but that changes when against your better judgment, you begin to develop feelings for the girl. 

Warnings: Only cursing for now

Note: Hey, guys! Sorry for the long wait as I had no time to write the past few months. College and personal issues have kept me busy, but here's the next chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Word count: 5,936

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

///////////////////////////////////////////////

Wednesday arrived quickly, and you had offered to drive the twins to school. However, their mother had insisted on taking them herself, at least for their first day. So, instead, you patiently waited at the double-door entrance until their mother's familiar car pulled up. Pietro left the car first, walking towards you.

"I think I'm really going to enjoy this school," he declared, eyes roaming the figure of one of your soccer teammates, and you lightly shoved him.

"Get your head out of the gutter, Piet," you reprimanded him. Yet, your actions betrayed you when your own gaze landed on his sister. A sight that had left you gawking like an idiot.

The Maximoff girl was wearing a red mid-thigh dress, a leather jacket on top, combat boots with black knee-high socks, her neck was adorned with necklaces and her fingers like before with multiple rings, and finally, her long brunette hair tied up in a ponytail. She looked utterly breathtaking. You were sure you weren't the only one awestruck.

"Only if you do the same," Pietro whispered to himself.

"What? D- Did you say something?" you asked, gulping and hoping he didn't notice you checking his sister out.

"I said we need to get our schedules. Come on."

He grabbed Wanda's wrist as she stopped next to him. You exchanged a quick smile with her before taking the two to the front office to get their schedules. You discovered you shared four classes with Pietro and three with Wanda; one was with both twins. Even though you were thrilled you would be able to have classes with Pietro, the fact that you'd also see Wanda intensified your euphoria.

One of your classes with Pietro was your second-period physical education class. You couldn't talk much during the class, considering the teacher split the girls and boys for basketball. However, you compensated in your following class, which was history. You sat together in the back of the room, goofing off. You were lucky your history teacher was chill.

Your fourth-period class was art, which you had with Wanda. The brunette girl seemed so lost when she walked into the room, not knowing where to sit since she had no friends in the class. You knew Wanda had anxiety, so as soon as you caught her eye, you smiled and waved her over to the seat in front of you. You wished you could have spoken to her during class, but she seemed so concentrated on her work that you would have hated interrupting her.

After that class, the three of you went to lunch together, sitting outside at one of the tables. You were talking to Pietro when you were abruptly interrupted by two hands landing on your shoulders before blazing red hair came into view and lips pressed against your cheek. An immediate grin covered your lips as the redhead sat next to you.

Pietro raised an eyebrow at you quizzically while Wanda stared at the redhead. Of course, you know what it looked like, but you were being entirely truthful when you said Natasha was your friend. I mean, you two did kiss freshman year when you were exploring your sexuality, but it was only that one time. Besides, Natasha was dating Steve, another one of your friends.

"Guys, this is Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, these are Pietro and Wanda Maximoff." You gestured as you spoke.

"Oh, so you're the famous Maximoffs. Y/N has told me so much about you." She put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her palm.

"Good things, I hope." Pietro winked at her with a smirk, and you rolled your eyes. God, he was such a flirt.

"Don't even try, Piet. She has a boyfriend," you interjected before he could embarrass himself further.

"Maybe you should have mentioned that before, don't you think, Y/N," he whined, covering his face with his hands, causing you to giggle.

Natasha looked at you with a smug smile. "You were talking about me?" she elbowed you gently on your side, "I feel so special."

You chuckled at her playfulness. "Piet asked if we were dating."

"Sadly, no. I tried, but Y/N is the one that got away." She sighed overdramatically, causing you and Pietro to laugh.

You bumped her shoulder, still laughing, "Shut up before Steve hears you."

Your laughter died down when you looked over to Wanda, who mindlessly moved her food around, looking like she'd rather be elsewhere. You really hated that Wanda wasn't enjoying herself as much as you were, and you wished there was something you could do or say to make her feel better but came up blank. Natasha also noticed Wanda's withdrawn mood and decided to help.

"So, Wanda," she waited for the said girl to look at her before she continued, "Y/N tells me you're an incredibly skilled artist."

Wanda glanced at you with doubt. You talked to Natasha about her even though you weren't friends? When Natasha mentioned you had told her much about them, she figured she was referring to only Pietro but was trying to be friendly.

She was quiet momentarily as she looked at your barely visible red face since you had lowered your head. Then she realized Natasha was waiting for an answer. "I wouldn't say I'm incredibly skilled. More like okay," she downplayed, embarrassed by the attention.

Pietro scoffs, "Lies, sistra. Don't downplay yourself like that. You're a wonderful artist. Not just anyone is chosen to make the school mural." Wanda blushed at his praise but smiled nonetheless, grateful for his supportiveness.

Natasha coaxed Wanda to talk for the rest of lunch by asking her questions. Eventually, Wanda answered with all the confidence in the world and joked around with Natasha. She became even more comfortable when some of her friends joined you at lunch.

Afterward, you, Natasha, and Wanda walked to your science class together. Unfortunately, since Natasha was your table partner, Wanda wasn't able to sit next to you. Though you knew she'd be okay when you noticed Wanda's best friend, Monica Rambeau.

You saw Pietro once again in your sixth-period math class. Your math teacher, Mr. Grayson, soon discovered how troubling making you and Pietro were together after interrupting the class with laughter multiple times. After many glares and a verbal warning, you both decided to quiet down, not wanting to get detention.

In your next period, you didn't have either of the twins. However, Natasha and Steve were there. Considering how sickening they could be together, you weren't sure if it was a good thing.

It wasn't until the last class that you saw both twins again. Two of Wanda's friends, Shuri and Peter, were also in the class. Since you sat in the back row, there was enough room for all of you. Pietro was on your left, and Wanda was next to him, followed by her friends.

You became excited the moment you laid your eyes on the whiteboard. Your teacher was assigning a partner project; by the looks of it, one would have to be a group of three. Usually, you'd be annoyed, considering you weren't friends with anyone in your class. Of course, you liked Shuri and Peter, but they always paired together. But now that Pietro was there, you figured you'd work together. Of course, you wouldn't mind Wanda, but you were sure your recent nervousness would get the best of you.

Your suspicions were only confirmed when you peeked at the girl from under your eyelashes. She spoke to her friends, showing her perfect side profile and composed posture. You couldn't help your wandering eyes as they lowered, settling on a patch of exposed skin from her thigh accentuated by her crossed legs.

You swallowed thickly, face on fire from shame and attraction at the tantalizing sight. An inescapable weight settled on your chest, threatening to constrict your lungs until you could no longer breathe.

There was only one way to prevent the eventual humiliation of hyperventilation: to look away. Yet, you struggled to do so. God, you were such a creep, you thought as you turned away with a sigh. But, you weren't allowed time to dwell in shame as class began.

"Hello, class. First off, I would like to welcome our two new students, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff." She motioned to the two before continuing, "Okay, class, as you can see on the board, you are being paired for an out-of-class project. Usually, we read a book as a class and individually write weekly chapter summaries, but I decided to change it up a little to make it more fun and collaborative. In this assignment, there will be no weekly summaries. Instead, it will be an analysis paper and a short presentation. Unfortunately, the last time you chose your partners, it didn't work out too well, so I have assigned them myself," she announced, eliciting collective grunts of protest from all of you. Well, there goes your plan of working with Pietro.

She brushed you off before calling out who would be working with whom. "Pietro Maximoff and Jimmy Woo." As much as you were praying to get him as your partner, you couldn't help but laugh at his luck. He was probably hoping to get one of the girls as his partner. Not that Jimmy was a bad partner; you thought he was funny.

She went on with other names, and you only perked up once she called your name, "Y/N, you will be working with… Wanda Maximoff."

Despite your newfound nervousness around Wanda, you internally perked at the thought of spending more time with the girl. Although you weren't sure if she felt the same, considering the adorable frown that adorned her face. Maybe she thought it would be awkward just the two without Pietro.

When she finished listing partners, she began going into depth over the expectations for the assignment. "I will allow you to choose a novel with a film adaptation, school-appropriate, of course. Before beginning, come to me for approval. I want you all to do different books and remember that it is first come, first serve." She gave everyone in the front row a rubric on the project to pass back. "For this assignment, I want you to write a literary analysis paper and compare the effectiveness of each medium in presenting the story. You will also need to create a five-minute presentation covering the points of your essay.

Your head throbbed at all the work you would have to do, considering she wasn't giving you time during class. Your only consolation rested on the five-week deadline given to complete the assignment besides the brief paragraph due tomorrow on the expectations of each medium. Besides, you were sure to finish with Wanda as your partner in no time.

From the look of it, the rest of the class was less eased by the deadline. Most wore expressions of annoyance.

Soon enough, the bell rang, indicating the end of school, and your teacher dismissed you all.

You and Pietro walked out of the classroom, Wanda lingering behind with Shuri and Peter.

"Is your mom picking you up? I can give you a quick ride home before practice starts," you offered, taking a quick look at Wanda as she departed from her friends and continued towards you both.

"No, that's okay. Mom is picking us up," he assured, wrapping his arm around Wanda's shoulders. "Are you coming over later?"

"Uh, yeah, after practice." You looked at Wanda, who scrolled through her phone. "Hey, Wanda," you called softly, gaining her attention. "If you don't have anything planned, we can start on the assignment," you suggested.

"Yeah, that's fine," she agreed, wanting to finish it as soon as possible. She figured that the faster you completed the work, the less time she spent with you making a fool out of herself.

"Okay, perfect. See you later, guys." You waved at them, leaving for the locker rooms to change before practice.

It wasn't until nearly six that you could go to the Maximoff household. You spent a while with Pietro in his room before deciding to get started with Wanda.

You stood outside her door; an overwhelming feeling of nervousness had taken over, causing your palms to sweat profusely and your heart rate to accelerate to an uncomfortable pace. You couldn't recall the last time you had been alone in a room with Wanda for more than three minutes. Not even in silence. It made you feel like an ashole for not trying harder to get along with your best friend's sister. Maybe it'd be easier to deal with your crush if you had. With a last sigh, you knocked on the door, prepared to face Wanda.

"Come in," her sweet voice called.

You slowly opened the door only to reveal a more casual Wanda lying on her stomach as she read a book. Gone was the alluring back dress replaced by a long-sleeved shirt and sweats.

"Hey," you called from the entrance, capturing her attention.

She quickly got up onto her knees and spoke. "Hey, Y/N. Come in."

As you tentatively entered Wanda's room, a feeling of apprehension crept over you. Uncertain of where to stand or sit, you lingered nervously near the entrance. It wasn't until Wanda kindly motioned towards her desk chair that you finally felt a slight sense of ease.

"Thanks." You sat and retrieved your notebook from your backpack. "Alright, do you have any book suggestions?" you asked, getting straight to the point. You thought it'd be less awkward once you started working on the assignment.

"A few, but I'm not sure they're to your liking."

"Shoot," you responded for her to continue.

Wanda stood from her bed and removed books from the shelf as she had named them. "Okay, I have The Great Gatsby, Pride & Prejudice, and oh, The Perks of Being Wallflower," she quipped excitedly, causing your heart to melt.

"No, Percy Jackson?" you asked, nodding to the poster on the wall.

She scoffed, "God, no! The movie is a total wreck. I understand you have to change certain things to fit the big screen, but seriously, did they have to remove the best parts, especially the fight with Ares," she ferociously shook her head in disdain forgetting your presence, and you pursed your lips to contain the laughter that wanted to breakthrough too entertained by her passionate ranting. "Anyways, I only liked the casting for Percy, Annabeth, and Grover, but they had to ruin it with their horrible script. Seriously…"

Despite your great effort, you couldn't contain the chuckle that escaped your lips. You were quick to disguise it as a cough, but the harm was done. Wanda stared at you wide-eyed with flaring red cheeks.

Though you thoroughly enjoyed how the color brightened her skin, you didn't want her to feel like you were laughing at her, so you nodded vigorously, "Honestly, how could they ruin it that bad? And oh, don't get me started on Sea of Monsters. Why the hell was Kronos there? I'm glad they didn't remake any other books. "

"You like Percy Jackson?" Wanda asked, a bit stunned at your knowledge of said book series.

You hum, "I discovered my love of Greek mythology through Percy Jackson. Just don't tell Pietro. He'll probably make fun of me."

"I would know," Wanda jokes, and you both chuckle. "So, we agree that Percy Jackson is a no-go since we'd never finish writing about everything wrong. Do you have any suggestions?"

"I don't spend much time reading since I rarely have the time, but I can say I enjoyed reading The Silence of the Lambs and Carrie," you said thoughtfully.

Wanda scrunched her nose cutely in distaste at your choices. "Sorry, I'm not good with horror."

"It's okay. We can do one of yours," you offered with a shrug, not caring.

"Really?" You nodded. "Pride & Prejudice?" Wanda asked, hopeful at your response.

"I'm sure it's amazing. You are recommending it, after all."

"Alright then, do you want to start on the individual paragraph? That way, we can turn them in tomorrow." You agreed, taking out your notebook and pen from your school bag.

Wanda was finishing her paragraphs when you interrupted the silence.

"I'm glad we're partners."

Wanda's hand stopped mid-sentence, and she slowly lifted her head to look at you. Her eyebrows scrunched in an adorable way when she asked, "Really?"

"Yeah, I usually end up doing all the work, but I'm sure you wouldn't do that." You wanted to tell her it wasn't the only reason, but you didn't want to make her uncomfortable. The slight smile on her lips gave you momentary courage, and you allowed yourself to tell her how you felt. "There's- uh, there's another reason." Wanda looked at you expectantly. "Even though Pietro and I have been friends since kindergarten, you and I have rarely talked or anything. I want to change that," you rushed, pausing to breathe. "I- If you're okay with it, I'd like to take this opportunity to know you better. I know it might be weird since I waited this long to do this, but honestly, I thought you hated me."

Wanda felt taken aback by your confession. "I don't hate you, Y/N," Wanda interrupted with a frown. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know. You just kind of always left or ignored me," you rushed out, embarrassed.

"I wasn't ignoring you, Y/N," Wanda stated earnestly but with a hint of fondness. She indeed loved this flustered version of you. Your stuttering and deep blush made her heart skip. "You and Pietro were always so energetic and doing all these crazy things. I just thought I would be ruining your fun." It was her turn to look down in embarrassment.

"You wouldn't have," you quickly reassured. "Wanda, the amount of trouble Pietro and I could have avoided if you were there," you joked, causing her to laugh. "We can't do anything about the past, only what's ahead of us, so what do you say, Wanda? Friends?"

"Friends," Wanda agreed, sending you a smile that caused your stomach to twist into knots.

"In that case, do you plan on going to the soccer game on Tuesday?" you casually asked before adding, "I know you don't like soccer. I remember you always found a way of being excused when we played soccer during elementary school. Man, you hated P.E., huh? I think the only thing I saw you remotely enjoy was kickball 'cause you were benched most of the time."

"You remember that?" Wanda questioned, astonished you had remembered something like that.

"Yeah, well, you did tell Pietro it was just a bunch of idiots running after a ball." You chuckled. "And you know you're right, but still, If you come," you point to yourself, "this idiot will make it worth your while," you promised, biting your lip expectantly as you watched the brunette girl lower her gaze with a blush.

"And how would you do that?" she challenged, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

You pursed your lips and grabbed your chin, thinking. How about I dedicate every goal I make to you? Does that sound about right?"

You didn't think Wanda's face could be redder than it was, but you were proven wrong as the color intensified at your words. With a nervous chuckle, Wanda stated, "That sounds very self-assured. How do you even know you'll score anything?"

"I firmly believe that anything is possible with the right motivation. So how about it?"

"Alright, I'll be there." She shook her head at your shit-eating grin. "We should actually do some work now."

You left the Maximoff household not long after. You parked your car in your driveway, still smiling like an idiot, thrilled that Wanda had accepted your proposal, though you would have to be sure to score during the game. You remained in the same state, replaying the conversation with Wanda until it dawned on you, the implications of your promise becoming clear.

"Oh, my God! Was I flirting with Wanda?"

You didn't make those types of promises to any girl, right? You were confused because you had never been interested enough in a girl to flirt with them. Now, here you were, flirting with none other than your best friend's sister. You rested your forehead on the steering wheel and took a deep breath, deciding it was a problem to dwell on another day.

The next day, your nervousness from the previous day was replaced by excitement. The only class you could freely talk with Wanda was art, so you decided to take advantage. You made it your mission to make her laugh at your stupid jokes during class. You were lucky that your art teacher didn't care as long as you were doing your work.

Lunch was also different, as Steve, Natasha's boyfriend, joined your group. He and Wanda hit off quickly, bonding over their love for Harry Potter and their incredible art skills; you thought it was adorable.

Then there was Natasha, asking Pietro if he was attending the game, to which he promptly answered, "I wouldn't miss it for anything in the world. What kind of friend would I be." He shook his head in denial at the simple thought.

You raised your eyebrow knowingly, "You sure it has nothing to do with eyeing my teammates?"

He dramatically sighed, raising his hand to his chest, feigning hurt, "Your accusation wounds me, Y/N. When have I ever ditched you for another girl?" He tried to keep a serious expression but eventually burst out in laughter at your incredulous stare. You rolled your eyes as you and Natasha joined him.

"How about you, Wanda?" Natasha interrupted Steve and Wanda after they settled down. "Are you going to the game tomorrow?"

"Oh, please. My sister hates soccer. I'm sure she'd rather stay home reading her romance books."

You bit your lip anxiously. Even though Wanda had agreed to attend the game the night before, you couldn't help but feel insecure about her response. What if she had changed her mind? A soft tap on your leg under the table brought you out of your thoughts. You immediately knew Wanda had sensed your uneasiness, and it was her way of soothing your thoughts.

"Well, you thought wrong. I'll be there." Pietro looked at her suspiciously, resisting the urge to do the same to you. "School spirit." She shrugged, throwing you a discrete mischievous smile that caused you to look down in delight.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The atmosphere buzzed with excitement from the eager spectators, ready to demonstrate their support. The crowd's chatter reached your ears as you warmed up in the field. It was a sound you've learned to love as it pumped you up for the game and motivated you to give it your all. However, on this occasion, it wasn't just the crowd that had you giddy with excitement.

Your eyes wandered to the stands, searching for a certain green-eyed brunette, and you quickly found her sitting next to her twin and Steve in the lower row of the stands. You waved at the three, eyes lingering on Wanda as your coach called your teammates over.

Your teammates huddled with your coach, giving a brief motivational speech before your team got into the 3-4-3 formation; you, Natasha, and Monica Rambeau were the forwards. Natasha, who was also the team captain, walked towards the referee and the captain of the other team, and a quick coin toss determined your team would begin the game.

The whistle blew, and your redhead friend kicked the ball. The first 15 minutes of the game were uneventful, the ball traveling back and forth on the field. Then, you saw an opportunity when you found yourself nearing the goal area. You'd only have to bypass two defenders. Natasha was open to your left. Even though you knew you could easily pass the two girls, you passed the ball to Natasha, who scored the game's first goal. After all, it was a team game, and you reasoned you had enough time to fulfill your promise.

True enough, another chance arose seven minutes later when Monica kicked you the ball. Adrenaline coursed your body, heightening your senses, and your mind raced, assessing the terrain. The crowd's screams increase the closer you run, some in delight, others in protest. You sprinted forward, only slowing down as a defender barreled towards you from the right. You tapped the ball with the side of your right foot in a split second, sending the ball between the girl's legs. You resumed your attack, and in an instant, the ball soared past the goalie's hands into the top right corner of the net. You scored a goal. Not just any goal; it was a goal for Wanda.

You could hear the crowd cheer as Natasha embraced you, but you only cared about Wanda's reaction. You looked at the crowd, seeing Pietro and Steve cheering for you. Contrarily to the two boys, Wanda remained silent, but she had a visible soft smirk on her lips. The intimacy of the act was far more encouraging than the boisterous cheers that surrounded you, and you knew you had to score more.

The first half was almost over, and you found yourself with the ball in the penalty area after a girl charged at you, sending you to the ground. A raging pain surged in your hand and wrist as you landed wrong. You gasped and held your arm to your chest as you continued to lay on the floor. Natasha, Monica, and another teammate, Maria Hill, rushed to check on you.

As players and the referee surrounded you, Wanda observed your unmoving figure from the stands with bated breath. She clasped her hands, anxiety growing in her chest the longer you stayed down. It wasn't until you rolled onto your back and used your left arm to move into a sitting position with Natasha's help that she could breathe.

You could see how you clenched your hand and nodded in assurance as the referee, and you discussed. You finally raised to your feet, using only your left arm for support, which Wanda noticed, as well as keeping your right hand close to your stomach. Despite her worry for you, the game continued as you prepared for a penalty kick.

You inhaled deeply, disregarding the pain in your wrist, and instead concentrated on where to direct the ball. In a swift motion, you once again sent the ball to the end of the net. Euphoria filled your body at your accomplishment. Ready for Wanda's rewarding smile, you turned towards the girl, but she wasn't smiling this time. Instead, the brunette's face is twisted into a frown. You realized she was worried you were hurt as you noticed her eyes lower to your right wrist.

Hoping she could read lips, you muttered, "I'm fine," and smiled at her. You can see her anguish diminished at your reassurance. Next to Wanda, her brother and Steve were too busy celebrating to notice your interaction.

The game resumed for the remaining minutes of the first half before you went on a break. During the next half of the game, the opposing team is reinvigorated and scored on your team. However, it doesn't faze your team because soon after, Monica scores. In the game's last minutes, you scored the final goal with Maria's help, closing the game at 5-2.

A cheerful roar echoed throughout the field at your team's victorious outcome. Natasha wrapped her arms around you in a bone-crushing hug before some of your teammates joined her. You were beyond ecstatic knowing you had scored three goals for Wanda.

You look where they were seated. Pietro fervently shook his sign in the air while Steve gave you both a thumbs up. Then there was Wanda, bashfully smiling at you, uncaring if anyone saw. You wanted to go and boast about your achievement but knew you'd have to wait a moment. Your coach congratulated you, and after you chatted with a few members of the other team, you left to the stands, eager to go to Wanda.

You nearly sprinted when you were finally free. Wanda, Pietro, and Steve stood together at the foot of the stands, waiting for you and Natasha. The moment Pietro realized you were approaching, he began cheering.

"Here they come—the stars of the game!" Pietro exaggerated, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing. "You know, I thought you were joking about being good, but I can admit, I was mistaken."

"Shut up." You pushed him away, rolling your eyes.

"It's true. I enjoyed watching you play. Even Wanda, who hates soccer, did, right sistra?" Pietro wrapped his other arm around his sister, and you waited for her answer.

"Yeah, it was fun," she replied nonchalantly.

"You two were amazing. Though I'm a bit biased when I say you were the best Nat," he praised his girlfriend, and she reached up to kiss him.

"Uhh, gross," you groaned, taking Natasha's hand and pulling her along, "We have to freshen up quickly, okay."

Natasha finishes before you and tells you Steve is waiting to take her home. You took longer examining your hurting wrist and concluded that icing would be enough. By the time you were done, the sun had already begun its descent, casting hues of pink and orange in the sky. You trailed back to where you had left your friends, but as you got closer, you could only see Wanda absentmindedly kicking the grass to distract herself.

"Hey," you greeted, playing with the strap of your bag, unsuccessfully searching for Pietro. However, you appreciated his absence because it allowed you to be alone with Wanda.

"Hey," she responded, tightening her arms around herself to retain heat against the frigid breeze that clashed against her skin.

"Here, put this on," you offered her your soccer hoodie, taking it out of your bag.

"Oh, no. That's not necessary," she rejected your offer, shaking her head in embarrassment at the idea of wearing your hoodie, nonetheless one with your name.

"Come on, Wanda. You're out here freezing because I asked you to my game. It's the least I can do," you insisted, nearly shoving the warm cloth in her arms and dissolving her reluctance.

Wanda slipped into your hoodie, a sigh of contentment falling from her lips at the warmth that enveloped her body. "Thank you."

"No problem." You grinned, loving the sight of her wearing your hoodie. "So, ah, where's Pietro."

"He went after one of your teammates. He said he'd be back, but we both know that's not happening."

"Wow, he's such a dick. He was supposed to be here for me, and not to mention he left you here all alone." you indignantly accused.

Wanda shrugged her shoulders, "I don't mind. He asked if I was fine before he left. Besides, I can walk home. It's not that far."

You scoff, "Absolutely not. I'm driving you home." You grasped her hand, leaving no room for rejection, and led her to your car in the parking lot. You unlocked your car and opened the passenger door for her before taking your place.

You pulled out of the parking lot, glancing at Wanda with a grin. "What did you think about the game? Was it worth it?"

Wanda pursed her lips, thinking, "Hmm, I guess it wasn't that bad. Natasha and Monica were phenomenal," she teased.

You played along, narrowing your eyes, offended, "What do you mean, Natasha and Monica? What about me? I scored three goals for you."

"Mhm, you were decent, I guess," Wanda declared mischievously, causing you to gasp out loud. Then, she burst out in laughter at your dramatics, and you joined her, not resisting the melodic sound. "Okay, I'll admit I'm impressed. I never thought you would be good at anything other than causing trouble."

"Wow, straight to my heart Maximoff. Maybe it's a good thing we weren't friends before because, with how you treat me, I'm sure my self-esteem would be down to the floor."

"Pardon me for not stroking your already enormous ego." You both laughed, and Wanda's eyes fell to your wrist on your lap. Wanda took a serious tone and questioned, "How's your hand? You feel hard on it. Does it still hurt?" She gently grabbed your wrist, examining for any visible harm.

"Uhm, no. I'm fine." She raised an eyebrow unbelievingly, and you playfully rolled your eyes. "Alright, on a scale of 1 to 10, the pain is about a 4. Nothing severe. I'll ice it when I get home, and hopefully, it gets better," you reassured her, pulling into her driveway.

Wanda was still too busy looking at your swollen wrist, and her concern warmed your heart.

"Honestly, thank you for being there today. It means so much to me, and I hope you'll be there for more," you confessed.

"Really?" Wanda questioned lowly, her thumb grazing your wrist.

Your eyes locked on the gentle movement as you answered, "Mhm if you want, I'll keep scoring for you."

She gently sat your hand down. "Then, you'll have to do it for all your games. Are you sure you can keep a promise like that?" Wanda asked, head tilting, making your stomach turn. You were sure you had never seen anything more attractive.

"For you anything," you replied absentmindedly, eyes shooting wide open when you realized what you said. "I-I mean, I don't mind. I'm just that good, you know. I think I proved that well enough today, don't you think? I think I did. Three goals, right? No one else did that," you babbled, wishing the earth would swallow you whole.

"Right," Wanda responded, holding back a smile. "And since you offered so nicely, I'll keep attending your games."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

A comfortable silence settled in the car as your eyes locked with Wanda's forest-green eyes. As you scanned her beautiful orbs, you noticed the gold and blue flecks in them, which further enchanted you. The atmosphere was filled with an unknown tension that caused your heart to race and your body to burn. Your eyes flicker to her lips, and you consider what they'd feel like on your own or if they'd taste as heavenly as her sweet aroma.

You feel a magnetic force propelling you forward, closer to her lips. Any sense of restraint was banished from your mind as you surrendered to the desire that had tormented your thoughts since you saw her at the airport.

Wanda licked her lips in anticipation, charmed by your flirtatious words and attractive looks.

You were mere seconds away from getting your wish when the sound of a closing door pulled you apart. You nervously chuckled while Wanda fidgeted, looking anywhere but at you. The magic surrounding you seconds ago disappeared altogether, leaving behind suffocating awkwardness.

"Thank you for the ride, Y/N. See you later." She forced a smile, clearly uncomfortable, and left the car.

"No problem." You watched her until she entered her home. Then, you banged your head on the headrest with a groan, "Stupid." What the hell were you doing? Were you about to kiss her?

If your feelings for Wanda weren't clear, they indeed were now. You were crazy for her and didn't know what to do. She was your best friend's sister, after all. Maybe you could talk to Pietro?

A million questions ran through your head as you drove home.

[breadvidence]

There's a quite popular Javert post making the rounds that makes me feel roughly this:

, but I'm not going to respond direct to it, because it isn't OP's fault that they are expressing in painfully blatant terms an idea that underlies a great deal of Javert apologia. I don't normally take fandom too serious, and overall the persona I put forward here is very silly, but: it's more than bad literary analysis to accept Javert's concept of the "gutter" (in the musical) or the "Styx" (in the novel) and justify the character's actions based on it. By thinking of his mother, the incarcerated people around him in childhood, and those in poverty as "bad", as people he has to escape or rise above, you are positioning yourself to think of real life human beings as lesser and immoral due to criminalization, housing status, poverty, whatever—and that's an attitude that will inform whether you treat people impacted by those things with respect in face-to-face interaction, how you vote, what laws you support, whether you call the cops because you're scared or unsettled.

You may sympathize or identify with Javert for various reasons—his rigidity, social isolation, trauma over moral certainty being challenged, whatever gets you—and I will find that entirely fair; Hugo made him pathetic and tragic and interesting and we all have our feelings. I will even patiently scroll past arguments for his not being a villain, or ones in which his actions are taken to be forgivable based on "trauma history". I will tolerate, if tiredly, the reading of his morality as being based on something other than "might is right". What troubles me is this (not at all new!) idea that there's a kernel of truth in his vision of society, that there are people who ought to be dead or enslaved or need to be escaped because they have committed crimes, that being around them is a terrible trauma.

[ETA: A reader was gracious enough to reach out and provide some education on how my initial wording for the "punchline" of the post was ableist. Removed.]

[necroangelz]

RARE EDITBLR SHOCKING HOT TAKES THAT WILL SHOCKINGLY SHOCK YOU!!!!!

following trends and doing what's popular is okay because it allows people to gain interactions and a bigger following by doing what's popular!! and it's also okay because trends are usually what people like, so it makes sense if someone genuinely enjoys following a trend!! people can branch out, do their own thing, and find their own style later!

actively expressing positivity, and helping or encouraging each other is what will help a community. making big rant posts, or rant accounts centered around negativity, without offering even a simple solution to fix the problems you're calling out, is not helping!!

(the other ones are under the cut. also feel free to reblog with editblr hot takes that will shockingly shock you!!)

sometimes things just... aren't a big deal. sometimes it genuinely does not matter

another person's personal business, creative decisions, etc. is not your business!

if you see someone who's not really educated on a certain topic or issue (and i mean, genuinely not educated. i don't mean people who are ignorant), the best move to take is to: patiently and kindly educate them! the worst move to take is to: yell at them and cancel them for not being as informed as you are.

people need to be careful with the words they throw around. it's not good to overuse words that have a very big weight on them, because those are important and sensitive words that shouldnt lose their meaning because people kept using them lightly. (what i mean is: people who throw around the words racist, ableist, etc. all the time even when what they're complaining about is not really either of those things.)

on the topic of words: it's important to be careful of the words you use online, and it's also important to be patient with people who worded their statements badly on accident.

don't treat every person like they're your friend. be aware of their boundaries and don't be overly comfortable with them if you don't actually know them. you are not automatically entitled to someone (or their personal business, or anything else) just because you're mutuals.

don't treat every person like they're your enemy. maybe you don't really need to be doubtful and passive aggressive towards a random person you see online.

gatekeeping kinda sucks tbh

god sometimes i find editblr so stupid like how do you create so much drama from a community that edits anime characters. how just HOW. and why.

please don't forget the other people behind the screen. the network of other people behind their screens. please.

sometimes people take the littlest problems and turn them into something HUGE even if it could all just be solved by a couple of civil conversations in dms. sometimes people take the littlest things and slap the "PROBLEMATIC!!!!!!!" label on it without even trying to understand what it is they're labeling as "PROBLEMATIC!!!"

people get followers then their ego becomes so high and they treat other people like dirt and think that their word is fucking scripture or something

oh yeah another hot take: i don't really like low contrast cluttered maximalist edits but if it's actually someone's style then I'll let it pass especially if it's good /silly

[shegatsby]

Could I possibly request a fic where Hannibal has reader hidden away in a secret room. Like he keeps her there in her own world kinda like a princess in a tower situation. He keeps her there so she’s safe and doesn’t know what he does. She’s actually pretty happy with the situation because she loves him he loves her yadayada and possible smut MAYBE Will gets to meet her🤭 idk I’m new to requesting also I love your stuff man 10/10

Your day started just like the day before but this time you had a dream. It was about the night he brought you here. You were his patient, had a troubled upbringing with drug addict parents, your earliest memory was sitting on a couch, starving, and watching your parents with needles… you were taken to custody but it was too late. You were scarred for life. You focused on your education till one day you snapped and had to find a psychiatrist.

Doctor Hannibal Lecter

You had read his reviews, whatever you could find about him on the Imternet.

You walked to the luxurious bathroom, your mind clouded with the memories of your first session with him.

It was spring and you wore a milkmaid dress. Since his upstanding reputation you wanted to look “sane” and “presentable”

Wiping your palms on your dress you knocked on the grey door, you had noticed the absence of a secretary but didn’t pay much mind. And he opened the door…

You were awe struck to say the least. He easily standing there in his 3 piece suit, clean shaven and inviting you with his dark maroon eyes. “Hello Ms.Y/LN. Please come in.” You smiled gently and entered. He had 2 stores in the office, at the top there was a balcony which looked like a library, books were wall to wall. Down stairs he had a brown desk with organized materials on it, a fire place, paintings on the walls. He gestured you to sit and he sat across you with his black leather notebook. He cleared his throat and crossed his legs, even though he was sitting he still spoke tall. “I must admit,” he began and caught your attention, you found yourself sitting up tall, matching his aura, “ Ms. Y/L/N, you had sent me a very interesting email.” In order for him to accept a client one must sent an email which he replies in 3 days. “How come?”

He looked into your eyes, yes there was space between you two but you could feel his intensity. “You were straightforward, it almost felt as if you wanted to show me how bad your situation is, so that I’ll reject you. Do you often show your bad side for others to rum away, thus, you don’t have to interact with them?”

His questioning made you drop your jaw, this was his deduction from just the email? You wondered if you should continue and expose yourself to him and also face your fears or just get up and leave.

Hannibal noticed the hesitation in your eyes, he put the book away and did something which left you speechless. There was a cabinet on the wall behind him, he opened it and got a bottle of red wine and 2 glasses. He poured one for you and and extended his hand, “No need to fret Ms. Y/L/N,” you got the glass and felt his touch, “after all, I’m here to serve you.” His tone was less formal than before.

And your story began with him, at first you had your session with him once a month, and office hours turned into coffee dates and dinners.

You used to live alone in a one bedroom flat with yur cat Lucifer, he was a huge black cat thus the name Lucifer came.

One night you were out with your pyschiatrist Doctor Lecter. He invited you out for dinner and to be honest he showed off his wealth and refined palate. You found youself admiring his life style, luxurious yet elegant like the royals. He wasn't shy of showing it to you or making you experience it first hand.

The night was amazing, you were like two normal adults having a nice dinner, both of you lost the titles of doctor and patient and enjoyed each other's company, he drove you home and everything happened that night.

''Did you leave your lights on?'' he mentined the yellow lights coming from your flat, ''No.'' an icy feeling entered your chest, ''I'll come with you to check it, stay behind me.'' he said, his protective side showing, you did as he told you and together you rode the elevator and came to your door which was wide open.

Tears filled your eyes when you saw your home, everything was torn and broken, someone came in and did an arduous damage. Hannibal checked to see if someone was still inside. It was empty, ''Where is your cat?'' and with the mention of Lucifer your hands went to your chest and you started calling for Lucifer, you found him hiding, he was shivering.

''I'm also working with FBI, I know people who can help. In the mean time you're staying with me.'' it wasn't a question or a request, he meant what he said.

''O-okay.'' you were shivering. You picked up Lucifer and you felt Hannibal's hand on the small of your bag, ''Let's get you to the car, and I'll call my friends Will and Jack.''

He got you inside the car and left to make a call and the rest was history.

His house felt like a museum at first but it grew on you over your stay. He gave you the guest bedroom which was bigger than your own, he also went out of his way to collect your precious belongings from your robbed house. It wasn't much just a small bag, Lucifer was the most important to you. Hannibal also liked animals and didn't sany anything about your cat, in fact they got along.

After a week you started to look for a new place to stay, you were having breakfast together, ''What are you doing?'' he asked as he poured you coffee, ''House hunting.'' you replied shortly and saw him dropp the spoon he was holding, this was the first time he lost his composure and he cursed himself, ''Clumsy today.'' he joked and continued, ''You shouldn't rush. I am happy to have you, in my home.''

You looked up to meet his maroon eyes, ''Thank you for everything Hannibal but I don't want to be a burden.'' as your therapist he already knew how you felt. His mission was to convince you to stay. Manipulate you even...

Together you went on house huntings, he was there all the time. After every house he would find something bad about it, neighboors, mold, too pricy etc.

One night you were watching a movie together, it was an old Hollywood classic. ''Don't leave.'' you heard him and turned to face him, he was sitting next to you, his arm on your shoulders, ''What?''

You were startled, ''I don't want you to go.'' he puased the movie, his eyes pleading, ''that night when you house was broken into, I swore to protect you and never let you out of my sight.'' he held your hands, ''Its dangerous outside Y/N, I cannot let you go.''

His tone sent shivers down your spine, he was serious. ''Do you want me to-'' he cut you off, ''Be mine.''

and he leaned in for a passionate kiss.

Since then you were with him, he took care of every detail and let you thrive and pursue your passions such as writing and painting. He was a possessive man and never liked to see your attention go to someone else that's why he introduced you to only one person,

Will Graham. His colleague and friend.

Thank you for reading. :)

[ask-johnward]

Main post!!

Blog runned by @hanksmc

Art blog mostly! but text time to time.

John may will be more silly than the og (if is that even possible /jk), a lot of headcanons but trying to keep his escence.

Other blogs are free to interact!

Rules!!

This is a holy ask, please no NSFW (Jokes are fine but pray for the educated man)

No M!As

Be patient please and enjoy

“In the world, you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” -John 16:33