#That's a shit handout if I'm honest.

[alligatorjesie]

Well that's a take.

wha- @watchingtheearthrise

Are you… defending Antis, as the name implies people who are negatively against a thing, because they’re ‘not as privileged’ as... reylos?

For fucking real?

Do you think reylos are born with silver spoons in their mouths? Do you think we have some kind of societal leg up because we like a fucking ship?

It's not because we're overwhelmingly white that's for fucking sure, because I already covered that conversation

Twice now

with charts and everything

since some people here can't fucking read.

How, God fucking bless us all, do you type all that out with zero awareness?

Can you not put 2 and 2 together to figure out why people who passionately love things have more love in their lives as a whole? Is that wisdom lost to you?

Fortune and privilege have Absofuckinglutly Nothing to do with fandom and how passionately you as a individual interact with it.

You're so fucking close, I swear to fucking God. If I had a soul you'd be crushing it.

Here you are, taking Your sweet precious time, time You'll never get back in your life, time You'll look back on unfondly because you're about to get your ass chewed straight fucking through, time out of Your day to make this post defending people who passionately hate things and how they might have it worse than someone else, unaware the reason that group might have things worse is because they Actively Choose To Hate Things And Make It Other People's Problem.

Well I don't fucking know brah, maybe when you're not a fucking needless cockwaffle to people good things are more likely to happen to you?

And you know what? Yeah. Bad things do happen to good people. But shitty things happen to shitty people more. You can live your life being a fucking asshole because you'd mad about X or Y or whatever the fuck, or you can take all that energy you were going to spend on hating something and instead pick literally anything else to put it into. You seem like you like Finnrey? Have you perhaps considered taking all that time you spent being an anti reyo and instead putting it back into your own fandom? I assure you with every ounce of blood running through my slow beating reptilian heart,

The reylos will not fucking stop you.

If you’re disadvantaged because you hate a fucking ship, that’s on you mate.

Last time I checked it takes zero effort to not be a prick to people minding their own goddamn shit in their own fucking spaces and it’s you taking time out of your day to be mindless cunt to those people who had the misfortune of noticing a canon ship as loudly broadcasted as REYLO was in the new Star Wars movies as if The Last Jedi which might as well be called ‘Reylo, the goddamn movie’ isn't a whole ass movie in this trilogy.

Rey and Ben sit in a hut and talk about their feelings in front of each other then hold hands. Did she do that with Finn? No?

Well that sucks. Go draw some fanart and fix it. Go write some fanfiction where Kylo Ren's asshole explodes through his mouth and Rey and Finn fuck on his bloodied corpse. Whatever makes you fucking happy man. Why the fuck are you in the anti reylo tag about it? The antis ain't gonna help you with this problem that's for fucking sure. We get it. You don't like Ben, but you know something? If I had any anti-Finn content- Not that I do because I'm not a fucking asshole and actually like Finn as a character quite a bit, most reylos do or else he wouldn't so regularly be featured as a predominate character in most reylo fanfictions -I wouldn't post it to the anti-Finnrey tag. You know... I'll be honest I don't see reylos posting in anti-finnrey spaces, isn't that fucking weird to you? Is that even a thing? Gimme a second.

Uhh no in fact all of the top posts are in fact anti reylos, the few reylos who do show up in the listing is me talking about how finnreys sure like to harass reylos and one other person who posted twice to the tag to comment on how they get harassed by finnreys a lot. Guys I'm fuckin' buggin' here.

No. I’m not going to consider the feelings of the group of people who this this kind of harassment is allfuckingright:

All of these posts were gathered in only 2 days after that ghost guy dropped that bombshell that he *gasps!* liked reylo.

Not to mention that absolute plethora of antis who have been harassing members of this fandom constantly and consistently for the past 7 years.

I don't know much but I feel like that takes a lot of time and effort.

Like this one who has been at it since 2016.

Or this one who has been harassing members of this fandom since 2018.

Or this one who has an alarming 260 posts dedicated to being an anti reylo, someone who I can only assume has way more fucking time on their hands than I or you or anyone else in this fandom does that's for fucking sure and has been doing this horseshit since 20motherfucking17.

Or this sock filled with crusted jizz who has been at it since 2018 and thinks it's alright to mock artist and likes to send death threats.

Real fuckin' classy.

Speaking of death threats!

I've never told anyone to go fucking die because they like a fictional ship.

That's very fucked up.

If anyone here has more time than they know what to fucking do it with it's antis who not only think it's perfectly normal to spend this amount of time and effort on something they hate but can't fucking help but insert themselves into a space they don't fucking belong in to start with.

And were the fuck do you get off?

Bitch, do you fucking think I sit on my ass 24/7 and dedicate all my increasingly little spare time to a fucking fandom? Do you think I have literally nothing better to do in my day than to dedicate it fandom shit? Goddamn do I fucking wish. Honestly in the making of this post I came to realize how little time I’m actually able to set aside for this one guilty pleasure but I can’t scroll through my own fucking tag for one single day without seeing one or two of you chucklefucks posting in a tag you don’t belong or even want to be in to ‘own the libs’ or whatever the fuck your aim here is.

Reylos come in all shapes and sizes and ages, most of us being around 20 which means the vast majority are in school AND working jobs WHILE ALSO writing fanfiction so fucking steamy it’d make a sailor blush on top of working their asses off to stay afloat in this capitalistic hellscape we all live in.

Antis who go to school and work jobs ain't fucking special mate. Do you think reylos don't do anything else all day but daydream about Ben Solo banging Rey? Bitch, we go to school just like everyone else. We got jobs like everyone else. We have families we spend our time with. We live our lives as completely and happily as we can just enjoying a ship/fandom and astoundingly we do it without being a hateful fuck to people in other fandoms, ain't that fuckin' wild?

All it takes is not interacting with the fandom you don't like.

It ain't that fucking hard.

My heart don’t fucking bleed over the anti who’s on hard times. You don’t have my fucking sympathy when you made the decision to be an asshole.

I know a lot of real people who have it a lot worse then the antis who are just mad their ship isn't fucking canon and those real people bitch a lot less.

Do you think the reylos were immune to the pandemic? Do you think we live on a fucking island far away from all the regular troubles of a normal world? We were affected by this shit too. Antis ain’t singularly suffering do to pandemic issues, we all are you daffy fuck.

Aww, you had to work during the pandemic? Well bitch, so did I. I've been working since I was 16. Some jobs I fucking hated and I left them for jobs I didn't hate so much.

Motherfucker, I work for a Dildo Company. Do you even fully understand just how busy shit got for us when lockdown started? All these horny people who were banging lots of people every week were suddenly Not and I can tell you right now they filled that void with dildos.

You've been busy the past 2 years? Congrats.

So has everyone else. The world is melting around us. Eggs cost 10 dollars a dozen. Rent in most places in the US is 1,000 dollars a month. Everything sucks and, you know, we try to make it suck a little less by not actively being assholes to strangers on the internet.

I know at least five reylos in my personal bubble who are married with children. How much goddamn time do you think they have to set aside for the hobby they love between raising kids during a pandemic while also working a full time job because we live in a world where a single person working can't afford rent, much less a house?

And wouldn't you fucking know it? They manage all of that without being absolute douche canoes to people in fandom because instead of hating shit they choose to love things.

Reylos out here doing God’s fucking work and dedicating what I can only assume is also minimal time into what is probably only one of their many hobbies while also managing to put their whole fucking pussies into the fandom they choose. These artists out here making fanfiction, fanart, metas, being betas for fic writers, commenting on fics they like, affirming fellow content creators, podcasts, merch, or doing as little as just talking about the fandom they love here on dumblr dot com in the fucking tag they belong in.

You don't need to spend money to enjoy fandom, you do understand that right? There is a plethora of way to enjoy fandom without spending a dime. You know what?

I'll show you real quick just how easy it is to be a active member of a fandom with minimal time and zero money.

This is a reylo fic by the writer secretreylotrash called 'The Trail Bride' It's a western/Oregon trail AU and the smut in it is just Top Fucking Tier.

God Fucking Bless This Author.

It's actually on my re-read list after I clear out a few other fics with shorter chapter counts.

There. Took me 2 minutes, didn't cost a fucking thing, and I've already done more good for my fandom than you being an anti has ever fucking accomplished in the past 7 years of your life.

I am hardly fucking privileged. I work hard at my job to afford the thing I have and what I have is by no fucking means ‘nice and new’. Making dicks is fulfilling work (huehue) but not the highest paying work.

I am not a stranger to flee markets and secondhand stores.

I’ve never owned a new couch.

I grow a garden in the summer to keep food costs down. I forage around my neighborhood for free food (chickweed is fucking delicious. Last year we found a puffball growing in a neighbor’s yard and made puffball parmesan with it. Ate off that for 3 days.) and free shit in people’s trashcans.

The flooring in my house is currently wood particle board because we haven't been able to afford new flooring since we moved in 2 years ago. When shit breaks around here, I fucking fix it because I can’t afford to pay someone else to do it that’s for goddamn sure. I learned from youtube how to do plumbing because when we first moved into our house there was a horrible leak the last owner just never fucking bothered to fix so now I’m also going to have to learn a little carpentry to fix the damage it did. I have 2 cars and both of them are over 20 years old and I’m the person who keeps them running because I’ve been ripped off by different mechanics in this town one too many times and now I just don’t trust anyone but myself to work on them.

I work a full time job five days a week.

Not even 9 to 5, more often 9 to 6:30/7 if your time management is shit (mine is) as once you get a pour going you’re at the whims of the Silicone Gods because fun fact about silicone; The moment you add part B into liquid silicone you got about an hour to get that shit mixed, degassed, and poured into whatever dick shaped object you got planned or else you’re going to end up with 230 ounces of quickly hardening product that will soon become so unworkable you’ll have no choice but to throw it out, and platinum grade silicone ain’t fucking cheap. Once silicone is cured, that’s it. You can’t uncure it and start again. It can get nerve racking and it takes months to figure out how to pour it right, years to learn how to pour it well.

Some of the toys we offer, just the one dildo, is 8 pounds of material or more. Wet silicone has the consistency of room temp honey, it's not easy to mix and you have to mix it fully or it won't cure correctly.

And don't get me started on that math! We offer 3 types of firmness and all three requires a different math formula, not to mention the pigment math which is entirely different and very small and precise.

You need to understand at least basic color theory to do the pigments correctly in this job. It is a physically and mentally demanding job.

Another fun fact about silicone, it will destroy your clothes. If you get so much as a drop on clothing you can just enjoy your forever stain now because that shit ain’t ever coming out. You don’t know how many shirts and pants I’ve lost to the Silicone Gods.

Clothing I have to pay for.

But despite all that, I am very dedicated to my job. If I removed all my other numerous hobbies and just focused on the job that pays for my food, house, and transportation you would be fucking shocked by how much XP I’ve banked into it.

Here, lemme show you something I’m really proud of. Now I did have to crop it because I’m not going to lie, it’s a dick, but this is my job and this is what I do. And I’m fucking good at it.

This was a commission by a customer based on this piece of delftware:

This motherfucker took me Two Whole Goddamn Days to finish. And not regular 9 to 6:30 days either, I had to stay late to finish this beautiful little fuck so in reality those two days were more like 9 to 8.

Another fun fact, the mold I was painting into was almost this same exact shade of blue. This was a very hard project but goddamnit if the work don’t speak for itself. And this toy wouldn’t look this fucking good if it wasn’t for the incredible amount of time and effort I’ve put into learning how to do this shit.

Painting silicone is hard, so hard there isn’t many other creators out there who do it because your odds of fuckups (air bubbles, delamination, whatever you painted simply not curing, etc) is astronomically high Unless you know what you’re doing.

I’ve painted so many toys. One time I painted a double ended horse dick up with galaxies all over it, it was fucking stunning. I’ve done the Arizona tea can a few times now. Some years ago I did a ‘fruit set’ where I hand painted a bunch of different toys up like pineapples, kiwi, dragon fruit, watermelons, stawberries, just a whole bunch of them and they sold out instantly. These days every orca coming out of our shop is hand painted by me personally.

And that isn’t even to fucking say shit about my other hobbies.

My first love; art. I love to draw. I’ll draw anything that involves an alligator, memes, or reylo. I’ve been drawing since I was a child and while I’m by no means the best at it, I ain’t half bad. You can tell what I’m drawing is and that’s all we can ask for. Honestly being in the reylo community has helped my art out a ton. I mean look at this improvement from just 2018 to 2022!

I know you don’t give a single fuck about reylo but this is a marked improvement over such a short period of time and I have this fandom to thank for that.

I will carry this improvement to other arts. Everything I learn at this cornerstone informs every single other skill I learn. If I didn't care about it so much I wouldn't work so hard to do better at it. Who the fuck are you to judge the media I choose to get there?

Now onto my second love; carving. I can carve anything. Bone, horn, wood, stone, glass, terricatta, ceramic, fuckit man you name it I can carve it. I’ve been doing this since I was a teenager using just the most absolute shit quality 50 dollar harbor freight flexshaft dremel that would get so fucking hot after an hour of use I had to wear mechanic gloves just to hold the hand bit. And that’s what I learned on, sitting out in a freezing garage in the dead of winter while my toes froze off and my hand burns to numb because I just wanted to put a few more hours into that fucking sweet raccoon skull I’ve been working on for the past 3 years.

And my third passion; plants.

I have so many fucking plants that most of my evenings after work are spent dealing with all these verdant assholes. Allow me to show you just the very few I have in my collection:

And this ain’t all of them. I have more outside and yet still more at work. My summer is so full of just taking care of plants that honestly it’s shocking I even find time for fandom. These adorable little fucks bring me so much joy though and the effort shows. They’re all so productive I’ve been able to make a little side money by buying cheapo bowls and pots from Goodwill, popping a few weep holes into them with the dremel, and selling them at the local farmer’s market. They’re cute as fuck yo.

I’m an avid knitter. I regularly knit on the way to and from work and give the hats and gloves away to family and friends as I finish them.

I love to braid these little glass vases that you can put a plant into and hang from your window, they’re a ton of fun to make, they reuse jars that would otherwise get thrown away, and they’re beautiful to boot.

I can sew and regularly mend mine and other people’s clothing on my machine which was a hand-me-down from my mother. She kept the nice one.

I love to cook and bake treats for everyone at work to enjoy.

I can do embroidery, needle felting, woodworking, car maintenance, house maintenance, sculpting, fictional writing, and wouldn't you fucking know it?

I can do all of these things without being a heartless fuck to other people in fandoms.

And on top of all this shit that keeps my life so full, I have a loving partner who cares about all of these interests to the point he happily feeds into them. He genuinely loves me and I genuinely love him. I spend probably the most time out of my day with him since we work and live together. Either we’re hanging out at work or on the couch after we’ve finished dinner to watch a movie or youtube or chilling in the bedroom while he reads to me as I draw on him or we have sex sex.

Mmm, the sex.

He is patient and kind and I couldn’t ask for a better person to spend my days with and I hope beyond hope I'm able to spend many more with him.

And after that, only after all of that other shit along with a few extra hobbies I just didn't feel the need to add to this already lengthy post, does reylo take a priority in my life. So little of my time and effort is even spent on this one thing that brings me such intense joy that it makes me kinda sad I don’t have more free time to dedicate to it.

I am going to judge antis and do so very openly because if you feel like antis, people who harass and threaten other people for just being in a fucking fandom, have it tough?

I fucking hope they do.

I hope their lives are long and filled to the fucking brim with distress and heartache. I have so many hobbies and interests and loves in my life that someone dedicating the fleeting time they have in this wonderful world filled with things begging to be explored and loved chooses instead to make people feel bad for enjoying romance and community and art can just go live the worst fucking lives for all the fucks I don’t give.

Maybe if they spent a little less time being hateful fucks they wouldn’t have it so tough.

Karma is a bitch you know.

Cheers.

Now get the fuck outta the tag.

[oro-e-diamanti]

Puppet Masterlist | Puppet Taglist | Buy me a coffee?

There's work to be done. And people to be distracted by.

Content: Smut

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: Shoutout to my dearest @till-you-scream-and-cry for helping me out with this chapter and providing the best ideas and inspiration!

Lesson Ten: Tie him down.

Vic had been talking for a whole ten minutes and to be quite honest, you hadn't been listening to the past nine of them. The main thing had reached you though: Not only had she shown the guys your sketch of Thomas, but apparently their styling team as well. And they wanted the blouse. The one you had drawn, for real. Call it a trial run, Vic had said. This could be amazing. She hadn't even caught her breath before continuing to go on and on about future possibilities, more ideas, what doors this might open for you, but all your head could do was spin with the amount of unexpected information it was receiving.

"Vic... Vic."

It didn't help. You weren't even sure she had noticed you react at all as she continued rambling.

"Victoria!"

This did the trick. Like a deer caught in the headlights, she stopped dead in her tracks. Looking up at her from your seat on the couch you made sure you had her full attention before continuing to speak.

"I never gave you permission to share that sketch, or any other, with anyone but the guys."

She looked crestfallen, almost comically so, immediately. She suddenly appeared to be nothing more than a little child getting scolded for something she knew she would get in trouble for. Her eyes darted around the room as she slowly lowered herself onto the cushions next to you.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't even... I didn't even think about that. And you're right, of course you fucking are, oh god. I got so caught up in the excitement, we all loved your sketch so much, and..." She never finished her sentence.

"I don't want any handouts," you explained. "I want to make it on my own. Not because I happen to have some famous friends who put in a good word for me. That's never going to get me anywhere. Plus, I'm nowhere near good enough, it would be ridiculous, I would... No."

While the first part of your statement brought out apologetic puppy dog eyes in Victoria, the latter half her jump up in disagreement, as if taken violently by a change of heart. Hands on her hips, she stared down at you with a stern look.

"Now, that's nothing but a damn lie. You're ridiculously talented and more than good enough. Did you or did you not get accepted by a major university to study fashion design? And those sketches, the skirt you made, I know a thing or two about fashion so don't think you can fool me on that one. And this - us basically recommending a designer to our styling team who wouldn't give a single shit if they weren't actually any good - isn't a handout in any shape or form. Okay, maybe the sewing machine ist, but that was necessary."

"The what-"

"Like, do you even know how high the standard is? They wouldn't just ask anyone for a design. And believe me, we get a lot of ideas sent in by fans. A lot. This one is amazing and so are you and if you don't take this chance, you'll never forgive yourself. I know you well enough to know that."

You wanted to be mad, you wanted to be disappointed, you wanted to tell her no, but deep down you knew she was annoyingly right. And she hadn't meant any harm, you never would have assumed so either way. If anything, she had been looking out for you. It hadn't necessarily been the right way to go on about it, but it was done and there was a challenge lingering that you would have had to be crazy to pass up on.

They wouldn't want your designs because of pity just because you were their friend. You hadn't even asked or put them in an awkward position of not knowing how to say no. In fact, you had taken active measures to hide your sketches and sewings from them up until a few days ago. This had been all Vic and her genuine excitement about your work. There was no reason for either the band or the styling team to ask you for any reason but that you were actually good at what you did. Maybe it was time to internalise it.

With a deep sigh, you looked back at Vic, almost unaware your focus had drifted as you'd gone through all the possibilities in your head.

"Fine. I'll try. But if it goes wrong that's on you, yeah?"

You weren't sure she even heard the latter part of what you were saying as she was already halfway out of the room calling for her bandmates.

***

You had told Thomas about five times that he wasn't necessarily needed for this part, yet there he was, perched up on the sun lounger next to you, posing in ridiculous ways in quick succession as you tried to keep your laughter at bay. You needed a few more sketches of your idea - the one Victoria had seen had barely been more than an artistic drawing, now you needed a detailed view so you could get to actually sewing it. But as soon as Thomas had heard about your plans to get the sketches done out in the garden, enjoying a light summer breeze in the shade, he had insisted on following you. As your muse, he had said. You weren't quite sure if he was inspiring or merely distracting you at this point.

You looked up from your sketching for just a second, which proved to be a fatal mistake as Thomas was currently in the middle of shifting positions, lying stretched out on the lounger next to you, shirt having disappeared somewhere, arms over his head in a suggestive pose.

"If you ask me to draw me like one of my French girls you'll never get your blouse."

Thomas pouted as he put his arms back down. "Draw me like one of your Italian men then?"

"I already am," you giggled. You put your pencil down as you looked at him. "Come on, I can finish this later, but I can take your measurements now so I don't keep you to myself for the whole day."

You both wordlessly got up but he caught up with you much quicker than expected, his body slightly colliding with yours as you walked in front of him.

"You can keep me to yourself as much as you want to," he mumbled into your ear, a soft hand on your back and you weren't sure which of those actions caused the shivers to run down your spine but it might as well have been both.

***

The sewing machine throned on the desk in your room. You still couldn't believe they had actually acquired one for you, and a damn good one as well. It was much better than the one you had at home for sure. You had done a few test runs, just to get used to it, and you already felt like it made your work so much better. You wouldn't say it out loud, but you were actually quite excited to find out how your next project would come along with this miracle worker by your side.

"How do you need me then?" Thomas pulled you out of your thoughts. You grabbed the measuring tape as you motioned for him to come closer. There was no hurry in your hands as you wrapped the band around him, his chest, his waist, his hips, taking care and time in between gentle touches. He held the tape for you every time you turned back around to jot down the measurements you needed. You didn't pay much attention to him, any more than the fact that he was a body that needed to be broken down into numbers. Or at least that was what you tried.

It was impossible to ignore the way his skin felt underneath your fingers. The warmth radiating off his body, and the way his hair tickled your fingertips as you overlapped the tape to read the measurement. You didn't miss the way his breathing quickened when you touched his chest, almost accidentally grazing his nipples, but maybe not quite. He was being a perfect model, not resisting any of your movements, happily letting you turn him whichever way you needed. But in comparison to other models you had measured, it didn't give you a sense of calmness. Instead, your brain whirled with thoughts of a different kind, of manipulating him to your needs and desires, of him being nothing but putty in your hands.

You had to remind him not to crouch as you measured his shoulder, then his arm. You almost told him you were all done before you realised you needed another number. The blouse was supposed to have sleeves, wide and airy, but be cuffed at the wrist. You took his hand in yours, once again briefly stopping to take in his long and slender fingers, something you could never get enough of as it was. You wrapped the measuring tape around his wrist, pulling it a little tighter than necessary and-

He gasped.

Your eyes were drawn to him immediately, only to be greeted with his own as he stared down at you, intense, darker than usual. There was no question about what state he was currently in. Holding the eye contact, you pulled at the tape once again, enough to have an impact, not enough for the material to painfully cut into his flesh. This time it was a full moan. There was no shame in his noise, no attempt to hold it back as you looked at each other.

"You like being tied up?" Your voice was merely more than a whisper, but the room was quiet enough for him to hear. He didn't answer with words. His free hand grabbed onto your hip to pull you in, your body colliding with his. He didn't need to answer with words. Not with the way he was pressing into you now, the unmistakable bulge between his legs awakening your whole body at once. "I guess that's a yes."

Still holding him close, his wrist bound, you walked him backward, waiting for his legs to hit the bed. He dropped down onto it easily, doe eyes looking up at you, patiently awaiting your next move. You hesitated for a second, suddenly acutely aware that you didn't have anything to actually tie him up with - the measuring tape was much too harsh, and you hadn't exactly stocked up on equipment. Your worries evaporated when your eyes fell on the bathrobe hanging behind your door. Perfect.

You had untangled the belt in mere seconds, a dangerous glimmer in your eyes as you turned back to Thomas. If anything, the prospect of what this meant had him breathing even harder. He had leaned back on his elbows, chest heaving, hair already looking more tangled than before for no apparent reason. You dropped the belt next to him as you dropped to your knees. His trousers were way too tight and getting them off was a challenge in itself, but the way he looked at you, sitting right between his legs, the desire apparent in his whole face, was enough for you. It didn't take long to get him fully naked, both of you too eager to have any sort of patience. His hands reached for yours, but you swatted them away. He wasn't going to be in charge.

He easily obeyed as you motioned for him to shuffle further back onto the bed and you didn't miss a second before straddling his waist, too high up to touch anything that would make him nervous. Quickly grabbing the belt again, you took hold of one of his hands, leading it up to your lips to leave a fleeting kiss on the knuckles, before pulling it over his head until it hit the headboard. You repeated the action with the other hand.

"I don't..." You looked at his hands above his head, perfectly in position without any further encouragement, and the thin fabric in your own hand. "I don't actually know how to properly do this, like, without making it too loose or too tight..." You traced his wrists, delicate skin under your fingertips. "I don't want to hurt you."

Thomas looked up at you with an expression full of love and submissive desire for you.

"I'm sure-" He let out an awkward cough as his voice broke, quickly composing himself again. "I'm sure the others will teach you. For now just..." His eyes darted back and forth along your face before finally settling on your own. "Don't make it too tight. I'll be a good boy for you either way."

You hadn't played much with the idea of having someone submit to you in bed, much too convinced that your inexperience and a certain shyness that you were still in the middle of a war with would stop you from assuming this position. But now Thomas was lying underneath you, naked and ready for the taking, pleading eyes staring into yours, hands begging to be bound. His words did the rest. A tingling feeling spread through your body, a wave of sexual arousal quite different from that you had experienced with the others. It wasn't better or worse in any shape or form, just... different. And you needed to explore more of it.

You made quick work of tying up his wrists, much too lose to have any impact if he actually tried to free himself, but you successfully hid your shaking hands, and the whine he let out as you gave the belt an experimental tug was more than enough for you. Running your hands over his arms, watching as you left goosebumps, you patiently made your way down to his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his cheeks, caressing his skin on your journey along his body. He was much less patient. He was trying, so hard, to stay still for you, simply take what you were giving him and not beg for more, but you could feel him trembling underneath you, legs kicking out slightly in frustration, pupils dilating in arousal.

When you leaned down to put your lips on his, finally kiss him, he moaned into your mouth. You grabbed onto his chin, easily manipulating him to open up. It was ridiculous how easy it was with him, how willing and eager he was to please and let you have your way. The rush of confidence went to your head in the nicest way possible.

You only allowed him to taste you for another moment before you broke away, not just from his kiss, but from his whole body as you shuffled away and got back onto your feet. His eyes were glued to you, but he remained in the exact position you left him in. Where you had felt shy or clumsy before, the gaze on you now gave you nothing but a burning fire and a lack of care for anything else. He followed your hands as they softly ran down your own body, past the fabric of your summer dress, until they took hold of the hem. He watched as you pulled it up much more slowly than you wanted to, but the need to tease him was bigger. He had seen you naked before, but revealing yourself to him in like this felt intimate in a new way.

The dress lifted, revealing your thighs. Then your panties, too dark for him to notice the stain of wetness that had appeared on them. His cock, hardening further by the second, twitched at the sight anyway. Then your tummy. The soft skin leading up to your chest. Your bra, black and lacy, much too fancy for a regular day. You wondered if you had known something would happen, or if you had simply been hopeful. You briefly lost sight of him as you pulled the dress over your head, dropping it onto the floor next to you. Your bra followed swiftly, before you bent down, trying hard to appear more sexy than clumsy, to remove your panties. Judging by the look in his eyes and the throbbing dick standing proud, you seemed to succeed.

He looked like a damn painting if someone were to ask you. All spread out on your bed, hands tied, soft white skin on soft white bed covers, leaking with precum already, a harsh rhythm of breathing rattling his ribcage. It was a sight you wanted to commit to memory for the rest of your life. Your heart was pounding, with excitement, arousal, and love.

Never quite losing focus on him, you climbed back onto the bed and over his body, straddling his hips this time, dangerously close to touching the exact place he was so obviously craving, but holding yourself up just enough to keep the distance. You were much more affected than you let on. In fact, you were sure that if you were to keep this position up any longer, looking at his gorgeous face, half-lidded eyes, messy hair, mouth falling open, you'd start dripping on him.

You let your hands wander over your body, starting at your shoulders, trailing down your breasts, over your stomach and tummy, slowing down teasingly as you went further, amused by the way Thomas' eyes were glued to your movements. Your own teasing was getting too much for you, so you let your fingers disappear between your spread thighs, softly touching your folds before diving between them. The moan you let out at the amount of wetness your found seemed to echo in the room. You brushed past your clit ever so slightly, going on to circling your hole, not quite giving you any of the satisfaction you craved. Thomas moved beneath you, hips angling upward in a desperate attempt to gain some friction.

"Well, you're not being a very good boy right now."

The words were out of your mouth before you realised what you were saying. A blush settled on your cheeks immediately, surprised at your own actions, but he simply moaned pathetically and stilled.

"I'm sorry, I- please, just-"

You stopped his chaotic rambling in its tracks as you grabbed his dick, moving it between your folds and letting yourself sink onto it, slowly and carefully but in one smooth movement. His whine was completely unrestrained, hands trembling against the belt but knowing better than to attempt to free himself. You stilled as you reached his base, revelling in the feeling of having him inside of you, hot and hard, filling you up just right. Your break didn't last long as he gasped underneath you at the slightest movement. He was desperate and yours for the taking.

You moved slowly and deliberately, lifting your hips up all the way until he almost slipped out of you, before moving back down with just as much restraint. You only managed to do it two more times before he was a mess, mumbling words of please and fuck that you couldn't quite understand, trying his very hardest not to buckle up into you, fighting with the need for you. You couldn't deny him. Increasing your speed immediately, you allowed him to thrust up into you, meeting your movements halfway. Your hands landed on his chest, steadying yourself on him, clawing at his nipples in a way that seemed to almost make him cry in the best way, giving yourself a better angle to push yourself down on him again and again and again, both of your moans filling the room.

You were falling apart fast, riding him shamelessly to reach your own peak, clinging onto the feeling of him rubbing against your walls. For a moment, you wondered if you could adjust your position enough to reach your clit, give you that edge to let yourself come, but-

It wasn't needed.

Seemingly out of nowhere, he was hitting you in a way nothing had before. It was an awe-inspiring sensation, much deeper within you than the usual build-ups, encompassing your whole body. It had you restless and desperate, unable to care about anything but chasing that high as you thrust against him, letting his cock rub the perfect spot again and again and again until-

You came undone with a shout. A shout and a splash, as you shook above him, riding out your climax, head thrown back in utter bliss, a fire spreading through your whole body. You felt him come inside of you, moaning and pleading as he released, both of you buckling against each other until you were completely spent and exhausted, waiting to catch your breath. It was only when you let him slip out of you that you fully realised what had transpired. Your thighs, Thomas' stomach, the bed... everything was wet.

"Fucking hell," you whispered to yourself as you shuffled back a little to take in the damage. "I didn't..."

"Has that ever happened before?" Thomas' voice almost pulled you out of your thoughts. He was struggling to get himself out of the restraints of the robe belt, finally succeeding with little effort.

"No," you whispered, feeling somewhere between euphoric about the feeling you had just unlocked in yourself and self-conscious about having figured it out in a moment like this. "Never."

"Fuck, that's so hot."

He sat up quickly, wrapping you in his arms with seemingly no other objective but to hold you. A little giggle erupted in your throat as you hugged him back. You weren't sure how you would have reacted with anyone else. But with Thomas, it was nothing but love and safety and comfortableness and utter trust.

You stayed like that for a while, simply enjoying being close to each other, until you tried to move a little and found yourself sticking to the sheets.

"Maybe we should... get rid of those," you giggled, Thomas' laughter easily falling in tune with yours.

"Probably," he agreed, a quick kiss to your lips. "And you know, we're heading out on the promo tour soon. Maybe you can do that to a couple more beds all over Europe."

You could only smirk down at him. "Only if you prove that you deserve it, pretty boy."

***

Taglist: @till-you-scream-and-cry @ethaneskin @damianodavide @itsmaneskinbitch @blackberryblossom @lifeofa-fangirl @bethanysnow @noeprd27 @polygraph-paperplane @iambandlover @xx-x-frxnny @thewitchinthemountain @arrelia-hunter26 @crazyonthelines @vicbellaangelis @mortyandem @icarodamiano @Ursulalurks @Aapjesopeenfiets @xmusse @tellmesomething01 @elvirabelle @moonlight-simp @little-moonbeam-666 @maneslut @theimpossiblehologramtree @ha-la-ansia @l0standn0tf0und @iamtashaquinn @myleftsock @maneskintifoso @katmoonz @dreaming-with-happiness @que--sera--sera @cuzimitaliano @wow-ihateithere @searchingford @damianossigaretta @purrthehouse @gr8rainbowpunk @littledropsofheavens

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [two] // wanda maximoff

summary: your crush begins to get more intense for Wanda, ensuing awkwardness between you both

warning/s: none

author's note: so glad you’re all liking this, here’s part two! 🥰

part one | part three | part four | part five | masterlist | wattpad

I knew it was a dream as soon as it began. Dreams never tricked me as I always detected something didn't feel right and figured out it wasn't real. But that was my only 'talent' with dreams, as everything else was left down to my subconscious. I couldn't control them, break away from the script or deviate from the scene in any way. I just knew when it wasn't real.

Admittedly, it took a little longer for me to recognise this one was a dream compared to others I'd had. It just seemed so normal as I headed into Chemistry class, seeing other students filing in and joining their partners. Mr. Hale was at the front of the class, occupied by his laptop and the projector, and it felt like any other day at school. The lights were off and the blinds were closed slightly, leaving the room in darkness except for the light from the board.

"Are we watching a film or something?" I asked Wanda as I set my bag on the desk beside her, earning her attention.

She looked up from her notepad and smiled widely, blue eyes sparkling in the darkness. "You're here, you took forever!"

"You saw me two lessons ago," I teased, taking a seat beside her.

She moved closer to me, hands immediately moving to my left one, playing with my fingers mindlessly. It felt right at the time, but I knew deep down that this wasn't real. In what world would this happen?

"Still," she mumbled adorably, before meeting my eyes. "We're watching some video about the periodic table."

I hummed, glancing at Mr. Hale as he struggled to pull up the video.

"Thank God because I couldn't be bothered doing work," Wanda added with a sigh, before moving closer to me, leaning on the palm of her hand as the other held mine still. "D'you think you can cover for me whilst I sneak in a nap?"

I stifled a laugh, moving closer and admiring the way her eyes changed colour in the light from the board. "I'm sure you're supposed to be paying attention."

She scrunched her nose, an uninterested smile on her lips, and it made my heart flutter.

"Fine, I'll cover for you," I gave in easily, before pressing a kiss to her nose.

She giggled quietly and when I pulled back, she leaned in and kissed my lips. Her free hand moved to the back of my neck as I rested mine on her lap, closing my eyes and falling into her without question. Okay, so yeah, definitely a dream, but I wasn't complaining.

"If Miss Maximoff and Miss Y/L/N can kindly stop making out, then we can begin the lesson," Mr. Hale announced, breaking Wanda and I's kiss.

Some of the class snickered as we separated from each other's hold, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He gave us a fed up look.

"Thank you," he said, before erupting into a speech about today's lesson.

When he started the video, I leaned forward on the desk to get comfortable and felt Wanda do the same, leaning her head on my arm and continuing to play with my hand. I smiled to myself, kissing the top of her head gently before getting comfortable. It all seemed too good to be true, but God was it a nice thought.

When I woke up the next morning with butterflies in my stomach, I groaned loudly. I knew I'd screwed myself over. I was in too deep. Dreaming about Wanda was not good, not good at all...

And it definitely didn't help when I showed up to class that same day, approaching my table and an already-seated Wanda. Just a dream, I told myself as I took a seat. Not real. And not a big deal.

"Good morning," she greeted when I sat down and pulled my books out. Her usual picture perfect smile was on her lips as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "How are you?"

Trying my best not to think about my dream, I gave her a small smile. "G-good, yeah."

Fuck me, why did I stutter?

"You sure? You seem distracted," she noticed, making me swallow hard and look away from her piercing gaze.

"Yeah," I managed to say without stuttering once again. "Just tired. What about you?"

"Same," she said with a breathy chuckle, her leg brushing mine under the table and making me freeze. She didn't seem to notice as she continued, "I stayed up late binge-watching Netflix. Probably the wrong choice, but here we are."

I bit my lip to contain a laugh, relaxing a little. It was just a dream. She wasn't that bad. I was fine!

Class started and Mr. Hale was explaining something about doing a practical experiment today, but if I'm being honest, I was barely listening. Stuck in a daydream, I was wiggling my pen in my right hand and staring at the display behind Mr. Hale's head mindlessly.

Suddenly, a warm hand rested on mine, pressing it to the table and stopping me from shaking my pen. I shit you not, my heart stopped when I saw Wanda smirking playfully at me.

"D'you mind?" she asked, clearly finding my wiggling pen distracting.

All I could think about was how soft and warm her hand was, and then I became aware of her bare leg still brushing against mine – she just had to wear a dress today, didn't she? – and then the fact that she was still staring at me with amusement dancing in her eyes. My dream from last night returned to mind as she was still yet to remove her hand and I was lucky I managed to find my words as I choked out a response.

"S-sorry," I said, frozen in place, yet again, by Wanda's presence.

She snickered, shaking her head at my dismay, before finally letting go of my hand. I licked my lips nervously and let go of my pen, but not quite finding the energy to move my hand. I could still feel the warmth of her hand lingering on mine and, oh God, this was getting worse by the second. Why did I have to have that stupid dream?!

Clearly distracted by my own stupidity, I failed to realise that Mr. Hale had let us begin with our experiment, whatever that may be as I wasn't listening. Wanda was nudging me slightly, bringing me back into reality, and said something about getting lab coats and goggles whilst I got the bunsen burner.

I watched her leave and massaged my head, telling myself to get my act together. I was not the stupid cliché of a girl who acted nervous around her crush. I was better than that, goddamn it.

After getting the bunsen burner, I hooked it up to the gas tap as Wanda returned with our lab coats and safety goggles. We both put them on before Wanda gave me a knowing look, humoured smile tugging at her lips. I was beginning to hate (love) that look.

"You totally weren't paying attention during that, were you?" she asked, but she definitely already knew the answer.

"'Course I was," I played it cool, before wandering over to the handout on our desk. "We're doing an experiment."

She chuckled as I distracted myself with reading the instructions.

"So it says the first instruction is to boil some water in a beaker," I said with a nod. "Seems easy enough. Just gotta get a beaker."

My mouth went dry when Wanda hunched down on the desk, reading the paper between us. I hoped she couldn't hear how fast my heart was beating in my chest.

"You think you can manage that one?" she teased, glancing up at me with that same playful smirk on her lips.

Her eyes twinkled with mischief, similar to the one her twin possessed on a regular basis, and I'd never felt more stuck in place in my life than I did now. Without thinking, my gaze lowered to her lips and I realised then and there how badly I wanted to feel her lips against mine for real. She was so close I could move forward a mere few inches and feel it, but I didn't.

"Y-yeah, I'll get it now," I stumbled out, before literally stumbling over the stool as I made a move to leave.

I tried to ignore the way her gaze followed me and instead focused on getting to the beakers without passing out. To my relief, Y/BF/N was also collecting a beaker for him and his partner, too. When I stopped by his side, he looked up to see who it was, then smiled.

"You alright?" he asked, sensing my panic.

I shook my head frantically. "Definitely not. This is really bad, Y/BF/N."

Y/BF/N furrowed his brows, making me give him the look, to which he eventually followed what I meant.

"What happened?" he asked, trying (and failing) to hide his amusement.

I made sure nobody was nearby or could hear us before admitting, "I had a dream."

He raised his eyebrows suggestively, making me slap him on the arm quickly.

"Not that kind of dream, you perv," I clarified, before sighing. "But a dream. About you-know-who. And it threw me off and now I can't seem to act like a human."

He snorted as he tried not to laugh. I glared at him, shoving him again, making him laugh out loud.

"I'm sorry," he defended. "It's just– you've got it bad."

"Very helpful." I narrowed my eyes.

"Look, it's new which is why you're all awkward," he said knowingly, collecting his beaker. "It'll eventually pass when you get used to it. Until then, try not to do anything stupid."

"Too late," I mumbled under my breath.

He patted me reassuringly before leaving. I grabbed a beaker and turned around, deciding to take it easy. I'd get over it. I always did. I wasn't stupid. Yeah, I wasn't stupid. I had this!

But that thinking immediately went out the window when I approached our workspace and saw Wanda leaning on the desk, looking over the handout with thought. Her hair was pulled back for safety reasons, exposing her tensed jaw and pursed lips. She was wearing her lab coat over her black, knee-length dress and I'm not gonna lie, she looked extremely sexy today because she was wearing matching black knee-high boots. I gulped.

God help me.

—

You'd be relieved to know that my crush on Wanda died down after a while. Not in the way that I no longer had a crush on her – God knew I was overflowing with feelings for her – but in the way that I was getting a lot better at hiding it.

Which was perfect for when I saw her with her dick of a boyfriend. You'd be surprised how many times he kept popping up. And when he did, I always seemed to want to strangle him.

This time, I was working my new part-time job at a pizza place in town. Y/BF/N was keeping me company on my shift by taking extra long to finish his pizza so we could talk at the counter. I was drying some glasses as we spoke when the door to the parlour opened and the bell jingled, signalling new customers.

"I believe that's your cue," Y/BF/N teased, making me roll my eyes playfully.

My gaze wandered to the door where I saw a small group of teens walking in and finding a seat. It took me a second to realise that it was actually Wanda and her friends, including her boyfriend, who were looking for a table. My eyes widened with surprise as she looked around. Her eyes found mine and an excited smile appeared on her face as she waved to me.

"This just keeps getting better," Y/BF/N said when he saw Wanda heading our way, thankfully without her friends.

I pinched him before straightening up and plastering my best customer service smile on my lips. Wanda stopped before me, smiling between Y/BF/N and I.

"Hey, guys," she greeted brightly, to which Y/BF/N smiled in return, before looking my way and making my stomach flip at how pretty she looked today. "Y/N, I didn't know you worked here!"

"Yeah, it's kinda new," I answered coolly. "Gotta get that extra money, right?"

She nodded before grabbing the tip of my cap on my head and wiggling it, letting out a laugh. "You look adorable in your uniform, I must say."

I forgot how to breathe as she let go of my cap, her eyes still glittering with joy. Y/BF/N tried to hide his laughter as he sipped his drink, meanwhile I felt my neck heating up with embarrassment.

"Th-thanks," I got out nervously. I know what you're thinking – I said I got better at hiding my crush. And I have! I just– why did she have to put me on the spot like this?!

"I should get back," she said after a moment, pointing over her shoulder towards her friends. "But it was nice seeing you. Are you serving us?"

I nodded, regaining composure. "I'll be over in a minute. Give you chance to pick something."

"Awesome," she said sweetly, flashing me a final smile before heading back to her friends.

I released a shaky breath when she left, taking my cap off and massaging my head momentarily.

"I feel like she flirts with you just to see what happens," Y/BF/N said with amusement.

"It's just her personality," I mumbled, before putting my cap back on and taking a deep breath. "Time to work."

I continued to do my job as usual, thankfully not being affected by Wanda's presence, and took their orders. It was pretty uneventful as I served them their food and continued to hang with Y/BF/N by the counter. Every time I'd look over at her out of bad habit, I'd feel uneasy at the sight of Nate having his hands all over her. I mean, obviously he could – he was her boyfriend – but admittedly, I was a little jealous. I tried to ignore the feeling by busying myself with other things.

Wanda's friends were being a little noisier and rowdier than I'd liked, but it wasn't particularly busy so I saw no need to shut them up. Yeah, in hindsight, maybe I should have.

Clearing a table after some customers left, I balanced a tray of glasses in my hand and headed back to the counter. But on the way, a football came out of nowhere and got launched at my chest, making me drop the tray onto the floor with a loud crash. The rowdiness from Wanda's table ceased momentarily, as did the chatter from other customers, and I looked up to see Nate and his friends watching me, trying to suppress laughter.

"I am so sorry," Nate called with anything but guilt.

"Shit, Y/N, you okay?" Y/BF/N said, racing to my side in an instant.

I nodded, clenching my jaw, and bent down to clean up the mess. My boss must have heard the commotion as she came out from the kitchen and saw what happened, putting two and two together.

"Right, all of you out," she ordered without questioning anything, looking to Nate and the rest of the table. "We don't tolerate that tomfoolery here."

They groaned their complaints, but I didn't bother looking up to see, instead focusing on cleaning up the mess. Luckily for me, the tray took most of the hit rather than my chest, so unlike last time, I wasn't hurt.

"You're lucky I'm not charging you for the broken glasses, honey," my boss continued to scold Nate as he walked past, grabbing his football.

I saw feet shuffling past me, presuming it was their table leaving, and focused on picking up the large shards of glass and putting them on the tray. Y/BF/N helped out, even though he didn't need to, and I smiled at him as he knelt opposite me doing the same.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," Wanda's voice grabbed my attention, making me look up. She had a guilty frown on her lips as she looked between the mess and I.

I stood up, shaking my head. "It's fine. It's–" But I stopped speaking, instead letting out an exhausted sigh. "No offence, but your boyfriend is a dick."

She pressed her lips together, not saying anything. I felt bad for saying it, but this was the second time he'd hit me with his stupid ball. It was true.

"I should clean this up," I mumbled, avoiding her eyes. "See you at school."

She opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. I knelt down and continued to clean up, hoping she'd walk away already. This was awkward enough as it was.

"See you guys at school," she finally spoke, making me pause. "Sorry, again."

Y/BF/N bid her a goodbye before she left for good. I let out another sigh, deciding not to say anything as I continued cleaning up. It would never make sense to me why someone as lovely as Wanda would be with someone as obnoxious as Nate. I guess I'd never know.

—

Since that lovely incident at the pizza parlour, things had been a little distant between Wanda and I. Mostly on my part if I'm being honest. I couldn't help it – the whole situation had been uncomfortable and embarrassing, making it impossible to return to how we usually were.

This meant that Wanda was the one to come to me and check in, which I definitely wasn't expecting.

I was at home one afternoon, hanging with my older sister who was staying with us for a week. She'd moved out a year ago, getting her own place a few towns over, so I missed her presence a lot. I took advantage of her weekly visit by having a catch up as we played basketball in the front drive.

Disclaimer: none of us were good at basketball, but the hoop came with the house and it was simply tradition for us to attempt to shoot baskets as we had a catch up. Only, this time, as we were talking, a loud car engine pulled us from our chat and we both spun around to see an unfamiliar car parking up.

"That must be mum's customer," Y/S/N realised, holding the basketball underneath her arm. She glanced at me with a quirked brow. "You think we're gonna get roped into helping?"

"Most definitely," I answered with a chuckle, and just on cue, our mum opened the garage door behind us.

She was a florist and had a large pick-up delivery for a customer today. Apparently they were a good friend, so she had the flowers delivered to our house and they were waiting in our garage until now.

"Can you girls give me a hand?" she asked my sister and I, motioning for us to go to her. "I'm gonna say hi. Just start bringing the crates out, yeah?"

We both saluted playfully before watching her go to the customer's car. My jaw dropped when I saw who it was – Wanda's mum. And to top things off, Wanda and Pietro were both with her, the three of them getting out of their car and greeting my mum with smiles on their faces.

"You cool?" my sister asked, nudging me slightly.

I closed my mouth, straightening up. "Yeah, yeah, duh."

She gave me a funny look but grabbed a crate and began to leave it in the drive for the moment. I swallowed the lump in my throat and did the same, knowing both Wanda and Pietro were approaching us after my mum pointed them our way.

"Y/N, hey," Wanda said, stopping before my sister and I. She gave my sister a friendly smile before looking to me with nervous eyes. "It's good to see you."

I tried to say something – anything – but my words got stuck in my throat and all that came out was a weird noise. Partially because of the awkwardness between us at my fault and partially because of how pretty she looked in her sundress.

"Hi, I'm Y/S/N," my sister cut in, noticing my quietness. She gave me a sideways glance before looking to the twins. "It's Wanda and Pietro, right?"

"Yeah," Wanda said with a smile, eyes lingering on mine before looking to my sister. "We're just helping our mum out to load the car."

"I'm the muscle," Pietro joked, lifting his bicep, making Wanda roll her eyes jokingly.

"Okay, muscle, you can come help me get these out the garage," my sister played along before looking to Wanda and I. "You guys okay to load the car?"

Wanda nodded. "Sure thing."

Y/S/N grabbed Pietro, who shot me a friendly smile, before leaving Wanda and I alone.

"Your sister seems nice," Wanda tried to make conversation as we both grabbed a crate and took it to the back of her mum's car.

"Yeah," I agreed uncomfortably. "She's just visiting."

Wanda hummed in acknowledgment, neither of us knowing what else to say. We walked past our chatting mothers before setting the crates in the back of her mum's car.

"Are we okay?" Wanda asked suddenly, as soon as our hands were free. I looked to her and saw she was debating something internally before looking to me. "I mean, I know we're okay, but I just– I feel like you've been off since, well... since Nate threw that ball at you."

My neck heated up with embarrassment as I cleared my throat; my eyes fell to the flowers in the crates.

"I really am sorry," she apologised again, resting a hand on my forearm, sending shivers up my spine. "He can be such a jerk sometimes. Does stuff without thinking."

"You don't need to apologise," I said, finally lifting my eyes to meet her anxious green ones. And I meant it – Nate's idiocy wasn't her fault and it was harsh of me to make her seem like it was. I sighed, knowing my distant behaviour would end here. "We're good, Wanda."

She still seemed uncertain. "You sure?"

I gave her my best smile, hoping she knew I meant it. "I'm sure."

Her tense shoulders relaxed and a relieved smile spread across her face. "Okay, good. I'm glad."

She held my gaze and I just knew my heart was beating too fast to be useful as she did. She was just so beautiful.

"You know, the whole point of splitting into teams was to be done quicker," Pietro's voice interrupted our staring contest.

He stepped between us, glancing between us with amusement, before setting a crate in the back of the car.

"Right, yeah, we were just on our way back," I said, smiling sheepishly.

Pietro smirked. "No harm no foul, princess."

I was taken aback slightly as he called me that, and even more taken aback when he plucked a flower from the crate and offered it my way.

"For you," he said, half joking and half serious.

Unsure what to say, I accepted the flower. "Er, thanks... I think."

Wanda crossed her arms behind him, eyes narrowed in his direction. I wondered what she was thinking, but never got the chance to ask as their mum's voice called out to us.

"Pietro, I paid to use the bouquets," she said with mild distress, "not so you could ruin them."

His cheeks flushed as he called back, "Sorry!"

I tried not to laugh as the three of us headed back to get the rest of the crates, being sure to set the flower to the side. We ended up filling her car with the bouquets before facing our parents as we bid them a goodbye.

"They're lovely, Y/M/N," Wanda's mum was complimenting the flowers. "Thank you again."

My mum patted her back. "Anytime, dear." She looked between the twins and my sister and I. "Thank you all for helping out."

Y/S/N and I smiled her way as Wanda's mum nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, thank you!" she added, looking to Y/S/N and I. "It's so great to see you all together. Especially you two, Wanda and Y/N. It's nice to know you're good friends after so long of barely speaking."

Wanda's face was beginning to turn pink as I'm sure mine was doing the same.

"Yes, I agree," my mum said with a smile. "Anyway, we won't keep you any longer. Good luck with the banquet!"

Wanda and Pietro waved goodbye to Y/S/N and I before joining their mum in the car. I followed her figure subconsciously, butterflies floating in my stomach until their car was gone.

"Damn, I really missed a lot," Y/S/N said when they were gone, wrapping an arm over my shoulder and tugging me closer. "You're crushing hard."

Instantly, I looked to her. "What? What are you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes, letting go of me. "So we're playing that game. Okay. I'll bite."

As she began to walk away, I chased after her. "What game? Y/S/N? What are you talking about?"

She merely laughed and allowed me to chase her, wondering how the hell she knew of my crush on Wanda. Was I that obvious?

[surrealsunday]

I think I kinda loved everything about this chapter, but there were a few especially amazing moments. I was very much into Lucas's suffering. Even though we didn't know what was going on exactly, it was very obvious that the situation was destroying him. And I live for that kind of angst tbh. In the locker room when he's so hurt and confused by Eliott saying he hates him (even though he knows it's not true)! That hit me so hard. And the elevator!!! Omg!!! I think Lucas was really sure he'd fucked it up for good and that he had lost Eliott. And he was such a mess about it.

And him standing in front of Eliott's door because he couldn't sleep without him, I'm 😭😭😭 That was it for me. That broke my heart and then glued it right back together again because Eliott hugged him. And I lost it when Lucas told him he needed to cuddle him, always!!! Giving up his bratty act to let Eliott know how much he loves and needs him? That was so genuine and serious and vulnerable and I can't!!!!

I was a bit sad that Lucas still couldn't really stand up for himself and only punched Moreau because he did something about Eliott. However, I find that so very relatable!!! Like I never think people hurting me warrants violence or retribution, but if someone comes for the people I love, I'll try to break that person's legs!!!

I was very into Lucas's friends being on board with Eliott and trying to help, especially Manon.

And I loved Idriss in this chapter again. I think he was very good n'est friend rep, being on Eliott's side, but also subtly just wanting them to be together and only giving Lucas shit because of that.

The colors of the mood tattoo conversation was everything to me. They are so cute, and I love that they come back to it later. It's such a nice way to communicate underneath all the banter and brattiness.

And I was so elated to find out Lucas's whole story, especially that talking about handouts and stuff really referred more to himself than Eliott. That makes so much sense to me, how he sees everything he'd want to be himself in Eliott and that fuels his self-hatred, but then again he's taking it out on Eliott. It was so important to me to understand early Lucas.

There were a myriad more things I loved, but I can't just recount the whole chapter to you I guess 😅😅😅

In general I'm so happy with them being together and how in love they are and how even their romantic talk is kinda brattty banter. They are just a really cute and interesting couple. I love! 💖💖💖💖💖

“I was very much into Lucas’s suffering” -> the way you worded that, Soph, made me seriously lol. I know exactly what you mean though. I am into that kind of angst too. Like yes he’s taken actions that have gotten him to that place but I wanted it to be so clear that he was absolutely destroyed by ending things with Eliott. He absolutely thought (by the time he’s with Eliott in the elevator) he had fucked things up too badly. When he breaks up with Eliott he has this slight glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe he’ll be able to figure everything out - just fix everything and it will all be ok, he’ll be able to get Eliott back. It’s why he says ‘take a break’ during that convo. But after the locker room scene he really thinks he’s fucked it all up too badly. Eliott will never want him again. 

I’m such a sucker for hugs. I could just visualize Eliott immediately wrapping Lucas up in his arms in that reunion scene. And yes! That little moment of Lucas just outright admitting he wants to be cuddled. He’ll always be a brat of course 😆, but he’s committed now to being a lot more honest about his feelings. 

Omg what you said about the reason Lucas stands up to Moreau - yes, I feel you. It’s so much easier to take action when it’s for someone you love vs. for yourself. At the same time though, Lucas trying to get the better of Moreau in the first place (and get the recording) was his way of trying to take the control back and stand up for himself. It’s just that when Moreau brings Eliott into it, all that goes out the window. 

It’s funny how much I’ve made myself love Idriss by writing so much of him into the stories. I swear I never intend on him being as crucially involved but he works his way in there. So I’m glad you enjoy him too! 

I really am so glad Lucas’s story made sense. Honestly when I was writing this fic I obviously went totally away from any sort of outline I’d created. So it wasn’t the plan to have Lucas’s story wait until the last chapter. It just all sort of rolled out that way and felt right. But it was so important in that case that it wraps everything together- the start of the story and the end. I was really hoping that would be effective. 

I’m so glad you enjoyed. Thank you so much for sending me your thoughts,  Soph! 💕💕💕💕💕💕

[adem-sahir]

He shook his head and sighed, looking at the man across from him with a look of frustration. "What you're doing is looking at me like I'm a bird with a broken wing." Adem explained and fiddled with a butter knife on the table as he spoke. "I don't need help. I don't need somewhere to stay or to work. I own my own home in Primose Heights. I'm a fucking cop dude. I have my shit together." Adem was what they would call a 'functioning alcoholic' in their meetings. He drank too much and he relied on it to get through his hard days, but he wasn't homeless or unemployed. He didn't let it keep him from existing. The bigger problem if he was honest, was his mental health. "What I need, what I want, if anything, isn't handouts. I want someone to talk to me like a person and not a problem." @charliesxdavis

He looked at Adem for a moment he was annoyed but holding back being mad at the younger male. "Because some people have been there and don't need shit back to help someone else out" He had been there alone and had no one, and scared everyone off or made them that mad. But he found a person that took him in and helped him out. He looked at the seat across from him to make sure Adem sat down. "It's a barn for my staff, weekend hires it's bed, and bath " he wasn't wanting him to think it was some just spot in the barn that didn't have a bed "Did I say that shit? No i did not I am saying I have space if you need it and work if you need it" he was trying to to be tough on the other male. He heard the other say that he was an alcoholic he did not think the other male had said that yet. "So I know man, it dont matter how long you have stopped or how long you drink it's always part of you" he knew that fact very well. That he may have stopped drinking but it wasn't like he had thoughts or feelings still. "I am not treating you like a man? I am not holding your hand I am? i am giving you a meal and a chance if you want it. " he said as the food came over "Sorry Miss but thank you" he said to the waitress. He could talk Adem's ear off with his life and past but he had been in the meetings the other man already knew that story. @adem-sahir

[kineticwordplay]

herald of worry

this sunday, my review center announced the start of pre-season boards and I just got into my portal...which is when i felt shit got real.

of course, with that was the lovely things you have to do because that is the whole point of the review center right. Hungry to redeem myself from my poor grades in med school, i went for it that day.

I took the diagnostic test - i did okay?

did all the exams that followed - kinda wanna shoot myself in the head right there, but while answering i repeatedly told myself that " i haven't tackled this yet, didn't read this yet. yet. yet. yet,"

But i can't help but think maybe i should have done more?

i KNOW i did something during the months in e-nternship but that strange sensation of not doing "enough" just gets me.

added the fact that i seem to forget things as I read them, does not help my mental situation at all.

Right now though, i divided the handouts to the number of pages I had to do in a day. It's a lot, this is on top of doing internship related things.

Oh and they just uploaded a 5 hour rationale of that big exam, God help my schedule.

I'm still trying everything that i need to do, but I will be honest and say that i feel like I am still not doing enough, i need a high grade, heck i need to get a top spot. Maybe i just need to try harder. consistently.

[mintypothos]

11 Jamilton, please. Thank you for using my prompt meme, it took a lot of effort and I'm glad that someone likes it.

No problem and thanks for posting!

“11. Growing up together and sending paper airplanes to the other person’s window each night“

The first time it happened, Alex was talking too loud again. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't at least partially because of his asshole of a neighbour, Thomas, was trying to do homework.

Alex really hated that guy. Right from the first day he moved in with the Washingtons and went to greet the “just a little older than you and a little shy, but I'm sure you'd get along” kid next door. He'd had his hopes of friendship rebutted with a wrinkled nose at Alex's missing baby tooth and the dirt under his fingernails; replaced with an eternal rivalry with a haughty sniff and a slammed door in Alex's face.

By some unfortunate arrangement, their bedrooms, both on their houses respective second floors, faced each other. Only a few meters of open air separated one window from another. Alex wasted no time getting into the habit of always peeking at Thomas' room before doing anything else. Which was why Thomas scratching a pencil against his head and pulling at his own bushy hair while huddled over the day's homework was the perfect time to make a phone call. It was an even more perfect time to make a phone call to his friend Hercules to ask him if he needed any help with today's work, because the math was just so easy and obvious to him, and wouldn't it be a shame if someone was left having trouble with it?

Alex should have expected some kind of retaliation. In fact, he did expect one, just not so soon. Nor did he expect it in the form of a perfectly crafted paper airplane bouncing off the floor of his room with a sudden smack that made him jump.

Alex hastily hung up. He glared out his window at the only possible perpetrator. Thomas was out of sight from his vantage point. Either he'd run off or hidden after throwing the plane, and either way, Alex wasn't impressed.

He snatched the paper plane, fully intending to send it flying straight back where it came. He'd teach that asshole Thomas not to throw trash through his window. But, hidden under the fold of lined school paper was a thick line. If there was one thing Alex was weak to, it was curiosity. Well, that and proving himself and/or others wrong, if Alex was being honest. He unfolded the plane. In giant letters that took up the whole page were two words.

“Shut Up!”

Alex wrinkled his nose. He'd shut up, alright- and give Thomas a taste of his own medicine. Alex reached into his school binder for a blank paper.

--

After that day, the floodgates Alex hadn't even known about were opened. Naturally, Thomas could never leave well enough alone and had to send a paper plane back the next day. Alex had no choice but to respond.

It started with base insults. The kinds of things Alex would shout to Thomas any day, or even through the window. But Thomas always shut it closed when that happened. The paper planes, however, were always read, and always returned, even if not right away. It was a form of power Alex didn't always have in verbal conversations.

“nice job arguing with the teacher today, idiot”

“nice job being a teachers pet”

Slowly, over the months and without Alex even realizing, the insults morphed into actual advice. There was so much space, and Alex loved writing as much as he loved proving himself. Thomas wasn't far behind, despite his superior attitude.

“I can't believe you didn't know the answer to today's history question. Read the handouts, maybe.”

“You act like large multiplication is impossible. It's just like single digit, but longer.”

“How did it feel coming in second to Aaron in the spelling bee? Acquaintance is spelled with an 'a', not an 'e'.”

Nothing changed on the surface, the paper planes like their own little world. Alex sent and received them daily; for months, then into the next year, and then into the next.

“Son, can I speak with you for a moment?” George asked one day, trying to hide a smile behind his hand.

Alex shot his adoptive father a suspicious look. “Okay.”

“Alright, son, I just want you to know that Martha and I both support and love you, okay? No matter who you have a crush on.”

Alex jumped at the words, his mind somehow flashing to a bushy head of hair and sharp, biting, intelligent words. “Wh-what are you talking about!? I don't have a crush!”

George's smile widened. He looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Of course, son. Though, you might want to work on your aim. Those paper planes that miss do have to land somewhere, and your mother and I have gotten tired of plucking them out of the side-yard hedges.

Alex flushed cherry red. George clapped him on the back-shoulder and walked away with a laugh.

The thing was, Alex hadn't considered the idea at all. Thomas was... Thomas. An infuriating know-it-all who lived to argue with him. But he wasn't just that anymore, not since there paper plane letters had turned to actual venting and support. Thomas shit talked Mr. Lee when he gave Alex detention over nothing. Alex shit talked Mr. Adams when he lost his temper and swore at Thomas in front of the whole school.

A plane skidded across Alex's floor, and he jumped from his thoughts. It was just an innocent piece of paper. An innocent piece of paper that represented years of exchanges with someone who was a mortal enemy, a kind-of friend, and now, apparently, a crush. Alex unfolded the paper.

“I'm bored, entertain me! >:^(“

Alex snorted loudly, glancing out the window. Thomas stared back, raising a brow pointedly. He'd come a long way from hiding every time he sent a letter. Alex considered what to say, and then got out his pencil.

“Let's go see a movie, then. Lego Batman is still showing at 6”

Alex liked to take chances with things he wanted, because most of the time, that was the only way Alex could even get what he wanted. This was no different. He sneaked a quick peek- Thomas was staring at the open paper and his ears were red. Alex grinned.

This was uncharted territory, but Alex was used to uncharted territory. He could manage one date.