#and act completely different with all of them

[meo-eiru]

Day 3 of Character Trivia Night!

For tonight we have Lavi

Lavi is the son of two high ranking demons

Beauty and power makes you attractive to other demons, so Lavi who had both right from birth was spoiled like no other his whole life

Due to his power and rank it's really hard to summon him so when you did it he assumed you went out of your way to do it and was targeting him specifically

His ideal partner is someone who does what he says and spoils him, if you don't fit that description he'll forcefully make you fit the mold

He likes to stay up late and laze around in bed until lunch time, he'll also force you to follow the same schedule as well

Out of all the boys he's the most likely to visibly get angry at you and take it out on you physically

A lot of stuff makes him angry but there are levels to it and each level brings out a different type of tantum

Low level ones are not including him in something you're doing, not watching the show he wanted to watch, complimenting animals and/or inanimate objects when he's right there, not kissing him as soon as you wake up etc. These don't cause big outbursts but will cause him to act extra needy

Mid level ones are going out without him, forcing him to wear something he doesn't like, not praising him properly, being in a room with other men, not having sex with him as soon as he shows signs of wanting it, not responding when he's talking to you etc. These ones will cause bigger outbursts, often public. He'll be crying, screaming and stomping his feet. He might pull your clothes or hair or physically attack someone near you

High level ones are actually sleeping with someone else, actively ignoring him to pay attention to someone else, badmouthing and/or insulting him, attempting or managing to summon another demon, attempting to exorcise him and/or physically hurting him with holy items etc. With these he'll be mad. It's pretty much over for everyone around. If the offense is tied to someone else like a man you were with or a demon you summoned he'll personally make their face unrecognizable, drag their bloodied body around in hell and hang it on a high spot to set an example. When it comes to you he won't be screaming like his normal tantrums, he'll just grab you by your hair and drag you to a bedroom. If you try to protest he'll pierce your skin with his nails deep and leave bleeding scratch marks to make sure you remember what he'll do to you forever. He might also dig his heels into your skin depending on how much you're fighting back.

He can burn others, charm them or suck out their life energy. He's small but does have inhumane strength and speed

His blood can work as a light aphrodisiac but is addictive

No matter what type of personality you have he'll force you to be on top of him during sex

He really likes it when you mark his skin and if it's for sex you're allowed to choke him too. The next day he'll run out half naked just to make the people around see the marks

Once you tried going to work/school while he was still asleep but he unfortunately raided the building as soon as he realized you were gone and threw the desks around until you let him sit on your lap as you worked

His wings and tail can be quite sensitive

He likes to wrap the tail around your leg while you two are having sex and squeeze it hard

He likes being manhandled if it's for foreplay

He wants you to spoil him and buy him all the clothes and accessories he wants and hasn't asked for yet, he doesn't really care if you end up in debt or something, he can always just drag your soul down to hell with him

But he lowkey enjoys watching you struggle to take care of him

He doesn't need to eat but he loves anything sweet, if a normal human tried eating the desserts he eats on a daily basis they'd die from sugar overdose

He loves to publicly shame anyone who shows interest in him while he's already with you and expects you to do the same

His skin is completely spotless, not a single scar which is something to proud of as a demon. It's one of the reasons why he exposes so much skin

[baronfulmen]

I can't properly articulate how much less politically aware young people were at the time in America, it was a completely different world with the Internet not at ALL the same thing and less of a feeling like everything was a constant disaster.

And even so, even just past twenty and more oblivious than most, I knew that the WMD thing was bullshit. That's how bad it was. Random politically uninformed kids still acting like teenagers were aware that we were about to go to war over a lie.

And the main thing that was said to counter it was "well, if the people in charge disagree they're certainly more qualified and informed and so we should trust them" but hey guess what, we did eventually get confirmation it was all bullshit.

So yeah, none of them get a pass.

COSTELLO: You voted for the Iraq war in 2002, is that correct? SCHIFF: Yes, I did. COSTELLO: Do you regret that vote? SCHIFF: Absolutely. Unfortunately, our intelligence was dead wrong on that, on Saddam at that time. We thought the weapons of mass destruction -- and that has set in motion a cascading series of events which have disastrous consequences. So yes, absolutely. I wish I had that to do all over again.

Fucking hate that we still have politicians who voted for the Iraq war

[mrsjellymunson]

Meet Me

Written for the @steddiemicrofic February prompt rose, and the @st-loveconfessions February Acts of Kindness day 02 challenge write a ficlet inspired by an artwork - I chose this piece by @resande bc it’s fkg stunning || Word count target: 367 || Rating: T || CW: Recollections of angst and allusions to canon-typical violence/gore, hopeful ending || Tags: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, post-S4, S4 fix-it, alternate outcome

Steve remembers.

He remembers it all. Everything about that night they fought demons.

He remembers the fear; tar-like dread rising in his chest as Eddie ran off to play the hero.

And after, how he’d staggered to Skull Rock, honouring the promise they’d made, a private pact to make it back here. Ignoring the nagging incertitude of whether both of them would.

He remembers the scent of rotting leaves and petrichor mingling with his own: sweat, blood and smoke, and how, gross as it was, it smelled better than where they’d just been. But behind it, a desire for cigarettes, weed and motor-oil that he'd never previously acknowledged, but was now inexplicably craving.

He remembers sitting, cold and alone. The only sounds rustling leaves above and his own ragged breaths. The notion that Eddie wouldn’t return gradually suffusing his mind like the chill that permeated his bones as the sun dipped ever lower.

He recalls twigs snapping, footfalls. The brief moment when he thought he might need his bat, for an animal. Or worse.

Then, just as the golden orb spilled its last over the horizon, illuminated by the diffuse celestial light…

Eddie.

He recalls indescribable relief. Then rising shakily on chilled legs, embracing his friend, holding him close. Feeling the texture of Eddie’s jacket in his fists, the sensation of solid, denim-clad thighs pressing against his own. How warm, how alive Eddie felt as Steve’s fingertips brushed his back as his clothing bunched in his grasp. The unexpected softness of Eddie’s hair, matted blood and entrails notwithstanding.

And how vigorously Eddie had gripped him back.

He remembers the relief suddenly morphing into something larger, stronger, more all-encompassing.

How a different sensation rose in his chest then. Something familiar, yet simultaneously completely uncharted. A fierce heat that started low in his belly, rising up through his torso, enveloping his heart and bursting out of his throat.

Flames he couldn’t contain or suppress, even if his life depended on it. A feeling so strong it subsumed all others. All fear, all doubt, all trepidation.

He remembers tears falling and his voice cracking as he’d sobbed and whispered the only words that entirely pervaded his mind,

“I love you.”

Thanks so much for reading!

PLEASE go and give love to the art by @resande, it’s called ‘Reunion at Skull Rock’ (you can see why I didn’t reveal the title at the start 😉) and I think it’s absolutely tremendous (all of their work is!). AND go send your ST love confessions via the asks at @st-loveconfessions , such a fantastic idea and a wonderful way to spread some love through the fandom ❤️

There’s lots more Steddie and Eddie on my masterlist

General taglist (open my sweet muffins, just ask!) @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @losingmygrasponreality @richter-raccoon @1deverland @evileyeandthecattywhumps @3rd-conchord @bellalillyrose

[deadhands69]

Will you be my Valentine?: Heroes (masc characters)

How does your favorite hero act on Valentine’s day when they have a crush on you? masc characters edition ▷ fem version ▷ villain version Featuring: Katsuki Bakugo, Shouto Todoroki, Hitoshi Shinso, Denki Kaminari, Eijiro Kirishima, Izuku Midoriya, Tamaki Amajiki, Hawks, Shouta Aizawa.

Bakugo is even more passive aggressive towards everyone most of the day: it's because he's nervous. The two of you often spend time at each other's places but tonight it's different. He's planning to make you a nice dinner and, if it goes well, tell you he likes you. When you arrive, there's a cute simple bouquet of your favorite flowers on the table and the smell of your favorite food. He did well. Everything goes to plan and you end up making out on his couch half the night.

How to handle this: Please don't tell anyone, he can't deal with them making fun of him for being soft.

Shouto read a lot of romance mangas to come up with a plan. He tried to chose ideas from the ones with main characters that remind him of you so it looks like your options will be: the mall, ice skating, and/or a nice dinner. If you're up for it, he's happy to do all three (but good luck dressing for that.) He stole Endeavor's credit card for whatever you want to do (at this point it's not really stealing, Endeavor just had cards made for each of his kids because he was sick of not being able to find his own.)

How to handle this: He has the basic structure of a date laid out, you'll probably have to fill in the rest with him. That'll be fun though!

Shinso listened to Aizawa's advice to do something low key for you. A few days in advance, he asks if you're free then makes some 11am plans to meet at a coffee shop then stop by the book and record stores nearby. It's laidback and easy, you get to talk to know him a lot better and each of the stops gives you an idea of each other's taste in media. Neither of you wants the date to end, so you pick up some takeout and head back to your place to listen to the albums you bought (and maybe other things.)

How to handle this: Keep him caffeinated, he wants to keep talking and get to know you better but he's soooo tired.

Kaminari knocks on your door just after 6pm on Valentine's day wearing a shirt that says “I’m with [giant picture of you face]”, he had one made for you too! Surprise!! After a few cheesy pickup lines, he asks you to go to the arcade with him. At first you think he's joking, because his tone is the same as the bad pickup lines, but you quickly realize he's completely serious about all of it. When you get there, you discover he's surprisingly good at the claw machine and wins you more plushies than you can carry. He also likes playing lightly competitive games against you, but it's mostly an excuse to playfully bump/nudge you when you pass him at Mario Kart. As you're leaving, he asks you on a second date to play mini golf, then celebrates you saying yes by kissing you excitedly and knocking all the plushies out of your arms.

How to handle this: Just go with it. Some of it's a little cringe but in a fun dorky way.

Kirishima volunteered to work Valentine's day a few months ago. He'd still like you to be his Valentine though, so he asks if you'll go out with him the day before. Fortunately, you're free that evening and get dinner reservations somewhere you both wanted to try. It's cute, he walks you to your doorstep, and kisses you goodnight. While at work, he spends all of Valentine's day texting you whenever he gets a chance. You have so much fun talking all day that you invite him over to hang out after his shift ends.

How to handle this: He's already happy you gave him a chance and were willing to work with his busy schedule. Also, tell him he's manly, he'll love it.

Midorya wrote 56 pages of plans over the past half a year, detailing exactly how he'd like to take you out, where you might be interested in going, how he'll ask, and rankings of the best and worst gift ideas. In the end, he ends up asking you out a week in advance, hands sweating so much he could barely text. When he arrives at your door, he's dressed cute and hands you some pretty flowers. The two of you walk to a nearby cafe. Overall, the whole thing is really sweet, even if he's super nervous.

How to handle this: Hold his hand on the walk back and his heart might jump out of his chest.

Amajiki wrote you a four page love letter complete with the most beautiful poem to ever grace the planet. Unfortunately, even with his friends hyping him up, he couldn't work up the nerve to deliver it to you so it lives in a box under his bed now.

How to handle this: You can try talking to him, but he'll probably get scared. Maybe just start with acknowledging his existence and if he doesn't run away immediately go from there.

Hawks takes you to five different parties over the course of the evening. At first, you figured he was asking you as a date. By the end of it, you're not so sure because nothing about this evening has been particularly romantic. That is, until he kisses you at the last stop - making his intentions very clear.

How to handle this: He's so excited you said yes and wants to publicly show off that you're willing to be his date, let him and he'll do all the sweet stuff later.

Aizawa isn't up for a huge fancy dinner or anything like that. But he does know it's Valentine's day and he does want to do something with you. He invites you over to his house to hang out, orders takeout, and rents a movie. You're ten minutes into the movie when you look over…and- fuck, he’s asleep.

How to handle this: Honestly, he’d probably prefer it if you just let him sleep.

masterlist

will aizawa fall asleep in every one of my hcs? yes.

[zwombiekochan341]

♡ SUGURU GETO & SATORU GOJO AS YANDERES ♡

Suguru Geto as a Yandere

- Obssesion & Love -

Geto isn’t the type to fall in love instantly. His obsession develops gradually, rooted in admiration and a sense of possession rather than infatuation.

At first, he sees you as an exception—unlike the “monkeys” he despises, you’re different, special, worthy of his attention.

His love is deep and unwavering, but it comes with an almost god-like superiority. He genuinely believes he knows what’s best for you.

Over time, this love twists into obsession, but Geto doesn’t see it that way. To him, it’s just natural—why wouldn’t he protect and claim the only person who truly matters?

- Possessiveness & Control -

Geto is extremely possessive but hides it well. He doesn’t lash out immediately—he manipulates situations so that you become dependent on him.

If someone gets too close, he doesn’t waste energy on petty jealousy. Instead, he orchestrates subtle sabotage—ruining friendships, isolating you, and making sure he’s the only person you can truly rely on.

He wants your world to revolve around him, and he does it so gracefully that you don’t even notice until it’s too late.

“You don’t need them. You have me. Isn’t that enough?”

- Manipulation & Mind Games -

Geto is a master manipulator. He doesn’t need brute force to keep you by his side—he uses guilt, logic, and persuasion to make you stay willingly.

He subtly rewrites reality, convincing you that the outside world is cruel and only he can keep you safe.

If you ever try to leave, he doesn’t panic. He simply smiles, speaks calmly, and twists your emotions until you start doubting yourself.

“I’m disappointed. After everything I’ve done for you, you’d really leave me for them?”

If manipulation doesn’t work, he shifts tactics—subtly making you fear the world beyond his grasp. He lets you believe it’s your choice to stay, when in reality, he’s eliminated all your other options.

- Violence & Darker Tendencies -

Unlike a reckless yandere, Geto doesn’t act out of impulse. Every action is calculated. If someone threatens his hold on you, he removes them efficiently and quietly.

He never harms you—physically, at least. But his emotional grip is just as suffocating.

If you truly defy him, he doesn’t lash out. Instead, he makes you regret it—not through pain, but through psychological torment. He isolates you until you crawl back to him on your own.

“You made a mistake. But I’m forgiving. Come back to me, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

- Devotion & Worship -

Despite his possessiveness, Geto’s love is genuine. He worships you in his own twisted way, seeing you as the only person worthy of standing beside him.

He wants you to believe in his vision, to see the world the way he does, to belong to him in mind and soul.

He expects complete devotion, but in return, he gives you his undivided love and protection.

“You are mine. And I am yours. That’s how it should be, don’t you agree?”

- Kidnapping & Captivity -

If it comes to this, Geto does it with grace and patience. He doesn’t need to chain you up—he simply makes it so that leaving is no longer an option.

He ensures your comfort—your prison is elegant, a place where you have everything you could ever want… except freedom.

He speaks to you with kindness, making it seem like he’s doing this for your own good.

"This isn’t a cage, my love. This is a sanctuary—where the world can’t hurt you. Where you’re safe. With me."

- Endgame: Can You Escape? -

Escaping from Geto isn’t impossible, but it’s nearly so. He’s too smart, too calculated, always ten steps ahead.

Even if you somehow break free, he will find you again. And when he does, he won’t be angry. Just… disappointed.

And that’s the worst part—because he’ll welcome you back like you never left, making you question whether you ever should have.

“You must be tired. Running, struggling. Come home, love. This time, I won’t let you go.”

Satoru Gojo as a Yandere

- Obsession & Love -

Gojo doesn’t fall in love easily—he’s used to people admiring him, fearing him, or wanting something from him.

But when he falls, he falls hard. His obsession with you is intense, all-consuming, and nearly impossible to escape.

Unlike others who might struggle with their feelings, Gojo embraces his obsession. He finds it thrilling, like a new challenge to conquer.

“You? Leaving me? Pfft, that’s adorable. As if I’d ever let that happen.”

- Possessiveness & Control -

Gojo is extremely possessive, but he masks it behind teasing and playfulness. He acts like your overprotective boyfriend, but the reality is much darker.

He loves knowing everything about you—where you go, who you talk to, what you’re thinking. It’s not even difficult for him; his power makes stalking effortless.

He casually interrupts your plans, ensuring you spend more time with him than with anyone else.

“Oh? You were supposed to meet someone? Too bad~ I need you more.”

- Manipulation & Mind Games -

Unlike more brutal yanderes, Gojo doesn’t need force—he plays with your mind and emotions until you’re completely dependent on him.

He gaslights you playfully, making you question reality until you start seeing things his way.

He weaponizes affection, overwhelming you with love one moment, then pulling back just enough to make you crave it.

“C’mon, don’t be mad. You know I only do this because I love you, right?”

- Jealousy & Violence -

Gojo doesn’t get jealous—he gets amused. He doesn’t see anyone as a real threat because, in his mind, who could possibly take you away from him?

But that doesn’t mean he won’t eliminate the competition. If someone gets too close, they simply… disappear.

He never lets you see his darker side, but if you ever found out, he’d just grin and say,

“Oops~ guess I got a little carried away. But hey, now it’s just you and me, forever and ever.”

- Devotion & Worship -

Despite his insanity, Gojo adores you. To him, you’re the only thing that makes his world bearable.

He spoils you rotten, making sure you’re comfortable, happy, and completely reliant on him.

But make no mistake—his love is suffocating. You are his, and nothing will change that.

“You don’t need anyone else. Just me. Always me.”

- Kidnapping & Captivity -

If Gojo ever decides to take you away, it’s game over.

There’s no escape—he’s too powerful, too smart, too in love to ever let you slip through his fingers.

But he makes it fun. He keeps you entertained, showered in affection, acting like nothing is wrong.

“Awww, you look so sad. Don’t worry, you’ll love it here! After all, you’re with me~”

- Endgame: Can You Escape? -

No. You cannot escape Satoru Gojo. Not in any lifetime, not in any universe.

If you try, he finds you. If you resist, he breaks you—gently, of course.

In the end, you always end up in his arms, because there is no world where he lets you go.

“Silly thing. You’re mine. Forever. Accept it.”

Whew… and that’s a wrap! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) This was my first time writing something like this, so I hope it turned out okay~! I had a lot of fun, but I’d love to hear what you think! Did you enjoy it? Was it yandere enough? (¬‿¬)♡

Feel free to leave your thoughts, but please be kind! (⺣◡⺣) And if you liked it, maybe stick around for more? Who knows what other obsessive little tales I’ll come up with next… fufu~ (♡ >ω< ♡)

Thanks for reading, and see you next time~! (✿˶˘ ³˘)♡

[polgarawolf1]

Honestly? He's also kind of a lazy writer. I mean, just off the top of my head, in Star Wars: The Clone Wars, aside from completely misisng out on adding any richness or depth (or possible foreshadowing about what Skeevy Sheev might be up to) to the story by working in Sith alchemy, experimental cloning, Nightsister Dark Magicks, or anything at all truly interesting, he just . . . basically goes, "Somehow, Darth Maul survived." And we're supposed to just take that and believe he lives on rage alone, even though he's literally missing the majority of his digestive system (not to mention basically his body's ENTIRE waste management system), having been completely bisected by lightsaber at or slightly above the waist. He makes Ahsoka be assigned to Anakin as a Padawan instead of . . . oh, planning ahead so that someone else always has a claim on her and he's always going to end up losing her because her first Master is still alive, just recovering from something like, say, nearly being killed at Geonosis. That could have opened up SO MANY MORE storylines about the Jedi and how the Jedi Order functions (not to mention how the war might be changing things) - what Jedi do when Masters are too damaged to keep teaching their apprentices; what Jedi do about orphaned and virtually orphaned Padawans; and even, on the flip side, how Jedi generally treat Jedi who lose their Padawans (does the High Council automatically assign such a Jedi another apprentice? No? Why not? Or if not immediately, then when?) - and could've avoided the entire godsawful horrendous stereotypical "let's turn one of the widely seen as being Muslim-coded character into a terrorist" storyline with Barriss Offee, since, again, Anakin would always have to given Ahsoka back up to her original Master, once said original Master's considered fieldworthy again.

He's also lazy in that, instead of doing to work to show character motivations and to give them more/different motivations, he mostly just kills off female characters in order to force people to be sad and then to act out because of their grief and anger or else to add more "pathos" to the story (like it actually NEEDS more!). He fridges Mina Bonteri, Steela Gerrera, Jedi Initiate Kalifa, Jedi Master Adi Gallia, Jedi Master Tiplar, Teckla Minnau, and Satine Kryze (Duchess of Mandalore) in Star Wars: The Clone Wars (and he does kind of the same thing to Rush Clovis, too, arguably, though that's more to drive Padmé - who's basically informally on a break/separated from Anakin because of his behaviour towards Rush Clovis - back into Anakin's arms).

I can't speak much to other shows - I'm perpetually behind on seeing things because we couldn't get streaming even if we could afford it or wanted it. Plus, I just hate the animation design for Rebels - from what I'm given to understand from what I've seen online, though, his laziness as a writer is an ongoing issue. He has a bad habit of coming up with great characters but failing to follow through in any truly meaningful way on their backstories in regards to their cultures. There is SO MUCH we don't know about Mandalore, given how often Mandalore/Mandalorians come up in his shows, that it's not even funny.

Also, I want to sic George Lucas on him every single time the lying LIAR lies about the Jedi in general.

Hi Lumi. This year I’ve watched The Clone Wars, Rebels, Mandalorian, Book of Boba Fett, and Tales of the Jedi and I’m watching Ahsoka as episodes are released. But I feel like I’m missing some context as to why people are wary of Filoni. What things should I know so I’m caught up, so to speak, in the fandom discussions?

Hi! That's a lot of Star Wars to watch in a year, I hope you're having fun with it all! And I will gently remind everyone that Filoni is not the be-all-end-all of Star Wars creators--Henry Gilroy was there for TCW and Rebels, too. George Lucas was holding writers' meetings years after the show started (at least into 2010!). The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett are far more Jon Favreau's shows. The Bad Batch is Brad Rau and Jennifer Corbett. Resistance was developed by him, but was run by other producers. It's just that Filoni tends to get the most camera time and has become the face of Star Wars creators. That said, the issue with Filoni is kind of two-pronged, though, they overlap. 1. He's done a lot of interviews where he's said a lot of anti-Jedi things that have drifted from reasonable critiques in the beginning to eventually "Qui-Gon Jinn was the only true Jedi. [blatantly wrong citations]" This has put a lot of people off him as a creator, because we love the Jedi Order that Lucas talks about and established, which Filoni has actively contradicted over the years, despite being promoted as someone who follows Lucas' themes. And it's hard not to be aware of his interviews when watching his shows and it's hard to enjoy shows that do your faves dirty, you know? 2. His writing has become weaker over the years for a lot of us--Rebels is a show most of us love and found to be incredible. Many of us really love The Clone Wars, which he was heavily involved in/was probably the central voice after Lucas started phasing out. But his biggest story told over the course of those series--basically, the story of Mandalore's history and fall to the Empire--has been extremely thin for a lot of us. And a lot of us get frustrated at his inability to be objective when it comes to Ahsoka's character, that we love her as a character very much, but it hasn't felt like Filoni really knows what to do with her character arc and yet almost everything he writes is centered around her. His final season of The Clone Wars? Gave her the walkabout arc and the Siege of Mandalore arc, both of which often did not hold up well under scrutiny. His episode of The Book of Boba Fett? I actually really loved it, but it absolutely just stopped the pacing of that show to focus a lot on her. More on Luke, but he couldn't resist putting her in there, either. Tales of the Jedi was half devoted to Ahsoka and so much of it wasn't even about her time as a Jedi! We're frustrated because he doesn't set things up well anymore--Morgan Elsbeth is a Nightsister?? Why wasn't that established in The Mandalorian instead of pulling out randomly in Ahsoka? Why does Sabine Wren suddenly so badly want Jedi training, when they barely even had a conversation in Rebels?? There's a lot of good that Filoni has given to Star Wars, I think he genuinely cares about the Force and what it means--he's very consistent on how it's not easy and how it takes discipline and control, that he has been consistent on how anger and fear are paths to the dark side, even his episode of TBOBF had Ahsoka saying, yeah, attachment is a path to the dark side, because the Jedi mean "attachment" in a more Buddhist-aligned way. A lot of his writing for the character of Ahsoka is actually pretty good, like I've been enjoying her being a prickly, traumatized hot mess in the show! It's just that I kind of hate all the interviews he gives and I think he's a lot less objective than a lot of fans and media coverage that would hold him up as a perfect writer/interviewee about all things Star Wars, and it all comes together to make him kind of a hot-button topic.

So, a lot of people LOVE Filoni's work, a lot of people are frustrated by it, a lot of people are casually fine about it, a lot of people HATE Filoni's work and it can be a fun mix of any of the above or even other issues that come up. (And that's all fine! I have my views on Filoni's work, but it's fine if others hate it more than I do or love it more than I do, there's room for us all, all of it is valid.)

But I think if you want to understand some of the roots of this corner of fandom's frustration, two (admittedly long as heck) homework assignment reads would be:

- My own rebuttal to Dave's behind the scenes Mandalorian Gallery talk (this is jokingly referred to as "Davegate" because I refused to take it too seriously) - @david-talks-sw's collection of comparisons between Lucas' commentary on the Jedi and Filoni's commentary on the Jedi

This response itself is more focused on laying out the problems a lot of people have with Filoni's writing, but also honestly I still have my giant collection of Jedi source material citations that quotes his commentary, I still bring up Filoni's quotes in current meta a lot, I still talk positively about the things I enjoy from his shows, so overall there's equal amounts of both praise and criticism here. So, as short as I can make it (which isn't very, shut up, I know! XD), that's basically what people mean when they say they're wary of Filoni.

[notdotspot]

Dp x Dc Phys 3001

Masterpost

This has been one of the longest nights in Tim’s whole life. Yes, he did recently stay awake for approximately seventy-two hours, but his brain was led by routine. He could function at the lowest amount to stay awake while still completing tasks. Tonight is different. He is constantly processing and analyzing Phantom’s every move. Jason may be an asshole, but he is still his brother. Aside from the intent watching, Tim did not realize how emotionally charged curing Jason would be. He should have known. He remembers how Bruce and Dick acted following Jason’s death. 

Casual physical contact is not out of the ordinary for their family. Fighting excluded, his siblings never minded squishing onto one coach, but the hug Dick pulled Jason into was different. Jason seemed totally relaxed and at home in his big brother’s arms. Tim used to see them close like this at galas and high-class events when they were younger. Jason picks his head up to Bruce, inviting him in. It did not take much for the rest of the family to descend upon Jason in a dog-pile of a group hug, Tim included. 

Released from their grip, Jason yawns loudly, “I see what you mean by exhaustion. I could sleep standing up.” 

Danny gave him a small smile, responding, “Yeah. You need some rest and there may still be more side effects. Be careful.” 

“I think all of you need some rest,” Bruce says. He is ushering Jason toward the elevator. Before they reach the door, Bruce turns around again. Tim can see the look in his eyes before he utters a word.

“Phantom. Uh, Danny. Do you have somewhere to sleep? Alfred could set up a guest room.”

“No need. I have an apartment.” 

“But it is two in the morning. Crime Alley is across the city.”

“Thank you. I do appreciate the offer but I am more comfortable there.”

“Well, let Alfred drive you. You must be tired.” Tim held himself back from shaking his head in disapproval. Bruce was trying to adopt another kid right in front of their faces. 

“I travel just below the speed of light.” Danny seemed to know what Bruce was doing. Tim almost laughed at the startled look on his dad’s face. Take that old man. 

“I will be back tomorrow to discuss blueprints for the purifier. Bye!” Then Danny disappeared into thin air. Bruce seemed to realize he was not gaining another child tonight and entered the elevator. Tim was so tired a second ago, but now he is awake with thoughts thrumming through his brain. 

He had almost been too caught up to notice some of the odd things Danny had said. Who is Frostbite? Who are the other colleagues he mentioned at the Bat Burger? Are those the people watching his back? What did Danny mean when he said Jason’s hair was something he had seen before? Why did he need the special blade? Who is Danny? Is he more than just a ghost? How powerful is he? Tim had so many questions. He could not lay in his bed. He had to get answers, so he crept down to the Batcomputer and began his research. 

He should not have been surprised how easy it was to find Danny. One online search of apartment leases under the name Danny and he got three hits in Crime Alley. Danny Fenton was the name. Tim could have laughed. Phantom and Fenton. He would have to be blind not to connect the dots. With a first and last name, finding the rest was child’s play. Danny Fenton is a student at Gotham University majoring in astrophysics and a minor in engineering. Tim even found his class schedule.

Wait. A college student? Danny did not look a day over thirteen. Double wait. How does Danny Fenton exist? Is he not dead? After a little more digging, Tim found Danny’s high school transcript and birth certificate. They almost looked real. Almost. Danny Fenton is a fake persona. Unfortunately for Tim, that means no social media or background to look into. The only place he can guarantee finding Danny Fenton is at his physics lecture in Garrett Hall at eight in the morning. Shit. That is in three hours. 

“Better get some sleep. Wow. Never thought I would say that.” Tim yawned, logging off of the Batcomputer and shuffling all the way back to his room.

✩✩✩

Finding the lecture hall was easy, but Tim could not recall the room number for the life of him. He spent the first fifteen minutes of investigation time looking for the class. 

“Do you need some help? All these rooms look the same,” a girl giggles. 

“Yes. I am looking for Physics three thousand one.”

“Second floor, first hallway. Room two-ten.”

“Thanks.” He rushed up the stairs two at a time. Turned left in the first hallway and walked to the end. He silently opened the door and sat in the back row, pulling out a notebook and taking notes to blend in. He should have gotten more sleep because the dark room, lit only by the soft glow of a projector, and the monotonous tone of the professor lulled him right to sleep.

“Tim.” He jolted awake. The lights that had been turned on burned his eyes and he could feel the imprint of his spiral notebook in his face. 

“Of course, you had to track me down. Come on. I need to grab food before my next lecture. You are paying.” Tim blinked the tiredness out of his eyes. He got up to follow Danny with haste. This Danny was different. Taller with brown hair and blue eyes. Tim realizes they look around the same age.

“I have seen you before. At the Bat Burger.” 

“Yeah. You were in my favorite seat, so I left.” Danny’s voice displays his clear annoyance.

“If I were not so pissed at you, I would probably be impressed, but I guess all of you Bats are little detectives.”

“Sh!”

“Oh, so secret identities only matter when it is you and your family?” Tim panics. Danny is right. He violated the unspoken code of heroes.

“But, I am an unknown, right? Dangerous? Even after I helped Jason and cooperated with the Lazarus Pit plans?”

“Okay! I am sorry. What I did was wrong. I got caught up in theories and research. I am sorry.” Danny grabbed a sandwich and drink from the cooler and went to the register. The worker scanned the items, and he stepped to the side motioning to the card reader. Tim took out his wallet, handing a ten-dollar bill off. He grabbed Danny’s food and walked to a table, not stopping to grab his change. Danny sat across from him to start eating.

“So, why do you look so old or should I say so young as Phantom?”

“Right to the questions, huh?”

“Sorry. You do not have to answer if you do not want to.” Danny appraised him while chewing on his sandwich. 

“It is fine. Phantom is only the ghost half of me. Well, more like three-quarters of me. The rest is human.” 

“How are you a human and a ghost?”

“Poor parenting and a lab accident,” he says, sipping his drink. Tim is shocked by his casual nature. 

“How old are you really?”

“Depends. My human side only ages in human realms, making me about nineteen, but I have been alive far longer than that. A millennia? Give or take a few decades.”

“A thousand years? How come Phantom looks thirteen?”

“Fourteen, actually. Ghosts look the way they did when they died, minus an odd circumstance here and there.”

“That is why you talked to Jason about death like you knew it personally.”

“I do.” He whips his hands of crumbs, slings his backpack over his shoulder, and grabs his drink.

“I also have another class. Throw my trash for me. See you tonight and get more sleep. You are useless to me if you are too tired to read a blueprint.”

✩✩✩

Danny landed on the doorstep of Wayne Manor, letting the white rings of his transformation reveal his civilian clothes. He rang the doorbell and waited for an answer. Alfred answered the door politely.

“Hello, may I help you with anything?” Danny thought Alfred would recognize him as a human but it seems he was wrong.

“Um. I am here to see Tim.” Tim would be the only one to recognize him. Does he look that different? Just then, Steph was passing through the foyer.

“Who is here, Alfred?” Her head peaked past the butler. Her eyes lit up seeing him.

“Oh my god! The cute guy from the Bat Burger! Come in! We can go find Tim together.” She interlocks their arms to lead him into the mansion. This mansion has much more style than Vlad’s. Less dingy too. 

“How do you know I am here to see Tim?” She gives him a sidelong look, her smile widening further. Danny blushes at the implication and she giggles. She pushes open the door leading him into a room. 

“Tim,” she sing-songs.

“Steph, I am busy with WE reports. Can you wait a moment?”

“Someone is here to see you,” she responds, dragging out the end of her sentence in a teasing manner. Tim’s head turns slowly, his eyes still tracking his laptop screen as he types. When his eyes finally snap to Danny, they widen and he flips back around to his screen. Steph holds in a laugh as he vigorously types. Quickly finishing his report, he shuts down and closes the computer. Popping up from his chair, Tim puts on his best smile and strides over to him.

“Danny. I will show you to the cave.” He can see Steph’s demeanor change in an instant. She turns Danny to face her, examining his face.

“Danny? You look human. How did you age overnight?”

“Uh.”

“Steph, leave him alone. He can explain later. Right now, we can bring him to the cave. Bruce is probably already down there waiting for Phantom to show up. Why did you use the front door?” 

“I figured you had already told them about my identity. Either way, I know all of yours, so it is only fair.” They seem to take his answer, and Tim opens the door for him to exit the room. The journey down to the cave was longer than he expected. Getting to the elevator shaft and riding down probably took close to ten minutes.

“Is there not a more efficient way to get to the Batcave?”

“We have thought of other options but this one is good enough for the time being. Secure too.”

“Plus, B rejected Dick’s idea to add a firepole,” Steph tacks on. She leads the group into the main area Danny was in last night. He never did get the time to admire the Batcomputer for the glorious machinery it is. He would love to see its capabilities. 

Jason is parking his bike and removing his red helmet when they walk in. 

“Is Danny here, yet?”

“Yep,” Danny speaks up. Bruce finally turns to see the group walking toward him.

“Oh, I thought it was just Steph and Tim.” He can tell Bruce is taking in the change in appearance.

“Danny,” Jason calls, “You look significantly less ghost-like.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“Danny is your real name, then?”

“Yeah, so is Phantom. Are we going to get to work?”

“Yes,” Bruce speaks up. “Tell us the plan.”

Danny slipped the backpack off of his shoulder and pulled out a binder. Laying it on the table in the middle of the room, he takes out each blueprint to unfold them. 

“There are multiple components to my plan. This,” he points to a paper, “is the design for the ectoplasm purifier.” He bends down to his bag again. He produces a gadget that looks like the sketch.

“I made a prototype and tested it on a few samples I had in the fridge.” Bruce gives him a look.

“In the fridge?”

“Yeah, it is like an energy drink. I stock up once a month. Caffeine is insufficient and I have homework to get done.”

“Homework?”

“Tim, really did not tell you?”

“Danny, here, is a student at Gotham University,” Tim states.

“Yes, where Tim so gratuitously tracked me down this morning,” Danny quips. Tim looks embarrassed with his family's eyes on him.

“I said sorry.”

“And bought me lunch. Oh, before you ask, yes. I am older than fourteen. My ghost form just looks that way.”

“You are a human and a ghost? Like Jason?” Steph’s genuine curiosity stops Danny from yelling angrily at getting off track. He forgot these people do not know the ghost world or him. He has never had to answer this many questions about himself since Jazz found out he was Phantom. It is a solemn thought that makes him miss her even more. He has had centuries to mourn, likely more with the Ghost Zone to human realm time difference, but he just misses his big sister. Steph’s enthusiasm reminds him of her. He signs, resigning to the fact that he will have to explain himself. 

“I am a Halfa. Half human and half ghost. I would not say it is half, more like a quarter human. Jason and I are not the same. I died under entirely different circumstances.” He could feel the looks of pity burning into him. One part of him hates it, but the other part of him is grateful for the understanding. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz took a long time to realize he was only Phantom because he had died in the accident. Truthfully, he was so caught up in fighting ghosts that he almost did not realize it himself. 

“I am okay. I have had many years to come to terms with it. Let us get back to this.” He pointed at the table. Their attention was back on the project, but he would still sense their sad eyes. Jason especially looked heartbroken. Maybe he was realizing why Danny knew how to comfort him. 

“The prototype was effective, but we will need to scale it up. The next problem to solve is getting the processed ectoplasm into the Ghost Zone. There are only three ways to access the Ghost Zone: occasionally successful summoning rituals, naturally occurring rips, or a homemade ghost portal. It would take too long to find a ritual that actually works, so that is out. Finding natural portals is next to impossible without the Infi-Map. I will not endanger it by bringing it here, nor would the rip last long enough to complete the mission. A mechanical ghost portal is the best option, but once you open it, it is a two-way street. We could make an off-switch, but even a few seconds is enough for ghosts to slip through. I have not figured out a way to get around that. My only idea would be magic.”

“We can Zeta in some magic users. They may have the knowledge to assist you on the more ghostly aspects.”

“Thank you, Bruce.” 

“Well, later nerds. All this shit goes right over my head. Call me if you need to change a tire.” Jason turns to the elevator.

“I will go to. I am useless when it comes to this.” Steph jogs off the catch Jason, waving as the elevator door closes.

“Where is the blueprint for the ghost portal?” Tim inquires as he flips through the pages on the table.

“Up here.” Danny points to his head. “That knowledge is far more powerful than you think it is. I trust you, but not that much. It is my responsibility to keep the Ghost Zone safe.”

“But-”

“Tim,” Bruce cuts him off, “you can work on the purifier instead. Danny, can you build the portal from memory?”

“Yes.”

“I will go make some calls. When do you think it will be done?”

“A few days if I have all of the materials and work long hours.”

“And, I can finish the purifier quickly too. The blueprint is well drawn, and with the prototype, I should have no problem recreating the effectiveness.”

“I will leave you two to work.” Bruce turned, pulling his phone from his pocket, walking off to make his calls. 

Tim gives Danny a quick tour of the equipment and tools.

“How much space will you need?”

“I should be able to build the portal here. I will make it as small as I can while preserving functionality.”

“What is so dangerous about it anyway? Aside from opening a gateway for enemies. You seem a lot more scared of this thing than you are telling us.”

“It is unstable. I have tried to fix other versions of it, but I can never guarantee the safety of the operator. You guys are mortal and this portal has consequences I would never wish upon anyone. My parents were reckless. I can not be responsible for an accident.”

“That is what you meant when you said poor parenting and a lab accident. A ghost portal is what made you Phantom.”

“I have to hand it to you. You are sharp. Get to work. It will take you at least a few hours to construct the filter.”

For once, Tim got the hint to stop pushing into Danny’s past. They both descend into their work silently. Working well into the night before Tim yawns.

“Go get some sleep. You have made good progress.”

“Do you not need sleep?”

“Not really no. Do you want to head upstairs, or should I just put you to sleep? I have to warn you. Your neck will be sore if I knock you out in the chair like that.” Tim’s eyes widen.

“Is that something you are capable of?”

“Do you want to find out?” Danny raised a hand, making it glow green. Tim shoots up and walks to the elevator. Danny watches as the doors begin to close.

“Goodnight, Tim.” Tim smiles and opens his mouth to respond, but the closing doors cut him off. 

As his alarm rings, Danny is proud of himself. He got the whole frame built. All he has left is the wiring and the ectoplasm circulation system. The elevator door opens behind him. He turns to see Dick strolling in. He is dressed in workout gear with a protein shake, humming a tune. He stops in his tracks when he notices Danny. 

“Who are you? Better yet, how did you get in here?”

“Dick. I am Danny. I am also going to be late for class, so bye.” He transforms into Phantom right in front of Dick. If it were not for his enhanced senses, he would not have heard Dick’s shocked whisper.

“Woah.” 

Then, he is shooting off to his Astronomy class. 

-----

more romance coming eventually

aside from that, this is the first chapter I actually proofread

Thanks for reading!

[babybearnation]

yuki and gn!reader where they are both sighted but they ignore it bc they think the other doesn't like them (like rivals to lovers)

oli, i fucking love this idea

red sighted!yuki tsunoda x red sighted!rival!f1 driver!gn!reader

cw: arguing, miscommunication, crying, suggestive ending

you and yuki met back when you were kids and therefore your red sight hadn't fully developed yet

what developed instead, however, was your rivalry

you and yuki raced together in every league from karting all the way up to formula 1 and your rivalry never once ended

in fact, once you both developed red sight and realised you were each other's soulmates, you both seemed to dislike each other even more

whilst you never outright hated yuki, you were positive he loathed you

you sometimes found yourself thinking he was cute, and a little bit charming, but his temper and the way he treated you on track made those feelings quickly fizzle away each time they appeared

when you get to the big world of formula one and fellow red sighted drivers like esteban, pierre, max & alex notice the string connecting you two, they assume the rivalry is simply playful fun and that you two are a happy couple

until an actual argument within your rookie seasons ends with yuki telling you that he wishes he wasn't soulmates with you and you end up bursting into tears

because really.. you do kind of like him?

the yuki you see interacting with pierre and max and liam is so sweet and kind, but the yuki that interacts with you is so different

but you cant separate them in your brain and now you're really torn

obviously, all the other drivers are confused because what the fuck but when you shakily explain everything to them, they soon send pierre off to speak to yuki

it doesn't work

you two spend a couple more years fighting on track and denying your connection before you're signed to join vcarb alongside yuki for the 2024 season

you and yuki end up having another argument that ends with u tearfully screaming that you like him and you just want to know what you did wrong to make him hate you

at this, yuki expresses complete and utter confusion

you see, yuki thought you hated him because you always tugged at your soulmate string like you were trynna tear it off

so he started to reject the idea of ever being with you

he spent ages researching if soulmates had ever been unhappy with each other, but he found nothing, so even when he thought you hated him, he still found himself falling for you

yuki even explains that, as silly as it sounds, he thought this rivalry had turned so bitter because you hated him for being your soulmate

after much, much explaining, the two of you realise that you'd just been accidentally feeding each other's delusions

yuki never hated you - he found you so incredible and inspiring and he really looked up to you as a fellow racer - but he assumed you hated him because you'd always complain about fighting him on the radio, so he started acting bitter in retaliation

in reality, you thought he hated and targeted you on track, so that's why you complained on the radio - you admired his strength and adversity in the face of red bull's bs and wished you could give him what he deserved

despite that, you were both so hurt that neither of you could quite jump straight from rivals into being lovers

you needed to learn to be friends and co-operative teammates first

so you two slowly learn how to work together over the course of the 2024 season, working through years of communication issues to finally nip all nasty feelings in the bud

it all comes to a head when, after the signing of liam to red bull for 2025, yuki comes to you for comfort, crying

you'd never seen him cry before so you were shocked but you quickly pull him in and calm him down and just when you think he's gonna make you promise not tell anyone and that you should get lost or something, he doesn't

instead, he leans up to kiss you, pulling back just as fast

you pull him back in though, kissing him softly before it turns passionate

when you and yuki are finished, curled up in your bed after your shared shower, yuki shyly asks you to be his

even though you're both red sighted, you wrap your right pinkie around his left middle finger and kiss the back of his hand

"'m all yours, yuki"

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[tuttle-did-it]

I've said this before, here's the problem. Sub Rosa and Threshold are in a different category than Move Along Home.

I would argue that Threshold is actually much better than Sub Rosa because there is progress for Tom's character development and it's really only the last 10 or so minutes where it goes off the rails.

And Sub Rosa... well, zero character development for the granny ghost sex candle. Just a terrible and silly attempt at a Gothic storyline that does not at all work. great.

Sub Rosa and Threshold-- for all their faults-- are entertaining. They're absurd-- awful. Huge mistakes. But still, entertaining and silly and fun. So they are worth celebrating for their sheer silliness factor.

Move Along home-- with all its faults-- is boring.

Threshold, I can feel Robbie Duncan McNeil's JOY at actually getting to do anything but sit there saying 'yes, ma'am.' At actually getting to show some acting ability, of getting to show some character development. He showed the fuck up to work, he's going to do the best he can. Yes, even if he's just shouting 'Pepperoni'.

Sub Rosa, as truly awful as the entire script is, Gates does give her heart to it. She goes all in. She is one of the most criminally under-used actors in the entire show, and for some reason, on the rare occasion she was given a plot, it seemed to mostly be Gothic storylines. Gothic stories, by their nature, are absurd- and very often terrible. But Gates finally gets an episode completely focussed on her, and dammit, she's gonna show the fuck up to work. She's going to give her best. Even if it's... *checks notes*... having an orgasm to her grandmother's... candle. Righty ho, then.

The performances in these terrible episodes *almost* make up for the absurd storylines. For all the stories' flaws, Robbie and Gates really TRY to make these episodes good, and they TRY to give their best. The performances and absurdity makes the episodes worth watching. I mean, granny ghost sex candle? de/evolving into salamander creatures and babies in three minutes, and then totally fine ten minutes later? Sure. Why the fuck not.

Awful, silly stories + truly invested actors who are trying to do their best? = entertaining.

Move Along Home is just... boring. I adore Armin Shimerman, but I couldn't care less about the aliens and Quark's storyline. The hopscotch and games are just... they're dumb. But what's worse is they are BORING.

I say this with true affection for the actors on DS9-- they ALL seemed miserable in this episode. I would and do happily argue that DS9 has the best actors, they have the best episodes of all of Trek history. These actors are wonderful, professional, and they work hard to make this world feel real.

Except for this episode. I can feel Armin thinking 'well, it's fine, at least I'm on the Buffy set tomorrow. It's fine. Say your lines, get paid, go home. You have a mortgage.' I can feel Terry wondering if she should go back to New York and just do modelling. I can feel Avery Brooks questioning every life choice he has ever made and telling himself to go back to teaching at a university. Nana and Sid have completely checked out and are obviously thinking about their taxes or something. They all feel like they would rather be ANYWHERE else. I love all of these actors, but they were NOT there that week. And I don't blame them.

Result? BORING story + completely un-invested actors who clearly wish they were not there and are just hoping the cameras don't catch their eye-rolls?= Snooze.

For the exception of two moments-- the dumb Alamaraine hop-scotch and Bashir's weird standing up screaming moment? the whole episode is incredibly boring. And those 45 seconds out of the entire 44 minute episode? It's NOT enough for me to forgive how absolutely BORING the whole episode is.

I can forgive bad writing, I can forgive absurd, silly stories and granny ghost sex candles and baby salamander things.

Threshold and Sub Rosa are awful-- AWFUL. But delightfully silly, with actors who are giving themselves over despite the awful sillyness. Threshold has become a holiday because the fans can feel the JOY that Robbie brought to this episode.

Move Along Home is BORING. It is not delightfully silly, it's just DULL. And the actors have all checked out because they don't fucking care. There is NO joy, there. There is nothing to celebrate because nothing happens.

Move Along Home does NOT deserve the same celebrations Threshold or Sub Rosa do.

I can forgive BAD. I can forgive absurd.

I cannot forgive boring.

Move Along Home first aired on March 14th 1993

I propose that since we have Threshold Day for Voyager we should have Allamaraine Day for DS9

This day we shall all post of Julian's noncommittal screaming, Sisko and Kira being nice to Dax, Dax sensually feeding Kira the antidote, everyone dunking on Bashir and Quark and Odo playing snakes and ladders for the lives of the senior staff.

See you on March 14th if you wish to participate

I believe you may be interested @planetlongjourney

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

As I’m writing my responses for the character asks, I think it’s about time I did somewhat of a character ramble on Cold.

(At least, my personal reading of him. I may be wrong about him, since he’s the one who had given me the most trouble[due to how emotional I am as a person]. Or maybe you can see this as a different perspective? Feel free to add more or correct me though.)

(This will be long though (and really messy), so I’m putting a cut here)

One thing that I feel is important to Cold’s character is that he is not completely emotionless. Emotionally suppressed, yes, but not completely emotionless.

I personally think it’s more accurate to describe Cold as “being detached” than “emotionless”. He can feel emotions and care for the other voices(in his own way), as you can see in routes like Moment of Clarity where he attempts to teach the voices to be unfeeling(and later feeling frustrated about not being about to help them numb it down) and in PatD, where he had acknowledged that he had missed “The Decider” and showed annoyance towards Oppy in his lack of ability to commit to his choices.

The most notable example of him showing emotion is his hostility towards the Narrator, which is quite a feat to be made since Cold really doesn’t seem to hate any of the voices. Annoyed, sure, but he doesn’t seem to dislike any of them.

His interest towards Anger

For a voice claiming to be unfeeling, he sure is attracted to the emotion of anger and prodding the one who’s angry to inflict it on him.

One thing I’ve noticed about him is that he would often push a person to act acts of violence on him, specifically those who had lost their sense of purpose and are furious about it. Three clear examples I can think of at the top of my head are Stubborn, Smitten, and Fury. All three of them are furious, or at least feeling really crummy about losing their purpose.

Stubborn, as his purpose was to enjoy a fight with the Princess and win against her, or just to fight her for the rest of eternity.

Smitten, as his purpose was to be the knight in shining armour for Damsel and save her from her prison.

As for Fury, depending on the route you get her from, was given a purpose by you. She is to be the Adversary that could handle your every punch, or the Tower who is destined to end to world.

And yet, because of your choices, their purpose have been taken away from them.

What is an Adversary without her opponent? What is a God without a believer?

Out of all the emotions for Cold to choose and take an interest towards, why anger?

Anger is one of the most intense emotions to ever be felt. But at the same time, it comes from a place of hurt and vulnerability. Your heart.

In Wraith, Cold’s more spiteful side is amplified when you had paired him up with Cheated, with the both of them ganging up on the Narrator and had decided that they don’t want to listen to the Narrator anymore and would much rather free the Princess. In many of the routes featuring Cold, he is shown to be opposing Narry in every way, and would do anything to annoy and piss the Narrator off just to spite him. Unlike how he provokes the voices, which is for his own amusement, he genuinely hates the Narrator.

Which makes me wonder if that’s the emotion Cold felt before you stabbed yourself—anger and betrayal. But before those emotions were settled fully, it was quickly gone away with a stab in the heart. Perhaps a part of him wants to feel that same anger again? Because that was the first ever emotion he had ever felt before it was quickly taken away from him and was replaced with that numbness? Or perhaps, he seeks understanding from the others?

Cold and Purpose

Cold is unique in a way where he really isn’t active at all when compared to the other voices. He’s even more passive than Broken. He has no goals, no ambition, no drive to do anything. In fact, he’s really more of a spectator. He isn’t a knight to come save a damsel in distress, or a broken soul seeking refuge in a god, or an unfortunate guy getting screwed over by the world around him and seeks justice. He’s just here to watch.

After all, he had already fulfilled his purpose a long time ago in chapter one. And at the end, that purpose meant nothing at all, as he is discarded like a used tool after his purpose had been fulfilled. There is no point doing anything else but to watch. All he could do now is to encourage you to do literally anything that isn’t nothing.

(That also explains why he’s so angry at you in the everyone hates you ending, since you have discarded him and the other voices carelessly like tools you could use. In his eyes, you are being just like the Narrator. He’s got abandonment issues I feel.)

In conclusion???

I… don’t really have a good conclusion to this. I really just wanted to put my thoughts regarding Cold as a character and then share it.

Cold is an intriguing character to say the least, with him having many contradictions and yet coming together perfectly to create him. He is playful as much as he is tragic. He is unfeeling and yet he cares anyway despite the fact that he really didn’t have to. He is rooted in the present, but longs for something that had already been lost in the past. He holds grudges as much as he is easygoing.

He prides himself in having the ability to distance himself from the pain and doubt in order to get the job done. And yet in the end, he yearns to feel again.

There is a warmth underneath his unfeeling skin. You just have to really dig for it.

[mangionebabymama]

hey there! it’s “lulu feels too hard” anon back with another mini rant (not really a rant, more like an observation haha)

It’s in the same vein of him feeling emotions hard, but i think one thing that needs to be emphasized in this dynamic is how much he’s tried to subdue his emotions – and i don’t just mean recently. in many clips from his prep school days, like when he’s getting an award for example, you can see him smiling like a bit, but then cutting back to this neutral expression. Funny enough, it’s his eyebrows that always give him away loool. It’s similar to how he acts in the court hearing, full of expression, but then immediately goes back to a stoic, neutral expression. There’s even moments like this in some of the clips from Hawaii.

I guess my point is, how much was he taught to mask his emotions, and put up a front. It seems to me that he was brought up in a collective environment where the saying goes “always put your best foot forward, regardless of the circumstance”. I can understand this, coming from a family with similar values of “you represent the family name, your success is our success.”

i think though, that this seems to be what makes lulu resonate with so many of us: he’s empathetic, despite trying to be stoic. There’s a duality about him – the confident Ivy League scholar and the vulnerable, empathetic people pleasing boy who seeks affirmation one way or another.

but I think under this guise of putting your best foot forward, combined with a sense of always showing your masculinity that many guys of that age are pressured to do (and let’s not forget that for most of his schooling he attended an all boys school so there is that sort of “our boys” culture that’s pervasive in these realms), he had to hide the other part of him which felt so deeply, so hard.

it reminds me of one of his Reddit posts talking about his issues with Brain Fog, and how he initially never thought to talk about it with his friends, and instead masked it under this idea of “oh well, marks don’t matter for computer science majors” even though he was hurting and feeling so disappointed in himself to the point of contemplating dropping out. But the part that sticks out to me the most is what he said after in the post about even if you do end up telling them, if you wait too long, it’s almost like they won’t believe you (or something along those lines). And idk, that’s just such a heartbreaking way to think and it makes me sad for him. He internalized so much it seems. And truthfully, I’m not blaming anyone in his circle (family/friends) because I think part of it was also lulu never wanting to seem weak, which unfortunately clouded his vision of seeing that there were people who probably may have wanted to help. It’s just an all around sad circumstance :(

Sorry for the long write up, don’t feel like you need to provide a long response too! (haha i guess in some ways, i relate to lulu too :)

No, no, please don’t apologize for writing this, you captured this so well! 🥺 I wish I had more to add on, but you literally took all the words out of mine and emphasized on this beautifully.

I also think there’s that duality of having an internal vs. external struggle, where he could easily show and offer empathy towards others like it was nothing, but when it came to himself, it was a completely different story to extend grace. I know he had to internalize a lot, and the physical exertion of carrying all that weight on him had to have shown. I remember somebody mentioning how when he’s in deep thought in some photos, you see all the lines on his forehead—and there’s a lot of them, and once you notice them all crinkled, you’ll never not look at them in other photos. So, he literally has/had so much on his mind.

Reading that part of about his brain fog, about the irony of opening up too soon to your friends, fucked me up, to be truthful. I similarity dealt with this about two years ago, when I experienced two close familial deaths within a month before I started my senior year of college, and I was grieving hard. So many people that I know looked at me and considering my bereavement with the “strong Black woman” trope because I do have a strong personality, and I’ve experienced a lot of hardship in my life, so some felt like that I was gonna be alright, regardless, and kind of brushed off my grief like, “Oh, she’ll be alright, you’ve always managed to go through things” but no, lol. It’s the reality that I think, that many of the “strongest” friends in the group more often than not, face, surprisingly, contrary to belief—it happens all the time. When you’re commended to be a strong, resilient person, people don’t consider you to be weak, as in, you can’t persevere through struggles, but if you do, you’ll be fine, and the suffering won’t take much of an effect on you. But, like anyone else in this world, it still hurts, and it’s still acceptable to just give yourself the space to say that it sucks, and it hurts to be hurting. It’s sort of like, you have that universal perception of what it means to be hurt, but you can’t express that you’re hurt in the same breath.

[postcardsfromheapside]

So I finished my DA2 replay, and I had wondered if I would feel differently after taking my time with it, and with the perspective of Veilguard. And yes, in small ways I do, but about the series and about Anders, I don't. That is to say: I think Veilguard is a fucking fantastic capper to the series (I mean, pray there is more, "hope for the best, expect the worst" as the Mel Brooks song goes), and Anders is relatably angry, even if the "betrayal" is frustrating and heart-breaking.

Also, there's just too much Dragon Age just the same way there's too much Tolkien, it's just that I can relisten to Tolkien via audiobook while I work and don't have time to constantly replay Dragon Age to absorb every little detail that my broken brain forgets (and I'm pretty good with lore) and I wish parts of this fandom were more curious than scathing about things they've obviously forgotten. Or skipped through, according to some of them, because I guess the context of dialogue and a cut scene isn't necessary for some of them to weigh in on things.

Word vomit of notes below the break:

First of all.

Can these two just fuck already. Watching Cassandra go from throwing him around to absolutely ENTHRALLED by Varric's complete bullshit is just going to make it so much better when I hit the "Guilty Pleasures" quest again in DA:I. This woman is SEDUCED by his story-telling, and you *cannot* convince me he wasn't gagging on his power trip.

Second.

I never played Mark of the Assassin before, and had completely forgotten Felicia Day was in DA2, and laughed like hell. I really enjoyed it. I haven't really used a stealth option in a game since leaving Skyrim for other stuff (do we ever really leave Skyrim?) and it was really fun, but I think the wyvern at the end of the DLC was actually the best fight in the entire game, even more than Corypheus. It hinted at the dragon battles to come in Veilguard. Also, I loved how Anders' dialogue got more relaxed outside of Kirkwall, like shedding the city let him loosen up. The back and forth with Hawke about his fantasy for being rescued was completely unhinged - after I accused Hawke of being feral and lacking social graces, I've decided the two of them match each other's freak and they're fine.

Third.

All the people who were losing their minds about the line "A crow never abandons a contract" and acting like the devs forgot Zevran.

He literally addresses it in the game. I keep having these moments where shit that people bitched about regarding Veilguard is addressed right *there.*

"The crows do like saying that, but I am living proof it's a lie."

No one actually forgot, but I'm sure the Dellamorte's wish to the Maker a motherfucker could.

When people complain the writing in Veilguard is too modern, I'm going to remember Hawke complaining exactly like this. She sounds like I do when I'm side-eyeing my friends in the year of our Maker 2025.

Fourth.

I had planned on romancing Blackwall this DA:I run, finally, because I'm a little obsessed with this Warden throughline from Anders to Blackwall to Davrin. From a cage, to hope/redemption, to a more meaningful path of positive change and impact.

They both haunt Veilguard's narrative and dialogue.

And then of course:

hrm.

Fifth.

I do hope we get another DA. Or supplementary material. Because I want to know what the fuck is going on with this story I had forgotten the details of, especially with the decision regarding the Nadas Dirthalen.

These two fucking idiots. I can't believe in different lives I've schtupped them both. (I can absolutely believe it)

Sixth.

The worst part of Meredith is she sounds like conservative family members of mine. 'Better to punish the innocent than risk even one guilty person go free', rather than the opposite. To them it sounds so reasonable. To us, it's abhorrent to punish everyone else for other people's crimes.

I couldn't bring myself to feel betrayed by Anders, even though I tried to play my Hawke as I think she would have felt: betrayed by the secret-keeping, if nothing else. The shock and hurt at the innocent lives. But it's hard not to feel an understanding when I sit here in a political situation with - maybe not less fraught, but at least less fantastical - implications and certainly still feel like violence is inevitable and we are way past the point of compromise and words.

Anyway.

This dwarf.

[theiaphage]

This is a really well worded post and I generally agree! However, I think I got another angle of this same conclusion based on the idea that Amy's original redemption arc never really concluded only to backslide -- rather, that her expectations about redemption fundamentally change what that redemption arc means in-text

Like you say, it absolutely falls well within the typical narrative-trope parameters of the expected 'redemption arc,' she hits all the core points -- but, like with a lot of tropes related to pain, trauma, healing, forgiveness and so on, the typical narrative portrayal isn't often a realistic one. In that way I think Amy acts as both a good example and, with further context, a deconstruction of the redemption arc, because under further examination a lot of the arc itself isn't necessarily as positive as it first came off. In so many of her attempts, she's trying to do better according to all she knows when surrounded by the worst influences possible. She doesn't have a solid safe role model, and hasn't for her entire life. Someone to tell her that sometimes you just won't be forgiven, that not every fight ends with a hug and back-to-normal at the end.

In that way, Amy's attempts at doing the right thing in Worm, though absolutely noble in conscious intent, still betray a few of her failings and the places she was failed. Like you say, she really does try to get better, she does the things she may know broadly lead to healing or help or forgiveness, but a lot still ends up being more about her than her efforts.

The tattoo here absolutely stands out to me -- even before Ward went and had her all but explicitly say that the tattoo holds a different meaning now, even in Worm it still seemed imperfect, questionable potentially, but with heart behind it. It was a memorialization of pain and a reminder to do better -- but like so many pieces of art about pain or failure, it could inadvertently romanticize the subject just as much as it condemns it. Amy is, in a very real way, actively working this tragedy into a part of a narrative -- one she tries to use for growth, but ultimately fails in.

I'm trying not to be too harsh on Amy here, but vibes-wise I'm reminded somewhat of something like an ex-boyfriend, leaving flowers at the door of someone who dumped him, or cry-singing a song about how they were a bad boyfriend on the car drive home. Sure, the pain is real, the acknowledgement of failure likely is as well, but at some point the gesture becomes more about the boyfriend's pain than the actual relationship, or even the breakup. In this moment Victoria, a victim who literally cannot speak for herself in this instance, is 'memorialized' in a very real sense, turned into a symbol by a person that already as a base nature of their power and life can feel so disconnected from the humanity of others.

So many of these choices by Amy center her -- her attempted growth, her attempted retribution, her attempted change. It's the kind of thing that in real life really can be done for the right reasons, but can also be done for worse ones -- that ex-boyfriend working out thinking of their ex, getting a job thinking of their ex, hanging a picture of their ex above their bed to motivate them to get up in the morning. Amy's actions aren't even this extreme or pointed, but I view it as them sharing a sort of kernel of trying to do better because they really want (or even need) better in turn -- and thus, Amy's arc in Ward is what happens when the textbook redemption arc doesn't work.

When all those acts of memoriam, distance, betterment, health, are done with the kernel of hope in your mind that it means you'll be forgiven, that it all will be fine again and you can go back to how it was.

And that's why I see her redemption arc as never having completed -- she's trying, she's hitting the right steps, but ultimately at the conclusion of this redemption (which I would argue is a long period of time, starting with Vicky's new body and coming back up again for a while) would come when those attempts were tested, when Victoria refuses to forgive her and she's forced to either accept her betterment without Victoria, or let go of it and keep pushing for her -- she begins to choose the later.

In this way it's less of a backslide and more of a recontextualizing moment. She is backsliding in behavior, but it's not that she got foundationally better and then became foundationally worse again, and more so that she tried to get better, put in real effort, but ultimately failed. This version worked for me because it seems to be what Amy acts like right out of the gate; annoyed that Vicky won't accept her, continually trying to do things 'for' her or based on her happiness when Victoria wants nothing to do with any of that.

These give some context to her past actions, allow you to re-examine Worm in a way that both provides answers and adds a new layer in a way many readers (myself included) missed at first simply because yeah, Amy's arc does have all the pieces of a redemption arc, and it takes Ward to get people thinking about whether or not those pieces add up.

I do want to state to conclude that yeah, her portrayal (and especially the initial choice to tell this story surrounding Amy of all people) has its issues, many major, but the portrayal of someone who falls into toxicity and abuse because they thought they were doing everything right and still didn't get what they wanted out of it; A person who still didn't get that one selfish prize they latched onto in a moment of pain that they tried to be a saint to deserve or make up for wanting? Yeah, that's pretty unique and powerful, and despite its flaws it really hits home as an accurate-to-the-point-of-painfulness portrayal.

Okay, fuck it, I've built up enough goodwill with this sideblog - let's risk it all by sharing my opinions on how Amy is handled in Ward.

It's kinda complicated I think.

Okay, now that I've resisted the urge to immediately hit post for the bit: I think the way her interludes are written substantially flattens her character in a way that I find distasteful and unpleasant, but I find the overall shape of her arc and her role in the narrative compelling. The things I dislike have been well-covered by plenty of other people in the fandom, so I'm going to focus on the things I like.

To talk about Amy's role in Ward, I first need to talk about my interpretation of Ward as a whole. To me, Ward is, above all else, about trauma and recovery. Society is traumatized by the end of the world, the shards are traumatized by the death of Scion and their loss of purpose, individuals are traumatized by all the things individuals are traumatized by. As an aside, this reading is a big reason why I'm not too bothered by a lot of the world building choices that other people frequently (and fairly) criticize - I think many of them serve this theme effectively.

One specific facet of that reading that I find particularly compelling is Ward's interest in people who are traumatized not just by the harm done to them, but by the harm they've done. Characters don't just regret what they've done, they don't just want to be better, they are traumatized by it, and their reactions to that trauma are as messy and complicated as any other traumatized people. I don't always agree with the stances the text takes on how to deal with having done harm and been traumatized as a result, but I find the exploration of the topic compelling.

Enter The Altruistic Amy Dallon.

Amy's arc in Worm was, to a degree, a prototype of this kind of storytelling. She is repeatedly and horrifically traumatized, the actions she eventually takes in response to that experience inflict equally horrific trauma on her victim, and she is further traumatized by her own actions almost to the point of ego death. She removes herself from the environment she was in, begins rebuilding her sense of identity and ethics, and reemerges having grown, prepared to do better going forward and to make reparations for her past actions as best she can. Arc done! It's satisfying and cathartic, and we leave content in the knowledge that the part she's on will take her to better places. It's the quintessential appeal of a redemption arc, and it's a strong example of its type.

There's something people like to say a lot when talking about mental health and personal growth in real life, and that is that progress isn't linear. It's an important truth to understand.

It's rarely true in fiction. Very often, in redemption arcs, in personal growth arcs, after a series of false starts and setbacks, the character reaches a critical point where they resolve their conflict and either overcome it or succumb to it. From that point on, their nature or behavior is fundamentally changed - if they've grown they never relapse past a certain point, or do so only fleetingly, or else never improve past a certain point. This makes sense from a storytelling perspective, but it doesn't map to how growth often works in real life.

In Ward, Amy occupies the very rare narrative position of being who completes her arc of growth and redemption, who crosses that critical threshold of lasting, meaningful change... but backslides anyway, to the point of essentially losing all that progress.

It's an outcome that I find very believable for her, honestly. Her newfound worldview and conviction were forged in the very insular environment of the Birdcage - of course they would be impacted by her new environment. She says at the end of Ward that she had been able to excuse all of her worst behavior because she had convinced herself that she could fix anything - and at the end of Worm, I can see how she would come to think that! She's been pardoned and released from Forever Prison, she overcame her old aversion to brains to create Khepri and thereby saved the world, she's formed a positive relationship with the father she never thought she'd meet, she's receiving love and support from parents she never felt good enough for, she's using her powers to help people in a way that doesn't make her want to die, and she even "fixed" Victoria, when failing to do that before was the final nail in the coffin she just finished clawing her way out of! The sheer number of seemingly impossible things she's accomplished, of apparently irreversible failures she's seemingly put right, is mind boggling! It'd be the easiest thing in the world to let that go to your head!

Her social circle is also a perfect environment to enable her worst tendencies - there's no one left in it whose opinion she trusts that's willing to call her on her shit. Marquis doesn't see anything wrong with her behavior, Carol is trying to make up for a decade of neglect and unwarranted criticism, Mark just wants everybody to get along and be happy, and Riley and Rinke are pretty shaky on this whole human decency thing themselves! With a (not unjustified) pride in how far she'd come, a circle of willing enablers, a complete lack of moderating influences, and a bulletproof get-out-of-moral-culpability-free card, and two years to spiral, I find her backsliding to be completely believable. And given that Victoria is the fly in the ointment to all of this, that her continued refusal to have anything to do with Amy gives lie to Amy's belief that she can fix anything, and thereby puts the entire edifice of her self-rationalizations at risk, it also makes perfect sense to me that Amy would become fixated on her, on proving that she really can fix anything.

Of course, being believable isn't the same thing as being compelling. The thing that makes all this so resonant for me is that, at the end of Ward, after being this grasping spectre that haunts Victoria the whole book, after rejecting countless opportunities to demonstrate a hint of self-awareness or the slimmest motivation to change - Amy does. She sits down with a therapist. She rips off the band-aid - both the metaphorical one and the literal one made out of Victoria's skin, jesus christ Amy - looks at what she's done, at how she went awry, and resolves to do better. And we end with her in essentially the same place she was at the end of Worm: prepared to do better going forward and to make reparations as best she can. But the journey she has taken to get there gives the destination entirely new meaning for me. She's already fumbled her chance at redemption! But her journey gives lie to the idea that you only have one chance, or two, or any finite number! Every moment you draw breath is a chance to do better.

To me, Amy Dallon's arc in Ward shows that the most important step you can take is the next one, and no matter how many times you walk up and down that road, it never stops being true. And I find that compelling as hell.

[bishovapls]

Undercover - Part 1: It is all an act…

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff & Wanda Maximoff

Summary: This is a two-part story in which Wanda has been living at the compound for months, she is lonely, sad, and nursing a growing crush on a certain redheaded assassin. It doesn’t mean anything, of course, she’s just touch-starved… or so she tells herself. But when she and Natasha are sent on an undercover mission, posing as an engaged couple at a luxury resort, Wanda is faced with a new challenge. Can she keep her feelings in check, or will Natasha completely shatter her self-control?

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Angst. Unresolved Sexual and Romantic tension (maybe it will be resolved?). Mentions of HYDRA and Red Room abuse (not detailed). Slow burn but also not? Eventual smut (part 2).

A/N: I have to be honest, I read a fic where Clarke and Lexa (from The 100) did an undercover relationship thing, and I could not stop thinking about WandaNat. The chances that this has already been done are very high, but once the idea got stuck in my head, I just had to write it.

Also, it’s Wanda’s birthday, so really, what better time to post a new fic, right? 🎉

Part 1 starts below the cut, you can also find the fic on AO3.

Part 1: It is all an act…

Part 1 summary: In this part we’re introduced to Wanda and the mission, getting a glimpse into her life at the compound, lonely, uncertain, and full of angst. As the mission begins, Natasha’s relentless teasing and flirtatious words start to wear Wanda down, making it harder for her to keep her emotions in check. (11k words).

------

Wanda wakes to the low hum of the compound’s ventilation system, the sound barely enough to fill the suffocating quiet. The early morning light seeps through the curtains, painting pale streaks across the ceiling, but she doesn’t move. She never sleeps past 4 a.m.…not since coming here.

At first, she convinced herself it was just the nightmares, the way they clawed at her mind the moment she let her guard down. But she knows it’s more than that. It’s the silence. The unbearable, oppressive silence of this place.

Before the compound, it had never been quiet. Her childhood had been filled with noise, gunfire rattling in the distance, bombs shaking the ground, men barking orders in sharp, guttural tones. Even in the cramped space of their tiny apartment, there was always something. Her mother humming an old lullaby. Her father murmuring to her mother in hushed voices late at night, trying to pretend the war wasn’t creeping closer. The distant rumble of tanks rolling through the streets. 

And then, the war took them, and the streets of Sokovia became home. There, the noise was different, harsh voices echoing from alleyways, the clatter of market stalls, the distant hum of a radio playing somewhere unseen. And always, always, the sound of Pietro. His steady breathing beside her when they slept on the cold ground. The way he never truly stopped moving, even in sleep, shifting and mumbling in a way that had once annoyed her but now haunted her.

And then, there was HYDRA. That noise was something else entirely. Raw, agonising screams that never seemed to stop. The metallic clang of doors slamming shut, the hum of machinery, the harsh crackle of voices through speakers, detached, emotionless. The sharp, echoing ring of gunfire, and the inevitable silence that followed. Noise meant life. Noise meant she wasn’t alone.

But here, in the compound, the silence stretches endlessly around her. It presses in on her like a thick fog, making the space feel too big, too empty. She has settled into a routine now, though it feels more like existing than living. Most of her day is spent alone, save for training, time spent with Vision, and the team dinner in the evening. She clings to those fleeting moments of companionship, the rare times when she isn’t just a ghost moving through the compound. But she never asks for more.

She could. She knows that. She could walk up to any one of them and ask to spend time together. They would say yes. They always try to make her feel like she belongs. But Wanda has never quite accepted it.

Not when she was with HYDRA. Not when she let them twist her into something she barely recognises. Not when she invaded the minds of the very people who now sit at the same table as her, pretending not to remember what she did to them.

Each morning begins the same. Wanda wakes, stares at the ceiling for far too long, and fights the pull of exhaustion that never seems to fade. Eventually, with a slow exhale, she forces herself to move.

She swings her legs over the side of the bed, presses her feet to the cool floor, and rubs the lingering haze of sleep from her eyes before making her way to the en-suite bathroom (an absurd luxury she’s never had before but one she’s quietly grateful for).

Her routine is quick, almost automatic. A hot shower to shake off the stiffness in her muscles. Brushing her teeth, tying her damp hair back, smoothing on a light layer of makeup, just enough to make her reflection look a little less pale. Then, as always, she pulls on her gym clothes before heading to breakfast.

Pepper had filled her wardrobe the day after she arrived, an entire collection of carefully chosen clothes in soft fabrics and expensive cuts. Anything she could ever need, neatly folded, waiting for her. But most of it remains untouched. She hasn’t left the compound in four months and hasn’t needed dresses or heels or anything that belongs to a life outside these walls. So she lives in gym clothes, in sweatpants, or in pyjamas. The elegant wardrobe remains pristine, tags still attached, but she’s thankful for it nonetheless.

Despite most of the Avengers being early risers, the compound still feels eerily empty when Wanda makes her way downstairs around five. The kitchen and common area are silent, the kind of heavy quiet that makes the space feel even larger than it already is.

As she steps inside, FRIDAY flicks on the lights and starts the kettle without being asked. Wanda appreciates it, just enough warmth and movement to make the silence feel less oppressive. She moves on autopilot, pouring herself a cup of tea and wrapping her hands around it, letting the heat seep into her fingers. She lingers there for a while, staring out at the darkened landscape beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, listening to the faint hum of the compound waking up around her. Eventually, she grabs a piece of toast and some fruit, something small just to get her through training.

The next step in her routine is always the same, back to her room, book in hand, waiting for 7 a.m. That’s when the world finally stretches beyond the suffocating silence, when she gets her first taste of human interaction for the day. She never knows who will be training her until she arrives, but it doesn’t matter. Any interaction is better than none.

Steve is patient but firm, guiding her through endurance drills with quiet encouragement, always pushing but never breaking. Tony, in his own chaotic way, has taken an interest in refining the precision of her powers, integrating tech into her combat style, occasionally dragging Vision in as an extra set of hands.

Training with Natasha, however, is something else entirely. It’s an exercise in control, not just of her abilities, but of herself. Natasha is always a step ahead, sharp and calculating, teaching Wanda not just how to react but how to anticipate,

Every session is a battle of wills, Wanda fighting to keep up, to match Natasha’s effortless precision, to ignore the teasing smirks and pointed remarks that make her pulse stutter. She tries not to let the warmth rise to her cheeks when Natasha watches her with that assessing gaze, sharp and unreadable, or worse, when she smiles, slow and knowing, like she can see the effect she has on her.

And when Natasha has her pinned, bodies pressed too close on the mat, Wanda has to will herself to stay focused, to steady her breathing, to pretend the heat crawling up her spine is from exertion and not from the way Natasha’s breath ghosts against her skin. Because Natasha is everything she is not. She moves with an effortless confidence, like she belongs in every space she enters, like she owns the very ground beneath her feet.

It’s infuriating.

It’s fascinating.

It’s distracting.

It’s fucking hot.

Wanda had known Natasha was beautiful from the moment she first laid eyes on her. It was an undeniable fact, something that struck her immediately but had remained distant, nothing more than an objective observation. But the more time they spent together, the harder it became to not notice. The teasing smirks, the taunting little “keep up, Maximoff” whenever Wanda stumbled, the way Natasha would pin her to the mat with a smirk that made it impossible to think; it all chipped away at the fragile barrier Wanda had built between admiration and something dangerously close to desire.

She had tried to convince herself it was just the physicality of it all. Training with Natasha meant constant contact, fingers brushing against skin, bodies pressed together in a fight for dominance. Wanda wasn’t used to that. She had spent years isolated, first in HYDRA’s cold, unfeeling grasp and then in the uncertain limbo of joining the Avengers. Between the two, there had been very little warmth, and even less female company. 

That had to be the reason why she felt Natasha’s presence so much, why it lingered even after they had stepped away from each other. And if she sometimes whispered her name with her fingers buried inside herself during her post-workout shower? Well, it wasn’t a crush. It wasn’t feelings. It was just proximity, just touch-starvation. That was all.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

Wanda has always known exactly who she is. Even with her past, there was never a moment of doubt, never a struggle to understand herself, she has liked women for as long as she can remember. It isn’t complicated, isn’t something she wrestles with. It’s simply a fact, an unshakable truth woven into the fabric of her being.

But she hasn’t shared this with the Avengers. Not because she’s ashamed, she isn’t. It’s just easier this way. There are two reasons for it, the first being the most obvious: she doesn’t know how they’ll react. Not that she thinks they would care, not really, but she’s spent too much of her life being treated differently. She doesn’t want to give anyone a reason to see her as anything but Wanda, and so she keeps it to herself.

The second reason, though…that one is a little more complicated. If Natasha knew, then suddenly, Natasha would know. And with that knowledge, every sparring session, every moment where Wanda’s chest heaved beneath the weight of Natasha’s body pinning her down would take on an entirely different meaning to the widow. No longer would she just see exertion, no longer would it just be an effect of training. And Wanda can’t have that.

Luckily for Wanda, everyone seems to think she’s involved with Vision. It’s not true, of course, but she doesn’t bother fully correcting them, she neither confirms nor denies them. She spends a lot of time with him, not because there’s anything romantic between them, but because he’s a source of comfort in a place that often feels too big and too empty. He’s not human, but he’s more than just a machine, even if Natasha jokingly calls him a "toaster," (Wanda can’t help but crease with laughter every single time).

Vision listens to her in a way no one else does. He asks her how she’s feeling, genuinely wants to know what’s on her mind, even discusses things that have nothing to do with the Avengers or their missions. He doesn’t rush her, doesn’t pressure her to speak when she’s not ready. When the weight of everything gets too much, he’s the one who offers her a quiet hug, his arms steady and warm in a way that feels safe.

Wanda can see why people would think there’s something more between them. It’s easy to mistake the closeness, the time they spend together. But she’s never tried to shut down the rumours. It’s simpler this way…let them believe it, let them see what they want to see. 

By the time evening rolls around, Wanda’s favourite part of the day has arrived. The quiet of the compound transforms into the low hum of voices, and for a few precious hours, she feels like she’s part of something, like she belongs. Dinner is always when the team gathers, the chatter filling the air, and for the briefest moment, she forgets the weight of the silence that usually follows her around.

Wanda started cooking for the team about a month in, after realising that they survived mostly on takeout. She couldn’t sit back and watch any longer. She wasn’t going to let her skills go to waste, especially when she knew the food she made could bring something different to the table.

But when the meal is over, when the laughter fades, and the hum of conversation dies down, everyone goes their separate ways. Even Vision leaves to work with Tony in his lab. Slowly, the room empties until she’s the only one left, the only one still sitting at the table, feeling the weight of silence press in.

She tells herself she doesn’t mind. She’s gotten used to it. The quiet, the stillness, the space where once there was chatter, warmth, and comfort. It’s a routine now. She’s fine. Really.

That’s why it was so damn shocking when, after months of her routine staying exactly the same, she was called to the meeting room by FRIDAY. Her heart leapt into her throat as soon as she heard the request, and a cold sweat began to bead at the back of her neck. The first thought that spiralled through her mind was simple, yet terrifying: They’re getting rid of me.

Her pace was fast, and she could feel the tension in her chest tighten with each step she took. Her hands instinctively clenched at her sides, trying to keep her nerves in check. She tried to calm herself, but the fear gnawed at her. 

When she stepped into the meeting room, though, the confusion hit her like a punch to the gut. Director Fury, Maria Hill, and Natasha were already there, waiting. Wanda’s mind raced, trying to make sense of it.

What is going on? Why is Natasha here? What could this be about? She had no answers, just a thousand questions flooding her brain.

Fury gestured to the seat across from Natasha. "Please sit, Maximoff," he said, his authoritative voice smooth but carrying the weight of someone used to being obeyed.

Wanda nodded quickly, her heart pounding in her throat, and made her way to the seat. As she lowered herself onto the chair, her gaze inadvertently met Natasha’s, and she gave a nervous, tight smile. But Natasha’s response was a smirk, like she knew exactly what this was about, like they were already one step ahead of her. 

“What’s going on?” she asked, doing her best to keep her voice steady, but her nerves made her sound smaller than she’d hoped.

Fury spoke again, his eyes never leaving her. “I need you for a mission.”

Wanda’s breath caught in her throat. Shock hit her so hard it felt like the air left her lungs entirely. A mission? Me? Her hands twisted nervously on the table, her fingers twitching as if trying to find something to grip, something solid. She had barely been training for a few months, and her powers still felt like they were slipping through her fingers half the time. She didn’t trust them, didn’t trust herself. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words stumbled out. “W...what? Me? No I—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Natasha cut in, her voice soft but reassuring as she reached across the table. Her hand gently covered Wanda’s, stilling the nervous fidgeting of her fingers. The warmth of Natasha’s touch grounded her for just a moment, and she dared to look up at her. Natasha’s smile was small, almost knowing. “You can do this,” Natasha said, her tone strangely gentle, her eyes steady. “Just hear them out.”

Wanda nodded quickly, swallowing her anxiety, but still felt the uncertainty cling to her like a second skin. She turned back to Fury and Maria, who were both watching her with expectant eyes.

Fury continued, his voice unwavering. “We need you to go undercover. Now, I know you haven’t been training long, but this isn’t a combat mission. It’s an intel mission.”

Wanda’s eyes went wide, her mouth hanging slightly open. The shock had her frozen, still trying to process the words. The thought of doing anything that involved her out in the field made her stomach churn. She was still so new to all of this. She had barely scraped the surface of what it meant to be an Avenger, let alone take on an undercover mission. She opened her mouth again, but no sound came out.

Maria, noticing Wanda’s silence, continued in Fury’s place, her voice firm but kind. “We’ve been tracking a few HYDRA agents. They’re known for their involvement in the arms-dealing ring. Recently, they booked a stay at a high-profile luxury villa. It could be nothing, maybe they’re just on holiday. But we suspect it’s a front for something else.” She leaned forward slightly. “It’s your job to get into their room and extract any data they have. We need to know what they are doing, when and why.”

Wanda sat there, her mind blank. Her body stiffened, her heart hammering in her chest. Her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. The fear gnawed at her. This wasn’t just some undercover mission to steal a few papers or gather some information. This was about HYDRA. The people who had controlled her once. People who still haunted her nightmares. The idea of putting herself in the middle of that terrified her.

She could barely get the words out, her voice barely a whisper. “I… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Natasha’s hand, still resting on hers, gave a slight squeeze. Wanda looked up at her, but Natasha didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. There was understanding in her eyes, and something else too, something like quiet confidence.

Maria’s voice brought Wanda back to the present, though the weight of the conversation was still pressing heavily on her chest. “Look, Wanda. We know this is a lot. We need someone who can get close without raising suspicion. You’ve been training, and you’ve got the skills to do this.”

Her stomach twisted, and her heartbeat quickened as she fought to steady her breath. Her eyes flickered to Natasha, who was sitting so effortlessly across the table, cool, collected, confident…everything Wanda was not. Natasha’s gaze met hers, unreadable but steady. Wanda swallowed hard. She felt small in comparison, like she was standing at the edge of a cliff and didn’t know how to climb down.

“Why can’t Natasha do it?” she blurted out, her voice trembling before she could stop herself. “She’s the best for this. She’s... experienced. She’s—”

Fury cut her off, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “Natasha is doing it,” he said with finality, his voice as steady as ever. “You’ll be going with her. As a newly engaged couple, for cover.”

Wanda felt the air leave her lungs in a rush. Her chest tightened, and the room felt like it was closing in around her. She almost couldn’t breathe, her mind reeling with the shock of it all. The thought of having to pretend to be Natasha’s fiancée sent a rush of panic through her. The idea of getting that close to Natasha, of acting like they were something they weren’t, it was suffocating.

"Why... uh, doesn't Clint, Tony, Steve, or anyone else, really do it with her?" she asked, her voice higher than she wanted it to be, the words tumbling out too quickly. "They have way more experience than I do."

Maria rolled her eyes at Wanda’s questioning, clearly losing patience. “Because it’s a gay resort, Wanda,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “The cover only works with you. You’re the one who fits.”

The ground seemed to shift beneath Wanda’s feet as Maria’s words sank in. Wanda had never felt more out of her depth in her entire life. “What if I can’t do this?” Wanda whispered, her voice breaking as the weight of the situation hit her full force. “What if I mess it up? I…I’m not ready. I can’t.

Natasha’s expression softened, but there was no pity in it, only quiet confidence. Natasha’s eyes met hers, and Wanda could see the silent understanding in them. Natasha knew how hard this was for Wanda, how out of her depth she felt. But there was no doubt in Natasha’s gaze, she was ready. Natasha believed in her.

“You can do this,” Natasha said softly, her voice steady and full of assurance. “Just follow my lead. We’ll be fine.”

Wanda opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The fear was choking her, suffocating her, and for a moment, she couldn’t even breathe. Her mind was racing, spinning in a million different directions, but none of them made sense. 

She wasn’t ready for this mission but she knew she had no choice. Taking a shaky breath, Wanda finally nodded, her throat tight. “Okay, I’ll do it,” she whispered, though the words felt foreign on her tongue. She could barely get them out. “I’ll try. I’ll—” Her voice faltered, but she didn’t finish the sentence.

For all her doubts, for all her insecurities, the mission was real. There was no backing out now. She couldn’t let the fear swallow her whole, no matter how badly she wanted to retreat to a safer place. This was her chance to start doing good, and she was definitely going to take it.

------

Three days later, Wanda and Natasha found themselves at the entrance of a luxury resort, stepping out of the sleek black car that had been arranged for them. The moment they stood in front of the grand doors, Wanda felt the weight of their cover press against her, every step feeling heavier than the last. 

Their outfits screamed expensive, carefully selected, flawlessly put together and their luggage was no different. Bespoke suitcases, gleaming and pristine, made them look like two wealthy tourists with no care in the world. To top it all off, the oversised engagement rings on their fingers caught the sunlight, drawing attention with every movement. 

Natasha walked ahead, confident and poised, her posture perfect as she approached the check-in desk. Wanda followed closely behind, trying to match her step, though she felt like a clumsy shadow beside the seasoned widow. 

As Natasha stepped up to the counter, she reached for Wanda’s hand, intertwining their fingers with a practised ease. Wanda’s pulse skipped as Natasha’s touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. Natasha was in full control, her smile wide, her voice smooth as she slipped into her persona.

“Room for Jones?” Natasha said, her tone warm and inviting, a hint of playfulness in her words. She was already playing the role, perfectly.

The woman behind the counter looked up with an immediate smile. “Ah, our newly engaged couple! Welcome to you both,” she said, beaming at them with a sincerity that made Wanda’s stomach twist.

Natasha returned the smile, her eyes gleaming with an almost dangerous charm. She pulled Wanda’s hand toward her, leaning in to place a soft kiss on her knuckles. Wanda’s heart raced, the kiss lingering far too long, and it took everything in her to stay calm. She could feel the warmth of Natasha’s lips against her skin, the gentle pressure that had her pulse skipping erratically.

“Thank you so much,” Natasha said brightly, turning her gaze to Wanda, her smile widening. “Kate and I are so excited to be here! The reviews and photos of this place look amazing.” Natasha’s words flowed so naturally, the excitement in her tone convincing enough to make anyone believe this was just another vacation for a happy couple.

“I know I’m biased,” the woman behind the counter continued, her smile broadening even further, “but this place is great. You two will have a lovely time. Your room is 412, fourth floor.”

“Thanks!” Natasha said, her voice smooth and casual, never faltering, as though she had done this a hundred times. Wanda’s gaze flicked over to her, but Natasha was already looking back at the attendant, nodding gratefully.

Wanda opened her mouth to speak, to say something, but all she could manage was a smile. She felt utterly paralysed by the weight of it all, the fake ring, the fake smiles, the fake love she was supposed to be selling to the world.

A porter stepped forward to take their luggage, interrupting Wanda’s spiralling thoughts. Natasha led the way toward the customer elevator, pulling Wanda along with her, still holding her hand firmly.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and Natasha stepped inside without hesitation. Wanda hesitated for a moment, taking in the sprawling lobby around them, the high-end furnishings, the wealthy guests milling about, the buzz of luxury and relaxation that seemed so foreign to her. She stepped in, the doors closing behind them.

“So… Kate,” Natasha said with a teasing smirk, leaning against the elevator wall, her eyes scanning Wanda. “What do you think about this place?”

Wanda chuckled softly, a little breathless. “Well, Natalia,” Wanda replied with a playful grin, trying to mask her discomfort, “it’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, the smile on her lips growing more amused. “Really?” she asked, her tone light but with that underlying edge of amusement that Wanda couldn’t help but notice.

“Yeah, didn't get much time for luxurious holidays while I was at HYDRA,” Wanda whispered, her voice cracking slightly, though she pushed through it. “Everything’s so… perfect here.” She glanced at Natasha, the words laced with more than just observation. Every time Natasha looked at her with that easy confidence, she was reminded just how far out of her depth she was. How unprepared she felt for this, pretending to be Natasha’s partner, in public, in a place like this.

Their names and personas had been meticulously chosen to ensure they fit the cover. Natasha had become Natalia Jones, a US national, energetic, a fitness enthusiast, and a lawyer, an easy character for her to slip into, almost second nature. Wanda, on the other hand, was Katarina “Kate” Novák, a book reviewer from Slovakia. Close enough to Sokovia for the accent to make sense, but far enough removed to avoid suspicion. 

Natasha stepped closer, her gaze lingering on Wanda for a moment longer than was necessary. The flicker of something unspoken passed between them, but Wanda couldn’t place it. Seemingly without warning, the elevator dinged softly as they reached their floor, and Natasha stepped out first, glancing over her shoulder with that quiet expectation in her eyes. 

She held her hand out to Wanda, a simple gesture that made Wanda’s heart stutter in her chest. For a split second, she forgot everything, forgot the mission, forgot her nerves, and everything that was at stake. All she could focus on was the warmth of Natasha’s fingers, so close, so easy.

This is just an act, she reminded herself, forcing her fingers to straighten, to reach out, to accept. Natasha wasn’t offering her hand because she wanted her to take it. She was doing it because it was part of the cover, to sell the illusion that they were a couple. Nothing more. 

Her heart was still racing, and she tried to force a smile, masking the nerves that threatened to spill over. "Right," she murmured under her breath, making sure nothing seemed off. She needed to act like she belonged in this world, like she belonged with Natasha. 

They made their way into the suite, and Wanda stopped just inside the door, taking it all in. It was huge, bigger than anything she’d ever seen, bigger than the rooms in the compound, even. The bed was massive, easily the size of a small kingdom, and the suite was filled with plush sofas, flat-screen TVs, and a walk-in wardrobe that seemed to stretch on forever. 

And then it hit her. Her stomach lurched. There was only one bed. Of course there was. They were supposed to be engaged, pretending to be in love. She could feel her pulse quicken as she stared at the bed.

As Natasha casually threw herself onto the side of the bed closest to the door, Wanda froze. Before Wanda could even react, Natasha spoke, her voice casual. "I assume it’s okay for me to take this side, right? I just like being close to the door.”

Wanda blinked, her mind struggling to catch up. “Oh... uh, yeah, you can have the bed?” She phrased it as a question, her voice uncertain, unsure. She wanted to add something, to make it clear that she didn’t mind sleeping on the couch hell, she’d sleep on the floor if she had to, but the words wouldn’t come.

Natasha chuckled, leaning back against the pillows as if the entire situation were no big deal. "You can stay with me. This bed is huge, and it’s so comfy.” before her voice dropped into that familiar teasing tone. “And I promise I won’t bite,” she said with a smirk, “… unless you want me to.” 

Wanda’s heart leapt into her throat, hammering against her ribcage so violently that she was sure Natasha could hear it. She felt her face flush, her breath catching in her chest. The silence hung heavy between them, and Wanda stood there, frozen, unable to form a single word. She couldn’t look away from Natasha’s relaxed form on the bed, from the casual way she sprawled out, as if this were just another day, another mission. To Natasha, it is. 

Natasha’s voice broke through her thoughts again. "Oh, come on, Maximoff. You’re not sleeping on the sofa. Come here, before I make you.”

Wanda felt a strange kind of relief, but it was mixed with panic. Her hands were shaking as she grabbed her things, walking slowly over to the other side of the bed. “Thank you…” Wanda said quietly, her voice soft, almost lost in the air between them. 

“No problem,” Natasha said, her smile was soft, almost unreadable, before she stood up and made her way toward the bathroom. "I’ll be quick," she said casually, her voice smooth as she disappeared behind the door. Wanda nodded, even though Natasha couldn’t see her, and forced herself to focus on unpacking some of her things.

It was already late, and the fatigue from the long journey was starting to settle in, making her feel heavy-limbed and disconnected from her thoughts. As Natasha showered, Wanda forced herself to take slow, measured breaths. I can do this, Wanda told herself. I can sleep in the same bed, be normal. Friends share beds. it. Is. fine.”

She thought she had her panic under wraps, until the bathroom door opened again, and Natasha walked out. Wanda’s breath hitched in her throat as she tried not to react. Natasha emerged wearing a small pair of pyjama shorts and a loose, baggy top, her damp hair still clinging to the sides of her face as she absently dried it with a towel. It wasn’t the kind of outfit Natasha usually wore, there were no tight black clothes, no leather, no sleek, dangerous allure. Instead, it was something... softer, something that felt so domestic, so real in a way that made Wanda’s heart stumble in her chest.

She’d seen Natasha in skin-tight clothes a hundred times, but this... this was different. And the sight of her, looking so effortlessly relaxed, so human, made Wanda’s mouth dry. Her thoughts scattered, and a heat flooded her body, quickly moving from her cheeks all the way down to her core. 

Wanda’s heart pounded painfully in her chest. Get yourself together, Maximoff. Wanda bit down on her lip, forcing herself to look away, to focus on anything else. You do not like her like that. You don’t. It is just the room…the dim lighting, the lingering warmth of the shower still clinging to the air. It is the mission, the forced intimacy, the way we have to play pretend. That’s all it is.

It isn’t Natasha. It isn’t the way she moves, effortlessly graceful even in something as simple as drying her hair. It isn’t the way water is trickling down her throat, catching the hollow of her collarbone before disappearing beneath the oversized shirt. It isn’t the damp strands clinging to her skin, the scent of soap and something undeniably Natasha filling the air. 

No, it isn't any of that....Except….fuck….It is.

She couldn’t even lie to herself anymore. It took one day, one day with Natasha and she had already thrown out her excuses, one day, and she knew she was absolutely fucked. This was a crush and she was going to go down with it.

Natasha slipped into the bed, the soft rustle of the sheets breaking through Wanda’s thoughts. Wanda grabbed her things and rushed for the bathroom, barely keeping herself composed as she made her way towards the door. The second she was out of the room, she let out a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. The door closed behind her, and she leaned against it for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, her pulse still racing.

She wasn’t ready for this. Not for Natasha’s proximity, not for this situation, not for the way her heart refused to listen to reason. Wanda shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away as she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower letting the hot water wash over her, desperate to clear the fog from her brain. 

The shower did wonders for Wanda, washing away most of the tension and calming her nerves, though the heat still lingered under her skin. She managed to get herself out of the bathroom and into the bedroom without any further incidents. As she entered the room, she found Natasha lying on her side of the bed, her eyes focused on the screen of her phone. She seemed utterly at ease, scrolling through something without a care in the world. 

She slipped under the covers quickly, keeping her eyes trained on the bed as she turned away from Natasha and faced the wall. Wanda had hated the quiet of the compound, and she had to be honest, the gentle rhythm of Natasha’s breathing, the soft rustle of the sheets as she moved, it was oddly comforting. It made the stillness less suffocating. 

It reminded her of the nights she’d spent with Pietro, just the two of them, sharing the space without words, with the quiet comfort of simply being together. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push away the ache that spread through her chest at the memory. This felt like being home, it felt like she had someone again. This was dangerous.

Just as she began to drift off, her exhaustion pulling her under, Natasha shifted in the bed, settling fully. Despite the enormous size of the bed, Wanda could feel Natasha’s presence like a weight on her back, almost like she was pressing against her. She felt a flutter in her chest as Natasha’s breath brushed against her skin, sending goosebumps racing down her arms. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to ignore it, but her heart wouldn’t settle.

“Do you think your boyfriend will be mad that you’re sharing a bed with me?” Natasha’s voice was teasing, light, but Wanda’s heart skipped a beat.

She groaned quietly, already halfway to sleep as she turned over to look at Natasha. “I do not have a boyfriend, Natasha,” she muttered, but the words were out before she could think. The moment she said it, her mind screamed at her to shut up. She hadn’t meant to sound so defensive. And she hadn’t meant to forget that she wanted Natasaha to think that they were together, or to at least suspect it. 

Natasha chuckled softly, the sound sending another jolt through Wanda’s already frayed nerves. She could practically feel Natasha studying her, her sharp eyes reading between the lines. “No?” Natasha replied, voice still light but with a knowing edge. “What about the toaster?”

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh, a soft, breathless chuckle that she always had whenever Natasha called Vision that. Wanda shook her head, trying to brush off the sudden rush of heat. “He is not a toaster, Natasha,” she said, her words faltering slightly. “He’s basically a man,” she added, deflecting from whether she was his girlfriend or not.

Natasha smirked, clearly not letting the conversation go. “A man, hm?” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Seems like you’re a little defensive of your boyfriend.”

Wanda wondered why Natasha wasn't letting it go, did she know something? Nonetheless, she rolled her eyes, trying to play it off, but she could feel the blush creeping up her neck. “You are my fiancée, so I can’t have a boyfriend,” she said, once again trying to deflect.

Natasha chuckled, the sound low and amused. “You’re very good at deflecting, Maximoff,” she said with a playful tone that Wanda couldn’t quite decipher.

Wanda didn’t know how to respond to that. Natasha’s gaze met hers, soft yet knowing, and Wanda’s heart fluttered again, against her better judgment. The tension in the room felt thick, and Wanda wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to do this. There was no chance she could fool a spy who read people for a living, not when stuck so close. She just wanted to sleep and stop making a fool of herself, so she closed her eyes, cutting off the conversation before she could say something else she would regret.

“Goodnight, Katarina,” Natasha said teasingly before she turned over to face the opposite way.  

Wanda’s heart skipped again. “Goodnight, Natalia,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible. 

-----

As usual, Wanda woke up before 4 AM, despite only having fallen asleep around 11. She lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, her mind buzzing with thoughts. She listened to Natasha’s steady, soft breathing beside her, the gentle rise and fall of her chest that somehow made the silence of the room feel less oppressive. Wanda felt her mind slowly quieting, just listening to the rhythm of Natasha’s sleep. 

For once, she found herself falling back to sleep, her body sinking into the bed like it belonged there. She slept deeper than she had in what felt like forever, and she didn’t wake again until 6 AM when Natasha stirred beside her.

Wanda’s eyes fluttered open, and she was met with the sight of Natasha already awake, green eyes trained on her. The gaze was steady, almost predatory, and Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. “Good morning, fiancée,” Natasha said, her voice teasing, a small, almost mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “How are you?”

Wanda blinked, disoriented for a moment before answering. “Good,” she said, her voice hoarse from sleep. “This is the latest I’ve slept in months. I feel rested,” she added, not mentioning the nightmares that usually plagued her nights, or the fact that the silence of the compound often made her feel like she was crawling out of her own skin. She didn’t need to mention it, especially not now, with Natasha beside her, her presence so steady and calm. “How did you sleep?” 

Natasha stretched with a lazy smile, clearly more awake than Wanda. “Good,” she said, her voice thick with the remnants of sleep. “Ready for breakfast though. I’m starving.”

Wanda smiled, glad for the distraction. “Me too,” she said, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. The first day of their mission was meant to be spent casually, lounging around the resort, waiting for the targets to arrive. It was the perfect opportunity to get close to them, to strike up a conversation and gather intel without raising any suspicion.

Wanda quickly got out of bed and grabbed a bikini from her bag. It was a pale blue colour, simple but flattering. She got ready in the bathroom but as she finished changing she realised she’d forgotten to bring in her sundress that she planned to use to cover her bikini, at least for now. 

She sighed, shaking her head, then took a deep breath and walked back into the bedroom, hoping to get to the dress as quickly as possible without drawing too much attention. But as she reached for it, she felt Natasha’s gaze land on her. The air seemed to shift. There was something in the way Natasha’s eyes darkened, something that made Wanda’s stomach flip. She could’ve sworn Natasha licked her lips, though the moment was gone in an instant, replaced by that teasing smirk Wanda had become all too familiar with. You are seeing things, Maximoff, she scolded herself. 

“Wow,” Natasha said, her voice smooth and light, “Natalia is one lucky woman to have Kate on her arm.” She winked at Wanda as she made the remark, and Wanda felt the heat rush to her cheeks. It made sense now though, Natasha was just getting in character.

Wanda quickly turned away, grabbing the dress with shaking hands and muttering under her breath, “Shut up. Natalia doesn’t need to flirt in the room where no one can hear us.”

Natasha chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. “Can’t I compliment my fiancée?”

Wanda laughed, trying to keep the teasing mood light. “When you get one, sure,” she said, though the flutter in her chest made it harder to keep the sarcasm in her voice. Natasha was getting to her, and she hated how easily it was happening.

Wanda slipped into the sundress quickly, trying to ignore how her heart raced more than it should have as Natasha looked at her. But then Natasha, seemingly unaware of the chaos she was causing in Wanda's mind, slipped off her robe, revealing a stunning red bikini. Wanda’s breath hitched, and she felt as though she might choke on her own air.

Her gaze was drawn to Natasha’s every movement as she stood up, pulling a makeup bag from the side. Wanda couldn’t tear her eyes away, and she realised, far too late that she’d been staring. She quickly forced herself to look away, but it was too late. Natasha caught her, a knowing smirk spreading across her lips. “I’ll just be a minute,” Natasha said casually, as if the effect she had on Wanda was nothing out of the ordinary.

Wanda’s cheeks burned, but she tried to push the heat down, pretending like she hadn’t been caught. “What’s that for?” Wanda asked, glancing at the makeup in Natasha’s hand, desperate to change the subject.

Natasha pointed toward her stomach, where a darkened mark was visible just above her bikini line. It was shaped like a bullet wound, and Wanda felt a pang of sympathy before she could stop it. “Before makeup,” Natasha said, her voice almost too casual, “it was ‘bye-bye bikinis.’ But I’ve figured out how to cover the big ones now.”

There was a strange, almost imperceptible shift in Natasha’s expression as she spoke, something Wanda couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t anger, but there was an edge to it, a hint of something that felt almost like... hurt? Wanda’s heart squeezed at the thought. 

“Well,” Wanda said quickly, trying to lift the mood, “I’m sure Kate appreciates that the bikinis made a comeback.” She smiled weakly, hoping the attempt at humour would lighten the atmosphere.

Natasha’s lips quirked into a teasing grin. “You are right. I think Kate can’t take her eyes off Natalia,” she said with a wink. It was clear from her tone, from the look in her eyes, that Natasha was well aware that Wanda had been staring.

Wanda’s face flushed, her heart skipping a beat as she stammered, “H...hurry up, I want breakfast.”

Natasha’s smirk softened just a little, and she nodded, not pressing any further. “Coming right up, honey,” she teased. Wanda tried to regain her composure, but the words still felt heavy in her chest.

As Natasha finished with the makeup, Wanda fought to steady her breath, trying to drown out the warmth that lingered from the teasing, from the closeness, from the undeniable attraction that Wanda couldn’t shake.

She had to focus. This was a mission. But with Natasha so close, pretending had never felt so impossible. Natasha had slipped into her own dress for breakfast, a sleek, understated choice that somehow managed to look effortlessly amazing. Wanda couldn’t help but glance at her again as they made their way down to the hotel restaurant, their hands of course intertwining as they walked together to keep up the act. The proximity of Natasha beside her, the warmth of her hand in hers, sent a familiar jolt through Wanda’s chest, but she tried to focus on the task ahead, forcing herself to keep her thoughts in check.

As they sat at their table, the waiter greeted them with a bright smile. “Good morning, ladies. What may I get started for you today?”

Natasha smiled warmly at the waiter before replying. “I’ll have a black coffee and an omelette, please,” she said confidently, her tone smooth and relaxed. She then turned to Wanda, her eyes softening as she placed her hand on top of Wanda’s. “What would you like, my love?”

Wanda felt her entire body short-circuit at the words, her heart thundering in her chest, her breath hitching in her throat. She tried to speak but no sound came out. Her mouth went dry, and she shook her head, unable to form a coherent response. 

Natasha chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect she was having. “Forgive us,” she said to the waiter, her voice warm but laced with a hint of amusement. “She’s not a morning person.” Natasha turned back to Wanda, giving her a playful squeeze. “She’ll take a tea, some toast, and maybe some fruit too, please,” she added, her tone now soft and sweet, as if she were ordering for a beloved partner.

The waiter smiled at them both. “Coming right up!” he said cheerfully before walking off to place the order.

Wanda was still frozen in place, trying to regain her composure. When she finally managed to speak, it came out in a soft, slightly stunned whisper. “How did you know?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as she leaned in just slightly, teasingly. “How did I know what?” Her voice was light and playful.

Wanda blinked, still trying to collect her thoughts. “What I have for breakfast?” she whispered so others could not hear, the question coming out almost incredulously.

Natasha tapped her nose, the playful glint in her eyes intensifying as she winked. “I know my fiancée very well,” she said with a teasing tone, clearly relishing in Wanda’s reaction.

Wanda couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though her smile betrayed her. “You are impossible,” she muttered, her voice a mixture of frustration and affection, though she couldn’t deny how much she liked this side of Natasha, her confidence, her teasing, the way she made everything feel natural, easy.

Natasha’s smirk softened into something warmer, a quiet satisfaction in her gaze. “Not impossible. You are just predictable,” she teased, leaning back in her chair and giving Wanda a wink. “But I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Wanda shook her head, still trying to shake off the feeling of warmth that had taken over her. The whole situation felt like too much, too real, too close and yet, there was a part of her that wanted to stay lost in this. In Natasha. 

The waiter returned with their drinks and breakfast, and Wanda could only hope she would have the strength to keep herself under control throughout the day.

-----

They settled onto two sun loungers by the pool, the bright sun beating down on them, the sound of the water rippling gently beside them. Natasha was effortlessly playing the role of the doting girlfriend, her movements graceful and confident as she laid out a towel for Wanda, arranging it just right. She went so far as to fetch a cold drink for her, placing it carefully beside her, the ice clinking softly in the glass. Next to them, each sun bed was taken, couples were everywhere and it was crucial they blended in.

Wanda settled into the lounger, trying her best to ignore the soft fluttering of her heart as Natasha's eyes skimmed over her, taking her in. “God, I am lucky to have you, babe,” Natasha said, her tone genuine, as if it were completely real. She is so good at this.

Wanda’s cheeks warmed instantly, but she played it off with a grin, responding in kind. “Not as lucky as I am, darling.” Her words carried a softness in them that she couldn’t quite control.

They both lay down on their sunbeds, the warmth of the sun comforting. Natasha put on her sunglasses, scanning the area with practised ease. To anyone else, she would have looked like just another woman enjoying the resort, relaxed and casual. But Wanda knew better. Natasha’s eyes were constantly moving, assessing, looking for anyone out of place. Looking for their marks.

Wanda settled into her spot, trying to focus on the feel of the sun on her skin, but Natasha leaned closer to her, her body nearly brushing Wanda’s as she whispered softly in her ear, her breath warm and tantalising. “No sign, keep an eye out,” Natasha murmured, her voice low and intimate. Then Natasha kissed her cheek to sell the illusion, the soft press of her lips sending a wave of heat through Wanda’s body.

Wanda physically shuddered, and it didn’t escape Natasha’s notice. The corner of her lips curled into a smirk, but she didn’t comment on it. She pulled away, sitting back and applying sun cream to her arms. Wanda mirrored her actions, though it took a lot more effort to stay calm, to pretend that this was just a normal day at the resort.

It was fine, at least until Natasha turned to her, the playful glint in her eyes never leaving. “Let me get your back?” she asked, her tone light but with an edge of affection. It was a simple request, one that most couples would share without a second thought.

Wanda froze. She had to do it. She had no choice. Couples do this, we need to do this.

Wanda nodded, her voice barely above a whisper as she mumbled, “Thank you.” She turned and laid flat on her front, trying to push away the rising panic in her chest.

Natasha climbed onto her with the fluid ease of someone who had done this a thousand times, sitting with casual confidence on the swell of Wanda’s ass. The shift in position was entirely unnecessary, it felt too intimate, too close when Natasha could have just rubbed the cream in from the sunbed next to her. Natasha began rubbing sun cream on her back, her hands smooth and firm as they moved across Wanda’s skin, leaving trails of cool lotion behind.

Wanda could feel the heat pooling in her body. Her mind scrambled for control, but it was useless. The weight of Natasha on her, the warmth of her hands, the simple but intimate nature of the act sent a rush of heat straight to her core. Every movement of Natasha’s hands, every shift of her weight, made Wanda’s heart race, and she couldn’t stop the way her body reacted, betraying her.

When Natasha finished, she didn’t move right away. Instead, she leaned down, her lips grazing Wanda’s spine as she planted soft, lingering kisses down her back. Each press of her lips sent a tremor through Wanda, and she let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding. Natasha’s lips were soft, but the feeling was anything but innocent. This is an act, this is an act, this is an act, she repeated in her mind, hoping to quell the thoughts and feelings. 

“Thank you, Natalia,” Wanda whispered, almost a plea, trying to dismiss the widow and get her to stop torturing her.

Natasha pulled away, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Come on, Kate,” she said with a teasing smirk. “My turn.”

With a sigh, she climbed onto Natasha just as Natasha had for her, her hands shaking slightly as she worked the sun cream into Natasha’s skin. But unlike Natasha, she didn’t linger. She didn’t want to. She focused only on the task at hand, her movements quick and efficient, anything to avoid the closeness, the tension between them. When she was done, she didn’t wait for Natasha to react. She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, trying to make it look more intimate than it actually was. As she pulled away, she quickly retreated, heart still racing in her chest. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. But it did. And Wanda couldn’t escape it. 

The day had settled into a familiar rhythm. Wanda had her book in hand, lost in the pages, while Natasha soaked up the sun, her relaxed posture looking like she belonged in this world of luxury and ease. Their mission hung in the background, but it was a quiet tension, the waiting. They both kept an eye out for their marks, though nothing much had happened for most of the day. Time seemed to stretch on.

Wanda adjusted in her lounger, flipping a page of her book, but the words had long since stopped registering. Her eyes kept drifting over the pool, catching the way the sunlight reflected off the water’s surface, distorting the blues and golds into something almost hypnotic. 

The distant hum of conversation mixed with the soft rustling of palm trees in the breeze, but none of it could settle the anxious energy thrumming beneath her skin. She was too aware of everything, of the mission, of the weight of the engagement ring on her finger, of the fact that Natasha was lying beside her, looking impossibly relaxed, as if this entire situation didn’t affect her in the slightest.

Wanda exhaled quietly, willing herself to focus on the book in her lap, but her gaze wandered again. It was then that she saw the two women at the bar. One blonde, her hair styled neatly, her frame petite but with a confidence that made her seem larger than she was. The other was taller, dark-haired, striking in a way that immediately commanded attention. The way they carried themselves, the effortless ease of their presence, sent a jolt through Wanda’s system. She hesitated, carefully studying them, but it didn’t take long for her instincts to confirm what her brain already knew. This was them.

She turned her head slightly, leaning toward Natasha, keeping her movements natural, careful not to make it obvious. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Natasha caught it instantly. “At the bar.”

Wanda watched the shift happen in real-time. One second, Natasha was lounging as if she had no care in the world, and then, in the next breath, she was all precision, her body still but alert, her muscles coiled beneath her skin like she was ready to pounce. Her head tilted slightly, her expression unreadable as she took in Wanda’s words, before she nodded once and sat up, adjusting herself with a casual grace that made it seem like she was merely stretching in the sun.

Then, just as effortlessly, she softened again, slipping back into her role like it was a second skin. She reached out, the tips of her fingers brushing against Wanda’s wrist, the contact light but intentional. When she spoke, her voice was honeyed, “Shall we get a drink, my love?”

Wanda barely had time to compose herself before she nodded, pushing past the ridiculous way her heart reacted to something that should have been nothing. “Yeah, I’m really thirsty,” she murmured, forcing herself to sound casual despite the absolutely explicit images her mind conjured up to deal with said thirst.

She stood, shaking her head to rid the images from her mind, extending a hand towards Natasha to help her up, an instinct more than anything else, a simple, natural gesture. But Natasha didn’t just take it, she held it, wrapping her fingers around Wanda’s. She used it to guide Wanda forward, pulling her closer than necessary, their bodies barely an inch apart before Natasha finally stepped ahead, leading them both toward the bar. Wanda’s skin burned under the weight of Natasha’s grip, her mind screaming at her to get a hold of herself, but it was impossible when everything felt like too much.

By the time they reached the bar, the two women were engrossed in their own conversation, unaware of their presence, and Natasha ordered herself and Wanda a drink with a confident ease, as if their marks were not stood right there. And then, before she could even register what was happening, Natasha moved. It was subtle at first, just the faintest brush of fingers against her side, light, teasing, barely there. But then Natasha pressed in just enough to tickle, and Wanda’s body jolted before she could stop it. 

“Ahh! Nat, stop! Stop!” Wanda squealed, twisting away from the touch, half-laughing, half-panicked as she swatted at Natasha’s hand. She could already feel the heat rushing to her face, the mortifying realisation that her reaction had been exactly what Natasha wanted. “Natalia!” she growled, trying to sound stern, but the amusement in Natasha’s eyes only deepened.

Natasha didn’t let her pull away. Instead, with a fluid motion that was too smooth, she yanked Wanda back against her. The movement stole the breath from Wanda’s lungs, and before she could process what was happening, Natasha leaned in, her lips pressing softly against the side of Wanda’s neck.

Wanda’s entire body froze, every nerve suddenly alert, her skin burning where Natasha’s lips had just been. Her breath stuttered, her chest tight, and she knew this was all for show, that Natasha was just playing a part, making them look natural, drawing attention to them in a way that would make it easier to strike up a conversation with the marks.

But knowing didn’t change the way her pulse jumped at the warmth of Natasha’s breath against her skin, didn’t stop the rush of heat flooding through her, didn’t stop the way her stomach clenched at the sound of Natasha’s voice. “I’m sorry, baby girl,” Natasha purred, her lips still impossibly close, her voice dripping with amusement. “You’re just too easy.”

Wanda’s body betrayed her once again, shivering under Natasha’s touch. The laughter of the two women at the bar broke through her daze, and suddenly, Wanda remembered where they were, why they were here. She forced herself to regain control, to focus. The mission. Their targets. Not Natasha’s lips on your skin, not her voice in your ear.

The blonde grinned at them, her eyes warm. "You two are so cute. Ah, to be young and in love," she sighed dreamily.

The brunette snorted, shaking her head. "Excuse me, I’m still young and in love," she teased, pressing a soft kiss to the blonde’s cheek.

The blonde laughed. "Darling, we’re in our forties. That is not young." She turned back to Wanda and Natasha with an amused smile. "Look at these two! Babies! Especially this cutie." She pointed at Wanda, her eyes raking over her in her bikini, lingering slightly too long on her breasts.

Wanda flushed, trying desperately not to let it show just how much her body was still reeling from Natasha’s touch. But Natasha wasn’t helping. Instead of brushing it off, instead of allowing Wanda a second to compose herself, Natasha only pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around Wanda’s waist and pressing their bodies together.

"She is very cute," Natasha said, her voice light, teasing, but there was something else there. Something Wanda couldn’t name. "And very mine."

The words sent a full-body shudder through Wanda before she could stop it. A small, breathless sound, barely more than a whimper escaped before she could swallow it down. It was quiet, barely noticeable, but Natasha heard it. She felt the way Wanda tensed, the way her breath hitched.

And Wanda knew, in that moment, that Natasha had caught her reaction. Wanda barely managed to recover. She reached for her drink in a desperate attempt to ground herself. "I am all yours, my love," she murmured, though the words felt heavier than she intended.

The brunette smiled, clearly enjoying the interaction. "We haven’t seen you two around before," she said. "When did you get here?"

Natasha responded, her tone light and full of warmth. "Oh, late last night. It’s our first day here. We’re so excited!" She turned to Wanda with a soft, loving look. "We just got engaged and thought, why not, you know?" she said, her eyes holding Wanda’s for just a second too long. Wanda couldn’t help but smile back, the affection in Natasha’s eyes pulling her deeper into the moment. 

The brunette raised her eyebrows, clearly impressed. "Oh, you have to join us tonight for drinks to celebrate!"

Wanda glanced at Natasha, waiting for her response, and Natasha nodded smoothly. "That would be lovely, if you don’t mind, of course!" she added with a warm smile.

The blonde spoke up again, clearly delighted by their acceptance. "Nonsense! You two seem fun, even if your fiancée is a little quiet," she joked, laughing lightly.

Wanda blinked at the comment before responding. "Well, you see, Natalia speaks so much I don’t tend to need to," she said, rolling her eyes for good measure. 

"Behave, Novák," Natasha growled softly in her ear, her lips brushing against Wanda’s skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her. "Or you won’t be the future Mrs Jones," she added with a playful nip on Wanda’s ear.

Both women at the bar laughed at the interaction, but Wanda felt her heart race in her chest, the pounding thrum of it echoing in her ears. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this act up, not with Natasha so close, teasing her, kissing her, making her feel things that were far too real, far too intimate for comfort. This is a fucking nightmare.

Before she got the chance to process further, the brunette smiled at them, introducing herself. "Oh, by the way, I’m Johanna, and this is my wife, Zoey."

Natasha smiled back, all charm and confidence, and introduced herself and Wanda in turn. "I’m Natalia, and this is Katarina."

"It’s lovely to meet you both," Johanna said, flashing a warm smile. "We’re going back to our room to change and get ready for dinner and drinks tonight. We’ll see you later!"

Wanda smiled back, trying to shake off the heat she could feel crawling up her neck. "See you later," she managed, her voice far too strained. Natasha nodded, her expression smooth.

As soon as the women turned away and began walking toward the elevator, Wanda immediately pulled herself away, her breath shallow as she downed her drink in one go, not caring about the burn of the alcohol. Natasha noticed, her gaze softening with concern. "What’s up?" she asked, her voice quieter now, an edge of worry creeping into her tone as she observed Wanda’s behaviour.

Wanda quickly plastered on a smile, "Nothing," she said, trying to sound unaffected. Then she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping low. "We should follow, yes?"

Natasha blinked, a flicker of confusion crossing her features. It didn’t take long for Wanda to realise that Natasha hadn’t thought of it herself. Natasha cleared her throat almost awkwardly, as if she’d been in her own world, not entirely present. "Yeah... yeah, we should," she agreed, her voice a little flat as if the idea had only just come to her. 

Wanda's stomach churned, why didn't Natasha think of this? She is the professional here but she nodded anyway, a quiet unease growing inside her. They moved quickly but carefully, hanging back in the lobby as they kept their eyes on the two women. The elevator doors closed, and the women disappeared from view.

They saw the elevator was headed to the fourth floor. “They are staying on our floor. Let’s go,” Natasha commented. Wanda felt a twinge of anxiety, but Natasha's grip on her hand was firm, almost possessive as they quickly made their way to the stairs.

When they reached the fourth floor, they slowed their pace, listening for any sound that might give away the women’s whereabouts. Natasha peeked around the corner, her movements calculated, like a predator watching her prey. Wanda felt a shiver run down her spine at the way Natasha’s posture shifted, all business.

Natasha’s head turned toward Wanda as she whispered, "They are two doors down from us."

Wanda nodded, heart pounding again. She felt the familiar flutter of nerves, but she pushed it down. This was their mission. This was what they were here for. Still, the heat in her chest didn’t fade, and her thoughts continued to spin.

"Let’s go to our room," Natasha said, her voice quieter now, more controlled. She pulled Wanda along once again, guiding her with that firm grip. When they got to their room, Natasha’s hand was still holding hers, though her grip had loosened slightly. It felt almost... intimate. They stepped into their room, the door clicking softly shut behind them, and Wanda let out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, it came out as a large sigh. 

"Wands, please. What’s wrong?" Natasha’s voice was quieter now, softer. She hadn’t let go of Wanda’s hand, her thumb absently grazing over her knuckles, a touch so small yet so utterly overwhelming that Wanda thought she might actually combust.

Wanda forced herself to look away, anywhere but into Natasha’s impossibly green eyes, because she knew if she met them for too long, she’d lose herself entirely. She swallowed hard before finally pulling her hand free, the loss of warmth immediate and almost painful.

"Oh, nothing," she lied, her voice steady enough to be convincing, even as her pulse raced. "Just nervous, I guess."

Nervous. That was the understatement of the century. Nervous didn’t cover the way her body felt like it was on fire, the way her skin still tingled from Natasha’s touch, the way she ached actually ached, for something she couldn’t have. She wanted to hold Natasha, to kiss her, but to actually do those things as Wanda, and not Kate.

Natasha studied her for a beat too long, her expression unreadable, though there was something in her gaze that made Wanda feel seen in a way she wasn’t sure she liked. Wanda held her breath, waiting, heart hammering. 

And then, Natasha sighed, her face dropping slightly clearly realising she wouldn't be getting the answer she wanted.  "Well, you’re doing great," she said easily, as if that was all that needed to be said. "Tonight will be fine. We are just hanging out, and hopefully finding out their schedule for tomorrow so we can find a way to sneak into their room.” Natasha moved closer, her eyes showing nothing but warmth, “You’ve got this, Little Witch."

Wanda barely managed a nod, mumbling a quiet, "Okay, thanks," before turning sharply on her heel and heading straight for the bathroom.

She needed to get out of this conversation. She needed out of this mission. And more than anything, she needed to get out of her own damn head, because she could not keep wanting Natasha Romanoff.

-----

Part 2

Part 2 summary: The mission is in full swing, and Wanda is doing everything she can to resist Natasha’s charm. After all, it’s just an act… right?

[zwombiekochan341]

♡ YANDERE SUGURU GETO & YANDERE SATORU GOJO FIGHTING OVER YOU ♡

- Obsession & Rivalry -

Both Gojo and Geto fall hard for you, but their ways of expressing love are very different.

Gojo is openly possessive—he constantly flirts, invades your space, and makes it clear that he’s the only one you need.

Geto, on the other hand, is quietly obsessive—he watches you closely, subtly manipulating situations so that you rely on him.

They both see each other as the biggest obstacle standing between them and having you all to themselves.

- How They Treat You -

Gojo: Smothers you with affection, constantly teasing, touching, and making sure you never forget he’s around.

“C’mon, why would you even look at him when you have me?”

Geto: Plays the long game, making you feel safe with him, subtly convincing you that he’s the only one who truly understands you.

“Gojo treats this like a joke, but I actually care about you. You know that, don’t you?”

- Manipulation & Mind Games -

Both of them are master manipulators, and they use their skills to turn you against the other.

Gojo: Makes you feel like Geto is too serious, too controlling, and that you’d have more fun if you stayed with him.

“Why do you wanna hang out with him? He’s so boring! I’m way more fun, don’t you think?”

Geto: Makes you feel like Gojo is reckless, unreliable, and doesn’t truly care about you the way he does.

“Gojo only wants you because he can’t stand losing. I, on the other hand… I love you.”

In the end, they both mess with your mind so much that you don’t know who to trust.

- Extreme Possessiveness & Control -

If you try to distance yourself from one of them, the other immediately takes advantage of the situation.

Gojo might sweep you away, teleporting you to some unknown place, just to prove you belong with him.

“Aww, you’re upset? Here, let’s go somewhere far away where it’s just the two of us~”

Geto might subtly manipulate your life, making it impossible to function without his help.

“I warned you about Gojo, didn’t I? He’s reckless. But I’ll protect you.”

- How Far Would They Go? -

If one of them tries to take you away, the other wouldn’t let it slide.

Gojo would act like it’s all a game—until Geto actually succeeds in keeping you away. Then, he’d get dead serious.

“Okay, Suguru, that’s cute and all, but you know you’re not keeping them away from me, right?”

Geto would act like he’s in control, but deep down, he knows Gojo is the only person who can match him.

“You’re powerful, Satoru, but you’re reckless. You don’t deserve them.”

They would fight over you, but their shared history and twisted bond make it complicated. Neither wants to kill the other outright, but if it comes down to you, neither is above doing whatever it takes.

- Kidnapping & Endgame -

At some point, one (or both) would decide that you need to be taken away for good.

If Gojo wins, he whisks you away somewhere completely isolated. You’ll have everything you want—except freedom.

“Relax, babe~ You don’t need him. You’ve got me, and I’m never letting you go.”

If Geto wins, he makes sure you’re completely dependent on him, keeping you in a place where no one—not even Gojo—can reach you.

“Now that you’re finally safe with me, you’ll understand… You belong to me.”

But no matter who wins, the other will never stop looking for you.

- True Horror: A Shared Possession -

If they somehow come to an agreement, things get even worse. Instead of fighting over you, they decide that you belong to both of them.

Gojo keeps things lighthearted, acting as if this is all a fun game, while Geto enforces the idea that resisting is pointless.

“See? Now there’s no need to fight~ You’re ours. Forever.”

[csprint]

hello fellow ahgase 💚 i freaking love your got7 work!!!! could you do their reaction to reader ignoring them and packing their bags as a prank?!

thank youuu 🫰🏻

mark:

ignores you back. he doesn’t know what he did to get you in a sudden mood and does not care at that point if he was already asking multiple times what was wrong. he’ll probably let you get as far as the driveway before asking you one more time. goes, “y/n, i’m giving you one more chance,” in a toneless, deep voice. use jinyoung pranking him as a reference. when you tell him it’s a prank, he’ll be very annoyed. probably continues to ignore you. you try to reassure him with hugs and sweet words while laughing and although he barely returns the affection, he doesn’t push you away.

jay b:

helps you pack your bags. you had been ignoring him all day but he’d catch on quicker thank you’d realize. he’s not easy to fool and you take offense to the fact that he’s helping you. really has the audacity to carry your bags to the door and before you ‘leave’ he’s going, “don’t forget to leave your key,” and lists off the different things you owe. probably even offers to pay for your plane ticket but that would be your breaking point and you’d have to tell him it was all a prank.

jackson:

he’s going with you. like, you’re not just going to ignore him and pack up your shit without giving him an explanation why. he wouldn’t allow it. so wherever you go, he’s going. doesn’t even care when you tell him it’s a prank. he’s gonna make sure that you know that leaving him is never an option.

jinyoung:

takes everything back out whenever you put something in your suitcase. packing your light jackets? he’d pick it out and toss it to the other side of the room. taking important documents? he’ll put it back where you originally stored it because why would you possibly need that?! he can do this all day. “y/n, do you have something you want to tell me?” hands firmly on his hips, his tone calm yet biting, and you know you would be taking it too far if you let this drag on any longer so you allow yourself to lock eyes with him until you break into a grin. realizes you had been pranking him. would be visibly annoyed but you can see as he’d relax, knowing you weren’t leaving him for real.

youngjae:

quietly watches you. tries to remember if there was an argument or if he said anything to upset you or if you’ve said anything about going on a trip. you probably couldn’t even complete the prank; the moment he sees you starting to pack your clothes, he looks torn, confused, and broken. you stop immediately and tell him that it’s just a prank and that you don’t even know why you thought it would be fun. he’ll laugh that charming laugh of his and call you mean but nonetheless pulls you into him for a bone-crushing hug.

bambam:

he doesn’t buy your act one bit so he’s acting chill. he’s always pranking you so you wanted to at least get him back in some way. “so when you’re done with that, do you want to try that new vietnamese restaurant?” “you think i’m joking. i’m really leaving you.” “okay. so we leave at 8.” but just in case, he would kiss your pout away to be fully sure it was just a prank and would not be able to hide the little sigh of relief when you kissed him back. you pull back, “ha! you did believe me.” playfully rolls his eyes, pushing you away.

yugyeom:

would try to reason with you, anything to make you stay and immediately takes the blame without fully knowing what was going on. that alone makes you want to give up but you try to drag the prank on a bit more, pulling your suitcase to door. but not before he’s beating you there and blocking the entrance, begging to know why you’re doing this. you laugh, despite the tears forming in his eyes and explain to him that you were pranking him. he’ll painfully laugh as well, falling against the door with his face hidden in his hands. allows you to take his hand and pull him into a hug. seriously cannot be playing like this with him. giants have feelings, too.