#but I really don’t think it’s more complicated than that

[prettyangellllll]

The cross

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x You (Enemies-to-Allies-to-Betrayal)

Summary:

You and Rafe Cameron were never supposed to be on the same side, but greed makes desperate allies. With the golden cross finally in your possession, you think you've won—until everything goes downhill. When the Pogues storm the ship, Rafe’s paranoia takes over. Convinced you betrayed him, he does the unthinkable.

One shove. Cold water. Open ocean.

Warnings: Betrayal, attempted drowning, violence, language, paranoia, enemies-to-allies tension, themes of survival, morally gray characters.

---

You and Rafe Cameron have never been on the same side before. In fact, you’re practically enemies—both stubborn, reckless, and willing to do whatever it takes to get what you want. But when it comes to the golden cross, you realize you have no choice but to work together.

The partnership is anything but smooth. You have the inside knowledge—whispers of a shipment, hidden clues that no one else has caught onto. Rafe, on the other hand, has the connections, the brute force, and the reckless confidence to get you past security. It’s a temporary alliance, one that neither of you trusts.

Every interaction is a battle. Tense car rides, sharp words, and the constant threat of betrayal hanging in the air. Rafe doesn’t trust you, and you don’t trust him. You both know that when the time comes, only one of you can walk away with everything.

But the deeper you go, the more complicated it gets. Near-death experiences force you to rely on each other. Close encounters with Ward, the Pogues, and even Carla Limbrey keep pushing you together. The constant proximity turns your partnership into something more—something dangerously intoxicating. Late nights spent strategizing turn into lingering stares. Heated arguments turn into something else entirely, something neither of you are ready to name.

---

The golden cross is finally yours. After months of planning, chasing, and risking your lives, you and Rafe finally have it secured. The two of you haul it onto the ship, adrenaline still coursing through your veins as the weight of your victory settles in.

But the celebration doesn’t last. The sound of footsteps—ones that don’t belong to either of you—echoes from the deck above. Before you can react, a gun cocks, and everything spirals out of control.

The Pogues.

They came back for what was theirs, and somehow, they found you. A full-on battle erupts on the ship, chaos spilling across the deck. Fists fly, gunshots crack through the night air, and the ship rocks violently against the waves. You’re dodging attacks, trying to figure out how the hell they knew where to find you, when suddenly—

Rafe turns on you.

There’s a wild, unhinged look in his eyes, one you’ve seen before but never directed at you like this. He grabs your arm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

"You snitched," he snarls.

You barely have time to react. "Are you insane? I didn’t—"

But he doesn’t listen. He never does when he’s like this. His paranoia, his obsession, the way he never really trusted you—it all snaps into place as he shoves you backward. Your foot catches on the edge of the ship, and before you can steady yourself, Rafe shoves you again—

And you’re falling.

The cold ocean swallows you whole, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. The salt burns your eyes as you fight to resurface, gasping for breath. Above you, chaos rages on, but Rafe doesn’t look down. He doesn’t hesitate.

He just turned on you.

As the ship grows smaller in the distance, the weight of betrayal sinks in harder than the freezing water around you.

The moment Rafe shoves you, it happens too fast to stop. The cold ocean swallows you whole, knocking the breath from your lungs as you sink beneath the surface. For a terrifying second, everything is black—just endless water, freezing and suffocating, pressing in on all sides. Your arms flail as you fight to break through, lungs burning, heart pounding like a drum in your ears.

When you finally surface, gasping for air, the ship looms above you, rocking violently against the choppy waves. The stormy sea churns around you, sending icy tendrils of panic through your veins. You kick your legs, trying to stay afloat, but the current is strong, the exhaustion creeping in fast.

And then you see him.

Rafe is still standing at the edge of the ship, watching. His grip is white-knuckled on the railing, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched so tight it looks like it might break.

But he doesn’t move.

He doesn’t help you.

He just stands there, eyes locked on yours, breathing hard like he’s trying to convince himself that this is what had to happen. That you betrayed him. That you deserved it.

The waves crash into you again, pulling you under for half a second before you break through, coughing, struggling to keep your head above the water. "Rafe!" You choke on saltwater, reaching toward the ship instinctively, but he still doesn’t move.

The betrayal sinks in deeper than the cold.

"You think I told them?" Your voice is hoarse, shaking, but filled with something else now—rage. "Are you that fucking paranoid?"

His lips part like he wants to say something. Maybe even like he regrets it. But before he can, another gunshot rings out on the deck behind him, and he flinches, whipping his head toward the chaos still unfolding on the ship.

Your limbs are going numb. The current keeps dragging you further, the ship drifting just enough that your fingers grasp at nothing but air. Rafe turns back to you, conflict flashing across his face—like he’s debating whether to pull you up or let the ocean take you.

You hold his gaze, chest rising and falling, waiting for him to make a move.

And then—

The ship lurches.

The cross shifts.

And just like that, the decision is made.

Rafe steps back.

And you’re left to the sea.

[blairxbear]

When they realise they are in love with you...

Class 1A / Other UA Students / Pro Heroes / Villains

How will these villains react to realising that they are in love with you?

Featuring: Tomura Shigaraki, Dabi/Toya Todoroki, Shuichi Iguchi/Spinner, Kai Chisake/Overhaul, Jin Bubaigawara/Twice, Atsuhiro Sako/Mr. Compress, Young All For One

Tomura Shigaraki

• Love is foreign to him—it’s something he associates with weakness, pain, and loss.

• He doesn’t understand his own emotions at first—he just knows he wants you close but is terrified of hurting you.

• The moment he truly realizes it? One night, you fall asleep near him, completely unafraid. He stares at you for hours, his hands shaking.

• “They trust me. No one’s ever trusted me like this before.”

• He tries pushing you away at first, convinced you deserve better.

• But when he sees you smiling at him like he’s more than a villain, he breaks. He’s yours now. No escape.

• His confession is raw and broken, whispered against your skin like a secret he’s too scared to say out loud.

• “I don’t want to ruin you… but I think I love you.”

Toya Todoroki (Dabi)

• Dabi doesn’t believe in love—to him, it’s just another lie, another way to get hurt.

• But when he realizes he feels safe with you, it scares the hell out of him.

• The moment he knows? He sees you patching up his burns, touching his scarred skin without flinching, and something in him shatters.

• “Why aren’t they afraid of me?”

• He tries dismissing it as lust, obsession—anything but love.

• But when he sees you laughing at one of his dumb jokes, he realizes he’d burn the whole world down to keep you safe.

• His confession is casual but intense—maybe after a mission, cigarette between his lips, acting like it’s nothing.

• “Tch. Guess I love you. Sucks for you, huh?”

Shuichi Iguchi (Spinner)

• Spinner is completely awkward about romance—he never thought anyone would look at him that way.

• He realizes it slowly, over time—when you’re the only one who really listens to him.

• The moment it hits him like a truck? You defend his ideals in front of the League, proving you actually believe in him.

• “Holy shit. They actually care.”

• Suddenly, he can’t stop thinking about you, watching your reactions, hanging on your words.

• His confession is embarrassingly nervous, probably stammering through it.

• “Uh… okay, don’t laugh, but I think I might be, um… kinda in love with you? Shit, that sounds dumb—”

Kai Chisaki (Overhaul)

• Love is a weakness, something that doesn’t belong in his world.

• He tries to rationalize it, seeing you as an asset, a necessity—but that excuse crumbles fast.

• The moment he realizes? You touch him without hesitation, and for the first time in years, he doesn’t flinch or feel disgusted.

• “They’re not… dirty. They’re not tainted. How?”

• He spirals—overanalyzing, avoiding, obsessing.

• When someone threatens you, and he feels pure, unfiltered rage, it clicks. He’s in love.

• His confession is cold and clinical but deeply possessive.

• “You belong to me now. Don’t argue.”

Jin Bubaigawara (Twice)

• Love is messy, complicated, and dangerous—and he’s already got too many voices in his head.

• He realizes it when he starts thinking about you more than himself, more than his own survival.

• The moment it hits him hard? You remember something small about him—his favorite snack, his childhood memories—and he just… freezes.

• “No one’s ever cared that much about me.”

• His emotions become even more chaotic, flipping between being clingy and pulling away out of fear.

• His confession is a total nervous wreck—probably talking to himself about it first before blurting it out to you.

• “Shit, shit, I love you! Wait, do I? YES, I DO—oh god, is this a bad idea?!”

Atsuhiro Sako (Mr. Compress)

• He’s suave and theatrical, but love? Love is tricky. Dangerous. A gamble.

• He realizes it when he starts protecting you first, putting you above the mission.

• The moment it fully sinks in? You call him out on his loneliness, and he realizes you see through his mask.

• “They know me. The real me.”

• Suddenly, his usual charm feels meaningless unless it’s you he’s entertaining.

• His confession is smooth but deeply genuine—probably whispered against your ear, teasing yet serious.

• “My dear, you’ve stolen something precious from me… my heart.”

Young All For One

• Love, to him, is power—a tool to manipulate, to control.

• Or at least… that’s what he thought before you.

• He realizes he’s in love when he stops seeing you as replaceable—when he wants to keep you, not as an asset, but as something more.

• The moment it truly hits? You defy him, looking him in the eyes without fear, and instead of being furious… he’s intrigued.

• “They’re… mine.”

• Suddenly, he finds himself protecting you, indulging you, giving you power instead of taking it away.

• His confession is low and dangerous, more of a claim than a request.

• “You belong to me, little one. And I belong to you.”

[maskedcrawford]

Hidden Secrets

G Dragon x Reader

Summary: Steve, Ji-yong and another morning after. But this time words are spoken that can't be taken back.

Warnings: MORE Angst but this time it ends a little differently. I hope you guys enjoy! I'm having a blast writing this fic and so glad you guys are enjoying it. Please leave a like or a reblog if you enjoy and be sure to follow for updates on the story. Thank you for reading and for your support!

Chapter 2

Chapter 3- Beauty in the Mess

You listen to the phone ring, ring and ring some more. Why were you calling Steve exactly? One reason, you wanted to take your mind off Ji-yong and whatever her name is.

“Hello,” his tired but sober, for once, voice answers.

“H-hey,” you choke out.

“Y/n?” he asks as he sits up in bed, “What’s up?” he’s more alert now.

“If I text you the address, can you come over?” You had that feeling in the pit of your stomach that this wasn’t a good idea, but you were too hurt and frustrated to care.

“Uh, yeah just let me know where you are.”

“Ok, and bring condoms.” You say and hang up on him. Your stomach is in knots but you don’t care. You want something Ji-yong clearly isn’t going to give you and you aren’t exclusive. He said you could bring men home, so you’re going to.

You walk out of your room again and you stop and listen for a moment, there’s silence in his room and you figure he’s asleep.

“Safe till morning,” you think as you walk to the living room and watch outside the window. No need in him knocking and possibly waking up Ji. Once he gets there you let him in and put your finger to your lips making the shh motion. You lead him to your room wearing nothing but a long t shirt and your underwear.

“I uh, brough these,” he says showing you the box of condoms and you take the box and throw it aside to be used later.

“What’s going on?” his face is full of confusion and while you wish it was Ji-yong you were about to kiss, its not. But hey, he isn’t the only one who can use his imagination. You bring Steve’s neck down to your level as you capture his lips in a kiss filled with nothing but lust.

“Y/n,” he tries to say against your lips. You pull back and slip the t shirt off. You place his hands on you, knowing how to work him like a fiddle.

“Don’t talk, just make me feel good,” you say as you kiss him again. Did he make you feel good, eh not exactly. Kind of. Not the way Ji-yong did. His touch wasn’t heaven, it wasn’t electric or passionate, it was needy, rushed and selfish. He didn’t elicit the same noises or desires in you; being with Ji-yong really had spoiled you. But you honestly didn’t care as long as you got off.

“Does that feel good baby.”

“Don’t talk,” you said as you kissed him again, trying to think of Ji instead of him.

“Fuck.” You moan out.

“I thought you said we have to be quiet.”

“What did I say about talking?” you swat his face. Did you exaggerate a few noises? Of course, I mean, what good would this be if Ji-yong didn’t know anything.

Once the activity was done, you both lay there in bed heaving.

“Fuck I missed you,” he breathes as he tries to cuddle you. You get up before he can fully embrace you and quietly pick up your shirt and underwear putting it back on. You honestly needed a shower after that.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“Want some company,” his voice is suggestive.

“No, Steve,” your voice is filled with annoyance and you twist your face in disgust.

You turn on the hot water once you get in the bathroom, the hottest you can stand, and slip in feeling it hit and sting your skin. Tears unintentionally stream down your cheeks. You hadn’t processed the stress any of this had put you under until this moment.

“What is wrong with me,” you sobbed quietly. 9 months ago, your life was so different. Your boyfriend was decent and working, Ji-yong was just your best friend and life was smooth. Now, your relationship with your best friend is more complicated than ever and your deadbeat ex-boyfriend was waiting in your bed, after he slept with another girl! You huff as you scrub your body, trying to make it feel clean after what you had just done. You notice a spot that looks like it wants to bleed and you stop before too much damage is done.

You walk back into your bedroom after your shower and see Steve is all ready asleep. Aftercare was never his thing. He liked to fuck and then sleep. In that particular order. You roll your eyes as you get in bed, thinking once again about how Ji-yong would be treating you.

He’d clean you up first and foremost. Ask if you were ok and then he’d hold you like if he didn’t, you’d fall apart; like he was some kind of glue for you. He’d tell you how good you did, how beautiful you are, and how special he thinks you are too. He didn’t treat it as a casual thing despite the arrangement, he treated it like you were his lady, because in those moments you were.

Before you know it, morning comes and you hear the sound of shouting and pots and pans clanging together. Your eyes widen as everything rushes back to memory. You look over in a futile effort to see if Steve is with you still. Of course not.

With your emotions clear, last night’s decisions are weighting heavy on you. You crawl out of bed and sigh before opening the door.

“Get the fuck out!” you hear Ji’s voice filled with rage.

“I swear to God if you fucking touched her,” you couldn’t see him in the hallway but you knew his face was red. He’d never sounded so angry.

“Look man she called me,” Steve says. Steve was good at covering his own ass, even if it was true.

“So you fucking came? Did she not make it clear she was done with you sorry ass?” you couldn’t help but revel in the fact that he was defending you, despite the tiff, it was really sexy.

“Well, considering the fact that moaned because of me last night, no,” you could hear the smirk in Steve’s voice and you heard a glass break.

“Fucking shit, man.” You hear Steve say and you walk around the corner. Your vison is filled with a trashed kitchen and Ji-yong has a pot in one hand and a knife in the other. Steve is hunched over, more cuts and bruises, you particularly notice one to his eye. That must’ve happened before you woke up.

“What the actual fuck, y/n?” Ji-yong asks angrily, looking at you.

“I,” your voice is hoarse.

“You want me to, in the middle of making breakfast this morning, hear my shower turn on and see your naked shrimp dick boyfriend in it when I go to see if you’re up?” You catch a glimpse of his hand and see that it’s bloody, but it’s not cut. It’s Steve’s blood.

“I’m just,” Steve points to the door and he limps past you. You rub the back of your neck with your eyes closed. Fuck. He turns his attention to you and you can see the absolute rage on his face. He was hurt, don’t get it twisted, but he was also pissed someone touched what was his, even if he’d been the one to start it.

“I mean, really? What the hell were you thinking? He was drunk the last time you seen him and he tried,” he trails off closing his eyes and he slams the pot and knife down as he remembers the sight of you in danger. It makes his blood boil.

“I,”

“Actually, I don’t fucking care,” he puts his hand up. You were now to the point of being the one upset.

“Hold on,” you shout as he walks past you still in his robe.

“First of all, you weren’t even supposed to be here today. You told me you were recording today.”

“Yeah, I canceled. Didn’t realize I had to run every little plan by you,” he turns to you his eyes full of bitterness.

“Second,” you put up two fingers, “You don’t get to be mad at me with the way I chose to proceed after the bull shit you pulled last night. Not mention, third,” you hold up another finger, “You said we weren’t exclusive and you,” you point your finger to his chest, “brought someone else home first. So excuse me for thinking I could do the same thing.” You cross your arms and put your weight on your hip.

Ji-yong’s jaw clenches and unclenches multiple times

“I didn’t bring home someone who treated me like shit and broke my heart,” he seethes.

“No, you’re right,” you say too calm, “I live with a guy who can that just fine.”

 He goes silent for a moment, the air between, you would swear you could suffocate in the silence.

“Was he better than me?” you’re caught off guard with his question. His voice is so low and calm it almost frightened you.

“Was she better than me?” you retort. You turn to grab a waffle off the plate in the kitchen when you hear him mumble it.

“No.”

You freeze, with a piece of waffle in your mouth, you turn a look at him, still standing there in his robe and bed head. He looked almost like a little kid as he looked at the ground. You walk over to him.

“What,” you ask as you swallow the waffle bite. He sighs and rubs his hands together before admitting this small truth to you once again.

“No, jagiya, she wasn’t better than you,” he’s looking deep into your eyes. Your face softens slightly.

“Really?” He nods his head with pursed lips.

“So tell me, was he better than me?” his lips twitch slightly. You look at the ground and tell him the truth.

“No,” your voice comes out shy and quiet.

“Mm,” he hums for a minute before coming closer to you.

“Did you at least have a nice time,” his tone is slightly cocky and you want to tear away any pride you can of his.

“Yeah, I did,” you say short and snippy, “I think you should change your mind about the studio today. It’s probably best you aren’t around me.” You say matter of factly. You start walking back to your room. And that’s when his girl from last night comes trapsing out in nothing but a bra and panties. How the heck did she not freak out over the whole ordeal?

“Oh, sorry I was just uh, oh, there you are,” she smiles shyly as she walks by you and gives Ji-yong a good morning kiss. Well actually she practically sticks her tongue down her throat.

“So are we going to spend in the day in bed like we talked about? It’s getting lonely in there,” she giggles. Ji-yong glances your way with sorrowful look at your rage is once again activated. He really had the nerve to get mad at you and she was why he wasn’t going to record? To be with some girl you were sure he didn’t know the name of.

“But Ji-yongie you promised,” you stand there shamelessly listening.

“Not today, I have something I have to do,” his eyes flit to you, “ I’ll get you an uber home.” She pouts and your fists are balled at your side. You go to your room and slam the door.

Ji-yong knew he screwed up, bad, and he wasn’t willing to leave it like this. You two hadn’t fought like this, ever. You two never really did fight, unless it was playful, but that was before your feelings, and bodies, intertwined.

He gives the blonde, who he still can’t recall her name, a kiss on the cheek as he sends her off in his uber. You walk out of your room in your clothes for the day, ready to get to work on the painting you’ve been working on. You catch him staring at you from the entry hall by the front door.

You walk into the small studio and give it a moment. You can’t risk Ji-yong walking in on your artwork. You were painting a picture of you and him, only it was becoming more abstract, much like your relationship. It started off as two people, you and him essentially, but as emotions came up and then got buried and the chaos of the last 48 hours came about, the picture began to have splatters of paint, lines through the middle of it. He’s painted in red and orange, signifying passion and love, what you felt for him. You were painted in colors of blue and gray, signifying your bottled-up emotions and the heartbreak you’re beginning to feel is inevitable.

Ji-yong pads down the hallway, not sure of what to say, how to make it right or what would happen next, but he knew he cared about you too much to not try and talk to you about it. See he never really slept with that girl, she did some things, but he never touched her. He couldn’t, she wasn’t you. That’s why Steve hurt so bad, he knew you’d slept with him, and you did it because of what you thought he did with the girl he brought home. He gently opens the door and shuts it behind him. He see’s you standing in front of a gorgeous painting, staring at it.

“Wow,” you grab at your chest as you gasp. You don’t turn around, too anxious to move.

“It’s beautiful,” he says coming up behind you.

“You weren’t supposed to see it,” you move to put it away but he tugs you back, your back hitting his chest.

“Well, now I have,” he says quietly. He feels something wet his arm as it drapes around your midsection.

“Nae sarang,” he whispers lovingly in your ear. You grit your teeth for a moment.

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” you say you turn to him, your tears being freely released. He shoots his hands up in mock surrender but you aren’t done.

“You really are a jackass, you know that? You really fucking are. I mean, you sit here and treat me like shit, leave me after last night and then go out and find some broad to fuck because I beg you for it?”

“I told you why what happened yesterday did.”

“Oh my God, Ji so I laughed. I laughed because I thought the idea was funny because of how fucked up our situation is!” Your voice echoes in the room. He nods his head slowly.

“And then you think you can just trapse in here, and act like I’m yours because you said she wasn’t a better fuck than me.” You move your hands wildly now out of anger. Maybe you should’ve been the one painted in red.

“Just go, get out so I can work,” you say with a sigh as you turn to grab your paint.

“What’s the red line for?” he asks curiosity getting the better of him.

“For the rift between us. It cuts us at our core because our relationship is fractured, Ji. Whether we want to believe that or not, it’s broken. And much like the paint on this canvas, it may be that way forever.” You explain with your back turned. There’s no way you could face him and say this. You don’t see the depression that twists on his face. The way his heart breaks to hear your words. Yeah he messed up, but he didn’t know he had hurt you this bad. This was supposed to be a casual thing for you.

“Y/n” he tries to come up to you, to hold you, to tell you that you can still fix it, but you shove him away from you.

“I think I’m going to need to move out.” You mumble.

“Listen, I know I screwed up, but,” he tries to reason with you, he regrets his choices from last night more than he ever thought he would. If he’d have known losing you is what it would cost him, he never would’ve done any of this. Yet he still can’t bring himself to be vulnerable with you, not completely.

“Ji-yong, get away from me,” you say through clenched teeth. He sighs and walks out.

You hear him slam the door to his room and you blast your music through the speakers and begin painting.

What you don’t see are the tears he lets flow. If he’d never of slept with you that night, if he would’ve kept control of himself you two wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Fuck!” you hear him yell over the music and despite your anger you can’t help but go check on him, you’re mad but you still love him. You stand outside his door and gently tap your knuckles against it.

“Ji,” you say gently. He doesn’t open the door. You turn the nob and to your surprise he’s laying on his bed. The one he laid in with her not 12 hours earlier. A picture of what they could’ve looked like tangled together enters your mind and you force it away. You don’t say anything, you just lay with him, putting your hand around his body, pressing him to you.

“Don’t leave, please,” his voice is hoarse, barely coming out above a whisper. He closes his eyes, silently begging you.

“Ji, this isn’t healthy for either one of us.”

“What do you want me to do? Tell me and I’ll do it,” he turns over to face you and that’s when you see it. The brokenness he’d been hiding. The pain at the thought of you leaving, at the thought of having lost you.

“It’s not that I want you to do anything, I just don’t think we can handle this. But at the same time things can’t go back to way they were.” You absentmindedly place a hand on his cheek and he closes his eyes, reveling in your touch.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he scoots closer to you, too close. Your mouths are inches from each other, your foreheads are touching, and you can feel his hot breath on your lips.

“Ji, we,” the tension is making your head spin as you notice his not so subtle staring at your lips.

“Oh, damn it,” you say in defeat as you pull him to you and your lips collide in a beautiful eruption of fireworks. He pulls you to him, pulling you on top of him. You separate to assault his jawline and neck. His breaths are short and pant like, his head spins from the chaos of the last few days and your touch. How the two of you could ever truly recover he wasn’t sure.

 You open his robe and trail kisses down his bare chest, stopping to nip at his skin every now and again. As you trail kisses down his stomach you see her face, again, and you stop. You look at him and he can see the change in demeanor.

“What’s wrong,”

“I can’t stop picturing it.” You move off of him and back to the side.

“I didn’t really sleep with her,” he says shyly and you shoot your brows up and look at him.

“What?”

“I mean she did some stuff but I never actually touched her,” his face is slightly red. You weren’t sure if you were relieved or more pissed.

“So what the hell? You just wanted me to think you slept with her to piss me off? Make me jealous or something?”

“No, I,” he rubs his hands down his face. Once again, an awkward silence fills the room.

“I don’t want you to go,” he says after a minute of stillness.

“I don’t want to go, Ji, but I can’t keep getting my heart broken.”

“What do you mean? How is your heart getting broken if we’re just casual.”

“Because,” you freeze before anything is said you can’t take back.

“Because,” you start again, “Even if it’s casual, we’re just using each other here. That’s fucking painful.”

“Like you used Steve last night,” he quirks a brow.

“That’s not fair,” you mumble, “You did the same thing with, who was she?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Exactly, I can’t take being used by you.”

“By me?”

“Yeah, it hurts, it stings it makes me,” your chest is heaving harder now.

“I just can’t do it, Ji-yong. I thought I could. I really did.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says trying to pull you close.

“I don’t want to lose you, but I have to think of myself. Hell I’m the only one thinking of me, here.”

“Hold on, that’s not true. I was trying to wine and dine you, make you feel better about this whole thing.”

“You did it because you wanted sex, you wanted my body, Ji-yong. I know that all ready. Dinner isn’t required when you aren’t going to date someone.

“Are you saying that’s what you want? A date?” he ducks his head to peer into your eyes and you quickly glance away.

“I have a painting to finish,” you mumble and get up off the bed.

“Y/N,” he stops you from leaving. He pauses and takes a deep breath.

“Will you go out with me tonight?”

“Ji-yong, don’t do,”

“I’m serious. If a date is what you want, a date is what you’ll have. No sex, no strings, just a romantic evening. I’ll plan the whole thing.”

“Don’t do this to keep me from leaving,”

“Yeoja agi, I’d sell everything I own and give up my career to keep you here.”

“Do you even want to date me or is it just a casual thing?”

If you enjoyed and would like to support me, buy me a coffee

“Y/n,” he takes a deep breath, “I’m crazy about you.” You look at him stunned.

Tags: @loveesiren @natalicss @mashtatosworld @nerdydoll-com

[runningincircl3s]

Blood Sport

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Chapter Two

chapter warnings: mentions of drinks (although never stated as alcoholic?)

happy friday!! i did NOT expect this story to get so much love so far, i can't believe it?? seriously thank you so much!! i'm hoping it lives up to it's expectations as it's been so so fun to write, i've definitely fallen back in love with writing and i think this story will certainly reflect that <3

also, like with nothing ever after, i thought i'd share my playlist for this story! i wanted to make it fit with the chapters but nope it is an unorganised mess, and i will still be adding to it as i write more! but anyways are we ready to face noah again...

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You adjusted the strap of your dress in front of Matt's hallway mirror, trying your best to ignore the anxiety crawling up your spine. This wasn’t supposed to be difficult, not for you. Matt and Alyson were getting married, and you were invited to celebrate with them. It's not like this was your big day. So it should be simple, right?

Except everything about this felt complicated. Besides Bryan (and now Matt and Folio), you hadn’t seen any of the guys in the band since last year, so you were worried about how they'd react, especially Noah. You couldn't even think about him without your chest tightening, so the thought of seeing him again had your heart beating faster than you were comfortable with.

However, you pushed all these thoughts to the back of your mind, attempting to focus on the task at hand.

“Are you ready?” You asked Matt, before helping him adjust his tie.

“As ready as I can be.”

You chuckled, smoothing down the fabric of his jacket, admiring the way he looked in his suit.

“You look great. Alyson’s going to lose it when she sees you.”

Matt smiled, but there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

“I just… I don’t want to mess this up, you know?”

You paused, giving him a reassuring look.

“You’re not going to mess anything up. You love her. She loves you. That’s all that matters.”

He met your gaze, his usual confidence had been replaced by anxiety, but he still put on his best smile.

“I’m lucky, huh?”

“Very.” You agreed softly, your smile turning a little bittersweet as your mind brought you back to somebody. 

Noah. 

How, if things were different, he would've been here with you. You could've been attending your best friends wedding together.

But instead, you almost felt like you shouldn't be going. He surely wouldn't want to see you again, how would he react to you turning up to his best friends wedding?

Matt seemed to notice you drift away into thought, so he cleared his throat.

“Alright, enough of this sentimental stuff. We've got a wedding to get to!”

As he turned toward the door, you called out.

“Wait, Matt. You’re forgetting something.”

He suddenly spun back around.

“I am?”

You dug into your bag and pulled out a small box, handing it to him.

“A little something I got you for good luck.” You said with a wink.

"Good luck?" He raised an eyebrow, "Isn't this just for the bride?"

"Well, not this time." You chuckled, watching him inspect it.

Matt opened the box, revealing a small silver keychain with a tiny plush raccoon hanging from it.

“You know me too well.” He grinned, tucking it into his pocket. “Thanks, y/n. Seriously. You were the first person I told when I thought about proposing, you’ve been a part of this since day one. Even if it's tough for you... I’m really glad you’re here.”

You smiled, feeling that familiar lump at the back of your throat.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

As Matt stepped out, you couldn’t help but think back to when you first met the guys, and how so much had changed, but so much had stayed the same.

You still remember when Matt first met Alyson, he had told you it was love at first sight, which made it even more difficult for him to ask her out on their first date, fearing she'd say no and he'd spend the rest of his life alone.

And now here they were, all these years later, on their wedding day.

Something in the air felt different this afternoon as you stepped out of the house into the warm sun. For the first time in months, you felt hopeful. You were starting to feel like maybe you were ready for you own next step, whatever that might be.

Maybe it was time to make a profile on some dating apps.

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Your anxiety was sky high when you wandered through the venue, knowing he would be there somewhere. The venue itself was beautiful, the colour theme was red and cream, with touches of black, so all the decorations were set out to match. 

You took a deep breath, smoothing your dress as you scanned the room, your eyes landing on Jolly. 

You felt a relief wash over you at the familiar face, so you began to walk over to greet him and Nicole. 

“Hi!” You grinned, noticing their surprise as they turned around to see you. 

“Oh my God, y/n!” Nicole wrapped her arms around you, embracing you in a warm hug as Jolly chuckled. 

“Let her breathe, ‘Cole.” 

“Sorry,” she laughed, “You look so beautiful… How have you been? Jolly kinda told me about the... Situation…” 

“I’m okay,” you said, forcing a smile, “Just a little nervous about seeing him again. But that’s not what todays for, it’s Matt and Alyson’s big day and I won’t let him ruin it.”

“So how long have you been back?” Jolly asked, sliding an arm around his girlfriend's waist.

“I got here a couple days ago, I’m staying with Matt at the moment, but me and Folio are actually looking to find a place together around here!” 

Their faces screwed up, a look of horror washing over them.

“You and Folio…?!”

“As friends, Jesus!” You laughed, “He wants to get out of Noah’s place, and I’ve got to be out of my place by the end of the month, so you might be seeing a whole lot more of me.” 

“That’s great!” Nicole smiled.

“I’m sure Noah would agree.” Jolly smirked, before Nicole gave him a look, making him apologise. 

“So… Is he here?” You asked. 

“By the bar,” Jolly nodded, “I can’t believe he brought her.” 

Your chest burned, turning back to look at Jolly.

“Her?”

“You don’t know about Amy?” 

“No?” 

“Shit,” he ran his hand through his hair, “She’s this girl he’s kind of... Dating. I thought one of the guys would've told you.” 

“Why should they? What he does doesn’t concern me anymore,” you said, as if you were trying to convince yourself, “He can do whatever he wants.” 

Then, as you looked away again, you spotted him by the bar.

Noah.

It was like the air shifted the moment you spotted him. 

He stood leaning against the bar, a drink in hand as he spoke to Ruffilo. The sharp black suit he wore fit too well, his dark hair parted in the middle, falling over his eyes perfectly like it always did. 

He was still Noah. Still the stupid, hot bastard.

And then, as if he felt you staring, he looked up.

The moment your eyes met, the world around you quietened.

His posture stiffened ever so slightly, fingers tightening around his glass. For a moment, neither of you could look away. You noticed the look of surprise in his eyes, he clearly didn’t expect to see you here. 

You’d spent the weeks leading up to today trying to prepare for this, but nothing could have braced you for actually seeing him again. Especially when he looked this damn good.

Then, just as quickly as the moment arrived, it shattered.

A perfectly manicured hand curled around his arm, and a girl leaned her head on his shoulder. 

So that must be Amy.

She was stunning, the type of beauty that would make you turn your head on the streets. Everything about her was flawless, her hair, her dress, her makeup- if you didn’t know better, you’d think she was the one getting married today.

And suddenly, you felt small.

“Everything okay?” Jolly asked softly, snapping you out of whatever was going on in your mind. 

You swallowed hard, willing away the tightness in your chest as you nodded. 

“Yep... Never been better.” 

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As you all began to get into your places for the actual ceremony, you caught Folio, dragging him by the arm to the corner of the room. 

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about Amy?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your voice down. 

“I wasn’t sure how…” He explained, “They’re nothing serious, I didn’t even know she’d be here today. Fuck, I don’t even know how she is, she wasn’t invited!” 

"Nothing serious? Nick, Jolly told me they're dating!"

"Okay, maybe they are..."

“How long?”

“Huh?” 

“How long have they been together?” You said through gritted teeth, trying to keep your composure.

“...A few months.” 

You nodded your head.

You had no reason to be upset, angry or even jealous. He wasn’t yours anymore, he was never really yours to begin with. 

Your eyes drifted over to them, chatting by the front row. You watched the way her hand brushed his arm, the way he smiled down at her, looking at her like she was the only person in the room. 

You don't care. You shouldn't care. Why did you care?

“I’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head, “I shouldn’t care anymore, should I?” 

Nick’s expression softened, and he frowned as he took your hand in his. 

“You loved him… There’s no stronger feeling than that. If it was really real, you can’t expect to just make it stop.”

“I guess,” you sighed, your gaze catching a very stressed out Matt pacing the floor, “I guess we better get in our places.”

“Yeah,” Folio smiled, dropping your hand, “Good idea.” 

The two of you walked down to your seats, and you were glad to see you were in between the two Nick’s. 

“Oh, Nick!” You grinned as you greeted him, “I’ve missed you so much.” 

His arms pull you in to a warm hug as he stands up. 

“Hey! It’s so good to see you again… I missed you too, what happened?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, pulling away. 

“I get why you’d stop talking to Noah, but us too?”

“I didn’t think you guys would ever want to talk to me again,” you frowned, “I’m sorry.” 

“Of course we'd still want you in our lives, it'd be weird without you," he chuckled, "We all make mistakes, y/n."

“Yeah, some worse than others.” You sigh, sitting down in your seat. 

Your eyes meet Noah's again as you look up, like he had already been watching you. Your breath caught and you felt your face heat up as you quickly diverted your vision, and he did the same.

"We didn't tell him you were coming," Nicholas explained, "He asked me about you last night, I had to lie and tell him I didn't know if you'd be here."

“I’m starting to think I shouldn’t be.”

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The reception was beautiful, warm string lights draped across the garden of the venue, casting everything in a soft, golden glow as the sun began to set. You tried your best to enjoy yourself, talking with your friends, having a few drinks, meeting some of Matt and Alyson's other friends. You wanted tonight to be fun, for you all to look back with happy memories of it. But one thing made that difficult.

One person. 

You had done your best to avoid Noah all evening, but it was impossible to ignore his presence, the sound of his voice, his laughter over the music. Even when you weren't looking, you could still feel he was there. You tried to keep your eye on him to make sure you didn't come face to face unexpectedly. 

You had made it through the first hour unscathed.

Then, you slipped up.

You approached the bar for another drink, forgetting that he had been standing just a few feet away.

You noticed Amy had left early, as Noah was alone for most of the night, and through Jolly, you had learned the details of their relationship. She was a model and a wannabe singer who had reached out to Noah for help writing a song. Instead of making music, they clearly made something else.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but somehow, you both ended up side by side at the bar. Close enough that you could smell his cologne, the smell that was once comforting now filled you with nerves.

Noah barely glanced at you as he leaned against the counter, fingers drumming against the wood while he waited for his drink.

“You look…” He started but then stopped, shaking his head.

You slowly turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

“I look?”

“Never mind.” He scoffed, bringing his glass to his lips. “Forget I said anything.”

He exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing like he was annoyed with himself for almost slipping. The words had nearly left his lips, and for a moment he had forgotten how this was supposed to be, how he was supposed to act cold, distant, indifferent.

But you saw it in his eyes as he looked at you, and you heard the way his voice softened as he spoke to you. There was something there that told you he missed you, even if hed never admit it.

You hated how much it made your heart race.

A tense silence stretched between you, filled with all the things left unsaid. The kind that made it impossible to breathe.

Until finally, he broke it.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come today.” His voice was quieter this time.

“Yeah, well… They're my friends too.”

Before you could say anything else, the music slowed and Matt and Alyson’s first dance started.

Everyone turned to watch them sway together beneath the twinkling lights. The moment was intimate, beautiful, and it should’ve been nothing more than that. But standing here, next to Noah, watching two people so in love, it made your heart ache in your chest.

You thought about what you've lost, what you could've had with Noah. How this could've been the two of you one day, but instead you were stood side by side in silence, like you were nothing more than strangers.

You felt his gaze shift to you, and despite yourself, you turned to meet it.

There was something in his expression you couldn’t quite place, softness, maybe, or hesitation. Like he wanted to say something, but knew better.

Your fingers rested against the bar, just inches from his. Your breath hitched when his hand shifted ever so slightly, the smallest movement, like he almost wanted to close the distance. For a moment, it felt like nothing had changed, like the past year had been nothing but a bad dream.

But then reality came crashing back.

He had Amy now. He had clearly moved on.

And so you pulled your hand back.

His eyes flickered downward, landing on the necklace you wore. The one he had given you for your birthday. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words

"You still wear it?" He asked, almost as if he was in disbelief.

You swallowed hard, your fingers instinctively reaching for the necklace his eyes were fixed on. The one he had given you on your birthday, the day before everything turned to shit.

"I never take it off," you admitted, "I guess... It reminds me of you." 

Without thinking, he reached out, fingertips ghosting over the pendant and gently brushing over your skin, a barely-there touch that sent a shiver down your spine. But the second he made contact, something in him snapped.

His hand recoiled like he had been burned.

Without thinking, he reached out, fingertips ghosting over the pendant, a barely-there touch that sent a shiver down your spine. But the second he made contact, something in him snapped.

His hand recoiled like he had been burned.

He straightened, swallowing hard, his expression closing off as quickly as it had softened. Whatever moment you’d just shared, he crushed it, along with any hopes you had that maybe there was still something between you, that your relationship could be salvaged.

“Enjoy the wedding." He said, voice unreadable, before walking away.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, gripping the edge of the bar to steady yourself.

So that was how it was going to be.

Fine.

You finished your drink and headed back to the table where Nick was sitting with Jolly and Nicole. 

“Everything okay?” He asked, a slight smirk tugging on his lips. 

“Yeah. Why?” You questioned, sitting down beside him. 

“We saw you talking to him… What did he say?” 

You sighed, your eyes drifting away to him, watching how he laughed with his friends. At least he wasn’t hurting anymore, or so you thought. 

Noah, on the other hand, didn’t know how he felt. He had spent so long telling himself he was over you, that he had moved on. But the moment he saw you tonight, he realised that nothing had really changed. 

The feelings were still there.

And he hated himself for it. 

“He said he wasn’t sure I’d come tonight.” You finally say, turning back to Folio. 

“Was that it?” He scoffed, “The way he was looking at you I thought you’d come back and tell us he confessed his undying love-” 

“Nick, leave it, please.” You groaned, watching as Matt and Alyson still danced on the floor, a more upbeat song playing now.

“No. I know there’s something he’s hiding, y/n. The two of you need to talk, you need to-”

“Nick.” You repeated, “Stop. I don’t want to do this tonight. He has a girlfriend now, I need to respect that.” 

Nicole turned to look at you, an almost sympathetic look on her face before she got up, reaching a hand out to you. 

“C’mon, dance with me.” 

“Me?” You laughed, shooting a look at Jolly as if to say it should be you!

“Yes, you! We need to lighten the mood, and I love this song!” She grinned as she pulled you along to the dancefloor. 

Do you believe in life after love…

“You’re lucky I love you!” You grinned, "I wouldn't dance with anybody else!"

"Oh yeah?" She smirked, eyes trailing over to Noah, who seemed to be watching from the corner of his eye.

The two of you danced along, and after Matt left, Alyson joined the two of you. 

“Are you having fun?!” She shouted over the music. 

“We are now!” Nicole smiled. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally married!” You shouted, and Alyson nodded. 

“I know! And to my best friend… If only I could go back in time and tell myself… Things will get better…” You could see her eyes filling with tears, and you quickly wrapped your arms around her. 

“Hey!” You frowned, wiping away her tears, "None of that! This is a happy night!"

Alyson let out a teary laugh, nodding as she hugged you back.

"You're right. I'm just- I'm so happy, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before."

Nicole wrapped her arms around both of you, pulling you into a tight embrace as she called for a group hug.  

The three of you danced along to the music together for a moment, and for the first time in forever, you let yourself be happy. You let yourself enjoy the moment, surrounded by your favourite people, your friends that you considered family.

But then, as you turned, your eyes met his again.

Noah was still there, still watching.

His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his gaze that you couldn't quite place. A look of regret? Longing?

You weren’t sure.

And you weren’t sure you even wanted to know.

So, instead of lingering, instead of thinking too much, you turned back to your friends and let yourself laugh and have fun, you let yourself feel like everything was okay.

Just for tonight.

-------------------------------@bloody-spades @death-ofpeace-ofmind @miss570 @dominuslunae @dontwantthemoney @amelia-acero @noahslutbastian @blade-dressed-in-red @super-btstrash-posts @kait16xo @oobleoob @sunshine-lvrr @lacy1986 @enemiestolovershoe @samanthasgone

this is still a new taglist so if i forgot you (IM SORRY) or you want to be added please just let me know!! :)

[kingdomvel]

Nobody said it was easy

First chapter of my new Steddie fic out now!

Read on ao3

Summary:

On the Fourth of July 1985 Eddie Munson decides to go to the cinema to watch Back to the Future. His curiosity gets him involved into something crazy and dangerous, but at least he gets an unlikely friendship with Steve Harrington out of it. Now, if only he could not fuck it up. aka Eddie gets involved with the upside down at starcourt, starts hanging out with Steve, and by the time Vecna comes things are complicated.

Excerpt:

“I’ll go sleep on the couch, if you need anything.”

Steve opens his eyes to look at Eddie and frowns. “Why?”

“This is the only bed here,” Eddie says with a shrug. “And you need it more than me. You have also made yourself waaaaay too comfortable for me to make you move now.”

“Shit,” Steve says as he starts getting up. “Sorry, I didn’t think-“

“The king hadn’t realised some of us peasants don’t have beds for guests?” Eddie doesn’t like how Harrington flinches at his words, but he needed to do it. Go back to the familiar.

“Yeah I… Sorry, I’ll take the couch.” He moves to stand up from the bed, but Eddie stops him.

“Lay back down, really, I’ll be fine.”

Harrington scoots back again tentatively. Then stops. “Only if you take the bed with me.”

Eddie lets his eyes roam the bed, Harrington. There is room for two people, but they will be close. Very close.

It must be the trauma, the look in Harrington’s eyes, how fucking exhausted Eddie is. He sits down on the space Harrington has made for him. They both settle down on the bed. Eddie turns off the lights, and everything changes, even with the lights from outside coming in through the windows.

Eddie stares at the ceiling as he listens to Steve fucking Harrington lightly snoring next to him. This will definitely go down as the weirdest day in Eddie’s life.

[randomshyperson]

One Of Your Girls - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

summary: A study session turns into a make out session. Or the one where the most beautiful girl on campus is your situationship and you would never refuse to distract her, even during exam weeks.

words: 3.820k | warnings: (+18), college au, fuck buddies, popular!wanda x loser!reader, mostly smut but there’s actually some plot here, bottom!wanda (we need way more of this sorry), oral, fingering, some dirty talk, reader is briefly described to be shy and introverted because of the loser archetype, w and r are actually super comfortable with each other don’t be fooled, text messages are in bold cause i never tried that before.

A/N-> I have written more than 100 works for wanda, but I don’t remember ever writing casual sex before. To be a demisexual is really something, huh? Anyways, this was actually based on “One of Your Girls” from Troye Sivan, but around the middle I just started doing my own thing honestly. Good reading!

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Song-Based Collection

-&-

To inspire students to have sharper minds, as she likes to say, Miss Harkness is known for having the hardest tests on the entire campus. This means that you needed to study seriously for next week's exam, without quick readings or breaks to watch the television or talk about anything other than Applied Sociology with your friends.

And definitely, no 'study' sessions with Wanda Maximoff.

You shouldn't even think about Wanda, and her emerald eyes and bold hands. You need to think about Émile Durkheim or Max Weber, and any other sociologist from past centuries, with their difficult theories from which long and complicated questions will be in your exam.

But Wanda and the casual thing you two have is like clockwork. You had barely made up your mind about keeping your distance, and prepared a proper study session in your dorm - empty that afternoon due to a divine miracle that occupied Natasha and her girlfriend Maria all day - for your cell phone to vibrate with the notification from the person you had decided to ignore.

Stealing a glance at the contact name, you grunted quietly and turned your attention back to the book that had just finished reading the first page.

Focus.

Another vibration makes you roll your eyes.

Wanda didn't do anything wrong, maybe you could just say you’re busy.

"I am bored."

Her text makes you laugh through your nose. Typing quickly, you don't expect a return to your "And I’m busy. Talk to u later."

Your cell phone vibrates again, but you stand firm. Sociology will not study itself. There's a shift of pages, and you taste some of the mint tea from the mug on the table before your cell phone rings again.

Maybe it's someone else. It may be important.

You can’t even fool yourself.

The book is placed on your lap, and you unlock the screen for a photo that brings a warm color to your ears and spreads around your body as quickly as this whole thing began.

"What if I was in public?." You type with a certain harshness, which doesn't match the way your heart missed a beat. Or how you've completely forgotten about the book now, and all you can do is bite back a sigh at the image of the prettiest nipples in this galaxy.

Wanda responds in the same second, and you want to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of her feeling eager for a response from you.

"Kinky."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "You're the worst" That's what you type. You end up sighing when looking at the pile of books around. Wanda only needed one stupid photo to completely take your focus away.

She types before you can tell her off for it. "Are you in your dorm? Wanna see you."

You bite your lip. She is so infuriating.

"I have to study."

You can almost hear her giggling on the other end. "Don't you always?"

You think about cursing at her teasing, but you don't want to cross any lines. It's true that this relationship is a constant push and pull, but Wanda isn't clingy for no reason. You're about to ask if something happened when she adds "Are you really gonna force me to send another photo..."

You swallow hard. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. I was innocently studying until now.”

It takes her a moment, but finally, there's another photo. With your fingers shaking, you forget to breathe at the image of her thighs, a red garter belt in contrast to the pale skin, barely covered by her mini-skirt. It was such a simple image yet so provocative, Wanda truly had talent.

"Fuck me." You sigh quietly, unable to type anything back for a moment.

And so she does it first. "Did I melt your brain?"

“Please come here.” You begged, only imagining her smirk on the other line.

Wanda typed back a second later; “I thought you were studying. I wouldn't want to distract you.”

You huckle incredulously at her cynicism, and almost type back a curse but end up deciding to get up instead, hurrying to make the room less messy for your guest.

Wanda takes a while to show up at your room - Unlike you, she lives on the other side of campus, in an apartment shared with her brother. The outfit she's wearing is definitely more impressive in person, and you have to control yourself not to feel jealous at the realization that a good part of the university has just seen her parading around looking so stunning. This was definitely Yelena's doing, the one responsible for trying out everything she learned in her course on her friends and successfully dressing the whole group like supermodels.

Sometimes you wish you were more sociable, at least to be friends with Yelena and get new clothes.

Not that you have any idea of ​​this, but Wanda did a great job of hiding the way her stomach did two flips when she saw how comfy you looked, the dark green sweatshirt covering your shorts making her immediately think about exploring underneath.

"What's up, loser?"

Wanda had this problem. High defense barriers, almost all the time, but especially when she was feeling things that were out of her control. Like the way her heart raced in your presence, or how she was starting to run out of decent excuses to meet you without admitting the only reason was simply because she wanted to spend some time together.

When you first talked, freshman year, she was the most intimidating person on campus (she still is), but with a little insistence (or friends playing cupid) you had managed to see sides of her that no one else had seen. And vice versa.

It was a pretty interesting dynamic, the most popular girl on campus and a big nerd with social anxiety were somehow dating. Wanda dragged you to parties whenever possible, a possessive hand on yours and a threatening look at any idiot who thought of giving you a hard time. And often you end up in some drunken Instagram live or records of friends making out in the background.

When you weren’t doing the things she liked, Wanda would just show up. After your classes, in the study hall, during your break from your internship, and in your dorm. She didn’t mind showing you off, but there was something so soft about spending time alone. When her defenses were down, the mean girl mask would fall and she would laugh at your stupid jokes, or dress up in your clothes to make pancakes in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t an official relationship, but it was something really closer to one. Something that gave her free rein to come and go as she pleased from your life, and mess everything around as she went.

You made room for her to enter, and she gave a long kiss to your cheek before leaving her shoes at the entrance. You were blushing when you closed the door.

The dorm you shared with Natasha had little more than the space needed for two beds and two desks, but somehow you and her managed to squeeze in enough decorations on the walls and even some of her ballet and fighting awards. Your side was covered in band and movie posters and science holiday medals. A barely used keyboard sat dusty in the corner, and you had made a mental note to show Wanda how to play Over the Rainbow sometime. She tossed her backpack on the corner of your desk, and you hurried to try to clear up some of the clutter on the wood, blushing even more when she chuckled. 

“Come here.” She asked softly, and you swallowed hard as you stumbled closer to her again, guided by her hands holding your wrists. Wanda actually wanted your arms around her, and that’s where she put them. So her hands went up to your shoulders. “You always get so shy when we’re alone.” 

“I am shy.” 

She shakes her head slightly.  “That’s not true,” she says, leaning in close to brush her lips against yours. You gasp slightly, and Wanda pulls away, teasing. "You're an introvert, but no one shy says the things you say when you're turned on, darling"

Yochuckle, shaking your head with pink cheeks. "Shut up." 

She bites back a smile, and leans in, but the kiss is too short, it's so unfair. You try to chase her mouth, but Wanda pulls away to hug you. And that surprises you as much as her breathing deeply into your neck. 

You don't remember hugging her before. Not really. There's plenty of sex of course, and making out and pillow talk and late-night snacks. But Wanda isn't the type to cuddle, or hug. It gives what you two have an intimacy that you understand she doesn't want to have, or didn’t, past tense. 

Your hand caresses your back, and you're not quite sure if you should say anything but finally you do; "Is everything okay?"

It's like throwing a bucket of cold, reality-filled water over her. She breaks the hug, forcing a laugh that doesn't convince you at all.

"Of course!" She says, pulling you close at once and giving you a kiss that's much more determined than before. That almost makes you forget where you were, almost. "Let's take these off." She pulls the folds of your sweater up, but even though you let her, you risk:

"Wanda, are you sure-"

She cuts you off again, this time kissing you with tongue. It's definitely hotter, and it elicits a breathless moan from you. Her hand holds your face, controlling the kiss until you whimper against her mouth. Wanda lets you breathe as she pushes you by the shoulders to the bed, and you fall sitting, facing her.

"I said take your clothes off." She repeats, but it's her who puts on a little show. She pulls off her blouse at once, and the exposure of her breasts covered only by a red lace bra leaves you mesmerized. Wanda giggles at your reaction. “Every damn time.” She teases, her hands moving to undo it. But you move suddenly, grabbing her hips and pulling her onto your lap in urgency. Wanda gasps in surprise at the heated kiss, losing herself in the task of removing her bra as you start to suck on her tongue. With one hand on your shoulder for support, the other ruffles your hair before she feels her bra loosen on her body, not having even noticed your hands working on the clasp until now. She bites her bottom lip as she feels the item being pulled away from her body. 

“You’re getting better at this.” She teases again. You look at her with lust-bright eyes but also with a frown.

“Better? When have I ever been bad at this? Certainly not with you, because you came three times on your first time together.” 

Wanda raises an eyebrow at you, her hips grinding slowly against your lap. “Like I said, not shy at all.” You roll your eyes, gripping her hips a little more firmly to guide her movements. It's Wanda who chases your mouth again, returning with equal fervor every kiss you give her.

Your hands let go of her hips to slide down her thighs, until finally touching the garter belt. You break the kiss with an affected groan, and Wanda takes the opportunity to catch her breath a little. If the image of her swollen lips and dilated pupils wasn't enough to drive you crazy, looking down did. Her skirt was wrinkled up, and the red garter belt was truly a sight. A damp spot was now visible on your pants from all her grinding, and you would have time to feel proud of making her so aroused with just kisses later.

As you pulled the garters and made them slap gently against Wanda's skin, you smiled when she shivered, a breathy moan escaping her mouth. It was such a beautiful thing, turning all her bad girl attitude into a pathetic mess of whimpering.

But suddenly you remembered that she had walked across half the campus wearing this, so your clenched jaw had another reason.

"Did you get dressed up for me?"

Wanda gave a short laugh, not really understanding what you were saying. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You glared at her, your hands giving another warning tug, and Wanda wanted to hate the way her body twitched, but she couldn't help it.

"If not me, who?"

She blinked in confusion, deep in her own lust. 

Why were you still talking when she was literally dripping on your lap?

"What are you-" She fell silent when you grabbed her throat, your grip making her thrust her hips in desperation for friction, her mouth opening in a needy moan. Her own reaction surprised her, and Wanda would have tried to work things out if you hadn't taken away her ability to respond when you kissed her again, dirty and hard until she started whimpering on your tongue again. When you pulled apart again, your fingers invaded her mouth and Wanda's eyes widened, realizing that this might be the first time she'd come without even being properly touched.

You seemed to have noticed the same thing, a chuckle escaping you as she began sucking on your fingers with the same fervor she was trying to grind into your lap.

"Tsk, look at you, Wanda." You began, your hand moving from her throat down to her garter belt, to pull it off again. "You really want me to believe anyone else can turn you into this needy mess?" Flushed with arousal, Wanda still manages to frown in confusion. Anyone else. What the hell are you talking about? There’s no one else.

But suddenly, you remove your fingers from her mouth, and when she tries to ask, it's too late. Your soaked fingers have moved down and they fill her without warning, sinking inside her and eliciting a throaty moan that makes her head fall forward, forehead to yours, and nails digging into your shoulders. You laugh hoarsely. "Fuck, you're so wet, Wands."

The dirty sound of your fingers moving inside her echoes in the room along with her breathless moans, but you don't prolong things for too long. There’s an urgency and roughness to your movements that makes Wanda roll her eyes back and bounce on your fingers in animalistic desperation.

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—” It’s always such a beautiful sight. She arches on top of you, spasming as her climax hits her and spreads hot waves of pleasure. Your hand is soaked, but you pull your fingers away to lick them one by one as Wanda tries to get back into orbit.

When she finally does, it's rewarding. It's your turn to have your throat grabbed, and Wanda presses forward until you're lying on the bed, at her mercy, even as a smile plays on your lips.

It's time for her to shake that smugness off your face.

"You're overdressed." It comes in a warning tone, and her hands go down to remove your clothes, one by one. You help her, between one kiss and another, a touch and a squeeze, until finally, Wanda ends up on your lap again, this time, with no fabric between you other than the beautiful lingerie she picked out for you.

Oh, of course she lets you know.

"I don't want you to get any more cocky than you already are." She began between the countless breathless kisses you were exchanging, minutes on end in this hot make-out session. "But all I could think about when I bought it was how you were going to look at me." She takes advantage of your gasp in surprise to bite your lip and pull, making you tremble. With a smug little smile, Wanda looks at you with darkened eyes. "And how were you going to take it off."

Your hands move of their own accord - There's a hard tug to pull her against you, and you end up rolling around on the bed, until Wanda ends up underneath, writhing at your touch. Your fingers slipped under the belt again, but now you take your time to remove the item, slowly until Wanda couldn't hold her breath any longer.

Stealing a glance at her dripping pussy that she displayed so proudly on her parted legs, you clicked your tongue again before finding your space in her middle, your hands fitting behind her thighs.

"You spoil me, you know?" You whisper, feeling her fit her ankles into your back, an impatient whimper escaping her. You were so close to where she wanted, needed, but still not giving her what she was begging for. "I don't know what I did to deserve such a sweet gift."

Wanda tries to play along, she really does. But you give her a tentative lick, and another, and all that escapes her are shaky moans, as one hand grips your hair, the other seeks support in the sheets. Something she can pull at will without hurting.

She feels hot in all the right places, and she wants to police herself for how addicted she is becoming to the feeling of having you like this, but it's impossible to think about that right now. With you eating her so well and making her forget all her problems.

You hum suddenly, satisfied at the taste, and at the vibration, Wanda loses it. There's a loud whimper escaping her throat as she arches against you, begging for more, but you hold her in place, your own hips grinding against the bed as Wanda starts to sound desperate for your tongue to go deeper.

When you risk teasing her again, shallow tongue strokes that leave her dizzy and shaking, Wanda loses her patience. She curses under her breath, and grabs your hair with determination, managing a satisfied grunt from you before she forces your face against her pussy. Not caring if she’s hurting you or suffocating you, Wanda chases her high with near desperation. She grinds her hips against your face, and locks her legs behind your back, using you until she comes.

She sounds so hot when it finally happens. Your name drips from her tongue as she drips into your mouth. It’s so strong that her body instantly goes weak, her legs shaking around you. You chuckle against her thigh, taking great satisfaction in leaving her like this.

Still catching her breath, she calls out. “Come here, asshole.”

You think she wanted a kiss, maybe another orgasm. But Wanda just adjusts you to her side, so she can rest against you. This is new too, spooning. It's the kind of thing casual encounters shouldn't do.

Of course she notices how tense you've become, and it only takes the moment for her to stop shaking for Wanda to look up, her chin resting on your chest.

"You don't have to overthink everything."

A nervous laugh escapes you. "I wasn’t."

Wanda makes a small grimace of unconvincedness. "I know you were. It's what you do. It's one of the things that makes you, you." She says, and it takes you a little by surprise. She sighs then, and looks away, resting her face against your chest again. You almost think she's not going to say anything else when she continues. "It's good that you think of all the possibilities. That way I'll never be able to disappoint you, you'll always see it coming."

You frown, absorbing her words in silence for a moment. Wanda begins to draw patterns on your stomach that look like her initials, until you sigh.

"I know we haven't named it what’s between us, but whatever it is, you can always tell me what's bothering you." You let her know quietly, your fingers playing through the strands of her hair. "And we can just talk, you know? It doesn't always have to end in sex. You don't have to get a new lingerie as an excuse to see me. No matter how hot you look on it."

She pinches you for the joke, but she’s smiling when she looks back at you.

“You’re not good at the whole casual sex thing, are you?” She teases, but she’s genuinely so happy with your previous words that she just can’t hide it.

You smile, watching her hover closer and closer. “You think? Because I think I’m doing pretty well at this, miss-Oh, baby, I’m gonna come,”

You do an imitation that makes Wanda's eyes widen and she blushes deeply while she huffs in embarrassment. You burst out laughing when she tries to cover your mouth and stop the teasing, and it ends up turning into a small fight of hands and tickles until Wanda ends up underneath again, now with her hands pinned on either side of her head.

There is an exchange of glances between the two of you, and you are smiling just like her.

You know that today, Wanda will not tell you what bothered her, what brought her here. She is right, however, you’re an overthinker and already have a hundred possibilities for what could have brought her there, and considering that you know from her friends how much she has been fighting with her father in the last few weeks, it is not hard to assume it is related to that.

But Wanda returns the intensity of your gaze, and you know that something between you has changed. She will tell you when she is ready.

Your grip on one of her hands loosens, and Wanda uses the opportunity to touch your cheek.

"What are you thinking about?"

You sigh, and she can tell. Her heart misses a beat, and she considers if she’s ready for a confession. If it would scare her or make her so happy, she would freeze. Maybe both. 

But you grimace a little, and smirk, and Wanda feels silly for even considering.

"I'm definitely going to fail Miss Harkness's class this semester."

Wanda frowns and then bursts out laughing, confused and incredulous.

"What?" She asks between laughs. “Why would you be thinking about this now? With a naked girl in your bed, you nerd!”

You giggle at her words, your free hand fitting on her waist as you wait for her to stop chuckling. "I don't know why you're laughing, this is your fault. You ruined all my study sessions with your... distracting presence."

She rolls her eyes in a playful manner. “"Well, I could always just leave-"

You grip her waist tighter, holding her in place. "Nah, who cares about classes anyway? Come here."

Wanda will definitely help you study, she makes a mental promise. But she will kiss you first just a little longer.

[reidcutensshotch]

Skin S.R

Summary, Garica helps Spencer see there’s more than JJ he didn’t realize how much you cared for him because he’s been shutting everything out besides the future with him an JJ it was hard for him to see you even though you been there for him too .

Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Content: comfort/hurt

Content warnings: heartache , pinning for Spencer at the wrong time or is it at the wrong time , hurt comfort reader try’s to pull away vulnerability, unspoken truths , 

Word count 1k

Author notes: first fic on this account please be gentle please thank you . This song hits different for me . It fits him too .

Dividers : @saradika-graphics & @enchanthings-a

I wish you knew that even you . Can't get under my skin If I don't let you in.

Spencer sat at his desk, a pile of case files scattered across the surface. His mind, however, was not on the case. His thoughts lingered on her—the constant ache in his chest whenever JJ’s name came up. JJ. She was always there, bright and kind, and yet, Spencer couldn't seem to let go of the idea of being with her.

He knew, deep down, that he should move on. But it was hard. It always was with JJ. She had this way of being everything he needed, and at the same time, someone just out of reach. He had tried. He tried to convince himself that maybe there was a chance, that somehow, she'd see him the way he saw her. But he always came back to this: a cycle of hope, disappointment, and self-doubt.

Maybe it was the quiet comfort of her presence, the way JJ was there when the world seemed too much. And maybe that’s what kept him stuck. He couldn't help it, could he?

“Spence?” A voice broke through his thoughts. It was Garcia, walking into the bullpen with her usual cheerfulness.

“Hey, Garcia.” He forced a smile, trying to mask the heaviness he felt. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore, but he also knew Garcia could read him like a book.

“You’re still daydreaming a life with JJ, aren’t you?” she asked with a soft sigh.

Spencer rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know how to stop.”

I mean she told me she loved me …

Garcia leaned against the desk, crossing her arms. “Spence… you’ve been holding onto this for way too long. I get it, you love her. But sometimes, you’ve got to face the truth. Maybe it’s not meant to be, and that’s okay. You can’t keep living in this dream world where things turn out the way you want them to.”

He stared down at the case file, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was just too afraid to let go.

“Have you ever thought about...maybe...there’s someone else?” Garcia said softly.

Spencer blinked, glancing up at her with furrowed brows. "Someone else?"

Garcia's eyes flickered toward you—sitting at your desk, buried in paperwork but with a subtle softness about you, a quiet understanding that Spencer couldn’t deny.

You had always been there. The quiet, kind person who listened when he needed it most. You didn’t push him to talk, but when you did speak, it always had a way of making him feel seen. And yet, he’d never once allowed himself to see you in that way. Not like that.

Why hadn’t he noticed before? He caught his breath, feeling a strange pang in his chest.

Garcia’s voice brought him back to the present. “You know, not everything has to be so complicated, Spence. Sometimes, we overlook the people who are right in front of us, just because we’re too wrapped up in the idea of what could be. Maybe you should stop looking at what you think you want, and look at what’s really there.”

Spencer swallowed hard, her words lingering in his mind. Had he been so focused on the idea of JJ that he failed to see what was standing right in front of him?

He glanced at you again. This time, his gaze didn’t just linger—it searched for something. And as his eyes studied the way you worked so quietly, so effortlessly, there was a growing realization that maybe, just maybe, you were everything he needed.

But it was a thought he hadn’t allowed himself to entertain until now. How could he have been so blind?

A tight knot formed in his throat. Why didn’t I see it sooner?

You looked up then, your eyes catching his, and there was a softness in your gaze, like you knew exactly what was going on in his mind. Spencer quickly looked away, ashamed of himself.

How many times had you been there for him? How many times had you listened? And yet, he never once thought to see you like that.

Garcia’s voice was gentle as she spoke, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You deserve to be happy, Spence. But you can’t keep holding onto someone who doesn’t feel the same way. You deserve someone who sees you, who values you the way you’ve always wanted.”

He nodded, though the words seemed so much harder to grasp than they should have been. Maybe Garcia was right. Maybe he didn’t need JJ. Maybe what he needed was to stop looking so hard at the past and start seeing what was in front of him.

Spencer stood frozen, the words you had said to him swirling in his mind like a storm. He felt an overwhelming guilt, the kind that twisted his chest and made it hard to breathe. You had always been there, quietly supporting him, but he hadn’t been able to see it—he hadn’t been able to see you.

You watched him, your heart aching with the weight of everything left unspoken. The room felt suffocating, and the silence between you both was like a wall you didn’t know how to climb. You knew Spencer had been holding onto the idea of him and JJ for so long, and you understood it. You really did. But what hurt was the realization that, despite all this time, he hadn’t seen you the way you had hoped.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. This isn’t about you, you told yourself. You have to let him go. But it wasn’t easy. Nothing was ever easy when it came to Spencer Reid.

“Spence,” you started, your voice quieter than usual, “I know you’ve been holding onto this idea of you and JJ for a long time. I get it.” You felt the words hit you harder than you expected. The truth stung. “If you’re not ready to move on, I understand. But I’ve been here, in front of you, the whole time.”

You could feel your hands trembling slightly, a quiet sign of the nervousness and pain that was trying to break through. You clenched them together, trying to hold it in.

"Maybe I should take my own advice," you continued, letting out a shaky sigh. "Maybe I need to stop making up illusions in my head about us." You forced yourself to look away, not able to meet his eyes as your heart pounded in your chest. "It’s not healthy," you added, a weak laugh escaping you as you wiped your hand across your face, trying to keep it together.

You took another step back, your throat tight, but you knew this was the only way. “I know I’m not JJ. I know I’m just me.”

Spencer’s chest tightened, his heart beating louder in his ears as he watched you pull away. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, frozen in place, guilt flooding him. He had been so consumed by his feelings for JJ, but now, looking at you—really seeing you—he realized the distance between you two had been of his own making.

But then, as you turned to walk away, he felt a sudden panic grip him. His legs moved before his mind could catch up, and in a moment, he reached out, grabbing your arm gently to stop you from leaving. His touch was tentative, unsure, but there was something desperate in it too. Something that screamed he didn’t want to let you walk away, not without a chance to explain himself.

You froze, your heart racing, and the knot in your chest tightened. This is it, you thought. He’s going to tell me to go.

But when Spencer spoke, his voice was low and filled with a quiet remorse. “Please... don’t walk away.”

His words were almost lost in the heavy silence between you. He hadn’t realized it until this moment, but now, standing in front of you, he saw everything he had overlooked—how you’d always been there for him. How he had pushed you away, blind to what was right in front of him. The realization hit him like a freight train.

“I didn’t know how to... I didn’t know how to move on from the idea of JJ,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “I thought if I held onto that, maybe I wouldn’t feel this... this emptiness.” His eyes locked onto yours, his expression vulnerable and raw. “But now I see... I see that I’ve been holding onto the wrong things.”

You turned to face him, your eyes brimming with emotion, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. It was as if time had paused, and everything that had been left unsaid was hanging between you.

Finally, you spoke, your voice barely audible but filled with quiet strength. “Spence, I’m not asking for anything. I just wanted you to see me—really see me.” You took a deep breath. “I’m here, Spence. But if you can’t—if you’re not ready—then I have to step back.”

The words felt like they came from somewhere deep inside you, a place you hadn’t wanted to reach. But it was the only way to give him space, to give him the room to make his own decisions.

You took another step back, and Spencer felt something inside him crumble. He could hear the gentle hum of Garcia’s voice from across the room, watching from a distance, but it felt distant—almost irrelevant now. All he could think about was you.

Before you could move further, Spencer spoke again, his voice trembling. “I don’t want you to step back,” he said, more forcefully now, as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. “I... I’ve been so focused on the wrong things, and I’m sorry for that. I’ve been blind to what’s been right in front of me.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but there was a flicker of hope inside you. Maybe there’s something here. Maybe you had been wrong to think you’d need to give up on him entirely.

“Spence,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you met his gaze, “you don’t have to apologize. I’m just... I’m here. You don’t have to be alone in this.”

His hand reached out slowly, almost uncertain, but this time, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let him take your hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the midst of the uncertainty. Spencer’s eyes were searching yours, his own feelings written plainly on his face. He didn’t know where this was going, but he was willing to find out. For the first time, Spencer felt like he wasn’t running from his own heart.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, softer now, but with more conviction. “And thank you... for being here.”

[killerlittlerejects]

@ellzilla @xxsweetoothxx THEY’RE FINALLY DONE FINALLY HERE AHHHH

These are SO overdue, I’m so sorry 😭 but here are your pretty clowns for your goofy goobers! There’s so much more I wanted to do, but the sickness said no lol.

Oh grumpy Jill, my beloved ❤️ god, I never actually thought we’d get grumpy Jill, but after everything that’s happened to her in this universe? I don’t blame her.

Jack and her… well, they have pretty complicated relationship. There’s still levels of care and love there, but she absolutely hates his guts at the same time. He isn’t the same Jack that she’d fallen for all that time ago, and she isn’t the Jill he knew anymore. Most of their interactions would be them insulting/yelling at each other, as mean as that sounds, but every now and then… ya get those very rare, silent moments of affection.

The best way I can describe her is that grumpy old neighbor across the street that everyone is afraid of, but is actually really sweet and kind when you cut through that stony exterior (granted she still mean as fuck LMAO). She def beats up Jack for dragging poor Will into his shenanigans.

Next we have the wonderful Daz/Dazzle! AKA Jill/Julian

I recall that (please correct me if I’m wrong) that Jack/Jill are kinda the same entity, and with Ragz haveing a more feminine form, I wanted to do the same with Daz. As the centuries moved on, they really developed a love for the Gyaru fashion and really loves to doll themselves up. I picture there’s and Ragz’s relationship completely platonic, they’re more like siblings than anything else. Dazzle is very protective over him and will do anything to make them happy.

I headcanon that they have a drag act called ✨razzle dazzle✨(see what I did there?). I also think they have a thing for Jeff LMAO

Finally, here are so cute head shots! I showed them before, but I wanted to show them again because I think they’re so cute >W<

I really hope you guys like them! 

[seriousbrat]

what do you think the wizarding world economy is? I don’t think they’re capitalist, they’re obviously not communists, but I’m not sure beyond them. sometimes I think it must be a state run restricted market but maybe it’s just a bunch of cottage industries? they don’t seem involved in agriculture.

I kind of see the WW as a culture of the upper classes only, like the majority of magical folk occupied a higher classes status than serfs (like those in a religious order, maybe, and aristocracy) which further complicates this question

omg I'll be honest, I'm not super well versed in economics to be able to give a very educated or definitive answer to this haha, but it's an interesting topic! Also there's not that much specific information in canon, because I don't think jkr gave this any thought whatsoever lmao. Which to be fair is not really necessary to do in a kid's fantasy.

The government does regulate the market-- such as with Percy's cauldron bottoms haha. Percy mentions that this crucial world-changing bit of legislation is specifically meant to address imported cauldrons, indicating there is trade with other nations, and trade agreements. The Ministry also regulates import/export, which we also see with Ali Bashir and his carpets. Given Crouch and Percy's attitudes towards both Ali Bashir and the foreign cauldron bottoms, I think it's very possible that the Ministry's policy towards international trade is generally protectionist rather than free-trade. Tariffs for everyone! 😬

It seems as though goods are generally produced through craftsmanship rather than large-scale industrial processes. As far as I can remember there's never any mention of any factories or true industrialisation of any sort, rather goods such as broomsticks, snitches, wands, robes are produced by hand, on an individual basis by dedicated craftsmen.

So you could be right about cottage industries being prevalent in terms of internal trade; it's honestly probably some sort of mixed economy with maybe lingering elements of mercantilism (which would make sense given they're 'behind' the Muggle world in many respects.) but I'm not certain what, if anything, Britain would export. Possibilities are potions ingredients, broomsticks, robes (this would be a good parallel to Britain's history with the textile industry) or, perhaps, floo powder.

Floo powder is maybe an interesting product to look at. According to this pottermore entry on Floo Powder, manufacture of Floo powder is strictly controlled, and "no shortage of Floo powder has ever been reported, nor does anybody know anyone who makes it. Its price has remained constant for one hundred years: two Sickles a scoop." So that does seem to indicate a high level of intervention in trade by the Ministry. Also i have no idea what the fact that the price hasn't changed for a century says about either inflation or currency rates lol.

Anyway, tbh I think they must engage in agriculture in some fashion, because a girl's gotta eat and we know that food cannot be magically produced. I guess it's possible that they somehow exchange with Muggles (or other wizarding states. this seems more likely. maybe spain lol, since a lot of produce sold in the UK is grown here.) But I tend to think they're mostly self-sustaining.

Agriculture can be made much more efficient through the use of magic, basically eliminating a lot of the manual labour involved. You'd also need much less space (and it's already a reduced population) and could potentially speed up the time it takes to grow crops. The Weasleys have a vegetable patch and pigs and chickens-- many magical families seem to live in rural areas so I can imagine there might be a system where families who grow crops and/or keep livestock can trade in surplus produce for refined goods such as flour, oil, etc or 'luxury' goods like chocolate. Some sort of state-organised smallholding situation makes more sense to me as opposed to large-scale agricultural production.

As far as I can recall, we have no canon examples of anyone going shopping for food. But there must be something in place. The Hogwarts kitchens must go through an incredible amount of supplies (and yes food can be magically multiplied, but even so) and it has to come from somewhere. It's likely that the Hogwarts house-elves deal with procurement themselves.

Speaking of which, there's also the factor of slavery forming a part of this society and therefore the economy. We know of the existence of 'elf-made wine,' although this is treated in canon as a luxury good. It's likely that most wine is made through magic. There's a spell that produces a 'fountain of wine' and it's unclear whether beverages are beholden to the food exception to gamp's law. Either way it's almost certainly possible to transfigure grapes directly into wine, and therefore wine produced artisanally (by elves) is given more value. Basically I don't think they have elves engaged in industrial-scale labour, but they still form a part of the economy in some way.

And the other thing to consider (and that we don't know) is to what extent the goblins are involved in the wizarding economy and in what way. They control the only bank and also control the production of currency. I developed some Goblin lore a while ago, which you can find here, but something I theorised is that Goblins don't actually value wizarding currency internally within their own society (rather precious metals themselves) and basically use it as a means to exert some influence over wizarding society, to keep themselves afloat so that wizards don't completely subjugate them the way they have the house-elves. Technically the Goblins (as I envision them) would be Bullionist I believe. But the wizarding economy and the goblin economy would be closely intertwined, basically interdependent.

So... I'm just not sure how all this would be defined lmao. This got very long because I was just vomiting every possible thought about the wizarding economy lol so sorry. Perhaps someone who knows more about economics than me (art degree lol) would be able to give a better answer haha.

like the majority of magical folk occupied a higher classes status than serfs

Regarding this-- we have a few examples from Beedle, which is really our only source of information about how magical people lived pre-Statute of Secrecy. Babbity Rabbity is a washerwoman for a King who hates magic, for instance. Of course, this is fiction in-universe, but I think it still gives some indication of what life was like for witches and wizards at the time. Similarly the wizards in 'Hopping Pot' live in a cottage in a small village, but on the other hand the Warlock in 'Hairy Heart' is wealthy and lives in a castle. From this, I would hazard that witches and wizards were most likely present in all levels of society pre-Statute. (and this also follows since a child born to Muggles can have magical ability, they wouldn't suddenly be relegated to a different social class) We know some, like the Malfoys, had close ties to the nobility, but likely not all.

[superectojazzmage]

Elaborating on the “you have to love something to deconstruct it right” with Invincible; Robert Kirkman LOVES superhero comics and manga that hits similar vibes to superhero comics like Dragon Ball and such. He was a longtime proud member of comic book fandom before he started writing professionally. And that’s a big part of why Invincible is so good - both the show and the comic, with the show basically just being Kirkman remaking the comic (one of his earliest works that put him on the map) with the skill and experience he’s gained since. Kirkman knew all the classic superhero plots and lore and tropes and such, and he used that knowledge to craft a story built around toying with those things.

He didn’t do it out of spite. He did it as a genuine effort to write a good superhero story that essentially took the core ideals of the genre and explored how they would hold up when faced with a more mature and morally complex setting, as well as taking the various cliches of superheroes to their logical conclusions. And all the while using this to explore themes of how people respond to gaining power, what it really takes to make a positive difference in the world, and the harsh realities of growing up. And the ultimate conclusion it draws is that, yes, real life is more messy and complicated than old school comics and you can’t just punch all the world’s problems away, but even so there is good and evil and people who do the right thing for its own sake will ALWAYS win out in the end over those who don’t.

That’s even the meaning of the title and the main character’s name. As Nolan says in the first issue/episode, Mark begins the series thinking he’s “invincible” in a very shallow, materialist way. By the end, he learns the hard way that he absolutely isn’t… but the ideals that he represents ARE and are the thing that really stops the villains.

The violence was a key part of it all. Aside from just allowing for awesome fight scenes and setting the comic apart from Marvel and DC (since it really is, when you get down to it, Kirkman writing the kind of stuff he’d write at those companies if not for their censorship and editorial restrictions), it also ties into the themes of exploring and dissecting superhero tropes. In real life, violence isn’t like the stuff you see in Silver Age comics, with Superman and Batman harmlessly and easily punching out goons with no mess. There’s blood and a million ways things can go horribly wrong for everyone and collateral damage. And it further shows the kind of effects superpowers would really have in violent scenarios (i.e., how getting punched by something strong enough to lift a building would probably turn you into a stain on the wall) and explores the long term effects of such violence (Chicago spends YEARS in-universe rebuilding after the first really big fight). But even with the blood and gore, it’s still about superheroes saving people and fighting villains.

The Boys doesn’t have ANY of that thought and warmth in it. Because it was conceived entirely by a bitter, nihilistic douchebag who hates superheroes and everything they represent as a genre and just wanted an excuse to jerk himself off by having his OCs murder thinly veiled stand-ins of the superheroes he hates (while carefully avoiding the ones he actually hypocritically likes). And, hey, Ennis is free to do whatever he wants with his writing, but that doesn’t mean I can’t say that said writing sucks to read if you aren’t of the same breed of smarmy, self-righteous edge lord as he is.

Hello, I hope you don't mind me rambling, but: Invincible > The Boys. One thousand percent. Because although Invincible has dreary undertones and excessive gore and the shit people hate about "serious superhero" content, it still has that glimmer of hope. Mark is a genuinely good character and person who wants to do good and protect people! Hell, even Omni-Man — the one everyone calls an anti-Superman or a deconstruction — literally goes against this because he also grows as a person! He was raised in an environment that corrupted him, and yet in the end, goes against his own species to protect people. With The Boys, there's no real feeling of hope or the chance that people grow and change like in Invincible. The Boys makes you feel hopeless; Invincible doesn't. It's why I think it's far superior. I hope that made sense, I just had to get this ramble off my chest LOL

I've never seen Invincible but you're not the first person to tell me this, so it sounds like it might be a pretty good show. Hope is central to all good and proper superhero stories. Hope that things can be better. Hope that people can change. Hope that standing up for what's right will lead to victory. Part of why I hate "deconstructions" is because they usually get rid of the hope. Kind of gleefully, really. You can feel the writers jaded cynicism infecting every pore of the story. And I have no time for that.

[shiningstarr15]

Alright I’ve seen enough takes on this and while I understand everyone’s viewpoint and validate it I want to give mine bc mine is probably a very niche perspective.

When it comes to the relationship between Gregory and Vanessa, I do view them as siblings. And no not in the umbrella way, not in the “this is the only thing that makes the most sense” sort of way, I mean they have sibling energy period. And I’ll tell you why.

Bc I do not view them as being immediate found family. At all. They have too much trauma both independently and with each other. I don’t even think they’d like each other very much at first. I feel like their initial relationship would be more of a ”you saved me so I’ll return the favor by helping you out” way.

Personally. I don’t think relationships with strong bonds should immediately go into something romantic or familial (maybe it’s cuz I’m raging aroace and very platonic/queerplatonic bc I know that’s an unpopular opinion) but in my eyes, you NEED TO BUILD A FRIENDSHIP FIRST. and I think that’s exactly what they’re gonna do.

They’re gonna slowly and gradually form a friendship, one that most people would think is strange and unusual bc it’s an adult and a child but let’s be fr neither of them are what you’d consider “typical” (yes I personally hc them both being ND. Again, this is my opinion). I also don’t think they don’t really give af what people think. So why would they bother putting a label that they don’t really agree with on them? No imo they won’t do that unless they truly do mean it.

Again, this could very well be projecting. But I am personally someone that doesn’t like being given a “sister” label unless it’s actually meant. Maybe it’s my extreme sibling complex. But I don’t think I’m wrong for feeling that way. And imo, I think overtime they would view each other in the way best friends view each other as siblings. I don’t even think there would even need to be anything legal. But if there was, she would be a legal guardian at best. Bc it still gives the freedom to identify how they choose. And to me, it’s very similar to Lilo and Nani from “Lilo and Stitch.”

Bc I think two things can be true at the same time. Vanessa can be a caregiver, and have some responsibilities when it comes to making sure Gregory is ok and kept safe. But also, she herself needs someone to take care of her. Bc she can’t. And while I do like the idea of Freddy taking care of them both, I also like them taking care of each other.

She definitely has aspects that could be seen as maternal, but I don’t view her as essentially parental. She simply isn’t ready. There’s too much trauma and a bit of emotional immaturity (again not a bad thing, she’s very childlike imo). I think she sees him more equal than that. Not someone that is helpless and needs to be watched 24/7. But someone that needs a little guidance every now and then. And that’s where I think looking up to her in an older sibling kinda way comes in.

She’s like a combined playmate and caregiver. An equal partner but also someone that takes on the worst of the burden so he doesn’t have to. Even though he will do so anyway bc he cares that much about her.

So yea, that’s my take on their relationship. Again, it’s just my opinion, and I understand people not agreeing and wanting something else for them. But this is how I choose to view them, and I don’t think that it’s wrong ❤️

[unfortunatelyilikebnha]

Thinking about the KaeyaJeanDiluc friendship where they grew up together and they were CLOSE & sure maybe Jean felt like Diluc & Kaeya were closer since they were brothers & sure maybe Kaeya felt like he had to keep secrets from the two of them bc they would never understand but they were like. A trio! A team!

& then Diluc’s 18th birthday comes around and everything goes to shit and Diluc LEAVES so they’re no longer KaeyaJeanDiluc but just Kaeya & Jean & in some ways Kaeya and Jean get closer because of it but there’s also a pronounced DISTANCE where Jean doesn’t know how to reach Kaeya anymore & Kaeya is even more determined not to tell Jean anything & they both lose themselves in their duties to Mondstadt while also missing Diluc and ALSO, despite everything, offering each other unconditional support

& then Diluc comes BACK & in addition to Kaeya & Jean there’s the shaky reestablishment of Jean & Diluc and Diluc & Kaeya but it’s not THE SAME. they’re no longer KaeyaJeanDiluc; Jean & Kaeya are knights and Diluc will never be a knight again & they all changed while Diluc was away & none of them know how to talk to each other anymore AND YET there’s still an undercurrent of trust!! Not fully, especially between Kaeya & Diluc, but Diluc still calls on Jean during the archon quest, trusting that she will keep their secrets even though as the acting grandmaster she should probably not. Jean says in her about Diluc voiceline that she understands why Diluc hates the knights & is working hard to make them an organization he can trust again. Kaeya covers for Diluc’s darknight hero escapades & fondly reminisces about their childhood in front of him. Diluc invited Kaeya to dinner at the winery & (afaik) never told anyone about Kaeya’s origins. Kaeya tells the traveler that they need to give Jean their full support and planned a birthday party for her. Jean left Kaeya in charge of Mondstadt when she went to the golden apple archipelago! On some level they recognize that their goals still align!! There’s still trust and love there but there’s also this gap between them that none of them know how to cross and I just!!!

[friendscfmine]

“Oh!  Yes,” Richard says.  “The Marshes—that’d be them.  Don’t worry about Randy, though; you’re not really missing much.”  He has such a complicated relationship with Randy Marsh because on one hand, the guy legalized cocaine in a single day, and that could be very useful.  On the other hand, he blew up the Tweaks’ yard after taking a shit in it.  So, Richard has to weigh how much of the nonsense he is willing to tolerate to benefit his own agenda.

“It’s a pity; he used to be such a brilliant mind.”  He shakes his head and tuts, then raises his eyebrows.  “But he’s been rotting his brain with drugs.”  The mention of drugs gives Richard a little thrill.  He knows it’s risky bringing it up at all, especially setting himself up as an anti-drug person.  She’s old enough to be too smart for that, but it’s also possible that she’ll overthink herself in the opposite direction.

“So, my advice would be to keep away from him and his farm, but I know I can’t stop you.”  He shrugs it off.  “I know how you kids get—I might as well be telling you to beeline straight for it by telling you not to go.”

She is right to assume that the Tweaks are not swimming in money.  They are far from the richest family in town, but he and Elayne have devised a way to retain customer loyalty, so they don’t have to worry about going completely broke for a long time yet.  Even with the Harbucks moved in next store, there will be rioting in the streets if Tweek Bros. Coffee gets shut down and people can’t come in for their fix.

“I’d say there are some small towns that do all right for themselves, honestly!  But certainly, change will happen whether you really want it to or not.”

He takes the paper from her and glances down at her shaking handwriting.  It looks a little bit like Tweek’s, and Richard smiles to himself at the thought, knowing that his wife will be able to parse it just fine.  She might even think their son wrote it.  “Thank you!  I’ll be sure to give this to her.  Like I said, she knows much more about it than I do, so I figure I better let her decide if it’s worth the trip or not.”

South Park being full of people who lacked a general sense of awareness really was such a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it allowed Ava to stay in town without having to worry too much about hiding herself, where anywhere else she would have to be bundled up to the nines any time she wanted to go anywhere - or she'd have to go back to running around at night. On the other... The adults really did seem to lack any sense of what was going on in town. She'd been around enough of the kids at this point that she can tell that they have a little more worldly awareness than some of the people decades older than them.

Richard seems to somewhat be an exception to that rule, as he is at the very least a little more observant than the others. That has been a constant battle for Ava, trying to decide if it is worth it to try and avoid him at all costs, or if that would simply make things worse for Tweek. No matter what she felt about Richard personally, her fondness for Tweek would overrule her own feelings. She was a tough girl, it would take a lot more than someone being observant to truly make her want to fully avoid them.

Brows furrow at the name, feeling that it is very familiar, but being unable to fully place why. She knows a lot of the kids, plus Jimbo and Ned, by their first names only. Last names have never held too much importance to Ava, and therefore were usually forgotten far before she forgot a face and a name. "...I really only know the name of the kids." The fact that there was a family who moved to a farm did sound really familiar too, but she can't place which kid that is between her own nerves and the jumbling of information that she's had to process. At least three of the kids she knew - Tweek included - had some sort of big family drama she was trying to keep up with. It probably wasn't Craig, at the very least, from what she has pieced together it didn't seem like his parents would be staying together for much longer. "...Stan's family?" Ava guesses, taking the most likely route. "I've only met Stan, never met his parents."

"That... Seems to be a pretty common sentiment in town." Planet hopping had all but taken the familiarity out of staying in one place and not uprooting from her. "But that's 'cus of economic growth, right?" Watching as he adjusts the napkin holder, her hand moves, like she's about to nudge it herself. "Small towns don't do well unless they embrace a little bit change, and 's hard to let go of places that have been around for a while." She can't imagine Richard is raking in a hell of a lot every month, perhaps just enough to keep up with the bare minimum, but what does Ava know, really?

Now, Ava does reach out for a napkin, pulling one from the holder and a pen from her pocket. She goes silent for a few moments, taking her time to write each flower name so that they are readable. Her penmanship is still rough around the edges, but at least Ava thinks that Richard should be able to read it as she turns it around and slides it towards him. "Here, those are the names. In case she does wanna go out, or if she wants to write 'em down herself." Balancing the basics of as many written languages as she has so far makes her slower than she likes, and Ava makes a mental note to find a better way to do this so she doesn't have to ponder each letter.

[righteous-r0de0]

i know we’ve all been talking about porter being so upset about sam and vincent leaving the house but here’s my thoughts.

i think he’s so upset because it’s something he could conceivably do. it’s something he could have done a long time ago. after his maker’s death, he was sort of coerced into joining the house of solaire out of gratitude and reciprocation to william. if he were a different person, he could have just fucked right off, been his own person, or started his own house even. but he won’t. because he feels he owes william for everything he’s done for him. he feels he doesn’t deserve any better than the hand he’s been dealt.

so in short, he’s upset because he knows he can leave, but also knows in his heart of hearts that he can’t or won’t leave.

do i think william will ever let porter leave? no. he’s too useful as a willing participant in his schemes. he’s particularly useful because william most likely plays on the fact that he believes himself to only be a tool capable of dirty work that nobility couldn’t be bothered with.

even if he were to express an interest in leaving the house, william would act as if that’s something that’s okay for him to do, but manipulate him into staying regardless.

william makes him feel needed.

[lambmotifz]

honestly one of the reasons why i’m not into “stanford era wincest” is because it’s purely a headcanon and it’s giving “broken up boyfriends” which i really don’t see fitting sam and dean’s fucked up dynamic, not to mention that they’re brothers and the sexual/romantic relationship between them would have to be more complicated than that (which is why i don’t see them getting sexual earlier than s3). dean might have tried to call sam a few times when drunk but canonically they didn’t see each other pre pilot

[eucatastrophicblues]

@joanofarcs-stigmata I had too much to put this in a reply, because I think you hit on a really important distinction

Folk Catholicism - and I mean real enculturated folk Catholicism, not what I see a lot of people practice where they’re essentially saying “I’m a folk Christian so I can be a witch” - is informed by and shaped by more standard Catholic practices and doctrines, and is in constant conversation and dialogue with more traditional ways of worship, and exists in a space of openness to correction and criticism from within and without. It’s a way of interfacing with culture and with supernatural power while honoring all your roots and valuing all your heritage, and it also often uplifts or spotlights minority perspectives and allows for members of colonized cultures to find culturally-specific meanings in the faith. And you’re right, it doesn’t have the transactional aspects, because it’s often practiced by the people who developed it to accompany or enhance or personalize a universal Church, and so it tends to prioritize God in ways that I’m really comfortable with.

but I do have a problem, and the problem is, unfortunately, neopaganism again.

I’ve seen a lot of people (particularly white people) be drawn to folk practice because they see it as a way to essentially be a polytheist without being a polytheist (I’m a Catholic but I’m a Catholic who also gets to worship the Goddess Brigid, or I’m a Catholic but I also get to worship Aphrodite or Athena) or to kind of apply the witch-cult hypothesis to Marian theology or to assume that because God is, you know, God, He is less specific than Zeus or Baal or Tyr or whoever you like about how He wants to be worshiped. the assumption that Christianity has no culture and no mysticism or personal connection to the divine so you have to go buy crystals about it.

and I think a lot of people also act like fake folk Catholicism will save them from having to face and wrestle with the unpleasant or restrictive aspects of what God demands of us. I can engage with the iconography and imagery and parts of the worship but I can disown the parts of the faith I don’t like (often removing themselves from culpability for the Church’s massive mistakes and fuckups around the aforementioned minority cultures because they’re not really Christian).

also, the polytheism, like, we can’t be doing that, people.

it’s a very complicated knot. lots of people who are folk Catholics (including myself, by some definitions, since I see corn and say a Hail Mary for cultural reasons) are genuinely trying to strike a balance between different demands and desires. and some people are ringing the bell at the counter asking to speak to a manager. sigh.

like I get it, being witchy and occult is in vogue right now, and I’m not ever going to tell someone it isn’t real or it’s not a valid spiritual practice

but we have a God who spent an excruciatingly long amount of time explaining to us how She wanted to be worshiped. part of worshiping a specific god of any sort in any pantheon is being aware of their preferences and desires - why is the way She wants us to worship Her no longer good enough? why do we need to look elsewhere? we are not supposed to divine, to use magic, to invoke without cause. there are rules. we should follow them.