#i will eventuality make this the problem of the fictional idiots

[ofhouseadama]

I used to think that because my trauma started from birth that there was no me from before the trauma to go back to. I was jealous of people who knew a version of themselves "before."

When in reality I have always been there. I was forcibly estranged from myself by trauma. It was safer for me to remain so fully dissociated from myself in order to survive my childhood and early adulthood.

But she's always been there, waiting for me to come back. I've always been here. I need to meet her. I need to meet myself.

And in so many ways, that's scarier than thinking I've never had a self. Scarier than jealousy. Scarier than resentment.

And at 30, I'm ready to do the work.

[mimisempai]

As easy as a phone call

Summary

Crowley has to leave and makes Aziraphale promise to use his smartphone a little more. Hesitant at first, Aziraphale eventually gives in to the urge and discovers that modern phones can be very useful.

Notes

A silly little thing about them and phone call

On Ao3

Rating G -  455 words

Crowley was about to leave for a week to teach an astronomy class in the countryside. 

Before he left, he'd grabbed Aziraphale's cell phone from a stack of books, turned it on, and held it out to the angel, saying, "You know, you don't have to wait for me to call or text. And not just when there's a problem. Anytime you want. For any reason."

Aziraphale loved his old phone, and this was definitely one of the modern things he had trouble getting used to, and besides, Crowley was with him all the time, so he didn't have to text or call.

So he had hesitated for the first few days, not wanting to seem too clingy, after all it was a special time for Crowley and Aziraphale was so glad for the demon to have something that excited him like that. 

By the end of the third day, he hesitated, pulling his phone out of his pocket several times an hour before finally deciding not to call.

It wasn't like he had anything special to talk about anyway.

However, by the end of the day, he was dying to hear the demon's voice, and since he hadn't heard from him, he decided to call.

"Yes?"

"Crowley?"

"Well, it's about time, Angel. I thought I finally had to call you."

"What? So you did it on purpose?"

"Yes, and it worked, didn't it?

Aziraphale grumbled, "You deserve that I hang up on you."

"Oh, Angel, don't be like that, I'll stop teasing you, I promise. So, what were you doing nice before you called me?"

"Right now? I was reading Persuasion."

"What? But you've already read it 8, no 12... I don't know how many times."

"I can't help it if it's something I love..."

There was silence on the other end of the line, then Crowley asked, "Angel, I didn't catch the end of your sentence, you were saying...if it's something you what?"

Aziraphale repeated, "That I love."

"What?! The network must suck where I am. Again, Angel!"

"That I..."

Aziraphale realizing he was being fooled, muttered, "Crooowleyyyy... don't tell me that..."

Only a chuckle answered Aziraphale, who continued, "You little rascal, you know there was an easier way to get me to say those words..."

"I love you."

Aziraphale laughed softly and replied, "I love you too, you idiot."

They continued to chat, Crowley enthusiastically telling him about his astronomy sessions, Aziraphale filling him in on the little details of his daily life at the bookshop.

Much later, as they hung up, the angel finally thought to himself that these modern telephones were a wonderful invention after all, and promised himself that he'd call his demon again the very next day.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2 - Part 1 - Part 2

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[frodothefair]

Modern Eothiriel! The Rancher and the Model

The plot bunnies are multiplying, aren't they? Today, I got an idea for a modern AU. I don't know if I'll ever actually write this -- and my personal opinion is that a modern AU may as well be an original fiction nine times out of ten -- but here goes. My favorite thing about modern fiction is that I can easily draw on personal experience.

Lothíriel is a young fashion model who lives and works between Italy, France, and occasionally New York. On the surface, she has a glamorous, fast-paced lifestyle, but originally, she is from a mid-sized city in an Eastern European country, and her family is various levels of problematized, so she helps them financially whenever she can. (For instance, her father, Imrahil, is elderly and disabled -- and also a patriarch who runs the family with an iron fist; her brother Amrothos is an on and off unemployed alcoholic, Erchirion is a put-upon small business owner, and Elphir is a doctor, but institutional medicine in that country is notoriously underpaid, so he spends his time juggling his work at the hospital with private-pay clients, as well as pulling strings to get his brother into treatment).

Éomer and Éowyn are siblings who run a horse farm in the upper Midwest (a region of the United States), raising horses for show and for racing. Their uncle Theoden, who bequeathed them the farm, passed away in a tragic accident some years ago, and Éomer and Éowyn are finally taking a vacation, for the first time since his passing. They rent a property in the South of France, in a picturesque historic beach town called Eze, and they aim to stay and soak up the sun for at least a week or two.

Little do they know that the picturesque location is the site of a modeling shoot, and that's how Éomer meets Lothíriel. (The idiot probably wanders into the modeling shoot by accident, because he's too overawed by the scenery, and his head is all but literally in the clouds).

Their connection is instant, and they continue to meet at local restaurants and cafes, and explore the coast and nearby Nice on her days off. When they part ways, they continue to talk online, and over the coming months and years, they make time to meet between their respective commitments, in a different European city every time, where they spend their days lounging around rented lofts talking and making love, with occasional forays out into the world to attend cultural venues and find sustenance and libations.

But in the end, every long distance relationship is fated to end -- either by calling it quits or becoming short-distance. As a model, Lothiriel's days are numbered: most models do not stay in the industry past their mid-twenties, and modeling is increasingly less of a career, and more of a way to pay for whatever will happen next.

As such, eventually Lothíriel and Éomer do get married, and have a beautiful wedding that transcends time and space, celebrating by turns in her home country, then in one of Lothiriel's erstwhile "home bases" (Paris or Milan), and then on the horse farm. But after the dust settles and reality sets in... what then?

Inevitably, a life on a horse ranch is less glamorous when it's a day to day endeavor rather than a getaway. What is spiritually healing, relaxing, and exotic for a week or two can become spectacularly dull, especially when one's husband is often gone, the business side of running the farm is hopelessly opaque, and the nearest city with an airport and any modicum of "culture" as Lothíriel understands it is a two hour drive away. To make matters worse, the nearby small town, beneath its quaint veneer, has a drug and unemployment problem, and the local women of her social class are seemingly from another planet: they enjoy hearing her stories but see her an outsider, and their predominant interests are gardening, church potlucks, and perhaps bookclubs where they consume more wine than words.

Fairly soon, Lothíriel is at loose ends and even depressed, wondering if she has made a mistake, and if she and her husband have anything in common. After all, it's one thing to live jet setting lifestyle, meeting only from time to time, but quite another to live together when one is used to rising early and the other is a confirmed night owl.

Can Lothíriel find a place for herself in middle America? Can she find a way to be useful and bring her experience to bear? And most importantly, can she be a support and a partner to her husband as opposed to a listless and unhappy weight? Only one way to find out!

What do you think? @emmanuellececchi @konartiste @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @celeluwhenfics

[skylarsblue]

May I make a request for an age regressed reader who really wants Bo Sinclair to watch MLP with them?

Or did I already send this? I don't know. ;-;

(I’m gonna assume this is Gen 4 because that’s the best one (fight me). Also, first age regression request! FLUFF TIME)

❀Bo w/ A Regressed MLP-Fan Reader❀

✧Age Regression; AGE REGRESSION IS NOT A KINK I DON'T WANNA HEAR ANY ARGUMENTS. It's cute and y'all need to accept it.✧ ❤Fluff, no cursing this time, hard opinions on fictional ponies, GN!Reader, a singular mention of a kink but it's just some silliness, reader briefly implied to have long hair but it's barely there❤

Age regression is a pretty niche thing to talk about, even more so back in the early 2000s. Gonna be real, bub, he's not gonna have any clue what you're talking about if you bring it up.

Seeing you regressed probably first happens as an accident, a stressful situation became too much and you just started acting differently. He wouldn't get it, watching you grow subtly more clingy and quiet, timid almost. He'd be concerned but he wouldn't ask questions at the time.

Assuming you brought it up later, he'd need you to explain it in at least three different ways, honestly. He's never personally experienced something like that(he thinks so anyway), which makes it hard for him to understand.

"Your brain just...makes you act like a kid sometimes? Why?" "Because my childhood was trash and it wants to find a way to cope. Being an adult is stressful, Bo." "...You got a point there."

After he's grown to understand it, he won't have any problems with it. Oddly enough, he'll slowly start to find it cathartic for himself. He'll find himself getting a lil dopamine boost whenever he starts noticing you doing something that signals you're teetering.

Won't indulge you in front of his brothers unless his brothers start to act kind of caregiver-ish. Bo don't share.

You will absolutely ruin the daddy kink for him. He can't hear the word in that context anymore and it makes him cringe when he does.

Bo doesn't like cartoons, he never really has. He's never really been a TV person in general, it tends to serve as background noise whenever he's doing something else. But he does have a habit of saying he won't be watching the show you're watching, then he'll just stand behind the couch, forgetting the task he was about to start.

Will probably tease you for liking My Little Pony, I'm not gonna lie. Nothing too mean though! He just likes making you all pouty.

He's gonna roll his eyes and cringe when you ask him to watch it with you. He's a grown man! He doesn't have any business watching a "little girl's show". But he's got a soft spot in that charcoal heart of his, so eventually, he'll cave. But he's gonna complain!

He'll probably scoff and act like the show is killing his brain cells at first, but he's an idiot because he gets so invested. (Magic of Friendship boi)

His favorite is Apple Jack. I think that should be a given. He doesn't like Celestia though, feels a little too connected to Luna and he holds a grudge.

He starts to whistle the tune to the songs in his free time. He'll lose his mind and die on the inside if anyone points it out, because he's not doing it subconsciously. Except you. If you start singing to his whistling he's gonna just smile, cause he's a SAP.

"Bab Seed Bab Seed, what we gonna do-" "A bully on our tail gotta r- Oh son of a-" "YES! YES YOU KNOW THE WORDS!" "You hush your mouth."

When there are big villains in episodes he gets super into it. He acted personally offended when Discord made the Main 6 reverse their talents.

He did laugh when Chrysalis zapped Celestia but then immediately got upset when the other princess were affected.

Definitely had the song from Chrysalis pretending she was Princess Cadance stuck in his head for like, a month.

WILL buy you the toys but you gotta keep them in your room, he'll keel over in embarrassment if someone sees little pony figures on his shelves without the context.

He's kinda stingy about sharing you when you're small, but he'll allow his brothers to watch the show with you two if they want. Vincent probably likes the music, but he's not super into it. Lester might get more into it than you, actually, he likes pretty colors.

Vincent's favorite would be Twilight & Lester's would be a tie between Fluttershy & Pinkie Pie.

Once a group of tourists came into town in the middle of a long Two-Part episode and he missed most of it, so he drove into the city and just bought the CD of the entire season. FOR YOU, of course, TOTALLY NOT FOR HIM-

The TV was bright in the overall dim household, speakers turned up to allow the sounds of the cartoon to fill the room. The noise was coupled with the sound of crunching Goldfish crackers between your teeth, eyes tuned into the screen as calloused fingers worked through your hair. "Oi, eat your fruit too. Can't live off Goldfish." Bo said softly, nudging your leg with his boot. You were sat on the floor in front of him, between his legs, whilst he messed with your hair. You let out a little huff but grabbed the pastel bowl on the coffee table, poking a fork into some strawberries. You looked over your shoulder as you ate one, awaiting praise. "That's better." Bo mumbled, patting your shoulder.

You turned back to the screen, watching the group talk about Fluttershy's "stare". With a little hum to catch his attention, Bo looked down, waiting for your words. "Who's your favorite?" You asked softly, voice picked up in pitch slightly. Bo rose an eyebrow and glanced at the screen. "Apple Jack, she's the only cool one." He said, unable to stop the smirk as you gasped. "Fluttershy's cool!" You insisted, turning to face him. "She's a wuss-puss, doll. Not cool." He taunted, chuckling as you tossed a pillow in his face. "Don't hate the messenger! I'm just saying the truth!" He chuckled as you smacked him with the pillow again, which he blocked with ease, snickering as you settled into his lap with a pout. "You take that back!" He held his hands up in a faux surrender position. "Alright alright, they're all cool. How about that?"

Your gaze narrowed suspiciously at him, slowly lowering the pillow back onto the couch. "Mmm okaaay-" "Except Fluttershy." Bo laughed again as your mouth dropped open in offense, blocking your hands from getting the pillow once more. Left without your weapon, he squeezed you tightly, leaving you unable to use your arms. "You traitor! Bully!" The man snickered as you fought against his strength valiantly, only to dramatically give up a minute later. "I'm too tired now. I'm sorry Fluttershy, I've failed you." You mumbled with a tiny frown. Bo rested his chin on top of your head with a chuckle. "I'm sure she'd appreciate your efforts, doll. Now finish your fruit, took me forever to cut'em into shapes, ya know." He said, grabbing the bowl. You hummed and tapped your chin as if you were debating, looking at the ceiling in thought. "My hands don't work." You said suddenly, dropping your hands into your lap.

Bo rose an eyebrow and tilted his head. "Oh they don't, do they?" He asked, watching you shake your head. "Nope, they don't work." You insisted. The brunet clicked his tongue and gave a somber sigh, putting a piece of fruit on the fork. "Such a shame." He said with an eyeroll, holding the fork to your mouth. You took the fruit and nodded intensely. "'S a shame!" You slurred, whining when he pinched your nose. "Don't talk wit'cha mouth full." He said, moving his head so yours could rest against his shoulder, getting another piece of fruit on the fork for himself this time. He looked back at the episode and narrowed his gaze. "...the hell is a cockatrice?" You laughed and shook your head, taking another strawberry off the fork. "You'll see, and it'll prove Fluttershy is the coolest!"

"Mhm, sure, whatever ya say lil' one."

[thegayhimbo]

Say "I know nothing about the history of Russia's treatment of Ukraine (the Holodomor being one such example) or what's currently going on between Russia and Ukraine" without saying it. 🙄😒

For those who can't access the video due to the "age restriction," here is a transcript of the 60 Minutes interview with Scott Pelley interviewing Freed Ukrainian Prisoners of War:

SPOILER ALERT: The following video/transcript contains descriptions of beatings, torture, rape, starvation, child deaths, and human rights violations.

As for "Russia is not continuously bombing all civilian infrastructure and committing a genocide," there have been multiple posts and articles over the past 2 years proving otherwise (including their recent attack on New Year's Eve). This also includes the Russian war crime of Ukrainian children being kidnapped by Russian soldiers, deported to Russian reeducation camps, getting brainwashed, and being used as Russian Propaganda tools:

Between the 2:27 and 2:37 mark, Isobel Yeung (the narrator) doesn't mince her words when she notes how Vladimir Putin and his cronies are accused of trying to "ethically cleanse a generation of young Ukrainians."

If you've read this far, you can probably come to the conclusion that imtryingsir did absolutely zero research, or even cared enough to follow the last 2 years of news about the Russian-Ukraine War, before making their abhorrently idiotic comment.

So why am I bothering to dignify this with a response when it's clear this person is being maliciously stupid? Because of this post. Specifically, the disgusting little remark they made where they tried to justify why a Jewish woman on social media deserved to be bullied/harassed (which eventually led to the Russia apologist comment above when they were called out on it by multiple Tumblr users):

Putting aside the gross victim-blaming and thinly-disguised antisemitism (which I'm sure my Jewish followers are deeply sick of at this point), what really gets me is how disingenuous this user is. They don't actually give a rat's ass about what's going on in Gaza: Someone who truly cares about genocide and the deaths/suffering of innocent people wouldn't be going out of their way to downplay/whitewash the genocidal actions of another country (Russia), or making comments dismissing another groups problems/trauma while dehumanizing them, or even straight up wishing for more death and destruction:

People like this (as well as the so-called "Pro-Palestine" users in the Jewish woman's post who were harassing her) are devoid of empathy. They relish in being cruel and condescending to others because they feel empowered in doing so, and they know they can get away with it without facing lasting consequences. They are doing nothing to help alleviate an already horrific situation, and are just making the world a worse place to live in. I'm sure they'll tell themselves the sweet little lies about how their bullying and antisemitism is really "activism" or "caring for Palestinians" or "Being antizionist; not antisemitic" (while continuing to spew the same bigoted rhetoric that Jews have been calling out as antisemitic for YEARS). At this point, I truly don't give a damn what their excuses are since they will grasp at anything, no matter how flimsy, to rationalize their behavior.

I never thought I'd see the day where a bunch of Leftist/Westerners would embody two of the most loathsome fictional characters in media (right down to their hateful, sadistic, vile attitudes), and yet that is the point we've currently reached:

To say this has been deeply unpleasant to witness is an understatement. 😒

I talked about this in a recent post about antisemitism from the Left, and I'm going to reiterate something I said: "There is a larger conversation that needs to be had about how selective Leftist empathy and compassion really is. By this, I’m talking about people on the Left who will a.) Only be compassionate/empathetic when it’s convenient for them, or b.) Only be compassionate/empathetic towards people they think are “deserving” of it."

People like imtryingsir only prove why it's important to have this conversation: If you're perfectly okay dismissing/downplaying the suffering of one group of people (be it Jews, Ukrainians, Palestinians, etc) so you can prop up your preferred group of people who are suffering because you think they are more "deserving" of empathy/compassion......................you need to do some serious self-reflection about the type of person you've become.

[ryuwonieebae]

Besties²(Enemies)²Lovers

---------------------

𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐎 (디노) Imagines, One-shot

Genre : Fluff, romance

Pairing : nonidol!Dino x fem!reader

Warning : Cursing, pet names(?)

When they went from being besties to forced married cat and dog turning the whole house upside down...

---------------------

"AHH!! Y/N!!!" grabbing the fragile glass on the table, he threw it at you, which you missed by an inch by tilting your head a little. You stuck your tongue at him and ran away laughing like a freaking witch came out from a horror movie.

Chan being him started chasing you with water dripping down from his wet hair. His grey shirt was almost wet from all the water you poured on him.

Dino ran after you down the stairs at a rapid speed that even a cheetah would be no match for him. But unfortunately, he wasn't able to catch you as you were running and hoping [left & right] making it hard for him.

"Can't you stop annoying me for once?!" Dino asked you in a demanding tone still running after you.

"No" your reply was simple and sweet which made him more furious.

"What is even your PROBLEM!?"

"YOU of course! Who else? I guess I've told you that for the millionth time. You should have thought twice before calling me an idiot!"

"Ahh, really? You're unbelievable" he mouthed still can't believe your remarks.

Even when you're running, an evil idea popped into your mind which was to push Dino into the swimming pool. But you didn't know that it was the stupidest idea ever. You purposefully sprinted towards the swimming pool which went unnoticed by Dino as he was busy trying to catch you.

As you found the perfect timing to push him when you were just beside the pool, you grabbed his left arm by your right hand and put your other hand on his back, and pushed him with full force. But luck was not on your side as he held your waist and pulled you together with him into the water. And that was the moment you realised that you fucked up.

Taking deep breaths and wiping away the water on your face, you attempted to swim away from Dino which eventually failed when he pulled you closer to him by your waist causing you to bump into his hardened chest. You looked up at Dino who was staring at you with much passion enough to make your heartbeat get rapid.

Abruptly, Dino came closer to your face and cupped it with his right hand while the other hand caressed your back slowly. Startled at his actions, you just stared into his eyes not knowing what to do. Dino took this opportunity and tilted his head placing his delicate lips on yours. You froze as he slowly moved his lips to yours. A tingling sensation ran through your body, somehow something in you made you kiss him back. You could feel his lips forming a smirk but you didn't care. You put your hand around his nape and deepened the kiss. Your lips moved in sync, and suddenly the cold atmosphere turned warm. And nothing mattered at that moment. It was only about you and him with your passionate kiss.

You slowly parted your lips from him, breathing heavily while your face bloomed crimson red. Dino chuckled while his face was turning red too.

"So this is my punishment?"

Dino nodded quickly placing another peck on your forehead.

"Do you love me?"

"Maybe"

Dino splashed the water at you for your teasing remarks.

"I guess I should kiss you again to make you realise my demonic angel"

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A/n : +This fanfiction is purely based on my imagination only.

+It's totally fictional

+I hope this is good enough to make you guys happy. I'm still learning to write in a creative way. Thank you for supporting me. It means a lot to me. Thanks to my besties too<3...

[sharkface]

im on your side about fandom misogyny and how gayness is used to excuse it but that example sounds like literally like one or two guys within your social circle problems, not "people on this website". i don't want to invalidate how you feel, because I ran into this kind of problem with the bloodborne/pathologic fanbase. but also can we just be more direct when we are vaguing people who are fucking idiots

This is absolutely not one or two dipshits in my orbit, I'm kind of confused why you'd send this when by saying it's prevalent in other places you yourself are acknowledging it as a greater trend. This isn't even really a "fandom" issue, GBT men in general are just as capable of ignoring and benefitting from misogyny as cishet men are. I was just pointing out some especially notable recent examples of this, which I've been seeing on a larger scale for years. People have been doing it to other misogynist pieces of fiction (think BBC Sherlock, Supernatural, Reanimator, etc) since the dawn of fandom as we know it on this website lol. Doesn't even really matter if the series eventually did have LGBT people in it, I don't really prefer that that be built on a foundation of misogyny either way.

Idk I'm not trying to be a cunt or anything, I'm not assuming you have bad intentions, but if I thought it was just one or two bad apples I would probably just block them and move on. The "validity" of my feelings isn't really important, I think saying that people's misogyny and racism is going to end up coloring their engagement with fiction is as objective a statement as I can make.

[twistedtummies2]

Gathering of the Greatest Gumshoes - Number 22

Welcome to A Gathering of the Greatest Gumshoes! During this month-long event, I’ll be counting my Top 31 Favorite Fictional Detectives, from movies, television, literature, video games, and more!

SLEUTH-OF-THE-DAY’S QUOTE: “I am on a mission to protect the world’s idiots!”

Number 22 is…Ranpo Edogawa, from Bungo Stray Dogs.

“Bungo Stray Dogs” takes place in a world where many have gained superhuman abilities, so much so that it’s sort of become part of everyday life. (My Hero Academia is looking on with interest.) The plot focuses on the eternal conflict between two different organizations: the Armed Detective Agency, and the Port Mafia. The Agency is a group of superhuman private detectives, who use the combination of their sleuthing skills and their special powers to try and disrupt the Port Mafia’s activities…except when the Mafia and the Agency have to work together to down WORSE criminals, but that’s another story for another time. Interestingly, all of the major characters in the series take their names from famous authors, and have abilities, personalities, and demeanors inspired by those writers, their lives, and/or their greatest works.

Much like with Abby from NCIS, I’m sort of cheating by not actually including the main character of the show in this case. However, there’s a good reason for it: the main character of the series is a young man named Atsushi Nakajima, whose superhuman ability allows him to transform – either partially or entirely – into a massive white tiger. While he’s a really great protagonist, he’s actually not truly a great DETECTIVE: the way the show works essentially makes Atsushi to be the resident Watson of the team, so to speak. He’s actually someone who is LEARNING to be a good detective, from the various other characters on the team, who all have abilities and methods that help them solve problems in unique ways, and are all more experienced.

By far my favorite character in the show, and the most “classic” detective in the Agency, is Ranpo Edogawa. Now…I’m going to be honest and say that I know NOTHING about the author this character is named after. With most of the characters who are named after Japanese writers, I can’t tell you a THING about their inspirations, and I’m frankly not in the mood to do the necessary research to see how they reflect those writers and their works. Thankfully, in Ranpo’s case, I don’t really think I need to. Not only does he stand up perfectly fine on his own in general, but the way he functions seems to be more…universal, in terms of the kind of detective he is and the twists on the formula he presents.

Ranpo is an almost stereotypically Holmesian detective: he’s arrogant, at times childish, a bit mercurial, and absolutely brilliant. His power is referred to as “Super Deduction”: whenever Ranpo puts on a special pair of glasses, his perception and intelligence are supposedly given a big boost, allowing him to solve crimes with almost absurd quickness. In one episode, he literally solves a crime in less than a minute! Because of this incredibly “broken” ability, Ranpo has a big head about himself. He’s found openly and constantly declaring himself to be the best detective in the Agency, pontificating on his abilities, and generally annoying Atsushi as a result.

What’s interesting, however, is that none of the other Agency members get on Ranpo’s case most of the time, and they all genuinely agree that Ranpo is their best sleuth, overall. We eventually find out the surprising reason for this is that…Ranpo doesn’t actually HAVE any superpowers. At all. The glasses are just a placebo: he isn’t superhuman, he’s literally just that smart by his own terms. It’s later revealed that Ranpo is aware of this fact (though exactly how long he’s known is unclear), but he tries to play dumb about it because he doesn’t want to admit it openly to anyone. Edogawa, you see, has a lot of hidden insecurities beneath his Holmesian demeanor: before he met Fuzukawa, the leader of the Agency, he used to think of himself as “wrong,” as someone who was misplaced in the world, so to speak. As a result, he loves the sense of family and kinship he gets as a member of the Agency. He will do anything he feels necessary to protect his friends and fellow detectives, and doesn’t want any of them to look down on him for any reason.

If all of this isn’t cool enough, then here’s one more wrinkle: Ranpo has an enemy-turned-best-friend (and self-proclaimed rival) based on Edgar Allan Poe himself. Anyone who has Poe as their rival immediately gets a LOT of brownie points from me, by default. Honestly, just for that reason ALONE, I kind of feel bad for not placing Ranpo higher. I was sorely tempted to place him in the Top 20. However, since he isn’t the main character, nor even the main detective figure - just one member of a large ensemble of sleuths - I don’t think it’s ENTIRELY fair to put him up further in the ranks. It’s the same main reason I didn’t give the aforementioned Abby higher placement. Still, he’s a lot of fun and earns a great deal of respect from this goofball. The more I see of him, the more I like him.

Tomorrow, the countdown continues with Number 21!

CLUE: “If I’m not back in five minutes…just wait longer.”

[minetteskvareninova]

Apologies if you've already answered another ask like this.

But what are your opinions on Murad and Farya in MCK. I hate how boring they are. The worst thing a fictional couple could do ,for me, is be dull, monotonous and annoying. And I feel that way about them. But I would love to know what you think about them as a couple?

I haven't seen the whole of season 2, like I got to about the part where they get married, but let me tell you... They managed to make quite an impression on me. Well, not Farya in and of herself, she's boring as sin, because everything interesting about her gets sacrificed on the alter of her romancing Murat. Which is double the problem it normally would be, because Murat is, and I do not say this lightly, the most trash of the very many very trash men in MC/MCK. I hate him more than Süleyman. More than Ibrahim. More than fucking LÜTFI PASHA. It's unbelievable how thoroughly unable Murat is of not acting like a complete asshole, even towards Farya. ´He belittles her, refuses to hear her out when she sends him a threatening message "for no apparent reason" (read: in such an out-of-character move that you would have to be a complete idiot to not at least ask her, even if you aren't necessarily going to believe her explanation), then steals her birthright, and when she's finally fed up with him and wants to go home... Well, guess what, girlie, you're shit out of luck, Murat doesn't want you to, so you're not gonna. Like, he just straight up kidnaps her??? And because the screenwriter says so, Farya still loves him after everything and none of it is a dealbreaker for her, so she ends up being written as an idiot with no self-respect.

Unlike many people, I don't hate the relationship in concept - warrior sultan falling in love with a warrior princess sounds kinda dope (setting aside the amazing alternate history concept "what if Gabor Bethlen had a daughter, who was supported as a candidate to the throne of Transsylvania by the freaking Ottomans"). Even Farya's eventual lameness wouldn't be such a problem if it wasn't for fucking Murat.

In short, I would summarize this relationship thusly: it's as if someone saw Süleyman's whole thing with Isabella Fortuna and decided it doesn't suck enough, so they added just enough Mustafa and Mihrunissa for their milquetoast flavor to completely ruin the masochistically enjoyable spice of that clusterfuck, but not enough to dull the pain it causes the consumer in the slightest. If that makes sense.

[scribbledquillz]

As promised, a little life update on me for - well mostly me, but also anyone who'd like to know where in the hell I've been.

Around when I was last here winter of 2021, the hip pain I'd had since I was pregnant with my little one - which until then had mostly just been annoying - started to become more of a problem. It became far more prominent and persistent, as well as moving up into my pelvis and lower back. Spasms, achiness, stabbing pains, lots of fun. It made basic necessities difficult, and continuing exercises other than using the treadmill (which a friend of mine graciously gave to me for free, bless her) impossible.

Fast forward through physical therapy, x rays, mris, steroid injections and a last ditch effort with acupuncture and I'm finally in a place health wise that is, while not ideal at least generally manageable. There's something going on in my SI joint compounded with 30+ years of random factors that probably made it worse that causes just. Boatloads of inflammation. Massage, acupuncture and walking keep it in check, but sadly I don't know when or if I'll be able to get back into weight lifting the way I used to. But hey I can function and I can grocery shop without spending the rest of the day in agony on the couch, so I'll gladly take it!

In that same time in a more positive lane, I did a lot of work on myself and my mental health. I took the time to try new hobbies, dabbled in a lot of creative outlets I never thought to try, and started keeping houseplants. Most of which - save a few casualties to my learning process and one poor rubber tree plant that just can't seem to catch a break - are doing great and making my house feel so much more cozy!

I also got the kick in the ass from a friend (the same one who gave me the treadmill, girl is amazing) to start an original project that I'm really excited about. I'm writing a graphic novel style comic. 😁

It's a long, LONG way from ready to share. But my prologue script is done, and I've connected with a comic artist who I've been working with to illustrate the pages. Once those are done and I've got enough of the main script drafted up, I'll be looking into getting the prologue posted / hosted, as well as a Patreon running to help finance the development of the main story. I don't want to give anything away about the plot just yet, but I will say I want to get this right. Hence the possibility of a Patreon to help fund hiring on several sensitivity readers as well as hopefully bumping up the hours I can afford to pay my illustrator to work.

So yeah - that story is my main priority and focus right now. I want to see this done and completed, because I genuinely think people will like the story I have floating around in my head and the idea of finally being able to turn writing - something I've been passionate about for as long as I remember - into more than a hobby would be AMAZING.

But that being said, I will always have love for Revka and Zevran. Their ship is what pushed me back into writing after a years long dry spell, and I want to give them their due. Not to mention I miss the idiots. ♥️

So that's it! I'll be poking away at their fics as I have time, but want to make it clear their stories will have to stay as something I do as I have spare time and energy. I most likely won't be able to do a lot of meme style writing or prompts - at least for the time being. But I'm excited and happy to be here to gush about my favorite fictional husband and share my love for whatever random fancies pop into my life with you all, and to continue seeing your lovely digital faces on my dash.

I can't wait to share my writing with you all again, and to eventually let you be some of the first folks who can check out my comic!

[asoulofatlantis]

I think one of the reasons why the way she confessed to Joshua the Sky 3th was because here you see that she is actually not a backstabbing bitch who does things behind Estelles back. She is a good and honest friend, who wants only the best for the people she cares about and she shares her feelings for Joshua with Estelle so there would be no secrets or problems between them as friends. Yes, in the 3th (that game sucked anyway!) she goes behind Estelles back when she confessed to Joshua and even asked mean stuff like if he would like her back if there was no Estelle. Thats not what good friends do and it certainly isn't something I expected from the same character that admitted her feelings for Joshua to Estelle.

T-Thats a fucking lie! I take back what I said before. She was a backstabbing bitch from the start. Seriously tho. I get that she doesn't want to worry Estelle more than she already is by giving her the chance to think that Kloe might be better for Joshua or some bullshit like that, but... she could have worded it differently. She could have said "my feelings for him might not be entirely gone yet, but I have long given up on him, so do not worry and know that I will support you!" that would not have been a lie and I am sure still had an effect on Estelle regarding here worry about not being the right one for Joshua.

Well... she is backpaddling already. I mean I guess it IS somewhat hard for her, loving Estelle as a friend but having feelings for Joshua as well, even tho she knows that Estelle very much loves Joshua and he loves her back. Look! I do not deny that! I understand it was hard for her and I do also understand the reason why it was important for her to confess. I do not mind the confession at all. I do mind the way she did it.

URG! If I would not have been forced to be eternally grateful to Beublanc I would certainly still hate this guy and his stupid riddles.

I think if you start out with the Sky-Saga or at least play it before CS4, you would never in your wildest dreams think this guy would be your ally at some point. But then again, at this point in the game, the idea of an Enforcer helping you in any way shape or form seemed utterly ridiculous. In Sky, Ourobiris was a villain. A huge ass threat and a real danger. After seeing that they hired GILBERT they already lost some mayor respect from most people tho. Not to mention that at the time of Riveri, we had 3 former Enforcers on our side. We had Duvalie supporting us despite still being part of Ouroboros on the long run. And both Vita and Beublanc have been helping us out. Heck, we had a friendly swimming contest with Shirley. And Lucrecia in Kuro is helping us out a lot too. If it weren't for people like the faceless or the Oathbreaker, no one would take Ouroboros serious at all anymore ^^'

Its not a complaint tho. I like it this way. I love it that Ouroboros became much more grey over the years. Still somewhat dangerous and partly our enemy, but not as terrifying anymore, as they were here.

I love Sieg. He is one of my favorites among our animal-companions in the Trails Saga but... how the hell did he get into a two floors deep underground dungeon. There is no freaking window here.

Could not have said it better Olivert ♥

Any more of this "fiction" and my lovely idiot and you spoiler your identity XD

I am not sure if Kevin is strong enough to stand against Loewe and Beublanc on his own. Maybe he would barely make it out alive IF he runs eventually. Otherwise... it took like 3 of us - and we were overleveld and still in trouble, mind you - when we beat Loewe in my last Sky FC run. Kevin has his Stigma of course and some other Grahlsritter-Tricks up his sleeve... but with Beublanc supporting Loewe it might still not be enough for Kevin to survive on his own.

I am very much aware that I am risking my C-Rank here, but I might cut it a bit shorter on side- and hidden-missions this time.

Now that this is done, it is time to take a break. I am so freaking hungry.

[dreamsandroots]

Three-Eyed Truths: Creative Nonfiction as Mixology of Meaning

“Because it is idiotic. Writing when there’s nothing to say.” – Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

I’m living with the ghosts of unsubstantiated doubt. Myriad voices, student debts unpaid, hollow words from the mouths of the talking heads on TV.

Recently I completed a unit for my degree called ‘Creative Nonfiction.' In class we spent a lot of time thinking about and discussing the idea of truth—how it operates, how we approach it both individually and socially, how it’s represented and disseminated. What stood out most to me—and what made it to date one of my favourite courses during the degree—was the extreme diversity with which one can approach something like ‘creative nonfiction.’ Built upon the foundations of a hybrid form of journalism and literary fiction à la Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood, the term has also come to represent a range of contemporaneous pioneers of artful ‘fact writing’ such as John McPhee, Gay Talese and Tom Wolfe in what would eventually be loosely thought of as the ‘new journalism’ movement. Later, critics and writers would grapple with several terms which attempted to convey a more appropriate grasp of its variable core: ‘journalit,’ ‘new’ or ‘high’ journalism, ‘faction,’ to name a few. The practice seemed to be open to a diverse range of styles, including, in the words of Barbara Lounsberry, such texts as "artful memoirs, autobiographies, biographies, histories, travelogues, essays, works of journalism, forms of nature and science writing, and ingenious combinations of these forms." According to Wolfe, what results is

a form that is not merely like a novel. It consumes devices that happen to have originated with the novel and mixes them with every other device known to prose. And all the while, quite beyond matters of technique, it enjoys an advantage so obvious, so built-in, one almost forgets what power it has: the simple fact that the reader knows all this actually happened.

Scene is what underlies "the sophisticated strategies of prose" in Wolfe’s rendition of the ‘new journalism,’ and it seemingly still underlies the impetus of creative nonfiction, or what Lounsberry calls ‘literary’ or ‘artistic’ nonfiction in its current manifestations. We might however wonder about Wolfe’s assertion that an audience places an implicit epistemic trust in these narrative accounts, in knowing that it "all actually happened" despite this being the obvious appeal behind its composition and consumption.

As the decades passed, the once-authentic energy surrounding ground-level narration has become blurred by an unstoppable procession of small, yet increasingly more apparent dissonances: tiny ambiguities, according to Phillip K. Tompkins in Capote’s reporting of facts and quotations regarding one of his portrayed killers, Perry Smith; the seduction and betrayal of journalists, to paraphrase Janet Malcolm, as they circle their subjects and reconfigure their essence into an aesthetic frame; Janet Cooke’s Pulitzer Prize-winning story about an 8 year old heroin addict titled ‘Jimmy’s World’ which was revealed to be entirely fabrication; the proliferation of market-editorial online (have a quick look at most fashion, food or entertainment blogs); or the turbulent permutations of visual authenticity through the rendering of the photograph, film, documentary, news cast and ‘reality television’ show. Today, a program like Netflix’s Making a Murderer exemplifies this problematic relationship between the producer of a representation, its subject and an audience—to speak about certain issues becomes dangerous and potentially harmful, no matter how carefully researched, and filmed over however long a period of time.

And yet, the problem isn’t resolved by simply saying that such a program shouldn’t be made: if that’s the case, then what are we permitted to speak about? And who would (or could) decide such a thing?

Truth is, perhaps, the major issue, and trust in an author, a voice, a director, or any utterance, image or narrative representing a truth-relation—whether intended as casually playful or appealing to extended thought—is in a state of extreme deficit. In her book No Logo, Naomi Klein outlines the intensive market drive to co-opt culture within the confines of branded ideology. In recognition of her long-fermenting existential angst in the absence of an authentic cultural identity Klein laments "[w]hat haunts me is not exactly the absence of literal space so much as a deep craving for metaphorical space: release, escape, some kind of open-ended freedom." We might well recognise here the dark inversion of the self-assured words of Edward Bernays, whose infamously titled Propaganda begins:

The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in democratic society. Those who manipulate this unseen mechanism of society constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country.

In Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World it was the malcontent-turned-exile Helmholtz Watson—dubbed with trepidation by his superiors "a little too able"—who asks "how can one be violent about the sort of things one’s expected to write about? Words can be like X-rays, if you use them properly-they’ll go through anything. You read and you’re pierced." Much like the dystopian warnings resonating throughout Huxley’s stories and essays, it seems maybe Bernays’ ‘vision’ (and dare we say his misappropriation of the medical intentions behind psychoanalysis?) has over time become realised, ingrained, internalised, and in its final form proliferated so far out of control that no conceivable force exists within either the human appetite, nor our intellectual apparatus, to entirely contain or satiate it.

We have also to wonder about the widespread popularity of such cultural minutiae as the TED talk, the YouTube vlogger, or the standup comic and the many slight variations between these forms. We’ve all felt the intractable pull of marketised double-speak. For the most part, Coca Cola is a brown, (overly) sugary liquid substance, but the conversation surrounding Coke changes our perception of it. Coke is powerful, prestigious, trusted. It certainly doesn’t leap out as the kind of substance that, according to Klein, would cause its producers to co-opt classrooms and university lectures in a demand for "the amount it paid for … vending rights" at The University of British Columbia "to be kept secret for reasons of corporate competitiveness." When I first read Bernays I was troubled, to say the least. I found his unrepentant call for manipulation unforgivable, and every adman and CEO and marketing guru-turned-politician seemed merely a further aberration of that initial spark to control through obfuscation.

I’m still troubled, at least to an extent—but I’ve come to realise this unease is only half of a more detailed picture. Huxley’s dystopian novel was brilliant, not because it merely showed the seductions of manipulation through propaganda, but also because it challenged our ideals regarding a utopian state: at what cost do we uphold the value of a contented and stable population? Where do we draw the line between a stable sense of self and a disproportionate relationship to reality? At what point can we recognise our individual social agency as one which believes things only "because one has been conditioned to believe them"?

The full picture necessarily recognises that we have allowed—and continue to allow—this void of meaning and the increasingly aggressive branding of thought. While it’s one thing to repudiate the kinds of notions that Bernays’ propagation has spawned—for a good example check out his ‘Torches of Freedom’ campaign—it’s another thing to recognise how we co-opt these manipulations, and through this recognition learn to subvert the harmful aspects of a spectacle-driven media setting and its resultant mindset. This tension leads to further questions about whether marketing in and of itself is inherently negative—which of course, it isn’t, at least in no clear way more-so than general communication, rhetoric as a device, or even any representations whose prime function is the play of semiotics. What’s harmful is the underhanded impetus to control the entire conversation, which over time has lead to the complete annexing of the word in its basest form and a compulsion to define self (and by implication social relation) through buying power. But Bernays didn’t invent the game, as much as he may have changed the magnitude with which it’s played. In its very first episode, Mad Men’s mythical conman Don Draper reminds us that "[p]eople were buying cigarettes before Freud was born."

Suffice it to say, my appetite was drawn towards this nexus point of epistemic intrigue evident in the composition of creative nonfiction, and the resultant ambiguities which lead to its demarcations between fact, art and propaganda. During my undergrad majoring in philosophy and english I became focussed on ideas surrounding semantics, semiotics, epistemology and ideology, allowing me to gain some understanding of German Idealism, Psychoanalysis and the interesting mutations throughout continental philosophy that these movements inspired. It also brought me towards a brief investigation of literary criticism with a focus on a few of the more recent movements which sprang out of the 1960s through the 90s. I enjoyed these studies immensely and recognise that one could spend an entire lifetime on any of these particular points of investigation and still never be left in want of wonder. I suppose that’s part of the appeal of timeless—and often unanswerable—questions: they tend to provide for an infinite variation of interpretation and mutation of thought.

Despite this enthusiasm for my undergraduate studies, I couldn’t help but feel that something else was lacking from these investigations. In his Republic Plato talked about the tripartite soul, or psuchê of man, roughly dividing these up into the body, the mind and the spirit as is reflected in his idealised state. Plato may have had his own tyrannical undercurrents evident in the ‘philosopher kings’ he placed as the rulers of his utopia, but it seems his conception of the triangulation of the human experience struck a resonant cultural nerve, an image that has carried Pythagoras’ numerical esotericism as far as the Christian mythos and through to other pioneers of thought including (but not limited to) Baruch de Spinoza, Georg Wilhelm Hegel, Sigmund Freud, Charles Sanders Peirce, and so the list goes on.

I grew up immersed in a family environment that placed exploration—and by implication, a sense of open-mindedness—before anything else. Although schooled and socialised within a Christian setting, my home life, and my teachers, parents, brothers and sisters encouraged a relationship with any form of knowledge, be it through various forms of art, timeless texts, pop culture on television, or the spiritual traditions found throughout the world. This translated into a love of language and an enthusiastic tendency to explore mindsets which directly challenged my own. I took a liking to english in high school, and to a lesser extent art and history classes. I went back and forth between english, psychology and philosophy in my undergraduate, finally to arrive in my aforementioned degree, thoroughly enthused yet without any discernible drive towards a particular career choice.

If it was my studies in philosophy and literary criticism that satiated my intellectual drive, and if my bodily appetite has been thrust towards the changing forms of creative nonfiction, there still remained a question of the third element, the synthetic aspect of Hegel’s formulation, the intuitive approach of Spinoza and the egoistic genesis of Freud. That void of transitory meaning, I feel, can only be approached by focussing on aspects of life which might otherwise be considered too far removed from the realm of serious investigation or consideration, and which resides around my subjective essence—that which balances my sense of self with the wisdom of logos preached by the philosophical canon. Sometimes it’s only by going to the extreme fringes of society and social ideation that we can gain a more adequate picture of the process as a whole.

In this sense, I wonder where is the place for colour in life? Where is the place for mythos? Where’s Rumi and his "fattened bird as food and serpent and snake" and his language which often defied its own meaning, which danced between descriptors and resisted the reductive scalpel of the formalists and deconstructionists alike? What place for Crowley and his mnemonic susurration? What about the poetry of Blake, or Swedenborg’s strange mysticism? Where do Pokémon or the fervid spirits of David Lynch’s world fit into the grand history of ideas? What of the bizarre explorers of science whose names can’t be mentioned? The Tim Learys and Robert Anton Wilsons? What of Carlos Castaneda and his thrust from acceptable anthropology into the truly unknown? I’m interested in the way mindless exposition can be important. The way speaking in tongues might be closer to the language of music. The way you can never write the fire of the mind, only imitate it. Words that simultaneously inspire and seek to put the mind to rest. If we think they’re not important, then it seems we might still not have fully grasped the impact of a culture co-opted towards capital as its master signifier.

This brings us, in a roundabout way, back to that matter of unsubstantiated doubt. Huxley’s savage (paraphrasing his amalgamate Shakespeare) defined a ‘philosopher’ as a "man who dreams of fewer things than there are in heaven and earth."

There’s a sense of reluctance in my attempt to write about my world without recourse to those implicit norms of my (extended) social setting, and in spite of what might be considered ‘proper’ creative nonfiction, whatever that means. The more serious academic might scorn my (sometimes seemingly disproportionate) appropriation of such a diverse range of thinkers and writers and cultural noumena, the more artistically inclined wordsmiths may equally dismiss my writing as lacking in flow and form and a more figurative reading.

In conversation with John the Savage, Huxley’s controller said of God "he manifests himself as an absence; as though he weren’t there at all." While I may not ever fully grasp what ‘truth’ is, what it means to myself and how it relates to others, all I can do is commit myself, with a sense of devotion towards discovering and rediscovering its approximation through my ongoing work. In this sense, no critic is my enemy except insofar as they may wish to impede the act of learning in itself.

To address the emotional spectre of a ghost with a conscious affirmation is not to dispel it entirely, so much as it is to dissipate its haunting presence.

[businesstiramisu]

EXTREMELY HIGHLY RECOMMEND BOTH OF THESE BTW. ESPECIALLY LAVENDER JACK!!

Blindsprings (which has been hiatus for years but *might* be coming back soon, fingers crossed) is a pretty standard (for webcomics) fantasy adventure plot, but with gorgeous art, a great sense of humor, and characters that I love to root for. The story on the outset resembles Anastasia, with a young princess who is the only survivor of a royal massacre re-integrating into society. But it's got this fascinating tension between the old world in the new, both in terms of technology and society, and in the literal magic and spirits of the land: the spirits saved the princess and now want her to act as their champion to restore their old power, but the princess is making her own connections and learning that her goals don't necessarily align with theirs.

Lavender Jack THOUGH MIGHT BE THE BEST WEBCOMIC I'VE EVER READ. It's a pulpy-adventure fun, with a gentleman thief who exposes the crimes of the rich with flair in a steampunk-ish (fictional) European city-state. And it's got action and quips and dramatic twists! But it also *examines* that premise, with nuance and maturity that I almost never see online. It's honestly incredible how it balances its pulpy roots and feeling -- the heroes are definitely the heroes, the villains are dastardly and fun to root against -- with the view that, well, the heroes aren't automatically right about everything, and the systemic problems of the setting aren't going to be solved by one vigilante, no matter how many flashy heists he pulls off. I also have SO MUCH PRAISE FOR THE WOMEN CHARACTERS. Ducky as the mastermind and melancholic balance to Lavender Jack's public flair. Honoria Crabbe, who starts as the useful idiot cop, but her determination to get to the bottom of things and increasing (slowly but surely!) willingness to re-consider her assumptions seem to be leading her to a much more interesting role. AND THERESA FERRIER AND HER WIFE MARGEURITE!!!!! Not only are they cool as fuck, their story has so much depth and tragedy and (eventually!) hope, I just love this pair so so much.

ICONIC COUPLE

I'm not gonna put in the screenshots b/c it would make this post Way Too Long but the comic makes INCREDIBLE use of its verticle scroll format, as well. See some discussion here.

Obscure Webcomic - Round 1-H

Blindsprings - Hiatus

A princess, the only survivor of a toppled monarchy who was hidden by forest spirits for more than a century, returns to a changed world to honor a deal with those same spirits.

Utterly georgeous art with a well-defined world and lore. An interesting mystery to! It's been on haitus for a while, but it's set to come back this year so it's the perfect time to get into it!

Lavender Jack - Finished

The dawn of the 20th century! The City of Gallery is a place of science, diversity, and wealth… but it's also held in the clutches of a corrupt ruling class that’s squeezing it for all it's worth. Enter: LAVENDER JACK — a devilish vigilante whose fighting prowess and advanced technology make him a nightmare for Gallery’s elites. But they’re not about to loosen their grip on the city without a fight. They’ve got some devils of their own, you see...

[offbranddrpepsi]

Somedays you just wanna get comforted by fictional characters over your issues... Today is one of those days for me so can I request Chamber, Killjoy, Cypher, Fade, Omen, and Skye comforting their chubby S/O headcanons? Like normally their S/O can handle or ignore comments about their body, but one more rude "You look pregnant" breaks them. Thank you ~BC

Who ever is being a dick to you can meet my hands, people really need to mind they damn business and shut the fuck up.

Chamber is the king of body positivity, he's a fan of all body types and will worship you REGARDLESS of what you look like. If the event happened in front of him he would go on the defensive, immediately confronting the commenter with such questions as: "What makes you think you can make a comment at that towards someone? Did your mother not raise you correctly? Have you never seen another human before?" and would basically trap them and force them to apologize to you, insulting them for being rude before sending them on their way. Would take you home right away and absolutely shower you in affection, pampering you thoroughly. If you wanted anything he would go out and get it or have it delivered. The entire rest of the day will just be him reinforcing you are absolutely perfect and that its okay to cry, not everyone can be strong all the time and you certainly shouldn't have to be subject to those types of comments all the time. Would listen to you vent or ramble as much as you desire, peppering any problem spots with kisses as he compliments you. Chamber is the partner that goes rabid the moment his love is insulted and sometimes nearly breaks his composed image over it.

Killjoy is more passive and wont confront someone but would openly and VERY loudly say, "That was so rude, what kind of idiot says something like that? They must have issues with their own confidence if they are ragging on others in public." aka doesn't say it to their face but very loudly talks shit about them before excusing you two to somewhere safer. She absolutely loves her partners chub, its one of her favorite things so when others are assholes about it she gets annoyed to say the least. Treats you to video games and even encourages you to wear your favorite clothes around to make you feel better, commenting on how good you look and awing over your chub. Certainly has a roasting session over the person who made the comment to cheer you up, makes the promise to step in more to keep you from having to deal with people being insensitive.

Klara HATES to see you cry so she really wants to do her best to cheer you up despite not being the best with emotions or people. Would really want to try to talk about how you feel so she can have a better understanding but wont push you if its touchy. Would also entirely hit on you more openly and more frequently, your body is loved and perfect and she will make the very clear.

Cypher is a passive aggressive little shit so the moment you came home crying he was asking you a million questions to figure out who did this. Holds you while you cry and vent, jotting down all the information about the event he could to hunt that person down later. Gets you set up with your favorite shows, food, and comfort items while he goes to handle a "business call" aka hunt down this persons social media and ruin their image. Does run a full check to see if this person does this a lot, if they have any other nasty traits or opinions he can pin point, eventually digs up all he can then emails it to their employer as a concerned customer/business partner. Wouldn't tell you about what he did but would return and start going off about how perfect you are and how much he loves your body, might get a bit lewd as he describes all the bits he likes but thats just him being specific.

Cypher is the type of guy that regardless of how you look or what people think you are his entire world. He would do what ever it takes to make sure those who treat you poorly get the karma they deserve while making sure your self image stays as high as he holds you.

While Chamber is the king of body positivity Fade is the queen. How her powers work lets her be very honed in when something is bothering you or when you're self conscious so she's aware the moment someone has upset you. Without a word removes you from the situation to a more isolated location if not directly home, she doesn't want you to have to feel even worse over crying in front of people. Makes sure prowler gives that person hell for a while, if you want to poke at peoples insecurities then you certainly can deal with yours being poked at. Uses alot of logic/reasoning to help calm you down, even revealing some of the persons fears to make you feel better that it wasn't you that was the issue its them. Doesn't stop calling you beautiful/handsome/gorgeous what ever term you most favor it never stops.

Fade really understands how people feel at their core so she's one of the best equipped to squash those bad feelings and replace them with better ones.

Shadow boy is very confused as to why someone would care so much about your weight to make a degrading comment, seeing someone's weight as an insignificant detail when it comes to judging people. Gets rightfully upset once he sees you crying, considers ending the person on the spot but Sage would be disappointed in him so he just teleports you away to somewhere safe. He may be far from the human he used to be but he knows how hurtful those words are, making sure you know that regardless of other peoples words it doesn't change how you are or mean you are any less. Focuses on reinforcing your own personal value as well as stressing that the stranger knows nothing, noting everyone at Valorant thinks you look amazing as you are. Honestly super confused over how you even look pregnant and may ask the stranger what they mean by that, basically making them explain the insult until they cant anymore and embarrasse themselves. Omen, despite being a confused noodle, would do his best to make sure you know your worth is not set in your weight or how people view you. Would also cite how well you usually handle things being a sign that you're stronger than the person making the comment and that crying isn't a bad thing since you usually have to deal with so much.

Skye

Muscle wife is really understanding but would not seek any conflict, removing you from the situation and comforting you as best she can. She knows that some people prefer buff people like herself but she also knows not everyone can be that way and shouldn't be shamed for it. Skye absolutely loves your chub and worships your body much like Killjoy does. She things all bodies are beautiful in their own way so what if you work out a lot or dont, doesn't make a difference to her. Offers to take you on a trip with her just the two of you so she can show you that person was entirely in the wrong to say something like that aka body worship but an entire vacation. Skye certainly is in the same boat with Omen when it comes to not understanding why people feel so entitled to comment on others bodies but likes to disprove them and make you feel valid and worthy. She also does get pretty upset when you cry and would probably make a point to be overly affectionate to you when that persons around, making it clear that you aren't undefended if they want to fuck around and find out again.

[daechwitatamic]

Chapter 9: Really Sure || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: What Was Hidden (Masterpost)

Rating: explicit, minors DNI pls

Genre: college!au, angst, eventual smut, strangers -> friends -> lovers -> idiots -> lovers

Pairings: Taehyung x female reader, MYG x OC

Summary:  This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You’re assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg’s The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there’s a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one’s “true self” versus one’s “shown self”, darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

//

In which Taehyung takes you on an actual date.

Chapter Warnings: language, kissing, groping, explicit sex including: fingering, unprotected sex with bc (this is fiction pls be safe in ur real lives!), penetrative sex, consent king Kim Taehyung

Note: I wanted to take a second to seriously shout out Pauli (@/kookstempo - if I tag her the post stops showing up in searched tags bc tumblr is the worst platform to exist) for her help with this chapter. My brain is full of angst and longing so when I get to these happy scenes, I tend to draw a blank. The entire Christmas festival is due to her - she talked me through every single moment and came up with a lot of the ideas in the first place. If anything you see is sweet, fluffy, or makes you feel warm and fuzzy…. credit her.

Second note…… this was my first time writing smut, ever! It was challenging and honestly a little scary so pls read with forgiving eyes!

Word Count: 5k

I saw the sun and thought I saw what was hidden The Ghost Sonata | Scene III August Strindberg

Chapter 9: Really Sure

Wednesday, December 12th

At tutoring on Wednesday morning, Taehyung works on his The Cherry Orchard paper.

“I think the easiest theme is the one about societal upheaval and accepting change,” you tell him. “You can fill pages with that, no problem.”

Taehyung considers this, tapping his fingers against his lips. “I was thinking about the pattern I see with love,” he tells you.

You give him a look and he smiles your favorite smile, the one when you catch him at something, the one that starts with a flash of uncertainty and then it grows sideways from one corner to the other, like he’s relieved that you find him funny. 

“Seriously,” he insists. “You said to look for patterns. Ravensky’s all hung up on her dude in Paris, Barbara’s waiting for a proposal, Dunyasha is trying to get with what’s-his-face -.”

“Yasha,” you supply. Taehyung snaps his finger and points at you, grateful. 

“Also the guy,” he continues, referring to the character Peter. “He thinks he’s above feelings, and love, but he’s hot for Anya.”

“So what’s the theme?” you press him. “Their stories and situations are all different. What’s the connection, or message?”

He frowns. “That love comes for everyone, like it or not?”

You frown back. “I don’t think I agree with that as a general statement, but if you think you can provide enough textual evidence to support it, be my guest.”

“You’re Peter,” he tells you, giving you an amused look.

“Does that make you Anya?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

He laughs. “You’re right, now it’s weird.”

“Besides,” you say, a little defensively, “I don’t think I’m above feelings. Or love.”

“You just want to pretend you are for a minute, because it feels safer,” he says.

“Alright, that’s enough Chekhov for you today,” you joke, but you’re unsettled. Taehyung sees through you - he has from the beginning - and it’s something you’ve never experienced before, not with anyone.

“That’s wasn’t a shot at you,” he tries to explain. “That was kind of a… ‘universal you’ thing. We all do that.”

You’re grateful he’s letting you off the hook, but now he’s got you thinking about it. “After you’ve been hurt, it’s hard not to.”

“That’s true,” he says graciously. You have a feeling you could change the subject now, but something in you presses on.

“Have you?” you ask cautiously.

“Which part?” he says, setting down his book and looking at you. “Been in love? Been hurt? Tried to pretend it wouldn’t happen again?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He shrugs. “All three.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, meaning it.

“That’s life,” he says. “You get up and you try again.”

“That’s a very healthy outlook,” you observe. “Not everyone has that strength.”

He gives you a smug, knowing look. “That was a very nice compliment.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, yeah, you’re welcome.”

He glances at his phone. “Three minutes left,” he informs you.

“Okay,” you say. “You’re good on the paper? Do you think you can have some of it done before our session tomorrow night?”

He smirks at you. “As long as someone doesn’t distract me too much later.”

You roll your eyes, again. “I’ll stay on campus tonight, then.”

He pouts. “That is not the response I was going for.”

“Sorry,” you tell him. “I have a paper to write, though. I really do need to stay on campus.”

“Fine,” he says, still mostly pouting. “Hey, do you have plans for Saturday night yet?” There’s something in his tone that you can’t name.

You think about it. “No, I don’t think so,” you decide. “Are you guys having a party?”

“I’m not sure what the rest of the guys are doing,” he says, “but I had an idea for you and me.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh, you did, huh?”

He gives you that smile again, the one that grows. “I was thinking I could take you to the Christmas festival in town?”

Your whole body feels suddenly warm. You’ve loved hanging out with Taehyung; you’ve loved the deep talks you’ve had, the easy way you can joke with each other, the fluttering in your chest when he smiles at you. But until now it’s been… unnamed. Casual. Safe.

“Okay,” you say, even though your stomach is in knots. What you don’t want is to hurt his feelings over nothing, over your own silly fears.

“Yeah?” he asks, perking up. “That fancy hot chocolate place will have a food truck there that night. We can just walk around, check out the stalls, talk…”

This makes you smile. “Okay, fancy hot chocolate sounds really good,” you admit.“ Okay then,” he smiles, packing up his laptop, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. “Then it’s a date.”

Saturday, December 15th

You agonize over what to wear, a fact that is not lost on your roommates. You want to look cute as hell but you also don’t want to freeze. 

“I vote thick tights under a skirt or dress,” Bridget offers. 

“That would look cute with the boots,” Kiko agrees. 

You flop backwards on your bed in defeat. “I can’t do this. I’m tagging you in, Bridg. Go be cute and charming in my place.”

“How is this any different from going to hang out at the house?” Bridget asks. “You don’t freak out over that.” 

“It’s very different,” you insist. “There’s all this pressure.”

She purses her lips at you, looking annoyed. “Because he’s telling you he expects it to be absolutely perfect, with choirs of angels singing and wedding bells in the distance?”

You frown. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not.”

She points at you. “Then it’s all internal. You’re putting the pressure on yourself. And that means you have the power to stop it.”

You and Kiko exchange a glance, and Bridget presses on, all worked up.

“It’s a date, it’s one night. Your future doesn’t hang in the fucking balance, so lighten up.”

“She’s scolding me,” you complain to Kiko.

“She’s right though,” Kiko says. “Where was all this knowledge when I was panicking over Yoongi?”

“We didn’t know you were panicking,” Bridget points out flatly.

“I definitely didn’t,” you agree. 

“I thought it was pretty obvious,” she says, voice small. 

You shake your head. “You can’t expect people to know how you’re feeling or what you’re thinking if you don’t tell them,” you say gently.

She goes silent, lips thin.

Bridget is looking at you.

–

When Taehyung picks you up after dinner, he’s got Christmas music playing in the car. 

“Setting the mood, huh?” you ask with a smile.

“I heard you like Christmas,” he says, giving you a sly sideways smile.

That’s something you’ve really learned about Taehyung - that guy pays attention. He may not seem like he’s listening, but he is, and he’s retaining information. When had you mentioned liking the Christmas season? You try to remember. You’d said it once, to Kiko, at the bar a week ago.

After parking, you walk side by side towards the entrance. The whole block is barricaded so cars can’t come up or down, and people walk freely down the street. The street is practically ablaze with strings of lights, and they continue into the adjacent park. At the end of the block, a small stage has been erected, and a trio of people are singing indie covers of Christmas songs. 

Taehyung leads the way to a semi-circle of food trucks and stands at the end of the longest line. 

“I believe gourmet hot chocolate was promised,” he tells you.

“It was,” you say seriously. You try to stand on your tiptoes to see the truck’s menu board. Taehyung pokes your arm to get your attention and hands you his phone, where he’s pulled up the menu himself.

“Oh,” you say, taking it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, looking down at you. You decide on peppermint and pass the phone back to him.

“I’m thinking salted caramel,” he says, eyeing the screen.

“I was thinking about that one,” you tell him. “It sounds amazing.”

The line moves slowly, and you find yourself shivering slightly, since you’re just standing still, not walking.

“Are you cold?” Taehyung asks you, glancing over. It reminds you of the night at the trail, the first time you’d kissed.

“No,” you lie.

He makes a face, clearly onto you. “You’re shivering,” he says flatly. 

“I’ll be fine once we start walking,” you say, feeling defensive.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head good-naturedly and reaches an arm around you, pulling you closer. He is warm. He rubs his hand up and down your upper arm, trying to dispel the goosebumps.

When you reach the front of the line, Taehyung buys your drinks and the two of you head towards the park, where there are giant light displays. People mill around you in both directions - large families with a bunch of kids, other couples like you, even some people who seem to be enjoying the displays in solitude. 

The displays are huge, so tall, depicting so many different things, all so bright and colorful. Lights adorn the trees, wrapped around the trunks and up into the branches. Where the trees reach across the walking path, overhanging the cement, it feels like you’re in a tunnel of red and gold lights. Off the path, strings of lights are twisted and tied to form trains, dinosaurs, beach scenes, and of course, lots of Santa and reindeer. You and Taehyung meander down the concrete path, following the flow of foot-traffic, stopping at each display to admire it.

You stop to admire a display whose lights flicker and move in time with music playing over speakers above you. It’s so bright and beautiful, but you find yourself turning to look at Taehyung; his face shines in the glow of the lights, blues and greens moving across his face just to be replaced with gold and white. All those sly glances and careful faces are gone - his expression is just open, honest, delighted. A tiny smile rests on his lips as he watches and listens. Something swells in your chest - you feel like you could touch the spot it blooms from, right above your diaphragm. It makes you want to be closer to him, part of his infectious joy.

You reach over, your fingers finding the side of his hand. He turns his wrist and takes your hand without looking, fingers lacing with yours. He gives it a tiny squeeze and says, “Look, they have that dragon up there breathing fire!”

And then he’s pulling you along, eager, already grinning.

–

As the path through the park leads you back to the street, Taehyung leads you by the hand to the side of the street lined with vendors and stalls. You walk, still hand in hand, peering in at each booth. You pass a lot of artisanal foodstuffs - organic honey, jams and preserves from the local farms, fancy teas and coffee beans, a handmade fudge stand (this one gets your money). 

There’s also a healthy showing from local artists - one booth is full of landscape paintings, and you spend quite some time standing, looking at each one, marveling over them. There’s plenty of knit and woven goods - hats, mittens, scarves, socks, sweaters. Taehyung eyes a black and white scarf, playing with the material for a minute before letting it drop back to its spot. You stop again two booths down at a little pottery stand. The artist displays vases and bowls, and shelves of handcrafted mugs, each one sporting different colors and designs. “No two alike!” the sign proclaims.

You gravitate towards a few mugs that are clearly not identical, but must have been painted on the same day - they sport the same deep blues and an almost silvery grey, swirled like rainy puddles on a sidewalk. You pick up two, turning them in tandem, looking at each angle. Instead of protruding handles, they have smooth divots where your fingers should fit as you hold them.

“Those are nice,” Taehyung says, looking over your shoulder. 

“All my good mugs are still at my parents’ house,” you tell him.

“Let’s get two,” he suggests, reaching over your shoulder to pick up another blue mug, turning it over in his hand. “You pick one and I’ll pick one.”

“So we match?” you tease, already starting to look for one that stands out to you.

“You can think of me every time you use it.” He gives you a teasing wink so you’ll know he’s mostly kidding. 

“It is pretty,” you say, putting back the one you’d been eyeing and reaching for another. “I like the blue. And I like the finger-grooves instead of a handle.”

“Come on,” Taehyung says decisively. “Pick one, let’s get them.”

The potter bags them separately for you so you don’t get yours mixed up with Taehyung’s, and you continue down the road. You’re heading in the direction of the band, the music growing louder as you approach. The indie trio seems to be taking a break, and jazzy instrumentals come through the speakers instead. Some older couples dance together in the space in front of the now-empty stage, hands locked.

“Come dance with me?” Taehyung asks quietly, setting down his little bag with the mug inside under a nearby bench, reaching for yours too.

“Doesn’t really look like a young people scene,” you observe, but you hand him your bag when he reaches for it.

“Do you care that much?” he asks, and there’s something challenging in the way he says it. 

“I guess not,” you allow, and he grins, starting to swivel his hips to the trumpets, reaching a hand for you to join him. You can’t help but laugh - he’s so freaking silly, and he really gives no shits, and you kind of love that about him.

He spins you slowly, one hand on your waist, and you’re somehow surprised that he’s a good dancer. He leads you well, and you let yourself be in this moment as best you can: the taste of peppermint in your mouth, the lights around you glowing golden, your heart beating in time with the harmonies of the brass instruments, Taehyung’s body solid and warm against your as he holds you tight.

–

When the indie band returns, the jazz covers fading down to nothing, Taehyung leads you towards the little creek that winds through the park. This area isn’t technically part of the festival, and people aren’t really walking here. The Christmas lights and decorations don’t extend this far into the park either, but the path is lit by lanterns on posts along the side of the path. Taehyung leads you onto a small bridge and leans his elbows on the railing.

“I like this spot,” he tells you. “When I was starting to walk a little after my accident, I’d come here. It’s not too far from the parking lot and it felt… peaceful, I guess.”

You look at him, listening. The creek runs below you, the sound soothing.

He turns to face you, and you close the gap willingly, leaning up to meet his lips, knowing they’re coming.

There’s some ferocity to his kiss tonight; you don’t know if he’s just tired of holding back, if he’s keyed up from dancing together, or what, but something is different. He tangles a hand in your hair and tightens his fingers, his other hand pulling you flush against him by the small of your back. Your mouth opens on a tiny noise of satisfaction, and his tongue strokes yours immediately. 

He tastes like caramel, he smells like a man, and your head spins as he presses your body against the bridge railing, fingers still lodged in your hair. You press yourself against him, wanting to feel as much of his body against yours as you can, winter coats be damned. 

You want to be as close as possible, you want to feel every part of him, you want to - even if only for right this second - let him in in every way. You can’t put it into words, even in your head, so you try to put as much of it into your kiss as you can; you grip his jacket tight between your fingers and pull him against you, relish the feeling of him hardening against you, drown a little in the contented grunts he makes when you move your mouth down his jaw and towards his neck. 

He releases your hair and grabs your ass with both hands, helping to increase the friction you’re both creating, and you release the skin of his neck long enough to let out a sigh, resting your forehead on his shoulder, sucking in air. He half-grunts, half-growls and nudges at your forehead, trying to get you to lift your chin so he can kiss you more.

“Taehyung,” you breathe, looking up to meet his eyes.

“What is it, baby?” he murmurs, hands still tight on the meat of your ass. “What do you need?”

You. 

Somehow, this is true.

“Take me home?” you ask, hands still holding him in place by his jacket. “Not campus,” you clarify quickly, when his eyes widen a little.

He wraps his arms all the way around you and pulls you in tight, pressing his lips to your forehead quickly before letting you go.

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” he whispers. You let go of his jacket and reach for his hand. This time, you lead him through the park, aiming for the parking lot.

As you pass back through the festival on your way to the car, you notice the long line of families waiting to take pictures with Santa. 

“I didn’t get to sit on Santa’s lap,” you pretend to pout.

“I’ll give you a lap to sit on,” he quips, and you laugh out loud, shocked at his audacity.

He laughs too, actually covering his mouth with his spare hand. “Sorry,” he says through his giggles. “That one should have stayed in my head.”

In the car, Taehyung drives with one hand on your thigh, his thumb tracing circles on the thick fabric of your tights. You don’t talk much, but you keep your eyes on him, steady, as his face comes in and out of view as you pass under streetlights and then continue into darkness again. Every now and then he glances back at you, and when he meets your eyes he gives you a tiny smile, almost like he thinks it's funny that you’re still looking.

At the house, the living room is empty, and after you hang your coats on hooks Taehyung leads the way upstairs, shutting and locking his door as usual.

You sit on his desk chair and unzip your tall boots, placing them carefully under his desk, out of the way so no one trips on them in the dark later. When you’re done, you look back up at him. He’s standing with his arms crossed, watching you carefully. He’s kicked off his own shoes; unlike yours, they lay in the middle of the room, discarded.

You rise, walking over to him gingerly, and he takes your face between his hands, kissing you sweetly. Too sweetly. You want to kiss like you did on the bridge. You take over, kissing him more aggressively, humming into his mouth when he takes your ass in his hands again. Right where you left off, you think.

He lowers his hands as you kiss him, skimming the sensitive underside of your ass, hands slipping beneath your dress. His fingers caress the backs of your thighs, just once, and then he’s moving them back up, searching for the hem of your tights. When he finds it, he crumples the material in a fist, pulling you against him again, and then gently slides his thumbs under the waistband. He peels your tights down your body tantalizingly slowly, his eyes locked on yours the whole time, giving you plenty of time to object if you want to.

You don’t.

You step out of your tights as they hit the floor, and Taehyung gathers up your skirt in one hand, caressing your bared ass with the other, pulling you in to kiss you again, breathing in so harshly as he does that it’s almost like he’s breathing you in. You silently thank Bridget for reminding you to wear something lacy tonight.

You reach up and start unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, tugging it off of his shoulders and running your hands up his toned arms and back down his chest. He exhales sharply, fingers tightening on your butt as you trace lines up and down his stomach, wanting to touch everything.

He reaches behind you to find the zipper on your dress, struggling a little with the hook and eye at the top. You feel the cold air hit your back as he drags the zipper down, and then he mimics your earlier motion, tugging the shoulders off of your arms.

He takes a second to look at you as your dress falls to your ankles and then he’s kissing you again, hands roaming as if he can’t decide what to touch first, what to touch longer, as if his hands miss one part of you the second they stray to visit somewhere else. 

He unhooks your bra and you toss it sideways, then your hands go for his belt buckle. He kicks his head back and huffs out a breath, trying to maintain control as your hands deftly undo his belt and loosen it. 

“God,” he groans, fingers twitching, as if not touching you for these two minutes is taking all of his self-control. You love him like this - like he’s barely keeping it together, like he’s seconds aware from losing it and tearing you apart. 

Part of you hopes he does.

You unzip his pants carefully, then glance up at his face before pulling them over his hips. He watches you evenly, but his breathing is anything but even. You take in the sight of him as his slacks fall away and he uses his toes to push off the socks from each foot, leaving him only in boxer briefs. They hug him tightly, showing the curve of his fantastic ass, the swell of his trapped cock.

You let out a shaky breath as Taehyung pulls you close again, and then he pushes you backwards towards his bed. You land on your back and scoot up as he crawls over top of you, kissing you again. You clutch at his upper arms as he runs a hand from your hip up to your chest and back down again. Then his fingers brush the lace edge of your underwear, and you know he’s asking for permission. 

“Go ahead,” you breathe, and he slides his fingers under the material, seeking what he wants. 

“Oh, my god,” he groans, pressing his warm length against your leg desperately, as he circles his fingers in your wetness, not even having to press inside to find it. His hair swings a little with each movement he makes. “You ready for me, baby?”

You let out a breath like a laugh. “Apparently,” you tell him, smiling as you kiss him again. Then, he pushes in two fingers at once, sinking them into your heat until they can’t go any further. You gasp at the intrusion, but it turns into something guttural quickly because the feeling is divine. God, his fingers are long.

“Mm, Taehyung,” you murmur, shifting to give him more room as he begins to pump his fingers out and in again, thumb reaching for your clit. You take a shuddering breath, closing your eyes, enjoying the feeling, but it’s only a minute later that you’re reaching for him, trying to tug his briefs off.

He lifts up so you can slide them down his hips, kicking them off the end of the bed. He hisses and closes his eyes when you wrap a hand around him, tugging a few times, eyeing his girth. 

“Do I need -?” he manages to ask, voice raw, eyes flickering to his nightstand.

A condom. “I have an IUD,” you tell him. “And I know I’m clean. You?”

“Definitely clean, I promise,” he tells you, reaching down to tug at your panties, the final article of clothing. Once he tosses them towards the end of the bed and comes to rest fully over top of you, he pauses to kiss you again, sweet and deep. His member slides along your slit and he can’t help but move a little, slicking himself up along one side. You groan, half tempted to shift your hips and just take him, no warning.

“Y/N,” he whispers, pausing his movement, looking at you carefully. “You’re sure, right?”

You want to kiss him again, just for asking. God, what did you do to deserve how sweet he is to you? 

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “I’m really sure. I want you.”

He closes his eyes at these words, resting his forehead against yours for a second, and then he’s reaching down to position himself at your entrance, pushing forward slowly. He keeps his eyes on your face and you breathe slowly as you adjust to him. He pauses when he bottoms out, giving you a second.

You give your hips a few experimental circles, feeling the stretch. “Okay,” you whisper. “Move? Please?”

He kisses you quickly and acquiesces, starting a steady, quick pace. You both groan, drowning each other out, as he moves. He touches you as he keeps this pace, tweaking a nipple, kneading your ass, smoothing down your hair. 

“God, you feel good,” he murmurs. 

“You, too,” you assure him. He slows his pace, pulling out and entering with excruciating slowness; you can feel every single ridge positively drag along your walls. You try to take it, try to let him toy with you. But it’s so fucking much, the sensations building to the point of being overwhelming, you can’t possibly hold him tight enough, you can’t bear it.

“Go faster, please,” you beg, voice broken almost to the point of a sob. 

“Jesus,” he gasps, and then does as you ask, beginning to snap his hips at a bruising speed. You can feel your pleasure building, your thighs shaking and then calming, then shaking again. Taehyung adjusts his angle, using both hands to lift your hips a little higher, pulling you against him with each thrust, and you keen out his name.

“Tae, there -!”

He smiles at you wickedly, brows furrowed with effort and concentration. He locks in the angle and ups his pace, eyes roving your body.

“Ah - Taehyung - I’m -,” you gasp, screwing your eyes shut.

“Close?” he asks, voice so low it makes your toes curl. 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Tae…”

“Yes, baby,” he hisses, hips slapping lewdly against your own. You reach down to rub your clit, feeling the mounting pressure snap and crest, white blooming behind your eyes. You come with a whine, and he fucks you through it as you pulse and clench around him, shuddering beneath his hands. 

“So pretty,” he tells you with a whisper as your muscles relax again, stilling his hips long enough to give you a quick kiss on the lips. Then he’s grabbing your ankles and pressing them together, lifting them to rest on his shoulder. He bends you practically in half, leaning his weight on his hands, pounding you into the mattress until your eyes roll back. You can’t even make words at this point, only whines and whimpers as you screw your eyes shut.

“God,” he growls. “Fuck! Y/N, can I -? Inside?”

“Please,” you cry, your heart still racing from your own climax, “yes, do it.”

His thrusts speed up but get sloppier, his earlier precision falling away as his hips jerk and stutter, his breathing ragged in your ear. 

“F-fuck,” he gasps, pushing further into you, seeking more heat, hips slowing until they still. He breathes for just a second, and then rolls sideways, reaching over to grab a towel from the back of his desk chair. He hands it to you to let you clean up, waiting patiently for his turn. Then, he throws it in the general direction of his hamper and rolls to gather you in his arms, still breathing heavily.

“Hi,” you say, giggling a little. He smiles back, and you can feel how fast his heart is racing. 

“Hi,” he says back, trying to steady his breathing. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, snuggling up against his side as he rolls to his back, the oxytocin flowing. “You?”

“Fucking fabulous,” he tells you with a laugh. 

You both lay there quietly for a minute, cooling down. Then, he turns to look at you. 

“Y/N,” he says, “I just want to make sure you know… if we’re doing this… it will be only you, for me. Okay? I’m not… just… it’s only you.”

This is the truth: in your heart, you don’t believe him. Maybe he means it right this second - in fact, you’re sure he does. But this is what you know about love and relationships: things change. Just because someone means it today doesn’t mean they’ll mean it in a week, or a month, or a year.

“I appreciate that,” you say. It is sweet of him to reassure you, especially considering what he knows about your past. You’re glad, too, that he kept it vague - doing this. What was this, talking? Fucking? Dating? Whatever the answer is, you feel better not putting a name to it. “I prefer one at a time, too. It’s just… less complicated that way.”

For you, it’s true. That’s the only thing you’re really sure of. 

Next

*innocent whistles*

Thank you for being here! I appreciate every single like, reply, dm, ask, or reblog!

HUGEST thank you to Pauli for basically writing the entire date and for beta-ing!!!

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - I bet i love you

Gif if not mine, but i swear she looks prettier every time i look at her.

Summary: Prompt based from @ecruzsalaz: The one where Wanda is popular, and Reader is a nerd. The popular kids do a bet that Reader will fall in love with Wanda. Everything will be reveal after their trip. 

Warnings: Light angst, kissing, teasing, underage drinking, lies, Vision being an idiot completely out of canon.

Words:  13.446 k /// Read on AO3

Notes: I don’t even know what happen here. I’m been busy and this took a lot of days to be done, but it’s finally here, hope @ecruzsalaz will be satisfied haha. Good reading everyone and apologies for any typo, it sucks to translate so many words. There are a few pop culture references, i wonder if anyone will catch those.

Marks (if i forgot your name tell me i’m lost):  @mionemymind @abimess

In your last year of high school, you just wish things would be peaceful.

The previous years hadn't exactly been ideal, since you were surrounded by assholes, but you are optimistic.

Your small, select group of friends, consisting of exactly two people, who you could swear were probably the only decent human beings left in West View High School, were currently the only reason you still wanted to go to high school.

Right now, for example, you were sitting in the outer cafeteria, a book of historical fiction to escape reality plus headphones with some old rock music that you weren't really listening to, since you were so focused on the story you were reading. And then someone pulled on your headphones, and you looked up ready to complain, but the mischievous smile of your best friend Bruce Banner was all you could find.

- I've been calling you for five minutes. - He said, sitting down on the stool in front of you. You smiled, apologizing, and put your cell phone on the table. - No problem, you always do that.

You laughed awkwardly, closing the book while Bruce put his backpack on the table.

- Where is Mon? I haven't seen her today. - You tell him, but Bruce shrugs. 

- Maybe her mother changed shifts again. - He comments, and you make a noise with your mouth of agreement. Whenever Maria, your friend Monica's mother, switched shifts at work, she would be late for first periods. It has been like this since primary school.

- You still haven't let me see your schedule. - You told Bruce with a slight frown, and he laughed, going through his pockets. Then he took out his cell phone, fiddled with the screen for a few seconds, and then handed it to you. You read the attached class schedule with a frown. - Bruce! You didn't sign up for half the classes you took last year?

He shrugged, running his hands through his hair.

- Yeah, I think I'll focus more on what I want for college. - He explained a little shyly. - I was getting too anxious about all that stuff. And honestly, you should have done the same.

You made a grumbling sound with your mouth, and started biting your thumbnail as you finished looking at the schedule. You would barely have any classes together. And then you handed the cell phone back to your friend.

- I would do it if I had any idea what I wanted to major in. - You tell him. - It's better to have several interests on the curriculum, so I'll have more course options.

- You can also develop burnot. - He remarked with mild irony, and you laughed, looking away.

The bell for the first class then rang, and the two of you exchanged a look before getting up. Bruce kissed you on the cheek before heading in the opposite direction, and you grumbled lightly as you picked up your book and walked to the chemistry labs.

In the hallway of the main building, a few meters before the entrance to the lab, someone bumped into you. It was one of the boys from the team, who was laughing at something his colleague said. Your notebooks fell to the floor, and the boy looked at you with contempt.

- Watch where you're going weirdo. - He warned and you rolled your eyes.

- You're the one who bumped into me, you brute. - You grumbled angrily. The boy just laughed and walked away.

After picking your books, you stood up. The athletes at your school were jerks, but you didn't blame only them for their arrogance. The rest of the school, including the faculty, treated them as gods, so they behaved as such.

Sighing with impatience, you entered the chemistry labs, wishing that the day wasn't long.

Darcy Lewis had been your chemistry partner for three years. You smiled as you greeted her and sat down next to her. You were not friends, but she was very kind and extremely intelligent. You really thought you were very lucky to have her as your partner, and then, as if the universe would like to laugh at you, Professor Nakia announced that she was switching partners.

The whole class let out a chorus of dissatisfaction, and one student asked aloud.

- Please, Professor Nakia, we have been working with the same people for three years. Why change now?

- Excellent question, Miss Quinn. - Nakia said, smiling. She was at her desk, finishing putting her materials on top. - Three years is more than enough time for you to create tricks to cheat on my exams. 

The room exchanged complicit and guilty looks, and the teacher kept a serious posture.

- The school board found evidence to indicate this. - She explains. - I was very disappointed to learn that there were students cheating on the evaluation method not only in this class, but in several others. You will notice that all teachers with fixed groups will rotate them from now on. This was a decision made by the principal.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed that you would lose your amazing partner and were running the chance of ending up with someone irresponsible or slacker, just because some kids were careless at cheating. The room let out a chorus of understanding, and everyone began to move around as the teacher indicated the new groups. You ended up sitting with a guy named Vision, who you didn't really know, but you knew was quite popular because he was class speaker, and head of the fencing club.

- Hello, dear. - He greeted you as he sat down, putting his coat on the chair. Vision dressed very well; he was part of the group your classmates called "preps”, even if he was usually hanging out with jocks.

You made a noise with your mouth in greeting, but he didn't seem to mind your lack of sociability. 

Fortunately, Vision was a decent chemistry partner. Although he was bossy, and had a habit of interrupting or explaining as if you were stupid, he was intelligent and knew how to do the experiments. You thought that was enough, since you would only have to put up with him in this class.

Feeling a glance at you, you raised your eyes from the notebook, and were slightly startled to notice Vision looking at you with amusement and curiosity, you frowned ready to ask what's wrong, but then he let out a dry laugh.

- I knew I knew you! - he declared. - You're the Presley freak!

Vision laughed lightly nostalgically, and you felt your face flush, turning your attention back to your notebook. He was talking about the Halloween party in freshman year, where you dressed up as Elvis Presley and the track team decided to nickname you "Presley Freak" for the next whole year. The teasing died down after a while, but Vision brought it back as if it were a good memory.

Fortunately he just shook his head with amusement, and didn't mention it again. When class was over, he didn't say goodbye on his way out, but you didn't care.

//-//

The story that all the teachers followed the new norm of switching partners was true. In History, you lost your partner Bucky Barnes to sit with Natasha Romanoff, equally quiet and intelligent. For the most part, you are satisfied with the partners you got. 

But then in fourth period, biology class, you ended up partnering with someone you never imagined.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the most popular girls in school. You didn't really know her. You were classmates during elementary school, and you even became friends with her twin brother in elementary school, Pietro Maximoff, before he became a complete idiot. But other than that, you didn't know much about her. Although you had a strange sympathy for the girl. Unlike the group of girls she hung out with, Wanda never tormented you at school. Or your friends. She was probably fake and sneaky like the others, but she left you alone, so you had nothing against her.

You were pulling your biology book out of your backpack as the teacher announced the new pairs, and you stopped in mid-motion when she said Maximoff and your name.

Wanda sat down beside you the next moment, smiling politely. You shook your head slightly, dropping your backpack on the floor.

Wanda was surprisingly nice. You didn't talk about anything unrelated to the subject, but she was quick enough to catch your ironic glances when Professor Darkholme made an inappropriate comment or a funny remark, and match it with a smile or a look. 

As the class came to an end, Wanda nodded slightly at you, and you smiled back before gathering your materials.

It had been four months since classes had started, and you were already used to your new partners in class. 

Vision was inconvenient in many comments, as if he took pleasure in recalling your most embarrassing moments in high school, but you learned to change the subject quickly whenever this happened. All you had to do was pretend you didn't know about some subject he mastered, only to hear him explain it to you in the most arrogant manner possible for the next few minutes, effectively distracting him.

Natasha Romanoff was exceptionally sarcastic and ironic, and you sometimes you felt that she was a more aggressive female version of your former partner Bucky Barnes. She was quite individualistic, and you had to make an effort not to get left behind, or you had to constantly remind her that you were a duo, but otherwise she was a good partner, and you were happy to invite her to lunch with you, which eventually became a habit after a week.

And then you had Wanda Maximoff. You weren't friends, but you had a strange kind of complicity as biology partners. You never would have guessed that Wanda would have a sense of humor so similar to yours. Two classes in a row, and you already had inside jokes about the way Ms. Darkholme caught the attention of her students. Two weeks in, and you two knew how to cheat your way through assignments. You didn't know how to make friends, and judging by the history of who Wanda was hanging out with, you had the impression that she wouldn't want to develop any kind of relationship with you. And honestly, this was your last year, you wouldn't see these people again, so you were more than satisfied to have just one good lab partner.

With the mid-winter vacations approaching, you were looking forward to getting some rest.

Non-Reader Pov

- God, Wanda, why are you talking about that weirdo again? - interrupted Vision impatiently. His girlfriend blinked in confusion, looking away awkwardly.

- I'm just commenting on a joke we…

- Really, Wanda? - He interrupted again with an accusing look. - It seems like all you do lately is "comment" on your little jokes in class. - He sneers as he settles down on the sofa. The two of them stand together outside the school, their group of friends watching the discussion with amusement. - I don't know why you talk to her at all. She is so silent and awkward with me in chemistry class.

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, looking forward. 

- I think your girlfriend has a girl crush. - Tony Stark sneered next, making everyone laugh. Wanda frowned, feeling her heart race.

- You are an idiot. - She grumbled impatiently, crossing her arms. Vision looked at her curiously.

- Honey, don't tell me that you actually appreciate that girl? - he asks ironically, and Wanda rolls her eyes without looking at him. Vision laughs. 

And then Tony is holding out a craft-paper covered bottle to Vision, and he takes a sip, coughing slightly afterwards. Wanda frowns at the scene, but none of her friends seem concerned that they are drinking during school hours, as the bottle continues to pass in everyone's hand.

- You know, I think it's sweet that you have sympathy for that freak. - Tony comments a moment later and Wanda tells him to fuck off, making him laugh. 

- I think we are witnessing a beautiful love story. - Mocks Pepper, Tony's girlfriend, approaching the three of them as she sits on Stark's lap. Wanda rolls her eyes, as the group laughs. And then Vision has a thoughtful expression.

- I have an idea. - He says slightly drunk, as he throws his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. - Let's make a bet.

Tony and Pepper let out excited exclamations, while Wanda frowns.

- What kind of bet?

- Well, you guys remember when the weirdo dressed up as Presley for Halloween, right? - he asked, and Tony and Pepper laughed, agreeing. - And then Pietro saw her kissing that girl who hang with the bikers, Jones something.

- Jessica. - Pepper clarified before taking another sip of her drink. 

- Then we know she's a dyke. - Vision says, but Tony frowns.

- Wasn't she dating that guy with the long hair and the angry face? 

- Barnes? - Vision asked and Tony nodded. - I don't think so. Anyway, she is into girls. - he said and the group nodded in agreement. - I mean the bet is this: I can prove that she is just like everyone else in this school. Give her a bit of our attention, and she will be completely obsessed.

- Vis, what are you talking about? - Wanda asked, and Vision laughed ironically.

- It's very simple, love. - He says. - You are hot. Everyone knows that, and even someone like her, who pretends not to be part of the social circles of this school, can see that. - He clarifies, and the group looks at him intently. Wanda doesn't say that she doesn't like being objectified, swallowing the bitter feeling in her stomach. - So my bet is that you win her over. It should take what, one or two dates for her to be completely in love with you.

The friends laugh in irony and Wanda thinks she should follow, but only a forced laugh escapes. Because of the alcohol, no one notices.

- This is ridiculous. - Wanda comments and then Vision looks at her with irony.

- Unless you're getting attached to the girl, dear. - He sneers, and the group laughs. Wanda swallows dryly, shaking her head in denial. - So, what's the problem? You'll just prove me right. And you will realize that there is nothing special about her. 

- I think we can make this even more fun. - says Tony with a wicked smile. - I bet you a hundred bucks that Wanda will fall in love too.

Tony sneers and the group laughs with irony.

- As if anyone would even like that girl. - Vision declares, accepting another drink. 

- How do we make sure it's working? - Tony asks and Vision bites his lip thoughtfully. Then he lets out an exclamation.

- Our trip! - he says, and then turns to Wanda. - Love, invite the weirdo to the cabin! We can watch you work.

Wanda frowns, but then the group is suggesting ideas of conquest, and laughing, and debauchery, and she hates it. But she smiles, and nods in agreement, accepting the liquor as the bottle comes into her hand.

Reader Pov

You intended to study during the winter vacations. And maybe get out of the room a little if Bruce or Monica visited. Your surprise was genuine when in your last biology term, Wanda Maximoff started talking to you about something other than the subject.

- Hey, are you doing anything this holiday? - she comments amiably. You didn't notice the looks Tony Stark was giving you two from the front seat. 

- Huh... No?

- Are you asking me? - She replies with a smile. You blush, looking away at your notebook. Wanda bites her cheek, and it takes a moment for her to speak again. - I wanted to invite you to something.

You blink in surprise, looking at Wanda. She looks away from the board for a moment, as she wiggles her fingers against her own thigh.

- My friends and I are spending the holiday in a cabin. - She clarifies. - There's all this winter activities, you know. Skiing and stuff like that. I'd like you to come.

- Why? - The question slips out a little harshly, but you can't help it. Wanda looks away, and you almost apologize. But then Wanda smiles, shrugging.

- I'd like to get to know you better, I guess. - She says. - I think it would be fun if we could be friends outside of class.

You look at her suspiciously for a few seconds. But then you sigh, looking down at the notebooks.

- Alright, Wanda. - you say after a moment, ignoring the growing anxiety in your stomach. - Is it okay if I bring a friend?

- Of course! - She confirms excitedly. - You can take whoever you want, it's a big place. 

The teacher gives a warning for side conversations next, and you shut up. You blush when Wanda approaches you to write down her phone number in her notebook. You are distracted enough not to notice her blushing slightly when Tony Stark gives her a mischievous look. 

//-//

- So you actually said yes? - Bruce asked with surprise when you told him about the biology class, while you were having lunch together in the cafeteria. Monica had the same expression.

- Yes, and I would love it if you would go with me, because I think I am close to completely freak out. - You ask with mild desperation and your friends laugh. And then Monica is looking behind you.

- Look, I would be too. They are so... - She starts and you turn around, looking at the group of Wanda's friends a few meters away. The kids are sitting at the table, making noise with their loud laughter. One of them was throwing a football up in the air. A short boy walked past them and was pushed slightly. - I can't even define them.

You let out a grumble, laying your head on your arms on the table.

- This was a bad idea, wasn't it, guys? - you ask. - They're going to eat me alive.

- Why the long faces, nerds? - Natasha asked as she came over to the table, placing the tray of food next to Monica, staring at you. 

And then your friends explained it to her, and you groaned in dissatisfaction when she started laughing.

- You've lost your mind, haven't you? - she asked wryly. - It's a trap, I'm sure.

- There's no reason for it. - You retorted, trying to eat a little. - Besides, it was Wanda who invited me. She said she'd like us to be friends.

- Look, I know that Maximoff is the least worst of the bunch. - Nat began as she opened her soda. - But she still hangs around with those idiots. 

- Yeah, I know. - You agree with a sigh. And then you remember your classes. - I just... She has been surprisingly nice, you know? I think she was being sincere. It's just a trip, it's not the end of the world.

- Good to know you think that. - said Bruce. - Because I won't be able to go.

- What? - You then exclaim.

- I applied for an internship at S.H.I.E.L.D. Labs. - He remarks and you let out a grumble, remembering.

- Shit, it's true. - You say. - I completely forgot about it.

- Girl, I can't go either. - Informs Monica with a guilty expression, and you let out an exclamation. - I'm going to spend the holiday with my father.

You bury your face in your hands. And then you risk a glance at Natasha, and she laughs wryly.

- Don't even try. - She says. - Even if you paid me I wouldn't travel with Tony Stark.

- I'll pay you.

Nat laughs at your desperation, and stops eating, looking at you with surprising kindness.

- You, girl, are adorable and kind. A nerdy cute dork, and I'm sure that if that's not enough for those idiots, they're the problem, not you. - She assures you, and you smile wryly. - Don't worry about pleasing any of them, you're going to become friends with Wanda, aren't you? Try to enjoy the trip, and if anything happens, call me and I'll finish them all off.

You laugh, nodding slightly. You don't want to think so much about this trip, but you know it's going to be the only thing on your mind for the next few days.

The week ended quickly. And you were very anxious when the weekend arrived, and you received a text message from Wanda saying that she would pick you up at home on Saturday morning. You would spend the holiday at the Stark family's winter cottage, a property big enough to fit the whole group. Wanda said it was somewhere with mountains, near a lake, and you bit your lip, wondering if you should bring a bathing suit. Since it was snowing, you figured you wouldn't try to swim anywhere.

On Saturday you were up bright and early, your bags packed. You kissed your parents and your younger brother on the cheek before you left, finding a pickup truck parked in front of your house.

Wanda hugged you when you said good morning to her, and to the boys. Vision and Pietro were in this car, and she said that Tony was in the second car, and had gone for gas.

Vision drove towards the cabin next, and he tried a little small talk before shutting up. Wanda was in the passenger seat, and Vision let his hand rest on her thigh, and you didn't understand the bitter feeling in your stomach.

- God, put on some decent music! - asked Pietro, scrambling up on the seat beside you to reach for the radio.

- Leave it, Pietro! - complained Vision pushing the boy backwards. - You only want to play that emo shit!

Pietro laughed, not insisting. And Vision looked at you through the rearview mirror.

- Let's let our guest choose the music. - he said with a smile. You cleared your throat. 

- Okay. - You agreed, pulling your cell phone out of your pocket. You turned on Spotify next, and when Vision asked if it would be any longer, you bit the inside of your cheek. And then you put on some pop rock.

Nobody said anything, and you thought that somehow you had just passed some kind of test. But then your set list started, and when the classic rock song from the 50's started playing, Vision burst out laughing.

- They don't call you Presley Freak for nothing. - He scoffs, switching to the radio next. 

- I like it. - Wanda comments surprising you, but neither Vision nor her brother change their debauched posture.

- Yes, yes, your taste is terrible too. - He replies with irony. You bite your lips as you watch Wanda roll her eyes and look away to the window. Vision lets Pietro choose the music next.

The cabin was really very big. 

You guys met Tony's car on the way, but he didn't stop. It didn't take long for you to arrive. You smiled in appreciation at Pietro when he carried your bags inside.

You looked at the structure impressed. Tony Stark really was very rich. Hugging your arms lightly after feeling the cool breeze, you smiled politely at Wanda's other friends as they greeted you.

- I am Pepper Potts, and this is Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. - says the blonde girl cheerfully, as she waves to the other boys. - You must have met Tony by now.

- I think I've seen all of you at school. - You say feeling out of place, but they smile as they walk into the cabin. Tony hands the bags to the other boys, and then is throwing an arm around your shoulders, and you want to push him away for the inappropriate contact.

- It's a pleasure to meet you, sweetie. - He says, and you blink when you feel the alcohol. - Who knew that nerds hid pretty girls with them?

The joke makes the group laugh, and you look around uncomfortably. Tony then releases you as you enter. 

Pepper is the one who shares the rooms, and you are happy to know that you won't be sharing with anyone. 

While you are unpacking upstairs on your bed, Wanda joins you.

- Hey. - She greets me as she enters and closes the door. You're folding your clothes.

- Hi, Wanda.

- Is everything okay? - she asks and you nod in agreement. - They can be a bit much sometimes, and I don't want you to get uncomfortable and... Do you like "Bewitched"?

The sudden question startles you and you blink in confusion. Wanda nods at the item in your hands. The T-shirt you are folding has the logo of the old sitcom you used to watch with your parents.

- Oh yes. - You sigh in agreement. - It is one of my favorite shows actually.

Wanda laughs in surprise, crossing her arms.

- Wow, I didn't know that. - She says. - I love this stuff. Vision thinks the jokes are stupid, so don't tell him I'm talking about it.

She jokes and you let out a wry exclamation.

- Why would I tell Vision anything? - You ask and Wanda hesitates slightly, but then smiles.

- No, it was just a figure of speech. - She clarifies as you fold your shirt.

- Right. - You say, not really understanding this conversation. - If you want, we can watch it together anytime. I think we'll have time to do it here.

Wanda looks at you with surprise and excitement.

- Really? I'd love to. - She confirms, and you smile as you finish packing. 

The redhead clears her throat afterwards.

- I just wanted to check on you anyway. - she says. - I think Steve is cooking dinner tonight, so join us when you' re ready.

- Okay, Wanda. - You say. - Thanks.

She smiles before leaving. You stare at the Bewitched's T-shirt on your bed for a few moments before you leave.

Steve tries to cook some chicken breast. And he almost burns the kitchen down. So you are on your feet, investigating the cupboards, and although cooking is not your favorite activity, you don't mind making some chili for everyone. 

- I love Mexican food. - Wanda comments excitedly as she stands next to you and watches you cook. The rest of the group is in the living room, the boys being very noisy as they throw a soccer ball around the room. You smile at the redhead next to you. 

- God, did you see the picture that Tabitha Smith posted on instagram? - Pepper asked aloud, staring at her cell phone. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, a look of disgust on her face. Wanda approached her and quickly looked at the screen. - She put on silicone, I'm sure of it. 

Wanda made a noise of agreement, exchanging a quick glance with you, clearly not caring one bit about the topic, and you smiled, turning your attention back to the pot. Pepper didn't notice and continued making comments about her classmates' social media posts.

- It's ready. - You announce. Your breath catches in your throat as Wanda puts her hand on your waist, leaning behind your back to taste the food. She lets out a satisfied groan, and you feel her cheeks flush.

But then she walks away next, and you struggle to disguise yourself as the boys are joining you, announcing that they are starving. 

- Wow, this is delicious. - said Pepper as soon as you sat down at the table and started to eat. The group agreed, and you blushed with embarrassment. Soon they started talking among themselves, and you tried to keep up as best you could, but the topics weren't really of interest to you.

When you got back to the room, Tony proposed that you all play a game, and then he went through the storage room and came back carrying monopoly.

At first you thought it would be innocent fun, then there were drinks and gambling. 

- It's a four! - shouted Tony excitedly. - That's my property, Wilson! 

Sam let out a grumble of dissatisfaction as he moved his figure around the board. Tony laughed mischievously.

- So, how do you want me to pay the rent?  - Sam asked and Tony made a thoughtful face. 

- With a question. - Tony announces maliciously. - Among the people in this room, tell me who would you have sex with?

Sam laughs in surprise, as the group gives a chorus of excitement. You swallow dryly, uncomfortable with the direction of the questions. So far, the questions and challenges had been innocent and slightly awkward, but after a few beers, the group was clearly getting more excited in other respects.

- Careful with your answer, friend. - Vision warned, putting his arm possessively around Wanda's shoulders. You looked away to the board.

- That might be shocking for a straight guy, Vis. - Sam remarked with mild debauchery. - But not all of us are looking at the girls.

The group laughs in surprise, and Vision rolls his eyes. 

- I would do Steve Rogers for sure. - Sam declares the next moment, and the group lets out a celebratory chorus. Steve laughs too, slightly surprised. Sam just smiles playfully, shrugging his shoulders. Then Steve steps forward, amusing himself by pretending to kiss him, and the group laughs. You smile awkwardly, not really understanding what everyone thinks is funny.

The game continues, and you are doing very well. You laugh when Pepper has to tell you all about the worst sexual experience she has ever had, but you are slightly uncomfortable when Steve has to demonstrate on a pillow his first time. A few rounds later, you grumble in dissatisfaction when you take a five and end up in jail.

- Whoa, that's has a punishment. - Tony announces when he sees your move. You look at him, and he looks excited. - Finally, Presley, your moment has come.

- Tony. - Wanda scolds him for his nickname, but Tony doesn't listen.

- Let me think about it. - He continues with a thoughtful expression, and then a mischievous gleam takes over his gaze. - Have you ever heard that shy girls are the biggest freaks in the room? 

You swallow dryly, feeling your face heat up as the group lets out a laugh. 

- I will not...

- Don't even start. - Tony interrupts your denial with a smile. - Don't spoil the fun. I'll give you a simple challenge.

You bite the inside of your cheek, frowning as you fight the urge to get up.

- Your sentence of freedom will be to give a hickey to the person who gets a six on the dice. - He declares, and the group lets out a chorus of excitement.

And then everyone is rushing to throw the dice and you cross your arms, feeling your face hot.

- If more than one person gets six, you'll give them both a hickey and win immunity for a round! - Tony laughs as he makes up the rules.

Pepper is the first to play, and lets out a despondent sigh when she draws two.  And then Steve plays next, and complains when the die lands on four. Sam and Tony don't get six either. You hold your breath when Wanda rolls, and feel your heart race when the die stops.

- This should be interesting. - Vision comments with mild irony and mischief as he takes his arm off Wanda's shoulders, picking up the die stopped at six. Tony laughs and you can't keep your eyes on the redhead.

Vision gets a four. And then Pietro gets a six, and you grumble.

- I can't believe you're going to get both of the Maximoffs! - Wilson comments with amusement and you swallow dryly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

- Finally some action. - Pietro jokes as he approaches. He kneels in front of you, and you take a deep breath. - Come on, Y/N, it's just a silly challenge.

He tries to reassure you with a smile, and you try to ignore the staring eyes on the two of you. You think the boys are laughing as you bring your face closer to Pietro's outstretched neck, and land your lips on his skin. He smells like aftershave lotion, but it's just embarrassing to be so close. Pietro lets out a breathless chuckle as you begin to suck on his skin, and he clenches the support of the couch.

You stop quickly, and he pulls away. The red skin glows on his neck. He flashes you the seductive smile, and you look away, listening to the group celebrating. 

- Next, please! - Tony says clearly intoxicated. You feel your racing heart echoing in your ears. Wanda gets up from the couch, and unlike her brother, she completely short-circuits your brain when she sits on your lap. You think someone whistled.

- Wanda, what are you doing? - You mumble clumsily, and she just smiles as she puts her hands on your shoulders.

- Don't you like this position? - she asks and you swallow dryly.

- Come on, girls! - Tony tells you between laughs. Someone knocks over the vodka bottle on the floor, making a mess. You think the group is barely paying attention to you, fighting among themselves to save the rest of the board and Tony's expensive rug, but you're not really taking in anything other than the girl on your lap.

You move forward, sinking your face into her neck and inhaling Wanda's scent. When you let out your breath, she trembles and squeezes your shoulder lightly, making you swallow dryly.

You let your lips kiss her skin, watching Wanda's chest rise and fall, indicating her unregulated breathing. And then you lick her skin, and she chokes. When you suck on her skin, she bites her lips hard, stopping herself from moaning.  And then you let go.

Ignoring the urge to kiss the red dot again, you throw your back against the armchair, moving away. Wanda lets out a breath, and before you can say anything, Tony is complaining that the game is over because the board has been ruined, and she rushes off your lap. 

Your face is very hot when Sam makes a snide remark to you, and then you are all saying goodnight. You don't have the courage to look at Wanda when you go up to your room.

//-//

The next day you go skiing. 

You absolutely suck at it, but so does everybody else, so nobody really cares. 

You don't want to think so much about Wanda's hands on your waist when she teaches you how to do it.

You also don't want to be so annoyed when Vision insists on getting a kiss from her while you are walking back to the cabin.

During the afternoon, you are distracted by a video game with Pietro, extremely surprised that he has invited you to do something. After dinner you go back to your room to read a little, and are astonished when Wanda appears at your door a few minutes after you have gone upstairs.

- How about we watch a sitcom together? - She invites you in, and you shrug as you smile, making space for her to enter your room. She giggles when she notices the open book on your bed. - Of course you brought a book.

You laugh awkwardly as you close the door. Wanda throws herself on your bed, opening the laptop she has brought with her. You take the book out and place it closed on the dresser, before joining her, trying to keep a respectable distance.

She ends up putting on Bewitched, and you are distracted enough by the program.

- Wow, that's kind of wrong. - You comment between giggles. And Wanda laughs lightly, turning the program's attention to you.

- What?

- The joke. - You clarify. - The way they imply that it's okay for boys to behave like that.

- Yeah, I know. - She agrees, turning her attention back to the screen. - But we're still laughing.

- Yeah. - You agree, laughing. - I guess it's okay as long as we don't find it funny in real life.

Wanda makes a noise of agreement with her mouth and then you are silent again. 

Two episodes later, Wanda suggests that you eat something. Then you go downstairs to the kitchen, and find the room empty. 

- Pietro had called the boys to play soccer. - She says. - And I think Pepper and Tony are in their room.

You nod in understanding, following her around the kitchen. Wanda starts preparing a snack for you two.

- What is it? - You ask as you observe her choice of ingredients. She smiles mischievously.

- My masterpiece. - She says. - Just trust me, you'll like it.

You laugh, nodding. When she warms the bread rolls, and starts to pour oregano on top you let out an exclamation.

- Wanda, are you sure you know what you're doing? 

She laughs, shaking her head slightly.

- Trust me on this. - She asks with a smile, starting to cut tomatoes. You cross your arms, not believing that you are actually going to eat that.

And then the sandwich is ready, and Wanda assumes a cheerful posture. She puts the bread on a plate and turns to you, leaving the object on the counter beside you.

You take a piece while she takes another, and together you taste the sandwich while Wanda looks at you expectantly.

It's surprisingly good, and you blink in amazement when you feel the taste, looking away from her to the food.

- Wow, that's good. - You comment before taking another bite. Wanda smiles.

- Really? I'm glad you like it. Vision doesn't like it very much, he says it tastes strange.

You grumble lightly, continuing to eat. Wanda pours you two some soda. You are silent for a moment and when she leaves the phone on the countertop to wash the dishes, your gaze runs quickly across the screen as you reach for your glass.

- Hey, are you into poetry? - you ask as you look at the open Instagram post.

Wanda smiles, nodding.

- That's cool, I think we follow the same page. - You comment quickly pointing to her unlocked cell phone. Wanda looks surprised.

When she finishes washing the dishes, she asks to borrow your cell phone. You spend the next thirty minutes laughing and joking as you compare your Instagram feeds and follower list. You don't want to overthink on how many common interests you have with Wanda.

//-//

On the penultimate day you want to build a snowman.

There is a Hockey game on TV, and everyone seems excited to watch. So you just walk out of the cabin while Tony hands out snacks and drinks to everyone.

You are just finishing assembling the body when you hear footsteps.

- You are very antisocial. - Wanda jokes as she approaches, hands in her pockets. You don't want to think about how adorable she looks.

- Yeah, I know. - You comment with your attention on the snowman. - It's not your friends' fault, by the way, I'm just not a big sports fan.

- All right, I don't see what's so funny about it either. - She says as she stops beside you. - Can I help you with him?

- Let me see your hands. - You ask, and she looks at you in confusion, taking her hands out of her pockets. You deny it. - No gloves, no playing. I don't want you to get hypothermia.

She laughs lightly, putting her hands back in her pockets. You turn your attention back to the snowman.

- We can go for a walk. - You suggest after a moment. - Since we're not going to watch the game.

Wanda smiles, looking away to the cabin.

- Okay.

You finish your snowman in silence. It's decent you think.

- I used to do it all the time. - You tell her as you stand up, putting your hands in your pockets. Wanda looks at you curiously. - But then I grew up and my parents thought it was a kid thing.

- Yeah, I know how that is. - She agrees as you stare at the snowman. - One birthday is all it takes for the treatment to change completely.

You nod in agreement, and then you look at her, signaling for you to go the other way.

You walk side by side in the opposite direction of the cabin.

After spending the whole way talking about the most random subjects, you end up at a small pier, at the edge of the lake that covers the entire back stretch of the cabin. You and Wanda sit side by side on the wood cross-legged.

- We should have brought something hot to drink. - You comment with a smile, hugging your arms for a moment. Wanda nods.

- So, are you enjoying the trip? - Wanda asks and you look away, smiling at the lake.

- I suppose so.

- You suppose? - She replies with amusement, making you laugh.

You clear your throat before speaking again.

- I enjoyed the time I spent with you. - You confess, looking forward. Wanda wiggles her fingers nervously, looking away from you to face the lake as well. - Don't get me wrong, Wanda. Your friends are... nice I guess. But they're not the reason I'm here.

You look at Wanda, and she nods frantically. Your heart is racing, but playing games isn't exactly your thing. You want to know what's going on.

- And you? - you ask, studying her face. - Did you enjoy the time I was here?

- Yes. - Wanda confesses breathlessly, her face flushing slightly. 

Swallowing hard, you look away to the lake again. And then you slowly move your hand against the wood, reaching for Wanda's hand next. You give it enough time for her to move away, or to strike you, and she does neither. Feeling your heart soar, you intertwine your hands, holding back a sigh at how good it feels even when wearing gloves.

Several minutes later, you let out an excited exclamation when you hear a noise in the nearby forest. Turning your head, you confirm your suspicions. A small white fox is looking at you curiously. 

You help Wanda to get up quietly and slowly so as not to startle the animal.

- Hey. - You say softly to the animal, walking towards it. The fox looks at you wide-eyed, but your posture doesn't frighten him. You smile when he lets you pet him.

- He is so cute. - Wanda comments softly, kneeling down beside you. The fox lies down on the grass as the redhead strokes his head.

He tires of the attention quickly however, and the next moment he gives you a look before running back into the forest. You and Wanda laugh lightly as you two stand up.

You walk back to the cabin in silence, a tension in the air that makes your stomach turn. You don't hold hands, but you walk very close together. 

When you are almost to the cabin area, you stand in front of Wanda, pushing her by the waist against a tree. You both sigh breathlessly, but you lose the courage. It's not right, not yet. Resting your forehead on hers, resisting the urge to kiss her, you close your eyes.

- Leave him. - You say and Wanda squeezes her hands in your arms.

Wanda lets out a sigh, closing her eyes like you did, and your faces come closer together.

- I won't share you, Wanda. - You whisper against her lips. - Either you're with me, or you're not.

Resisting the urge to close the distance, you sigh and turn away. Wanda's pupils are dilated as she looks at you. You lock your jaw, putting your hands in your pockets. And then you turn around, and disguise it nicely when Pepper comes out of the cabin, asking where you were, and you just smile and say you went for a walk.

//-//

Vision and Wanda argue on the last day at the cabin. 

You frown as your awakened by the volume of the argument. But you decide not to pry, and when Pepper signals for you to join her on her morning walk, you agree.

- You know, you are surprisingly nice. - She comments as you two take a break for some water.

- Thanks, I guess. - You mumble, and she laughs.

- What I mean is that nerds are usually know-it-all types and not at all sociable. - She explains. - You're quiet, but you're fun.

- Who says I'm not a know-it-all. - You retort with amusement, and Pepper laughs as you walk back.

- I'm just saying that it turned out to be nice to invite you over despite everything.

- Despite everything what?

Pepper laughs awkwardly, shaking her head.

- The differences between our groups I say. - She quickly clarifies. You don't perceive the lie. - Maybe there is a chance for us to remain friends after here.

- Why wouldn't we? - you ask confused. Pepper seems to be talking as if it is impossible for you to continue talking to each other after the trip is over, and you don't understand why.

Pepper blinks in embarrassment, and then pats your arm, hurrying her steps.

- It's nothing, I'm just overthinking it. - she says. - I'm sure it will all work out.

You don't ask any more questions because she's walking too fast, and exercise isn't really your thing. You're struggling to keep up.

//-//

After your walk with Pepper, you agreed to let Steve teach you how to play a bit of hockey. And then you all had lunch together, and Wanda avoided all your attempts to start a conversation with her. You figured she was upset with her boyfriend, so you didn't press her.

Later in the afternoon, after you played snowball wars with everyone, and perhaps laughed more than appropriate when Wanda kept hitting Vision in the face, Steve made a fire in the backyard area and everyone gathered around.

- Let's tell some horror stories, please? - Pietro asked as he sat down, and Tony slapped him on the head, laughing. 

- You are such a baby. - he sneered, holding out a bottle of whiskey to Steve. You rolled your eyes, impatient with Stark's annoying mania for proving his maturity.

Then he began to share sex stories, and the group seemed happy to join in. The bottle swirled around, and you let it pass you by without taking a sip. It stopped at Wanda, and she drank much more than anyone else.

- And you, Y/N, don't you have any sinful stories to share with the group? - teased Tony ironically, and you rolled your eyes.

- I prefer to be silent.

Tony laughed at her hostility.

- Now all that's left is for you to say you're a virgin! - he sneered, causing the group to laugh. You exchanged a quick glance with Wanda, who didn't even seem to be listening, the whiskey bottle still in her hands.

- I'm not, but if I were that wouldn't be your business - You retort impatiently. Tony whistles impressed.

- Tell us how it was! - he asks excitedly. - I bet it was Jessica Jones who fucked the weirdo!

You stand up abruptly as the group laughs.

- You're drunk, and you're talking shit. - you say angrily. - But if you ever annoy me again, I will punch you right in the face!

Tony seems slightly impressed by your attitude, but he is clearly drunk so he shrugs his shoulders. You then leave, returning to your room.

Non-Reader Povs

- What is your problem? - Pietro complained as soon as Y/N entered the cabin. Tony blinked surprised and alcoholic.

- It was just a joke, it's not my fault she's weird. - He retorted with a wry laugh.

Pietro let out an irritated exclamation.

- You know what? - He spoke angrily, looking at everyone. - What we're doing is wrong.

- What was that? - Vision sneered, but Pietro looked at him seriously.

- You heard me. - he said, getting up. - She's a nice girl and she's been fun to be with. That bet was stupid.

The teens exchange guilty glances, but then Tony and Vision are laughing.

- One hickey and you're in love, Maximoff? - Vision sneered and stood up, as Pietro clenched his jaw. 

- You're an asshole. 

- Oh, I'm an asshole? - Vision retorted ironically. - This little scene of yours is absurd, treating your friends as if we were the villains of the story. - he says laughing. - The girl is a weirdo who must be absolutely fascinated that people like us even talk to her!

Pietro looks at him impatiently, but Vision does not lose his debauched posture.

- Shut up. - Wanda's drunken speech startles the group. Vision turns to her in surprise, but then he laughs.

- That's excellent. - He says. - Both Maximoffs teaming up against the group.

- You're full of shit. - Wanda exclaimed angrily, getting up, and Vision shook her head. - She's not...

- She's not what dear? - He interrupted. - You know I'm right. In fact, I bet if you go up to her room right now, you won't even need to ask twice and she'll fuck you.

- Vision! - Pietro exclaims angrily, but he stares only at the redhead, who has her jaw clenched.

- Everyone just wants to fuck you, Wandy. - He says. - There's nothing worthwhile beyond that.

Wanda holds back the tears in her eyes, bumping into Vision as she leaves, and the boy laughs, shouting between giggles that he was only joking, but the redhead doesn't turn around. 

- That was cruel. - Potts then said, and Vision let out a wry laugh.

- It was just a joke. - He says and sits back down. - You girls are so sentimental. 

Pietro then leaves, and Vision rolls his eyes. Steve and Sam exchange a look with Pepper.

- You can't really think it's okay to say something like that to your girlfriend. - Steve said annoyed. Vision laughs, incredulous at Steve's insinuation. - What is it, people? - he replies. - I just said she's hot, how is that a bad thing?

- You know, Pietro is right. - Steve said as he got up. - This whole story is absurd. - Steve, come on. - No, he is right. - Sam then agreed. And then Pepper stood up, exchanging a look with Tony. - Good, then. - Vision exclaims angrily. - Be my guests! I suppose you'll start hanging out with the school's weirdos on Monday then. You guys are a joke. Hypocrites. Vision grumbles before exiting angrily, walking towards the trail. The group exchanged a guilty look.

Reader Pov

You had just finished showering and putting on your pajamas when Wanda came into your room. You frowned in surprise, and let out an exclamation when she pushed you onto the bed and sat you on your lap.

- What are you doing? - you asked, and Wanda just grumbled, trying to unbutton your pajamas, but clearly too drunk to do so. - Wanda, stop. Wanda!

- That's what you want, isn't it? - She retorts with irritation, but her eyes are filled with tears. - Everyone wants to fuck the hot girl.

- Wanda, what are you talking about?

But then she's crying, falling against you. You let your arms go around her, trying to calm her down. She only stops crying when she falls asleep.

You don't know what has happened, but you feel your heart clench. Moving to the bed, you lay Wanda down on the mattress, then cover her with the blanket. 

When you consider going to sleep in the living room, she takes your hand and whispers "stay," and you obey her.

//-//

You wake up with Wanda entwined with you. It is warm and comforting, and you smile shyly at the sensation. 

The redhead starts to wake up next, grumbling as she buries her face in your neck, making you smile.

- We have to get up. - You whisper to her. - We're leaving.

- In a minute.

She says and it really only takes a moment for her to open her eyes, and be startled by the position. She awkwardly pulls away from your embrace, but still lies there. You turn on the bed to look at her, resting your face on your hand.

- I'm sorry about last night. - She says embarrassed, looking down.

- No problem. - You say. - But what was that about anyway?

Wanda sighs, running her hands through her hair as she stares at the ceiling, her back on the mattress.

- Vision told me some stupid things, and well, I believed him. - She says and you look at her curiously. With your silence, she clarifies. - It was just some comments he used to make about my body, okay? Things like, people are only interested in me because I'm hot.

You frown, surprised and annoyed. 

- That's bullshit.

Wanda looks at you, surprised that you said something. You look into her eyes as you speak again.

- Your boyfriend is an insecure scumbag who uses your body insecurities against you. It's sick. - You tell her seriously. - You, Wanda Maximoff, are completely passionate for a thousand reasons other than your looks. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

You smile at Wanda's surprised expression, letting your fingers wander across her features. 

- Do you really mean that? - she asks insecurely, and you give her a tender look.

- You're sweet. - You start, letting your fingers caress her cheek. - Smart and sincere. You have this different energy, like you never fit anywhere and you're absolutely magnetic. - You tell her. - And of course, you also laugh at my jokes, which suggests that you are as sarcastic and perceptive as I am. 

Wanda smiles and closes her eyes for a second, and then looks at you with almost guilt.

- Can I ask you a random question?

- Sure.

- If someone needed to apologize to you, what would be the best way?

- This is a very specific question, Wanda. Should I be concerned? - You retort with mild amusement, and Wanda quickly denies it.

- Come on, answer me. - She asks, and you giggle.

- I don't know, Wanda. - You say laughing, and roll your eyes slightly. - I guess it would depend on what the person did. - You explain, and Wanda looks at you with a frown. - What's that face, what would your answer be then?

- Food. - She says and you look at her with confusion. - The person would only have to buy me food and apologize and I would forgive them.

You let out a laugh, and Wanda follows. And then you assume a thoughtful posture.

- Honestly, I don't think if there is a right way. - You tell her. - I would like the person to be honest with me, and explain to me what happened. - You say, and Wanda nods with a serious expression. - That, or a really cheesy apology act.

- What? - Wanda asks with amusement.

- Yes, like in those old movies. - You clarify with a slight laugh. - If someone apologizes in the rain, or with a serenade at my window, I would probably forgive that person for the shame they are going through for me.

You and Wanda laugh and then your alarm clock starts to ring, signaling that it was already time for everyone to get up and go home. You sigh slightly.

As you sit up in bed, throwing your feet out, Wanda hugs your back, surprising you.

- Thank you. - She says against your ear. - Don't give up on me yet, okay?

You frown in confusion, laughing without understanding Wanda's seriousness. You squeeze your hands together, but then she lets go. 

- Is everything all right? - you ask as she turns around on the bed and stands up in front of you. Wanda swallows dryly, nodding. She smiles before she leaves, and you ignore the strange feeling that has settled on the pit of your stomach as you stand up toward the bathroom.

//-//

The way back to your house is strangely silent. It seems that all of Wanda's friends have changed their personalities overnight. Pietro gives you a quick hug across the shoulders as you get out of the car, and Wanda kisses your cheek. Vision doesn't look at you.

You call your friends as soon as you finish packing your things in your room. And everyone is extremely surprised when you share what has happened in the last few days.

When you return to school the next day, you are feeling excited. 

Your first class is Biology, which means that you would have some time alone with Wanda, and while you wait for the starting bell, sitting on the benches outside with your friends, Wanda's group passes you by. 

You frown as you notice Vision with his arm around Wanda, and she quickly looks away when she notices you watching. You clench your jaw at the childish attitude, and then you are getting up and walking toward the table they have chosen.

- Can I talk to you? - You ask the redhead directly, who seems to have trouble keeping her gaze on you. Her friends also look awkward, as if they are almost embarrassed, and none of them look at you for very long. Completely unlike Vision, who has a smug posture and a wry smile.

- Leave my girlfriend alone, freak. - He then says, and you blink in surprise.

- What is your problem? - You retort in irritation and Vision lets out a wry laugh.

- What is your problem? - He repeats, getting up and facing you. You don't hesitate, but you don't understand why everyone just stares at you. - What did you think was going to happen, huh? That you would start hanging out with the cool kids?

You look at him in confusion, and then he crosses his arms.

- I just want to talk to Wanda.

Vision laughed, looking mocking.

- You're so stupid. - He accused and you took a step back. - The bet is off girl, Wanda has nothing to say.

You blink in confusion, and the redhead is getting up, pulling on her boyfriend's forearm, but you look at them feeling your heart racing.

- What are you talking about?

Vision laughs, releasing Wanda's grip. You think she whispered "Please don't," but you are trying to understand what is going on.

- Oh, your dear friend didn't tell you? - he asks debauchedly. - We had a bet. I was sure you'd be completely obsessed with Wanda by the end of the holiday, and look at you! Here you are. I don't blame you though, Wanda is hot.

You choke in surprise, taking another step back. You risk a glance at the rest of the group, and they have their heads down, guilty looks on their faces. And then you look at Wanda, eyes watering as she clenches her fists. Feeling your heart break, and your stomach clench, you nod.

- Y/N, I can explain. - Wanda starts and you laugh, running your hands through your hair.

- I've always defended you. - You say, putting your hands in your pockets. - When people told me you were false and deceitful, I defended you. I really thought you were different from them.

- I....

- I can't believe I trusted you. - You say. - Never speak to me again, Wanda Maximoff.

You turned around walking away, ignoring the times the redhead called your name as you held back your tears. 

//-//

Your mother told the school that you were sick.

That's how you felt anyway.

It had been three days since you had left your room. Bruce, Monica and Natasha were sending you all the school content you were missing, and you struggled to keep your focus on that and not on the heartbreak that seemed to take over your whole body.

The weekend arrived again, and you decided to get some fresh air. You were on your balcony, sipping hot chocolate when Nat came into your yard.

- Hey, stranger. - She greets you with a smile, sitting down on the seat in front of you. You give her a sad smile.

- Hi, Nat. 

- How are you?

You shrug, and she sighs.

- It will pass, I promise. - She says and you drink some of your chocolate. - By the way, I'm suspended.

- What? - You ask in surprise, and she giggles, showing you the bandage on the fingers of her right hand.

- I punched Vision in the nose shortly after you left the cafeteria. - She tells you, and you widen your eyes in surprise. - I didn't say anything before because I didn't want you to feel guilty.

- Nat! - you exclaim, slightly upset, looking at her hand. - You didn't have to do that.

- I know. - she says with a slight laugh. - But you are my friend, and he is an idiot. You're a dork who doesn't have the strength to hurt a fly, but I have a feeling you'd do the same for me.

You laugh, nodding.

- I would probably get beat up in reality.

Nat laughs in agreement.

You are silent for a moment, until Nat speaks again.

- I hate to see you like this. - She comments, and you sigh, leaving the coffee mug on the table. 

- I hate feeling like this too. 

Nat sighs, opening her arms. You accept her invitation to hug her, and sit down next to her on the bench, letting her wrap you in a side hug.

- You'll come out of this, dear. - She starts to say as she strokes your hair. - Next year you'll be in college, with so many people wanting to get into your pants that you won't even remember who Wanda Maximoff was.

You laugh shyly.

- I hope you are right. - You grumble, closing your eyes.

- I always am.

//-//

You go back to school the following week.

Your body always seems to notice that Wanda is in the same room as you, even though she is meters away, but you learn to deal with the feeling.

You talked to the biology teacher on Monday morning. Apparently, the news quickly spread throughout the school, and she did not refuse to change your partner. 

It wasn't an ideal scenario knowing that everyone in the school was feeling sorry for you, but at least you wouldn't have to talk to Wanda in class.

And so two weeks passed.

You were almost getting used to the feeling as you walked towards the main building, after stopping by the library and returning the physics books you were using, when you heard a commotion in the courtyard.

There was already a circle of students around, and you were considering turning around, because fights are not really your thing, but you had a feeling you should check it out. 

As you slipped in among the students, you let out a surprised exclamation.

- Bruce! - You shouted as you threw the bag on the ground and lunged forward, but the boy who was fighting with your friend just turned around when you jumped at him, breaking free of your grip and laughing with irony and anger. He slapped you in the face that drew a surprised chorus from the crowd. You staggered back with the impact, feeling your face burn. But you stepped forward again, but he gave you a hard shove that knocked you to the ground. As you got up to go forward again, someone grabbed you around the waist. - Pietro, let me go! Help him!

You let out another exclamation when the boy punched Bruce in the face, but Pietro pushed you away from the fight, and Steve held you by the arms in the crowd. Pietro lunged at the boy next, while Bruce fell unconscious.

You broke free of Steve's grip and ran to your friend, and then there were teachers all around you, and you were all being led into the principal's office.

The counselor motioned for you to sit in one of the chairs to wait your turn, and you used this moment to send messages to your friends. Monica told you that she heard about the fight, but that she was in the history room when it happened. Natasha didn't answer, and when she appeared in front of you, you frowned.

- Nat, Bruce he...

- I know. - She interrupted seriously with an almost tearful expression. - He was fighting for me.

- For you? What?

Nat shook her head, looking toward the direction door.

- I told him not to get involved, but he is stubborn. - She says and then takes a deep breath. - That boy over there, his name is Clint. He's my ex. He... he hit me.

- Whoa, what?

- I know, it's too much to explain. - She says. - Me and Bruce, we... we've been going out for a few weeks now. And Clint wasn't happy when he found out. I told Bruce not to get involved but…

- Hey, Nat breathes. - You interrupt by seeing her eyes filled with tears. - This is not your fault.

You hug your friend, trying to calm her down. It doesn't take long for Monica to reach you two.

Soon the director calls you to give your side of the story, and you just tell him that you arrived in the middle of the fight. As you leave, the principal asks you to go to the infirmary and only then you remember that you were beaten.

You give up the idea of getting a bandage when you find Pietro and the group of friends, including Wanda, in the infirmary, but as soon as the nurse lays eyes on you, she pulls you in, sitting you down on one of the free beds.

She starts grumbling that the students have decided to behave like savages as she rushes over with the first aid kits to attend to all the students who were in the infirmary. You don't quite understand what happened, but it seemed that some kids had made a mess in the pesticide gardening class, so there were several students with red spots on their arms complaining of pain.

- It's okay, I can do it. - You tell the nurse as soon as she approaches you with the first aid kit. She looks at you suspiciously, but then a student at your back lets out a complaint and she sighs, handing the items to you as she leaves. You get up to look in the small mirror on the edge of the bed. There is a small cut on your cheek. That guy really hit hard.

While you were preparing the alcohol swab, Wanda walked over to you. You stared at her reflection in the mirror.

- I can help you with this. - She said about the bandage.

- I don't need your help. - You retorted harshly. Wanda looked at the floor. 

- I am sorry. 

You blinked in surprise, and turned away in irritation.

- No.  - You warned, and Wanda swallowed hard.  She looked at you, ready to start talking again, but then you shook your head. - Don't you dare.

- Please…

But you left right away, bumping into her shoulder.

Almost four weeks, and your chest still hurts just the same. 

You think the nurse has called you, but you keep walking towards the exit. 

When you reached the outer courtyard, you collapsed. 

Sitting on the floor, and trying to control your breathing and your crying, you were startled when someone touched your shoulders. Monica didn't ask questions, she just hugged you.

- I can't do it, Mon. - You said between sobs. - I love her so much it feels like I'm going to suffocate.

- Shh, it's okay. - Monica tried to calm you down as she ran her hands down your back.

- Why can't I move on? She hurt me, why can't I stop loving her? - you asked in desperation. Monica just kept calming you. 

- I know it feels like the end of the world now. - Monica says. - But I promise it will pass.

You cried for a few more minutes, trying to push or smother the pain away. It wasn't fair the way Wanda had your broken heart in her hand.

//-//

Bruce did not suffer any serious injuries.

You visited him in the infirmary as soon as he was released from the principal's office. He was worried about your swollen crying eyes, but you assured him that everything was fine.

And then he told you that he was in love with Natasha, and that Clint had been expelled. You shook his hand, saying that everything would be all right now. Soon Nat was in the room with you, hugging Bruce, while you went out with Monica to get something to eat.

The week passed quietly after this. 

Your friends started the "Moving on squad", and they did everything to keep you distracted and well cared for. It was sweet and caring, and it was enough to keep your feelings well under control.

A few days after that mess, you needed to buy tomato sauce for your mother and found Pietro Maximoff in the supermarket checkout line.

- Hey. - He greeted you politely. You felt your heart race at the possibility that he was with his sister. 

- Hi, Pietro. - You answered in the same tone.

You were checking around for signs of the redhead, but Pietro was alone. He said something about the prices, and you just grumbled in agreement, and then it was your turn.

In the parking lot, while you were unlocking your bike, he approached you again.

- I want to apologize to you. - He announced as he approached, and you let out a sigh.

- Look Pietro...

- No. - He interrupts with a quick smile. - I meant it. I'm really sorry. You're a nice girl, and we were idiots. 

You stare at him for a moment, then go back to picking the lock.

- Is that all?

- Yes. - He confirms with a wry smile. But when he turns around, you call out to him.

- I... Thank you for that day. - You say. - You pulled me out of the fight. I probably would have got hurt if... what I mean is... 

- It's all right.- He interrupts with a smile. - It was nothing. 

You nodded and he smiled, turning again and walking away. You finished unlocking the lock and got on your bike.

//-//

The next week you were surprised to find a box of chocolate in your closet.

Nat exchanged a mischievous look with you, and you rolled your eyes absentmindedly, opening the package. It didn't have a name on it, and only said "you are cute". 

- I can't believe you have a secret admirer. - Monica commented excitedly when you told her during lunch. Bruce and Natasha were sitting next to you, laughing lightly as they talked among themselves.

- Neither do I. - You comment with humor. - But the chocolates were good at least.

- I think it’s sweet. - She comments with a smile, and you shrug, blushing.

- It's weird. - You say with a slight laugh, and Monica squeezes your red cheeks lightly, saying that you're adorable, making you laugh. - Damn, I'm terrible at these things.

You start talking about the upcoming exams after that, and then the break ends.

It is in the last period of PE that you speak with Pietro again several days after you saw him last.

- Hey. - He greets you with an excited nod. You smile politely as you tie your shoelaces. 

- Hi. - You say as he joins you.

- Are you going to the game on Saturday? - he asks, causing you to frown. 

- I'm not...

- My god this guy never gives up. - He interrupts with a scowl, looking at something behind you. You turn your head to see what it is, and notice Vision talking to Wanda several feet ahead, near the bleachers. The redhead looks impatient, and you feel your heart ache just by looking directly at her. Shifting your gaze back to Pietro, you notice that he is still grimacing. - They've been broken up for over a month and he still keeps insisting.

You blink in surprise and Pietro looks back at you.

- They broke up?

- I thought you knew. - He quips, slightly surprised, and then shrugs his shoulders. - They broke up that day in the yard. Wanda slapped him in the face in front of the whole school, everyone talked about it for weeks.

- I'm not really into school gossip. - You comment and Pietro laughs.

- Of course not.

You stand up next, your gaze quickly shifting to Wanda, but you disguise it by looking at Pietro, who has an expectant expression on his face. Then you remember the question and let out an exclamation, running your hands through your hair.

- I'm not into sports, Pietro. - You tell him and he nods in understanding, looking upset. - But I like the food. And Natasha loves the games, so maybe I'll show up with my friends there.

Pietro lets out an excited exclamation, and gives you a pat on the shoulder, saying he hopes you can make it, before heading out onto the court. 

You ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach when your gaze meets Wanda's on the other side of the court, and you quickly turn away, starting to do your exercises for class.

//-//

You were slightly surprised by Natasha's outfit. She was covered head to toe in school colors, down to a commemorative hat and matching socks. You looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but she just smiled as she pulled you by the hand to Monica's truck.

- How is the story about the secret admirer going? - Nat asked as you sat in the back seat, and Monica drove to school and Bruce fiddled with the radio.

- I received flowers on Wednesday. - You tell with a smile. - And a collection of special gift vouchers.

- What are these? - She asked curiously, and Monica laughed lightly as you felt your cheeks flush.

- It's a special kind of ... eh ... vouchers for hugs, kisses, that sort of thing. - You mumbled clumsily and Natasha laughed.

- My goodness, look at your face! - She laughed. - You are loving how corny this is.

You grumbled with a hot face, turning your gaze to the window. Bruce chose a very good song next, and your friends started singing along. It didn't take long before you joined them.

//-//

The school stadium was quite crowded. Senior year games always had scouts from universities, so you weren't surprised by family members, and well-dressed strangers in the stands, as well as faculty. 

- Wow, Mom is going to have fun today. - Monica commented as two you walked to the bleachers. She was looking at her cell phone, and showed you a picture of two glasses of wine that Maria had sent her. - She has a date.

- Have you met them? - you asked curiously, and Monica made a noise with her mouth of agreement.

- She's from the Air Force. Very pretty and fun, and she treated me very well. - She told you with a smile. - I hope everything works out between them, Mom deserves to be happy.

You nod in agreement and then you find empty chairs. Bruce and Natasha join you many moments later, carrying the food. 

- Yay, fries. - Monica says excitedly as Natasha distributes the food among you.

The band then enters the stadium. And the crowd seems excited, you and Monica laugh at Natasha's excitement.

As soon as the band makes their formation, the cheerleaders enter the field and the crowd cheers. You try not to look at Wanda so immediately, but that is exactly what you do. When they are all in the center, and finish the performance with lots of applause, the director gets up on the stage and starts announcing the game.

- And without further ado, West View High let's...

The principal is interrupted abruptly by one of the students. You and the audience watch intently as Pepper nudges the principal on the shoulder, and he turns around confused and surprised. She smiles innocently as she quickly takes the microphone from his hand.

- We had a slight change of plans, West View. - she announces, smiling. And then the band is moving on, and you recognize the music quickly. It was an old rock song. The audience sings along excitedly, surprised and in shock, but still happy with the music. 

As the music plays, Pepper turns back to the director, and they discuss something. He lets out a sigh and shakes his head, and she gives an excited little jump, and then is joining the cheering team again.

When the song ends, it is not Pepper who comes up to the podium with the microphone, but Wanda, which generates a lot of comments from the audience.

- Is that? - Natasha starts and you feel your stomach turn.

- Yep.

- Hello West View. - Wanda begins looking nervous, the audience looks at her in anticipation. - Many of you must think me a complete bitch after the rumors that surfaced a few weeks ago.

- Oh my God. - You mumble clumsily, feeling the stares of some people on you. 

- I think I should explain what happened. - Wanda says tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and ignoring the comments from the audience, she continues talking. - My ex-boyfriend and my best friends decided to make a bet. - She explains, and you clench your jaw. - He bet my friends that if I gave even the slightest bit of attention to our colleague, Y/N Y/L/N, she would become obsessed with me in one weekend. - The audience seems shocked by the confessions, but Wanda was looking at you. - The funny thing is, it was the exact opposite. Y/N is this amazing girl, sweet and caring, and I can't stop thinking about her. It must be because I am completely in love with her. - She confessed, and you felt your eyes fill with tears. - But I blew it. I was mean and cruel, and I'm sorry. I'm here to apologize to you Y/N, and you don't even have to forgive me. I just wanted you to know.

The audience erupted in murmurs at the confession, and you were in shock to react. Wanda was also teary-eyed. 

A mixture of "forgive her" and " start the game" and various other comments began to grow louder, and then Director Fury was approaching Wanda, and asking for the microphone back. She took one last look at you, before bowing her head and walking off the field. The audience let out a mixed chorus of celebration and sadness, and then Monica was pushing you slightly, and you waved frantically as you hurried to catch up to Wanda.

- I can't believe you did that! - You shout at her as soon as you reach her in the gymnasium hallway, the noise of the game starting muffled by the distance.

Wanda turns around in surprise, wiping away tears.

- I just...

- When I said the perfect apology would be like a cliché, I can't believe you took it seriously. - You comment as you approach laughing lightly. Wanda looks surprised at your friendly posture. - You are such a dork.

And then you kiss her as you bring your hands to her waist, and she sighs in astonishment, but responds the next second, trembling as your tongues touch. 

You push her against the wall of the hallway, and she slips her arms around your shoulders, melting into the kiss. You separate your mouths for breath.

- I'm sorry. - She asks again with her eyes closed. - I'm really sorry.

- I know. - You agree breathlessly. - Just... don't ever do anything like that again. 

She nods in agreement, kissing you again. It's delicious the way your tongues feel together, making your head spin. You are blushing because Wanda is sighing and making a warm tightness rise in the pit of your stomach.

- I love you too, Wands. - You confess against her lips and she opens her eyes in surprise, you look at her with a smile. - I guess ever since you laughed at my joke in biology class.

Wanda lets out a short laugh, her eyes sparkling with joy.

- I love you. - She answers by kissing you quickly. - I love you. - She repeats and starts depositing kisses all over your face, making you laugh. She repeats and repeats until you kiss her again, intensely this time.

You stay like this for several minutes. Exchanging not-so-innocent kisses against the gymnasium wall. Until the first half of the game is over, and you hear the sound of the players returning to the locker room, and then Pietro is reaching for you, making a false threatening posture when he notices your swollen lips, and Wanda's lipstick on your face.

- Please get a room. - He then jokes, continuing on his way to the locker room. 

You and Wanda agree to leave the stadium, wanting to enjoy some time together without the stares of the audience on you.

You two end up in the back of Monica's truck, staring up at the stars, your hands entwined.

- So it was you who sent the presents. - You conclude by looking at Wanda quickly, to catch her blushing cheeks.

- I was trying to find a way to talk to you. - She explained, turning to you, releasing her hand only to stroke your cheek. - That's why I made the voucher “worth a conversation”.

You laughed lightly, looking at her fondly.

- I liked the kiss coupon. - You say with amusement and she raises her eyebrow, smiling. 

- Yeah? - She replies, bringing your faces together and stealing a lingering kiss from you.

- Best one.

Wanda laughs, pulling away a little. You swallow dryly, watching her carefully. 

- What happens now? - you ask, and Wanda looks into your eyes.

- I don't know. - She says. - But I hope we'll be together in the end.

You smile, nodding. 

- We will. - You assure her before adjusting your position to embrace her. Wanda snuggles against you, enjoying your warmth.