#routinely forget to look at other characters in the scene when he's there

[dameronalone]

interest so special I never take my eyes off of him when he's on screen even if he's literally not in focus

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 12

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose. Also Discussion of toxic media/fandom/death threats.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lando sat on the couch, staring at his phone like it had personally betrayed him. Lizzie, curled up next to him with Mara at her feet, noticed his thumb hovering over the screen, hesitating. She nudged him with her knee.

"Alright, what is it? Did Max send you another cursed meme?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. There was something going on. Something that he hadn't told her yet. 

She had learned to read Lando well enough to pick up on these kinds of unsaid cues. The way he looked, the way he smiled, his eyes just so crinkling at the corners...she knew exactly the titl of his head, the way the right corner of his mouth ticked up in a smile when he read something funny on his phone...She knew. 

And she treasured all these tiny details, hoarded them like a dragon did to it's gold. 

Lando huffed a small laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Worse."

Lizzie's eyebrows furrowed, concern creasing her forehead. That wasn't good.  "Worse? What's worse than Max Verstappen's questionable taste in humor?" she asked, trying to infuse some humour into the situation, but Lando didn't seem interested in that. 

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, you know how I sent that picture of Mara in her Ferrari bandana to Charles?"

Lizzie's face lit up as she nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Yes, how could I forget? The cutest picture I've ever seen."

Her dog was the most adorable dog to ever grace this earth, thank you very much. (She was very much certain that every dog owner had thought that at one moment in time, but she was correct!) 

Lando chuckled and pulled her into his side. She breathed in the scent that was simply him, something fresh and warm and so utterly Lando...feeling his body warmth seep into her, through the thin shirt he was wearing. "Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that a thousand times," he teased. "But you’ll never guess what happened when Charles showed that picture to his girlfriend."

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "What, did she think it was so cute it gave her a heart attack?" she joked. Not that she could fault Charles' girlfriend if that was indeed the case. 

"She recognized Mara," Lando said drily. That was not what Lizzie had expected. Actually that was the last thing she had expected.  "Alexandra Saint Mleux," Lando said, watching her reaction carefully. "is apparently a Lizzie Treshton superfan."

Lizzie’s eyes widened. "Wait, seriously?" she asked, a mix of shock and amusement coloring her voice. Really? "A F1 WAG read my books?"

"Not just her," Lando said, shaking his head. "All of them. And they’ve decided they need to meet you. Effective immediately."

Lizzie stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. 

"So what, they started plotting?" she teased.

"Plotting would be an understatement," Lando said, amused. "I have been forcefully added to the WAG council group chat, and they are demanding that I bring you to a race."

The mere idea of being in a group chat with the wives and girlfriends of Formula 1’s elite sounded like a scene straight out of a fanfiction, but apparently it was her real life now. 

"There’s a WAG council?" She asked, shocked besides herself. That sounded...actually, she had no idea what that sounded like. 

"Apparently."

"That’s amazing," Lizzie said, still giggling. 

Lando made a face. "It’s terrifying."

Lizzie bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "Demanding might be a strong word, though, right?"

"Oh, no," Lando corrected, his expression deadly serious. "There were threats, bribes, and full capital letters. Also, they all want signed copies of Seasons of Fate."

Lizzie let out a soft oh of understanding before shaking her head with a grin. "You know, I really didn’t think this was how our relationship was going to get outed," she said drily. Really. This was really not what she had had in mind. 

"Neither did I," Lando admitted. "But the WAGs are apparently above no tactics when it comes to getting their hands on signed books."

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, her curiosity only growing. "So, what exactly did they say?"

Lando sighed, running a hand through his curls. "Well, for starters, Alex offered to ‘whore out her Ferrari golden boy boyfriend’ if it meant getting you to Silverstone."

Lizzie cackled. "She said that?"

"Verbatim," Lando confirmed, looking equal parts entertained and exhausted. "And apparently, Charles will sign whateveryou want if he doesn’t want to be murdered in his sleep."

She burst out in laughter at that. 

"Well, that sounds like... quite the deal," she said, trying desperately to stay serious. "I don’t know whether to be concerned or find it hilariously absurd."

Lando smirked, clearly amused by the situation. "It’s a lot of both," he assured her. "But they're not afraid to play dirty." He grew serious. "I wanted to talk to you before this all blows up. I know we haven’t exactly been hiding, but we also haven’t been, you know, public."

Lizzie sobered slightly, understanding what he was getting at. "You’re worried about what happens when people know."

He nodded. "It’s just… your life is already busy, and the last thing I want is for my world to make things harder for you. The fans, the media, the scrutiny—it’s a lot. And I don’t want you to feel pressured into dealing with that."

Her heart painfully constricted, her expression softened, because it was clear that Lando was worried about this. "I appreciate that," she said sincerely. "But, Lando… I’ve been dealing with fan and media attention for a while now. I thinkI can handle it."

Lando frowned slightly. "Yeah, but F1 media is different. It’s relentless. They’ll speculate about everything, dig through your old tweets, try to twist things. Hell, they’re probably going to turn Mara into some kind of meme."

Lizzie smirked. "I mean, she is an icon. It’s about time the world recognizes it."

Lando groaned. "Lizzie."

She laughed before squeezing his hand. "Look, I won’t pretend it won’t be overwhelming. But I do know that I don’t want to keep pretending we’re just… nothing."

"You know that they’ll be hounding your every move?" he warned her, his voice tinged with concern. "The fans can be ruthless, the media is relentless, and the tabloids—well, they make up their own storylines."

She nodded. "I won’t lie, I know it’s going to be overwhelming. I mean, I have seen what happens when the internet latches onto F1 relationships. But I also know I don’t want to pretend we’re just… nothing. You make me happy, and I don’t want to hide that."

Lando was silent for a moment, his eyes meeting Lizzie's. His thumb traced a gentle circle on the back of her hand as he seemed lost in thought.

“You make me happy too,” he told her, his voice soft. “But they’ll…they’re going to dissect every little thing. If you don’t come to a race, we’ll probably be at the brink of a break up. If you do come, they’ll write ridiculous headlines of you stealing the spotlights. They are going to speculate on how long we’ve been together, probably even come up with wild conspiracy theories..."

She could hear it in his voice, how much it stressed him...how uch even just the thought of people doing that to their relationship was hurting him. 

"Hey," she said softly. "I’m a bestselling fantasy author, Lando. People come up with wild conspiracy theories about my books on a daily basis. I can handle it."

Lando chuckled at that. "Fair point," he admitted, conceding her argument. The tension in his shoulders eased some. "I just…I want you to be sure,” Lando said hesitantly. “The Formula One fandom is another level when it comes to speculating about relationships. And some fans are bloody mental. I have literally received death threats, and I am not the only one. And the media? They are going to be relentless. They’ll ask questions about you at every race, they’ll bring up your epilepsy, they’ll try to spin things."

Lizzie knew that. She was very much aware of that. But Lizzie had lived with her epilepsy for nearly all her life. She already had heard every single horrible thing somebody could say about that. 

Now it would be more of the same. Simply on a bigger stage. 

Was it scary? Yes. 

Did she care? Not really. 

So Lizzie simply squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I know. I’m not naive. And I won’t pretend it doesn’t scare me a little. But I also know I don’t want to let fear dictate my life. We’re in this together, right?"

"Of course, we are."

Lizzie leaned in, resting her forehead against his. "Then let’s do it."

Lando grinned, all traces of his earlier tension disappearing. "You’re braver than me," he said, pulling her closer so he could kiss her forehead. "Are you sure you’re ready for this circus?"

A mischievous glint flashed in Lizzie's eyes. "Honey, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from writing about a war between magical races, it’s that I can handle whatever comes my way."

Lando chuckled, shaking his head at her audacity. "You’re something else, you know that?" he said warmly. 

"Yes," she said, grinning. "So, you’ll take me to Silverstone?"

"I was supposed to be the one inviting you, you know," Lando muttered, feigning exasperation.

Lizzie just smirked. "Too slow, Norris.  Let’s do it. If the WAGs want signed books, I might as well hand-deliver them."

Lando let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine. But the moment we walk into the paddock together, the internet is going to explode."

Lizzie leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back with a knowing smile. "Then let’s give them a show, shall we?"

[levisjinchuriki]

surveillance — light yagami

summary: L is determined to catch light in the act of being kira. his eyes are glued to the screen, even during vulnerable moments

warning: nsfw!, voyeurism, L is watching for the sake of "surveillance", dom!light, light is kira, petnames, all characters are of age!

L sits hunched over in his chair, his posture rigid as his dark eyes remain fixed on the numerous screens in front of him. each monitor shows different angles of light’s room, capturing every inch of the space. he’s been staring at the feeds for hours now, waiting for something, anything, that would betray light’s mask of innocence. his fingers play with a sugar cube, spinning it absentmindedly between them. light’s routine, as usual, is methodical, almost too perfect—studying, writing, working in a way that seems almost rehearsed. but tonight, there’s something different.

you.

L’s eyes narrow as light moves towards you. light knows about the cameras. he has to. " can almost feel it in the subtle shifts of light's movements, in the way his hand rests a little too casually on your waist as you return from the bathroom, freshly ready for bed.

“we’re being watched” light whispers, his lips grazing your ear, his tone as smooth as ever. his arms snake around your waist, pulling you into him. you tense for a moment, startled by the knowledge, but light is quick to ease your nerves, his soft kiss on your cheek masking the weight of the confession. “just act normal” he murmurs, though there’s a dangerous gleam in his eyes, as if he relishes the thought of putting on a performance.

you manage a smile, though your heart races in your chest. you try not to glance at the room around you, imagining L’s gaze lingering on every corner. he will stop at nothing, it seems, to confirm his suspicions about light. and now, you're part of the game.

light’s touch becomes bolder, his fingers brushing over your skin with a deliberate slowness, savoring each moment. he pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his hand lifting to stroke your cheek, a gesture that appears romantic, but there’s something more behind it. lust and control, all tied up in a neat facade. his lips hover over yours, and you know what’s coming next—the show is about to begin.

when his mouth finally meets yours, it’s slow, calculated. he kisses you with purpose, every movement precise, as if savoring the feel of your lips while knowing L is witnessing every second of it. you follow his lead, leaning into him as the kiss deepens.

L watches from the other side of the screen, his eyes narrowing at the scene unfolding in front of him. he’s observed light before, viewing him in seemingly private moments, but this… it’s something else. something far more intimate. and yet, L can’t look away. he tells himself it's part of the investigation, but there’s a quiet part of him that’s drawn in and leaves him unable to click away.

light’s hands move with ease, slipping under your shirt, feeling the heat of your skin as he pulls you closer. you shiver beneath his touch, momentarily forgetting L's watchful eyes, but light never forgets. he’s always aware, always in control. his fingers find the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head before he kisses you again, more intensely this time. his hands roam your body, feeling, exploring, as he pulls you closer against him.

the thrill of being watched lingers in the air, and you feel the weight of it, the tension between performance and reality. light’s grip tightens on your shoulders, his mouth moving against yours with increasing intensity. you gasp against his lips, your mind spinning, unsure of where the lines between the act and your real feelings blur.

your hands move to light’s chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. you pull him closer, the need between you growing as the tension rises in the room. your fingers unbutton his crisp white shirt, letting it fall to the floor. light’s fingers trace your spine as he kisses down your neck, lips hot and demanding. you sigh at the feeling, whispering his name as a quiet beg for more.

light’s lips move from your mouth to your neck, kissing a path down as he slips you out of your shorts, his hands moving quickly, but not without purpose. he’s in control, always, and now he’s showing L exactly that. he’s quick to bend down and pick you up, his large hands on your cheeks as he brings you to his bed. you let out a small squeal at the sudden movement and light chuckles against you. you squirm beneath him as his hips grind into yours, his hardness pressing against you through his pants, teasing you, driving you wild.

you snake one of your hands into his hair as he grinds his hips into yours. he continues to kiss you as he grows hard in his dress pants. his hands travel across your skin, eventually making their way to the clasp of your bra and slowly undoing it, along with your underwear. 

L's breath is barely audible as he leans closer to the screen. he can see the way light’s hands move, the way you respond to him. he’s trying to understand what’s happening here, but more than that—he’s trying to figure out if light knows he’s watching.

light, of course, gives nothing away. he’s careful, even now, maintaining that perfect facade. but you, on the other hand, are more raw, more vulnerable. your reactions aren’t as calculated, and that’s what makes it all the more exciting.

you reach for his belt, eager to even the playing field, but light’s hand catches yours, pushing you back against the mattress with a smirk. “not yet” he teases, his voice low and commanding. since becoming kira, his dominance has only grown, both in and out of the bedroom. before, he would let you take control sometimes, let you lead, but now? now he’s in charge, and there’s no mistaking it.

he undoes his belt himself, removing his pants and boxers in one fluid motion, and before you can catch your breath, he’s lining himself up with your entrance. there’s no warning, no slow buildup. light thrusts into you in one smooth, deliberate motion, and you cry out, the sudden stretch making your body arch into him. 

light’s fingers trail down your sides as he pulls your body flush with his. he sets a rhythm that’s both torturous and perfect. every movement, every sound, is a performance for l’s eyes, a show that light is directing with precision.

L leans closer to the monitor, his usually steady gaze darkening as he takes in every detail—the way light moves against you, the way your body reacts to his touch. it’s impossible for l to look away now, his curiosity mixing with something else, something he can’t quite define but doesn’t dare to acknowledge.

you bite your lip, trying to stifle your moans, aware of the thin walls of the yagami household. the last thing you want is to wake mrs. yagami or sayu. but light’s fingers are quick to tug your lip free, his touch slow and deliberate as he scolds you softly. “none of that” he scolds you. his eyes are dark, gleaming with something dangerous and thrilling. “be as loud as you want”. he encourages you, his voice a soft command and laced with amusement. 

L is unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. his eyes darkening as you writhe beneath light’s touch. he’s captivated, though he’ll never admit it, by the way light manipulates the situation, by the way the lines between pleasure and surveillance blur. he tells himself it’s all part of the investigation, but deep down, he knows there’s more to it.

a shiver runs down your spine, the thought of l hearing everything making your heart race even more. the thrill is undeniable, and light can sense it in the way your body tightens around him. his hand slips between your thighs, his thumb finding your sensitive clit. you jump at his touch and mewl at the feeling of stimulation. 

“there you go” light hums, his smirk widening as he admires your reaction. “that’s better”. 

he sets a punishing pace, every movement calculated to push you closer to your release. your body trembles beneath him, the tension building higher with each thrust, and you can’t hold back anymore. the moans you tried to stifle before spill from your lips freely now, filling the room with sounds of pleasure as light’s fingers work you expertly.

L's breath catches in his throat as he watches you come undone, his fingers tightening around the edge of the desk. deep down, he knows there’s more to it. light is toying with him, playing with the boundaries of power and control in ways l hadn’t anticipated.

“lighttt” you moan out. you can feel the coil inside you tightening, ready to snap. your cries echo through the room as light’s name spills from your lips. 

“nnghh” you draw you as your head tilts back and eyes flutter shut.. light’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, knowing that L is hearing every little sound you make, seeing how easily he can reduce you to this. he leans down, kissing along your neck, his pace never faltering.

“you like this, don’t you?” he whispers against your skin, his voice teasing, but there’s a sharp edge to it. “knowing he’s watching. knowing that you can’t hide how much you’re enjoying this”.

you squirm beneath him, your hands gripping at him as his words fuel you. he’s right—there’s a part of you that likes it, that enjoys the thought of someone watching, someone seeing the way light has you completely under his spell.

“you’re going to scream for me” he whispers, his voice low and commanding. “i want him to hear every second of this. he needs to know exactly how i make you feel”.

you can’t hold back. the coil inside you tightens as light’s movements quicken, his touch relentless. your legs shake and the sounds you’ve been holding back escape freely now, filling the room as light pushes you over the edge. you're completely at his mercy. 

light's pace quickens, his control faltering just slightly as his own pleasure builds, but his focus remains on you—on making sure you’re completely undone beneath him before he cums. his lips find yours again, swallowing your moans, and when he pulls back, his voice is dark with satisfaction.

“good girl. did so well for me” he says breathlessly. he pulls out of you and you immediately feel sleepy, cuddling into his chest as you catch your breath. as the afterglow settles in, you cuddle against light’s chest, your body exhausted and satisfied. he strokes your arm with his fingertips, a mischievous smile growing as he thinks of his situation. despite all his efforts, L still has nothing on him.

a/n: i just finished death note yesterday. this will be my personality for the foreseeable future

creds: @elryisia

[endless-ineffabilities]

In Your Modern World (a Chemical Override minishot)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: so this lil baby is set some time in part 5, around late August, when they were at the height of their initial relationship. Also, this references the bonus chapter In the Modern World. No taglist for surprise minishots - I hope this will find the chem ov readers in due time! <3

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan finally watch his music video. With some interruptions...

"So the concept to this is very straightforward. It's about Martin, and he's a recluse, an aimless youth of sorts, and..." Ewan's words come out in a nervous flurry as he places your laptop atop the duvet. "Do you remember what I told you about it? I mean... that was nearly two months ago, was it? But - "

You can't help but smile at his endearing ramble. "Baby," you say soothingly, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders. "I'm sure I'll love it."

He presses a soft kiss to your temple. "I haven't seen the final cut myself. I hope I did well."

"It's already the music video of the year," you say with a smirk, brushing your lips against the corner of his, "as long as you're in it."

His cheeks flush, the sight of it making your heart flutter. You can't resist leaning in to kiss him again. It's meant to be momentary, but his hand finds its way to the back of your head, keeping you in place so that the kiss deepens. His other hand snakes its way underneath your shirt - his shirt, oversized on your frame - kneading the flesh of your waist.

"Kissing was a bad idea," he rasps. "Now I don't wanna do anything else."

"Oh, oh!" you gasp and pull back when his hand starts to inch your shirt upward, "Hold on there, baby. Music video time."

He groans in protest, his forehead resting against yours, a teasing smile on his lips. "Alright, then. But the next time I kiss you, there'll be no interruptions."

"Fine," you roll your eyes. Then you reach out and press play on the video.

It opens with Ewan as Martin, black wig and all, brooding heavily as he scrutinises his slimey pet. You spot something in the background immediately. It's right there for viewers to see.

Before you can process it, the shot quickly cuts to another scene of him with a thin paintbrush in his hand, hunched over some figurine. Then another, and another... Martin in his room, going about his humdrum and aimless routine. You spot it - yourself - flashing in and out of the frame.

To your side, Ewan is silently chuckling at your surprised expression. Your lips are parted slightly, eyes squinting like you don't believe what you just saw. He waits for it, gazing at you fondly, forgetting all about his piece of work playing on the laptop.

You let your thoughts win over, hitting pause.

As if in slow motion, you turn to face him, the question practically bubbling from your lips. "Was that me?"

"What was that, darlin'?" He absently twirls a lock of your hair, trying - and failing - to keep a straight face.

You raise your eyebrows, challenging him with a look that says Really?

He laughs. "Yes, I asked to have a poster of Alyna Rivers on Martin's wall. Seemed fitting."

"Seemed... fitting?" you reply. "A grunge boy with a poster of a medieval fantasy character? How does that make sense?"

"Martin likes her," he shrugs, grinning mischievously, "What can I say?"

"Martin?" you tease. "Or Ewan Mitchell?"

"Martin likes you," he taps the tip of your nose, "But Ewan... is in love with you. Completely obsessed."

You shake your head, unable to fight the rush of pleasant warmth to your cheeks.

"There is a difference, darling," he clarifies in a husky whisper.

You glance back at the screen, where the video is paused on a shot of Martin sitting in the car.

"Well, he is pretty hot," you admit with a smirk. "All dirty and reckless."

"Hmm," he chews on his lip, "is he?"

Your hand moves to press play again, but his own darts out to stop you.

His voice is a low, seductive rumble. "Think you can fix him? Think you can fix poor Martin?"

Your lips stretch out in a sultry smile, eyes glinting at his playful instigation. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, giving in to the pull of distraction. The rest of the music video can wait; he's in it anyway, he's got some clue as to how it goes.

"I think I can, I think I can," you whisper humorously in that famous playground chanting, desire bleeding through your words.

"Lucky Martin," he breathes against your skin, "should I be jealous?"

Instead of answering, you lean forward, pressing your body flush against his and reclaiming his lips, remembering when he said that the next time you do, there will be no interruptions.

Martin can wait. Or he can watch, in the back of your minds, why the hell not?

You push the laptop aside, then climb on top of your boyfriend, straddling his thighs. He smirks openly, in pure satisfaction.

You ask, "Why don't we give him something to be jealous about?"

[ginnsbaker]

In Silent Screams (2/3)

Several weeks into her affair with Vision, the voice inside Wanda's head urging her to end things diminishes to faint murmurs, eventually fading away entirely.

Chapter word count: 8k+ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision Warnings: Smut (F/M), Cheating, Angst, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dubious Consent, Toxic Relationships

Notes: M rating this time. It gets spicier because what's between them is just pure lust. There will be a full smut scene that is a bit triggering given the context of how it happens, why it happens. I will mark it in red so you can skip it. Again, you will probably hate Wanda here more than the previous part, be warned.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

-

Part II

Comfort starts to creep in, wrapping around Wanda like a cozy blanket.

Several weeks into her affair with Vision, the voice inside Wanda's head urging her to end things diminishes to faint murmurs, eventually fading away entirely. And as she allows herself to indulge in the newness of his body and all the ways he is different and not what she’s used to, it becomes even more pleasurable (and addicting) for her when they come together. 

Wanda starts to think that maybe being with Vision like this doesn't take away from the love she has for you. It's almost as if she's compartmentalized herself—her relationship with you remains sacred, undisturbed by the dalliances that occupy her days. Vision has become a separate chapter, a deviation from the norm, but he's not taking the place of what she's built with you over time. Every night, regardless of how late it gets or how entangled she becomes in her meetings with Vision, she finds herself retracing her steps back to you. Her days begin with your face, and they end with your arms around her. There's a routine in that, a certainty she clings to.

Being with Vision helps her forget she's even in Westview. She's less haunted by the child she couldn't have with you, by the job she left behind for your sake. She dwells less on missing you, on feeling like she's become a secondary character in your life as you work tirelessly to provide for her. And isn't that what marriage truly is? More than the vows and the rings, it's about choosing the same person every day. It's about finding ways not to hold grudges, to keep the bond strong, to maintain a balance, right?

Her friendship with Vision, devoid of the usual societal filters, feels pure. They share, they debate, they laugh. But as the sun sets, Wanda always knows where she belongs. 

To you. 

-

“You’re kidding.”

Vision glances back at her over his shoulder, flashing a playful grin. They're in a park just outside of town, a result of those spontaneous drives they occasionally take. They've found a quiet corner, a place where they can be with each other, away from the rules of their complicated lives. Him being her student makes everything that much more delicate.

“Why would I joke about something like that?” he says, looking pleased with himself.

Wanda puts down the essay she’s reviewing and leans back on the picnic blanket, shielding her eyes from the sun. “You seriously want to buy art from the gallery?”

He shrugs, “I like what they showcase. Plus, I thought... well, it might be a good opportunity for you to earn a commission.”

It’s a weak argument and they both know it. She smirks, “Trying to impress someone?”

Vision pauses, taking a deep breath, serious as he says, “Maybe.”

Wanda sighs, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. “Vision, we need to be careful.”

“Careful? Wanda, we're miles away from Westview. I'd say we're being pretty meticulous about this.” He smirks, pointing to the tall trees that shield them from any possible onlookers. “With all these trees and not a bird in sight, we could even fuck right here in the open if we wanted to.”

Wanda fixes him with a sharp gaze, one that immediately conveys her disapproval. Immediately, the smirk fades from his lips, replaced by  a realization that he might have gone too far with his teasing. He reads the message in her eyes loud and clear. Not only is his suggestion off the table, but he also senses that he may have jeopardized his luck in the coming days.

“I… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, going back to his sketchpad. They don’t speak to each other for a while. Wanda is deeply engrossed in the essays she has to review, already behind the deadline she set for herself, while Vision gives her space to cool down from his mistake. Their arguments are always brief but intense, and lately, they haven't been leading to sex as often as Vision would prefer.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Vision starts, “How is it, being with Y/N? Being married, I mean.”

Wanda stiffens at the mention of your name. She's never discussed you with Vision, and a surge of panic begins to rise within her. She hides her reaction by neatly rearranging the papers alphabetically in front of her. 

“I told you she’s off limits,” she answers a moment later.

Vision feigns surprise, tilting his head slightly. “Ah, my apologies. I meant no disrespect,” he says, his voice carefully neutral.

Wanda purses her lips, her posture tensing further. “Just... let's not go there.”

Vision nods, though he can't help but steal a quick glance at the wedding ring on her finger. It taunts him everytime he sees it, reminding him of the life she shares with someone else—a life he often finds himself yearning to be a part of. He's been daydreaming about a different reality, where Wanda is by his side not on borrowed time, where he is the one she turns to at the end of a long day.

He's persuaded her to share her thoughts with him, to spread her legs for him; how much more challenging could it be to win her heart next? He'll take it one day at a time if he has to. Patience is something he doesn't mind exercising.

Cleverly masking his intentions behind a facade of casual curiosity, Vision continues, “Hypothetically speaking, if you were to give insights on marriage, just in general...What are your thoughts?” He leans back, making the conversation seem casual, though every word is carefully calculated.

She glances at him, slightly suspicious but not fully alarmed. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Oh, you know," Vision waves his hand dismissively. “It's just something that's been on my mind lately. As a concept, I mean.”

Wanda narrows her eyes slightly, studying him. She knows Vision well enough to understand that behind his seemingly innocent inquiries, there's often an ulterior motive. But she also knows that he's persistent, and sometimes, the best way to deal with him is to play along, to a point.

“It’s…” Wanda finds herself grappling for an answer. She hadn’t expected that the answer would be much more complex now given recent events. She used to look at it in an idealized way, where marriage is what happens at the end of an epic love story, the banner over the path that the two main characters continue their journey on; the natural conclusion when people say 'happily ever after'.

Perhaps she's been wrong to view it that way all along. Perhaps marriage is just a tool to peel back the facade meticulously crafted during dating, for nothing remains hidden in marriage. To enforce a commitment that's always existed. To harness the rights it bestows between two individuals. To—

Wanda can list countless facets of marriage, and yet it wouldn’t change the way she feels about you, with or without it. She can change—she has, and marriage can vanish from the world, her love for you would persist unscathed. While every fiber of her being might be judged for her actions, she believes her love can’t be tainted. She’s sure of it. And so, essentially, marriage is—

“...it’s an indemnity.”

It’s not at all what he assumed she’d say. “An indemnity? That's an... interesting choice of word.”

Wanda nods, pushing a stray hair behind her ear with a thoughtful look. “Right. It's like our safety net, not just from what's out there but from our own doubts too. It's us saying to ourselves—and to anyone watching—that no matter how tough things get, we're in it together.  It's a promise that even in the darkest times, we'll stand by each other.”

Vision absorbs her words, trying to see the cracks, the spaces where he could insert doubt or lay the groundwork for his plans. “But don’t you think,” he ventures cautiously, “that sometimes, that very protection, that indemnity, becomes the chain that binds? Don’t you ever feel... trapped?”

Wanda takes a deep breath, sensing the subtext of his question. He has a knack for drawing out the very things she's trying so hard to keep from him. In the end, she still ends up talking about you. If he's truly eager to hear what she has to say about you, then Wanda doesn’t care if he won’t like what he hears.

“I know what you’re trying to do here,” Wanda says with a wry smile. “To assume she's the one trapping me would be a gross misunderstanding.”

He laughs for a long moment. It's loud and over the top, and somewhere in the midst of it, it begins to feel like an insult. Wanda lifts her chin, unfazed by his antics.

After a few moments, Vision's laughter subsides, replaced by a somber look. “I apologize,” he says, even as Wanda goes back to her readings. “I didn’t mean to make light of your feelings. It's just... sometimes I feel like you're still lying to yourself, Wanda.”

Wanda's eyes narrow, her stance firm, but she doesn't rise to the bait immediately.  “How am I lying?”

There it is—his opening.

“Yes. Sometimes, I wonder if you're using these philosophical explanations as a way to protect yourself from confronting something deeper. Something you might not want to face,” he says.

She chuckles, but it's devoid of any real amusement. “And what might that be?”

“That maybe,” Vision says, crawling closer to her until they're just a breath away. “Maybe being with her isn't everything you once believed it to be.”

A retort forms on Wanda's lips, ready to be unleashed. But as she looks into Vision's eyes, she notices something genuine and disarming in them. 

“All I’m saying is that you don’t need to defend yourself around me,” he murmurs, his voice gentle, fingers lightly grazing her cheek. “You don't need to explain yourself. Not about this, not about anything.”

His lips find the curve of her neck, placing a chaste kiss there, sending a shiver down her spine, making her sigh softly. 

“You can enjoy that,” he whispers against her skin, voice husky. His lips move upward, caressing her cheek before they meet hers. His hand slides to her waist, pulling her closer, until she’s on his lap, straddling him. Her skirt rides up her thighs, allowing him easy access to her dampening underwear.

Wanda shifts nervously. “Vision, we're in public,” she whispers sharply, but doesn’t make any move to get away from him.

His lips twitch into a confident smirk. “I know.” His fingers daringly slide beneath the hem of her skirt, edging towards her panties. “Don't worry,” he assures her, “I just wanted to see if your body tells the truth, even if your words might not.”

Her breath catches as his fingers find the growing wetness there. “See?” he murmurs, his mouth twisting into a boyish grin. “Your body doesn't lie.”

She enjoys it. To be brutally honest, without the haunting thought of your reaction if you were to find out, she concedes she savors their meetings. She’s attracted to him and it’s consuming her every thought. 

Wanda blushes furiously, coupled with the fear of being discovered like this, she’s surrendered to this wicked game. He doesn’t worship her like you do. He doesn’t try to make her feel like nothing is her fault the way you do. Why weren’t you disappointed that she couldn’t get pregnant? Couldn’t contribute to your household like equals? Why didn’t you agonize over the financial repercussions of her relentless quest to start a family with you?

Why won’t you ever, ever hate her?

It's twisted that she even thinks of you as she tilts her hips upwards, urging Vision to touch her just right.

Without warning, Vision plunges his long middle finger inside her, causing Wanda to gasp and grip onto him. The intimate intrusion is brief, and she barely has time to process the sensation when he withdraws, pushing her off his lap and onto the soft grass beside him. He holds his glistening finger up to the light, then brings it to his lips, never breaking eye contact with her. She watches, entranced, as he deliberately savors her taste.

Wanda’s chest rises and falls rapidly, every nerve in her body alive and buzzing. She feels exposed, laid bare both by his actions and by the force of her own arousal. There's a delicious humiliation in it, a thrill of being seen and wanted so openly.

But before she can get a chance to speak, Vision reaches into his pocket, producing an envelope thick with cash and hands it to her. She doesn't need to count it to know it's a significant amount.

“What the fuck is this?” Wanda asks, looking down at the cash in her hands.

He laughs again. He enjoys riling her up. Makes this all the more charged and exciting.

“It's for the painting from your old gallery,” Vision explains calmly. “Going back to that, yes, I want to purchase it. And that’s just 50% of my intended offer.”

Wanda reflects on all the support you've offered her, the financial aid you generously extended without ever demanding explanations. A portion of the money in the envelope—her future commission— could be a start, a way to repay some of the debts she owes you, even if it doesn't cover everything.

Not that you’ve ever asked her to pay you back. You’ve never once hinted at any imbalance in financial obligations in your relationship.

“I shouldn't take this,” she mumbles, yet her fingers clutch the envelope a little tighter.

“I want to,” he insists. “Although, I want a special request.”

Wanda's eyebrow arches in skepticism. “Which is?”

“A handwritten dedication from you, when the painting is delivered,” he replies.

She averts her gaze. “I’ll think about it.”

Vision nods. “Keep the money while you do.”

-

Wanda starts leaving the house early too, going to her lover’s apartment before they go to the university together.

Vision sits comfortably on the plush couch, engrossed in his video game, his fingers swiftly moving over the controller. Wanda enters, shrugging off her light jacket, her simple, functional underwear visible from the thin material of her dress.

“You know, Wanda,” he begins casually, “Have you ever considered just... being in your natural state here?”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks, helping herself to some tea.

“Your body is a work of art,” he replies, pausing the game now and turning to face her fully. “And as someone who appreciates art...” His gaze travels to her current choice of undergarments and back up to her eyes, leaving his sentence hanging.

“Are you suggesting I walk around here naked?”

He grins cheekily. “The thought did cross my mind.”

Wanda's cheeks flush. “That’s not happening.”

“Alright, maybe not that,” he relents with a mock sigh. “But perhaps wear something more... refined? Exquisite?” His emphasis on 'exquisite' draws a clear line between what she currently wears and what he's suggesting. 

She's always prided herself on being confident, knowing her worth. But Vision’s playful, yet sharp suggestion chips away at her armor just a bit. For a split second, she wonders if this is how he truly sees her. If her choice of underwear, something so personal and intimate, is a reflection of her self-worth in his eyes. It's crazy to let his comment get to her; she's aware of that. But she can't help but think of you, of the intimate times you both share, the mornings she finds herself waking up beside you, and the nights you take off her clothes.

Do you notice? She wonders. Do you think the same?

It's all these tiny moments, insignificant on their own, but together they build a narrative in her mind. A story where maybe you don't desire her as you once did. That thought affects her more than Vision's words. The insecurity, an old nemesis she thought she had left far behind, resurfaces.

Wanda forces a nonchalant smile. “Why don't you mind your own business, and focus on your own wardrobe choices?” she retorts, but there's a lack of her usual sharpness in her tone.

He snickers, going back to his game. She hopes you don't see her the way he does. 

-

She buys a new set of lingerie—for you.

-

Wanda decides she’ll do it by the end of the week. Determined to finalize the sale, she picks up the phone while dinner simmers on the stove. With you still out, Sparky remains her only companion, and a pang of guilt strikes her for having neglected him lately.

She dials the gallery. After a few rings, the familiar voice perkily answers. “Hello?”

“Agatha, it's Wanda,” she says. “About the painting I texted you earlier. My buyer is all in.”

“There's already a bid on it,” Agatha interrupts, “with a deposit ready to go. But if you can secure the painting by tomorrow at the latest, it’s yours to sell.”

“Thanks. I'll make it happen.”

Only after hanging up does she understand that she'll need your help to ensure everything goes smoothly. The next morning, she broaches the subject, and, thankfully, doesn’t have to jump through many hoops to convince you. She loathes bending the truth about the gallery's closing hours, but she's pressed to secure the painting promptly.

Of course, you're there for her again. You even go as far as to offer her lunch, but she has to decline; she genuinely has an appointment with the dean. She reluctantly agrees to dinner, already having said yes to Vision to visit the Museum of Modern Art, where he's also set to give her the remaining 50% for the painting.

“We can have dinner,” Wanda proposes tentatively. “Maybe drive to the city for some steaks and a dive bar after?” It’s tiring to drive back and forth like Manhattan isn’t at least one and a half hours away without traffic, but she wants to spend time with you, and thank you for your effort.

“I'll pick you up at seven,” you say. “It's a date.”

She's excited, but deep down she's aware of the tight schedule. It would be nothing short of a miracle if Vision gets her back to Westview on time.

-

Wanda cancels dinner at the last minute. She's relieved that you're amenable and just texts to ask her what time she’ll be home.

-

When she gets her hands on the painting, it takes her a long time to think of a dedication message. Truthfully, writing heartfelt letters has never been her strong suit; she struggles to articulate her feelings. But as she contemplates her feelings for Vision, she draws a blank.  She considers simply thanking him for engaging her in conversations she hasn't had with anyone in so long, conveniently omitting their other indulgences. At the same time, she doesn’t want to leave a piece of herself behind, not even something as trivial as a personal dedication.

So she settles on a quote:

‘To Vision, the only secret people keep is immortality.’  - W

On a particular plane, it speaks to her. It's a phrase that mirrors the fundamental human longing for significance and a sense of purpose—something she has unknowingly let slip along the way.

-

Surprisingly, Vision appears content with the note. Wanda doesn't bother to inquire about his thoughts on it. He doesn't make a spectacle of his appreciation for the painting either, and it becomes apparent that he's indulging in a fantasy from some porno, where an older woman brings him something before he takes her to bed.

The sex is always intoxicating in its own messy way, now that she’s ready to admit she’s not after perfection whenever she comes to him. She doesn’t go to him because there’s something wrong with you. It might be because something is wrong with her, but there isn’t really any room to psychoanalyze her own mental state when she’s being taken from behind, facing a full length mirror. As pleasure builds, her eyes roll back, she briefly toys with the idea that she might be harboring deeper feelings for him. 

Then, out of the blue, a red flash catches her eye, but with two quick blinks, it vanishes.

“What’s that?” Wanda whispers, momentarily distracted before a moan escapes her lips.

“What?” he mutters distractedly, pulling her hair, when her head starts to droop. 

But before Wanda can form a coherent thought, he adjusts, lifting one of her legs and shifting his angle. With a few deliberate thrusts, she's spiraling into an overwhelming climax. And as pleasure washes over her, any lingering thoughts of deeper feelings for him evaporates along with the haze of lust.

Later, she would brush aside the memory of that brief red flash as she stealthily slipped into your shared home, careful not to disturb Sparky, who slept soundly. With a day off scheduled for tomorrow, she had completely lost track of time, fooling around a couple more times with a college kid.

-

“D-Did I hurt you?”

Right this second, Wanda feels like she'd welcome the ground opening up to take her or a random bullet finding its mark in her heart. Anything, if it would end her anguish. 

She watches your face crumple with guilt and hurt, and she can't believe she's caused you to feel this way when you’re just aching for her. 

Without missing a beat, Wanda draws you into an embrace, feeling your heart race against her chest. “No, you didn’t. I shouldn’t have made you feel that way,” she whispers. The mere thought of you second-guessing your intentions with her shatters her heart.

You lean into her completely, feeling like a child in her arms. “I’ve been missing you so much lately, and I thought... I thought we were on the same page.”

Wanda insists it's not your fault. None of this is your fault. She desires closeness with you, but she hadn't expected it to make her feel so uneasy beneath her skin, especially considering she had been touched by another less than 24 hours ago. She has to remind herself that you aren't aware. But she knows, and it plagues her mind, why you’d want to touch her.

Your reply, soaked in typical selflessness, is, “I know. I’m sorry.” 

Your apology, the earnestness in your tone is starting to make her feel dizzy. The fact that you feel this way, that she has led you to question your privilege—something she has always granted you—to touch her, is agonizing.

“Stop saying you're sorry,” Wanda snaps, her words sharper than she intends, fervently hoping that you understand her outburst isn't aimed at you. “You do everything right. It's me. I've missed you too, more than you can possibly imagine.”

When you softly say, “I love you,” it's filled with so much emotion that it brings tears to Wanda's eyes. It takes her too long to respond with an “I love you, too,” because there’s many more she wants to say. And she can’t say it without revealing the one thing that she fears will drive you away. 

She can only hope that you believe her because she means it more than anything.

-

Wanda can't pinpoint exactly when she developed the habit of locking the bathroom door. It likely started around the time Vision would text her, innocently asking about her lectures. Then, one day, she received a short video clip of him pleasuring himself and moaning her name. She promptly deleted the clip, but from that point on, she learned to check her messages at home only when she was about to step into the shower.

-

Natasha visits and something inside Wanda unfurls itself. She becomes hyper-aware of her activities with Vision, how she conducts them and where. Before relocating to New Jersey, you mentioned that Natasha had taken an open-ended break from her job, suggesting she might be ready to leave her old life behind. Still, she’s uneasy when she learns about it too late, and Natasha’s already outside, waiting to be let into the house.

You're still in your office attire, donning a pristine suit that would have captured her attention for the entire evening, if not for the fact that she's on the verge of breaking down at the mere thought of you discovering her affair with Vision.

“Why didn't you tell me she was coming?” she snaps, gesturing at the dinner table set for two and the disorderly state of their living room. Her eyes dart to a stack of her students' reaction papers lying exposed on the coffee table, and the unkempt pillows. To you, it might seem trivial, but to Wanda, every small detail could give away something she'd rather keep private.

“You could've at least warned me,” she continues, her tone reflecting more than just her concerns about dinner and the state of the living room, but you fail to catch it. You try to help, reaching out to straighten the living room, but she's too frazzled. Seeing the frustrated look on your face, she can't help but feel cornered. She hastily scatters the pillows about, her movement nothing short of hysterical. 

Sensing that things might take a worse turn than they should, you make the decision to be the one to step back.

“If it's too much trouble for you, we can just grab dinner elsewhere,” you suggest, struggling not to lose your own patience. 

She can't help but throw you a sharp look, feeling as though your words only made things worse. The mere idea of you and Natasha, alone, maybe sharing stories or opinions about her, feels threatening. But there’s nothing she can do but hope you will veer away from talking about her, that you won’t confide in Natasha how you haven’t had sex in months.

“Fine,” she snaps and quickly retreats up the stairs. “Send my regards to Natasha,” she throws over her shoulder, the guest bedroom door shutting loudly behind her.

She sighs heavily, pressing her back to the door, heart racing. From the window, she sees you walk back to the car, your frustration evident in every step. Natasha looks at you with that questioning glance Wanda knows all too well. She watches as you speak before handing Natasha the car keys.

She gazes up at the ceiling, determined to hold back the tears that are on the verge of spilling. She doesn't want to push you away, but her fear of Natasha, and what might be revealed, leaves her feeling trapped.

-

Out of frustration, she calls Vision, and they meet in his car, about two blocks from their house.

In the cramped confines of the backseat, Vision is quick to slide into her, the condom barely in place before he's thrusting with a fervor.

She peaks once, but not from him being inside her. She's too tense, too tightly wound for that. So Vision, realizing this, drops to his knees to truly bring her over the edge.

-

Later, Wanda lies on her side, every muscle tense, acutely aware of the presence beside her, all the while pretending to be deep in sleep.

“She used to crash at our place almost every week,” you murmur into the stillness.

A hint of irritation passes through Wanda, though she can't really tell why. “What?” she asks, her voice low and weary.

“Natasha,” you specify. “I didn't think to mention it because it was just our norm. She'd drop by unannounced all the time.”

You want to have a conversation about it, to work through this issue. She knows how you’ve been trying to give her space, thinking she hasn’t adjusted yet to life in Westview. You’re always thinking about her. Always putting her needs first above yours.

And Wanda can see how it’s worn you down, how you're starting to doubt your own logical reasoning, and how you're piecing together facts to present your case, hoping for her to be more receptive and listen. She despises the fact that she's putting you through all of this, merely because she's determined to prevent her different worlds from colliding.

She can sense you searching her face, looking for answers, trying to understand the wall she’s erected between you too. It’s so tall now, casting a shadow over both of you. 

“Wands?”

“Baby?” you try again. It seems like it's all you ever do these days. “Please?” 

Wanda resists the urge to turn toward you and pull you into her arms. She knows that if she does, the tears will flow uncontrollably, and she understands that you won't let her keep her troubles to herself. She composes herself, letting out a shuddering sigh.

“We're fine, Y/N. Let's just go to sleep.”

You give into her wishes, because you will always give her what she wants.  She extends her hand, delicately interlocking your fingers with hers. It's the smallest gesture she can manage. She pretends not to hear you, feel you shake, as you cry on your own.

-

She'd planned to watch the movie alone, in the middle of the day. So, when Vision discreetly takes the seat next to her, Wanda stiffens. A few others are scattered in the front rows of the dark theater, chatting softly as they munch on popcorn.

Without turning to face him, she whispers accusingly, “Are you stalking me?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd catch a movie. Pure coincidence.”

“You hate cinemas,” she counters.

He chuckles softly. “Maybe I'm learning to appreciate them.”

​​She’s about to retort when she feels a gentle touch on her hip. Wanda's muscles tense under his soft fingers as they start tracing the curve of her waist, moving slowly downwards, caressing her thigh. Her breath hitches, and she turns sharply to face him.

“What are you doing?”

Vision just smirks, leaning back in his seat. “Thought you might want to spice up the afternoon.”

Wanda rolls her eyes. “I'm not in the mood, Vision. Hands off.”

His laugh is a bit too loud, drawing “shhhs” and glares from the front row. Seeing him unmoved by the stares, Wanda huffs and stands up, making it clear she's moving seats. As she shimmies past him, Vision's hand snakes out, gripping her wrist. “Stay,” he murmurs, eyes serious. “I promise to behave.”

She hesitates, looking at him skeptically. Finally, with a sigh, she slides back into her seat. For the most part, Vision keeps his promise. They sit in silence, engrossed in the movie, but Wanda can't help but notice Vision's restlessness. Twice, he excuses himself, claiming he needs the restroom. She can't help but wonder what he's really up to, but she refrains from asking. Whatever it is, she's not sure she wants to know.

Later, when they step out of the theater, they're greeted by the aftermath of a rainstorm. Puddles dot the pavement, making it tricky for Wanda in her heels. Vision holds out his hand, and she takes it, especially when she almost trips trying to leap over a particularly large puddle. 

For some reason, she suddenly feels like she's being watched. From the corner of her eye, she spots the black SUV, parked in the same spot as when she arrived at the cinema. But before she can give it more thought, Vision pulls her towards a bookstore, quickly diverting her attention. She brushes off the odd sensation, attributing it to anxiety since the theater she picked is quite far from town.

-

Wanda stares, open mouthed and shocked, as Vision shows her his final project for her course.

It's a charcoal drawing on canvas featuring a nude woman, with only her mouth visible, reclining on a bench. Wanda doesn't need a second glance to realize that the woman in the painting is her. From the curve of her jaw to the birthmark on her left hip and down to the fold of her knees, the resemblance is remarkable. 

There's no way she can allow him to submit this.

His audacity to draw her in such an intimate manner without her consent leaves her momentarily speechless. She briefly wonders what other liberties he’s taken without her permission.

“What the hell is this?” Wanda questions in barely contained rage.

Vision smirks, arrogance dripping from every word. “It's you, obviously. Pretty accurate, don't you think?”

She clenches her fists, anger rising. “You had absolutely no right. This is beyond inappropriate. What were you thinking?”

Leaning against the table, he shrugs nonchalantly. “I was thinking about how hot you were and I wanted to immortalize it.”

She frowns, crossing her arms defensively. “This was private, between us. How could you think it's okay to make it public?”

“I thought you liked when I took control,” he says, stepping closer, his voice dripping with insinuation.

Wanda feels like throwing up. “This isn't a game,” she snaps. “You can't just use our personal moments as fodder for your projects!”

“You never seemed to mind before.”

Wanda replies sharply, “There's a difference between us being together in private and you broadcasting it to the world.”

He squares his shoulders, firming up his stance. “Maybe I wanted them to see.”

“To see what exactly?” Wanda yells, but the fear in her voice is unmistakable. 

“How good we are together,” he says. “Maybe I’m tired of hiding, Wanda. Ever thought of that?”

Wanda's mind races, a thousand thoughts crashing into one another. She's always been able to control the narrative, always had the situation in her grip. But now, Vision's defiance, his blatant challenge, terrifies her. The realization that Vision could, and possibly would, spill their secret terrifies her more than she thought possible. For the first time, she's faced with the real possibility of losing everything she holds dear. Of losing you.

“So, what's it going to be, Professor?” Vision challenges, towering over her in a display of intimidation. “Should I submit this, or maybe...” his voice drops to a whisper, “show it to your wife?”

She grits her teeth, trying to gain some semblance of control. “Destroy it. Now.”

Vision grins, leaning in closer until their faces are inches apart. “Make me.”

“Vis—”

Vision's lips crush down on hers in a fierce, demanding kiss. His hand clamps around the back of her neck, holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. It’s fervent, consuming, and fueled by a hunger she hasn't felt from him before. Her brain screams at her to resist, to push him away, to regain control of this spiraling situation. She shoves at his chest, her nails digging in, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he deepens the kiss, his tongue demanding entry, which she denies him.

In her mounting frustration, she raises her hand and slaps him hard across the face. Vision barely flinches, his gaze never leaving hers. His determination only fans the flames of her anger further, but beneath it all simmers an irrefutable want. Without a word, Vision's hands descend to her waist, deftly unbuttoning and pushing down her pants and off her legs. She makes quick work of his belt, discarding them recklessly to the side.

As he inches closer, his breath hot on her ear, Vision murmurs, “Say it, Wanda… say 'I want you to fuck me’.”

She can feel the solid length of him pressing against her, and despite her anger, the way he slowly gyrates his hips makes her weak. She draws a shaky breath, the words stuck in her throat. It’s wrong, and he shouldn’t have this much power on her. 

He moves in, his lips trailing down her neck, as his hands find their way around her waist, pulling her in even closer. “Say it,” he murmurs again.

“I want you to... fuck me,” she finally breathes out, her voice breaking into a whiny plea that she would never have believed she could utter, especially under these circumstances. 

His response is immediate. Before she can fully register what's happening, he has her lifted, her back pressed against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist. With a sharp thrust, he's inside her, filling her completely. While Vision usually found his release before she did, this time was different. She notices he's holding back, which confuses her. Why would he? Especially now. Wanda, lost in the sensation of him inside her, is curious but also a little apprehensive. 

She soon realizes why. His fingers find her clit, rubbing it in a rough, almost painful manner that sends shockwaves of pleasure through her. “Come on,” he urges, almost impatiently, his voice strained.

She feels herself spiraling, the coil inside her tightening. His cock angles and adjusts, targeting her sweet spot, making her clench around him. The slickness between them grows, and his fingers work in tandem with his thrusts, pressing, rubbing, coaxing her closer and closer.

“I'm gonna... I'm coming,” she warns, feeling the walls of her pussy fluttering.

And then she feels it—the unmistakable warmth, the pulsing. Her eyes widen in realization as Vision buries himself deeper, releasing inside her. 

“No!” Wanda screams silently, the sounds failing to escape her throat as the knowledge that he's come unprotected pushes her further into her own climax. Her instinct is to flee, to pull away from him, but Vision's grip is ironclad. He feels her panic and responds with more pressure on her clit, manipulating the nub with determined fingers. Each stroke sends her further into ecstasy, locking her in place as his other arm wraps around her waist, preventing any escape.

“Stay,” he murmurs into her ear, his voice filled with a possessiveness that she's never heard before. As he continues to spurt inside her, their hips still weakly grinding against one another, the reality of the situation dawns on her. He didn't use protection. He could—he could get her—

Terror claws at Wanda's insides. Was this all premeditated? Had he planned to trap her like this? She struggles to pull away, but Vision holds her even tighter, keeping her pressed against him as the last of his release fills her. He languidly rests his forehead against Wanda's shoulder, taking a moment to revel in the afterglow. When he finally dares to look at her, he expects to see anger or fury or maybe even forgiveness. Instead, he's met with wide, bloodshot eyes swimming with tears that violently spill over, tracing the contours of her cheeks.

His smugness dissipates and his brow furrows in confusion. “Wanda?”

She chokes on her tears, desperately trying to speak. “Did you—did you do this on purpose?” Using every ounce of strength she can summon, she pushes him away, stumbling slightly as her legs threaten to give out. Hastily, she starts grabbing her clothes.

Vision, looking lost for once, reaches out, but she recoils away from his touch.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

“Wanda, please. Let's talk about this.”

As Wanda attempts to regain her balance, she can feel the telltale wetness slide down her inner thighs. The physical evidence of their tryst, the proof of Vision's seed making its way out of her, sends a sharp pang of revulsion through her. Her hand moves instinctively, trying to wipe away the residue, a feeble attempt to erase the aftermath—or perhaps the entirety of their history. Her vision blurs as tears continue to stream down her face, her breathing jagged. Vision, looking both remorseful and lost, reaches out in an attempt to console her, but she flinches at the barest contact of his fingertips.

“Please, at least let me drive you to—”

“To where?” she spits out, her voice mocking. “Home? To my...? I can't—not now.”

Vision's eyes widen, and suddenly he looks much younger.

“Wanda,” he starts, voice shaky and eyes beginning to tear up, “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... I didn't think… I-It’ll never happen again.”

But the pitiable sight of him, looking scared and unsure, only adds fuel to the fire. “You think a simple 'sorry' is enough?”

The door is her escape, and she's quick to reach it. As she’s about to leave, he whimpers, almost begging, “Please don't go. I... I'm sorry.”

But she's done. With one final, withering glance, she exits, leaving the door to swing shut behind her. 

-

While Wanda waits for her period to come, she can't focus on anything else. She feels disoriented during the day, and it keeps her awake at night. 

In her world, everything's spiraling into a fragmented mess, like a vintage vinyl record that's been smashed to bits. 

She tosses out reading assignments like candy at a twisted parade, tells the kids to scribble down essays. For them, it's almost like a holiday. For Wanda, it's a desperate lifeline. By the window, she stands. Watching. Waiting. But not really seeing anything. Vision's eyes, burning into her, but she never meets his gaze. She hasn't been responding to his texts or calls, discarding them immediately without even opening them. The classroom exit strategy is always the same: blend in with the herd, avoid the predator. She doesn't give him even the slightest opportunity to get her alone.

Home should be her fortress. Instead, it's like quicksand. Sparky, always eager for her attention, brings toys to her feet, his tail wagging in hopeful anticipation. But her patience is thin, and she finds herself shooing him outside, much to the dog's confusion. She's been bringing home takeout repeatedly, and the repetition isn't lost on you. While you never openly complain, she notices when you start to take the reins, cooking dinner, a quiet acknowledgment of her current state.

She waits and waits—a ghost haunting a lover, a home, a school, a town, waiting for salvation.

-

She’s more than a week late for her period when she (terrifyingly) decides to buy a pregnancy test kit. Wanda clutches her coat tighter around herself, hesitating for a moment before pushing the door open. Inside, she avoids making eye contact, moving purposefully towards the aisle she's dreading. As her fingers wrap around a pregnancy test kit, her heart hammers in her chest. With the box safely tucked inside her bag, she hurries back home, sneaking glances over her shoulder, feeling as though the world knows her secret.

When she arrives home, she pretends as if she had simply stopped by the grocery store. She musters a smile as she begins to prepare dinner, maintaining a light and cheerful conversation with you. You savor her food as if it were your last meal, showering her with compliments like a discerning food critic, which brings a slight chuckle from Wanda. You peck her lips when you’re finished, thanking her for it. For a while, it seems like everything is back to normal, and that nothing will shatter the illusion that she’s still living her happily-ever-after with you.

She waits, counting the minutes, ensuring you're deep in sleep before she tiptoes into the bathroom. She reads the instructions multiple times, her eyes scanning over each word as if hoping they'd change. It's as though she hasn’t been through this ritual numerous times before, back when her deepest desire was to bear your child. The irony isn't lost on her: in just a few months, she's transitioned from yearning for a baby to fervently hoping she isn't pregnant.

Finally gathering enough courage, she rips the packaging. Just get it over with, Wanda muses. The minutes that follow feel like hours. The silence is suffocating, the potential consequences bearing down on her. She jumps at the slightest noise, every creak of the floorboards or rustle of sheets convincing her that you've woken up.

The alarm on her phone finally goes off, signaling that it's time. With bated breath, she looks down at the test, her world teetering on the brink of change.

-

She’s hidden the pregnancy test deep in the trash bin, concealed under tissues and other refuse. It’s the middle of the night, and she ensured it is further out of sight by taking the trash outside.

As the initial relief floods through her, it is swiftly replaced by a profound sense of shame. She sits curled up on the couch, hugging her knees, desperately wishing to escape from herself and her crimes. She realizes, with a piercing clarity, that she can't compartmentalize or keep secrets when it comes to you, because you're not just a part of her life—you are her life. The mere thought of you finding out fills her with a terror so profound, she's left gasping for breath. She'd rather face any consequence, even death, than watch the love fade from your eyes, replaced by hurt, anger, and betrayal.

She loves you, but Wanda doesn’t—she doesn’t know what to do, how to move forward. 

But in the midst of her life falling apart, an unexpected sentiment finds its way to the forefront: hope. 

A fragile, quivering kind of hope. Wanda's lips twitch, trembling as they pull into a weak smile. Maybe the universe is giving her a second chance. Maybe her not being pregnant is a sign, a way out. It's as if fate is holding out a lifeline, imploring her to take it and mend the fractures in her life. With renewed determination, she silently promises herself that she'll devote every bit of her being to you. She knows she can't change the past, but she believes, fervently, in the possibility of a future where she remains true, where she will never stray again.

Still, the weight of her deeds anchors her to the couch, each sob a violent reminder that she's the villain in her own story. And that’s how you find her, in the dark living room, crying and blaming a nonexistent movie for being in such a mess.

“Wanda?”

She looks up and every cell in her body threatens to crumble. “Hey, baby,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing away the tears.

“Have you been crying?”

“Just a movie,” she lies still, “You know how emotional they make me.”

You smile, your eyes full of that nurturing love. “My big crybaby.” Wanda can't believe a pregnancy scare was what it took to finally wake her up.

Looking into your eyes, a surge of need overtakes her. She longs to claim you, to solidify her stake, and leave no doubt in your mind about where her heart truly lies. She wants to show you just how much she loves you, to make up for all the times she has strayed. 

She doesn't hesitate. Before she fully processes her actions, she's on top of you, her weight pinning you down, her eyes blazing with an intensity that threatens to consume. “Take off your shorts,” her voice trembles. Your obedient response sends a thrill through her, but she's barely registered the progress you've made before she's swiping a teasing finger, tasting the essence that's uniquely yours. She watches, entranced, as a shiver runs through you, your voice shaky with desire. 

“Patience, baby.” 

She barely shakes her head, lips parted. “Don't have any.”

And then she's tasting you, each slow, deliberate stroke of her tongue designed to drive both of you mad. Your body responds fervently, and she can sense your need building, mirroring her own desperate longing. “Please, Wanda, more…” Your whisper is a plea she can't resist. Her lips part to take in more of you, savoring the intoxicating flavor that she had missed so much. 

“I've missed you so much, Y/N,” she says, deliriously lost in your pleasure. “I've missed making you feel good. Missed feeling this way with you…” She doesn't quite realize the hints she's dropping, but she doesn't care. This moment is real, and she wants it to be as honest as it can be.

Lifting your legs, Wanda applies gentle pressure, pushing them back until they're almost touching the couch cushions on either side of your head. The sight of you, so openly displayed for Wanda, sends a rush of heat and desire through her core. She can feel the power she has, not just from the position but from the trust placed in her to have you in such a vulnerable state. It feels so good, being this close to you. How could she have ever desired anything else when she had this all along?

Wanda pauses for a moment, mouth watering, her eyes hungrily tracing the sight before her. She senses a slight shift, seeing your eyes flit away, perhaps overwhelmed. But Wanda can't allow that retreat. Gently cradling your face, she guides those eyes she loves back, sealing their return home to her with a tender, grounding kiss.

“I love you,” she breathes against your lips.

You smile up at her. “I love you. More than you could ever know.”

Wanda shuts her eyes, letting your reassurance wash over her. Nothing lasts forever, but perhaps this could be an exception.

[an-angelstears]

this is real, not acting ...

fate . you and your co-star, satoru gojo, start to feel something real ... and NOT for a movie !

the demon (warnings/contents) . [ part 1 , sfw ]

the angel (pairings) . satoru gojo x gn!reader

you were a famous actress/actor, mainly starring in horror or action movies. you gained a lot of fame after one particular action movie with a hint of horror where you had to fight aliens and such.

you were known as the attractive actress/actor that played one of the main characters in the show; and especially for how badass the character was portrayed. this obviously opened a bunch of doors of opportunities, and your manager suggested that you try other movie genres—like drama or ‘rom com’s.

you of course accepted, seeking to climb up the metaphorical stairs of the entertainment industry. even though you were much more experienced with action movies—maybe trying a bit of lovey dovey and stepping out of your comfort zone is a necessary step to make your name boom! on social media.

so, you auditioned for romance-type movies. at first, all the recruiters were confused. what was an action star doing in a romance audition? but after a few auditions, you finally got accepted into a rom-com titled ‘Changed Me’, with you being the main character’s love interest.

the story was simple; the main character was a normal highschool kid who was burnt out from school and from lack of money. after meeting a bubbly person who was rich, said person fell in love with him and the main character intended to use them for money at first, but then also fell in love over time.

the story was simple, yeah. but it was going to get carried by satoru gojo anyway. oh, and speaking of satoru gojo..

when you checked who the main character was, it was the legendary, mighty, strong, famous, steal-your-girl-and-man actor, satoru gojo. this is insane. how are you going to film your first rom-com with a professional romance actor with years of experience? well, just try your best, i guess..

it was time to film the first scene of the movie, which was satoru gojo’s character introduction. but you still wanted to watch him work since you were a complete beginner in these types of movies. all that you know is that it’s just like acting in action movies but you gotta hold back cracking a smile when you get too flustered.

seems simple enough..

you watch satoru gojo intently, watching how he keeps the ‘slice of life’ vibes in every scene with his humor, dialogue, and of course, looks. he looked calm and happy while being quiet, since he will be narrating the dialogue later anyway.

after he filmed his scenes, you then go on to observe him narrating his lines. his cocky, but still manly voice fits his character so well.

“so, yeah, this is my morning routine.. just wake up, go to school, do homework, and go to bed.. add in a bit of eating, drinking..” he mutters against the microphone, adding in a little defeated sigh to show that the main character is not satisfied with his current life.

damn, you thought. that was hella easy. it wasn’t your first time being introduced to scenes where they feel a little comedic—but it actually holds a deeper meaning. like in this one, satoru’s character is trying to play it off with a little bit of a joyful tone, but the dialogue itself plus the defeated sigh shows that he’s clearly not well.

then, the scene just switches to some comedic thing where the main character falls off of his bed trying to get up for school, with satoru muttering a little “augh.. that hurt..”

..maybe you were overanalyzing this?

maybe it was just a comedy scene, and not like those deep, emotional scenes hidden behind a comedic feeling—like what was usually present in your past movies.

right, past movies. plan a; forget about them.

well, not straight up forget about them and everything you’ve learned. forget about the usual formula, since this obviously isn’t accurate with this movie you were gonna act in.

from what you remember, there’s rarely any slice of life things with action movies unless it’s a jackie-chan (not sponsored) movie—with comedy, of course, and other comedy related action movies.

so, when a couple of days passed by, and it was your character’s first introduction in the movie, you knew you were fucked.

“okay, and.. action!”

your heart raced. the scene was very simple; you were just going to bump into the main character and introduce yourself. haha, easy, right?

but not when you keep accidentally staring at satoru gojo for too long, making the scene too awkward and you both having to restart it.

“why did you even bring a romance rookie over?” you hear satoru gojo whispering to the recruiter, making your heart drop. your first impression for this very experienced actor now just got buried in the ground.

“alright, mr. gojo, y/n, come on.” the director calls, ready to restart the scene.

after hearing that whisper, you really wanted to impress him for some reason. so when the scene played, you pretended to look at something in the distance—mimicking someone who is zoning out.

« just make sure to not actually fall when you feel satoru gojo bump into you. » you thought to yourself.

so when you feel a rather muscular build colliding with you, you pretend to fall, your books (props) falling on the ground. you look up to see satoru gojo, making sure not to stare too long.

“hey! watch where you’re going!” you scoff, picking up your books.

meanwhile, satoru seemed impressed. you were just stuttering over your lines a minute ago. “sorry,” he muttered, crouching to help you pick up your books.

bite back your smile.

it seemed impossible. how could you even get charmed just by this? he’s just acting! this isn’t real..

“cut!”

[atiny-for-life]

Ateez's Full Storyline Explained - THE MEMBERS (A-World)

Masterlist

This is fully focused on Ateez from the A-World since we don't yet have much backstory on the Black Pirates' individually (thus far, most of what I could gather on their shared history is largely speculation based on the Thanxx MV).

SIDE-NOTE: The majority of the A-World‘s members‘ backstory is easily found in their Diary Film which was released prior to the Inception MV. But for further details, look to the Fever Part 1 Diary Entries.

HONGJOONG

BACKSTORY

He comes from a troubled or at least not particularly close-knit family - they all moved away as he grew up, splitting up across the world and leaving him behind

When he was younger, before he met Ateez, he didn't have a dream and struggled to see the worth in life - he tried to please his parents with his grades but otherwise felt trapped in a pointless routine

After meeting Ateez (and bonding over a shared love for music and performing), he finally got a dream: to become a star and be seen by his family so he can reunite them

Until he achieves that though, he views his fellow Ateez members as his main family

Him, Seonghwa, and Yunho seem to have known each other the longest and were regularly performing in the streets as a trio

ROLE IN Z-WORLD (FEVER/TREASURE/THE WORLD SERIES):

He naturally took on the role as Captain since he was the first in their hideout and brought the rest of them together; additionally, he was also the one to be handed the Cromer by his alternate self

This role was likely also strengthened by Yunho who's been with him the longest alongside Seonghwa, and sees hints of his dead older brother in Hongjoong and thus tends to look to him for advice

In addition to his position as Captain, he'll also fulfill whichever other role is needed for their missions just like the rest of his crew

Frequently displayed character traits: passion, character strength, leadership, cleverness, caution, intuitivity, loyalty, bravery

CURRENT ROLE (AFTER 3 YEAR TIME SKIP):

He's lonely, missing his members who drifted apart after their permanent return to A-World

In order to ensure he won't forget their adventures, even as time keeps passing, he documented their shared journey on a blog which blew up in popularity, leading him to turn his entries into a full blown novel

Now, he's got it all: a best-selling book, a family who returned to him, fame, but alone in his room at night, he still feels empty

SEONGHWA

BACKSTORY

His outlook on music was permanently altered when he witnessed a girl with a 'Be Free' bracelet dance

He was part of the original Ateez trio alongside Yunho and Hongjoong

ROLE IN Z-WORLD (FEVER/TREASURE/THE WORLD SERIES):

His unique connection to the 'Be Free' girl transcends realities and has allowed the fusion of the currently two biggest known revolutionary groups in the Z-World (see: Will - The World Ep. Fin Diary Entries)

As a result, I would describe his current role as a mediator between Ateez/The Black Pirates and Thunder since he's thus far been the most willing to extend good faith toward Thunder and learn about their backstory

Previously, like most other members, he simply took on whichever role was needed for the current mission

Frequently displayed character traits: intuitivity, kindness, trust, loyalty

CURRENT ROLE (AFTER 3 YEAR TIME SKIP):

After struggling majorly with anxiety and trying to cope with the trauma the Z-World inflicted on them, Seonghwa threw himself into his studies and later became a firefighter

There are fulfilling elements to saving people in this way, but he still can't forget their shared dream of making it in the music scene

He has yet to read Hongjoong's book, having kept it on his desk since its release

YUNHO

BACKSTORY

His older brother died in a car accident after giving up his dream of becoming a musician

As means of fulfilling his brother's dream post-mortem, Yunho wants to work alongside Ateez and establish a successful music career

Yunho admires Hongjoong as a person and artist but also feels he resembles his older brother which surely influenced how he originally viewed Hongjoong and why he's always looked to him for guidance

He, alongside Seonghwa, has also known Hongjoong the longest and used to be a street performer trio with them

Prior to his brother's accident, he spent a lot of time riding around on his motorcycle with a separate friend group

ROLE IN Z-WORLD (FEVER/TREASURE/THE WORLD SERIES):

He was the first to establish an emotional bond with Left-Eye, who is still one of their first and closest allies, when they bonded over their shared loss of a loved one and lingering survivors guilt (see: Fever Part 3 Diary Entries)

Other than that, he'll fulfill any role needed, such as utilizing his established ability to operate a motorcycle and whatever else is needed (though it does seem like all of Ateez have learned to drive pretty much any street vehicle since they've arrived in the Z-World)

Frequently displayed character traits: honesty, empathy, loyalty, bravery

CURRENT ROLE (AFTER 3 YEAR TIME SKIP):

He became disillusioned with their world, recognizing it as colder than the Z-World - people don't care about each other, just about themselves

After the situation with Ateez fell apart, he threw himself into archaeology, hoping to find another artifact like the Cromer which can reunite them for another adventure

YEOSANG

BACKSTORY:

He comes from a very strict household

His parents, especially his father, already planned out his entire life and filled his days to the brim with schedules, such as violin practice

As a result, he felt trapped his entire life (like a caged bird) to the point where he compared his upbringing to Strictland upon first arriving in the Z-World (see: Fever Part 2 Diary Entries)

His only escape was studying the inner workings of machines which is how he taught himself the basics of engineering and robotics

He was the last to join Ateez and got in by building them a drone upon their request

ROLE IN Z-WORLD (FEVER/TREASURE/THE WORLD SERIES):

He's in charge of controlling the surveillance butterflies seen in Will - The World Ep. Fin Diary Entries which tells me he's still their main tech-guy

This role is also highlighted in Guerrilla when we see him inside the surveillance van

Frequently displayed character traits: self-blame/guilt, self-sacrifice, loyalty, quick thinking, bravery

CURRENT ROLE (AFTER 3 YEAR TIME SKIP):

Yeosang recognized money as the biggest obstacle between Ateez and achieving their dream so he decided to tackle the problem head on

Reinventing himself, he‘s become a leader of the investment world - he keeps profit in mind but also invests in the arts on the side, even if that means losing money

He's the one who invested in Hongjoong's authorial debut

SAN

BACKSTORY:

He was forced to move around a lot growing up which left him lonely and isolated

Ateez were his first real friends and he was desperate to stay with them, even when his family already planned the next move

His strong longing for a fixed friend group also carries into his behavior and reflects in his emotional reactions to certain situations, i.e. his immense devastation when they first lost Yeosang and his outrage when he discovered Android Guardians burn prisoners' treasured memories to get high

ROLE IN Z-WORLD (FEVER/TREASURE/THE WORLD SERIES):

He has no set primary role, so he'll also simply execute whatever part of the mission is assigned to him, such as playing the decoy (see: Guerrilla)

Frequently displayed character traits: strong sense of justice, bravery, loyalty, empathy, sensitivity

CURRENT ROLE (AFTER 3 YEAR TIME SKIP):

San started his own business after Ateez drifted apart - a food truck - and ended up in Jeju where he gets to meet a lot of people as he prepares their food and watches them eat with their loved ones

Through their shared conversations, he quickly learned most never get to live out their dreams and wondered if it was time for him to accept he may be sharing the same fate

MINGI

BACKSTORY:

He grew up in poverty with no family left aside from his grandmother

He'd been suicidal since he was young which led him to build up walls that keep others from getting too close

However, he's known Wooyoung since elementary school and Wooyoung's persistence eventually wore Mingi down and they got closer

For quite some time, Wooyoung then was the only one who could make him laugh

Wooyoung was also the one who ultimately introduced him to the rest of Ateez (i.e. Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Yunho)

After Ateez were eventually established as a group of eight, Mingi's grandmother got into an accident which made Mingi relapse and shut down since he felt he was no longer allowed to be happy with his grandmother so close to death

His resulting decision to fully depart from Ateez had him calling their formerly shared dreams meaningless, upon which Jongho became enraged enough to lash out and punch him but Yunho intervened before it could escalate further than that one punch

Mingi‘s mental well-being was brought up again when he overheard Left-Eye talk to the Grimes siblings about their lingering hope to fix the state of the Z-World because it led him to realize how powerful dancing could be and how much he'd been letting the past affect the way he sees the world (see: Fever Part 3 Diary Entries)

ROLE IN Z-WORLD (FEVER/TREASURE/THE WORLD SERIES):

He has no designated role, but did recently team up with childhood friend Wooyoung to go undercover as security guards at Prestige Academy during their mission (see: Outlaw - The World Ep. 2 Diary Entries)

He unfortunately also got traumatized during another mission when the Prestige Academy boy's brother died right in front of him and he was left to take out a bunch of Android Guardians by himself without time to process what he'd just witnessed (see: Will - The World Ep. Fin Diary Entries)

Frequently displayed character traits: bravery, quick thinking, empathy

CURRENT ROLE (AFTER 3 YEAR TIME SKIP):

Despite coming from a broken home, Mingi made it big by becoming a professional model for a fashion magazine working with high-end designers

His social media is flooded with adoring comments, his influence far reaching, but he still can’t help but get captivated by a group of boys busking on the side of the road

When he tries to distract himself from the memories, he comes across a video of Hongjoong reuniting with his family

WOOYOUNG

BACKSTORY:

He grew up alongside Mingi and wormed his way into Mingi's life despite the strong walls Mingi had put up

Whenever he feels shy, he'll laugh it off and when he's scared, he'll keep talking until it wears off

He doesn't mind being teased for his habits

He had a strong desire to be a performer but was dealing with intense stage fright until he met Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Yunho at a street performance

They quickly took him under his wing and helped him overcome his fear

Once he became a member of their group, he introduced Mingi who proceeded to join them as well

ROLE IN Z-WORLD (FEVER/TREASURE/THE WORLD SERIES):

He has no set role but the injury he sustained during the first Android Guardian raid they experienced in the Z-World (see: Fever Part 2 Diary Entries) did lead to them finding out about Left Eye's existence which subsequently led them to connect with the Grimes siblings who were then the catalyst behind the establishment of Thunder (see: Will - The World Ep. Fin Diary Entries)

Frequently displayed character traits: nosiness/curiosity, playfulness, quick thinking, bravery, loyalty

CURRENT ROLE (AFTER 3 YEAR TIME SKIP):

Struggling with dread and anxiety after their return from Z-World, Wooyoung was desperate to get back on stage but couldn't see Ateez making it there after their many failed attempts to grab the public's attention

He became a flight attendant instead, making the plane his stage - their guests adore him

On his latest flight, Yunho and Mingi just so happen to be on the plane

JONGHO

BACKSTORY:

His original dream was to become a pro basketball player but a serious ankle injury shattered that dream and made him feel like his life was over

Meeting Ateez became his second big dream

When Mingi tried to walk away from all of them and called their dreams meaningless, Jongho felt betrayed, like his dream was being taken from him, so he lashed out - an incident he got reminded of again in the Fever Epilogue Diary Entries

ROLE IN Z-WORLD (FEVER/TREASURE/THE WORLD SERIES):

His trauma from his past as a basketball player is further explored in the Fever Part 2 and Part 3 Diary Entries but since then, he seems to have moved on and left it in the past

Like most of the other members, he has no set role and will fulfill necessary roles as needed

Frequently displayed character traits: bravery, commitment, quick thinking, loyalty

CURRENT ROLE (AFTER 3 YEAR TIME SKIP):

Jongho became a songwriter for an idol group after getting signed by a label who approached him after hearing a song he recorded with the Ateez members in the past

After breaking up a fight between the boys he now works with, he thinks back to his own argument with Mingi so long ago and gets lost in the memories

Putting on the song they recorded together so long ago, he cranks up the volume and feels the painful ache caused by the sound of their voices singing his song

[makingfanfictionstosleep]

theirs to share

a/n : jjk characters not mine. contains heavy lemons / mature scenes as the story progresses. reverse harem. femoc x nanami/geto/gojo. jjk alternate au.

Wattpad Link : Theirs to Share

status : 𝑜𝓃𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔

<…previous ... next…>

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

FOURTEEN

The sun had barely crested the horizon, casting a soft golden hue through the wide kitchen windows. The air was quiet, the kind of peace that wrapped gently around you like a blanket. 

You padded softly down the hallway, the chill of the hardwood floor sending shivers down your bare legs, your skin prickling with goosebumps. Your favorite oversized sweater hung loosely on your frame, the fabric draping over one shoulder, exposing the smooth curve of your collarbone and the hardened peaks of your nipples, clearly visible beneath the thin material. Your shorts were minuscule, the frayed hem barely grazing the lower curve of your bottom, the thin fabric doing little to conceal the plump mounds of your ass. Your hair was twisted messily on top of your head, a few loose strands curling around your face, which was bare of makeup, your natural beauty on full display. Your eyes, still heavy-lidded with sleep, blinked slowly as you entered the kitchen, your lips parted in a soft, inviting yawn. 

The smell of coffee and something sizzling hit your senses before you rounded the corner.

And then you saw him.

Nanami stood by the stove, his bare torso a sculpted masterpiece in the morning light. His golden skin glowed, each muscle defined and rippling with every movement. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, the waistband riding just below the sharp V that disappeared into the fabric. His hair, usually styled with meticulous precision, was a tousled mess—soft and inviting, begging to be touched. A quiet, sleepy scowl still settled between his brows as he cracked an egg with practiced ease, his morning routine already in full swing.

He glanced over his shoulder when he sensed your presence, voice low and gravelly from sleep. “You’re up early.”

You blinked, the words caught somewhere between your throat and brain. “So are you.”

He nodded, flipping something in the pan with one hand, the other lifting his coffee cup to his lips. “Routine.”

You stepped into the kitchen, the cool tile shocking your feet awake. “Do you always cook shirtless?”

Nanami’s gaze raked over your body, his eyes darkening with desire as they lingered on the swell of your breasts, barely contained by the oversized sweater, and the bare expanse of your legs. He arched a brow, his voice low and husky. “Do you always walk around like that?”

Touché.

You smirked, sauntering to the counter and hopping up to sit on it, swinging your legs gently. “You’re cooking?”

“It’s my turn,” he said simply, as if it weren’t a big deal that he looked like some kind of calendar spread for Responsible & Sexy Men Who Cook. “You like tamagoyaki, right?”

You nodded, eyes still taking in the sight of him—stoic, half-awake, and beautiful in the kind of way that made your heart forget how to beat normally.

He plated the food and set it down beside you, then turned to pour you coffee. No words were exchanged, but the domestic intimacy of it all said more than enough.

As he handed you your mug, your fingers brushed. You saw the flicker of something in his eyes—something warm, restrained, but very much there.

“You look…” he began, then paused.

You tilted your head. “Hmm?”

Nanami shook his head, returning to his plate. “Nothing. Just—good morning.”

But the low timbre in his voice said more than that.

Your smile curled slow and knowing as you sipped your coffee. “Good morning, Kento.”

You took your first bite of the tamagoyaki and froze mid-chew, eyes widening slightly. "Wait... this is actually good."

Nanami glanced over at you from across the small kitchen table, still shirtless, still devastatingly nonchalant. "It’s just eggs."

You pointed your chopsticks at him, eyes narrowing. “Don’t downplay this. This is criminally good. Like… ‘I’d pay for this at a brunch café’ good.”

He gave a modest shrug, sipping his coffee without looking up. “I cook. I enjoy precision. Cooking is precise.”

You leaned in, grinning. “So what I’m hearing is… you’re secretly a domestic husband material.”

That earned the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth. Barely there. But you caught it.

Nanami finally lifted his gaze to meet yours—and that’s when you felt it.

His eyes weren’t just looking at you. They were eating you alive.

Slow. Intense. Calculated.

Your breath hitched ever so slightly under the weight of his stare. It wasn’t lewd. It wasn’t overbearing. It was quiet hunger—tamed desire simmering beneath practiced restraint. The way his gaze traveled over you, your bare legs swinging slightly under the table, the oversized sweater slipping farther off your shoulder—it felt like he was memorizing every inch of you.

And still, his voice was steady. “Eat. You’ll get cold.”

That’s what he said but his eyes said something else entirely.

You looked down at your plate, cheeks flaring pink. You weren’t sure if it was from the food, the temperature, or the sight of him—still shirtless, golden skin glowing in the morning light, abs cut like stone, and biceps flexing with every movement. And he’s the one saying ‘You’ll be cold.’

“Not that I mind…” you muttered, mostly to yourself, stabbing at your food.

Nanami quirked a brow. “Hm?”

You shook your head quickly, stuffing another bite into your mouth. “Nothing. Just... dangerous to cook shirtless. Oil splatters.”

He tilted his head slightly, tone neutral but with the faintest edge of tease. “I’ll take my chances.”

You choked a little.

He didn’t react. Cool and composed as ever. But that look in his eyes lingered like a slow burn.

You watched him for a moment, grinning.

“You know,” you started, voice playful, soft in the golden morning light, “you’re like an entirely different person before you get caffeine in your system.”

Nanami didn’t look up, but the corner of his mouth ticked just enough to betray that he was listening. “That’s because I am,” he said dryly. “Coffee is my lifeline. Without it, I wouldn’t survive Satoru’s daily circus act.”

You giggled, covering your mouth slightly with your fingers. It was light, airy, and unconsciously sultry in a way that made his pulse stutter. The oversized sweater you were wrapped in slid further down your shoulder with your movement—revealing the smooth line of your collarbone, then the subtle curve beneath it.

Nanami’s gaze flicked up.

No straps. No undershirt.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, taking a sip of his coffee to hide his sudden thirst. But his eyes betrayed him, flicking back to your chest where he noticed your nipples pressing against the thin material, hard and prominent, begging for attention.

You had no idea what you were doing to him. Or maybe you did—and you were just cruelly innocent about it. Your laughter was soft, but to Nanami, it was the kind that burned low and slow, the kind that teased without trying.

You leaned forward to grab more rice, your sweater shifting again—hiking up just slightly over your thighs, the hem barely brushing the seat, the way your bare skin stretched and peeked out like it was teasing on purpose. But it wasn’t. That was what tortured him.

Nanami shifted slightly in his seat. Subtle, practiced. His legs parted just enough to ease the growing pressure against the front of his pants. He turned slightly to the side, arm resting on the table like he was just adjusting for comfort—but really, it was to shield the hardening strain beneath his waistband.

You looked up at him again, sweet and warm. “So, what’s the day looking like?” you asked, completely unaware of how absolutely undone you were making him.

Nanami cleared his throat, voice even—miraculously. “Paperwork. Gojo has a student visitation meeting with Principal Yaga. I’ve been assigned to assist him, for some reason.”

You made a sympathetic noise. “Oof. Good luck.”

He glanced at you, eyes hooded, his gaze dragging down your frame slowly before he forced himself to meet your eyes again. “Thanks. I’ll need it.”

You hummed again, not catching the sharpness in his stare. “I might take Megumi-chan to the market later,” you mused, distracted by your food. “We still need to get him new shoes. And I promised the twins I’d help them with their book report.”

Nanami nodded, barely listening—more focused on the way your bare legs crossed slowly under the table, sweater still sliding dangerously close to revealing even more of your skin.

You smiled at him between bites. “You’re really good at this, you know. Cooking. And… mornings.”

He huffed softly. “I’m just organized.”

“Well, I’m lucky,” you said, flashing him a sleepy, dreamy smile that nearly finished him off. “Waking up to this? I could get used to it.”

Nanami had to look away, gripping his coffee mug tightly.

You finished your meal with a satisfied sigh, placing your chopsticks down gently on the side of your plate. “That was seriously delicious,” you said, rising to your feet with a stretch that made your oversized sweater ride up just a bit higher over your thighs. “Let me get the dishes.”

Nanami was just about to stand and gather them himself — ever the gentleman — when you slid over to his side. “I’ve got it,” you said softly, reaching for his plate.

But in doing so, you leaned in just a little too close.

Your breasts, soft and warm, brushed against his arm, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through him. He froze, his muscles tensing beneath his bare skin as he felt the absence of fabric between your sweater and your flesh. Your nipples, hard and prominent, pressed against him, the sensation searing into his mind like a hot iron brand.

He inhaled sharply, the scent of your skin filling his nostrils, a heady mix of sleep and something uniquely you. Your proximity, the accidental intimacy of the moment, stirred something primal within him. He wanted to reach out, to pull you onto his lap, to bury his face in the crook of your neck and breathe you in. But he remained still, his hands clenched at his sides, fighting the urge to touch you, to claim you right there in the kitchen.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t even seem to realize it at first.

But then your eyes flicked to his face, and you saw the way he stiffened. Your gaze dropped for just a second — and that’s when you noticed. The outline in his pants was impossible to ignore — the ridiculous size of him pressed visibly against the fabric. Heat shot straight to your cheeks, blooming fast and hot. You quickly averted your eyes, focusing entirely on grabbing his plate and cup with shaky but determined hands.

Nanami subtly shifted again in his seat, trying his best to angle his lower half away from you, discreetly shielding the very obvious result of what just transpired. His mind screamed at him to keep it together, but his body was already betraying him.

You noticed. Of course you did. But you didn’t say a word — just smiled softly, blush still bright on your cheeks — then turned toward the sink.

Nanami swallowed thickly.

The sway of your hips as you walked away felt criminal. Your long legs, your bare skin, the way your hair was still tousled from sleep — and the ghost sensation of your chest against his arm — it all melted into one slow, torturous moment.

You turned just before exiting the kitchen, resting a hand on the doorframe. “Same time tomorrow?” you asked sweetly, teasingly.

Nanami blinked, stunned. “...Yes,” he managed, his voice just a touch hoarse.

You gave him one last smile — devastating in its softness — before disappearing down the hall, the quiet sound of your footsteps trailing behind you.

Nanami let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, dragging a hand down his face.

You are going to be the death of him.

And yet... he was already looking forward to breakfast tomorrow. Maybe it was the best new part of his routine.

You barely made it back to your room before your back hit the door with a quiet thud.

Your heart was still racing, cheeks burning with the heat that hadn't left you since the kitchen. The image of him — shirtless, golden hair messy, muscles rippling under the soft morning light — was seared into your memory. And then there was that. The impossible outline in his pants, straining beneath the fabric.

You squeezed your eyes shut and covered your mouth with the back of your hand.

He was fucking huge.

Your mind began to wander, dangerously so. You tried to stop yourself, shaking your head, fanning your face, willing the heat to fade.

No. No. Don’t go there.

But the memory of your breasts brushing against his bare bicep… the way his gaze had darkened, hungry and restrained… the way he had shifted to hide himself from you…

You exhaled shakily.

And that’s when you felt it — the subtle, unmistakable dampness between your thighs.

You bit your lip.

There was no denying it now. Nanami Kento had you thoroughly undone — and you’d have to take care of this on your own.

You turned on the shower, the sound of rushing water doing little to drown out the thoughts that had taken hold of you.

Steam filled the room quickly, curling around your skin as you stepped in, letting the warm water cascade down your back and over your shoulders. You pressed your palms against the wall, exhaling slowly.

You weren’t proud of where your mind had gone — but you couldn’t stop it either.

You could still feel the ghost of his bicep beneath your chest… the brush of your skin against his… the heat in his gaze as he tried, and failed, to hide the evidence of what you did to him without even meaning to.

Gods, Kento…

You tilted your head back under the stream, biting your lip.

Your thoughts spiraled. His strong hands. The way his voice dipped when he was half-awake. The subtle hitch in his breath when you leaned just a little too close. And that impossible outline in his pants — the one you definitely weren’t supposed to notice… but did. And how you immediately imagined it being buried inside of you. Hot damn.

The heat pooling in your core pulsed with every memory, every little detail. You let your hand slide slowly across your own skin, the steam cloaking your flushed cheeks as you finally gave in to what your body had been begging for since you walked away from him.

Your breath hitched.

You whispered his name like a secret.

And for a few stolen moments, he was all yours — in your mind, in your fantasy, in the warmth of your shower and the ache in your chest.

When it was over, you leaned against the tiled wall, catching your breath.

You weren’t sure if this helped or made everything worse.

All you knew was that the next time you saw Nanami Kento… you might not survive breakfast.

And it’s only 7 in the morning.

Help. You need help.

The late afternoon sun filtered lazily through the wide windows of Gojo Satoru’s office, casting golden rays across the room and painting his usually chaotic workspace in a surprisingly soft light.

He was already sprawled across the couch when you stepped in, a stack of lesson outlines on the table, completely untouched.

You paused at the doorway, silently taking him in.

Satoru wore his signature tinted glasses—tilted ever so slightly down his nose so you could see the glint of his eyes through them. His snowy hair was an unintentional masterpiece, messy but effortlessly perfect in that maddening way only he could pull off. A crisp white button-up stretched across his broad chest, three buttons undone, exposing a sinful peek of skin and the sculpted planes of muscle underneath. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, veins running like whispers across strong arms. And the way his legs parted lazily, pants pulled just taut enough to leave very little to the imagination—it made your throat dry.

He didn’t have to try.

And that was the problem.

You shifted, adjusting the folder in your hands and trying not to let your eyes linger too long.

"You're staring," Satoru said without looking up.

"I'm not," you lied.

His smirk deepened as he tilted his head to finally meet your gaze.

Then he froze.

For just a second—so fleeting you’d have missed it if you weren’t looking—his cocky expression faltered. His eyes dropped and swept over you like a slow drag of heat.

You wore a sleek, black blouse—simple, yes, but clung to your curves like a second skin, in a way that left nothing to the imagination. The fabric was thin, almost translucent, outlining the swell of your breasts, the hardened peaks of your nipples is outlined beneath your bra, tucked neatly into the waistband of a high-waisted skirt. It was short, but not inappropriate—modest enough for school, sinful enough to drive him a little insane. And those thick-soled boots… they made your legs look lethal.

Satoru's eyes widened slightly beneath his tinted glasses as you walked in, his gaze raking over your form appreciatively. He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his cool facade, but his mind was racing, imagining all the things he wanted to do to you in that outfit. He flashed you a flirtatious smile, his eyes lingering on your chest a moment too long. "Looking sharp today," he commented, his voice casual, but with an undercurrent of desire. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, attempting to hide the growing bulge in his pants.

“You know,” he said, voice like velvet wrapped around something dangerous, “you dress like you’re trying to kill me.”

You arched a brow, calmly walking over to sit beside him, brushing your skirt under you as you crossed one leg over the other, leaning forward to spread out the curriculum plans across the table.

“Funny. I could say the same thing about your shirt,” you murmured, not looking at him.

He chuckled under his breath, but inside, his thoughts were anything but cool. He was imagining unbuttoning that blouse slowly, revealing inch by inch of your smooth skin, his hands trembling with the need to touch you. Then slamming cock in you while you wear those damn boots on.

Your arm brushed his as you passed him a stack of notes. He didn’t move, didn’t lean away. His scent wrapped around you—clean and warm, with something subtly spiced that made your skin prickle.

And the way he was watching you now?

It wasn’t teasing.

It was focused. Intense. Like he was doing calculations in his head—figuring out how close he could get before crossing a line.

You turned your head slowly, meeting his gaze.

Satoru smirked, tapping his pen on his thigh.

"Let’s focus," you said, a little breathless.

"Sure," he said, leaning in just an inch closer. "I’m focused."

But you both knew he wasn’t talking about the lesson plans.

You gave an exaggerated sigh as you reached across the low coffee table in front of the couch, poking the side of his face with your pen.

“Gojo Satoru, focus,” you scolded in a sweet, teasing voice, one eyebrow arched. “We’ve been on this couch for an hour and you’ve only managed to doodle sunglasses on Yaga’s face in the staff handbook.”

He grinned lazily, one long leg draped over the other, his body completely spread out in a man-sprawl that took up half the damn couch. His white button-up was open just enough to tease you with that smooth, well-defined chest beneath, sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms flexing whenever he shifted. Those fitted slacks weren’t helping either.

“You say it like I haven’t made any progress,” he replied with a smirk. “Those doodles are historically accurate.”

You shook your head, lips twitching. “Seriously. If you don’t help me get this framework outlined, I’m getting Principal Gakuganji to come sit here instead.”

Satoru winced theatrically. “Okay, ouch. You really know how to threaten a man.”

Still, he shifted his weight slightly, leaning in closer to where the printed outlines were strewn between the two of you on the coffee table. You followed his lead, scooting toward the center, and the moment your thighs brushed, you both paused for just a beat.

Your skirt, already short, hiked up a little more as you crossed your legs, baring more of your smooth thighs, and you pretended not to notice how his eyes flicked there — and stayed a second too long. Meanwhile, you were very aware of the way his shirt gaped open just enough to hint at the hard lines beneath, and his messy hair and glasses only made him worse to look at.

Unfair. Completely unfair.

But you were here to work.

Supposedly.

“We need to finalize the junior year course blocks before the next board meeting,” you reminded, tucking your skirt down — though it was a lost cause — and trying to sound composed. Your fitted black blouse tugged just slightly when you leaned forward again, and Satoru had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop his brain from wandering.

Then, just as you were about to nudge him again with a pen, he surprised you.

“Right, you said something about rotating elemental theory with cursed energy stabilization, introducing more field assessments in year two, and pushing back the ethics module until they’ve actually seen some of the darker stuff out there,” he listed off smoothly, without glancing at the papers.

You blinked.

“Oh,” you murmured. “So you were listening?”

Satoru turned his head toward you, resting his chin lazily on his shoulder with a knowing smile. “I’m always listening. Just because I look like I’m distracted doesn’t mean I didn’t absorb every word.”

The cocky gleam in his eye made you roll yours — but your blush betrayed you anyway.

“Maybe I’m even more focused than usual,” he mused, voice dropping a note. His gaze dragged down your breasts, to your thighs, lingering with shameless appreciation before returning to your eyes. “Or… more inspired. Depends on how you look at it.”

You stared at him, jaw slack for half a second. “Gojo Satoru!”

He only laughed — easy, low, devastating.

Still, he scooted a little closer and leaned forward toward the papers. “Okay, let’s go over that junior curriculum again. I promise I’ll keep my eyes on the work.”

You weren’t sure if he meant the papers or the way your blouse stretched with every breath.

And he wasn’t about to clarify.

With the final curriculum outline spread across the table and every detail for Yaga approved and noted, you let out a satisfied sigh, stretching your arms above your head. The motion caused your blouse to lift slightly, revealing a small sliver of your waist, and Satoru noticed. Of course he did.

“Mission complete,” you said, smiling proudly.

“Look at us,” Satoru grinned. “Actual responsible adults. Let’s commemorate the moment.”

He reached into the side drawer of his office and pulled out a small box of sweets — neatly wrapped mochi with a glossy sheen.

“Pick your reward,” he offered with a wink, holding the box out.

You leaned in, eyeing the treats, about to grab one — only for him to pull it back.

“Ah-ah,” he teased, grinning. “Not unless I feed it to you.”

You blinked, your brows lifting. “Satoru, seriously?”

“I’m very serious,” he said, already picking out one of the soft, sweet pieces between his fingers. “Mochi tastes better when it’s fed to you by someone charming and ridiculously handsome. It’s science.”

You crossed your arms, cheeks pink. “That’s not science.”

He leaned forward a little, holding it up in front of your mouth. “Just let me spoil you a little. You worked hard.”

You stared at the offered treat. Then at his face. He looked too pleased with himself.

“…Fine,” you mumbled under your breath and leaned in, lips brushing against his fingers as you took the mochi into your mouth.

The moment lingered. He watched your lips move, his thumb just barely brushing your bottom lip.

Satoru swallowed a little harder than necessary. “See? Told you. Tastes sweeter, doesn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning, but didn’t argue. He fed you another, and another, as the air between you shifted — playful but simmering beneath the surface.

In between bites, Satoru said casually, “Suguru’s probably packing for tomorrow’s mission. He mentioned something about scouting a couple rural wards — see if there are any kids showing signs of cursed energy. He’ll probably bring a few back.”

Your expression softened. “That sounds like him.”

Satoru smiled quietly, eyes watching you fondly. “I think he’d like to see you before he leaves.”

You nodded, your lips curved in a thoughtful smile, but your eyes held a mischievous glint. They flicked to the mochi he held out, then back to his face, a silent challenge. You leaned forward, your breath warm against his skin as you wrapped your lips around his thumb. Your tongue darted out, swirling around the digit, tasting the sweet residue of the mochi. Your teeth grazed his skin, just enough to send a shiver down his spine, a promise of what your mouth could do elsewhere. He froze, his breath catching in his throat, his pulse pounding in his ears. Your boldness, your sensuality, it was intoxicating. He felt his control slipping, his mind filling with images of you on your knees, your lips wrapped around something else entirely.

It was slow. Playful. Flirty. A little sinful.

And Satoru?

Completely stunned.

His lips parted, but no words came out. His breath hitched audibly.

You gave a teasing smile as you pulled away, chewing the sweet slowly before standing up. You smoothed down your skirt, turned toward the door, and called over your shoulder:

“I’ll be back later. Gonna go find Suguru and tell him good luck.”

The sway of your hips as you walked away was enough to short-circuit whatever was left of Satoru’s brain.

He stared after you, thumb still damp, lips parted.

“…Holy shit,” he muttered, sitting back on the couch like he’d just been struck by a curse.

You found Suguru in his room, the door slightly ajar, soft light spilling out into the hallway. He was hunched over an open duffel bag on his bed, tossing in what looked like half of his closet with the grace of a rampaging curse.

He looked up when you knocked lightly on the frame. “Hey,” he greeted, giving you a soft, tired smile. “Didn’t expect you.”

“Didn’t want you leaving without at least saying good luck,” you replied, stepping inside and letting the door click shut behind you.

He wore a low-sleeved muscle shirt that hugged his frame unfairly well, paired with loose, comfy black trousers that hung low on his hips. His hair was messily tied up in a bun, strands falling around his face, and he was barefoot — which somehow only made him look more effortlessly dangerous. More real.

You tried not to stare. Tried.

But your eyes flicked down for a second too long — and there it was: the way those pants did absolutely nothing to hide the impressive size of his cock.

Your face warmed.

Thick cock.

He noticed.

A slow smirk curved across his lips as he returned to his bag. “You okay there?”

You cleared your throat and quickly looked away. “I’m… yeah. I came to see if you needed help with your cock—bag, I mean bag.” You stammered and blushed, red in the ears that you just want the earth to swallow you, but your pride can’t let you run away so just suck it. Or suck him.

“I’m good,” he said casually, chuckling at your reaction, even though a half-folded shirt was hanging off the edge of the bag like it was trying to escape. “Got everything I need.”

You gave him a look, unimpressed, your embarrassment slowly fading away. Then moved closer and surveyed the mess he was calling a packing job. “This is your definition of ‘good’? Megumi packs better than you, and he’s a kid.”

That made him laugh under his breath, shaking his head. “Low blow.”

“Truth hurts,” you quipped, already reaching over to fix the disaster. You knelt on the bed beside his bag, smoothing out the shirts and refolding them properly. He stepped aside, letting you work, though you felt the weight of his gaze settle on you like a second layer of heat.

When you finally looked up, he was staring.

“What?”

His eyes raked over you slowly, lingered a bit at your ass. “You look good,” he said, voice low and velvet smooth. “That outfit… does things. That skirt’s just long enough to still be considered modest. But barely.”

Your cheeks flushed instantly.

“You wore that to Satoru’s office?” he asked, tone unreadable, but his eyes were intense. “Lucky bastard.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t deny it. “We were working.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “Bet he got real distracted.”

You refused to answer that, instead going back to fixing his bag, cheeks still warm. But the shift in the room had already happened — the air was thick with quiet awareness, your proximity to him electric, and the warmth of his stare sent goosebumps prickling along your skin.

Suguru didn’t press further.

His smirk said enough.

Suguru stood there for all of five seconds watching you systematically refold, reorganize, and perfectly align everything in his duffel like it was your sacred duty.

“I’m useless here,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a defeated sort of smirk. “I’ll get us coffee.”

“Smart choice,” you called without looking up, hands working with practiced efficiency.

By the time he returned with two warm mugs, the chaos that once was his luggage had been transformed into clean rows and folded stacks, zipped neatly and sitting at the ready. He stepped inside just as you were closing the bag and gave a long, appreciative whistle.

“Remind me to never argue with you again when it comes to organizing,” he said, handing you a mug.

You accepted it with a small smile and a playful nudge of your shoulder against his. “You’re lucky I like you.”

He didn’t answer that — not with words, anyway. Just a faint quirk of his lips and a look in his eyes that lingered a second too long.

You both sat on the edge of his bed, bare feet brushing the carpet — you’d kicked off your boots outside his door out of habit, and he noticed. He noticed everything. His gaze dipped to your legs, then back up again as he took a slow sip of his coffee to keep himself distracted.

The silence was comfortable, warm. Your shoulders brushed every time one of you shifted.

“I’ll be covering a lot of ground tomorrow,” he said eventually, his voice low, like he didn’t want to break the moment. “There’s word of a few unregistered cases — kids showing signs but not understanding what’s happening to them. I’ll see what I can do.”

“I love what you’re doing,” you replied softly, gazing at him over the rim of your mug. “Seriously. You're saving them before the world chews them up. It matters.”

He looked at you then — truly looked — and for a moment, Suguru’s expression turned quiet and unreadable, his heart clearly caught between pride and something far more tender.

“More and more kids have started calling you Papa, haven’t they?” you teased lightly, giggling into your coffee.

He groaned, but there was no bite to it. “Nanako and Mimiko started it. Now the others won’t stop.”

“I can just picture it,” you said through another laugh. “You, wrestling a horde of five-year-olds demanding your attention while trying to talk to a government official about cursed energy containment.”

“You think that’s funny?”

“I think it’s adorable.”

He chuckled, tipping his head back slightly, messy bun shifting with the movement. “Yeah, well. I’m not exactly going to stop them.”

You leaned against his shoulder then, just a bit, your head nearly brushing his. “That’s what makes you the best person for it.”

Suguru didn’t say anything after that. He just watched you from the corner of his eye, sipping his coffee — savoring the warmth in the cup, the scent of you beside him, the shape of your bare legs curled up on his bed, and the way your smile lit up his room better than any lamp could.

If he had it his way, he wouldn’t be leaving at all.

As the last sip of coffee slipped past your lips, you glanced toward the packed bag and then to Suguru, whose gaze had been on you more often than the time. The air between you still carried that lazy warmth, but now it thickened with a weight neither of you addressed—until you stood up and smoothed down your skirt, letting out a soft breath.

“I guess this is goodbye for now,” you said gently, eyes meeting his.

Suguru didn’t get up right away. He leaned back on his palms, one brow raised. “What, no good luck charm for the road?”

You tilted your head with a slight laugh. “A lucky charm? What kind do you want?”

He stood then, slow and steady, and you hadn’t realized just how close you were until he was in front of you. His voice dropped, low and soft like honey dripping off a blade. “The kind that’ll stay in my head until I make it back. The kind only you can give.”

You blinked, not expecting that kind of answer. “Uh… okay? Go for it?” you offered playfully, thinking he might steal a hair tie from your wrist or ask for a trinket or even a hug.

But instead, Suguru stepped in without hesitation and claimed your lips.

Suguru's lips crashed against yours, the kiss fierce and demanding. His mouth moved with a hunger that stole your breath, his tongue invading, claiming, exploring. You can taste a hint of nicotine, mint and coffee — addicting and delicious. One hand cradled your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheekbone, a stark contrast to the roughness of his kiss. The other hand gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him.

Your breasts pressed into his firm chest, your nipples hardening at the contact. His fingers flexed, sliding down to squeeze your ass, the touch possessive, eager. He groaned into your mouth, his hips pressing forward, letting you feel the hardness growing in his pants. It was as if he couldn't help himself, as if the temptation of your body was too much to resist. He kissed you like a man starved, like he'd been waiting for this moment, for an excuse to touch you, to claim you.

You didn’t pull away. You leaned in.

His mouth moved with desire, but not reckless. It was intention, it was promise. It was Suguru—warm, dangerous, hungry in the quietest way, and far too tempting.

By the time you both parted, your breath had gone shallow, your lips tingled, and your heart stuttered like it couldn’t decide how fast it wanted to beat.

“Good luck?” you whispered, eyes wide and dazed.

He smirked, brushing his thumb along your lower lip. “Best lucky charm ever.”

Then, still tasting him on your lips, you watched him pick up his bag and sling it over his shoulder like he hadn’t just left you stunned and burning in the middle of his room.

And he didn’t look back. Because he knew you’d be thinking about him the whole time he was gone.

You barely made it past the hallway before your knees gave out—figuratively, at least. You clutched your chest like you’d just been in battle. He kissed you and squeezed your ass. Not a peck, not a playful tease. Geto Suguru kissed you like he’d been holding back for years.

You needed backup.

[fertilize-my-eggs]

Dating simulator ch.1

A/N: since I've been on roll for creating a lot of fanfic, this is my new one!! Don't forget to check out the tags on A03 and I hope y'all enjoy this story ;)

Start the game.

Casually walking down the road, heading to the mall entrance as I smile softly.

I heard of a new game for my hero academia, it's far different from the others.

It is a dating simulator, it's for a mature audience, the characters are over 18 +. The players can choose the male or female lovers in this game.

I excitedly squealed a little loud as I already knew who I'm choosing… Going for the villain routine but more specifically Tomura shigaraki, he would be such an interesting complex character to see how he would talk to the player.

I bet it's neither a tsundere or yandere personality but I highly doubt it…. Maybe he'll act all grumpy but also soft, gentle.

I have always wanted to peg him ever since I saw him.

I bite my lips, I hear this game has neither the most nasty sex scene, different positions, or fan service in this game.

I'm so excited, I finally entered the game store as I quickly searched for the item.

Luckily it wasn't super busy in this store as I looked around for the anime related games.

I gasp in joy as I grab the game. (Exotic my lover Academia)

Such a perfect name for this lewd game, I sped up to the cashier as it was a bit expensive for this game but I didn't care.

I ignored him completely, seeing him raise a brow at my choice of game as I went on my day like nothing happened.

.

.

.

I started the game onto my computer as I couldn't hold my excitement, I had a giggle fit as the screen turned black for a few seconds then it's fully bright with soft pink and purple pastel colors.

Welcome to exotic my lover Academia, I read the tilt in its bold red colors as I bite my lips.

I get to create my own character, body shape etc, the graphics are so good and realistic.

Once I created myself, it was time to choose my anime lover!! I squealed in joy.

In this game, you can make your lover be as dominant as possible or a submissive as well, there are also options to make them both.

But I choose the submissive for shiggy, I love it when he's a whimper mess.

I clicked the start button as the soft Melody charms entered through my pink headphones.

I started off at the bar, reading my player’s dialogue.

( *Sigh* I'm so exhausted from being a villain, all those heros really did a number on me.)

As I watched the player enter the building to be greeted by none other than tomura shigaraki, he was sitting on the stool enjoying his drink as I saw in my player's pov.

He tilts his head while he takes a sip, it seems like he's bored.

It's cut to him on the screen with his arm crossed as he raises an eyebrow.

“ ….. hello (name), did you finish your mission? ”

There were three options to pick of.

(1. Hiii tomura~!! The mission was a success but I'm soooo tired. Could you help me?)

(2. Hello boss man, I finished the mission, it was rough but can you help me with my problem? ;) )

(3. I want you~! I miss you so much tomura~ mommy need some pampering. )

I cover my mouth as I giggle loudly, the last two may come off as desperate and bold but I'm highly curious or he may be rude if I told him.

I click the first one as he nods his head as he takes another drink.

“ good.. what do you need help with? ”

I read the text as I had a giggle fit.

(1. Mommy needs to peg you so badly, could you fetch me my favorite toy just for me, pretty boy~?)

(2. Could you eat my pussy on this counter, I really need the relief~.)

(3. Can you suck on momma’s titties, it's a little sore~. )

All of it was so filthy as I could feel my cheeks getting hotter by the minute, it was hard to choose as I picked the second one.

It's cut to black as it shows shigaraki has a huge smirk on his face as he puts the drink on the counter.

“ as you wish~ ” in seconds it turns black then it shows my player fully naked as tomura shigaraki on top of me, eating the player's vagina on the bar counter.

The loud slurping rings in my headphones as I feel my breath getting heavier by the minute.

It's my player's pov as shigaraki stares at the screen while sucking on her clit, I felt the blush creeping up as I quickly looked away from him.

I hear him whine out.

“ mhmm you taste so sweet, do you enjoy this relief (Name)? ”

(1. Yes more please~!! Mommy needs more fufufu~..)

(2. Ahh yes tomura~ you're doing a good job, mommy love you~. )

(3. Mhmm good boy fufufu~ )

I clicked the third one as I saw Shigaraki turn into a blushing mess as he continued to suck my character's clit off.

I slowly put my hand into my shorts as I watch the scenes unfold, it's so erotic. 

Tomura looked so soft as he gently fingered my character's pussy.

He tilts his head with a pout as he stares into my eyes.

“ mhmm mommy ~. ” his whiney voice echoed in my ears as I rubbed my clit fast.

The noises were too much as I reached my end, I pant heavily as I watched the sex scene continue on.

It cut from him eating the character out to him getting fucked in the ass as my self-insert pegging him hard and fast on the counter.

There was a way of controlling the speed and roughness. 

I click the buttons so fast as my character fucking tomura hard as his whines and cry echo out.

It's showing him on his back as my player hand rubbed his cock fast and hard.

“ ahhh mommy~ I-I’m gonna…. Gonna- ”

His loud high pitched cry getting louder as I watch the screen, he reached his orgasm as the semen hit the character's breast and landed on his belly area.

(1. *Make him eat his own cum*)

(2. *Eat his cum as you kiss his whole body and give him love bites.*)

(3. * Overstimulate him until he's begging for you to stop* )

I clicked the last one as the sex scene lasted for ten minutes as Tomura begged loudly for my character to stop.

I clicked the stop button as I realized it's close to 1am in the morning. Holy shit how long have I been playing this??

This game is such an addiction as I smile happily.

I click the save button as I exit the game, I can't wait to play more of this game.

God this is so exciting, I get up and stretch out, heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth, using the toilet getting ready for bed.  Few minutes pass by as I get into my comfortable pajamas as I knock out of sleep.

[breakonthroough]

Some thoughts about the differences between manga and anime in the story of Law and Cora.

The illustration for the title is not entirely on topic, it’s just funny how they played up the situation, expanding the moment with touching changes in Law’s behavior - he prepared breakfast for Cora. UwU

As we know, anime adaptations as a rule bring something new to the plot and events of the manga, expanding and complementing them. But sometimes it happens that some manga panels are subject to censorship, or are not transferred to the screen at all. There are many such examples throughout anime, but I am primarily interested, of course, in the story of Law and Rocinante.

In episodes 700 to 706, the anime creators added many additional scenes that expand on the characters and plot. For example, we were shown Rocinante's last fight with members of the Donquixote family. In the manga, as we remember, this was left behind the scenes. We only hear, together with Law, who is sitting in the chest at that moment, only the sounds of Rocinante being beaten by Doflamingo's officers.

The moments of their personal interaction during the journey in search of a cure for Law were also slightly expanded. We saw a little more cute smiles and caring from Rocinante. Especially in the final part of their story. I will never forget this sad and tender look from Cora.

However, to all the good things that happened, some ridiculous and even slightly inappropriate, in my opinion, scenes were also added. At least, it seemed to me that they distorted the image of the character.

For example, the scene of Law being thrown out of the window of the Donquixote pirate base again in second time - why was it so necessary? Wasn't once enough, like in the manga? Add gloomy and cruel senselessness to Corazon’s behavior, increase the degree of his ominous and repulsive aura? Or just for fun? Well I dunno..

Or the scene of Cora-san’s absurd panic over Trafalgar, who had fallen unconscious after his condition worsened.

Of course, I understand that at that moment he was really very scared for him and was upset that the rescue plan would fail, but why was it necessary to add this inappropriate comedy with falling from a cliff and spilling water? To show that Rocinante is clumsy? But this is already understandable, especially since it’s my opinion that he wasn’t THAT clumsy in reality, and, for the most part, he was putting on an act.

But that scene itself was quite tense and disturbing, and certainly not comic.

But the manga scene with Rocinante bandaging himself the wound inflicted on him by the angry boy Law was removed from the anime.

I can understand that they apparently decided to censor the “nudity,” as they did with both Levi and Erwin from Attack on Titan when they similarly removed the wound bandaging scene from the anime.

But at the same time, other characters appeared on the screen with a naked torso quite routinely, so I don’t understand this selectivity of censorship.

Of course, what speaks to me is solely a thirst for justice, and not at all a desire to see his handsome male figure in animation. Hehehe..

But, speaking seriously, this scene had a certain significance in revealing the characters, since it clearly showed what the Donquixote brothers had to go through in childhood and youth. Because, perhaps with a certain degree of probability, Doflamingo also hides somewhat similar scars on his back and shoulders.

Well, this scene also shows Doflamingo’s reaction to his brother’s injury, which is different from the anime version. In the anime, in the presence of other family members, he is quite sympathetic and caringly interested in what happened, how it happened, and advises Corazon to take care of himself.

In the manga, this scene is quite awkward in itself. They both flinch when Doflamingo catches a glimpse of his brother and his wound as he passes by in the hallway. At this moment, when they are "talking", Rocinante stands with his back to his brother, and Doffy looks into the room, and in this communication there is no sense of brotherly care, as it seemed to me. The expression on Doffy's face at this moment is more tense and dissatisfied than worried, which completely changes the entire emotional tone of this scene.

But I will end this mini-analysis on a positive note. Because it was anime episode that gave us that priceless smile of Rocinante. Since in the manga he practically did not smile at all with his real sincere smile. Animators just simply gave us such a priceless treasure ❤️‍🔥

Russian translation below 👇

Некоторые общие мысли про различия манги и аниме, касательно истории Ло и Коры.

(Иллюстрация для заголовка не совсем в тему, просто забавно, как обыграли ситуацию, расширив момент трогательными переменами в поведении Ло — он приготовил завтрак для Коры) UwU

Как известно, аниме адаптация всегда привносит что-то новое в сюжет и события манги, расширяя и дополняя их. Но иногда происходит так, что некоторые панели манги подлежат цензуре, либо не переносятся на экран вовсе. Таких примеров немало во всем аниме, но меня в первую очередь интересует, конечно же, история Ло и Росинанта.

В эпизоды с 700 по 706 создатели аниме добавили множество дополнительных сцен, раскрывающих персонажей и сюжет. Например, нам показали последний бой Росинанта с членами семьи Донкихот. В манге, как мы помним, это было оставлено за кадром. Мы слышим только звуки избиения Росинанта вместе с Ло, сидящим в этот момент в сундуке. Также немного расширили и моменты их личного взаимодействия во время путешествия в поисках лекарства для Ло. Мы увидели чуть больше милых улыбок и проявления заботы со стороны Росинанта. Особенно в заключительной части их истории. Этот печальный и нежный взгляд Коры я не забуду никогда.

Однако, ко всему хорошему, что было, также были добавлены и некоторые нелепые и даже чуть неуместные, на мой взгляд, сцены. По крайней мере, мне так показалось, что они исказили образ персонажа.

Например, сцена повторного выбрасывания Ло из окна базы пиратов Донкихота — зачем она была так нужна? Разве одного раза, как в манге, было недостаточно? Добавить мрачной и жестокой бессмысленности в поведение Коразона, повысить градус его зловещей и отбитой ауры? Или просто для прикола, как мне сказали на одном форуме? Ну не знаю..

Или сцена нелепой паники Коры-сана над упавшим в беспамятстве после ухудшения состояния Трафальгаром. Я конечно понимаю, что в тот момент он действительно очень сильно испугался за него и расстроился, что план спасения сорвётся, но зачем нужно было добавлять эту неуместную комичность, с падением со скалы и проливанием воды? Чтобы показать, что Росинант неуклюжий? Но это ведь и так понятно, тем более, мое мнение, что он был не НАСТОЛЬКО уж неуклюжим в действительности, и, по большей части, разыгрывал это представление. А ведь та сцена сама по себе была довольно напряжённой и тревожной, и уж точно не комической.

Зато вместо этого удалили сцену из манги с перевязкой Росинантом раны, которую ему нанес обозленный Ло. Могу понять, что тут видимо решили зацензурить "обнаженку", как, в свое время, поступили и с Леви, и с Эрвином из Атаки титанов, когда аналогичным образом убрали из аниме сцену перевязки ран. Но ведь при этом других персонажей нам спокойно показывали с обнаженным торсом, так что мне это непонятно.

Разумеется, во мне говорит исключительно жажда справедливости, и нисколько не желание увидеть его красивую мужественную фигуру в анимации. Хе хе хе..

Но, если говорить серьезно, то эта сцена имела определенное значение в раскрытии персонажей, так как показывала наглядно, через что пришлось братьям Донкихот пройти в детстве и юности. Потому что, возможно, с определенной долей вероятности, Дофламинго также скрывает похожие шрамы на своих спине и плечах.

Ну и ещё эта сцена показывает отличную от аниме версии реакцию Дофламинго на ранение брата. В аниме он в присутствии остальных членов семьи вполне участливо и заботливо интересуется, что случилось, как это произошло, и советует Коразону позаботиться о себе.

В манге же эта сцена достаточно неловкая сама по себе. Они оба вздрагивают, когда Дофламинго мимоходом видит брата и его ранение, проходя мимо по коридору. Общаются они в этот момент со спины, и братской заботой от этого общения вовсе не веет, как мне показалось. Выражение лица Доффи в этот момент скорее напряжённо-недовольное, чем озабоченное, что полностью меняет всю эмоциональную окраску данной сцены.

Но закончу я этот мини-анализ все же на положительном. Потому что именно аниме подарило нам ту самую бесценную улыбку Росинанта. Так как в манге он практически совсем не улыбался своей настоящей искренней улыбкой, а тут нам взяли и подарили такое бесценное сокровище ❤️‍🔥

[no-see-um-incorrect]

Yv  Acting AU PT 3

(this is pt 1)

(this is pt 2)

Slight NSFW warning⚠️⚠️

 Interviewer: this first question was submitted by @everything-redacted-and-others

(I answered the second question in the first part)

Interviewer: who forgets their lines the most 

Alphonse: Wow! What a tough question. I’m really going to have to think on this for a second….👀

Seth: Wh- don’t look at me like that!

Alphonse: Oh Kiss my candy ass! you know I’m right!

Seth: OK name one time! that I forgot my lines 

Sugarboo:  in the beginning of your birthday episode, when you and Alphonse were about to go beat the shit out of the goons and Charlie, almost All of the lines in the last episode of Campfire confessions WHICH YOU WROTE!

Alphonse: the conversation before I walked out of the bathroom in bittersweet, when you were in the recording booth for your werewolf special. Would you like me to continue? 

Seth: all right, ya pricks I get it 🙄

————————————————————————

Interviewer: these next questions were submitted by  @antipasto-the-theif

 Interviewer: Seth, what’s your favorite memory on set so far?

Seth: my favorite memory onset so far…..let’s see… OK I got one. it starts out Kind of sad. so basically.  our characters birthdays match our actual birthdays. and on my birthday Alphonse was out of town. You see He wasn’t supposed to be in my birthday video…so I was kind of upset…and all melancholy throughout most the day…until we’re filming and it’s the scene in the kitchen where sugar was supposed to be  the only one there and singing me happy birthday, and Alphonse just pops in!

Alphonse: did you honestly think I was going to miss my favorite cowboy’s birthday~

Seth: so somewhere, there is an outtake of me, spontaneously bawling my eyes out and running off camera to go hug Al 😅

interviewer: OK next question. So, Casper and Charlie, how many times was the prop weed just prop weed?

Casper: we are constantly high on set 

Charlie: like for real 

Casper: we both focus more when we are um…in the clouds..so Yuuri lets us

Charlie: and it’s not like smoked for six hours  before filming high..it’s more we split a special brownie at 5 AM and washed it down with a monster energy high. So we’re not like a danger.

Casper: but yeah, for the 420 video. yeah, that was real 

Charlie: BUT For my birthday, the brownies we were eating were normal brownies, and not special brownies because I was given some special birthday brownies, and wanted to eat them later after dinner..so I guess you could say those were prop brownies,

Interviewer: next question. Auron, the world wants to know the workout routine!

Auron: oh boy well I’m a father running after a toddler with a need for speed which pretty much replaces any sort of missed day at the gym. But other than that and other activities that may or may not involve my spouse…..it’s kind of embarrassing… when I was younger I wanted to be in the MCU and my mother had told me “well those kinds of actors have really strict workout routines. If you want to be like them, you gotta get that down”…… so after much research that’s what I’ve been doing since about 16 years of age…captain America I’m coming for your Brand

Interviewer: onto the next one. What’s the worst blooper you know of, Sugar-Boo?

Sugarboo: 😈 there’s a scene in bittersweet and it’s when Seth finds Alphonse about to essentially kill Charlie, and alphonse grabs Charlie’s face and…..he’s like really aggressive about it so when he grabbed his face, Charlie let out the most….porn star like-moan I have heard come from an individual…And we had to take a five because nobody could stop laughing!

Interviewer: onto the next one. Which cast mate is the least like the character they play??

Seth: I want to say Auron

Alphonse: yeah, yeah I can get behind that

Charlie: I mean, Finn swears like a sailor but other than that….yeah, I’d say Auron 

Seth: Yea Auron in real life is a very sweet man  with a Darlin spouse, and a daughter he adores 

Alphonse: yeah, nothing like the cold Dom boss that you see on the screen.

Charlie: he’s a real sweet guy and he takes time to listen to everybody and help everybody. He helps me with line delivery, helps Faust with costume designs, he helps Jackie with photography when it comes to these snazzy thumbnails we’ve been doing recently.

Alphonse: he’s a lot more like a really helpful and quirky art teacher versus a mysterious and dominant boss.

————————————————————————

Interviewer: the next three questions are from @oceanlue

Interviewer: what was rooks reaction during the shower part?

Rook: 🤭

Auron: you are a shameless Thot my dear~

Rook: A THOT is a Admirer without Action I AM A WHORE i act on my thoughts

Auron: here we go🙃

Rook: SO if you don’t know. I think this was mentioned before BUT…he’s my husband in real life 

Auron: I am. I am your husband

Rook: So when I saw him come out of the Dressing room in nothing but a towel….I Started Catcalling him like a construction worker🤣

Auron: IN FRONT OF EVERYONE no less

Rook: And Then Yuuri gave us the script for the shower scene and I Said OUT LOUD-

Auron: “AWOOGA!” quite enthusiastically…which I found odd because you see me like that EVERY DAY

Rook: Never gets old *Sips coffee*

Interviewer: did auron or rook trip on set

Auron: Yes I did! I completely tripped and fell into Alphonse And I’m so sorry for that!

Alphonse: IT WAS FINE. But that an’t the first time you tripped You also fell into the wall because you stepped on ya own Boot laces 

Interviewer: did auron actually cry in the car ride home?

Auron: yes that was the one time I cried in a scene that Didn’t end up in an outtake

Yuuri: I kinda felt bad too because I didn’t realize he was getting choked up until we finished and he asked for a tissue!

Auron: it’s not uncommon for me to get emotional during scenes like that. They’re lucky that I only got choked up. I would’ve full on sobbed if the scene went any longer. 

————————————————————————

Hope you all enjoyed 

Feel free to ask “interviewer” questions 

I do prefer reblogs and replies, but you can send an ask too if you want 

Make sure to check out pt 1&2 I love making these

I was not Abel to get to all the question I apologize for that🙏

[therantsofawriterrr]

The Umbrella Academy Final Season: My Version.

Part One: We Also See Each Other At Birthday Parties

Overview: After getting back to a normal world with no powers, we see the Hargreeves trying to adjust to normal lives which somehow seems a lot harder to navigate. TW: uhh, emo discussions and stuff, mature language, sad people overall, some storyline changes because I'm writing it as the characters are playing it in my head, also long ass fic, I'm sorry. Pairings: Luther×Sloane, Diego×Lila, Allison×Raymond, Klaus×Dave, Five×OC, Ben×Jennifer A/N: Sooo, the fourth season made me want to forget it. Like I was literally thinking that I wanted Sir Reggie to use his memory-erase thing on me. This is for me and many others who wanted to see a happy ending, so uhh, here goes. I'm sorry if any of my imagination goes against fan canon, just think of them of my own hcs. also, im kind of using this to practice third person omniscient, so constructive criticism is appreciated. Btw, THIS HAS SPOILERS (potentially) because I'm also using some of the scenes from the season, stuff that I liked and all that. So, here goes ig.

Masterlist

What happens when you put seven superheroes into a normal world and strip them of their powers? It's an interesting question, a loaded question to be precise.

Well, that's what has happened now, with the Hargreeves siblings living their respective lives, trying to deal with the fact that they just had to live without their powers. They felt good about it, yes, but in some ways, it also posed a few difficulties.

Six years later, they were pretty well-adjusted. Or so it seemed.

Let's go to Number One, shall we? Luther Hargreeves, the self-proclaimed peacemaker of the family. At the moment, Luther was snoring in bed, drooling onto the sheets as he dreamed of a different life. A life with his wife, Sloane. A white picket fence, two dogs, and maybe even kids? But then, the scene changed. The kugelblitz appeared, taking his wife and world away, waking him up in a frenzy.

As soon as he did, he sat up, reaching out for her instinctively, only to find nothing but cold sheets. Tears started welling up in his eyes as a lump lodged itself in his throat, his hands going up to his face and his shoulders started shaking as he sobbed. This was pretty much like a morning routine, wake up, cry because of overwhelming grief, then get up and have some coffee.

The goofball of the family had turned into a depressed lover looking for his lost love.

As for Number Two, Diego Hargreeves and his wife, Lila Hargreeves, were quite literally living Luther's dream, with three kids and a wonderful house. But, suddenly going from crime-fighting and assassinations to dealing with kids, in-laws, a shitty boss, and the housewife life would be hard for anyone, don't you think?

Every day, Diego went out to work as a mailman, trying to get the mail to their owners with perfect precision. But, he failed, for his power was the reason for his perfect aim. And every single time, he felt insecure about himself. Now, he could get out of the truck and just deliver mail like a normal person, but then, this is Diego we're talking about.

Lila, on the other hand, has book club every other week. What the family didn't know, is that there is no book

They were a cute family, but they did need to talk to each other about some things.

Number Three, Allison Hargreeves was living with her husband and daughter, Raymond Chestnut and Claire Hargreeves Chestnut. While Raymond was happy living in a world where racism was a lot less than before and worked in a 9-5 job, Allison was struggling as an actor, trying to make time for family and land a good role. She also didn't really talk to the family except Klaus because she was afraid that they wouldn't want her, but she did regret her actions and felt lonely in that aspect of life.

Number Four was Klaus Hargreeves, the weirdest out of the group. It's those weird antics that also made him the most adorable in the group. Granted, he was a bit of a faint heart now that his immortality was gone, but the vibes were still there. But there was still the fact that he was three years sober, a fact that enabled him to wake up every morning with pride. Staying in Allison's basement, he had bubble-wrapped whatever surface he could, but being in charge of taking care of Claire finally made him feel useful in a way, so in short, he didn't really have any complaints.

And now, with his favourite brother Benerino coming out of jail, he could finally make him realise that he has a family as well!

Number Five, who was fine with being called Five, was working in the CIA, mainly investigating a cult that dealt with memories of another timeline. He used to dress up as a man named Jerome, putting on a fake mustache and a generic outfit to fit in. He clocked in early and left late, making people think that he was just another workaholic who didn't have anything to do at home.

But, there was a different reason. A reason that he wouldn't even tell his family. The PTSD of the previous many years, that he'd decided to ignore had finally started getting to him. He couldn't sleep without having nightmares of another apocalypse. The only way he could sleep without dreams was if he tired himself out to the point of passing out. Which is what he did.

Number Six, Ben Hargreeves was getting out of jail for being embroiled in a crypto scam. Granted, he had pretty much scammed too many people into losing too much money, but then why do people get involved in these markets if they don't keep in mind that it's risky? He could never understand people, really.

Now that he was out, he was free again, and he already had a plan to get away from the family once and for all. He didn't think he deserved to stay in a family full of love.

And finally there was Number Seven. Viktor Hargreeves, who was pretty much the strongest out of the group. But now, he just saw himself as an emo fuck-up who couldn't have a proper relationship, neither with his family nor with his partners. Building a life for himself in Nova Scotia had been hard, getting his bar business to take off had been harder, but what was hardest, was to actually commit to a person.

But then, could anybody blame him? He had lost too many people that he loved. There was Sissy, there was Harlan and there was the whole thing with Harold Jenkins. He was starting to think he needed to stay single for a while so that he could process his feelings and then put himself out there again.

But, even though they would do anything else, they did think that they needed to be there for Diego's first daughter, Grace's birthday party. So there they were, with smiles pasted on their faces in an arcade, where the children screamed while Diego and Lila yelled at each other.

"Diego! What are you doing?" She yelled into his ear, making him cringe.

"Getting the cake ready!" He yelled back.

"Piñata before cake! Go hang it!"

Diego went ahead and hung the fake horse with all the love he could muster and more. Though, Lila couldn't help but stare at him as he did, wondering how he knew that she had forgotten the piñata. She had called Diego up at the last moment in a panic, telling him about how she forgot to buy the West End one, and instead bought the East End one. Diego had just assured her and told her to breathe, telling her he'd handle it. He'd shown up with a vibrant horse, pretty much like the one she'd bought, but still different.

"What the hell are we going to do with two piñatas?" she'd asked, starting to panic again.

"We'll give the other one to Luther, babe. We both know he needs to get some of that anger out. Don't worry too much."

Diego stalked over to Luther carefully, handing him a bottle of beer and leaning back against the bar of some game, children shrieking with happiness.

"Hey, big guy," he said, internally wincing at Luther's answering grunt. "Where have you been these days? It's been what, a month since you'd called?"

"Just been busy," he said, taking a swig of the beer. They both knew how he'd been busy, but neither had the will nor the strength to discuss it. Diego missed him, but he sort of understood where he was coming from. He knew he'd go crazy if it had been Lila who had gotten lost after everything. He was pretty sure he would have been the reason for the world ending a fourth time.

Whereas Luther was mentally checking the wool-stringed map hanging in his house again and again in his mind, trying to figure out just where Sloane could be. He was hell-bent on finding her, to have the happy ending that they both deserved. He couldn't bear the thought of him living on while she died.

Elsewhere, Klaus had just entered the place with Claire and Raymond, with gloves on his hand and every other precaution he could think of.

"It's just a kid's party, Klaus. What's the worst that could happen here?"

"Oh, too many things. You of all people should know how dirty children can get, Raymond," he drawled in the typical Klaus fashion. Raymond only chuckled, shaking his head as Klaus cooed in excitement at the various candy stalls and selfie booths that were placed around the place. He had definitely been a weird addition to the family three years prior, but also an adorable one. His quirks made the house livelier for sure.

Allison, on the other hand, was sitting in her car, with her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. She was trying to convince herself to start the fucking car, to get home and practice her lines, but her eyes kept flitting to the rearview mirror, where the neon sign was glowing brightly. A sudden knock made her jump in her seat, and she turned to see Viktor, who she thought would be the last person to approach her.

She rolled the tinted window down to meet Viktor's cold but warm eyes.

"You aren't coming in?" He asked, voice frosty, but with a tinge of sadness in it.

"No, not really," Allison said, guiltiness lacing her voice. "I probably shouldn't ruin the party."

"Grace is your niece, too, you know," he said, looking at her firmly. "It's her birthday, and she deserves to see her aunt. Plus, the others care about her just as much you and I do, so they won't make a fuss."

Immediately, when she entered the place, she regretted it. Because while Diego and Lila were a bit warm towards her, Luther's gaze turned stony before he turned away. She wanted to run away and hide, but Raymond's comforting hand in hers gave her a little strength.

On the other side of the room, Ben was talking to Five, the one Umbrella sibling that he could tolerate to some extent.

"What was it, again? Ponzi scheme? White-collar fraud?" Five asked him with a smirk.

"Crypto exchange. Web 3.0, baby. Feds only went after because I'm an outsider. A fucking maverick like Elon.

"Well, that and you bankrupted a 100,000 people."

"The whole thing was like a witch hunt. I think I'm just gonna stay home now that I'm out."

"Yeah, well, say what you will," Five said with a small appreciative smile. "It's still good to have you back."

Klaus seemed to spawn beside them suddenly, putting an arm around Ben's shoulders. "Hello, Benjamin."

"Get your hand off of me, I don't know where it's been," he said with irritation lacing his voice, but Klaus was unconvinced. Even if he wasn't their Ben, he was Ben, and there was no one else that knew him better.

The party went on with the same vibes; somehow, it was the only Hargreeves party that's been normal. Usually, it ended up getting very chaotic and weird.

But then, all of them knew that they actually had fun in those parties.

Another A/N: I originally planned for this to have ten chapters, but nvm every chapter will get too long, so ig we'll just see how many parts this thing will have. Likes, reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated, please tell me if the transition from one character to other was too confusing or hard to process, I do that sometimes. Also, I do have a lot of changes, according to what I've seen on the tua tag, so I'll try to make stuff up too haha. Anyway, tell me if y'all like this or not, and tysm for reading

[lokorum]

Pls rant about non romance cole…he’s my favorite character in anything, ever and it feels so sad that we never got to have a deeper relationship w him. Like the mechanics/possible lore of having a romance with a spirit are so tantalizingly interesting but no…also doubting we will see him in veil guard which leaves me so so broken …

*looks at their pile of unpacked feelings about cole*

so ૮( ◡̀_◡́)ა where to start....................

first of all uh! im not good at talking! that's why i draw phphp but i'll try my best to resurrect my memories from 2014 and share it with you!! sorry if it will sound weird, english is not my native language! 

well WELL from the begining then. i remember spending hours  more like days hhhh thinking about how weird and cool the recruiting scene with cole is? later when he is already with the inquisition, our party is either on guard around him or kinda treats him like he is helpless and needs special attention or guidance or something like that? demonising someone like him or framing them as in need of help are like textbook behavior ofc and im not here to be a hater, i just noticed it? moments with solas and varric fighting over him like a divorced couple are super cute for sure!!

but i remember being confused because excuse me, out of all of them, this guy??, this feral bat that is chilling on the ceiling like it's a lounge-zone inside Lucius' head, created especially for him?

he is confident. also a little bit nervous, a bunch mysterious and just ghostly cool. but also confident. (im not saying this confidence is not misplaced sometimes btw x) he even tells you that if you'll leave your head you'll die! what a jokester (҂ ꒦ິヮ꒦ິ)

and the whole quest with templars and envy are soooo horror coded, i love it!! it looked a bit silly, sure

(even after so many years im not able to get rid of the image in my brain phphphp) 

but it's still a very interesting quest!! dorian is ✨the bestie✨ but i'm always picking templars bc the implications of the story are just so good

1. its placed at the beginning of the game and your character is probably confused and anxious and dont yet worked out the routine of how to deal with their new title\powers + not every inquisitor character would want to be in the spotlight.

imagine you suddenly got yourself into position where a lot of people looking up to you, listening to what you saying, placing their hopes on you or waiting for you to fail? this is terrible! id 1000% just jumped out of a cliff!!! a small one, but still 

2. you meeting the guy who basically came from a place you now have unlimited access to.

he is: a) almost as confused as you are b) possibly came to this world without knowing consequences of that decision c) along the way he is figuring out how to be himself in the environment that is nothing like where he used to live. wow thats just like forced immigration *nervous laugh*

3. and let's not forget that you are meeting him inside your head and you can say to him "you look familiar".

dont know about you but apparently i dont need much to start screaming ¯(ツ)/¯

also can i just spend the moment to say that this is three (3) identical dialogue options??????????

the screenshot is from here btw

how awesome would it be to be able to figure out stuff together? to find comfort in someone, with someone who barely experienced it this way? to build on your strong sides? like "hope" for cole and i guess "unhingedness" for the inquisitor? i bet they would ground each other easily as well: cole distracting inq by being unintentionally mischievous and inq would have a notepad with cole's "firsts ____" or they would just read together. oh im such a sucker for hurt\comfort\some things cant be healed stuff uaaaaaaaaa

ALSO THE "FORGET" THING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the drama the horror the tension!!!!!!!! you can fight me over this but heres the thought:

cole being so stressed that he is erasing\being on the edge of erasing the inquisitor's memories??????

i got the feeling that cole's confidence in the concept of "help" is, among other things, makes him being able to zoom in on something borderline obsessively? or vise versa - dismissively, not noticing "it hurts, its not for the better"? he thanks you when you promise to kill him, he cries when you do not. i swear this man (─ ‿ ─)

+quick addition bc im not entirely sure: so if i got it right, the anchor makes the inquisitor "too bright" to read? so among all the people we know about inq is the one that cole can't truly empathise on this lvl? on spiritual lvl you might say lsdkjflksdjflkj sorry!!!!! but jokes aside,this is like the perfect ground to build both comforting stories 

"someone from the party notices that cole is hanging near inq before inq do, and when asked he explains it by saying something like "dry warm skin. the air is stilled with quiet, easy to breathe. i followed the shining whispers and then i was followed no more" with the most plain face possible? "

and "today for lunch i have glass" kind of stories, like "the inquisitor is cornered and possibly bleeding and probably on the verge of passing out and they know that situation is bad and no one should follow/find them, "it's better to wait it out and deal with it on my own" kind of clown behavior. so they laugh tiredly at how pathetic they are, maybe remembering something similar from their childhood, remarks from their sibling for ex., and just trying their best to not think about how they need cole's help, cole's presence. the sense of safety that comes when he is around" 

uh!!! that wasnt neither quick or painless so i'll go make a tea wait a second please

im back!! so since i talked about the forget thing i must confess - i dont really like cole's personal quest???? again, im not complaining or anything but i remember feeling kinda empty while playing it? like deep inside me, there was something sad, but it was so far away,i coudn't even feel it properly?

both human and spirit versions of his ending made me feel like the distance between you and him lengthened, and maybe you could do something about it before but now? this "something" is missing and you're lost and can't even tell for sure if theres was a chance to do something in the first place? and cole just moved on? its super logical considering he is not a romance option but phphph so, i rarely romance someone in games, partly bc rpg tends to be a little horny and im that kind of ace who is not interested in this, partly bc i tend to pay attention to non-romanceable characters, so when i started to explore last da:i dlc and i saw cole having gf i was like "well ouch".

imagine your inq has a crush on cole but they never were able to say it clearly?

mb it was a melancholic slowburn, and your character was going through too much and felt like burdening cole with their problems would be unfair?

maybe they tried but the timing was wrong, the words felt stupid, and their hands felt too dirty, too guilty?

oh anon its been ten years and its still huuuuuurts!!!! if you following me for a while you know that im an edge lord in poor disguise so its not surprising for neither you or me that i ended up rumbling about inexplicable sadness and crushing existential guilt, but sorry for that anyway!! if anyone would want me to talk about something specific, or to draw something - im here, staring at the wall, listening to cole's banter :') thank you for the wonderful question tho, it was more than just nice to return back to this ship. im so agreeing with you about cole being the fave character from everything, but i also understand that this could mean being very unsatisfied with the way he was portrayed at some points or just with the fact that characters like him are rare so im sending you warm and tight hugs and a little sketch!! <3 

let's collectively accept the fact that dav gonna be a beautiful mess, we gonna love it (passionately), we gonna be hurt by it (not surprisingly) and COLE FOREVER WILL BE THE BEST DA CHARACTER EVER IM NOT GONNA CHANGE MY MIND FIGHT ME

[girlacticrailroad]

us, episode 9

Please, Us, be good for their sake...I’m begging you...

It’s time I took a new approach with Us. From now on I won’t hope for any more than a few cute moments per episode. If I stop thinking of it as a story, and just think of it as a conveyor belt that delivers me a little box of EmiBonnie sweetness wrapped up in a bow every once in a while, maybe I’ll start to enjoy this show again.

Even when things happen in Us, it feels like it’s treading water. In this episode, we find out Grandma Bua has cancer, and Pam keeps the news a secret from Dokrak. Meanwhile Rak comes out to her mom—whose name is Orn! I finally remembered!—but either forgets to tell Pam about it, or thinks it doesn’t matter. Then Orn comes out to Rak, makes out with Nene’s hot accomplice, and cuts off her husband’s—okay that does not happen, sadly, but she does finally stand up to Khem. We find out Kawi has been taking care of another one of his half-sisters, and Pam and Kawi open up to each other during an unusually emotional dental appointment. Nene does her routine of showing up out of nowhere and saying something vaguely menacing about ten times this episode. (It’s actually only three, but it feels like it happens a lot.)

Hark! The plot cometh.

I wish I could say there was any juice in all this melodrama. Apart from her touching coming-out scene, Dokrak has nothing to do this episode but be cute as a button. Which, great, but surely Bonnie can do more than that. There is finally the faintest glimmer of tension in our main couple when Pam lies to Dokrak about the cancer, but I don’t really know why she does it, and as a device to create tension, it doesn’t work all that well. She was already lying to Dokrak, now she’s just...lying a little bit more. It doesn’t really raise the stakes. Kawi is just the worst. I don’t mean as a human being (which he is not), I mean as a fictional character in a story he is insufferable. If I have to sit through one more scene of someone telling Kawi what a nice thoughtful selfless young man he is, only for him to furrow his brows and softly mumble, “No...you’re wrong...I’m...a monster...” I will lose my damn mind. I’m sorry, I could not care less about whatever secrets he is keeping anymore.

Bro, do something or shut the fuck up.

Khem is another case where, if this were a documentary instead of a fictional drama, I wouldn’t mind him—a lot of abusive fathers in real life are this soulless and vapid—but as a character, he is just boring. The man has negative charisma. Every single time he is confronted, he responds like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. Again, not unrealistic behavior, but no fun to watch. Earlier in the series, I was excited by the possibility that he might not get a redemption arc. Haha, thanks, monkey’s paw. Instead of a redemption arc, we got a villain so monotonously awful I’m not even excited to watch him get taken down anymore. What’s he going to do, throw another tantrum about it?

Says the man who slapped his daughter in front of a houseguest lol.

Yet again, Nene is the only character pulling her weight plot-wise, but she’s less interesting without Oat bringing out her vulnerable side. Here she’s in full-time villain mode. Mim does her best, but it doesn’t help that she’s already had about a dozen scenes like this already. And her sinister plot still hasn’t been put into motion?? Girl, I hate to sound like a self-help grifter, and yes you are worth so much more than your productivity—but babe revenge is your nine-to-five. You can literally spend the whole day just knocking back wine coolers and sowing chaos. How long can it take to orchestrate one little family’s destruction? (Especially when there’s enough dirt on Khem to start a hobby farm.)

Look at these girls...don’t they deserve a good show? Won’t you be good for them, Us? Pretty please...??

The standout character from this episode is Orn, who gets a chance to mend her relationship with her daugher (although I think she’s let off the hook pretty easily given her passive complicity in the abuse of her children) and works up the courage to defy her husband. I just wish she had someone a little more interesting than Khem to defy—it’s not a bad scene but it’s not as satisfying as it could have been. Umm that’s about it. There was some nice music in this episode? Overall I like the soundtrack. And the cinematography’s not bad. I just really wish there was a story here. More than anything, Us feels like a cuteness delivery system—and, lately, a pretty clunky one.

[cerseimikaelson]

HIII CERSEI GUESS WHOS BACK (YOUR FELLOW WOTG FAN) WITH MY THOUGHTS ON COTG:

It is such a funny book, my fav jokes being the 'shrek, fiona, donkey' joke and an underrated classic in my mind, the scene where percy is like "There was screaming, crying and running in circles, and that was ✨just me✨" when talking about blanche's story (its so brutally honest and funny in a vulnerable way, which I will expand later on with the vulnerable part of it). It had so many iconic moments

It was a very low stakes, slow plot. You can tell Rick wrote it for the experience of reading our fav characters again (adding on to the fact that rick was made to write it by disney as additional marketing for the show, you can tell the plot wasnt thought of much), and ive seen people get mad over it, id love to know what you think!

This is a bit of a touchy topic. I've seen the people on the internet calling percabeth abusive with the constant name calling and the physical ??violence?? ( i obviously dont agree, but thats another topic), but something I've observed that everything that anti percabeths pointed out was toned down in the book?? Another post confirms that the majority of seaweed brains in the book was from percys pov and not annabeth actually saying it (like when hes looking at her expression and saying things like 'she looked like she was trying to say,....') and also when it comes to physical 'violence' (it feels so wrong to say bc i cant find another word lolol), the only things i found while rereading were 'lightly pinched my arm' and 'nudged me with her toe' which is wayyyy more toned down than ricks usual 'swatting my arm' or 'punching me' or 'judoflipped me'

One thing I admire so much about this book is the way he's written the characters vulnerability. percys way more open when he talks about crying whereas in the books its brushed over a lot, which is something the lovely @demigods-posts pointed out. annabeth tearing up when sally compliments her on something small like a cupcake, grover scared of percy and annabeth leaving him, and ofc percy. i saw someone interpret the river god scene as a ptsd induced panic attack, and i admire how rick has written it with so much angst, but still kept it light for the tone of the books.

another thing i love is how the characters dont revolve around percy as a main character (which is probably something rick learned while writing the tv show). annabeth has hobbies of her own, she's in her dream school, she is a busy woman and good for her. grover regularly goes to camp, and has his own conflicts with his gf and stuff. sally and paul are on their own arc with the baby on the way.

the fluff needs a special mention. every moment is so cute and sweet, there are way too many instances, especially with grover and percy which there was a severe lack of in hoo. them turning to seven year olds, percy and annabeths daily night iris message routine, the domesticity of the jacksons family

As usual, I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions too, im so happy i get to talk about it with you :))

Heyyy friend, how are you? Thanks for the ask!

Since you mentioned her, I LOVED Blanche. Iris is one of my favourite goddesses, so it was great seeing her. And I loved watching a god actually be ignored by their teenage child for once instead of the other way around. Blanche being a propel rebel with the monochrome was golden. (also, pink hummingbirds? lol)

It is obvious there wasn't much in terms of an actual plot with real structure, but it was fun and light-hearted and it does set the foundation for something in the future. Not all quests need to be high stakes, all-hands-on-deck, the world is coming undone. I liked watching the trio have semi normal lives (meeting up for smoothies after school) instead of constantly being on hero mode.

I genuinely had no clue people were upset about Percabeth's interaction in this. But seriously, violence? Did those people forget Annabeth judo-flipped Percy in New Rome, or was it okay then because it was a grand romantic gesture? How is punching someone in the arm to tell them they are being an idiot (provided you don't turn them black and blue of course) abuse? Percy and Annabeth are in a relationship, obviously they are going to be tactile with each other. Not to mention, people often nudge each other in real life and nobody shouts abuse then. I am rambling now but honestly this is the first I've heard of this and I have opinions.

I know Rick wrote the PG version, but can we talk about Zeus literally objectifying Ganymede at brunch and nobody but Hera (and Percy silently) batting an eye? Honestly, I am not a hardcore Zeus hater (although he is an a**hole) but the way Rick writes him he has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I officially volunteer to be Hera's divorce attorney.

I really liked the idea of Annabeth having a secret fan club and having dinner with Sally, Percy and Paul every night. That was excellent.

I am already brainstorming theories about what the third book is going to be. Does it matter that WOTG isn't even out yet? Absolutely not. I kind of want it to be about Athena because her interactions with Percy are always 10/10, but that probably won't happen.

Feel free to send me asks about your favourite gods and goddesses, any headcanons you may have or anything you wish to discuss about PJO. You can also find me on ao3!

[uva124]

WRITING RANDOM IDEAS THAT I WANT TO PUT IN MY AU BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW OR I'M NOT SURE :D

1-Introduction of Haedus , Nembus and Naos:

See this I'm still debating on this because it's the first impressions of my main characters so it's very important, as I said my movie is not intended to be the best Disney movie that commemorates their legacy, no, I don't really have those intentions, in fact my intention is that it also looks like a parody like Enchanted but with touches of the “Princess and the Frog” movie lol, so the beginning I imagine it like the one in the enchanted movie, only Haedus is the “helper” of the random princess I'm going to put around, the little princess is like those classic ones (similar to Snow White), Haedus arrives as if she was a fairy godmother and helps our princess in her journey, we see that Haedus' personality is more joking and is even sarcastic with the princess in a mocking tone, but in between we can see that he is quite kind to her since well, he is literally fulfilling the role of “helper”, he is also accompanied by the two little stars Naos y Nembus and we can appreciate their relationship as brothers. Continuing with the story everything develops as a classic fairy tale, and in the end the prince stays with the princess and blah blah blah, only here comes the mental image that started this:

-Basically the princess and the prince start singing and dancing while the 3 stars watch everything, but Haedus is seen with eyes of boredom as if this is all routine, in even in one scene I imagine that the prince and the princess accidentally make the 2 little ones almost fall down (or something happens to them idk) and Haedus rescues them to proceed to look at the couple with eyes of wanting to kill them internally but tries to smile, and when already the musical number is going on too long, Haedus says:

“Yeah very nice and all, but you can finish now? we have to go -_-”

I'm still struggling to write this, because I still have to establish Haedus' past and how that explains why at the beginning he acts annoying with Asha and how he looks a bit uncomfortable or surprised to be helped for the first time with his siblings.

But with this scene I posit that in all the time Haedus helped the princesses, even though he and his little brothers do everything can to get her happy ending, they in the end seem to just forget about them when her find their prince.

I'm not sure about this either because I also don't want this scene to leave the message that “all princesses are only interested in getting a man” NOP, I don't want to give that message at all. So yeah, probably I'll deleted this escene.

2-The dynamic of Asha and Haedus (or rather their evolution):

This came to me mainly when I was watching tik tok and a scene from the movie “The Little Prince” popped up, and the dialogue goes like this:

“To me you are but a little boy among hundreds of thousands of other children, I don't need you and you don't need me, to you I am just a fox among thousands of other foxes.”

Later….

“For me you will be unique in the world, and for you I will be unique in the world.”

…..I'll probably have to watch the movie again or read the book, I'd really like to see if I can get inspiration from this.

3-Potential Angst:

You know the song “Monster” from the album “Epic the musical” ? well I plan to have Haedus be considered a monster even among the other stars of his world, and I also imagine a scene where either Magnifico and Amaya hurt Naos or Nembus in a SERIOUS way and just seeing Haedus say “Then I'll become the monster” just feels great to me you know?

Tik tok is giving me a lot of angst ideas, there is an audio from “The last of us” series where Joel loses his daughter and …….. do I have to explain how this can relate to Haedus and their little brothers Naos and Nembus?