#the black women get called aggressive if they speak too much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-fondued · 2 years

Text

Kinktober 2022 | Ghost - Backstage Pass

Papa Emeritus IV’s favorite Sister of Sin ends up at a Ghost Project hometown concert, surely they can’t get up to too much trouble in ten minutes?

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV x Reader/Sister of Sin Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut (duh), quickie smut, squint and there is fluff I guess, PWP A/N: I actually threw this together in like 3 hours which is a record for me, its short and sweet and I had full empty brain time today so this is just a little fun Drabble. I hope you like it!

LINK HERE FOR THOSE WHO PREFER AO3

The base of the speakers radiated in my chest, heartbeat stuttering along with it. Various lights and pyrotechnics flashing along with the rumbling beat of the song that was playing.

Today had been a rare treat for some of us Siblings of Sin; we had been allowed to dress in plain clothes and come to our local Ritual with Papa and his band of ghouls. Papa had called the abbey himself, as they were still out of town on tour, insisting he tell me himself. This was the last stop before he would spend the next six months at home for the fall and winter holidays. I was glad he’d finally be back where he belonged.

“Promise me that you will come, Sorella?” He mumbled into the phone, my cheeks blushing and looking to see if the Sister in the office could hear him. “I have a surprise planned for you.”

How could I refuse when I missed him so much? Especially since he had a surprise planned for me.

Now I had never been to a ritual before, at least not since long before Copia had become Papa, and I had forgotten the intoxicating feeling of being in the crowd. I had managed to be situated right in front of the stage, almost dead center. One of the ghoulettes had caught my attention when we had arrived and told me Papa had saved me a spot in the front. I was a little embarrassed that they had set aside a spot for me, but once most of the siblings had dispersed in the pit of the floor most people had been distracted by the lone woman who stood directly in front of the main stage.

I watched Papa in his element, he was dressed in his formal black mass robes along with his Mitre. My eyes glassed over as I watched him dancing, toying with the crowd as he sang, teasing the ghouls as they played. I felt my face flush scarlet as he aggressively thrusted along, women in the crowd around me screaming wildly.

Part of me flared up with jealousy, how dare they think they had a chance to win over Papa’s affections. Quickly though, and especially when he caught my eye and gave me a smirk and a wink, the feeling left me. I knew deep down, even now after all we had done together, Papa was in there and he only had eyes for me. No amount of face paints and extensive wardrobe changes would change that. The lights went dim for a moment, the crowd going wild, before a familiar thrum of the guitar and ring of the cymbal. This song was my absolute favorite, even though it had originally been Terzo’s song.

I can feel your presence amongst us You cannot hide in the darkness Can you hear the rumble? Can you hear the rumble that’s calling?

The lights flared back on, Papa now on stage in a whole other outfit this time, and the crowd around me went wild. My jaw hung open slightly, breathing becoming shallow, as his eyes locked on mine. I felt mesmerized by him, his whole demeanor shifted. It felt like he was pulling me under the water like a siren. He prowled forward towards the edge of the crowd, crooning at them but I felt like he was only speaking to me.

I know your soul is not tainted Even though you’ve been told so Can you hear the rumble? Can you hear the rumble that’s calling? I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

I leaned forward on the shallow barrier in front of me, the crowd surging slightly forward to try and get closer to Papa. I couldn’t help but smile up at him, dazed and lovesick as he sang.

A candle casting a faint glow You and I see eye to eye Can you hear the thunder? How can you hear the thunder that’s breaking? Now there is nothing between us From now our merge is eternal Can you see that you’re lost? Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?

Papa’s eyes locked on mine, he wouldn’t dare…not tonight with our siblings of sin here too would he? He stepped to the edge of the stage and kneeled down as he extended his hand towards mine, a wicked smirk on his face. I reached out to him, standing on the tips of my toes, and he took my hand. I could feel the warm feeling of his hand through his leather glove. His mismatched gaise was locked on mine, his white eye seeming to faintly glow in the lights of the show. The women around me were screaming, phones recording this moment in the ritual.

I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

He crooned to me, eyes never leaving my face, and I blushed furiously. Papa’s fingers brushed against the inside of my wrist as he placed my hand flat on his chest, his heart beating wildly under his ribcage. The concert seemed to slow down, the lyrics being the only thing I could hear along with the sound of my own heartbeat. I couldn’t look away and I didn’t want to as my Papa’s adoring eyes flashed with something deep and heated. I felt a thrill slide down my spine at the thought of what that meant for me later, knowing full well how he was when he came back to the abbey after a successful ritual.

As quickly as the moment came, it was gone. I felt his hand begin to slip from mine, my head feeling full of cotton balls as the frenzy of the moment faded, and I watched him press a kiss to the top of my hand. I felt him murmur mio amato into my hand before slipping away to continue the show for the crowd.

Can't you see that you're lost without me? I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

I felt the crowd pulse around me but my head felt fuzzy as I watched Papa work his magic. If anyone had asked me before all this if the rituals were actual magic, I would have laughed. Now however…I wasn’t so convinced. I felt like a spell had been casted on me and not the harmless ones Primo had used in the abbey gardens. No, I felt flushed and oversensive; like someone had set fire to every nerve ending I had. Almost embarrassingly I noted that I felt like I was more turned on than I had been in my entire life. I squirmed, thighs rubbing slightly, as I watched the show go on. Like I had always known, Papa put everything he had into the shows and this was no exception. I sang with him, I danced with the crowd, and I felt my desire for the man beneath the sequined coat and papal paints grow stronger and stronger in my belly. Before I knew it the show had come to a close, barely registering the final bow of the night as the crowd began to disperse.

Hazily, I began to follow the other siblings of sin toward where the abbey buses would be waiting to bring us back. A hand wrapped around my wrist and tugged gently, my head whipping around to see who it was. It was one of Papa’s band ghouls, Swiss if I remembered correctly. I had spent some time with them at rehearsals and various black masses since Papa and I were practically glued to the hip when he was home from tour.

“Papa is asking for you, Sister.” He smiled mischievously at me as he tugged me again, his canine teeth inhumanly sharp between his lips. “Follow me.”

“Oh, well I don’t want Sister Imperator to think I’ve gone missing…” I started to say, still following Swiss along as we moved against the crowd towards the backstage access.

“Don’t worry, the ghoulettes already went to let her know you’ll be riding back with us.”

Somehow that didn’t make me feel better but I knew better than to argue. I followed Swiss as we made our way backstage, he slipped a lanyard around my neck, before flashing his own to security. “She’s with Papa.” He teased while I flushed scarlet.

We walked up to a door with Papa’s name written on a whiteboard, Swiss knocked twice before walking away.

“Have fun, kitten.” He called over his shoulder, waving slightly as he slipped behind another door further down the hall.

The door opened slightly before I was pulled in quickly. Before I could even get a peep out of my mouth I was thrust back against the door, hands gripping my hips roughly as lips crashed against mine, teeth practically clashing together. My eyes locked with Papa’s and I smiled softly into the kiss, whimpering as he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth and bit down roughly. I pulled away slightly, tilting my head away from his, and he kissed down the column of my neck.

“Papa…” I sighed, my hands coming to wrap around his neck and fingers tangling in the ends of his hair. “You wer-ah!- you were incredible…”

He had begun to suck small love bites on my pulse point, a shudder running down my spine as I rolled my hips against him. He was pressed against me firmly, preventing me from moving away from the door. He pinned me with his hips against mine, his knee roughly shoving my denim clad legs aside to be able to rub his thigh against my center. I let out a soft cry at the friction, my head thrown back against the door.

“Sorella.” He groaned as he pressed his growing erection, trapped behind his stage trousers, against my waist. “We have ten minutes before someone will come looking.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice.

I kissed him roughly, tongues coaxing each other as I moaned into his mouth. Neither of us were used to me wearing street clothes and the novelty of Papa being able to slip his fingers under the hem of my t-shirt and run his bare fingers against the soft planes of my stomach, muscles clenching as pleasure pooled in my core. I shuddered as his hands slid from my waist, across my hips to reach behind to grab at my ass. I felt his sneaky fingers unbutton my jeans, pushing them down my hips, and he helped me kick off my sneakers before ripping the jeans off my legs. With what felt like inhuman strength, Papa lifted me and I automatically wrapped my legs around his narrow waist. He pressed his weight into mine and helped pin me to the door while his hands wrapped around my thighs. He groaned deeply as he ground himself against my center, the texture of the laces of his trousers rubbing sinfully against my clit. I cried out into his mouth before rolling my hips again, desperate and needy for more.

“Papa…please.” I whimpered as my hands reached between us and I started to try and undo the laces of his trousers. “I need you.”

He reached into his sequin coat pocket and pulled out a small knife, slicing the laces with little pause. I had to hold back a bark of laughter when he looked at my face, his cheeks flushed beneath his papal paints.

“Sometimes you have an emergency and do not have time for laces…” He replied sheepishly before his hands came to cup my ass again.

We rocked against each other, gaining little breathy moans and groans as we did. Papa’s fingers pulled my panties to the side, running his fingertip up and down my dripping slit. I shuddered in his arms, head thrown back against the door with a thump. “You are so ready for me, Bellissima.”

“Papa…” I groaned, nails digging into his scalp as my fingers gripped his hair.

Suddenly without warning I felt him ease into me, a hiss slipping past my lips as I felt him stretch my cunt wide at this angle as he slid deep inside me. He peppered my face with soft kisses as rolled his hips, slowly at first before both of us became impatient.

“Fuck me.” I hissed, burying my face in the crux of his neck as my arms wrapped firmly around him as Papa began to thrust more aggressively into me.

“Such naughty words from my Sister of Sin.” He teased, his breath becoming pants as he worked us towards our own pleasures. I felt his fingers snake forwards and brush against my clit as he drove into me. I cried out, cunt clenching his cock tightly as pleasure shot down every nerve in my body. “Satanas, Sorella. You will be the death of me.”

“Stop talking. More kissing.” I grunted, rolling my hips against him to get more friction on my clit as my orgasam began to pull tight in my belly.

Papa let out a laugh before kissing me firmly, breathy moans mixed between us as we frantically chased after our individual releases. Papa’s thrusts became more erratic, hips circling slightly each time to brush against the super sensitive spot inside me, and after a few more brushes of his fingers against my clit I felt the rope holding me over the edge snap. I buried my face in his neck, muffling my cries of his name as best I could in his shoulder.

I wasn’t sure if it was the haze of the concert or if it had been just too long since he had been on tour and away from me but I felt my entire body shutter against him, clutching him so tightly to me lest he disappear, and I couldn’t help the words of love that came spilling from my mouth.

Another few erratic thrusts, all rough and slamming me back against the door, and Papa came with a groan. I felt his cock twitch as he lazily thrusted through our afterglow together before he stilled completely inside me. I sighed, content in the moment, as I kissed him gently. He practically purred as my hands brushed his hair from his face.

“I have missed you very much, Tesoro.” He sighed, his head nuzzling into my chest.

“I’ve missed you too, Papa.” I smiled as he took my hand with one of his own, kissing my knuckles. “Let’s go home.”

#Ghost #the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader #Papa emeritus IV x reader #papa emeritus 4 x reader #Papa emeritus iv #kinktober 2022 #my writing #fanfiction

76 notes · View notes

isthatmanahimbo · 2 years

Photo

Today we bring to you perennial fan-favorite Terry Jeffords!

Terry Jeffords is one of the main characters of Brooklyn 99, a Mike Schur and Andy Samberg project which aired on Fox in 2013, which moved to NBC for its final seasons from 2019 - 2021. Portrayed by Terry Crews, Jeffords is first the sergeant then lieutenant of the eponymous 99th precinct, and has variable roles throughout the series' tenure, most often filling the niche of mother hen adjacent to Captain Holt's stern father figure.

Given of course that he is played by Terry Crews, we can be assured that this man is beefcake central. Although it is often hidden under tasteful pastel shirts and ties patterned en vogue, Jeffords' physique is remarked upon at least once per episode, with the occasional episode centering around his stature. In one notable instance, he is unable to perform a undercover operation and must train Jake Peralta in his workout routine so that he may take his place – what actually takes place is a montage of Peralta desperately working to make up the lack in his physical prowess before giving up. This happens multiple times throughout the series. In another instance, Peralta takes a running leap at Terry, causing him to drop his coffee in favor of catching Peralta. When asked if it was any effort at all to hold up a grown man, Jeffords replies that it's about the same as holding a couple of grapes. Indeed, the entire precinct knows what's up with Sergeant Jeffords – and if it were not clear to the audience, we have regular reminders from Gina, for whom it is a running gag to attempt to get Terry to remove his shirt. Queen Gina speaking for all of us, as usual.

Now if you have been following this blog for a while, you will know that one thing that we value just as much as having the skill to make one's pecs dance (which we see Terry do onscreen multiple times), it is a family man, and Terry's a family man to a T. His introduction to the series and the first major character arc that he goes through has to do with the anxiety he feels as a new parent of twin baby girls - what would they and his lovely wife do if he were to fall in the line of duty? He overcomes this anxiety with the help of Gina and Captain Holt (and much departmental mandated therapy), but his love and respect for his wife and daughters shine through in every episode thereafter, and quite often carry over into all of his other relationships with the team. Terry could easily be played off as the stereotypical aggressive black man, but the show's narrative emphasizes that Terry's heart is as big as his muscles, and that he values his wife and all of the women in his life just as much as he does the yogurt in his fridge.

And it is clear that his comrades value him all the same. This author would hesitate to call a married and devoted man a slut (although we do learn that he and his wife conceived their children to Beyonce, so mad respect for that game), but we do know that Terry is a major Chad, having earned the respect of everyone in the 99 - indeed his team's reliance on his opinion of them often leads to some comedic miscommunications, such as when Amy and Gina discover that Terry is writing a childrens' book for his twins and that the two female leads are inspired by them. They bicker and argue over what this means until Terry delivers a rousing speech in the elevator about how they should come to trust and respect themselves a little bit more (which veers into charmingly awkward territory as the elevator ride only commences when Terry has finished). And Jake, main character that he is, has never had a bad thing to say about Terry that he hasn't immediately corrected.

If Terry is to have a flaw in himbodom, impeccable specimen that he is, it is that he is too intelligent. It would be easy to write it off as simply detective-savvy - the man is the sergeant of a major precinct in the largest local police organization in the world, after all - but we see demonstrated time and again that not only is Terry a genuinely intelligent man with a lot to offer in many academic pursuits, he's actually a huge-ass nerd. A notable instance is the case he insists on solving for the protection of a JRRT-GRRM-esque author that Terry has idolized since his childhood, using the book's lore and the author's own professional history to solve the case. Indeed, resident bookworm Amy indicates in one episode that if anyone in the precinct were to solve a particularly hard word-puzzle, it would be either her or Terry. Bold words from someone with more than a dozen organizational binders.

This author's ambivalence cannot be overstated when we say with certainty: that man is not a himbo.

Total Himbo Score: 21

#is that man a himbo?#false friends! rating: not a himbo #brooklyn 99 #b99 #terry jeffords #terry crews

33 notes · View notes

randomleafoflove · 2 years

Text

Lan Wangji’s point of view of Wén Wuxian and the year during lectures.

Unlike what Wén Wuxian thought, Wangji was not a repeat student of shufu’s lectures.

It was sect policy that main family disciples do not attend the lectures early (or late), but with their age group. That is, the lectures that have more prominent disciples from other sect during the two years they are eligible between the ages fifteen and seventeen. This policy allowed Nie Huaisang a repeat year without damaging his reputation (too much). In polite society, his failure the first year was ascribed to being too young for the lectures.

But while Wangji had not sat in on shufu’s lectures, he had read the material covered during the lectures.

Honestly speaking, Wangji had not paid Wén Wuxian any more mind than any other guest disciple (even if he was a Wēn) until he’d argued with shufu about the proper method of dealing with resentful ghosts and been punished for it.

And then the irreverence he showed when talking about the rules he copied under Wangji’s watchful eye. Like the rules weren’t there for a reason!

It seemed like Wén Wuxian was just like his disrespectful Wēn sect compatriots.

Then he painted Wangji a picture, a portrait of Wangji himself. For some reason, receiving it made his heart beat fast. And instead of leaving it crumbled in the wastepaper basket to be burned, he smuggled it to Jingshi, smoothed it out, dated and wrote down who’d painted it, and put it in the same flat box as the small paintings his a-niang had sometimes slipped him. When he was a child, Wangji hadn’t known to date his mother’s paintings, but when he was ten, he’d written his mother’s name in the back. They were a small reminder that his mother had existed outside the anonymity of Madam Lan, wife of Qinghen-jun, mother of Lan Huan, Xichen, and Lan Zhan, Wangji.

Wangji didn’t think further on it, even if he found himself watching Wén Wuxian much more often, offering aid to a young widow in Caiyi, across their shared table in the library, when he was so lost in thought he forgot where he was.

It was getting harder to ignore Wén Wuxian and walk away when he called Lan Zhan! in that excited way of his. But he was a Wēn, and xiongzhang had said that Wēn Ruohan had been acting aggressively lately, taking over the smaller sects around Qishan. Xiongzhang had said Wén Wuxian was likely a spy. The servant who cleaned the guest disciple dorms had found a weird talisman outside Wén Wuxian’s door. She’d copied it, and the copy had been give to the talisman master of the Lan sect to analyze. He couldn’t give a definite answer as to what it did, other than spout out a number.

Giving him bunnies (his favorite animal) because he hadn’t expressed his opinion on animals had been a coincidence. Giving him black and white cutsleeve bunnies could not be a coincidence. (The Lan guest disciple uniform may have been white, but Wén Wuxian always wore a long, black, sleeveless robe over them.) It made him wonder if maybe Wén Wuxian actually meant it when he called Wangji beautiful and pretty and cute and handsome. It was nothing he’d never heard before, even if Wén Wuxian was the first to say it to his face.

Wén Wuxian, for better or for worse (probably worse, said shufu’s disapproving voice in his head), was his… something. Had he been anyone but a Wēn, he’d have at least allowed himself admit his fascination with the other boy, and probably had xiongzhang’s approval, but Wén Wuxian was a Wēn. Wangji was resigned to rooting out his feelings for him (after the lectures, please let him enjoy the strange warmth he felt whenever Wén Wuxian smiled at him until the end of lectures, he’ll go back to only feeling filial love and filial piety for his family, he promises). Xiongzhang didn’t approve of Wén Wuxian, shufu even less so. But they hadn’t seen Wén Wuxian playing with bunnies or argue passionately for women’s right for self-governance.

Wangji remembered reading the law books Wén Wuxian had collected for their references for the essay shufu assigned for while he was away. He remembered connecting the dots with the laws and his a-niang.

Sometimes he wondered if his a-niang had come back as a ghost and the elders had just exterminated her spirit, to keep anyone from figuring out what had actually happened.

Because Wén Wuxian had him questioning the narrative he’d been told time and again as a child: a-niang was a bad woman because she’d murdered one of their senior teachers.

Even if it all had culminated in a-niang killing one of the Lan sect’s senior teachers, what were the circumstances leading to it? The woman he remembered wouldn’t have killed anyone without reason.

There was a disconnect between the laws of the land and the morality Wangji had been taught. For example, rape, while morally reprehensible, was only punishable if the victim was of a higher social standing, while those of “equal” and lower standing got maybe a slap on the wrist or suffered no consequences. But women were never equal to men in the eyes of the law. And if there were reparations made, they were made to the woman’s familial guardian to make up for the woman’s lower value on the marriage market. The only exception was the rape of a Buddhist nun, which always lead to execution, at least on paper. Wangji was learning nothing was as simple as the books and sect rules made it seem.

During their bunny filled afternoons, Wén Wuxian would pose Wangji moral dilemmas and then they’d debate about the proper answer. The first one had been a hypothetical about a poor man with a sick child stealing medicine from a wealthy apothecary. The following one had been about ladies of the night. Then preemptive punishment.

Wén Wuxian had thoughtful answers for each of his own questions, and eventually explained that they were questions his shijie had asked him over the years of his studies.

Wēn Xiachen was a frequent character in Wén Wuxian’s stories, filling the role of mother, sister and teacher all at once, and if he was to be believed, was an incarnation of Guanyin.

Shufu and xiongzhang’s opinion on Wēn Xiachen couldn’t have been more different, describing her as ruthless and cold, deadly with a sword and accurate in her archery. Polite, yes, but frostily so. Which was better than her brothers Wēn Xu and Wēn Chao, who were barely within the parameters of good manners, but less amiable than Wēn Qing, Wēn Ruohan’s medical genius niece and an all around pleasant if reserved individual.

And after all this, Wén Wuxian had the nerve to earnestly make a promise to stand with justice and live without regrets, all the while looking like Wangji’s spring dreams come to life. And then turn around and ask Wangji to spend the evening alone with him on a picnic watching the lanterns journey up and away. How was Wangji supposed to say no?

Shufu saw them and decided to assign Wangji more work. Not punishment, just involving him more in the running of the sect.

Wangji saw Wén Wuxian mainly at the lectures and the occasional free afternoon. His free time was eaten away even more by his self-assigned punishment for his lustful thoughts and frequent spring dreams featuring the other boy.

Winter brought new challenges, like Wén Wuxian’s pink nose and red cheeks.

Then it was over. Spring festival over and done with, closing ceremony had been held, the guest disciples were packed and departing in droves.

Wén Wuxian was one of the early departures because of the length of his journey. He had given Wangji one last painting and a wistful smile and flown off.

Wangji announced his desire to enter secluded meditation.

It was time to root out his feeling for Wén Wuxian.

Dedicating his life for his sect was enough for shufu. Surely it’d be enough for him too?

#mo dao zu shi #grand master of demonic cultivation #fanfic #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wen wuxian #cloud recesses #morality vs law #owe it all 'verse

4 notes · View notes

papirouge · 2 months

Note

Make no mistake Candace will embrace zionism again if Palestine falls and Palestinians are forgotten. She is by nature simply a contrarian - she will ALWAYS take the other side regardless of what that side is. If Tate suddenly becomes mainstream and accepted, she will inevitably speak out against him. If feminism goes underground, she will be a feminist. Her grift is to be loud and go against the popular for views and attention. Her husband from what I’ve seen is pretty submissive (very funny how ALL of the married “trad” girls I know of that pander to the right and claim they only love aggressive masculine and traditionally dominant men never marry them, they always find the quiet submissive men that are house husbands that don’t really work) so nothing he will say will matter to her either. Her running back or trying to run back to black spaces is because she doesn’t want to be attacked now for being a black woman now that she’s vulnerable. Yet she still wants to bring white peoples feelings in those spaces too so she can stay on racist white people’s good graces because that’s her nature - to always to be the opposite. Black spaces are for black feelings, she knows this yet she will do the opposite anyway. All for attention. Just a pathetic person

She reminds me of an old friend I had. My friends and I started a gaming group for just ourselves, just black girls gaming and having fun without any worries. It was so much fun except when my ex friend tried to invite and get her white male friend involved. We told her no, this space was for black women only. She called us racist and sexist while her white friend just moved on He never cared about joining since he wasn’t even a gamer, it was all her idea. We had to block her and move on too 💀

Wait a minute- are you talking about the black gamer girl discord group drama ? Are you aware this drama came over tiktok?? 👀 Why am i only half surprised that a fellow black girl shoved this white dude there though ? 💀 Not that white men trying to invade black (female) space is unprecedented, but as I always said, Black women are EXTREMELY male identified (probably more than any other race) so I'm not shocked this black woman did the most for her White male friend.. TRAGIC.

YOU ARE SO SPOT ON FOR CANDACE 🎯

It's so confusing to see her talk about her husband and how she chose him because he was her match intellectually speaking when he doesn't strike as such 💀 He's definitely not stupid, but I feel like there's a major dissonance between how she "sells" him, and reality. Their dynamic is very loopsided : he only talks about her, while she's -very publicly- taking all the attention. Sorry but there's nothing less submissive or traditional in this marriage dynamic. Even the way her own camp talks about her doesn't reflect any idea of feminity - they talk about her like an attack dog. A smart, eloquent one, but still a dog. When Shapiro and his Daily Wire clique turned against then dumped her, nobody felt sorry for her. Even those who defended her knew she was the Strong Black Woman™️ and would ultimately get back on her feet. Candace herself is so energyetically masculine she didn't remotely think about leveraging her femininity to grasp some sympathy (emotions) by saying how she felt betrayed or left out. Nope. Like a soldier, she got back on her feet and started campaigning to fund her next venture.... If anything, Candace is the posterchild of feminism. Nothing about her screams traditional or feminine.

And it makes sense bc Candace is so bigger than life that she would hardly be able to find someone to match her level - especially among conservative men who absolutely don't come off as the intellectual type.... To reach that goal, she would've had more chance with Asian men since she said before her boyfriend all her earlier boyfriends were Asians (Korean and Japanese) lol

And yeah, that's exactly it : she's a contrarian. That's why her opinions have no consistency whatsoever. Like, you can't blame feminism and try to reinforce traditional gender roles onto society......while defending a lover boy/pimp/porn producer/fornicator aka Andrew Tate.

That's why contrarian are so politically stupid btw. They're often lumped with the right, but rightoids at least have a set of value tenants that won't change depending on whether they're popular or not. But contrarians? They'll hate things to the point of cognitive dissonance. We witnessed it A LOT these last few years. For example, tpeople who were against the c0vid shot and (rightfully) called out the msm propaganda and lies to push it, often used the fact of being against the "popular opinion" (=getting the vaccine) as a proof they were right. Well it was pretty shocking to see a lot of them turned out to be big supporters of Israel/Zionism, and sided with the very same msm they bitched against non stop a few years before. Their primitive contrarian mindset made them believe that because they were against Palestine (= the popular opinion) they were right once again..... And they have the same pattern with Musk, Trump, Take and every problematic/controversial figure they think unabashedly supporting means they're doing right against the MatRix - or whatever it is.

And this issue isn't only with right leaning people : it was extremely disappointing and disgraceful to see people support the TikTok ban in some wack intellectual superiority move, and (indirectly) campaign for the same US government they were shitting on FOR MONTHS over what it's been doing in Palestine. Mind you, they are the same crowd saying shit like "yOu aRe nOt iMmuNe tO prOpagAndA uwu" when anyone with a IQ higher than room temperature would grasp that this ban was a way to CONTROL TikTok which is the least biased media platform when it comes to social commentary or news coverage (especially with what's going on Palestine right now). But nooooo, those idiots refuse to look at the bigger picture and want it shut down because of a handful of dumb tradwives and pro ana mentally ill girls. PLEASE.

I've said it and I'll say it again : nothing you see on TikTok is unique to TikTok or happens because of TikTok. I'm a millennial, I'm old enough to remember that social contagion/reproduction the most destructive trends always happened since the drawn of the internet. In 2002 it was on message board, forum, etc...in 2024 it happens on social media - not only TikTok. If anything, those big SNS corporation centralizing the lot of internet communication help having a better outlook on social trends. Instead of having to patrol gazillions of obscure group chat with no mail adresssed required to post shit, the special services only have to lurk on social media 🤷🏾‍♀️

Oh and one last thing: 99% of the shit ppl complain about TikTok I never see it on my dash. TikTok algorithm is INSANE and manages to spoon fed you what you like 9 times out of 10. So there's 2 possibilities : either 1) they're the problem and should stop entertaining content that harms their peace 2) they're lying and just rehash the stuff other people say without checking by themselves if that content is *that* pervasive on that app.

#answered #candace owens

0 notes

cielsosinfel · 3 months

Text

For once I'm cross-posting a Dreamwidth post here lol. I wrote way too much about the one and only book I finished so far this year, so tossing it into the reading log tag.

CW: non-descript discussions of sexual assault and antisemitism (both separate from one another)

The last book I finished was an anthology of fairy-tell reimaginings: Black Heart, Ivory Bones, edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (Avon Books, 2000). This was actually a random used bookstore find- I was once again looking for anthologies with Tanith Lee short stories, and there happened to be three different ones edited by these two authors- this book; another book in the same series called Black Swan, White Raven, and an anthology of fantasy erotica titled Sirens and Other Daemon Lovers. I really lucked out in all of these having Tanith Lee in them, and some other authors I'm interested in. I haven't started the other two yet, though. (I also just a few days ago found ANOTHER book in this fairy tale series, Ruby Slippers, Golden Tears at the same bookstore... would have missed it if I hadn't asked the clerk to check their Tanith Lee stock lmao.)

So, about this anthology:

The Tanith Lee short story in Black Heart, Ivory Bones is the first story in the anthology, and a reimagining of Rapunzel- a prince, who is putting off returning from campaign, because he does not want to return to his father who is coping with grief by obsessively fixating on heroic tales and legends, meets a girl living at the foot of a ruined tower in the middle of the woods. I didn't like this very much at all, to be honest, though there's one passage from the king I like. But one thing that stood out to me is another example of a pattern I've noticed in Lee's books: women- usually women who have already been raped- being able to just tell if a man is a potential rapist or not; men asking women if they aren't worried he's a rapist, only for the woman to tell him they would know and he doesn't have the look of one.

It's a trend I've seen throughout multiple of her novels and short stories at this point. The idea that all women can tell, based on a man's appearance and the way he carries himself and speaks, whether he will rape her. Even her most aggressive or stoic heroes have some innate quality of their being or their appearance that tells women he's safe, as far as sexual assault goes. And there's a lot to unpack there, a lot of long-existing societal biases that it just kind of reaffirms (because certainly there is a very long history of people thinking rapists and other sexually violent individuals have a certain "look" to them.) But I was also thinking about what a power fantasy this is, in a way- to be able to look at a man and know at a glance that he is safe, trustworthy, that you can desire him and know him desiring you back is not a risk. Especially as a survivor of sexual assault! What a superpower that would be.

But yeah, so that's the Tanith Lee story, mostly unremarkable. A lot of this anthology didn't stand out to me, tbh. Neil Gaiman has a short poem in it that I thought was pretty awful lmao. There's a lesbian retelling of the Red Dancing Shoes fairy tale, "The Red Boots" by Leah Cutter, that I liked- the prose is snappy and I thought the author used it to get across the energy of country dancing very well! I liked that there's no Happily Ever After resolution either- despite all the possibilities the protagonist has at her fingertips, with this dance-loving woman who is like her and mutually into her, in a place so hostile and lonely for women like them, she still can't stop treating dance as a competition she has to win. And so she will never be free of her shoes, and she'll never be able to settle down into a life of shared peace, bliss and love.

The last story that stood out to me was "The Golem" by Severna Park. The book opens to a pogrom decimating a shtetl in historical Poland, and the main character, an older woman named Judith, watching her husband Motle, the rabbi of the village, be gunned down by Christians. The shtetl is massacred, and Judith escapes into the woods with two other older women, Nekomeh and Moireh. They're reeling from the trauma they just witnessed, the grief, and the danger of being caught and killed, so decide to band together to try to make it to Leva, another much larger Jewish village outside Cracow. Judith has a dream the first time she sleeps following the massacre, where her husband tells her to make a golem to keep herself safe. What she forms out of the mud is a golem that takes on the exact appearance of her and Motle's long-dead daughter, Reva.

This is a short story but it packs in so much- surviving great violence and loss and yet not being allowed any reprieve before you're go go going to avoid even more violence and loss; the bonds between women who face misogyny, patriarchyt and violence both from within and without their communities and culture; the grief of a wife and of a mother who needs to learn to embrace and let go; the need for violence in defense vs violence as revenge and whether it would really make you better, improve your situation. I thought this was a very good piece of writing.

I really liked the ending:

"With her thumb Judith drew a trembling diagonal next to the Met and added short vertical strokes at the top and at the bottom.

Aleph. Mem. Tav.

She took a step and stumbled where the bank went soft. She fell to her hands and knees where the golem had vanished, tried to get up and stopped.

Spring flowers burst from the fertile dirt between her fingers. They pressed themselves up in green buds from under her knees. They sprouted around her feet, blooming in the sunset, dense and fragrant, trembling in the evening breeze.

Judith made herself stand. If the very earth had risen for her against its will, perhaps there was a place in the shadow of Cracow's walls where an old woman could seed the ground with new things. Not revenge. Not fear. Maybe not even peace, but she could do something.

And this time, she could not find it in herself to be afraid."

So that's the only book I've finished since 2024 started, and even then I kind of skimmed short stories that I knew I wouldn't be into. I'm still working through Lee's Kill The Dead (more like still working through health problems that have made doing anything very difficult), and I also started Kristine Kathryn Rusch's Heart Reader a day ago- I'm already halfway through, it's a very fast read, and I have a lot of thoughts about it that I've kinda posted elsewhere lol.

I've also been speeding through Final Fantasy IV DS. I keep meaning to post about it here but then I forget, I'm just so exhausted. I haven't played it in a couple days actually. It's one of those games I never had the patience to play as a kid, the SNES version at least. If we ever had the DS version I don't remember it, but I remember thinking the SNES version was suuuuuper frustrating to play lol so I didn't bother... But I'm enjoying the DS version a lot! It's definitely very frustrating with the boss battles, that octomammoth fucked me up. I'm enjoying Cecil's character arc, and I'm eagerly awaiting Rydia, Rosa and Edward coming back to my party. I'm enjoying the homoeroticism of Cecil and Kain's friendship turning into a horrific violent antagonistic mess- Kain going from standing up for Cecil and risking angering the Baron to argue for Cecil's sake, to Kain fighting with Golbez to be the one to kill Cecil... Also the whole mind control thing with Golbez is super hot, though I wonder how much of it is totally mind control and how much of it is Kain willingly going along with Golbez because of Rosa, it feels kinda unclear in latter cutscenes. But yes, the characters are fun, the localization script is very fun, the art style is endearing, and the game play is fun once you get into the rhythm of it. (I am also hardcore following this guide to make things much easier on myself lmao.)

Maybe I'll try to put down my impressions when it is not 12am and I'm not running on extremely little sleep.

#reading log #oh theres also some ff4 thoughts at the end there but barely i just dump all my ff4 thoughts on discord tbh #mine poste

0 notes

hospitalterrorizer · 6 months

Text

diary71

11/21-22/2023

tuesday - wednesday

listening to arab on radar, made cookies, read some julia kristeva.

not as much as i would have liked. her book called black sun, about misery. she says melancholia a lot, but something feels distantly embarrassing about saying that. saying i am melancholic. i am, though. it's so obvious it's painful, which is why it's a bit of an embarrassing word to say. i'm excited for her chapter about beauty, in the book. i want to read more of her stuff, so i dled some pdfs, might check that out tonight. anyway:

today i woke up annoyed, because the thing that got me out of bed was being told about how my friends got confused, because of the one guy in there who i find really frustrating, because he is making my friend depressed, gently, or not gently, but it's not aggressively, i guess. he was like, it's next week right, and other guys were like, is it?? and then they were like, well maybe it should be. my friend's gf was like, well, you should all try to come by tomorrow! which got a lot of them to be like: okay. the only one who seems like a maybe at this point, is the annoying guy. i am still expecting him to show up, though. he is saying he's going to be cooking w/ his family for thursday, but who knows, he's not a good cook, he cooked for us on his birthday (a kindness, certainly (strangely, he talked to me extensively that day, that day only, about how much he wanted everyone to be together always, all the time, and how much pleasure he got from getting everyone together "like this"(lends credence to the idea that he really wants to be the center of whatever group he's in))) and when he cooked he burnt all the meat, overdone, a friend said it was quote unquote dog-food. so i think his family would actually be happy to lose his hands.

i made 31 cookies, 33 technically but i ate 1.5, gf ate the other half (too full).

i'm still looking forward to tomorrow. i'm going to bitch abt the annoying guy with my friend's gf, i'm sure she'd be happy to complain a little, since he tried to fuck her plans up, or not tried, he just kind of almost did, by stumbling in the dark. everyone was like, making me so mad, when they were like, maybe we really should do it next week. it felt like a bunch of men deciding that when women make plans that they aren't central to, they can freely ignore them and decide what would make for better plan-making. one said that it'd be easier to plan if it were next week, but this has been a plan for about a week, already, it feels like at least. maybe less? it's just casual, though. i guess i gave myself something easy to do, with the cookies, compared to other things people might cook.

anyway i want to post some dolls and then sleep:

@_godog_ hijikata haruna

i wonder if her name is her actual name or if a chosen name based on tatsumi hijikata, the butoh dancer/ pioneer. it would fit, aesthetically, the dolls are right on the edge of corpselike, i would like to put special attention to the recent works with dolls that have these nacre eyes. they're so dead, and so like cataracts, but still intone something beyond or before death, not lifeless, just beside the void. it gives voice to the experience/ thought that one speaks it, or is a vessel for that nothing to pass through, a perfection written with lightness, i also quite like what must be the earlier dolls with extremely off kilter / askew eyes, also near death, but also near the to the erotic experience, also dissociative, distant, it reminds me of being places and doing things i didn't like but also had no way to imagine excusing myself from, so i was just like, okay.

also, all the hands, they are between searching and articulating pain. arthritic and curious. (and the toes on the one with exposed feet, really special detail work across all the digits)

either way, they are really beautiful to me, i quite love her work.

freak's circus

some of these skew a bit too trevor brown for me to want to post here (unfortunately i like some of his stuff, because i guess i look at it and have the stupid, wow, girl with surgery equipment looking crazy, i love that, response (he is so clearly a gross perv but i guess i excuse it in certain artists and not others (that's fine though because i don't think i'm ever excusing pedophilia like i feel like i'd have to w/ trevor brown (i don't think these dolls are pedophilic, though, so)))) anyways, i'm shocked i never saw or heard of these dolls anywhere, they're quite cute, and pretty. they just kind of lean on the whole creepy cute thing (all these dolls do) but these ones are much more willingly the kind of creepy cute pop art that can either become very bad or be very good, i'm fond of it. it's like so near bad taste it's kind of lovely/intoxicating, like the weird amputee dolls, it's an externalization of a cluster of feelings or ways you can feel like you are seen in such aggressive manner, i guess if you are one to read it that way, it's compelling no matter what. another reason i guess i'm so stricken by it, is the tension between perfection/the pristine, wanting terrible things to happen, and real malady, subtle bruising, illness, wanting to be tortured, being tortured actually, and needing to be beautiful, and that impossibility, all projected onto a toy, also remains compelling for me, in particular the conjoined twin dolls connect. the fish stomach one is simply very stunning to me, really really beautiful, and also silly and simple, it's stepping the line of good taste in certain ways, it does not have any restraint, none of these do, all excess all the time, everything at full volume, subtlety isn't absent, it's revived from a corpse though, killed and brought back by all the noise, it exists in the (dis)harmonies and nested thoughts happening as you are blasted by that image, sneaking many things in, dirty fantasies and the worry over the fantasies all the same.

ofc the mari shimizu feeling thing w/ the anatomical venus belly cutout w/ something religious feeling placed inside instead of organs (the sacred is the bodily??? gaspppp) is cute. i can't tell if it bothers me when anyone but her does that. i'm in favor, i suppose, because it is such a pretty/cute idea, to me.

@sekisyoku_metro

these ones really caught my eye, as where the last creator leans very hard into the kitsch/pop art area, and the first feels so heavenly almost, corpses stuck in a threeway of transcending, rotting, and still living, returning to themselves, or having never left, these really are the most corpselike and grotesque without being actually ugly. the first doll here, has a stomach as rough as the moon, it resembles io to me, the body is the color of a corpse left in a sulfuric lake, the face is that of an angry god. the noh mask features are quite insane, these dolls are maybe the most physical i've seen, or they immediately strike me as physical, heavy. the one missing her arm, she is less impersonable in her face, but she still remains strange, uncanny. i also quite love the desaturated pink ribbon as a mote of viscera. somehow more effective than anything grosser, it feels, it gives a sensation in my arms, of the tendons quieting after an execution.

anyhow, uhh, what else did i do, today. i tried redoing vox for another song, i think it's almost there, need to go back in and do a couple lines probably, i want some parts that are like girlier sounding i guess, no better way to put that. and then find a way to mix the vocals a little better, maybe just low shelf some stuff out. it can be quieter too, listening to arab on radar, it's not like the stuff i want to be like is really like, upfront vocally.

another song i think it'd be good to keep in mind:

youtube

i think maybe next super short song i do i should let myself use a synth sound that's really obvious, instead of these guitar thingies, just give myself like, a break, with mixing. i think it'd be easier.. . but who knows. i love to #fuckeverythingup and #dotoomuch (earlier in the blog, when i talk about subtlety revived, life poured into its mouth by noise i was also talking about something i think i do and #lovesomuch)

anyway i have to sleep soon. i get so much more talkative here when i ready anyfuckingthing. it's crazy. i have to make myself do it a bit every day. it made me write a little too. nothing substantial (substantial right now has to be me going in and working on the structure and slotting things together for the story) but doing anything is good. it keeps my mind working.

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!

#Youtube

1 note · View note

imthebadguyyy · 3 years

Note

maybe something like interviewer asking her sexist questions and the boys stand up for her , after that interview she feels insecure and the boys comfort her . that's just an idea you don't have to write it !! <33

I hope you like it, and I'm so sorry about the delay 😭 I couldn't find my footing with this one, and I hope it's what you wanted ! Have a lovely day 💙

The One Where They're There For Her

Pairing - One Direction x Reader (6thmember!female!reader)

Fandom - One Direction (Directioners)

Summary - A particularly sexist interview decides to reduce you to just a sexual being and makes no effort to hide his misogyny. But the boys are there to support you.

Warnings - sexualization of the lgbt community, sexist comments, swearing, (honestly I hated myself for writing some of the comments here,and I'm so sorry)

Being a part of the biggest band in the world comes with certain responsibilities. Not responsibilities that come along with signing a recording contract, but those that a person deems themselves responsible for. For example, as the only female in a boyband, a female with a fanbase as large as yours, you took it upon yourself to always stand up for what's right, and to be an ally for the causes close to your heart.

That meant that your social media was often flooded with information about important causes, or your opinions on issues like feminism. Was it always well received? Heck no. There were people filled your feed with hate and comments calling you the most horrible names and labelling you a 'man hater' and a 'bitch' But you didn't let it get to you. On most days. On days like today, it was all you could do to keep it together. It had been a tiring few days, touring, recording, performing and doing an endless amount of interviews and photoshoots. It was safe to say you were on the last of your nerves, having battled your way through a makeup artist who had insisted on pointing out your flaws and had used a shit ton of makeup to cover them up. You had battled a photographer who had not hesitated to tell you that if you didn't look more feminine people would think you were turning into a man.

Before you could retaliate, Paul had dragged him away and told management to cancel the photoshoot, and find another photographer before grabbing the six of you some sandwiches and had let you all go back for a quick power nap at the hotel. Then in about half an hour he had woken you up, to get you ready for another interview. That's how you were here, in a white jumpsuit and a black blazer jacket, paired with black heels. Another day, another interviewer that got on your nerves. But this one, this one was different. This interviewer was different, but also the same. Another misogynistic man who thought he was entitled to stare at your ass and cleavage, and eye fuck you as you settled into a seat in between Niall and Zayn.

Settling in, you crossed one knee over the other, plastering a fake smile onto your face, as the man leaned back in his chair, throwing you a sleazy smirk. Noticing the look, Zayn shifted so you were out of view of the interviewer, but in view of the audience. It was in moments like this that you were a 100× more grateful to have your boys. They were well aware of how sleazy some interviewers could be, having had plenty of experience with them, and Zayn and Louis in particular were very protective about the way you were treated. Squeezing your thigh softly, he leaned back a little, lips settling into a thin line as he looked at the interviewer with a cold look. A little behind, Louis threw the interviewer a dirty look.

"So, One Direction! Congratulations on the album, as you all know its out on November the 22nd, with eighteen new songs, including the singles Night Changes and Steal My Girl Speaking of stealing girls, do you think I could steal your number Y/N? And may I mention, you look ver, very hot in that outfit" The interviewer joked, throwing you what he thought was a sexy smirk. (P.S - it wasn't) Answering with an awkward laugh, you shook your head, as Niall tensed up beside you. "Aww come on, your'e a pretty girl, I'm a handsome guy, let's go out sometime" he pressed on, ignoring the growing anger in Harry's eyes. "That's umm, nice. But no thanks, I'm not going to go out with you" was your answer, as you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Picking up on your nervous tic, Zayn moved his hand to rest on your knee, stopping it from bouncing up and down.

"Aww come on baby, what is it? You like girls or something? Because I wouldn't mind being a part of that action either" the sleazebag chuckled, ignoring the disgusted look Liam sent his way. "That's rude" Liam said, while Zayn tightened his grip on your knee. "Oh come on lads, are you telling me the idea doesn't appeal to you? Two women together, mm, makes me all excited just thinking about it, especially if one of them's Y/N" That comment was all it took for Louis to stand up, turning to the man and saying in a voice much rougher than his usual voice, "Alright, that's fuckin' enough, what the fuck is actually wrong with you?" he was backed up by Liam, who stood up, going to tower over the interviewer, whose eyes had lost some of the sleazy look in them. "All you've done since we walked in here is make those disgusting comments about Y/N, and it's sickening. Have some fucking respect" he practically spat.

Behind him, Zayn took your hand in his and pulled you to your feet, noticing the slight glossiness in them, leading you back to the dressing rooms, while Niall, Liam, Louis and Harry stayed back to continue to snap at the interviewer. "That is no way to treat a woman, and not only are you disrespecting her, you also made those god awful events about seeing women together. Your'e a shame to every single person in this room by talking like that" Harry continued, glancing over his shoulder to check if you were okay.

"And no, it doesn't excite us, because we are not assholes, and you are, a disgusting sleaze who does not deserve the job he has. Fuckin loser" Niall chimed in, standing up and storming out. Louis stood up as well, turning to directly face the cameras and the cameramen and sound technicians, who had all looked shocked when the man had made his comments towards you. "I sure as hell hope you have that on record, so you can see just how fucking sexist this industry is to women. Y/N does the same job as us, works just as hard and has the same number of awards, nominations, and records and yet you decide to only focus on her body, clothes, love life and sexuality. Get a fucking life" he spat at the camera, before walking away himself, eventually followed by Harry and Liam, who apologized to the outraged fans before leaving themselves. As they made their way to the dressing rooms they could hear the audience telling the interviewer to apologize to you, their anger at the way you were treated echoing through the building.

Walking in, Harry caught sigh of you curled up in one of the armchairs, with Louis sitting beside you, while Niall and Zayn talked to a furious Paul. "He had no damn right to treat her like shite, and you need to make sure that he knows those comments were un-fuckin-acceptable" Niall was saying, looking angrier than Harry had ever seen him. "And to make those sickening comments about wanting to get action? Can't we sue him for something?" Was Zayn's reply, glancing over his shoulder at you to make sure you were still okay. "We can't sue him, atleast I don't think we can, but I'll have someone let the smug bastard know that he needs to learn how to respect a woman" Paul said, before leaving the room to give the six of you some time together before you had to head back to the hotel.

"How're you feeling darling?" Louis said, moving over and patting your knee so you moved. "I'm okay" you mumbled back, letting Louis settle in next to you, leaning back to rest on his chest. "He had no fuckin right to say any of that, and don't you let it trouble you for a second" Zayn added, pouring out a cup of tea for you and for Louis and Harry. "I don't care about what he said, I couldn't care less, but it was just so frustrating, sitting there and listening to him just sexualize a whole community of people. You've got to be in a really sad place to think of shit like that. That's what annoyed me. You think I give a damn about what he said about my clothes or wanting to take me out on a date? It was the way he was talking, like he was sure any woman would be glad to have him that irked me. He's really tiresome" was your reply, as you reached forward for a sip of your tea. "That's the right attitude love. Haters gonna hate" Harry said.

"I know that. But I just wish I could punch him once, which sounds mean, but he does kind of deserve it" Niall said, earning a laugh from you. Niall was never usually aggressive, and even now, he wasn't particularly rude but it was rare to see him wanting to punch someone. "It's okay Niall, you don't have to. I can do it myself, but I won't" you replied, leaning up to squeeze his hand. "Besides, Ni, if you went and punched him, I'd do it too, and then we'd all go to jail" Liam chimed in, scrolling through his twitter. "Twitter isn't happy either babe. #stopsexualization and #Y/Ndeservesbetter is trending already" he added, showing you his phone. "If it means some of these sexist asses get their heads out of the sand, I'm happy. But I dont want to to think about it now" you replied, cuddling closer to the warmth radiating from Louis's body.

"Okay, we won't talk about it. Do you want to go back to the hotel?" Harry asked, standing up and walking to the door "No I want to go to Nando's. Anybody else hungry?" You asked, to nods of assent from the boys. "I'm starving. Those stupid sandwiches didn't fill me up at all" Zayn said, standing up to grab his coat and wallet. "I know and I'm craving some hot Peri Peri chicken with some fries. Do you think they'd let me put the lemon and herb sauce on the fries?" You asked, standing up yourself, earning a laugh from Louis. "Your'e an international superstar babe, I think they'd give you some lemon herb sauce" Liam joked.

Laughing, the six of you made your way to the car, with Harry and Niall squishing you in between them, as Louis sat in the back with Liam, and Zayn sat in the front with Paul (he was driving thank GOD) "I'm proud of you darling" Harry chimed in suddenly. "I am too" Niall added. "You know I am" Louis said, before Liam added "Always babe" and Zayn turned to smile at you before adding, "We are all proud of you, and we always will be, not only because you do a damn good job of not listening to the haters, but because you do what you think is right" "Awh come on, your'e gonna make me cry" you mumbled, leaning into Niall's shoulder. "Almost makes me feel bad for teasing you about having an extremely low spice tolerance the last time we were at Nando's Haz" you smirked, earning a roar of laughter from the boys.

"That chicken was spicy love!" "It was lemon and herb with no peri peri!" "And it was spicy!"

And just like that, you were back to messing around with each other. Sleazy interviewers would come and go, but your boys were always there to support you. Always.

-------

A/N - Thanks for reading ! I'd also like to apologize on the behalf of this fictitious interviewer I made up, I felt so bad while writing some of this 😭 anyways, I hope this is what you wanted! Enjoy !

Tags - @zaynkissbot @gucci-hazza @bxtchboy69

#one direction x reader #one direction x sixth member #one direction imagines #one direction fanfiction #one direction #harry styles x reader #liam payne x reader #louis tomlinson x reader #niall horan x reader #zayn malik x reader #imthebadguyyytags #harry styles #niall horan #liam payne #louis tomlinson #zayn malik

1K notes · View notes

writingwithcolor · 2 years

Note

Hello! So I am writing this kind of horror novel? And there's a black family that's like upper-middle class (not rich but well off, mother is a surgeror). So there's two parents and they have a son and a daughter, the son is kind of abusive and a bully which prompts the daughter to leave to live with her uncle and cousin. The son ends up killing both or one parent (still deciding) and then gets possessed by a monster which especially kills him and the monster uses him as a vessel (part 1/2)

(so with that out of the way; basically the son being a horrible person and at least one of the parents dying is very important to the plot but I want to make sure I do this tactfully. I can of course change things and dail it down if necessary. Also, if that’s any concern, the characters of colour aren’t the only ones suffering, it’s a generally dark book and pretty much everybody goes through some heavy shit. I can tell you more if necessary, and thank you in advance for your help! ♡

Evil Black Man becomes possessed by a Monster

You’ll have to be careful with this one. You seem to be portraying Black men as monsters, quite literally and also in a “inhumane” sense (betraying others, murdering his loved ones and abusing his Black sister). He also kills one parent, and depending on their gender, this has other implications. Their acts also feed into tropes of Black people being violent, particularly as more violent, with the target being other Black people. I will discuss these tropes more.

Violent Men of Color

Men of Color, particularly dark-skinned men with an emphasis on Black men, are often harmfully portrayed as aggressive, predatory and even animalistic. This is a harmful, dehumanizing trope and feeds into real life biases against Black men that gets these men killed. People assume MOC are just that much more violent and that they're armed. This leads to overreacting to their presence and actions in fear, when really these men are just trying to live their life. Some even go out of their way to prove they are harmless to reduce the unearned panic their presence may cause (e.g. hands out of pockets, smiling brightly, making sure they’re visible so their presence isn’t a surprise, especially at night)

Examples of this trope in action:

The way “Karens” call the police on Black people at the drop of a hat with claims that they fear for their life or are being threatened. They’ll play on this stereotype for sympathy and to urge on a stronger reaction from police and others around them.

People locking their doors or crossing the street when a Black person comes near.

Police brutality and vigilantes that lead to murders when they

Falsely perceive a weapon / read into simple hand motions as reaching for a weapon

Assume BIPOC will get violent and treat them like a threat from the beginning

Note: You see this at play towards Black women too. I’m pretty sure every fellow Black woman I know, including myself, has had a white woman clutch their purse upon them passing by in a store, and / or has been accused of being too “angry” and aggressive when speaking their mind or showing emotion.

It really isn’t great to feed this narrative. The media is oversaturated with these portrayals already.

“Black on Black” crime

As for this aspect, I can see some of that portrayed in your story. The reality of this phrase is rooted in anti-blackness and intends to make Black people out to be more violent compared to white people and other races. When used to justify others killing Black people, it’s a racist justification for their deaths.

The truth: People tend to commit crimes against the people they know and in their immediate demographic and area. Black people tend to know Black people. In the same way white people tend to know white people, and so on.

Statistics:

- Rates of white-on-white and Black-on-Black homicides are similar and remain within 10 percentage points of each other, around 80% and 90%, respectively.

- Likewise, rates of Black-on-white and white-on-Black homicide remain within eight percentage points of each other, at around 16% and 8%.

- And police kill Black people at disproportionate and much higher rates than they kill their white counterparts.

(USA Today, 2020. Stats are from the U.S. Department of Justice)

Now - this is not to justify violence and murder perpetrated by any race. However, it’s just incorrect to create a narrative of Black people being inherently more violent, particularly towards each other, when white offenders can be quite comparably as violent. Even still, you’re looking at just a portion of a population. These numbers don’t account for the everyday, non-murderous people going about their lives!

Solutions

This narrative, as is, is probably best handled by a Black author. In any case, a Black beta-reader or three should take a closer look. That isn’t to say this can’t be improved!

Here are some ideas to help improve upon this narrative:

Include positive representation. You absolutely should portray Black men of similar identities (for example, if he’s dark-skinned, not cis or straight, etc.) in a positive, non-stereotypical and non-violent way. Prominent positive and neutral representation is a must, in my opinion, to balance such harsh portrayals of Black men.

Clearly define the reason for his ways. It just being “the way he is” as if this level of violence and hatred is natural is not sufficient.

Was he triggered or traumatized by something?

Did someone or something make him this way?

You’ve got elements of possession: You could definitely run with that being the evil influence over him vs. it having anything to do with his Blackness. Perhaps that demon was lurking around most of his life, influencing his personality and feeding and growing his negative emotions to the point that he was becoming a bad person.

Consider ways to make him “bad” that aren’t linked with violence. There are many socially unacceptable ways, both legal and illegal, that can make someone a menace. A villain does not always have to be flashy in his evil, aka a murderer. Think of the human ways that make someone unpleasant. They can be selfish, a cheater, a liar, condescending, disloyal and overall deemed “bad.” Someone can come across just as menacing on the pages without being violent.

Include violent characters of other races. And not just Men of Color, either. There should be white violent characters who commit crimes and brutalities as well. You also mention this story is “Dark” but that doesn’t excuse hyper focusing on violence when it comes to the Black characters and giving the other races different matters to deal with.

Or! Even better - give the violent ways to someone else. Or no one at all. As I mentioned “darkness” and evil does not always need to be connected to violence and murder. If you choose to still include it, that’s fine. I would still suggest considering if this plotline could go to someone else without diminishing the role of these Black characters in general.

I do want to add that Black characters don’t need to be perfect. I absolutely love a Black villain! Folks can appreciate a grim story as well. However, I believe most people prefer when that villain doesn’t feed directly into actively harmful tropes. We want to see serious narratives and horror done, minus the tired tropes. As always, it’s helpful when there are other Black characters of importance that help balance out the representation.

~Mod Colette

#tasmanianstripes #Black men #Men of Color #Violent MOC #Violent men of Color #black on black #black on black crime #black death #death #death tw #angry black man #violent black man #black women #villains #black villains #Black stereotypes #creator responsibility #asks

325 notes · View notes

iwadori · 3 years

Note

are you going to do a 'when the haikyuu boys make you insecure' part with Iwaizumi / could I request that?

When they make you insecure part 6 (Iwaizumi,Matsukawa)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Word Count: 2.8K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

masterlist

AN: Did I embedd myself in this story? Yes, yes i did. :3 (it’s only a small part dw loool)

Iwaizumi

One day when you were walking to the gym to go see your boyfriend

You overhear him and the team talking about some instagram girl

“She’s hot” you hear Boktuo yell doing a hoot as he fawns over a picture, with the rest of the guys agreeing.

“What do you think Iwaizumi?” Hinata ask

“She’s cute... I guess?” the rest of the guys, grunt in disagreement at Iwa’s lack of drooling over the girl.

“Well I see why you wouldn’t want her Haji-kun,” says Atsumu “you are into the more simple girls bro”

“Simple?” Iwaizumi questions, and the rest of the guys agree

“Yeah simple, you know Y/N... she’s simple” says one of the guys, with the word ‘simple’ rolling off their tounge with a tone of disgust.

“I guess your right guys...” Iwaizumi says “Y/N is pretty basic and simple but-”

You leave the gym before you hear what the rest of them had to say. When you got to your house you bolt straight to the mirror, you look at your outfit and frown. You never thought your style was ‘basic,’ to be fair you wouldn’t describe anybodys style as basic or simple. Of course, you weren’t like those instagram influencers, that wasn’t your thing. But Iwa has known that about you for years... but I guess that’s not what he truly likes.

You go to your closet and take out all the contents, just tossing all your clothes (even some of your favourite items ever) and dashing them in a black trash bag putting them to the side. You were already on a mission to buy a whole new wardrobe, going through all different stores and looking on pinterest for inspo.

You didn’t really talk to Iwa for the rest of the week, since you wanted him to see you in your ‘new form,’ you weren’t being radiosilent but you didn’t initiate any hang outs with him or face time calls (which he did find slightly odd, but didn’t think that much by it.)

Finally, the clothes came and you were kind of shocked at how much you ordered you spent over £200 on clothes from all different places. When you were trying them on, you liked some of them the ones that were kind of similar to your past style but not so ‘simple,’ the others you kind of frowned at since it definitely didn’t feel like ‘you’ at all. ‘This is for Iwa,’ you reminded yourself as your forced a smile on your face analysing yourself in the mirror.

You had everything sorted, your wardrobe was now changed and done the colours and styles you once wore before is now the complete opposite. You invited Iwa over, hesistantly waiting to see how would he react.

When you hear your door knock, you rush over to open it and model a pose you saw one of those girl do trying to look as natural as possible.

“Hey babe ho-” he says, with his eyes widening seeing your new look “Woah Y/N!”

“Hey Haji..come in!” you exclaim with a beaming smile pulling him inside to the couch. “So, are we going to continue watching the crown, I watched the previous episode and god prince phillip is such a dick.”

You look over your shoulder and see Iwa still standing in your entranceway a bit awkwardly, looking a bit stunned. “Come sit down then, we’ve got an episode to watch.”

“uh oh yeah, sure” he says blinking, following you to the couch.

You got through atleast 4 episodes together, you barely talked as you were really engrossed in the show. Iwa was barely paying attention, he was too busy questioning how you were acting. This definitely wasn’t the girl he knew, even the way you were acting whilst watch the show was odd. The way you’d cutely giggle and ‘sublty’ look over to him whilst laughing at a funny part of the show instead of just doing your usual obnoxious laugh that he loved to hear.

“Oh Y/N, I’m going to go to the bathroom.” he says standing up, you don’t reply you just wave your hand in acknowledgement.

On his way to the bathroom, Iwa nearly trips on a black bag left outside your bedroom door. He opens it, and mildly gasped when he saw all your old stuff jumbled up in there. He picks up the back and goes straight back to the living room and stands in front of you.

“Haji, what are you doing you’re blocking the TV” you complaining trying to see what’s happening behind him.

He drops the black bag infront of you and you internally curse yourself for not moving. You stare at him waiting for him to say something.

“Well whats this then.” he says looking down at you, almost like a disapproving dad.

“Clothes.” you say smartly, knowing what he was asking.

“You know what I meant Y/N, why are all your clothes in a garbage bag.”

“Because I wanted to put them there,” you wanted to seem as nochalant about it as possible as if putting all your clothes in a garbage bag doesn’t make you feel sad.

“Yeah but why?” he says sitting down next to you.

“Just because I wanted to” you reiterate “what else do you want me to say?”

“Well this isn’t like you, its just a bit random Y/N” he says

“I know this isnt like me you” you spat, standing up “Isn’t this what you wanted anyways.” You head to your bedroom picking up the bag with you, with Iwa hot on your heels.

“What do you mean this is what I wanted?” he says in disbelief “When did I ever say that?”

“It doesn’t matter” you mumble, you start to aggressively take our your old clothes and shove them back into your wardrobe whilst Iwa is just talking. You’re not really listening to him your just putting the clothes back.

“Y/N Stop!” he yells kind of knocking you out of your ‘trance,’ “what is going on with you?” he grabs you hands and pulls them down stopping you from what you were doing and he winced at seeing your tear stricken face.

He gently pulls you into his arms sitting you both on your bed, waiting for you to speak. “I don’t know what you want from me Iwa..” you start your voice slightly breaking “it’s just I did this all for you and you don’t even appreciate it.”

“I don’t know what you mean Y/N?” he says sounding genuinely confused.

“Y/N is simple and basic.” you say repeating words that you heard your boyfriend say about you, you feel him tense as you say it and you slowly get out of his hug.

“Y/N I-”

“That really hurt Hajime, I know now that I'm not your ‘type’ but I-”

“No Y/N, you are my type of course you are!” he says gulping in nervousness “I love you, and your style. I’ve always being enamored by how you dress and present yourself and I don’t know why I even said you’re basic and simple I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Really?” you say sniffling looking down

“Yes really you idiot,” he says lifting your head up “To be fair I don’t care what you wear, since you look great in anthing I just want you to be happy Y/N and especially not dress for anyone including me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree slightly nodding your head.

“Good, so can we go and finish the crown and then burn all these clothes?” Iwa jokes as he stands up.

“Burn them!” you exclaim “These cost £200, you muppet.”

“£200! Gosh Y/N, next time you go shopping im definitely coming with you.” he says shaking his head “can’t have you blowing out your bank account for clothes you don’t even like that much.”

You spend the rest of the day finishing of The Crown and you and Iwa eventually both sort out your wardrobe. Your style and aethetic changes a lot more through the times you were together and Iwa was very supportive and helpful of every single change. Especially *insert your favourite dress aesthetic here.*

Matsukawa

You were walking with your friends; Iwa, Tooru, Maki and your boyfriend Matsun. Walking to school as you did every morning, today the topic of conversation was Tooru’s bad taste in women.

“Gosh yesterday was horrible, she didn’t want to talk to me at all,” he complained “all she wanted to do was to come straight to my place, I didn’t even have the chance to tell her my hair routine.”

“That’s why you don’t find dates off of Tinder shittykawa” grunted Iwaizumi

“Well I know that now!” he exclaimed.

“Y/N,” said Makki grasping your attention “Would you ever use Tinder?”

“Well I-”

“Of course she wouldn’t” your boyfriend interrupted wrapping his arm round your shoulder “she’s got me”

“Yeah, but if you two weren’t together, would you use it.”

“Well may-”

“Y/N definitely wouldn’t” he said interrupting you AGAIN “she’s way to frigid for that shit”

Frigid? You thought to yourself, ouch. Their was a quick awkward silence and all you could hear was Matsukawa laughing with the others laughing after awkwardly in pursuit. After sensing your uncomfortability (is that a word?) Oikawa decides to change the subject to make things less awkward,

“I need a woman who understands me!” he rants “One that can listen to me and appreciate my awesome hair.”

“Goodluck with that Shittykawa.”

Oikawa rambles on as you walk to school with the other guys chiming in. You on the other hand, were lost in thought. Your sex life wasn’t something you would want to publicly talk about let alone to you and your boyfriends' male friends. Also, with Matsun describing you as ‘frigid’ struck a nerve. You weren’t frigid, well at least to you, you weren’t.

When you got to school you immediately rushed straight to your lesson claiming that you teacher really needed to talk to you. Which was odd to Matsukawa as you usually all hung around each other until the bell rang, the other boys gave each other knowing looks all assuming the reasons for your odd behaviour.

At lunch time, you stayed in your class instead of going up to the roof where you and your friends usually end up. In the class room you hear one of the girls in your class, Empress having one of her usual gossip conversations with her group of friends.

“Hajime is so hot!” she said, fanning her face being dramatic

“Of course he is! You should totally go for him.” her friend said and the rest of the friends agreed.

“What do you think Y/N?” she says to you catching your attention “you’re close friends with him right?”

“Yeah, I am” you say a bit sadly “You should definitely go for him, I think you’d be perfect together.”

“Okay! I think I might later” she says smiling. Her and friends leave, but then Empress returns and walks straight to you.

“Are you alright doll?” she asks softly smiling

“I guess so..” you say hesitantly “It’s just something my boyfriend said to me this morning.”

“Matsun?” she asks and you nod in reply “What did he say?”

After you rehash the situation from this morning Empress scowls in annoyance, “Boys can be such pigs sometimes, such a dick thing to say.”

“I know right!” you respond “Even if I was frigid, which im totally not it’s not even a bad thing nor is it something to reveal to people in public in a ‘jokey’ way.”

“Yeah!” she agrees “I think you should go and give him a piece of your mind.”

“I mean...” your voice falters, when it comes to Matsun you’ve never really given him a ‘piece of your mind,’ even when he makes jokes that you’re not so fond of.

“Come on!” she encourages “I’ll come with you and cheer you on.”

“You just want to come to see Iwa Empress” you say pointedly “But fine let’s go.”

You both power walk to the roof where you see the four seijoh boys sitting down and eating. “Oh hi Y/N/-chan and look Iwa its Emp-chan... isn’t that a surprise!” Iwa blushes and the rest of the guys laugh.

You walk straight up to Matsun and stand right infront of him. “Matsukawa I need to talk to you,” you say folding your arms. “Why whats up babe?” he says, still sitting down with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Alone.” you say turning around walking to a secluded spot. Behind you, you hear Matsun get up and the rest of the boys saying “oooh Matsukawa your in trouble” as they laugh.

“What’s wrong with you today Y/N?” he asks slightly accusatorily.

“I didn’t appreciate the comment you made today on the way to school,” you say with your arms folded.

“Oh that little comment about you being frigid, come on it was just a joke I wasn’t being serious.” he says lightly laughing but he stops once he sees the glare you give him ”you knew it was a joke right?”

“Matsun, some are your jokes just aren’t funny,” you say “especially when they're about me and our sex life in front of our friends too.”

“Y/N I didn’t mea-”

“You just come off as a huge dick sometimes, and I can’t do this anymore if you keep on making these comments anymore I don’t think I can do this.”

“Woah Y/N, are you threatening to break up with me?” he asks “Over a few little comments?”

“These aren’t a few little comments, sometimes what you say is just unnecessary and rude.”

“Okay well...”

“Well...” you repeat staring at him waiting for to apologise or atleast say something, “fuck you Matsukawa.”

You storm away and walk bout to the group saying “Empress lets go.” She jumps of Iwa’s lap and waves by to them following you back down to the school. You walk into the bathroom and just start to cry, “Y/N whats wrong?” Empress says pulling you into a hug

“H-He doesn’t care,” you cry “He pretty much excused his stupid comments, passing them off as little ‘jokes,’ that didn’t apparently mean anything.”

“Oh dear,” Empress says consoling you “he’s not worth your time right now.”

“B-but but I love him.” you wail fat tears streaming down your face.

“I know sweetheart, I know,” she says letting go of the hug “so what do you wanna do about him?”

“I don’t know,” you say “I don’t want to break up with him or anything, but is there a point in staying if he’s just going to make these comments again.”

“I don’t know Y/N, but whatever you wanna do I’ll support. Wether it’s keying his car or reading shitty fanfiction and crying.” Empress says making you laugh.

The final bell rings and now it's time to go home, of course you don’t walk with the guys so you just enjoy your own company walking home.

“Y/N! Y/N!” you hear from behind you and of course the only person it can be is Matsukawa.

“What do you want?” you mumbled

“I..I want too” he says heaving out of breath from the running he had to do “I want to apologise. I need do.”

“Okay...” you respond

“Im sorry, Im so so sorry,” he says “those jokes and comments were stupid and I agree I can be a dick sometimes. Well a lot of the time, but I never wanted to be a dick to you.”

“Well you were.”

“I know I was, and I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse what I said and what I have said before I just hope I can make it up to you.”

“Okay then.”

“So are we not broken up?”

“No we’re not broken up, but it’ll take a lot of making up to do for me to fully forgive you.”

“Great! And I'll spend every day to get you to forgive me.”

Which he did, he spent every day showering you with love and affection. He was way better than he was before, you even went on double dates with Oikawa and his flavour of the week and triple dates with Iwa and his girlfriend. Matsukawa, although he still made jokes, he never targeted them and centered them around you in an insulting way.

AN: I didn’t really like the matsukawa one since i couldn’t really write for him properyl sooo sorry bout that one kids.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu scenarios #haikyu headcanons #haikyu #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fluff #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa angst #matsukawa fluff #matsukawa oneshot #signedwithane😌

1K notes · View notes

cazort · 2 years

Text

Including Men In Sex Positivity: We Can’t Expect Men To Fix Other Men’s Behavior Before Including Them

I was all excited because I found this fairly recent article online talking about how there is a need to include men in sex positivity, and then I read the whole article and pretty much all the author is calling for is for men to listen to women more and to intervene more with other men doing bad things to women.

And I’m like, dude. I don’t think you get it.

Like, if you live as a man, you can listen to women all you want, you can take women’s studies in college, be a raging feminist, pour countless hours in feminist movements and activism, and this will do little to nothing to tear down your internal shame and guilt associated with sex. And in many cases, it might even make it worse if you are listening to the (numerous) women who are ranting about the horrible things men have done to them and have taken it to generalizing negatively about men and/or talking about men as if their sexuality is inherently threatening or inherently bad. Many women are trauma survivors and trauma survivors don’t always exhibit fully rational thinking, as I can testify as I have my own trauma and have struggled with irrationally demonizing people (including men) in the past too.

The men who need to listen to women more are not going to have much overlap with the men who are reading an article on the need for sex positivity for men, written by a woman, on a feminist website.

And then the article starts going into how, after listening to women, men can move things forward by using their male privilege to influence other men, blah blah blah.

I’m really sick of the attitude that all men are responsible for the bad behavior of other men and the idea that feminism is going to move forward by the men who are already engaged in it, doing more to engage other men. There’s a huge assumption in here, which is that all men necessarily have power over other men. In many cases, they simply don’t have this power at all, and in the few cases where they do, it is limited and highly situational.

I have a story about this. When I was in middle school, there was a (heteronormative) exercise we were given in home economics class, in which they divided the class into girls and boys and had us, in groups, list what qualities we found attractive in the opposite sex. I was put in the boys group. The group was dominated by a small group of kids who were loud and a few of whom would actively bully me. Really quickly they started writing down objectifying stuff that I didn’t relate to. I knew that if I spoke up, I would just get bullied and shut down. So I was quiet, and the group drew up and presented a list of really objectifying, misogynistic things that did not at all reflect what I (or even what the majority of the people in our group) actually believed.

The teacher, who to her credit was pretty aware of the social dynamic, realized what had happened and then kinda publicly shamed the boys who had written the list, and then excluded those boys and asked the rest of us to come up with our own list after-the-fact. Interestingly, the list we came up with was not at all misogynistic and focused on personality and behaviors rather than appearance.

But what is the lesson here? The solution wasn’t for boys to police boys. Boys policing boys had been failing for months because the culture was persisting on its own. The solution was for an authority figure to step in and prevent a small subset of more aggressive boys from dominating the conversation. And in this instance, the authority figure happened to be a woman, proving that it doesn’t have to be men who take action. The person’s gender wasn’t even important, the key was that the person had the power and authority to shut down the boys whose behavior was problematic.

Out in the real world, black men and other BIPOC men often aren’t in a position to speak up against white men who are engaging in misogynistic behaviors, especially in racist settings. Why? Because they don’t have power and authority. If they tried to speak up, they might even be subjected to violence. The same is true of queer men and GNC men as they are often less likely to be taken seriously and more likely to be subjected to derision or violence. Neurodivergent men also have a really hard time. They might misread a situation in the first place and make a fool out of themselves, and they might feel afraid of getting involved even if they think something is bad, because of past experiences with humiliation after they misread a situation (I know I struggled with this a lot when younger.) And they might not say or do the “right things” and they might end up targeted in a situation where they try to help. And socioeconomic status is a factor too. Men of high social status and wealth can get away with behaviors that a lot of people couldn’t and people of low status certainly couldn’t. Just look at all the examples of some rich white college student sexually assaulting someone at a frat party and getting away with it because his dad has connections. People of high status are often able to get off the hook for crimes through lawyers and connections, whereas in an altercation, people of low status are more likely to end up getting charged with a crime, convicted, and put in jaiil.

So...look at how this topic had gotten derailed. I started by searching for information about how to include men in sex positivity, and now I’m talking about how men are expected to police other men but in reality, they’re usually powerless to do so.

This is a serious problem in feminism, and I have news for you. For once, the problem here isn’t men. It’s women (and some men and others who join and support their voices) who are failing at intersectionality, blaming all men for a problem that is really limited to a specific subset of men, and expecting men who have no real power to do anything about these men, to do something.

It’s time for us to include men in sex positivity. And including men does not mean that we insist that men stop other men who are engaging in bad behaviors before they get included and supported. Including men does not mean insisting on men listen to women say the same things over and over again before their own voice gets included and heard.

If we don’t change our approach, this issue is never going to progress. We need to include men in the sex positive movement now. And we need to include these men with an understanding that they are responsible for their own actions, but not the actions of other men. We need to stop assuming that men all have inherent power over other men. And we need to start examining the racism, classism, ableism, and other bigoted assumptions in the expectation of men to solve all these problems themselves. And we also need to start examining the ways some self-identified “feminists” talk about men and male sexuality that is deliberately excluding them from sex positivity and from feminism in general, i.e. talking about men as if they are inherenetly bad and specifically talking about male sexuality and male attraction to women as if it were inherently predatory, and how this idea not only excludes men from sex positivity and feminism, but it also lets men off the hook when they engage in bad behavior, and wrongly targets the men who do not engage in these behaviors.

Yeah.

#sex positive #feminism #long post #male sex positivity #male positivity

76 notes · View notes

saiqherrr · 3 years

Text

— taboo lust (k. nanami)

.pairing nanami x femreader

.content warning | tags dark content, smut, nsfw, cursing, breeding kink, slight blood mention, spitting (a little) fingering, degrading, oral sex (f/m receiving), aggression, slapping, face-fucking, stepcest, dub-con, gagging, choking, somnophilia, biting, scratching, age-gap, lemme know if i missed any.

.synopsis you were originally distraught when your mother had divorced your father, whom you loved so much, but things don’t seem too bad when you meet the man that she left him for; a jujutsu sorcerer, kento nanami.

wc | 4k

WHEN YOUR MOM had first expressed to you that she was re-marrying, you quickly became hot-headed to the idea. you were already upset at the fact that she divorced your father, so moving on just pushed the knife deeper in your back. you were extremely close with your father, spending time with him every chance you got, not wanting to return home to your mother whom you thought of as a whore. you had your own car, but staying with your father wasn’t an option due to his financial issues.

however, you had a unexpected change of heart when you met the man your mother was to elope.

kento nanami.

the man was six feet tall and was well-built, to your surprised. you wondered how your cunt of a mother managed to pull such a man. his dirty blonde hair was always neatly parted to the side and he always wore glasses on his face. he had the sharpest jawline that was always tensed up and his hands were defined with clear veins that snaked up his forearm.

when you first laid eyes on him, the speed of your heartbeat was blistering. you blushed profusely and couldn’t keep a smile off your face.

“y/n, this is kento. kento, this is my daughter, y/n.” your mothers words were like white noise. you couldn’t focus as you stared at the man that stood at your front door.

“... meet you, y/n...”

you were brought out of your trance when kento nanami said your name. you could now physically feel your heart picking up its face. you took a moment to bring yourself back to reality. nanami had his hand out in front of you, waiting patiently for you to shake it.

“i’m sorry.” you put your hand in his and you stiffened up at his touch. “it’s nice to meet, too, mr. nanami.” your words were so distant, but he was still able to hear them. he stifled a small laugh seeing how nervous you were.

he took a gander at your face and your figure as you both ended your hand shake. such a pretty girl, he pondered internally. you resembled your mother in many ways, but you had an unique beauty to you that made you stand out. he assumed it came from your father. as he continued to examine you, he realized what he was doing and made a sound as if to speak. you watched his adam’s apple move. nanami knew better than to think of something so taboo. he was soon going to become a father figure to you, and there was no reason to have such underhanded thoughts about his prospective stepdaughter.

you, on the other hand, weren’t mature enough to push those thoughts out of your head. ever since he officially moved in, you wound up longing for him like never before. no lament or regret at any point filled your body at whatever point you'd peer into your mother's room, watching nanami get dressed after he was fresh out the shower, listening in on his moans and groans whenever he fucked your mother. all things considered, envy grew inside of you, wanting - no, needing - to be the girl he was fucking senseless. the fact that you were his step-daughter didn’t even bother you in the slightest, in fact, it turned you on more. it was something forbidden and getting to have it would make it so risque, but so hot.

at first, you feared this was one-sided, that there was never going to be a day where you’d get your cunt fucked by him. however, you caught onto nanami’s slick gestures he’d do on a daily. his hand would rest on your lower back sometimes. he’d caress your cheek whenever you vented about how difficult college was. whenever he would kiss your forehead, he left his lips there longer than expected. the little things sent you over the edge, it nearly seemed like prodding. you’d clench your walls whenever you felt aroused and when night came, you’d fantasize about nanami doing all sorts of things with you, touching yourself to get off and satisfy yourself.

you’d lay in the middle of your bed with your legs spread out and your hand scouring your pearl. “nanami..” you moan out softly. you’d pick up your pace a bit before dipping two fingers into your wet warmth and pumping them in and out repeatedly. you tried your best to keep your moans discreet, but as you visually pictured nanami pushing his shaded pink, fat cock inside of your virgin, drooling pussy, it became hard to hold back. you uttered his name over and over. “fuck me, nanami...please,” you whimper.

you were unaware that nanami could hear you some nights whenever your mom was at work at her graveyard shifts. he’d stand by your door and listen to you moan his name repeatedly. his face would flush red, flattered to hear your pretty voice beg for him. he’d rub himself through his pants, feeling on his aching bulge and very rarely would he fully pull out his length and start fisting it right by your door. such a shame, nanami thought. she can’t see how i milk my cock for her. i want you just as bad, little girl.

for about ten months, the both of you were content with the current dynamic. you both found ways to please yourselves without making it obvious to your mother, but both of you longed to physically touch one another.

until one day.

you were arriving home from visiting your father and parked your car in the garage. you noticed nanami’s truck was parked inside, but your mom’s car was nowhere to be found. you shrugged and thought nothing of it as you took the key out the ignition and the engine stopped. you slammed the heavy door shut and closed the garage door with a button on your keys and walked opened the side door which led into the kitchen.

“nanami?” you called out.

“y/n? back already?” you heard him respond to you. you put your keys on the counter and slid off your shoes, picking them up to place them in the mudroom. you came out again and nanami was standing in the kitchen, leaning on the refrigerator door. “hey, sweetheart. had fun?” he snaked his arm around your waist, hugging you and pecking the top of your head swiftly before letting you go. the warmth of his body still lingered on you and you sighed.

you nodded with a smile as you thought of the time you had with your father. “yeah, we went out to a diner and i met the new kitten he adopted.”

“how nice.” nanami smiles. he realized you were probably wondering where your mom had gone. “oh, your mom is staying with a family friend. she said they were really sick and needed someone to help around the house, so your mom is staying there for a day or two.”

you nodded slowly letting out an “oooh..”. you licked your lips and huffed. “so, what’s for dinner?”

“thought i would make steak, mash potatoes...a simple meal,” he responded as he began to take out some seasoning and other cooking items. you watched him as he did, admiring the way his white crew-neck was a bit see-through and his strong abs were just barely visible.

you shook your head slightly and took in a deep breath and let it out. “well, ok! i’m going to take a nap, my head is aching.”

with his back still turned towards you, he responds. “alright. i’ll call you down when dinner is ready.”

you made your way upstairs, holding onto the railing as you got up each step. you went into your bedroom and shut the door behind you. you were quick to change out of your clothes, putting on loose t-shirt and leaving your pants off. you got into your comfy bed, pulling the covers over you and let your head sink into your pillow as you quickly fell asleep.

nanami called your name out numerous times but to no avail. you were in an incredibly deep sleep, not able to hear your stepfather calling your name from downstairs. nanami sighed with slight annoyance as he walked up the staircase and went to your bedroom door. he knocked twice before he twisted the doorknob and slowly opened it.

there you were, laying in bed, gripping tightly onto the blanket that covered your small body. you were nestled into the edge of your bed, calmly resting, your knees bent a little. nanami gulped at the sight, never seeing you like this before. for the most part, he was able to conceal his deep attraction to seeing women sleeping. it was very guilty pleasure and slight guilt took over him as he was watching you in such a perverted way. however, the fact that you were his stepdaughter made it so much more enticing at the same time. he felt himself gradually become aroused seeing you in this unconscious state. he cursed underneath his breath. he had to keep himself under control. but his body didn’t want to comply with his mind. after almost a year of longing to be inside of you, he had a perfect opportunity, and he certainly didn’t want it to go to waste - and judging from the nights she had spent moaning for him, she wouldn’t want to waste it either. the dinner he had just made was quickly forgotten and was left in the kitchen to get cold. he slowly made his way to the opposite side of the bed and looked at your back, slowing rising and falling as you breathed deeply. without making much noise, he unbuckled his black slacks and let them fall to his ankles for stepping out of them and kicking them aside. he removed his glasses from his face and he put it on the nightstand beside your bed, revealing small, lustful eyes. it felt like his body was moving on its own, but he was doing very little to stop himself. with each movement, he felt himself stiffening. he rubbed his semi-hard cock through his boxers to ease himself before he slowly lifted up the cover to climb into your bed.

he took in a sharp breath when he peered under and noticed you weren’t wearing anything from the waist down besides cotton panties and long, white socks. you shifted slightly from feeling the extra movement in your bed, but you still did not awake. nanami thanked god internally as he let the cover fall over his own body and scooted closer to you. naturally, as you felt another presence beside you, you pressed your back against his chest, slightly startling him, however, you were still remained in your slumber. nanami breathed heavily, his lips parted and watering from looking at your body. he brought his left arm around your small figure and his big hand found itself on your stomach and slowly dragged it down to your pussy. he was astounded to find that you were wet. would could you be dreaming of, sweetheart. he could feel it through your panties and he had become fully erect now. once he found your clit, he rubbed through it in a circular motion and felt it twitch. he removed his hand and and took in a breath as he slowly rolled you over so that you were now on your back.

he pulled the cover over his head and crawled underneath, positioning himself below you. he hooked both of his index fingers around the hem of your panties and pulled them down your legs until he got them completely off. he threw the cover off himself and you and was able to clearly see your wet, pretty cunt. it was clenching around nothing, practically begging to get fucked. nanami wasted no time and took his thumb and rubbed your swollen clit while he hungrily dragged his tongue along your folds. tasting you alone could make him cum, but he didn’t want to yet, and he had great control. you were starting to feel the wet sensations that made contact with your warmth, but waking up from this deep slumber was so difficult. you fought with yourself, moving your legs a bit, but nanami held them steady, removing his thumb from your clit in the process. feeling the pressure of his palms holding you down finally awoke you and you opened your eyes and blinked a couple of times before looking down in between your legs. there he was, licking and slurping on your wet cunt like it was his last meal. a sight you’ve dreamed of countless nights, a desire you yearned for. your pussy fluttered against his tongue and he looked up at you and smirked when he saw your priceless face.

“you finally woke up, beautiful.”

you melted at his words, feeling overwhelmingly flattered. you licked your lips slowly, still waking up the rest of your body and you the edge of your lips curved into a smile. “nanami...” was all you could say.

nanami lifted his head up and sat up, on his knees, glaring down at you. “i can stop if you want me to. this isn’t exactly-”

“no.” you cut him off so quick. “please, no.” you sat up desperately and gripped onto his shirt. nanami smirked at your desperation. it was so cute. he removed your hands from his body and slid his shirt up and pulled it from off his body, throwing it to the floor. shamelessly, you stare at his defined body, a sight you’ve only seen from afar, and your mouth waters. eagerly, you latch your lips on certain spots of his body, sucking on them momentarily before moving onto the next. you planted kisses all over his abs until you got on your knees and made your way up to his neck. nanami closed his eyes, enjoying the treatment he was getting. he brought his left hand up under your shirt, rubbing your back sensually and you took it as a sign to take it off, in which you did. you weren’t wearing a bra and he stared down at your breasts. he took one in one hand and cupped it, massaged it and rubbed your tender nipple until it gradually became stiff. you brought your lips to his. your lips connecting for the first time was like kissing your first boyfriend in high school. your heart fluttered and your stomach churned with excitement. your tongue danced around his mouth, matching his own rhythm, tasting every slick of saliva that was on it. you both broke away, a string of saliva breaking in between you too and landing on nanami’s chin. he wiped it off with his thumb and glared down at you.

“you’re a little slut, aren’t you?” his voice was deep and menacing.

you adverted your eyes away slightly, feeling slight humiliation from his words, but mostly feeling aroused. you were leaking on your own bed and nanami noticed. “look at you, making a mess on your bed for me.” he leaned down and kissed your cheek and then brought his lips down to your neck. he sucked on it hard, knowing he was going to leave a mark there. “i’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long, y/n,” he whispers in your ear. his hand pushes your panties aside and he inserts one finger. “i’ve heard you moan my name at night like a little bitch whenever you’d touch yourself.” he pumped it a couple of times before adding another digit. “you sounded so fucking pathetic.”

you were so overwhelmed by his words and by his actions. this was everything you’ve ever wanted. your hips bucked up as a reaction to feeling his fingers inside of your warm hole. “na...nanami...” you throated out as uncontrollable sensations took over you. he wasn’t aware that you were a virgin. everything you were feeling felt somewhat different now that you had someone to do it with. “nanami..?!” you sounded confused as you moaned his name for the second time and felt your stomach twist. you swore you saw stars for a moment as your legs vibrated violently and you were drawn to an orgasm.

nanami looked down at his pruney fingers that were now covered with your juices. you breathed heavily as you looked at him with a concerned face. he looked at you with an unsure smile. “you’re a virgin aren’t you?”

you nod and his eyebrows raise. “you just get more and more pathetic, i love it.”

he spread your legs open wider before he took his hands and removed his boxers. you gasped a little as you saw his long, cock. the cock that impaled your mom some nights ago. your mouth was watering and nanami slapped you which caught you off guard.

“if you want my cock then take it in your mouth, don’t fucking stare at it.” his words were aggressive, hitting you one by one. you could care less how he spoke to you, you just wanted to please him.

you complied and you took his length in your hand and pumped him a few times. he leaked pearls of pre-cum from his tip that you licked up with your tongue. you had given head before at a random college party and you hoped that you could make nanami proud.

“shit...”

his tip was swollen and was in need of your entire mouth, which you gave him. you took him in slowly, your cheeks going hollow, and began to bop your head on his hot dick. “fuck...” slurping noises emitted from your lips with occasionally ‘pops’ whenever you fully removed him from your mouth. you jerked off anything you couldn’t reach, but it was obviously you were steering clear of your throat and nanami wasn’t going to let it slide.

“you’re doing so good,” he says. he pulls your head off of him and forces him to look up at him. “but you could be doing so much better.” the words disappointed you but only motivated you. he pushed you down onto his length until his tip hit the back of your throat. your cheeks puffed up and you gagged and brought your head up with much force. “stay down, sweetheart.” he pushed your head back down and eased his way to your throat instead. you got your gag reflex under control, but still showed signs of struggle. your eyes were tearing up and your face was grimacing as you were losing air.

“aw, look at the little slut crying. what’s wrong, you can’t take it?” he pushed his cock aggressively in an unnatural way when he said “take it”.

he finally pulled himself out of your mouth before he got close to a climax. you tried to catch your breath and you coughed. he pushed you down on the bed, spreading your legs and squeezing your thighs a little bit. his head hung over your pussy and he built up a wad of saliva and spit it into your pussy, rubbing it in vigorously. he then took his saliva-covered dick and slapped it against your needy cunt a couple of times. he pushed the head of dick in just a little bit, over and over, simply teasing you.

it irritated you and you tried to force your body onto his cock. nanami stopped you, pressing a hand on your stomach. “stop it, sweetheart.” he chuckled and it echoed throughout your room. “you’re such a needy little girl. you’re just like your mother, so damn impatient.”

your eyebrows furrowed at the thought of being compared to your mother. he realized and he narrowed his eyes. “but you’re far more enjoyable.”

he felt that you finally deserved to get fucked silly, but he kept his word about taking care of you. he slowly slid all of his length in, feeling your soft, warm walls. he groaned at the tightness of your virgin cunt. the way you clenched around him made his own legs weak but he managed to stay steady. when his groin had finally met with yours, slid out again and pushed himself back in with more aggression. “ah!..” your entire body flinched and you gripped onto nanami’s arms. “fuck...it’s so big.” as he began to steadily thrust into you, the initial pain soon became pleasurable as most had described. he rocked your body with much force as he slapped himself against you.

“i’ve dreamed about fucking this tight pussy,” he says through his groans. “fuck, you feel so good...” your pussy milked him of everything it had. he leaned down to connect his lips to yours and you both shared a hurried and sloppy kiss. your stomach twisted in a familiar knot and broke the kiss as you cried out.

“gonna...gonna cum” you blabbered through your whimpers.

“cum all over my dick, baby,” nanami growled in your ear. your legs shook violently and you squirmed a little as your screamed when you reached your second orgasm. nanami felt your cum running along his dick. it twitched a little bit but he continue to fuck through your orgasm until he stopped thrusting and panted a little bit. “turn around for me.”

you quickly obliged and turned around, getting on all fours, but staying relatively close to the surface of your bed. he gripped one hip and used his other hand to drag his cock against your sore, slobbering pussy. he finally pushed it in and began to fuck you from the back. this time, his fingers dug into your skin as he grabbed your hips and pulled you back onto his dick.

“fuck...”

his grip hurt you but you were overstimulated by his quick, aggressive thrusts. his balls slapped against you. your skin making contact with his made clapping noises that echoed throughout the room. nanami hunched over you, continuing his aggressive strokes and his heavy pants of breath hit the back of your neck. “you want me to cum?”

you didn’t respond, your eyes just barely open and your mind clouded by the amazing feeling. nanami grabbed your throat and pulled you back to look at him. “you want me to cum?”

you nodded vigorously. “yes, please, cum.”

“i’m gonna fuck my kid into you, sweetheart. gonna bury my seed in this pretty pussy,” he says into your ear. he pulls you up while he was still inside of you, pressing your back against his chest. his strokes got harder and more needy. your walls clenched and pulsated around his dick as he plunged in and out of you repeatedly. “this pussy is all mine, right?”

you didn’t realize you were biting your lip so hard you made it bleed. nanami took his thumb, wiped it and licked it. your lips parted to speak. “it’s...all...yours..fuck!”

“say it again, sweetheart.” this time he moaned, feeling himself getting close to his climax.

“it’s all yours nanami!” you cry out. you repeatedly moan his name out as you felt his hips stutter against you and he pushed in his last few strokes before he finally ejaculated inside of you, distempering your walls with his hot, white cum. he pushed in one last time to keep his cum inside of you.

“holy shit, y/n.” nanami was out of breath. he let you go and you flopped on the bed, sore and exhausted. your face was smushed against the bed, your mouth open, trying to get more air. nanami watched his cock go soft again and sighed. “you’re amazing, sweetheart.” he laid down on the bed beside you and pulled the covers over both your bodies. he took you in his arms, bringing your head close to his chest. you could hear his heart beating quickly, but happily. he hummed a bit and it vibrated throughout his chest. he kissed your forehead. it was long and sentimental. “i know how badly you wanted this.”

you blushed, feeling shy all of a sudden. you kissed his chest once before curling up in his embrace and resting your eyes, which eventually led to you sleeping. nanami was tired himself and he fell asleep with you in your arms, his chest heaving up and down; such a forbidden desire that you got to fulfill.

#nanami imagine #jjk smut #jjk x reader #kento nanami #nanami x you #nanami headcanons #jjk fanfic #nanami smut #nanami supremacy

448 notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Wanda X Reader - 10 Things I hate about you - Part One

Summary: Pietro Maximoff is handsome and popular, but he can't date before his twin sister. The problem is that no one can get close to his sister, Wanda Maximoff. To resolve the situation, a girl interested in Pietro bribes a colleague with a mysterious past to go out with Wanda and, who knows, try to win her over. Or The one directly inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You.

Words: 6.553K /// Read on AO3 too || Part Two

Warnings: PG, fluff, language; goth wanda is back thank god.

Notes: If English is your native language and I used slang that doesn't make sense at all, forgive me. It is really hard to translate many dialects from Portuguese to English. Anyways enjoy your reading!

You rode your skateboard to school today. Your mother was angry with you and took the keys to your motorcycle while yelling that you were difficult to raise, so you grabbed your backpack and skateboard while slamming the door on your way out.

It didn't take long to get to school, though.

You absolutely hate this place. Sometimes you get the impression that you are surrounded by completely mental people.

You walked across the parking lot and got off your skateboard, quickly waving to your friend Carol Danvers, who was smoking leaning against the wall of the school building. You would have to talk to them later, as you had a meeting scheduled with the school principal.

Shrugging off the students as you entered the building, you ignored the stares you received and headed toward Ms. Harkness' office.

You entered without knocking because the door was already open, since she was talking to another student, and when the stranger got up she almost tripped over you on her way out. The principal raised her eyes from her notebook to you, and smiled wryly.

- Well, well, Miss Y/L/N. - she said. - I see these encounters of ours are becoming recurrent.

- I like to be around beautiful women, Miss Harkness. - You stated with a charming smile and crossed arms. The woman laughed lightly as she returned her gaze to her notebook.

- Let me see what happened here. - She mumbled to herself, probably trying to find the notes. - Wow, top nudity exhibit in the cafeteria.

You scratched your head impatiently.

- They were melons, Miss Harkness. - You clarified. - I was making a little joke.

Harkness let out a wry chuckle as she stood up.

- How about you keep them under your blouse, huh? - She scoffed, pointing slightly at the height of your breasts and giving you a wink. You frowned. - Out!

You startled slightly, and Mrs. Harkness giggled, returning to her seat.

You blinked in confusion and turned away, mumbling wryly that she was an excellent professional before you left.

//-//

Carol was waiting for you outside the room, a few feet ahead in the hallway against her own lockers, and you greet her with a kiss on the cheek quickly.

- How did it go today? Did she say anything interesting? - Carol asked with humor in her voice. You leaned your back against the closet, letting out a chuckle.

- No way. - You replied. - She just told me to keep my breasts under my blouse.

Carol laughs lightly, while you check your cell phone. And then she touches your arm lightly. When you raise your eyes to her, she signals the corridor.

- New faces. - She nods, and you notice that it's the same girl who bumped into you in the Harkness room. Now she is accompanied by Bruce Banner, who was clearly showing her around.

- Wow, people keep choosing to come to this place. - You mock, making your friend laugh a little.Carol then checks the clock on her wrist and signals that she needs to get to her history class. You say goodbye to her, but get distracted by your cell phone again, and then the bell rings, and you have to run to get to the literature room on the other side of the building.

//-//

You stumble into the room, and all the students turn to look at you.

- What have I missed? - you ask, trying to normalize your breathing after running through the halls.

- The oppressive patriarchal values that determine our education. - replied a girl you didn't know.

- Nice. - You grumble with a slight laugh, as you hurry to sit in the back of the room.

- You must love detention, don't you, Miss Y/L/N? This is your third delay this week. - commented the teacher as soon as you sat down. Several giggles were heard, but you didn't pay much attention. You threw your bag on the chair and tried to pretend that you were interested in whatever Professor Fury was teaching.

- Professor Fury, any chance you could ask Wanda to take her Midol before coming to class? - scoffed Pepper Potts, one of the most popular and insufferable girls at this school. You rolled your eyes at the teasing, and leaned back as the rest of the class giggled.

- One of these days Mrs. Maximoff is going to punch you in the nose, and I'm not going to do anything to stop her. - Fury replied seriously, wiping the ironic smile off Potts' face. - And Wanda, I want to thank you for your point of view. I know how hard it must have been to overcome all those years of upper middle-class suburban oppression. It must be hard. - He sneered and then started walking toward the girl who was probably Wanda. - But the next time you protest about demanding better food, or whatever it is that white kids protest about, ask them why they don't buy books written by black people!

You let out a little laugh, and Professor Fury looked at you seriously.

- Do you find something funny, Miss?

You shrugged, straightening your posture.

- Sorry to interrupt your speech, Mr. Fury. - You say. - But you're blaming Wanda for something she has no control over. Wouldn't it be better to suggest books written by black women, instead of separating the fights?

Professor Fury blinks in irritation at you, while Wanda looks in your direction, looking surprised.

- Out. Principal office. - says the professor, and you blink in surprise. - Both of you, by the way! You pissed me off!

You grumble, and grab your backpack and leave the room, with Wanda following behind. But you don't speak to her, and when you leave the room, you go to opposite sides of the hallway, since you had no intention of seeing the principal at all.

//-//

You ended up skipping the last two classes of the day while sneaking a smoke with Carol behind the bleachers of the soccer field.

And then you accepted the ride home that she offered you.

- See you tomorrow, troublemaker. - She said good-bye, and you just nodded as you walked toward the front door.

Your mother was at home, sitting at her computer in the living room, and you thought maybe you could sneak past her, but as soon as you closed the door she turned around with her arms crossed.

- The school called. - She said as she stood up, and you let out an impatient sigh as you threw your backpack on the floor by the door. - Are you trying to get suspended?

- Oh yeah, that's my dream. - You scoff, walking toward the kitchen.

- You're going to be grounded.

- I'm already grounded. - You retort softly, and your mother walks over to the counter.

- You think I'm kidding? - She exclaims angrily, and then she's heading down the hall, and you're curious what she's going to do, so you follow her through the house to the garage. You look impassive as she glances around, but then she grabs a hammer and screwdriver from the cabinet and heads for her motorcycle. Your whole body tenses up, but before you can do anything, your mother is breaking your bike.

- You've gone crazy! - You shout as you run toward her, but she turns threateningly toward you with the objects pointed in your direction

- No more fighting! - she shouts. - You're not going anywhere on this damn motorcycle, do you hear me? You are grounded until college.

And then she throws the tools on the floor, and leaves the garage. You take a deep breath, trying not to break everything in front of you, and turn to your motorcycle. Some parts were broken, but you could fix them. The problem would be having the money to do it.

//-//

Tuesday started with biology. And you were really pissed off about the whole thing with your mom and your motorcycle. The professor asked the groups to dissect frogs, and the damn scalpel he handed out wasn't cutting anything. So you grabbed your knife hidden in your boot, and angrily pierced the animal.

- You've lost your mind, put that away! - ordered Carol sitting next to you as she looked around to see if the teacher had seen. You let out an angry sigh and put the item away.

You were bored, and you smoked when you were bored. So you turned the valve on the experimental flame on the bench while putting a cigarette in your mouth, and walked over to light it.

- Girl, what's the matter with you today? - Carol asked impatiently, closing the valve and taking the cigarette out of your mouth.

You mumbled without answering, and she let out a dry laugh before going back to writing. Your gaze wandered around the room and you thought that the new girl and Bruce Banner were looking at you from the table in front of you, but they looked away quickly, so you got distracted again.

//-//

The next class was better because it kept your hands busy. Mechanics with Professor Howard Stark was interesting as he allowed the students to experiment as much as they wanted.

At this moment you were welding a car part while trying not to burn your fingers when you heard a female voice next to you.

- Hi, how are you? - the girl said, and as you turned you realized that it was the new student. You frowned confused, you don't talk to anyone. You thought you should have an aggressive posture, because the girl's voice trembled a little, and then she quickly said good-bye and left the room. You shook your head and went back to concentrating on the lesson.

- What the hell was that all about? - Carol asked from beside you, and you shrugged.

- I told you there are only crazy people in this school. - You remarked with amusement.

- But we go here. - She retorted with a smile.

- Exactly.

Carol laughed and turned her attention back to her own activity.

//-//

In Gym class, the teacher took all the students to the outdoor field, where the rugby team was practicing. He was more concerned about the girls' performance, so he let the rest of the class do as they pleased. Then you and Carol sat down on one of the benches, while you shared a cigarette.

And you had about ten minutes of peace before Pepper Potts and one of her friends came to talk to you.

- Hey, what's up? - asked the blonde, and you looked at her with irony.

- Are you lost? - You replied aggressively, but she didn't seem intimidated.

- See that girl over there? - She said, pointing quickly toward the field. You followed her direction, and it was the same girl from literature class. - That's Wanda Maximoff. I want you to go out with her.

You laughed, shaking your head, and then took a drag on your cigarette.

- As if, preppy. - You denied it as you exchanged a look with Carol, who was grinning in disbelief.

But Pepper was not joking.

- Look, I can't go out with her hot brother until she dates. - She clarifies. - Their father is kind of crazy, he made a rule...

- Touching. Really. I'm moved. - You mock without patience. - But that's not my problem.

- Would it be your problem if you were paid a nice fee?

You let out a dry laugh, looking at her in surprise.

- Are you going to pay me to go out with someone? - you ask, and Potts has a smile on her face as she nods in agreement. You laugh again. - How much?

- Twenty dollars.

You raise your eyebrows, really considering this for a second. And then you look toward the field, and watch as Wanda fouls a girl to the ground, and you swallow dryly. This girl was going to eat you alive.

- Okay, how about 30 bucks? - Potts next suggests when she sees the foul.

You thought about the parts of your motorcycle that you would have to buy. And you licked your lips before you spoke.

- Let's take a good look at this. - You start. - If I take her to the movies, it will be fifteen dollars. And if we buy popcorn, it's fifty dollars. I like to buy candy for the girls, so it would be about seventy-five.

- This is not a negotiation. - Potts retorts angrily. - Take it or leave it, mutt.

You let out a humorless laugh.

- But I think it is, Potts. - You retort, smoking your cigarette again. - Or I'll go over there now and tell Wanda your whole touching little tale.

Potts blinks in irritation, and lets out a wry laugh. But then she relaxes her posture.

- Eighty dollars. - she says. You smile, throwing the cigarette on the floor and putting it out with your foot.

- Deal, Hollywood. - You tell her, and raise your hand in her direction. Potts rolls her eyes, but takes the money from her pocket and hands it to you.

She and her friend then leave, and you settle into your seat.

- You're crazy. - Carol declares afterwards.

- Yes, I know. - You say, brushing your hair out of your eyes with your hands. - But I need new parts. It'll be harmless, it's just a date.

- I hope you're right. - She comments with a laugh, turning her attention back to the field. And then practice ends, and you exchange a look with Carol before getting up and walking toward the players' benches.

You assume your most charming pose as you approach Wanda.

- Hey, pretty girl. - You greet her with a smile as she drinks water from a bottle. She frowns in surprise, and has a wry smile on her face. - What's up?

- I'm sweating like a pig, how are you? - She answers wryly, and you smile awkwardly.

- Wow, that sounds attractive. - You reply in the same tone, watching her put the bottle of water in her backpack on the bench.

- Oh, yes. My goal in life is to look attractive all the time. - She scoffs, frowning. - But I guess it works, since I got your attention. The world makes sense again.

She starts walking toward the exit of the camp, and you are a bit taken aback by the irony, but hurry to keep up with her.

- I'll pick you up on Friday, then. - You tell her, and Wanda lets out a laugh.

- Sure, Friday. - She wryly continues walking.

- Hey, it's the night I take you to places you've never seen.

- To a convenience store on Broadway? - She replies with irony. - Girl, do you even know my name?

You laugh.

- Wanda. - You answer, but she doesn't seem impressed. - And I know more than you know.

- I doubt it. I doubt it very much. - She said ironically and you stopped following her, biting your lip as you watched her walk off the field.

//-//

Your first attempt to get a date with Wanda had not gone well at all, but you are optimistic. And then, on Saturday of that same week, while you and Carol were at the laundromat on the corner of your houses, she nodded slightly outside through the window.

- Isn't that the car of the girl you're being paid to date? - She mocked, and you sighed.

- Don't talk like that. - you said as you put the coins in the washing machine. - It makes me sound like a psychopath.

She laughed without looking at you, kneeling on the waiting couch as she looked out the window.

- I think I should look for a new rejection. - You grumble, handing Carol some coins. - Take care of my clothes while I go talk to her, please.

Carol nods in agreement as you leave the establishment. Crossing the street, you look in the direction of Wanda's car. It is nice, and you are watching the tires as she arrives.

- Are you following me? - She asks with a mixture of aggressiveness and surprise.

- What? Of course not! - You deny it, but with the suspicious look on her face, you try to add. - I was in the laundry room, smarty-pants. I saw your car, and wanted to say hello.

She lets out a sigh, and shrugs her shoulders, heading for the door. You hurry to stand in front of her, a charming smile on your lips.

- I notice that you don't talk much. - You remark, and Wanda frowns, crossing her arms.

- It depends on the subject. - She says. - Talking about the tires on my car doesn't cause me a verbal frenzy.

- You're not afraid of me, are you? - you ask, and she looks at you incredulously.

- Why would I be afraid of you?

- Most people are. - You retort, and Wanda rolls her eyes with irony.

- Well, I don't.

You smile and move a little closer.

- Not afraid, but I bet you've imagined me naked, haven't you? - You tease and give a little wink. Wanda keeps her face almost angry.

- Wow, is it that obvious? - She retorts. - I want you so bad, baby.

She mocks last before bending down slightly and opening the car door, pushing you with the metal.

You let out an impatient sigh as you step back, and she gets into the car and prepares to leave. You stand with your arms folded trying to think how exactly you are going to make this work.

And then Pepper Potts parks her car right behind Wanda's, preventing her from leaving, while the blonde steps out of the vehicle with a smiling, arrogant posture.

- My God, is it idiots' day today? - Wanda complains from inside the car. When Pepper passes by her window, she shouts: - Do you mind girl?

- Not even a little, bitch. - Potts retorts without looking at her as she walks away.

But then Wanda is backing the car up, and the next moment Pepper's red Cadillac has a big bump mark on the side. You laugh in surprise, not believing that she had actually hit the car.

- My God, you are completely crazy! - Potts shouts as she observes the impact.

- Oops. - You hear Wanda scoff.

You laughed again, before going back to the laundry room.

//-//

It was Monday again, and you were trying to have a quiet day. But while you were putting your books away in your locker, Potts approached you.

- When I pay for something, I expect results. - She says, and you close the closet to brace yourself against it.

- I'm trying.

- Watching that lunatic destroy my car doesn't count as a date. - She retorts with mild irritation. - If you don't go out with her, I won't get Pietro. Then get something soon, okay?

That girl's audacity pissed you off.

- I just raised the price. - You tell her, and she looks at you in disbelief.

- Excuse me?

- One hundred and fifty dollars a date. - You say. - In advance.

- Forget it. - She said angrily, turning away.

- Then forget about her brother.

Potts lets out a grumble and then turns to you again, hurrying to get the money.

- Does this kid have a gold dick by any chance? - You scoff, and Potts gives you the middle finger, making you laugh.

- You better get the date, sister. - She says, and you just smile before heading off in the direction of the mechanics' classroom.

//-//

You were trying to find the correct melting point for one of the tools when you were approached by the same girl as the last time you had mechanics.

- I know what you are trying to do with Wanda Maximoff. - She announces, and you let out a wry chuckle as you continue your attention to the tools in front of you.

- Really? And what are you going to do about it?

- Help you.

You blink in surprise as you raise a large metal bar at your eye level to identify its features.

- Why? - you ask, and it is not the girl who speaks next.

- The situation is that my friend Monica, is in love with Pietro Maximoff. - A male voice speaks, and then you look quickly to identify Bruce Banner.

- God, this kid must really have a gold cock. - You mumble with irony as you place the iron bar on the table, and take off your protective gloves.

- Believe me when I tell you that Monica's love is pure, she wants to date him. - Banner explains as you walk to another table in the room, looking for your notes. - Unlike Pepper Potts, who only wants to use him as a trophy.

- Look, I'm only in this for the money. I don't give a shit who Potts is fucking. - You respond without patience, and Monica seems to get irritated with you, but Banner calms her down.

You make some notes regarding the lesson and walk over to the table to analyze the pictures of the tools as you organize them. Monica and Banner follow you.

- Listen, Y/N, we are the ones who planned this story so that Monica and Pietro could date. - Banner says. - Potts is just the go-between.

You laugh with surprise.

- And you are going to help me win Wanda over?

- That's right. - They both say in unison. You turn your attention back to the materials in front of you.

- We will investigate what she likes. - Banner says. - You need our help.

Bruce smiled amiably, and you laughed at the posture he assumed.

- Look, we'll start here. - He began by pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. - On Friday, Stephen Strange is having a party. It's the perfect opportunity.

- Perfect for what? - you ask, looking at him.

- For you to invite Wanda. - He clarifies, and you sigh impatiently, already tired of this conversation.

- I'll think about it. - You say finally and walk to the other side of the room, and this time, they don't follow you.

//-//

It was Wednesday, and you and your friends went to a bar to play a bit of pool shortly after school. Your mother had no idea you were here, but she was working, so she wouldn't know.

You got a text message from Bruce, wanting to meet you along with Monica, and you laughed when you sent the location. They really weren't the kind of people who hang around this place.

You were upstairs, drinking some beer when you saw them come in, and nodding slightly to Carol, you went downstairs and walked over to them.

- So, what do you have for me? - you asked, leaning against a wall.

- Before we get started, I have a question. - says Bruce. - Is it true that you are on probation?

You laugh in surprise.

- What?

- Bruce, shut up. - said Monica, tapping her colleague on the shoulder. And then she turned to you. - First thing, Wanda hates smokers.

- Okay, I hate them too.

You mock, but Monica and Bruce look serious, so you sigh, and take out of your pocket your cigarette case, handing it to the girl.

- There is another problem, Pietro told me that Wanda likes pretty girls.

They look at you for a moment and you frown.

- Are you saying that I'm not pretty? - you ask, straightening your posture.

- You are beautiful! Monica, she's so beautiful, what are you saying? - hurried Bruce almost in terror. You wanted to laugh.

Monica nods quickly in agreement, and you lean back against the wall.

- Look, I made a list. - She hastens to say, pulling a piece of paper from her shirt pocket. - Wanda's tastes are: Sokovian food, feminist poetry, punk and alternative music. And there is a list of the CDs she had in her room.

She says, handing the paper to you. You let out a sigh.

- So should I buy some soup, a book, and ear plugs for some really noisy concert?

They both shrug, smiling slightly.

- Have you ever been to the Skrull Club, west side of town? - Banner asks.

You chuckle.

- It's a nice place, but not really my style.

- Well, it will have to be. - says Monica. - Her favorite group is playing there tomorrow night.

You run your fingers through your hair, sighing.

- Come on, Y/N, it's only for one night. - says Banner. - We're sure she'll be there, Mon found the tickets.

- She also has a black lingerie set. - Added Monica and you frown with confusion.

- Why is this relevant? - You asked, and Monica looked away, looking embarrassed. You laughed lightly, but didn't push it. Then you looked at both of them. - Okay, I'll drop by.

Bruce and Monica both let out excited exclamations and then waved goodbye. You laughed and shook your head, wondering what you had gotten yourself into.

//-//

The Skrull Club was generally frequented by the punk crowd in town, many women from extremist feminist movements hung out here. But in general it was a pretty diverse crowd of rockers, punks, goths and allies. And the drink was cheap.

You received a few curious glances as you walked through the dimly lit corridors of the nightclub, but it was more because these clubs were generally frequented by the same people, and you’re a familiar face.

The place was very crowded, and you had to dodge a lot of people until you reached the main dance floor, trying to find Wanda.

You smiled when you finally saw her, in the first row, dancing with a girl who was also from your school. You thought she looked pretty, in her black dress and red jacket, plus a knee-length black stocking and dark boots on her feet. She might have looked intimidating, but she was still very pretty.

You don't quite understand why your heart races at the image of her dancing and smiling, so you think it best to get a drink, and turn toward the bar.

You sit there, trying to decide how you are going to approach her, but then Wanda is coming toward the bar, and you disguise yourself by looking the other way.

- You don't give up, do you? - She says as soon as she sees you. And walks over to where you are sitting. - If you're planning on asking me out, you can just give up!

- Do you mind? I'm trying to hear the music. - You hit back without looking at her.

-You're not surrounded by your typical cloud of smoke. -She comments after a moment, and you take a sip of the drink you ordered before answering.

- Yes, I quit. They say it's bad for your health. - You say it with a slight irony.

- Do you think so? - Wanda looks slightly surprised, and you give her a short smile before standing up.

- These guys aren't the Kree's, but they play well. - You comment on her favorite band before heading off toward the dance floor. Wanda hurries to follow you.

- Do you know who the Kree's are? - she asks in surprise.

- Why, you don't know? - You reply with irony.

She doesn't answer, looking mildly impressed. You smile briefly.

- I was watching you dance. - You comment as the band is finishing the song. - I don't think I've ever seen you so sexy.

And then the song ends exactly with your line, and the whole club hears you. Several people giggle, and you feel your cheeks heat up, but Wanda laughs too, and that relaxes you.

- Come to Stephen Strange's party with me. - You ask her. And she tilts her head slightly to the side, still smiling.

- You never give up, do you?

And then another song starts, and Wanda is coming back to the front of the stage.

- Is that a yes? - you shout at her.

- No!

- Was that a no?

It takes a second, but she shouts back.

- No!

You grin.

- See you at 9:30! - You shout to her before she disappears into the crowd.

You're smiling all the way home.

//-//

You were early. But you were so anxious about it that you left the house as quickly as possible.

And then you arrived at Wanda's door, but as soon as you went to knock, she opened it.

- What are you doing here? - she asked in surprise.

- 9:30. - You answer. - Yeah, well, I'm early.

- Whatever, I'm driving. - She says and then you look into the house and see Pietro Maximoff with a kangaroo baby carrier outfit occupied with a doll and frown.

- May I ask what that is? - You remark, and Wanda just rolls her eyes at the scene, then turns to you.

- My father is a little neurotic about this whole pregnancy thing. - She answers and walks outside. You both wait for Pietro.

- At least he doesn't use a real baby. - You joke and Wanda smiles. But then Pietro leaves the house, looking slightly annoyed, and you hurry to Wanda's car.

It doesn't take long to get to the party.

The place was packed. Probably the whole school was here. And as soon as Wanda found a parking place, Pietro got out and disappeared into the crowd.

You decided to accompany Wanda as she entered the house. You went toward the second floor, and you lost sight of Wanda when a girl jumped on you, completely drunk and trying to kiss you.

- Wow, slow down there. - You said, helping her sit up. You found several empty and sealed bottles of water in one of the liquor containers around the house and handed one to her. - I want you to drink it all, okay?

The girl whimpered in confusion, but you waited. She seemed better, but you handed her another bottle just to be sure.

- Hey Peggy, I found you! - said a skinny boy you didn't know, walking up to you. He frowned, slightly startled, when he noticed you.

- Are you a friend of hers? - You asked him with distrust, and he nodded, looking mildly frightened.

- Yes, he is. This is Steve. - mumbled the girl sitting up, looking like she had a headache. - Thanks for the water, by the way.

- No problem. - You say. - Are you feeling well enough to be alone?

She nods slightly as she speaks:

- Yes, yes. Steve will take care of me now. Thanks again.

And then you patted Steve on the arm, and left the two of them, walking back through the crowd.

It took you many minutes to find Wanda again, because the party is so crowded. And when you reached her, she was pouring a glass of drink into her mouth.

- Hey, I've been looking all over for you. - You announce mildly annoyed. - What the hell are you doing?

- Getting drunk! - she answers ironically. - Isn't that what people are supposed to do at a party?

- I don't know, you do whatever you want to do. - You retort, and Wanda raises her eyebrows.

- Very funny. You're the only one who says that. - She says as she turns away. - See you later.

Wanda leaves walking through the party, and you see her grab another drink glass on the way.

You think you heard someone yell fight while you were walking through the party, and then the crowd moved, but you didn't go toward the people.

You are very angry, and impatient, wanting to be spending this evening with Wanda, but she doesn't seem interested.

And then you were walking back the way you came, and you ran into the same couple as before, only now they were kissing. You laughed lightly, the boy looked shy. You decided to stay out of their way, and went downstairs, only to run into Wanda again.

- Hey, why don't you let me have this one. - You spoke up as you noticed what must have been one of the many glasses of booze she had taken, and you raised your arm to pick it up, but Wanda was quicker, moving the glass away.

- No! This one is mine! - she grumbled, clearly drunk, trying to push you away. But you managed to take her glass, and she let out an annoyed sigh.

As you put the glass on a small table, she walked away again, and before you could follow, Pepper was at your side.

- Girl, how did you manage to do that? - she asked, looking excited. You frowned.

- What are you talking about?

- You made a freak act like a human being. - She commented with irony, but you weren't even paying attention anymore. Your gaze raced across the room after Wanda, and then someone turned on the radio in the next room and the crowd screamed attracting your attention.

You exclaimed in surprise when you noticed Wanda dancing on a table, without the jacket she was wearing earlier. Pepper ran in the same direction, joining in the shouts of celebration from the crowd around the table.

Walking towards the table you were a mixture of irritation, disbelief and embarrassment. Wanda was completely drunk, dancing sensually to the music, while people whistled and watched intently. She had her eyes closed, not even seeming to notice her surroundings.

And then she made a badly calculated move, and hit her head on the chandelier on the table. You were quick enough to catch her when she fell.

- Okay, that was enough. - You grumbled, helping her to her feet. - Are you okay?

- I'm fine! - she replied, but she could barely walk. You kept her from falling while grabbing the jacket she had thrown to the ground.

- Yeah, you're not fine. - You said. - Let's get out of here.

- I just need to lie down. - She mumbled, letting you hold her around the waist as you led her through the crowd.

- If you lie down, you'll sleep. - You say. - You can't sleep after hitting your head.

Wanda giggled.

- So many words. - She complained, and you thought it best to sit her down somewhere.

You reached the outside, as crowded as the house, but you managed to find a space in the garden for her to sit, and helped her to the bench. Wanda put her hand on her head where she had hit it.

- Hey, I need to talk to you. - Called Monica, walking up to you suddenly.

- I'm kinda busy. - You retorted, looking at Wanda.

- Five minutes, it's important.

You sighed, and took one last look at Wanda before walking away with Monica.

- Look, the deal is off, okay? - she said, and you blinked in confusion. - Pietro never wanted to be with me. He just wanted to have sex with Pepper.

You really didn't have the energy for that right now.

- Monica, where did all this come from now, huh? Weren't you two sneaking around together?

- I thought I was having a good time, but I saw them both at the party. - She explained, and you sighed impatiently.

- Hey, you like this boy don't you? - you asked, and she looked away, nodding. - And he's worth all this stuff you're doing?

- I thought so but...

- Yes or no? - She swallowed hard, and you assumed a serious posture. - Listen, Pepper Potts is not half as good as you, and you never let anyone make you think that you don't deserve something. Okay?

Monica nodded, looking surprised. You turned your face toward Wanda quickly.

- Look, I have to go. - You said as you turned and helped Wanda to her feet.

On the way out you made sure to grab one of the bottles of water you found in the barrels.

You let her rest her arm on your shoulder to keep from falling, while your arm went around her waist. You dragged her across the street, and you ended up climbing a small hill in the mansion area that ended at a playground.

- Why are you doing this? - she grumbled.

- I said, you might have a concussion. - You retorted. Wanda broke free of you and started trying to walk ahead. You kept your attention to catch her in case she fell.

- You don't even care if I don't wake up.

You let out a chuckle, stopping her from falling next.

- That's not true.

- Why not?

- Because then I'd have to date girls who like me. - You respond with humor.

- If you could find one. - She retorts, and you have a smile on your lips when you answer.

- Oh, see. Who needs affection when I get hate?

- I just need to sit for a while. - She says, closing her eyes for a moment, and you help her sit down on one of the swings behind you. She falls off balance a second after you put her there, but you are quick to help her stay seated.

- Jesus. - You sigh as you stop her from falling, and then sit down on the swing beside her while Wanda laughs lightly. - So, why do you let yourself be affected?

- By whom? - she asks.

- Potts.

Wanda looks away, shaking her head.

- I hate her.

You let out a tired sigh.

- Well, you have chosen the perfect revenge. Intravenous tequila. - You joke, making her laugh.

- It's what they say.... - She begins to speak while you are looking away, and with the momentary silence you stare back, startled to find her asleep. You get up hastily, touching her face.

- Hey, Wanda! Wake up! Come on, open your eyes! - You called out, patting her face lightly.

Wanda blinked, opening her eyes, and you let out a sigh of relief. And then you took your hands away from her face and stood up, while she continued to look at you.

- I like your eyes. - She says with a shy smile. And you smile too, but then she throws up on your shoes the next second and the moment is broken. You laugh incredulously, but pat her on the back.

- Time to go home, punk. - You comment softly.

It takes a moment for Wanda to calm down, and you hand her the bottle of water you got. Then you walk to her car, and she hands you the keys.

Just as you are about to arrive at her house many minutes after, she speaks again:

- I should do that. - She comments still sounding drunk.

- Do what?

- That. - She says, pointing to the radio. A rock song was playing.

- Start a band?

- No, install radios in cars. - She retorted with irony, and you laughed lightly. - Starting a band of course. My dad would love it.

You then stop the car in front of her house.

- You don't seem to be the type to ask your father's permission to do things. - You comment as you take out the keys.

Wanda blinks in surprise.

- So now you know me?

- I'm trying.

- People only know that I scare them.

- Yeah, I know the feeling. - You comment with a wry smile. Wanda looks at you with an intensity that makes your stomach turn. - So, your father looks tough.

- No, he just wants me to be someone I'm not. - She says, shaking her head slightly.

- Who?

- Pietro. - She answers with a frown. You let out an understanding sigh.

- No offense, I know everyone likes your brother and all, but he's a pretty shallow guy. - You say and Wanda looks at you in surprise, but then she has a little smile on her face.

- You know... you're not as obnoxious as I thought. - She says, making you laugh slightly. And then she looks at you like that again, and brings your faces together, closing her eyes. You swallow dryly, ignoring your nervousness, and look at the steering wheel.

- I think we should do this another time. - You say, and Wanda looks at you in disbelief, as you twiddle your fingers nervously. She frowns and looks ahead, then opens the car door and gets out.

You sit there for several minutes, hoping that Wanda won't be even more irritated with you than she usually is.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wandaxyou #wandaxreader #marvel imagines #high school au

663 notes · View notes