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asahicore · 1 year

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gorgeous - lhs

"you should take it as a compliment that i'm talking to everyone here but you / and you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in a darkened room" - gorgeous by taylor swift

series masterlist - part one - part two - part three

prompt 45 of the 100 kisses list, "we shouldn't do this" but they do so anyway

pairing. best friend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader synopsis. Heeseung comes back from his first year of university a new man - forget nervous, fidgety, dorky Heeseung and say hello to confident, teasing, flirty Heeseung. This change of attitude doesn't help your longstanding crush on your best friend's brother, and neither does the rising tension between the two of you - a tension that is bound to explode. genre. f2l, did i mention this was a best friend's brother au?, only fluff in this part but more to come, perhaps suggestive due to tension between reader and hee and makeout session lol word count. 8.1k (yes an asahicore fic under 10k thank u very much) a/n. hi loves i'm super happy to be posting this bc its the very first fic out of the 100 kisses event and its a project im really excited about !!! i know i said like 2 days ago it'd take me a while to write this but i got super motivated over the weekend and it turned out shorter than i thought and bestie @k-ingzo zo did a super amazing job at beta reading this so i was able to post it really quickly !! anyways hope you enjoy this, pls lmk,, and hope u look forward to the rest of the series as well !! ok bye

Nine years ago

“Y/N, honey, come meet your new friends!”

You rushed down the stairs at your mom’s call - at eight, you were always excited by the idea of new friends. She’d also called Naeun down, but lately, your sister had been acting like doing anything your parents asked her would cost her her life.

There in your living room were four unfamiliar faces, but your parents were smiling warmly, so you weren’t too nervous. Instinctively, you found your mother’s side and she rested her hand on your head, bending down to talk to you.

“Y/N, these are the Lees, they’ve just moved to the neighborhood.”

“Hi,” you greeted shyly, and were met with four hi’s in return.

“Heeseung and Seeun here started going to the same school as you,” she informs, nodding her head towards the young boy and girl. Now that she said it, the boy looked really familiar. You thought you recognized him from school that day - his glasses were definitely memorable. “And Seeun is the exact same age as you!” Your face lit up at that, and her expression mirrored yours as her lips curled into a smile. “Why don’t you show her your room?”

“Sure! Come on,” you said, holding out your hand for Seeun to take. She looked back at her parents who were nodding vigorously at her to follow you. You just played for half-an-hour, and Heeseung joined you quickly, saying he was bored with the adults downstairs. He didn’t talk much, instead found some of your toys to play with in his own corner.

When the Lees left, you were thinking two things: one, you couldn’t wait to tell Chaeyeong about Seeun, and two, that boy with the big glasses was really, really cute.

Now

“Seeun, why the hell didn’t you tell us that your brother is a mega-hottie now?!”

This is what your friend Chaeyeong whisper-screams in lieu of a greeting as she barges in Seeun’s room, plopping down on her bed like it was her own. It might as well have been, considering how long the three of you had known each other.

“If you ever refer to my brother as a mega-hottie again, I’m terminating this friendship,” Seeun replies, not bothering to look up from the bead bracelet she was currently making.

“Oh please, just because you’re his sister doesn’t mean you haven’t noticed how attractive he’s gotten,” Chaeyeong insists, but it just makes Seeun scrunch her nose in disgust.

“Chaeyeong, please stop making it so obvious you’re an only child,” Seeun sighs. You let out a giggle at your friends’ conversation as you search for another color that could go well with the pink beads you’d chosen for your own bracelet.

Stealthily, Chaeyeong leaves her spot on the bed and sneaks up to you. “Y/N!” she exclaims suddenly, wrapping her arms around your shoulders in a sneak-attack hug that makes you yelp. It makes you drop your half-finished bracelet, the beads falling all over the carpeted floor around you. You look up at Chaeyeong with a pout, but she just smiles at you and starts picking up the beads, gathering the tiny pink jewels in the palm of her hand.

“Y/N, you’re with me on this one, aren’t you?”

You ignore Seeun’s side-eye and give in to Chaeyeong’s encouraging expression. “I guess he does look very…” you pause to carefully consider your word choice. “Different,” you settle on.

“Different? That’s it? Y/N, you should really consider getting some glasses, seeing how you’re so blind to hot boys.” Cue a loud groan, Seeun’s courtesy. You just giggle again, slightly shaking your head at Chaeyeong’s antics. She rolled her eyes, disappointed that you didn’t back her up, but she drops the subject and switches to Seeun’s upcoming birthday party. Something great about being generally quiet? People don’t question it when you don’t partake much in a conversation. You listen and laugh as your friends bicker, but your mind is on something else.

Or rather, it’s on someone else.

Because Chaeyeong is absolutely right - Seeun’s brother has glowed up so much during his time away at university that you had a double-take when he opened the door for you earlier.

The sentence this is so unfair plays over and over in your head.

You’d heard of the freshman fifteen, of college first-years being so stressed over grades and having so little time that their diet consisted of instant ramen, quick cafeteria lunches, and an ungodly amount of coffee. And alcohol, on Friday nights, of course. After seeing how freshman year treated your older sister, you were dreading going to college, imagining it to be the complete opposite of what TV and movies had shown you.

So how the hell had Lee Heeseung gone from high school loser to campus hearthrob in the span of a mere nine months? (After some thinking, you realized that, well, if a woman can create a whole human being in nine months, maybe a regular guy can undergo great physical and mental change in that time, too.)

In September, when you’d last seen him, he wore the same glasses he had for all of high school - those slightly crooked ones that made his eyes look even bigger than they already were. He always had to push them back up his nose but he never bothered to get them fixed, even though all they needed was for the arms to be tightened. You remember his tic-like habit of readjusting his glasses, a habit so strong that he did it even when he wasn’t wearing them. Maybe they bothered him so much that he decided to get rid of them once and for all, you guess.

Indeed, when he greeted you at his front door earlier (even after years of knowing Seeun and her family and no matter how much they reassure you that it’s okay, you’re unable to come in without knocking first, like Chaeyeong does), he wasn’t wearing his thick lenses you’d grown fond of. His eyes didn’t look unfocused like they usually would without glasses, so you assumed he’d switched to contact lenses - you knew it wasn’t Lasik surgery, because Seeun was always complaining that her parents wouldn’t pay for her or her brother to receive it.

But it wasn’t just the glasses, of course not. There was an ease and confidence about him that he didn’t have before - no awkward giggles, no darting eyes, no weirdly positioned limbs. He held the door open for you and kept his eyes on you as you walked in, saying it was nice to see you again and asking if you were happy to be done with high school. You already weren’t expecting Heeseung to open the door in Seeun’s stead, so him actually looking at you while he spoke instead of mumbling a few words in your general direction and scratching the back of his neck rendered you completely flustered, cheeks heating up embarrassingly quickly.

His hair was different: it used to sit there atop Heeseung’s head, unsure what to do with itself, but now it was purposefully cut and slightly pushed back. When he turned his head, you saw something shiny dangling from his left ear.

Heeseung had a piercing. Shy, nervous, fidgety electronics club president Heeseung had a goddamn piercing, and it looked amazing.

And then he laughed. He actually had the audacity to laugh, and then ruffle your hair. You could’ve died right then and there. “You’re still just as cute as before,” he mused, beaming down at you. Then he walked away towards the living room, saying Seeun was in her room upstairs. As if nothing happened. As if you weren’t on the verge of combusting, your saving grace being your friend’s voice calling out your name. You ran up the stairs, wanting to get as far away from Heeseung and his smile and his voice and his touch as possible. You busied yourself with the pearls and the small bracelet-making station Seeun had organized, trying not to think about the vein that ran down his forearm or about how his shoulders looked wider than before. And you’d managed to do that, until Chaeyeong brought him up.

It wasn’t unfair because he’d grown mysteriously hot - it was unfair because to you, Heeseung had always been the cutest boy around, but now other people had surely noticed too, Chaeyeong amongst them. Now, you were just one of the many girls that had a crush on Heeseung, even if yours dated back to the first time you’d met him when the Lees moved into the neighborhood.

Their parents had been delighted that two girls of their daughter’s age - eight, to be precise - lived on their street. You were delighted that the cute boy you’d seen at school that day was her big brother, just one year older. Chaeyeong and you gladly welcomed Seeun into your friendship and you had each other’s back through the awkward phases of your early teenage years and the stressful times as high school seniors getting ready for college. You shared everything - clothes, jewelry, homework answers, gossip, tears, laughter. Secrets.

You liked to think there wasn’t a thing you didn’t know about them, but you couldn’t say the opposite was true - there was a secret you had to keep from them. A secret that grew bigger and bigger as time passed, but that you needed to keep locked in.

You had the biggest crush known to mankind on your best friend’s brother. It was either keep quiet or tell both of your friends; you trusted Chaeyeong, but you didn’t want her to carry that burden. You had no idea what Seeun’s reaction would be if you admitted you liked her brother, but you didn’t want to risk it. Every best friend’s brother (or brother’s best friend) romance you’d read had told you that the former was always against and deeply disgusted by the idea of their friend dating the latter. The last thing you wanted to do was make things weird, so you said nothing and suffered in silence, as one does. And so, for years, Heeseung was your little secret.

But not anymore, apparently. And it felt unfair. You didn’t have much of a chance to begin with, but now, getting with Heeseung was inimaginable. You’d just have to continue pining from far away, just as you’d gotten used to.

Four years ago

Your heart pounded as you made your way to the bus stop, steps heavy and head full of thoughts. Even though your older sister told you there’s nothing to worry about, you couldn’t help it. You were used to walking to school, not taking the bus. After three years of seeing the same people roaming the hallways, it was nerve-wracking to arrive at a place where most faces would be completely unfamiliar. You didn’t know what your teachers would be like, you were scared your classes would be a hundred times harder than before, you heard the cafeteria food was really bad. In short, you were absolutely dreading high school. And today was your first day.

The only thing that calmed you down was knowing that in a few minutes, you’d be with Seeun and Chaeyeong, and just seeing them would make you feel instantly better. You were meeting at the bus stop.

But when you reached it, neither of your friends were there. You shouldn’t have been surprised, since you’d come ten minutes early, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. That is, until you recognized someone else.

“Heeseung?” you called out before you could stop yourself. The boy snapped his head in your direction, and his eyes widened at the sight of you. Simple things like that made your heart burst with adoration for him.

“Oh, h-hi, Y/N.” He smiled the shy smile you loved so much and looked back at his feet, holding on tightly to the straps of his backpack. You stood next to him, close enough to have a conversation if he wanted to but not so close that it’d be weird.

Heeseung was the only person you felt awkward around. Even though you were on the quieter side and strangers weren’t your favorite people per se, being around people you didn’t know well wasn’t your definition of torture like it seemed to be for Heeseung and other kids from your school. But Heeseung’s awkwardness was contagious, and your crush on him didn’t help your ease of mind - so you imitated his posture, swaying back and forth on your feet as you held onto your backpack straps just to have something to hold onto. You smiled at the ground, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by looking at him, but that meant you missed the growing blush on his cheeks.

“So,” he started, “nervous?” He glanced quickly, just once, at you. You were so surprised at his breaking the silence, used to a quiet Heeseung, that you forgot to answer, simply staring at him. His panicked expression and mumblings were what jolted you out of your daze. “I-I mean, you know, cause it’s your first day and everything, and I was really nervous last year- I am today, too, actually- so I thought maybe, you know, you’re nervous too, but maybe you’re not, I don’t-”

He said all of this so quickly, you started laughing, slightly bending over. He let out a chuckle too, but as you continued laughing, a pout started to form on his lips. “What’s so funny…” you heard him grumble as he kicked a non-existent pebble.

“Sorry,” you said, regaining your breath. “I’m sorry, Heeseung.” The sound of his name made him glance at you again. You wished you could kiss the pout off his lips. “I was nervous, actually. But I feel better now.”

A quick smile appeared on his lips, but he willed it away. “I’m glad my embarrassment made you feel better,” he sighed.

You gently kicked his shoe with yours to make him look at you. “No, it’s because you made me laugh. I needed it. Thanks,” you corrected with a smile. Heeseung may have made you feel awkward, but the easiness with which he always got flustered made you love to tease him slightly.

His smile widened as he looked away once more, the blush having spread to his whole face by then. “Whatever,” he murmured. There was no time to say anything else because Seeun called out your name, practically skipping towards you.

She gave you an excited hug as a greeting before turning towards her brother with a glare, punching him hard on the bicep, making him wince in pain and reach his hand to cover his arm where she hit him. “Thanks for waiting for me, loser.”

“You were gonna make us late!” he whined, rubbing his arm.

“Yeah, ‘cause I obviously missed the bus,” she tutted.

You watched the siblings with an amused smile, used to the exact same kind of banter at home. Your sister, who was in her last year of high school, had decided not to drive you for some reason only an older sister could make up and pretend was reasonable. Your parents had tried to convince her, but you didn’t mind taking the bus with your friends, so they didn’t push it, just glad they could somehow keep the both of you happy.

Heeseung didn’t say anything in return. Your eyes met for a moment, and his frown relaxed into a smile when he caught your expression. It lasted a second but it was enough to make your stomach twist. Seeun, oblivious, grabbed your arm and started telling you about all the things she was excited about for today. You were worried Chaeyeong wasn’t going to make it, but her footsteps were loud as she ran, reaching you just as the bus stopped in front of you. Heeseung took what you soon found out was his usual spot at the front of the bus while your friends dragged you towards the back of it. You tried not to let your thoughts drift towards the boy with the messy black hair and crooked glasses, but his shy smile replayed in your mind all day. For a year, you’d gotten used to not going to the same school as him - you didn’t know how you’d survive seeing him at least five days a week once again.

Now

You were really determined to not let Heeseung’s newfound confidence sway you, physically shaking your head every time a thought of him popped in your head (useless) and racking your brain for reasons you shouldn’t like him (not many of those). There was just one teeny, tiny problem.

He was making it impossible to pine for him at a distance.

It seemed like everywhere you went, he was there. Maybe that was due to the fact that your most frequently visited place was literally his house, but still. It was frustrating. You didn’t need to be met with his stupid smile whenever he opened the door for you, you didn’t need to catch him cutely napping - how was that even possible?! - in the living room, a random sitcom still playing on the TV, you didn’t need to hear his laughter when his friends were over, and you definitely did not need to see him half-naked as he came out of the bathroom, hair wet from the shower and sticking to his forehead, towel wrapped low around his hips and his abs fully on display. Because of course, you had to be in the hallway, heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water, at the exact same time as him.

You almost start to resent the fact that Seeun had the comfiest bedroom out of the three of you, as well as the most snack-filled house, which was why you had decided years ago to hang out there the most. Especially during school breaks, you were there almost every day, so you were bound to see Heeseung a lot. But for some reason, that didn’t seem to be enough, and over the course of June, you also ran into him while shoe-shopping with your mom, then another time as you entered the public library just when he left it, and another when your friends and his had decided to get ice cream at the same time. It was like you couldn’t escape him.

The worst part? Every time he saw you, while you simultaneously wanted to run away from him and into his arms, his damnedly handsome face broke into a stupidly beautiful smile that looked far too genuine for your heart. “Y/N! Funny seeing you here!”

No, Heeseung, not funny.

You didn’t want to be that girl whose brain cells stopped working whenever she encountered an attractive male specimen, but that was apparently who you were meant to be, because all words left you when you saw Heeseung. Although you’d been somewhat flustered around him in the past, he was always much more so than you, which reassured you and gave you enough confidence to actually talk to him. But now that he had realized how handsome he was and was clearly using that newfound knowledge against you (or so you thought), you were unable to string a coherent sentence when his shiny eyes bore into yours.

You think he might’ve sensed your awkwardness, because he never lingered, never made useless small talk, just asked about your favorite ice cream flavor or the book he’d checked out, patted your head, then was on his way.

There were so many butterflies in your stomach, you were scared it might fly away.

One afternoon in the middle of July, you and your friends come back from the city pool completely exhausted after playing around for hours in the water. All bundled up and close together, you try to nap on Seeun’s bed. Keyword try, because even though your friends’ soft snores quickly start to fill the silence of the room, you can’t seem to fall asleep, no matter how heavy your eyes feel.

Quietly, you get out of bed and head downstairs to the kitchen, hoping a cold glass of water will help sleep come to you like it usually does. You shouldn’t be surprised to see Heeseung in the dining room/kitchen area, busy with a puzzle, the pieces of which he’s spread out all over the table, but your heart still does a flip. He must be really engrossed in it, because he doesn’t notice your presence in the room until you fill a glass with ice, the sudden sound making his head snap up at you. You hate that his face breaks into a grin as soon as he sees you.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! What are you doing?”

“Just getting some water,” you explain, raising your glass with a small smile. Your whole body tells you to run away, back to Seeun’s bedroom, but something in your gut tells you to stay, to get closer to Heeseung. So you do. “What about you?” you ask, slowly making your way towards the table and peering at the puzzle in progress.

“Just whipping up some brownies,” he retorts with a devilish smirk, big eyes looking up at you.

You fight back a smile in vain. “Shut up,” you mumble, but take a seat next to him anyway. He seems slightly taken aback by the sudden proximity, and you are too, but you keep your gaze focused on the puzzle in front of you so that you can’t think too much about how close you’re sitting, and how your knees could touch if you angled them just so.

For a small while you sit in silence, watching as he puts pieces together and even finding a couple of your own. It’s a one-thousand piece jigsaw that he’s clearly only just started, but Heeseung doesn’t seem fazed by that. You like seeing how his eyebrows slightly furrow when he’s searching for a particular piece, and the pleased smirk that graces his lips when he finds it. You break the silence after a few minutes.

“So you still like puzzles, then?” you ask, voice low. You’ve always been told you speak quietly - even too quietly sometimes, but you can’t always help it. Especially in situations like this, when it’s silent around you anyways, you don’t see the point of raising your voice. When Heeseung replies, he speaks at the same volume as you, and there’s something comforting about it, about speaking quietly in such a spacious and sunlit room - the words you share are for you two, and you two only.

“Yep, ever since that day.” He glances quickly at you and smiles at the piece in his hand, and it’s like getting a glimpse of the Heeseung you had known all those years. Your heart warms at the sight.

“That day?”

This makes him look properly at you, his eyes darting back and forth between yours as if searching for something there. Your heart is now on fire. “Don’t you remember?”

You tilt your head in response and he turns his attention back to the puzzle. “It was at this table, too. I think your grandparents- your grandma, I think? Anyway, someone had gotten you a puzzle for your birthday.”

You ‘ah’ in realization. “Of course!”

Two years ago

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this, it’s so complicated,” Seeun pouted apologetically, looking at you sadly. “We’ve been here like an hour and we’ve barely gotten anywhere.”

Chaeyeong, head on the table, groaned in agreement. You followed your friend’s gaze to the puzzle in front of you - she was right, you hadn’t made much progress. But you liked it. The picture was pretty and you’d like to see it completed, but more than that, you liked finding the right piece, figuring out strategies.

You hummed, mirroring Seeun’s pout. Chaeyeong snapped her head back up to look at you. You’d think she hadn’t slept in days, but that was just bored Chaeyeong. You loved your friend and her over-dramatic antics. “Can we just take a break?” she asked, tone like you’d kidnapped and forced her to do this.

“You guys go ahead.” You smiled. “I like it, I can just continue this for a while and you guys do whatever you want.” The three of you spent so much time together that you didn’t need to be doing an activity together to be happy - being in each other’s general vicinity was enough to be considered a hang-out.

“You sure?” Seeun asked.

“Yeah, ‘course.” You chuckled at the obvious relief on your friend’s faces. “Just don’t watch the next Extraordinary You episode without me, okay?”

They both gasped and clutched their hearts like you’d accused them of murder. “How could you even think that, Y/N?!” Chaeyeong exclaimed.

“We would never!” Seeun added.

You shook your head at your friends’ antics, laughing as you waved them off. “Just go, already.”

“Yes, ma’am!” And with that, they were off, running up the stairs to Seeun’s bedroom.

You were only on your own for around ten minutes - the front door opened and closed, and the quiet shuffle of shoes being taken off and replaced with slippers let you know Heeseung had just come home. Seeun always made a show of being exhausted after school, groaning as she threw her backpack to the ground, while Mr and Mrs Lee always announced their arrival with a sometimes cheery, sometimes tired ‘I’m home!’. But Heeseung, quiet as always, simply set his backpack next to the stairs, slipped into his slippers and made his way to the kitchen, fond of a quick snack after school. Even Chaeyeong made herself more known when she entered the Lee household.

Every day except for Fridays, he came home two hours later than his sister because of either magic or electronics club (yes, magic club. It was cute, okay?!). You always looked forward to the monthly meeting of the book club you were in, partly because it meant you could take the bus back with Heeseung afterwards. Even if the ride was usually mainly silent, just sitting next to him was enough for your heart to do all sorts of tricks worthy of an Olympic gymnast.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” he greeted softly, probably surprised at seeing you alone at the dinner table.

“Hi, Heeseung. How was the electronics club?” You wanted to make conversation, but you winced immediately at your words - was it normal for you to know what club he had on what days?

But Heeseung seemed to pay it no mind, just smiling shyly, a blush already creeping on his cheeks. “It was nice, thanks.” He opened the fridge, taking out a carton of milk. “Do you want a glass?” When you didn’t respond immediately, he was quick to add, “Of milk? O-or orange juice? Or I can make some tea, if you want-”

His hands were already busy with preparing whatever drink he thought you might want. You held back a chuckle and smiled as you answered, “Milk is fine, thanks.”

His blush spread all the way down his neck and you turned your attention back to the puzzle so he wouldn’t see your grin. “Right, milk. Milk,” he stammered, then got two glasses out of the cupboard.

You loved moments like these with Heeseung - flustered, light-hearted, slightly awkward, moments that made you want to giggle out of nerves and delight. Basically every moment with him was like this, so it’d be more accurate to say you loved every moment with him.

“I didn’t know you liked puzzles,” he said, an upward tilt to his voice, as he set your glass next to you and took a seat across from you. He peered down at the pieces spread out in front of you, fixed his glasses on his nose, and took a big gulp of milk.

“I didn’t either,” you said with a chuckle, and stammered out an explanation when he looked up at you questioningly. “My, um, my grandma gave this to me for my birthday last month. She’s got a lot of grandkids, you know, and I think she might’ve mixed up my other cousin who likes puzzles and me…” Heeseung nods slowly, the corners of his lips tugging up in amusement. “But I don’t mind it,” you add, “I’m having fun, actually. Seeun and Chaeyeong are of a different mind, though. It’s a bit hard doing it on my own but I like it anyway.”

“I can help you,” he suddenly blurted out, and he looked just as surprised at his words as you were. “If you want.”

You smiled at him, and Heeseung and you actually looked at each other, actually held eye contact for three seconds, until you felt your face burn and had to look away. “Sure, yeah, that’d be nice.”

Although it took some time to finish the puzzle - putting 500 pieces together was a lot trickier than you thought it’d be - Heeseung and you managed to do it, high fiving celebratorily after almost two hours of hard work.

Now

“I just had a lot of fun that day.” Heeseung shrugs. “Plus, I already liked things like Legos and Rubik’s cubes, so it made sense I’d like puzzles, too.”

You nod in response, watching as he twirls a puzzle piece between his thumb and middle finger. “It’s funny that my grandma’s mistake is what made you discover your love for puzzles.”

Heeseung chuckles along with you, and you’re relieved the atmosphere is somewhat lighter than before until he looks straight into your eyes, locking your gaze in his own, and a breath gets trapped in your throat. “I’m glad she did that, otherwise we wouldn’t be here right now.”

You’re still staring at him, dumbfounded, mouth agape, when he looks away with a smirk and turns his attention back to the puzzle, analyzing it seriously as if nothing happened. You come back to your senses after a few seconds, clearing your throat before imitating Heeseung and trying to focus on the puzzle once again. But that’s hard to do when your hands brush ever-so-slightly every time you fumble around the pile for a particular piece, or every time he hits your knee with his, inadvertently or to tease you, you’re not sure.

The first thing to do when starting a puzzle is looking for all the side pieces to build the frame. When Heeseung spots one in the pile next to you, he leans in to grab it, and he’s suddenly close enough for you to get a whiff of his cologne that had faded over the day. You think he’ll just take the piece and sit back in his seat, but instead, he turns his head towards you, and that’s when you realize just how close you are. Close enough that it wouldn’t be hard to close the gap and have your lips on his - just as the thought hits you, his eyes drift down to your parted lips. Is he thinking the same thing?

You take a sharp breath in, eyes fixed on Heeseung, mind racing with thoughts and assumptions of what might be going through his head right now. But your brain goes haywire when a smirk blooms on his lips, clearly enjoying your reaction. His gaze finds your eyes once more and he raises the piece between the two of you, in the small space that separates you. “Got it,” he says quietly, voice lower than usual. It makes your insides melt. He could be very well talking about you - he’s got you absolutely wrapped around his finger, and he seems to know it.

He turns back to the puzzle, smirk still on his lips, and you’re so embarrassed and confused that your flight instinct kicks in. The screech of your chair as you push it back and stand up makes Heeseung look up at you again, his smirk having dissolved in surprise and - disappointment?

No time to ponder, you need to get. out. of. here.

“Right, well, that was fun, haha,” you breathe out, actually saying the word ‘haha’ and wanting to run away even more thereafter. “I should probably head back to the girls, now.” You’re already backing up and walking away when Heeseung calls out your name, but you just turn around and rush back upstairs, yelling out a small “bye, Heeseung!” on your way.

You’re already back in Seeun’s bedroom when Heeseung shakes his head at your sudden disappearance, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Cute,” he says under his breath.

To minimize any chances of running into Heeseung, over the next two weeks, you ask Chaeyeong and Seeun if you could hang out at your house more often, using the excuse that you want to spend as much time as possible there before leaving off to college. They don’t question it too much - next year, they’ll be able to come back fairly regularly to their parent’s houses, since the college they’re going to is less than an hour-long car ride away, but you’ll be further away, too far to come back home often.

It just so happens to be the university Heeseung is studying at, but you don’t need to worry about that right now. They had one of the best English Lit programs in your area and you’d been wanting to go there for all of your high school years - you used to think of Heeseung’s going there as a pro, but right now, it felt more like a con.

You manage to only run into him twice over the course of those two weeks, and both times, just in passing. But now it’s the night of Seeun’s birthday party and it’s impossible to pretend he isn’t there even when you’re in a crowded room together. Heeseung and Seeun’s parents have lended their house for their kids to have a party there, using it as an opportunity to have a date night, and Heeseung and his friends have graciously provided a big portion of the alcohol, saying it was their birthday gift.

You aren’t the biggest fan of alcohol, so you opt for the fruitier, lighter drinks, but still, two hours after the party starts, you can already feel your head start to spin, your voice is louder, everything makes you laugh. When a friend from school tells you they’re playing seven minutes in heaven in the hallway upstairs, you think that's the funniest thing you’ve ever heard and immediately agree to join.

The sight of Heeseung sitting in the circle, already looking at you with a lopsided smile, almost sobers you up completely.

You’d tried to avoid him as best as you could, but it was like you couldn’t escape him - maybe that was due to the fact that the heart of the party was kept to the kitchen and the living room, just a few people sitting on the stairs at the entrance to get away from the noise, but still, it annoyed you to no end that you had to keep seeing him everywhere. Maybe that was also what made the alcohol easier to down.

At some point, you were in the kitchen, doing a shot of God-knows-what with girls from school. You heard his voice before you saw him, and it made you roll your eyes but also your heart skip a beat. “Didn’t know you were such a drinker, Y/N.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and when his face came into view, you wanted to slap it away. Or kiss it away, maybe.

“I’m not, I’m just trying to have fun,” you retorted, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you poured yourself another shot. I Gotta Feeling by Black Eyed Peas started playing in the next room and the girls shrieked before rushing to the made-up dancefloor. You wanted to join them, but something kept your feet firmly planted at the kitchen counter.

Before you could bring the shot glass to your lips, however, Heeseung stole it from you and downed it himself. “Hey!” you protested, but it was done, and he was scrunching his nose at the bitter taste, shaking his head. You wished he could stop being attractive for one damn second.

“You don’t need that to have fun.”

He placed his forearms on the kitchen counter and leaned on them, forcing him to look up at you. You had no idea what the hell he meant by that, nor did you want to try and figure it out - all you knew was that you couldn’t stay there with him when he looked at you so intently, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, hair perfectly disheveled and biceps apparent even under his t-shirt sleeves.

“You’re right, I don’t,” you made yourself say, and spun on your heels to join your friends on the dancefloor.

And a few drinks later, here you are, sitting in a circle on the hallway floor, Heeseung right in front of you, leaning back on his palms and looking down at you with that same stupid smirk once again.

The game goes as such: one person spins the bottle twice, and the people it lands on have to go to a bedroom closet for seven minutes (timed carefully by Jake, Heeseung’s friend who is taking this game very seriously) to do whatever they want, while the others occupy themselves with other games. When the seven minutes are up, the doors burst open, and you have to leave the closet.

And because it wouldn’t be any fun otherwise, after a few rounds, the bottle points straight at you, then straight at Heeseung, and before you know it, everyone except for Seeun is cheering, and Heeseung is holding out his hand for you to take, and you do, and he raises you up, and together, you head to his closet, as per the rules of this stupid middle-school game you should never have agreed to play in the first place. You can barely Seeun’s voice as she shouts, “Y/N, I trust you!”, which just makes Chaeyeong burst into laughter and whoop louder for you. You’d also barely registered Heeseung’s friends clapping each other’s backs, smiling like they were in on something.

The sound of the closet door shutting is what snaps you out of your daze. You hadn’t even realized Heeseung had kept your hand in his until he released it, leaning his back against one wall of the closet, facing you. All three bedrooms in the Lees’ house had built-in walk-in closets which meant you weren’t sandwiched between Heeseung and his clothes, but still, you wished you could put more distance between your two bodies - one step closer, and you were done for.

It wasn’t just Heeseung’s presence in the narrow space - it was his scent filling your nostrils, the combined smell of the cologne he was wearing, of the fabric softener on his clothes, and an unfamiliar scent you somehow recognized as unique to Heeseung, his skin, his hair, smells you’d wanted to discover for years but never got close enough to. Well, now you did. And it was intoxicating - you wanted more, wanted to bury your face in the crook of his neck and inhale. You wanted to know what his reaction would be, if he’d let you, if he’d push you away.

All those thoughts were running wild in your head. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your stomach was in messy knots, your hands were sweaty and you had no idea where to place them, your eyes wouldn’t stop darting around the dark room. Everywhere but Heeseung. You could feel his eyes on you, but you were too nervous to meet them.

Your breathing must’ve gotten loud enough for him to hear, because all of a sudden, you feel his hand take yours, and he’s stood up from his position against the wall, his body too close to yours for your heart to handle. His thumb rubs what he must think are comforting semi-circles on the back of your hand, but the touch just destroys any capability of thinking straight you had left.

“Y/N,” he calls out, and the sound of his voice makes your eyes close shut. You cannot give in. You had seen Seeun’s disgusted expression when you and Heeseung were picked for the game - if just the idea of you and her brother kissing repulses her, what would she say if she knew it actually happened, or if you started dating? You may have the biggest crush ever on Heeseung, but no one was worth losing your friendship with Seeun.

“Calm down,” he says, and you wish you could be as steady as his voice. “There’s no reason to be nervous.”

This makes you scoff. “You touching me is not helping my nervousness.” The words are out before you can stop them, and in the darkness of the room, you have to concentrate to make out the tilt of Heeseung’s head. You don’t need to see it to know he’s smiling, the satisfied smirk that has been gracing his features for the past month and a half.

“Yeah? Why is that?”

You take your hand out of Heeseung’s and cross your arms over your chest. “You know why,” you say, not intending your voice to come out as weak as it does.

Heeseung takes another step closer to you, and the only ray of light that comes through the panels of the closet door hits his face, making it visible for you to see. “I do, but I want you to tell me.” Another step, making you back up until you hit the wall behind you.

You call out his name shakily. His lips are right in front of you at this point, and you can’t not look at them.

He places a hand delicately on your waist, as if not wanting to scare you off. “Yeah?” He’s so close now that you can feel his breath fanning on your lips.

“We shouldn’t do this,” you say, and finally, your voice is strong like you want it to - but Heeseung isn’t deterred by it.

“Do what?” he asks, pretending to be stupid. “We haven’t done anything. Not yet.” He adds the last part in a whisper, his eyes drifting down to your lips, and you can feel your resolve crumbling piece by piece, the opposite of completing a puzzle.

“You know what I’m talking about,” you whisper back, voice almost pleading with him. Stop this before it’s too late, you want to tell him, but for some reason, at this point, you’re more scared of nothing happening than something happening.

“I do, but I want you to tell me,” he repeats, and you can’t help but let out a chuckle. Laughing helps relieve the tension, but it’s back as quickly as it left when his hold on your waist gets tighter, bringing you closer to him. Your hands that had fallen to your side come up to grab the sides of his t-shirt, gathering the fabric in your fists. There’s no going back now, you can tell - you wait for Heeseung to make a move, both dreading it and craving the relief that will come with it.

Heeseung’s free hand comes up to your face, and he traces your jawline with a knuckle before taking your chin in two of his fingers, gently raising it so that your face is angled up towards him. His touch makes your skin burn and takes away your ability to breathe properly.

“We shouldn’t do this,” you repeat, voice barely audible, a weak and half-hearted attempt at stopping this now that you still can.

“No, we shouldn’t,” he agrees, and before you can say or do anything else, Heeseung presses his lips to yours, finally, finally.

His lips are just as soft as you’d expected them to be, and the kiss is light, slow, careful. You’re grateful for it, because you’re not a very experienced kisser - if Heeseung had plunged his tongue directly into your mouth, you wouldn’t have known what to do. It’s almost like he knows this, like he’s giving you time to figure it out, to get used to it. His hand snakes its way to the small of your back, pressing you closer to him, while the other cups your cheek with his palm. You, on the other hand, have completely forgotten about your hands, only able to focus on where your lips meet.

It’s easy to fall into Heeseung’s rhythm, to let him take control of the kiss. But maybe it’s too easy, because soon enough, you start to want more - as amazing as this is right now, a slow kiss like this is not enough to have dissolved the tension in your body. You remember your hands and inch them up to his hair, your fingers finding purchase there and slightly pulling as you open your mouth just a bit wider, hoping Heeseung will get the message.

For a second, you think you’ve got it all wrong - Heeseung pulls back an inch, peering down at you. You’re both breathing heavily, and you’re scared you might have gone too far. But then, he murmurs a small fuck under his breath, and just like that, his lips are back on yours, your back is pressed against the wall again, his body encaging your smaller one. The kiss now is nothing like it was seconds ago - it’s turned hungry, hot, messy. You love it.

You had no idea you would want to kiss Heeseung like this, but now that you were doing it, you couldn’t get enough. The intensity with which he held you, the feel of his tongue against yours, the small groans that escaped his lips every time you pulled on his hair, it was all making you more drunk than the alcohol had.

You swear you haven’t even been kissing for two minutes, but then, all of a sudden, the doors are snapped open, and light pours in the closet, and Heeseung’s lips aren’t on yours anymore. You hadn’t heard the timer go off, too engrossed in Heeseung to pay anything else any mind. When you turn your head, Chaeyeong and Jake are staring at you and Heeseung, mouths wide open and eyes darting back and forth between the two of you.

“Oh. My. God,” Chaeyeong says, while Jake starts laughing. A shy smile appears on Heeseung’s lips, even plumper and pinker than usual from your kiss. His hair is a mess, and you’re sure you don’t look too different. He scratches the back of his neck, and you can’t believe this sheepish boy is the same that was kissing you roughly not a minute ago.

“Chaeyeong,” you cry out, voice already pleading as you take a step out of the closet and take both of her hands in yours. “Seeun can’t know about this.” She raises her eyebrows in surprise but nods her head in agreement, and you’ve never been so thankful for your friend as now.

“Would she really mind?” Jake asks, looking at you, then at his friend. You turn to look at Heeseung behind you, who purses his lips.

“I’m not sure, but I have a feeling she would… She’s always told me she didn't want me hanging out with her friends,” Heeseung says, and you and Chaeyeong exchange a look; this was news to both of you.

You have no further time to discuss it, however, because Seeun’s voice calling out your name and Heeseung’s make all four of you widen your eyes. Chaeyeong fixes your clothes and hair as best as she can, then smiles at you reassuringly and nods, prompting you to imitate her. She ushers Heeseung into his bathroom and tells him to “freshen up or whatever,” and you, Jake and Chaeyeong leave the room just as Seeun reaches the door.

“Where’s Heeseung?” she asks, not a trace of suspicion in her voice, peering behind you into her brother’s dark room.

“Just needed the toilet,” Jake answers quickly, and that seems to convince her.

She turns to you, an amused expression on her face. “Hope that wasn’t too awkward.”

You’re so surprised at your friend’s quickness to assume that nothing could happen between you and her brother, as if the idea was truly unfathomable to her, but you figure it’s for the best. You all head back into the party, Heeseung appearing some five minutes later. He scans the room for you, and when you make eye contact from across the crowded living room, he smiles, his shy, genuine smile that you’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

You already miss him, you realize, his lips, his touch, his scent. That’s how you know that you’re in deep, deep shit.

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl (ask to be removed/added!)

#enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung fanfiction #enhypen imagines #heeseung imagines

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ironboyxs · 6 months

Text

Sea Blood

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Male!Brother Reader

Word count: 1491

Summary: Percy Jackson, now a young adult, lived a relatively quiet life after his many adventures as a demigod. He was in an interval of missions and taking advantage of the time in Camp Half-Blood. Then, one day, a series of events, or he would discover a secret that would change his life forever.

As incredible as it may seem, it was a calm day at Camp Half-Blood. The world wasn't about to be destroyed or anything like that. There were only young campers enjoying the summer and training as usual. Percy was happy to have some calm and peace, he was sitting with Annabeth by the sea and the two had planned a romantic picnic. Percy didn't remember the last time he was able to spend a calm moment with his girlfriend.

But well, he was Percy Jackson, peace and tranquility didn't suit him very much.

- Percy! Annabeth! Thank the gods I found you. – Will Solace came running out of breath, with a look on his face that something clearly wasn't quite right.

- What is it? Something happened? Monster? Anyone injured? – Annabeth already got up worried.

- Not exactly, it's Rachel, she... has a prophecy.

- Man, if I have to hear one more “great prophecy” I’m going to retire and live at the bottom of the sea. – Percy said, already indignant at the disapproving look that Annabeth gave him.

- It is not a “great prophecy”. – Will explained – Actually we don't know what prophecy it is, the Oracle demands to speak to you Percy.

Percy froze. That obviously couldn't be a good thing. Soon he and Annabeth were accompanying Will to the Big House where Rachel was sitting in a chair, surrounded by the flickering spirit of the Oracle of Delphi. Percy thought he would never get used to seeing his friend like this.

- Percy Jackson. – The Oracle's voice echoed throughout the room. - At high tide, the secret will be revealed, two sons of Poseidon, united by destiny. The sea will test their bond, and the fate of the demigods will depend on their union.

Rachel's head fell to the side, making her red hair cover her face, she used to get tired after prophecies but surprisingly she began to rise with difficulty from the chair.

- Rachel, be careful, you're still weak. – Said Chiron, who was watching everything from the corner of the room.

- Percy, are you okay? – Rachel asked.

- I'm the one asking you, it's not me who has a green spirit coming out of my mouth out of nowhere.

- Idiot, I'm fine. I'm referring to the prophecy.

- Another confused one... couldn't you have a chat with this spirit and see if it can be clearer?

- You know it doesn't work like that. – Rachel said, lightly punching Percy on the shoulder.

- So the prophecy is about me and Tyson, right? I will meet him at high tide, will we discover a secret that will save the demigods? Something like that?

- I don't think the prophecy is talking about Tyson... – Annabeth said.

- Annabeth, if another son of Poseidon existed, we would have noticed. – Chiron said.

- Yes, just as we perceive a son of Hades. – Annabeth wasn't sarcastic but it was obvious to her.

- You and Tyson have already been united by destiny before Percy, it has to be someone different. – Annabeth explained.

- I feel the same thing. – Rachel agreed.

And then first thing in the morning Percy was going into the sea, he knew it wouldn't be so easy to get help from his father. But he knew he could count on the ocean's help. He focused on the water, on the magical powers that could act on it. Maybe if this new demigod was manipulating the ocean in some way he would be able to feel it.

And he was right, he felt a slight tug, as if the current was telling him where to look, and soon he was letting himself be carried away by the current.

Percy follows the clues left by the water and arrives at a remote location, close to a vast and mysterious ocean. He feels an aura of aquatic power in the air and is determined to unlock the secret of the prophecy. As he walks along the beach, he notices a lone figure at the water's edge. The figure appears to be controlling the sea waves with ease.

As Percy approaches, he realizes that the figure is a young demigod, with dark hair and blue eyes, much like his own. The young man seems to be at peace with the ocean, as if it were a natural extension of it. Percy feels an immediate connection to this strange demigod, but he also realizes something is wrong. The aura of power around the boy is undeniable, but he looks tired and lost.

- Who are you? – Said the boy before Percy got closer.

He stood up and easily created a water trident in his hand.

- I'm extremely tired so if you're a monster I advise you not to irritate me now. – He seemed ready to attack if necessary.

- My name is Percy Jackson. I am a demigod, a son of Poseidon. And I don't think I need to explain the concept of this to you, apparently.

The boy looks into Percy's eyes, his own blue eyes reflecting recognition and shock.

- You are the famous Percy Jackson. I'm Y/N. I am also the son of Poseidon, the eldest son.

- Eldest? How is this possible?

- I was born before you, it's not very difficult to understand. – Y/N replied sarcastically.

- But we should have known about your existence, with everything that happened, with the danger of a son of the big three. How come we didn't know anything about you?

- When I was born, my mother didn't want me, she threw me into the sea and Poseidon dragged me to the bottom. I grew up underwater, raised by sea spirits. I was kept hidden during the Titan War.

- Couldn’t you never leave the sea? – Percy asked, imagining how difficult that must have been for the boy.

- No... but now something happened, they attacked my house in the ocean. I tried to ask Poseidon for help but he was of no use, I had no choice but to run away.

- Well then, big bro, it's time to find out together why fate brought us here.

At that moment, Percy notices that Y/N is slightly injured, although the sea water has already healed most of the injuries. Percy also notices the sadness in the boy's eyes, a loneliness he carries with him. He tries to get closer but Y/N shrinks back.

- Hey, is everything okay? – Percy asked.

- Yes... it's just that I'm not used to people. I lived basically alone. Poseidon visited me sometimes and the water spirits told me things. I always wanted to meet my famous brother. But I always thought I would be alone forever.

Percy realizes the depth of loneliness that Y/N has felt throughout his life. He extends his hand again, but this time with more kindness and patience.

- You're not alone now, Y/N. We have a lot to learn from each other. Together, we can face whatever fate has in store for us and discover more about our heritage as children of Poseidon.

Y/N still feels a little hesitant, but manages a small smile.

- Thank you, Percy. I never imagined this was possible. I look forward to this journey alongside you.

Days later...

Percy and Y/N are in Cabin 3 at Camp Half-Blood, they spent the whole night talking about the mission they would have together, about the prophecy received. Percy could tell that Y/N was still surprised by everything that was happening, but he was getting used to the new reality, he had even made some friends in the Athena cabin.

He knew that Y/N's life had been extremely lonely and he couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been to spend so many years hiding at sea. Percy wanted to make sure that even though a mission had brought them together, now Y/N had a family.

- Y/N, I want you to know that you are not alone anymore. You have a family now, and I'm here for you. Forever. We are brothers, and that means we take care of each other no matter what.

- This means a lot to me, Percy. I don't know how to thank you for all this. – Y/N said, feeling moved by Percy's words.

- No need to thank, big bro. We are on this journey together, and we will face everything head on. No matter what fate has in store for us, our brotherhood is unbreakable.

- Thanks, Percy. I look forward to facing what lies ahead with you by my side. – Y/N says with a smile.

Percy and Y/N share a moment of understanding and unity, strengthening their bond as brothers. Percy wants to make it clear that Y/N no longer needs to carry the loneliness that haunted him, because now he has a family that will support and care for him at all times.

#x male reader #percy jackson x male reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson and the olympians

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hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch · 1 year

Text

I could teach you things

I just wanna say thanks so much for you guys love on this series, I'm glad everyone loves mommy!Wanda

Part 1

Part 2

Summary: Will your mom ruin yours and Wanda's time together? Obviously not and Wanda doesn't give her much chance to do so, all she wants is to spend time with her little girl, why are people trying to ruin it?

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI just adult themes and mommy kink everywhere and Nat

Words: 1,500

"Well hello Jenny what do I owe you the pleasure of bursting into my home unannounced?" Her hard stare at your mother made the woman fault slightly but she still pressed on "where's my daughter you bitch"

"Oooh someones in a mood, you should know that Y/n wants to be with me and is currently lay in bed sleeping after the long day she had-

Jenny didn't let her finish the sentence before running past her and up to her room to find you "Y/n!" She slammed the door open and you jumped up from the bed "honey come on we're gonna go" she went to grab your hand but you moved away, unbeknownst to your mom Wanda was glaring at you to make sure you didn't say yes by shaking her head

"Sweetheart?" She tried again and you just sighed "it's okay mom I-I want to stay, Wanda is great" you retreated under the covers and Wanda smiled "see Jenny, now if you would please leave my house before you start scaring my boys"

Your mom left without another word promising to get you back even if it killed her, a bit dramatic it’s not like you were in much danger, she was a few doors down, god this was fucked up

You felt the bed dip and Wanda brought your surprised body into her own “oh my sweet princess did she scare you? It’s okay go back to sleep, she wont get in again”

You listened, curling into her body and closing your eyes again "okay" you didn't give another thought about your poor mother going out of her mind instead kissing Wanda's shoulder, the only place you could reach in the woman's tight grasp and you couldn't help the smile when Wanda kissed your head in response

"thank you for being with me my love" she whispered to you "go to sleep"

Your eyes fell heavy drifting back off into sleep and Wanda watched you 'your mom won't bother you anymore my love, I'm the only one you need now'

She repeated that to you over and over again softly in your ear making sure you knew you were hers

******************************************************************

"Good morning princess" Wanda's smooth voice filled your ears making you smile in your sleep, her voice was so soothing and was definitely something you could get used too

"my love I have to take the boys to school, do you want to come with me?" She started to get up but you gripped her tighter keeping her in place "no you stay" you mumbled, not knowing where that came from actually

"The boys need to go honey, you stay here and I'll pick up some breakfast for us" she reluctantly slinked away from you placing a last kiss to your lips "be good printsessa" you just nuzzled back into the pillow grumbling a little in response.

Wanda left you promising to return soon with the boys in tow "does Y/n live with us now mom?" Tommy questioned and Wanda ruffled his hair smiling " she does honey, are you happy about that boys?"

They both nodded their heads "yeah! She's so cool, can she come and pick us up later?" Billy asked

"Sure boys I'm sure she'll love that, now come on your teacher won't be happy if you're late again"

***************************************************************

When Wanda left, you eventually got up showering and putting on some of Wanda's clothes, they were a little long because she was taller than you but you didn't mind, everything was still stressful and you still didn't want to fully accept the position you were in but for now you sat downstairs watching TV waiting for Wanda's return.

You jumped slightly when the door opened and Wanda entered, she saw you in her clothes and gasped "wow, wearing mommy's clothes detka? You know how to impress me" she walked to the kitchen putting the breakfast she promised to get on the table "come see what mommy got you"

You stood and moved into the kitchen wondering why she was calling herself mommy "what did you get Wanda?"

The woman ignored you shuffling around the kitchen doing other things

"Wanda?" You tried again but still no response

"Why are you ignoring me?" You were getting annoyed until it clicked, you sighed knowing full well what she wanted "what did you get..."

Wanda raised an eyebrow at you waiting for you to finish "what did you get mommy?"

Wanda was pleased, finally "I got us some breakfast sandwiches and I got a coffee and you some orange juice" handing you the drink you thanked her

"Come on pretty girl let's eat" she sat down at the counter but when you sat down on the other side of the counter Wanda stopped you "ah ah princess, you need to sit on my lap so I can feed you"

Your mouth dropped "what the fuck are you talking about?" Theres the small amount of fighting spirit you had left in you, well Wanda would make sure that was broken too.

"Well that's no way to talk to your mommy is it? Why don't you try speaking again hm?" You couldn't place her voice and didn't know if she was angry or disappointed, so you didn't push instead responding

"I'm sorry I was just confused...I think I'd be heavy on your lap maybe and it-

"Stop rambling honey and come sit on mommy's lap, the sandwiches are getting cold"

You nodded moving towards her chair but you were still unsure on sitting on her lap which Wanda noticed and accepted it "okay my love you don't have to sit on my lap but sit up on the counter so I can still feed you"

The relief came over you and you nodded pulling yourself up onto the counter and letting her spread your legs so she could sit between them "there we go baby, are you okay?" She rubbed her hands on your legs in a comforting way "yeah I'm okay, kinda hungry though" you teased making the woman laugh, maybe this....whatever it is would be more fun than what you thought, even if the voice in the back of your head screamed at you to stop

Wanda opened the sandwich bag pulling an egg and bacon sandwich out that had already been cut up and fed you a piece which you happily took "is it good?" She asked giving you another piece that you greedily took "yeah" you finally said "it's really good"

"I'm glad honey" Wanda wiped some missed food from around your mouth with her thumb, she rested her thumb on your lips stroking softly "are you mommy's girl?" You felt a shaky breath leave your lips "I-I don't know" you whispered and Wanda hummed, instead of responding she pushed her thumb into your mouth and onto your tongue surprising you and you remained still, unsure of what to do

"You look so cute like this honey, go on and clean my thumb, suck" that single word made your whole body blush and although hesitantly, you used your tongue to clean her thumb swirling it around the limb but refusing to look at her until Wanda pressed her thumb down hard on your tongue stopping you "look at me when you do it"

You were forced to look into her darkened irises and the smirk on her face made you want to subconsciously rub your thighs together which was obviously difficult with the position you were in.

"Aww are you feeling tingly honey? Want me to help?" Wanda used her other hand to stroke your face which you leaned into "do you want me to-

"Knock knock!" Wanda's friend Nat interrupted the tension filled interaction causing you to bite down on Wanda's thumb making her hiss "shit" she pulled her thumb out of your mouth "you've got some sharp teeth there honey" she laughed it off and turned to Nat "do you want to tell me why you ruined our moment?"

Nat shrugged "I just think you should know that theres some police on their way over looking for Y/n, I told them no one was in so you've got about an hour before they knock the door down anyway knowing I lied"

Wanda groaned "fucking fantastic" she turned to you "your mom is pretty persistent isn't she detka?"

You shrugged "sorry"

"Dont apologise my love, why don't you go with Nat for some ice cream while mommy deals with this problem"

Nat snuck up next to you making you jump "yeah princess, let daddy take you for some ice cream"

You cringed at the moniker "Daddy? Seriously? Why would I do that?"

Nat rolled her eyes "you will one day don't worry, now come on, let your pretty mommy handle it" she kissed Wanda softly and the redhead smiled "it sounds hot when you say mommy too"

"I know, you're so easy to fluster"

You watched the interaction with a little jealousy which they both noticed "don't be jealous my love, mommy will treat you so well later"

You were a mess, on one hand you liked Wanda giving you attention and you guessed she was okay even if she didn't like your mom but on the other hand this was completely fucked up and wrong and you were an adult so calling someone mommy felt wrong, what a mess.

"Get out of that head of yours little one, let's go" you felt Nat grip your hand dragging you off the counter away from Wanda out the back entrance of the house, the last thing you heard before the door closed was Wanda opening her front door

"Good morning officer, what seems to be the problem?"

#marvel #mcu #MCU #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #wandanat x reader #wandanat #I could teach you things

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mauesartetc · 11 months

Note

Have you seen vivzi's tweet regarding the mille situation?

Oh yeah. Though to be clear, it's not just one tweet; it's a motherfuckin' thread (with screenshots below for posterity).

I won't go over this whole thing point by point, but one aspect that jumps out at me is how Viv deflects responsibility from herself onto the viewers. If your audience doesn't fully "understand" your characters, that's a problem. It's your job as a writer to make them understand, and do it in the story you're telling, not on social media. Can't help but see shades of how gobsmacked Fennah was that his audience didn't get how one of his characters represented toxic relationships, despite that character amounting to a harmless, childlike pet.

While Viv's response doesn't demean the audience like Fennah's, it does come off as a tad arrogant, as if Millie being perceived as flat is the viewers' fault, not hers.

The second thing that stood out is the list of Millie's qualities: "She is resourceful, she has strong family ties and memories, she has sibling rivalry, she's excitable and hyper focused." Only three of those are actual personality traits, and I can't even remember her being "hyper focused" at any time. To me, that would suggest working long hours on some kind of project, too engrossed to notice hunger, thirst, or how much time had passed. I guess you could make the argument that she worked tirelessly to become the skilled fighter she is, but we never see that in the show. I'm not even sure how "strong" those family ties are considering Millie didn't even hug her mom when she saw her. Basically, this smacks of telling rather than showing, trying to convince us this is the case rather than letting us see for ourselves.

[Edit 6/10/23 Forgot to mention this tidbit: "we are literally on 3", meaning the third episode. Girl, no. You were literally on ten episodes total, and eleven/twelve (depending on whether or not the pilot counts) with the release of Western Energy. That's way too long to go without properly developing one of the main characters.]

Also, "we found more storylines that influenced Blitz"? You mean you created more storylines with him as the focus. You chose to follow those paths in Season 1. It didn't just happen to you. "Whoops! Tripped over this random plot! Guess I have to use it in an episode!" Obviously Blitzo is the main character so it makes sense that he'd have the most plots centered around him, but it's extremely telling that y'all gave absolutely none of the focus to Millie.

Let's look at the seven episodes of Season 1. Blitzo could be the focus of three, Moxxie could get one, Millie could get one, Loona could get one, and Stolas could get one, and you could save extra story ideas for Season 2. There ya go. Yes, seven episodes is a pretty short season with not much wiggle room to fit all the juiciest stories in, but there's definitely space to tease what's coming. Imply that there's more to these characters and this world than meets the eye. Make the audience hungry for more. This is a fan-funded Youtube series, after all; it's not like any networks or streaming services are threatening to pull the plug if the metrics aren't up to snuff.

Finally, the "this is a male-led show" excuse for female characters being underdeveloped is so weak, especially for an adult show that prides itself on social progressivism. You've got a handful of queer main characters and a trans side character, but fleshing out the women was a step too far-? Y'all are all about spotlighting LGBT stories, but anything resembling feminism that goes deeper than '90s-style "hey, this chick can fight!" girl power? Whoa, that's a bit too much, buddy.

Call me crazy, but shouldn't viewers get the impression that all of a story's principal characters have inner lives, regardless of gender? What is Millie like when she's alone, isolated from her relationships? What does she think about? How does she entertain herself without anyone to brawl with, or anything to hack into with an axe? The show hasn't given us any hints.

Honestly, if you're not good at writing female characters, you're allowed to say that. Yes, it's embarrassing to admit when you're a woman yourself, but if you grew up in a culture that promotes internalized misogyny and prioritizes masculine wants over feminine needs (which many of us did, let's be real), it's understandable. That shit's hard to unlearn. What might make it easier when it comes to characters, though, is what I like to call the Ellen Ripley method.

Challenge, Viv: Write a nuanced male character. Give him strengths and flaws, likes and dislikes, quirks and hobbies, strained relationships and happy ones.

Now make him female.

It really is that simple.

We'll have to wait and see how much that defense regarding Hazbin Hotel truly reflects reality, though if I were a gambler, I'd bet Alastor and Angel Dust will dominate the story and leave Charlie and Vaggie on the sidelines.

#vivziepop critical #helluva boss #helluva millie #helluva critical #writing #ask #blacklilly27 #female characters #representation

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haeggi · 10 months

Text

the gift and the gifted | myg ✓

➔ pairing: top student!yoongi × top student!reader

➔ genres/warnings: highschool!au, christmas!au, holiday!au, romcom!au, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, suggestive themes (but there's no smut, woops), also yoongi wears glasses bc my babie is so cute and hot when he wears one, lots of cussing prolly, some jokes may be offensive, reader and yoongi basically wants to strangle each other's necks bc yes.

➔ word count: 12.9k

➔ synopsis: you were always at the top; girls envied you and they aspired to be like you, and you got guys swooning at your feet. but there was always a particular individual who followed your footsteps. min yoongi. everywhere you were, he always shadowed you. he always came in second to you, and just like you, he also had become the primary cause of ladies getting diagnosed with erotomanias (metaphorically, of course). but everything crashes downhill when your roles are suddenly switched; he ends up at the top, and you below him. how messed up could that be?

or alternatively, christmas was just around the corner, and all it takes are the midterms (which will be a piece of cake to you) before the semester ends. however, the christmas news you receive that year was one of the worst gifts yet. let's say, it went catastrophic because the gift came in the form of min yoongi, your biggest rival.

notes: this is my first ever tumblr ff ajshssk. it's raw and unedited, so expect a lot of grammar mistakes.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

According to statistics of an unknown source, a lot of experts believe that the global population is composed of between 2% to 6% of gifted children. Such child prodigies are blessed with naturally high inborn intelligence. They perform significantly at complex levels compared to peers.

You belonged in the 2 to 6% of that category. At the fresh age of two, you were able to read novels that are typically for adolescents. You also already knew how to write children stories, your imaginations constantly spreading as if you were using a hex in your mind, expanding your thoughts into a whole new wide level.

Yes, that was indeed a Marvel reference.

Oh, you started watching the series by the time you were three, by the way. Whenever your parents kissed you goodbye to report to their jobs, you would bake pancakes while standing on a stool because you were still too tiny to reach the top of the kitchen counter. Afterwards, you would waddle into the living room, turn on the TV, and bask into a three-hour Marvel movie.

You would also laugh at the adult jokes that were made that even most adolescents wouldn't get, yet there you were, being a couch potato, sipping on maple syrups while giggling at the scenes.

And by the time you were four, you knew all your basic math. You could also spell complicated words already such as pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis (man, I literally had to copy-paste that from Google, smh). You also have memorized all the countries of Asia and Europe, and the parts of the human's and plants' cells—not just the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell basic and overused shit.

But most importantly, you definitely had attitude problems. You had a blunt tongue and a sharp wit.

"I don't want to go to school," your five-year-old-self whined burying your small head further into the pillow. "I don't need to," you add, muffled.

"Honey," your mother sighed, inviting herself in your bedroom. She knew how much you despised it whenever someone crossed your personal space, yet you were too whine-y to even fight your mother. "I know that, but you still need to. The world is too big for everything to fit in your brain—"

"Are you calling me small?" you grimaced, exhuming your head from the pillow and whipping it at your mom's direction. "Mom, you know how much I'm sensitive when it comes to my height!"

"Yes, dear, I apologize—"

"I don't wanna hear it, mom! My decision is final, I don't wanna go to kindergarten!" you yelled, albeit your voice was muffled because you stuffed your face into your pillow again.

"Kindergarten?" your mother repeated. "Y/N, I never said anything about enrolling you to kindergarten. I was planning to apply for your acceleration for elementary—"

"Mmmooommmm!" you groaned, almost sounding like a wolf, but to your beloved mother, you just sounded like a pup. "Leave me alone, please! I know my geometry, I can solve the area of a rectangle, a square, a decagon. Even a gazillion-gon or whatever! And I know how to use similes, metaphors, hyperboles, and ironies!"

"Clearly," your mother muttered under her breath. "With how sharp your tongue is, I'm not even surprised."

The woman flinched when a soft piece of fluff landed before her feet. It was one of your stuff toys, Mr. Bear-able.

She resisted the urge to massage her temples, catching what her daughter was implying. "Alright, fine. I'll leave you alone. But if you ever change your mind, tell me."

"I don't do do overs, mom," you retorted, suddenly having the appetite to get out of bed. You waddle towards your desk, plopping on the seat with your back turned to your mother. "Now, if you excuse me, I have a lot to do."

"Of course," your mother responded. "Come down for dinner at seven. Don't. Be. Late," she warned.

"Yes, mother," you stressed the last word.

Hearing the door shut close, you released a sigh of relief, finally grateful for the time of peace.

But, unfortunately, for gifted children, peace was a state they rarely achieved.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

Ten years later, you are now enduring the third year of high school. And ten years ago, you swore to yourself that you wouldn't step foot into a school. Ever. Yet here you were, standing in the middle of the hallway, flooded with lots of people your age. Jocks and cheerleaders mostly flocked the lockers, some of which are busy slamming each other against each one, their faces all over each other.

It was a disgusting sight to you, but you are used to it now. You know not to pry into their business and scream at them to stop the eff out. One, because you were simply lazy—or rather, conserving energy is the right term. Second, they weren't worth your precious time.

Yes, it was your third year in high school, but also it was only your third time attending school because for the last seven years, you had been cooped up within the four walls of your bedroom. You never stepped foot out the door, except when you ate. You were either sleeping, writing, or just aimlessly scrolling on Twitter and Tiktok.

It had gotten to the point where your mother barged into the room with your father following her like a lost puppy, because he didn't want to deal with you because he was either 1) really, really afraid of you or 2) he just didn't really want to deal with an untamed animal that was in the form of you. Yet, he followed your mother to your room because 1) he was definitely still more afraid of his wife more than of his daughter and 2) he probably wants to witness your demise.

And you did get your demise. You got an earful from your mother. She had confiscated your phone, pulled you out of your room and locked the door. She was getting sick of you acting around as if you were the boss. As if you were the adult.

Yeah, you definitely had (still have, by the way) attitude problems.

And the only condition that your mother had so that you could gain access back to your room and phone is if you enrolled at school, got a degree, and a decent job.

So here you were, in the very hellhole you didn't want to end up in.

On the bright side, you are still a gifted child, and hell did you demolished everyone in your path. Academically, of course. Consistently, you were the overall top one of your batch from first year to second year. You were always the top scorer in examinations. You were also literally destroying your teachers' careers, which basically made almost everyone love you. Almost.

You got guys begging for your attention, wanting to take you out on dates. You also got girls envying you, wanting to be you. And also, of course, you had haters.

And most significantly, you had competition.

He was always there, wherever you were. You were on the list of top scorers, and underneath your name, just right next to it, was his name printed. You were the overall top one, and below you, just beside you, was his name written.

You were the first, and he always came in second.

Your eyes were literally burning in crimson when you saw him entering your line of sight. His jet black hair was neatly styled as usual, his pale skin was glowing underneath the fluorescent lights, his eyes were adorned with round-rimmed glasses, accentuating his clever ambience further.

It made your blood boil; the way he was just calmly walking through the crowd of students. He didn't even make an effort passing through the bodies because people made way for him. Of course, they would. He is the fucking student council president, for hell's sake!

Your arms are crossed, still staring him down as he greeted and bowed to those who smiled at him. Oh, how badly you wanted to rip his mouth off of his face and smack it to the first girl you see because she would definitely pay you at least ten years worth of your life, then you can finally ditch school, maybe disappear off the surface of the map and enjoy a life of solitude in probably an abandoned island, sipping on mojito, or maybe the mountains to enjoy the fresh air of nature because the air down there smelled like pieces of shit—

"Y/N," he singsongs, his gravelly voice reaching your ears.

You didn't notice that you had been standing at the middle of the hallway for quite a long time now because he, along with a few of the other student council members trailing behind him, was now in front of you. You notice everyone's eyes are on you two. Everyone knew of the rivalry you two have. And you also knew that they are totally anticipating a war to happen.

"Yoongi," you say, your tone honeyed with a hint of passive-aggressiveness.

"How was your weekend?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.

Oh, he is definitely enjoying the attention. Just so you wait, I will rip your fakeass smile—

"It was okay!" you chirp, faking a laugh. "I hope yours was too."

Yoongi hums, fixing his glasses that had slightly slid down, exposing his feline eyes for a fleeting moment. "Fortunately, it went more than okay to me," he says with a pompous smile.

Your verbose response is a forced smile, hoping that he will take the hint that he will leave you alone now, because you knew what he was referencing to. The recent weekend, both of your families had dinner together. Unfortunately for you, your parents and his parents are very well-acquainted with each other. Mr. and Mrs. L/N, and Mr. and Mrs. Min's relationship was founded through a business partnership. Despite that, the relationship between the four adults ensued into a deeper level.

Alas, the same couldn't be said with the two offsprings. While their parents considered each other close friends, you and Yoongi acknowledged the other as each other's nemesis.

Everything between you and him always ended up to become a competition. A competition to see who gets on the other's nerves the quicker.

That was why on that particular Saturday night, in a fancy restaurant booked by Yoongi's parents, underneath the rectangular marbled table, you used the advantage of wearing heels that time to sink one of your stilettos on one of his leather shoes when he taunted you. Afterwards, he made a scene, instantly pointing a finger at you when his mother worriedly asked what happened. You promptly defended yourself, saying that it was an accident and that you didn't notice his foot immediately. Then, your beloved mother scolded you in front of them to be more careful because it was bad manners; and that you should act like a proper lady in a five-star Michelin restaurant.

Luckily, he starts to leave you, but only after making up an excuse. "Well, I'm a bit late with my duties, I can't waste time any longer. So, I'll see you later."

He attempts to walk past you, but you had enough time to recover from his pettish outro. As he takes the first steps, you mislead him by moving aside. Then, you slide your foot forwards, miniscule. You watch as his own bumps into yours and in a span of a second, he trips, albeit he regains his balance quickly to your dismay. You almost pouted since he didn't meet the floor with his face.

His calm composure cracks a tiny bit, his eye twitching as he looks at you, his expression now displaying irk. He expected everyone else to look at you as if you were the culprit, but unfortunately, for his part, no one noticed because it is too crowded in the hallway for anyone to catch what you did. Instead, they all had their gazes at him. Some of them awkwardly smiled, while others began to whisper.

Nevertheless, Yoongi ignores them. He stands up straight, fixing the collar of his shirt before waltzing away with his group trailing behind. Unlike earlier, he was tramping, eager to flee the scene and rendering you into a fit of hushed and inconspicuous giggles.

Not today, Snow White. Not today.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

You are stuck in another hour of a boring lesson. You lazily spin a pencil around your fingers, with one hand supporting the weight of your chin as you stare outside the window of your classroom, observing the varsity soccer players attempting to score goals.

You unconsciously snicker when one of the players falls on the grass, catching the attention of your math teacher. It took two calls of your name before you faced her, scowling when she says, "Since you seem so confident, not listening to my discussion, will you please be so kind to solve this on the board?"

You raise an eyebrow, looking at her as if saying 'Are you serious?' The teacher doesn't falter, however, and you sigh vexatiously, standing up from your seat and idly ambling across the aisle. You feel the stares of your classmates piercing at your back but you don't waver. Upon reaching the front, you take the marker from your teacher, whose face was still etched into a frown at the behavior you are showing.

You solve the polynomial equation with ease, not even pausing to think. And when you encircled your final answer and turned to return your teacher's marker, she was gaping at you. Smirking in victory, she tells you to return to your seat. And for the rest of the lecture, she doesn't bother you anymore.

After school, you went straight out of the campus, as if the air inside the building had been suffocating you that you even release a long sigh of relief. Frankly, you thought that you had wasted another day because you didn't learn anything new from any of your subjects. All that was discussed, you already know those concepts since you were ten years old.

And now, you wanted to throw a tantrum at your mother when you get home.

You head for the gates of the campus, and as if you didn't have enough on your plate, a car comes revving near you, and before you knew it, it blocks your path, making you abruptly halt your steps. You instantly recognize the model of the vehicle. The driver's door opens and a familiar black bob of hair is revealed. You don't even try to hide your irritation when Yoongi approaches you.

"Get in the car," he demands, opening the passenger door right in front of you.

You don't listen. Instead, you comment, "Nice calculations there. Which theorem did you apply that made the passenger's door end up in front of my face? Show me your scratch papers."

He rolls his eyes, clearly not having your shit. "My mom called me and told me that your mom told her to tell me that I'm dropping you off at your house because your mom is worried that you'll be off somewhere else again and cause trouble, so she wants to make sure that you're not going to do anything stupid again—"

"Hold your horses, Eminem." You flail your hands in front of him. "First of all, drop the your mom tongue twister. Second, I'm not coming with you. Who knows? You might be plotting my death. And third, stop talking to me because people might think that we're friends."

Without waiting for Yoongi's response, you swaggered around his Hyundai Sonata, heading for the campus gates. Relief washes over you when you don't hear the annoying honking of his car. He had left you alone for now.

Besides, how worse could your day get any further?

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

Your bag drops to the floor once you have registered the sight of your mother guffawing at a joke he said. They were both too occupied in their conversation that they only sensed your presence when you make a beeline for the stairs.

"Y/N," your mother calls, and you stop in your tracks, one foot mid-air. You curse lowly, not being able to even make it for the first tread.

You put on the fakest smile you could muster, making sure that it was discernible that you didn't want to have to do anything with the two most exasperating persons in the room.

"Aren't you gonna join Yoongi and I for snacks?" she says, rendering you to fist your hand. It took a lot of strength from you not to swing a punch at the said male. He was clearly enjoying this. He absolutely knew that you were getting reprimanded again once he leaves the premise.

Your smile twitches, almost cracking but you stay firm. "Sure, I will. Mother." You deliberately stressed the last word. A warning gaze is given to you by your mother.

Smirking lightly, you don't tiptoe anymore, seeing that it was useless. You pull the chair across where Yoongi sat, purposely making the wood screech against the floor. Your mother winces slightly that made you smile triumphantly.

As if nothing had transpired, your mother began to speak. "So, Yoongi here told me that you refused to get a lift from him. You do know that that's basic manners."

"Yes, and you told me not to accept anything from strangers," you deadpan. Your mother's eyes widen in horror, instantly sending Yoongi an apologetic gaze.

"Oh, Yoongi, I'm so sorry about my daughter. I think she meant that she didn't want to a burden to you."

Yoongi waves his hand, a cheeky smile painted on his lips. "It's alright, Mrs. L/N. I get what you mean. I absolutely understand where Y/N is coming from."

Your head was beginning to ache from the exchange that was occurring between the two people you weren't entirely fond of. Before your mother could respond to your nemesis, you cut in.

"Why is he even here, mom?" you demand. Your mother chuckles awkwardly, looking back and forth between you and your enemy.

"Well," she starts. "Your midterms are nearing alongside the weather that is starting to cool off. I invited Yoongi so that you two could study together and maybe consider this as a bonding moment for the two of you—"

You don't let her finish, abruptly standing up from your seat, already shooting daggers at the woman who birthed you.

"Mom, I don't need a study buddy. I can clearly study fine on my own. In fact, I don't need to because I know everything and I assure you that I will ace my midterms just like I've had for the past two years."

Mrs. L/N frowns at your response. "Y/N, if you please, will you stop with the bratty attitude? We have a guest and the least you can do is act accordingly!"

You are certain that your blood had reached its boiling point. "No!" you raise your tone, unbothered by the fact that your rival is literally witnessing the argument that is transpiring right now. What irked you more was that he is probably enjoying the scene unfolding before him. "You're just doing all of these because you know how much I despite it! I hate it, mom. And I absolutely harbor all of the ill feelings you can name towards him!" You point at Yoongi, who is calmly watching you with an unreadable expression on his face.

As far as you know, only your parents knew that you loathed Yoongi. That was why you were always comfortable expressing it even in their presence. But whenever his parents were at the scene, that was when you could control your temper, and suppress your irritations, which is why now, you were exploding once again.

"Y/N—!"

"I'm not hearing it," you proclaim, already making way towards the stairs. "Chit-chat with him for all I care. Just leave me be."

You stomp upstairs, making sure you slam your bedroom door shut. Smoke was literally smothering out of yours ears and nostrils as you grabbed the nearest book you had from your shelf and throw it with all your might at the other end of your room. Then, you march towards your bed, falling on it face-first and releasing your screams, muffled by your pillows.

You are so angry and infuriated, mentally wrecking Yoongi with all the curses you could think of. After what seemed like hours of disparaging him in the form of talking to your long-time best friend, Mr. Bear-able, you feel your throat become dry. It is parched and you feel the need to gulp down a gallon of water with how much saliva you used.

Annoyed that you had to leave the comfort of your room to get a glass of water downstairs, you wonder if Yoongi had already left. You check outside, raising the blinds of your window. Then, you grimace, seeing the familiar vehicle parked in front of your house.

Why was that son of a half-troll still here?

You really didn't want to go down and see him, but your throat was literally begging for your thirst to be quenched. You try to weigh the pros and cons, with the cons definitely outweighing the former, but you were still too thirsty. It was sending you to the brim of annoyance so you had no choice but to step out of your room.

Your ears try to hear for movements and conversations, but when you don't, you thought that maybe they were in the backyard. You sigh in relief, albeit too early because when your feet touched the floor of the first floor of your house, you almost lost your balance upon seeing the devil himself standing by the stairs' handrails. The balusters did the job of concealing him because his face is already adorned with a smirk.

"Why the fuck are you here?" you demand. "Where's mom?"

"Out," Yoongi simply answers, sipping on his iced Americano.

"Why?" You cross your arms, raising an incredulous eyebrow at him.

"She felt bad about your tantrum—" he explains nonchalantly. "—so, she insisted to take-out dinner."

"Why didn't you just come with her? That would save us both the case of fighting—"

"I offered to stay and look after you in case something happens, although your mom was still really worried for me in case you might pull something against me. But I assured her that I would be fine." He blinks as if his response was a normal one.

However, you don't buy it, narrowing your eyes and taking a defiant step closer to him. "What are you scheming this time? Wasn't it enough for you that you got to witness me getting reprimanded?"

Yoongi doesn't seem affected because he stands his ground, his eyes reciprocating the determined gaze you were giving him.

He doesn't answer you, and he breaks your eye-contact, looking at something behind you.

"Hey, I asked you a question—"

"It's snowing," he cuts you off.

Mildly confused and musing a what, you turn around to check what he was looking at. And then you see the first fall of snow of the year. Immediately, you feel the chilly breeze of winter prick your skin.

Eyebrows still furrowed, you only move when Yoongi scurries off towards the heater, turning it on. After a few seconds, the cold that you instantly felt is replaced by warmth. Still, you were on edge, because Yoongi was acting really... weird.

You watch him with judgment in your eyes as he makes his way towards the dining room. That's when you see study materials sprawled on the table; Stabilo highlighters with their caps off, arrow sticky notes pasted on top of pages of the textbooks, reviewers spread all throughout the space of the table. He had been clearly studying for midterms. You were disturbed that he had shamelessly claimed territory on your dining room.

You feel the bile crawling up your throat, you are cognizantly displeased at the way Yoongi was acting. You march towards the room, where he was busy organizing his notes.

"Hey!" you squawked. "Will you stop walking around as if this is your house?! And... can you stop that? You're acting weird..." you trail off when Yoongi doesn't even snap at you. He only looks at you as if you were the strange one in the room.

You roll your eyes, opting to get your glass of water from the kitchen instead. If the damn bitch won't respond to you properly then you won't bother to waste your time.

Closing the refrigerator, with one hand holding the pitcher, you jump the second time that day, caught off-guard by your rival standing behind the door of the refrigerator.

"Jesus Christ, Yoongi!" you yell. "I will literally smack you in the face with this pitcher!"

"Huh," he muses. "That's really weird."

"What?" you say in disbelief. "Don't call me weird when between us, you're the one that's acting weird. Fucking leave me alone, for fuck's sake."

"Yeah, exactly." He remains unfazed by your threats. "Strangely, I don't feel anything towards you right now."

"Of course you don't," you scoff. "You hate me. Hello? Have you suddenly become stupid or something?"

Seemingly lost in thought, Yoongi replies, "No, I mean like I literally don't feel anything right now towards you. I don't feel like I hate you right now—"

"Yes, I hear you. Now can you shut the fuck— wait what?" You pause and do a double take on what he just said.

What did he say? That he doesn't hate me right now?

"Look, I don't know what the fuck it is your scheming right now, but I just want to tell you to drop your crap, because I don't believe a single word you're uttering right now," you say, pouring water on a glass. You take a sip before resuming. "Stop saying bullshit, because I won't fall for it."

"I'm not telling you bull right now." He raises both of his hands in surrender. "Ugh, whatever. You probably have the mental capacity of a lizard for you to understand even if I explain—"

"Take that back right now," you threaten him. "Have you forgotten that you always come second to me? Don't get too cocky, you still don't know who you're messing with. It's been three years, you should know now that you can't beat me."

"Whatever you say so, Megamind." He fixes his glasses before returning to the dining room. You warily watch him go back to studying before you climb up back into your room.

Even though you were already inside, you still felt uneasy because of how peculiar Yoongi acted just a few minutes ago.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

The gray cement road is replaced with the ivory snow, concealing everything underneath it. It's now the month of November, which meant that your parents are busy preparing for the holidays. That also meant that you had to help them too to your dismay.

You are sitting on your house's porch, a stick in your hand while doodling on the snow. Meanwhile, your father is occupied in attaching the Christmas lights on the gutters of your roof.

He calls your name, and you oblige. You step foot out into the snow weather, bits of frost coating your hair. You crane your neck up the ladder.

"Can you pass me the other string of lights?" he requests, pointing at the said lights sprawled on the snow. You grab it off the floor, taking the end of it. You spin it like a lasso before unleashing it towards your father, who catches it with ease. He laughs, "Nice one!"

You roll your eyes before returning to your earlier position. You begin to scribble again as your mind wanders off somewhere else.

For the past few weeks, you had noticed that something became different. And it was all because of a particular person who was supposed to be the hell of your life. Instead, it seems like he had now become pacified, and he decided that you weren't worth his time anymore.

A part of you feels extremely offended and infuriated because you feel that Yoongi doesn't see you as a menace anymore; that he was now confident that he can easily defeat you; that he doesn't see you as a competition anymore. Another of your part feels concerned and peculiar—as if something is missing. You don't feel the adrenaline pulsating through your veins anymore whenever you saw Yoongi.

When you crossed paths, he would only give you a smile of acknowledgement and then leave before you could even tell him a snarky comment.

Oddly, it was affecting you more than it should be. You were starting to think that maybe this was one of his tactics for you to get distracted. If it was, it was unfortunately working, and you were getting vexed as each day passed by.

You wanted Yoongi to lash out on you. You wanted to feel his anger radiating towards you. You wanted him to feel threatened. You wanted to be the one with the upper hand.

But instead, you were feeling none of those from him. It was rendering you to madness because even though you wanted to deny it so bad, you couldn't get him out of your mind.

And maybe, just maybe, you thought that something different was also brewing inside you.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

November flew by in a blur and before you even knew it, you only had two weeks before midterms. You and your mother were busy setting up the Christmas tree. She was busy handing you the ornaments and garlands, and directing you where to place them.

"There," your mother says. "A little bit up. Nope, down. Nevermind, put it up again."

You groan in annoyance. "Mom, can you please make up your mind? My arms are starting to sore."

She gives you a sheepish smile from below. You feel goosebumps pricking your skin, disturbed by your mother's expression. It was the first time you saw that kind of smile from her.

"You're creeping me out," you say.

"Oh, it's nothing," your mother tells you. "It's just... recently I've noticed how you seem at peace now unlike before. It's nice..." she hesitates a bit but when she sees you only looking at her and listening intently, she finds the courage to express to you, "It's nice that we're finally having a mother-and-daughter bonding experience since... I don't know, maybe since you were one?"

You laugh. You actually laugh genuinely at what she says. You climb down the ladder, dusting your hands on your sweater. Peace. A word that its meaning which you know, but don't know what it feels. It is a foreign feeling and peculiar. Only then when your mother notices it you realize that maybe that was the right word you were looking for to describe your interiority right now.

But as soon as you take cognizance of it, your mother crashes it when she lets you know the news.

"Yoongi's family is having dinner with us on the Eve," she informs you, and your smile stiffens. "I expect that you'll be on your best behavior."

She looks at you expectantly, and it was enough to let her know that you aren't fond of the idea because you say,

"I'd rather be a Christmas feast to a cat, honestly."

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

"To be honest, I'd rather feast on a mouse, mom," Yoongi says when his mother informs him their plan for the evening of Christmas Eve.

She laughs heartily. "Why would you say that, dear? Is it because of Y/N? Are you still uptight around her because of her gift?"

Yoongi shudders at the mere mention of your name for some unknown reason that he couldn't decipher. He denies it, shaking his head.

Then, her mother's eyes sparkled. She leans forward and whispers, "Then... have you gotten fond of her? You seem to be more nervous than before, Yoongi. Whenever we spend time with the L/Ns, you always seem so determined, and you look forward to spend time with their family. Why do you seem so uneasy now?"

"Err, it's not that, mom." Yoongi tries to distract himself by sipping on his iced Americano, but that doesn't ease his nerves. He regrets ordering his usual drink on the cold season because his shivering is amplified. "It's just... midterms' soon, and I'm just stressed, I guess."

"Stressed?" His mother repeats. "That's the first time I've heard that word from you, dear."

"Is it?" Yoongi chuckles awkwardly.

Mrs. Min emits another lighthearted laugh. "Yoongi, I know you more than anyone else. Don't even deny it, you have taken quite a liking for the L/Ns' daughter, haven't you?"

Yoongi gapes at his mother's proclamation. He immediately shakes his head vehemently. "Mom, that's ridiculous. Of course, I haven't. She hates me." At the last sentence, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. But his bitter tone doesn't come unnoticed to his mother.

"Does she?" she innocently asks.

"Yeah." Yoongi sighs, pressing his lips into a thin line that resembled a bracket. It was a habit of his whenever he feels displeased. "She hates the mere sight of me, mom. And we compete for the first place, every time. She hates the fact that I'm always second to her because she's threatened that I might overthrow her anytime! It's annoying to be honest. But now, I'll just let her have her way. I'm just going to focus on studying for midterms. She's not worth my time, anyway."

Of course he was half-lying. He wanted nothing more but to continue this rivalry you two had. But these days, he had been in conflict with his inner self. He didn't want you having your way, he wanted to conquer you. But also, another side of him is troubling him. He didn't want to continue fighting you any longer for some reason. Yoongi doesn't know if he simply got tired of it or if it was because of something else that he couldn't pinpoint.

Either way, he didn't want to interact with you for the mean time. He had to figure whatever the shit was happening to his brain. Had he finally lost it?

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

You were serene as usual when midterms ended. You can't help but feel pride swelling on your chest as you listened to your classmates' complaints and sighs of regrets because they had a lot harder time getting through each question of the exams than you did.

But somehow, there was something missing; the thrill. Your mind wanders to your nemesis, wondering how he did in his exams.

When you were all dismissed, the hallways are instantaneously filled with students, celebrating their triumphs and the fact that they were now free from school. Instinctively, you try the look for a familiar midget with black bob hair and round-rimmed glasses.

And when you do see him, a smirk makes its way to your lips. You march confidently to his way. He doesn't notice your presence until you blocked his way, causing him to look up from his phone to acknowledge you.

"Hey, Potter," you drawl, playing with the ends of your hair. He rolls his eyes at the nickname you call him.

"What do you want?" he straightly gets to the point. You raise an eyebrow, a bit caught off-guard by his question.

That was a good one because yeah, what the hell did you want? Why did you approach him in the first place?

Yoongi unintentionally saves you from the embarrassment. His feline eyes narrow and he smugly smiles. "Oh, are you concerned about how I did well in my exams? Are you perhaps... threatened?"

You scowl, pointing a finger at him. "Don't get so brazen. I'm just here to tell you not to feel too self-assured. I know what you've been up to lately. You've been trying to distract me by not acknowledging my presence for the past few weeks. You think that that's all it takes for me to back down? Nah-uh. Nice try, Yoongi, but try harder."

"Oh?" He raises an eyebrow, fascinated at your assumptions. "So, that's what you've been presuming." Then, he shrugs, "Look, doll, I don't know where such thoughts of yours suddenly came from, but I'm just saying that that sounds like a you problem. I'm not doing anything, but it seems like you're turning into one of them, having delusions about me."

You cringe and sneer. "You can't be serious, Yoongi. Now, you're the delusional one!" The way he was smirking victoriously made you want to slap the mocking smile off of his face.

You decide to end the interaction, curtly pivoting on your heels and strutting away from Yoongi, whose piercing eyes never left your figure until you disappeared from his line of sight.

In the back of his mind, he is contemplating. He ponders if you were right. For the first time in his lifetime, he was considering what you said.

Meanwhile, you were stomping on piles of snows. You were furious at the lack of energy Yoongi was showing you. He really seemed like he didn't give a damn anymore about you. He was so laid-back and relaxed and that made your confidence dwindle a bit, wondering what had he pulled from his sleeves.

Your mood remains sour the whole time you walked home. People who passed by you probably thought that you were releasing dragon breaths if not for the freezing weather.

You were basically tramping on the floor of your living room, immediately catching the attention of your mother, who scampers out of the kitchen to check out the commotion. She sees you muttering incoherent words to yourself and you only stop when she gets your attention.

"Did something happen, Y/N?" she questions. "Why are you in a sour mood? Did something happen with your exams?"

"No, mom!" you immediately answer. "In fact, I aced the exams, I'm certain! You don't need to worry about anything. It's just that—" you abruptly stop. Your mother looks at you, waiting for you to continue but you don't.

Frankly, you're confused yourself, suddenly wondering why were you so worked up. You didn't have to worry about anything, you were a hundred percent confident that you did outstandingly in your exams.

"Y/N?" Your mother's voice pulls you out of your trance.

"It's nothing!" you exclaim. "Just tired. I'm going to my room, if you don't mind." You start going up the stairs. "Call me if you need help." Your voice echoes in the first floor.

Mrs. L/N blinks, finding your behavior strange lately. Yet, she shrugs it off and goes back to working in the kitchen.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

"Y/N, please stop harassing the carrots," your mother says. "They did nothing to you."

You stop cutting the vegetable, noticing that indeed, the whole carrot was now mashed. You sigh, not realizing that you've been cutting angrily.

"If you're not in the mood, I can cook myself. You can go on and set the table instead."

You don't argue, abandoning the knife and mashed carrots before making way towards the cabinets where your mother kept the utensils for special occasions.

It was finally the day of your impending doom. Christmas Eve. Dinner with the Min family, and honestly, you didn't know what to feel. The last time Yoongi visited was when you and your mother had an argument right in front of him. It was also the day everything changed. You wonder if the argument that transpired traumatized him, rendering him to madness. Or maybe he was diagnosed with a disorder.

There I go again. Why the hell am I even thinking about him? Focus at the task at hand, Y/N—

You reach out for the stack of plates but one of them slips from your grasp, clattering and breaking on the floor. Your mother jumps, and she starts to scold you as you bent down and picked up the broken pieces.

"Y/N, seriously, what is going on with you?" she exclaims. "You've been so out of it!"

You sigh, fluttering your eyes close for a moment. When you open them, you wince, suddenly feeling blood rushing towards your index finger. You look down and see rivulets of ruby spilling out of your skin.

Mrs. L/N notices your trance and she follows your gaze. Her eyes widen and she gasps, instantly ushering you to rinse your wound and put a band aid on it.

You obey, grabbing the opportunity of ephemeral peace. In the bathroom, you dab the small laceration with Betadine, before wrapping it up with a band aid. Then, your ears register the sound of muffled voices coming from the other side of the door.

It didn't take you long to realize that the Min family has entered your residence. And that meant, Yoongi was also here. Your last interaction with him was at the school hallway, where you two had a small argument about which one of you was the delusional one. It was an awkward one, to be honest. It didn't feel like your previous fights.

You slap your forehead with your wounded hand, wincing and mentally cursing yourself because of your stupidity. It was ironic, to be frank. You were gifted with an incredible high IQ, but your EQ was equivalently low.

After a few minutes of attempts to calm yourself down, you finally step out of the bathroom, sauntering towards the living room to make your presence known. Mrs. Min acknowledges you, giving you a peck in the cheek. You awkwardly stand before her as she compliments your crown braid hairstyle and the baby blue turtleneck dress that you wore, matched with a pair of flats because you didn't do well in heels in cold weathers.

Her attention pans towards your father, greeting him with the same enthusiasm and you finally felt like you could breathe. But that's when you see him too.

Yoongi is standing in the sidelines, observing the interaction between the four adults. He is obviously avoiding your eyes but you don't notice it, of course. He could literally feel your burning stare on him that he was starting to feel his legs buckle.

However, all those went over your head. You pay heed on his outfit. He didn't seem... too bad. You acknowledge that he has a sense of fashion. He is wearing a pair of beige slacks, complimenting his skin tone. The black leather belt that hugged his waist is a contrast to his white button up long sleeve, a cream-colored knitted vest resting on top of it.

When you look at his eyes, you find him already staring at you. Clearly, he had completely failed avoiding at looking at you. You two continued to have a staredown when Mrs. Min calls the attention of the two of you.

"Y/N, Yoongi! Take your seats. Let's bless the food and eat!"

After dinner, the four adults in the room began to chat with the company of champagne and whiskey. Meanwhile, you and Yoongi were tasked to do the dishes. So, as much as to your disappointment, you were stuck with him. He soaps the dishes while you rinsed them. The situation was awkward because you two were enveloped in a uncomfortable silence. The only sources of sound between you were the voices and laughters coming from the living room.

Earlier, your mother had warned you to be in your best behavior for the umpteenth time, and you don't even fight her on it because 1) you didn't have the energy to engage in a war anyways and 2) Min Yoongi had been passive so you actually had no reason to go into a fit of rage. But still, there is a slight disappointment in you because of the lack of interaction you were having with the said boy.

It was like he had gone mute. To you, it's irksome but also, you were starting to feel concerned. However, your pride was more essential to you, so you don't ask Yoongi what has been bothering him lately because 1) he's your nemesis, you aren't supposed to care for his well-being and 2) it might be a part of his grandmaster plan of plotting your demise.

After drying your hands, you don't bother to wait for Yoongi. Passing by the adults in the living room, you silently exit through the front door to get some fresh air.

As if finally freeing yourself from constriction, you inhale the scent of snowflakes and exhale through your nose, an icy breath leaving your lips. You don't notice the front door opening once again. You don't notice the pair of footsteps padding against the soft snow. You only notice it when the footsteps stop beside you.

You turn your head slightly and see Yoongi, who's looking straight ahead. Cautiously, you take a step to your right to increase the distance between you two.

He notices instantly because he scoffs, "I'm not going to bite you."

"I was just making sure," you reason out. "Why are you here, anyway? Did your mom tell you to? You can drop the act now."

He looks at you in disbelief. "I didn't come out here because I was told to. I came here on my own accord."

You frown. "You're legit scaring me now. Will you stop it already?"

This time, Yoongi doesn't let his gaze leave your face. He is intently looking at you, as if scrutinizing every movement you made. Instinctively, you tuck your chin inside the collar of your turtleneck, hoping that it would shield you from his piercing eyes. It doesn't work out.

"I'm not doing anything, Y/N," he says calmly. "It's you who's overthinking—"

"Oh, stop!" You wave your hands at him. "I'm not stupid, Yoongi. You thought I wouldn't notice the way you're acting differently around me now? You don't seem to have that fiery eyes on me every time we talked. It's sickening, almost like you're mocking me."

A silence envelops the two of you, and you feel your cheeks reddening, partly because of the cold but mostly because of the boy who stood beside you.

"You know," he finally speaks. "It's not that difficult to admit to yourself that you missed me."

This time, you have the strength and courage to actually look at him dead in the eyes. "Are you planning to major in slapstick comedy? Because if yes, then I say go for it. Undoubtedly, you'll be the valedictorian just like you always dream of."

He snickers, tilting his head lightly as he reciprocates your incandescent gaze. "You're funny," he tells you.

"See?!" you exclaim. "This is what I mean! Why aren't you arguing back?" You stomp your foot.

He blinks, finding your question dumb. "Because I simply don't want to?" he answers albeit unsure of it himself.

You cross your arms and emit a scoff. "Sure, you do."

"Look," Yoongi starts. "If you're expecting me to argue with you, I won't. I already told you before, a few months ago, I don't abhor you as much as I do before."

"Why?" you ask and this time, he scoffs.

"Why?" he repeats. "For a person like you with immensely high IQ, you suck at reading the room."

Before you could protest, he interrupts you, making sure that your attention was only on him. He takes two steps towards you, decreasing the distance between your bodies.

"Y/N, I may be the bad guy but I'm not a bad guy," he says. "To be honest with you, I, myself, am confused too. I don't strongly loathe you these past few months and I've been questioning myself why either. But—"

He stops and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"What happened to your finger?"

His question catches you off-guard, rendering you to caress the covered part of your skin. You flinch slightly when he holds your hand, raising it to get a proper look on it. His face scrunches and for the first time, you feel something somersaulting in your stomach. You didn't know if you liked it or not, but it was certainly making you feel discomfort.

When you start to feel overwhelmed, you pulled away from his touch, placing your hand to your chest. "I-I'm fine," you stammer.

"Are you sure?" he worriedly asks.

"Yes, I am!" You didn't mean to yell at him but you couldn't help it. He has been making you feel lots emotion. He was confusing you, and the more and more time you were out here with him, the more you were driving to madness.

"You know," he smirks. "If you could stop yelling at me for a second, I could show you much more fun and productive uses for that mouth of yours."

You gape at him, and you start walking backwards when he begins to take defiant steps closer to you. Every time you stepped back, he takes one towards you too. As your back hits the cold exterior walls of your house, you gasp lightly when Yoongi encages you between the walls and his arms, his hands falling on either side of you.

Light snow pelted on both of you but that isn't the reason why you flinch. The reason is because he leans close, increasing the proximity of your faces.

"Yoongi—" you begin to protest but he doesn't let you.

His forehead touches yours and you yelped slightly at the way he is treating you right now. His eyes flutter shut and he speaks in low manner that had you trembling in your position.

"Y/N, you're absolutely driving me crazy," he murmurs. "Like I said, I'm so confused too. My heart and mind are clouded because lately, you've been occupying my thoughts. I loathe the way you bewitch me whenever you use your sharp tongue against me. I despise how you can easily get under my nerves but also it satisfies me whenever you attempt to put me in my place, when you give me a taste of my own medicine."

He pauses, fluttering his eyes open. He leans away slightly, the warmth emanated from his forehead leaving you instantly.

"There is no other plausible explanation for this except for the possibility that... I have been harboring feelings for you for quite awhile now, Y/N." He exhales softly, as if a huge weight has been finally lifted off of his shoulders. "And it's not what you're thinking of. It's the opposite of it."

The world stops for a moment, the snowflakes stop falling, and the time stops ticking. You only hear his soft breaths that had never sounded so calm up until this moment.

"I like you, Y/N." He shows you a coy smile. "And right now, I'm surrendering to you. You can continue to hate me if you want, but it won't change my feelings for you."

Your heart is hammering against your chest wildly, and you only hope that Yoongi isn't hearing how loudly it was beating against your ribcage. As the silence between you two continues to prolong, the harder it was for you to formulate a coherent response.

A buzzing sound slices the still atmosphere and you usher Yoongi to check his phone. He does, sighing in dismay. You warily watch him as he opens his messaging app. You awkwardly stand before him as he scrolls through his chats.

His expression morphs into perturbation. The lump that had formed in his throat getting harder to swallow. You notice his adam's apple bob up and down and you start to wonder what happened.

Then, his eyes leave the screen, searching for yours. When your gazes collide, the confidence that he had a few minutes ago was now gone, replaced by anxiousness.

"I think..." He says reluctantly. "You need to see this."

He hands you his device and you impassively check out what he saw. Then, the blood drains from your skin, your own expression alters to skepticism first, then turns to perplexity once you double take on the image viewed on the screen.

At first, you didn't know what to feel. Your mind going haywire for a fleeting moment. You felt even worse when you look up at Yoongi because his emotion was anything but jubilance. In fact, he rather looks like he was in agony.

But you don't care about that. Your anger only rises, traveling through your veins. At that very moment, standing before your own rival, you were beyond humiliated and enraged that he witnessed your downfall, the scarlet ink being the proof of it.

Top Performers for This Year's Midterms

1. Min Yoongi

2. L/N Y/N

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

The Christmas jingles resonating all throughout the suburbs was unnecessarily aggravating you more than it should be for the reasons that you are making it sound like Christmas is mocking your once exuberant mood a few days ago, and because you didn't like the gift and news you received that night.

Despite the freezing weather's attempts to cool you down, it was heightening your fury instead. Four days after Christmas Eve, you kicked the sheets off yourself and impulsively decided that a walk in the suburbs will be a great idea so that you can finally turn your sour mood into a sweet one.

Alas, it fails miserably. You are still trampling on snow piles as your fervent eyes scan the shops in the sidewalks, desperately trying to look for something that can finally extinguish the fires within you.

But when you reach the end of the street, the tall buildings of stores turning into festive bungalows, and decorated apartments. The worst of all is the duplexes, because the decorations of both similar-structured houses have conjoined Christmas embellishments, letting everyone who passes by know that the two families living inside are more than acquaintances.

It stupidly reminds you of your family's current situation with them. More specifically, your situation with him.

When you finally reach the comfort of your bedroom, contradictory, it doesn't feel comforting at all. Everywhere your gaze lands, they remind you of him; of the fact that he had finally conquered you; that all your hardwork that year were for nothing.

Shutting your eyes close, you begin to recite the numbers of pi, pacing around your room. It was something that you always do when you're stressed.

"...190914564856692346034861045432664821339!" When the door of your bedroom creaks open, you couldn't help but yell nine, as if threatening the one who dares to interrupt your attempts to keep yourself level-headed.

You were about to glare but instead, you were surprised to see your father, peeking through the crevice of your door. You notice that he's slightly anxious because, well, you were screaming numbers.

A sigh escapes your lips and you shuffle towards the door, opening it wider. Your father takes this as a sign that he was invited in your room.

Your relationship with your father is very much uptight and timid which is why between him and your mother, you're less angry at him. At times though, you didn't know how to act around him because you feel like you don't know him. You never bonded with him. Except for that time you were helping him out with connecting the Christmas lights on your roof's gutters.

After that fleeting moment, the bond was gone, as if a scissor magically appeared to cut the strings between you two. You don't hate him for it, but sometimes, you wonder and daydream possible moments where you could actually bond without that suffocating rope forcedly tying you two together.

You wonder if in the past, in the years when you were still full of innocence, purity, oblivious of the histories of the ancient world; when you still didn't know how to count one to three; when you barely knew how to lift a muscle and take the first steps towards your father.

Had he ever squat down before you, his face full of sunshine, and encourage you to come to him with open arms? Tell you that you could do it! That you could make it to the heartwarming embrace of your father's arms?

But the more you try to dig any sort of memory from your lobes, nothing resurfaces. And you were back with the reality that, maybe, he didn't need and have to do all of those.

Because as far as your memory traveled back, you had been completely fine on your own. Maybe, you taught yourself how to walk, think, say your first word.

Because, you were gifted.

And now, as the years go by, you realize that the gift you have, may be also your curse.

It's a tightrope with both ends holding you up, urging you to keep on walking. A gift and a curse on either end, shouting at you—

Stop standing around!

The rope's about to break if you don't start moving another step!

What has gotten into you?!

You used to do this so effortlessly!

"Y/N."

The call of your father's soft voice pulls you out of your trance. You suddenly realize that you had been standing by the door stupidly and your father is looking at you with worry creasing his mature features.

"Oh," you say. "My bad."

You shut the door then turn your back towards your father. You amble towards your desk, attempting to fix the sprawled mess on it by carelessly shoving the scratch papers in your bin, keeping your ballpens and pencils in your pencil case, the zipper loudly being the only source of sound slicing through the deafening silence.

"Sorry about the mess," you say. "I've been busy."

"On your holiday break?" your father asks, chuckling lightly. The sound faintly makes your lips form into a small smile. But as soon as it came, it disappears.

"Yeah, well, I'm growing older. And that means the more I age, the more my ability to suck in information rusts."

Your father doesn't reply after that, so you continue to clean up your desk wordlessly. Once you had nothing to pick up and throw and keep anymore, you finally turn back around to face your father.

He's sitting quiety on the foot of your bed, and you take heed of the small box he's fiddling with his hands. The box is covered with red wrapper, with flurries of snowflakes as pattern.

He notices that your attention is on him, so he stands up from your bed and approaches you in a relaxing manner yet you can catch on the slight cautiousness along it. You decide not to mention anything about it.

He hands you the little parcel, and you accept it wordlessly, opting to wait for him to speak first.

He does. "I wasn't able to get you any gift on Christmas, and I hope I'm not too late. I had a bit of a hard time picking one, but I made sure I thought about it. Hopefully, you'll like this small present."

"Thanks, dad," is your only verbose reply.

He nods and after contemplating a bit, he decides to leave you to it. In your own solitude once again, you scrutinize the small box, tossing it lightly every now and then to guess what it was. You feel movement from inside, like a flow of something liquid.

Your curiosity makes you rip the wrapper apart and it didn't take long for the gift to make its apparition.

The gift is simple like its size, but to you, it holds a lot of meaning. It's a snowglobe, but the inside is what makes it unique. No, Santa Claus isn't there inside nor were the nine reindeers that pulled his sleigh—even the sleigh itself is absent. Rudolph isn't there which makes you slightly pout but it doesn't last long because staring back at you from the other side of the glass is a small girl with Iron Man's arm around her. He is almost hugging her but his other arm remains at his side.

You shake the globe in your hands, chuckling at the bits of snow encompassing the small figures inside.

Indeed, it reminds you of something. You and your father.

But for the first time in forever, you aren't longing. Rather, you are contented.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

It is still snowing a week after New Year. Nothing much happened. You only had a family dinner, watched fireworks, and jumped around because of your belief that you would grow taller if you do so.

But after the first day of the year, things went back to normal. The only difference is the relentless snow pouring everywhere.

Oh, and classes are resumed.

Miraculously, you don't feel as much anger as you did a few weeks ago. You don't know if it's because it's a new year so you just suddenly feel like oh, fuck it, it's been a long ass while, I should chill the eff out.

Weirdly enough, you expected to be really infuriated when your feet leads you to the bulletin board and scan it. You see your name, beside the number two. It sinks in to you of the reality that you're now second but oddly, you don't feel the particular element surging through your veins.

You thought everything's going well so far. And you must have a curse because every time you thought that all is well, that's when the real torrential typhoon arrives.

Tornados hit everywhere, and instead of rainshowers, you see hails vehemently falling on yourself. It hurts so much more than rain, but you had to get through it anyways. Or else, you would die getting shot by mere ice. It was gonna be embarrassing if your soul sees your grave with the words 'Cause of death: ice' engraved on your tombstone.

So, you make sure that you are under control when Min Yoongi does his usual entrance, greeting the student body with nods and smiles. It's slightly different now though, because some of them greeted him back with congratulations.

You resist your eye wanting to twitch when Yoongi's gaze finally lands on you.

A year ago and a year before that, you would always see his eyes fiery and intense, trying to get under your nerves with a mere eye contact. Now, however, his eyes hold on anything but anger. The sight of him doesn't infuriate you for the first time, but it does provoke you for another reason that you were afraid to unravel.

You desperately want to bury what you're feeling six feet below, because as much as you loathe it, you can't help but trail your mind back to that particular night when he had declared his feelings for you.

"I like you, Y/N."

Was that even possible? Was it possible, at all, to grow feelings for the person who constantly tormented you for the years you've known them? You couldn't wrap your mind around it, no matter how smart you are, it seems like you couldn't find any plausible explanation for such circumstances.

Not even when the devil himself is only three inches away from you, did you successfully come up with a conceivable reason.

Yoongi greets you but you don't respond. The crowd was anticipating what would your response be, and you refuse to give them the satisfaction. Instead, you walk past him, not even sparing a glance to any of the spectators. You also drown out their whispers, making you want to yell at them 'Why whisper when I would still hear it anyway, dumbos?'

You don't utter a single world, opting to force to smother the flames instead, maybe bury them deep within your ribcage, lock it with a key and throw it in the Altantic Ocean, hoping that it will land on the Titanic where no one could ever take it. Not even you.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

You spent the whole day in school cocooned in your hoodie, attempting to take naps despite of the loud voices of your teachers and classmates. But you only end up being wide awake, your eyes open, your face on the desk, seeing nothing but black. You succumb in yourself in the trenches of your own thoughts, and you finally drift off.

You don't know how long you've fallen asleep, but your consciousness slowly enters your systems, causing you to become suddenly aware of your surroundings. Unlike a few minutes—or hours—ago, the ambience is silent. Too silent.

When you open your eyes and move your arms slightly, your brows furrow in confusion when the darkness remains. You have no idea if your sense of hearing had heightened in the span of your sleep or if the sound is just extremely loud because you can hear someone breathing, as if they were just beside you.

Squinting your eyes, you brace for the brightness of the world to blind you, but you still see nothing.

You rub your eyes to adjust your sight in the dark. And you finally realize that it is night time. The stars are awake, looking down on you as they twinkle. The moon is round, as if it is luring you to spill your secrets.

Most importantly, you finally process the presence beside you. The main sound source of breathing.

Min Yoongi.

When you look at him, he's already staring at you. It reminds you of that certain night once again. Come to think of it, the situation you both are in is similar. It's night time again.

"What are you doing here?" It's you who breaks the silence. Your voice is slightly hoarse so you clear your throat.

"I could ask you the same." Yoongi shrugs. He leans on his desk, propping his elbow and resting his chin on his palm.

"I fell asleep," you merely say.

"I figured," he replies. "But you slept through your classes? Even after it ended?Huh, I never took you for a deep sleeper."

"It's because of the weather." You grit your teeth, starting to feel annoyed at the exchange you're having with your nemesis.

Your bitter tone, however, doesn't come unnoticed to Yoongi.

"Why are you grumpy? Shouldn't you feel better after a nap?"

"You could say that I woke up on the wrong side of my desk."

He lets out a laugh at your response, and you furrow your eyebrows and frown because your intention wasn't to make a joke.

"Is that your awkward way of flirting with me?" He gives you a coquettish smile.

Your face distorts into disgust. "You're ridiculous."

"What?" Yoongi tilts his head. "You said you woke up on the wrong side of your desk, which is the opposite of where I am. Do you think you would've been in a less sour mood if it was my face you saw first?"

You mentally kick yourself for being slow. Moreoever, you also curse lowly because your heart stopped beating for a fleeting moment.

You also can't contain your irritation any longer. You grimace, making your vexation perceivable to the boy who sat beside you.

"You're really getting on my nerves," you say. "This was your goal all along, right? To deter me away from focus. This was your grandmaster plan all along. To get ahead of me. Well, guess what?" You abruptly stand up from your chair, the furniture screeching against the floor. The eerie sound reverberates through the whole room yet Yoongi doesn't flinch.

"Congratulations, Yoongi," you seethe. "Congratulations for beating me! Did you have fun distracting me? Also, cut the crap, will you? You weren't here because you wanted to set a romantic mood, and maybe try again in making me fall for you, yes? No, you don't have to go through all that bullshit. Not at all. Because right now. Right here, I am giving you the full permission of mocking me! Tada! Isn't this fun? It's all going well for you, isn't it, hm?"

You were now leaning forward, your face right in front of him. You gathered that much of your confidence because you already knew it would be your last. Because the following days, you would probably be drooping in humilation.

However, Yoongi stays put in his seat, his eyes void of any emotion you could decipher. He only looks at you. The silence envelopes the both of you again, and you were losing every bit of patience you had left within you.

But the silence breaks as soon as you acknowledge it.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"

Yoongi's question-declaration cuts you deep. Your breath hitches and you feel like someone had taken your lifeline.

"Wha—"

"You know," he speaks again. "For all the years I've known you, I always thought that even if we were in an apocalypse; if we were the last humans on earth, I would rather date a zombie that have myself associated with you. It was always easier that way, right?" He pauses, looking briefly at you before shifting his gaze at the silvery scenery outside. "It was easy... but now, it's difficult to think that way. Because in all my life, I have never even considered, thought about falling for you."

At the last word, his eyes meet yours and a thousand galaxies can be seen in his irises. You can see your own reflection in his eyes, unsaid words starting to spill out the more stars his eyes consumed.

"Your brutal words used to be my melodies, because whenever I hear you utter words of hatred at me, they become my symphonies. I was always satisfied having successfully gotten into your nerves. But now, they're like bullets to me. Your wicked words are curses to me. Whenever you express your loathe, they come across as daggers now. But they also bewitch me in some way, because I know that you don't vehemently hate anyone else as much as you hate me."

A soft wind kisses both of your skin, serving as the temporary rest between the overwhelming tension between you.

"But I can't help but think..." He moves from his seat, standing up from it and you are forced to stand properly as well.

He takes a step closer to you. "That maybe, just maybe, we are on the same boat."

"That maybe, the reason you're getting so worked up on me right now is because you feel the same way." Another step closer.

"That maybe, I'm not going insane. That this is all totally normal for me to feel." Another step closer.

The back of your knees hit the teacher's desk, and you yelp slightly at the familiar proximity of your bodies. The night of Christmas Eve haunts you back, but oddly, it doesn't asphyxiate you. Rather it dawns on you in a soothing manner, but also in a way that the weight of the world on your shoulders becomes a bit bearable.

The eventual arrives upon you and it hits you like a meteor plunging on the earth's surface, burying itself deep within the soil so that it becomes a part of the planet. Everything started to make sense to you at this very moment; why you cared so much about how well Yoongi did in every exam you took; why it seems that everything he does gets under your skin; why everything he says stuck to you the most, etching on your mind and it becomes a mantra in your head.

It had always been him. You had always loved that fucker, even more this moment of realization. And it terrifies you now more than anything. You wanted to incessantly succumb yourself under denial, but you knew you would only feel worse than you already are.

You can't push him away any longer, because the more you do, the more your world collapses, and sooner or later you will find yourself underneath the heap of rubble you created yourself. That no matter how vehement you scream for help, nobody will come to you.

But in the depths of your abyssal thoughts, you finally conjure the image of your worst enemy; the one who pulls you out of the demolished building; the one who embraces you and whisper you sweet nothings.

You unconsciously sought Yoongi in all seasons because he have always been the one who saw you; he's the cold wind that caresses your cheeks, the storm that torments you, the sunlight that blinds you, the water that pours on you so that you'll bloom.

And now, the autumn leaves that delicately descend on your palms, and you nuzzle your nose against his, the warmth emanating from him instilling in yours.

His lips ghost over yours, and he whispers, "Tell me to stop. And if you don't... I will take that as your indication that you're returning my feelings."

Yoongi's lips are soft when he brushes it against yours a few times before he presses deeper. His lips are sweet when you taste him the first time in your tongue. His kiss is deliberately and painfully slow but he fills you to the brim, taking in all of your cold breaths. His touch is gentle and tender, stroking the soft skin of your nape as he searches for an angle that can fully quench his desire for you.

It was nothing like you ever imagined, because you never did. Only in this moment, did you let your mind wander to dangerous territory. Your fantasies getting vivid as each second passed by as he drinks in your breathless exhales, strokes your hip lovingly.

Your eyes are still fluttered shut when the warmth of his mouth leaves yours, and you suddenly feel empty. When you open them, his beauty greets you and your eyes that once held fervid flames are extinguished into something much more gentle and fond.

That's all that it takes for Yoongi to know what you truly feel about him.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

The blanket of snow dissipates, replaced by the freshly-bloomed flowers, coating the once melancholic pavement. Flocks of birds fills the void, the leaves rustle, and the world seems a whole lot livelier than before.

Furthermore, you are much more in a state of tranquility.

Spring break arrives sooner than you expected, and you are once again free from the bars of school. Lately, however, you don't deem that place like a prison anymore. It had become much more bearable and breathable for you to step foot on it.

One, because being at the top doesn't matter to you anymore (partly because you had a recent discovery that you pretty much enjoyed being at the bottom, if you know what I mean). Two, because you decided that you're going to use your gift in a much more calmer way, where you won't have to stress too much about your grades, as long as you continue to do well in every aspect of your academic performance.

And three, because you look forward for the rendezvouses your boyfriend plans every single week day.

Stolen kisses in empty classrooms and janitors' closets, discreet hand-holdings in crowded public spaces such as the cafeteria, playful banters in the hallways to put on a show for everyone to see, the thrill of getting caught whenever things got a little bit too heated between the two of you in the darkness of storage rooms.

Yeah, while everyone else still thinks you're each other's rivals, you two have a secret relationship taking place in the premises, right under their noses.

Yoongi and you had no problem about it at all. You two came into a mutual agreement that you were going to keep this rivalry thing going on only for the sake of the adrenaline rush pumping through both of your veins at the thought of your schoolmates possibly finding out what has been transpiring between the two of you.

You've never understood the meaning of love and hate until now. They are two emotions, not entirely the opposite of each other, but they belong to both sides of a coin. The coin wouldn't exist without the other. That's why you worry less about the future that awaits you, because it's Yoongi.

Yoongi had seen you in your worst and so did you had seen his. There's that fine line that exists between the both of you of love and hate, which is why you think that indifference is the opposite of love instead. Because with indifference, you don't give a damn about that person. That isn't the case for you at all on what you feel towards Yoongi.

He is the psychedelic drug you never want to stop drinking. It feels overwhelming at times, but you feel good. And you make sure to return the favor when the coin lands on your side.

Once again, he pulls you out of your reverie, intertwining his fingers with yours. He keeps your hands in the pocket of his coat, while you blush underneath his stare. He walks ahead slightly, pulling you along with him. You don't know where he'll take you on your umpteenth date, but you let him do as he pleases to you.

Yeah, this feels all right.

Maybe, you don't mind him being at the top at all. As long as it was always you who follows behind him.

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l1tw1ck · 1 year

Text

Secret Online Life

While trying to befriend your stepson, you find something you weren't quite expecting to see

Stepdad Reader (No Pronouns)

Bottom!FTM Idia x Top!Masc Reader

{Request} [Series] | [No AFAB Language Ver (AO3)]

CW: Getting Caught, Cheating, Daddy Kink, Oral, Praise, Cum Shot, Taking Pictures, Lingerie, Belly Bulge, Squirting, Nipple Play, Creampie

📝 1,975 Words

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You've been married to Idia's dad for about a year now and you can count on your fingers how many times you've seen Idia. He usually stays holed up in his room all day, only leaving to eat, pick up packages, or go to the convenience store.

When you do talk to him, he's shy and his face gets red. He avoids eye contact and looks like he wants to leave the conversation as soon as possible. You managed to ask him, your husband, and his brother if Idia hates you and all three of them said no. You figured he's just nervous so you decided to try and get him to warm up to you.

You asked his brother what he likes and got him some snacks. You walk down to the basement and knock on his door a few times but get no response. You open the door to make sure he's okay and the sight before you causes your mouth to hang open.

Idia's wearing a white lacy lingerie while sitting on a chair, not his gaming chair as he'd probably struggle to...ride the dildo he's currently on. His panties seem to have a hole in them and the dildo inside him is thick and transparent. He's pinching his nipples and talking to the multiple cameras pointed at him, one pointing in between his legs. You've never wanted to be a camera so bad in your life.

"You think I'm pretty?" Idia questions shyly. "Thank you.."

You stare at him intensely, eyes moving all around his body before focusing on his lower half as he grinds down on the dildo.

You're the only one home so you stay there, stroking yourself to the sight. He may be your stepson but by all hell is he irresistible. You stay there until he shuts off the stream.

Now you know why he chose to live in the basement of all places. The house had plenty of rooms but the basement's practically soundproof and very secretive. The perfect place to record adult content.

You pull your pants up and leave to take a shower, planning on talking to him about it tomorrow.

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You started to think about his body language when he's around you, the way he'd squeeze his legs together and chew on his bottom lip had you wondering if it was less about being uncomfortable with someone unfamiliar and more about being attracted to you.

And so, you decided to take a shot in the dark. More like a dimly lit basement, metaphorically speaking.

You knock on his door and he says "hold on" just loud enough for you to hear. You hear some shuffling and then some soft footsteps.

"Oh.." Idia looks up at you then down at his feet. "Yes..?"

"Can I come in? I need to talk to you."

Idia's heart pounds faster, he knows he's done something but he doesn't know what. He wonders if you opened one of his packages or even worse found one of his social media accounts. He lets you in but lets his mind wander to different things.

You motion for him to sit on the end of his bed and he does, looking at anything but you.

"I found out about that little hobby of yours, Idia. You're an adult and I'm no prude so I'm not upset at you, however, since you're doing this under my roof and likely buying things thanks to the allowance I give you...I think I'm entitled to some benefits."

"My...my money..?" He asks. Idia gets all his money from you, some from his father, and from being a camboy. With the money he gets from you and his father, he isn't really bothered by having to give you the other money. "Okay.."

"You know I don't need money, sweetheart." You chuckle. "I'll put it bluntly, I wanna fuck you."

Idia's face gets redder than before. He wonders if he had an auditory hallucination. "Me..?"

"If you don't want to, that's fine."

Idia finally makes eye contact with you, his lips trembling as he forms the proper words to say. "I want to.."

Your guess was right, he likes you. You move back and point to the floor, Idia immediately gets on his knees and looks up at you.

You pull down your pants and boxers, your semi-soft cock flopping onto his face. A small moan leaves Idia's lips.

You jerk yourself to full length, the sight making Idia ache in anticipation. You're bigger than all the dildos he has and he can't wait to feel you inside him.

You guide your length into his mouth and Idia stays pliant for you, eyes turning half lidded as you slide your cock in and out. "Such a good boy, taking me so well." You push his hair back gently. Even when you hit the back of his throat he doesn't gag, his mouth is perfect.

Idia moans vibrate along your shaft, his hand reaching down in between his legs to relieve some tension. He ruts against his palm erratically, loving the feeling of your thick length in his mouth but also anticipating it's entrance inside him. The more you thrust into his mouth the more he anticipates it.

"Getting desperate, Idia?" You chuckle, pulling out of his mouth and pumping your cock a few times before coming over his face. "You don't mind if I take a picture for myself, do you?" You take your phone out.

Idia shakes his head and looks up at the camera, unintentionally making a cute face for you.

You snap the picture and move him onto the bed, making him lay on his back. "Such a pretty thing.." You move your hand up underneath his shirt, feeling a lace bra. "Oh? Were you about to stream?"

You notice his weirdly put together outfit, a big wrinkly t shirt and some pajamas pants. He clearly put it on when he heard you knock.

Idia shakes his head. "I was just gonna...take pictures.."

"Really? Where's your camera? Can't have me be the reason your fans miss out on some sexy pictures."

"You don't have to.." Idia bites his lip, not wanting to wait any longer. "I...want you to- to fuck me already.." He says, his body language and voice madly sinful yet somewhat innocent.

You press a finger to his lips, resisting his charm. "Not yet, princess. You're going to be patient for Daddy, okay?"

Idia pouts, getting even more aroused. "Okay.." He shakily points to his high quality camera.

You take a few pictures of him with his clothes on, some pictures focusing on his cum drenched face. Then you push his shirt up, showing the baby blue lace bra he has on. They hold his small breasts nicely, squeezing them together perfectly.

You squeeze one of them and snap a picture before moving down to his pants. You help him pull them down and you pause, a grin growing on your face.

He's wearing garters, which are holding up two white stockings.

You squeeze his soft, thick thigh before taking a few more pictures. Idia forgets about his whiny complaints, getting turned on by your focused and lustful expression. He feels like a work of art being observed by an art critic. He's never felt this beautiful before.

He looks at you dreamily as you bring his legs up in the air and point the camera at his clothed pussy. Idia lets out a soft moan when your finger slides up to his t-dick, brushing against the sensitive growth before moving your hand down to push the fabric aside.

You take one final picture of his wet pussy and then one of his whole body before placing the camera down on the side drawer. You wipe up his face so he doesn't have to have cum on his face all night.

"You're so wet, baby." You slide a finger into him with ease, adding another to loosen him up a little. "You've been so patient for me, such a good boy.." You kiss his little dick, licking it a bit before pulling away.

Idia moans, twitching from the contact. "Please...please fuck me.."

"Daddy needs to loosen you up first, 's gonna hurt."

"I don't care...I need your cock, please, Daddy."

You bite your lip, you're painfully hard and Idia's doing an amazing job at seducing you so you sigh and let him win. "Fine, all good boys deserve rewards after all." You climb onto the bed and slot yourself in between his legs.

Idia watches as you push the tip of your cock inside him, stretching his hole out nicely. He bites his lip and hisses as you move further. You pause and look at him in worry. He shakes his head. "Keep going.."

With that reassurance, you do as he says, pushing your length further and further inside him until he's completely filled up. His hand moves down to his lower stomach, pushing down the bump. He'd been masturbating to the thought of this, fantasizing about what it could look and feel like if you ever had sex with him. Idia almost came from seeing the bulge in his stomach.

You smirk, feeling him clench your cock. "See how good I'm filling you up, baby?"

Idia nods with his cheeks flushed. His toys pale in comparison.

You grab hold of his waist and slowly pull out before thrusting hard, making Idia mewl. You set a fast yet comfortable pace for him. "You feel amazing–"

Idia moans, feeling pure bliss from having you take his virginity. Barely comprehensible mumbles of pleasure leave his soft and wet lips, hands making its way up to his chest. He pinches his nipples through the thin lace, feeling more pleasure from the fabric tickling the sensitive buds.

You move one of his hands away, replacing it with your mouth.

Idia rolls his head back, gasping as a sudden sensation of pleasure overwhelms his body. "Da- Daddy~!" He chokes out. "Gonn- gonna co- come~!"

You keep going, your hand fondling his t-dick and instantly bringing him to an orgasm. He arches his back and squirts, walls spasming around your cock.

You pull away from his nipple and kiss the tear that fell from his eye, slowing your thrusts. "That's right...squirt on Daddy's cock." You groan in his ear, nibbling on it.

"No- no- keep...keep going..faster..." Idia weakly rolls his hips. "Want...want Daddy to co- come too-"

"I can't or I'll come inside you, baby, I have to pull out." You kiss him softly, retracting yourself from inside him.

Idia wraps his legs around you, giving you a pleading look. "Come inside." He says with a surprising amount of confidence while he tries to fuck himself on your length. "Wanna feel it inside me...'M on the pill." He takes it to stop his period but he always hoped he could use it for one of its other functions.

You bite your lip and grip his hips hard enough to bruise them, fucking him hard enough to bring you to your orgasm quickly. "You're perfect.." You groan. "Gonna fill your pretty pussy up with my cum, sweetheart."

"Yes~! Oh- please~!" Idia moans, jerking himself off to come with you.

You kiss him sloppily before moving to his neck, nipping away at it as you reach your peak. Idia lets out high pitched moans and comes quickly after you.

You slowly pull out and watch the cum drip out of him. You quickly grab the camera and take a picture, wanting to savor this moment. You give his pussy a harsh but loving smack, you smirk when it squeezes around nothing.

He looks so pretty with his face flushed and his body trembling.

Makes you want to go another round.

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hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger · 3 months

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I read Ultimate Spider-Man #1 by Hickman

So I checked this out in isolation of the whole event or events leading up to it.

I'm trying to decide if this is a case of false advertising or if it is actually as disappointing as it seemed.

This series was marketed on the grounds of 'come check out a married Spider-Man with kids'. But that was by no means the focus of the story. The focus was upon a) Uncle Ben's grieving Aunt May and b) peter's choice about whether to be Spider-Man or not.

Let me steelman and say, hey, the marketing was exploitative but that isn’t Hickman’s fault.

Honestly, this premise is still rather broken.

Let’s say, for the sake of argument, this universe is identical to 616 except the Maker has strategically meddled with it to avert the existence of superheroes.

Okay…so he made sure Peter’s parents died when he was 15 instead of like a toddler. And also that he wasn’t bitten by the spider. And also that there was no burglar. Couldn’t he have just gotten rid of the spider? Why all the extra stuff? And if he didn’t do anything other than get rid of the spider…why are all those other things different?

Speaking of which how/when/why does Jameson know the Parker family at all? Uncle Ben was a factory worker, he had NOTHING to do with the newspaper business and why would a working class guy like him know a millionaire/billionaire like Jameson? Why would he ever go into that business? Why would the Maker change that at all? If he didn’t change that how could ANY of the changed he made in the timeline ever have resulted in that?

Similarly, why is PETER working for the Bugle? Peter’s interest in photography was specifically in relation to his career as Spider-Man. Yes, he developed something of an interest in it later in life in his 20s, but that was a fleeting thing after he left college. It was never really his long term career goal. Sure, you could say he is working on the science section of the Bugle. But…why? Why wouldn’t he just, you know….go into a scientific field in general? What does the Maker gain from changing that if he was responsible for changing that at all?*

And this, in fact, is a microcosm of how the premise of this story is borked. In a world where Peter Parker

Is an adult

Was not really raised by Uncle Ben and Aunt May because his parents died when he was 15

Never experienced the death of Uncle Ben or Aunt May in his teens

Was never a superhero

HOW exactly is he the character we know and love? The fun of a What If or AU is contrasting the new version to the character we are familiar with. But by rights he should be MASSIVELY different as a person. He wasn’t raised by people who were almost a generation older than his parents. He didn’t have to bear the burden of being a provider or caregiver for his household as a teenager. He never had to cope with the guilt of Uncle Ben’s death. And would he even know the Great Power/Great Responsibility thing considering it was a combination of being RAISED by his aunt and uncle along with Ben’s death that drilled that into him? In this universe neither of those things are factors so if he DOES live by that life lesson how and why would he?

As an extension of that, how and why did he wind up with Mary Jane considering his upbringing combined with his life as Spider-Man were important factors in them falling in love. Mary Jane was attracted to his sense of responsibility, but that sense of responsibility came about due to his upbringing and that upbringing has changed. Not to mention, given her abusive father, knowing Peter was a man who had incredible power (like her father had over her) but used it responsibility was a HUGE aspect of her attraction to him, plus she got turned on by the danger to some extent.

So…how did they hook up? Unless the Maker for some fucking reason decided to make sure MJ’s Dad was a successful author and never touched the booze. But WHY would he do that????????????

And then you have the big one which is…Peter can magically sense he is in fact supposed to be Spider-Man….um…Okay, so, yes, Peter does have a certain belief in destiny because he talked about it maybe being his destiny to be Spider-Man when he was a teenager and even older. But…that was a belief. He questioned it. He never SENSED that about himself. You could argue being Spider-Man is from his POV something he doesn’t have a choice about, but that’s like saying a parent doesn’t have a choice to look after their kids. They do. It’ just that you do not have a choice about it if you feel compelled to be a good person. It was never a magical bullshit thing.

Hickman in this regard and in his general portrayal of Peter is almost making this weird ass nature over nurture argument. That Peter wouldn’t been broadly the same kind of guy we always knew him to be albeit he could commit to a 9/5, a family and be less tightly strung because he doesn’t have the stress of heroism or guilt shit. And I guess he has less of a sense of humour? (Although so does Uncle ben, though he is grieving…although Jonah is a lot more touchey feeley than he should be as well sooooooo….)

But that’s just…lame.

It’s making a mockery of Peter Parker’s struggles in the 616 and most traditional portrayals. His experiences are integral in forming him into who he is as a person. Hickman is arguing that Richard and Mary’s DNA was actually the most important thing in shaping his personality. Unless are we really saying Richard and Mary would’ve been broadly the same kind of parents May and Ben were? They were goddam CIA agents!?

And on top of that…the story is making this BROKEN argument for Peter being a superhero. He feels like he is drifting through life. He feels unfulfilled. Like something is missing. Uh huh…um…what about your kids bro?

If you become a superhero aren’t you going to be potentially exposing your family to danger? Don’t you risk your kids growing up without a father because you get killed, crippled or are generally occupied a lot by being a hero.

Now, to be clear, that situation is A LOT different to 616 Peter who already had great power before meeting MJ. He also started his career at age 15 vs this Peter who’s literally going to learn how to web-swing and fight at age 35! Shit, most people whobecome soldiers, fire fighters or police officers don’t START their careers (with 0 training btw) at age 35! And there is a massive support network for those roles too.

I’m not saying Peter can’t be a superhero and a family man, but I am saying it is morally wrong for him to CHOOSE to turn himself into a superhero when he already is a family man. This is like saying it is okay for a man in his midlife crisis to blow a chunk of the family savings on a sports car or get himself a 20 year old mistress because it will make him a more engaged husband and father.

Basically, this first issue represents a lose-lose scenario from where I am standing. We don’t know much about how this Peter is different. The ways in which he is don’t make sense. The ways in which he is similar don’t make sense. These questions need to be answered BEFORE we get to the premise of the story (Peter choosing to be Spider-Man at age 35 when he is a family man). And the premise itself is unbelievable unless we want to buy into Peter being a selfish asshole, which therefore makes him unlikable in general and very much NOT like the Spidey we know and love.

Basically, this series might as well NOT be about Peter Parker in the first place, but some other guy living through a mid-life crisis by becoming a superhero.

*Are you noticing how I kee coming back to the Maker as a explanation for these changes? I don’t even know if the stuff leading into this spelt out what he was and wasn’t involved with, but that is a big question that should be addressed. Unfortunately it is the ONLY way to explain these changes beyond ‘its just different because it is’. And either way it is lazy and lame as shit.

#Spider-Man #Peter Parker #Ultimate Spider-Man #Jonathan Hickman #mary jane watson #mary jane watson parker #Uncle Ben #Ben Parker

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angrycloudloud · 3 months

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My dear half bloods, I have a theory...

Hi, there's something that's been bugging me since the other day, when I watched the fifth episode of pjo...

Spoilers from here (and a bit of mythology)

When Ares said that he didn't like his children... Okay, I know, I know the gods in this series aren't known for paying child support, but... I think Ares case could be more heartbroken than what we can think at first.

I want to start giving a bit of context in WHY I think there's something really sad behind his words and acts. First, let's talk a bit about mythology...

Ares cares about his children... In his own way.

I'll put a couple of quick examples (just mention something and move back to my point). Ares in Greek mythology it's known for many things and one that I found interesting was that he march in battle with his sons by his side: Phobos and Deimos (fun fact 1 these two are the personification of Panic and Fear, fun fact 2 they are also sons of Aphrodite... Fun fact 3, yes, they are the little "demons" that were the minions of Hades in the Disney movie.) Ares is also known for what happened to his daughter Alcippe, who was 🍇 by a son of Poseidon and Ares didn't took it too well... So he send that son of Poseidon to visit Hades... He unsubscribed that man from the world of the living with his spear... Ares was judged acussed by Poseidon of murder, but the goddesses voted in favor of Ares. (anyway, I invite anyone who is interested in ancient Greek mythology and culture to look up and read about women's rights in Sparta vs Athens, you might be surprised) Now, my point is that he might say that he doesn't like his kids but...

...I mean... he gave Clarisse the spear because he recognized her value as a warrior. It may sound stupid, but I think it was his way of saying that he was proud of her (and maybe he said that to her when he gave the spear to Clarisse, we don't know). What, it's clear, is the fact that she cherished that spear as if he really put all his love in it and said to her "this is my weapon, make me proud"

But why and how does he goes from "I fight with my children by my side in battle" and "don't you f*cking touch my daughter" to "I hate children, even my own"?

And here's when it gets sad, I think he has lose so many of his children in battle, dying too young, that he distance himself from them on purpose to not get too attached.

We've seen, pretty well portrayed in the show, how Ares children are more reckless in battle than Athena's (it's an example because they both are deities of war) so it's more than possible that if those children are in a quest or a battle, they decide to go face to face with the big baddie just to make Ares proud or to prove themselves they are strong enough to be warriors, children of Ares... And if they survived and get older, they are the most likely to end up joining the army... aaand that exposes them to die in battle even when the monsters aren't a problem anymore.

And that's why, I think, Ares had try to detached himself from his children, because he knows demigods don't live long and even if they got to be adults, he knows his children, and probably he knows they'll become soldiers to feel the battle and feel him closer even when they already have earned a peaceful life.

And that is why I think it's sad, because he probably is so proud of them...but also, he is probably so worried about them, that he had to decide if letting himself be vulnerable and care openly for his children or bottle up all his father instincts and detach himself from his children so nobody can weaponize them against him.

Aaaaaand now I'm sad...

#pjo tv show #ares pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo ep 5 #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo

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serendertothesquad · 2 months

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"Wordsville" and the Problem with Cash-Cow Copies

[note original day of creation was February 15, 2024. just...just for reference. trust me bro.]

Hello.

Tonight I am in a silly mood fueled by sleep deprivation.

That means you all get an introspective blog that I will complete within a week and then ask "why'd I write that?"

So here's what's on Seren's lovely table of discussion tonight...

Put...put away the glasses. You don't need your glasses. This is the highest-quality thing I can get.

But et voila. A little project in the works called Wordsville.

Now, at this point you might be asking why I'm referencing "cash-cow copies" in the title. And whoo-hoo...oooooh...well, I don't want to make this some kind of clickbait blog, so I might as well perfect the atomic bomb in five minutes and land it on you folks.

What if I were to tell you that this is a blatant, shameless, slap-a-digital-coat-on-it-and-call-it-a-day copy of Odd Squad?

Ahhh, see, now I have you intrigued. Hopefully. If you are, then peep down below and let me discuss things a little more in-depth for you non-believing hacks asking me if I'm borderline insane.

So to put things in perspective, allow me to explain what Wordsville is, starting with my own personal summary.

Wordsville is an up-and-coming episodic (not to be confused with serialized, that's a whole 'nother ballgame) TV series that is produced (and will later be distributed) by Sinking Ship Entertainment and is made with assistance from WNET, a PBS station located in New Jersey, and TVO Kids, PBS Kids's girlfriend from Canada that's definitely real.

It was announced back in October of last year with a press release from Kidscreen, which didn't give much info aside from the following blurb:

Wordsville stars two child detectives on the hunt for missing words that are causing chaos in their town.

Sounds a little familiar, don'tcha think? Two kid detectives, finding something missing...and that "something missing" is causing chaos where they live?

Oh, but if you think the similarities end there, then no. No the absolute fuck they do not. I've got my bathing suit on and God damn it if I'm not gonna jump all the way in the pool instead of dippin' my little toes in there.

Doing a little bit of digging reveals more tidbits from a casting call for the series. It's rather wordy (ayyyyyy I did a funy), so let's take it piece by piece and discuss accordingly.

Wordsville is a town populated entirely by kids

A town that is populated entirely by children? Now c'mon, surely that doesn't ring a be-

...Ah. Whaddya know. Yes it does.

And with the adults as useless and idiotic as they are, it might as well be a town full of solely children. Next question.

and it’s a place where words matter. A lot. Every kid citizen has a special connection to words. And that means that if something happens to a word, there are far-reaching consequences.

A special connection to words? Like how there are children who have a special connection to normalcy? Stopping, oh, I dunno, hypothetically speaking...

...oddness?

Okay okay, I'm reaching just a wee bit here, but you can't read this and not tell me it echoes the funny kids math show to some degree or another. If an odd thing happens to a person, the whole town suffers. You've seen it. I've seen it. It's been the basis for many an A and B-plot. Must I elaborate? Good, because I don't plan on it. Continuing.

If the Main Street Baker bakes delicious donuts and they all mysteriously disappear, nothing else in Wordsville can taste good until they are returned.

Town Baker walked so Main Street Baker can sprint while blowing their lungs out.

If the Town Doctor’s soothing medication gets swiped, the whole town gets uncontrollably itchy until the medicine-napper is uncovered.

Ignoring the incredibly dark implications of this as well as the implications of this shoddy knockoff town having only one single doctor...

Dr. O walked so the Town Doctor can sprint while blowing their lungs out...over their massive paycheck.

(I technically could have also put New Dr. O too, but I'd like to spring for iconic OG's here. New Dr. O is neither iconic nor an OG.)

And let me remind you that "Torontonians get uncontrollably itchy due to something odd" would, by technicality, classify as an odd problem. Because...I mean, y'know...the cause is something odd happening. Doing shit with words is odd. This needs absolutely no explaining.

If the Local Scientist does an experiment with electricity and all the lights in town go out, they won’t come back on until the experiment wrecker is revealed.

Yep, I've taken shots of every IPA I can. We nearly hit the main character quadfecta, if you discount Dr. "bro thinks she's part of the team" O. All they needed was a bit about a high governing body and we'd round out the quad squad in proper with Oprah!

There's also a sneaky lil' crumb in the form of that blurb relating to Oona, who did, indeed, experiment with electricity in one episode and wound up proving why she can never take up Crossfit.

Hmmmnnnnext!

In each crime, the episodic word disappears and can’t return until the mystery is solved. The impact of the missing word is felt all over town.

This is another one of those things that I gotta wrench a hammy for in terms of comparisons, because about the only thing I can reasonably compare Odd Squad to is the second sentence.

See, here's the thing. You get oddness that happens to a person. Oftentimes, that oddness spreads to other people, whether directly (in the form of diseases and disorders) or indirectly (like the Town Baker's cakes being split in half, which wouldn't please Torontonians poppin' in for a whole cake and eyeing the display to get a feel for one). In a sense, normalcy disappears and, well, it can't return until [insert partner pair here] solve the case. It's kinda the entire schtick of Odd Squad as a franchise. It's formulaic, just like how Wordsville's "words disappear and nothing can be normal until the word returns" schtick is formulaic.

Is it a stretch? Perhaps. Mileage may vary. I think it's a bit of a stretch, personally. But hey, I'm a grown adult critiquing a ripoff of a kids STEM show. I shouldn't be talking. But I didn't start this fandom nearly 10 years ago just to let Sinking Ship's piss-poor attempt at really capitalizing on one of their biggest franchises sliiiiiide right by me on a floor smooth enough where I'm falling on my ass every 10 seconds.

Luckily, best friends and partners Sage and Chase are on the case and run the only detective agency in town. These tech-savvy sleuths solve mysteries entirely virtually because their reading, listening and digital literacy skills are their greatest strengths. Sage and Chase always catch their culprit and make sure everything is right with the word.

Now where in the McFuck do I start with this one? The PAW Patrol catchphrase thrown in complete with shared name? The fact that there is only one detective agency in the entire town? The fact that Sage and Chase are best friends as well as work partners? Or the pun that made me actively cringe in a way I haven't felt since Whitney told James she wanted to go on the lake?

I mean...this is about Odd Squad, so...I guess the second one sounds most plausible.

But that doesn't need explaining either. There is only one detective agency in town. There is one Odd Squad precinct per city or per state.

No, neither does the third bit. I already referenced Olive and Otto above. You should know what's up.

(I've also read that blurb five times now and...well...we'll get to the digital stuff in a bit. That just needs a whole side-set of word vomit.)

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In my digging of this series -- which, well, wasn't all that much -- I managed to find a few blurbs on our two main characters. The casting call for them, funny enough, called for, and I will quote this exactly, "talent to look 9."

As in, they want the actors to physically look 9 years old.

Which puts that qualifier in the same ballpark as Odd Squad UK's "talent must be Canadian but live in the UK". But at least that prerequisite actually had a legitimate earnest reason behind it, which is that the production needed to be Canadian in a lot more than just the "Canadian prodco works on a British series" sense. Hiring kids who have to physically look 9 years old and will probably be yoted onto the street the second puberty hits them like a truck is a practice not even the most egregious bosses of family-owned-and-operated businesses could pull off.

But enough about the qualifiers. Let's get started on our character comparisons and civil cidiscussion! (Oh the irony...)

And remember this: the casting call was handled by Larissa Mair Casting, who previously did casting for Odd Squad. So that means there will be tinny lil' crumbs of bonus material for me to dissect and discuss! Huzzah! Aw God why can't this happen for Odd Squad UK...man, I'm gonna have to go into my sobbing corner...

First up, we have Sly Sleuth, originally referred to as "Sage" here. I'll also be referring to him as "Sage" in this blog.

Sage is a great detective; thoughtful, extremely logical, and talented at getting information out of people.

Thoughtful of others. Logical. And can wrench information out of suspects like a badass.

Yep, we got an Olive that got hit with an Olando-fied beam. (And because half of you don't know who Olando is: Sage is meant to be a male Olive. I hope that clears things up for you.)

What else?

Nothing related to vocabulary or literacy gets by this investigator. Suspects can underestimate Sage but that is always a mistake. Sage doesn’t scare easily and won’t take no for an answer, traits that make an excellent detective.

You could tell me this was how Olive was meant to be written in "My Better Half", word for word, and I would honestly believe you. Right down to asking, "Her name was Sage in pre-production?"

About the only place I can draw the line here is at Olive not scaring easily. We don't know Sage's backstory -- and once again, this is an episodic series, so don't expect much in the way of plot, backstory included -- but Olive, at least, has a legitimate reason for all the times she covers her ears at loud noises or sharply reacts to something startling.

The former is because of The Censor-Friendly Bullet Massacre of '15.

The latter is because Dalila Bela marched straight out of a viewing of Who Framed Roger Rabbit and never looked back.

I...can't really say either applies to Sage. At least not yet. We'll have to see if Sinking Ship decides to bring Wordsville into its lil' multiverse that Odd Squad and Dino Dana and Endlings and Playdate already share.

Sage is also wise, which is why the name “Sage” is completely appropriate.

Sooooo does that mean his name is Sly because he's cunning like a fox?

Well then in other news, Olive is named such because she was inspired by the famous Law and Order character Olivia Benson. I have fifteen folders that back me right the hell up. Also I contacted Sinking Ship the other day, they explicitly told me.

No, no, but in all seriousness. Olive, too, is very wise. Historian buff, knows her shit about Odd Squad, doo-dah, doo-dah.

Anyway, next up we have Chase, who was renamed to "Gabby Gumshoe". (I'll be referring to her as Chase in this blog, as well.) Let's see what's on the chopping block for her in terms of our favorite food-loving, hella tall, crazy silly blorbo.

Chase is a fantastic detective, but is also goofy[,] funny, visually oriented, and, like the name suggests, loves the “chase”.

Now there's a man who got hit with a yassified beam, right there.

I'll leave it up to you folks whether you consider Otto to be "visually oriented". But in terms of "loving the chase"...yeah, I'd say that fits.

To lay it down: Otto is a rookie agent. Common sense would lead anyone to assume that he has an absolute blast solving odd cases and absorbing every bit of knowledge about Odd Squad that he possibly can. He finds out a villain's on the loose? He's right there, by Olive's side, workin' to catch 'em. He finds out oddness has run rampant throughout the town? He's right on that shit.

Chase, on the other hand, is someone I wouldn't call a rookie. It's made quite evident that she is, for all intents and purposes, seasoned. Seasoned enough that she manages to keep the detective agency she works for afloat and get approval from the others in Wordsville, Sage included. This, perhaps, is because she's not really meant to be an audience surrogate in the same way Otto is. Otto, at least for the first few episodes, serves as a way to ease the audience into Odd Squad and show them what the organization is and what they do without yoting them into it and leaving them asking "Where am I?" more times than a drunkard. Chase doesn't fill that role, because it could be argued that such a show like Wordsville doesn't really need an audience surrogate. Whether that's true, though, remains to be seen.

People tend to underestimate this investigator, but Chase often notices things like a chocolate stain when someone said they didn’t like chocolate or a squiggle of icing that turns out to be the antonym of the word they’re tracking.

Y' take Otto's...Otto's love of food...and y' put it in a gorl...and BAM you got a character.

...

That isn't a joke. It's dead-on serious. Even the casting call script pins Chase as a kid with a sweet tooth! It's just Otto but with a less diverse palate! Otto eats everything! This kid eats sweets! God sakes, give her some juice, make her Oprah, I don't give a shit, fucking hell I'm driving 50 minutes to Burger Ki-

Chase is also great with computers and incredibly artistic. A graphic note taker[,] Chase loves to draw, has a great eye for details, is a big fan of the “zoom in” function, and really enjoys creating animated re-enactments of Word Mysteries.

All right, we finally have somewhere we can draw the line.

No, not at being tech-literate. With being artistic.

Otto's artistic talent kind of varies throughout the franchise. In drawing on paper, he's pretty solid for an I-just-recently-turned-10-please-praise-me-year-old. In making paper airplanes, he's solid enough to take down a grown-ass man and rock his sunglasses when he's done for.

In computer drawing...well...if you can believe it, concepts like Ibispaint and Photoshop don't exist in the world of Odd Squad. (Okay, maaaaybe Photoshop does. I don't think it does. But it could be a good in-universe justification for it.)

We don't know Otto's digital artist merit because we never see him make any digital art. All of his art is solely non-digital. On Chase's side of things, she lives in an era where digital drawing is, like in real life, the norm. It's a contrast that might be one of the more glaring ones when it comes to comparing these two shows.

Now, as for the "creating animated re-enactments" schtick...if that isn't an excuse for Sinking Ship to work their animation magic after the Sandy Cheeks movie, then I honestly don't know what is. If you wanted to make the show animated, you could have made it animated. Would've been cheaper, too!

(And "Word Mysteries"...it's not as grating as Wild Kratts's "Wow Fact", but it's edging pretty close. I blame WNET. That's solely a PBS thing right there. TVO Kids would never.)

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So we've gotten the discussion about the two main characters out of the way. Now we can dive into the heartier meat. The kind where's it's purple on the inside but you still digest it anyway.

I'm talking, of course, about the sample scripts- script. Singular. There is one script. Uno.

Now, lemme give you a bit of a rundown: casting calls for Odd Squad -- really, most shows, but this is a blog about Odd Squad -- often come with sample scripts. This is so talents can read their parts aloud for the camera and have the tape submitted to the casting agency for consideration. Odd Squad in particular has had quite an interesting ride with sample scripts, from entire episode plots being adapted into final products (with a bit of tweaking) to characters having names different than what they're named in the final product (which is the case with both Sly and Gabby). They're nothing on the scale of ABC Me dropping episodes earlier than PBS or shorts getting dropped as an alleged April Fools prank, but they're pretty damn good crumbs to chew on.

The sample script starts out with Sage and Chase on, of course, a video call. (Sinking Ship made a Zoom reference once. Pray they do not make another by the name of a friendly drug called "Speed" or that term for peeing known as a "Whiz".) Chase explains that she just gave her office chair's wheels a tune-up, which, of course, makes her hungry. Hungry enough that she declares a "cookie break" and immediately takes out a ginormous cookie from hammerspace that just made the European bakery down the street from me start sobbing. (Look, they make good cookies. Giant cookies. Cookies I need two hands just to hold properly. Trust me, it's- it's massive.)

However, when she bites into the cookie, she finds that it tastes absolutely gross -- "not sweet, not even sour". While she ponders if her body has forcefully rejected one of the best sweet treats known to humankind, Sage begins to grow suspicious and asks if it's a Word Mystery they need to solve.

Which is, coincidentally enough, when the Main Street Baker calls in a fit of hysteria, explaining that their "delicious donuts" are gone. And because we can't take enough from Odd Squad, we get a bit of "literal humor" in the form of the donuts both being delicious (probably) and them spelling the word "delicious" prior to their disappearance. After Sage explains what "delicious" means as well as what synonyms are, it's shown that the culprit also struck other pastries, up to and including gingerbread people, which Sage absolutely takes personally because he's a kid of pure culture who gives a big "fuck you" to holiday-specific treats being enjoyed only during said holidays.

Chase, in true Otto fashion, decides to take more bites of her cookie and instantly regrets it. Sage, in true...well...Clint Eastwood fashion (I shit you not, that's literally what it says in the script), declares that they need to find the word "delicious" and fix the pastries.

And...yeah, that's about it. Like I said, there's really not much to go on with casting call sample scripts. Especially not ones from Larissa Mair.

My conclusive thoughts on it, you ask? Well...they can try to hide it, but all it's doing is enforcing my point. From the Main Street Baker having donuts missing similar to how the Town Baker had bagels missing in "Soundcheck", to Chase being an idiot who is obsessed with food the same way Otto is (right down to his willingness to drink Odd Todd's pickle juice when it tasted gross in "Bad Lemonade"!), even down to the "literal metaphor" kind of humor as it applies to singular words. Am I stretching? Perhaps. But these supposedly insignificant pieces are just part of the bigger picture, the larger issue at hand in this long-winded piece.

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The digital aspect of Wordsville is one of the ways they decided to put a twist on the precedent that Odd Squad set. And it's so blatant and in-your-face that it's on par with shoving a red flag in someone's eyes to blind them.

But here's the thing. The digital aspect been done. Amusingly enough, by the same company.

Lockdown is a show that fits right in with the others at the Shows-Made-During-the-COVID-Pandemic-About-the-COVID-Pandemic club. It was a way to capitalize on something in society that probably will never be relevant again until around 2050. Maybe even earlier than that, at the rate we're going.

I haven't seen it, so I can't speak much about it, but from my side of things it looks a lot like Unfriended if it took place during the pandemic and wasn't a horror movie and involved teens and not young adults/adults/I haven't seen the movie in many years bite me.

But the main difference between Lockdown and Wordsville, relevant to this editorial, is that Lockdown has a legitimate reason to be shot entirely on electronic devices. It's part of the plot. It works, I'm sure. For Wordsville, it makes no sense for the outline and isn't just limiting, but is downright insulting for something "rooted in the 21st century". It's good to be unique when making a show, but there's such a thing as trying too hard to be unique to the point where it's detrimental to your show's quality. Making the show be a digital-only angle isn't a smart move, especially for a detective procedural.

And if it's trying to differentiate itself from Odd Squad...well, do I got some bad news for you.

The show already did an entire Zoom parody in the span of an 11-minute episode.

And I still hate it with all the vitriol of an old woman who hates kids playing with beach balls in the yard pool. It sucks ass. It's entirely unneeded when you have three children sitting around the same table. I could vomit on you all day about it. But at least it's far more justified than Wordsville having its entire formula based on it. You can rip off a show without being limiting.

(don't. seriously. don't.)

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

Before we get to the conclusion, I need to dive deep into Odd Squad's own popularity and explain it a little more beyond just little "trust me bro" tidbits.

If you've been following it for as long as I have, then it's no secret that Odd Squad is one of Sinking Ship's cash-cow franchises. You've got the main series, six different spinoffs, a live show, a book...and I didn't even provide a whole damn list! Point being, it's huge. It doesn't have many roots in pop culture, but from a certain angle, it is an absolutely massive franchise that continues to grow, even in spite of its controversies.

Unlike works such as SpongeBob or Bluey, Odd Squad isn't popular enough to get bonafide ripoffs. The formula is relatively easy to copy, and if anything there are shows that have a similar premise but aren't even close to ripoff territory (K.C. Undercover, for example). It's just that, for all the ripoffs people have done of shows and movies over the years, the motivation for industry bigwigs in taking Odd Squad and running with it just...isn't there. I can connect it to Disney or Dreamworks or Viacom all I want, but at best they have a vague awareness of it that only goes as far as "oh, that's a thing, I guess". At worst, they see it as a pile of shit that would never turn a decent profit.

It could be argued that Sinking Ship wasn't all too well-known in the entertainment sphere up until Odd Squad came around. Looking at their resume doesn't show all too much in the way of what's popular. This is Daniel Cook, Roll Play, Playdate...they don't stick in your head, right? Yeah, none of them stick in my head either. Odd Squad was their first big hit for them, something that really helped them gain ground as a company. It's the one that's pretty much linked with Sinking Ship in news articles. Like husband and wife, but for the TV industry.

But to Hollywood bigwigs, that means about as much as finding a stick on the ground. I guaran-goddamn-tee Bob Iger is not going to put his grubby little hands on the funny kids math franchise and twist the hell out of it. The only way that's happening is if you run "Odd Squad, but make it Disney" through an AI generator. (Which, for the record, I have not done. You can't really replicate Odd Squad characters in animation without making them look like they walked out of yet another Law and Order spinoff that's far more kid-friendly.)

However, even with Odd Squad's varying popularity, there are shows that go just a little beyond having a similar premise to it but don't dive into ripoff territory. Sort of like a next step up.

A long time ago, a few friends and I in an Odd Squad Discord server were discussing the show Numberjacks. You know, that show that Jacknjellify may or may not have used as inspiration for Four's design? Yeah, that's the bitch.

The show has a few similarities to Odd Squad. You've got the focus on math, a system for exiting the couch headquarters that's similar to the tube system, and even the existence of kid agents and incredibly odd villains, one of which, need I remind you, Twitter tried to make into a sexyman for all of two days to varying degrees of success.

I will admit, I haven't seen Numberjacks in several years. In fact, the last time I saw it was when it was brought up as an Odd Squad ripoff. If I recall correctly, the episode that I picked to watch on a whim was "Seaside Adventure", wherein a few numbers take a vacation and trouble occurs. Or something like that. I really can't remember many details.

One thing I do remember, though, is distinctly thinking that I could see the Odd Squad similarities, but...it's not a ripoff. The series premiered in 2006. By that point, Tim McKeon and Adam Peltzman were off on their own ventures as they wrote for cartoons and other things. Thus, Odd Squad hadn't been birthed yet. If anything, Odd Squad took cues from Numberjacks, not the other way around -- but even with the existence of Odd Squad UK, we don't know that for sure. I don't even know how popular Numberjacks was in the UK. I'm a dumb lil' American, not a Daphne-Moon-esque English woman.

Since then, I haven't found anything that has come close to what Wordsville aims to accomplish. Granted, though, I have not looked very hard. I'm moreso keeping an eye on PBS to see if they're going to try and rip off Odd Squad rather than keeping an eye on any random B-lister studio. (And no, I'm not talking about WNET. They are a PBS station, but I'm referring to PBS as a whole entire network, not a sole affiliate.)

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

So the question remains: is Wordsville an Odd Squad ripoff?

Yes. On multiple counts. Right down to the name inspo. Guilty as charged. Right to jail.

From it being for the 4-7 demo not unlike Odd Squad's own 4-8 demo, to Sage and Chase being referred to as "Word Detectives" in lieu of "agents", to it being a detective procedural not unlike Odd Squad and its spinoffs, to the synopsis of the show being described as having "a case rooted in a vocabulary lesson" similar to Odd Squad having episodes rooted in STEM lessons, to it actively encouraging the audience to solve mysteries along with Sage and Chase...to Sage and Chase having alliterative theme naming...

Yeah, safe to say, we've got ourselves a ripoff.

There's no denying that Odd Squad is a fantastic franchise. Even through all of its issues, including financial controversies, heavy criticism, and mistreatment from PBS, it has remained strong for nearly 10 years, and will stay strong for many more. Maybe one of these days, it will plant roots deeper into pop culture and become one hell of a phenomenon. We'll have to see.

But the fact that Sinking Ship Entertainment has to resort to borrowing a concept that is unique in its nature, a concept that has already been done, a concept that has been given life and creativity by the people who birthed it, and then try to pass it off as its own original IP is not a good look on them. It's been done similarly before with their other big franchise, Dino Dan -- key word being "similarly" because it's one show and three spinoffs focusing on different characters. That isn't the case with Wordsville, though.

Put it this way: it's a company ripping off not someone else's IP, like many other companies have done and continue to do. It's a company ripping off their own IP.

And really, it doesn't matter how it's done. Stealing is stealing. At the end of the day, all it shows is a complete lack of creativity and a complete craving for the almighty dollar. More so if it's a company stealing from themselves and passing it along as okay.

In spite of this, however, I am perfectly willing to give Wordsville a shot when it comes out. Not so much to see if it's good (though my curiosity is piqued), and definitely not to hate-watch (which has the opposite intended effect on a show or movie), but to see just how far Sinking Ship is willing to push the envelope in affirming viewers and industry buddies alike that this is not, by any and all accounts, a copy of Odd Squad. I want to spot similarities. I want to take whiskey shots until I can do a zoom-zoom to a hospital and then ask if they've got a bottle on board the rig. I want to give a full, I-watched-this-show-now-here-are-my-overall-final-thoughts addendum on the entire issue.

As of now, Wordsville has no narrow timeframe. All I know is that it's releasing this year, likely on TVO Kids in Canada. Whether PBS as a whole will adopt it into its roster -- and if anything, it'll be WNET-exclusive, otherwise we would've heard something about it at the TCA Winter Press Tour a few days back -- for American audiences remains yet to be seen. Rest assured, though, that I'll be keeping an eye on it and rushing to it as soon as the first episode drops. After that, I'll give a proper addendum so I can finally put this issue to bed. Along with myself. Revenge bedtime procrastination is a bitch.

Thanks for reading. This honestly started out as something silly, but then I became analytical. So you got a mix of both in this one. This may or may not be the norm. Day-by-day, y'know?

Seren out.

#seren speaks #odd squad pbs kids #odd squad #wordsville #sinking ship entertainment

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doubleddenden · 1 year

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Damn the more I hear about Velma the worst it gets. This saddens me because I've been watching Scooby since before I could talk :(

Mainly what I'm seeing is that someone has contempt for the series + their own ideas for their own incredibly generic show and rather than make something unique, they're just insulting an established series.

My biggest gripes so far:

1. How tf do you got a Scooby Doo show without Scooby Doo? Is he too kiddy for your generic ugly adult cartoon?

2. Shaggy- oh sorry, NORVILLE. Look, I have no problem with the race thing- my literal main issue is that he's called SHAGGY for a reason. How hard is it to give him thick hair? On top of that they make him an actual druggie- let's pretend there's not some subtle racism behind making the perceived 'stoner' of the group black- it's boring. Yes yes we know the gang is a bunch of stoners, but isn't it funnier when it's just IMPLIED? Isn't it funnier that a man just REALLY FUCKING LOVES DOG TREATS and is willing to risk his life on a regular basis for god damn DOG TREATS? Instead they just turn him into yet another Seth Rogan tier predictable disappointment

3. The overall mischaracterization from what I'm seeing just... sucks, and again, I think part of that comes from a contempt for the series. You don't have to make the characters assholes to make them likeable! I know Rick and Morty and Seth McFarland have poisoned the well for a lot of people but you really don't!

Across the franchise there's plenty of fun ways to interpret the characters:

Fred: himbo that loves his friends, dad friend barely holding it together, obsessed with traps- take your pick, none of these are spoiled boring asshole rich kid.

Daphne: if you're opposed to damsel in distress, how about the cool martial artist fashionista made prevalent in the What's New Scooby Doo series or the live action movies? What about being a good reporter? Hell, even her goofy dorky self in Be Cool Scooby Doo is better than the stereotypical snooty popular girl. Props at least for keeping the red hair.

"Norville" is not a self friend zoning beta male and he's not really obsessed with drugs. Literally the man across DECADES of this franchise is ridiculously talented. Ventriloquism, improv acting, gymnast and athlete- seriously, why do you think they have him and the dog constantly running away from monsters and leading them into traps? The man was literally so good at that that he became a COACH. for MONSTERS. Let's also not forget that he was a race car driver! And had a hot girlfriend! In fact, fuck this friend zoned beta male shit- Shaggy literally pulls more girls (and men I think) in the entire franchise than the others COMBINED. If anything he should have dense harem protagonist energy. I'm talking more than Velma, dude also pulled her LITTLE SISTER- and she was okay with it because she knows he's a good guy(mind the AUs)! Pulled a girl that was kinda a monster fucker for him specifically when he was a werewolf, an actual fucking alien, several foreign girls of various nationalities, several average girls, a crazy but hot redneck girl that tried to SCHWOOSCH his bones after seeing the red shirt ONCE, pretty sure he did something good for Daphne to hang out with him for so long with just a bunch of dogs and a random kid they picked up, very sure actual monsters fell for him- and he's a nerd! He and his beloved best friend the talking dog are massive nerds! I reckon people still latch onto that and think he's the stereotypical nerd but no, no, Shaggy has so much going for him! Not to mention- not to mention! Animal lover! Doy! How do you miss that? He's always paired with the animals! The man is a collective family friend of the entire Doo clan! Every time there's a guest appearance with a non human entity, he's hanging out with them!

Velma... alright look. I'm about to say something real controversial. Real controversial. You ready? She is kinda boring and bland. She's smart and a good investigator, but really? This is who you base the show on? Recently she was allowed to be bisexual- that's great! She's well read, well informed, and if you want to skip the bitchy "its me or the dog" persona from Mystery Inc or the snooty geek from Be Cool, you could fall back to the quiet but cute and thoughtful personality she had in A Pup Named Scooby Doo. If not, she's just boring. I feel like most of the hype for her comes from memes or the people that think they're unique for finding her more attractive than Daphne (you're not btw). Like what does she do that the others cannot do? I'm pretty sure Daphne can do her job but without the min max on intelligence and some points in kicking ass. In fact, why are Fred and Daphne the assholes when Velma in TWO separate series has been the judgey bitch and overall asshole? If anything she should would fit the perfect "beta incel self perceived victim that's actually just a massive douche" trope!

And Scooby. First off fuck the writers for not including my boi. Second, you really couldn't make an adult comedy of a talking dog? If Scooby said fuck- scuze me, 'ruck'- I'd cry laughing! If Scooby was the druggie and Shaggy was normal, that'd be hilarious! Literally if they took every negative trait they forced onto the others and put it onto Scooby, you'd literally have a prime adult cartoon character right there. He's a gag character! Utilize it! I know in the recent series he's been pushed to the side for the others, but he's literally a comedic gold mine waiting to happen! Make him an arsonist! Make him have questionable opinions! It'd be hilarious because he's a literal dog that can't speak understandably half the time!

Look, if you want to make an "adult scooby doo" then I guess I can't stop you. Velma ain't how you do it though.

Btw before anyone jumps on me to defend the new show, the creator of the series supports JKR soooo

#velma #scooby doo

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ddymarie · 11 months

Text

AGAPE

Introduction

" Ahhh, could you believe it?! We're in high school now" said the joyful pink girl to your left shaking you back and forth

That was your best friend Mina.

You've known Mina since the 7th grade. You were the new girl in middle school at the time shy and quiet but defensive just as you are now still. Mina Ashido was one of the first to introduce herself. One sleepover was all it took make you inseparable.

" U.A to be exact. " said the red head to your left flexing his muscular

That was Ejiro Kirishima. Your other best friend. He was your first crush in middle school. But you assumed you weren't really his type and grew outta it. You began to talk to him more after that

Together you three were the ultimate trio

" guys, guys listen, chill out. Yes this is fun it's a big school new friends new first times it all exciting but our future-"

" BOO! Y/N enough of the future talk, live in the moment. " Mina said while her arm wrapped around your shoulder.

A big wave of anxiety washed over you as you walked through the big doors. A lot of older kids. Adults. A bunch on lockers.

'Geez it's bright' I thought looking out at the windows to my left.

'1-A'

The three of you walked up to the sign and sighed

Mina squeezed your hand tightly before letting go and rushing into the room.

Eijiro stuck beside you though.

" together? " he said looking down at me hands in his uniforms pockets

" y-yeah, sure " I said

Opening the door I walked in first. him behind me.

I stopped dead in my tracks. The class room was loud. Really loud. I was shocked looking at the sight in front of me.

Mina stood in the back of the class room surrounded by students

" looks like she already made friends " I said standing in front of the class room with ei

Mina was break dancing...

" Go! go! go! " kids shouted

" Hey! Those are my friends! " the girl shouted

Oh no...

Oh no, no no no. Mina you did not!

Ei started walking toward the crowd and they cheered.

" dude you got some sick as muscles man " said a boy with yellow hair

Denki kaminari.

Then there was ei. Showing off. Flexing.

"This school gonna gas his head up" I assumed.

The bell had rung and class had begun.

" alright settle down " a man with long black hair entered the room.

" I am shouta aizawa. But to you Mr. Aizawa " he introduced himself to us.

The class settled down and got quiet

"Welcome to U. A. This year you will began your journey to becoming hero's yay! " Mr. Aizawa said with no enthusiasm at ALL.

" for our first lesson we will be heading outside"

-outside*

" well to explain this bluntly for the air heads in the field. This test will see how far you can throw ball using your quirk. Up not down. Anything below the clouds will give you a zero. Understood? "

" Yes, Mr" some of us said

"Pretty harsh isn't he? " I said turning to my new friend midoryia izuku

" it'll all pay off in the end " he reassured

"Alright first up .... You" he pointed to the now red midoryia

" i-i-i " he stammered and froze up

Just then he fell on his knees. He was pushed.

A laugh was heard from behind us...

As he was being helped up I turned to look at the culprit who laughed

" excuse you?! " I said " that was rude. How could you push him? " I said looking at the blond behind me he did nothing but side eye me " shut the fuck up, and mind ya business " he said sternly.

I had no words for this disrespect and turned away checking on the victim

" are you okay? " I asked

" yes I'm well Kacchan is a close friend of mine. I don't pay any mind to his actions anymore " the boy defended

" friends dont hit each other, I would've made Mina- or anyone apologize " I said

" I assure you it's okay " he said with a bright smile on his face as he dusted his knees. walking to the small base ball plate

I stood back in my spot looking behind me at the boy who looked away from me immediately wiping a small smile off his face.

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞ ∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

New series

'Agape'

Requested *

For Tag list comment below

Tag list:

@archer-fb

#bnha x you #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo smut #bakugo x black reader #mha smut #katsuki smut #bakugou smut

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hyp-no-tic · 4 days

Text

GMMTV 2024 PART 2 - BINGO

For the upcoming event on April 23rd (which I'm not going to be able to watch live 😭😭😭)

I was quite pleased with part 1 🌈🥰 And let's be real, I've got no time to make another bingo card for part 2 so here's what's left of my first card!

Thanks again to @icouldhyperfixatehim for creating this awesome bingo card.

Things I’m fairly sure we’re getting:

Firstkhao series (pretty much confirmed)

Mark fucking Pakin KISSING (it looks like we're getting MarkOhm??)

(And that's it since I've had no time to snoop on social media recently and anyway I looove to be surprised)

And yes I'm aware we're not getting a Fluke Pusit main role since my man moved on from GMMTV since then (to get himself his own main role: bravo!!)

Things I would really like to see:

P'Jojo said somewhere that he’d like to do a domestic cutesy BL, please give the man what he wants. As a general rule, GMMTV should just let Jojo do whatever Jojo wants to do, period.

P’Aof once said in a interview that he would like to work with actors he hasn’t work with yet and that among gmmtv he hadn’t had the chance to work with Gun (or Krist) soooooooooo this could be the year is what I’m saying.

PLEASE give me something by the BMF production team (P'Waa Waasuthep, who also directed The Gifted) because Be My Favorite is definitely one of my favorite series, it was perfect.

Another more politically oriented drama (à la The Eclipse, Not Me)

Since remakes are in right now, you know what I would love a Thai take on? Color Rush! I really liked this KBL, it had SUCH an interesting premise but… *sigh* it was way too short to be impactful imo (the vibe of the show though omg). (P'Nuchy? P'Golf?)

More trans characters with great supporting roles/strong storylines, more non-binary characters

More QUEER ELDERS!! Different generations of queer interacting (ex: the gay uncles in My Ride the series, they were EVERYTHING)

Already completed in Part 1 :

EARTHMIX: Ossan's Love TH

ADULT LIFE BL (post uni): The Trainee, Peaceful Property, Ossan's Love TH, Wandee Goodday, hell I'll put Pluto in it too!

GEMINIFOURTH: My Love Mix-Up!

OFFGUN and TAYNEW: separately but whatever it counts (and anyway it was a wishful dream)

NEO SERIOUS ROLE: Am I splitting hair? Who's knows? But it does not look like he's playing a clown in My Golden Blood, gimme baseball bat!Neo

1 GL NEW SHIP: Pluto (plus several side couples!!)

MAGICAL REALISM BL: My Golden Blood's more supernatural but saaaaaaaaame

NEW WTF SHIP: JossGawin + NamtanFilm

GAWIN CASKEY MAIN ROLE: My Golden Blood

WINNYSATANG + AOUBOOM + ENSEMBLE BL CAST: We Are the series

#gmmtv 2024 #gmmtv 2024 part 2 #thai bl #bl drama #firstkhao #bingo #gmmtv #wishlist

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chelleztjs18 · 2 years

Text

This One Is Mine Pt. 3 (N.R)

Billionaire Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: As a billionaire and a successful business woman, Natasha has everything and lives her lavish life with her bestfriends. What will happen when Natasha wants you but Wanda gets in between?

Warning: Dark fic 18+, bunch of sexual tensions, swearing words, drug use, alcohol consumptions. (Let me know if I miss anything)

A/n: Hello! Welcome to part 3! As if for now, I consider this short series is "done". I might write next part of this story in the future, I might not. But if I decide to write, I will announce it in prior. I'm sorry if I miss any name to be tagged. If I do, please remind me again. So, I hope you enjoy this piece! Happy reading!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

As soon as you are out of the restroom, your eyes struggle with the aggressive blinking light that matches with the intro of "Hit It" by Young Skrrt.

You followed Natasha’s steps. Both of you are passing through the dancing people who seem to be more wired up than earlier. The later the night, the club gets way more alive by now. It feels like you are figuring your way out of the labyrinth of human walls.

You start to feel hazy. The more you move, the hazier you feel. All your senses are more aware of everything.

Natasha finally stops at the small bar that specially only makes Natasha's and her friend's order. You notice that you are closer to where she sat with Wanda and the others. She pulls you so tight to her. One of her hands gets on your back.

“Oh my god! Kate, look! Is that y/n with Natasha??” MJ exclaims as she pulls Kate to her so she will see you.

Kate drunkenly laughs. “Yes! That’s her with the one and only Natasha Romanoff.” She casually answers MJ’s question. “Should we go there, just to make sure she is okay?” MJ asks in concern.

“Nah, she’s good. She’s an adult. Besides, she needs this.” Kate adds and takes another shot of drink.

The bass of "Satisfaction" by David Guetta, Benny Benassi thumps in your heart and your head. The bass shakes your body. The club feels louder yet you hear everything sounds almost like you are under water every now and then.

Natasha pins you to the bar, your back touches the counter. You gasp. She looks at you in awe. You know the drug is kicking in both of you.

"So, still not gonna tell me what's your name?" She asks curiously. Your elbows prompt your body. "I thought my name is your good girl?" You answer her with a question. You look at her, the fast blinking light and the smoke in the air sometimes makes you see everything is black and white but she is still as pretty as a picture.

"Yes, it is. My good girl." As soon as the last words slipped out, Natasha leaned on you, unwrapping you slowly. Unbutton one of your shirt's buttons and another, some more of you showing. Despites the loudness around, you still can hear how beautiful her voice is and it is so tempting.

Her head leans lower to you. She showers you with soft small kisses all over your chest. Your hands tucks her hair a little to show her how much you like her kisses on your chest. She feels your chest rise and fall with rapid breath. She raises her head up and she looks at you with clenched jaws. As much as she wants to devour you now, she tries not to do so. She loves hearing you beg like you did earlier. She wants you to fall apart in front of her all over again, helplessly.

Both of your hands cup her cheeks, eye contacts are locked between you two. Your heart is beating like crazy. You feel like your fucking head is full of dynamite. “Hundreds of people in this place and here you are.” You tease her with your words as you bend up your right leg and she can feel it rubs the side of her body. Her left hand quickly holds your leg by your exposed thigh, her nails digs into your skin. You bit your lower lips, loving the feelings of it.

“Yes, now I got you here. Come to my place and let’s get undressed because you look a little lonely.” Her dominance has shown up again. You chuckle with confidence you got from the substance.

“What are you going to do after that so I won’t be lonely?” You ask with a smirk, your eyes bouncing around her face, adoring every inch of her look. As you ask, your hands get under her black satin top. Her abdomen muscles flinch so subtly once she feels you touch her.

How you tease her starts to frustrate Natasha. She has lost her self control playing along with your hard to get game. Little do both of you know, everything that’s happening now derails Wanda off her track of patience. Heat pooled in her.

Wanda sees Natasha’s hand let go of your leg and quickly finds its way to your heated center. She pushes aside your underwear shortly before her finger slides up then goes down slowly along your folds. Your breath hitched. She speaks close to your ear. “I’ll make you scream —” She pauses her words when she hears you moan a little. Your flesh tingled. “I’ll make you laugh and cover your body with my autographs.” She teases as her finger brushes your clit gently, just enough to make you hug her closer. Your hands move to her back under her top. Her face has once again found your neck.

You fall apart just like how she wants it and you answer with a breathy voice. “I don’t want your autographs, I want your bite marks all over me.” You didn’t have to wait too long to feel her love bite. Natasha bites you hard enough to make you feel breathless and you run your nails along her back.

She leans back a little bit to see your face. Her lips get closer and closer to catch yours in a kiss but to her surprise, you turn your head a little bit and kiss you cheek instead then you wink at her.

You try to stand up properly so you can grind more on her finger, as you lean to kiss her neck and give a quick lick.

Her finger circling your clit a little more and your nails dig deeper on her back.

You pull yourself back away, looking at her with such lust. "Fuck.. Why are you so irresistible?" You moan, enjoying the work of her finger on you. Nat pulls her hand away, she knows that you are under her control now. Natasha brings her hand close to her face. As she is about to suck on her finger, she feels a familiar hand pull her hand away from her face. Both of you turn your head and see Wanda quickly sucks your juice off of the best friend's finger.

“Hmm she tastes so good, Nat.” Wanda comments after she pulls Nat’s finger out of her mouth. The brunette looks at the redhead with a sensual gaze as she smirks. Your eyebrows jump up on your forehead from the view that you just saw and it weakens your knees. Two enticing women are right in front of you.

“Wanda, what are you doing here?” Natasha asks her in annoyance.

“I’m here to get my chance that you promised me, to check her out, Nat. But you have her all for yourself instead. That doesn't seem fair.” Wanda answers, then kisses Natasha’s lips, letting her taste you off her lips.

The Russian billionaire is not amused. The kiss feels like Wanda mocking her that she got to taste you before her. Her eyes watch Wanda sharply who gets closer and whispers to her ears.

“Come on, Natty. I have been good enough for you. Let me feel her, taste her, and touch her. I promise, we will give you a good show.” As much as Natasha wants to have you for herself but Wanda’s words and tone sounds so tempting for her. “Fine.” The only word that Wanda got from her.

The alcohol and the drugs get into your blood deeper. Your head starts to spin more in eight different ways. You feel as if you are out of your skin. You can feel the rush in your blood. Beads of sweat start to form a little on your forehead.

Right now, you hear nothing except the beat that never ends. Your mind wonders about anything you can remember. You hear some girls talking, sounds like a fucking white noise in your head. The lights aggressively change colors and the brightness. You see everything is bending. The smoke roaming free above you. You see that people jump up and down slowly and fast at the same time as if they are having a glitch. The optical illusion on the giant screens earlier messes your vision worse. The human size bird cage looks like they are swinging or perhaps, floating? You don’t know and don’t even want to know.

Despite all those tricky views the powdered stimulant gives you through your mind, Natasha is the only focus in your lens even though she looks so far away from you but she is not. You recognize Wanda and wonder what the hell she is doing here. Where the fuck are MJ and Kate?

Natasha’s finger runs around your chest just like a figure skating glides freely on the ice. Her finger sometimes goes under that’s covered by your blouse. You get goosebumps just from her light touch.

As soon as you want to take a step closer to Natasha, Wanda holds your jaw to turn your head to her. “Hello, sweetheart. You look prettier when I see you this close.” That is exactly what you think about Natasha and Wanda. The way these two women effortlessly make you needy for them is beyond your comprehension. Both of them are so impeccable.

“Drink this. It will help you to cut the edge and make you feel better for your next one.” The brunette brings up a glass of the drink with absinthe in it. You innocently do what she told you and chug it all.

The bass echo forces its way to your ear and like a sledgehammer it hits your chest as Such A Whore (Stellular Remix) by JVLA plays.

You swallow hard. “Wanda Maximoff?” You ask in a confused tone yet needy. The brunette gets behind you after she releases her tight grip off your jaw. You can feel her front pressing your back. Natasha’s touch and Wanda’s breasts pressing against you, lead you to subtly move your body so you can get more of the feelings. Lust blindsided you. Wanda untuck the front of your blouse out of your skirt.

“Yes, little one? Having fun with what you tried earlier?” It’s easy for Wanda to figure out what happened to you. You helplessly nod. Her right hand lands on your stomach, you hear her breathing. “You are so soft, smell good and taste good.” Her hand slowly slides up just right under your bra line under your blouse. As a reflex of how sensitive you are with touches now, your hand quickly grabs her hand.

“Stay still, Malyshka.” Wanda tells you. “Let her hand go.” Natasha orders you. Like a good puppy, you follow their words. “Good girl.” You hear the compliments sound so good in Natasha’s voice.

Your right hand grabs the back of Natasha’s neck while your left hand mindlessly searches for Wanda’s leg. Somehow you remember the slit of her dress that shows her thigh generously. The second you land your hand on her thigh, your nails slide up your hand to the slit and send heat up to Wanda’s pussy. While the redhead touches your clothed core.

“My oh my, she is a good girl and obedient too. She is such a whore, Natty.” Her degrading name for you has the same effect with Natasha’s praises. “Do not corrupt her, Wands.” a warning floats out of Natasha.

“Oh, I’m sure you know how she is. I can make her a better whore for you if you share her with me. Look at her.” Wanda nonchalantly responds to her best friend as her left hand tucks your head to the left and exposes your neck to both of them. Your hand slowly slides down and away from Natasha.

Wanda pours a line of powdered substance along your neck to the crook of it. Without waiting any second, she snorts all of them then licks the residue off right away as her hand slides down to your core.

“Poor, little thing. You are so wet. Do you like getting in between Natasha and I? So desperate.”

You eagerly and rapidly nod an answer to her.

With both of their hands on your throbbing bud and how turn on you are, your desire pops a quick initiative thought. You reach back to Wanda's pussy, touching it through her lingerie. Wanda kisses your ear and nibbles your earlobe as she moans a little.

Natasha smirks in pride. “Smart girl. Pull your hand out now.” Natasha demands in a more dominant tone. Your hand left her center. She pulls your hand up and pour more of the white heavenly sin powder into the space of your nail.

You don’t need her command, you already know what she wants you to do. You inhale them off your nails. The burning and numbing sensation is now more enjoyable for you. Wanda’s scent makes it even better for you but soon Natasha pulls your hand to her and suck your finger for a few seconds.

You feel light as a feather. It feels like you just got a shot of sedative and shots of caffeine all at once. Everything moves fast and slow at the same time. Your heart beats irregularly by now. Natasha and Wanda are like anchors that pull you down from floating up so you can have more pleasure that has been waiting for you.

Your eyes are wide open forcing itself to adapt with the lights and the spinning your mind does. Then you focus on the quintessential woman in front of you. Natasha leans to you closer and closer but this time she takes her turn to tease you. By the time you thought she was going to kiss you, she shifted a little to the side of your face and kissed Wanda.

You move your head a little bit to the side so you can have more view when you turn your head to see the unforgettable and tempting field of vision. Fucking hell, two exquisite women are kissing less than an inch away from your face. This makes both of them more interesting for you, especially Natasha.

The blink of the lights makes it easier to see every now and then. Natasha even wraps her hand around Wanda’s jaws down to her throat as well. Wanda’s hand slides up to your breast and the other goes to your throat as she is sinking in a passionate kiss with Natasha. Oh for heaven sake, you ached for Nat. You want her lips to catch yours, her tongue gets tangled with yours, and her grips get harder around your throat. What Wanda is doing to you also makes your body throb. You want Natasha but you would do anything for both of them. Kneeling under them, worshiping them. You would let both of them use you for their pleasure. Your hand desperately reaches the collar of her jacket suit.

Natasha notices how needy you are and she stops the kiss. She looks at you then to Wanda. “Let her go, Wanda. You can go to Vision. I think he found tonight's toy for both of you."

Wanda follows the direction where Nat is looking at, she finds Vision is kissing with a different woman from earlier on the dance floor.

"But Natty, why? I'm not done with her yet." Wanda lets out another whiny tone as her answer.

"Because I SAID so. You are done here, Wands." Natasha's stern and dominant tone leaves Wanda no room to argue and with that the aroused brunette step away from both of you.

Natasha quickly pulls your body close to her and grabs your butt cheeks then squeezes them. You wrap both of your hands and reach the back of her neck.

"Please take me with you. Let's get undressed because I want to see you naked." You beg her. Both of your faces almost have no gaps between each other. She feels your breath and smells the alcohol from you.

"Really? Remember, I'm the one who is in charge." Her answer makes your knees weak. Her jade eyes make your heart skitter. Your gaze bounces around from her eyes to her lips then back to her eyes. You lick your lower lips and your eyes can't help themselves to look back at her lips.

For the third time tonight. Her face smoothly and slowly decreases the gap to you. She subtly parts her lips, so do you. Fuck it, that was the only two words in your mind as you eagerly let her have her way to kiss you.

Unfortunately, the second Natasha almost kisses you, something interrupts. The music stops and the DJ talks on the mic. Both you and Natasha got distracted.

Without any warning, the lights moved to spot you and alarmed you. Instantly, drag you out of your under influence state. You pull your hands off Natasha quickly and try to secretly take a step away from her but you fail miserably. "Alright, people! Let me have your attention! Tonight, we have a bride to be here!!” People start to cheer then the DJ continues his words. Your eyes automatically look for your friends. You spot them and you can see that they are cheering drunkenly.

“Ms. Y/n, congratulations! Wish everything the best and I can see that you will be a very very beautiful bride! A round for you and your friends from me! Cheers on your bachelorette night!” People raise their drink for you. You raise one of your hands and smile then thank them. Embarrassment stirred in you actually.

The DJ never did this before but Boris told him that MJ and Kate can do whatever they want.

The lights hide right away, bring the dark back just like how it was a minute ago. What just happened shocks you like a firework blows right above you. Like it or not, it slaps you back to reality. The reality that you are soon to be married. Not going to lie, you hate the interruption. As much as you wanted the kiss to happen or Natasha to take you away with her, you shouldn’t do this. Your fiance, he is waiting for you at home. Wait, are you having cold feet about your upcoming wedding because of Natasha or perhaps you have been having this doubt way before all this?

“So much for being lowkey.” You mumble under your breath. “Darling,are you okay?” Natasha’s voice pulled you from the daze. You blink rapidly a few times, hoping that it will help you to sober up.

You look at her for a few seconds, admiring her for the last time. “I’m sorry, I gotta go.” Your steps are as heavy as your heart, with that you left her as fast as you can.

Natasha let you leave because she knows that she can and she will find you. “Wow, she is getting married. But that’s NOT a problem at all for me. What are you going to do about it?” Wanda comments jokingly with a little pinch of seriousness. The Sokovian watched everything. She never left both of you too far after Nat told her to leave.

“Oh I’ll find her.” Natasha’s answer is filled with such confidence. Of course it is. She won’t let you walk out of her life that easily. She likes you and she knows that you like her too. She wants more than just a casual hook up with you and Natasha Romanoff always gets what she wants, no matter what.

On the other hand, Wanda is also planning to work her way to claim you as hers even if it will cost her friendship with Natasha.

With a smirk, Wanda internally says the same exact thing the redhead said earlier to her.

“This one is mine.”

A/n: Welp, that's a wrap! Let me know what you think! Your reblog and comments are always appreciated! Follow me for more. See you in next!

Cheerio!

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