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pisoprano · 7 months

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This is an ML salt post, particularly about Lila Rossi. If you are actually excited about Lila being the main villain in future season(s), this post isn't for you, I just need to rant. A lot.

I hate Lila Rossi. I hate her with a burning passion. Literally every episode where she shows up, my hatred for this character will manifest in me saying "I hate her" the moment she opens her mouth, followed by seething throughout every moment she spends onscreen.

In prior seasons, this wasn't much of an issue--she'd show up for a couple episodes and then she'd disappear 90% of the time, so I could usually just focus on literally anything else in the show. With season 5, however, she started showing up much more. I knew it was coming, of course--the foreshadowing that she would be the successor to Hawkmoth has been visible since season 3, and it was announced that he'd be gone after this season. But if the show had ended at season 5 as originally intended, butterfly!Lila could have been a theoretical problem for adult!Ladybug and adult!Chat Noir in 10 years. But since the powers that be have decided to have the show continue past Gabriel Agreste, Lila is a problem now and will be a problem at least until Chris Lahiffe is a teenage boy, if "Timetagger" is any indication. And we, the audience, will be forced to suffer through all of it.

Why, though, do I hate the idea of Lila being the main villain? I was fine with having Gabriel in the villain seat for five seasons despite him being a terrible father and manipulative git, after all. With Gabriel, there was a particular humanity to him that made him interesting--this entire show is about love and Gabe's love was so overwhelming and myopic and self-serving that he resorted to villainy while convincing himself that he was secretly the hero all along, sacrificing everything (even his morality) for the woman he loved. He used his love as an excuse to justify the harm he caused Paris and his very own son. As he continually reached for forbidden means to get what he wanted, his dreams ballooned in scope--he'd defied the odds when he'd married above his station, he'd defied the odds when he'd become a world-renowned designer, he'd defied the odds when he found the miraculous and created the perfect son--and so it became all too natural for him to fight the impossible fight as Hawkmoth because he deserved to win this too. And the whole time, unbeknownst to either of them, he's fighting against the son who he's been neglecting and controlling in his fight to save someone who never wanted to be saved? That stuff is fascinating.

Lila, though? She's got none of that complexity. She's a consummate liar who hates the protagonists and literally nothing else. In other shows, she'd be the transfer student who shows up for an episode, gets exposed as a fraud by the end of that episode, and then literally never be seen again. This show, however, has Lila overstay the welcome that her character archetype is built for and instead be a recurring problem. And, because a liar can only get away with lying if the surrounding characters don't know she's lying, Lila is made untouchable by the plot. Other villainous characters have some plot immunity to their evilness--Chloe, obviously, has the automatic win condition of demanding her father to get her out of trouble whenever she wants. But Lila's plot immunity comes from an inexplicable ability to manipulate everyone around her (besides our main protagonists, who are forced to only cry wolf). She makes all the supporting cast love her without help, she does so even to characters we'd expect to know better. When she first showed up, her lies weren't even good and still she gets away with her reputation in tact basically every time. The one time where she does get exposed to everyone, she gets to have an easy redo by making up a completely new identity to try again. She's a Villain Sue. And her very presence weakens the story she's in.

Lila only exists because the writers decided to make an absolute hate sink. They absolutely succeeded in doing so. And frankly, that's a problem. Most of the time, if you're going to have a character in a show for any length of time, they should be likeable on some level. They could be sympathetic or competent or proactive or even just have a personality that's fun to watch, but the audience shouldn't feel like the character is a waste of viewing time. Lila isn't someone the audience can identify with, her competence is largely in name only (I will allow that her manipulative skills during season 5 are stronger, but her ludicrously bad prior lying and the unexplained nature of her sudden hypercompetence now aren't nearly enough to make me forgive her here). Lila's sometimes doing things behind the scenes, sure, but she has the laughably petty objectives of "be famous" and "ruin classmate's life" and I cannot take her actions towards achieving these goals seriously as a bit villain, let alone a primary antagonist. And--worst of all--her voice is extremely annoying. I will suffer through a myriad of things, but I can only listen to nails on a chalkboard so long before need to leave the room.

And this might be a bit of a hot take, but honestly? I don't think Lila was even necessary in the first place. In episodes like "Volpina" or "Oni-Chan," she could have been replaced with Chloe (our original mean girl who's clingy with Adrien--she might not be my favorite character either, but at least she's funny). I'm positive that the plot of "Catalyst" and "Miraculer" could have been reworked to happen without Lila's involvement without much effort. The entire subplot of Lila being Adrien's modelling partner was more about Gabriel controlling his son--it could have been easily about forcing Adrien to be alone instead of forcing him to be with someone he didn't like. The fact that Lila shows up so little in the first four seasons just goes to prove how unnecessary she is. She only becomes important in season 5 because the writers now know that they need to prepare for a new supervillain to fill Gabriel's shoes after he leaves--and she's the only one who comes anywhere close to fitting. So, suddenly, she's being far more active than she ever was (almost half of her total appearances are in season 5 alone), but her motivations are less clear than ever, so I'm left assuming that this hollow character must still have the hollowest of motivations--popularity, power, getting back at the kids who rebuffed her... after having 5 seasons of truly delicious drama, why on earth would I want to turn the worst thing about those 5 seasons into main course?

I know I am far from being alone in hating Lila Rossi's character. There are literally thousands of fics tagged with "Lila's Lies Are Exposed" because so many readers want to see her be punished for her actions. I'm actually not really a fan of these--I don't take joy in seeing Lila being taken down. I want her to disappear from the narrative entirely. If the current state of United States politics has taught me anything, it's that that watching a terrible person get their comeuppance is never as satisfying as you think it will be because that terrible person will keep popping up and keep being terrible and keep forcing you to think about them. The best possible punishment I can think of for Lila is to act like she's just an OC made from some background character that never mattered in the first place--and then never have to think about her existence in the show again.

I was happy to watch the first 5 seasons of Miraculous Ladybug. I wish it had only been those 5 seasons (side note: Chat deserved to go up against his father in the final battle. I get that he couldn't since the mandate for more seasons requires the identities to be intact, but this was the point in the narrative when the reveal was meant to happen and it has weakened the story to move it elsewhere). I haven't decided to not watch season 6 at this point, but knowing who I will have to deal with in every episode? It's making it very difficult for me to want to continue any further.

#ml salt #lila rossi salt #miraculous ladybug #ml season 5 spoilers #late night post #ml critical #ml s5 finale discourse

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ask-epitale · 2 years

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Update on the comic

I was just thinking about making an update post yesterday, and getting an ask just solidified that thought.

(tl;dr, life was a mess, I’m not going to continue the comic for a while so it’s on a hiatus for who knows how long, and when I do return, i’m going to redo what currently exists of the comic before continuing officially. Asks will be turned off, use replies if you want more info)

I haven’t done much with the comic because I was dealing with depression without fully realizing it was depression. I finally got it diagnosed, so I’m working on it, but it’s still slow going. In the middle of making epitale, I was dealing with it, leading to weeks where I would post nothing. it was also not helped that at one point, my hard drive kicked the bucket, making me lose all my files, and then there was also an issue with the old hunk of junk i used until I got a new computer which caused a number of the layers to outright disappear (you can see this best with the comics in grillbys where we started on one side of the counter and moved to the other because i didn’t want to remake the old scene and not work right.)

I’ve seen a number of fan comics go the route of ‘hey, I don’t really want to work on this anymore, but here’s what would have happened’ and while this was half ask blog, half story comic blog, I don’t entirely want to do that. Sure, I’m going to give some details later in this post, but I’m not going to give the whole thing. Why? Well....

Making the comic with the stints of depression wasn’t so much I wasn’t doing art, more so, the comic felt less like something i wanted to do and more something that was expected, which made it feel forced sometimes. And then there was also the issue that since I was still doing art, my style evolved and I changed how I would draw things. (blob gaster into full skele gaster as an example). this made me less want to come back because I didn’t want to be changing style every page as well as the fact that the way I was doing it before wasn’t the best way, and even a single panel could take a while, or I would just alter the heads or hands slightly.

so all together, depression, art changes, complexity of art, fun, etc all made me not want to work on it. at least not publically. The other mods that were listed around here (mod bun, kiwi and bear) were all friends who sort of helped out with some of the ideas, but the story, blog running, art, etc was all mine (mod cat) one of the mods helped me the most with idea stuff, so much so that we have a full discord group we used for it, but it ended up evolving into stuff that’s... very non canon. I could potentially share tidbits from that eventually if anyone wants that, but I doubt that would happen. I’m going to turn asks off though, so turn to replies to request those.

as it currently stands, i have no clue when I would work on the comic again. that being said, when I do, I won’t be continuing the story. Not exactly. I won’t be deleting anything, just tagging them as old, but when I bring back the comic, I’m going to be... sort of restarting. I’m going to be redrawing the pages in an art style I can more easily do as well as fixing up things I’m no longer happy with (like how I draw undyne, and I might not redo the starting scene with sans and papyrus and the mod cat annoying dog substitute.)

One thing I will be slightly redoing is Dee, which i will just explain in a following post as when I first made them, I had a slightly different idea from what they are now (and what I have thought of them for a few years.

#epitale comic #epitale comic status #not a page

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nathank77 · 2 days

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4/28/24

6:32 a.m edited/added to

I gamed until like 4 a.m and I lost a 40 minute video that thank God I didn't save so I can redo it. I was online, sometimes I feel like I'm being sabotaged tbh.. but I'm not allowed to feel that way bc I have psychosis....

It's funny cause most of my best videos when I streamed on twitch would have, "muted audio," I'd have to appeal for copyright and other issues like disconnections and weird glitches. It's the reason I stopped streaming. It was a major problem and I lost many good videos bc of it.

And since I've been recording muted audio for copyright isn't an issue cause technically I can record American dad or something it would just need to be credited on YouTube.

Although I've been recording offline bc I feel like someone sabotages me. I forgot to go offline when i was recording that 40 minute video and bam the video disappeared. Funny how that works if I had saved I wouldn't be able to complete my chapter 5 playthrough of Bully bc it would have been missing 2 missions and I'm making videos chapter by chapter with all main and non-storyline missions complete.

I hate psychosis. I have to say it was just a mishap... but once I started recording offline I haven't had any issues.. I do feel sabotaged.

My trans channel is taking off. Getting hundreds of views a day and if one day that happens to my gaming channel I'll blow up with the quality of my content. Yet I can't believe that being online might be the reason.

I'm annoyed but at least I didn't save and can redo those two missions and piece together my whole playthrough of chapter 5.... I only have like 6 more missions before I can put it together and post the complete playthrough... I wish I could have finished it tonight.

Anyways, the shoes didn't fit any better but I still got to fuck with them a little but I might as well return them. I could use the money and loosening them doesn't seem to do anything...

Also do I believe elise is here? I can't bc of psychosis another reason i Hate it. I can't allow myself to be delusional at all. I need facts about everything..

Anyways- after I gave up on my video and decided to do it tomorrow, I changed all my, "made for kids," videos to adults as I lost that SH2 Maria video due to some uptight parent who reported it and I can't get it back. I have to remake it when I had 20 hours of view time on it... I'm not willing to risk losing any more videos to some stupid asshole of a parent. I work too hard on them between trying to be perfect and waiting hours to piece them together....

The only videos I left as made for kids was the minecraft video cause fuck it if someone reports it for some reason or another. It sucks cause made for kids can really get my views up but I can't lose another amazing video I make. I invested a good 10 hours in that Maria video and its fucking gone. I learned my lesson. Not to mention if I for example get one more community strike I'm not allowed to post any videos for a long time.

Anyways as I was adding tags to my new videos and changing my made for kids videos back to adults only, my hallucination was driving me fucking crazy. It was awful and tbh idk how much longer I can live like this.

If youre here Elise, I noticed something. When I tried to load your Instagram from my Mac it had that, "couldn't load page," thing.. then I tried from my phone and it was loading...

The night I thought you were deactivated as some sort of invitation, I checked many times on my Mac and then my phone. They both said couldn't load page.... and then when I made the post about it, 20 minutes later I could load your page.. so idk if I disrespected you...

I question everything, are you here? Did you really deactivate your account or was it something with safari/google/meta? I can't trust anything bc of psychosis. Until you reach out to me I'm going to write about you until I move on... and I'm going to have no idea if you're really here or not.

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sexyvampkitty · 1 year

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RP Mini-Solo 32: 'Big Ass Bird'

[Sarc gets a visit from a strange crow in the middle of the night. Please excuse any repetitions. Either that, or make a drinking game out of every time you see the word 'bird'. My bad. Heh. Mentions of @AtrociousSadist I originally posted this as a Starter a 'long' while back. I guess it got lost...or they never had time to respond. I was never quite happy with it anyway. Plus I have a bad habit of 'Godmodding'...and I didn't feel like deleting and redoing the Starter...so...I just decided to turn it into a solo instead. Wow. Longest intro 'ever'. Anyways...enjoy...or not. Heh.] I'm suddenly jolted awake by a sound...coming from inside my bedroom. Eyes half-closed...I wrack my muddled brain...trying to figure out what it is that I'm hearing. It sounds like...a bird? Blinking away sleep...I turn my head to glace at the clock on the bedside table. One o'clock in the morning. You've 'got' to be freaking kidding me. Wait. A...bird? That can't be right. I turn my head the other way...gaze focusing across the room. With my vampire vision...I can easily make out a bird...as black as nighttime itself...perched on the windowsill...making really loud and annoying bird noises. Yep. It looks like I was right the first time...which begs the question...what is it doing out now? Shouldn't it be like...sleeping or whatever? I lay back down...and shut my eyes again...hoping that my little unwelcome visitor will shut the Hell up...but...after a few long...drawn out minutes...it seems likely that prospect won't be happening anytime soon. I let out a frustrated growl...eyes snapping back open...and grab the nearest thing that I can find...an extra pillow...and toss it across the room...hoping to knock that damn bird right off of the windowsill. The pillow misses its target...unfortunately. The bird dodges it at the last second...and said pillow sails right out of the window...and down to the ground below. Damn. That was totally...disappointing. Although...now that the little bastard has been temporarily...distracted...it gives me time to vamp speed out of bed and over to the window...slamming it down and locking it...which I was pretty sure I'd done in the first place. Weird. The bird...which now looks 'huge'...now that I can see it close up...settles back down on the sill...now on the other side of the glass...locking it's beady little eyes with mine. Totally unbidden, a shudder passes through my body. Okay...that is one 'big' ass bird. What kind of a bird is that anyways? A raven? A crow? A combination of the two? If that's even a thing. Whatever. For what seems like forever...we both seem to be locked in some kind of weird staring contest. I manage to break contact first...and turn away from the window...walking out of the room...then making my way downstairs. I immediately go for the kitchen...and a glass of Bourbon...or possibly several...or maybe even the whole damn bottle. There's no way in 'Hell' I'm getting any more sleep tonight...not to mention bothering to rescue my pillow...until the morning...and until I'm sure that my creepy avian stalker has disappeared. There's something...not quite right...about that bird. The way that it was staring at me...it was just...unnatural...almost like...it was...talking to me...without saying anything at all. Where did that bird come from in the first place? Another shudder passes through me...almost causing me to drop the glass and bottle that I reach for. Yep. Creepy... [END]

#tvd #roleplay

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mionemymind · 3 years

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Chapter 3: The Harsh Treatment

Fake Memories

Series Summary: After Y/n is caught cheating on Wanda with Carol, Y/n would do just about anything to get Wanda back into her life. But was it even Y/n’s fault that she cheated? Or was it the new enemy set on revenge?

Chapter Summary: What will happen to Y/n as the team pushes her past her limits?

A/n: I lied, I decided to be nice and post it now. Honestly, the amount of support that I’m receiving from this fanfic has literally made me smile so much. I really love all of you who read and/or comment. You mean the world to me. Let me know what you think. :) (Not my GIF)

Warnings: Starvation, harmful thoughts, curse words, self-doubt, mentions of blood, injuries, angst

Word Count: 5k

Masterlist

Y/n abruptly woke up at the feeling of pressurized gas coursing through her body. She quickly sat up, unable to see anything in the white fog. The cold feeling only lasted a couple seconds before F.R.I.D.A.Y stated, “Fire has been contained.” Y/n hugged herself for warmth as she waited for the fog to disappear. This was the 13th time this month that she was woken up with pressurized gas. At first, it was foam but someone in maintenance had changed the system after the 5th time she woke up.

Y/n looked at her surroundings and sighed at the damages to her sheets. There were burn marks along with small amounts of frostbite from the gas. “At this rate, I won’t have money for food.” With a grim face, Y/n got up from her bed and proceeded with taking everything off her bed, a routine she unfortunately started to learn.

Y/n didn’t know when things got worse. If she had to guess, maybe it was after the whole fiasco with Wanda. The team had been on edge ever since then. “They probably thought I hurt her,” Y/n thought at the time, but it was far from the truth. She had wanted to explain herself to the team but dismissed those thoughts with, “What’s the point in trying? I’ll always be guilty to them.”

As for Wanda, the still heartbroken girl didn’t dare to speak to the team about that night. Even she didn’t quite know what happened. Since that night, she only lied to herself stating that maybe Y/n had done something. It would probably remove the guilt she had when she thought of the blood running down Y/n’s face. But even the lie couldn’t repress the truth from her thoughts.

After she collected her bedding, she threw it away in the trash can along with the other damaged beddings. Y/n grabbed her wallet off her night stand and opened it. She couldn’t feel it, but her heart dropped at the sight of the lack of money she had. Only a $20 dollar bill as well as a couple ones were left. She closed her eyes and tried her best to keep herself calm, to try and act like the world wasn’t closing in on her. It was a couple minutes later when she opened her eyes and looked at her wallet again. “This was supposed to last me for the rest of the month.” Y/n rubbed her forehead, feeling the overwhelming stress from her lack of funds.

One might ask, “Aren’t you an Avenger? Shouldn’t you make a shit ton of money.” And at one point, Y/n would say yes, she did. But it all came back to that night. A week after, she had overheard a conversation that went…

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this to her.” Y/n was about to go around the corner, but decided to wait at the sound of Steve’s voice. “It’s simple Rodgers - unless I have to remind you why we needed to redo the glass in the conference room.” Steve sighed at Tony’s simple minded actions. Y/n could practically feel him crossing his arms in a disapproving manner.

“Well she did work fair and hard for her money Tony - this just feels wrong.” Y/n heard a couple clicks before Tony replied with, “This is for Wanda. Anything to get Y/n out of here by her own means is worth it. If you have a problem with this, you must not care as much for Wanda as I thought.” Steve sighed again seeing as he was morally put in an awkward position. It was either care for Y/n or care for Wanda. “That’s what I thought.” Tony left with a smug look on his face as he clicked more on the screen in front of him.

It didn’t take long for Y/n to see the effects of Tony’s decision. Her pay day was the following day and the overwhelming sense of panic and anxiety rose up within her as she only had $400 to survive until the next pay day, which was a month later. Since then, her food portions have been small to say the least. Y/n learned that she only had enough money for the month to eat at least once a day and even that was cutting it. The dramatic changes to her diet had slowly affected her powers but it recently had an exponential increase.

This was her fourth month of hardly eating when her powers started to flare at night. It has gotten to the point that Y/n couldn’t control them in her sleep leading to F.R.I.D.A.Y having to deal with her fireside. But her powers weren’t the only thing that has changed. If anyone were to actually look, they would see that Y/n had gotten skinnier. Her literal glow was getting duller and duller the more time passed.

However, Y/n refused to feel sorry for herself. The sentence “I deserve this” was burned into her head. The brain tricks she puts herself through even allowed her to convince that Tony's decision was right. That Wanda didn’t need to tell the truth to the team. That Steve didn’t need to defend her. And that the team certainly was allowed to make her feel like nothing. Because to Y/n, if she didn’t deserve this, then why would you possibly treat a person like this? Just why?

Of course, Wanda didn’t notice these changes at all. The girl was trying her best to avoid Y/n as much as possible. She always had exit strategies in place in case she were to be in the same vicinity as Y/n. However, Wanda also didn’t notice that lack of Y/n’s presence. Much to her dismay, Y/n’s efforts were the reason they didn’t see each other much.

What Wanda did notice though was the slow and gradual decline of snacks in her cubby. It left her to question whether Natasha was done doing these small favors for her. But her reports were still getting done.

The red head didn’t have much room to think though as she got slammed down on the mat from the other red head. “Take a ten - you’re distracted and we can’t keep going like this.” Wanda grumbled at another failed attempt to flip Natasha over. Hand to hand combat was one of the few subjects that Wanda hated the most. With the help of Natasha, Wanda got up and walked over to the waters on the other side of the room. She was gulping down the remaining when Natasha’s words caught her off guard. “What happened?”

Wanda cocked an eyebrow while still drinking her bottle, needing more elaboration. Natasha faced Wanda while hundreds of thoughts racked her mind. Luckily for her, Wanda had trained her on how to make them quiet enough that Wanda wouldn’t be able to hear. When Natasha found the right words, she said, “I am not doubting you. I am doubting her…” Wanda closed the bottle and looked around the room to avoid Natasha’s eyes. This had been the first time that anyone from the team had remotely even asked her about that night. To be frank, she hadn’t expected Natasha to be the one to break the ice. Usually it was Steve that would act like the team’s counselor. Guess things change.

Wanda sighed and recollected her memory for the night that continued to haunt her. “One minute, I left to get a drink from the bar. - she said that she needed to go to the bathroom. The next minute, I come back to see her all over blondie.” Wanda’s grip on the bottle tightened at the words she was going to say next. “I thought it was a mistake - that she could have been too drunk that night - b-but her thoughts were so - loud.” Wanda slammed her fist at the table in front of her, tears already falling down her cheeks. “A-a-and I saw everything-”

The broken hearted girl didn’t have much energy left in her to continue. She dropped to her knees and sobbed into her hands. Natasha kneeled beside Wanda. She pulled the poor girl into her arms, trying her best to physically comfort her. But nothing could really make Wanda feel better. What could you say to a girl that saw every moment where her girlfriend has cheated on her? Nothing - you say nothing.

“It’s quite pathetic actually,” Tony said as he spun the rod, causing his player to score in foosball. He was currently versing Steve as the two decided to quietly speak about Y/n’s actions for the past couple weeks. Going on the defense again, Steve shot back but Tony was quick to block. “She’s probably just trying to get her money back.” Steve huffed from the sudden slap shot as well as Tony’s rude words.

For the past couple weeks, Y/n had gone from trying to win Wanda back to trying to win the whole team back. The first thing they noticed was all the completed mission reports and the continuation of it. Clint was the first to jokingly comment, “Bruce must really love mission reports.” But the genius bore a confused look before replying with, “It wasn’t me. Even I haven’t had anything to do in my stack for a couple days.” Bruce had a displeasured look on his face. Clint just assumed it was either he wanted to do his stack of reports or the comment was actually true...or maybe both.

When it was time for the meeting, Clint had asked everyone in the room, minus Y/n, on who was completing the mission reports for everyone. “Well, I’m doing Wanda’s and mine,” Natasha claimed as she sat in her usual spot. No one was able to detect her lie, but then again, Natasha was always good at lying.

Clint was quick to figure out that the only person remaining must have been the person responsible. With a straight forward voice, he explained to the team that Y/n had been completing everyones, besides Wanda’s and Natasha’s, reports. Still, Natasha sat there, copying the confused looks on everyone’s faces. She didn’t care to tell them the truth, it wasn’t worth it. However, the meeting proceeded with little comment on Y/n’s actions. She wasn’t worth the mention.

“What if she actually is trying to say sorry to us?” Steve couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for Y/n, but Tony’s words made the guilt go all away. “Oh - so miss Hydra over here actually wants to apologize - hilarious Steve.” With that, Tony quickly spun the rod and scored the final point, making him win the game. What the two failed to realize was the fact that Y/n had overheard their conversation. She no longer felt hungry for the day and had retreated back to her room, feeling overwhelmingly numb from the confession she heard.

It was a new and different day for Wanda. She had managed to want to try and sit in the common room with her team seeing as sitting in her room no longer gave her the same satisfaction anymore. Scrolling through the tv, she was about to pull up Bewitched when the following words appeared on the screen:

Bewitched is longer provided on Netflix. Please see related tv shows.

“What do you mean it’s no longer available?” Wanda frustratedly questioned. And here she was trying to have a good day. “Sorry kid, I guess Netflix took it off their streaming service,” Clint said as he leaned over the couch. “No why would they do that?!” Wanda said with an exasperated look. Clint simply shrugged, Netflix did have an awful reputation for getting favorites removed or canceled. “No clue, but you could try other shows.” Wanda crossed her arms and huffed at his suggestion. “I was really feeling Bewitched today.” Ruffling her hair, Clint left after saying, “Try to feel for something else.”

However, Wanda had failed to feel anything but angry for the remaining of the day. It wasn’t until she sat in her room for the night, aimlessly finding shows in her room when she noticed Bewitched on her home screen. She quickly clicked on it noticing that all eight seasons are there for her own viewing. Her mood immensely increased for the night as she fell asleep in the middle of season two.

Outside of her room, Y/n had been cleaning up the compound for the night. It was getting harder and harder to clean the kitchen when everything in her wanted to just take a couple of snacks for herself. Her hunger was constantly on her mind as well as the stupid flashes that have sporadically appeared more and more everyday. But she wanted more than anything to prove to the team that she is a good person. Stealing, no matter how minor, was probably the last thing she needed to be labeled as.

When she completed for the night, she returned to her room but paused outside of her door when she heard the Bewitched theme song loudly play in Wanda’s room. A small smile appeared on her face as she walked back into her room and slept on the floor tonight.

“Did it ever occur to you that I love you - like a lot?” The couple were laying in Carol’s room decorated with punk rock posters and pictures of their team. Small plants were placed around the room while Malcolm in the Middle was used as background noise.

“Nah. I haven’t heard you say it in approximately - 10 minutes?” Carol laughed as Y/n glanced at her watch. They laid on their sides as they faced each other, their faces being only inches away. “Well I do.” Carol cupped Y/n’s cheek as she soon grew mesmerized.

There are words to always describe feelings with someone but they all felt overused or incomplete. Because everything felt like this daydream colored borders with warm tones and retro filters as she glanced at Y/n. She felt like she was watching a show that she would never get tired of. Even if the show was in color or black and white, new or old, slow or fast, she would watch just to see her. Just her.

“You do what?” Carol flicked Y/n’s forehead at her response. “Kidding - kidding.” Y/n said as she rubbed her forehead. Carol rolled her eyes and kissed Y/n’s head as she cuddled into her arms, legs tangled within the sheets. “I do love you.” Y/n kissed her hair as she combed it with her hand. “I know,” she whispered, hoping Carol would pick up on the secret reference. Because to Y/n, yeah, she’s worth a whole galaxy.

It was the middle of the night when Steve woke up from a nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Rather than staying in bed to force himself to sleep, he got up and headed to the kitchen for a late night snack.

Heading into the pantry, Steve pursed his lips noticing that Y/n’s cubby had been empty for weeks it seems like. The guilt that was slowly forming inside him kept building and building. Although he knew he could try to do something about it, the loyalty he had to his family - to Wanda. That was something he didn’t want to break.

The relationship with Wanda and Steve was something similar to a father and daughter relationship. Steve had always wanted a kid of his own and Wanda had lost her father. The irony of it all just happened to work for the two. Even though Wanda nor Steve would admit it out loud, they viewed each other as the roles that needed to be filled in their lives. They needed each other regardless of titles.

But then there was Y/n. The troubled girl that made Steve absolutely nervous with how quick her and Wanda seemed to like each other. It absolutely didn’t help Steve’s case when the whole team found out about Y/n’s past. His anxiety had practically skyrocketed. It eventually led to a one on one talk with Wanda about how sometimes we need to protect ourselves before letting people in.

But Y/n was still there. Breaking down Wanda’s walls. So just like any Dad would, Steve watched over. Making sure his girl was always happy and safe. So while Natasha may have refilled Wanda’ cubby and did her reports, Steve had carried Wanda to bed during nights she couldn’t sleep. He made her tea for times that she didn’t want to talk, which was often. He tucked her in at night and cuddled with her when she needed a shoulder to cry on. He was just there.

But so was she. She was there whenever Wanda cried at night. She was there when Wanda would sometimes forget to eat after busying herself all day. She was there to take care of Wanda. She was there when Steve wasn’t. And that meant everything to Steve. So why couldn’t Steve be there for Y/n?

There were a lot of unanswered questions roaming around Steve’s head. Rather than pondering more about them, he walked around the tower, eating a pack of cookies for himself. Just as he was turning the corner, he glanced towards the conference room to see Wanda asleep in front of her reports. However, the more alarming part was the girl that happened to be right in front of Wanda. Steve quickly grew on high alert and observed Y/n’s actions. However, after a couple minutes of harmless actions, Steve forced his shoulders to relax. “She’s just doing reports - calm down,” Steve thought.

But he couldn’t calm down. The guilt had maneuvered it’s way back up to his throat as he actually noticed the pale state of the once bright girl. For someone that had literal fire abilities, she lacked the glow of any raging fire. Feeling nothing but guilt all over, Steve felt compelled to say something - anything. But he froze. He didn’t know what to say.

However, the opportunity soon was lost as Y/n finished everyone’s stack of reports. Steve hid around the corner as Y/n passed him. Hearing a door close was when Steve stepped out of hiding. He glanced towards the direction of Y/n’s room, feeling every need to go to her. But his footsteps led him to Wanda. He picked her up and carried her to her room. Wanda will always be first in Steve’s heart. And nothing could change that.

“We have to stop this treatment Tony.” Steve waltzed into Tony’s lab the very next day. For once, he couldn’t sleep for the remainder of the night. Y/n was all over his mind. The guilt was practically eating him alive.

Tony rolled his eyes at Steve’s dramatic fashion for entrances. “Oh - good morning Tony - how are you - I’m actually pretty good.” Steve rolled his eyes as he stood in front of Tony, a hologram in between the two.

“Cut the crap Tony - I’m being serious.” Steve crossed his arms. This needed to end. “And you think I’m not Rodgers?” Tony was quick to respond, already growing irritated by the conversation.

“This isn’t right - none of this right.” Steve wiped the hologram to finally get a clear view of Tony as he grew frustrated by the second. Tony simply swiped it back, not wanting to deal with the issue. “Well maybe if she just quit - we wouldn’t need to worry about anything. It’s not my fault Fury hired Ms. Hydra - and if he finds out I fired her, he would not allow it at all.”

“But can’t you see that your stupid plan isn’t working? All we’re doing is abusing the girl.” Steve wiped the hologram again but Tony simply walked to a different station and continued his work. Angry with his response, Steve walked around the table and stood beside Tony.

“This needs to end Tony,” Steve said through his gritted teeth. The man was clenching his jaw so hard, it almost looked as if he was going to break his teeth. However, Tony quickly glared at Steve at the mention of his threat.

“Don’t you fucking dare. Can’t you actually see that I’m trying to protect Wanda.” Steve tilted his head at the awful reasoning for his actions. “How is this protecting Wanda? Why are you even trying to protect her?”

Tony slammed his fist into the table, feeling his anger rising by the second. “We - no - I need to protect her Steve!”

“Why Tony? Why?”

“Because I’m the goddamn reason her parents and her country is dead. I’m the reason that everything she ever loved is gone. I’m the reason for her sadness. She, of all people, deserves happiness. And I sure as hell won’t let anyone else hurt her anymore - no more Steve.” Tony didn’t give Steve a chance as he walked out the facility needing a day drink more than ever.

It was lunch time and all Wanda could think about was the need to cook paprikash. She didn’t know when the last time she had actually cooked. And seeing as the majority of the team was on missions, she could actually cook without interruptions or lingering eyes.

Walking into the kitchen, Wanda tied her hair up and started to take out the necessary ingredients for the meal. It was when she was talking the spices out when Vision had appeared out of nowhere, nearly scaring the girl. “Vision!”

Sensing a slight rise in her heart rate and anger, Vision had quickly apologized. “Sorry Wanda.” Wanda shook her head and quickly resumed prepping. “I will try to work on making my presence known. If I may ask, what is it that you’re doing?”

“I’m making paprikash.” Vision’s mind grew curious at the word and quickly searched his database for it. “I see. A traditional Sokovian food.” Wanda didn’t realize it, but she had felt a little annoyed at the synthezoid’s presence. It wasn’t anything he did, but Wanda desperately wanted alone time for herself.

Before she could ask, Vision had said, “Good morning Y/n.” Wanda’s quickly grew wide as she avoided glancing in Y/n’s direction. She hadn’t stayed in the tense position though as Vision announced, “Oh - it seems she had left before saying hi back.”

Feeling ever more frustrated with people’s presence, Wanda was about to ask him to leave but noticed the confusion written all over his face and didn’t hesitate to ask, “What is it Vision?” Vision pursed his lips and contemplated his words. It was visibly obvious to see that he was trying to wrack up what to say. “I think...it’s just…” He sighed knowing that this was going to be a sensitive subject to the witch but knowing everything she's been through, lying was not the best option. “It’s just that Y/n-” Wanda quickly cut Vision off in desperation to know what Y/n had done to Vision. If the girl were to even lay a finger on him, she was sure to deal with it herself. “What did she do? Did she hurt you? I swear-” Seeing her eyes turn red, Vision immediately explained himself. “-No no no. It’s not that, the complete opposite actually.” Wanda’s eyes slowly turned back to normal. When Vision saw that her heart rate was close to normal, he continued. “It’s just that...Y/n’s vitals have been decreasing in a fluctuating matter. Some days it would be a small decrease, but some days it would be a big decrease. Overall, her health has been poor.” Vision looked back at where Y/n once stood. If he hadn’t quickly analyzed her, he wouldn’t have noticed that today’s vitals was record worst. “Although she does have physical injuries, she seems to continue to radiate pain throughout her body even when those injuries have healed. It starts through her head and it spreads like a radio wave through her nervous system. I’ve done my calculations and the leading cause could be migraines...” Vision soon was in deep thought, trying to recalculate just to make sure what he was about to say was correct. “...but it doesn’t make sense.”

Wanda tilted her head. Processing this information was hard seeing as at her darkest moments, she wanted nothing but Y/n to be hurt. She deserved it for all the pain she caused her to go through. But hearing it now? That was a different story. It was like an internal conflict was going through her. Should she even care about Y/n’s health? “What doesn’t make sense?” Vision looked hard into Wanda’s eyes as he said, “Migraines shouldn’t cause her heart to stop multiple times.”

Wanda stared at Vision, processing the information that the love of her life is practically dying. “A-are you sure?” Vision slowly nodded. “However, after some calculations, I do believe she will be okay. She only needs a good source of food for her healing regeneration to fully heal this.” Wanda relaxed at Vision’s words. Although she has been through immense pain through these past couple months, having Y/n gone from her life like that would hurt more than anything.

Before Vision could continue his explanation, F.R.I.D.A.Y stated, “Emergency alert. All available Avengers please head to the quinjet per the request of Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers.” Quickly, the two headed to the plane as the important part of Vision’s explanation was missed. Little did Wanda know, Y/n would not heal any time soon.

The trio arrived on the quinjet and wasted no time trying to figure out the mission that was ahead of them. There was a serious feel in the atmosphere sensing that this had to be bad. There was no way that it couldn’t have been. Because if it wasn’t, they certainly wouldn’t have invited Y/n to this mission.

Lately, the girl has been assigned to only solo missions. Y/n couldn’t quite remember the last time that she was on a mission with any team member nevermind the fact with the whole team.

“Backup is needed immediately after touch down. Vision and Wanda, meet up with Steve and Sam at the Northeast corridor. Y/n, you are assigned to the entrance,” Tony stated through the intercom.

The feeling in Y/n’s stomach worsened. Not only was she hungry and sleep deprived, she didn’t also have a partner with her. It also didn’t help the fact that the flashes have gotten worse. Y/n couldn’t help but pray for a miracle. After all, they were dealing with the very people Y/n hated - Hydra.

Y/n couldn’t quite tell when things on the mission got to shit. Maybe it was the fact that as soon as they touched down and went to their assigned positions, Y/n received a massive swarm of Hydra agents. It didn’t help that her health regeneration was not at its peak or these agents actually were decently trained. Or was it during the third wave, that was currently happening, where Y/n tested the limits of her body.

Seeing the onslaught of agents coming her way, Y/n decided it was time to test out her new ability. She rapidly swung her right arm, building momentum as the fire within her right side blazed. As soon as the enemies were close, she released a fire tornado in their path. It had managed to take out at least half of the wave, but more and more kept coming.

Pressing her comms, Y/n said, “Can someone send back up my way?! There’s too many for me to handle.” Y/n kicked back the agent that was about to stab her in the back, but was too distracted to the point a different agent was able to cut her leg. “Fuck.”

Y/n quickly released an ice wall that at first glance, appeared to be the same height as the Great Wall of China. She hoped the barrier would give her enough time for her backup to appear. Focusing all her energy on her fireside, Y/n aimed at any agent near her, using her arm as a flamethrower.

However, worry immediately grew when no one had responded to her call within a couple minutes. Before she could request again, Nat had spoken bitterly in the comms, “On my way.” Sighing in relief, Y/n continued to fight off the agents the best she could.

But no matter how hard she tried to buy herself time, it seemed that Natasha was taking forever to come. It had gotten to the point that multiple lashes already appeared. Her healing regeneration couldn’t keep up at all. Not only that, but her body was either giving up from exhaustion or blood loss. It was only during the last couple agents when Natasha had shown up and quickly killed the remainder.

Y/n glanced at the assassin and noticed the lack of any injuries on her and it was as if she barely broke a sweat. “What happened? I almost got killed.”

Natasha glared at Y/n as she responded with, “I helped Bucky and Rhodey on the way, they needed it.” Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat knowing the redhead in front of her had practically lied. If backup was needed, it was always voiced through comms.

Even if Y/n had wanted to confront Natasha about it, she couldn’t. Natasha had already left to head to the quinjet. Y/n simply limped a couple feet from her. When Y/n arrived, it seemed that everyone else was already prepared for take off. Feeling ever more guilty, Y/n simply sat at the closet seat to the entrance that was away from the team. But something inside her broke even more noticing the lack of any questions or concerns from the team in regards to her injuries.

Not even bothering to buckle up, Y/n sulked in her thoughts when she realized, “Why doesn’t anyone care about me?”

Tag List: @halobaby @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog @sighsam

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #fake memories

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sunflowerdaisybee · 3 years

Note

back at it again with another request you lovely author :)) so in this one, cc!bench trio are hanging our and they come across a stray kitten in the street, and they decide to take it back to tubbo's place and try to figure out how to take care of a kitten, and while tommy is looking stuff up, ranboo and tubbo are put in charge of watching the kitten and are thinking of names when MAGIC SPARKLES POOF the kitten poofs into a child, appearing just a little younger than tommy, maybe 14 or 15. and then tommy comes back and sees the kid and is like "WHERE DID THIS CHILD COME FROM WHERES THE CAT" and ranboo and tubbo are just as confused and panicked as tommy is and that makes the cat humanoid person, reader, a little anxious so they go and hide under tubbo's desk. and so the trio decide to calm down and start asking some questions, trying not to scare reader. but it turns out that reader can't speak, read, right, or count. they also still have cat instincts and behavior while in humanoid form, which causes some stress on the trio. so they opt to care for reader and teach them how to write and read first so they can properly communicate, and then move onto teaching them numbers and basic math. taking care of reader has taken up a lot of their time, which causes the trio to just disappear from the internet for about a month with no warning, which makes their friends and fans kinda concerned. at one point tommy and wilbur call and tommy explains the situation and will's just so calm about it and is like "oh yeah, one of niki's cats is like that too. her and i can come over and help you out" and so niki and will show up and also help take care of reader and then after reader is stable enough to not have someone watch them 24/7, the trio is finally able to stream again and its all happy and pog :)) thank you as always author! <3 -froggy/tori

Ok so my internet is being crappy and I've had to redo this like twenty times, but basically I love this so much and the only reason it isn't finished is because it's gonna end up super long and I didn't want to have a super long post so I'm gonna make a part two, don't worry, I am absolutely in love with this and fully intend on finishing it

Summary: The boys find a stray cat or rather a stray human?

Pairing: P!Bench Trio X Reader

Pronouns: They/them

[A/n]: Requests are open <3

“No no, that’s most definitely a lie. I totally beat you.”

“Tubbo we both saw you cheat, your win doesn’t count.” The three bickered back and forth about who won until something caught their eyes. It was a young cat, just barely older than a kitten, pacing about in front of them. The cat was small and malnourished, it looked to be a stray too.

“Aw look at the poor baby, we should take it home.” Tubbo went to reach for the cat but was stopped by Ranboo.

“They might have fleas, let me pick them up since I have my gloves.” Ranboo offered a hand to the cat, showing he meant no harm, before gently scooping them up. The cat seemed to panic for a moment before settling down, allowing themselves to be held by the large man.

Now with purpose in their steps, the three rushed back to Tubbo’s house, it was the closest and the best place.

Once inside the home, the three brought the cat into Tubbo’s room, trying to avoid other people. Ranboo and Tubbo sat on the floor with the kitten while Tommy went to grab some water and cat food from the kitchen. Tubbo would’ve done it but he was already too attached to the small creature.

“What should we name them? What about fluffy?” Tubbo looked at Ranboo, who was doing some research on his phone.

“I think we should give it a cool name like Porcupine or Soup.”

“Porcupine is a terrible name. Look at them and tell me-” Tubbo didn’t get to finish his sentence as a puff of light-colored smoke flew up around them. As the smoke cleared the two saw what appeared to be a kid, sitting in place of where the cat once was.

“What the fuck!” Tommy’s loud and sudden voice had startled you, sending you scurrying away from all three. Though due to the position you were in, you only ended up cornering yourself under Tubbo’s desk, crap. Noticing your distress, the three froze, trying to stay as quiet and still as possible.

“Hey there buddy, you’re ok. We aren’t gonna hurt you.” Tubbo’s words flew right over your head, you were stressing out and weren’t thinking. You may have shifted to a mostly human form, but your brain was stuck in cat mode, it had been the only thing you knew. Thankfully when you shifted between forms your clothes shifted with you, meaning that you weren’t accidentally exposing yourself to the three boys.

Tommy moved to slowly sit between the two boys, slowly place down the two bowls, and using a shoe to nudge them over to you. This unnerved you but you were quickly entranced by the smell. Anything that smelt that good had to taste good.

With hesitant movements you went to pick up the bowl, bringing it closer to sniff. Oh yeah, this was gonna taste great. Disgusted looks crossed the three boys' faces as you began to eat the cat food, it was kibble so you were able to scoop up handfuls and shovel them into your mouth.

“Uhm, if you’d like some people food, I can get you some.” You looked up at him, but you weren’t listening. All you cared about was the amazing food in the bowl.

The kibble kept your attention until Ranboo decided to test something. You were a cat just a minute ago and were still acting like one. So, using an app on his phone, he shone a laser pointer at the ground in front of you.

The movements of the red dot caught your eye, making you place your bowl aside. Things were still for a moment before you attempted to pounce on the dot, pupils big and wide.

“They really are just a cat, weird.” Ranboo continued to tease you with the dot while the three discussed. They talked about what they were going to do with you, they couldn’t just throw you back onto the streets. Ranboo had heard about hybrid’s before and decided to look up laws on owning one, they were more common nowadays but still not super popular.

“It says here that it’s legal to own a hybrid in the UK, as long as it’s collared and you take all responsibility for its actions.”

“Oh, that’s not bad, we’ll have to figure out a name for them though.”

“Name?” The word intrigued you, you had heard it before. Sitting up straight, head tilted, you stared quizically at the boys.

“Yeah, a name. Like my name is Tubbo, that’s Ranboo, and that’s Tommy. What’s your name?”

“Name?”

“I don’t think they have a name, they looked like a stray and they look pretty young.” Tubbo nodded, looking over to you again.

“How about we call you (Y/n)?”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Me too. What do you think?”

“Name!”

“Yes, you have a name.”

Taglist: @joyfullymulti

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tricksters-captain · 3 years

Text

Benny Watts/The Queens Gambit imagines - From Pawn to Pen Part 4

AN: I’m sorry I missed posting last week. I’m currently going through a hard break up and it’s really taking a lot of energy out of me so I struggle to write at the moment.

Overall Summary: You’re a young journalist for Chess Review, with a love for chess and a desire for knowledge. One day at a tournament, you come across the famous Benny Watts...

In this chapter: You return to Boston for the week.

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

Pairing(s): Benny Watts x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1,940

Warnings: Some strong language

You smiled as you looked at the copies of ‘Chess Review’ on the racks.

Your first front page piece for Chess Review.

They had used one of the pictures of Benny that you had taken at the hotel and you were pretty proud of your photography skills.

You picked up a copy and took it inside to pay for it.

On second thought, you picked up two so you could mail one to Angelie.

You left the store quickly after and started to walk back to your apartment.

Boston was busier than you had remembered and you finally had some time to sort out the apartment after your article went down well with the big man.

You opened the door to your apartment and put down your groceries on the kitchen counter top.

The last tenant hadn’t left the place in too bad a state, just a carpet stain here and there and a broken lamp.

You had bought some paint to redecorate your living room and bedroom since it seemed too boring after where you lived in Paris. You had spent the last couple days painting and then you finally left to go check out your title page.

The books that Benny had given you were still on your small two person dining room table where you had left them when you first got back. You looked over at them and furrowed your brow as you thought about whether you are actually going to bother to read them or not.

Your phone started to ring and your frown disappeared when you realised it was probably Angelie. No one else had your number besides your work.

“Hello?” You answered it, taking the phone off the wall as you leant beside it.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” You’d recognise that voice anywhere after listening to it so much over the last tournament.

“Benny Watts?” You asked, almost in shock.

“Have you read those books I leant you yet?” He asked, not even bothering to confirm it was him.

“It’s been four days.” You told him flatly.

“You could’ve easily gotten through at least two of them by now.” Benny challenged you which caused you to shake your head (even though he couldn’t see).

“You know, Benny Watts, I do have a life to live.” You defended yourself to which Benny found amusing.

“So, you’re back in Boston since you picked up this phone.” Benny changed the subject completely.

“How did you even get this number?” You asked, genuinely curious and a little worried.

“You really think Chess Review won’t hand over your telephone number to their favourite US chess player?”

“You got it from Beth Harmon then?” You teased the boy to which he responded with a dry laughter.

“Ha Ha. Very funny.” Benny retorted, “If you’re in Boston, it means you currently aren’t working. Fancy an educational trip to New York City?”

“Benny, I told you. I’m not coming to New York.” You reminded him about how you declined previously when he asked.

“Come on, just for the weekend? We’ll play some chess, do some tourist shit and eat some food?” Benny asked, trying his best to persuade you Benny Watts style.

“I’ve also told you before that I don’t play.” You felt a small bubble of excitement in your stomach as you considered going to New York but you quickly squashed it down.

“What are you afraid of?” Benny asked. Deja Vu.

“Why are you pushing this?” You closed your eyes as you let your head roll back to press against the wall.

“Because I see that same light that’s in Beth Harmon, that’s in every decent chess player when you see a chess board.” Benny confessed to you.

“I’m sorry, Benny. You’ll just have to find someone else to play with. I don’t want to be apart of this little game.” You hung up the phone with a sad sigh before Benny could respond.

You found yourself looking at the books again.

You picked up Benny’s and you opened it...

“I’ve been waiting all day for your call.” You half scolded Angelie as you answered the call.

You heard Angelie’s laughter through the phone and it made you home sick.

“Je suis désolé!” Angie apologised. “This new project has me so busy, constantly on set, costume changes, make up changes, redoing scene..!”

“It sounds awful.” You chuckled,

“It is! You wouldn’t understand... You’re just a big time American journalist.” Angelie pouted. “Anyway, how are you?”

“I’m okay.” You lied.

“Menteuse!” Angelie called you out. “Tell me the truth. What is bothering you, Mon Cher?”

“Benny Watts called me today.” You had filled her in on the tournament with him once you had first arrived back in Boston and she had already previously told you off for not taking his offer to New York.

“He did?!” Angie gasped.

“Yes, he did. He got my number through work and called me to ask if I had read the books he gave me which I haven’t because it’s been less than a week since. the tournament.” You explained.

“That boy is in love with you, I am telling you now.” Angie was always the hopeless romantic type. It’s how she has had her heart broke so many times.

“The boy wants to play chess with me to assert his masculine dominance over me and boost his ego with an easy win.” You argued.

“You are always so negative about men! You hardly know this one!” Angelie groaned.

“He’s Benny Watts. That’s all I need to know.”

“I think you should go to New York and meet with him.” Angelie told you. You hadn’t even informed her about the fact he asked you again.

“I think I should stay here and enjoy my first weekend off in six months.” You shook your head at the idea.

“(Y/n), you only live once and how many girls are invited to New York by the Benny Watts?!”

“Probably quite a lot.” You knew Angie was only trying to hype you up but you couldn’t help but knock her down.

“Even if that is so. You could probably get another article out of it. Benny Watts and his life in the big apple?” Angie suggested.

“I’m sure ‘LIFE’ has already done that piece before.” You pushed another idea aside.

“Trust me, (Y/n). You need to stop being so afraid of the unknown and who knows, maybe you’ll enjoy yourself?” Angelie had had enough of the negativity from you at this point.

There was a sudden knock at your door.

“I’m sorry, Angie. Someone’s just knocked on my door, I’ll have to call you back.” You looked over at your front door and wondered who it could be.

“Ça va. Call me back!” She told you as the knock occurred again.

“Je t'aime.” You hung the phone back up on the wall and went over to your door.

You opened it and you felt your face go white at the sight of who stood there.

“Jesus, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Benny Watts.

BENNY WATTS.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked him.

“Well, you wouldn’t come to me so I came to you.” Benny shrugged.

“You can’t just stalk someone. This isn’t okay. This isn’t cute!” You were bewildered.

“This isn’t stalking. It’s simply coming to Boston to visit a friend.” He defended himself as he stood out in the hallway.

“I wouldn’t call us friends, Benny.” You scoffed.

“Ouch.” Benny put his hand on his heart.

You went to close your door on him but Benny stopped you.

“Wait.” He pleaded. His cocky demeanour suddenly dropped. “Look, I know this is weird but I really wanted to see you.” Benny started to explain.

“I––” He cut you short.

“–– This isn’t some game. I just want to help you. I want you to play chess again. I want you to play with me.” Benny stayed with his hand against the door and his foot in the gap as he spoke.

“This is crazy, Benny.” You told him, your eyes locked on his as you felt your heart race.

“I know.” Benny stepped back. “I’m staying in the hotel down the block. I’ll be here all weekend. If you don’t want to see me, then don’t. But if you change your mind. I’ll be around.”

You watched him back away from the door and head back down the stairs.

Benny fucking Watts.

You rushed back to the phone and dialled Angelie’s number.

“Bonjour?” She answered,

“You’ll never guess who was at the door.”

You ended up tossing and turning all night.

You caved in at around 3am and started to read Benny’s book again.

You finished it by the time the sun was rising.

You had a cold shower to wake you up at around 9am and then you stared in the mirror as the thoughts racked your brain.

You walked over to your chess set that rested on the dresser top and you took it over to your bed, opening it up.

You set up the board and stared at it.

You picked up the queen. The same queen that Benny had held in the photo you took.

You caved.

You dressed and did simple make up before heading to the hotel that Benny had told you he was staying.

“I’m looking for Mr Benny Watts.” You asked the elderly lady at the front desk.

“He’s staying in room 306 but I’m almost certain I saw him leave about an hour ago for breakfast.” She informed you.

You thanked her then sighed.

You left the hotel lobby and started down the street. There was plenty of places to eat around the hotel, you almost considered just waiting in the lobby for him to return.

Then you saw it.

Through a window of a small diner.

The famous black hat.

You pushed open the diner door and walked towards the booth where Benny was sat.

He had his back to you but he didn’t seem surprised to see you when you sat down opposite him.

“Morning.” He greeted you as he munched on some pancakes.

“I won’t play chess with you.” You stated. “I won’t play chess with you but I will spend the weekend with you and you can talk about it.”

Benny remained silent as his brown eyes watched you carefully.

“I finished your book.” You told him. “I'm ready to learn.”

Benny placed his knife and fork down, picking up the napkin beside his plate to wipe his mouth.

“Great.” He nodded, interlinking his fingers above his food as he elbows rested on the table. “Let’s begin.”

(WHAT HAPPENS NEXT HERE)

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waatermelon-sugaar · 3 years

Text

Want to kiss?

Pairing = Poe x reader

Words = 5.2k

Summary = You and Poe are friends. Acting married won’t lead to anything. Will it?

Warnings = SMUT (18+only); semi-public fingering, semi-public grinding, implication of a bj, also language

A/N = Prompt no.23 requested by @witchyavenger as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?” w/ Poe and bolded in text

Also i might have concentrated more on the smut, than the plot, so if there are a couple of plot holes, that’s why, im not sorry

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

You weren’t looking forward to this.

A small, masochistic part of you was, but the larger part of you, the more sensible part, wanted to scream at the prospect.

Pretending to be a couple with Poe, to have the real thing so close in front of you, yet knowing that you couldn’t, made you want to cry. In fact, you already had.

The two of you had been briefed together, and told you would be acting as married senators at a gala. The way Poe’s face had tightened at the word ‘married’, made your chest hurt. He hadn’t said anything, but he didn’t need to before you’d drawn your own conclusions.

You’d tried not to think about it too much as the briefing had continued, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, and having to blink a little faster. You’d managed to keep it together until you’d gone back to your room, where you’d immediately burst into tears.

Poe couldn’t even stand the idea of being married to you?

You knew he wasn’t interested in you like that, but that hurt. Hurt more than you’d anticipated. Poe only had to pretend for a mission. And he didn’t want to do that? Now you’re sitting in front of the mirror, and you blow out a big breath. Not right now. Your make-up’s half on, and you don’t have the time to redo it if you start crying, now of all times.

And the truth was, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. You knew Poe. He was your friend and Commander, nothing more. He’d never given you any indication that he’d ever wanted more, never acted as anything but a good friend to you.

Now you were in the bathroom of a hotel on Coruscant, and Poe was next door and stars you had to share a bed tonight but you didn’t even want to think about that yet . All you had to do was finish your make-up, do your hair, put your fancy dress on, hope that Poe could bear to pretend to be married to you while the two of you looked for an opportunity to sneak upstairs, break into Senator Sewinn’s office, and gather any incriminating evidence stored there. Simple.

And that wasn’t counting getting out, and sharing a bed with Poe tonight, before your ship departed for the Resistance base tomorrow.

To put it simply, you were fucked.

But you’d pushed the emotions away, not wanting to address it. Not wanting to have that horrendous conversation. After all, it wasn’t a crime for someone not to fancy you.

Now you took a moment for yourself, looking up at the corner where the wall met the ceiling, and exhaling deeply.

Ok, think. What’s your first job? Make up.

You took your routine step-by step, finishing your makeup and hair, and pulling your dress on. You took the time to admire yourself in the mirror before you stepped out to face Poe, knowing that he was no doubt going to look absolutely dashing, while not caring either way about your appearance.

You knew that, except you did look good, even if you said so yourself. You let yourself breathe once more, hands fluttering out any invisible creases in the front of your dress. It had a nice cut for your chest, falling to the floor with a split down your right leg.

Ok. “Poe?” You knocked on the door before you returned to your room, not wanting to catch him in the middle of changing.

“I’m ready!” Comes the response, and you can’t help yourself, exhaling heavily again before greeting Poe.

You’d been prepared. Or so you thought.

You’d never seen Poe in a suit before, and it’s more than you could have ever imagined. He fills it out nicely, shoulders looking broader than ever. He’s brushed his hair neatly back, curls subdued for the night. They look darker than ever, strands curling over the back of his collar. Desire and heat are pooling low in your belly, your eyes slow in their movements as they graze over him

He’s freshly shaved after his shower, bronze skin glowing in the yellow light of the lamps scattered around the room. Your mouth is dry, and your breath shaky again. Poe’s looking at you funny, and you must be staring, so you clear your throat, shaking your head a little.

His tie is slightly to one side, so you step towards him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Can I-?” Your voice is a murmur as your hands reach out, one going to the centre of Poe’s neck. You straighten his tie, ignoring the warmth of his body below your hands and step back.

You hadn’t realised how intimate that would feel, how close you’d have to get, and now you feel overwhelmed, your body heating up, your heart beating faster. Poe’s looking at you with a strange look in his eyes, like he can’t quite figure out what your motives are, he can’t decide what you want.

Only, it’s not unusual, is it? Poe’s always been a touchy-feely person, hugging, holding hands, touching whenever he could, it didn’t tend to matter who it was, or what the situation was.

Except this feels different somehow, heavier. Like you crossed a line in your friendship that you weren’t aware existed. That the intimacy of fixing Poe’s tie, being this close to his body is teetering beyond friendship. Poe’s still looking at you with this heavy gaze, and maybe there’s something in his eyes, but you can’t bear to meet them, can’t bear to face the rejection you’ll find there.

So you swallow, fixing your gaze on the section of wall just to the left of his face, ignoring how your palms are singing from touching Poe, even through his shirt. They itch to do it again, hungry for more, and it takes all of your self control to stop yourself and to take a step back, widening the space between you.

“Shall we go?” You’re the first to speak, and at your words, Poe seems to snap out of it, closing down, any softness in his eyes, in his face, disappearing.

He nods, stiffer than he normally is around you, and you can only hope that he’ll loosen up when you get downstairs. “Here's your ring.” He reaches into his breast pocket and hands you a wedding band, gold and simple.

And you’ve been so distracted by the top half of him that you hadn’t seen his on his ring finger, hanging loosely at his side. You don’t say anything as you slip the cold jewellery on, your heart stuttering at the implication of something so plain.

Stepping out of your room, you take Poe’s offered elbow, and the two of you start your descent to the lobby. It takes you a while to get used to the breeze on your right leg, where your skin is exposed. The building is an old one, corridors extending in every direction with bedrooms and storerooms scattered in a seemingly random order. The lift is quiet, muzak playing faintly out of a tiny speaker.

“We’ve got this,” you murmur under your breath reassuring yourself. Poe looks at you, but doesn’t say anything, just patting your hand where it rests on his arm.

The transformation in him when you step into the hall is amazing. His smile, which you recognise enough to tell it’s fake, spreads across his face, and as you enter, he turns his head to your ear, murmuring, “I didn’t tell you how beautiful you looked before.”

There’s suddenly no air as you turn to look back at Poe, that familiar grin tugging on his lips. Your faces are close again, like a married couples, and you don’t try to hide the pleased look that’s clear across your face, feeling more flustered than you expected.

His eyes are encouraging, and you’ve never noticed how warm they are, what a soft brown. They’re lighter than you thought, having never been so close to his face before, dark irises increasing in size as he looks at you, waiting for your response.

You’re married, remember?

So you press your cheek to his smooth one, with a soft “thanks.”

You turn back to the crowd, missing how Poe’s gaze catches on you for a second longer than normal, instead concentrating on how no one noticed you walk in. Good. The room is busy already, you and Poe one of the last stragglers arriving. Soft music, not dissimilar to the one in lift is playing, largely drowned out by voices chattering away.

The ballroom is light and airy, yellow lamps creating a warm atmosphere, with a marble floor that causes your steps to click. There’s a bar near the entrance, and a stage to your left.

The beginning of the night is spent hanging off Poe’s arm, making conversation with Senators about brain-dead topics, Poe’s hand moving to squeeze yours in warning whenever you make a slightly too sarcastic comment, usually about the First Order really having an impact, and how it was about time someone made a monopoly of the galaxy anyway.

You push down the urge to be more sarcastic, if only to feel Poe’s skin on yours again.

No one seems to notice, especially not when you start to zone out, looking for opportunities to sneak away. The office had to be around this room somewhere; hours of poring over maps of the building had revealed a lot of empty space around the ballroom. And now Senator Sewinn was walking out of a concealed door in the back right of the room, which had to led to his office.

Unfortunately, he and a number of other important, puffed up looking peacocks of politicians seem intent to stand right in front of it, drawing, if anything, more attention to the door.

You huff, unknowingly scowling. What was the point of a secret door when you act like that? You may as well make a sign saying ‘Secret, Do Not Enter.’

“You alright, sweetheart?” Poe’s the one to drag you back to where you are, and you do one of those smug, self-centred couple smiles, one that you’d seen far too often, smoothing out your face.

“Yes, sorry honey.” You step back from the group, suddenly needing a moment. “If you’ll excuse me.” You direct this to the rest of the group, mumbling something about getting a drink, stumbling away, sure they won’t miss you. Poe’s behind you, his presence both stifling and a comfort.

When you reach the bar, his hand is on the small of your back, and he’s still so warm. How can his hand spread heat through your body like this? Through your dress? “Hey,” his mouth is by your ear again while you wait for the bartender. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, unsure yourself. “I don’t know Poe. Nothing.” Maybe it’s him. You can’t look directly at him, fearing you’ll combust.

It’s definitely him.

But instead, you turn your mouth back to his ear, close enough your mouth just grazes his earlobe as you talk. “Senator Sewinn isn’t leaving the door behind him.”

Poe looks behind you in a casual sweep of the room as you order two drinks.

When he turns back, his chest is pressing against you now, his arm around your waist, caging you into the bar, and you hope you don’t look as hot as you feel. You practically vibrate under his touch, the urge to push back into him stronger than ever. Poe’s blazer isn’t buttoned up, and it’s almost around you, you can feel the silk of his tie on your back.

Your breath sticks in your throat as he bends to whisper, again. This man is going to kill you. “Good spot sweetheart.”

Don’t press your hips back into him, you remind yourself, he’s there, but don’t do it.

You can smell the cologne Poe’s wearing too, the one he only uses on really special occasions and it’s making your head spin. Maybe you need some air.

You accept the drinks from the bartender, passing over some credits and turning in Poe’s arms, the cold glasses in your palms helping you a little, distracting you from the heat which seems to have settled in your core, pulsing in between your legs.

Except now you’re facing Poe, facing those warm brown eyes, and are they darker than they were before? Is this better or worse? Face to face, or chest against your back?

He’s licking his lips as he’s taking the drink from you and you’ve never wanted to kiss someone so bad. Breathe, in and out.

“Don’t worry, they’ll move,” it takes a second for you to tune back in, to realise what Poe is talking about. “Sewinn has to make a speech at the other end of the hall, we’re to move then, when everyone’s distracted, remember?”

His voice is soft, quiet, and you do remember, that the movements he’s describing are all part of the plan, have been ever since the brief, but this man who’s crowding you into the bar, the sharp edge cutting a vertical line into your back, is distracting you from the mission.

This mission, which is important for the Resistance.

The mission, which you can’t fail at.

And, more than that, you can’t let Poe down.

He’s not interested, you have to remind yourself when a pang of disappointment shoots through you as he steps back. This is fake, you’re fake married.

Somehow the reminder doesn’t help.

You sip your drink, cold liquid shooting down your throat as you look anywhere but at him.

The introductory section drags. You don’t return to the group you were talking to before, instead choosing to stay near the bar, exchanging the odd observation with Poe, the two of you consistently getting closer than you really need to talk.

He’s acting more normal now, his smile more natural as he relaxes. His hand has found a home on you, it doesn’t seem to matter where, moving from your shoulder to your back to your waist. You don’t dare mention it, afraid he’ll stop, when that’s the last thing you want.

Sometimes you feel like a black hole, desperately looking for love and touch, and sucking up whatever you can find, always needing more. You hate to think that maybe that’s what you cherish most about your friendship with Poe - that even as his friend, he touches you, and hugs you, and gives you a kiss. Although it does spark the idea of Poe being cuddly in bed, that if you ever went out with him, he would always try and have his hands on you. You allow yourself these soft dreams for a moment, before tuning back in before Poe can notice.

You’ve nearly finished your drink when the quiet background music starts to fade, and to your delight Sewinn begins to move. The crowd easily parts for him, and you wonder briefly what it is about him that makes people so responsive. What would it be like to have that kind of power?

You grasp Poe’s hand, feeling his calluses on your palm when he makes his move, pulling him to stay with you a second longer. “Wait for him to settle,” you say, knowing there’s no rush, yet.

And so you do, the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, pretending to listen to the senator’s drivel. And then he turns, looking for the trophy he’s using to make his announcement more convincing, and you pull Poe along the back wall, still holding his hand as you lean against the hidden door and allowing a grin as it clicks open.

And you’re in.

You blink in surprise when you realise it’s really been that easy. You’d expected at least a locked door to get in the way. But no, you’re standing in the Senator's office, looking at a large desk, footsteps suddenly muffled by the plush carpet and still holding Poe’s hand.

You drop it like you've been burned, not daring to look at Poe as you go to the other side of the desk. There’s bookshelves around all the walls, creating a slightly dark and gloomy look, especially in contrast with the light ballroom next door.

You start going through the drawers as Poe plugs in the holostick that he’d been given, downloading files for later reading. Most drawers contain useless information, files on drinks needed for the party, a bill for the band later, business cards and other junk. There’s one locked drawer you can’t open, even when you try and pick it.

You give it a kick in frustration when it still doesn’t open, earning a snicker from Poe. “Did that help, sweetheart?”

You scowl at him, not bothering to answer, and determined to not mention the fact that your foot really hurts now. “How long left?” you ask, deflecting instead.

“Two minutes,” is the answer and you nod, going to one of the bookshelves, hand idly tracing down a number of spines. None are in a language you recognise, and when you turn back to tell Poe so, you find him leaning against the desk and watching you. His legs seem longer at this angle, thighs … bigger. And you’ve seen this man with a harness wrapped around his legs like a second skin.

You wonder what it would be like to … You shake your head before you can finish that thought, mouth dry even as you remind yourself that Poe’s your friend. Your friend. “I can’t read any of these,” you tell him instead, watching his head snap up to meet your eyes as you talk.

And then a lot of things happen very quickly.

Before Poe can respond, the holostick beeps, he unplugs it, just as the door to the ballroom clicks open. Before you can react, he’s closing the steps between you, holostick clasped in a fist, crowding you into the bookshelf behind you. When he speaks, it’s a low, quiet, “I’m sorry,” his forearm coming to rest next to your head, and you can smell him again, eyes falling closed like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The scent is familiar and grounding, and even as your heart rate picks up, you feel calmer, Poe’s other hand holding your cheek. His head turns, your noses bumping and his lips are so close to you … he’s going to kiss you.

And then he stops, except he’s moving like he is kissing you, and you realise his hand is connecting your two faces and there’s someone else in the room, so you don’t think, you just react. You widen your legs so Poe can step between them, and you let out a breath, nearly but not quite grinding on his leg, moaning low in your throat as one of your hands flies to the nape of Poe’s neck.

“Excuse me!” The guard’s voice is sharp, and cross, which is fair enough, you later reason, when you think that you wouldn’t want to find two people snogging in your boss’s office. Awkward one to report, that.

Poe is slow to separate from you, his eyes dark when he opens them, and you're breathing embarrassingly fast considering he didn’t actually kiss you. He turns, standing just in front of you, a protective stance, whether he realises it or not.

“Sorry, sir,” his voice is more hoarse than normal, and you never realised what a good actor Poe is. You sheepishly smile at the guard who just huffs and ushers you outside, grumbling about how disrespectful the two of you are and warning you not to do it again.

The two of you stand in the hall, Sewinn just wrapping up his speech. Your head is spinning and you can’t think.

Poe seems entirely unaffected by the whole thing, winking at you as he grins, joining in with the clapping at the end of the speech. You copy him, but you feel like you’re moving at half the speed of everyone else, your whole body screaming to be surrounded by Poe again.

“Are you alright?” Poe asks you, and is it that obvious that you aren’t? You can only nod, not trusting your voice to be steady. “I’m sorry … about, in there, I just-”

“Stars, Poe.” You interrupt, not wanting to hear it. “It’s fine, it was good, quick thinking on your part.” You force a smile, and if Poe notices, he drops it. “We did it, though,” You add after a second, the silence between you somehow worse.

Poe grins, and you know you’ll be ok, the breathless, hot feeling gradually fading, your senses tuning back into the room around you, hearing the band setting up, everyone moving around you. “We did.” Is all he says, extending his hand in mock performance when the band start playing. “May I have this dance?”

You allow yourself to relax, graciously accepting it. “Why, kind sir, of course!” The two of you are giggling as you start to dance, neither of you aware of what the steps are, just concentrating on having a good time. The music isn’t particularly great; the stuffy sort that politicians think make them look classy, when really it just makes them look like pretentious assholes.

You both get bored of this pretty soon, Poe losing his jacket as the two of you get warmer and warmer, dancing ridiculously in a corner.

When your feet begin to hurt you pull on Poe’s hand, taking him away from the dancefloor. The hall is hot, and you want fresh air. You feel flushed, the cold air nice on your warm cheeks.

You’re walking along the corridor back to your room, talking about the best song you’d play to start a party. Poe’s jacket under hanging off his arms, hands stuffed in his pockets. You try not to look directly at him too much as the two of you discuss better songs. “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy is one that would definitely get everyone going.” Poe says it likes it’s the simplest thing in the world, his answer the definitive one, while you snort.

“You only think that because you want an excuse to ask everyone that all the time. No - Gimme, Gimme, Gimme is the best. Hands down.” Maybe you’re just as bad as he is. “Rasputin is another good one,” you add, “there’s dance moves and everything.”

“No!” Poe’s voice is low, exaggerating his horror by dragging out his vowels, being over-dramatic now, “the best one for dance moves is Rock the Boat.”

You ruffle his hair in that way he hates. “You like that because you can sit down!” Your laughter is interrupted when Poe’s head snaps up, looking towards the end of the corridor.

You pause, looking for the cause of the change in Poe’s attention. Hearing the voices approaching you, he grabs your hand, pulling you into an alcove, pulling the curtain across. There’s hardly room for the two of you to breathe, bodies pressed together, wall cold on your back as you listen to the footsteps coming closer.

“... and Sewinn is going to want his whores there.” A nasal voice, coming closer.

You stop breathing, glancing at Poe, who shakes his head. “The usual ones?” The question is spat by a deeper voice, while the other person presumably nods. “Fuck! They think they have more influence, always looking down on us, when Sewinn listens to us.”

Poe’s hand fumbles around yours, fingers intertwining and squeezing gently in comfort, sending electricity up your arm. The same deep voice continues down the corridor, passing you. “And he just can’t get enough of them, especially that boy with the awful fashion sense, I mean really...”

The voice fades gradually, passing you in a blur in the corner of your eye. You determinedly concentrate on looking at the fluttering curtain, a shade of blood red, suddenly too shy to look at Poe.

This mission has been a lot. Working with Poe, who you have a desperate crush on, pretending to be married, and now standing far too close for comfort while you listen to people talk complain about influence in the Senate. You can’t hold it in any longer, the two of you dissolving into giggles, bodies collapsing forwards, Poe’s jacket landing on the floor with a soft whump.

And maybe it’s the release of this tension but when you finally compose yourselves, leaning back as much as you can in the small space even though you could leave, or maybe it’s the fact that his thumb is now massaging your palm, but the words tumble out before you can think.

“Poe I like you.” He hasn’t let go of your hand yet, which is a good sign, right? But he also hasn’t said anything, so you keep talking. “Like you, like you, I mean.” Why can’t you shut up? There’s something unreadable in Poe’s eyes. “Like I would quite like to go on a date with you sometime and maybe -”

Eventually Poe stops you with his free hand, covering your mouth for a beat, enough to get you to shut up. Is he closer? You didn’t think it was possible. His face is unreadable, even as he looks into your eyes, considering something “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?”

Your mind goes blank, your mouth dropping open as Poe removes his hand, going to his tie, loosening the knot. “What?” you just manage to stammer out.

Poe just tips his head, like he’s considering the best angle to kiss you. “I like you like you too, sweetheart.” He’s teasing, but it’s fond, you realise with a rush of affection. All night he’s been looking at you like this, with fondness. “Can I kiss you?” He’s almost begging.

Words escape you. You nod, unable to breathe, unable to talk anymore. Poe leans towards you, tilting his head, eyes closed, long lashes fluttering on his cheeks. At the last second, you remember to close your eyes, kissing him back.

His hand moves to your hip, pulling you towards him, where you can feel him, already half-hard under his trousers, pressing against you. Poe slides his hand under the split in your skirt, warm hand on your skin, pulling your leg up as his hand travels down your thigh, settling into the crook of your knee, opening your legs and pulling your core closer to him.

You catch on, wrapping your leg happily around his waist, not caring how exposed you must be, gasping when you grind against him again, and Poe’s even harder now, the seam of his trousers catching on something pleasurable between your legs. You’re already more aroused than you really have any right to be, considering he’s hardly done anything to you yet, but you’ve been thrumming at a low level all evening.

You’re still kissing, even as he grinds against you, pushing you more into the wall behind you, and you feel overwhelmed, already, in the best way possible. All you can hear are your combined breaths, breathy sighs that fill the small space. You feel hot, nearly overheating, the cool wall balmy on your flushed skin behind you.

You forget where you are, what you’re supposed to be doing, Poe taking over all your senses. His tongue is in your mouth, teeth biting at your lip and all you can do is let him. Your free hand moves to his hair, tugging gently and feeling a pull of satisfaction in your core at his low groan. His hair is soft, and thick and you don’t want to let go, the sudden image of pulling on his hair when his head’s between your thighs jumping to your mind’s eye.

You finally let go of his hand so you can hold onto his shoulders, the crisp white shirt becoming crumpled in your grasp and helping you balance on one leg. Poe’s now-free hand pulls your skirt fully up around your waist, no doubt causing some creases and teases you, playing with the hem of your underwear, fingers tracing circles into your hip.

You groan into his mouth, you can feel yourself getting wetter, and your hips unconsciously buck into his hands, wanting more. When Poe pulls back, resting his forehead on yours, you’re both breathless. His eyes have blown wide, and you’re sure yours look the same. You’re panting a little, even as Poe keeps his movements regular, grinding his dick into you, moving his hips up and adjusting his position with every moan you let out.

“So good to me, sweetheart.” He’s kissing down your neck now. “You feel so good, you … urgh … you don’t even know how much you turn me on…” He sounds breathless, even as he continues to talk.

And then he surges up, hitting your clit and you can’t help it, crying out. Pleasure’s building in your body, all centred around Poe, and you want more of it, more of him. You can’t see Poe’s face, but you feel the smirk he presses to your skin as he does it again. And then his hand that’s playing with your underwear moves, pulling it away from your skin, dipping his hand down and stroking one long finger through your wet folds.

The moan you let out is broken. “Poe…” That’s all it takes for him to push his finger inside you, motioning gently towards himself. You can hear how wet you are as a second finger joins the first, a steady squelch in time with his movements. His fingers are thicker than yours are, and you feel dizzy at the thought of being stretched on his dick. His palm is grazing against your clit with every movement, steady and repetitive.

Poe’s fingers feel so good, moving inside you, gently building you higher and higher while he watches your face, kissing your jaw, your ear. Your moans come out in breathy whines, repetitions of his name, and soft oh’s of pleasure. You can only hold onto him, trusting he’ll catch you if your leg gives out, only half-aware that anyone could walk past and hear or see Poe utterly destroy you.

You start to moan more and before you even realise what’s happening, Poe’s greedily kissing you as you fall apart from his fingers. He keeps kissing you as he works you through it, your pussy clenching around his fingers, his tongue in your mouth while your hips buck forwards still.

You’d feel embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good. “Yes, by the way,” His voice is low as he moves to kiss the soft spot under your ear now. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

You can only frown as Poe removes his fingers from inside you, glistening wet and placing them on your lips, pushing gently until you open your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers, your own tart taste filling your mouth. “What?” You mumble, Poe’s digits muffling your voice.

“I’d quite like to go on date with you sometime too.”

You nod slowly, your post-orgasm haze lifting slower than normal. “Can we go to bed first?” Poe’s fingers are still half in your mouth, and you suck on the tips a little for emphasis, widening your eyes. And then you get an idea. “Or, actually,” you purr, removing your leg from Poe’s waist, and gently pushing his shoulders so he hits the wall behind him as you drop to your knees in front of him. “Maybe we should stay here for a minute.”

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

this is the suit I was imagining, but the hair was all wrong for Poe. also I know that there are technically no suits in Star Wars canon, but I wanted to write it this way so

#poe dameron #Poe Dameron x reader #poe x reader #star wars #poe dameron fanfic #poe fanfic #Star Wars fanfic

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azozzoni · 3 years

Text

I must hate myself for posting when no one reads but. Based off this giftset ‘cause I can. - Another VDS christmas fic.

Glittering lights shone against the backdrop of the main square, the scent of pine, mulled wine, and imminent snow in the air as Jens stood at the entrance of the Christmas market. In theory, it wasn’t any different from any other Christmas market Jens had visited in his life. But in reality, it was nowhere near the same.

Stalls selling everything from candles to tea to sweets and jewelry spread out before him, drawing customers like moths to a flame. Cheery Christmas songs permeated the chatter of the crowd through loudspeakers placed throughout the market and still, Jens didn’t move.

He could only stand there and think, cold hands in his pockets, wishing he’d thought to bring a hat or gloves. Wishing that he’d thought almost at all before jumping on the bus to Utrecht.

It wasn’t necessarily that he hadn’t thought. He’d been thinking about this for months. Not the Christmas market or the seemingly endless bus ride over or the impossibly happy couples milling all around him. But the way his heart jumped into his throat when he caught sight of Lucas weaving his way through the crowd.

Lucas hadn’t changed, was Jens’ first thought. Not that he had really expected him to in the few months since Jens had last seen him. Maybe his hair was a little longer, a little darker, but otherwise, he looked almost exactly the same as that last day he had come to the skatepark to say goodbye.

It was a day Jens remembered vividly, even if nothing significant had happened. There had been some slapping of shoulders on Moyo’s part, a heartfelt hug from Robbe, and an awkward embrace Jens sort of wished he could redo on his part.

It was almost as awkward as the text Jens had sent Lucas earlier, saying he would be in Utrecht later. He hadn’t even asked if Lucas was busy, relieved when Lucas had replied excitedly and told him to come to the market.

Now that he was here, watching Lucas draw closer, he couldn’t help wonder what the fuck he was doing.

Before he could go over the events that had led him to this exact spot, to jumping on the first bus he found to Utrecht without much of a second thought, Lucas was there, standing in front of him, a smile on his face, and Jens’ heart was seizing in his chest, all fluttery nerves and anxiety he hadn’t expected somehow.

“Hey,” Lucas said, softly, and it was all Jens could do to swallow down the lump rising in his throat.

“Hi,” he breathed, the word appearing in a cloud of breath in the icy night air.

Jens had had many months to imagine this particular moment—and not a single one had involved him acting like an idiot as they stood there, the Christmas market busy behind Lucas, the cold street behind Jens, as if they stood on the brink of something magical.

“It’s been a while,” he said finally, and Lucas only smiled.

It had been almost five months, Jens realized, since Lucas had told him he was moving back to Utrecht to live with his mom. They hadn’t even gotten the whole summer to hang out. Lucas had only moved to Antwerp in the spring, shown up at school one day in March, been sat next to Jens in English class and whispered the answer to the teacher’s question under his breath when Jens blanked.

That had been the beginning of a beautiful friendship, as Moyo might have mockingly called it once or twice. It had definitely been the beginning of something Jens hadn’t expected.

As he hesitated, he felt it again—the way his stomach churned like a ship at sea, a clench as Lucas’ smile quirked, gentle.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he said finally, hopeful. He hadn’t really had a plan, a thought about what he might say when faced with Lucas. He’d just known that he needed to see Lucas.

Lucas’ smile widened as he nodded. “Yeah, sure, I—”

“Luc!” Another voice interrupted him before Jens’ hopes could grow too big, a guy in a puffy white coat lumbering through the crowd to grab onto Lucas’ arm. “I need mulled wine!”

Lucas’ glance at Jens was apologetic, partially amused as he dislodged the guy from his arm. Jens wasn’t really listening to what the guy said next, some other name, a complaint about not being drunk enough.

“I’ll be right back,” Lucas said as the guy dragged him off, and Jens couldn’t complain.

He needed that minute, he thought as Lucas disappeared into the crowd. He needed that minute to get himself together. It might have been a whim coming here, but it felt as if he’d meant to do it for a while. It wasn’t just a particularly depressing day between Robbe talking nonstop about the Christmas party he and Sander were planning, Aaron and Amber always making out everywhere. Even Moyo seemed lovestruck by Noor, of all people. How had Jens become the odd one out?

Even though Lucas had moved away months ago, Jens hadn’t forgotten him. The others, they’d mentioned him once or twice, but Jens felt as if he thought about Lucas at least once a day. He was sure the others didn’t. And it had taken him a long time to figure out why.

Huddled in his jacket, Jens shook his head, glancing around at the different booths. They all seemed so cheery, brightly-lit and emanating warmth that spilled onto the people wandering between them.

“Sorry.” Lucas appeared again, slightly out of breath, as if maybe he’d hurried back. “I pawned Jayden off on someone else.”

“It’s cool.” Jens shrugged, just glad Lucas had come back. Not that he’d thought he wouldn’t.

“You want to get a drink or a waffle or something?” Lucas asked after a second, and maybe he was a little nervous too.

“I’m good,” Jens said, and Lucas nodded. There was an awkward pause for a second as Jens wished he’d come with a plan. “Maybe we could just wander around.”

“Okay,” Lucas agreed, falling into step with Jens.

It hadn’t been this awkward before, when they’d hung out practically every day in Antwerp. Their friendship had felt so easy then, as if they’d known each other forever. They’d texted since Lucas had left, maybe once or twice a week, but nowhere near as often as before.

As they passed a stand selling hot cider, Jens glanced over at Lucas, and Lucas caught his eye with a smile.

“So how are the guys?” Lucas asked after a minute, and Jens jerked his shoulders.

“The same, mostly. Moyo’s in love with Noor but she kind of hates him.”

Lucas laughed, face lighting up, and Jens had forgotten what that felt like—a punch to the gut, the sudden onset of something churning deep inside him. It had taken him far too long to figure out what that meant, and now it was even worse.

“How’s your mom?” he asked to distract himself from the way his heart thrummed in his chest. “Last time we talked, you said she was doing better.”

Lucas nodded, hands in his pockets, elbow bumping into Jens’ as they squeezed past people crowded around a booth.

“I think we finally found medication that works. And she’s going to therapy a couple times a week. She’s back to working like normal. It’s good.” He nodded again, watching Jens.

“And I guess being home doesn’t suck?”

Lucas laughed, ducking his head. “It’s nice to be back. I did miss my friends, even if they’re assholes half the time.” He glanced at Jens, pausing. “Although I don’t think I ever told you how grateful I was that you guys let me into your group so easily.”

It hadn’t been that hard to convince anyone, Jens thought. Lucas had been cool from the minute they’d met, laid-back and easy going at least on the surface.

“Nah,” he said easily, wandering with Lucas through the different stalls, not really paying attention to what they were selling. “I think they liked you better than me.”

“That’s not true,” Lucas protested, grinning, and Jens shrugged. “How’s Sander doing?”

“He’s good,” Jens said, though he wished they weren’t talking about other people. He hadn’t really come here to catch Lucas up on what was going on in Antwerp. Lucas could easily find out on his own, but the small talk was easier than forming the words that had been swirling in Jens’ brain for months, ever since Lucas left.

He hadn’t clocked it back when Lucas had first moved to Antwerp. He hadn’t even really noticed the weird way his stomach would get all jittery and anxious whenever Lucas smiled at him until months into knowing him. He’d only ever gotten those feelings with girls, and really, only with Jana.

He’d thought it might go away when Lucas left, that they’d become those friends who liked each other’s posts on Instagram and nothing else. But the texting hadn’t stopped, and the feelings deep inside Jens had clawed their way to the surface after many sleepless nights, some stealth searching for gay porn in the dead of night, some stalking of Lucas’ Insta.

They paused as they reached a small ice skating rink in the center of the market, and Jens leaned against the barrier, watching kids and their parents sliding around on the ice. He hadn’t come here just to wander around a market with Lucas.

But he couldn’t figure out how to say what he was thinking, what he’d been thinking ever since he’d left school today and gone straight to the bus station.

“So,” Lucas said after a minute, watching Jens instead of the skaters. “You just felt like coming all the way to Utrecht to see a Christmas market?”

“Why else?” Jens joked, but he took a breath as he turned to Lucas. “Can we get out of here? It’s a little crowded.”

Lucas looked surprised at the request, but he nodded. “Sure. We can get out of here.”

As they left the market, Jens following Lucas into the considerably darker streets without the cheer of the booths and lights, he let out a breath.

“Is everything okay?” Lucas asked as they walked, side by side on the narrow sidewalk. He sounded concerned, eyebrows furrowed when Jens glanced over. “It’s not your parents?”

“No,” Jens said easily, shaking his head. “I mean, they’re still fighting, but it’s what they do.” He could only hope the divorce would go through soon and they would all be able to move on.

Lucas nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced that everything was fine. The road they were following curved around a corner along a canal, street lights reflecting off the water, the windows on the buildings hung with wreaths and a few twinkly lights.

Jens was surprised when Lucas stepped off the sidewalk, over to the edge of the canal, a small patch of grass beyond the row of bicycles. He followed, settling down next to Lucas, shivering at the wind coming off the water.

“I missed you,” Lucas said after a minute, so quiet Jens almost didn’t hear.

“You did?” His heart jumped in his chest, too hopeful.

In all the months Jens had known Lucas in Antwerp, Lucas had never shown any interest in the girls who flirted with him, girls who tried to dance with him at parties, always choosing to hang out with Jens and the guys instead. Jens hadn’t thought too much of it at first—Lucas had been the new kid after all. He could have been shy. But Lucas wasn’t shy, not like that. It hadn’t been until after that Jens had wondered if there was a different reason Lucas didn’t flirt with any of the girls.

“As much as anyone can miss a jerk,” Lucas said, half a joke, knocking Jens’ shoulder, and Jens let out a breath.

“Thanks,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Through the darkness, Lucas gazed at him for a minute, and Jens had to look away.

Now that he was here, sitting next to Lucas, their knees knocking into each other, so close yet so far, Jens thought it had just been a fit of Christmas spirit madness that had brought him here. What was he expecting to happen? But if he didn’t do it now, would he ever?

“Jens,” Lucas said slowly, licking his lips, eyebrows furrowed, “Are you sure—”

It was definitely Christmas madness that seized Jens as he leaned over and kissed Lucas. It was a quick kiss, barely a peck, just long enough that he felt Lucas inhale sharply. He was back in his spot before Lucas could even blink, mouth hanging open slightly—surprised or angry or confused, Jens didn’t know.

“What,” Lucas said after a breathless second in which Jens could swear time stood still. “What was that?”

“I thought you’d know what a kiss was,” Jens joked before he could stop himself, grimacing to himself. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he be serious for once? Lucas was going to think he was just being stupid.

For a moment, Lucas didn’t reply, hands in his lap, staring at Jens and the way Jens stared at the water in turn.

He’d fucked it up, was his only thought as he stared unseeingly at the ripples in the icy water. He should have done it differently, maybe said something before he acted like a complete idiot and kissed him. It hadn’t been at all like he’d imagined—too quick, too nerve-wracking, too afraid Lucas might shove him away, into the water maybe.

Lucas’ hands on his neck, turning his face, brought him back to reality. Lucas was going to hit him, or at least tell him he had it all wrong.

But that wasn’t what happened at all with Lucas’ cold fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, a slight pressure pulling Jens to him.

This was the kiss Jens had imagined as their noses brushed together, a second before their lips did. Lucas’ lips were warm where Jens was sure his were cold, soft and lingering, almost hesitant as Lucas opened his mouth, let Jens deepen the kiss.

His hands slid to Lucas’ back, down his soft, black coat, tight around his waist as he felt Lucas inhale, press into him, chasing the slide of his lips.

Jens didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but it could have been forever. He would have been happy to stay like that forever with Lucas’ tongue against his, warm, heated breath between them, lips tingling, a smile here and there that made Jens’ heart do stupid little flip-flops in his chest every time. Lucas wanted this. Lucas wanted this. And so did Jens.

“I think my fingers are frozen,” Jens muttered as he slid down Lucas’ jaw, and Lucas laughed, quiet, pulling Jens into a hug instead.

His arms twined around Jens’ neck, secure, as if he wasn’t going anywhere, and Jens smiled at the kiss Lucas brushed to his cheek. He tightened his own grip as well, even if he could barely move his fingers. Even if his toes were numb, his cheeks red, more from Lucas’ kisses than the cold.

“I did miss you,” Lucas said again, whispered in Jens’ ear. “I thought about you all the time.”

Jens couldn’t help smiling, burying his face in Lucas’ neck as he took a deep breath, calm coming over him. “I didn’t know what to say, so…”

“You thought you’d just show up at Christmas and kiss me?” Lucas asked, pulling back finally to grin at Jens.

“It worked,” Jens pointed out, and Lucas nodded slowly.

“It did.”

Jens’ chest swelled as Lucas kissed him again, playful, gentle.

Lucas sighed as he moved back, hand falling from Jens’ neck finally, and Jens couldn’t help reaching for it.

“Your hands are cold,” Lucas said, sounding surprised, and Jens laughed.

“Well, I didn’t bring gloves.”

“Didn’t really think this through, did you?” Lucas asked, cheeky, and Jens shoved him playfully. All the nerves from before were gone, replaced with a simmering tingle of happiness filling his whole body.

“Fuck you. I came to see you. I wasn’t really thinking about anything else.”

Even in the dark, he could see the blush on Lucas’ cheeks at his words, the way he ducked his head as though embarrassed.

“Are you going back on the last train?” he asked instead, and Jens sighed. Another thing he hadn’t really considered.

“I guess so,” he said after a second, and Lucas was quiet for a minute.

Jens hadn’t really had a plan for what to do next. He hadn’t had a plan for what to do first, in all honesty. But now that they’d made it this far, now that he knew Lucas liked him to, whatever came next would just be gravy.

“You could stay at my place,” Lucas said finally, glancing up at Jens. “My mom won’t mind.”

“Really?”

Lucas nodded, warming Jens’ fingers in his. “And tomorrow’s Saturday. You could meet the guys.”

Jens hesitated. “Do they know you’re…” He certainly hadn’t told anyone about these feelings he’d been having for Lucas.

“I told them when I came back,” Lucas admitted, smiling slightly. “After I met this guy I couldn’t stop thinking about.”

“It better have been me,” Jens said, pretending to be offended when Lucas rolled his eyes.

“No, it was Sander,” he said, laughing when Jens shoved him, but Lucas didn’t let him, pulling him in for a kiss. Jens could forgive him if everything ended like this, with his heart fluttering, Lucas’ lips pressed to his. Lucas smiled as he broke away. “So can you stay?”

“I’ll tell my mom I’m staying at Robbe’s,” he murmured, anchoring his hands in Lucas’ jacket as Lucas grinned.

“Sounds like a plan.”

It did sound like a very good plan, Jens had to agree as he pulled Lucas back to his lips and kissed the smile right off it. A very good plan indeed.

#van der stoffels #wtfock #skam nl #my fic

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chessdaze · 4 years

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Three Wishes Institute - A TWST fanschool

Reposting this as I’ve changed my URL which broke all the links in my previous lore post, and since I’ve gotten a lot of new followers lately and wanted them to be able to read it properly.

First off, as a concept, Three Wishes is a fanschool for twisted wonderland that involves characters that are considered ‘side’ or ‘background’ or even ‘comic relief’ characters from disney franchises. Right now I only have 6 dorms, and characters range from being on both ‘good’ and ‘bad’ sides of a story.

Here’s the lore rundown for the main school itself and a brief summary on the dorms and characters I will be designing for them. Under readmore cause this is HELLA long and I don’t want to make people scroll for forever:

The overall story of Three Wishes:

The Headmistress and Master, Amelia Bell and Reed Dearly (based on Anita and Roger from 101 dalmatians), only recently got the school property. Before them, the school was known to be really rundown, a failure, and pretty much on the verge of closing. While it was a school for magic, it was like all the magic was zapped out of the school itself. It was filled with delinquents and very few students who actually cared. Most dropped out if anything.

Amelia was a teacher at the school for a little over a year and the only teacher that students really respected and bothered showing up to class for. She hated seeing the school in the state it was in and tried pleading with the headmistress of the school to try and change things - however was constantly told it was too late and that the school would be closing. It did, and Amelia had to look for jobs elsewhere. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she could have done more and found herself drawn back to the crumbling school on more than one occasion. She decided to sneak in one day to see if she could find a hint of anything from the old headmistress - who had disappeared without a trace - to see if she could get in contact with her. This wasn’t her idea of course, but her (boyfriend at the time) Reed’s.

Eventually they did track down the headmistress and found her terribly ill. Amelia insisted that the two of them care for her, despite all that the headmistress had done to shun Amelia beforehand. They did, and during that time Amelia explained the hopes she had previously had for the school - she said how she wanted a school that anyone could feel welcome to apply, and not have some special ceremony for acceptance (like the carriages for NRC). She believed people could be equals and that as a magical community they should all help one another. The old headmistress was moved by Amelia’s words and when she back to health she revealed herself to be a powerful sorceress (the enchantress from Beauty and the Beast. No design as of now). She explained she had been looking for a worthy successor for the school and her magic but didn’t find Amelia fitting at the time, but saw the kindness in Amelia’s heart and offered her the deed to the school and the surrounding grounds. She wanted to see what Amelia would do with the school and was interested if she could really bring a community together like she explained. Then, she disappeared.

Amelia and Reed worked to renovate the school, taking nearly 2 years on the project. Amelia comes from a wealthy family, but even then funds were not endless, so a lot of fundraising was done to also raise awareness for the reopening school. At first there wasn’t much interest but it slowly got more and more traction. With donations and family money, they were able to complete the school. The two of them also got engaged during this time. Even with them rebuilding the mainschool and doing some maintenance on the dorms themselves, there are some secrets that even the two of them are still learning, as the sorceress took off before giving them the full details on the school itself.

The school’s aim is to not only teach its students magic, but the foundation of being a good person, being helpful and selfless. The school holds a lot of community and fundraising events, and there is even a mandatory volunteering class where students have to spend a certain amount of hours volunteering for a local community service. This school hopes to bridge the gap between the elite and average magic users, showing that deep down everyone is human and deserving of respect and a chance to grow.

This school doesn't have completely different areas for the dorms and it's all actually located on a large campus ground.The main school building is about 4 stories, there's a greenhouse and an auditorium in separate buildings.

The dorms are all two or three stories and are all relatively distant from each other, enough to give each dorm a good spot of land around it. Think a mansion with a large yard. When passing through the front gate for the dorm there's magic that makes it appear in a slightly different scenery - so the students don't always have the school looming in the background and can relax. The dorm's scenery is different between each dorm and it can change with each 'dorm representative'.

There aren't really dorm 'leaders' as there are representatives. Normally about two or three for each dorm - though can only be one if the person proves themselves to be capable / no one else is voted. Each dorm will have a meeting once a month to go over things that the dorm needs to address either internally or with the school or other dorms, and then the representatives bring those concerns to a meeting with the school's staff and other dorm representatives. Think more like a student council and class presidents. The representatives make almost all decisions together. Reps are voted for each year within a dorm, and the voting is taken pretty seriously.

The dorm rep duties outside of the meetings is mostly just like a college RA. They make sure people are following the rules, help solve problems between students in their dorm, plan and hold events, etc.

The dorms:

While students are separated into dorms in this school, the headmaster and mistress try to stress the fact that they are all one community. Friendly rivalry is encouraged but ultimately the matter of dorms is just where the students end up living and placing them near people who can better help those around them. The two in charge don’t want the dorms to become too competitive or to alienated from one another - so there’s actually a lot of cross dorm events and even friends staying over at other friends dorms for days on end at times.

As a note, as long as it’s not inappropriate, students are encouraged to wear anything they want as their ‘dorm uniform’. Standard school uniforms are required on the main campus but as Headmaster Reed puts it - there’s no reason for them to tell the students what to wear in their own house. Plus, the school isn’t as well funded as most other private schools, so not having a lot of uniforms to keep up with is better for them in the long run. They don’t even have a formal ceremonial robe like NRC does, but I will be posting about the uniforms in a different post.

Now onto the dorms themselves.

Cinderella dorm: Nightingale Founded on the hard work and dedication of a princess’s companions, members of this dorm are no strangers to teamwork and getting the job done. It’s said that there’s no miracle students in this dorm can’t pull off in a short amount of time. Members of this dorm are close and they will drop anything they’re doing to help another.