#like did they send him to school and maybe also therapy?

[aranciu]

POV: you never had time to mourn the loss of your dad sensei and now you just casually hang out with the younger alternate version of him

[yanaromanov]

in unholy denial

･ ｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

summary: you’re the perfect all-american girl; a good student, a weekly churchgoer, you’re even dating the high school quarter back. so it’s all a big shock to you when your family decides to send you to a conversion camp, claiming they believe you’re a lesbian. you don’t agree with their accusation, telling everyone that you don’t like girls at all. but then you meet your camp mate wanda maximoff, who seems determined to sway your mind in another direction…

warning(s): conversion therapy, homophobia (externalised and internalised), religious mentions (christianity), smut, fingering, thigh riding, loss of virginity, hickeys, slight dubcon (only kissing), swearing, pet names (princess, honey), wanda and r are in high school but of age (over 18), cheating (r has a bf), slightly innocent reader, nude magazine, etc. minors dni

author’s note: this is my first time writing and uploading smut so i really hope it’s not terrible 🙏🏻this is heavily inspired by ‘but i’m a cheerleader’, only this time it’s with teenage wanda and much more smutty :) i also took light inspiration from @imaginedanvrs and her fic ‘atonement’, and though i did take a different turn, check it out because all of their writing is amazing :))

wc: 11.7K words

The car is quite on the ride up. You stare out the window, watching as your world begins to disappear. The camp is just under two hours away from your home town; far away enough that it feels like a whole different world, but close enough that your parents can still come visit on the weekends.

You’re not being punished. At least that’s what your parents have told you. They just want what’s best for you, want to help you find the right journey in life. Apparently this camp was supposed to do that for you. Though, you could quite see how - the apparent problem they claim to be able to fix, not identifiable to any part of your mind.

When they’d first brought up the idea, you’d been quick to confusion. A conversion therapy camp? But you weren’t gay. You had a boyfriend, the football team’s best quarterback at that, and you two were very happy together. He was handsome and kind, and you loved him. Except for maybe when he tried to kiss you, always left feeling grossed out by the encounter as his tongue tried to play with yours. But he must just be a bad kisser. That was at least what you always told yourself…

Aside from that, there were so many things that couldn’t have possibly lead your parents to believe you were gay. You were one of the top students at school, always getting the highest grades. Every Sunday you attended church, said your nightly prayers each evening before you slept. You were in the church choir, for goodness sake!

Still, your parents had sat you down in the living room one night and had a very serious conversation with you. They were concerned mostly, worried that something sinister had crept in and was tainting your life. You’d used all of your excuses in protest but they’d came prepared with their own.

A few posters from your room, filled with woman in bikini tops. You liked the patterns. Songs from your playlist that held ulterior meaning. You just liked the way they sound. The fact you hated kissing your boyfriend; a few comments you’d made to your friends about other girls at church. You thought everyone felt that way…

In the end, they’d convinced you to come along to the program, claiming it was in your best interest to attend and get the help you need. Although you didn’t believe you needed any help at all, you had agreed. If this camp was going to help them feel better, you were willing to give it a go, even if it meant getting treatment for a nonexistent problem…

Still, your heart aches a little as your small family car drives away from the suburbs you are used to, the view soon replaced by dense forest trees and vibrant undergrowth. The program was set out almost like a Summer camp, out near a lake where members could swim during their free time. That was one of the activities you’d read in the pamphlet your parents had handed you, the camp explained in its entirety alongside its promise to guarantee positive results. You’d initially asked your parents how long you would have to spend there, worried about being forced to remain when there wasn’t a problem with you to begin with, but your mom had simply smiled back softly and replied, ‘let’s just see how you get on’.

You’re almost lost in thought when the car finally turns on to the last stretch of its journey. The sight ahead of you drags you back to the present moment, eyes now searching the wide opening in the trees as the camp comes into view. It’s easy to spot, the only buildings around for a long while, and the white shutters standing out vibrantly against the green trees. The lake comes into view too, shimmering in the morning summer sun.

Soon the car slows, coming to a halt outside what looks to be the main building, its size large compared to the other’s dotted around. The ranch-style house is painted a soft blue, the fixtures and wrap-around porch shining dazzling white. All in all, it looks rather beautiful.

Your parents are the first out the car, looking around as they close the doors. You follow a moment later, eyes drifting over your surroundings as you inhale the sweet smells of the forest air. A pair of footsteps soon diverts your attention, your gaze falling to a tall blonde man making his way in your direction from the large blue house. He’s dressed very similarly to the men you see at church; a pair of neat navy slacks and a matching blue and white gingham shirt. You and your parents come to stand together on one side of the car just as he reaches your feet.

“Good morning,” the blonde says, his grin reaching from ear to ear. “Mr and Mrs Y/L/N, isn’t it?” There’s an exchange of hand shakes as your parents confirm his assumption. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And you must be young Y/N.” His gaze falls to you as he speaks, a hand outstretching in your direction.

You take it, shaking it gently as you nod your head. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

The blonde lets out a low chuckle as he releases your hand, his attention turning back to your parents. “What a polite little girl you have,” he says, his smile widening. Your parents seem to take pride in his compliment, inching closer together as they stand and look over at you. “But please,” the man continues, turning back to you. “My name is reverend Steve so you can call me as such. Or just Steve if you prefer.” He smiles again as he shrugs his shoulders. “Sir always feels a bit too formal.”

There’s a trade of small laughter between the adults but you don’t find yourself joining in, still feeling a little apprehensive about this whole scenario.

“I do hope your journey here was alright.”

“Oh, just fine,” your father replies in response to reverend Steve’s question, smiling easily back at him.

“Good. I’m so glad to hear that. We’re just so happy to have Y/N here. And don’t worry, your daughter is in very good hands.”

Just at that moment, you notice another figure approaching your group, a woman, originating from the same place Steve had. When she reaches you, there’s a soft smile on her face, her red hair dazzling in the Summer sun. The reverend reaches one of his arms out, bringing the woman close to his side as his hand rests on her hip. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Natasha. She helps direct things around here, especially with the girls.”

Her hand also extends out to your parents to meet in a soft handshake as she smiles widely back at them. “Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” With your parents, reciprocating the sentiment, the redhead then turns her attention to you. Her eyes sparkle a bright shade of green as the morning sun hits them. “Hello, Y/N,”

You find yourself momentarily stumbling over your words, something about the woman distracting you until she speaks. “Good morning,” you manage eventually, smiling back nervously.

In the time you’ve greeted her, it seems your parents have retrieved your luggage from the back of the car. “These are your bags?” Reverend Steve asks, reaching to pick them up. In truth, you hadn’t even noticed them being moved there. “I’ll just take these up to your dorm room, Y/N.” He smiles once more at you before he turns, walking towards the house with your belongings in tow.

“I’ll give them a little check over once we get there,” Natasha says, drawing your attention back to her. She passes you a playful wink that causes a strange feeling in your chest. “But I’m sure there’s nothing in there that will get you in trouble, hm?”

“I don’t think-“ Your response is cut off by your sudden realisation you’re standing alone, your parents retreating back to the car and already starting the engine. “Wait I-“

“Don’t worry.” The redhead’s words yet again distract you, pulling your attention away from the vehicle behind you. “They’ll be back at the weekend to visit. You’ll be seeing them again in no time.” Natasha turns to stand side by side with you, her hand resting on your back as she gently begins to press you forwards. “Now how about you just come with me and I can show you around the place. How does that sound?”

“A-alright,” you stumble, giving one glance back to the car that has already pulled away from the camp. You let the woman by your side guide you as you watch it slowly move further and further away up the road, officially leaving you all alone.

The tour Natasha gives you, however, helps to lift your spirits a little. The camp grounds are rather beautiful, the grass vibrant and speckled with small colourful flowers. The buildings themselves are also very pleasant, all adding to the soft summer camp feel the area had. Natasha first directs you to the small bunker home her and Steve resided in, claiming members were not allowed inside but there was a small bell if you ever needed them at any time. Next, she shows you the church; a small yet grand building with dazzling stained glass windows. As you walk the pews, Natasha tells you how their service is held each morning, directed by Steve himself.

“I hear you’re in your church choir?” Natasha quips as you take in the way the light hits the windows, spreading bright colours across the floor of the building.

“Yes,” you reply, lifting your head and smiling sheepishly. “I have been since I was thirteen.”

“You’ll have to sing for us one time,” Natasha says playfully, before beckoning you out of the church and off to your next destination. On your way, she explains a little of how their program works; a mixture of group lessons and singular sessions to help you understand your problem. “Do you still attend bible study, Y/N?” Natasha asks as you approach the main building.

Shyly, you turn to face her. “No. I stopped a few years ago when I turned sixteen.”

The redhead clicks her tongue but overall doesn’t seem too disappointed, still smiling over you. “Don’t worry,” she replies. “I’m sure our study will set you just right again.” She passes you another wink before you step in through another door that she opens ahead of you.

The building has a wide front opening, a set of grand stairs set out ahead in the expanse of the tall ceilings. At the bottom of them, you suddenly notice a tall girl standing there. She’s wearing a neat uniform, her long black hair pulled back into two braids. “Y/N,” Natasha says, gesturing towards the girl. “I’d like you to meet Kate. She’ll be your mentor while you settle in.”

The raven-hair girl smiles at you as she extends a hand. You shake it, sharing a quick greeting before she hands you a welcome packet. Natasha explains how all of the rules are written inside, alongside a list of other expectations and your schedule for your stay. You hold on to it against your chest as the pair walk you around the house on your continued tour.

Inside of the main building, it feels somewhat like a mixture of a house and a school. There are two classrooms, both filled with a set of students learning from a tutor at the front of the class. A large dining hall was also set up, functioning like a school canteen. Downstairs there were a few recreational spaces with small couches arranged around card tables, all littered with various bible verse posters along the walls. As you move upstairs, Natasha shows you the bathrooms and the couple isolation rooms they had, though she assured you, you most likely wouldn’t be spending any time in there.

“Now, let’s get you some uniform, hm?” Natasha says, moving further down the corridor. She opens a long cupboard, filled with rows of pleated skirts and crisp white shirts. She looks through the rails before handing you a set of uniform in your size. Her and Kate then give you some privacy in the cupboard to change while they step outside.

The uniform is light blue, the skirt pleated through with lines of navy. The sweater vest is a matching dark blue, the logo of the camp embroidered onto one breast. You pull it on over the white button shirt, followed by the long white socks and black patent shoes Natasha had also provided. When you step out of the cupboard, the older woman takes hold of your old clothes, claiming she’ll take care of them for you until you’d be needing them again. You’re not entirely sure what she means but she’s continuing on with the tour once more before you can truly give it much thought.

“These are the girl’s dormitories,” the redhead says as she opens another door, guiding you inside. As you step in, you notice two rows of small cots, lined up with matching pink floral bedsheets. You notice one on the end, your bags sat atop waiting for you. But what catches your eye even more, is the brunette girl splayed across one of the middle beds, a magazine between her hands. She looks up as all three of you walk into the room, her green eyes meeting directly with you.

“Miss Maximoff,” Natasha says as soon as she notices the girl. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your lessons right now?”

The girl diverts her gaze to the camp director. “I didn’t feel well so I came to lie down.”

The way the girl lay across her stomach, face perfectly amused as her eyes flitted across her magazine didn’t exactly come across to you as unwell. It seems that Natasha too picks up on her lie, simply passing the brunette a small scowl. “Nice try.”

There’s a moment where the girl stares back, almost daring the women with her gaze, but she soon gives up, instead rolling her eyes as a long frustrated sigh escapes her lips. “Fine,” she mumbles, lifting herself up from the bed and slowly walking towards you. As she does, you notice how her shirt is unbuttoned further down and how her skirt is rolled at her waist, climbing the front of her thighs.

Natasha seems unfazed by her antics, simply holding out her hand which the brunnete places her magazine into with another sigh. The redhead gives it a once over before staring back at the girl. “This is contraband. Where did you find it?”

The brunette simple smirks in response. Her shoulders briefly brushes against yours as she squeezes her way through your group, headed towards the door. Before she leaves, she turns, walking gently backwards as the smirk widens on her face. “The Lord showed me the way to it.” She turns again quickly, disappearing from the dormitory alongside her lingering gaze.

Natasha doesn’t make any move to follow her, simply inclines her head as as she shouts down the corridor. “Roll down your skirt, Miss Maximoff!” Her voice still echoing, the redhead then turns back to you, that perfect smile returning almost as quickly as it at dropped. “I’m so sorry about that,” she says, glancing down at you. “Some of the other girls are a little…challenged in finding the light. Sometimes they can be a bad influence but I’m sure if you just stick with Kate, you’ll be just fine.”

You glance at the tall girl stood beside you, her soft grin looking back. “If you have any questions, feel free to ask Kate. Or of course, me or Steve at any point,” Natasha adds, drawing your attention back to her. You nod in response and she smiles back, placing a hand on to your shoulder. “Now, how about we take a look at your bags?”

———

Settling in isn’t as hard as you thought it might be. Kate is nice, you discover quickly, and helps you get unpacked. You tuck your things away into the drawers under your bed, then some more of your belongings in to the bedside table - next to the complementary bible you find tucked inside. Kate explains you can put up some photos with blue tac if you wish, pointing out to some of the other girls’ beds who have done the same. You borrow some of said blue tac from her as you stick a photo of your family alongside one of you and your boyfriend up on to the wall.

Afterwards, Kate sits with you while you look through your welcome packet. A lot of it relates to the pamphlet your parents had given you before your arrival, talking all about the camp and its methods of tackling what they phrase, ‘the misdirection of youths towards homosexuality’. The entire idea is still a little scattered in your head, but you brush it aside as you delve further into the rules and scheduling of the camp.

There are quite a few rules written down, a lot of which you recognise from your own home regulations. No curse words are to be used, nor any other inappropriate language. The Lord’s name must not be used in vain. Members must pray before each meal and every night before bed. Uniform must be worn at all times.

Then there are other rules that make you feel a little more uncertain. There is strictly NO fraternising between members. No member is permitted in the opposite dormitory to which they are assigned. Any inappropriate belongings will be confiscated.

The last rule makes you wonder back to the girl you’d seen sat inside the dormitory. There have been something ‘inappropriate’ about her magazine, obviously leading to the confiscation by Natasha. You weren’t quite sure what about it could be so bad, the name you’d glanced at briefly unrecognisable before Natasha had quickly stashed it away from your sight. If anything, the whole ordeal had only made you more curious about the strange girl and what exactly she had been reading.

As if the universe could hear your thoughts, it’s barely a few hours later when you collide with the girl once more. It’s lunch time, Kate and you just having sat down with your plates of food after she’d explained how they were set out each meal time. The dining room is filling up, all of the other camp members filing in to take their place at differing tables. It’s as your inspecting the meal in front of you that a very particular member sets herself down in front you.

“Hey, newbie.”

Your head raises from the table as you hear the voice, looking up to meet the same pair of green eyes that you recalled from earlier. The brunette stares back at you, a small smile playing at her lips as she watches your face. “Uh…hi?”

You don’t get to say much more before Kate is speaking up, leaning over the table with a scowl. “Get lost, Maximoff. We don’t want you to sit with us.”

The brunnete turns to look at the other girl, a frown of her own appearing between two perfect brows. “Loosen up, Bishop. I just wanted to say hello to our newest addition.” As she finishes, her eyes trail back to you, the scowl dropping away to that same smirking expression. For a moment it seems as if she looks you up and down, scanning over your uniform before studying your face again. “I’m Wanda,” she says eventually, voice light. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You smile back a little awkwardly, torn between your polite nature and the instructions you had received to avoid this exact girl sat opposite you. “Y/N,” you reply, letting your manners overtake the situation.

“Just go away, Wanda,” Kate butts in suddenly, her voice raised. “I’m her mentor, not you.”

The brunette screws up her face as she turns to the raven-haired girl, scoffing under her breath. “God Kate, you’re so fucking uptight.” She sighs loudly as she pushes herself up from the table. As she does, you notice how her skirt is still rolled at the waist. But you don’t settle on it too long, distracted as she begins to speak again. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” Wanda says, her voice playful once more. Her eyes train on you for just a moment as she backs away from the table, another girl soon taking her place.

“Just ignore her,” Kate grumbles over to you. She begins to list a string of complaints about the girl but doesn’t get far, soon interrupted by Reverend Steve calling for grace at the front of the room. You bow your head as he begins to pray, clasping your hands under your chin just as you did with every meal you ate at home. A chorus of ‘amens’ rings out as the prayer finishes, all heads lifting once more to begin eating their lunch. As you lift yours, your gaze briefly flashes across the room, catching across the way, a pair of green eyes staring back at you. Wanda sits smirking, but you don’t see much else, quickly finding yourself flustered and looking away, turning your concentration instead to the plate of food sat in front of you.

———

Natasha’s office is very nice. That’s your first thought when you enter through the door, guided by her hand on the base of your spine. There are a few wide windows on one wall, white shutters open to give a view of the lake just down a grassy hill. Her desk sits in one corner, a plush vibrant chair close by, then across the way, a small couch. There are shelves littered with both plants and framed pictures, most depicting some sort of bible verse.

You sit yourself down on the sofa while Natasha settles in her chair beside her desk, pulling out a notebook as she turns to face you. There’s an exchange of pleasantries as she explains exactly how these private sessions will go and how anything you say is entirely confidential. You nod, sitting rather folded in on yourself, uncertainty still coursing through your body.

“So Y/N,” Natasha says eventually, crossing her legs over the other. “To start off, why don’t you tell me a little bit about the first time you experienced homosexual tendencies.”

The request is one that leaves you stumbling a little. “Oh I- well…” You swallow, landing on the same response you’d had every time your parents had suggested the idea. “I’m not actually gay. Everyone just thinks that I am.”

Natasha’s face changes, taking on a soft but curious expression. “And why do you say that?”

“Well I’m not,” you reply. “I don’t- I don’t like girls. I have a boyfriend.”

That fact alone seemed enough to you for this whole endeavour to be needless. You didn’t like girls, couldn’t like them. You and your boyfriend had been going strong for over two years. He was handsome, funny, and you were sure you loved him. Even if you did feel slightly disgusted every time his lips touched yours…

“Listen Y/N,” Natasha says, her voice calm. “I know this whole experience can seem a little daunting but we’re here to help you, okay?” She smiles softly, the intention of her words feeling truthful. “But the first step of your journey needs to be your admittance to your problem.”

It isn’t that you don’t feel comfortable telling Natasha about your problem, in fact you actually feel a strange warmth in your stomach whenever she talks to you, but in your mind, there was no problem to begin with. “I’m not gay.”

Natasha sighs at your answer. She adjusts herself in her seat, her soft gaze looking back at you. “Think about it like this; homosexuality is like a disease. These thoughts weave their way into your mind, changing your behaviour.” The redhead raises a set of perfect brows. “But we can’t begin to heal if we don’t have a proper diagnosis. Can’t administer the right treatment if we can’t admit we’re ill, right?”

Her analogy isn’t lost on you, somewhat similar to something you’d heard your pastor say back at your home church. “Yeah…I guess that makes sense.”

“Now what you’re experiencing can be fixed,” Natasha continues. “I’ve seen it fixed many times before. You can heal Y/N, break away from this and find the light of our good lord.” With his name, Natasha glances up to the cross hanging on the wall beside you. Your eyes follow too. “Don’t you want that?”

You turn back to the woman, your voice sounding small. “Of course I do.”

Natasha smiles. “That’s good.” She rearranges herself again, adjusting to hold her notebook and pen better. “Now, could you maybe tell me first time you can remember ever having thoughts about other women?”

“I don’t-I haven’t,” you stumble. “I don’t think about them like that.”

Like that. It was a phrase you’d repeated like a mantra in your head. You didn’t want a girlfriend, you didn’t want a girl to kiss you. You thought about girls the same way everyone else did. Sure, sometimes your eyes would fall to their ass when they walked to the front of class, or perhaps you got a bit hot and bothered in the changing rooms before gym, maybe even your favourite movie scene was the one where all the girls would go to the beach and play in the water. But that was what everyone else thought too…right?

“Alright,” Natasha says, sighing again. “I can see you’re really struggling with this, but that’s okay. I’m here to help you.” She smiles. “How about we take a little look at your family history, hm? See if that can get things kickstarted for us?”

You spend the rest of your session talking about your family. Natasha asks about extended members, questioning about any problems there may be down your blood line. But as far as you know, it all comes up clean, your entire family the same good Christian folks you’ve always known them to be.

Finding nothing of interest, Natasha moves on to talk about your childhood. She asks about your time at school, how long you’d attended church, what sort of friends you had. It’s all scribbled down on the notebook in her hand as you list off answers, all the perfect idiom of what a good Christian girl should be.

By the end of your session, you’ve spoke about almost everything that’s led you up to where you are now. Natasha asks again about your feelings towards women, trying to compare the reasons your parents sent you here to real acts of homosexuality. But all in all, it’s no use. At the end of the hour, you’re still in denial, refusing any accusation of your alleged problem. Thankfully, Natasha doesn’t seem angry, still smiling softly as you leave her office. She send you away with an assignment to think about what could be your ‘root’, what she terms the initial source of your unholy thoughts, determined once you figure this out, it will begin your journey to sanctuary.

———

The next few days pass by without much excitement. You begin to settle into your lessons, listening as a few ex-members of the program give speeches of their experiences, or as Steve talks about how God can help give meaning to your life. There are group therapy sessions you attend, though mostly sit quietly through, but listen while others talk about their own experiences and thoughts. It’s in them you notice a certain person who seems to stare at you from across the room. You try to avoid making eye contact but it seems each time you glance over, Wanda’s stare is trained on you.

Following what Natasha had said when you first arrived, you tried to stick to Kate’s side as much as possible, avoiding the other girl who seemed to look at you more often than not. When you weren’t in lessons you could avoid her, instead hanging around with Kate and her friends in the recreational spaces, sometimes watching one of the approved DVDs that lay beneath the TV. At meals, your group sits together, always saying your prayers before eating your food. But it seems even there you can’t escape the strange brunette, always catching her stare from across the room. It’s only in bible study, on the day that marks a week since your arrival, that you actually get to speak to her again.

Kate was sick today. She’d caught a head cold, presumably from her parents who came to visit her at the weekend. You had also had a visit, your mother and father asking every possible question about your stay and how you were finding camp. The visit had went well, but now a few days later you were left with no mentor to guide you throughout your day. It isn’t too much of a worry in your mind though, the layout and scheduling of the camp already becoming a familiar routine to your body. But what you aren’t used to, is a certain strange individual sitting in the seat where your mentor usually sat.

You don’t notice it is Wanda at first. Feeling the body slide against yours on the bench, your first thought is perhaps that Kate has made a miraculous recovery. But when you turn to face the individual and are met with piercing green eyes, you are certainly even more surprised. “Um,” you fumble, looking back at the brunette as you try to stumble for words. “That’s Kate’s seat.”

Wanda raises a brow, her head spinning to look around the room before it returns to you. “I don’t see her.” She smirks. “Besides, no seating arrangements, right?”

Technically she is correct. There is nothing actually stopping her from sitting beside you apart from your slight aversion to interacting with her. You slide your body away a few inches to the right, shifting away from the touch Wanda had initiated as she sat down a little to close. The brunette seems to notice, glancing down at the gap now settled between you, but she doesn’t say anything about it, instead just looking up at you as she flashes a set of white teeth. “So Y/N,” she begins, rolling your name easily over her tongue. “Where are you from?”

“Not far,” you reply, still inclined to politeness even with your anxiety around the interaction. You elaborate further, telling her the name of your town just two hours north of the camp.

Wanda hums at your response then crosses her legs on the bench. You try not to notice the way her rolled skirt flashes a pair of smooth pale legs. “I’m from down south,” she says. “Further than you, though. About six hours. My parents only come to visit about once a month.”

You met her eye as you try to think of a response, but before you can, you’re being interrupted. Reverend Steve calls out at the front of the class, silencing everyone so that he can begin calling the register. As names echo out across the room, you and Wanda’s conversation dies, but the soft warmth emanating from her body close to yours, does not leave for the rest of the lesson.

Having quit bible study over three years ago, you were a little worried you wouldn’t be able to keep up, but as Kate had told you last week, some of these kids had never even been to church, so the pace was definitely slow enough for you to follow along. The story Steve told today was one you knew rather well actually, one of the most prominent ones you could recall from your early teens. Still, you pay the upmost attention throughout the entire time he talks, eyes trained on his figure at the front of the classroom. What makes that a little difficult however, is the girl sat right beside you.

Wanda is easily distracted you notice quickly, constantly fidgeting with the pen in her hand - your pen actually, borrowed by the brunette when she claimed she had forgotten her own. You sit a little in shock as she casually graffitis the open bible sat upon the desk in front of her, mindlessly drawing squiggles and random shapes into the margin. You try your best to ignore her antics but it’s a little hard when she accidentally tosses her pen across the desk, following a failed attempt to spin it around her fingers. It lands over on your side, just to the right of your own bible. You go to reach for it to hand back to her but it seems she’s already moving before you can even get the chance.

Her body lifts slightly from the bench, stretching out across the table with one arm for her lost pen. As she does, her chest is brought closer to your face. Your eyes fall on the black cross hanging around her neck, then suddenly dip lower, catching the area of her shirt where her buttons are undone further than they should be. There’s the briefest of moments where your eyes linger there, passing over the ever so slightly visible cleavage that swells on her chest, but it’s less than seconds later you’re darting away. Wanda eventually picks her pen back up, after what feels like an eternity, and pulls back in her chair. You glance momentarily over at her, then quickly return to the bible open in front of you, trying your best to follow along with the passage Steve reads aloud while ignoring the strange sensation that has settled in your lower stomach.

———

Camp isn’t quite the way you imagined it to be. Before you arrived, you thought it would be entirely awful, like a prison only with more…God. But for most of your experience, it just feels like you’re back in school. Although, now your lessons about maths or science are replaced by those about God and the way into his heart. Just over two weeks in, you’ve picked up the swing of things quite nicely, falling into an easy routine as you move through the services and lessons with ease. The one thing you just can’t quite seem to grasp is the understanding of why you’re here in the first place.

You’ve had three private sessions now with Natasha, each of them as feeble at finding a change as the last. You’re still not ready to admit your problem, as Natasha puts it, reluctant to find the issue within yourself. But as you’ve said since before you even came, it’s a simple fact you aren’t gay. Natasha seems determined in her ways to make you see something different.

She’s handed you a book, walking out from your last session. The title reads, ‘My Sexuality and Me: Finding the Root of Homosexual Tendencies’. You’re tasked with reading it before your next session in hopes it might finally help you understand your own thoughts. For now, however, it has to wait. Leaving your session, you go up to the dorm to drop it by your bed, taking just a moment before you have to head to your next organised activity.

The camp helps run on a set of scheduled chores that the members have to carry out. It’s on a rota, something Kate had shown you on your very first day, and changes each week. There’s everything from weed picking to cleaning dishes, all work that helps to keep the camp in shape for everyone staying there. Reverend Steve mentioned something about the work ethic helping everyone be grateful for what the lord had given them.

You have to go down to check the rota, forgetting what was scheduled for you this week. Most of the others are already dotted around the camp doing their chores, apparently your one-on-one session running over slightly and causing you to be a little late. You make your way down the stairs to the main room where the rota is located, pinned into a notice board on the wall. But as you turn the corner at the bottom of the stairs, you notice that you are in fact, not alone.

Wanda turns almost immediately when you round the corner. She’s stood up against the notice board, back resting upon the wall with one foot lifted against it. A smile appears on her face as you come into view, her teeth shining around the piece of pink bubblegum she chews. “Hey, princess.”

You try not to scoff at the name - an endearment the brunette had coined after seeing you one night writing in your diary about your boyfriend, claiming you were like a locked away princess longing for her prince to come save her. You’d rolled your eyes at her comment at the time, and had to deal with its return each time you’d bumped into her in the past week. Now, you try to ignore it as you walk past her and stare up at the notice board trying to find the chore schedule. However, Wanda is speaking again before you even get the chance to locate it.

“Looks like it’s you and me this week.” You glance over at her, watching as a pink bubble forms at her lips. You want to ignore her teasing, looking back to the board to locate where you would be stationed, but when your eyes fall upon the schedule, you realise she is right. Written on the notice board, right below the date of the beginning of the week is your and Wanda’s name, then below it; house duty.

You turn back to look at her, a pair of green eyes glinting your way. For a moment you think there’s some kind of mistake. After all, you had always been with Kate before. But then, not far away from yours is indeed Kate’s name written, not on house duty, but on pantry organisation.

Wanda smirks as she rolls the gum in her mouth, eyes fixated on you as she blows another bubble. When it pops, she finally speaks again. “You’ve never done house duty, have you?”

She’s right. You’re in unfamiliar territory and you don’t have your usual mentor to help guide you. “No,” you reply simply, gently shaking your head.

Wanda breathes out a laugh, throwing her head back slightly as she drops her leg from the wall. “Come on, princess,” she says teasingly, walking to close the gap between you. “I’ll guide you.”

Her hand is reaching for yours before you can protest against it. Soft skin slips into yours, gripping hold and quickly dragging you down the corridor. You stumble slightly, surprised by the whole encounter but Wanda doesn’t seemed fazed. She simply pulls you along the hall like a lost puppy. When your brain restarts from the initial shock, you look down at the way your fingers are grasped between hers. It’s a simple interaction at its core, an innocuous hand hold as she shows you the way to go. You’d done the same thing with your own friends back home many of times, but something about this one feels a little different. Something about the way her soft skin is warm against yours creates an odd fuzz in your head.

“Here we are,” Wanda announces, suddenly dropping your hand. You try not to think about the way it now feels cold as you watch her reach for a door handle. It opens to a cupboard, full of what looks like cleaning supplies. “We basically just dust everything,” the brunette continues, turning back to look at you. “Just dust and vacuum the floors in every room in the house. Oh- but not the bathroom, someone else will be doing those.”

You find yourself nodding, the task seeming simple enough. You’d dusted plenty of times at home, this couldn’t be any different.

Wanda lets out another laugh, seemingly at your immediate obedience to follow through with your task. “Alright, princess,” she says, cracking her gum. She reaches in to the cupboard, picking up a cloth and a bottle of disinfect spray. “I’ll do upstairs, you do downstairs?”

There isn’t much room for objection even if you had any, Wanda already beginning to walk away with the cloth thrown over one of her shoulders. You reach down to grab similar materials, standing back up to watch her figure moving down the corridor. “Stop calling me that!” You call out, but the girl is gone before your sentence is even finished, the protest seemingly falling on deaf ears. A sigh escapes your lips as you close the cupboard door, determined to just ignore the other girl while you begin your designated chore.

You start with the class rooms, wiping each desk with the spray and then dusting the other surrounding surfaces. You quickly find nothing was too dirty, the uphold from the other members ensuring the work wasn’t too difficult. You move next to the dining hall, then the recreational spaces, your cloth picking up any small specks of dust that have come to rest on the furniture and surfaces. When you’ve wiped down each room, you return to the cupboard for the vacuum you’d spied earlier. It’s older than the one you have at home but easy enough to work, quickly making light work of vacuuming the entire bottom floor.

It’s probably half an hour later when you finish, at least that’s the guess you make without a watch. You tidy away the cleaning supplies back into the cupboard before doing a quick inspection of everything to make sure you haven’t missed anything. Satisfied everything is clean, you turn your attention to your missing task partner. You haven’t seen Wanda once, barely even heard her moving upstairs. So, devoid of what else to do, you decide to head up to check if she needed any help.

You check a few rooms before you find her, the closest spaces absent of her presence. It’s only when you open the door to the girls dormitory that you finally see her. Except, she’s not cleaning like you expected her to be, in fact the cloth is entirely disregarded on the bedside table. Instead, Wanda sits with her back against the headrest of her bed, legs crossed over the top of her floral sheets and a magazine sat across her lap.

The door almost slams behind you as you catch eye of her, shock and repel taking you over. “You’re supposed to be cleaning!”

Wanda’s eyes pick up as she hears you yell, meeting your stare across the room. A smirk appears on her face, her expression seeming very amused by your sudden entrance. “Believe me, what I’m doing is much more enjoyable.”

You scowl back, annoyed by the fact you’d just spent the last half hour cleaning the house while she had been sitting up here doing nothing for who knows how long. If you were more argumentative, you would think of something to say in retaliation, some quick quip to get back at her for being lazy. But you’d never been very good at arguing, never very good at holding your temper. So instead you simply hold your tongue as you walk further in the room, watching Wanda as she stared back at you. Suddenly, your eyes fall to the paper in her hand, reminded of how similar this situation felt to the first time you’d met her. Like then, the same curiosity comes over you as to what she might be looking at, particularly how it could be classified as contraband. With that in mind, the next words you utter are not with anger anymore, but instead interest. “What are you reading?”

“Oh this?” Wanda replies, closing the magazine and holding it up briefly. She smirks your way, the grin wide against her cheeks. “Playboy.”

The word was unfamiliar to your mind. “What?”

Wanda’s brow raise. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of a playboy magazine.”

You notice in that moment she’d lost her gum from earlier. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d stuck it under a piece of furniture somewhere. But still trying to focus on the conversation at hand, you simply shake your head in response.

Wanda looks surprised, her brows raising even further. You think she’s going to jest you further, make fun of you for not recognising the name of her treasured magazine, but instead she simply extends it out. “Look.”

You move slowly, slightly hesitant to approach. You know Natasha had confiscated something like this from Wanda before and you didn’t presume this new magazine was much different from that previously banned material. Still, your curiosity seems to be getting the better of you because you slowly sit down on Wanda’s bed, your legs hanging off the side whilst the brunette crosses hers. Against the covers of the bed, Wanda slides the magazine between the two of you, opening it to a random page. What is plastered over it causes your eyebrows to raise completely in shock.

Women. But not just any pictures of women. The magazine was covered in dozens of images of women in differing stages of nudity. Immediately when you saw it, you felt the need to pull your eyes away, knowing that these kind of images were most definitely not the kind you should be looking at. But at the same time, it was like you couldn’t stop. There are about four models across the two pages scattered with different images, sometimes wearing sets of black lacy lingerie, sometimes wearing nothing at all. Theres a strange sensation bubbling in your gut, an odd warmth spreading through your mind as you look down at the pictures. The pure immorality of it all is enough for you to shake your head viscously.

“This is-we’re not-you shouldn’t have that.” You stutter, the images imprinted in your brain making it harder to focus and find the right words. You’ve never seen anything like that before, never looked at a woman’s body so out in the open. Now you could see why Natasha had quickly confiscated Wanda’s magazine and hidden it away from your view. “How do you even have this?”

The brunette seems utterly unfazed by the material in front of you. More so, her face looks amused at your alarmed reaction. “I steal them out of my brother’s backpack when he comes to visit,” she replies casually, as if this is something she’s been doing for months. “He’s pretty oblivious so he never notices, always thinks he lost them. Besides, even if he did know, he couldn’t tell my parents. He’s not allowed them either.”

While Wanda explains, you have to fight against yourself to hold eye contact. In your peripheral, you can still see the open page of nude women, restraining yourself from your body’s seemingly natural instinct to look down. “This isn’t right,” you reply, shaking your head. “We shouldn’t be looking at that.”

Wanda scoffs, looking displeased at your disapproval. She reaches out for the magazine, pulling it back into her own lap as she glances down at the images. Then, she’s looking back up at you, face inquisitive. “You’ve really never seen one before?”

You’re not sure exactly where she thinks you were going to find such a thing, but you’re certain you’ve never seen anything of the sort before. “No,” you reply sternly, shaking your head once more.

Wanda laughs to herself, rolling her eyes. “You call yourself a lesbian and you don’t even know what a playboy is.”

Her words cause a deep frown to appear on your brow, your voice raising to almost a shout. “I’m not a lesbian.”

A perfect brow raises in your direction as Wanda looks at you. Her expression seems particularly amused. “No? How’d you end up here then?”

The question hits you hard, the same thing you’d been pondering to yourself over the last few weeks of your stay. “I’m not gay,” you reply harshly. “Everyone just thinks that I am.”

“And why do you think they think that?”

Wanda’s eyes meet your own as she speaks, the question another one familiar to your own mind. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Stupid reasons.” You think back to the conversation you’d had with your parents, the first time any of this had even cropped up into your mind. “A few posters I had up in my room, a couple songs on my playlist. Oh, and I told my boyfriend I don’t like kissing him. Which is totally stupid. I’m pretty sure he’s just really bad at it.”

A chuckle emanates from Wanda’s throat. You’re not quite sure why, watching as she leans in closer to you. When she speaks again, her face is barely inches from your own. “Oh honey, you don’t like kissing him because you like kissing girls.”

“What?” you exclaim, taken aback by her accusation. That couldn’t possibly be right. “No! I don’t! I told you, I’m not a lesbian.”

Wanda smirks, her eyes trained on yours. “Okay, maybe not a lesbian but I bet you’ve thought about a girl while he’s kissing you.”

The idea was entirely preposterous. “No!” you yelled back. “I haven’t!”

But your anger is only met with amusement on Wanda’s side, her smirk only deepening as she leans back on the bed. “You’re cute when you lie.”

The words have you recoilling, the inclination behind them picked up on yet rejected by your brain. And yet, you could feel a warmth spreading to your cheeks, embarrassment flushing in.

“Have you ever kissed a girl?”

You snap on to Wanda as her question rings out, watching as she casually slides her magazine back behind her bedside table. “No,” you reply firmly. “Of course not.”

“Then how do you know you don’t like it?” The brunette sits up again, leaning in closer to you. Her eyes meet your own, a strange shadow seemingly passing over them. She watches you for a moment, in almost unreadable expression moving across her face. “Surely theres only one way to find out.”

Wanda’s voice is low, barely above a whisper. You find you’re too busy watching her lips to notice her leaning in even closer, face barely centimetres from your own. Suddenly, you pull back. “What are you doing?”

Wanda doesn’t miss a beat, continuing to lean in even as you pull away. One of her hands comes to rest on your thigh, fingers grazing the material of your pleated skirt. “It’s okay,” she says lowly. “I’m just trying to help you.”

Her advance doesn’t stop, face moving closer and close towards yours. It’s only when she’s almost touching you, you realise she’s trying to kiss you. “No,” you say quickly, pushing her back by the shoulders. “We can’t do that. It’s not right.”

Wanda sighs, relaxing her posture a little. She shifts in the bed, eyes still trained on you. For a moment she simply looks over your face before that smirk appears once more. “Maybe…” she says, angling her head. “But isn’t that the whole reason we’re here?” The question slightly throws you for a loop, your confusion allowing Wanda to move closer to you once more. “Don’t do you want to be a good girl and finish the program?”

The way her breath fans across your face sends an odd shiver down your neck, goosebumps appearing on your arms. Her choice of words seems to form an odd feeling in your stomach, but you try your best to brush it off, nodding your head in response to the question. You did want to finish the program. You wanted to be able to go back home to your family.

Wanda smiles at your answer, her head angling to the side as her voice takes a caring tone. “Well we both know what the first step is…You have to admit to yourself you like girls.” She leans in closer, her eyes briefly flashing down to your lips. “You can’t heal if you don’t admit you have a problem.”

Her words mirror those of Natasha’s, the same thing she’d been trying to get through to you for weeks. But you can’t help but fight the part of your brain that recalls everything you’ve been taught about attraction. “This isn’t right,” you say quietly. “You have to stop.” And yet you find yourself making no move to pull away from the girl whose face sits mere inches from your own.

“As I said, I’m just trying to help you.” Wanda’s voice is calm, understanding. “Once you realise you like girls, you can move on with the rest of the program.” Then the brunette shrugs a shoulder. “Or hey, you maybe hate it and realise you actually are straight.”

It makes some sense in your mind but you’re still hesitant, knowing that what Wanda was even suggesting was against everything you wanted to believe in. “I don’t think that we should-“

“Just don’t think.” Wanda cuts you off before you can finish, and before you can even process what’s happening, she closes the final gap between you. Her lips meet yours, soft and warm against your skin. It’s gentle but rough at the same time, your eyes fluttering closed. Then immediately, as the warmth leaves, they snap back open.

Wanda’s staring back at you, face smiling. “How’d that feel?” You notice that her eyes look a little blown out, pupils wide against the sea of green. “Feels good right?”

Suddenly you realise what’s just happened, every part of your upbringing screaming inside your head. “What? No!” you reply, flustering. “No, it didn’t feel good. It felt wrong.”

But some part of you creeps up in the back of your mind, a part you recognised and yet wanted to snuff out more than anything, a part that knew you were lying.

And apparently, Wanda can see right through to that part too. “I can see it on your face, honey,” she says, voice now teasing. Her eyes trace over your features and you wonder what exactly gave it away. There isn’t much time to think however, as before you know it, Wanda’s leaning in again. Her lips meet yours, a hand sliding to your thigh once more.

“Stop,” you reply, pulling away. “This isn’t right. We’re not supposed to-“

Wanda cuts you off again. “Don’t think about what we’re supposed to do. Think about what feels right.”

You notice again the wildness of her pupils, only for a moment, before she leans in again. Your eyes close on impact, her lips crashing into yours in another kiss. Only this time you instinctively lean into it, pursing your lips against hers. Wanda pushes back, her mouth opening just slightly to take in your lips and you find yourself leaning in. There’s a reminiscent taste of bubblegum, sweet on your tongue as her saliva begins to mix with your own. The hand on your thigh tightens, another placed on to the side of your face. For a second you don’t think about anything other than just how good this moment feels.

It’s seconds later Wanda pulls away, her touch lingering but her lips missing. You find your eyes opening, gazing back at the smirking brunette staring back at you. “It feels pretty good doesn’t it?”

You’re lost for words, sure of your answer to her question but so reluctant to admit it. Wanda smiles back at you, her grip on your leg slowly raising up, ever so slightly bunching the fabric of your skirt. Before you can formulate a response, she’s moving in towards you. Her face disappears into the crook of your neck, her warm breath fanning out across your skin before her lips attach. Without thinking, your head falls back, only giving the brunette more access to nip at the skin of your neck. Your eyes feel heavy, an odd sensation pooling deep in your body. “I can make you feel so good…”

The words reverberate across your skin, sending shivers down your neck and across your chest. A small whine exits your throat, unintended by any part of you but seemingly drawn out by the gentle touches of both Wanda’s lips and her fingers dancing across your skin. “Wanda…”

The brunette slowly pulls back, her face rising to meet with yours. Theres a look in her eye you can’t identify. “You’re already a sinner now, right?” she says, voice husky. “No harm in twisting the knife.”

There’s a moment where you want to turn away, to listen to the rational part of your brain that tells you this is all wrong. But right now there’s only one thing you can truly think of; just how good it felt with Wanda’s lips against your own.

Your hands grab at the brunettes shoulders as you pull her in, the pair of you colliding before you even recognise what you’re doing. The kiss comes fast, clashing together in your desperation for the girl to stop talking and just to feel her against you again. Wanda smirks against your lips, humming an amused noise before she’s all over you.

Her hands find purchase in your hair, entangling in the strands at the nape of your neck as she pulls you in closer to her body. Her kiss becomes fiercer, control quickly being regained as she presses her lips into yours. A small hum of your own escapes as she presses her tongue into your mouth, quickly taking over as you simply let her in without protest. And in that moment a thought crashes over your mind; gay or not, your boyfriend was definitely bad at kissing. Furthermore, Wanda was very, very good.

Your hands grips slightly at her shoulders as the brunette domineers the kiss, her lips almost possessive against your own as her hand clutches as your cheek, manipulating your position to give her full control. You feel her other hand begin to drift further up your legs, pushing your skirt up to your hips before climbing even higher. Delicate touches grace over your stomach, then softly against your chest. You release a small whine as Wanda nips at your lip with her teeth, at the same time, reaching to unbutton the top clasp of your shirt. Her fingers work faster than your mind can even process, too distracted by the touch of her lips to notice her quick work of opening your entire shirt. It’s only when she reaches to touch your chest, a gasp of realisation releases from your throat.

Wanda however, continues without missing a beat. As you gasp, she lets her lips leave your own, reappearing quickly on the side of your neck. Her hand tightens around the skin beneath it on your chest, fingers squeezing around your bra and grabbing hold of your breast beneath it. Her soft kisses continue to move lower as you whine softly, her touch against your chest sending shivers down your body.

Then, her mouth turns more aggressive, resting just at the curve of your breast she begins to suck on the flesh harder, nipping with her teeth before smoothing it over with her tongue. You whine softly, the new sensation novel to your body but so intrinsically intuned. For the first time your eyes open, looking down to where the brunette resides again your chest. You notice the way your necklace rests between the wisps of her hair, a silver cross that you’d worn every day for years. The image is enough to remind you of how wrong this is, how under no circumstances you should be letting a girl kiss you or touch your body like this. But before you can fully wrap your mind around the forbidden nature of the act, a new sensation is stripping a small gasp from your chest. Wanda’s fingers move back to your thighs, slipping up the exposed skin before coming to rest on your underwear underneath.

“Wanda…” you breathe heavily, worked up by her touch and yet knowing how wrong it all was. You shouldn’t be doing this, any of it, especially what Wanda was insinuating as she slipped her hand beneath your skirt.

“Shh, it’s okay.” The brunette replies with ease, her voice low and sensual. Her eyes raise back up to your face, meeting your gaze with a blown out expression. “Let me make you feel good, Y/N.”

And with that, her mouth is on yours again. Her kiss is enough to distract you from forming a response, eyes closing as the sweet taste of bubblegum coats your tongue once more. Then you feel her fingers again, pressing lightly against the material of your underwear, tracing the lines of your folds underneath. Small noises travel from your mouth to hers, receptive to her touch, but it’s when she presses her thumb to your clothed clit, a moan finally slips out.

The situation is entirely new to you, never having been touched by anyone this way before. You and your boyfriend had always said you’d wait till marriage, just like you knew you should. But here with Wanda, her lips against yours and her fingers tracing your most delicate areas, the endorphins flowing through your brain are enough to say to hell with it all.

You push harder into the kiss, grasping hold of Wanda’s shoulders as you try to gain the upper hand. But the brunette is much more experienced than you and doesn’t let up easily. Her hands move to your own shoulders and quickly begin to push the open shirt from them. Her lips remain on yours, strong and fierce, until the shirt has been slipped from your body. Then Wanda pulls away, her eyes drifting down over you for just a moment before she’s grabbing at you again. She spins you around, pulling you fully on to the bed as her hands press your shoulders down into the mattress. In a swift movement, she’s kicking off her shoes to the floor, then pulling yours off too. She comes to settle on top of you, knees placed either side of your legs as she looks down. Her hands are quick as she unbuttons her own shirt, tossing it to the side. Then, she’s moving to unclip her bra.

You feel your eyes widen slightly as Wanda’s bare chest is revealed to you. Before the magazine she’d shown you minutes before, it’s the first time you’ve looked at another woman so nude. And in that moment, despite what your brain is screaming out to you, you can’t help but think about how good she looks.

Wanda seems to notice your staring, her face pulling an entirely amused expression as she looks down at you. “I don’t see why you deprive yourself of this, Y/N,” she says, beginning to lean in. Her lips meet your neck, sucking gently as you feel her fingers slip behind your shoulder blades, seeking the clasp of your bra. “Can something truly be so wrong if it brings you so much pleasure?”

You try to reply to her question, brain racking all of the answers you know you should be saying. But then her lips are sucking at your neck and you’re arching into her touch, once again taken over entirely by the flush of pleasure underneath her control. Theres a release against your chest as Wanda unclips your bra, tossing it easily to the side along with her own. “So gorgeous,” the brunette murmurs, one hand coming to grab at your chest. Then her lips are on you again, kissing at the skin around your nipple. When she pulls it into her mouth, teeth grazing over the bud, a needy whine erupts in your throat. Wanda smirks against you, breathing out a laugh. “So sensitive.”

Her mouth continues to work around the skin of your chest, before you notice her fingers crawling over your stomach. They take hold of your skirt, pressing it up to bunch at your waist. Then Wanda is moving away, fingers quickly hooking themselves under the sides of your underwear as she begins to slide them down.

For a sudden moment, you’re acutely aware of what’s going on, of how you are quite literally in a dorm at a camp where this type of behaviour was attempted to be corrected. Not to mention the rule of any sort of fraternisation being entirely banned. “Wait,” you say, looking down at the brunette between your legs, suddenly afraid of what you were about to do. “I don’t think-“

“I told you to stop thinking,” Wanda replies, eyes snapping to yours. She continues to pull your underwear down, throwing them to the floor once they’ve passed your ankles. Before you can say anything more, her lips drown you in a kiss. The sweetness of it all is enough to wipe any of the doubt from your mind, so when Wanda’s hands dip between your legs, you don’t hesitate to let her. Deft fingers run between your folds, teasing you slightly as they brush gently across your clit. You sigh breathily between the breaks of your kiss, Wanda’s touch like electric to your skin.

“God, you’re so wet, Y/N,” the brunette whispers, pulling her face away to smirk down at you. “Is this all for me?”

She’s teasing you, making you think about how hesitant you’d been to this whole idea, and then about how receptive you were under her touch. But you don’t want to think about any of that, don’t want to remind yourself of how wrong this all was. All you want is for her to keep going. “Wanda…” you whine, squirming under her as her fingers teased your entrance. “Please.”

You don’t even truly know what you’re asking for her to do, all you know is you need her. Thankfully, the brunette is proficient in picking up your body’s signals. “Shh, it’s okay,” she whispers, breath fanning across your face. “I know what you need, princess. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

It’s only seconds later you feel her middle finger plunge into you. You let out a loud gasp at the contact, feeling her finger begin to move inside of you like nobody’s had before. Her name drips off your tongue, laced with pleasure, as her head moves back to your chest, tongue playing with your hardened nipple. Theres a mark resting there, red and throbbing below the skin of your cross. In the heat of the moment, you hands reach out to grasp the back of her head, intertwining with her hair as you feel her add another finger inside you.

The pleasure rolls of you in waves, Wanda’s touch like a skilled professional highly attuned to draw sweet subtle moans from your mouth. Her thumb circles your clit as she continues to pump her fingers inside of you, curling them to reach that spot that sends shivers up your spine.

“Fuck, Wanda,” you murmur, nails lightly scratching at her bare back.

The brunette chuckles, raising her head from your chest. “Now that’s not a very holy word, is it Y/N?” She smirks, and for a moment her touch is gone. You whine, chasing her fingers as they leave your needy core. Theres a second she lifts her weight and you see her reaching to remove her own underwear, then she’s back on you, this time sitting against just on of your thighs. You can feel her wetness against your skin, a soft moan escaping as she makes contact. “I wanna cum with you, okay?” she says, eyes meeting yours. You nod eagerly but your reply is swallowed up by a low cry as her fingers suddenly sink back into you.

Her speed picks up as she begins to curl inside you once again, a soft stream of curses leaving your lips at the unexplainable pleasure of her touch. You can feel Wanda begin to grind on to your thigh as she works, soft gasps escaping from her lips each time her clit brushes beautifully against your skin. She showers your praises as you whimper noises of your own, breaths heavy and moans unrestrained as she brings you closer and closer to that edge.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, princess,” Wanda husks over you. “Such a pretty girl for me.”

Her words only add to the building feeling in your lower stomach, that familiar coil building from the times you’d reached down to pleasure yourself after your parents had went to bed - not that you would tell anyone that.

“Please, Wanda,” you whimper, back arching into her. “I’m close-please…”

One hand continues to pump inside you, paced perfectly as her curled fingers reached that spot with each thrust. The other come up to play with a perked nipple, the bud rolling though Wanda’s fingers as helpless whines spill from your mouth. “Just a minute, princess,” Wanda replies, her breathing heavy. “I’m almost there.”

Surprisingly, her pace doesn’t falter as she too climbs closer to her orgasm. Her moans grow louder, her cunt grinding harder against your thigh as she continues to swirl your clit at the perfect speed. It’s when you finally tense the muscles in your leg, that she finally falls apart.

You feel her soak your thigh, gasping desperately as she cums. You watch mesmerised as her face screws up, her jaw hanging loose as she rides out her orgasm on your leg, drunk on pleasure. It only adds to the bundling arousal pooling in your lower stomach.

“Cum, pretty girl” Wanda whispers, still coming down from her high. “Cum for me.”

And you do. With her fingers curling just right inside you, you finally tip over the edge. Your orgasm comes hard, crashing over you in a tidal wave as Wanda slowly circles your clit, guiding you through it. A guttural moan elicits from your throat, Wanda’s name lacing your tongue. That pleasant buzz takes over your mind as you feel her fingers slow, riding out your high, drunk on her touch. You’re on the brink of overstimulation when she finally removes her hand entirely. Eventually your eyelids flutter open, heavy from exhaustion, and you spy the brunette with her fingers deep isnide her mouth, her tongue lapping up every last bit of your arousal.

“So sweet,” she murmurs above you, both of your minds still fuzzy from the resounding pleasure. Eventually, the brunette moves herself away from your thigh, whining slightly as her core is exposed to the cool air. Her body flops down next to yours, shoulders touching as you lay cramped in the single cot. Your heavy breaths are the only sound for a long while, loud in the silence of the dormitory. Then finally, when you’ve managed to right your body again, your face turns to look at the girl beside you. Wanda is already staring back, green eyes wide as a huge smirk settles across her lips. She looks you up and down, her grin only widening as she husks, “You still wanna believe you’re not into girls?”.

[tumblingxelian]

Honest question, what do you think a well-written "Jason lives" story would look like?

Like, if Death in the Family still happened, but Bruce saved Jason before it was too late, then odds are there would still be consequences resulting from how BADLY the Joker brutalized him.

Hmm, OK so with your starting premise and utilizing my knowledge of comics to come but also the fact that if Jason lived then certain ideas and plots would be nixed... While all still colored from my perspective, here is my general take:

So, first, rather than Bruce saving Jason I'd say Jason actually manages to save himself, either because he released his mother or managed to half talk her through disarming the bomb.

I know the original splash page has Bruce pulling him from the rubble but that makes zero sense even by comics standards, he and Sheila should be charred corpses.

So, the bomb is disarmed or they managed to get out cos he released Sheila and Bruce arrives to whisk Jason away to medical treatment with Sheila keeping his head above water.

The exact next sequence is harder to make sense of at first, but here's the thing. The original comic could let Joker get away with learning who Jason was behind the mask because he 'died' soon after and then 'came back'. He also initially mistook Tim for Jason. So, given his state of mind it can be... Tacitly tolerated that he never deduced or used Bruce's identity.

Here, that's a bigger issue and so I will say that to keep the tracks covered as much as they can...

Sheila is kept in custody because while Bruce is furious with her, she did keep Jason alive & separating them seems like a bad idea, though she is to be closely watched by Leslie & Alfred.

Unfortunately, the intel she gave him on Joker's plan was slightly false and she used her time to slip away to go after the clown herself, intent on a redemption arc.

There's messages, misunderstandings, truths revealed and another arrest that doesn't last, before Joker is once again in a helicopter trying to escape but this time with Sheila who shoots him, but he shoots her back as he lays dying and the helicopter crashes.

They cannot find Joker's body but Sheila stayed above long enough to die later, musing on where her life led her, the importance of getting a chance to do something, and that Jason is a real good kid, better than she or Bruce deserve.

This is deeply tragic, mostly conceptually and philosophically, but still.

This is enough to make Bruce sort of ease up on Jason, but at the expense of becoming more overprotective in general. Which is hard to argue with as Jason is doing physical therapy and Dick has a broken leg.

So the drama for the ensuing period is Bruce trying to bench key allies and family ETC, so he can keep them safe while still running himself more ragged, but not quite as terribly as his suicidal spiral in canon.

He also has ideas on sending Jason to a semi boarding school to try and keep him out of super heroics. If he succeeds, this plan will still fail and likely ends up forming the nexus of Jason's own mini team with Eddie and Rose. But also would fail to keep him out of Gotham sufficiently. Still he may be at Brentwood some of the time so one can justify solo Batman stories & some more school time adventures for Jason.

But before all that happens, we have a new player in the field.

The Spoiler!!!

That's right, into the arena is the one, the only Stephanie Brown. She's here to spill the tea and kill her dad, and maybe protect her community on the side.

Best part?

Bruce either does not know who she is at first, or has zero jurisdiction over her and can't gain any without revealing his identity or attacking a teenager for trying to help and she is slippery regardless.

Basically, one of the people who helps crowbar Bruce back into tolerating help is Stephanie basically keeping her original give no fucks about Batman attitude and doing her own thing.

Their relationship is likely a bit contentious and back and forth, far more hands off, not quite mentoring, but also less outright toxic than canon.

She & Jason probably have a thing and bond over some shared and different history stuff, but I don't see it being the mainstay relationship.

Young Justice is likely found eventually under similar circumstances, though Stephanie likely gets to be a member this time, as do Eddie & Rose.

I think the team would be less, Kon, Kid Flash & Robin and more like a cycling mass of active or present members, dealing with an overseer.

Basically a comic series to throw lots of different personalities power sets and problems together and see what dynamics emerge as popular.

After that, less sure.

My ideal is Jason goes to university or maybe has to stay with Young Justice or some other area full time and adopts his own hero persona while Steph gets a run as Robin alongside Cassandra as Batgirl.

Otherwise most major storylines, save one's reliant on Jason being dead, still happen. Steph likely has a less horrible time as Spoiler, but is also maybe always and forever more overtly on the outs so she might not get Robin as she might not want it. (Though maybe during No Man's Land...)

See what I mean about the plot drift?

War Games may still happen but probably with a very different, though not inherently better cos Bruce's plan was dumb, resolution.

Also Joker does return, sadly, and there's always likely a hovering question as to whether he knows the truth of their identities but its never confirmed, or isn't until he dies again.

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Six

Warnings: tw: child abuse, tw: physical abuse, tw: verbal abuse, mentions of therapy, heavy angst, language, self-loathing.

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: There are TRIGGER WARNINGS in this part - please heed these, and if you think you’ll be affected by any of them, please do not read.

A/N 2: And so here is the next part that made me cry as I was writing it. Have tissues at the ready... and maybe some ice-cream to soften the blow, and know that I am giving you a big, squishy hug at the end 💖

You can catch up here!

 My Masterlist AO3    Ko-Fi

My dearest Dean,

My therapist gave me this exercise to write letters to the people in my life - the good and bad. To get things off my chest that are weighing me down and need to be said. She said I could send them if I wanted, but as it stands right now, I don’t know if you will ever read this. This is the first of five I plan to write. You, your mom, Uncle Bobby, and my father. He will never see his, but there is a lot of shit I need to get off my chest about him. I also need to write one to myself. Give myself forgiveness or some chick-flick bullshit! 

Dean let out a chuckle as he read her opening words.

That’s right… you read that right! It does say therapist! I know you always told me to go. Told me that it’d help. But you know me, stubborn to the core and will go out of my way to do the exact opposite of what I’m being told to do just to piss everyone off! Trust me, some things will never change! But I guess what I’m trying to say is… you were right.

I fought it and fought it, but when the nightmares got worse, and I started seeing him all over campus, at the bar I work in, the coffee shop I study in, the grocery store… You get the picture. I knew I had to at least try it, and… it’s working.

It’s such a relief getting everything out in the open. Knowing that I really, honest to God, did nothing wrong and didn’t deserve any of it. I know you never judged me, and you never would, but there were always things running through my mind that I never told anyone. Not until now, at least.

It was always swimming around in there that it was somehow my fault. That life would’ve been much simpler if I’d died that night. Maybe my father was right. He and Mom could’ve had more children and softened the blow.

I dreamed of a better life every night - at least when the nightmares stayed away. My dreams would show me what life would be like if Mom survived. Sometimes I had a little brother. Sometimes it was a sister. We’d spend weekends playing in the yard or baking cookies together. I’d run down the sidewalk to meet my father on his way home from work, and he’d pick me up and swing me around and around. He’d lift me onto his shoulders, and we’d walk home together laughing, and I’d feel like I was on top of the world!

But then I’d wake up, and the world around me was so cold and dull. He’d be passed out on the couch again, and I’d have to make myself breakfast and get ready for school. Those mornings, I honestly wished I were dead.

More tears leaked from Dean’s eyes as a sad smile overtook his features. He wished she’d had the life she dreamed about. If the spark was still there between them, he swore to himself that he’d make sure any kids they might have in the future had a life exactly like the one in her dreams.

I know you always told me that none of it was my fault, and I know deep down in my heart that it’s true, but there has always been that nasty voice telling me I’m not good enough, that I’m a waste of space and I deserve to be treated like shit. The voice that would whisper: ‘Stop complaining. People have it worse than you.’

You know it’s one thing for the people who love you to tell you that the voices are lying, but it doesn’t sink in until an outsider tells you that. So, thank you, Dean, for babbling on endlessly about going to therapy. Without it, I’d never have thought about going, and I’d have given in to the destructive ways I began using to drown it out.

I’ve wanted to call you so bad, but it wouldn’t be fair to keep putting my shit onto you. I was the one who left you. 

Dean knew more tears were streaming down his face now. He knew all eyes were on him, but he couldn’t care less. All he could think about was that he’d somehow failed her for having such negative thoughts and never fully believing it wasn’t her fault.

Before therapy, when things got too much, I coped the only way I knew how. Well, the only way I’d been taught - I drank. I also developed an unhealthy relationship with sex to feel something… anything that wasn’t pure hatred for myself. I let men use me in any way they wanted to. I might as well become the filthy little slut my father always told me I was, right? Of course, it didn’t work. Not really. It only made me hate myself more.

It shames me to tell you all of this because I know it makes me a stranger to you. It turns me into someone you no longer know, but as therapy goes on and I’ve stopped using those harmful coping methods, I realise I’ve changed. For better or worse, those experiences and getting treatment have made me a different person.

He dropped the letter from his gaze and sobbed again. He wept for the girl who was taught to drink away her problems. To the girl whose father’s words had cut so deeply into her skin that she became the thing he’d always accused her of being.

Memories of the first time she told him her father had accused her of having sex with him, and he’d called her a filthy little slut crawled to the forefront of his mind. She was only twelve years old.

Sam’s hand on his back brought him back to the present, and he huffed a loud exhale before picking up the pieces of paper and continuing.

I’m mentally and physically stronger now (thanks to kickboxing and self-defence!) I have more confidence in myself, more self-esteem, and more self-belief. But I know that underneath all that, I’m still me. I’ve found the girl I was before I lost my sparkle and before her crown slipped.

I’m becoming a whole new woman, and I need you to know that you started to build her, Dean. Your love gave her the solid foundation and supporting walls she needed to soar skyward. The structure was shaky for a little while back there, and I didn’t know if it would all come crashing down, but I had your voice in the back of my mind telling me that you loved me, that you’d always love me. And it stopped the world from shaking and the structure from crumbling.

You laid the foundations for me, and each supporting wall you built is at the core of the new me. Because of you, I found the strength to open up and start the healing process. Because of you, I was brave enough to leave and start a new life. Because of you, my colours, which started as dull shades of grey, became soft pastels and are now neons, shining brighter than ever. Because of you and your unconditional love, I’ve grown my wings, and I’m finally learning to fly without a safety net.

Thank you for not asking me to stay, Dean. Because I don’t think I’d have taken this time to fix and heal myself if you had.

I love you. I always have, and I always will. And I miss you every goddamn day. I need you to know that, and I need you to believe that. I hope that one day I’m strong enough to come home and tell you this face to face, but that’s still too far out on the horizon. 

There’s still so much building I need to do to solidify myself, and I promise I will do it. I’m gonna be that little girl who was your best friend again. I’m gonna be that young woman you fell in love with again. I’m gonna make you, Uncle Bobby, and my mom proud. I won’t end up like him; I’d rather die than make his words true.

As I read back, it feels like this is a goodbye, and I guess it is, in a way. It’s a goodbye to that frightened and sad little girl everyone once knew.

I hope with all my heart that we meet again someday, Dean. I hope you get to see the woman I’ll become. I hope she makes you proud, and I get to tell you she’s here because of you.

All my love, always and forever,

Y/N xx

Dean wiped furiously at his eyes, cleared his throat, and huffed loudly. He hugged Mary tight and whispered an emotional ‘thank you’ that was only heard between mother and son.

“I would’ve dropped everything and gone to Chicago if I’d read this back then,” Dean said.

“I know. And so did Y/N. It’s why she told me to wait until the time was right,” Mary pulled back from his embrace to look into her son’s eyes. “And it wouldn’t have ended well for either of you. Y/N needed to heal and grow. If you’d gone to her, she’d have given up therapy, sacrificed her healing for you.

“What you had was special, there is no doubt about that, and it could be again, but with her fragile upbringing and your unconditional need to protect her all the time, it could’ve only ended in two ways…” Mary stopped, and Dean nodded his head.

“Either she’d have lost herself completely, swallowed up in my shadow, or I’d be in prison for murdering her father,” Dean finished for her.

“Exactly. Y/N knew that, too, and she didn’t want either of those futures for you. She wanted to grow and learn how to take care of herself. Stand up for herself. Fight back. She could only have done that alone. She had to become someone you didn’t need to protect,” Mary said.

“I’ll always protect her. I’ll protect everyone I love,” Dean countered, and Mary smiled.

“I know you would, Dean, and we are so proud of you for that, but she’s a lot stronger than you give her credit for, and there’s a big difference between needing to protect someone and wanting to,” Mary cupped his cheek and gave him a soft smile before she moved to sit at the table.

“So, what happens now, son?” John asked. “I know you still love her.”

“I’ll always love her, but I’d like to find out if I’m still in love with her,” Dean replied.

“It’s clear that you are, Dean,” Sam added with a smirk. “I don’t think you ever stopped.”

“Yeah, maybe. But that letter is at least ten years old, and Y/N talks about being different. Shit, I’ve changed too. Who knows if that means I still love her, feel nothing but platonic love or will fall in love with her all over again?”

“I don’t think she’ll have changed as much as you think, Dean!” John said with a soft smile.

“I hope not,” Dean smiled. “Still, I don’t wanna get too excited. She might not be in love with me anymore. Plus, she’ll have a lot on her plate with moving back, settling into a new job, and a new life. Her dad is dying-”

“Dean, you can’t put off seeing her,” Sam insisted.

“I won’t. But I won’t force myself back into her life when everything’s already in the air for her. I’ll let her settle, and then if she agrees, we’ll meet and talk.”

Next Chapter >>

Tag list: @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27 @candy-coated-misery0731 @iprobablyshipit91 @twinkleinadiamondsky @mrsjenniferwinchester @spnwoman @snackles87 @perpetualabsurdity @hoboal87 @synmorite @nancymcl @trannydean @nic-kolas @jc-winchester @winchestergirl1720 @globetrotter28 @nelachu2423 @kayleighmeister @venicesem @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @suckitands33 @tristanrosspada-ackles @silentbutscreaming @lacilou @sandlee44 @kmc1989 @chriszgirl92 @ashbatz @k-slla @jamerlynn @waters-2567 @kazsrm67

[ccuniculusmolestus]

Bunny Corcoran; Childhood Moodboard.

Based purely on headcanons, currently not refined but I will polish them after a re-read.

Katherine Corcoran suffered from a personality disorder (which I believe was passed down either genetically or environmentally to Bunny.) Both she and Macdonald knew there was something wrong with her, but i mean BPD was added to the DSM 5 in the 1980s (when TSH was set) so I believe when she was still younger, getting therapy or going to therapy was heavily stigmatized and also only the extremely mentally ill were treated? Perhaps it was also a social image thing, or a personal pride thing, but sis did not get help for it until much later. I also feel like, during the events of the book, that maybe she was on mood stabilizers just because she's so cool and chill all the time. (Described as "calm as a bride" at her own son's funeral whereas her husband can't stop oscillating between bawling and playing with his grandkids.) Now, BPD isn't largely genetic like Bipolar but it has genetic predisposition. That genetic predisposition paired with environmental influences like neglect can lead to the development of BPD, which is I believe what happened with Bunny. I mean, we can also argue that Bunny's dad was so emotionally volatile. He jumped from one mood to the other, and I'm not being cringey and self-diagnosing (?) book characters but he probably had a mood disorder (Bipolar disorder) which is largely genetic. He's more similar to his mother than Richard realized or noted in the books, I think. The way he was beginning to get into drugs, too idk. I feel like it's Macdonald's influence on the boys' behaviors is very prominent, but to see Kathy's influence, you'd have to see their sons up-close. We really only saw Bunny up-close, and that too only from Richard's (very biased imo) opinion

Anyway, building on that, I just wanna say I think Kathy and Macdonald's parenting style was very inconsistent, and most of the times just downright neglectful. This much is clear; the corcoran household struggled with emotional volatility. Environments like these can serious alter the brain chemistry of children who grow up in them, and they act as triggers for activating the genetic influences that are present within someone. So growing up Bunny often felt like his mom loved him, then she didn't, then she did, so on. It's mentioned in the books how Bunny was miraculously the best out of all the Corcoran family members (I think Charles says this) and I think maybe Bunny was more in touch with his emotions (before any of u get triggered-- no, not implying that's hes a kind soul or 100% empathic)

I know the popular notion is that the youngest child is the most spoilt but tbh sometimes they can be the loneliest. The first two brothers have kids that are like, I think almost 10 years old, so I think there's a considerable age gap between (Bunny, Patrick, Brady) & (Hugh and Teddy). Because like, Bun and Brady are still in school, and Patrick is doing some business thing I think?? I actually need to sit down and draft up a timeline of their births lol. Anyway, the point I was going to make is that the Corcoran boys were shipped off to boarding schools when they were pretty young, and boarding schools typically start accepting at around age 11 I think. But I think prep boarding schools also exist and your kid can be as young as 7 before you ship them off to stay at the school. A thing to note, prep boarding schools are VERY expensive, so if the Corcorans are sending their kids to boarding schools purely for the image of being rich, they might have done that tbh. Which brings me to this point, the age gap isnt too big between Bunny & (Brady+Patrick) but they'd still get to go to boarding school before Bunny, meaning Bunny was younger than 7 years old, and most probably isolated because all his brothers were not at home anymore and he was left to just his neglectful mother (considering his father would be at work) . So being the youngest in this family could possibly entail isolation. again, purely headcanon!

[bucks-little-hop]

bones are good (the rest don't matter) 2.5k

For Buddie Week Day 2: Protective Eddie - Co-Parenting - "I can tell you're not fine"

Read on ao3 here

Bake sale days at Christopher’s school were Buck’s favourite, but they never seemed to go off without a hitch Yes, Buck had been banned from having a clipboard. No, he did not want to talk about how he lost it. He may or may not have yelled at Chimney for incorrectly folding in the ingredients for an angel food cake, but that was besides the point. He was not allowed to do his large scale cooking projects at the station anymore. Instead, he had packed Eddie up with a box of the few that didn’t look the best but would still taste amazing. The 118 may have made fun of Buck for his ability to unhinge his jaw and swallow his food whole but he saw how they acted for his triple fudge brownies. He knew that they would be begging for more when they saw him. He already knew Eddie would bring it up when he joined them after his shift. Buck hated not being on the same shift, but sacrifices had to be made so Christopher could continue to brag that his baked goods sold out the fastest.  He may not have helped as much with the baking, but he did quality check the taste so he got some credit.

The actual bake sale itself was mundane. Lots of parents and kids flitting around the room, following whichever sweet treat called to them. As predicted, Buck was out of brownies within the second hour. Who knew 100 brownies wouldn’t enough? Buck did, he may not have had a clipboard, but he still had a notes app on his phone he could check things off. He had done all the math based on previous bake sales, and knew approximately how fast they would sell out. That was why he had a box of cannolis sitting in a cooler in his car. He could not be bested by Jessica, who claimed she could raise the most money. She was a newer parent in the district, only joining at the start of the school year three months before. She, and her daughter Rachel, seemed to cause problems at every turn. Buck had listened to Eddie express his distain for her after one particularly awful PTA meeting. The only positive of it was Jessica always brought out Eddie’s disgusted face, which Buck found quite adorable. Buck couldn’t wait for the two of them to debrief on the couch tonight. 

Buck let Christopher know he was running out to the car. He resisted the urge to press a kiss into Christopher’s curls. They were firmly in that pre-teen stage where either of his dads were more often than not embarrassing. It did warm Buck’s heart. He got to embarrass Christopher the same way his dad did. He still had his doubts about his place in the Diazes’ lives sometimes. With moments like this, it eased some of his general nerves. He knew he wouldn’t just be put into Eddie’s will for no reason. He also knew the hidden adoption paperwork on Eddie’s side of the room didn’t exist for no reason. It was the same reason Buck had a ring hidden in his sock drawer. Neither were hidden well, but just waiting for the right moment to be addressed. Things were good between Buck and Eddie. Maybe even a little too good. There hadn’t been any major injuries at work in a few months. They hadn’t had any sort of major fight in at least half a year. Knowing who they both were as people, it was clear they were both just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was something Buck made a note of in his phone to address at their next therapy session together. He took the moment to also send Eddie a text, letting him know the bake sale was all to plans. Buck really should have known better than give the universe the potential to jinx him. 

Buck got side tracked on his way back to the gym. He couldn’t pass up an opportunity to hear the science teacher talk about the upcoming field trip, and how they were so excited that Buck had volunteered to chaperone. It did mean that overall it took about 10 minutes longer than expected. Eddie had mentioned one late night that neither he or Shannon were as extroverted as Christopher, and he got that trait all from Buck. It was one of those jokes they had that always left Buck with a slight skip in his step. Of course it crumbled down as soon as he got back into the gym.

Across from the entrance Buck could see Jessica and Rachel talking with a clearly upset Christopher. Buck couldn’t make out their words, but based on the smug look on Rachel’s face, he could make some guesses. He hurried over to the trio.

“Thanks for holding the fort down while I was gone. I’ve got everything I need from the car, so you’re free to go roam again Christopher.” Buck did his best to keep his tone light. He slid back behind the table and started to set out the new treats. He wanted there to be an way for Christopher to escape if he wanted. The younger boy, strangely enough, did decide to leave and go wander around. It was an indication he was upset about what had been said, but more clearly that it was something said about Buck. 

“Jessica, Rachel. So lovely to see the two of you.” He plastered on his fakest of nice smiles on. It was the one he used on calls when whoever they were rescuing could not take the hint that he was taken and had no interest. “I thought you would be completely swamped with your cupcakes.” Buck could not wait for Eddie to arrive. He knew that the other man would have so many bitchy opinions on the lavender earl grey cupcakes Jessica had made. ‘Really Buck, what kid likes earl grey? Just make a vanilla or something and put colourful frosting on it.’

“Hello there Buck. We had just been talking about how Christopher’s father made the brownies today but I don’t see Eddie anywhere.” Jessica seemingly pretended to look around the room before making eye contact with Buck again. “I had thought it was that parents providing the treats, not family friends.” She always had that fake tone quality to her voice. The one where a person could sound just so sweet and innocent, but knew that they were picking words specifically to cut deep. 

“As we have covered before, both Eddie and I are Christopher’s parents. So yes, these are made by a parent. Even still, I didn’t see anyone complaining about Stephen’s clearly store bought cookies.” It wasn’t that Buck had forgotten Jessica was homophobic, it was more of one of those cases where she had so many bad qualities it didn’t make sense how they all fit inside a person. If Buck was a betting man anywhere outside the station he would certainly have bet that Jessica or Rachel had made a comment that Christopher should be sitting down instead of standing up before he came over. They really would need to talk with the Principal if this continued.

“The instructions just said the parents had to bring something, not that it was homemade.” Jessica threw her hair over her shoulder. “As much fun as this is, I should go and talk to some of the actual parents.” She gave Buck no room to respond before walking off.

Buck wouldn’t have responded anyways. There was nothing that was nice and true that he could have said to Jessica. He was also trying to be the bigger person and keep their children out of whatever petty fights the parents decided to have. He filled his time with idle chat with any of the other parents, teachers, or children who made their way around. He would need to let Eddie know to suggest next time that perhaps 4 hours was far too long of a time for these to go on. Who even suggested it? Probably Jessica, making up some annoying story about how it would be most effective if it was longer so everyone could show up to buy something. 

Eddie finally showed up with about a half an hour to go. He looked almost dead on his feet. Buck hadn’t gotten any texts about any particularly bad calls. Then again, he hadn’t heard much from the team today. Seemed like it was probably just a day of minor non-stop calls. The shift had been operating as a mostly medical team that day, so probably many visits to the few nursing homes in their radius for calls that didn’t really need to be emergency calls. Buck’s suspicious were confirmed when his greeting kiss to Eddie lasted a little longer than the older man would normally allow. Eddie still wasn’t the biggest on PDA. In private, he had no problems showing Buck with affection, but years of repressing your sexuality didn’t just go away overnight. Buck didn’t mind, he knew Eddie just showed his love different in public. Almost as if Eddie knew Buck’s train of thinking, he stole one of the last cannolis from the box.

“Oh I see how it is. You thought you could distract me while you stole from your son’s school.” Buck teased, bumping his shoulder into Eddie. He jostled Eddie slightly, leading to some of the filling to end up on his nose. Eddie’s eyes crossed as he looked at it causing Buck to let out a soft chuckle. 

“You know me, nothing I love more than stealing from children.” Eddie responded while wiping his nose off. He wrapped an arm around Buck’s waist and leant slight on the taller man. “Did I miss anything exciting?”

“Nothing interesting today. I did hear a rumour that Iris is cheating on her husband with Kyle.” It was not quite a legal obligation to fill Eddie in on all the gossip he heard, but it may as well have been.  “It did come from Mariah however, so I’ll need a second source on that one.” 

“I thought Kyle had been cheating on his wife with Anne.” Eddie spoke softly while waving over at Christopher with his free hand. He’d say hi to him on their way out. Whatever game the kids had invented was far more exciting than the boring parent discussion going on.

Buck was getting ready to respond that yes, Kyle was still seeing Anne and Iris was just going to add to that drama. He didn’t get the chance, as Jessica had made it her mission to come back over.

“Ah Eddie! It is so nice to see that we finally have another parent here.” Jessica was always a little nicer to Eddie than she was Buck. Buck assumed it had to do with the fact that Eddie was Christopher’s biological father, so he had to have been with a woman at some point. 

“I don’t think another parent being here really makes a difference. But if you’re so concerned with the amount of parents here your husband could finally show up. It’s interesting that we haven’t met him yet.” Eddie shot back. 

“Well he is in Hong Kong for business this week, so unfortunately he couldn’t make it.” Jessica’s face morphed into the frown she always got about her husband. It was a weird mixture of pretend sad and a ‘I’m better than you because my husband is important’ face. Buck had many doubts on whether or not the husband actually existed, or wasn’t just always out of the house from how unpleasant his wife was. He was sure it would come up when he and Eddie talked later. 

“Rachel at least has me here, so she’s got a parent represented. Christopher just had your friend here the whole time.” 

Buck felt Eddie’s grip tighten on his waist. Maybe Eddie should have just gone home, it wasn’t with him getting into a fight because he was tired. If he was only slightly bitchy Buck would allow it.

“Buck was here the whole time. Just because you don’t recognize my fiancé as a parent doesn’t make it true. You have a lot of opinions that aren’t accurate, like the fact you thought that those shoes were a good choice for that outfit.” Jessica tried to open her mouth to respond, but Eddie cut her off before she got the chance. “I really don’t think you want to cause a scene in public like this, but if you don’t leave in the next 10 seconds I will start yelling.” 

If there was one thing Jessica hated above all else, it was a public scene. You couldn’t right fight in those, they just made everyone look bad. She couldn’t have her social image disturbed because Eddie didn’t want to hold back. She left with a huff.

Buck’s brain had frozen on the word fiancé, and was processing a reboot the rest of that conversation. He must have had some sort of look on his face, because Eddie was suddenly in front of him, hand resting on Buck’s collarbone in a oh so familiar spot. Eddie had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“I know we hadn’t really talked about it, but you didn’t hid it all that well. I’ve been calling you that for weeks in my head, waiting for it to be true.” Eddie’s voice had a bit of nervous quality to it. “I know Jessica doesn’t really matter, but I hate that anyone can look at you and not know how important you are to me. I know you're not fine when other's act like Christopher isn't yours.” 

Buck gave Eddie a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling him into a hug. If they were not standing in a middle school gymnasium he would certainly have given Eddie a much different kind of kiss. “I really don’t know if that counts as a proposal, but thanks for stealing my thunder. I can’t wait to tell everyone how we got engaged. We can discuss it more when we get home, but you know there is nothing I want more than to be able to call you my husband and to sign those documents to make Christopher legally mine.” 

Buck already had plans to hide the ring in Eddie’s coffee the next morning. He could get his cheesy moment where he got to tell Eddie how much he loved the other man and how much joy he and Christopher brought to Buck’s life. He would also get to watch a barely awake Eddie not notice anything was up until he finished his entire first cup and was going to fill it up again. Eddie was going to hate a morning proposal, but Buck already knew he would compromise on an afternoon wedding so it would all work out.

[amyriadfthings]

Sometimes you´re out grocery shopping and idly browsing the frozen veg section when you suddenly remember that the queen threw up after Erik´s death when Wille said he´s always been compared to his brother and Wille threw up when he realized he´s going to have to keep being crown prince.

And you think about similar reactions to stress of parent and child and you remember the queen told Wille to take three deep breaths when he freaked out over Simon´s date and how she sends him to therapy to control his outbursts (ugh).

And you think where did it all go wrong that she can´t ever connect with her son when she´s obviously got some experience in that department. I think we meet her so far into her own history of controlling her emotions that she´s unable and mostly unwilling to connect even when Wille is outright asking her to be his mom (gah!), because oh hey, those would be more emotions she would need to allow to break through, and those walls are staying. Maybe in her mind even for Wille´s own good, to teach him how it´s done.

And there´s certainly reasons for those walls and it´s probably part self-protection and probably people telling her from a young age she needs to have them, and probably also because she´s a woman on the throne, so people would probably insist a little extra on them.

The most honest and raw I´ve seen her in the show is the moment she throws up.

(I usually question what she´s saying to Wille or August, no matter what warm or soft tone she´s using about what the court allegedly wants her to do, how it´s not really her, and how she actually supports Wille etc, as she´s been proven to manipulate Wille (and August in S2) into doing what she thinks is best for the institution she´s the head of. The one whose survival is always the priority, as per her own words.)

She´s shown to do royal business in what looks like pyjamas after all, the most casual and private of clothes, telling us there´s no separation, ever, that she´s always the queen. She rolls her eyes at her son after ending a phone call in which a rattled Wille sits among shards of glass negotiating with her (!), after she wanted to forcibly remove him from school. She doesn´t ever truly seem torn or conflicted, except that one time she throws up.

When her emotional core literally breaks its way out of her against her will.

No wonder she completely underestimates Wille and the depth and power for change his emotions hold after he´s finally allowed some therapy (that he could have used long ago just for growing up in that institution) and experienced actual emotional growth and healing instead of using it for control like she probably has. No wonder she and the court collectively underestimate Simon and what his love, what their love and connection mean to Wille. (Looking at you, Jan-Olof, allowing Wille a moment with Simon, you fool!) It´s simply been too long behind those impenetrable walls that she can´t even see it anymore. Until her son shows her. And you wonder if he´s even breaking through to her, or if she´s just been confirmed in her fears about his emotional unruliness and will dig in deeper inside her fortress. (Another time if feels like we see some honest emotion from her is of course in S1 when she´s visibly angry as she says that nobody ever chooses the royal life, so maybe Wille can relay Boris´ message about choosing how to live your life to her? Maybe she´s not beyond Boris´ wisdom. Anyway.)

The show shines such an unforgiving light on that institution that chokes all feelings and individual freedom out of you, especially over such a long time as with the queen, but I love love love how hopeful and defiant Wille´s journey of deliberate progress is in the face of it.

And I do hope he´ll continue therapy and never allows his own walls back up once they´re down.

[justkending]

Found Memories. Chapter 2.

Finding Memories Sequel: (I advise you to read the 1st series for context).

Series Summary: Following the aftermath of Finding Memories, Bucky tries to complete goals he feels she would have discovered for herself as a way to let her memory live on. However, he never expected to find someone very close to who he believed she would have been if given the chance of normalcy. A journey of mourning someone he lost turned into a journey of discovering someone new happens upon the soldier. Maybe this whole normal thing isn’t as bad as he had pictured it in his mind. Maybe he had a better shot at it than he ever tried to imagine.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Teacher) Reader 

Word Count: 4700+

Playlist Song: Magdalene by: The 502's

A/N: I know I said I wouldn't post another chapter until I finish writing the entire series, but I checked the follower count for the first time in a while and realized we passed 3000 followers recently!!! So I'm posting this in celebration of the 3155 people that have been kind enough to follow my writing journey and interact with stories that I put a lot of my time and effort into :) I can not explain how thankful I am for each and every one of your support!! XO

Chapter Notes: This chapter is written from the perspective of the reader. Each chapter will (for the most part) switch back and forth from Bucky and Y/N Clark's 1st person. I've read some books recently that did it in this format, and it was fun to read that way and see all points of view ;) Plus, I thought it was only fair that we saw Y/N's perspective from the last chapter, and you can get an idea of the character she will play. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it because this REALLY IS THE LAST chapter I'm posting until the series is complete. As always, please feel free to comment, even if just emojis or a few words. They all mean the world to a writer!!

Chapter 2:

I hadn't planned on going to the compound anytime soon, but Tony Stark had proved to be a sneaky man when it came to getting his way. 

When I saw Morgan Stark on my enrollment sheet, my principal made a special visit to my room during the last week of summer when we reported before the kids. I was nervous about the kind of parent relationship that was to come after how serious she made the endeavor.

My principal, who is also one of the reasons I'm not staying at this school for another year, made it a big deal and practically scared me shitless that if anything was not to Mr. Stark's liking when it came to his daughter's education, it was on me to fix or else I'd be screwed.

It was a lot of pressure, considering this was a man who had saved humanity more than once and was likely to continue to rack up that number. 

But the pressure was quickly taken away when he showed up to meet the teacher, and he and his wife, Pepper, were nothing short of kind and supportive parents every teacher hopes to work alongside of. 

Now was he a little forward and slightly egotistical? Yes. But I was prepared, considering his reputation. Pepper balanced him perfectly and quickly put him in his place if he started getting a little too brash. 

And it was quickly shown during any minor and major holiday that they were big-time gift-givers and loved to shower those that worked with them with random treats and thoughtful, yet overpriced, 'appreciations' as they called them.

I remember getting a card during Thanksgiving break that seemed simple and like any other card a parent sends as a thank you, but inside was a gift certificate for a spa day. 

And no, not just a mani and pedi or a massage. It was an entire spa day treatment including; mudbaths, facials, full body massage, hot rock therapy, mani-pedi, acupuncture, and a list of other things I had never even heard of or knew as options. They had already paid for and scheduled it for me, and they had handed it to me like a Mcdonald's gift card. 

I didn't feel right taking something like that from a parent even if I knew they were billionaires and it was equivalent to a Mcdonald's gift card to them. So I attempted to give it back and handed it back to Happy, who usually picked up Morgan and told him it was a kind offer, but I couldn't accept it. 

The next day I had a bouquet of flowers waiting for me in the front office and a card that said;

"Sorry for leaving Tony in charge of your holiday gift. He doesn't realize how intense he gets in that department… But please do treat yourself to a spa day! I changed the package so that you and your sister can enjoy it together, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as the things he added to it. We appreciate all you do for our family. You deserve the pampering!"

It was a sweet gesture, and it felt rude to not take it after they had sent it back to me. I asked my assistant principal about it, who had Tony as a parent for the last 5 years, and she also said to take it. I wasn't used to the private school demographic as much, and she assured me that though it was nicer than what most parents gift, she's seen him gift more outrageous things that Pepper had to fix in the past. 

"I had to talk him down from donating a hot air balloon ride for our field day last year. A spa gift certificate is nothing compared to what I've seen that man do…" she had said. 

So though it still felt weird, I took advantage of it and took my younger sister to the spa, and we enjoyed the massages, mani-pedi, and facials we were kindly given.

All that to say, I've learned this semester that Tony was an ornery man. He reminded me of my father when it came to how he joked in conversations and how blunt he could be about his thoughts and ideas. 

I had thrown something back to him during our first parent-teacher conference by the complete mistake of not filtering my thoughts. And when I thought I was going to get fired, he let out a loud laugh and told Pepper, "Finally, someone who can dish it back and not get butt hurt," he had laughed with a giant grin. 

I apologized quickly and rambled about how he has remarks like my dad, and it was just a reflex to say what I countered with, and Pepper laughed too. 

"It's ok, Ms. Clark. Tony needs the sass to keep him in line as often as possible."

"Yeah, it gets boring when people walk on eggshells around you. Where's the fun in etiquette?" 

That got a quick eye-roll from his wife and a slap to the arm, which he laughed at, and we continued our meeting.

Since then, I have kept a professional demeanor around him, but I also don't hold back when he needs a quick sarcastic remark to put him in his place. 

Now his sliding a resume into Morgan's homework folder was also on the list of things I was not expecting. Right next to the custom-made Stark iPad he gifted me for Labor Day. (Which who gives gifts for Labor Day?)

The resume was an offer to be a personal tutor for Morgan once she got to middle school. She was in 5th grade right now, and she was a bright girl. I don't know why he was worried about her having the extra help, but nonetheless, he offered me a job to be her full-time one-on-one tutor for next year. 

He was willing to pay me enough that I wouldn't need a second job as a teacher. I would solely be Morgan's tutor, and the benefits and pay would be enough for me to work little hours for a salary that a top surgeon in New York would make. 

A part of me struggled with the offer. I knew money-wise it would take care of everything I struggled with; rent, medical bills, helping my sister through college, and the list went on. 

I should have jumped at this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work under one of the wealthiest and most admired men alive, but my heart could never accept something like that merely because it was such an outrageous opportunity to fall in my lap. 

I kept saying in the back of my head that I hadn't joined this career for the money. It was never about the money.

The only reason I took a private school job this last year (which a friend was kind enough to get my foot in the door for) was that money was tight, and I needed the slight boost that public school funding couldn't give me. But I wasn't giving up teaching; I was just moving to a different group of kids to teach. A lot more privileged and supported demographic, but I was still influencing kids' lives.

Though after the last few months, I realized it wasn't a fit for me. As much as I wanted to make it be that and push my morals aside to continue so I could keep paying for things without going into debt, deep down, it wasn't what I signed up for. 

I was meant to help the underprivileged and poverty-level kids. I was that kid that grew up with one parent working more than one minimum-wage job to make ends meet and the other being underpaid as a school teacher themselves for most of my life. The educators who aided and encouraged me to be where I am now made me passionate about the same efforts. 

With all that to be said, I was moving back to the public school in New York after this year, and Tony had found out. 

It wasn't that I didn't care for the kids at this school. I loved them. My group of 5th graders had become 18 of my own personal children. I wanted the world for them and everything in between. The difference was they could have the world and everything in between. They had access to those resources. 

The kids I was going back to had lived in a world I knew far better than the one I was in. I wasn't of major aid to my upper-class students as much as I was to the lower class. And at the end of the day, my job wasn't about the money; I continued to remind myself. It was about the next generation getting the support they needed and deserved. 

So when I saw that Morgan had left her sweater in the classroom before the break and I had the resume in my hand, I called and asked if I could come to talk with him about it. 

I hadn't been to the compound, and the size and security of it all was nerve-racking. The number of guards, levels of clearance, and private entrances I had to go through just to meet him in the lobby was intense. 

I couldn't help but marvel at the architect and the sufficiency the place ran on while walking up the steps outside into the building. 

People were walking around in grey and neutral-colored attire, and I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb with my bright red and checkered winter coat. Though I like neutral colors, I was never one to keep strictly to that. It was near impossible for me to pass up an accessory or statement piece that popped with color. Hence why I always got the comment, "Oh, you're an elementary teacher? You definitely have the wardrobe for it." 

Thank God I spotted Tony only a few seconds after entering the foyer because there were three different reception desks, which I'm sure went to all kinds of departments of the massive establishment, but I wasn't sure which one to approach. 

He approached me with open arms and gave me a hubristic smile as I gave him a keen one in return. 

"The homework folder is meant to hold Morgan's work. Not your side hustles," I said with a raised eyebrow as I handed him a new folder with just the resume in it.

"It's work from a Stark; does that not count?" he said back, his grin never leaving. 

"Yeah, but the work I'm supposed to review is usually based on story elements and division facts. I don't think Morgan is worried about salary levels and insurance benefits at her age."

"With a work ethic like her mother and a brain like her mother… She'll be managing a place like this in no time," he placed his hands in his pockets, not taking the folder just yet. 

I handed off the sweater instead and held onto the folder, knowing I wouldn't be leaving with it either way. 

"That I can't argue. But she may want to get her math down before she starts something like that up," I held onto my tote bag with one hand and dropped the other with the folder. 

"Which is why I had that in her folder, so math and whatever else she needs help in, she can have you to h-." 

He was cut off when a tall, dark-skinned man approached abruptly. I recognized him as one of the Avengers but didn't want to seem shocked or freaked out, considering I was in their home, basically. 

"Hi," he said. 

Running to his side was a second Avenger I somewhat recognized, but he seemed more hesitant and nervous compared to the man with a sweet gap-toothed smile in front of me. 

Tony's light and teasing mood seemed to disappear with his interruption, and he took a breath before saying, "I told you I would help you after I talked with-." He was cut off as the man patted him on the arm and went to introduce himself. 

"Sam Wilson," he smiled kindly, offering his hand, which I smiled back and took. 

"Y/N Clark. Nice to meet you." 

Sam seemed to give his friend a silent look that communicated something else, and the blue-eyed man extended his hand as well. 

"James Barnes," he gave a tight-lipped smile like he was being forced to converse, but I returned a firm handshake and responded. 

"Mr. Barnes. Nice to meet you." 

I realized then I had seen this man earlier today at the coffee shop I stopped at before my errand here. I didn't have my head on straight at the time cause my sister had called saying that the repair man who was supposed to fix our balcony door had once again canceled and rescheduled. This was the fourth time now, and it felt like our apartment was crumbling beneath us with the 20 other things my landlord had kept pushing off. 

I thought I saw him staring then too, but like most strangers, I see in public, I just gave a brief smile and moved on with my day. Though in New York, I'm still learning that isn't a regular thing here. Many native New Yorkers could go the whole day not making eye contact with a single soul on the overpopulated streets. 

I brushed past the fact he was studying me like I was him, as if we were both looking for an answer to a question we didn't even know.

Tony turned all of our attention back to him as he introduced me to them briefly and promptly gave them death glares. Clearly, they were waiting on something from him, and he wasn't showing patience for what I assume were usual antics between the two with how they talked to each other. 

"Cyborge and Birdman, this is Ms. Clark. She's Morgan's teacher. Ms. Clark, these are two of my most impatient co-workers. Who I asked to give me a second before I talked with them…" 

"Thank this one for the interruption," James said while childishly shoving his friend to the point he teetered on his feet. 

"Just seemed rude to not introduce your colleagues," Sam gritted. 

"It's fine," I spoke up, attempting to break some of the tension building. And instantly, Mr. Barnes's eyes were back on me like they had been in the coffee shop. But I acted like I didn't notice and turned to Mr. Stark. "I was here to just drop off these two things anyway." 

I handed the folder off successfully this time since his attention was turned to the other two, and he took it while staring at them still. 

"Yeah, well, I had a few things I wanted to discuss without… This interruption." If looks could kill, his co-workers would be in a casket 6 feet under right where they stood. 

"I appreciate what you're offering, but I've already told you I have a job set with another district after this year."

James Barnes was grinning like a child who just got revenge, but why, I wasn't sure. 

"Yeah, but… Money." Tony said the last word like it was a magic word that would make me reconsider everything instantly and fold. 

"Money is great and all, but it's not what this is about, Mr. Stark." I couldn't help but laugh even if deep down I knew the risk I was taking not accepting his proposal. I went to readjust my tote on my shoulder as a nervous tic. "Maybe after winter break and I get some paperwork back from the new school I'll be at, we will better understand what I'll have on my plate."

"That sounds like a well-worded way to put this conversation off," Tony smirked. 

He wasn't wrong. I had worded it specifically as a way to keep it on the table for him knowing he'd never relent, but also to be able to walk away from the conversation and not get convinced out of my already made-up mind.

"It's Christmas break, Mr. Stark. Have a great vacation with your family, and happy holidays," I nodded, starting to turn out to walk, but before I was completely turned back, I looked at the other two men. "You two as well. I hope the world is kind enough to give you all a break as you deserve during this time." 

It was true. Crime and bad guys never ended, from what the news showed, and I couldn't imagine what big holidays looked like around here. 

"If I know anything about teaching, I know you'll need a break just as much," Sam shouted towards me after I was a few feet away, making me laugh.

"Happy Holidays," I said a final time before moving for the exit, thankful that the two men were there to distract Tony from trying to convince me to join his payroll. 

___________________________ 

"Oh sweet loving sister of mine, I'm home," I shouted in a sing-song voice but was abruptly cut off when I shut the door, and she stood on the other side like a damn statue. "Mother Fu-! Hallie!" I shouted after a scream let out of me first. "Why the hell are you acting like a Victorian ghost-child and standing there like that?" 

"Why didn't you tell me where you were going?" she said, quickly bypassing how she made my heart practically stop beating for 5 seconds too long. 

"I told you I was going to run errands," I answered vaguely, already knowing where she was going with this but not wanting to give her the advantage. 

"Yeah, errands don't normally involve going to the Avenger's Compound!" she shouted with her arms up as she watched me walk into the kitchen and follow me. 

"Jesus, lower your voice. We have neighbors," I grumbled, throwing my bag on the hooks on the wall and taking my coat off as well. 

"Answers, please," she crossed her arms like a mother who had just caught her daughter sneaking out to a party. 

"I had to drop off something that Morgan left at the school. I figured she'd want her coat for winter break," I answered honestly, just leaving out a few other details. 

"Like she wouldn't have a whole room for winter coats alone. Why did you really go?" Hallie continued to interrogate. 

I looked at her, and she was unwavering. I let out a huff of air, going to the fridge to grab a Dr. Pepper and the sweet cream to make my favorite drink after an eventful day. 

"I'm not lying when I said I went to drop that off," I said, pouring the soda into a glass and waiting for the foaming bubbles to go down. "And you know exactly why I didn't tell you I was going there." 

"You act like I'd go insane if I stepped a single foot on that estate," she groaned, pulling a stool out at our island/ kitchen table in the tiny New York City apartment we shared. "Even if Captain Roger's has walked on those tiles and maybe breathed in the same air and all…" 

"Here we go…" I mumbled, shaking the creamer bottle as I waited for what I knew was to come. 

"And so what if Natasha Romanoff has probably sat in the chairs or road the elevator that leads to what I assume are suites and apartments they have to themselves on the top levels?" she paused for effect as if waiting for me to confirm or deny as if I would know. But I just stared at her, and she continued without hesitation. "It's no big deal that Sam Wilson has probably flown the EX0-7 Falcon wingsuit in the field that surrounds the compound. Or maybe even hearing Steve playing an old jazz record. I know that cause there was a girl who used to live on his street when he stayed in the city, and she said there were a few nights that he would play all kinds of old songs with beautiful trumpet solos. Oh, and!" 

I absentmindedly poured the practiced amount of sweet cream into the Dr. Pepper, grabbed a straw to stir it, and took sips of it as I patiently waited for her to finish her fantasies. 

She went on about Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, and any other Avenger that came to mind until she noticed me stop sipping my drink and start to slow-blink at her. 

"Stop. I know that look," she pointed, stopping in her rant abruptly. 

"What the you-just proved-my-point look?" I fluttered my eyelashes at her and took another sip. 

"Shut up," she sneered, even though she knew I was right. 

As if he had just realized people were home, her small senior brown-haired and deaf dog came hobbling around the corner and yipped when he looked at me. 

"Hey, Chuck Norris," I sighed, and he came up to me, barking at my leg like I was an intruder in my own home. "I still don't think he's used to me."

"You say that like you didn't live with him for 10 years," Hallie laughed, walking over and picking him up with one hand and cradling him in her arm. 

"Three of those years were just visits back home. I figured after a month of you being moved in here, his memory would catch up to realize I'm still the same person when we first rescued him." 

Chuck Norris was a tiny little mutt my sister had found behind a dumpster in the parking lot of a Cracker Barrel close to where we lived when we were younger. 

The vet had said he was already about four or five when we brought him in, but he had no microchips or anything showing he belonged to someone. He was also malnourished from only eating scraps that fell out of the dumpster since he wasn't big enough to scrounge through it himself. So he came with a laundry list of things he needed fixing with his tiny weak body. 

We only ever had one cat growing up, so it was a responsibility my parents weren't too sure about taking on. But my sister being who she is, made a presentation the next night and was able to persuade them to let her keep him for at least a month to show she could handle it. 

After a month, they saw how special of a dog he was to her and how she was practically the only one he trusted, and they couldn't just send him to the pound after that. 

The laundry list of illnesses and help he was going to need to get him back on his feet led to a lot of medical bills in his future. But luckily, an old friend of mine I had gone to high school with went into Veterinary school and helped my family out a few times since we were still close. 

Now Chuck Norris lived here, and he didn't care that I, even if I was paying most of the bills, lived here along with him. He only trusted one person wholeheartedly in his life, and that was my sister. 

Now being 14, possibly 15 years old, his eyes weren't great, and he was almost a hundred percent deaf besides sharp noises he happened to hear every once in a while. I'm almost positive he had some form of dementia, too, cause he treated me like a stranger most of the time.

He must have been sleeping when I came in cause a lot of times, if he sees my walk in, he's at my feet barking and acting like he's going to be the one to bring an end to the big monster that teases and picks at his mom. 

As for the name… Don't ask. My sister's an anomaly, and that's the only answer I have to give for that.

"Back to the question at hand," my sister continued, and I groaned overdramatically before walking to the couch with my drink and turning the TV on. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to see the Tony Stark?!"

"First off, I think you answered that question when you went on your little tangent of extremely specific details. You've for sure daydreamed about the Avengers, you nerd," I started, looking up at her where she stood by the coffee table with the glossy-eyed brown mutt in her hand, who I couldn't tell was looking at me or the window that was behind me. "And second, who's to say I even saw Mr. Stark? I was just dropping off a sweater, and I could have very well just left it at reception and carried on with my day." 

"It's the fact you're saying it all as a 'could have' scenario instead of just saying you did," she deadpanned. 

She had me there, and that one was on me. 

"It's not like it's the first time I've ever met him. He is the parent of one of my students, so it's not a big deal to me anymore," I brushed it off and looked to the TV, and started mindlessly scrolling through the evening shows. 

 She immediately cut off my view by standing right in front of it.

"Move," I said, peeking my head around her body, which she quickly blocked again. 

"Once, I'm asking once, that I get to meet him," she bargained. 

"Eventually. Just not before the break. We're all tired and have been busy, him, I'm sure more than anyone, and I don't think the compound is where he wants to worry about crazy obsessed fans bombarding him," I looked at her with a big-sister stare. "Now, the whole thing is already over and done. Can I please just drink this and watch an episode of this documentary I've been waiting to decompress to all day?" 

As if I was asking too much and the universe needed to humble me, the coat rack I had hung my coat and tote bag earlier fell to the floor with a harsh crash. 

I didn't even look in the direction of the latest home improvement added to the list, but instead closed my eyes and sat up some. 

"Classic," I mumbled and started to move to the closet we kept our toolbag in, but before I could stand up, Hallie stopped me. 

"Don't. I bargained with the building repair man to come tomorrow instead of making us wait another week," she said, looking back at the damage. "He can do that as an extra fix for being an ass."

"How'd you manage that?" 

I looked at her, impressed, considering the guy was a nuisance and very much a man's man. In other words, "How could two girls on their own ever manage without a big strong man to come and save them when things fell apart?" I think he got off on being able to make us wait for him when it came to things we couldn't actually fix. Talk about a savior complex.

"I said I had to bake some cookies for one of my classes and said I would bake some extra if he came sooner," she shrugged. 

"You're a musical theater major. What class is having you bake cookies?" I gave her a weird look. 

"None. I just didn't want him to think I was baking them just for him," she said with a witty smile. 

"Attagirl," I chuckled, patting the couch next to me. "Just for that, I'll let you pick which documentary we binge tonight." 

"Why is it always with the documentaries?" she huffed, sitting next to me despite acting like she was upset with the option. 

"Don't lie and act like you don't get sucked in." I stood up and put the now half-empty drink down. "I'm going to change, but look through the ones we've already started and pick from those."

"Does Unsolved Supernatural with Shane and Ryan count?" I heard her shout as I turned into my room. 

Normally the answer was no, but I could go for something fun and not so serious. 

"Sure, but pick a good episode!" I shouted back. "Let Christmas break commence…" 

The tags have not been acting right as of lately, so if I tagged you and you did get a notification, please let me know! I'm trying to see if people are getting the notifications or not. Thank you!

Let me know if you want to be tagged by sending me an ask here!

Finding Memories Taglist:

@tinkerbelle67 @a-beaverhausen​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @caruhleener​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @fanfictionjunkie1112​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @sjsmith56​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @nancymcl​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @kaygilles​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @laisbeltrans​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @matchat3a​​​​​​​​​​ @ambrosia1846​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @peachiestevie​​​​​​​​​​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @srrymydood​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xa-dia​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @morganclaire4​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @connie326​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-asguard​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @livstilinski @basicallylool​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

alice, on a wednesday

alice hadn't asked about annie in a while. that was fine, annie knew alice had a lot going on. both her parents had recently been sick for a while, and the prospect of having to care for them both in the near future was making her despair and was causing her to dig up old resentments. when annie pointed out that alice seemed to almost be justifying in advance her plans to put her parents in some kind of care facility, alice told her to fuck herself.

"there's nothing wrong with that," annie said. "putting them in a home, i mean. you have money. you're successful. that's one of the perks."

"what do you spend your money on?" alice asked. "you dress well, but i mean, you could drive a much fancier car." annie's car was almost always parked at her office because she walked from her apartment. the truth was, annie had a significant savings and really only spent money on going out to eat and buying drugs. but she knew not to tell alice about the drugs.

her cocaine usage was up. annie did blow with julia, jim and robbie a lot, and also with claire and sophie, who were sort of a couple now and were sort of a newly forming friend group. several nights earlier, a few days after fucking richard, annie had engaged in a threesome with sophie and claire. it had been electric. they'd taken a lot of pictures, and annie had showed them to julia, and jim, and robbie, and even her dad. she wondered who sophie showed pictures to.

annie had deliberately chosen a particular photo to send her dad, one of her and sophie scissoring while claire touched herself over them. she loved the three bald pussies all together, thought it was quite beautiful. she'd asked her dad if he could tell which one was her. he'd guessed correctly of course.

"if your mom died," annie asked alice, "and your dad asked you to suck him off, would you do it?"

"do they discuss hypotheticals like this in therapy school?" alice said.

"only in the dorms," annie said.

alice laughed. "you mean like... how long has she been dead in this scenario?"

"two weeks," annie said. "and you know, your dad, he's not used to not cumming so much. your mom was there to relieve the tension. now she's not. which is why he's asking you."

"i can think of several women he'd go to first if my mom was dead," alice laughed.

"but let's say he doesn't. maybe they're all dead too."

"very brutal hypothetical. okay. uh, yeah, if he ASKED me to, I would."

"you wouldn't think it was gross."

"no," i mean, my preference is pussy but if the roles were reversed and my mom asked i would say no."

"me too."

"but you're more straight than i am," alice said. "i mean i can tell you're exploring the other side."

"you can?"

"your nails are shorter and you look at me differently," alice said. "you look at me the way men do. and recent converts."

"i'm sorry," annie said. "i didn't realize i was..."

"it's fine. who doesn't like being objectified? i'm 41, i don't have many more years of that ahead of me."

annie thought of her mom and the way robbie talked to her.

"what prompted the dad blowjob question anyway?"

"just something i was talking about with a friend."

"and you both said you would do it?"

"yeah," annie said. "i would have a hard time not fucking him."

alice laughed. "if my mom was dead i would probably entertain the idea of fucking my dad. like in the way some women start wearing their mother's clothes when they die."

"yeah," annie said. "huh."

fathers were still on her mind when marie's session started an hour later. she'd been putting off annie's instructions to masturbate and so annie was digging in on why.

"when your dad told you it was a sin, was it because he caught you doing it?"

"no," marie said. "i caught him."

"oh," annie said. "interesting."

"i walked in on him in his room pleasuring himself, and he told me he was sorry, and that i shouldn't do it because it was sinful."

"at that point, had you tried it?"

"yes," she said.

"and did seeing him do it, did that... i don't know, did that ruin it for you?" annie asked.

"i guess it was... an unflattering view of him."

"sure."

"but," she started.

"but what?" annie said.

"my husband, you know, when my husband and i have sex, he often uses his hand to finish and... i like that. i like watching that a lot."

"at the risk of asking a really reductive question, is your husband's penis... bigger?"

marie laughed. annie was excited to get a laugh out of her. "yes," she said, proudly. "significantly bigger."

"you and your husband have sex pretty often?" annie asked.

"yes," she said. "five or six times a week."

"has that always been the case?"

"when the kids were very young, no," she said. "we didn't have the energy."

"do you think he jerked off much during that time?"

"oh, i assume so."

"does that bother you?"

"no," she said. "does it make any sense if i saw it doesn't because my husband isn't religious?"

"that makes sense. he's not obeying your parents' value system because he doesn't share it."

"yes."

"but you do."

"yes. i think so."

"maybe you don't?" annie suggested. "maybe that's part of the resentment."

"i'm a christian," marie said.

"sure," annie said. "maybe."

marie took this in.

"it's great that your husband has a big dick," annie said.

marie laughed again.

"maybe you could start by masturbating for him," annie suggested. "as part of your sexual activity. maybe you could both just jerk off for each other. you could watch him, and he could watch you."

"people do that?" marie asked, blushing.

"yeah," annie said. "my boyfriend and i used to do that most mornings." she was thinking of her first college boyfriend, scott, whom she'd been with for almost three years.

"it's a compelling idea," marie said.

when marie left, ted's daughter lucy was sitting in her waiting room.

"hey lucy," she said. "want to come talk?"

lucy was mad at annie for dumping her father, though she told annie, ted had seemed to take it just fine.

"that's because once your father had sex with me we had nothing left between us," she said. "that was all we wanted. just to experience it."

"but you've created a vacuum. every time there's a vacuum, my aunt swoops in again."

"your dad's sister. who isn't shaved."

"yes," lucy said. "she's around all the time again. she comes to our apartment from the gym just so she can shower with the door open and get dressed in front of my dad."

"i respect the hustle," annie said.

lucy groaned.

"lucy, what do you want from me?" annie said. "you know what to do. you know how to get attention. just do it. bring home a boy and fuck him with the door open. lounge around in cute panties all day. you've got this."

lucy apologized for barging in; annie told to her stop by any time.

[epelletea]

Are These TWST Characters Ready to Date?

A/N: This one isn’t’t really a true disneyfy post but I had this little thought of hm which characters would actually be ready for a relationship or not. So here we are! I tried to make it still cute as possible tho :) also some of these are brutally honest or silly

♡ Most of them are going to be a No but I’ll explain why I think this. But don’t worry I did say yes to some characters so not all hope is lost plus this is just a silly little headcanon and thoughts I had

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Heartslaybul + Che’Nya

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

🌹 Riddle Rosehearts

Personally, he’s not quite ready for a relationship just yet. I feel as if he wants to try and focus on his personal issues first before he can get into especially try and fix his relationship with his mom or cut her out of his life.

He wants to be fully ready and prepared to go into a relationship. He wants to be mentally ready for his S/O. The last thing he would want is to become their personal baggage.

So, overall give him some to time to work on himself and his other issues and he’ll be ready to date :)

♣️Trey Clover

It’s not that he’s not ready. It’s more like it wasn’t on his mind.

He’s many other things on his mind that being his family business, school work and etc.

So anything remotely related to relationships and romance wasn’t really exactly on his mind.

But this doesn’t mean he isn’t ready. He actually is quite ready or at least doesn’t mind having an S/O.

It would be nice to have something more than just platonic love from someone.

So go ahead and ask him out! It’s probably a 50/50 if he says yes or not but go ahead and take the risk!

♦️Cater Diamond

Oh must definitely not.

He is not ready for any fully committed relationship.

However… he will do flings or at least causal date.

Now hear me out. He obviously doesn’t want anyone to really get to know him. None of that personal deep shit (even though he really should open himself and GET THERAPY!)

At least with casual dating, he doesn’t really need to form a real close relationship with them. He can just come and go as he pleases.

God forbid, he ever starts feeling real emotions towards them that’s when he gotta run.

He also has to deal with his obvious personal issues and family issues… he might just need to cut off his sisters at this point.

So yeah sorry Cater lovers, he’s not exactly ready for a committed relationship but he’ll casually date you but don’t be surprised when it’s cut short.

♥️Ace Trappola

If I remember correctly, he has already dated in his life. So he has actually been in a silly little relationship.

I’m going to be 100% honest with you all. I have no idea if he is ready for one or not.

I feel like he’s also a casual dater but wouldn’t mind if the relationship happens to get a little deeper and personal.

This might be short because again I have no idea for him. So go ahead and date this skrunkle he wouldn’t mind.

But be a little wary, I feel like their would be some ups and downs. Maybe a little arguing but overall a plain simple relationship.

♠️Deuce Spade

He’s not ready or at least feels he’s not ready

I feel like speaking about romance and anything related to it would send him into a flustered frenzy which is really cute of him.

He doesn’t think he’s ready because you know his delinquent history and then schoolwork. Yeah his mind is cluttered with so many things so dating would be another thing to clutter on his mind.

He wouldn’t know what to do because then he will be stuck in the mindset of just wanting to please his S/O and make them proud just like how he wants to make his mother proud.

But rest assured, I think a relationship would do him well actually. If he had a S/O it would help calm him down and I don’t know I feel like it would do really well for him.

So go ahead and date him! You might wanna try and convince him first.

Che’Nya

I don’t know anything about him good enough to not say that he’s ready for a relationship.

Therefore go ahead and date him.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Savanaclaw

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Leona Kingscholar

Sorry honey, he’s not ready for a relationship.

I don’t even think he wants a relationship at the moment.

Now I don’t wanna people to think it’s because he’s “lazy” or anything. It’s actually not that.

He needs to get out this really depressive mindset he has going on in his head. The real reason why he is so “lazy” in the first place.

He doesn’t really have the motivation to quite do anything. He knows his worth and is actually really good at a lot of things but he’s just stuck in this loop of “what’s the point” or “it’s no use” and keep shoving down all those emotions and skills he has to just sleep it away.

It’s going to be a really long while before he’ll be ready to get into a relationship. He really badly needs to work on getting himself out of those dumps.

The first step of that should be him graduating out of NRC.

Ruggie Bucchi

Romance is the last thing on his mind right now and could not really care for it.

He’s more focused on the whole ordeal thing with Leona and also trying to gain a little bit more money for himself.

Unless you are walking stack of cash. Don’t expect him to be dating yet.

Keyword on that yet. Let him get some money first and himself together and he’ll get right back to you.

Jack Howl

He’s just like Ruggie. It’s not really a thing on his brain and I wouldn’t exactly say he doesn’t care for it?

It’s a little complicated than that. He thinks dating will be nice but just not right now.

His current goal is to try and become stronger.

After his whole training thing maybe he’ll think about getting an S/O.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Octavinelle

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Azul Ashengrotto

I want to say yes but he’s not ready for one.

He probably doesn’t even think about dating.

But if he was too. Yeah honey he’s absolutely not even the slightest bit of interested.

Although it would be really cute if he did get one.

He also needs to work on himself before he can get into the dating scene. I’m sure he would want to be mentally prepared first before he can just jump right into dating someone.

Floyd Leech

Dating? Romance? Love?

Oh Boy, I think we have another casual dater on our hands.

I feel like he doesn’t want anything too serious on his plate right now so casual dating is the best course for him.

He is not ready for any fully committed relationship. I feel like being in a committed relationship for him would seem like it’s too much work or restricting his freedom.

So you can date him but don’t feel like it’ll last long unless you really touched his heart. Until then don’t be surprised with a sudden breakup and the reasoning of it being is that he “got bored” of you.

Jade Leech

Now I want to say he is like Floyd. But he’s not.

I’ve said it before in a post before about Jade and dating.

It’s not on his mind at all actually. But if you bring up to him I’m sure he wouldn’t mind having a lover.

Quite different from Floyd way, he wouldn’t be into the casual dating thing. He’s more of “waiting for the right one” type.

So is he ready to date? Yes actually. I think he would be quite the gentleman in a relationship.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Scarabia

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Kalim Al Asim

He is a bundle of joy. But I don’t think he’s quite ready yet to get into dating although he probably thinks he is.

When I think of Kalim, I think of Joy from Inside Out. They’re doing their absolute best for others and so much more. But they keep pushing their problems to the side and try to cover it up pushing this toxic positivity onto themselves.

He would be an absolute amazing S/O. But he needs to know that it’s okay to not always be happy and to have some doubt about things.

But if you’re gonna date him, try and help him out bit and bring some reality to him. He doesn’t want to know the real truth about things which is understandable but someone’s going to have to tell him.

Jamil Viper

I don’t think so.

One he is not ready and two he’s definitely ain’t thinking about it either.

With his whole ordeal with Kalim and his own personal issues. Yeah he’s not mentally ready enough to be in one.

Plus I don’t think he wants one at the current moment. Thought it would be nice, he has probably once thought about it.

But he wants to have this freedom of just himself first before he can let in another person into his life.

Just give a him a few months to breathe.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Pomefiore + Neige

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Vil Schoenheit

Odd enough, no he’s not and he’s aware of this.

He wants to work on himself and get his insecurity issues on check before he can date someone.

He wants to better himself for his this future S/O. He wants to show them his beauty in many ways and forms but right now he has to fix this.

But when he is ready , oh be rest assured he will be the best lover there is out there.

Plus I also feel like he’s another person who is “waiting for the right one”

Rook Hunt

Oh honey. He’s been ready to get into a relationship.

This is the Rook Hunt we are talking about here.

However, he’s deeply into the “Happily Ever After” thing

So be ready to get pulled into a loving and long lasting relationship with him.

Epel Felmier

(omg that’s me /t)

Oh Love. He’s not ready.

I think it’s little silly go to think this way but I feel like he wants to be more “manlier” to get into a relationship.

As we all know, Epel has this inner toxic masculinity thing he has. He wants to be more manlier and tougher Like the people in Savanaclaw.

Although he needs to realize that you can still be a man and be well feminine.

Let him work out his inner demons first and he’ll get back to you.

Neige LeBlanche

I don’t know quite a lot about his character other than he’s just Snow White.

And if I remember much from Snow White she generally very friendly and cute.

So, sure go ahead and date him. I think he’s ready!

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Ignihyde

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

🎮Idia Shroud

I am going to be 100% honest with you all once again.

Absolutely not.

BUT !

A relationship will do him really well. So please date him! I’m begging!!

Just hear me out. He is mentally not there and probably not that stable and I’m realizing as I type this…. this is seeming like a “I can fix him” situation.

No because I’m telling you! It would definitely fix him in some way! An S/O would do him so well and good for him.

He’ll probably start talking more and go outside quite a lot if his S/O wants him too.

I’m begging someone please date this man.

💙Ortho Shroud

N0 <3

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Diasomnia

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Malleus Draconia

We all wanna date him. But is he ready to date?

My answer is… yes but no???

I’m quite indifferent on him.

I personally feel like he is ready because hes been lonely for so long. Having a S/O would be magical and amazing for him.

He would really enjoy having another person around and especially sharing that romantic bond.

But something is also telling me that maybe he should wait just a little longer. I dont have quite the explanation yet.

But yes, go ahead and date the poor dragon man. He needs someone.

Lilia Vanrouge

Oh must definitely. He’s getting pretty old and he’s going to want to settle down soon.

This old man has probably already been in relationships before and already know all the ropes. He’s just been keeping it steady so he can watch over Malleus.

But now, I think it’s time for him get out some more and start mingling around with people his age (if it’s possible)

You know find someone to truly settle down with and probably live eternally with until death do them apart.

You know… old people things.

Silver

Dating is not a really thing on his mind.

But he has once thought of having someone special.

But it usually gets shoved to the side and goes back to focusing on whatever important task at hand.

Sebek Zigvolt

Absolutely not.

He is just like Decue.

If you come to him asking him about anything romantic or related to it he will become redder than a tomato.

How could you ask such a “inappropriate” topic to him! How dare you!

Silliness aside, he’s really not interested in dating right now. His main priority is Malleus Draconia.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

[invisibleraven]

Texting each other cute pictures for Rulie plz and thank you?

Julie inhaled the crisp fall air, smiling at the range of colours of the leaves, so different from the palm trees she was used to. But here she was, thousands of miles from LA and the closest beach.

Sure it was hard to be so far away from her friends and family, but the opportunity to study at one of the most prestigious schools in the country was worth it.

She still took a shot of the falling leaves, sending it to Reggie, knowing he would love it, always appreciating a good autumnal shot.

Reggie: Please tell me you're going to find a leaf pilem to jump in.

Julie: If I didn't have a class on the importance of the jazz era I totes would

Reggie: Bah, leaf pile sounds way better than a boring jazz class. Do it Julie, do it for the vine!

Julie: Vine has been gone longer than it was around sweetie

Reggie: TikTok?

Julie chuckles and sends him a kiss emoji, rushing off to class... but maybe stops and kicks up a small pile of leaves, just for the fun of it.

The next day Reggie sends her a picture of a sandcastle he presumably found while doing his lifeguarding gig, but he could have also built knowing him. She misses sand, despite it's ability to get everywhere.

This is what they do when they don't have time to video chat or even make a phone call, they send pictures back and forth. Reggie sending her bits of home, which sometimes make her homesick, but mostly warm her heart. She sends back bits of her day so everyone stops worrying so much.

The long distance thing has been hard on them, but they've made it work. Visiting whenever they can, keeping in constant communication, and as soon as Julie graduates in the spring, she's hell bent on going home.

Reggie had offered to come with her, but the band was getting big at the time, so she urged him to stay. Now they have hits on the radio, and he does jobs part time to keep busy while they aren't recording but doesn't have enough time to come to the East Coast.

Julie wonders what she's going to do with her life back home while her boyfriend gets more and more famous. Her double degree in composition and music therapy could be used wherever. Both Luke and Reggie have offered her a job as the band's song writer, with Luke even saying she's welcome to sing with them.

But Julie, while tempeted, wants to use music to help people in a different way. Sure she might help pen a tune or two, but there's a therapy centre in Los Feliz that helped her mom still make music during chemo that looks like the perfect place for her.

For now, Julie snaps a picture of the hot chocolate she has-towering pile of whipped cream that she knows will make Reggie jealous. He sends back a shot of his beer, bottle dripping condensation, the ocean in the background of his little beach front house.

A house that has all her stuff in it for when she comes back. The house she stays in every time she visits, even if her old room is there and waiting for her.

A house that she is positive has a diamond ring waiting for her, given Reggie once accidently took a picture of it and sent it to her instead of Alex. She had promised him she would act surprised, and he had promised she would be when he asked.

But Julie loved his surprises, though she warned him that if one of them was a puppy without her getting to meet it first they were having a long conversation about it.

If he had sent her pictures of his various visits to the animal shelter after that, Julie became a little bit suspicious, but she did help pick out Ellie during her visit the summer. Now she got daily shots of Ellie, and Reggie got pictures of the little toys and accessories Julie bought her.

Pictures of course weren't enough, they didn't substitute the real thing. But May was only a few short months away, and Julie could survive on them until then.

But she knew when she got home, the first thing she was doing was getting a million shots of her and Reggie, reunited at least to decorate the walls of them home with.

[cookiesncreamlover17]

Yandere!Damian Wayne x Reader Pt.3

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Mention Of Rape/Murder, Stalking, Abuse, Death, & Anorexia

🇺🇸Word Count🇺🇸: 666

👾Characters👾: 3,631

But little did you know that none of the males in front of your unconscious form where going to keep that promise.

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

“Uhhh Bruce”? Cyborg spoke.

”Yes Victor” Batman sighed deeply.

“Where did you find her again”? Victor asked.

“I told you already, Joker decided to keep a few girls hostage and she was the only one who survived” Bruce answered.

“I don’t think she’s the only survivor of just one of Jokers attacks” he mumbles barely herd by Batman.

“What”?! Batman asked in a high pitched tone yet slightly shaky.

“According to her file she’s been through a lot. From rape to body damage”. Cyborg answered slightly scared of what Batman’s response would be.

“What the hell does that mean”? Batman asked.

“According to her file, when she was ten years old she was taken for two and a half years by some man named Chris Peterson. It says he brutally raped her, but she found a way to escape. He is currently spending a life time in prison. It also says this isn’t the first time Chris has taken girls and raped them. Some of them were even unfortunately killed”. Cyborg answered in a shaky voice.

Batman could only wonder to himself what more you could have gone through without a single word being brought to him, the justice league, or even his civilian form.

“What else does it say”? He questioned.

“It says that she did (s/n) since she was kid. Her coaches forced her into eating less, and she even received a few injury’s on her body from the sport”. Cyborg said with a “damn” placed after it.

“But that’s not all. Her mother went missing when she was a baby, and apparently because of that she doesn’t have the best relationship with her father at the moment”. Cyborg once again spoke.

“Maybe we could get her into therapy. Or something that will help her relax into her life”. Cyborg suggested.

“I swore to my family that we were never to meet or speak of her” Bruce said quietly.

“The kids only thirteen, Bruce. She needs a proper adult to take care of her.

Then it hit Batman. Maybe you didn’t need a parental figure, but more like a friend (or a new family). Someone around your age who could get you the help you needed. And who was better then his own son. The best of the best.

Damian Fucking Wayne.

_________________________________________

“Boys” Bruce shouted in the house.

They all came in to the room a little confused on why Bruce was yelling at 1 in the morning.

“What’s up”? Jason asked.

“That girl we saved last night, she….., she needs our help. I know I said that we shouldn’t speak or see her ever again, but I have come to the realization that it is best for everyone if we keep a close eye on her. At least for now”.

“Why, what happened”? Dick asked.

“She is going through some pretty damaging stuff right now. I won’t get into to detail right now because when she speaks to you. All of you. That is how you’ll know she trusts you. Tim, I want you to send a letter to [Address]. This letter will include that all expenses of her new school at Gotham Academy will paid for. I want you to make it look like the government wishes for her to go there. In the letter you shall not state who the money is coming from, just make sure she comes to this school”. Bruce said firmly.

There stood all of the boys smiling like idiots (some smiling on the inside) ready to take on who might become like a little sister to them. Or more.

Written: Tuesday, July 25, 2023

[cavehags]

wild that you can understand that schitt's creek should have ended with the family staying in their new home with their new friends and loved ones but ted lasso has to go and be miserable in kansas because thats where his son lives.

first of all, i'm dying that these were sent 20 minutes apart. sorry if i ruined your day, i guess?

okay, let's start with: why would he need to be miserable in kansas? he's a positive guy. seemed to be having fun in that clip when he was dancing with his football🏈 team. his depression and panic attacks in london are entirely triggered by reminders that he's not being with his son, thus leaving him to grow up without a father just like ted did. this would not be a problem for ted in kansas. your prediction that ted would kill himself if he goes home to america makes zero sense to me.

henry is experiencing important milestones of his childhood without ted, and if ted lets that go on too long, he's going to feel like a stranger in his son's life. in 2x06, ted gets a call from henry's school because henry forgot his lunch, and ted feels awful about not being able to help. in 3x06, henry gets in trouble for bullying--incidentally, something i understand they call "fatherless behavior" on tiktok. in 3x01, ted says that he feels guilty about sending henry to fly across the world all by himself, and then goes on to say: "i do wonder sometimes what the heck i'm still doing here. i mean, i knew why i came, but it's the sticking around i can't quite figure out. [...] maybe my being here is doing more hurting than helping at this point. from all this, it's clear that ted himself is aware that he misses henry badly and wants to be closer to him.

henry, in turn, is doing everything he can to form a closer bond with ted despite the geographical distance (playing soccer, watching ted's games, even coming to idolize his top players). and that's very sweet, but it's very sad that henry is forced to cobble together a relationship with his dad by just trying to get to know him better from afar! we don't see ted reciprocating the same level of interest. a good father would be there for henry physically, taking him to and from his games, talking to him about the circumstances going on in his life that made him lash out at that other kid, and bringing him his lunch when he forgets it. ted is letting henry down and allowing a rift to develop in their relationship that won't be able to heal if he doesn't go back before it's too late. also, on top of what this is doing to henry, it's also important to add that putting all the responsibilities of parenting in michelle's hands is incredibly selfish.

finally, while it is perfectly possible to maintain good relationships long distance, that applies to friendships between adults. ted hasn't made a lot of close friends in london - he has a heart-to-heart with rebecca maybe twice per season and zoom therapy sessions with sharon - but there's no reason he couldn't continue those friendships from abroad. those are relationships between equals, where each party is equally capable of visiting the other, and where, to be candid, it's not going to fuck up anyone's life if the friendships do eventually peter out. parenting is different. ted owes henry something he doesn't owe anyone else. and he knows that and that's why he's going to fix it.

[tumblingxelian]

ML Season 6 Wish Fulfillment Outline

This is never going to happen but its what I want to happen, so here's the gist:

Starts in media res like the first season, Akuma are causing trouble on Lila's behalf but are being easily handled by the team.

But if you look closely you can see a Red Akuma flittering in the background sometimes that fuses with the person post purification.

Marinette's life is basically perfect, old friends and new a boyfriend, no school bullies, its great.

We see that Lila's new identity has managed to weave her way into Marinette, Adrien, Kagami & Felix's circle.

When we see Lila operating its obvious she has an accomplice who is powering her up as Nathalie once did Gabriel for Heroes Day.

This person is Chloe, seemingly being controlled via the Amok-Bracelet from season one & described as "empty" by Lila.

Things start going off the wheels however when Lila 'finds out' about Kagami's Amok & questions if she really knows she loves Felix or not.

Kagami finds out that while Felix never commanded her to love him, he did make it so she had a rose tinted view of him. He offered to let her do the same to him. She Akumatized & thrashed him, causing his Miraculous to be taken.

To his nominal credit, Felix does accept he did a terrible thing and refuses to Akumatize over it to 'get his happy ending. This causes Marinette to realize that she can't keep hiding things from Adrien and reveals the truth.

Suffice to say, lots of drama, they are on break at best, Marinette does Akumatize but pulls out of it as she keeps getting flashes of stuff she feels bad about that undermines her sense of anger.

Lila delights in the suffering & its revealed she is actually Chameleon. Basically, Hawk Moth harassed her dreams with Akuma to prime her for Heroes Day but it led to an Akuma being born inside her that took over, now it wants god hood.

This is also where we find out, Chloe was the one who broke the Peacock when Audrey made her. Thank you @generalluxun which is also why her Amok doesn't let one command her, but merely makes her easier to Akumatize if one has it. Lila briefly freaks out but determines she & Kgamai who is now under her thrall, are 'empty. We see a gold & red Akuma vanish into her back.

Things continue to progress with escelating Kuma & Sentimonster attacks & also Adrien prodding into various bits of his life that confuse him.

He & Marinette are secretly attending therapy sessions, but the camera makes it seem like they are always alone rather than sometimes.

This includes finding out Jean cannot find where Chloe lives to send Mr Cuddles & Jean musing on caring more about her than either of her parents did given their Akuma to Zoe after she & Andre have their first fight from her acting overshadowing his film making skill.

We also find out after an Anance battle that Kim is indeed afraid of spiders & even Marinette has no idea what the hell the spider prank is about. Lila muses that was something she orchestrated in secret to further isolate Chloe & only she & Adrien had even been in that pool.

This is when the cast start putting together someone very deft is pulling the strings and there is likely more going on, putting Chameleon on the clock.

We see gold & red Akuma link with Caline, Jean, Sabrina, Felix, Marinette & Adrien in secret. Also Adrien via Plagg maybe discovering Chloe & Kagami have been captured in his own investigation, & while they get away its an important reveal.

Everything comes to ahead when Lila plans to reveal Marinette's lies about Gabriel to the whole world... & gets beaten to the punch by Ladybug telling the truth.

There's still enough anger to utilize but its not what she wanted, especially as hating Marinette/Ladybug is what keeps the Akuma going & without it she'll fade.

Lots of big battles with lots of Akuma & those with red & gold reveal themselves as basically harboring parts of Chloe & Kagami's psyche that are rebelling against Lila & want to help.

A big show of Marinette's growth is that she both trusts them and is willing to make a group plan, with a lot of emphasis placed on Adrien's contributions to the plan.

Especially as it involved him becoming Chat Blanc and attacking Ladybug to distract Lila & make her feel she's won. Though Rena is on back up with illusions.

An Akumatized & transformed Sabrina breaks into Chameleon's base with Lila's mothers when it seems like she's won & the Mega-Akuma activates, letting Lila split herself from Chameleon who is them protected by Nino.

We see the mothers searching for Lila in background scenes throughout the season.

Chameleon makes a last gasp attempt for the Miraculous, but the illusions drop & she gets sucker punched with Cataclysm the thousand butterflies that made her up being purified by a Mega Miracle Cure.

The final episode is basically falling action showing the next year taking place, covering stuff like:

Marinette & Adrien's therapy sessions & the emphasis on the idea of being happy on one's own terms over someone else's.

The Kwami all spoiling their finally returned siblings as well as a subtly resolution with Chloe & Pollen.

New shows demonstrating how Hawk Moth manipulated the likes of Chloe & Lila to help sway public opinion.

Lila re-integrating into society.

The rich kids with shitty parents divorcing them to thunderous applause.

Jean taking over the hotel.

Marinette & Chloe's resolution, with Chloe conceding it wasn't the other girls job to salvage her & Marinette saying she has a better idea of how someone could choose to do things they know are bad for love.

A lot of minor fun things showing emerging dynamics like study and gaming sessions ETC.

Finally it caps off in the park where the statue of Gabriel has been replaced by a giant glowing dance floor. XY, Nino, Jagged Stone & Kitty Section are performing at the first annual Kwami Family Reunion Celebration.

We see more stuff, like Chloe & Kagami seemingly being together & talking with Juleka. Zoe and Lila dancing to the music. Kwami celebrating and chilling with people. Felix & Sabrina engaging in a spirited debate. The Guardian Monks doing a choreographed dance.

Then cap off with Marinette & Adrien taking five away from the party to talk and decide to give it another go. No secret identities, no secrets and not no surprises as both reveal a present for the other.

& that's how I'd handle that!

[firendgold]

Dumbledore for the unhinged character bingo?

but of course!

whew boy, no bingos but this was a lot.

guess we'll go left to right row by row?

Daddy Issues: um, yeah. It might be glossed over in canon and fanon, but it seems pretty clear that Albus has at least some. Percival Dumbledore was taken from him early, after a moment where he lost control and inflicted violence on those who were both crueler and weaker than him, all in the name of protecting his family. That probably left very deep impressions on the young Albus' psyche: both I can't let myself be locked away like he was, my family needs me and doing the right thing means suffering.

Adult!Albus takes many risks and makes many choices that lead to unhappiness twined with safety, and I think it all comes back to his parents and his home life. We also don't ever see him with a mentor: we know he "worked with" Nicolas Flamel but we don't have a clear idea of how close they were, how long they worked together or anything like that. Like many men in the HP series, he's probably another one who searches in vain for a father figure to replace his original one.

*Incoherent sobbing*: me every day since I finished Half-Blood Prince as a kid, honestly. I'm still not over it. Deathly Hallows was the second of the one-two punches. And then more Dumbledore and Dumbledore family meta is coming out all the time, digging into just how lonely Albus must have been for years and years. Think about how the people he let himself love toward the end of his life all either died or nearly died. Think about how major themes of Albus' life story are trust and love and betrayal. You'll start crying too.

Angst Angst ANGST: So, Albus never gets to be a child past the age of about ten. His parents' combined choices mean that he has to spend all his school years lying to most of his acquaintances about the most intimate parts of his home life and his sister. He also learns a lot of direct and indirect fucked up lessons that stick with him until he's at least seventeen. His brother resents him. His father dies in jail with people cursing his name. His mother is killed by his sister as he graduates school. Then, at seventeen-almost-eighteen, Albus falls in love!... with a budding fascist and future genocidal murderer. They plot to Take Over the World, but in a nice way maybe?

And then The Big Fight happens, Ariana dies too, Aberforth becomes estranged from him, Grindelwald leaves and his whole worldview gets upended. Rather than take some time to go to therapy, Albus spends the rest of his life overachieving to make up for what he did, never allowing himself the weakness of personal attachments... that is, until he finds himself having budding fatherly feelings for Harry. But since he didn't do any of that therapy stuff, he fucks up at a critical moment and chooses his long-dead family over said potential-son by putting on an old ugly ring, and then he dies to try and save the wizarding world with a convoluted plan that worked by miracle's light. The end.

God fucking damn it let them be happy: This is directed more at the fandom than it is at That Woman. Can y'all please write something nice about Albus and Harry for once instead of the same mustache-twirling manipulative fascist-fucking greater good garbage? I'm so sick of it lol.

I want to cradle them gently in my arms: I mean... Albus would not let me. He's almost allergic to intimacy. But if he would...

Go to FUCKING therapy: ...self-explanatory in my other answers. I am firm in my belief that if Albus had just gone to fucking therapy he would be alive today, searching google for funny Muggle cat videos and sending them to his hot old French boyfriend. And he and Harry would meet up for tea and biscuits every week because they would have long since sorted out all their issues and moved on to just loving each other. *sniff*

WHY Are They Like This: tru. I mean... I have a general idea of Why Albus Is The Way He Is, but it doesn't mean I don't still ask this question often. The fact that we got a whole movie called The Secrets of Dumbledore but we didn't learn any of Albus' important fucking secrets kind of supports my unhinged obsessed researching though.

I'm SO normal about them: ...*nervous laughter*

I would take a bullet for them: ...or, you know, I would if he wasn't dead already. But if we're talking about all the incorrect and unnecessary shots he takes from the fandom, then absolutely this applies.

LEAVE. THEM. ALONE!: seriously, fandom, holy shit. Don't y'all want to attack some people who have slid past morally gray territory and into "actual irredeemable monster" territory once in a while? You know, like some of those green-robed fellows you lust after?

Mommy Issues: oh, broooo. if Albus has daddy issues then he for sure has mommy issues too. Kendra Dumbledore shaped the majority of his life by virtue of being the only parent around in his formative years. All the things she taught him keep cropping up in his mannerisms and decisions even a hundred years later. Secrets, misdirection, hiding people and things and ideas away... draw a line back to his mum and you've solved half the puzzle.

Hey do you want to hear a ten hour speech about this character: because I don't like going outside, it would be more of a "five hour tumblr post" that's a billion paragraphs, but yeah. I can almost always find something new to talk about with Albus. ^^

And that's everything! Thanks and sorry it took me so long!

[inquirenorth]

It’s a slow day at work and I could do stuff I’m supposed to or I could complain about how fucking horrible of an episode Bound is.

Ignoring the puritanical bs and slut shaming for a second. This is the episode that starts the Lionel Luthor Redemption Arc™ that is just so disrespectful. Lionel Luthor is The Asshole of the show. He’s abused his wife and child (likely would have done the same to Julian). He framed his son for murder and when it didn’t work pretended it was all done for Lex’s benefit (???). He fired a whole ass company that employed the majority of the population in this small ass town. He coerced a high school student into investigating another high school student (Chloe had a hand in that sure but she’s also a lovesick teenager with abandonment issues and low-self esteem…easy pickings for Lionel). He lied about being blind so he could spy on people?????? He gifted a married woman a very “secret affair” watch?????? He only felt bad about subjecting his child to unnecessary electroshock therapy (twice) after he realized Lex knew Clark’s secret. He traded Clark for Lex at Summerholt, subjecting a minor to an experimental brain treatment without his prior knowledge let alone his consent, so that he could get to Clark’s secret. He fully planned to switch bodies with his son, letting Lex die in his place just because Lex had him convicted for a murder he was 100% guilty off. Like…this is a Bad Dude. Lex isn’t a saint but Lionel isn’t a sinner, he’s a whole ass monster. Not even going to mention the whole Lucas thing.

Then we have the Kent parents (specifically Johnathan) defending Lex by saying he’s just doing what he’s learned from his father (re: sleeping with women and sending earrings by courier just like his father did) in one breath and then in another saying the Luthors will never change. Like hey maybe don’t group a man literally in prison for murder with his son who sleeps with an average of one rando per month. Sure the fact that he doesn’t remember then hints at self-destructive tendencies and yeah he should maybe consider therapy but he won’t because the same man in prison for murder literally “gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss”ed his one and only son into a mental institution and had his brain fried so said son wouldn’t remember anything about said murder. And Lex’s therapist was in on it so of course he’s not gonna trust therapy. Regardless, yeah Lex won’t change if he stays in this lame-ass town where you can’t do anything fun without being branded with a scarlet letter (or if his best friend keeps gaslighting him like his father does or if everyone he knows is about two breaths and a small mistake away from going all “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted Lex.” Did Lex cut off that man’s hand? Did Lex try to kill Johnathan to get to Clark? Did Lex try to kill Chloe? Nope. Not even in that one episode where everyone else did try to kill Chloe).

Anyway, back to Bound. So the Kent parents are defending and slut shaming Lex and we have Clark acting like a jealous partner who just learned about their boyfriend’s body count and can’t be an Adult about it. And then we get our patent Loft Moment at the end of the episode where Lex says some stuff about how he kind of wishes he’d been burned to death because it would save the world a lot of grief???? Like he’s clearly in some pain and distress (and really should consider therapy but again…his last therapist drugged him as part of a plan to cover up his father’s first murder) and Clark is just like :| “okay”. Come on man, he’s Superman! His “friend” is Suffering to the point where he’s duct taped to a chair, sees fire coming towards him, and literally thinks “good”????? Let one of my friends ever say that to me and I’m selling a kidney to take us to Aruba. But no, Clark doesn’t do that. And you’re telling me he trusts Lionel Luthor more than his best friend because Lionel got a holy enema and was cured of his terminal liver disease and because Lex (a single billionaire who has to go to boring fundraisers as part of his job and who has literally maybe two friends) *checks notes* had consensual sex with women and gifted them expensive ass diamond earrings. Like sure some of them got their feelings hurt but that’s not a crime, not like…idk murder. You’re telling me this isn’t like…a great motivating factor to idk be a little bit nicer to this sad little bald man with a history of being emotionally, mentally, and physically abused by people he loved and trusted (let’s not even talk about Helen).

Idk if you weren’t already 100% on Lex’s side after Shattered/Asylum, Bound is guaranteed to have you foaming at the mouth with frustration. This episode makes me want to gnaw on dry wall while crawling on the ceiling.