#Milla Appreciation Day

[daresplaining]

Daredevil vol. 2 #48 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, Matt Hollingsworth, and Cory Petit

I've written about this scene before, but I just keep coming back to it. Matt has just been attacked by Typhoid Mary, approximately thirty seconds into his second date with Milla. With the help of Jessica Jones and Luke Cage, who are bodyguarding for him at the time, Matt manages to fight Typhoid off and get Milla out of harm's way. He brings her back to his apartment, where he can treat his injuries and Milla can get some breathing space to recover. As the evening progresses, they end up in bed together.

There are so many stories— heck, so many Daredevil stories— in which a scene like this would turn sexual. And there isn't anything inherently wrong with that, and there are certainly undertones here for anyone looking for them. But instead, Milla and Matt get into something much more somber: a direct examination of what they've just been through, and what Milla wants to do about it. The bed scene begins with Milla tracing her fingers over the scars on Matt's body while he tells her which villain gave him each one. The conversation slides into the exchange above. This is not long after Karen Page's death (a fact that will pop up in more emphatic ways later in the run). Milla has just been on two disastrous dates, the latest of which put her in direct physical danger. Matt is brutally aware of the kind of target he is putting on her by allowing her to associate with him, and now he knows that Milla knows it too. In previous relationships he might not have brought it up; before Karen's death, before Elektra's, before Glori's, he might have said nothing here, eager for love and brashly confident in his ability to be the hero and keep his girlfriend safe. But no matter how much he likes Milla, and no matter how desperately he might want this relationship— because he's into her, because he needs something pleasant and consistent in his messy life, because the guy rebound dates like it's his damn job— he has the wherewithal, and the honesty, and the fear to tell her that she should take all of this danger seriously and leave. He gives her that choice.

It's easy for us as the readers, with the benefit of hindsight, to say that Milla was foolish to ignore the warnings and to pass up this opportunity to get out of the relationship before it turned ugly. But what I think hits me so hard about this scene is her conviction, and her courage to push all of that aside and offer up the hope that this time, things might be better. Milla has not known Matt for long, other than by reputation, but she has already proven that she is willing to go to great lengths to protect him. She isn't easily frightened, and she likes Matt too much to let him go this easily. Look at the framing and pacing of this moment. Matt makes his long speech about the horror Milla has just been through, and how much he likes her and how little she deserves what she will go through by being around him, and how he can't imagine why she would possibly want to stay. It's a speech full of stutters and pauses; Matt is rattled and frightened. And then there are two panels of silence, in which Milla seems to consider him, and he seems to consider her (it's almost framed as if they are looking at each other, and while obviously that's not what they're literally doing, it does create the sense that an examination is taking place). And then Milla just snuggles in closer and gives her answer: "Because I'm quite fond of you." And there's immense power in such a simple, almost casual response. She has witnessed the danger. She has thought about the danger. She wants to hang out with him anyway because she likes him.

The final panel is beautiful, framing Milla's single line of dialogue. A breeze lifts the curtain on the open window. The walls of the bedroom are transparent, letting in a view of the city and the sky, as if they are lying outdoors, perhaps invoking that feeling of the sounds of New York coming into the room and shattering that illusion of spatial separation. In this moment, neither of them can know what is coming, but with her choice to stay, Milla has conjured a world in which they can both imagine that this kind of peace might be possible.

[kutpot]

[thedevotionaltour]

a (criminally quick) sketch of milla in red for today's milla appreciation day!!!

[cyanidespideycup]

Nearly forgot but happy Milla appreciation day!!

[experimentaldata]

Couldn’t let Milla Appreciation Day go by without more headcanons:

-Again, I headcanon her as a double social worker and theater major in undergrad (probably MSW degree also but that’s beside the point), and that she stays involved in community theater as a hobby.

-At some point this leads to a great conversation about bodies as weapons, as art, as…just bodies. Stuff. Things.

-I think in general Milla welcomes Matt’s philosophical and aesthetic side in a way others haven’t before. I think their relationship would be one of intellectual equals to lovers, so to speak. She pulls him out of the immensely practical of all his problems and issues and into the theoretical. It’s a sanctuary and it scratches an itch that has been there since his law school days with Foggy.

-Matt, in turn, welcomes Milla’s company. It’s refreshing. She’s been told all her life, directly or indirectly, that she’s a bit “too much”. Too extroverted, too intense, too curious, etc. He listens to her, really listens, and welcomes her passions, her thoughts on art, music, culture, social justice, even stupid tv shows. She finds her mask slipping. She hasn’t felt that in years.

-I have more thoughts but I’m real tired. Please talk to me about MattMilla anytime lol.

[typhoid-moi]

I'm so mad they fridged Milla in the comics. She's a badass and I think it's really interesting to see Matt interact with a non-powered blind person. I wish they'd used Milla in the Netflix show, so I put her in the fic I wrote about Matt as a young teenager, which is mostly about him figuring out his shit and making friends and hooking up with people (but not Milla.)

Am I selling this? Probably not. But if you're curious, you can read it here:

Peoplewatching

Matt is laughing a little at his own punchline, but Milla doesn't seem to find it funny. “OK, OK, wait,” he explains. “He was blind, too. Born blind. I probably should have mentioned that.”

“What was he doing teaching a blind kid martial arts, one-on-one, unsupervised?”

"I don't know. It was, like, occupational therapy. The nuns set it up."

Milla lowers her voice. “Was this guy a pervert?”

[aurorawritestoescape]

HALLOWEEN NIGHT

Stepdad Joel Miller x f!reader || 500 words

Summary: you’re about to leave home for a Halloween party but your stepdad has other ideas.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, dub con but reader’s into it, legal age gap, perv!Joel, infidelity, unprotected piv (wrap it up), degradation, slutshaming, praise kink, daddy kink, swearing.

A/n: a brief and unexpected (for me too lol) visit from stepdad Joel. He won’t let me go I guess🫠 Happy Halloween, sluts (affectionate)🎃💕 dividers by @saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST || more stepdad Joel

You’re hurrying down the stairs, wearing your Halloween costume - a top, a mini skirt with a tail and cute cat ears. Almost out of the door you hear your stepdad call your name from the living room.

“What?” you ask, peeking into the room.

He looks you up and down, brows furrowed.

“C’mere.”

“What?” You repeat, getting annoyed. “I’m late.”

You know it’ll take longer to argue with him so you do what you’ve been told.

He’s sitting on the couch and when you step up to him he leans forward and plants the elbows on his knees.

Your stepdad’s dark eyes slide over your figure and he takes a sharp breath.

“Lookin’ like a damn slut. As always.”

“It’s Halloween, Joel,” you grumble, rolling your eyes at the man.

“Seems like ya celebrate it every day, sweetheart,” he mumbles as his hand darts to his crotch and he starts palming it. You glare at him but already feel the tingling between your legs. He looks so hot wearing his white undershirt and worn out gray sweatpants.

When Joel’s free hand wraps around the back of your thigh you softly gasp and try to step back but he holds you in place.

“Shhh, little kitty, ‘s jus’ daddy.”

“Joel,” you plea, your mind screaming for him to stop while your body demands for him to continue.

“Gonna have fun tonight?” His hand slides up and up until it snakes under your skirt.

Your heartbeat is booming in your throat. You’re scared that your mom will catch you two but at the same time you’re trembling with arousal.

“Mmm— I — I don’t know,” your voice is shaky. “My friends are waiting in the car.”

“Hmm, what kinda friends?” You feel Joel’s warm fingers graze your ass and softly pinch your cheek. He’s looking up at you, his eyes obsidian.

“Just my girls.”

You’re barely breathing at this point.

The pads of his thick digits push between your cheeks and he massages your pussy folds through your thin panties from behind. You wonder if he feels how wet you’re. For him. For your stepdad. Oh god!

“Hngg — your girls’ll have to wait.”

His hand leaves your pussy and he leans back on the couch.

“Ya gonna ride this dick now. Don’t worry, I’ll fill you up soon. 5 minutes tops,” he’s telling you this as his hand pulls the waistband of his sweatpants down and he frees his hard cock. How the hell is he already hard?!

You open your mouth to protest, to reason with him, to tell him you don’t have time, that your mom, napping upstairs, can wake up any moment but his cock—

his gorgeous, stiff, leaking cock—

calling to you— Your pussy wants it—needs it.

You sigh and pull your skirt up before straddling Joel’s hips.

Your hand wraps around his girthy base and you line up his fat tip with your little hole. You’re soaking wet and your cunt is sinking down on it, easily taking his massive cock, while your eyes are locked. Your stepdad moans, his lids heavy with pleasure, before a smirk tugs at his lips and he mumbles,

“Happy Halloween—my little slut.”

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

MASTERLIST || more stepdad Joel

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40

Stepdad Joel tag @megangovier @she-could-never

[milla-frenchy]

hello, my dearest Milla 🤍

with this ask I challenge you to write a ficlet (or anything bigger if you want) inspired by this screenshot:

may the writing muses be with you,

kissing you on your forehead (if you allow it not then just waving from the distance!)

The constant

0k5 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: Javi wakes up after a nightmare Warnings: 18+ mdni. Angst, piv. No age specified

a/n: thank you for the inspo, Aly 💛(smooching you, if you allow 😌), thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta ing 💕

He woke up restless, sweating. Heart beating so fast and hard in his chest that he thought it was about to explode. And then he remembered his nightmare, his brain torturing him at night, making him recall insidiously the events he had faced earlier. As if the anxiety that had its grip on him all day wasn't enough, it had to come to him at night too. 

He felt useless. His job was useless.

He grabbed an ashtray and his pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, and lit one. Too bad about the nicorette. Migraine hit him and he pressed his palm to his forehead.

“Javi?” you murmured, voice sleepy.

“Shit, I’m sorry hermosa. Did I wake you up?” he asked, still haunted by the images swirling like ghosts in his mind, his gaze lost in the sheets he couldn't even see.

“It’s ok, baby,” you answered. You sat up and wrapped your arms around him, cheek resting on his shoulder. The warmth of your naked body against his, an attempt to get him back to you. 

You knew what was torturing him, you had lost count of his nighttime awakenings, mumbling in his sleep. 

He kept smoking, flicking the ash into the ashtray from time to time.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Hey… don’t do that,” you replied, kissing his shoulder and tightening your grip around him. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

His Adam's apple throbbed and then returned to its place, almost painfully.

“Javier,” you insisted.

The corner of his lip slightly twitched into a smile, as he heard you say his full first name to prove that you meant it. You were the only one who never made him roll his eyes, always knew how to act around him, instinctively.

“Tell me what you need,” you said, encouraging him.

He put out his cigarette and placed the ashtray back on the nightstand. “Need to forget,” he breathed, still unable to look at you, as if he hated himself at those moments. 

“Come here,” you said, hand tight on his bicep as you lay down on the bed and spread your thighs lightly. He positioned himself between them, his eyes finally plunging into yours. You brushed his cheek as he nestled his cock at your entrance. His tortured, haunted eyes fixed on yours, but not quite present yet. 

He slowly pushed in and the warmth of your cunt surrounded him. He frowned, as if he was fighting against the darkest part of himself to come back to you, mentally and physically. 

Your body responded to his length, his touch, and covered him with your wetness. Your fingers played with his hair at the back of his neck as he slid his arms under your shoulders. He moaned softly when he felt your body fully welcome him. 

You didn't take your eyes off him, watching his gaze changing and the anxiety leaving, as he was fucking you slowly, your clit already throbbing against his skin. 

“You’re my constant in this world, hermosa,” he had told you once. 

And each of those moments proved it to you a little more, night after night. You knew he would be okay as long as he would be against you, inside you. And so would you.

Javi p masterlist

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring

[baronessvonglitter]

Wip Wednesday

thank you @myownwholewildworld and @penascigarette for tagging me 🦋

For starters, I have chapter 2 of "Law of Attraction" which will be ready to go Monday, wherein we learn a little more about the early days of reader and Javi's relationship:

From the moment you'd met Javier Pena, who sold drugs to your friends behind the football field bleachers during your senior year of high school, you'd fallen for his bad boy persona. Motorcycle, leather jacket, aviators, cigarette resting between pouty lips, perfectly groomed mustache. He looked like the saxophone solo from "Careless Whisper". And out of all the girls who flirted with him, you were the one he wanted.  He'd whisked you away on his motorcycle, bringing you home so late that your parents forbade you from seeing him. But nothing could stop true love, that's what you had with him. Javier saw you, made you feel seen. He listened to you, big brown eyes studying your every feature, compelling you to kiss him, to do things you ordinarily wouldn't have.

And a spicy part from "The Girlfriend Experience":

Oberyn's lips brush your shoulder, humming appreciatively at your pleasured reaction. "That's it, pretty baby, feel it." His fingers join Ellaria's inside you, stretching you further. You grasp the satin bedsheets in fervent need. Oberyn's gold rings at the base of his agile fingers are cool against your heated flesh.  You fuck yourself against their fingers, kissing him and then her, their free hands grabbing at your breasts, cupping your ass, the three of you moaning and sighing in unison until you come hard, and when you open your eyes they're kissing in front of you.  "Let's give him a little show," you whisper to Ellaria, tucking a strand of her curly jet-black hair behind her ear. "Give him something to pump his cock for.."

And last but not least, a Christmas fic about sleazy mall Santa Joel, who's gonna give you something to suck on, and it ain't a candy cane.. (thanks to @strang3lov3 for being my enabler)

Santa watches as you pass, cheap plastic beard hanging off, revealing gray scruff, his red suit wrinkled and stained. You track his gaze roving over your figure, fully concentrating on the jiggle of your ass under the short skirt you'd picked out in the hopes of getting a quickie. "God damn," you hear him mutter. "Merry Christmas, babygirl." he calls out. You glance back and see him pull the beard down, wiggling his tongue at you in a lewd manner.  Fucking sleaze. But your pussy is wet and throbbing, and this is the first bit of attention you've had all day. You respond by stuffing your tongue in your cheek and making a blow job motion. Santa licks his lips and subtly palms his cock over his fluffy red pants.

It's been a crazy post-Thanksgiving week but I am trying to get caught up with reading and tags and such. I promise I'll get to everything in due time ❤️

NPT for @almostfoxglove, @greenwitchfromthewoods, @itwasntimethatdidit40, @milla-frenchy, @evolnoomym, @inept-the-magnificent and literally anyone else who wants to show their wips 😉

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 (i guess)

okay. let's be honest. i have a huge problem with imposter syndrome, for years. no matter what i do and what the results are - my inner critic has her hands full. but this little beast @gothcsz tagged me in something i've been following for a while now and i finally came out from under the blanket.

i started writing as a kid. it allowed me to escape from reality. sometimes i wrote more, and sometimes i had a few years off (yes, i'm old!). now i'm back here.

am i proud of myself? sometimes. i've gotten used to the fact that what i like doesn't always please my readers. but i try to develop, learn new things and i love it when we meet somewhere halfway. i wish i could be more open to you, but it's fucking hard.

however i appreciate every second you spent reading what i write, thank you for every comment, every remark, every feedback. it's like a sign from the universe that there is life on the other side and i'm not crazy. ♥️

my favourite fanfics/oneshots from this year:

✤ General Marcus Acacius

nymph (series) if i am happy with something it is this. Marcus Acacius and Nymph. i like writing these two characters. they remind me of greek and roman myths that i read as a child. but despite everything there are times when it is hard for me to write it.

the favourite of gods (oneshot) I have no explanation for this. I was carried away by the moment when I wrote it. Am I the only one who is into the mythological, fairy-tale, mystical part of antiquity? Yes, I am bad at it. But I wrote it. And I like it.

✤ Joel Miller

the anniversary (oneshot) I never thought that something I experienced (I mean forgetting our anniversary, not sex with Joel) would be read with interest. I think I like it, although I sometimes get sad when I see a new reaction to this story in my notifications

broken trust [part 1][part 2][part 3][part 4][part 5] [epilogue] (series) this is something long that i didn't think i'd finish writing. i'm proud of it. i really like when female characters are independent and strong. that's how i wanted her to be seen. i know it's not perfect, but there are a few moments in there that i really like and i've been working on them for a long time.

short stories from life. (short stories) here I wanted to try something new, something between a series and oneshots. because sometimes there's an idea in your head, but you don't want to create a whole long story for it. did I succeed? it's an experiment. I'm testing it on myself. you're safe.

✤ Javi Gutierrez

inhale, exhale (oneshot) I know that many people who read this identified with it. Me too. I wrote with the thought - I wish there was someone next to me in moments like these, who would help me get through this. do I have tears in my eyes right now? yes, and I'm not ashamed of it. situations like this suck. (tw: panic attacks)

✤Javier Peña

you in my eyes [1][2] I started this recently, but I have great pleasure writing it. why did I put it here? because I like it. i can write this story for myself, that's okay too. It's something new for me, something that allows me to think differently.

and...

💔 a few ways to break your heart 💔 [masterlist]

❤️‍ broken hearts seek redemption ❤️‍ [ masterlist]

this really got to me. really. there are characters for whom angst is easy to write, and there are those for whom your heart breaks when you have to write something bad. I approach what I write quite personally, I know I shouldn't. breaking a heart was relatively easy, mending it - no. I survived it, and so did they.

I read these writers

People I follow, love, adore, and wish I could support every day because they're amazing, beautiful, talented, authentic, empathetic, open-minded, creative, and so much more. ♥️

@gothcsz @sanarsi @stylesispunk @mothandpidgeon @morallyinept @punkshort @toomanystoriessolittletime @604to647 @oonajaeadira @iamasaddie @auteurdelabre @milla-frenchy @alwayslurkinginthebackground @javierpena-inatacvest @notjustjavierpena @theetherealbloom @baronessvonglitter @insomniamamma @hiddenzev @joelmillerisapunk

If any of you would like to praise yourself, please do so.

PS. did I do it right?

[alltheirdamn]

WIP WEDNESDAY

thank you for the tag @mermaidgirl30 xoxo 💛

okay, chapter 1 of diamond dolls will be dropping by the end of the week!! (finally, i know lol) so here’s a lil snippet…

**

“Come back at nine. You’ll be on stage tonight,” he offered, rising from his seat.

“What?” You balked. “You just told me you didn’t want to see me audition.”

Joel shoved his hands in the front pockets of his dress pants, his shoulders lifting slightly with a shrug. You waited for the other shoe to drop, for him to laugh in your face and shove you out the door. But there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his tone nor a look of deception in his soft eyes.

“I never ask my girls to audition,” he explained.

“Why? What if I’m bullshitting you?”

“I’ll find out if you are, but I got a feelin’ you won’t let me down.”

**

and….. because i’m so addicted to cowboy!joel…. there might be another one shot in the works….

**

“I really don’t appreciate your fuckin’ tone right now, Joel. Y’ain’t gotta take out your anger on me.”

Joel ran a hand over the scruff on his jaw, his eyes saturated like a pool of oil slick.

“Trust me darlin’, all I wanna do right now is take my anger out on you.”

“Really?” You challenged, crossing your arms over your chest. “Y’have one bad day and think that gives you an excuse to use me to make yourself feel better?”

“Keep pushin’ me. Ain’t gonna end well for you,” he warned.

You stepped forward, electricity crackling between your bodies. Joel’s anger surged through the air in the room, thickening the air as you sucked in a frustrated breath.

“I ain’t scared of you.”

Working at his belt buckle, Joel snapped the leather strap until it sprung free from the belt loops on his jeans. Gripping it between both hands, he prowled toward you, the threat looming behind every step.

“I know y’ain’t, darlin’, but you’re about to be.”

**

all my love always xoxo- V

NP TAGS!! @mountainsandmayhem @lotusbxtch @endlessthxxghts @evolnoomym @fruityreads @guiltyasdave @iamasaddie @katiexpunk @magpiepills @milla-frenchy @tonysopranosrobe @pedropeach @yxtkiwiyxt @strang3lov3

[daresplaining]

Milla Donovan by Marko Djurdjevic

[kutpot]

[sheltershock]

I was thinking today about how Sasha and Milla both got burned for using telepathy/mind reading on another person without their consent and I liked that it played out that way. I think realistically if you had the ability to read minds you’d also be traumatized by the thoughts/fantasies of others. Plus it adds more subtext in PN2 when Sasha scolds Raz for trying to bend someone else’s will to his own. Because that’s what he did when he was younger. Major props. Psychonauts is so good at subtext that’s why I love the writing, and it’s ability to be whimsical and silly but also realistic and gritty at times.

But then I thought about their constant psychic link. It’s cute, nice little relationship thing between them. However, when taking the mind reading trauma into account… that psychic link probably wasn’t easy. At least in the beginning.

I mean the last time they did any level of telepathy/mind reading it went so awfully that both of their lives changed trajectory in an instant. So the idea of doing that again in general must be terrifying. I’m sure they both decided to form that link, but even having known each other there could be that aching fear in the background that the other person might accidentally hurt them.

Maybe the link was a form of therapy for the both of them. And they might have not even shared/said anything over it for a while. It could have been strictly professional at first, reminders for meetings, information relay, communication in the field, etc. They’re both still a little tense though that they’ll accidentally share something unrelated.

Milla was probably the first of them to share something over the link that was non-work related. Something mundane, like appreciation of the view from her office, or a compliment of the music she can hear through the wall, or what’s being served in the cafeteria that day. Something simple. And he’d answer back and they’d continue with their day. The first thing Sasha would have sent over was probably observations, non emotional observations. Construction being done, new colors being painted, or saying it’s colder outside and to bring a jacket if she’s going to the Quarry that day. They get a little more confident after a while. They share things they know the other would like. They start having longer conversations. There’s more emotion. People can observe them smiling at seemingly nothing more frequently.

Once a little bit more comfortable they’re talking about what they did that weekend, Milla struggles to describe exactly what her experience was like the other night. She offers to share the memory directly. She can feel Sasha tense up on the other side. The conversation ends. The next day, he offers her to send it over. He’s spent the entire time preparing for it, telling himself over and over that it’s her, that she’s offering, that it’s probably fine. And it is. Milla’s delighted and they move on, though she checks to make sure he’s not hiding a bad reaction from her. They’re both fine.

But that’s one of the things she’s very aware of. Long stretches of time where Sasha won’t say or respond to anything at all. She can hear swears through the wall during this brief times, and he hardly ever leaves his lab either. She understands why, everyone has bad days. But sometimes he does reach to her, because she always offers an ear to everyone. But she always makes it a verbal conversation. She just can’t seem to push past the irrational thoughts that the source of his frustration might be her. That she’s not a good enough agent, a good enough friend, a good enough partner. And she knows that he’d never say any of those things… to her face. But if she would read his mind she’d know for sure.

And one day he asks again if he can talk to her, and hesitantly she agrees. Over the link. And she spends the entire time waiting, waiting for that dreaded Freudian slip. But it doesn’t happen. And he finishes his thought, and they both continue on, except Milla finds herself in tears in her office. And she finds herself reaching back over to talk some more.

Over time and each individual thought, memory and experience, they’re both confident and far less afraid as they used to be. Their fears aren’t completely gone of course, but it’s them, specifically. And they know where the other’s sore spot is, and are more than willing to provide a warning for anything triggering. They find themselves using their telepathy abilities with others from the newfound confidence. Projecting their own thoughts to another, but only one way though. Only in the other do they feel truly safe enough for a two-way mental link. And was preciously an isolating, vivid and painful experience is now one where they are never truly alone, and it’s peaceful and it’s comforting.

Just a thought.

[doodle17]

Everyone shut up its Clem and Crystal appreciation hours

RANTING about them in the au because heheheheheouhohoh

Clem and Crystal's relationship has definitely gotten stronger as the years have progressed. Through thick and thin they've been with eachother, and they're practically inseparable at this point.

Crystal spends most of her time specializing in levitation! When she first showed up she interned with Milla. As she went through her internship, it was kind of obvious how much her mental health was affecting her psychic abilities. Her levitation suffered the most, since we know that in order to levitate, you need help from your positive thoughts! But, we all know Crystal's thoughts tend to be... Not-so-positive. Of course, Milla was concerned when she caught notice of how her intern literally could not summon a levitation bubble some days, let alone stay in the air for long enough.

Milla decided it'd be best if Crystal was held back for a little bit, and that was when Crystal decided to try and take better care of herself and expand her Psychic abilities. She was able to develop her levitation ability to whole new level! She's able to glide around on little levitation bubbles below her feet, similar to roller blading. It's made her able to reach unimaginable speeds and jump incredibly high. In terms of mental health, she's made a great improvement! She still has small issues with anxiety, which makes gliding a little more difficult, so she wears some special earrings Franke made with psi-tanium beads to help keep her mind focused.

When Clem first showed up things were a little more rough. He ended up with Hollis as a mentor, and he suddenly seemed to develop some sort of strive to empress. He was always willing to help others, lending a hand in homework, picking up people's assignments when they couldn't, always there to cheer people on! Unfortunately while he did all of this he never really got the chance to take care of himself. And despite his happy go lucky personality on the outside, this kid had a lot of pent up rage and other unsavory emotions held inside.

In fact, he became quite the impressive marksman as he got older! He has a bunch psi-blast variants that he's developed.

He's still a little bit of people pleaser much to his dismay, smiling through gritted teeth and clenching his fists so hard the knuckles pop. Just be glad you aren't a squirrel passing by when he decides to practice his new marksmanship methods.

Crystal and Clem are incredibly close. Even through their toughest days, they know how to make the other smile. Clem knows how to make Crystal smile when she cries, and she knows how to make him laugh when he wants to blow something up.

They are still loud and obnoxious at times, although they seem to be somewhat aware of it now. So? They do it on purpose :) they're goober like that!

[wicked-secretsanta]

Merry Christmas @gliyerabaa!

Special message: Happy holidays! Thank you for being such an awesome person in the fandom <3

Read it on Ao3

“You have to help, Glinda, I keep leaving late because of her. It’s so unfair.”

“Late?” Glinda asked. “You close at eight, don’t you?”

“Yes, technically, but I can close earlier if no one’s here and no one is here after six except for her. Not to mention she always stays until after eight, it’s ridiculous. Every day? I mean, every day? How many things are there to read in this place? Surely she must’ve gone through everything already and—”

“Peace, Milla.” Glinda raised a hand as if that could fend off the rambling. “Elphie is just—”

“Oh, Elphie,” Milla scoffed. “I'm sorry, I forgot you two are joined at the hip nowadays. I don't care what Elphie is doing here, I just want to go home. It's the weekend!” 

Glinda’s face burned as Milla dragged her through the library. “Now wait a moment. What makes you think I could possibly—?” 

“Figure it out. And get her out of here!” Milla finished her sentence by pointedly shoving Glinda towards the stairs to the second floor. 

“Gee.” Glinda huffed as Milla walked away, still mumbling angrily to herself. Something about the library's end shift not being as easy as she thought it would be. “Talk about an attitude.” 

Glinda threw her hair over her shoulder and climbed the stairs purposely taking her time. Not that she wasn't sympathetic to Milla's plight, but she didn't appreciate being made fun of. She and Elphaba were definitely not joined at the hip. The nerve. 

The second floor had many tables and benches near the balustrade, and in one of those tables was Elphaba in her natural habitat, hunched over, notebook in front of her, stack of books by her elbow, splayed books in front of her, quill in a hand that was looking so cramped Glinda winced in sympathy. 

Elphaba didn't notice her arrival, too engrossed in her work. 

“Elphie,” Glinda called softly, not wanting to startle her, feeling as if she was approaching an idle animal. 

Elphaba looked up, startled, blinking beady eyes and then squinting, then removing her spectacles to rub her eyes with ink-stained fingers. Her braid was all messy, strands framing her face as if she'd raked her fingers though it repeatedly, and she had an overall frazzled look about her. 

Glinda swooned, but just a little. 

“What?” Elphaba’s voice was a little hoarse from disuse. “What are you doing here?”

Glinda cleared her throat. “It's late, Elphie, I've been sent to bring you back to the dorms.” 

“Oh.” Elphaba leaned back in her chair. “Late? But it's only—” Then she looked out into the window at the back of the room, and was greeted with the darkening colors of sunset crossing over the sky. “Oh. I lost track of time.”

A smile played on the edges of Glinda’s mouth. “As you often do. C’mon, get your things, Milla is going to kill me if I don’t get you out of here in the next minute.”

“But I’m not done.”

“You can come back tomorrow,” she said. “And God knows you will come back tomorrow. Aren’t you tired?”

Though the question was redundant, she knew at this point that Elphaba was always at least a little bit tired. She had been ever since Dr. Dillamond was murdered, just like Glinda had been permanently tired since Ama Clutch fell ill.

“I have something to show you.” Elphaba came to her feet suddenly, not even bothering to answer the question, but looking more alert than she had just a second ago. 

“Didn’t you hear me?” asked Glinda. “We have to leave. Milla is—”

“Milla won’t care for a minute or two.”

“Milla is about to have a fainting bout, Elphie.”

“She can have one after a minute or two.” She closed her notebook and stacked her books and put a bunch in her satchel, then threw it over one shoulder and grabbed her little lamp, the only light source other than the natural, dying sunlight breaking through. “Come on, it won’t take long.”

“What?” Glinda blinked, but followed Elphaba deeper into the rows of bookshelves. She had to follow her, Milla be damned, because Elphaba never included Glinda in her comings and goings in this place, the chance was too good to pass up. And to be fair Elphaba was taking her things with her, so she clearly intended to leave once she was done showing Glinda whatever she wanted to show her. “What is it?”

“Have you ever been here?” 

“To the library? Sometimes. Why?” 

“Just follow.”

“I am following.”

“There’s a lot of books that aren’t accessible to us on account of our unfortunate circumstance of being girls.”

“Unfortunate?” Glinda muttered, but Elphaba went on.

“I’ve been bribing Boq and Crope and Tibbett to find me real material from the Briscoe library. Well, I used to bribe them, but now they just do it.”

They trudged through a great number of bookshelves, moving through the rows and hallways as if going deeper and deeper into a maze. “I suppose that’s what happens when you become friends with people.”

The soft glow of the lamp caught Elphaba’s adorable grimace. “I suppose. The point is that they’re good at what they do, but I cannot walk around with the books on my person. Who knows what would happen if Morrible were to corner me, and I know she’s had her eye on me, that disgusting little tiktok creature follows me around when she thinks I’m clueless.”

It wasn’t the first time Glinda heard about this. It had started happening after the murder, and in her grief-stricken state Glinda had attributed it to Elphaba’s paranoid and conspiracy-loving mind, but she didn’t think it was so farfetched now. She had caught glimpses of Morrible’s mechanical servant in places where it shouldn’t be.

“You keep them here?” Glinda asked. “The books, I mean.”

Finally they stopped in front of a random shelf at the back, not any different than any of the others, spines and spines of weathered leather forming a wall that extended from floor to ceiling.

“Yes,” said Elphaba, and reached for one of the books. “No one ever searches here because what could the good girls of Crage Hall possibly be hiding in their library of all places?”

Glinda smiled. She wouldn’t have encouraged breaking the rules in the past, but she was beginning to see some rules only existed for the wrong reasons. “Right. Good society girls usually hide their prohibited things in their drawers or under their mattresses.”

“You would know about that,” Elphaba teased, then handed the book over. “I thought you may be interested in this one.”

Glinda squinted at it in the low light, for the sun was almost under the horizon now, and Elphaba’s lamp was quite small. From what she could gather it was some dusty, ancient spellbook. 

She closed it after realizing what it was. 

“What?” Elphaba asked. “Isn’t sorcery your preferred area of study?”

“I— well, it used to be. But it’s complicated now.”

“Because of Ama Clutch?”

“Because of Ama Clutch.” Glinda put the book back where it belonged—well, not where it belonged, but rather where Elphaba had smuggled it into. “What if it was my fault?”

“That’s—”

Then they heard the screech of a heavy door, and the unmistakable click of an even heavier lock.

“Oh, she didn’t,” Glinda whispered.

And finally, as if on a timer as tight as Milla’s schedule, the sun finished setting, and the two of them were thrown more or less into darkness in the middle of the most remote corner of the library, perhaps the most remote corner in all of Crage Hall, with only Elphaba’s little lamp to go by.

They looked at each other briefly, Elphaba scowling, Glinda rolling her eyes, and made their way out and into the main floor.

“Did your friend just lock us here on purpose?”

“Friend is a very strong word right about now,” said Glinda. 

The library’s main door was indeed locked, no amount of pushing or pulling would make it budge. 

Elphaba smashed her shoulder against it, fruitlessly, then banged on it with her open palm. “Milla! Are you still out there? Open the door right this instant, if this is a prank—”

“It’s not a prank, unfortunately.” Glinda grabbed Elphaba’s hand before she could mangle it. “She probably saw your things were gone and assumed we left without her noticing.”

Elphaba turned to her, bewildered. “And she would close up the place without being certain?”

“Oh, sure. I don’t think you understand how upset she was about having to stay here this late.”

“It’s not even closing time!”

“You don’t have to fight me about it,” Glinda grumbled. 

“Come.” Elphaba grabbed Glinda’s wrist and tugged her away from the door, still holding her lamp in her other hand. Was it gas or oil, Glinda wondered, and just how much light did they still have left?

They stopped in front of one of the windows, and Elphaba handed over the life-saving lamp. “Hold this for a second. I’ll get this open and we’ll just jump through—” Elphaba trailed off.

Glinda leaned closer to the window to see what she was seeing, just as water began pattering against it, and just as the sky lit up briefly with a flash, followed by the low rumble of thunder.

“Great,” said Elphaba. 

“God forbid things are ever easy for us.” 

“You could still leave if you don’t mind getting your clothes wet,” Elphaba said. “You won’t melt like a sugarcube the way I would. Though I suppose if I step outside my ‘melting’ would be quite more graphic and bloody than that of a sugarcube.”

Glinda grimaced. “Must you be so morbid? And I’m not leaving, Elphie. I would hate for you to be all alone in here with the storm going on, who knows when it’s going to let up.”

“You don’t have to worry, I’ll be perfectly safe. It’s not like I never spend time alone in here anyway.”

Elphaba was never going to let this go as long as she saw it as Glinda doing something for her, she had that funny way about herself where accepting someone else’s assistance was a ludicrous concept.

“I don’t want to get my hair wet,” Glinda said. “I spent a lot of time curling it this morning.”

And that was that.

“Fine, then.” Elphaba sighed. “Let’s try to put on the fireplace, it can get chilly in here, and something tells me we’ll need the light to go by.”

“You’ve been here all day,” said Glinda as they made their way back through the main floor, led by Elphaba's singular lamp. “Did you eat?”

The fact Elphaba had to think about it was hilarious, and also a little sad. “No, but it’s fine. I’m not hungry.” She was betrayed by the sudden and spectacularly well-timed growling of her stomach, because that was just the way things went.

“Mhm.”

Elphaba flushed a darker green, and cleared her throat. “It’s because you made me think about it. I wasn’t hungry a moment ago.”

“That’s entirely sensible.” Glinda nodded seriously, though of course she didn’t think it was sensible at all. “You handle the fire and I’ll make sure you don’t starve.”

“There’s nothing to eat here, food and drinks aren’t allowed.”

“Oh, Elphie,” Glinda said dramatically. “You wound me by being so distrustful! Don’t you worry about that, I’ll find you something to eat.”

Elphaba rolled her eyes. “Fine, go hunting and gathering inside the library, that’s a swell idea. Just know that I don’t eat books, contrary to popular belief.”

“I’ll be back in a clock tick.” Glinda smiled at her, and they went in their opposite directions, Elphaba towards the fireplace and Glinda towards the front desk.

Milla’s front desk, to be exact.

She got to keep the lamp so she didn’t have to stumble her way through, but she would know where to go and where to search even in total darkness. 

At this point Glinda had spent enough time with Milla—more time than either of them had ever spent with Shenshen and Pfannee—to know the girl’s habits pretty well. If she had to stay four hours a day in this place then there was no way she would do it without anything to eat in the meantime.

Glinda had only to rummage behind the front desk for a few seconds before she found what she was looking for. A half-eaten bag of almonds and peanuts, a little box of breadsticks, and nougat and other non-perishable little munchables. Perfect.

Glinda grabbed all of it, then frowned, then her eyes widened and she chuckled.

“Ah, Milla. You scoundrel.”

Behind the little pile of snacks and hidden under some stacks of papers was an innocuous dark glass bottle. Glinda pulled it out, and took out the loose cork and sniffed it, then wrinkled her nose.

Well, she supposed that was one way of coping with always having to leave on time—which for Milla meant leaving late.

She gathered all of Milla’s pastimes in her arms and made her way back to find Elphaba crouching by the fireplace with a stick, fumbling around in the darkness as she tried to get a flame going.

“C’mon, you useless—”

Glinda dropped her spoils on the nearby couch and set the lamp down on a low table, then snapped her fingers and the fireplace properly roared to life.

Elphaba stumbled back, startled, then looked over her shoulder with her typical scowl. “A little warning could’ve been nice.”

“Where’s the fun in that? I rarely get to surprise you with anything, let me have this.” 

“I thought you weren’t that interested in magic anymore.”

“I said to let me have this.” 

Elphaba dusted off her hands then came to her feet, overseeing everything Glinda brought. She glanced at her lamp, but it was a little redundant now.  “Where’d you find all of this?”

“Milla’s not-so-secret stash.” Glinda winked. “It's not exactly a proper meal but at least you won't die of starvation.” 

“I think I could've managed a few hours without—” 

Glinda tossed her the brown bag of peanuts and almonds, and it comically hit Elphaba square in the forehead. 

“Thanks for that,” Elphaba deadpanned, and the bag fell right into her waiting hand. 

“So you can say thank you! Very good, Elphie.” 

“I—” Elphaba blinked. “I have been terribly ungrateful, you're right. I'm sorry. Thank you for the food, and for staying with me while I’m trapped here.” 

Glinda's eyes lit up. Goodness, she kept swooning just because Elphaba was being a decent person. 

“You're welcome, Elphie.” This little infatuation was proving difficult to manage and also quite a bit embarrassing. “This is tonight's grand prize, however.” 

And she lifted up the liquor bottle and gave it a little shake. 

“What in the—” Elphaba snorted. “Where’d you find that?” 

“Also Milla’s not-so-secret stash.” 

“No wonder that ninny can never help me find a single book. I know the school pays only in extra credits but honestly, a little effort would go a long way, and—are you even listening?”

“Sorry.” Glinda finished taking a swig. It was kind of awfully strong. Was it moonshine? Ugh. She never would've expected that from Milla of all people. “Did you want some?” 

“Give me that. And I’d offer to sit but I’m kind of sick of staying in one place. Do you want to walk around? I can show you the library. I don't think my lamp has a long lifespan left but there's enough windows and moonlight to go by.” 

Glinda wouldn’t say no if her life depended on it. “Fine by me.”

“But—” Elphaba raised a palm between them. “Are you sure?”

“Sure of what?”

“Sure of staying here, I mean,” Elphaba said. “You don’t have to, it’s really not that long of a walk to the dormitories, you can deal with a little bit of water—”

“Elphie,” Glinda cut in slowly, more like a warning than anything else. “I'm staying until it's safe for you to go outside, and that's that. You hear me? That's that.” 

“But—” 

“That's that. I don't want to hear another word about it.” 

Elphaba blinked for a moment, just staring at Glinda, then nodded as if unsure of what she'd just heard. 

If nothing else it truly felt like progress. Glinda had been ready to argue for a while longer. 

She carried the lamp so Elphaba could munch on the ‘borrowed’ food as they walked, but they did share the bottle of moonshine between them, passing it back and forth as they went along. 

Yet Elphaba never grimaced at the strong aftertaste and she walked in a straight line, her eyes sharp even after Glinda started refusing any more of it because she was getting lightheaded.

“You can really hold your liquor, Elphie.” 

She shrugged. “I suppose. Can you?” 

“It depends on the liquor. Just never give me wine—unless you want to have a really good time.” 

“I don't know who'd say no to a really good time.” Elphaba smirked at her, and Glinda blushed something fierce.

Was Elphaba even aware of what she was doing? Why would she answer with something borderline flirtatious to Glinda’s innocent and playful comment? Or, perhaps, just perhaps, Elphaba’s intention wasn’t to flirt and she was just being her normal self. Ugh. 

Glinda hated this, she was definitely not an overthinker. Why would she be? She never had problems with the objects of her affections before, but Elphaba was—different than the rest. None of the other boys Glinda held interest towards really even came close.

Glinda was now recognizing her interest for those boys was more intellectual curiosity than actually driven by any sort of emotion. It was logical to find certain boys handsome, right? 

Well, no. 

Elphaba defied logic as much as she tended to defy all expectations. Glinda liked her, really liked her. Liked her in a way she understood intellectually was the way she was supposed to like boys, but nothing about her feelings for Elphaba were intellectual, they were just warm and humane, driven by pure sentiment instead of logic. 

She sighed, walking beside Elphie these halls that smelled of paper and ink and dust and noticing that Elphaba moved through them with an ease that Glinda had never seen. 

She hoped the storm would never let up, or that at least it would last the whole night. 

“You look right at home,” Glinda said. “More than you ever look at home in our dorm.” 

“I never spent too much time in rooms, not even as a child.” Elphaba talked without looking at her, her eyes instead scanning the bookcases. It was eerily quiet this deep into the library, even the sound of the rain was a distant thing. “Libraries, though—well, when I could. The one in Colwen Grounds is quite extensive, yet it's private, it belongs only to my family. All that knowledge—” Her fingers trailed over some dusty spines. “And it's not shared. And even if it was, there's simply not enough time to know it all. I used to spend hours upon hours upon days trying, reading whatever I could get my hands on and trying to understand what I was reading so I could— I’ve just rambled like a madwoman, sorry.”

“If anything, you don't talk to me enough, Elphie.” Milla may call them ‘joined at the hip’, yet Glinda would spend even more time with Elphaba if that was possible. 

Elphaba looked at her puzzled, her head tilted to the side as if Glinda had said something entirely incomprehensible. 

 “What are some of your favorite things about this place?” Glinda asked because she was growing flustered yet again. “Show me.”

She realized that for Elphaba this wasn’t only a place to come in and do research or do her homework. She liked being here, and whether that was because it reminded her of her childhood or because of something else Glinda would like to know. 

Elphaba smiled at her, the silvery moonlight giving her a sort of sheen that was quite entrancing, even if she was otherwise so disheveled. Yet another thing Glinda wouldn’t mind doing for her, fix up her braid and wipe the ink stains away from her fingers.

How odd it was to want to take care of someone in such gentle ways, usually Glinda was the one craving to be pampered, but Elphaba’s unkempt edges—which in the past had seemed ghastly to her—were inviting.

“Let’s go, then,” Elphaba said. “There’s one thing you may want to see.”

“Other than illicit books?”

“Other than that.”

At the back of the main floor, in a space cleared of books, was something that looked very out of place for a library of all things.

It was a piano.

Glinda frowned. “I thought this place was supposed to be quiet at all times.”

“It’s a showpiece more than something you’re meant to play,” Elphaba said. “Let me show you.”

Glinda didn’t understand how such a common piano could be a showpiece. It wasn’t much different from all the other pianos she had ever seen in parties or receptions, or in her own lessons from when she was a little girl. It was sleek and black and it stood on four legs, more shiny than she expected from a place otherwise so dusty but utterly ordinary.

“It doesn’t look like much,” Glinda said.

“Watch.” 

They sat together on the piano bench, which was small, so it meant that they were quite together and the closeness was not helping Glinda’s growing case of being disastrously in love with her best friend.

She cleared her throat. “Do you know how to play?”

“Well, no,” Elphaba said, lifting the covers off the keys. “But that's not entirely necessary for what I want to actually show—” 

So Glinda was the one that played. She wasn’t an expert by any means but she remembered her lessons well enough she could conjure up an old child’s lullaby, a slow rhythm. It was a little clumsy, but overall not too terrible.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Elphaba said softly as if not to cut through the music with her voice.

“There are a lot of things I can do that you don’t know about.”

There was that sly smile again. “Like what?”

“Like—” Glinda faltered a little, then she just stopped altogether to turn her head and look at Elphaba directly. 

It really was a small bench, made even smaller by the fact Glinda had to sit somewhat in the middle to have access to the pedals below. Her thigh pressed against Elphaba’s almost entirely, and their arms brushed together as Glinda took her hands away from the keys.

Glinda licked her lips. “Um. What did you want to show me this piano for, anyway?”

It took Elphaba a second to process that she was being spoken to. “Right. Here.” And she leaned around the side of the piano and did something, and then there was a click and a soft buzz. 

And then the keys and the pedals started moving on their own, repeating to perfection Glinda's slightly imperfect rendition. 

“What in Oz?” she murmured, her eyes wide. “It's—a tiktok thing?” 

“Yeah,” Elphaba said, satisfied. “Like Morrible's little servant, only much less unsettling. It helps that you’re good at it, if I’d been the one playing we’d be stuck with a much more disastrous loop.”

Glinda recalled Elphaba saying the library could get chilly without the fireplace, but she couldn't imagine how that would be true, she had never felt warmer in her life, the heat expanded from her cheeks and intensified where Elphaba was pressed against her. Elphaba’s body felt like an open flame next to her. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m good,” Glinda said in a rush. “Most girls I know can play a song or two.”

“My father tried to put me in lessons, too.” Thankfully, Elphaba wasn’t looking at her. “He wanted me to play hymns on the organ for the church at home.”

“And what happened?”

“I think I bit a priest or a maunt, I don’t really remember.” She grinned. “But there was blood and after that no one was so willing to teach me.”

Glinda grinned right back. “Incorregible.”

The music kept playing, a constant loop of the same song over and over, and Elphaba reached for the bottle she had set on the floor again, then frowned at it.

“What’s the matter?” asked Glinda.

“Look at this.”

Elphaba tilted the bottle a bit to catch the light of the lamp, and it glinted off the inscription at the front.

“Today you’ve shown me all sorts of things,” Glinda said with a smile. “What is it?”

“This thing is a gift from Boq.”

“From Boq?” Glinda took a closer peek at the engraved letters. 

“He’s taking some arts and crafts electives, look.” 

Glinda arched her eyebrows, but indeed the markings at the front of the bottle she thought were nothing but branding were actually a message in a nice script. Could we share the next one? Love, Boq. 

“Oh God.” She laughed. “That’s extremely corny for someone like Milla, I can imagine the face she made. But of course she would never say no to some moonshine.”

“I didn’t know they had a thing for each other.”

“A thing,” Glinda repeated, amused. “Boq’s been hovering over her shoulder for a while now.”

“I thought he was sweet for you instead.”

“He hasn’t been in months, Elphie.” 

“Huh. The more you know.”

“You’re absolutely clueless.”

“I’m not ashamed, sometimes it’s good to be clueless about certain things.” Elphaba shrugged. “You’re not upset that your admirer found someone else to admire?”

“Are you kidding me? Not whatsoever. Good riddance to him. I never should've let him kiss me but in retrospect perhaps that was the beginning of the end.”

“You let him kiss you?” Elphaba put the bottle back on the floor, frowning at Glinda now. “Why?”

“A regrettable and terrible moment of weakness. Besides, I was upset, and that proved a distraction—albeit a boring one. Kissing boys has got to be the most boring thing in the world.” 

“But why were you upset?” 

Ah, Glinda definitely did not want to get into the complicated maelstrom of complications that’d been the day at the Caprice and Pines, when Shenshen and Pfannee thought it would be hilarious to impersonate Glinda in a letter and invite Elphaba there for a lark.

A lark at Glinda’s expense, mind you. She still couldn’t believe her feelings for Elphaba were so evident that even those girls could tell. It’d been so mortifying to be so known.

“Uhh—” She couldn’t tell any of that to Elphaba, however. “Never mind all that!” She leaned against Elphaba in the small bench, defaulting to just keeping her close in hopes of distracting her.

“Regrettable, you said?” Elphaba chuckled, but she wrapped an arm around Glinda’s shoulder as the slow music kept playing. 

The gesture brought them even closer together, and Glinda fully rested her head on Elphaba’s shoulder, her entire body relaxing in the low light, with the slow music, with the nearness.

She longed to be even nearer.

“How come I never knew?” Elphaba asked.

Glinda really didn’t want to keep discussing that. “Have you ever kissed anyone, Elphie?” Way to divert the conversation.

Elphaba snorted. “Don't be absurd.”

“Why is that absurd?” 

“Not all of us can have the entire university pining for us.” 

“Wait a moment.” Glinda’s brow furrowed. “Are you talking about me? I don’t have the entire university pining for me.”

“Of course not, just Boq, and Fiyero, and that idiot Avaric and—” She shut her mouth abruptly, and Glinda tilted her head back just to catch a glimpse of the way Elphaba’s cheeks darkened.

Glinda’s heart fluttered briefly. Should she dare hope?

“Who’d want to kiss me, anyway?” Elphaba muttered darkly. She was as adept at diverting the conversation as Glinda was, clearly.

The lamp on top of the piano flickered once, twice, and then went out completely like a whisper, total darkness enveloping them save from the dim moonlight barely illuminating the edges of Elphaba’s face.

Between their closeness and the darkness, Glinda decided to let herself hope.

She licked her lips. Her cheek was pressed against Elphaba’s shoulder, she lifted a hand to carefully brush a strand of hair away from her neck, briefly brushing against Elphaba’s pulse point. It was quick like a hummingbird’s wings. 

“I can think of someone who’d want to kiss you.” 

“Oh, really?” Elphaba’s scowl got even deeper with disbelief, her voice thick with sarcasm. “Well, I'd love to meet that person.” 

“You actually know her well enough. She is, quite literally and figuratively, all over you.” 

“She—” Elphaba's brain visibly malfunctioned, looking down at the way Glinda was basically draped over her in this cramped little piano bench. “She—you—” Her eyes widened a bit, and Glinda gave her a moment. “Are you serious?” 

“As the grave.” 

“But—” 

“Actually, never mind,” Glinda said suddenly, pushing away as her nerve abandoned her just as quick as it had arrived. “I just realized how odd that was, so let me just—” 

“No! No, wait, wait.” Elphaba’s hands went on to Glinda’s shoulders so she could keep her there. “You’re serious?”

It was good that the place was otherwise so dark, because Glinda did not want Elphaba to see how red her face was. “Yes! And please don’t ask that again. Yes, I’m serious. I guess the question now is do you want to kiss me?”

“Glinda, everyone wants to kiss you.”

“But you’re not like everyone, Elphie.”

It was quiet for a moment, one of Elphaba’s hands on her shoulder slowly made its way towards Glinda’s hair, and she twirled a stray curl around her finger. Glinda had never been so unmoving in her life, she was nearly holding her breath.

“I think that when it comes to you,” Elphaba’s voice was a whisper, a soft rush of air. “I am more like everyone else than you think.”

The world came to a stop for a moment, and when it resumed motion it did so gently, like so: Glinda's lips parted just a little, mostly in surprise, and Elphaba's eyes flickered down. 

And then Glinda leaned towards her, not even conscious of the frantic beating of her heart, not anymore. And then, and then, and then, she kissed her. 

Other than the clumsy and slow song still playing, the place was silent and still, and kissing Elphaba was nothing like Glinda had expected—and she hadn’t had expectations at all, truly. It was never a thought Glinda liked to indulge in because she thought it would never happen.

Except that now it was happening, and it was better than anything she could’ve tried to picture anyway. Elphie tasted like that awful moonshine but Glinda didn't really care, nor did she care about the spectacles barely digging into her nose. There was no room to care about anything like that. 

Elphaba held onto her shoulders rather gently, a touch that was just barely there, just like the touch of their lips, a soft press that was feather light and careful, for Glinda was still aware of the fact it was Elphaba's first ever kiss—she didn't want to be overwhelming. 

But there was no reason to worry about that. Elphaba tackled most things in her life with the same intense drive, and this was no different. She said she had never kissed anyone before, and yet she kissed Glinda like she never wanted to do anything else. 

Glinda shifted a little, smiled into Elphaba's mouth and that was taken as encouragement. They kissed for a long, long time. Longer than Glinda had ever kissed anyone before, which suited her just fine, and in fact she was oddly giddy to be sharing a first time of her own with Elphaba. 

So long in fact that it eventually stopped raining, but neither of them noticed for a while.

Until whatever mechanism kept the piano going finally stopped and that broke the spell the two of them found themselves in, and they realized that it was just a little too quiet inside the library.

“I think—the storm’s over,” Elphaba said softly.

Glinda blinked slowly at her, dazzled. “The what?” 

Elphaba snorted, one thumb brushing the side of Glinda's mouth, perhaps trying to fix her smudged lipstick but all she did was make Glinda's heart do a somersault. “The storm, my sweet. We can leave through a window now.” 

“What did you just call me?” 

“Sweet.” Elphaba now pressed her thumb over Glinda's lips. “That's how you taste.” 

Glinda had to kiss her again after that. She had to. What else was she supposed to do? 

Luckily Elphaba didn't complain. 

But this time Glinda didn't let herself get carried away, she was the first to pull back and stand up with haste because being so close to Elphaba was making her only want to stay close to her for the rest of the night, and they really had to leave. 

“That eager to run away from me?” Elphaba asked with some amusement. “You wouldn't be the first.” 

“Oh, hush, you seem to have no idea of what you've done; you'll never get rid of me now.” 

“I won't complain about that.” 

“Get up.” Glinda laughed softly. “We should hurry in case the storm comes back.”

“Suddenly I'm not so keen on leaving.” Elphaba’s braid was basically nonexistent and totally shapeless at this point. Glinda would really have to fix it for her later once they were in the safety of their shared room. 

But first thing's first, they had to get out of there. And then she would make sure Elphaba carried an umbrella wherever she went. 

“Let's go, Elphie, don't kick up a hard time about it.” Glinda paused, and decided a different tactic. “Nothing will stop us from kissing again once we’re back, you know.”

Elphaba had never gotten to her feet faster.