#breaking into a college isnt one
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Prompt from @help-i-need-a-cool-username
Jason has once again snuck into Gotham University. Now, before any assumptions are made onto why the crime lord would break into a college, the reason is because he likes the library. That's it. The public library is trashed and small, barely taken care of, but Gotham U's? It's beautiful. Multiple floors, organized and in sections, taken care of, alphabetical order, it's magnificent. The chairs were a reason alone to sneak in, but the students here added an extra charm.
He had gone to the very back of the library on the second floor. This area was pretty well hidden and enclosed. He would come here to read without anyone questioning him, even hiding the books he wasn’t finished with yet to continue on later. Jason wasn’t expecting someone to be so close to his spot though. A few tables across stood a student, thin, tall, with pitch black hair, baggy cargo jeans, and a white t-shirt. The other hadn’t noticed him yet, so he remained quiet and just watched. He was in front of a large white board on wheels, seemingly taken from the rooms he saw down the hall.
“That doesn’t work, goddammit.”
On the white board was lines upon lines of equations- at least he thought they were equations, with most of them being letters and symbols rather than numbers. It made the vigilante’s brain hurt. The student - assumed STEM major - just kept mumbling to himself.
“Stupid physics, won’t allow interdimensional travel”
What? Jason may have been out of school since 15, but he knew no courses were asking for the answer to traveling between dimensions. It seemed the student had a habit of talking to himself when worked up or focused, possibly why he isolated himself from the rest of the library.
“If your parents could do it, why can’t you? Think Danny, think!”
That sentence wasn’t concerning at all, but at least Jason learned the boy’s name. Danny seemed to have a strange background, what did he mean by ‘if your parents could do it’? Had his parents managed to travel between dimensions? The other was chewing on the cap of the white board marker, his other hand resting on his hip as he swayed back and forth.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! That! The thing! That thingy!”
Jason could practically see the lightbulb go on above Danny’s head. Just then the other erased a solid portion of the whiteboard and dropped to his knees, ouch. He started frantically scribbling, fast and messy, barely cohesive. Though, Jason was sure that if it was Tim sitting where he was instead, the boy could probably understand everything on that board. He’d stick to English literature, thank you very much.
“That’s it! Oh my ancients! I got it!”
Danny practically jumped in the air, punching the air in triumph. Jason almost felt proud of him, this complete stranger he’s been watching, wow he was being creepy, huh? Danny shot both of his arms straight up, the marker gripped tightly in his right hand fist.
“I did it!”
He looked so happy, so excited. He began to buzz, even spinning, before stopping mid loop and turning around slowly. Shit, Jason had been caught. To be fair, Danny hadn’t exactly turned around the whole time, meaning Jason was just watching his back the whole time as he worked through his… problem? It’s such a shame, Jason was thoroughly entertained by this random kid.
“Uhhh, hi? How long have you been there?”
Oh shit, Jason had to talk now, didn’t he?
“Not very long, but long enough to know you were trying to solve interdimensional travel before apparently succeeding.”
The color drained from Danny’s face. Whoops?
“Uhm, no I didn’t.”
Now that he got a closer look, the student looked like someone Bruce would adopt. Black hair, clear blue eyes, tan skin, sharp features, the whole nine yards. He was actually fairly attractive, maybe even cute.
“Really? I could have sworn that you said ‘stupid physics won’t allow interdimensional travel’”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah sure, and I’m a student here.”
“Wait, you’re not a student here?”
“That’d only be true if you were lying.”
“Well I’m not so-”
“Uh huh, sure you’re not.”
“Look dude-”
“Jason.”
“Look Jason, there’s no way that I could solve interdimensional travel, the multiverse doesn’t exist.”
“Look Danny-”
“How do you know my name?”
“I won’t tell a single soul if you explain how you did it to me”
Curiosity won his gambit. Would he regret what he was about to say? Perhaps.
“Maybe over a coffee?”
He knew it was worth it when the marker hit the floor and Danny moved his hand to cover his red face. Well, it wasn’t the first time he’s done something he regrets, maybe this time it’d be a cute STEM major who knows the secrets to the multiverse.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#jason todd#red hood#danny fenton#danny phantom#danny fenton is a huge nerd#figuring out interdimensional travel instead of finishing his 5 page english paper due 'like yesterday'#jason has done many things he regrets#breaking into a college isnt one#neither is asking out the cute nerd with eccentric capabilities#if only jason knew what he was getting into#boo#jason todd x danny fenton#dead on main#college au#gotham university
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between my laptop battery blowing up and probably being due for a new drawing tablet that isnt a nearly decade old model with nib replacements running out i fear i wont be able to doodle much for quite some time
will probably take out the old sketchbook at best and sudoku books at worst but even so. the agony has come to claim me once more
#duck rants about something#to the comms i have as of rn im v sorry for the foreseeable delay m( _ _')m#not to mention College stuff. get me Out of here (they are not In there yet)#im running out of food to keep myself going...... ive been scrolling twt from time to time for cute fanart but theres that mood boost that#comes from drawing things myself too that isnt even comparable and raghhh i want to draw#my own comics and years old pixiv logs can only keep me going for so long#didnt do nearly as much as i wanted to over the break but its honestly still a decent amount and more than i thougth i did in the end#and i think i mightve improved a bit!!!!! or not#apologies in advance if you see me rb old stuff from time to time though. its been one of those months#and also i need to learn to not feel incredibly ashamed at self rbing anyhow so 👊 its going great (its not)
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Godddddd it’s such a pain to be hyperfixating on your own ocs. It’s a fucking nightmare. I just want these guys to do their thing and tell people their stories but nOOooOoOooo I have to write it first! But that’s not the medium I want to tell it through so I have to learn how to make comics! Or animate! Liek anfucking idirot
#rant in tags#UGH#I love them. my ocs.#hyperfixation#has anyone here seen the movie Crash? where it’s a bunch of people with wildly different lives and stories somehow being all connected in#the end through their actions and inactions and just pure coincidence#that’s the kind of story I’d LOVE to make. they’re all different characters all going through their stories in the only ways they know how#but every now and again worlds collide. and the result is chaos. but eventually everyone gets back onto their own path#until they meet up with ANOTHER group of characters stuck in a story#an award-winning broom racer gets in a bad accident and her career is over. she has to move in with her sister who’s moved into a rural town#full or werewolves.#there’s a former witch granted unimaginable magical power by a fairy who uses that magic to protect and comfort the people he meets on his#travels. he even takes a few of them in when they need a home and a family.#there’s a middle-aged journalist going through the world’s messiest divorce and trying to prove herself at a job where no one will pay her#any mind. who finally gets her big break when she can sneaks into a powerful crime lords’s party and talks to the boss. they have a f#Cinderella evening until she has to leave and with the information she’s gathered she finally makes a name for herself and everything starts#going her way until the crime Lord tracks where down#there’s a sorcerer trying to recover from her past and moving forward after terrible circumstances whos just trying to find her family from#the orphanage she grew up in.#there’s a teenage mermaid who moved on land for college and realises that she’s Super out of her depth#UGHHHHHHHH#AND THIS IS ALL ONE WORLD#THIS ISNT EVEN TO START IN THE WHAT?? THREE OTHERS??
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(muth being music theory!)
#FUCK IT MY OWN EDITION OF THE ODDLY SPECIFIC POLLS BC THESE ARE FUN#me when i've been obsessed with space/time stuff since i was a KID its more an interest than hyperfixation rn but man.#media with any of those?? i am OBSESSED (star wars rottmnt movie etc etc) like i hyperfixated on dr who for a year in middle school#the skateboard one is so funny. in high school my guard instructor saw me with a friend's pennyboard & immediately said no.#me when i was notoriously clumsy in middle + high school so everyone i knew was like. “this is a bad idea” when i did anything#my first semester of college i bought a longboard off someone then 5months later i turned around & ate SHIT it was so funny in retrospect#anyway fun sage lore i have only ever heavily injured the left side of my body. my knee + elbow and the SAME FUCKING TOOTH. TWICE.#also i have a high pain tolerance. like idk how or when but in middle school it just got Really Strong. me when i injure myself and just#live with it for a year before it becomes a concern and i get told to get an xray (i will live with a fractured knee the rest of my life)#also when i fell off my skateboard and ate shit my first concern was “ah fuck my glasses did i break my nose” and#“nah my elbow isnt broken! my arm is just rly sore from how i landed on it” (readers. it was in fact fractured.)#like i literally went “no im fine we dont need to tell my mom or go to the er” and my friends said “call your mom and go to the er”#me spitting out my tooth and blood bc i also busted my lip: that hurt. time to hobble back to my dorm.#anyway hiding this one in the tags bc i will never not just ignore my issues LMAO did it with my ptsd dx and i will continue to do it#another incredibly hyperspecific thing: oh this doesnt seem normal! im gonna ignore it and hope it goes away#these symptoms match up to something? nah i'm sure it's not that! (proceeds to get dx'd with ptsd five months later)
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i wanna go home and scream and cry and curl up in my bed and sleep for 1000000000 years
#grymms spectacular fucking posts#i seriously cannot deal w this girl today. her anxiety and self destructive tendencies and more importantly her lack of doing anything about#them is going to make me fucking break. i want to help her but she wont help herself and im stuck sitting next to her in calculus.#she my friend i want to see her succeed and learn to enjoy life but she just. she's so much.#she desperately needs and intervention but im not the person to do it and i dont wanna have to be the one to get the teachers/counsellors to#do it either.#and what makes it so hard is i know what its like to be in her position. i used to be exactly like that i used to have no life outside of#school and worry myself to death over it and i know it doesn't have to be like that and i know what happens if you dont do anything about it#before it gets too late and i dont want that to happen to her but she isnt doing anything no ones doing anything and i know she's gonna just#keep being like this until it's too late but by then she'll probably be in college as opposed to when it happened to me and i was in middle#school and had the chance to get back on my feet#anyways. this whole situation is terrible and im stuck and i just wanna go home
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barbie movie the test ground for more shameless ad movies compliments of mattel let's all clap and cheer for feminism and the fact we now get a POLLY POCKET movie
#i am so bitter about the barbie movie. if only it could have been art you know? instead of a commercial#it was like a two hour long heartfelt car commercial. like those ones where the kid goes to college#barbie movie#barbie#like. idk. this isnt a victory. this move by mattel makes it transparently clear what the barbie movie was#it was longform advertising for toys and it was testing to see if they could make money breaking into movie making#and now they're gonna make a bunch of stupid fucking movies about hot wheels and shit#we are in the dumbest timeline. period
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i dont like taking surveys usually but if it lets me give some scathing remarks to my shitty landlords then boy give me enough space for a fucking novel i WILL tell them to get their heads out of their asses
#you get 1.4 million in rent EVERY MONTH for this shit??#i swear there is an entire ant colony under my floorboards and like fifty spiders hanging around waiting to feast on them#i had to treat the place MYSELF#also why is the laundry room so fucking disgusting like ik its college students but what the fuck#just a WALL of lint in the lint catcher cover thing#and they all have like. brown dirt covering them and sand#and the place couldnt clean that shit up BEFORE we moved in??#the last place was cleaner at least even if they decided to replace all the laundry machines RIGHT AFTER THE SCHOOL YEAR STARTED#INSTEAD OF DOING IT DURING THE SUMMER WHEN NOBODY IS THERE#also the food situation is shit because why the hell is nothing really labelled#youve got one fridge with some like. gluten free cookies i guess#you (maybe) label whats vegan and gluten or dairy free on the online menu (not the physical labels??)#you only JUST started even labelling what your fucking desserts are#im not sure i trust your stale ass cereal let alone the ice cream machine#is it a good idea to have a self serve smoothie bar? probably fucking not but hey at least you tried to be cool#the music playing is obnoxious though#also just straight up dont reinforce quiet hours. in fact why not break them yourself. shitbags#hell knows no hatred like that of a person who has to deal with college students#also i can almost guarantee im one of the youngest here#i am so tired of being the responsible one. i am so so tired#this isnt about my landlord anymore#genuine-fucking-ly why do you all wear shoes in the house and why do you put said shoes on the table we put food on and why did you leave#your nasty little crumbs all over the couch and floor last night and why dont you clean your hair off the sink after brushing and why dont#you wash your dishes or at least rinse the food off instead of leaving them by the shared sink for days#and why dont you stop coming home stinking of weed and watching tiktoks loud as hell and closing doors like you are slamming them#and why dont you fucking communicate your problems to my goddam face and why dont you tell us before you start a fucking hair business#in the living room???#and why has nobody though to clean the gotdam microwave. why have your meatball bits been in there for like. 3 weeks#'just tell them if you have a problem with it' WHO LEAVES MEAT BITS IN THE MICROWAVE AFTER SPILLING IT???#i wouldnt have a problem if you had some common fucking sense
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minor college update because its actually 1am rn but i downed caffeine at 9pm to do homework so whatever ANYWAYS
im working on finalizing my spring classes and. well. let me tell you its looking like SOMETHING.
History: There’s only 2 classes offered for the specific history class I wanna take but like that’ll be chill. Haven’t checked times or dates, but hey! it’ll be fine!
Literature: I kid you not, there are like 10 different professors teaching the same lit class I need. Probably because its a mandatory core class for EVERYONE. Just as long as its not this prof again. anyways i have my SELECTION of times and days
Calculus: The fun one! Because I really want to take this professor again, I’ll be moving to an asynchronous online course for this next class. if you dont know what that means, think something like Khan Academy, but there’s actually a deadline on your homework. Online posted lectures, no virtual meetings. perfect!
Physics: This is the ugly (but interesting) one. Because of my college’s core class requirements, I HAVE to take the second class in this level (there’s two 1000-level classes and two 2000-level classes. So I can’t take one 1000 and one 2000 despite the fact that their first classes have no prereqs—its both of one level). There’s just one—well, two—issues. The only classes offered right now for what I need are either:
A 4pm at a vaguely shadier campus (for context, there’s essentially 6-ish satellite campuses around the city specifically for People Like Me and also the Associate degree peeps. people getting Bachelors and Masters have to go to Downtown) which meant that on labs days id be there until 10pm. yeah no.
A 8:30am class on a different campus on Saturday, which means that not only are the lectures 2.5hrs (bc its one day, not two like M-W or Tu-Th) the labs are RIGHT after it. id be on this campus (which is 30mins from me WITHOUT rush hour, which is like 7-9am here) for SIX HOURS. ON A SATURDAY.
some people I know don’t have finalized schedules yet (ironically, the sixth child we recently adopted [by that i mean let stay with us but we’re really friendly so. accidental adoption.] actually works at Downtown bc Money and she doesn’t have her spring semester finalized) but also dude my physics is NOT looking good /silly
#zero thoughts#zerros free college years#btw im pjsk tiering in the spring. actually the week After My Break (still pissed about that lol)#hence why what my schedule turns out to be is so important#bc calc being online is huge for me bc that means i have one less class inperson ie lost time#but physics isnt looking pretty#lit and history im not worried about esp because im registering the day classes open#but. yeah.
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Applying for jobs is weird
Applying for jobs is even weirder when I have passed the initial interview stage of a paid internship application
#genuinely. i think i have a good shot at getting the internship (tho theres always a chance i wont get it but im being positive)#like they responded FAST to my application#however#i wanna start putting money aside to hopefully move out around december (winter break)#so im gonna be trying to get a second job w flexible hours (willingness to work on weekends should help)#will i likely lose my sanity and want to kill myself?#probably#will i feel that way even if all i was doing was taking college classes?#yes#if it comes down to it ill keep 1 job + classes or ill drop at least 1 class (one of the gen eds)#we'll see#but despite the stress. it WOULD keep me outta the house and therefore away from my grandpa#soooooooo#idk but we'll see#also it isnt a guarantee ill get any job but man am i hoping to. i need that fucking experience#i have no experience so it would really help w future applications#plus aforementioned desire to move out as soon as i can#which. can be hundreds-thousands per month to live on top of tuition and i wanna actually stay enrolled full time#anyway#welcome to the 'amber wishes their family actually prepared them for adulthood' hour#amber's shit you can ignore
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Im so excited for the murder mystery today ajwjwjqjaj IM GOING TO EXPLODE
#nictxt#but i have college today damm :'(#i will only be able to watch one hour of it probally#and isnt cellbit coming back from his break today?
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it feels good not to go to school again. my mind feels at ease tbh
#id be stressing and overthinking abt why someone isnt talking to me#and have to hear shit like like the time#the break before college is really helping me to stop letting all of this affecting me#i just text the ones im close with and thats all
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demon slayer hcs: the hashira men having a demon!SO that’s immune to sunlight pt.1
characters: fem!reader x rengoku, giyuu
PT 2 with Sanemi HERE
AN: the long awaited request is finally here!! sorry for the delay! im in college and finals week was crazy! but the semester is over and i'm ready to get back to it with a bunch of new content for you guys! <3
RENGOKU
when he comes home from a mission to find the house completely trashed and a trail of blood leading to the bedroom he freezes
his first thought is that you're dead
someone or something has broken in
and he wasn't here to protect you
immediately blames himself
and poor kyo just can't force himself to walk in the bedroom only to discover your broken bleeding body
his heart couldn't take it
its not until he hears movement and small noises of pain that he pushes the bedroom door open
only to discover you hiding in the corner of the room covered with a blanket
relief
until he pulls the blanket from your head to see what you've turned into
he doesn't react
doesn't talk
doesn't move
doesn't even breathe
just stares at you
until you manage to croak out his name
this snaps his mind into high gear
immediately thoughts of the young Kamado girl are running through his head
she has never hurt a human and seems to do just fine
and if you were going to harm him you would have done it already
quickly pulls you into his arms, making sure to avoid the sunlight peaking through the curtains and carries you to the bed to set you down
scribbles a note to the head of the corps to inform him of your condition
and spends the rest of the day and that night comforting and reassuring you because of what had to have been a traumatic night
a week or so passes
you fall back into your old routine of caring for the house
and its quite obvious that you're becoming depressed
no longer able to enjoy the warmth of the sun and being cooped up in the house for your own safety
it isnt until a young man wearing the head of a boar bursts headfirst through the window
breaking the glass, ripping down the curtains
with a "comin through!"
that you realize the sunlight doesn't harm you like it does to other demons
leave it to inosuke lmao
when kyo returns home from another mission around noon
imagine his surprise when his demon SO bursts through the front door into the sun
and into his arms
takes a minute for him to process that you're not burning up
"oh my god we have to get you inside NOW"
the poor man is having a heartattack
but then he sees your smile and hears your laugh for the first time since the attack
finally he's able to realize that the sun has no effect on you
and he's picking you up and swinging you around in a giant hug
i just know he gives the best hugs
i'd let him crush me to death in one
of course kyo is still sometimes crushed with guilt
he blames himself for your transformation in the first place
but the most important thing is that you're safe and happy again
GIYUU
why can't this man ever just be happy
when you don't show up at your usual meeting place with Giyuu in between missions he knows somethings up
he rushes to your home
and there you are
sitting on the steps in front of your house
covered in blood and in tears
it isn't until he gets closer that he realizes what has happened
he has no words
everyone that giyuu has ever loved has been taken from him
and he allowed himself to love you
thats why this has happened
blames himself even though it obviously not his fault
still not speaking he looks at the sky to see the sun
and then back at you
a demon
who isn't affected by the sunlight in the slightest
and isn't attacking him
and then he disappears
when he returns several hours later it's dark outside
and with him he's brought Shinobu and the Kamado siblings
one of which is a demon
Shinobu checks you over and determines that the blood you are covered in is indeed yours
but any wounds you had have already healed
Nezuko senses what you are but seems to know that you're docile and snuggles up to your side as a comfort
and Giyuu just watches quietly
when Nezuko has fallen asleep her brother picks her up giving you a sad smile before he leaves
Giyuu helps you stand and brings you inside
he runs a bath so you can clean urself off
and goes about cleaning the house which was destroyed during your attack
it isn't until you're in bed that Giyuu lays behind you, tugs you close to him, and speaks to you for the first time
"i am staying with you. and i WILL turn you back."
and those two sentences bring you all the comfort in the world
#demon slayer#anime#demon slayer x reader#giyuu tomioka#giyuu#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#rengoku kyojuro#demon slayer headcanons#tomioka giyu x reader#giyuu x reader#rengoku x reader#kyojuro x reader#rengoku kyojuro x reader#kyojuro rengoku#kyojuro rengoku x oc#giyuu tomioka x reader
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her doll ʚɞ billie eilish
in which you're billie's plaything and she promised she'd make you her girlfriend. is she honest?
contains smutt!! billie's manipulative, readers an airhead!! dumbification, degradation, fingering&oral (r recieving), tiny bit of edging? cheating, mentions of alcohol, random oc who's billies gf, billie isnt famous in this
wc 3.9k+
a/n this is my first one shot everr!! feedback is always appreciated!! please know that my grammar is ass and english is genuinely not my first language!! :D
"You know, it's a good thing you're done with that two-timer," your best friend says, causing you to tilt your head in confusion.
"What do you mean?" you ask.
She chuckles lightly as she runs the straightener through her hair effortlessly. "It's a relief you cut ties with Billie. You do know she was never gonna end things with Julie, right?"
Your head snaps back in shock, disbelief evident in your eyes. "No! She told me she was going to make me her girlfriend, but I just had to wait for Julie to get over her."
When Billie first came into your life, it felt like a fairy tale. She was the most captivating person on campus, while you were the sweet, naive girl everyone admired from afar. It seemed like fate had brought you together, except for the fact that she said a girlfriend.
After six months of seeing each other, you finally asked why you couldn't be hers. She gave you excuses, claiming Julie was in a dark place and needed her, but that you satisfied her in ways Julie couldn't.
You were always a ditz. There was no denying it. You grew up with disappointed parents and weary teachers, it felt miraculous that you even made it to college. Little did you know, that very naïveté was what captivated Billie. She thrived on slipping into your mind, convincing you that she belonged there. She adored the way she could bend your perception, making you believe she alone knew what was truly good or bad for you.
But Julie was always lurking in the shadows of your twisted love. Your encounters with Billie were sworn in secrecy, whispered beneath the canopy of night. Billie never missed an opportunity to tell you how much better you were than Julie; her words both intoxicating and confusing. Yet, despite her relentless cheating, you wondered—if you were so much greater, why didn’t she just end things with Julie?
Eventually, you grew tired of being her secret and decided to end things. And of course, she didn’t take that well. She blew up your phone, relentless and pleading, until you could take no more and finally blocked her. If Billie wasn’t willing to claim you as hers, then you had no choice but to walk away. You vowed to yourself, and your friends, that you wouldn’t look back, even though every part of you longed to.
"It kills me how you're such an airhead, Y/N," she said, her voice sharp with frustration. "She never broke up with her. I saw them together not long ago, wrapped around each other like they were the only two people in the world. She lied to you, just so she could keep fucking you over. Can’t you see that? Now, for the last time, hurry up and finish your hair. We're leaving at nine, and you can’t go looking like this."
You grab the straightner, confused at her words. Before you blocked her, Billie swore to you that she'd break up with Julie and go straight to you, and if she really was going to why would she be seen a couple days ago cuddling up to her? Why would Billie lie to you?
The overpowering smell of stale alcohol and sweat fills the air as you roam the upper floors of the three-story mansion, looking for a quiet room to rest. You lost track of your friends long ago and now feel a bit dazed from the shot of tequila you’ve had.
Parties were never your scene, in fact you’d only attend them if your friends dragged you or if Billie was there. She never misses a chance to eye you hungrily, her lips curling into a teasing smile at the mere sight of you.
You remember one particular night vividly. You were at a Halloween party, wearing the shortest skirt you owned, acutely aware that Billie would likely be eyeing you. As you made your way to the bar, you suddenly turned to find Julie and Billie lips intertwined. Your breath caught in your throat, not just from the sight, but because Billie’s gaze was locked on you, piercing through you as if she were the one kissing you.
Soon after, you recall her telling you to meet her at her apartment, which you did without hesitation. She sat you down and demanded that you beg for her fingers, which you did so obediently. You pleaded and pleaded, tears streaming down your cheeks as she loomed over you, a dark gleam in her eyes and a smirk playing on her lips. She’d blow smoke in your face from time to time to tease you even more, marking you as utterly pathetic for her.
A low groan escapes your lips as you shove a random door open, stepping into a dimly lit room. A perfectly made single bed dominates the space, its crisp white sheets a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in your mind. You stumble further inside, your hazy vision clouding your thoughts, when the sudden thud of the door slamming shut jolts you back to reality.
Turning slowly, your gaze finds itself upon Billie. Her raven hair falls like a dark waterfall around her striking blue eyes, an unsettling beauty that captivates yet confounds you. What was she doing here? Why was she in the same room as you?
She shuts the door behind her and bites her lip, eyeing your pitiful excuse for a skirt. Anger fills your cheeks as you remember what your best friend told you earlier. Even if you didn’t block Billie, she still would’ve lied to you—something you can hardly believe.
“Hi there, sweet thing. Care to explain why I’m blocked?” She leans in slightly, her gaze lingering on your mini skirt, a spark of curiosity mingling with a flicker of desire in her eyes
The way she looks at you drives you wild, igniting a heat that spreads through your entire body. Billie was aware of it—she knew exactly which buttons to push and how to push them. It’s what made you so favourable to her.
You huff in frustration and head towards the bed, feeling an overwhelming rush of emotions. Why was she so oblivious to your feelings? You’ve been yearning to be her girl for what feels like an eternity, carrying the weight of your longing like a heavy stone in your chest. The discovery that she never truly ended things with Julie twists in your stomach like a knife, a sickening realization that shatters the delicate hope you had clung to.
In a swift motion, she grips your waist, halting your escape. With a flick of her wrist, she turns you to face her “What’s your issue?” The challenge hangs in the air, and she furrows an eyebrow, her palm heat against the small of your back, igniting every nerve in your body.
“I’m not talking to you and I don’t ever want to see you again!”
She barks out a laugh, eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh yeah? Is that why you’re still standing here, pretending to be so tough? Maybe you just don’t wanna leave without getting off...”
Heat rushes to your cheeks as you grip the edge of the doorframe, fully aware that you could walk out at any moment. Yet, deep inside, you realize you crave her presence more than you want to admit.
“Whatever! I’m not saying a word to you,” you shoot back, though your voice wavers.
Billie tilts her head, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. She lets you go and you feel empty. She settles down on the bed, patting her lap. “Come sit on my lap, baby. Tell me why you’re so fussy.”
Her stance on the bed gives you an all too familiar feeling back to when you first met; your friends had left you to either get drinks or to get fucked, and you were on the verge of blacking out. You wandered to an unfamiliar room, taking in the scent of frat boys and wavering sex in the air. You sat down on the bed and felt your nerves tense up, until Billie sat beside you.. Billie’s presence had ignited something in you that night, a thrill mingled with fear. You had felt so small, so innocent under her gaze, and yet drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
She leaned in closer, her voice low and sultry, laced with promises that sent shivers down your spine. You remembered the way she brushed a stray hair behind your ear, the soft, lingering touch that made your heart race. She told you how she’s been eyeing you for a while, showering you with compliments about your beauty, how your dress clung to your curves, and how her girlfriend could never compare to you.
Her beautiful gaze had you held captive, and her whispers and promises made you turn into goo. She promised she’d make you hers one day if you let her touch you, which you did, prompting her to steal your virginity. She had promised you that she’d save you from all the evil in the world, calling you naive and unaware. Little did you know, she was the evil who took advantage of you and your mind.
You lock eyes with her and find yourself longing for her, and you obediently lower yourself onto her lap. She bites her lip, holding your gaze as her lips brush against your ear, “So?” she whispers softly.
“You… You told me you broke up with Julie! My friend told me she saw you two together,” you muster the courage to say, blinking away the tears threatening to spill from your doe-like eyes.
“Aww, sweet girl,” Billie coos, her fingers caressing your cheek. “You’ve misunderstood…”
“Really?” You look up at her.
“Yeah, I was just returning some things to Julie after our breakup, and she offered to treat me to ice cream. It was nothing serious, angel.”
You tilt your head, doubt creeping in. “But she said she saw you two cuddling!”
Billie blinks, and for a fleeting moment, you see her features go dark before her expression softens. She smiles, “That was just me comforting her; her cat had passed away recently.”
You nod, comprehension dawning. You internally smiling, realizing that Billie would never lie to you. She did break up with her. Right?
“I hope she’s alright,” you say, feeling a pang of sympathy.
“Mmm,” Billie murmurs, her hands exploring your body, slipping beneath your skirt, and grasping your flesh with a roughness that makes you whine.
“You make the prettiest noises baby.”
She shifts your position, leaving you sprawled with your back against the bed. With a teasing smirk, she pulls up your skirt, mumbling about how you aren’t wearing shorts under your skirt.
She let her fingers hover over your clothed cunt, eliciting a whimper from you.
“Does.. Does this mean I can be your girlfriend, Billie?”
She didn't spare you a glance, instead focusing her gaze intently on your pussy and giving it a firm slap. “My dumb baby thinks she can block me and cut me out? How pathetic..” She teased your entrance through your underwear, making you whimper as you squeezed your hands against her arm.
“Please, Billie..”
She licks her lips with a predatory gaze. The way your tits spill out of your dress and the way you blink up at her so innocently drives her crazy. You’re her doll, and she can mold and manipulate you at her will…
“Beg baby. Tell me you’re my doll who I can do whatever I want to with.” You hesitate, your thoughts consumed by conflicting emotions about Julie and how you really longed for Billie to be yours. Memories of having to meet up privately flood your brain, you long for publicity with her.
She drew circles against your entrance, maintaining unwavering eye contact and challenging you to beg for her. No matter what, you couldn't help but stare into her cold, blue eyes as they taunted you.
"Please, make me your girlfriend, Billie..." You choke out, revealing your true desires.
She rolled her eyes and sucked in a breath, impatient. "I will. Now shut up and beg for it, bunny. Don't you want to feel good against my fingers?"
You blinked, your mind slow to process her words. "I… I’m your doll and... You can do whatever you want to me," you admitted, your voice soft and uncertain. You were always so needy, so desperate for her. It was pathetic, but you didn't care. All that mattered was Billie.
She chuckled softly, her hand reaching out to cup your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet her eyes. "Good girl," she praised, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Such a good, needy girl."
The words sent a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching in your throat. You swallowed hard, your eyes fluttering closed as you leaned into her touch. God, you were such an airhead, so easily manipulated, so eager to please. It was embarrassing, but that’s what drove Billie insane, you're her own personal doll.
Billie’s hand started to travel, her fingers trailing down your thigh, inching closer and closer to the apex of your legs.
You bit your lip, trying to stifle a whimper, but it escaped anyway. Her touch was electric, setting every nerve ending on fire.
"Quiet, sweet girl," she whispered, her voice soothing yet commanding. "Let me take care of you."
You could feel yourself melting under her words, your body relaxing against the plush chair. Your skirt was already riding up, exposing more of your thighs, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was Billie.
Her fingers finally reached their destination, slipping between your folds with practiced ease. You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily against her hand. She gave your pussy a slap, her fingers lashing against your sensitive flesh.
"Keep still," she observed, her voice thick with satisfaction. "Already dripping... What a slut you are."
The degrading words should have made you cringe, but instead, they only served to heighten your arousal. You moaned softly, your head falling back as you surrendered to the sensations she was stirring within you.
"Mmm," you moaned, your voice breaking as another wave of pleasure rolled through you. You felt like you were melting against her fingers.
Her fingers delved deeper, finding your clit and giving it a firm pinch. You cried out, your body shaking with the force of your climax. Red heats up your cheeks, embarrassed you finished quite quick, but that’s what drives her insane, she wasn’t done with you yet. She continued to stroke and toy with your sensitive nub, prolonging your orgasm until you thought you might lose your mind.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she withdrew her hand, leaving you gasping for breath and trembling. Her eyes glittered with amusement as she licked your slick off her fingers then llifted them to your lips, watching you licking them slowly and seductively.
"Mmm, she could never have a pussy as sweet as yours," she purred, her gaze locked onto yours. "Such sweet, needy pussy."
You could barely form a response, too overwhelmed by the intensity of what she'd just done to you. All you could manage was a weak whimper.
But Billie wasn't satisfied with that. She leaned in even closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, "tell me you’re a slut baby. A useless dumb slut all for me."
You hesitated, your mind racing as you tried to find the right words. She nudged you with her knee, a silent reminder that she wouldn't be patient forever.
"I... I'm your dumb, needy slut," you finally stammered, the words spilling out in a rush. "Your dirty little plaything."
Your words surprised you, she could mold you into whatever she wanted. Earlier in the night you were pleading to be her girlfriend and now you don’t care what you are to her.
A satisfied smile spread across her lips. "Good girl," she said, patting your cheek gently. "And now, let's see how much more you can take before you completely break."
With that, she rose, her fingers once again reaching for your skirt. This time, she yanked it up higher, revealing your drenched pussy to the world. You whimpered, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but there was nothing you could do to stop her.
"Spread your legs," she commanded, her tone brooking no argument.
You obeyed without question, parting your thighs wide open for her. She knelt down in front of you, her eyes roaming over your glistening folds with obvious delight.
"Beautiful," she breathed, her fingers dipping back into your slick heat. "So fucking beautiful."
You moaned, your body arching towards her as she began to tease you once more. This time, however, she wasn't content with just fingers. No, she wanted something more…
Billie stood between your legs, her eyes dark with lust as she stared down at you. Her lips twisted into a cruel smile, revealing teeth that glinted menacingly in the faint light. She leaned closer, her breath hot against your inner thigh, and whispered, "You’re nothing but my personal little slut, aren’t you? A pathetic whore.”
Her words stung, cutting deep into your already fragile self-esteem. But there was something about the way she said them, the way her voice dripped with disdain, that made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to deny it, to scream back at her that she was wrong, but the truth was, she wasn’t. Not entirely. Deep down, you knew she was right. Knew that you were weak, that you needed someone like her to take control, to control your every action, to make you feel something other than the numbness that had settled over you.
Billie must have sensed your hesitation, because her smile grew wider, more sinister. "That’s what I thought," she purred, her fingers trailing up your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "But don’t worry, sweetie. I’m going to make sure you remember just how much of a whore you really are."
With that, she lowered her head, her tongue darting out to flick against your clit. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pleasure that shot straight to your core, making you gasp and arch your back. But Billie wasn’t done. She let out a low chuckle, her breath warm against your sensitive flesh, and then began to circle your clit with the tip of her tongue. Slowly, deliberately, she increased the pressure, her movements almost taunting in their precision.
"Do you like that?" she asked, her voice mocking as she continued to tease you. "Do you like feeling my tongue on you, making you squirm? Or is it too much for my dumb baby?”
Your mind was a tangled mess of conflicting emotions. On one hand, you hated her for the way she spoke to you, for the way she reduced you to nothing more than a plaything for her amusement. But on the other hand, her words—no, her entire presence—had a strange effect on you. They made you feel... alive. Like the emptiness inside you was finally being filled, if only by pain and humiliation.
"That’s it," Billie murmured, her tongue now flicking back and forth over your clit in quick, sharp strokes. "Beg for it. Beg me to keep going, my little baby."
The command sent a shiver down your spine, your resolve crumbling under the weight of her dominance. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. All you could do was moan, your hips bucking against her tongue as the pleasure built inside you.
"Beg,” Billie demanded, her voice harsh, unyielding. "My little slut. Don’t you dare try to ever run away from me again. You belong to me."
The words tumbled out of you in a rush, your voice trembling with both shame and arousal. "Please... please don’t stop... I need you to... I love... I wanna..."
Before you could finish, Billie pulled away, leaving you panting and desperate. She looked down at you, her expression cold and calculating. "Need me to what?" she asked, her tone sharpening with impatience.
"I need you to make me forget," you blurted out, your voice barely above a whisper. "Make me forget how worthless I am..."
For a moment, Billie just stared at you, her eyes narrowing as she processed your words. Then, she let out a low, satisfied hum. "Good girl," she said, her voice softening just enough to send a thrill of excitement through you. "But just so we’re clear, you’re not allowed to come until I say so. Understand?"
You nodded quickly, your body trembling with anticipation. Billie smirked and then returned her attention to your throbbing clit, her tongue sliding back into place with a slow, deliberate pressure that left you gasping. This time, however, she didn’t tease. Instead, she dove right in, her tongue swirling around your clit in broad, sweeping circles that sent waves of pleasure crashing through you.
"Ahh... fuck... Billie..." you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as your body arched up towards hers, desperate for more.
"Shhh," Billie soothed, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she continued to lap at you. "Just relax, angel girl. Let me take care of everything. You don’t need to think anymore. Just feel."
Her words echoed in your mind, wrapping around your thoughts like a vice, squeezing tighter and tighter until all you could focus on was the sensation of her tongue on your skin. The world outside the bedroom faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a battle of wills—hers to dominate, yours to submit.
And yet, as much as you hated to admit it, part of you reveled in it. In the way she made you feel, in the way she took control and forced you to confront your deepest, darkest desires. It was as if she had unlocked something inside you, something primal and raw, and now that it was free, there was no going back.
Billie must have sensed the shift in your demeanor, because she suddenly changed tactics, her tongue dipping down to flick at the entrance of your pussy before plunging inside. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and surprise that left you gasping for breath.
"Oh God... Billie...!" you cried out, your body jerking as she continued to thrust her tongue deeper, exploring every inch of you with an intensity that left no room for doubt.
"Good girl," she murmured again, her voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh as she spoke. "That’s it. Just let go. Let me make you forget everything."
And with that, she sealed her lips around your clit, sucking gently as her tongue continued to work its magic. The combination was too much, too intense, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm, your body trembling with the effort of holding back.
"Please... please let me come..." you begged, your voice cracking with desperation.
But Billie wasn’t done yet. She pulled back, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she watched you squirm beneath her. "Not yet," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "We’re just getting started."
You whine at her words, desperate for a release. Everything was at her will, and it was clear that you truly were her doll.
a/n sorry i got kinda lazy at the end idk!! hope you enjoyed to some extent! this is my first time actually writing smut so idk how i didd plz give some feedback :D
#billie eilish#billie eilish smut#billie eilish fic#billie eilish fanfiction#wlw smut#billie eilish one shot#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x you#billie eilish x y/n#dom billie#billie eilish imagine
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Abed isn’t just autistic and quirky and mentally ill he is also explicitly intrinsically aware of the laws and reality of his universe in a way that no character can comprehend and I think that goes pretty unrecognized.
Every time Abed makes a self aware comment about how they live in a show tv and everyone goes “no abed this is real life!! Tv and real life aren’t the same!!” It is meant to be understood that within the context of their worldview this is indeed real life and not a tv show, but the crazy thing is is that everyone is wrong. Abed literally lives in a tv show and I am watching him on my screen right how. How am I meant to believe that Jeff is more reasonable and in touch with reality then Abed is when he tells him that his life isn’t a show when I am sitting here watching that show right now.
It would be like if the office was a documentary filmed without the characters consent or knowledge and every episode Dwight would go “Michael I feel the cameras on me! They’re making a show about us!” and everyone would be like haha no Dwight ur so paranoid!! And it’s literally never acknowledged in anyway that isn’t implicit that obviously Dwight was right the whole time bcus I am watching the office as we speak. That’s trippy!! That has creepy and existentially terrifying undertones, in my opinion, and it deserves to get some credit!
u may be thinking that this is just a natural paradoxical consequence of having forth wall breaking be a massively integral aspect of a piece of media and that I am reading too much into smth that was never meant to be that deep, and I raise you the last scene of the entire show: https://youtu.be/lMW58MiSLe0?si=4DFqMIBInotA8Lzi
This scene starts as a parody of an advertisement featuring a voiceover done by creator Dan Harmon where a stock family plays a “community board game”, and the scene soon divulges into this family coming to the horrific realization that they don’t really exist and were only created as a one off gag in a sitcom, rendering there lives literally meaningless and basically, nothing. The scene ends with Dan Harmon’s corny advertisement voiceover feverishly ranting in the style of an add’s quickly listed out medical disclaimers about how the show isn’t as good as it could be and he’s sorry and also he’s mentally ill and hates himself.
The fact that this is the scene that they chose to end the show with is nuts!! and very telling and supportive of my theory that community isnt about 7 students at a community college getting into lighthearted and wacky sitcom hijinks, it’s actually about derealization and the existentially horrifying implications of being a character in a TV show. Actually it’s both, but hear me out.
#community tv show#community tv#community nbc#community#nbc community#abed nadir#abed nadir community#abed community
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hi mae !! im currently in love with eddie, so i was wondering if you could write an eddie x fem!reader drabble, where they're in a long distance relationship and are finally getting to see each other in person again after a while of being apart? if isnt something youre interested in, i understand :))
Hi gorgeous, thank you for requesting!!
cw: mention of weed (Eddie deals but they're not smoking)
Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 708 words
Eddie likes to think of himself as erring on the wild side, but you know he sticks to his routines the same as a crotchety old man. And even though he’s graduated from high school, he still deals to a few of the kids he knew when he was there. You’re lucky; you step into the woods behind the school right as the buyer is leaving, a scraggly kid whose head bobs as he walks and who looks at you like you might go tattle to his parents. You’re too excited to take offense.
Eddie’s still sitting at his picnic table, one leg hiked up on the bench like he’s thinking of climbing up, closing the clasps of the tin lunchbox he keeps his stash in. He doesn’t startle as you come up behind him, just turns with a half interested look in his eyes.
A laugh bubbles out of you when they widen comically.
“Hey,” you say, picking up your pace to cross the distance to him.
“Holy fuck.” Eddie nearly trips getting out of his seat. He leaves the lunchbox behind. “Jesus, what the fuck?”
“Glad to see you too,” you laugh, putting your arms around him.
And you know from experience that Eddie’s a fantastic hugger, but this one is a bit of a scramble. He’s rushed, greedy, hands starting at your sides and then wriggling their way across your back until he’s got you where he wants you. Pulled tight against him with his arms banded across the high and low points of your back, face pressed into your shoulder, your feet still touching the ground but just barely. The whole production makes your chest hurt, a gratifying ache.
“What are you doing here?” It sounds almost like an accusation, muffled affectionately into the material of your shirt.
You can’t stop giggling. Eddie’s hair tickles your nose. “Crazy thing,” you reply, “they actually let us have summers off.”
Eddie’s funny in that he almost never asks the right questions. The last time you’d seen him had been during winter break, and when you’d gone back to school and been calling every night, he only asked about your life there. Always what you were doing and how much fun you were having, infinitely sweet in his support of your college experience even if he couldn’t share in it, and in his curiosity he’d somehow forgotten to wonder when you might be coming home again.
“Okay, smartass.” He gives you a happy little squeeze. “How long do I get you for?”
“Until August.”
Eddie makes a delighted moaning sound that sets your giggles off all over again.
“Yes.” His tone evokes the feeling of a fist-pump without the follow-through of the actual motion, but his hands slip from around you. He grabs your face and kisses you hard. “Fuck yeah!”
You’re grinning massively as you meet him kiss for kiss, arms crawling up around his shoulders.
“Best. Surprise. Ever.” He holds you still for a series of quick pecks, deviating from your lips to kiss your cheek, your nose. “Shit, is it, like, super unromantic if I start taking your clothes off?”
“Kinda,” you say, though you don’t deny him when one of his hands slips down to paw at your ass. “We’re maybe fifty feet from a high school right now.”
“Mhm, mhm, but hear me out.” Eddie’s words are interspersed with little suctioning sounds, his lips planting themselves eagerly upon any bit of you they can find. “Back when we went here, that would have been the hottest thing, you know? We can even go under the bleachers if you want.”
You don’t open your eyes, but they’re rolling. “My ovaries are quaking.”
Eddie groans low in his throat and squeezes your ass teasingly. “So stubborn.”
“We can go back to your place,” you offer.
“No, no.” He sighs, heavy and dramatic. “We’d have to drive, and I’m not ready to be across a console from you yet.” Eddie backs you up until your backside hits the picnic table, helping you up and positioning himself between your legs. His arms wrap around you again, half makeout and half hug. “Let’s stay here for a while. Wouldn’t be able to focus on the road anyway.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x self insert#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson one shot#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fandom#stranger things x reader
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The reunion
Warnings:angst, kinda nean lizzie at first, internalized homophobia
Summary: the reader breaks lizzies heart for what she believes is the ideal life only to realise that isnt what she wants for her and her daughter. She meets lizzie again and realises its always been her but not it might be too late.
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The room buzzed with conversation, the kind that hung in the air at every fashion event. Models and designers, photographers and celebrities, all mingled beneath the glittering lights of the New York City skyline. The clinking of champagne glasses echoed off the walls, but Lizzie barely heard it.
She stood near the bar, dressed in a sleek black ensemble that seemed to blend in with the shadows, her hand wrapped around a cold glass of water. Lizzie hated these events—hated the false small talk, the performative glamour—but it came with the job. Tonight, though, she was here for business. Some sort of press tie-in for a campaign her team was working on. And while she wasn't one to shy away from her public persona, there was something unsettling about tonight. A tension in the air that had nothing to do with the flashes of cameras or the hum of expensive conversations.
She hadn’t expected to see her tonight.
Across the room, talking with someone from Vogue, was Reader. The same Reader she hadn’t spoken to in nearly six years. The same Reader who had shattered her heart at NYU, leaving her with nothing but a curt, "This just isn’t what I want."
Lizzie had heard the rumors, of course. Reader’s marriage to a tech billionaire, their opulent life in Tuscany, the birth of their daughter. The life she had chosen over Lizzie. It was all public knowledge, splashed across glossy magazine spreads, Reader in her perfectly tailored wedding dress, standing in some sprawling villa with the same smile Lizzie once knew by heart.
And now, Reader was here. Not across a TV screen or the pages of Vogue—here, in the same room, breathing the same air. It felt suffocating.
“Lizzie?”
Her name snapped her out of her trance, and she turned to see scarlett, one of her co-stars, waving a hand in front of her face. “You alright? You looked like you were about to pass out.”
Lizzie forced a smile, the kind she’d perfected after years in front of the camera. “Yeah, just... tired. Long day.”
Scarlett eyed her suspiciously, then glanced over her shoulder. “Oh. Her.”
It seemed like everyone in their friend group had known about Lizzie and Reader. They had been inseparable back in college, the kind of couple that everyone assumed would make it. Lizzie’s friends had warned her about Reader, though. They’d said she wasn’t ready for the kind of commitment Lizzie wanted, that she had her own battles to fight. But Lizzie had been so sure, so in love.
Until the day y/n left.
“Do you want to leave?” scarlett asked gently, her hand resting on Lizzie’s arm.
“No,” Lizzie said, setting her jaw. She wasn’t going to run. Not now. Not again. “I’m fine.”
She wasn’t, but she was a master at pretending she
Lizzie kept her distance from y/n for most of the night. She caught glimpses of her in conversation, laughing, talking about fashion with some of the other designers. Reader looked... the same. A bit more polished, perhaps, a little more poised. Her hair was styled differently, but her eyes—those eyes that Lizzie once woke up to every morning—still held that same spark.
It was maddening.
"Alright, everyone!" A voice boomed from the stage. "Thank you all for coming to tonight’s charity auction. We’ll begin soon, but first, a huge thank you to our co-sponsors for the evening—Cortez Fashion Group and the one and only Elizabeth Olsen!"
Applause rang out, and Lizzie smiled stiffly, raising her glass. She hated these forced recognitions, but what could she do? It was part of the business. Part of the image she had to uphold.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw y/n turn toward her. Their eyes met.
Time stopped. The noise of the room fell away, leaving only the heavy thud of Lizzie’s heartbeat in her ears. Reader’s expression was unreadable, but Lizzie could feel the tension from across the room, like an invisible thread pulling them together against their will.
She broke the gaze first, setting her glass down on the bar and excusing herself from scarlett’s side. She needed air. She needed space. She needed to not be in the same room as Reader.
The terrace outside the venue was quiet, with only a few people here and there. Lizzie leaned on the railing, breathing deeply, trying to calm the storm raging inside her.
“Lizzie.”
She froze. That voice—it hadn’t changed. Slowly, she turned around, and there she was. Y/n. Standing just a few feet away, hands clasped in front of her, looking unsure for the first time that night.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” y/n said softly, her voice a bit hesitant. “I just... I saw you and thought—”
“Congratulations,” Lizzie cut her off, her voice cold. “On the divorce.”
Y/n winced, her face tightening. “Yeah, I figured you’d heard.”
Lizzie crossed her arms, her heart thudding harder now, anger simmering just below the surface. “Of course I heard. Just like I heard about the wedding. The honeymoon in Tuscany. The baby. It was all very... public.”
Reader looked down, the weight of Lizzie’s words settling between them like an unspoken truth. “I didn’t come here to rub anything in your face.”
“No?” Lizzie said, her voice sharp. “Then why are you here?”
y/n took a step closer, the tension between them palpable. “I work for Cortez now. It wasn’t planned, I swear. But... seeing you here...”
“Seeing me here, what?” Lizzie snapped. “What exactly did you expect, y/n? That I’d just... welcome you back with open arms? That we’d pick up where we left off?”
Y/n flinched at Lizzie’s words, but she didn’t back down. “I didn’t expect anything,” she said, her voice quiet. “But I needed to see you. I... I didn’t realize until it was too late how much I threw away.”
Lizzie’s chest tightened, a flood of memories threatening to break the surface. The late nights, the plans for their future, the love they shared. She had given everything to Reader, and in return, she had been left behind. Forgotten. Replaced by a life that was more acceptable, more "normal."
“It’s too late for that,” Lizzie said, her voice cold but trembling at the edges.
Y/n took another step forward, her eyes locking onto Lizzie’s. “Maybe it is. But I’ve spent the last five years trying to convince myself I didn’t make the biggest mistake of my life. And now... seeing you here... I know I did.”
Lizzie didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Because part of her had wanted to hear those words for so long. But it didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t erase the years of hurt.
And just like that, the weight of the past hung between them—heavy, unspoken, and impossible to ignore.
A week had passed since the event, but the conversation with y/n replayed in Lizzie's mind on a loop. No matter how much she tried to focus on her work or immerse herself in her life, y/n’s words lingered.
“I know I made a mistake.”
Lizzie wished she could shake it off, wished she could be stronger, but the truth was, y/n had always been her weak spot.
Then, the unthinkable happened: y/n called.
It was professional, of course. The merger between Cortez and another fashion group had led to a lot of crossover with Lizzie's current projects. There was no avoiding it. Y/n was now a permanent part of her professional life.
At first, Lizzie remained distant, keeping their conversations short and strictly business. But y/n didn’t push. She was respectful, even remorseful at times, careful not to overstep the fragile boundaries between them.
And little by little, despite everything, the walls Lizzie had built began to crack.
Lizzie sat in her office, staring at the email. It was a simple invitation, nothing extravagant. An industry mixer that Cortez Fashion Group was hosting—a routine networking event. Y/n had sent it with a formal tone, nothing out of place. Still, Lizzie hesitated.
It wasn’t the event that bothered her. She’d been to hundreds of these gatherings before. It was the idea of seeing y/n again, in a more intimate setting, that unsettled her. Ever since their encounter at the charity event, Lizzie hadn’t been able to get y/n’s words out of her head. “I know I made a mistake.”
Lizzie had spent years convincing herself that she’d moved on. She was successful, admired in her field. Her career had taken off, and on the surface, she seemed perfectly content. But there was a hollow space inside her that had never really healed, a space that y/nhad left behind.
After a long moment, she sighed and typed a quick response.
I’ll be there.
The mixer was held at an upscale rooftop bar overlooking the city. It was an invitation-only event, which meant it was packed with the kind of people Lizzie had learned to tolerate—high-profile designers, executives, and influencers whose smiles never quite reached their eyes. She walked in alone, feeling the familiar weight of expectation settling on her shoulders.
As she entered the venue, her eyes instinctively searched for y/n. She spotted her quickly, standing near the bar in a fitted dress, laughing softly with a group of executives. Lizzie noticed the change in her posture, more composed and reserved than the girl she had once known at NYU. She seemed more controlled now, as if life had polished away the rough edges that had once made her so unpredictable and exciting.
Lizzie was about to turn and grab a drink when she noticed her. Their eyes met, and y/n’s smile faltered, just for a second. Then, she excused herself from the group and made her way over.
“Lizzie,” she greeted her, voice soft but steady. “Thanks for coming.”
Lizzie nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak yet. She wasn’t sure what to say. The last thing she wanted was to fall into the same emotional pit she had climbed out of years ago. But there was something about her presence that was disarming, almost painfully familiar.
They stood in awkward silence for a moment before y/n cleared her throat. “I know this probably isn’t easy for you,” she began carefully. “I didn’t mean to make things difficult. But I’m... glad you’re here.”
Lizzie raised an eyebrow, unsure where this was going. “You’re glad?”
She glanced away, fidgeting with the edge of her clutch. “I just... I’ve been thinking a lot since we talked. About everything.” Her voice dropped, as if she was speaking more to herself than to Lizzie. “About us.”
Lizzie’s heart gave a painful thud in her chest, but she kept her expression neutral. She’d heard all this before, years ago, before everything fell apart. And she wasn’t going to let herself get sucked back in.
“yn,” she said, her voice sharper than she intended. “You can’t just come back into my life and expect things to be like they were.”
Y/n flinched, but she nodded. “I know. I don’t expect that. I don’t... deserve that.” She looked up, meeting Lizzie’s eyes. “But I’ve changed. I’ve had to change.”
Lizzie took a breath, folding her arms across her chest. “What do you want from me, y/n?”
Y/n was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was softer, more vulnerable than Lizzie had ever heard it. “I want to fix what I broke.”
The words hit Lizzie like a punch to the gut. She had spent years wishing Reader would say something like that, years hoping for an apology, for some kind of explanation. But now that it was happening, all she felt was exhaustion.
“You can’t fix it,” Lizzie said quietly. “What we had... it’s gone. You made your choice.”
“I know,” y/n whispered, her gaze dropping to the ground. “But I made the wrong choice.”
There it was again, that spark of regret, of honesty that Lizzie had craved for so long. But she couldn’t let herself fall for it. Not again.
“You got the life you wanted,” Lizzie said, her voice firm. “The husband, the child, the perfect little family.”
Y/n’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “It wasn’t perfect.”
Lizzie almost scoffed, but stopped herself. She had seen the pictures, the lavish lifestyle, the curated Instagram posts. It all seemed so perfect from the outside.
Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I thought I wanted it,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought if I followed the path everyone expected of me, if I lived that ‘traditional’ life, I’d be happy. But I wasn’t.” She looked up at Lizzie, her eyes filled with a deep, quiet sadness. “I haven’t been happy since I left you.”
Lizzie’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected that level of honesty. She wasn’t sure what to do with it.
“I’m not asking you to take me back,” she continued quickly, as if sensing Lizzie’s hesitation. “I know I don’t deserve that. But I need you to know... I never stopped loving you.”
The words hung in the air between them, raw and unfiltered. Lizzie swallowed hard, feeling the weight of them settle deep in her chest. For so long, she had convinced herself that y/n had moved on, that she had left their relationship behind without a second thought. But hearing this—knowing this—was almost too much.
Lizzie turned away, looking out over the city skyline. She couldn’t trust herself to look at y/n right now. “You hurt me,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “You broke my heart.”
“I know,” y/n said, her voice cracking. “And I’ve lived with that every single day since.”
Lizzie closed her eyes, letting the cool night air wash over her. She wanted to scream, to cry, to let out all the pain she had bottled up for so long. But she couldn’t. Not here, not now.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” Lizzie admitted, her voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I even want to.”
Y/n took a shaky breath, her voice thick with emotion. “I understand. But I had to try. I had to tell you the truth, even if it doesn’t change anything.”
For a long moment, they stood in silence, the city lights flickering beneath them. Lizzie didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process everything that had just been laid at her feet.
Finally, she turned to face y/n, her expression softening just a little. “I need time.”
Y/n nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Take all the time you need.”
And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving Lizzie alone on the terrace, her heart a tangled mess of old wounds and new possibilities.
Weeks passed, and Lizzie couldn’t shake the conversation from the mixer. She tried to immerse herself in her work, throwing herself into her latest projects, but the once love of her lifes words kept echoing in her mind.
“I never stopped loving you.”
One afternoon, a message came through her assistant that y/n wanted to schedule a meeting. Business, of course. She was working on a new fashion campaign, and they needed Lizzie for an endorsement. It wasn’t unusual, but the idea of sitting in a room with y/n again filled Lizzie with a strange mix of anticipation and dread.
She arrived at the office, dressed sharply in her usual understated style. As she entered the conference room, she was already there, looking over some documents. When she saw Lizzie, she smiled—soft, almost shy.
“Thanks for coming,” y/n said, standing up to greet her.
Lizzie nodded, trying to keep her cool. “Let’s just get this over with.”
They sat across from each other at the long conference table, discussing the campaign in careful, professional tones. But beneath the surface, there was something else, something unspoken that lingered between them.
After the meeting, as Lizzie gathered her things to leave, but hesitated when she heard her name called “Lizzie?”
Lizzie looked up, meeting y/e/c eyes. “Yeah?”
“I... I’ve been thinking about what you said,” y/n began slowly. “About needing time. I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait, for as long as it takes.”
Lizzie didn’t know how to respond. She had spent so long building walls around herself, so long convincing herself that she was better off without her. But now, with the very person that forced those walls upon her, standing in front of her, offering her vulnerability so openly, those walls didn’t seem so impenetrable anymore.
“I don’t know what I want,” Lizzie admitted quietly, her voice betraying the uncertainty she had been feeling for weeks.
Y/n nodded, her expression softening. “That’s okay. I’m not asking you to decide anything right now. Just... think about it.”
Lizzie sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’ve been thinking about it. Too much, honestly.”
There was a beat of silence before she stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She didn’t touch Lizzie, but she stood close enough that Lizzie could feel the warmth radiating off her.
“I meant what I said,”
Y/n’s words hung in the air between them, laden with weight, with promise. “I meant what I said,” she repeated softly, her eyes searching Lizzie’s for any sign of openness. “I’ll wait.”
Lizzie’s heart ached at the sincerity in her voice, the vulnerability she hadn’t seen in so long. Part of her wanted to reach out, to close the distance between them, but another part of her—the part that still nursed the scars of their past—held her back.
She looked away, trying to steady herself. “You can’t just wait around for me, y/n. That’s not fair—to either of us.”
Y/n stepped back slightly, respecting Lizzie’s space. “I know it’s not fair. I’m not asking for guarantees. I just... I need you to know that I’m here. If you ever want to try again.”
Lizzie exhaled, feeling the emotional weight pressing down on her. Try again. It seemed so impossible, like trying to stitch together fabric that had been torn beyond repair. But then, hadn’t she always known that y/n held a part of her that no one else ever could?
She shook her head. “It’s not that simple.”
“I know it’s not,” y/n said, her voice still soft but firm. “I just... I want to do things right this time. I don’t expect you to forget what happened. I’m not asking you to. But I want to be honest now in a way I wasn’t back then.”
Lizzie crossed her arms, trying to keep her guard up. She had to protect herself, didn’t she? She had spent so many years building this life on her own, without y/n, convincing herself that she didn’t need anyone.
But standing here, with her so close, that wall she had built seemed to waver.
“I have to think about it,” Lizzie finally said, her voice steady but laced with hesitation. “I don’t know if I can trust you again. And I’m not sure if I want to risk getting hurt.”
Y/n nodded, her expression unreadable. “I understand. I really do. Take all the time you need.”
And with that, Lizzie walked out of the room, leaving ynstanding there, watching her leave for the second time in their lives. But this time, there was no finality to it—just a promise of more complicated emotions to come.
Days turned into weeks, and Lizzie found herself caught in a whirlwind of thoughts she couldn’t control. No matter how hard she tried to focus on work, on her personal life, her mind always drifted back to y/n.
Their past together felt like an old movie reel, scenes flashing through her mind in vivid detail—late nights studying at NYU, the playful teasing, the quiet moments where Lizzie felt like she had found her person. And then the bitter end, y/n’s sudden departure, the feeling of being left behind.
One afternoon, Lizzie found herself sitting on her couch, a cup of tea in hand, scrolling through her phone. She didn’t even realize she had been looking until she found herself on y/n’s social media page. Pictures of her and her daughter filled the screen—a little girl with bright eyes and a wide smile, playing in parks, dressed in miniature designer clothes. There was no trace of her ex-husband on the page, only yn and her child, a life that seemed carefully crafted for the public eye.
Lizzie’s heart clenched. She had always known yn wanted children. It was one of the things they had talked about during their relationship, their future together. But at the time, she hadn’t been sure how it would all fit into her life. Lizzie had tried to plan for it—had even looked into adoption options, but yn had seemed hesitant, unsure of the path forward.
Lizzie scrolled past a few more pictures, then stopped at one caption that caught her eye:
“Building a new chapter for both of us.”
She set her phone down, staring at the wall in front of her. You had built her new chapter, it seemed. But what did that mean for them now? Could they really create something new out of the wreckage of their past?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door. Lizzie frowned, setting down her cup and walking to answer it. When she opened the door, she froze.
Yn stood there, dressed casually in jeans and a jacket, holding a small bouquet of wildflowers. “I’m sorry for showing up unannounced,” she said quickly, her expression nervous. “But I couldn’t wait anymore.”
Lizzie blinked, caught completely off guard. “What... what are you doing here?”
She gave her a hesitant smile, the kind that looked almost apologetic. “I wanted to talk. Face-to-face. No meetings, no events. Just us.”
Lizzie stepped aside, letting her in, still trying to process what was happening. They stood in the living room, an awkward silence hanging between them. Yn glanced around the apartment, taking in the cozy atmosphere, the personal touches.
“Nice place,” Reader said softly, her fingers brushing over a framed photo on the mantle.
“Thanks,” Lizzie replied, crossing her arms. “Why are you here, yn?”
Yn’s smile faded, and she looked down at the flowers in her hand. “I... I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. About us. And I realized I’ve been waiting my whole life to make things right with you.” She handed Lizzie the bouquet, her eyes full of meaning. “These are for you.”
Lizzie took the flowers, her mind racing. She wasn’t sure what to feel—gratitude, anger, confusion? All of it swirled inside her, but as she stared at the wildflowers in her hands, something softened in her.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” Lizzie admitted, setting the flowers down on the table. “It’s not that simple.”
Yn took a deep breath, nodding. “I know it’s not. But nothing worth it ever is.”
Lizzie’s eyes met yn’s, and for a moment, the weight of their past seemed to fade. All she saw was the woman standing in front of her—the woman who had hurt her, yes, but also the woman who had loved her deeply. The woman who was still willing to fight for them, even after everything.
“You really think we could work things out?” Lizzie asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Yn stepped closer, her eyes soft but filled with determination. “I don’t know. But I’m willing to try. And I promise, this time, I won’t run.”
Lizzie felt her heart tighten, a mix of hope and fear fighting for dominance. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but something in yn’s eyes told her that this time, it could be different. This time, it could be real.
“I’m scared,” Lizzie confessed, her voice trembling slightly.
She reached out, gently taking Lizzie’s hand in hers. “Me too.”
For a long moment, they stood there, the silence between them thick with emotion. And in that quiet, Lizzie realized that maybe, just maybe, some wounds could be mended. Maybe some threads, once unraveled, could be woven back together—stronger, more resilient.
Finally, Lizzie squeezed yn’s hand and whispered, “We’ll take it slow.”
She smiled, her eyes shining with hope. “Slow is fine.”
And in that moment, for the first time in years, Lizzie felt like she was on the verge of something new. Something that was worth the risk.
The next day with sun was barely breaking over the Los Angeles skyline lizzie found herself Inside a chic coffee shop, the air was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and the gentle hum of conversations created a cozy atmosphere. Elizabeth sat at a small table, her hazel eyes fixed on the steaming mug before her. She was lost in thought over her interaction with yn, swirling the latte with a delicate hand.
It wasn’t until Scarlett, her co-worker and confidante, slid into the chair opposite her that Lizzie snapped out of her reverie. Scarlett had a knack for reading her moods, and today, that look was amplified tenfold—concern was etched on her striking features.
“Hey, you okay?” Scarlett ventured, glancing around to ensure their conversation remained private.
Lizzie hesitated, fiddling with the sleeve of her oversized cardigan. “I don’t know, Scar. I’ve been thinking a lot... about Y/N.”
Scarlett raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. “You mean your Y/N? The one you were so resolute about distancing yourself from?”
“Yeah,” Lizzie sighed, her breath catching slightly. “It’s just… It’s complicated. I thought I had it figured out, but now…”
“Now what?” Scarlett pressed, sensing her friend’s hesitation.
“I think I want to let them back in,” Lizzie admitted, her voice low as if afraid of the weight of her own words. “But I’m terrified.”
Scarlett leaned back, processing Lizzie's confession. “Do you want my honest opinion?”
“Always,” Lizzie replied, her eyes searching Scarlett’s for guidance.
“Okay,” Scarlett began, choosing her words carefully. “You know Y/N means a lot to you. It’s clear they care deeply for you too. But was the distance necessary because of a mistake, or was it something deeper?”
Lizzie took a deep breath, the memories flooding back. Her relationship with you had been intense, marked by genuine connection, laughter, and love. But the pressures of their careers had created barriers. “It was both,” she sighed. “I pushed them away because... well, it felt safer than being hurt again.”
Scarlett watched her closely. “And now, you feel different?”
"Now I just feel lonely,” Lizzie admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "Life feels hollow without them. I can't help but think... maybe I was wrong to shut them out.”
Scarlett nodded, understanding the complexities of the world they inhabited—the constant scrutiny of their lives, the expectations of being in the public eye. “But are you prepared for the possibility of getting hurt again?”
“I have to be.” Lizzie’s heart raced at the thought. “They’re worth the risk.”
Scarlett smiled, a genuine warmth spreading across her face. “Then you should talk to them. Just be honest about yhe way you feel. It’s the best way.”
Lizzie felt a rush of determination surge through her. “You’re right. I can't let fear guide my decisions anymore.”
Time skip
Its autumn now and the leaves had begun to change, painting the city in warm hues of amber and crimson as autumn settled in. New York, with its bustling streets and vibrant energy, felt like a different world. The air was crisp, filled with promise, and the skyline sat against the setting sun like a canvas smeared with gold.
It was three years since Lizzie had decided to take that leap, rekindling a flame that had flickered but never extinguished between you. Despite the years apart, the memories of those carefree days spent at college were etched in both of your hearts. Back then, you were two ambitious students pursuing your dreams, often tethered by affection, laughter, and late-night conversations in tiny dorm rooms. Those moments laid a foundation, but after graduation, life had scattered you down different paths. Both of which ended in heartbreak yet now as two different people time has found its way of untangling the knots created. Lizzie’s boldness in reconnecting had not only reignited your relationship but transformed it into something far beyond what either of you had imagined. Both of you had grown, carving out identities in Hollywood and beyond, yet the bond never felt stronger.
As you walked hand-in-hand on the familiar streets of Greenwich Village, Lizzie wore a smile that lit up her entire face, her dark hair catching the light in a way that made her look ethereal. You had gone out for coffee, a simple outing that had turned into a leisurely exploration of the city. With every corner, every shop you wandered into, memories fluttered back—like the time you both tried to decipher the obscure art at a gallery, only to end up laughing at your lack of understanding.
“Do you remember this place?” Lizzie asked, stopping in front of a quaint little café framed by twinkling fairy lights.
“Of course,” you replied, the smile on your face widening. “You insisted we try that ridiculous pumpkin spiced latte because ‘it’s autumn, and we must embrace seasonal flavors.’”
“It was delicious!” she defended, laughing. “Well, until I spilled half of it on my sweater.”
You chuckled at the memory, how cute she had looked trying to clean herself up with paper towels, the barista’s confused expression as you both burst into fits of giggles. “I think that’s the night you made me promise to always be your coffee buddy.”
Lizzie squeezed your hand, a glint of mischief lighting her eyes. “Do you still promise?”
“Always,” you said softly, looking into her eyes, feeling the weight of your words. The world around you faded, your laughter mingling with the air, wrapping you both in a cocoon of nostalgia.
As the sun dipped lower, painting the skyline a glorious shade of orange, Lizzie suggested walking toward the waterfront. You obliged, knowing how much she loved the view of the Hudson against the backdrop of the city.
On the dock, the water shimmered, reflecting the dwindling light. Lizzie leaned against the railing, staring out at the horizon, her profile capturing the light perfectly. It was moments like this that caused your heart to swell with joy and deep affection.
“Remember when we stood here in the middle of the night?” she asked suddenly, cutting into your reverie. “We talked about our dreams—about being actors, artists, and how we wanted to change the world.”
“Yes, and you were so passionate about the roles you wanted to explore. It was inspiring,” you said, recalling how fervently she had spoken. “You’ve certainly made an impact.”
Turning toward you, her eyes sparkled with a blend of nostalgia and ambition. “And you were there through all of it: the auditions, the chaos, even the times I doubted myself. You never let me give up.”
“Just as you never let me lose hope when life tried to knock me down,” you replied, stepping closer.
You shared a long, quiet moment, your hearts beating in rhythm. It was in these silences that conversations bloomed, where you understood each other without words. Then Lizzie spoke, her voice soft, almost a whisper. “I’ve been thinking a lot about… us, the future.”
You held your breath, sensing the significance of her tone. “What do you mean?”
She shuffled her feet, glancing down for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “When I first reached out to you three years ago, I was terrified. I was afraid of ruining what we had, afraid that we might not be the same people we were back then.”
“And look at us now,” you said, warmth flooding your chest. “We’ve built something beautiful.”
Her eyes glistened with tears—happy tears. “I know. And I realize that taking that leap to be with you was the best decision of my life. You’ve helped me grow, and I hope I’ve done the same for you.”
“Always,” you echoed again, your heart racing.
With a sudden rush of determination, Lizzie stepped away from the railing and reached into her pocket. Inside, she produced a small velvet box, holding it with both hands as if it contained the weight of the world.
The air buzzed with electricity, and your breath caught in your throat. “Lizzie…”
“Three years together—it’s been everything I dreamed of and more. I can’t imagine my life without you by my side,” she said, her voice steady even as her hands trembled slightly. She knelt down, the evening light framing her face in a divine glow. “Will you marry me?”
Time stood still. The world around you blurred, and all you could see was her—beautiful, courageous, and vulnerable. You nodded, tears of joy spilling down your cheeks. “Yes! Yes, a million times yes!”
Lizzie’s face lit up like the fireworks you had once seen together at the Fourth of July, pure happiness radiating from her. She slipped the delicate ring onto your finger, and in that moment, everything felt right. The past, the struggles, the joys—they all converged into this singular moment of love and commitment.
“You make me the happiest person in the world,” she whispered, her eyes shining.
“You make me the happiest too,” you replied, pulling her close, feeling the warmth of her embrace.
As the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving a canvas of stars overhead, you both stood wrapped in each other’s arms, ready to embark on an incredible new chapter. This was love, powerful and transformative, and the best was yet to come.
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