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Find Experts for DEFI Consultation Services
Get expert DEFI consultation services for navigating decentralized finance. Gain strategic insights and maximize returns. Book a consultation today!
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Transformative Consulting Mentorship for Growth and Success
Leverage your potential with customized consulting mentorship to fuel your professional success. Our mentoring program is run through a one-to-one relationship that helps work through specific pain points while providing solutions and capitalizing on opportunities. Business strategies, effective leadership, and a strong network will be achieved with the insights from experienced mentors who offer action advice. With continued assistance and a tailored approach, you can feel confident in your profession to perform at your best. Join today and start along the path towards becoming a more effective and influential leader in your field.
#defying labels#consulting mentorship#keynote speaker#abolish cps#sherman counseling#child welfare abolition#foster care motivational speakers
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The Fastest Growing Custom Blockchain Development Company
Introduction to Custom Blockchain Development
Custom Blockchain Development Company is the process of creating tailored blockchain solutions to meet specific business needs. Unlike public blockchains like Bitcoin or Ethereum, custom blockchains are designed for private use within organisations or industry-specific applications. These blockchains can be customised to suit unique requirements, ensuring maximum efficiency and security.
Importance and Benefits of Custom Blockchain Development
Custom Blockchain Development Company offers several advantages for businesses. Firstly, it enhances transparency by providing a secure and immutable ledger of transactions. Secondly, it increases efficiency by automating processes and reducing intermediaries. Moreover, it improves data security by implementing cryptography and decentralisation. Lastly, it fosters trust and enables collaboration between multiple parties.
Understanding the Market Growth of Custom Blockchain Development Companies
The Custom Blockchain Development Company has witnessed remarkable growth in recent years. It has expanded beyond cryptocurrencies to encompass various sectors, including finance, supply chain, healthcare, and more. Blockchain technology has revolutionised how businesses operate by introducing decentralised solutions to traditional centralised systems, offering improved security, efficiency, and transparency.
Market Trends and Growth Potential
The market for Custom Blockchain Development Company is projected to grow at an unprecedented rate. With the increasing adoption of blockchain across industries, the demand for customised solutions is on the rise. Additionally, the integration of blockchain with other emerging technologies like artificial intelligence and the Internet of Things (IoT) further amplifies the growth potential of custom blockchain development companies.
Key Factors Driving the Fast Growth of Custom Blockchain Development Companies
The increasing demand for Custom Blockchain Development Company is a significant factor driving the rapid growth of custom blockchain development companies. As businesses across diverse sectors recognize the benefits of blockchain technology, they seek tailored solutions to address their specific needs. This surge in demand has created fertile ground for custom blockchain development companies to flourish.
Advancements in Blockchain Technology
Advancements in Custom Blockchain Development Company have also contributed to the fast growth of custom blockchain development companies. From scalable blockchain networks to smart contract capabilities, continuous innovation has expanded the possibilities of blockchain solutions. This has enabled custom blockchain development companies to offer more sophisticated and versatile services, attracting a wider client base.
Role of Regulations and Security
Regulations and security play a crucial role in the growth of custom blockchain development companies. As Blockchain development Company gains prominence, governments and regulatory bodies are making efforts to establish frameworks and guidelines. This provides legitimacy and a sense of security to businesses seeking custom blockchain solutions. The adherence to regulations and robust security measures by development companies further instilled confidence in potential clients.
Exploring the Services Offered by a Leading Custom Blockchain Development Company
A leading custom blockchain development company offers a wide range of services tailored to meet specific client needs. These services can include blockchain consulting, smart contract development, private blockchain implementation, decentralised application (DApp) development, and auditing of existing blockchain solutions. They work closely with clients to identify goals and implement customized blockchain solutions that maximise efficiency and deliver results.
Custom Blockchain Solutions for Different Industries
Custom blockchain development Company excel at providing industry-specific solutions. Whether it’s finance, supply chain, healthcare, or any other sector, they understand the unique challenges faced by different industries and design blockchain solutions to address those challenges effectively. Their expertise in customizing blockchain technology ensures seamless integration with existing systems and optimized performance.
Case Studies:
In this case study, we’ll dive into how a Custom Blockchain Development Company revolutionized a specific industry. From streamlining processes to enhancing transparency, this company’s tailored blockchain solution addressed industry-specific pain points and improved efficiency. Get ready to discover how blockchain can transform a whole industry!
Scalable and Secure Blockchain Implementation
In this captivating case study, we’ll explore how a development company tackled the Blockchain Consulting Company challenge of scalability and security. By developing an innovative solution, they ensured that their blockchain implementation could handle a massive volume of transactions while maintaining top-notch security measures. Find out how they turned potential obstacles into opportunities!
Blockchain Solution for Streamlining Supply Chain
Prepare to be amazed as we uncover how revolutionised the supply chain industry. Say goodbye to inefficient Custom Blockchain Development Company processes and welcome transparency and traceability! Learn how this forward-thinking company transformed the supply chain landscape, making it more efficient, reliable, and secure through the power of blockchain.
Challenges and Opportunities in the Custom Blockchain Development Industry
Blockchain development isn’t without its challenges. In this section, we’ll explore the technical hurdles that custom blockchain development companies face. From scalability to interoperability, these companies must navigate a myriad of obstacles to deliver effective solutions. Join us as we delve into the technical challenges and explore how these companies overcome them.
Future Trends and Predictions for Custom Blockchain Development Companies
The future is brimming with possibilities for Blockchain development Company. This section will explore the integration of emerging technologies, such as Internet of Things (IoT) and Artificial Intelligence (AI), with blockchain. Delve into the potential synergies and exponential advancements that lie ahead. Brace yourself for a glimpse into the future!
Potential Impact of Artificial Intelligence on Custom Blockchain Development
Artificial Intelligence is making waves across industries, and its potential impact on Blockchain development Company is no exception. In this section, we’ll discuss how AI can enhance the efficiency, security, and functionality of blockchain solutions. Join us as we explore the exciting marriage of these two cutting-edge technologies.
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#blockchain consulting company#blockchain development company#digital marketing#gratixtechnologies#defi development company#blockchain#metaverse development company#Custom Blockchain Development Company#Blockchain Consulting Company#Smart Contracts in Blockchain#Blockchain development Company
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Beyond Traditional Finance - Discovering Opportunities with DeFi Consulting Solutions
In the dynamic world of decentralized finance (DeFi), businesses often find themselves at a crossroads, needing expert guidance to navigate this rapidly evolving landscape. This is where DeFi Consulting Solutions come into play, offering a beacon of expertise in a sea of uncertainty.
Understanding DeFi and Its Implications for Businesses
DeFi, short for decentralized finance, represents a shift from traditional, centralized financial systems to peer-to-peer finance enabled by decentralized technologies built on the blockchain. This paradigm shift opens a plethora of opportunities for businesses looking to leverage these technologies for growth and innovation.
The Role of DeFi Consulting Services
A leading DeFi Consulting Services provider plays a pivotal role in guiding businesses through the intricacies of DeFi. With a deep understanding of blockchain technology and its applications, these consultants help businesses tailor strategies that align with their specific goals.
Crafting Personalized DeFi Strategies
The first step in leveraging DeFi for your business is developing a strategy that aligns with your unique objectives. This could range from capitalizing on DeFi for asset management, streamlining transactions, or utilizing smart contracts for enhanced operations. A DeFi consultant works closely with clients, understanding their needs, and crafting a strategy that best fits their business model and goals.
Smart Contract Development: The Backbone of DeFi
One of the most crucial aspects of DeFi is the development and implementation of smart contracts. These self-executing contracts with the terms of the agreement between buyer and seller being directly written into lines of code are pivotal in the DeFi space. DeFi Consulting Experts bring in their technical expertise in developing secure and efficient smart contracts. This not only ensures the seamless execution of business operations but also fortifies security, a critical element in the DeFi ecosystem.
A Collaborative Approach to DeFi Solutions
The essence of a successful DeFi strategy lies in the collaborative effort between the business and the consulting service. DeFi consultants understand that each business has its unique challenges and opportunities. By working closely with clients, these experts co-create solutions that are not just technically sound but also aligned with the business's long-term vision.
Conclusion
In conclusion, as businesses venture into the realm of decentralized finance, the guidance of DeFi consulting services becomes indispensable. These services provide the necessary expertise, strategies, and technical support to navigate the complex world of blockchain and DeFi. By partnering with the right consultants, businesses can unlock the full potential of DeFi, paving the way for a tokenized, efficient, and innovative future.
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No.1 Blockchain Development Company Gratix Technologies
Blockchain development has emerged as a revolutionary force in the technology landscape, reshaping industries and challenging traditional approaches. At the forefront of this innovation is Gratix Technologies, recognized as the №1 Blockchain Development Company. In this blog, we delve into the world of blockchain development, explore Gratix Technologies’ pioneering role, and showcase why it stands out as the industry leader.
Understanding Blockchain Development
Blockchain development Company at its core, is a decentralised and distributed ledger technology that ensures secure and transparent transactions. It has gained prominence for its ability to enhance security, reduce fraud, and streamline processes across various sectors.
Gratix Technologies: A Pioneer in Blockchain Development
Gratix Technologies has positioned itself as a trailblazer in blockchain development. With a commitment to excellence, the company has earned accolades for its contributions to the industry. Whether it’s implementing innovative solutions or staying ahead of the curve, Gratix Technologies has consistently set benchmarks.
Why Choose Gratix Technologies for Blockchain Development?
Gratix Technologies stands out for its unmatched expertise in blockchain technology. Clients benefit from tailored solutions, with success stories and positive testimonials attesting to the company’s capabilities.
Services Offered by Gratix Technologies
Gratix Technologies provides a comprehensive suite of blockchain development services. From initial ideation to deployment, the company offers solutions that align with clients’ unique needs.
The Gratix Advantage
The company’s commitment to cutting-edge technology, innovation, and a strong emphasis on security and scalability distinguishes it from the competition.
Success Stories
Real-world impact is the true measure of success. Gratix Technologies proudly showcases numerous successful blockchain projects, demonstrating its ability to deliver tangible results.
Industry Trends in Blockchain Development
Gratix Technologies Smart Contracts in Blockchain doesn’t just follow industry trends; it shapes them. Stay informed about the latest advancements and witness how Gratix Technologies influences the future of blockchain.
Simplifying Complex Concepts
Blockchain development can be complex, but Gratix Technologies is dedicated to making it accessible. By breaking down intricate concepts, the company ensures that blockchain development is understandable to a broader audience.
The Gratix Approach to Simplification
User-friendly interfaces, tools, and educational resources form the cornerstone of Gratix Technologies’ approach. Blockchain Development Company The goal is to empower clients and the community with knowledge.
Customer-Centric Approach
Gratix Technologies prioritises client satisfaction. Through a collaborative and transparent development process, clients are actively involved in the journey, ensuring that the final product aligns perfectly with their vision.
Testimonials and Client Experiences
Discover firsthand what clients have to say about their experiences with Gratix Technologies. Positive feedback underscores the company’s commitment to delivering exceptional results.
Future of Blockchain Development with Gratix Technologies
As the landscape of Blockchain Development Company evolves, Gratix Technologies remains at the forefront. Gain insights into the future of blockchain and understand how Gratix Technologies plans to continue its legacy of innovation.
Are there specific industries where Gratix Technologies has excelled in blockchain development? Gratix Technologies has successfully implemented blockchain solutions across various industries, showcasing versatility and adaptability.
Conclusion
In conclusion, Gratix Technologies stands tall as the №1 Blockchain Consulting Company, offering unparalleled expertise and innovative solutions. The blog has explored the fundamentals of blockchain, Gratix Technologies’ role as a pioneer, and the unique aspects that set it apart. Whether you’re a business exploring blockchain or an enthusiast eager to understand the industry, Gratix Technologies is the trusted partner for your journey into blockchain development.
#Blockchain development Company#DeFi Development Company#Web 3.0 Development Company#igaming software#metaverse development#blockchain consulting#blockchain development#meta nft marketplaces#web 3.0 development#dao development company#igaming kyc#metaverse real estate
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Bruce: Attention, please. I understand a majority of you had plans this weekend. I want to be considerate of your time, so I'll make this brief. Lex Luther has hired a boy to seduce Wayne Enterprise secrets out of Tim. I need you to be weary at the gala. Dismiss.
Tim: Hold on hold on. I'm going to need a LOT more information than just that.
Bruce: I said dismissed Tim. Your siblings have plans.
Dick: *Raises a hand*
Bruce: Yes?
Dick: I can tell this approach is from the parenting books Uncle Clark got you, which is great. Thank you for trying, but we really need more details B. You can be considerate of our time by properly using it.
Bruce: hmmmm. Alright, if everyone feels this way. I suppose I can explain
Batkids: *Nodding*
Bruce clicking on the computer to show a picture: This is Daniel Fenton. His family used to own Fenton Works until the unfortunate loss of Mrs. Madeline Fenton in a car accident. Mr. Jack Fenton was convinced a ghost killed his wife. He was arrested after he crossed state borders chasing it and went on a rampage in downtown Gotham. He was deemed mad with grief and has been in Arkham for the last four years. Neither Jasmine nor Daniel were able to keep the family business afloat and were eventually bought out by Luthor.
Steph: I remember Mr. Fenton. He made that weird ray that was just throwing green goo on people. Besides scarying a few civilians, he didn't do anything bad. No one was harmed.
Bruce: That was the Fenton children argument as well. They were unable to get Mr. Fenton out of Arkham and into a different institution. I fear corruption is at play. During his stay in Arkham Mr.Fenton, has continued to create inventions, though no patent has been filed. All funds from said inventions are being made by local Mafia families instead.
Jason: Those thieves are preying on a grieving man. Rumors has it, Mr. Fenton isn't even aware his wife is dead. His mind blocked it, but he's slowly deteriorating. They're trying to squeeze out every drop of cash they can from him before his mind is completely gone.
Bruce: Exactly, and his children know it. Recently, Clark overheard Luthor offer Daniel a deal. He steals Wayne Enterprise secrets from Tim - probably got the idea after reading the article of Tim coming out, no doubt - and Luthor pulls enough strings to get Mr. Fenton out.
Tim: That's horrible. Is there any way we can help the Fentons instead? Move Mr. Fenton to a different place?
Bruce: I'm working it, but I believe Luthor is blocking my attempts. He did the same to Miss Fenton's college and loan applications. The pair are in a finical crisis that does not seem to get better no matter what they do. Luthor has employed similar tactics before.
Damian: Thus trapping the Fenton siblings in a box, unable to defy Luthor. They may be so desperate they would agree to anything after this many hardships.
Bruce: Exactly.
Tim: Alright I'll sleep with him
Cass: Literally, no one said you needed to sleep with him.
Tim: It's will be tough but I'll take one for the team.
Duke: Tim, that's not what B is saying at all.
Bruce: Wait, wait. I think Tim wants to sleep with Daniel Fenton. Hold on, let me consult the experts *opens parenting book*
Bruce: This isn't covered in the book. I don't know what to do.
Dick: I do. Tim, you're not sleeping with Daniel Fenton, but you are going to pretend his seduction is working. We're going to stop Luthor and the Mafia families controlling Arkham. We need to buy time to do that.
Tim: Kisses and over clothes stuff only. Got it.
Damian: Life has been hard for you since Dowd left you, hasn't it Drake?
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#from a fic i never wrote#The Bats family briefly#meanwhile Danny and Jazz are having a moral crisis#the Bats have forgot proper reactions to things#Jack is slowly fading#Luthor is evil
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Tokenized Real Estate - A New-Gen Approach To Digital Ownership
From ancient days till today, Real estate has been deemed one of the safest investment options. However, with the introduction of blockchain technology, real estate ownership has been made accessible to the masses. Real estate tokenization is a revolutionary approach that has made real estate investing feasible for small-scale investors. Also, this solves the age-old problem of illiquidity in the…
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#Blockchain Consulting Company#defi development company#End to end blockchain development Company#enterprise blockchain development company#Launchpad development company#Real Estate Token Development Company
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things i manifested in the last 5 months.
◞ a trip to paris with my mom, because, obviously, i deserve cinematic montages of me walking along the seine in sunglasses and a red coat.
◞ a trip to italy’s ski resorts with my dad and brother, living my best après-ski la dolce vita moment, probably in a fur-lined coat, giving ‘mysterious heiress with a past.’
◞ a trip to ibiza. . .do i even need to elaborate? the sun, the sea, the absolute lack of thoughts in my head, just vibes.
◞ becoming more prettier. a few months ago, i took that test where a robot “according to science” calculates how pretty you are. i got about 52%, skip to right now and it shows 80%!!!!
◞ a trip to the belgium grand prix because i am a girl of culture and i like watching millionaires drive in circles really, really fast. everyone PLEASE manifest that charles leclerc falls in love with me.
◞ losing weight after ED recovery, but in a way that felt good and right, not in a ‘war with my body’ way, but in a ‘my body is thanking me for treating it with kindness’ way.
◞ and by extension… eating however much i want. not only in that “oh, i eat however much i want and don’t gain” (although, yes!!!!), but also that i don’t feel absolutely horrible, horrid and disgusting after eating past 8 o’clock.
◞ excuse my french, but, growing an ass!!!!!! this one gets its own fanfare because how does one thrive off a diet of carbs, croissants, burritos, and soy milk lattes AND still develop the physics-defying, gravity-defying, renaissance sculpture of a derrière??? the laws of biology are in shambles. the gym hasn’t seen me in months and it will continue to do so.
◞ my mom’s business POPPING OFF. the celebrities in my little nation are in her dm’s, the business is expanding into so many places, and the success!!!!! it’s only just beginning.
◞ shifting to my fame dr for 20 minutes and meeting timmy t!!!!! one second in my bed, the next in a make up chair. a cameo from hollywood’s favourite brooding poet boy. did he fall in love with me instantly? maybe. was i effortlessly captivating? always. the chemistry? palpable.
◞ cocktails!!! everywhere. i don’t even have to ask my parents anymore, they’re always in my hand at the perfect moment. divine intervention in mixology form.
◞ always being at the right place at the right time. no missed busses, no wrong turns, no long lines, no awkward “why am i here” moments. just perfectly timed entrances like i’m starring in my own movie. I AM the meet-cute.
◞ my mom and dad FINALLY getting along. a historic event. peace treaties (actual contracts) were signed, egos were dissolved, and my mental health got a break it so desperately needed. love this for 9 year old me who was probably getting bpd as everything occurred.
◞ my little safe space (shifttblur, my little prophet oracle shenanigans) taking off. the church of muad’dib is THRIVING. and i’ve gotten so many kewlest friends<3
◞ my hair isn’t as oily anymore. and i DIDN’T EVEN SWITCH PRODUCTS. science is flailing, trichologists are confused, but i’m simply basking in my newfound ability to go days without dry shampoo.
◞ my nose??? smaller? upturned?? nature is quite literally BENDING to my will. my face is sculpting itself to perfection, no consultation necessary.
◞ also!!! my lashes have grown an INSANE amount. falsies who???
◞ my intuition reaching oracle of delphi levels. i don’t even need to second-guess things anymore. if i sense something, it’s FACT. the accuracy? terrifying. my inner knowing? undefeated. the people around me? spooked.
◞ eloquence. this is, lowkey (high-key), the most fortunate thing that had ever happened to me. i am patiently sitting and waiting for that 100% on my essays.
◞ me and my dad finally getting along. not in a dramatic, movie-moment way, just in the little things. the conversations that didn’t feel forced. the jokes that actually landed. the quiet understanding that we’re both trying, in our own ways.
◞ money. just… money. not in a lottery-winning way, but in a “somehow, i always have enough” way. in a “random discounts appear when i need them” way. in a “people keep handing me little opportunities” way. a quiet, steady flow.
◞ my painting and drawing skills getting better without me even noticing. one day, i just looked at something i made and thought, wait….when did i get this good? and that was a nice feeling.
ib the amazing @solanasreality who i got the idea from !!
#shifting#reality shifting#shifting motivation#loassblog#loassumption#loablr#loa tumblr#loa success#loa blog#law of assumption#law of manifestation#law of attraction#law of affirmation#emma manifests#manifesting#instant manifestation#master manifestor#shiftingrealities#shifting blog#shifting consciousness#affirm and persist#reality shift#desired reality#realityshifting#manifestation#how to manifest#shifting community#desired life#desired self#desired appearance
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10 things for 10(ish) people you'd like to know better
thanks @se7entyrell for the tag!
last song: spooky by dusty springfield (bc i'm on my 60s vibes shit — again)
favourite colour: any shade of blue!
last book: divine rivals, by rebeca ross (loved it! it's been a minute since i've read a book front to cover so fast)
last film: woman of the hour
last tv show: the consultant
sweet/savoury/spicy: savoury for food, bitter for drinks!
relationship status: single. forever.
last thing i googled: xo kitty season 2 date
current obsession: i've been watching any romcom that is recommended to me, old or new, good or trash.
looking forward to: start my new job, write a few more chapters for death defying acts and the tortured firefighters department, go out with my friends to celebrate
tagging: @munsonsreputation @live-love-be-unique
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Freedom far away
It's been burning my brain ever since the finale of Agatha All Along.
This blog isn't for the writing purpose but I'm bending my own rule in the name of Agatha XD. I might upload one more if I can organise my imagination on these two
Fem Reader X Agatha X Rio
You were the firstborn of an esteemed aristocratic house, a position that brought both privilege and a constant, heavy gaze upon you. Eyes followed every room you entered and every event you attended. Though the title of heir would never be yours solely because you were a lady, it never seemed to matter to those around you. They treated you as if the future of the house rested upon your shoulders. The elders murmured of marriage alliances with royalty or influential families, whispering that your union could change the fate of your house. Other noble families saw you as a formidable rival, watching closely, ever-ready to seize on the slightest misstep, to turn it into fodder for gossip and criticism.
But you despised the role thrust upon you. While others revered the traditions, the traditional rules and propriety that dictated your every action, you only saw them as chains, binding you to a life scripted long before you were born. You longed to live on your terms, laugh freely, speak without calculation, and defy the mould others sought to press you into. You knew well that the path to freedom would not be simple—but that only made the dream burn brighter.
Besides, you possessed a power that would bring fear and scorn if anyone found out. In a world so bound by tradition and superstition, it was a power that might get you branded as a freak or, worse, stoned to death. You knew the origin of this ability, even if the elders dared not mention it. One of your ancestors had been a shaman, a fact buried under layers of silence and shame. Shamans were both revered and despised—consulted in times of desperation, yet viewed with suspicion and disdain due to their mysterious power.
Only your parents and siblings knew of your gift; not even the current lord of the household, your grandfather, had any inkling. You could command animals, bending them to your will. It had always been that way. At first, it simply seemed that animals were drawn to you. Birds would land beside you without fear, perching on your shoulder or finger. Dogs and cats would flock around you whenever you went outside, rolling onto their backs, begging for your touch. When an agitated horse reared at the central market, a single whisper from you could calm it. It was a charming quirk to everyone else—a testament to your vibrant, gentle nature. But you knew better. This wasn’t mere kindness; it was a hidden power that connected you to the earth's creatures in a way no one else could understand.
But then, it did not matter.
You sighed deeply, resting your chin on your hand. If anyone from the household saw you like this, they would scold you, demanding you act like a noble lady and not lounge on the ground like some street thug in your fine dress. The thought made you scoff.
Earlier, you had overheard a conversation between your grandfather and parents about a potential marriage proposal, and as soon as the word "marriage" came up, you’d bolted from the house. You ignored the calls of your servants and dashed out, uncaring of the stares you attracted along the way.
You kept running, heading toward the edge of the city to the well at the foot of the mountain, next to an ancient willow tree. It was a public place but one where you felt most free. Hardly anyone came here, as it was too remote, and many were scared in case of tigers coming down from the mountain. There was another well closer to the city centre where people preferred gathering and drinking water. Besides, this well was near a shaman’s house, marked by the colourful ribbons tied to the trees nearby—a symbol of ritual and mysticism that kept most people away.
You savoured the solitude of this place, where you could escape the eyes and expectations of others, if only for a moment. Then, you saw them; a couple approaching the well where you sat. The man was wearing a garment in a shade between blue and green, a black fan flicking in his right hand as he spoke. The woman beside him was clad in a dignified violet and purple dress, her posture commanding, though her face was drawn into a faint scowl. They seemed to be in a heated exchange—not quite arguing, but the woman was rolling her eyes while the man chuckled, clearly amused by whatever they were discussing.
As they came closer, a realisation struck you. The man's voice… it was softer, lighter than you had expected, almost too gentle to belong to an adult man. In fact, there was something subtly feminine about him, something that made you look again. He moved with an effortless grace, and though his features held a certain softness.
You couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity. Strangers rarely ventured to this remote spot—especially not ones with the dignified grace this pair exuded. As they noticed you, the man gave a slight nod, acknowledging your presence, while the woman raised a single eyebrow, appraising you with an air of amusement. Despite your longing for freedom, the ingrained teachings of etiquette tugged at you, urging you to be polite. You rose to your feet as gracefully as you could manage, offering them a courteous greeting. The man’s dark brown eyes were warm, but behind their softness, you saw a glint of sharp intelligence and a touch of mischief, as though he saw through everything around him. Then, your gaze fell upon the woman. Her eyes—a striking shade of blue—were unlike any you had seen before, deep and captivating, like the ocean’s endless expanse. You found yourself unable to look away, entranced by their beauty. Noticing your gaze, she offered you a small, knowing smile, soft yet tinged with a subtle seductiveness that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Why would a noble lady be here without anyone to protect you?" the man asked, his gaze drifting over the surrounding deep mountains looming over them.
Hearing his voice so clearly, you began to suspect the man was, in fact, a woman. Her voice was captivating, with a rich, melodic quality, yet there was a subtle softness in her frame—a faint curve at her chest that might go unnoticed by most.
"I always come here," you touched your wrist. "Whenever I feel the need of an escape." You leaned back against the well, feeling the cool stone pressing into your back, grounding you.
The woman exchanged a look with her companion before shifting closer and leaning against the well wall beside you. She gave you a mischievous smile. "Wanna talk about it, doll?"
"I don't even know you," you replied cautiously, sizing them up.
Both exuded a quiet authority, an unmistakable presence. It was obvious they were not ordinary travellers—they bore the poise and refinement of nobility. But were they friends or potential adversaries?
The woman in men’s clothing smiled, her eyes briefly darkening as a cloud cast a fleeting shadow over the sun.
“I’m Rio,” she said, her voice lilting like a soft melody as if each syllable held a secret. Her gaze slid toward the woman standing beside you.
“I’m Agatha,” came the whispered reply, the words warm and close, her fingers grazing yours, sending a shiver of electricity down your spine.
"Rio, Agatha," you murmured, savouring the unfamiliar rhythm of their names as they lingered on your tongue.
This was how you met them, how they welcomed you into their embrace. And it was at this moment that your status as a noble began to crumble, all in the name of seeking freedom. To be with them.
Part A | Part B | Part C&D | Part E | Part F | Part G | Part H | Part I&J | Part K | Part L | Part M | Part N | Part O&P | Part Q | Part ? | Epilogue
#agatha#agatha harkness x rio vidal#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness#rio vidal#agatha x rio
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Best Leadership Keynote Speakers
The best leadership keynote speakers are transformational influencers, inspiring, engaging, and motivating people to act. They possess the ability to make complex ideas simple and communicate them in an easily relatable manner. Their experience, expertise, and passion come together as they challenge traditional thinking, present actionable strategies, and empower people and teams to excel. Leadership in business, innovation, and personal development will be the themes of the most captivating stories of storytelling, wisdom, and charisma. Their messages remain for a long time after the event. A great leadership speaker fosters an atmosphere of growth where meaningful change, leading to the success of both individual and organizational interests, occurs.
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Largest Blockchain Development Company in the UK & United States
Blockchain Development Company technology has revolutionised various industries, offering unprecedented transparency, security, and decentralisation. As its potential continues to grow, businesses worldwide are Blockchain Development Company increasingly recognizing the value of implementing Blockchain Development Company solutions. Consequently, the demand for skilled Blockchain Development Company development companies has soared.we will explore the largest in the UK, India, and the United States.
An Explanation of Blockchain Development Company Technology
Blockchain Development Company technology is like that one friend who never forgets anything and can’t be fooled. It’s a decentralised digital ledger that records transactions across multiple computers. Each transaction is grouped into blocks and added to a chain, creating a permanent and transparent record. It’s like a high-tech version of your childhood diary — except it’s secure, tamper-proof, and can be accessed by authorised users.
The Growing Significance of Blockchain Development Company Development
In today’s world, where trust is as scarce as a parking space in a crowded city, Blockchain Development Company development is gaining immense significance. It has the potential to revolutionise industries like finance, healthcare, supply chain management, and more. Blockchain Development brings transparency, security, and efficiency to transactions, eliminating the need for intermediaries. It’s like having a personal bodyguard for your data, ensuring that it stays safe and untainted.
Overview of the Custom Blockchain Development Company Industry in the UK, India, and the United States
The Blockchain Development Company industry is like a wild roller coaster ride, full of ups and downs. In the UK, India, and the United States, it’s thriving with innovative startups, government initiatives, and widespread adoption. Companies across various sectors are exploring Custom Blockchain Development Company solutions, fueling the growth of the industry.
Key Players in the UK Blockchain Development Company Sector
When it comes to Blockchain Development Company development, the UK has some impressive players. Companies like Gratix technologies (they know who they are) are leading the way with their expertise and innovative solutions. These companies are building Blockchain Development applications for finance, healthcare, and even the ever-popular NFTs.
Key Players in the Indian Blockchain Development Company Sector
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Out of the Loop
summary: eddie went home with someone after prom, and gareth is determined to figure out who it was.
pairing: eddie munson x dwm!reader word count: 11k warnings: language, new relationship, eddie's girlfriend is gareth's arch nemesis, silly childhood rivalries, eddie being happy and stupidly in love, jason being an overprotective ass, chrissy being an adorable little cupcake, the reader is chrissy's best friend, the unnamed freak is named grant in this series
series masterpost | series playlist | fanfiction masterlist
On Monday morning, Gareth peddled to school like a man on a mission.
Nothing was getting in his way today, not his mother, who had accidentally washed his Hellfire Club shirt with all his little sister’s dance clothes,
“You know what, honey, I think it looks better this way…”
not his sister, who had been hogging the bathroom all morning because she couldn’t get her hair right,
“Look, you don’t understand the pressure I’m under right now. Becca Singer is finalizing her birthday party guest list today. I have to look my best if I wanna make the cut.”
not the weatherman, who was painfully misinformed when he called for clear, sunny skies today…
and certainly not the piece of crap Chevy that just cut him off in the middle of the crosswalk.
Gareth swerved out of the way and kept on peddling. The rain pelted his face in a spray of ice-cold bullets.
Behind him, the driver yelled, “Hey, watch where you’re going, you little shit!”
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Because Gareth was sitting on a goldmine of information right now. It was truly the scoop of the century. Eddie Munson—that’s right, Eddie “the Freak” Munson—had gone home with somebody after the senior prom.
Who was this mysterious (not to mention incredibly lucky) woman? A curious cheerleader desperate to defy her clique? A rich girl trying to piss off her dad? A shy bookworm who wanted to act out the plot of her favorite romance novel? Who? Who? Gareth’s head was spinning! The question hungrily devoured the rest of his weekend (something Gareth wasn’t too proud to admit, of course, but hey, Sundays were always uneventful days for him). He had to get to school quickly and consult his most trusted sources.
He found Jeff and Grant sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria. Grant was eating the school’s hot breakfast while Jeff sat with his head in his hands, lamenting the sorry state of his love life.
“Tara’s still not talking to me. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna dump me for Patrick McKinney.”
Grant put down his fork. “Wait, you two were dating?”
“No…” Jeff heaved a quiet sigh. “But if we were, she’d definitely dump me for Patrick.”
Grant frowned, sympathetic yet envious of his friend’s plight. “Man, I wish Meg would stop talking to me. She had me on the phone all night yesterday. I think she wants me to be her boyfriend or something.” Grant cringed at the thought. He didn’t have the strength to put up with her. He’d barely survived prom.
“You don’t like her?” Jeff asked.
“Not really,” Grant answered. “I mean, yeah, she’s pretty and all, but as soon as she starts talking—”
Gareth slammed a wrinkled piece of notebook paper onto the table. The loud bang echoed through the entire cafeteria, making a few students gasp and flinch in their chairs. Jeff and Grant didn’t move in the slightest. This was typical Monday morning behavior for Gareth.
“What’s with the pink shirt?” Grant asked, unfazed.
“Doesn’t matter,” Gareth said. They had more pressing matters to discuss. He sat down and folded his hands in front of him, his blue eyes clear and focused. He wasted no time getting straight to the point: “Who’d Eddie go home with after prom?”
Jeff and Grant exchanged a subtle, secret glance.
“How do you know Eddie went home with someone after prom?” Jeff asked.
“Because I called him that night.”
“Why’d you call him?”
“Because I’m a good friend, unlike some people.” Nobody had called him asking how his night went. Gareth sat home alone on Saturday night, eating popcorn and watching old sci-fi movies in his basement, while the rest of his friends had a blast at prom. It wasn’t fair. “I wanted to check in on him because I figured he might be a little depressed after getting rejected by Chrissy. Because let’s be honest here, there was no way that Chrissy was ever gonna dance with him. You all agree with me, right? I’m not just being a dick here. Like, yeah, I know Eddie’s riding high right now because he thinks this year is his year and everything, but… yeah, he was aiming a bit too high with that goal.”
“Can you get to the point, please?” Grant said. “My breakfast is getting cold.”
“Well, multitask, man!” Gareth grabbed Grant’s fork and threw it back onto his tray. “What, you can’t listen and eat at the same time?”
Grant rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast. Gareth carried on with his story:
“So anyway, when I called him on Saturday, I expected him to sound all mopey and depressed, but he wasn’t. Yeah, Eddie wasn’t depressed at all. In fact, he sounded oddly… happy, but also a little bit distracted. You guys see where I’m going with this, right?”
“I hate that I do,” Grant said, struggling to enjoy his food.
“Well, that’s when I started getting suspicious. See, I could tell I didn’t have his full attention, and that’s just so unlike Eddie because he’s normally really good at maintaining proper phone etiquette. Weird, right? So then I got curious and I started listening, and… and I can’t be sure, but I think I heard a girl talking in the background.”
“Maybe it was just the TV,” Grant said.
Gareth shook his head. “No way… I know the difference between a TV voice and a live human voice. Someone was definitely with him.”
“Well, did you recognize the voice?” Jeff asked.
“No, I couldn’t hear well enough.”
Grant’s eyes narrowed. “And yet you’re sure it wasn’t the TV…”
“Oh come on, it wasn’t the TV, you guys. Wake up and smell the coffee! Eddie brought a girl to his house. He brought a girl to his house. She was with him in the room while he was on the phone with me. I could hear her talking. Then Eddie started acting really weird, said he had to go, and rushed me off the phone.”
“Gross,” Grant muttered, sickened. “Yeah, these are details I did not need.”
Gareth’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. “Wait, do you guys think he slept with her?” and that was more than Jeff could handle.
He buried his face in his hands and said, “Please stop. I don’t wanna go to class with these images in my head.”
Grant shrugged. “Maybe it was just a one-night stand.”
Jeff threw him a sharp, side-eyed glare.
“Just saying,” Grant finished, smirking.
“No, I seriously doubt it,” Gareth went on, completely unaware. “Eddie’s not really a one-night stand kinda guy… not by choice, anyway. No, I think this might be the real deal, you guys, ‘cause listen to this: I went to go see him yesterday. Eddie wasn’t home.”
“So?”
“So I think he was with her. I called him last night and asked him where he was all day. He said he was out running errands.” Gareth scrunched up his face at that, doubtful. “Since when does Eddie run errands? So I said, ‘What sort of errands were you running?’ He said he had to swing by the drugstore. I said, ‘Well, what did you need at the drugstore?’ but he wouldn’t answer that. Yeah, he was being awfully mum.”
“Mum?” Jeff repeated to himself, mystified by his friend’s bizarre word choice.
Grant said, “He was probably annoyed that you were digging around in his business. I know I would be.”
“Oh yeah, he was definitely getting annoyed,” Gareth said. “Then he cut the conversation short and told me he was stepping out for the night. That’s when I knew this was serious. Eddie doesn’t just ‘step out’ on a Sunday night. He hardly goes out any night. If he’s not with us, he’s sitting at home and playing songs on his guitar. Yeah, he was definitely with her last night.”
Grant sighed, hoping they’d finally reached the end of this long-winded story. “Well, I guess you cracked the case then, Gareth.”
“But that’s just it, I haven’t!” Gareth said. Grant let out an exhausted moan. “I still don’t know who this girl is. You guys swear you didn’t see Eddie go home with anybody after prom?”
Another secret glance.
“Nope,” Jeff said. “I didn’t see him go home with anyone that night.”
Gareth nodded, disappointed but not yet defeated. “Yeah, I thought you might say that. That’s why I made this.”
He gestured toward the piece of paper on the table. Jeff picked it up and read it over. Then he passed it to Grant so he could do the same.
“Okay, what exactly am I looking at here?” Grant asked.
“It’s a list of suspects,” Gareth said, a proud smile on his face. “Yeah, last night I compiled a list of every girl I’ve ever seen Eddie interact with at school, and then this morning I whittled that list down to what I think are the most likely suspects.”
“Not a very long list,” Jeff said.
“Really?” said Grant. “I was gonna say it’s too long.”
They shared a little chuckle over that. Gareth glowered at them, unamused. He didn’t appreciate them making little jabs about their Dungeon Master’s love life, stagnant as it was.
“You know,” Grant began with ominous deliberation, “I can’t help but notice there’s a name missing from this list.”
Gareth's head snapped back in surprise. “Who?”
“You know who,” Grant said. Beside him, Jeff was holding in a grin.
A disturbing chill crept up Gareth's spine. Then—
BAM!
Your name cracked down from above like a fiendish lightning bolt, striking Gareth and making all the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. For a second, he could see your name so clearly. It loomed before him, ugly and terrible, festering with pus and crawling with maggots, getting pecked savagely by vultures and other scavengers. It made him retch with disgust.
“Oh, very funny…”
“Hey, I’m just saying,” Grant said, “there’s no denying that she’s a likely suspect.”
“In fact,” Jeff continued, “some might say she’s the most likely suspect.”
“Yeah, maybe back in middle school,” Gareth said, “but Eddie hasn’t so much as looked at her in years.”
Except for that one time, he thought, remembering the mournful look on his friend’s face that day.
They were all eating lunch when your laughter suddenly sprang up from the other side of the cafeteria, obnoxious and shrill. Eddie glanced your way and his eyes darkened with such hollow sadness. It was as if someone had died.
But that didn’t mean anything, Gareth decided, so he shoved the memory away.
“All right, look, I’ll admit we lost him briefly for that one summer. I dunno how she did it, but somehow she got her claws in him real deep and he was completely under her spell. I won’t deny that. But then Eddie woke up and saw her for what she really is—an ugly green hag! At first, she appears as this beautiful, enchanting woman, but underneath that guise, she’s a wretched old witch who thrives on torment. Yeah, Eddie got over her a long time ago,” and Gareth refused to waste another thought on it.
He snatched the paper from Grant and laid it out in front of him. “Now, here’s what I’m thinking: if we split this up among the three of us, we can get through this list by lunch and then confront Eddie with our findings.”
“Yeah, we’re not doing that,” Grant said.
Gareth frowned. “Why not?”
“Because we already know who it is.”
Gareth’s eyes widened in surprised anger. “I KNEW IT! I FUCKING KNEW IT! I knew you two were messing with me this whole time. Sitting there with your smug little faces. Making your little jokes. You know what, screw you guys, I don’t even want your help anymore.”
He stuffed the paper back into his bag, climbed to his feet, and stomped off.
Over his shoulder, Jeff said, “Shoulda gone to prom, man.”
Gareth paused, dejected. “Well, no one would go with me…” He pushed through the double doors and was gone.
Afterward, Grant picked up his milk carton and took a few slow slips.
“You know what,” he said thoughtfully, “Gareth should’ve asked Y/N to prom.”
Jeff chuckled to himself. “Well, she did need a date… Shit, should we have just told him?”
“No,” Grant said. “No, this is something Gareth needs to see with his own eyes.”
Now Gareth, his resolve reignited and burning brighter than ever, was prowling the senior locker area with his suspect list in hand.
Let them keep their secrets, he thought. I don’t need their help. A lot of help they would’ve been, anyway. Yeah, I can solve this mystery all on my own.
And he would.
Gareth was a fantastic investigator, you see. He could win a game of Guess Who? in less than five turns and had a lifetime record of fifty-three wins and only fifteen losses (such losses were unavoidable when you drew an easily guessable character like Anita. Ugh, Anita… with those rosy cheeks and annoying blonde pigtails. His little sister beat him in only two moves after that unlucky draw). Now Gareth would apply those same deductive reasoning skills to this. Ask careful, complex questions. Gather information. Cross those ladies off one by one.
There was only one problem: the girls at Hawkins High weren’t exactly forthcoming about their personal lives, especially when it involved Eddie Munson. In fact, most girls denied ever having spoken to the guy.
Claire Dunnock, the most recent inductee into the popular clique, was being especially difficult.
Her blue eyes shifted back and forth anxiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and then leaned forward to make sure none of her new friends were eavesdropping. Claire had to be very careful. One misstep and she would slide all the way back down the social ladder. She couldn’t afford to let that happen.
Gareth sensed her unease. “Hey, relax,” he told her, “I’m not here to ruin your reputation, okay? This conversation stays between us. You have my word.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Claire said. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak.”
“Hey, that freak is my best friend,” Gareth said. “And you and I both know that’s not true, Claire. I saw you get into his van that one—”
Claire seized him by the arm and hissed, “Shut up!” Her eyes blazed with fearful, self-protective rage. “Look, that was a year ago, okay? I was a stupid junior who didn’t know any better. Eddie and I had a class together. I guess I got a little curious, but that’s it. We hung out once and I never spoke to him again.” Loosening her grip, she said, “Besides, he was nothing but a big disappointment, anyway.”
Anger flared in Gareth’s chest. “All right, that's it. I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you slander my friend.”
“It’s not slander if it’s true,” Claire said.
Gareth didn’t know how to respond to that.
“Look, just answer my question, okay? Did you go home with Eddie after prom or not?”
“Of course not,” Claire answered, practically cackling at the thought.
(Why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)
“I went to prom with my boyfriend. I was with him all night. Ask anyone.” Claire swung her locker door closed, put her hand on her hip, and raised her eyebrows impatiently. “Are we done now?” She walked off to join the rest of her friends.
Gareth glared at her back, his insides boiling with indignation and righteous fury.
You got curious and Eddie got his heart broken. Again.
He crossed out Claire’s name with his pen.
Two suspects down. Eight more to go.
He tucked his pen behind his ear, turned, and suddenly the hallway froze over!
Okay, that didn’t actually happen, but a bitter wind did blow. Gareth felt it on his face as soon as he saw you step out from around the corner.
Coincidence?
Doubtful.
You were wearing blue jeans and a Fleetwood Mac shirt. Yeah, you would like Fleetwood Mac, Gareth thought, scoffing. As usual, you were walking side by side with Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend since elementary school. She was smiling and laughing at one of your jokes. Laughing out of politeness, probably. Why you two were friends, Gareth would never know. Chrissy was sweet like cotton candy and you were so… so…
(evil, pure evil)
rotten to the core, like moldy fruit.
“I swear,” you said with a groan, “it’ll be weeks before your mom lets me into the house again. God, she’s such a prude. How was I supposed to know she was gonna invite the whole family over for Sunday brunch? At least I was dressed for the occasion.”
Chrissy looked at you in baffled amusement. “You were still wearing your prom dress.”
“And it was a very nice prom dress. Your grandma even complimented it. She said it made me look like Madonna.” You weren’t too thrilled about that comparison, but who were you to pass up a free compliment? “Now your mom, on the other hand… man, if looks could kill… I probably would’ve choked on one of those blueberry scones she was serving, which were a tad overbaked if I’m being honest.”
Chrissy went to her locker and fiddled with the padlock for a second before opening it. You stood patiently beside her, the wall clock barely within view.
It was a quarter past eight, you noted with a frown. Was Eddie here already or…?
While hanging up her pink backpack, Chrissy said, “Yeah, she definitely had some colorful words to describe you last night.”
You turned your attention back to her. “Your mom called me a slut, didn’t she?”
Chrissy didn’t answer at first. She was busy unloading her homework. While she was doing that, one of her fellow cheerleaders snuck up behind her, tapped her on the shoulder, and gave a cheerful, heartfelt hello. Chrissy hugged her and asked how her weekend was. The two chatted casually for a minute and then the girl went on her way. Never so much as glanced at you.
“Umm, I believe she used the word harlot,” Chrissy said to you afterward.
“Oh, she got biblical, huh?” Great, you thought, as if that woman didn’t despise you enough already. “You know, I don’t understand your mom. First I’m too fat to be your friend. Now I’m too much of a slut. That lady needs to pick a lane and stay in it… and then drive herself right off a cliff.”
Chrissy threw you a friendly glare.
“Just kidding,” you said. “You know I love your mom. She keeps me grounded. Without her, I might develop a healthy self-esteem, and we all know how dangerous that is. Yeah, that might lead to confidence and success… perhaps even lifelong happiness.”
Ignoring you (or pretending to), Chrissy started digging through her backpack again. “Dammit,” she said under her breath, “I think I left my pencil case at home.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Jason has a pencil for you.” You smiled inwardly—a willful, wicked smile. “Then again…”
Chrissy pushed her locker closed, grabbed both your hands, backed you up against the lockers, and brought her face really close to yours. “Shut up,” she whispered in half-hearted anger, a rosy blush blooming on the apples of her cheeks.
You took one look at her and busted out laughing. Chrissy started laughing, too.
“I hate you so much,” she said, and released you.
“I know,” you replied affectionately. “But see, this is why the whole situation with your mom is so funny to me. I’m the one who’s still a virgin, yet somehow it’s me who gets labeled the…”
You spotted a familiar face down the hall.
“Gareth?” You leaned toward him, squinting. “What are you doing in the senior locker area?”
The sound of your voice made him flinch. “Nothing,” he said, acting strangely defensive for some reason.
That’s when you noticed the piece of paper in his hand. You gestured toward it with your chin and said, “What’s that you got there? Is that a love letter? You finally asking someone out on a date? Will you go out with me? Check yes or no. Who’s the lucky lady? Wait, aren’t you a little young to be dating?”
Gareth hid the paper behind his back and glared at you. “We’re the same age.”
“And yet I’m a senior and you’re a junior. Hmm, how did that happen?” You tipped your head and smiled at him. “You’ve got company, by the way.”
“Huh?” Gareth stepped back and—
A hand landed on his shoulder, closed around his flannel shirt, and spun him around. Gareth jumped back, swallowing a scream. He was now standing nose to chest with Ben Jabruski, outside linebacker and two-time defensive player of the year. Eric Kordell stood beside him, smaller but no less intimidating. His brown eyes gleamed with feral, territorial aggression.
“Get outta here, freak,” Eric said.
Gareth squared up to him, unafraid. “Last time I checked this was a free country.” He wrenched his shirt out of Ben’s grip, careful not to tear his favorite flannel. It was a Christmas gift from his mother.
While he was distracted, Eric reached out and ripped the paper out of Gareth’s hand.
“Hey, give that back!”
“What’s this?” Eric asked. He opened the paper and studied it for a minute. His expression went from amused to curious to downright furious. He crushed the list in his fist. “Why’s my girlfriend on here?”
“Oh…” Panic shot up Gareth’s spine. He took a step back and let loose a nervous chuckle. “Oh, you must be Claire’s boyfriend. You know, I heard you two had a lovely time at prom.”
He turned on his heel and took off running down the hallway.
“Bye, Gareth!” you said, fluttering your fingers as he passed. Then you looked back at Chrissy with a smile. “God, I love that kid…”
You went to your locker after that, ignoring all the busy little voices, the occasional odd glance and stifled giggle you received from the other students. Chrissy followed with her first-period textbook cradled in her arms.
“Just ignore them,” she told you.
“I already am,” you said… but then you saw Sarah, Sally, and Stacy huddled around Stacy’s locker. Talking about their hair. Talking about their clothes. Stirring their black cauldron of boiling bones and animal guts. Sarah looked at you, whispered something to Sally, who passed the same message on to Stacy, and all three of them tittered gleefully at your expense.
“Just ignore them,” Chrissy said.
“I will,” you said, but first—
You whipped around and burst out: “So which one of you got knocked up after prom? My money’s on you, Stacy.”
Chrissy, dismayed but secretly delighted, tugged gently on your right elbow. Before going with her, you tossed Satan’s mistress (AKA Stacy Raab) a snide little wink. Stacy rolled her eyes in disgust.
“Stop it,” Chrissy said.
“They started it.”
“I know… but stop it. You’re better than that.”
At the end of the hallway, you spotted Chance Gallagher standing in front of his open locker, wearing the same green letterman jacket that he’d worn when he asked you to prom six weeks ago. Chance closed his locker and caught your eye for a moment. Then he gave you a small, apologetic smile.
What was he apologizing for? For asking you to prom, getting your hopes up, and then humiliating you in front of the entire senior class? You weren’t sorry he did it. In fact, you were glad he did it. Yeah, you wanted to go up to him, shake his hand, and thank him for being such a spineless little worm. If he were a decent guy, your night might have gone differently, and you were quite pleased with how your night went. So thank you, Chance. Thank you for being a complete scumbag. Maybe I should write him a thank-you note.
Smiling, you turned back around. As you did, you stole another quick glance at the clock on the wall.
Eight-nineteen…
You sighed.
… and now eight-twenty.
“He’s running late, huh?” Chrissy said. You looked her way and she flashed you a sweet, teasing smile. “I know you’re waiting for him.”
A small flush of heat tickled your cheeks, threatening to set your whole face on fire. Resisting it, you grabbed your padlock and started spinning the dial: three turns to the right, one full turn to the left, another quick turn to the right, and
“Are you nervous about seeing him?”
you missed the last number and had to start all over again.
“Kind of,” you admitted. “Is that weird?”
Chrissy shook her head, her smile growing brighter and brighter. “Nope, it’s totally normal and absolutely adorable.” Giggling, she hugged her book tightly to her chest. If her hands were free, she probably would have hugged you instead. “I’m so happy for you. I really, really am. I swear, I feel like my heart’s about to burst right now.”
“Well, you should probably see a doctor about that.”
Chrissy stuck her tongue out at you. You did it right back, popped off your lock, and pulled on the handle. The locker door swung outward, squeaking on its hinges, and almost smacked Chrissy in the face. “Hey!” she said, laughing. She stepped back, skipped around you, and planted herself comfortably on your left side.
“So did you see him last night?” she asked, practically beaming.
“Nope.” You slipped off your messenger bag and hung it on the hook.
Chrissy squinted at you suspiciously. “Why do I feel like you’re lying right now?”
“I’m not lying,” you told her, only to be betrayed by your blushing face. “I didn’t see him last night… technically it was this morning.”
Twelve-o-two, to be exact. That’s when you saw the headlights flashing through your bedroom window blinds.
“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.
“What? He just stopped by to say goodnight.” You smiled softly to yourself. “It was kind of romantic, actually.”
“Uh-huh,” Chrissy said, laughing at you. “And how long did you two say goodnight?”
“Only for an hour… and a half.”
It was raining last night. You couldn’t invite Eddie into the house, so you two hung out in his van for a while. A very long while. W.A.S.P. was playing on the stereo. Eddie had found the cassette tape while cleaning out his van that afternoon. He was very proud of this accomplishment. It was adorable. He had you listen to a few of his favorite songs, asked you about your day, told you about his, and during “Cries In the Night,” he leaned over the center console and kissed you. Everything after that was a bit of a blur. The last thing you remembered was the horn blaring. You had accidentally pressed it with your elbow.
“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.
“Stop saying, ‘Oh my god.’ You sound like my mom.”
She had said the exact same thing after confronting you about it in the kitchen this morning. Turns out, the car horn had woken her up. Then she caught you creeping back inside through the front door. It was an awkward breakfast, to say the least.
Chrissy poked your shoulder playfully. “That’s how it starts, you know. Late-night visits. Long, drawn-out goodbyes. You two are gonna be inseparable this summer.” She breathed a long, lovesick sigh. “Jason and I used to be like that.”
“You’re still like that.”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling.
“Speaking of…” You saw Jason Carver coming down the hallway, his pants ironed and creased, white collared shirt tucked in, a brand-new Rolex glinting on his left wrist (an early graduation present from his father, apparently). He looked like a Ralph Lauren catalog model. “Is it weird that I’m picturing him naked right now?”
Chrissy hid her face in embarrassment. “I swear to God, if you say anything…”
“What am I gonna say to him? ‘Thank you for deflowering my best friend’? ‘I heard your penis is rather pleasing��? I don’t wanna talk to him about that. I don’t even wanna think about that.”
Prior to this weekend, you couldn’t even imagine Jason Carver having genitals. You always figured he was like a Ken doll down there. Nothing but smooth plastic.
Chrissy looked at you, mortified. “Why do I tell you anything?”
“I have no idea,” you said. Then you checked the clock again.
Eight twenty-three.
Where the hell’s Eddie? you wondered, starting to get a little worried.
Jason’s arrival reclaimed your attention.
“Hey, guys,” he said in that smooth drawl that made all the girls swoon.
You expected to find him standing with his million-dollar smile, but he wasn’t. No, today Jason seemed different—humble, approachable, perhaps even a little shy. It was as if he’d reverted back to his ten-year-old self. Little Jason Carver, who could barely dribble a basketball. The boy who stammered when he introduced himself to the rest of the class. The boy who sat down next to you, smiled, and said he liked the character on your favorite shirt. The boy who talked to you every day. Encouraged you. Defended you. The boy you caught staring at your best friend way too many times to be a coincidence.
Then you looked at Chrissy and she seemed younger, too. A blushing, fidgeting ten-year-old who always forgot to stand up straight. She got so excited when Jason offered to walk her home from school. He even carried my books!
Back then, your happiness for them had been counterfeit, complicated, but not anymore. Yeah, now you could say you were genuinely happy for both of them.
This was still awkward as hell, though.
“Hey, Chrissy needs to borrow a pencil,” you blurted out, breaking their amorous trance.
A soft pink flush rose to Jason’s cheeks. “What?”
“Just ignore her,” Chrissy said, struggling to keep a straight face.
Meanwhile, you punched Jason on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t forget about our deal, buddy.”
“I haven’t,” he told you. “I’ll buy your lunch, as promised. It’s the least I can do.”
“What if I want two lunches? And a whole plate of cookies?”
“Then I guess I’m buying you two lunches and a whole plate of cookies.”
Jason smiled at you… but then his demeanor changed, hardening like armor.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
You blinked at him. “Am I okay?” you repeated slowly, a little taken aback. “Well, I did wake up with a strange tattoo on my wrist. It’s like a crucifix, except it’s upside-down. Weird… Also, I can’t be sure, but I think I might be dealing with a Rosemary’s Baby scenario. Yeah, I’m definitely gonna be giving birth to the Antichrist in about nine months. Buy something black.”
Jason’s eyes widened in confused horror.
“Oh my god, I’m kidding!” you said. “Eddie was a complete gentleman. He even asked for permission before he impregnated me with his hellseed. Naturally, I gave him the green light because… well, have you seen his face? It’s kinda perfect.”
Chrissy put her hand over her mouth and giggled. Jason didn’t appreciate your joke.
“Come on, be serious.”
“I am being serious. Believe it or not, I actually find him insanely attractive. He’s like a discount version of Eddie Van Halen, and I can’t afford the real thing, so…”
“So you actually slept with him?” Jason sounded disappointed and ashamed. He reminded you of your father.
No, worse than your father.
“Well, no, I was kidding about that. I mean, I did sleep with him, but not in the way you’re assuming. And are you seriously gonna judge me for having sex? It’s been a while since I’ve been to church, but I’m pretty sure the bible condemns hypocrisy. You might wanna reread those sections. I think you’ll find them very enlightening.”
Jason ground his jaw in irritation. “Stop making jokes.”
“I don’t want to,” you said finally, your voice breaking, “because then I’m just gonna get really, really mad like I’m doing right now, and I don’t wanna be mad at you, Jason. I was having a really good morning until you showed up.”
By now, Chrissy had stopped laughing. Her shoulders drooped and she looked at you with a sick, sorry expression.
Jason said, “Look, I just think you’re undervaluing yourself, okay? You can do so much better than that—”
“Oh, please don’t do that. Don’t try to talk to me like you’re my friend.”
“I am your friend.”
“Then be my friend, Jason. Stop trying to ruin my happiness!”
The school bell dinged and students began making their way to class. Jason went, too. Didn’t even bother saying goodbye. Chrissy told you not to worry about him. “Jason’ll come around eventually.” Then she smiled, waved goodbye, and ran to catch up with him.
You weren’t half as optimistic as she was.
This is gonna be a huge problem, isn’t it?
You groaned, dreading it.
Behind you, another wave of students came rushing down the hallway. Brittany Wirth was among them. You knew because you could hear her shrill voice piercing through the dull chatter around her. She was ranting about prom, complaining about the flowers, complaining about the food, about the music, about—
“YOU!”
You flinched and turned around, thinking she was talking to you.
What you saw made your eyes light up with glee. Brittany Wirth had Eddie Munson pinned up against the lockers, and she was jabbing him in the chest with her index finger.
“You, sir, are a total asshole! Do you have any idea how hard I worked on that event? I was planning it for months, planning it to perfection, and then YOU had to go and make it all about yourself, as usual.” She stepped back and huffed, exhausted. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
“I’m a little proud of myself,” Eddie replied candidly.
Brittany shot him a deadly glare. “Oh, shut up!” She swept her hair off her shoulder and walked away.
You stopped her as she passed. “You know what, Brittany, all things considered, I thought it was a very successful night.”
Brittany’s jaw dropped and got stuck like that, locked in befuddled rage. Not a single sound came out, but you could tell she was trying to speak. Was this it? Had it finally happened? Did Brittany Wirth actually crack? She worked her lips unsuccessfully for a minute and then closed them again, steaming in her hatred, screaming internally like a boiling teapot. She brushed past you and continued on her way.
Then you heard Eddie approach you.
“Did I really make the night all about me?”
His question made you giggle. “A little bit.” You turned around with a smile, glad to see him, relieved to see him. “I still had a good time, though.”
“Well, that’s all that matters,” Eddie said, but there was something in your eyes that made him frown with concern. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, and blinked that silly little worry away. “Jason’s just being… well, Jason.”
“I take it he doesn’t approve of me.”
“Yeah, you’ve really got him clutching his bible. He thinks you’re gonna drain my blood and sacrifice me to the devil.”
“Really?” Eddie said, his eyes widening in false astonishment. “Well, he just spoiled our next date.”
“Oh, really?” you replied, giggling. “Well, I guess that explains why I’m still a virgin.”
Eddie winced, looked down at his shoes, and grinned bashfully. “Okay, I walked right into that one.”
“Yeah, you did,” you said; and God, it drove you crazy seeing him get so flustered.
Kinda like last night, you thought, startling yourself, and immediately shooed that dangerous thought away. Now was not the time for that, young lady. You still had a full day of school to get through. Somehow.
“You’re late,” you said.
“Yeah, I uh…” Eddie brought his hand to his face and started rubbing it. “I got pulled over for speeding.”
You gasped. “No, you didn’t.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Prove it.”
Eddie pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of his back pocket and handed it to you. You opened it and immediately busted out laughing.
“Oh, wow… going fifty-five in a forty-five.”
“Eh, they went easy on me… I was going at least sixty.”
“Wow…”
“Yeah…” Eddie said, tilting his head. “The one time I’m in a rush to get to school.”
His brown eyes sought yours and settled there for a moment, his lips curling into a tender, captivated smile. You smiled back helplessly, feeling girly, feeling giddy, feeling like you were probably grinning like an idiot right now. Embarrassed, you pressed the paper to your mouth in a vain attempt to hide it. When that didn’t work, you thrust the ticket back into Eddie’s hand and turned away, pretending to pull books from your locker.
You felt along the spines like someone fumbling around in the dark. What class were you going to again? History? English? French?
No, you weren’t even taking French.
You spoke to Eddie in a frazzled voice: “Well, since you’re not in handcuffs right now, I’m assuming they didn’t find anything when they searched your van, huh?”
“Luckily, no…”
“Good thing you cleaned out your van yesterday.”
“Mhm…” Eddie said, his voice seeming much closer than before.
Your roaming fingers slowed, then stopped, sliding all the way down the stack of books. With one more step, his presence had consumed you, making you blind and deaf to everything else, everything except Eddie. You could feel him standing next to you, leaning into you, his left hand outstretched and resting against the locker beside you. His voice sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.
“Find what you’re looking for yet?”
You gazed into his eyes and got lost in them. “… I can’t remember what class I’m going to.”
You laughed at yourself sheepishly, senselessly, and saw Eddie crack a small smile: half amused and half… something else, something that brought you back to last night—that quiet, rainy night. Sitting in the dark and listening to music. Eddie humming softly beside you, drumming his right hand on the steering wheel, watching the tiny droplets race down his windshield. You sitting in your seat nervously. Fidgeting restlessly. Running your fingers over the plastic cassette case on your lap. Pretending to take interest in it while secretly watching Eddie out of the corner of your eye. Waiting for him to kiss you. Hoping he’d kiss you. Catching him staring at you with that smile… the same smile he was giving you now… right before he leaned in and…
“Ahem.”
Another student appeared behind you, tapping her foot impatiently. “Uhh, can I get to my locker, please?”
Eddie drew away from you, embarrassed and a little frustrated, and took two giant steps back.
The girl assumed his place without a word, opened her locker, hung up her backpack, her jacket, grabbed her textbook and notebook, snatched a few pens from her bag, and closed her locker again. Before leaving, she motioned between you and Eddie and said, “So is this like a thing now?”
You caught Eddie’s eye for a second. “Uhh, yes,” you said while he fought back a huge smile.
The girl shook her head as if dizzy. “Weird,” she said, and left.
Afterward, you turned to Eddie with a puzzled frown. “Wait, is it weird that I’m dating you or that you’re dating me? I need to know where I rank in this relationship.”
“Maybe you should ask her.”
“Maybe I will…”
Giggling, you stepped past him, spotted your locker neighbor at the end of the hallway, cupped your hands over your mouth, and shouted, “Hey, Carmen!” but you never got a chance to finish. Eddie had grabbed your hand and dragged you back to him, pulling you into his arms, putting you right where he wanted you, intending to pick up exactly where he left off.
The second bell rang before you could even feel his breath on your lips. Eddie closed his eyes tightly, as if pained.
“I really hate that I have to be in school right now.”
“Me too,” you said, staring up at him, your heart still pounding in your chest. “We should probably get to class.”
Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and held you tighter against him. “Or we could just, y’know, skip first period altogether… since you don’t know where you’re supposed to be anyway.”
He swooped down and placed a few chaste kisses along the side of your head. Blushing, you buried your face into his chest.
“Are you trying to get me to cut class, sir?”
“No, just giving you options.”
“Mhm,” you said, giggling.
While you contemplated his offer, you traced your hand over the button pocket of his denim vest, feeling the fabric, flicking each of his treasured pins one by one: Judas Priest, Accept, Mercyful Fate. You found the W.A.S.P. pin last and focused on it, teasing it with your finger.
“And then what?” you asked, lifting your head to look at him. “We go back to your van and finish what you started last night?”
Eddie’s eyes brightened in surprise. “Finish what you started, if I remember correctly.”
“Was I the one who started it?” You frowned, pretending not to remember.
Meanwhile, your hand had drifted up to the collar of his leather jacket. You nudged it out of the way and started tugging along the neckline of his shirt, revealing a faint pink bruise on the base of his collarbone. Eddie winced as your finger brushed over it. You smiled softly, remembering how his breath hitched when your lips made the first budding mark, how he cursed and moaned while you planted all the others, his hands slipping underneath your shirt and sliding across your skin.
“I may have gotten a little carried away…”
“Yeah, you definitely did,” Eddie said, smiling at you.
“I just really like W.A.S.P.”
“Do you?”
“Mhm…”
Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he laughed. “Well, I still have the tape in my van. We can go listen to it right now if you want.”
You bit your lip hard, unable to answer right away. God dammit, what had you gotten yourself into? You weren’t seriously considering his proposition before, but now…
“Go to class, please.”
Now Ms. Kelley had come out of her office and was sweeping away the last few stragglers, you and Eddie included.
“I know we’re all a little sluggish this morning, but let’s start this week off strong, okay? There’s still another month before graduation. Don’t lose your focus now.” She looked at you and Eddie tiredly. “You two. Class. Now.”
You sighed as you saw your window of opportunity close. Eddie peeled himself away from you and started down the hallway.
“See ya later,” he said over his shoulder.
“Bye,” you said back, hiding your disappointment behind a smile.
Upon returning to your locker, you grabbed your textbook—the right textbook—and wedged it in the crook of your left elbow. While hunting around for the matching notebook and folder, you heard Eddie’s voice behind you again, catching you completely by surprise.
“Oh, wait,” he said hurriedly, “I forgot to tell you something.”
“Hmm?”
You turned around and felt Eddie’s hands cup the sides of your face, drawing you in for a soft, sweet kiss. You closed your eyes, savoring it. A moment later, he broke the kiss and pulled away.
“See you in third period,” he said, departing with a smile.
It took you a second to recover from that. When you finally did, you clutched your textbook to your chest and smiled uncontrollably, tears brimming in your eyes, your heart racing, stomach fluttering, face glowing with pure, radiant joy.
Under your breath, you whispered, “I hate so much that I have to be in school right now.”
Gareth, on the other hand, was glad to be in school today. Admittedly, his morning had gotten off to a rough start, but things were finally starting to look up for him, and now he felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
But he didn’t wanna jinx it.
In first period, Gareth snuck into the library and talked to Matilda Gunn: salutatorian, captain of the debate team, and the third name on Gareth’s list (his new list, of course; the original list was long gone, probably lying in a trashcan somewhere).
Matilda, anyway, was sitting at the back table and studying for her upcoming physics test. Matilda preferred studying in the library over her study hall class because she couldn’t stand the sound of her neighbor chewing and slurping his nails. She wasn’t too happy when Gareth pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. She was even less happy when he brought up Eddie Munson.
“First of all, I’m offended that you would even think I would associate with that moron. I hate the guy. He ruined my GPA. Stupid group projects… God, I hate them!” Enraged, Matilda tore a random leaf out of her notebook and ripped the poor thing to shreds. Gareth watched her do it, horrified, and hoped there was nothing important written on that page. “You know, if I’d known he was gonna slack off like he did, I would’ve just done the whole thing myself. But no… I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I gave him the easiest task and he couldn’t even do that. He said he forgot about it. Said he was busy working on a campaign or something.”
“Yeah, he gets like that sometimes,” Gareth said. “Like last month, he spent the whole weekend learning ‘Master of Puppets.’ Have you heard that song?”
Matilda shook her head, her eyes glazed with boredom.
“Well, doesn’t matter. It’s a very hard song to play. That’s all you need to know. And Eddie became obsessed with it. He locked himself in his room all weekend and practiced over and over and—”
Matilda pressed her hand to her temple and hissed, “Listen, junior freak, I don’t give a shit about Eddie Munson and his fucking guitar. Okay? Second of all, I didn’t even go to prom on Saturday. I was studying all weekend, studying for this test, and if I don’t get an A, I’m gonna hold you personally responsible. Now get lost.”
Gareth lurched back in his seat and felt his mouth go dry.
(Once again, why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)
“Okay,” he said in a small voice. “I’m, uhh, sorry for bothering you.”
He got up to leave.
“Wait,” Matilda said with a sigh; then after a moment of careful, painful deliberation, she put out her hand. “Gimme your stupid list.”
Gareth held the list against his chest, protecting it. “You’re not gonna rip it up, are you?” he asked, observing the tattered remains of her last victim. “Because I’m getting kinda tired of writing all these names out.”
And some of those girls had really long names.
“I’m not gonna rip it up.” Matilda’s voice was strained with frustration and fatigue, but there was still some warmth hiding in there, dimly glowing beneath the cold black coals of her heart. “I’m gonna help you narrow it down, okay? Otherwise, you’ll never figure it out.” She motioned impatiently with her hand. “Come on, hurry up.”
Gareth handed her the list and she looked it over for a minute, vaguely amused.
“Not a very long list,” she said while uncapping her highlighter with her teeth.
“Well, Eddie’s very picky.”
As he should be, Gareth thought. That man deserved the best.
(much better than you)
Matilda snorted under her breath. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” She rolled her eyes, bent her head, and began marking up the list with her highlighter. Her hand was calm and controlled, each movement deliberate, precise, as to be expected of an advanced test taker. “Okay, she has a boyfriend… she, I’m pretty sure, has a girlfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend… she’s been out of town for a funeral… and she… doesn’t even live in this state anymore.”
She crossed off the last name and slid the paper across the table.
Gareth gaped at it, speechless. “You just eliminated everyone.”
Matilda shrugged. “Like I said, not a long list.”
It was a major setback, the kind of setback that made you want to tear the whole thing to pieces, cut your losses, and give up. Gareth seriously considered it. He almost did it while sitting in his second-period class.
But then an angel appeared. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel named Olivia Kent.
She peered over his shoulder during class. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked, sitting with her chin on her palm.
Gareth considered lying, saying he was working on his assignment or something, but in his current state, he didn’t have the heart to deceive anyone, especially not Olivia, who was so innocent and kind.
“I’m trying to figure out who my friend went home with after prom.”
“Oh? Who’s your friend?”
“Eddie Munson.”
“Oh…” Olivia giggled a silly, unaffected giggle. “Yeah, he had quite the night.”
Gareth turned around in his seat. “You were at prom, Livvy?”
“Mhm! It was a lotta fun.”
“And you saw Eddie there?”
“Sure. I saw him lots of times.”
“Did you see him leave with anybody?”
“Sure did… I saw everything.”
“You saw everything?” Gareth sat back, awestruck, and felt tears come to his eyes. This was it. This was finallyit. This was the breakthrough that Gareth had been waiting for. An eyewitness—a star witness—had emerged at last, willing and eager to cooperate. “Oh, Livvy, you beautiful, beautiful, heavenly creature, tell me everything.”
“About what?”
“About prom, Livvy.”
“Oh, you wanna hear about prom?” Olivia shrugged, smiled, and said, “Okay! Philip Cuthbert asked me. I didn’t think he was going to, but then he totally surprised me! I wore a frilly pink dress and matching pink heels. Phillip wore a dark blue tux and a black bowtie. I think it was black, but it might’ve been blue, too. Then Philip got me one of those really pretty flower bracelets… What are those called again? Oh, right, corsages! Anyway, we took pictures on the front lawn of my house, then we took pictures at his house, and then we took more pictures in front of City Hall. I don’t normally like taking so many pictures, but I didn’t mind so much in this case. It was a special occasion. Phillip said I looked very pretty. He was really nice to me all night. He held my hand. He bought me dinner. He got me some cake. I actually ate two slices of cake that night, but don’t tell anybody, okay? I was only supposed to have one. And then we danced and drank punch and we danced again—”
Gareth put his hand on top of hers, making Olivia blush and look at him in doe-eyed wonderment. “Livvy, I’m glad you had such a fun time at prom, but since class is gonna be ending soon, do you think you could speed things up and get to the part where you saw Eddie? Is that okay?”
“Sure,” Olivia said, smiling. “I saw him talking to Chrissy.”
“Yeah, he went there to ask her to dance. I told him it was a terrible idea, but he refused to listen to me.”
“Yeah, that was a bad idea. Why would he do that?”
“Because Eddie’s a hopeless romantic.”
“Really?” Olivia frowned, considering it. “He doesn’t seem like one.”
“He hides it behind a mask of cynicism, and he hides it very well.”
“Oh,” Livvy said, mystified by the concept. “Well, I guess that explains why he got up on stage then.”
“Wait, Eddie got up on stage?”
Damn, Gareth thought, that’s actually really impressive.
“Mhm! He gave this long speech and everything. My friends said it was really weird and embarrassing, but honestly, I thought it was kinda sweet. Super embarrassing, but sweet. It was kind of like a… hmm… well, I guess you could call it a love confession. I don’t remember what he said exactly, but it was really adorable, and normally I wouldn’t use that word to describe Eddie—you know, ‘cause he’s so mean and scary-looking—but at that moment, he really was adorable. Kinda like a puppy. And then he played Journey and—”
Gareth’s head rocked back. “He played Journey? Eddie played Journey? Eddie doesn’t like Journey. Nobody likes Journey. Nobody except…”
(you)
Gareth’s eyes widened. His stomach plummeted to the floor. Then he shook his head and the thought was gone.
“Okay, maybe it’s just a coincidence,” he said. “Maybe the DJ suggested Journey. Do you remember what song it was, Livvy?”
“No, I don’t. Sorry, I’m not very good with song titles.”
“Was it ‘Separate Ways’? ‘Any Way You Want It’? ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’? ‘Faithfully’? ‘Open Arms’?”
“You know, for someone who doesn’t like Journey, you sure know a lot of Journey songs.”
And for someone who seemed like such an airhead, Olivia Kent was shockingly observant. Gareth was rather impressed. He couldn’t help but tip his head to her. Touché, fair lady.
“I think it was the last one,” Olivia said.
“‘Open Arms’?”
“I think so.”
“So Eddie played a sappy love song,” Gareth concluded while rubbing his chin. “Makes sense.”
“Mhm… and it must’ve worked ‘cause she left with him right after.”
“You saw the girl who left with him?”
“Yep.”
“You saw her face?”
“Of course I did. She walked right past me.”
“And did you recognize her?”
“Uh-huh!”
“YES!” Gareth pumped his fists excitedly. He almost leaped out of his chair and kissed her, he was so happy. “Who was it, Livvy? Tell me who it was!”
Olivia sighed. “I don’t remember.”
“What?” Gareth’s heart shattered. “But you just said you recognized her.”
“I did recognize her face, but I don’t remember her name… Sorry, Gareth, I’m not very good with names.”
“You’re not good with names,” Gareth repeated softly, beside himself. “She’s not good with names. She’s not good with names. My star witness isn’t good with names.”
He laughed madly to himself, feeling dizzy and delirious, feeling like the whole room was spinning like a turntable. A turntable playing Journey. Journey! Of all the bands in the world, Eddie, why Journey? Why? Why?
Meanwhile, Olivia rested her cheek against her palm and smiled at him. “You have really pretty eyes. Do you want my number?”
Gareth paused, considering it. His face turned bright red.
“Yes, Livvy. Yes, I’d love to get your number.”
“Cool!” She scribbled it on a piece of notebook paper and handed it to him. “Call me sometime, okay?”
So now Gareth was strolling away from his third-period class with a laminated hall pass in hand, Olivia Kent’s phone number in his pocket, a massive pit in his stomach, and Steve Perry’s annoying voice in his head.
Journey.
Eddie had requested Journey.
It wasn’t a coincidence, was it?
Gareth walked past Mr. Prichard’s math class, stopped, and backpedaled a few paces. He pressed his face against the glass and peered inside.
Eddie was sitting at his desk with his assignment out and textbook open in front of him. He had his pencil in his hand, but he had yet to write a single answer. He was just tapping it against his notebook while he stared absently at the chalkboard, stared with a faraway look in his eyes. Gareth knew that look. It meant Eddie was lost in thought, usually about D&D or whatever new song he was learning, but today Gareth had a sneaking suspicion that Eddie was thinking about something else—or rather someone else.
But not you. Please, God, not you.
You were sitting behind him and quietly working on your assignment, just working on your assignment, and that caught Gareth a little off guard. If you had gone home with Eddie (as Gareth begrudgingly suspected now), shouldn’t you have been acting a little… happy? excited? Shouldn’t you have been staring at the back of his head with a dumb, lovesick expression? Daydreaming and doodling about him in your notebook? Naming your future children and planning your destination wedding?
Gareth expected to feel something when he peeked into that classroom. A change in energy. A shift in the natural balance of the universe. Call it whatever you want, but there should have been a noticeable difference in the air, right? Right?
But there wasn’t.
Everything was totally normal.
You and Eddie were acting totally normal.
And that filled Gareth with an exhilarating sense of relief.
It wasn’t you. Thank God, it wasn’t you.
Gareth backed away with a smile. If he had stayed a minute longer, he would have seen the exact change in energy he had been waiting for. If he had stayed a minute longer, he would have seen Eddie turn around and start talking to you. He would have seen you smile and blush and tell him to go back to his assignment (even though you didn’t really want him to go back to his assignment). Then he would have seen Eddie turn back to the front, try to do his work, give up, and turn around again five minutes later.
But Gareth didn’t stay. Instead, he continued down the hallway in blissful ignorance, pulled out his list, ripped it up, and tossed the pieces into the trash.
If it wasn’t any of them and it wasn’t you, there was only one logical conclusion.
“She doesn’t go to school here, does she?”
Gareth forced this treasonous charge onto Eddie as soon as he arrived at the cafeteria. He had found his target sitting at his usual place at the head of the table. The seat of high honor. Eddie’s chair. The king’s chair. Gareth, a once-honorable and faithful soldier, slammed down his tray, leaned forward, pressed his palms into the table, and looked Eddie Munson square in the eye. Unblinking. Unflinching. Unyielding against his Dungeon Master’s powerful, intimidating aura.
A moment of tense silence passed. Jeff and Grant looked at each other and immediately stopped eating. Jeff put down his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Grant screwed on the lid of his soup thermos and set the container aside. There was no telling how long this would take. Gareth had a talent for prolonging his inevitable demise. It was like watching a slow hanging.
Oh, but what a show it would be.
“Who is she, Eddie?” Gareth thrust out his finger accusingly. “Huh? Is she a teacher? A townie? Some drunk chick you picked up at the bar while drowning your pathetic sorrows away?”
“Yikes,” Jeff said, cringing.
And Grant said, “That is quite the allegation.”
Indeed it was, and Eddie didn’t seem to appreciate the open assault on his character. His brown eyes sharpened into a steely glare. They reflected Gareth’s destruction like a black crystal ball. Doom. Doom. Doom.
“Get your finger outta my face,” Eddie said, and that was all he needed to say.
“I’m so sorry,” Gareth said, and fell back into his chair with a thump. His heart thudded in his chest while the color slowly returned to his face. That was as close to death as Gareth had ever come. It was a miracle he’d survived. He bent his head and capitulated: “I sincerely apologize for my previous statement. It was malicious and rude, completely unbecoming of my position.”
Grant squinted his eyes curiously. “And what is your position, exactly?”
“I’m Eddie’s best friend, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Jeff echoed, snickering.
Grant, wryly amused, said, “Uhh, I’m pretty sure Scottie’s his best friend.”
Eddie, having dropped his tyrannous facade, was pretending to listen while absentmindedly picking through his snack bag, his thoughts elsewhere, eyes elsewhere. But where, Gareth couldn’t say. He had strained his neck to see who Eddie was looking at, but it was impossible to tell with so many people in the cafeteria. He could have been looking at anyone, anyone, anyone except you.
“He’s right,” Eddie murmured. “Scottie’s my best friend.”
Gareth shrugged, unconcerned with such trivial technicalities. “Well, then I’m your second best friend, Eddie, and since Scottie’s in prison right now, I have to step in and assume the role in his stead.”
“Ah, the interim best friend. So that’s the imaginary position you gave yourself.”
“Oh, shut up and eat your soup, Grant.”
“I will eat my soup,” Grant said, “and I’ll enjoy it while you continue to embarrass yourself.”
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Gareth grumbled nonsensically. He stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. It tasted like dirt. “I’m having a really horrible day.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” Eddie said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Mine’s actually going pretty well.”
Another cryptic response. Gareth simply couldn’t take it anymore.
“You know,” Jeff began, “speaking of Scottie—”
Gareth flung down his fork angrily, sending a spear of broccoli whizzing past Grant’s left shoulder.
“Oh, come on, just tell me who it is already! Enough with the hints and the coded language. I swear to God, you’re driving me crazy, Eddie! You’ve been torturing me for days with this mystery. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything else. As your friend, I’m begging you to stop. Please, for my sanity, stop.”
Eddie popped a pretzel into his mouth and chewed. “I’ve been torturing you?”
Grant said, “He’s been torturing himself, honestly.”
Jeff nodded, seeming on the verge of laughter. “Yeah, he made a list and everything.”
Eddie grimaced. “Wait, there’s a list? Why is there a list?”
“Because you’ve driven me to madness, Eddie!” Gareth blurted out in blind white rage. “I hope you’re happy because you’ve driven me to complete madness! Who were you with on Saturday? Don’t even try to deny it because I heard a girl talking in the background. It wasn’t the TV. It was a girl. A living, breathing girl. I know you were with her that night, and I know you were with her yesterday.”
“I wasn’t with her yesterday,” Eddie replied, his eyelids heavy with annoyance. “I already told you, I was out running errands.”
“Oh, you’re sticking with that story, huh? Okay, Eddie, let’s assume you were out running errands. Let’s assume you spent your whole Sunday exactly as you said. You got up bright and early, stopped by the drugstore for God knows what, and then spent the rest of the day by yourself at home, cleaning out your van.”
“I did clean out my van yesterday. That’s how I found my lost W.A.S.P. tape.”
“Oh, which album?” Grant asked.
“The Last Command,” Eddie answered, a soft smile touching his face.
Wait, was that another clue?
“Nice,” Grant said. “That’s a solid album.”
Eddie nodded, agreeing, but now there was a distant glimmer in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Gareth couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was as if his friend was lost in a cherished memory.
What significance did this W.A.S.P. tape hold?
Was there any significance?
These questions twisted Gareth’s mind into a pretzel.
And speaking of pretzels, Eddie had set down his snack bag and stopped eating. Weird. He now sat with his arms folded over his chest, fingers drumming impatiently against his right bicep. His wandering eyes kept going back to the clock. Counting down the minutes. What had him so restless all of a sudden? What was he waiting for? His next class? English? Was that significant? Eddie hated English. He dreaded English. He complained about it every day because it meant he had to see—
Eddie pushed off the table and stood up. Gareth climbed up from his chair, too.
“Where are you going, Eddie?”
“Dude,” Jeff said, looking up at him. “You need to calm down.”
“Otherwise,” Grant went on, “you might get demoted to third best friend.”
The two of them dissolved into laughter. Gareth didn’t even hear them.
“It’s happening,” he muttered. “Something’s happening.”
“Yeah, you annoyed Eddie so much that he had to leave to get away from you.”
But that wasn’t it. Eddie wasn’t fleeing for the exit like a coward. No, he was marching straight through the middle of the cafeteria like a lone soldier charging through the battlefield. Charging to victory or to death. He was infiltrating the enemy’s stronghold, impervious to their hostile glares and raised eyebrows. Even Jason Carver himself, who had begun to get out of his chair, could not stop him today. Eddie was a man determined, a man determined to get to
(of course)
you.
He wedged himself between two basketball players, pushed his palms into the table, and greeted you with a charming smile. You gazed up at him in sweet surprise.
“Hi,” you said.
“Hi,” he said back. “You wanna skip next period?”
Chrissy’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” she said while you blushed, buried your face in your hands, and giggled.
Gareth, dumbstruck, slumped back into his chair with the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth.
That bitch, he thought. That Journey-loving bitch, she actually did it.
Grant regarded him with an impressed frown. “You know, you’re handling this a lot better than I thought you would. When did you figure it out?”
Gareth sighed. “Second period.”
Eddie just had to play Journey.
There was a moment of solemn silence after that. Then Grant unscrewed his soup thermos and lunch resumed as usual. Jeff took a bite of his sandwich. Gareth, now resigned to his grim fate, stuck his fork into his meatloaf and cut himself a modest slice. The meat looked dry and grey. What a horrible new world he lived in.
But, he supposed, there was something to look forward to.
“I got Olivia Kent’s number today. I think I’m gonna ask her out this weekend.”
SERIES MASTERPOST
FANFICTION MASTERLIST
unfortunately, i no longer do taglists. if you want to stay updated on my fics, you can follow me and/or subscribe to my posts. thank you!
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x fem!reader#stranger things#stranger things 4#hellfire club#gareth stranger things#jeff stranger things#jason carver#chrissy cunningham#chrissy x jason#eddie munson x dwm!reader#dancing with myself#dwm#dwm short#ambrossart
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What is Smart Contracts in Blockchain & How does it Work?
In the world of blockchain technology, smart contracts have become a buzzword, but what exactly are they and how do they work? Let’s break down this complex concept into simpler terms to grasp the basics.
What Are Smart Contracts?
Imagine a traditional contract you might sign for buying a house or getting a job. It’s a set of gratix technologies rules and agreements written on paper. Now, replace that paper with lines of code, and you’ve got yourself a smart contract.
In essence, a Smart Contracts in Blockchain is a self-executing program that runs on a blockchain. It’s like a digital agreement with predefined rules, and when conditions are met, the contract executes automatically. No need for middlemen, lawyers, or paperwork — everything is transparent and automated.
How Do Smart Contracts Work?
To understand how smart contracts work, let’s use a real-world example — a vending machine.
Selecting the Product:
You walk up to a vending machine, choose your favourite snack, and insert the required amount of money.
In a smart contract:
Think of selecting the product Smart Contracts in Blockchain as setting the conditions. You decide what you want the contract to do.
Payment Confirmation:
The machine checks if you’ve inserted the correct amount of money. If yes, the transaction is confirmed, and the machine proceeds to the next step.
In a smart contract:
This is where the conditions are verified. If all the predefined rules are met, the contract moves forward.
Product Delivery:
After confirming your payment, the vending machine dispenses the snack you selected.
In a smart contract:
This is the execution phase. Once the conditions are satisfied, the smart contract carries out the specified actions automatically.
No Middlemen Involved:
The vending machine operates without the need for a middleman. It’s a direct interaction between you and the machine.
In a smart contract:
Similarly, smart contracts Smart Contracts in Blockchain eliminate intermediaries, ensuring a direct and secure interaction between parties involved.
Key Characteristics of Smart Contracts
Smart contracts operate on a Blockchain development Company, which is a decentralised and secure network. Trust is established through cryptography, ensuring the integrity and authenticity of the contract.
Transparency:
All transactions and actions within a smart contract are visible on the blockchain. This transparency reduces the risk of fraud and provides a clear record of activities.
Automation:
Once the conditions are met, the Smart Contracts in Blockchain executes automatically. This automation eliminates the need for manual intervention, making processes more efficient.
Security:
Smart contracts use cryptographic techniques to secure data and transactions. This robust security framework makes them resistant to hacking gratix technologies and unauthorised access.
Real-World Applications
Smart contracts are widely used in financial transactions, such as lending, borrowing, and trading. They automate the execution of agreements, reducing the risk of human error.
Supply Chain Management:
Tracking Smart Contracts in Blockchain the production and distribution of goods becomes more efficient with smart contracts. They enable real-time monitoring and automatic triggering of actions based on predefined conditions.
Real Estate:
Property transactions gratix technologies involve complex agreements. Smart contracts simplify the process by automating tasks like fund transfers and document verification when specific conditions are met.
Legal Industry:
Legal contracts, which often involve a series of predefined conditions, can benefit from the automation and transparency provided by smart contracts.
Challenges and Considerations
While smart contracts offer numerous advantages, it’s crucial to be aware of potential challenges:
Code Vulnerabilities:
Errors in the code can lead to unintended consequences. Careful auditing and testing are essential to minimise risks.
Irreversibility:
Once a smart contract is executed, it’s irreversible. Correcting mistakes may require additional transactions or amendments.
Integration with the Real World: Smart contracts may gratix technologies struggle with incorporating real-world events or data. They rely on external information, which can sometimes be inaccurate.
Conclusion
In summary, Smart Contracts in Blockchain are like the vending machines of the digital world; they operate based on predefined rules, automating processes and eliminating the need for intermediaries. With their trust, transparency, and security features, smart contracts have the potential to revolutionise various industries. As we continue to explore and develop this technology, gratix technologies it’s essential to understand its benefits, challenges, and the diverse applications that make smart contracts a fascinating aspect of the blockchain revolution.
#igaming software#blockchain consulting#metaverse development#defi development company#blockchain development#Blockchain development Company#Smart Contracts in Blockchain#Web 3.0 Development Company#gratixtechnologies
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《The Heart That Couldn't Stay》
Mel Medarda
writer's note: i can only say that i love sad endings. so anyways, this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested ;)
link:
warnings: smut, fingering, angst, kinda fluff, sad ending, mel's such a love bird, reader can be a little mean but she has her reasons.
The Greek sky burned with the colors of sunset, a palette that seemed plucked straight from an Impressionist painting. The spiritual retreat Mel had chosen was nestled between mountains and the Aegean Sea, a sanctuary designed to unburden the mind. Yet, in hers, only chaos reigned. Her work as an international consultant had been relentlessly demanding, draining her creative energy for strategy and art alike. Inspiration, the elusive muse she sought, had vanished entirely.
That evening, a local collector had organized a dinner at his villa—an event brimming with artists and influential figures in the art world. Mel attended more out of obligation than genuine interest. She wandered through the private collection, examining sculptures with a detached gaze, her wine glass resting lightly in her hand. Everything around her felt hollow, devoid of meaning, until she heard a voice behind her—clear, melodic, and disarmingly self-assured.
"Did you know this sculptor worked blindfolded? He believed his hands understood form better than his eyes."
Startled, Mel turned. There you were. For a moment, she was at a loss for words. She had always considered herself striking, a vision of exotic elegance, but your beauty defied comparison. It was surreal, almost otherworldly. Perhaps it was the way your eyes shimmered as if they'd stolen the light of distant stars or how your smile radiated an effortless confidence that drew others in. Whatever it was, you were magnetic, a living paradox that demanded attention.
You wore a sheer white dress that contrasted beautifully with your skin, revealing more than it concealed, yet you seemed unbothered—on the contrary, you reveled in the freedom it afforded.
"That sounds... contradictory," Mel responded, intrigued, though she fought to keep her gaze from lingering on the tantalizing curve of your barely covered form.
"Isn’t all art a contradiction?" you replied with a mischievous glint in your eyes.
For the first time in days, Mel felt her mind stir from its slumber. "You seem well-versed in contradictions."
"Perhaps because I am one," you said with a playful tilt of your head, extending your hand toward her. "Call me Zephyr."
Mel took your hand, noting the silky softness of your skin. "Zephyr? I assume that’s not your real name." Her elegant brow arched inquisitively as she studied you. It was as though you held all the secrets of the cosmos, and she longed to unravel them.
You let out a soft laugh, a sound as entrancing as a siren’s song. "It isn’t, but I prefer it. It suits me better."
Mel’s curiosity sharpened. She needed to know more, to hear every syllable that fell from your captivating lips. "Why Zephyr?"
"Because it’s beautiful," you said simply. "Like a gentle breeze—it doesn’t disrupt or intrude, only graces you with its presence. And as quickly as it comes, it’s gone." You gestured with your hand, mimicking the delicate path of the wind, even blowing softly as if to give life to your words.
Mel smiled, entertained by your theatrics. She studied you intently, capturing every nuance of your expression. She could tell she wasn’t the first to be enchanted by your enigmatic charm. And yet, she found herself wanting to be the one exception—the one to see beyond your veil of mystery.
"Zephyr, then," Mel murmured, setting her wine glass on a nearby table. "Do you always make it a habit to bewilder strangers in galleries?" There was a playful edge to her tone, a subtle challenge laced with flirtation.
"Only those who seem to need it," you replied, circling her with deliberate grace, your gaze never leaving hers.
"And what makes you think I’m in need?" Mel hated to admit it, but she was spellbound. Each word you spoke felt more fascinating than the last. For someone as difficult to impress as Mel Medarda, this was no small feat.
You met her gaze with an intensity that seemed to pierce her flawless exterior. "Because you’re here, surrounded by art, but not feeling it. It’s as if you’re searching for something… yet you don’t know what it is." Your knack for reading people was uncanny, a skill you wielded like an artist’s brush to paint reactions as vivid as your observations.
Mel was momentarily speechless. Rarely did anyone manage to see through her polished façade. "Perhaps you’re right. But that doesn’t explain why you’re here."
"I’m a model," you said casually. "I work with painters, sculptors… I enjoy being part of their creations. And I like meeting intriguing people." Your voice carried an honesty that made it impossible to doubt you. Art wasn’t just a part of your life—it was the lens through which you viewed the world.
"Does that mean you find me intriguing?" Mel’s amusement was evident, but so was the faint undercurrent of seduction in her voice.
You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting against her ear, deliberate and tantalizing. "I’m giving you the chance to prove it."
The conversation flowed effortlessly as you explored the villa together. Mel couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken with someone like this. The way you spoke about art and life was intoxicating—each idea fresh, bold, and delivered with a passion that reignited something dormant within her.
When the dinner concluded, you invited her for a walk through the gardens. Under the starlit sky, Mel realized the Greek breeze bore a whisper of your essence: gentle yet unforgettable.
"What do you do when you’re not modeling for artists?" Mel asked as they strolled past ancient olive trees.
"I live," you said simply, as though it were the easiest thing in the world. "I don’t make plans or tie myself down. I savor whatever comes my way. And you?"
"I live to work," Mel confessed with a hint of irony.
You stopped and turned to face her, your gaze filled with quiet compassion. "How tragic. I hope that changes one day."
Something shifted inside Mel at that moment, a spark she hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t just attraction—it was curiosity, inspiration. She wanted to know more about you, the enigma who seemed to defy all her carefully constructed rules.
When you finally said goodbye, you offered her one last, enigmatic smile before vanishing into the night.
Mel remained rooted to the spot, the breeze playing with her hair. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, her mind was alive with possibilities, her thoughts consumed by the living mystery that you were.
The days following your encounter at the villa became a blend of shared moments between Mel and you. It was as if the gentle breeze you had spoken of that night had decided to linger, wrapping both of you in an air of discovery and unspoken wishes. The connection between you was subtle, like an invisible thread that neither of you could ignore, yet neither dared to name.
You found yourself taking her to places even the locals didn’t know existed. First, a hidden beach nestled between cliffs, where the water was so clear that you could see every pebble resting on the seabed. As you walked along the shore, the ocean breeze played with your hair, and Mel watched you as though you were part of the landscape, as if you belonged to that place as much as the sand and waves.
"How did you find this spot?" Mel finally asked, breaking the silence that had reigned for several minutes.
"It’s easier to find what others overlook when you’re not searching for anything," you replied with a smile that she was beginning to recognize as your signature—an enigmatic gesture that spoke volumes while revealing nothing at all.
Mel laughed softly. "You’re impossible, you know that?"
"I do," you said, winking before stepping closer to the water, letting the waves kiss your feet.
Another day, you took her to an art studio tucked away in a narrow city alley. The walls were covered in paintings, some completed, others barely begun. Sculptures and scattered tools filled the space, and the air smelled of paint and freshly carved wood.
"Is this place yours?" Mel asked, her gaze sweeping across the room.
"It belongs to a friend," you explained. "He lets me come here when I need to remember that chaos can also be beautiful."
Mel watched as you moved through the canvases, brushing your fingertips lightly over a few of them, as though you were reading them rather than touching them. You stopped in front of an unfinished painting and gestured toward it with your chin.
"What do you see?" you asked.
Mel squinted, trying to decipher the shapes and colors. "It’s hard to say... It looks like a landscape, but there’s something more abstract about it. As if the artist is searching for something they haven’t found yet."
"Exactly," you said, turning to face her. "Sometimes art is just that—a search with no end."
It was then, as she observed you surrounded by art and mystery, that Mel said it.
"I want you to be my muse."
You turned to her, not so much surprised as flattered. "Your muse?"
Mel nodded, crossing her arms as she tried to maintain a serious expression. "I have a painting I can’t finish. I’ve tried everything, but... I feel like something’s missing. And I think that something is you."
Your enigmatic smile appeared once more, though your eyes held a glimmer of amusement. "Are you sure? Being your muse comes with risks."
"What risks?" Mel asked, raising an eyebrow—a gesture you had noticed she often made when nervous.
You stepped closer to her, the space between you diminishing, and whispered, "That you might fall in love with me. Promise me you won’t fall in love with me." Your expression was tinged with sadness; you didn’t want Mel to make the same mistake others had. You liked her too much for that.
Mel’s laughter filled the studio, but you noticed the faint blush creeping across her cheeks. "I think I can handle it," she finally said, though you weren’t entirely convinced.
The first painting session took place the following day in Mel’s studio, where she had set up a large canvas in the center of the room. The golden hues of the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow that made your skin shimmer as though you were made of light.
You sat gracefully on a stool, crossing your legs, while Mel prepared her brushes and paints. You watched her in silence, captivated by the intensity of her focus.
"Ready?" she asked, glancing up at you.
"I was born ready," you replied with a smile that seemed to challenge her.
As Mel began to paint, the tension in the room became palpable. Her eyes flicked between the canvas and you, as though each brushstroke was a confession. For your part, you remained still, though inside you could feel the energy building between you, like an electric current threatening to spark.
"I can’t figure you out," Mel murmured suddenly, breaking the silence.
"Why would you want to?" you asked reflexively, though you already knew the answer. You were used to this—people becoming obsessed with the idea of unraveling you, of discovering why you were the way you were, instead of simply accepting you as you were. But no, humans were selfish; they always wanted more.
"Because I feel like there are so many layers to you... and I want to see them all," Mel said, speaking as though she were discovering a new world, an uncharted planet yet to be named by scientists.
You allowed yourself a soft laugh, though there was a hint of melancholy in it. "Perhaps some things are more beautiful when they remain hidden."
Hours later, just as Mel was about to add the finishing touches, the rain began. The storm arrived abruptly, with heavy drops pelting the windows and wind howling to break in.
"We should stop," Mel said, but you were already on your feet.
You stepped outside without a word, letting the rain soak your dress and hair. Instead of seeking shelter, you began to dance, spinning with your arms outstretched, as though celebrating the storm’s arrival.
Mel watched you from the doorway, utterly captivated. She had never seen anything so beautiful, so pure. Finally, she couldn’t resist and stepped out after you, ignoring the rain drenching her clothes.
When she reached you, you stopped and looked her directly in the eyes. The starry sky seemed to reflect in your gaze, and Mel felt everything else fade away.
Without thinking, you closed the space between you and kissed her. It was a slow, deep kiss, filled with every unsaid word and every promise yet to be made. Promises that would never be kept.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but neither the rain nor the cold seemed to matter.
"Come with me," Mel said, taking your hand.
You followed her inside, the wooden floorboards creaking softly beneath your soaked shoes. Rainwater drips from your hair, tracing rivulets down the curve of your neck and between the valley of your breasts, visible through the drenched fabric of your black dress. The cool air pebbles your nipples, making them strain against the damp material.
Mel closes the door behind you, the click echoing in the tranquil space. Shadows dance across the whitewashed walls, cast by the flickering candlelight illuminating an array of paintings - vibrant splashes of color amidst the neutral tones. The scent of rain mingles with the earthy aroma of oil paints and turpentine.
"You have no idea how much I've been waiting for this moment," Mel murmurs, her voice low and sultry. She reaches out, trailing a finger along your jawline, tilting your chin up gently. Her touch is cool from the rain, sending shivers down your spine. You laughed softly, enjoying the moment. Her desperation for you was entertaining.
You lean into her hand, your own coming up to cover hers. Your fingers intertwine, thumbs brushing against each other in a intimate caress. Mel's skin is soft, yet calloused from hours spent holding a paintbrush. You bring her hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to her palm, feeling her pulse flutter beneath your touch.
"I've been waiting for this too, Mel,"
Mel's breath hitches, her chest rising and falling more rapidly. She takes another step closer, until your bodies are a mere whisper apart. You can feel the heat radiating off her, a stark contrast to the chill of the rain. Her eyes never leave yours as she reaches for the hem of your dress, slowly, teasingly, peeling the drenched fabric up and over your head.
Cool air kisses your newly exposed skin, making your nipples tighten further. Mel's gaze drops to your chest, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. She leans in, her breath ghosting over the swell of your breasts. Your heart pounds, anticipation coiling in your belly.
You help her shrug out of her own shirt, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Beneath, she wears a lacy bra and a pair of matching panties, both a shade darker than the candlelit room. The damp fabric clings to her curves, hinting at the supple flesh beneath. You reach out, tracing the lace along her collarbone, feeling the heat of her skin through the delicate material.
Mel shivers at your touch, her nipples visibly hardening beneath the flimsy lace. She takes your hand, guiding it lower, over the swell of her breasts, down her taut stomach. Stopping just above the waistband of her panties, she looks up at you through hooded eyes, her gaze smoldering with unspoken desires.
Leaning in, you capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all your pent-up longing into the embrace. Mel responds hungrily, her fingers tangling in your damp hair, pulling you closer. Your bodies mold together, the coolness of your rain-soaked skin contrasting with the heat building between you. It was so stimulating.
You walk backwards until your legs hit the edge of the paint-splattered drop cloth draped across the center of the room. Mel's hands roam over your naked back, nails raking lightly over your skin, leaving tingling trails in their wake. She pushes you gently, urging you to sit on the edge of the canvas.
Falling back onto the soft fabric, you watch as Mel unhooks her bra, letting it slip down her arms and onto the floor. Her breasts are full and perfect, topped with chocolate nipples that beg to be tasted. She leans over you, hair falling like a curtain around you both as she takes your hands, placing them on her breasts.
You knead the soft flesh, feeling the weight of her in your palms. Mel arches into your touch, a breathy moan escaping her lips. You roll her nipples between your fingers, feeling them stiffen and peak. Mel's hips undulate against yours, the heat of her core evident even through the layers separating you.
Sitting up, you hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties, slowly dragging them down her long, toned legs. She lifts her hips, helping you remove the last barrier between you. Now, she's bare before you, all smooth skin and tempting curves, illuminated by the flickering candlelight.
She takes your hand, guiding it to the small of her back as she presses herself against you, your hands roaming the curves of her damp dark skin.
"Touch me," Mel breathes, her voice husky with desire. "Feel how much I crave you. My body and my soul needs you."
Your fingers trace her chest, feeling her heart racing beneath your touch. She shivers as your hand cups the soft swell of her breast, your thumb brushing against the hardened peak. A soft moan escapes her lips, her head falling back as she arches into your caress.
You lean in, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. You can taste the rain on her skin, the salt of her desire. "I want you to touch every inch of my body," you murmur, your voice low and filled with want. "To explore the canvas of my body with your hands, your mouth, until you have mapped every curve and hollow."
Mel's hand slides down your back, her nails raking lightly against your skin. She cups your rear, pulling your hips flush against hers. You can feel the heat of her core, even through the layers of your clothing. "Oh, I'll. There's nothing that i crave more than that," she breathes, her lips a hairsbreadth from yours. "I'll taste all of you."
You capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all your pent-up desire and longing into the embrace. She kisses you back fiercely, her tongue plundering your mouth, tangling with yours. Your hands roam her body, squeezing the firm globes of her ass, the soft give of her thighs, the delicate bones of her ribs.
Mel’s hands are just as busy, sliding under your dress. Pulling it down and pushing it off your hips. You kick it off and are left in nothing but a pair of soaked panties. The cool air kisses your hot skin, making you shiver. But then Mel’s hands are on you again, sliding under the damp fabric to cup your most intimate place. Her fingers find your center, caressing the slick folds, eliciting all sorts of reactions from you.
You gasp as Mel’s fingers find your slick heat, your hips bucking at her touch. She caresses your folds, teasing your entrance, feeling your arousal coat her fingers. “You’re so wet,” she murmurs, her voice filled with wonder and desire. “So ready for me.”
You can only moan in response, your head falling back as she circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your toes curl. Your hands grip her shoulders, nails digging into her soft skin as the pleasure builds.
Mel leans in, her lips brushing against your ear. "I want to taste your pleasure," she whispers, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "I want to feel you come undone in my mouth, on my tongue."
Before you can respond, she's lowering herself to her knees, her face level with your aching core. She hooks her fingers in the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs. You lift your hips, helping her remove the last barrier between you.
Now you're bare before her, exposed and wanting. Mel looks up at you, her eyes dark with lust as she takes in the sight of your glistening folds. "Beautiful," she breathes. "Absolutely gorgeous. You are a goddess on earth. I'm sure Aphrodite envies every inch of your perfection. The perfect muse. The best work of art."
You smiled at her, pleased. That was why you liked to get involved with artists, their compliments were on another level.
You watch, heart pounding, as she leans in and inhales deeply, taking in your scent. Then, slowly, teasingly, she leans in and drags the flat of her tongue along your slit, from your entrance to your clit. You cry out, your hands fisting in her hair as bolts of electricity shoot through your body.
Mel hums against your flesh, the vibrations adding to the intense sensation. She licks you again, slower this time, savoring your taste. Her tongue delves between your folds, stroking your walls, feeling your silken heat. She laps at your essence, drinking it down like a woman thirsting.
Your hips undulate against her face, seeking more of her touch. She gives you what you crave, sealing her lips around your clit and suckling gently. The dual sensations of her lips and tongue working in tandem has you seeing stars, your chest heaving with each ragged breath.
As she suckles, her fingers find your entrance, plunging inside. She pumps them in and out, curling them to stroke that secret spot deep within you. The pleasure builds.
Mel's fingers pump faster, plunging in and out of your dripping core as she suckles your clit with increasing fervor. The obscene sound of your arousal fills the studio, mingling with your wanton moans and cries. She can feel your walls starting to flutter around her invading fingers, your body tensing as your climax approaches.
Releasing your clit with a wet pop, Mel looks up at you, her lips glistening with your essence. "Come for me," she commands, her voice rough with lust. "I want to feel you come apart on my tongue."
She seals her lips around your clit once more and suckles hard, two fingers pumping relentlessly into your weeping core. That's all it takes to send you flying over the edge. Your body goes rigid, back arching as a scream of ecstasy tears from your throat.
Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, your inner walls clenching and spasming around Mel's fingers. She works you through your climax, her tongue and fingers never stilling until the last aftershock subsides. As you come down, she gentles her touch, bringing you back to earth.
Finally, she withdraws her fingers, bringing them to her lips to lick them clean. "Delicious," she purrs, her gaze never leaving yours. "I could feast on you for hours."
Once you've regained some composure, you reach out and take Mel's hands, gently tugging her up until she's sitting beside you on the sofa. She comes willingly, a playful smirk on her face. You pull her into a deep, sensual kiss, tasting yourself on her lips and tongue.
Breaking the kiss, you gaze into her eyes, your own filled with a new kind of hunger. "Now it's my turn to worship you," you murmur, your voice low and filled with desire. I'm going to make you discover new sensations. "I'll take you to heaven and bring you down to hell. At the same time. You won't know what's happening, you won't remember anything. You'll only remember me and the pleasure I'll give you."
You guide Mel to lie back against the sofa cushions, her dark hair fanning out around her head like a halo. She complies, her eyes never leaving yours as you settle between her spread thighs. You can see the anticipation in her gaze, the way her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath.
Starting at her ankles, you begin your exploration, trailing your fingers slowly up her calves. Her skin is soft and smooth. You caress her knees, feeling the firmness of the muscles beneath the skin.
Higher you go, skimming your hands along her thighs. Her skin is warm and slightly damp from the rain, the scent of her arousal perfuming the air. You can see the way her muscles tense and flutter beneath your touch, reacting to your every caress.
At the apex of her thighs, you pause, your gaze locked with hers. She's watching you intently, her lips parted slightly, her chest heaving. You can feel the heat radiating off her core, see the damp patch darkening the fabric of her panties.
Unable to resist, you lean in and press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her clothed sex. She gasps, her hips jerking up slightly at the contact. The kiss deepens, your lips moving against her, feeling the shape of her beneath the thin material.
You slowly peel Mel's panties down her legs, revealing her glistening folds to your hungry gaze. She lifts her hips to help you remove the last barrier between you and her aching desire. As you toss the soaked fabric aside, you settle between her thighs, your face mere inches from her dripping sex.
Mel's scent fills your nostrils, the heady aroma of her arousal making your head spin with want. You breathe in deeply, relishing her intoxicating essence. She watches you, her eyes hooded and darkened with lust, as you lean in and extend your tongue.
Slowly, teasingly, you drag your tongue along her slit, feeling her slick arousal coat your taste buds. Mel shudders, a soft moan escaping her lips as your mouth makes contact with her most sensitive flesh. You can feel her walls fluttering, reacting to your touch.
Encouraged by her response, you delve deeper, your tongue plunging into her hot, tight channel. You stroke her walls, feeling the silken texture, tasting her ambrosia. Mel's fingers tangle in your hair, gripping tightly as you feast on her sex.
You lave attention on every inch of her glistening folds, your tongue swirling around her throbbing clit before suckling gently on the sensitive bud. Mel writhes beneath you, her thighs clenching around your head as she grinds her hips against your face.
"Don't stop," she pleads, her voice ragged and breathless. "Please don't stop. I need... I need..."
Her words dissolve into a low moan as you double your efforts, your fingers joining your tongue in pleasuring her. You plunge two digits into her dripping core, pumping them in and out, stroking her walls in time with the strokes of your tongue against her clit.
Mel's grip on your hair tightens, her back arching off the sofa cushions as her climax builds rapidly. You can feel her walls starting to clench, her body tensing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
With a final, hard suckle to her clit and a curl of your fingers deep inside her, you send Mel flying over the edge. She cries out, a sound of pure ecstasy, as her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave.
As Mel's climax subsides, her body goes limp against the sofa, chest heaving as she catches her breath. You place a final, gentle kiss on her sensitive flesh before slowly crawling up her body, leaving a trail of soft kisses along her skin like the perfect lover you were.
Reaching her lips, you capture them in a searing, passionate kiss, pouring all your love and desire into the embrace. Mel kisses you back fiercely, tasting herself on your mouth, moaning softly as her fingers caress your face.
Breaking the kiss, you gaze into her eyes, your own shining with adoration and a deep sense of satisfaction. "That was incredible," you whisper, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. "You're incredible."
Mel smiles, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with post-orgasmic bliss. "I could say the same to you," she murmurs, pulling you down for another tender kiss. "Never in my life have I felt so... complete. So utterly satisfied."
You settle beside her on the sofa, your bodies pressed close, legs entwined. The candlelight flickers over your naked forms, casting a warm, intimate glow. You trace patterns on her skin, marveling at the softness, the smoothness, the way she shivers at your touch.
Mel nestles closer, resting her head on your chest, listening to the steady beat of your heart. Your fingers comb through her dark hair, gently disentangling the damp locks. She sighs contentedly, her hand resting on your stomach, her thumb tracing idle circles on your skin.
In the comfortable silence, you both bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking, the intimacy of the moment. The studio, once filled with the sounds of your passion, now holds a serene, tranquil atmosphere.
Outside, the rain continues to patter against the window panes, the wind whispering through the trees.
Mel quickly fell asleep on your shoulder, you smiled at the tenderness. You adjusted her to a better position and remained silent with your thoughts. You stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if you had made another mistake.
The morning after that night under the rain, Mel woke up with a calmness she couldn’t recall feeling before. She turned toward your side of the sofá, and there you were, eyes closed, your head slightly tilted to one side, as if sleep had found you in the middle of a deep thought. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine that scene repeating every day: you, her, the intimacy of dawn.
But when you opened your eyes, the warmth Mel had hoped for wasn’t there. A polite smile, nothing more. Your movements were gentle yet distant, as if you were preparing for a farewell you hadn’t yet spoken.
“Will you stay for breakfast?” she asked, trying to conceal the vulnerability creeping into her voice.
“I can’t. There are things I need to do,” you replied as you got out of the furniture, dressing at a pace neither hurried nor inviting, leaving no room for Mel to insist.
And so began the days that followed. Mel, eager to draw closer to you, and you, keeping your distance, though you occasionally let glimpses of a deeper connection shine through. Each time she thought she’d breached your walls, you rebuilt them with a coldness that left her unsettled.
Your relationship became a whirlwind of intense, conflicting emotions. On one hand, there were moments when Mel felt you were entirely hers: your touches, your kisses, the overwhelming passion you shared when together. But then came the silences, the averted gazes, the evasive answers that left Mel feeling hollow.
One night, after one of those breathtakingly passionate encounters, Mel finally dared to ask what had been weighing on her for weeks.
“Why do you do this?”
You turned to look at her, your eyes flickering with a mixture of surprise and caution. “Do what?”
“Be so close to me… and then so far away,” Mel said, her voice trembling slightly. “I feel like every time I think I know you, you pull away. As if you want to keep me at arm’s length.”
You sighed, averting your gaze toward the window, as though you wished to escape both her and the conversation. “It’s not that simple.”
“Then explain it to me,” Mel pressed. “Let me understand you.”
For a moment, you seemed torn between the instinct to flee and the possibility of opening up. Finally, you rose from the bed, walking toward the window, wrapping yourself in a sheet. From there, you stared out at the city, your thoughts warring within you.
“There was someone before you, before anyone else,” you began, your voice a mere whisper. “Someone who taught me that you can’t love without losing a part of yourself.” You closed your eyes for a moment, blocking out memories that still stung.
Mel sat up, hugging her knees, waiting for you to continue. She didn’t dare interrupt, fearing any word might make you retreat.
“Her name was Caitlyn,” you said at last, her name still difficult to speak. “She was… perfect. Or at least, that’s what I believed. She was everything I’m not: just, noble, constant. And I… I was her opposite. We were like night and day, but somehow, we worked. Or so I thought.”
You paused, and Mel could see the tension in your shoulders, as if the weight of your memories was too much to bear.
“At first, it was exhilarating. She made me feel alive, like I’d finally found a place where I belonged. But then… the differences began to show. Caitlyn wanted order, rules, a clear purpose. And I… I’m chaos. I’ve always been. I tried to be what she needed, I tried to change, but it was never enough. To Caitlyn, I was always a problem to solve, a piece that didn’t fit into her perfect world.”
Mel edged closer to you but didn’t dare touch you. “What happened to her?”
“She left,” you said, your voice steady but laden with pain. “She left because she couldn’t handle what I am. She left because she couldn’t endure the chaos. And I… well, I learned not to expect anything from anyone.”
You turned to Mel, and your eyes held something she hadn’t seen before: vulnerability. “That’s what I am, Mel. Chaos. I’m not constant, I’m not someone you can understand or fix. And I’m certainly not someone you can save.”
Mel shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t want to save you. I just want… to be with you. I want you to let me try.”
You smiled sadly, stepping closer and cupping her face in your hands. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved,” you whispered before kissing her with an intensity that seemed to etch your words into her heart.
That night, while Mel slept, her breathing soft and steady, you stared at the ceiling, your thoughts oscillating between the serenity of the moment and the storm raging in your mind. Her presence beside you, her gentle warmth, was a constant reminder of what she offered and what you could never fully give back.
Your gaze drifted to her face. In the faint light streaming through the window, she looked angelic—lips slightly parted, hair tousled yet perfect. Her softness, the way her body relaxed under the sheets, radiated a warmth that felt foreign to you.
But it wasn’t her you were thinking of. Unbidden, your mind wandered to Caitlyn. Mel’s face blurred, morphing for an instant into Caitlyn’s, and the echoes of nights spent with her stirred in your chest.
You remembered how Caitlyn used to sleep differently—more composed, her movements deliberate, even in the vulnerability of rest. The contrast with Mel was stark. Caitlyn had never been as open, as vulnerable as Mel. Her love had been stern, unyielding, and what hurt the most was that what you had felt for Caitlyn was nothing like what you felt now for Mel.
You wondered if, deep down, you wished Caitlyn were the one beside you now, holding you, breathing softly by your side. Sometimes, the thought of Caitlyn drew a sigh from your lips, and you couldn’t tell if you lamented it or longed for it with every fiber of your being. Perhaps, you thought, if Caitlyn had been there, things would have been different. She wouldn’t have allowed you to pull away. She would have fought for you, for your love.
But Caitlyn was gone. Caitlyn had left you, taking with her the chance to experience what a genuine, albeit imperfect, love could be. And now, here you were, with Mel, who, without intending to, was overwhelming you with her boundless love and expectations. A love so pure yet too much for someone like you, who had grown used to the emptiness, the cold that kept you safe.
As your eyes traced Mel’s peaceful features, you realized that while your body was here, beside her, your heart, no matter how much you tried to deny it, still sought Caitlyn. It was as if her image was etched into your mind, haunting every corner of your life.
“Why aren’t you her?” you whispered in your thoughts, wishing Mel’s presence could replace what you had lost. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t fair. Not to Mel, and not to yourself.
Caitlyn had been a part of you that you could never reclaim, and maybe—just maybe—that was why you kept your distance. For fear that Mel would become the next victim of a wound that had never truly healed.
You knew Mel was beginning to idealize you, to believe she could change you, as if love alone could mend the cracks in your soul. But you had learned the hard way that it couldn’t. Love doesn’t save; it transforms. And sometimes, those transformations left more scars than they healed.
You promised yourself that, for her sake, you wouldn’t let her get too close. Yet part of you—that small, fractured part that still yearned to feel something other than emptiness—hoped she wouldn’t give up. Yes. You were human, and you were selfish too.
Though your days unfolded with the tranquility of routine, your heart beat in chaotic disarray. At times, you couldn't help but think that Mel was an illusion—a figure too radiant, too intense. And yet, when you looked at her, you knew she was real. She was there, always, her eyes shining with a love so profound and genuine it seemed to consume you, leaving no room to escape.
You kept your distance, of course, because you couldn’t give her what she wanted—what she longed for. Deep down, you knew you’d never be the woman she believed you could become.
Mel was entirely devoted to you, and you were painfully aware of it. To her, you were the muse of her dreams, the missing piece in her life. Her art, her world—everything revolved around you. And no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you knew you had become the center of her existence.
In her infinite passion, she had finished the painting she had been tirelessly working on. Each brushstroke was a silent cry from her heart—a tapestry woven from emotion and anguish, love and despair. The canvas now hanging in her studio captured the magnitude of what you shared but also the boundaries of what you were willing to give. The painting was beautiful, no doubt, but it was also a mirror reflecting all you could never be for her.
The city’s cultural showcase arrived, and as expected, Mel invited you. You felt at ease in the spotlight—you were born for it. The world around you was like a stage you commanded effortlessly. It was so easy, in fact, that it often bored you, driving you to seek novelty, to avoid stagnation at any cost.
You moved through the crowd, flirting shamelessly, aware that Mel couldn’t take her eyes off you. You found it amusing, you had to admit, but you didn’t care about her opinion or her feelings. You had learned to live only for yourself, as everyone should.
The painting was there, standing as a silent declaration of what had been between you. People gathered around it, observing, commenting, admiring. They all said the same things: “It’s stunning.” “A masterpiece.” But you knew that, for Mel, the painting wasn’t just a piece of art. It was a testament to what she felt for you. And that realization stung more than you had expected.
At the end of the night, as the crowd thinned, Mel took your hand with an expression of pride and vulnerability.
“You’ve charmed everyone tonight. Do you realize what you’ve done?” she said, her voice soft but brimming with emotion. “You helped me break through. My work is a success because of you.”
The light in her eyes reflected an uncomfortable truth. She wasn’t just talking about the painting. She didn’t see you merely as a muse for her art. She saw you as something more—something you didn’t know how to handle.
Mel wrapped her arms around you, her body pressing against yours with a familiarity that unsettled you. But when her lips moved closer, when she tried to kiss you, something inside you shattered. You turned your face away abruptly, rejecting her without hesitation.
Her expression shifted from surprise to confusion, then to frustration. It seemed as though she couldn’t comprehend what she had done wrong. It didn’t matter how much she tried; you didn’t feel the same, and you never would, no matter how many gestures of love or tender words she offered.
Your gaze drifted back to the painting—a portrait of you that seemed to delve far beyond the surface. Who were you in that painting? Who were you to Mel? A muse? A perfect image in her mind? A fantasy she could never fulfill?
Before you could speak, Mel broke the silence, her tone urgent, almost desperate.
“I need you to know how I feel,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, as if each word cost her a great effort. “I need more from you. I want you to be mine—entirely. Not just your body, but your soul.”
Her words hit you like a crashing wave against an immovable stone. You felt trapped, as though you were being pulled into something you couldn’t control. But you couldn’t give her what she was asking for. You couldn’t promise her a future that didn’t exist.
“I’ve given you everything I have,” Mel continued, her voice softer now, fragile, like glass on the verge of breaking. “I’ve opened my heart, my mind, my art. But there’s still something missing. Something I don’t want to ask for, but I can’t stop longing for.”
The air in the room grew thick, suffocating. You could hardly breathe, as though an invisible force was tightening around your chest. The weight of her gaze, the intensity of her desire, crushed you.
“Mel…” you finally said, your voice cold, almost detached—a wall you had built to protect yourself. “I’ve been clear from the start. You’ll never be Caitlyn. No one ever will.”
Mel recoiled slightly, as if your words had struck her like a physical blow. Her eyes shimmered with pain, but she said nothing. She simply stared at you, searching for solace, for some sliver of hope. But there was nothing you could give her.
“You’ve fallen in love with an idea that isn’t real,” you said firmly, each word leaving your lips like a dagger. “No one will ever make me love again the way I loved her. I’m not a hero. I’m not a savior. I’m not what you’re looking for. What I can give you will never be enough.”
Mel opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. She was processing, grasping for a way to undo what had just been said, to rewrite your words, to make them her own. But the words were already spoken. There was no turning back.
At last, the chill of your voice broke her.
“Then… what are we? What have I been to you?” she asked, her voice trembling, her body rigid, as though she wanted to run but couldn’t.
You stepped closer, though you made sure to keep an emotional distance. She needed to understand, no matter how much it hurt.
“What we are is nothing, Mel,” you said with unflinching resolve. “You and I are nothing. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.”
The air between you grew heavier, almost unbearable. The words hung in the room like a dense fog, enveloping everything around you. Mel stood frozen, her eyes brimming with a mixture of sorrow and disbelief. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped. It seemed she couldn’t fully process what you had just told her.
You knew those words were the cruelest you’d ever spoken, but they were also the most necessary. You couldn’t keep dragging Mel into a love you couldn’t reciprocate, and you couldn’t keep seeing her as someone she wasn’t.
She could never replace what you had lost with Caitlyn, and you couldn’t keep fooling yourself—or her.
Turning away, you let the silence between you grow. As you walked toward the exit, a knot tightened in your stomach. The words exchanged between you wouldn’t change anything. Perhaps the chasm between you was deeper than either of you had ever imagined.
Mel would never fully understand what you had lost or what it had cost you to get here. And even if you wanted to, you couldn’t give her more.
The silence of those three days was torment itself. The gallery room, the paintings, the space you shared—it all remained, untouched, like an open wound refusing to heal. Time crept by sluggishly, as though the world itself had come to a halt. Mel didn’t seek you out. She had been shattered, and the image of her face—confused, hurt, and broken—lingered in your mind like a ghost. You knew what you’d said had been necessary, but you also knew it had fractured something deep within her. You never intended to hurt her, but some truths, no matter how cruel, serve as shields. And this wall you had built was meant to protect you both.
By the third day, when you thought you might finally begin to breathe without the weight of her gaze, she appeared.
Mel stood at the door of your apartment. Her eyes were red, swollen from what must have been hours—perhaps days—of crying. Her face was drawn, and when she finally spoke, her voice was as fractured as her composure, trembling under the weight of words that seemed to cost her everything.
"I need to talk to you," she said, her voice trembling.
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You simply looked at her, and for a fleeting moment, the world vanished. There was only her—the woman who had stormed into your life with all the force of a tempest, leaving you unsteady in her wake. And now, that tempest seemed extinguished, leaving behind nothing but the vulnerability you had feared seeing.
"I know I overstepped—I didn’t respect your space when you needed it, I know that," she began, her hands clenched tightly at her sides, as though bracing herself. "But I can do better. I can’t let this end like this, Zephyr. I can’t let us hang in this void."
Her eyes glistened with a determination that made you hesitate. It was as if she was clawing for a lifeline, pleading silently for forgiveness—for the chance to undo what had already been done. Yet, instead of retreating, she stepped closer, her words growing more desperate, more raw.
"I—I love you. Do you understand? I love you," she said, her voice cracking under the weight of the confession. "I’ve tried, but I can’t live without you. I’ve thought about it, over and over, and I can’t leave this unfinished. I need us to matter."
You stood frozen, her words hanging in the air like shards of glass. Part of you wanted to reach for her, to tell her what she wanted to hear. But fear—fear of causing her more pain—anchored you to the spot.
"Mel..." you whispered finally, your voice soft, yet laced with a coldness you couldn’t suppress. "I warned you from the start—not to fall in love with me."
The words lingered in the space between you, and for a moment, you thought she might not understand. But the light in her eyes didn’t fade. Instead, her gaze grew more intense, as though she were searching for a crack, a weakness, a way to prove you wrong.
"But why? Why not?" she pressed, her hands now reaching out to you, as if trying to pull you back to her, back to the love she so desperately clung to. "We can go to London. We can start fresh, together. I need to return to my work there, but I won’t leave you behind. I promised myself I wouldn’t. Come with me—everything will change. I’ll make sure you never regret it. Please, just say yes. Say yes to me."
Her words hung in the air, shimmering with promises of a future that felt more like a dream than reality. London, a fresh start, a new chapter—it all sounded so perfect, as though the past could be erased with one step forward. But you knew better. You knew you couldn’t escape the truth of what you felt—or didn’t feel.
"Mel," you sighed, letting the carefully built walls around your heart crumble. "It’s not about any of that. I don’t care if you leave or stay. I have my life here, and I’m happy in my own way. I don’t need you, Mel—I never did. And you don’t need me either. No one needs someone else to survive. It feels that way now, but in time, you’ll see I was right."
She took another step toward you, her eyes searching yours desperately, as if willing you to change your mind. But all you could do was hold her gaze, unable to offer the solace she craved.
"I care about you, Mel," you continued, your voice heavy with sorrow, "but not the way you care about me. Not the way you need me to. I can’t keep being the lifeline you’re grasping at. I told you not to fall for me because I knew I couldn’t be what you wanted."
Her breath hitched, and the raw anguish in her eyes was almost unbearable.
"Then what am I to you?" she asked, her voice a fragile whisper. "What have I been to you, if not what I hoped?"
You held her gaze, searching for the right words, but none would come. You couldn’t tell her she had been nothing more than an illusion—a reflection of what she wanted to see. And yet, you knew you couldn’t keep pretending to be something you weren’t.
"You are someone who brought light into my life," you said at last, your tone as heavy as hers. "Someone who gave me moments of joy, of companionship. I’ve learned from you, Mel. But that’s not enough. I can’t be what you’re looking for. I’m not who you think I am."
Her expression shattered further, the pale mask of her face cracking under the weight of your words. Her lips trembled as she struggled to respond, to find some ground to stand on in the midst of your rejection.
"What do you want from me?" she asked finally, her voice breaking. "What can I do to make you see how much I love you? What more can I give?"
"Let me go," you replied softly, each word carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid truths. "Let me go, so you can find what you truly need. It isn’t me."
The silence between you became suffocating. The air itself felt heavier, the moment unbearable in its finality. She stood frozen, as though the world had stopped around her, unable to process what you had just said.
You took a slow breath, knowing what you had to do next.
"Tell me," you said, your voice steady, though tinged with sadness, "what’s my favorite color?"
She blinked, stunned by the question. Her gaze flitted across your face, searching for an answer, for some clue. But you both knew she didn’t know.
The silence stretched, and finally, she admitted it. She didn’t know.
That was all the proof you needed.
You smiled softly, the gesture laced with sorrow.
"You don’t know me, Mel," you said gently. "You’re not in love with me. You’re in love with the idea of me—the version of me you’ve created in your mind. Not the real me."
Before her, your figure stood firm, distant—a shadow fading slowly into the past.
No more words were needed. Everything had already been said, each syllable carving the path to this inevitable moment. The goodbye had been silently written long before, and now the last chapter was closing. Mel’s heart thundered in her chest, a pain blossoming within her that defied words. So much remained unspoken, so many pleas hovered on her lips, yet none escaped. She knew the truth—this ending was already written, and no force in the world could rewrite it.
You stepped toward her, and though the storm inside threatened to consume her, Mel didn’t move, didn’t speak. How she wished for simplicity, for perfection—for you to look at her with the same love that she had poured into you endlessly. But reality painted a different picture.
With a gentleness that was almost cruel in its tenderness, you kissed her cheek. The touch, fleeting as it was, carried the weight of an eternity. Mel closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the gesture seep into her skin. But it wasn’t the kiss itself that shattered her—it was the sadness behind it, the resignation of a love that had never flourished the way she had dreamed.
“Thank you for everything,” you said, your voice steady yet distant. “For all that we shared. But this... it can’t continue.”
Mel’s eyes searched yours, desperate for a flicker of doubt, a hint that perhaps this wasn’t final. But all she found was determination—unyielding and absolute—lodging itself into her chest like a dagger.
She couldn’t understand. She couldn’t accept it.
“Why?” she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling under the weight of her anguish.
You hesitated, your gaze softening momentarily. Then, stepping back, you looked at her with a bittersweet blend of sorrow and resolve. It was as if everything Mel had ever sought in you, every piece of the connection she had tried to weave, was now slipping through her fingers like sand.
“I don’t want you to keep waiting for something I can’t give,” you began, your tone firm but tinged with regret. “I don’t want you to waste your time. Time is precious, Mel. And I can’t change who I am, nor do I want to. Not for you, not for anyone. The healthiest thing for both of us is to say goodbye and move on with our lives—as we were always meant to.”
The words hit her like a tidal wave, the air rushing from her lungs as though the ground had been pulled out from under her. Goodbye? Was this truly it? Could everything they had built, everything they had shared, crumble so easily in a single breath?
“No!” she cried out, her voice rising involuntarily, as if sheer desperation could bend fate. But the plea felt hollow, echoing in the void between them. There was nothing left to salvage.
You studied her for a long moment, your expression unreadable. There was no anger in your eyes, only the quiet sorrow of someone bidding farewell to a dream that had never truly been theirs. Mel’s tear-filled gaze searched for answers, for something—anything—that could stop this unraveling. But all she found was silence.
It was over.
Mel swallowed hard, feeling a fracture deep within her soul. She couldn’t let the despair consume her, couldn’t let the pain define her. And yet, it did. It was as if the weight of the universe had descended upon her, every emotion—grief, abandonment, inadequacy—crashing over her all at once.
You turned away, your steps carrying you toward the door. The finality of it hung in the air like a storm cloud. Mel remained frozen, unable to move, unable to speak. She could only watch as the last vestiges of what she had cherished slipped away.
At the threshold, you paused. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though you might turn back, as though the story might still change. But you didn’t. Instead, you sighed softly, your back to her, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the space between you.
“Goodbye, Mel,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath. And with that final whisper, you disappeared, leaving her alone with the emptiness, the ache, and the reality that nothing could be undone.
Mel stood there in the stillness, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the room. Minutes passed before she finally moved, retreating into the solitude of her home. The quiet enveloped her, and the weight of your absence pressed down with unbearable force. Something inside her had shattered, something she knew could never be made whole again.
By the next morning, Mel was at the airport, her ticket to London clutched tightly in her hand. The cold city air greeted her as she stepped off the plane, biting against her skin as if to remind her she was still alive. But inside, she felt hollow.
In her hand, she held a postcard—a picture of the Greek isles, the sea and mountains stretching endlessly. It was one of the few remnants of you she still possessed, a fragment of the life you had once shared. Staring at it, a phrase echoed in her mind, as clear as if you had whispered it in her ear:
“Promise me that you won’t fall in love with me.”
And in that moment, something broke entirely. It was the hardest truth she had ever faced, the truth she had buried deep within her heart. She had never been enough. She would never be enough.
But she accepted it. With a heart fractured but resolute, she accepted it. And as she stepped into the crowd, she understood a lesson she had always known: some stories do not end happily. Peace is not always attainable. But at least the love she had felt was real, even if it had not been returned.
#arcane x reader#arcane au#arcane fanfic#arcane imagine#arcane smut#arcane x female reader#arcane#arcane fluff#arcane x you#mel medarda#mel x reader#mel arcane#mel smut#mel fanfic#mel league of legends#mel my beloved#wlw writing#wlw
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Metanoia ;
Aemond Targaryen x Transmigrated!Strong!Reader
>> Chapter VI : The End of the Beginning.
Summary: Things begin to quickly escalate.
WARNINGS: canon typical incest, angst, grief, mentions of child loss, aegon is a dick.
A/N: divider creds to @cafekitsune
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Everything was moving way too quick for your liking. You thought your marriage pact to Aemond would prevent the war, yet it seems like it's inevitable. You felt nothing but despair watching Aegon walk through the crowd of people, for his coronation.
You knew what was next, Rhaenys would burst through the doors and leave right after threatening them, so you wait anxiously, standing next to Aemond.
But nothing happens.
Rhaenys didn't appear and the coronation went smoothly.
What was happening?
You were escorted back to the castle with guards around you till you reached your room, knowing that the blacks would try to come get you any moment. The greens were on guard.
A few days passed since then, Rhaenys’ absence shocked you the most. You had written a letter to your mother, informing your mother of the happenings.
You paced around your chamber restlessly, anxious about how the story is developing, it seems that your interference made everything worse.
Perhaps it was always meant to be this way, for everyone to be doomed. You thought of Luke, Aemond, Helaena, and all the lives that were taken away because of this war.
You never really acknowledged how real everything was until you felt the taste of potential calamity. Your head snaps to the side when the doors burst open, the guards rushing in and grabbing you.
“W—What are you doing?!” You yell, trying to fight the guards but they say nothing, dragging you out of your chambers by force and out into the hallway.
You are brought down to where the dungeons are, below the castle before being thrown into one as the guards lock the door. You look at Ser Cole who was one of the people that guard you down here. He looked at you with a mockery of pity.
“It was the King's orders.” He speaks, noticing the need for closure in your eyes. Your eyes widened at the truth, lips trembling as you felt useless. Unable to change anything, if in fact everything is more shit.
“What about Aemond? I need to speak to him right now!” You cry out, and Ser Cole shakes his head, “He had called off the betrothal with you.” Those words felt a stab to your heart.
He called it off? No it definitely couldn't be.
Aemond wouldn't do that without consulting you first.
But deep down, you feared that it would be the truth, cause the body you're in believes that to be the case. He was a man stuck to his duty after all.
“Your betrothal to Y/N should be annulled immediately.” Aegon's voice booms through the small council as he sits there on the chair, somehow making coherent decisions. Aemond had just walked in then, immediately being met with a command.
“Why?” Aemond asks in disbelief, his eyebrows furrowed. “I can not, she is— I do not wish to.” Aemond affirms his decision standing tall against at the end of the table, seeming as though he was the king, making decisions.
Aegon scoffed, “You dare defy the king? But I will excuse you, for you are my brother. I'm aware that cunt must've felt good. But it isn't beneficial for the war.” Aegon spews comically, expecting everyone to laugh with him but no one does. Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat as she watches the interaction between her sons.
Aemond grits his teeth, his anger oozing off him, suffocating everyone in the room. He clenches his fists, nails digging into his palm as he tries to not move impulsively.
“Aegon, is right.” Alicent interferes, not making eye contact with Aemond. “Marrying her will not do any good. We must use this to gain allies. Besides, who knows what Rhaenyra might do. Now that her child is with us.” She simply states, avoiding the gaze of Aemond.
His eyes darted around the room, everybody was silent.
His mind ran wild, as he stood there still, thinking of the possibilities, thinking about everything.
He swallowed a tight lump in his throat, and the next words that left his mouth, betrayed both himself and you.
“I understand.”
————————————————————————
Rhaenyra's sobs fill the room as she clutches her head, her council looking upon her. “I can't lose another child. I'm afraid I cannot bear it.” She quivers, her body still traumatized from losing her unborn child.
She refers to you. “My baby, I can not. lose. her. again.” her mind fills with the memories of you being asleep for many years, the nights she's spent by your side hoping you'd wake up.
“I am not a good mother, am I? Daemon. I left my child in the viper's nest, even though you were against it.” Rhaenyra stared at Daemon, her mind in shambles. He gazed in silence at her. She was going mad. She couldn't keep calm.
“Those traitors! How could they? Has there been any other letter from her?” She asks as soon as a guard walks in, the one who she planted as a spy.
“The princess has been thrown into the dungeons,” those words were enough to send Rhaenyra spiralling out of control, as she yelled at everyone to take immediate action. She will burn down the city if she needs to.
“And it seems that they have called off the betrothal.” He finishes and Daemon scoffs. “Those cunts.” Daemon mutters underneath his breath.
“We must wait.” Jacaerys speaks up, unable to see his mother spiral like this. “Mother, I am aware that you are worried about our sister, but we need to deal with this sensitively.” He tries to be the voice of reason for her. Luke joins in, holding his mother by her hand and she stares at the both of them before calming down.
Rhaenyra's eyes darken as the last of her tears fell down her cheek. Her mind reeling up a plan, before she toughens up and focuses on the matter before her.
————————————————————————
Aemond left the keep on his horse, going to the forest where Vhagar was sleeping soundly. He goes near her, grazing her sides and she wakes up, feeling her rider near her.
He climbs on top of her, knowing the direction he was meant to go. And so he does, flying off in the direction.
The duty felt heavy on his shoulders, but the betrayal even worse, you must be so confused on what is going on. After the betrothal with the baratheon, he will fly back to you and explain everything.
Yes, it is what he will do.
You probably felt lonely, all alone in your chamber, he should've probably told more guards to protect you before he left but he shakes his head, hoping that you'd be alright.
Ironic how far he was from the truth. He had no idea that you were currently suffering in the dungeons.
The gut feeling was malicious, warning him that he is doing something wrong, but he tried shaking it off. It wouldn't budge. It got so worse to the point he felt nauseous.
He thinks for a minute.
His eye hardens as he takes deep breaths, the weight of betrayal suddenly lifting off, and the pressure of duty fade into nothingness as he commands Vhagar to fly the other direction, spinning her around.
To dragonstone it is.
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