#mentioned somewhere i wanted to show other people interacting with her as well

[xshrimpcake]

the platnearl beebo

[athenamikaelson]

Written in the Stars

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 1

Word Count- 4.3k

Warnings- Swearing, blood, death, panic attacks, mentions of the confederacy (ew)

A/N- This will be a slow-burn series.

The reader has a brother, I know it’s not very X Reader, but it’s to help the storyline.

I brush down the black tie my younger brother is wearing, the satin fabric making me slightly cringe. 

“Are you sure you’re not going to go? We can go show those stuffy old bitches how to really party.” I let out a small huff at Theo’s question, shaking my head amusingly. 

“I’d rather not spend my Friday night with a bunch of Mystic Falls’ elite. Hearing them talk about how they’re so proud of their southern heritage,” Both my brother and I let out sounds of disgust, “the Confederates lost get over it.”

Theo stands in front of the hallway mirror and goggles himself. Where I am rather introverted, my younger brother is most likely the most self-confident person I have ever met. He has called himself, “A gift to the human race,” on more than one occasion. So it takes him about a good 9 minutes to gaze at himself in the mirror before we walk out the front door to the car. 

We drive in silence, or I drive in silence as Theo hypes himself up in the passenger side mirror. 

After a 10-minute drive that seems to have taken at least twice that time, we finally reach the long driveway of the mayor’s house. 

“Why are you even going to this masquerade thing anyways, you hate dances,” I ask him as we wait behind a line of cars.

“Tyler is my football captain, and this thing is to honor his father, I’m here for my fellow man,” Theo presses a fist to his chest and puts on a fake sympathy look.

“So you’re actually doing it because you want to get on Tyler’s good side so he puts you on Varsity?”

Theo’s sympathetic look drops and is replaced with a shit-eating grin, “You know me so well.”

As we get to the front of the line of cars, I hum along to the Coldplay song playing on the radio.

“So what are you going to do while waiting for me?”

I pull my car up to the front of the “house” which is really just a mansion. 

“I have a feeling you won’t be here very long, or stay out of trouble so I’m just going to park somewhere and wait for you.”

My brother does a look that looks like he agrees with me about him getting into trouble and nods his head in agreement. I put the car in park and Theo unbuckles his seat and gets out, straightening out his suit as he goes.

“Bye nerd, don’t wait up!” Theo yells as he climbs the stairs walking past Mystic Falls’ elite. I let out a sigh and pull away to find a parking spot. 

—

My fingers graze the pages of my book as I glance at the time, Theo has been here for over an hour now and hasn’t shown any signs of leaving. I bring my back up to continue reading when a figure in the distance catches my eye. I lean forward and catch a glimpse of who I believe is Elena Gilbert. Elena’s a popular girl in my grade, who I’ve probably had two interactions within my short time here in Mystic Falls. I don’t know much about her other than that she’s dating some guy named Stefan, her parents died in a car accident and her brother is in the same grade as Theo. Theo and Elena’s brother don’t hang out either because Theo says he’s a “stoner emo.” Theo’s never been one to keep his thoughts to himself. 

Elena seems to walk with a slight limp which makes me slightly concerned but nothing to make me go out and try to talk to her. I hate talking to people in general, especially kids my age. Elena has always seemed nice but I’m not taking the risk.

 Or at least I wasn’t until I saw a man in a mask start following behind her. I may hate interacting with people but I would never let another girl get attacked if I had the power to stop it. The next thing I know I’m hopping out of my car and jogging behind them. 

“Elena behind you!” I yell to her, but I freeze as the man hits her and knocks her to the ground. I let out a yelp as I turned to try to get help but a sharp pain hits my skull and everything goes black. 

—-

“Y/N, can you hear me?” A voice comes from above me and a wave of nausea washes over me. My eyes open and close a dozen times trying to get used to the bright light before I can focus on the person in front of me. Elena Gilbert. Why is Elena Gilbert in my bedroom?  I mean she’s really pretty and all I just thought she had a boyfriend. I’m not a homewrecker. 

“Oh thank god you’re awake!” Elena whisper-yells to me as she brushes a piece of my hair behind my head and grimaces when she looks at my forehead. She brings her hand back and a wave of fear and disgust washes over me as I see her hand covered in a red liquid. Blood. My blood. I try to bring my hand up but Elena stops me.

“Don’t exert yourself we don’t want it to bleed more, okay?” She gives me a small smile but something about it makes me feel uneasy. I don’t understand why until I turn my gaze away from her and look at our surroundings. Dirt-covered walls, glass-covered floors, and a mildew stench are what take focus. I’ve always been sensitive to smells but with the addition of my raging migraine, I am fighting the urge to keep down the rising bile in my throat. 

My breathing starts to quicken and I can feel the start of a panic attack starting to make an appearance. 

“Elena, where are we?” I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t understand what I was saying since my words seemed to be jumbling together. 

Elena glances around us and gives me a solemn look.

“I don’t know, I woke up here a little while ago before I was knocked back out by the people that took us. I’m truly sorry about this Y/N, I would never wish for you to be a part of this.”

I furrow my eyebrows at her last comment as if she were responsible for the reason we were taken.

“It’s not your fault,” I shake my head and start tapping my fingers together one by one. It’s a thing I do whenever my anxiety gets too strong, almost as a way to ground me. 

Elena’s eyebrows mirror mine and she goes to say something but a young man with shaggy hair walks in.

“Oh goody, the other ones awake. How are you doing sleeping beauty?” 

The man starts to walk over to me with a look in his eyes that makes the bile in my throat inch even closer to the surface. But within another second Elena stands from beside me on what I can see now is a couch and blocks me from the man’s view.

“I’m the one you want, Y/N is innocent, just let her go.” 

I want to back Elena up and defend her too but with the migraine and the onslaught of emotions I’m feeling right now being verbal isn’t something I see happening in my current future. 

“You’re right Dopalicious, she’s not, but I can’t just let her go, what if she were to go and warn those friends of yours? Can’t let that happen now can we?” 

Elena goes to stand her ground but within a blink of an eye, Elena is shoved backward and lands on the other side of the couch. I jump backward at the action which gives the man the opportunity to come in front of me. I start trembling as I look up to him I try to push farther back into the couch but I’m squished into it as far as I can go. 

“Stay away from me,” Finally able to find somewhat of my voice again. This doesn’t seem to scare away the man, and honestly, I don’t blame him. My voice sounded like it came from a scared 5-year-old. 

“Just a taste, I’m starving.” My mouth opens to question what he says but a millisecond later I feel myself being grabbed and a sharp piercing attacks the left side of my neck. I’m hyperventilating and screaming at the same time somehow as I hear Elena’s yells from beside us. 

“Don’t touch her!” Elena’s yell comes from beside us and I’m thrown away back onto the couch. I’m disorientated as I look up to see the man before me rubbing his cheek and Elena standing next to him holding her right hand. She’d punched him. My vision strays from Elena’s red knuckles back up to the man, who has something dripping from his mouth. My chest feels like it locks up as I stare at the liquid dripping, everything seems to be going in slow motion for me as I watch the drops start at the man's chapped lips to the drops of blood falling onto the cracked hardwood floors. Wait, blood. He has blood dripping from his mouth. Had Elena punched him that hard? I start to believe that possibility until I feel a wetness drip between my chest. 

My already shaking hand comes up to my chest as I swipe a finger along the liquid. My vision blurs as the red liquid drips from my fingertip down into the palm of my hand. I can’t register Elena’s voice as she kneels in front of me and presses something to my neck. The blood coating my hand is all I can see and smell. 

“Y/N….Y/N! Just focus on my voice ok, breathe. I think you’re having a panic attack.” A cool hand is pressed onto the side of my face and I close my eyes at the embrace. 

“Ok that’s good, I’m going to stand you up to get a better look at your neck ok?” 

I feel like I’m running on auto-pilot or something else is controlling my body and mind as I stand up and grip Elena’s upper arms to keep myself steady. Elena returns the pink fabric from my neck and leans down to glance at the wound.

“Ok, it’s not as bad as I had originally thought. Just keep this here and it’ll help control the bleeding.” 

I must still be in shock because Elena has to bring the shirt to my hand, wrap my fingers around it, and finally press my hand into my neck. The shock of pain washes through me and brings me back to reality. My vision can’t seem to focus on one thing for too long as my eyes keep darting from the blood on the floor, my blood, to the look on Elena’s face, to the man standing behind us with a scowl on his ugly face. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. This sequence continues until another person enters the room, a woman.

“He’s here.” The woman with a pixie cut says, her voice seemingly scared.

The man next to us shifts his scowl into a look of pure fear.

“This was a mistake,” He rushes over to the woman and shakes his head. 

“No, I told you I would get us out of this. You have to trust me,” She tries to talk him down which only seems to freak him out more.

“No! He wants me dead Rose,”

The woman points at Elena, “He wants her more.” I glance to Elena who is standing in front of me slightly as if to hide me from the two strangers or cannibals. Since I’ve calmed down momentarily and I’ve begun to stop the tears that had unbeknownst to me had fallen on my cheeks, I’ve realized that I’ve been kidnapped by cannibals, that being the only reasonable explanation I can come up with.

The two cannibals start arguing about some man but I turn to Elena who looks almost as scared as I feel. 

“What’s going on Elena, who’s coming?” I whisper to her.

Elena turns her head slightly to me and gives me a frown and a shake of her head. 

“A man named Elijah, but don’t worry ok,” Elena grabs my free hand and holds it in her own, “I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore ok?”

I nod trying to find comfort in her words but the girl in front of me is 17 years old and maybe 120 pounds I don’t see how she’s going to protect us both from two cannibals and whatever mega cannibal these two are terrified of. I don’t know if the other guy is a cannibal but using context clues I’m guessing he is. 

“What are we?” The woman’s voice brings my attention back to them as I see her grab his arms. This seems to calm the man down. 

“We’re family. Forever.” 

I might’ve found this endearing if it weren’t for the fact the man had my blood drying on his upper lip and they were literal cannibals. 

A loud knock startles all four of us as Elena and I both shoot each other wary glances. Our hands are still intertwined. I don’t usually like being touched but given the circumstances I can let this slide. 

The woman looks over at Elena and me as Elena slightly turns her head, “You’re scared.” Elena comments. The woman says something else to her friend and then runs up the stairs 

—

What seems like forever of waiting and pacing around is broken up by footsteps coming from the top of the banister. I can feel Elena freeze up from beside me as we both look up to see a man in a suit staring down at her. The man has dark hair and eyes and a chiseled face. Why is this cannibal not ugly? Wrong Turn had it all wrong. We all stand there watching Elena and the suited cannibal stare at each other. I can feel Elena’s shaking hand in my own and try to comfort her by squeezing her hand to let her know I’m right beside her. That is until the man transports himself from the top of the banister to in front of Elena in the blink of an eye. The movement has me losing my balance and falling back onto the couch. 

No one seems to notice me as my panic attack starts to build up as I try to understand how this is possible. How could he have been that fast, it’s impossible. Oh god, I'm going to throw up. 

“And who is this?” A deep voice comes from above me and my stomach flips at the sound. Defiantly going to throw up. 

“She’s no one. She has nothing to do with this, just please leave her alone.” 

Hearing Elena’s voice makes me raise my head and I regret it instantly because I lock eyes with the suited monster who is now standing above me staring down at me. The man’s face instantly goes slack as his eyes meet mine, a look of recognition seems to pass through his dark eyes as they move fast across my face. The man opens and closes his mouth many times as if he can’t quite find the right words to say. The slack expression from before softens into something that makes my stomach flip again. This guy is so going to kill me when I throw up on his expensive ass shoes. His soft, dark pink lips curve up at the corners slightly.

“You’re real.” 

These are the first words to come out of the man’s mouth. Everyone else in the room seems to know just as much as me with what he’s talking about because they all have looks of confusion on their faces. Feels somewhat comforting to be on the same page as everyone else for once. 

The man doesn’t once take his eyes off of me this entire time though, “What is your name, Elskan?” 

I freeze under his stare and try to avert my eyes, this gives Elena the ability to step in for me. 

“Her name is Y/N,” I look to the man as he mouths my name slightly to himself as if he wants to know how it sounds on his tongue, “Please don’t hurt her Elijah, she doesn’t even know about the supernatural, I’ll go with you willingly.” 

Elena’s words make me freeze up. What does she mean by supernatural? I flinch as the man, Elijah, brings his hand up. This stops him for a moment. 

“I would never harm you. You have my word on that.” I can only sit there frozen as he cups my face with his hand and uses his thumb to brush a stray tear away that must’ve fallen during one of my many panic attacks. He seems delighted at the moment until the soft expression he has on his face darkens into something that makes that bile rise even farther up. His eyes dart from the top of my head and drag themselves down to my chest and neck. I try to move away but his hand has a soft but firm hold on my face. 

“Who did this to you?” 

My eyebrows furrow at his question, and I must’ve not answered quickly enough because he turns to glare at Elena. Which makes her flinch.

“The head injury is from the kidnapping and then the bite is from um,” she glances towards my neck and then to Trevor who looks like he’s about to internally combust. She goes silent again at Elijah’s stare and he turns his attention back towards me. The glare was long gone and replaced once again with a softer look.

“I see. Here,” I have to swallow back down the bile as I watch the man rip into his wrist and put it in front of my face expectantly. I sit there in horror and quickly look to Elena who doesn’t look as surprised as she defiantly should given that this man just BIT HIMSELF. 

“It’s true Y/N, it’ll heal you.” 

I open my mouth to say something which must’ve somehow been an ok to the man as he presses his wrist to my open mouth. I’m about to push him off, or at least try, but stop at the heavenly liquid that spills into my mouth. Elijah brings his other hand up to brush back my fallen hair.

  “Good girl, Elskan.” 

Elijah removes his wrist and I sit there silently staring at my lap as I realize what I had just done. I just drank fucking blood, and I liked it?!??! Oh god, does this make me a cannibal now?

Elijah seems to be fighting an inner battle as he moves his eyes away from mine and onto the man behind us. Elena and I watch before us as Elijah approaches the scared man/cannibal thing. Thing because I’m not sure what the actual hell is going on here. 

“I’ve waited so long for this day, Elijah. Truly very sorry.” 

Trevor says with a bowed head as Elijah circles him. Almost how a predator would circle its prey. 

“Well, no, your apology is not necessary,” Elijah responds but something in his tone doesn’t sit right with me.

“Yes, yes it is. You trusted me with Katerina. And I failed you.”

“Well, yes, you are the guilty one,” Elijah glances at him and then up to the woman, “And Rose aided you because she was loyal to you. That I honor…”

Elijah comes to stand in front of the man, “Where was your loyalty?”

“I beg your forgiveness.”

The oxygen in the room seems to be dwindling as everyone watches the interaction.

“So granted.” 

The deep breath I was to let out is replaced by a scream and I can only watch in horror as Elijah throws his hand over to the man who decapitates him. A heart-wrenching wail comes from Rose and I can’t seem to take my eyes away from the body-less head that is lying in front of me. 

“I’m going to-” Vomit spits from my mouth and onto the floor in front of me, the burning from the back of my throat causes tears to build up and block my vision. I feel someone lift my hand and hold it away from my face. For a second I thought it was Elena before Elijah’s voice came from beside me.

“I’m truly sorry, Elskan. I shouldn’t have done that in front of you.” 

I lift my head to stare at him and find him kneeling right next to me. He reaches into his front pocket grabs a fancy napkin and wipes my mouth with it. Not seeming disgusted just saddened. He wraps his hand in my mind and stands me up. 

“We can leave now, we have quite the journey ahead of us,” Elijah leads me over to where Elena is standing and motions for her to follow.

“No! What about the moonstone?” She questions him.

He stands in front of her with a small scowl, “What do you know about the moonstone?”

“I know that you need it. And I know where it is. I can help you get it”

Elijah nods his head, “Tell me where it is.” 

“It doesn’t work that way.”

Elijah’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance as he glances back at Rose, “Are you negotiating with me?”

Rose just shakes her head and tells him she doesn’t know anything. Elijah then turns back around to stare at Elena for a moment before scowling and reaching up to her necklace, ripping it off. 

“What is this vervain doing around your neck,” He throws the necklace behind him and grabs Elena by the neck, dropping my hand in the process. I go to try to get her away but Elijah shoots me a warning look that has me freezing in place, “Tell me where the moonstone is.”

In a monotone voice, Elena replies, “In the tomb underneath the church ruins.”

“What is it doing there?”

“It’s with Kathrine.”

The rest of their interaction is cut short when a glass shatters from somewhere upstairs. Elijah comes over to me and grabs me by my waist bringing me into him almost protectively. 

“What was that?” He asks Rose.

“I don’t know.”

“Who else is in this house?’’ To which he gets the same response. 

Elijah grabs Elena quite harshly with his free hand and guides both of us to the top of the banister. His hand never moved from the top of my hip. Once we make it to the entryway something rushes by us, Elijah pushes Elena off into Rose’s arms but never drops his hold on me. 

“Up here.”

“Down Here.”

A voice call from the top and bottom of the stairs caught all of our attention. Elijah lifts his hand from my hip and motions for me to go over to Rose.

“Don’t let her out of your sight.” He warns her as he moves to the staircase. 

A moment goes by before something flies through the air and pierces itself through Elijah’s hand. I let out a yelp but Elijah doesn’t even seem fazed. 

My vision is blurred for a moment as I now standing next to Rose with an unfamiliar dark-haired man in front of us. He motions with his finger to be quiet. Ya as if I was going to say anything anyway. 

“Excuse me,” Elijah’s voice comes from below, “To whom it may concern. You’re making a grave mistake if you think that you can beat me. And you can’t. You hear that? I repeat, you cannot beat me. So I want the girls on the count of three, or heads will roll.” 

The man who has his hands on Rose’s and I’s mouths moves his head to glance at Elijah downstairs. 

“Do we understand each other?” 

“I’ll come with you,” I perk up at Elena’s voice. Wondering what the actual hell she was doing. But the blue-eyed man in front of me shakes his head at me telling me not to move. 

“Just please don’t hurt my friends. They just wanted to help me out.”

“What game are you playing with me? Where is Y/N? I won’t be leaving without her.” Elijah’s skeptical voice questions her. There’s a sound a medal, and then a loud boom,  before Elijah lets out a yell. The sound for some reason makes my chest feel like it wants to cave in on itself. Rustling and fighting sounds come from below us before the man holding Rose and I leave. Rose runs after him, but I can’t seem to get my feet to work so I just sit there on the dusty floor staring at the wall peeling wallpaper in front of me. 

A few moments pass before I hear Elena’s voice along with two unfamiliar men, one who I’m assuming is the blue-eyed guy from before. 

“Where is Y/N,” Elena asks.

“Are you talking about that girl that smells like vomit?” A snarky voice questions her. If I hadn’t just gotten kidnapped and had one of the worst days of my life, I might take offense but I did just get kidnapped and honestly, I do smell like vomit so he’s not wrong. 

“I think she’s over there.” 

Footsteps get closer to me as I look up with tears in my eyes at Elena. She gives me a small smile before kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug. 

“What is happening Elena?” 

“I’ll explain everything if you want me to ok? Let’s just get out of here first ok?”

Elena stands up and reaches down her hand for me to take, and with a deep breath, I do.

[bellaveux]

hi! could you please do one about reader x wanda on college where reader cheats on her boyfriend with wanda but wanda genuinely loves reader so much that she can’t help but want more?

DREAMING OF YOU | wanda maximoff x reader

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

genre: angst w/ happy ending, fluff, smut

summary: while being constantly ignored by your boyfriend, wanda decides to keep you company for the night and eventually, for the rest of the weeks that follow, wanting more than just sex with you and vows to show you the kind of love you truly deserve.

content warnings: minors dni! angst with happy ending, some fluff, college au!wanda maximoff x reader, artist!reader, wanda is in love, cheating, mentions of drinking, toxic boyfriend named tyler bc i didn’t know what else to name him, one smut scene; top!wanda, bottom!reader, oral and fingering (r receiving), praise kink

word count: 12.9k

note: i’m so sorry for the long wait, it was not supposed to take a whole month for me to write :( i also did not mean for this to be so long, i kind of got carried away, but i hope you like it!!

There used to be a time when your boyfriend would always tell you that he loved you, no matter what the conversation or situation was. You would always ask him why he did certain things for you; give you flowers, take you out to dinner, wanting to do everything with you, or even things like fight with you, annoy you. He would always say ‘Because, I love you,’ no matter what. And, you missed those times. You missed when he felt like he was a part of you when you were his top priority as he was yours. Now, somewhere down the road, you lost all of that with him. He only has the time to take you to parties, as a sort of accessory to keep by his side, then refuses to talk to you, and ignores you half of the time. 

You never liked the parties your boyfriend always dragged you to. They were loud, too crowded for your taste and your boyfriend always ended up finding some kind of excuse to leave you alone all by yourself as he mingled around. You feel lost and disconnected in places like this while your boyfriend revels in the chaos of social interactions, all while seemingly drowning himself in beer and alcohol. 

Your likeness for him had slowly dwindled down over time, and you wondered what had happened between the two of you for him to change so much from the man you used to be so fond of. 

And, no, Tyler didn’t always use to be such a jerk to you. In the beginning, he was kind, and gentle and seemed to be interested in whatever you were interested in. He was the kind to buy you flowers when he would think of you, take you on romantic dates in the city, and tell you he loved you every day. You liked him in the beginning, maybe even fell in love with him at some point—well, you couldn’t remember what that felt like with him anymore. 

Now, he barely even replies to your texts, answers your calls, ignores you when you try to talk to him, and leaves you alone at a party full of people you don’t recognize, just for him to go and play beer pong and chug an unhealthy amount of beer with the other guys on the football team. He even lets these random girls feel up on him and openly flirt with him from time to time now, forgetting all about the girl he dragged along with him, who was now glaring at him from across the room. He doesn’t even do anything to stop them, which only fuels your anger even more. 

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to him being this way. This behavior had gotten quite frequent as time went on, and you’ve always thought about breaking up with him. But, each time, he’d fool you with those sweet words and apologies, and tell you he’d be good for you, do better for you, tell you he loved you, and tell you that he wouldn’t know what to do without you. 

And, for some reason, you always fell for it.

You don’t know if it’s because you so desperately want to cling to the past — the past that you remember being so good and lovely. The times when he treated you right was like a dream and you always wanted to believe it could be that way again. Somehow. Because, you liked him. At least, you did then. It was hard to know because everything felt awkward, everything felt insincere. You knew that when the next morning comes, he’ll buy you flowers once again, tell you how sorry he was for accidentally leaving you, and give you that lame excuse that he couldn’t find you in that crowd of people. 

“I wanna leave, Tyler,” you told him, after tapping his shoulder to get his attention.

He turned to you and glared, stepping away from the circle of people that wrapped around the beer pong table, “Are you fucking kidding me? We just got here. Fuck. Go find something to do. I’ll take you home later.”

Truthfully, you were over it. You didn’t even bother talking back about it anyway, having done so plenty of times already and it always had the same outcome. 

After a while, you found yourself in the kitchen of the sorority house, holding your third cup of some cheap alcohol you found and poured for yourself, not really sure of what else you could do but drink. The living room had that lingering smell of weed and warm bodies, and it was beginning to hurt your head the longer you stood in there, making you retreat to the back of the house where the kitchen was. The fresh smell of some brownies in the oven filled the air, and it was much better for your head than everything else outside of this room. They were probably weed brownies, but they smelled better than what was out there. 

The thought of leaving by yourself had crossed your mind several times already, wondering if your boyfriend would even notice if you’d be gone. Who are you kidding? He wouldn’t. You liked to think he would sometimes—that he’d rush right after you when you stepped out the door, grab you by the wrist, and ask where you were going without him as if he cared. But, that would’ve been too good to be true. 

And, you were too caught up in your thoughts to have noticed the figure that walked up next to you.

Wanda leaned over against the counter, standing quite close to you, nudging your shoulder lightly. You could smell that faint scent of alcohol from her lips even though she hadn’t spoken yet. She wore a big suit jacket over a plain shirt that fit loosely on her and held a red solo cup of her own, shaking it slightly as if she was checking if there was anything still in there like she couldn’t remember if she had drank what was in her cup yet. 

Wanda saw you the moment you stepped into the sorority house, always cautiously watching the door for whoever walked in. After all, she lived here. She practically had her eyes on you all night, first noticing that bored look on your face when you walked in with that jerk you called your boyfriend. Then, she saw the rising anger fuming in your eyes when he walked away and left you alone to go hang out with his friends and other girls that he didn’t seem to mind. 

She never really understood what you saw in him. From all of the stories she’s heard from mutual friends to what she has seen now, he was a complete asshole. Sure, when she met you for the first time, you were a happy couple, and he was good to you that time ago. But tonight, it was different. He was different to you and it only seemed to further her opinion of him. 

It was maddening—the way he treated you. Wanda always found herself caught in a bittersweet daydream, one where she yearned to trade places with him, to be the one who could treat you with the love and care you truly deserved.

She had always loved you. From the moment you two met in your first year of college, Wanda had always loved you. With every interaction, every shared laugh, and every stolen glance, her feelings for you only deepened, growing into an unshakeable love that blossomed silently within her. You were perfect in her eyes; you were beautiful, kind-hearted, and talented, but you failed to recognize the fact that you deserved way better than what that stupid boyfriend of yours does for you. The love Wanda held for you became a quiet force that fueled her determination to be there for you, to support you, even if it meant remaining in the shadows.

And, deep down, you’ve feel as if you had always felt it. That love she had for you. You felt it when she would look at you, when she talked to you, and at first, you couldn’t tell what it was. She was a private woman, always so reserved, and never really dated properly within her time in college, other than a few flings and hookups here and there. 

But you saw it firsthand each time she smiled at you. 

Undeterred, Wanda angled her body towards you, the corners of her mouth turning upward in a determined smile. She positioned herself delicately, her face mere inches away from yours, so that you could hear her easily under the booming music, “What are you doing here alone?” 

“Nothing,” you shrugged, taking a sip from your cup, not even bothering to look up at her. “Just felt too crowded in there.”

Wanda nodded and glanced out of the doorway, the first floor of the house practically flooding with people left and right. She noticed that solemn look on your face when you answered your question.

“Isn’t that Tyler outside?” She asked, even though she already knew the answer to that question. She watched you nod, your eyes staring down into the liquid in your cup.“Shouldn’t you be out there with him?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you sighed and shook your head, “No, he’s… He’s playing. I wouldn’t be much help… It’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” Wanda countered, the levels of her own annoyance rising. “He’s being a shitty boyfriend.”

You didn’t say anything else and instead chewed on your bottom lip as you let her words sink in. He was, indeed, a shitty boyfriend, but hearing it out of someone else’s mouth felt bitter. Like you had to defend him in some way even though he treats you like shit. You knew that Wanda's assessment held a grain of truth, maybe a lot more than a grain, but your heart stubbornly clung to the remnants of love and loyalty you still felt for him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“No, it’s fine,” you tell her, immediately shaking your head as you glance out of the kitchen window, seeing your boyfriend down his drink in the backyard. “He’s just… busy.”

Wanda glanced out the window once more, eyes landing on your boyfriend. He was cheering, having won the same stupid game he was playing since he got here for the third time already, and he was probably drunk out of his mind right now, clearly not caring about the woman he had brought along with him. That woman being you. 

And she could never understand it. 

Wanda turned away and looked over at you. You stared down at your shoes out of boredom, seemingly waiting for something to happen at least. You wondered when your boyfriend would notice the fact that you’re even still here, waiting for the past hour and a half for him. But, every time you looked at him, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. 

“Do you want to go somewhere quiet?” Wanda leaned over and asked, scratching the back of her neck. “There’s less people upstairs… And it’s quiet in my room.”

Wanda didn’t know if it was the tiny bit of alcohol she had talking for her, but she couldn’t help but ask—not when someone as beautiful as you stood alone in her kitchen. 

“Your room?”

You took a moment to look past her shoulder again and over to the man you called your boyfriend, only to see him cheering on in front of the beer pong table with some other woman leaning close to him on his side. A sigh fell past your lips before turning back to look at Wanda. 

As your gaze shifted from the window to meet Wanda's eyes, a sudden hush fell upon you. Your heart skipped a beat as you found yourself caught in the vortex of an unwavering stare, one filled with undeniable affection. She was looking at you the entire time. She looked at you like you were the only one there—as if every person, every object, every sound had faded into the background, leaving only the two of you inside this house. An unexpected wave of shyness washed over you, a blush creeping up your cheeks, wondering about what you should say next. 

The gravity of Wanda's invitation to her room weighed heavily upon your conscience, knowing that accepting would lead you down an unfaithful path. A sense of moral obligation tugged at your heart, reminding her of the commitment you made to your boyfriend, who had now abandoned you once again. The knowledge weighed heavily on your heart, like an anchor that tugged at your sense of loyalty. You knew the dangerous allure that waited for you in her room. You very well understood the consequences, and how your heart might sway towards infidelity if you surrendered yourself completely to Wanda. 

With each passing second, your internal struggle intensified. But, why were you so worried about loyalty when the man you once loved seemed to have none for you? You recognized the injustice of your situation, feeling a bitter taste of resentment rise within you as you thought of your boyfriend's indiscretions, allowing himself to be swayed by the company of random women at a party. It was a betrayal in its own right—a crack in the foundation of your relationship.

You decided you didn’t want to see him anymore tonight. And Wanda had the power to do that for you. 

“Lead the way,” you said.

The woman’s eyes before you lit up at the sound of your words and with a tender smile, Wanda reached out, her hand extending towards you, a silent invitation for her to take you away from everything that worried you. You slipped your hand into hers, and with a gentle yet steady grip, her fingers interlaced with yours, beginning to pull you away and up the stairs. 

Wanda maneuvered through the crowd, sidestepping intoxicated individuals who seemed oblivious to the world beyond their own indulgence. Laughter and music washed over you as you reached the second floor and down the hall toward Wanda’s room. 

Your senses heightened as Wanda let you step into her private space, and you found herself instinctively pausing to take in your surroundings. Wanda made sure to not let your hand go, her thumb soothing over the back of your hand as you looked around. She stepped up behind you, gently resting her other hand on your hip as she pressed her front to your back softly. Your eyes swept across the room, drinking in the carefully curated collection of treasures that adorned each shelf and corner. The gentle hum of the music playing downstairs was muffled by the thick walls of Wanda’s room.

“Do you play?” You ask, eyes settling up the guitar by the side of her nightstand.

“Hmm, a bit,” she smiled as you raised your eyebrows, impressed at the fact. “I can show you any time you want. I can teach you.”

Her fingers brushed along the side of your waist, dancing along the fabric of your dress slightly as if she were forming guitar chords. Eventually, you let Wanda’s hands turn you around to face her, the soft scent of lavender filling the air as she leaned into you. 

“You look so pretty tonight, (Y/n),” she whispered, shamelessly staring at your lips.

Her gaze shifted from your mouth and into your eyes, and there you saw the gentle look she held solely for you. Wanda gently lifted the hand she held, guiding your fingertips to her lips, pressing light kisses against your knuckles. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“You already are,” you told her, the corners of your lips threatening to curve upwards.

Wanda smiled in return and brought her other hand up from your hip to your face, cupping your cheek and letting her thumb ghost over your bottom lip, “I mean… here.”

Her fingers trailed down to your jaw, “And right here.” To your neck, “And here.” Then, to your collarbone, “And… here.”

You sighed at the feeling of her feathery touches, closing your eyes as you relaxed in her hands. 

“Can I?” She repeated.

And for a moment, you took a second to look at the moment before you, your cheeks getting warm from Wanda’s actions. The warmth of her breath mingled with the sweet touch of her lips against your fingertips as she waited patiently for your answer for the second time tonight. As the words hung in the air, Wanda's gaze remained fixed on you, captivated by the emotions flickering across your face. In that moment, you appeared more enchanting to her than ever, having you so close to her for the first time, wanting to kiss those lips she’d been dreaming about for so long. 

“Yes, please,” you said. 

Wanda leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you, and softly pressed her lips against yours as she moaned. Every brush and hum of your lips sent shivers down Wanda's spine. Time became a distant concept as you lost yourself in her kisses. 

She slowly led you towards her bed, lips still pressed to yours. She had waited, with hope and uncertainty, for this moment to come. And finally, it was here. She’d show you. She’d show you how well she’d take care of you—how much better she could be than that boyfriend of yours. She’d give you everything you deserve. She’d prove it to you—change your mind, if possible, and have her be the only one to have and love you from now on.

Wanda pulled back after laying you down on her bed, staring down at you. She settled herself in between your legs and sighed at the feeling of your soft thighs under her hands. The sight of lips parting to catch your breath, your chest rising up and down, and your hair all over her pillows drove her crazy. Fuck. 

“Are you sure about this?” Wanda asked.

“Please.” You nodded, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with hers and squeezing them, “I want you, Wanda.”

Once she was positive that you were positive, Wanda pulled her shirt over off, shuffled closer to you, and gently brought your hands up above your head. She leaned down and placed a chaste kiss against your lips once more before traveling down to litter soft kisses against your jaw and your neck. Her body hovered over yours as you squirmed underneath her touches, whining slightly as she sucked on your skin. 

“Wait, Wanda,” you called out and she immediately stopped to look at you, patiently waiting for whatever you had to say. “Don’t leave any marks.” 

Wanda blinked, feeling a sense of disappointment wash over her chest. She was excited to mark you, litter hickeys all over your skin as a reminder that you were hers for the night. 

But she only bit her lip and nodded in return, “I won’t.”

After a beat, Wanda started kissing you once again. This time, her hands traveled downwards, running them along your thighs and up to where they met the hem of your velvety dress. She pushed the fabric upwards, your skin meeting the cold air inch by inch. Wanda was quick to provide warmth, squeezing the softness of your push thighs. 

Her kisses eventually made their way down to the valley of your breasts, letting one of her hands grope your tits. Wanda groaned into your body as you let your hands run through her red hair, tugging at them slightly when she squeezed your tit with her palms. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered against you.

Getting to worship you like this, manifesting your true desires to her, and her alone, felt like a constant dream. She had always imagined what it would be like to see you like this; a hot mess underneath her, moaning for her to touch you. And now that it was here, she never wanted to let it go. 

She’d imagine all the ways, all the positions she’d take you in, and make sure to take good care of you both always. She couldn’t wait to make you feel good. God, it was driving her insane. She couldn’t wait to have you. She wanted to make you see how much better she would be for you. And if there was one thing she wanted more than this; it was time. She wanted this to last forever. She wanted to eliminate all of the chances that could make you slip away from her grasp. 

But you were here now, and she vowed to make it the best you’ve had with the time she was dealt with. 

Her hands squeezed your thighs slightly as she stared down, “Spread those legs for me, sweetheart?” 

Wanda kneeled and leaned down the moment your knees parted, the sight of your drenched laced panties coming into view from underneath your dress. Without a second thought, Wanda pressed the pads of her index and middle finger against the soaked fabric. With half-lidded eyes, she couldn’t help but lean down, pressing her nose against your clothed pussy.

“How are you this perfect?” Wanda sighed against your cunt, her fingers moving the fabric to the side to look at your wetness. 

“Wanda…”

She looked up from in between your legs and licked her lips eagerly, “Yes, baby?”

“Hurry, please,” you whined. You couldn’t wait anymore. “I need you.”

Wanda felt her knees go weak when she heard those words. The sound of your voice, her name coming from your mouth, your hands in her hair… It was all too, perfect—you were so perfect.

After moments of admiring the sight of you in her bed, Wanda finally hooked her thumbs under your panties and dragged them slowly down your legs, making sure you were watching as she did so. The moment they came off, Wanda dove head first in between your legs, dragging the flat of her tongue through your folds. Firm and long licks switched into quick, fast kitten licks against your clit that had your thighs shaking around her head in a matter of seconds. You threaded your hands into her hair, moaning at the suddenness of her attack against your cunt. You dripped your sweet juices onto her tongue, causing her to moan softly against your clit, sending vibrations through your body. 

“Tastes so fucking good, baby.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Wanda rolled her eyes to the back of her head, the taste of heaven filling her mouth. She moaned, lips and chin covered in her spit and your slick as she continued to eat you out. 

“Wanda!” You whined as she wrapped her mouth around your clit and sucked. 

The sight of your jaw dropping and your eyes rolling to the back of your head when she introduced her fingers into the mix was something she wanted to see over and over and over again. She carefully prodded your entrance with her middle finger, sucking onto your clit gently, teasing you by slipping barely an inch into you then pulling back out to rub you softly. As she did so, she could feel your hips buck and your legs tense up around her head as she hummed against your clit with a smile on her face. 

You were soaking wet, dripping your juices all over the covers of her bed. Carefully, she slipped a single finger into you all the way down to her knuckle. She then curled it, emitting the loudest whine you let out for her tonight. She continued to curl her finger over and over, occasionally giving your clit some attention, sucking slightly and licking it gently as your orgasm started to build. 

“Mmmph, fuck, Wanda, I—"

Her green eyes watched as you withered against her bed, because of her mouth, to taste you like this, and hear your delicious moans fall past your lips. She slipped a second finger into you, your velvety walls wrapping around her digits, coating them with your slick as you moaned into her pillow and pulled at the sheets. 

“That’s it, (Y/n),” she stared up in awe as she watched your head fall back into the pillow, moaning at the feeling of her digits moving inside of your pussy. “Keep on making those noises for me, beautiful.”

Her two fingers that were swallowed inside your warmth began to speed up the moment she wrapped her lips around your clit once more, and sucked as hard as she could. You screamed into her pillow, trying to close your legs shut, engulfing her head with your plush thighs. Wanda decided that this was the best way to go; suffocating between your legs with the taste of your juices on her tongue. 

Soon, your voice faded out and your moans became more like gasps and hiccups for air. Wanda closed her eyes, her mouth pulling away to move up your body, resting her lips against your neck as her breath fans across your skin. You whined and clawed at her back deliciously as Wanda pumped and pumped her fingers in and out of you at a faster pace. She could hear all of your juices squelching down there because of her fingers and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes back and moan at the sounds filling her room. She felt as if she was in heaven. 

Wanda’s eyes, her pupils blown out from lust and darkened in desire didn’t help either, as the wetness between your legs only seemed to pool more and more as she fucked into you.

“I’m gonna cum, Wanda—“

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” She whispered in your ear, grunting against the side of your face as she pumped into you harder with her thumb pressing harshly in circles against your clit. 

Your orgasm hit hard, a sharp cry coming from your throat as you came, arching your back as Wanda slowed her movements. The sound of your cry sent shock waves straight down to her own core, and her eagerness to move inside of you, pressing against that spot in your pussy caused you to gasp and cry out again, shaking violently as you came around her fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” Wanda groaned against your neck, breathing heavily against you as you trembled in her bed. God, she wished she could make love to you forever. 

And knowing that she couldn’t, Wanda made use of the time she had left for the rest of the night and fucked you for as time would allow her until the two of you grew tired and passed out on her bed. 

Wanda held you close, pulling her blankets over you, naked bodies pressed together as you slept for the rest of the night. She savored the precious moments the two of you shared, knowing that her time with you was fleeting and she might not get a chance as good as this. She took some time to watch as you slept for a bit, her heart swelling with the feeling of you against her. It felt perfect, like you were made to fit right into her arms. 

But a bittersweet reality loomed over Wanda's thoughts, a reminder that you belonged to another, your heart already spoken for by a distant boyfriend. The one person she envied, deeming him unworthy of your love. She wondered what it would be like to claim the entirety of your heart, to be the one who could provide solace and security for you in every waking moment, and not just for tonight. 

Wanda's eyes traced the delicate curve of your cheek, her fingertips brushing against the soft strands of your hair. With a tender touch, she brushed her lips against your forehead, pressing a small kiss on your skin before falling asleep herself, while listening to the soft sound of your breathing. 

She wished that this was forever. And she wished you wanted her the same way she wanted you. 

A soft rustling sound reached Wanda’s ears, like the delicate whisper of fabric against fabric. Fluttering her eyes open slowly, Wanda could feel the subtle shift of the mattress, the gentle weight redistribution that accompanied your movement. Through half-closed eyes, Wanda's gaze settled upon your silhouette as you leaned down to pick your clothes up. You were in nothing but your underwear and you sat there for a second to look down at your phone, the glow of the screen casting gently upon your face. 

“Hey,” Wanda whispered softly, propping herself up on one of her elbows, eyes still struggling to keep open.

You looked up in surprise, turning to see her rubbing her eyes as she looked at you, “Hey…”

“What’re you…” Wanda yawned and ran a hand through her hair. “What’re you doing? Are you leaving?”

There was a slight pout on her lips that you didn’t fail to notice. You watched her eyes lazily dart to the digital clock on her nightstand, furrowing her eyebrows slightly before turning her drowsy gaze away to look at you again.

“It’s six in the morning… on a Saturday,” she said as if it was obvious. 

“I know,” you nodded and looked down at your phone, the screen completely filled with texts and missed calls from that boyfriend of yours. “I just… I think I should really get going, Wanda.”

There was a moment of silence. 

“Oh.”

Wanda sighed and sat up properly, grabbing her shirt from the floor to put on. A very big part of her wanted to ask you to stay, over and over again, so that she could wrap her arms around you, underneath the covers, have you lay your head on her chest, and sleep peacefully with you for as long as she could. 

But there was a slim chance you’d take that offer.

“I’ll drive you.”

“It’s fine,” you said, fixing your dress as you stood up from her bed. “I really don’t live that far.”

Truthfully, you did live quite a few ways away, but you wanted to sort out everything that was running through your head, and the time it would take to walk to your apartment might just let you do that. 

Wanda bit her lip, wondering if she had done something wrong. She thought that maybe you were regretting the night before, thinking that one of the best nights she’s ever lived through was possibly a mistake in your eyes. 

She hoped you didn’t think that. 

“Are you sure?” Wanda grabbed her keys from her desk, just in case you change your mind. “I’m not tired.”

“I’m positive, Wanda,” you smiled lightly, knowing very well she wanted to back to sleep. “It’s okay.”

As you gathered your belongings, your movements deliberate yet tinged with a touch of haste, Wanda's gaze lingered upon you, committing every detail to memory. The way your fingers deftly secured a strand of hair behind your ear, the determined set of your jaw as you walked towards the door, the fleeting glances you stole in Wanda's direction—each moment etched itself in Wanda’s mind. 

Time seemed to stretch as Wanda observed your preparations, each passing second amplifying the ache within her. She longed to reach out, to intertwine her fingers with yours and convince you to stay for a little while longer. 

But the choice, ultimately, rested with you, and Wanda knew that she had to honor that.

“Wait,” she called out suddenly, her tone infused with a soft concern that you couldn't ignore, just as you had placed a hand on the doorknob. “One second.”

You watched her step away, rushing over to her closet near the corner of her room, then pulling out some brown jacket. With a tender smile, Wanda approached you, her hands enveloped in the folds of her own jacket.

"Here," Wanda murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she offered the jacket to you. "It's probably cold out there." 

There was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hidden message that spoke of the lengths she would go to protect and care for you, even in the smallest ways. Your eyes widened slightly, surprised yet touched by Wanda's gesture. A myriad of emotions flickered across your face—gratitude, a touch of longing, and a hint of reluctance. You hesitated for a moment, torn between accepting Wanda's offering and the weight of your own conflicted feelings.

“If you’re not going to let me drive you… at least take this,” Wanda said, sensing your inner struggle. “You can return it whenever. Or don’t. Whichever is fine.”

Your hand trembled ever so slightly as you reached out and accepted the jacket. The fabric felt warm and comforting against your skin, as though it held a piece of Wanda's essence within its fibers.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of gratitude and unspoken emotions. 

Wanda watched as you slipped into her jacket carefully, letting it fall gracefully upon your shoulders. It was a tad bit loose on you, and Wanda only found it adorable, nonetheless. It was her first time seeing you in one of her clothes and she had to bite back that smile that was threatening to show on her face. With a gentle touch, Wanda adjusted the collar of the jacket, ensuring it provided the utmost comfort and warmth for you. 

You left soon after, leaving Wanda alone in the silence of her room. 

The crisp air brushed against your cheeks, its touch a gentle reminder of the outside world. After walking out of the neighborhood, the city streets unfolded before you as you ventured forth, enveloped in Wanda's jacket. It was warm, you thought, like her. Wanda was warm. You felt her warmth the night before as she held you delicately like she was afraid of breaking you. 

The weight of your actions pressed upon you, the guilt of infidelity intertwining with the intoxicating sensations that Wanda had awakened within you. Thoughts of your boyfriend, once a source of comfort and affection, mingled with memories of last night.

As you walked, the city whispered its secrets. The laughter of strangers, the busy morning road full of people heading into work in the early morning, the flickering lights of cafes and bars, and the intertwining streets became a chorus of reflections, mirroring the complexity of your emotions. 

You wondered what your boyfriend was up to now, probably sleeping, and if he even thought of the possibility of you cheating on him. Would he even care at this point? You had always been a loyal girlfriend before your relationship had started crumbling, always being there for him as much as you could, trying to make him happy, just as he did for you. But, now, everything seemed to be thrown away, and it was like you didn’t even know him anymore. 

Instead, you let your thoughts shift to Wanda—sweet and gentle Wanda. You couldn’t help but compare your boyfriend to her. In the course of a single night, Wanda had unraveled layers within you that had remained untouched for so long.

As you finally reached your apartment, you stood before the threshold, your heart heavy with the weight of your choices. With a deep breath, you stepped inside, the door closing behind you. The echoes of the city receded, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the echoes of conflicting emotions. You can’t help but think of the night before when Wanda showered you with that love and affection you’ve been craving. It was all you could think about. 

And in this moment, you felt that you missed Wanda more than you did your boyfriend. 

The entire month came around quickly, and the world around you sprang back to life, bustling with the rhythms of college life. The campus hummed with the energy of students making their way to their classes. As you made your way to the art building, you found yourself clutching a bouquet of vibrant flowers, another peace offering from your boyfriend, a gesture meant to make amends for doing something that hurt your feelings. Again. It was typical.

Yet, you didn’t feel anything as you looked at the flowers. The colors of the flowers seemed muted, the petals lacking the vibrancy that you craved. You couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment, a sense of disconnection that overshadowed any gratitude you should have felt. You couldn't shake the nagging sensation that something essential was missing.

And Wanda felt the same thing, if not, more. God, she missed you the moment you slipped out of her arms that morning. Just the thought of you in her bed, moaning her name just like you did that night sent her into orbit. She wanted you all over again. She needed you. And she just couldn’t help herself. Not when she got the taste of what it would be like to have you in that way. You were addicting. She wanted more. So much more. 

So, then, it happened again. And again. And again.

For the past month, you’ve betrayed your boyfriend, seeking solace and love in the arms of Wanda. Every stolen moment, every secret rendezvous, ignited a passionate flame within you that you had never experienced before. She made love to you every week that passed. You’ve been having frequent late nights in Wanda's room, hidden within the walls of the sorority house. She made love to you every week that passed, stole you away from your classes to make out with you in secret, wanting to have her hands all over you as much as she could. A lot of the time, it would happen on nights when your boyfriend would drag you to another party and he was too caught up to notice that you’d disappear, stolen away by Wanda so that she could keep you all to herself. 

On one hand, you felt guilty. But on the other hand, your heart yearned for Wanda and her touches, her gentle words, and the way she looked at you. With Wanda, you felt seen, heard, and cherished in a way you had never experienced before.

As your mind wandered through the labyrinth of your thoughts, everything around you seemed to fade into a blur of colors and shapes. But just as you were lost in the depths of your reverie, a soft but distinct knock echoed through your ears, jolting your senses.

“What are you painting?”

You snapped out of your trance and took in your surroundings. Unbeknownst to you, your art class, your final class of the day, had ended, and the studio was empty. Startled, your gaze shifted abruptly towards the door frame behind you, where a familiar figure stood, their presence bringing an instant surge of warmth to your heart. It was Wanda, the one who had occupied your thoughts so incessantly. She was leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded. 

“What are you doing here?” You stood quickly, eyes flickering with a sense of surprise and worry.

“I missed you.”

You rushed out of your seat, quickly making your way over to where she stood. Wanda shifted under your gaze the moment you reached behind her to close the studio door before grabbing her arm and pulling her further into the room in case anyone saw her. Caught off guard by the sudden pull, Wanda stumbled slightly, her attention instantly captured by the sight of you.

You stood before her, clad in an artist's apron, tiny smudges of paint adorning your cheeks and hands. Your shirt, with its sleeves carefully folded, revealed glimpses of the same colors that lived on your canvas. And Wanda couldn’t help but smile at you.

“What are you smiling about?” You rolled your eyes, shyly tucking your hair behind your ear as you turned around to avoid her stare.

Wanda shook her head but kept the smile on her face, following closely behind you as you sat back down on the stool in front of your easel, “Nothing.”

“Seriously,” you say, rolling your eyes before picking the paintbrush up from your table. “What are you doing here?”

“Um,” Wanda struggled to find an excuse, “I was walking by and thought I’d come see you… just to see what you were up to.”

It wasn’t a total lie. But she missed you so much that she practically ran across the whole campus just to get to this building. And to be honest, she couldn't stop missing you if she tried. A month has passed since you left her bedroom that night, and the following weeks spent sneaking around with you almost felt both unsettling and heavenly to her—she had you, but at the same time, she didn’t. And, she hated it. 

In truth, Wanda's last class was located on the other side of the campus, far from the art studio. But the distance mattered little to her. She had to see you, and now that she did, fighting the urge to touch you was practically unbearable.

“I’m working on my final piece,” you told her, staring down at the palette box on the wooden table, using a palette knife to mix your oils. “It’s just some finishing touches. It won’t dry soon enough if I do a thicker layer… even though I should, but it has to be done by next Wednesday…”

You went on rambling quietly about what else you needed to do as if you were not only talking to her but also reminding yourself, which was cute, Wanda thought. She listened intently, slowly making her way closer behind you, peeking over your shoulder with a curious smile as her hand slowly rested against your hip. 

“What’s on Wednesday?” She asked, her front now pressed against your back as you continued to paint. 

Your breath hitched at the contact, but you made no move to back away. She was warm—and you learned that you loved that about her. You could feel her face next to yours, closely observing each stroke of your brush, watching how your fingers danced over the canvas.

“Well, it’s due Wednesday and there’s, uh,” you cleared your throat, suddenly feeling nervous and fuzzy in your chest knowing she was so close to you. “An exhibit. It’s on Friday, actually, but they need to finish preparing for it by Thursday. The art professors are choosing some students to showcase their portfolios at the museum down the road. It’s funded by the university.”

Wanda’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “And you got chosen as one of the artists? Out the whole art department?”

You laughed and shook your head, “Don’t make it a big deal—“

“But it is a big deal!” Wanda turned her head to look at you, her eyes watching your features closely. “It’s amazing. Really.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your breath hitched in your throat as you turned to face Wanda, the tips of your noses brushing against each other, causing you to pull your head back slightly. Your eyes widened, taking in the breathtaking proximity of your faces, your breaths mingling in the shared space in between. And you began to notice things you’ve never really taken the time to admire.

Wanda's bright green eyes, like emerald gems, sparkled with a mixture of affection and curiosity. The strands of her tousled red hair tumbled slightly, probably from wind from outside, framing her features with an effortless charm. You drank in the sight of Wanda, committing every line and curve to your memory.

“I think you’re amazing,” Wanda whispered, her eyes darting from your eyes down to your lips.

You watched her eyes as she did so, your cheeks flushing slightly—usually because of the fact that she always wanted to kiss you. 

Your voice trembled with a mix of uncertainty and longing as she began, “Wanda, wait… I don’t think we should—“

But before you could complete your sentence, Wanda tilted her head and closed the gap, her lips meeting yours in a gentle, yet fervent, kiss. Your initial protest was lost in the softness of Wanda's lips against your own as your eyes fluttered closed. Wanda's lips, warm and tender, spoke volumes of the love and adoration she held for you, and you couldn’t help but kiss her back. 

The kiss deepened, Wanda running her tongue along your bottom lip, wrapping her arms, and running her hands around your waist from behind you as you welcomed her into your mouth with a soft moan. She had been wanting to kiss you again since the last time she saw you, and now that it was finally here, it felt like a dream come true. 

You made out with Wanda until you felt like you were about to faint. You pulled away to catch your breath, keeping Wanda still by holding her shoulders in place as she continued to chase for your lips.

“Wanda,” you breathed, your mind filling itself with conflicting thoughts. 

“No one’s going to see,” she tried to reassure you, her lips brushing against yours.

“T-That’s not what I’m worried about,” A sigh falls from your mouth, turning your head away from her before she could lean back in.

Wanda's eyes tried to search yours, filled with a mixture of determination and longing, wanting nothing more than to press her lips against your mouth over and over again. Her voice trembled with a blend of frustration and vulnerability as she asked, “Then, what are you worried about?”

“I-I’ve been wanting to talk to you. This whole month with you… It’s been amazing. You’ve been perfect. Truly. But, I… I don’t know if this is a good idea… anymore… and I’m still with Tyler,” you finally let out, struggling to find the right words to say.

She paused, suddenly feeling tense after listening to you. 

“Then, break up with him,” she said softly, eyes gazing into yours, concentrating on what you had to say. 

“Wanda…”

“You said it’s been amazing. I don’t…” She shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows for a split second. “I don’t understand why this isn’t a good idea anymore. I don’t understand why you won’t break up with him. Do you even still like him? Do you not like me?”

You stood from your seat and walked a couple of paces away from her. “Of course, I like you.”

Wanda clenched her jaw, watching you carefully as you ran your hand through your hair, “You know what I mean.”

And for a moment, you don’t answer. It wasn’t because you weren’t sure of what the answer was, it was because of how sure you were. Wanda had given you so much love in one month and within this hour than Tyler could’ve given you in the past year. You couldn’t love Wanda even if you were tired. 

You closed your eyes, and sighed, “I do, Wanda.”

“Then, why are you still with him?”

“I don’t—I don’t know…” You stammered, frustration washing over your entire face. “I-I’ve been with him for so long and I’ve seen all of the good and the bad and I just can’t stop thinking about things like… what if he changes? I want to believe that he can, and lying to him constantly is starting to take a toll on me.”

“How long are you going to hold on to that ‘what if’? Hm? It’s been a month and he still hasn’t done anything to make you happy! He’s not just going to change overnight and besides, you’ve been constantly trying to talk to him about what’s wrong or what’s bothering but he doesn’t even seem to care!” She yelled, shaking her head slightly, “And what if he never changes? What if he keeps treating you like this? What then?”

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you listened to Wanda’s voice, tinged with a mixture of heartbreak and determination. Love, fear, loyalty, and doubt waged a fierce internal war within you. You knew deep down that Wanda was right, that your relationship with him was eroding your own happiness.

“Well, what are you asking me to do?” Wanda asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I-I don’t know—“

“If you’re going to ask me to just be friends with you, I’m not doing it,” she said, shaking her head, the thought of it waking her heart. “I can’t… I can’t just be friends with you.”

Your eyes softened at her words, “Wanda…”

“And, I know it’s scary. I know… It’s not going to be easy. I know you really liked him at some point back then, and that it’s hurting you that he’s like this,” Wanda said with a heavy heart as she watched the first of your tears run down your face. It tore her apart to be the one to make you cry, but she knew that you needed to hear it. “But, I really like you, too. And, I want to do things right with you. I want to take you out on dates and share the things I have with you. I want to kiss you. So many times. I want to worship you. I want to give you all the things you deserve. But, I don’t want to do any of that while you’re suffocating yourself in this relationship... You’re not happy with him, (Y/n). Not like you are with me.”

Your gaze faltered, torn between the love you felt for Wanda and the lingering ties that bound you to a toxic relationship. Fear and uncertainty swirled within you, clouding your judgment and eclipsing the clarity of your own desires. 

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows again, her gaze landing on the flowers on the table, “Are these from him?”

The fact that you don’t say anything else answers Wanda’s question. She nodded, pain filling her chest as she stared at your back. Feeling like you ripped her heart right out of her, jealousy filled her veins and she grabbed her bag and made her way to the door. 

“He’s a dick, (Y/n),” she started, halting in her tracks before she could walk out. “Love isn’t about hiding behind a bouquet of flowers to avoid talking to you. It’s not about waiting to see if things get better when all he does is give you a five-dollar bouquet as his way to apologize. He should be on his knees begging for your forgiveness. Because, if I were him, I’d do everything and anything to make sure you’re happy. I hope you know that.”

Then, she left.

You don’t see her for the next several days, not after that argument. She doesn’t text or call you and she doesn’t visit the art building anymore. 

Days turned into nights, and you found yourself anxiously waiting for a message, a call, or any form of contact from Wanda. But the silence remained unbroken, leaving you to question the depth of the chasm that had grown between you. Your heart longed for Wanda's presence, for the sound of her voice, and the comfort of her embrace. 

You replayed the argument over and over in your mind, dissecting every word exchanged and every emotion unleashed. You understood Wanda's frustration, her desire to be together with you, free from the toxicity that clung to your current relationship. And yet, fear had clouded your judgment, chaining you to a life that no longer brought you happiness. 

The nights turned into weeks, and your heart grew heavier with each passing moment. You yearned for the sound of Wanda's laughter, the warmth of her smile, and the unwavering support she had always offered for you. The absence of her presence was a constant reminder of the choice you had made and the potential consequences of that choice. Two weeks had passed since the argument, and the silence that lingered between the two of you weighed heavily on your spirit.

And soon, Friday came: the night of the exhibit. A mixture of excitement and nervousness coursed through your veins. The gallery buzzed with activity, the air thick with the scent of anticipation. Your artwork adorned the walls along with several other students, each stroke of your brush conveying emotions you had kept hidden for so long.

As the guests began to trickle in, your eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face amidst the sea of strangers. Each passing moment filled you with a sense of anticipation. You wondered if Wanda would come, and if she remembered it. The murmurs and laughter of the attendees swirled around you, blending into an indistinct background noise.

As the minutes ticked away, each second seemed to stretch into eternity. Your heart raced, your palms clammy with nervous anticipation. And then, in the midst of your restless thoughts, about an hour into the exhibit, a figure appeared at the entrance of the gallery. Wanda's presence filled the room, her vibrant aura commanding attention.

You approached her, but you couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of conflict etched upon her face. Wanda's eyes, usually filled with a gentle glow, held a mixture of hope and trepidation. It was clear that she had taken a risk by attending the exhibit, despite the wounds of your recent disagreement.

The room seemed to quiet around the two of you as you inched your way closer, as if the universe recognized the significance of this moment. Your heart swelled with a mix of gratitude and remorse, realizing the depth of Wanda's love and her willingness to be there for you, even when it felt like she hadn’t spoken to you in ages. 

Wordlessly, you stood beside Wanda, your shoulders almost touching, as you both gazed at the art that surrounded them. As the colors of your artwork danced across the gallery walls, you allowed yourself to hope, to believe that perhaps forgiveness and second chances were possible. And standing beside her, Wanda silently promised to be there, ready to support and love you, no matter the outcome.

“You came,” you breathed out, once you were close enough for her to hear. “You… you didn’t have to.”

Wanda turned at the sound of your voice, taking a moment to admire the way you looked tonight. The sight of you only made her curse under her breath, questioning why you had to look so damn good all the time. 

“Of course, I came,” she said, subtle eyes skimming over the dress that wrapped around your curves. “I wouldn’t miss it. But, I am a little bit late… I didn’t know when it was starting.”

Your eyebrows twitched upwards as you listened to her words, pursing your lips as a way to hide the pain you were feeling in your chest, “No, it’s okay. I–I’m glad you’re here. I’m really happy you’re here.”

You hadn't expected Wanda to come, not after the fight and the painful silence that had ensued for the past two weeks. But she came anyway, to one of the most important nights you had been preparing for throughout the year and you were beyond grateful. You could kiss her right now. 

But the pain you felt in your chest mostly stemmed from the fact that seeing Wanda here tonight made you recall what had happened between you two in the art studio. For the whole week, you thought you wouldn’t see her again, and it hurt to think that when that was all you wanted. 

And not only that, but you were also disappointed in the fact that you couldn’t see Tyler anywhere. You wondered if he was going to come tonight, or if he even remembered. But, that doesn’t even matter to you anymore. It hurt, of course, but it was a typical feeling you grew tired of. She was right. And deep down, even though you chose to do the opposite of what she said, you knew she was, too. You felt guilty for hurting Wanda, and for trying to believe in your boyfriend when she had been telling you from the start that he wasn’t going to change. 

“Um,” you started, trying to find the words to say. “How do you like it so far? The exhibit? Did you get to walk around a bit?”

Wanda smiled lightly, noticing that this was your way to have a conversation with her, “Yeah, yeah, I did. It’s amazing. Everyone did a great job. You’re all really talented.”

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat, turning away to hide the blush on your cheeks. 

“Your paintings are breathtaking, (Y/n),” she said, her eyes tracing the strokes of your artwork with admiration. “Almost just as stunning as their maker.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, nudging her shoulder a bit. You knew it was a way for her to lighten up the mood on a night that was so important to you. 

“I’m serious,” Wanda smiled gently. “You look beautiful. Really. That dress… You’re stunning.”

A blush tinted your cheeks as she glanced down at your attire, a mixture of gratitude and unease evident in your expression. "Thank you, Wanda."

You were grateful. You really were. Tears of appreciation welled up in your eyes, reflecting the flickering lights of the gallery, as you thought about Wanda. You felt as if you didn't deserve Wanda's unwavering support, but you also couldn't deny the overwhelming gratitude you felt.

While your eyes occasionally darted to your phone, a sense of resignation had settled within you. You had sent countless messages to your boyfriend, seeking his whereabouts and wondering about his presence, but with each unanswered text, the realization began to crystallize in your heart. He would never change for you. He would never prioritize your happiness or love you the way you deserved.

As your eyes swept over the crowd, you struggled to find your boyfriend anywhere. His absence spoke volumes, a stark reminder of the shortcomings of your relationship and the love that had dwindled over time. But, Wanda's presence radiated with unwavering support and affection, reminding you of the love she had found in the midst of chaos. 

“(Y/n)!” Another student called out for you. “Professor is looking for you. Some other teachers are asking about one of your paintings.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” you told her, biting your lip as you turned back around to face Wanda. “I… I have to go. But, if it’s okay, do you think you could… I’m allowed to leave in about thirty minutes—The students just need to be here for the opening since that’s when all of the critics and important art people and professors come in… And the gallery stays open for the rest of the night anyway, but after that, I’m free to go… So I was wondering if you could… I mean, if you even want to—”

“Yeah, I-I’ll wait for you,” she said with a smile, nodding her head eagerly without a second thought, interrupting your adorable ramble before you could even ask your question. 

You had to fight a smile that was slowly making its way onto your face, “Okay, I-I’ll find you.”

Reluctantly, you stepped away to find your professor, who gestured toward a group of important art figures gathered nearby. You made your way towards them, your mind divided between the conversation that awaited you and Wanda. With each stolen glance, you couldn't help but notice the softness in Wanda's features, the way her eyes shimmered with a mix of emotions that mirrored her own.

Engaging in polite conversation with the art professionals, your attention wavered, your thoughts constantly drifting back to Wanda. You wanted to go back to her. As you listened intently to the conversation before you, your eyes would inevitably wander back to Wanda, who moved quietly, her every gesture captivating and graceful as she looked around

Yet, you knew that this conversation with your professor held importance for your artistic future. So, you remained present, exchanging pleasantries and discussing your work, all the while feeling the pull of your emotions toward Wanda, who appeared lost in your own thoughts as she explored the gallery.

When the conversation drew to a close, your professor commended you on your talent and potential, expressing a desire to further support your artistic journey. Grateful for the recognition, you excused yourself, your steps immediately directing themselves toward Wanda, who stood near a captivating sculpture. Your heart quickened as you made your way through the bustling gallery, your mind consumed with conflicting emotions. 

But before you could reach her, your eyes caught the sight of a familiar man standing passed the glass doors of the gallery. He stood out by the entrance, a bouquet in his palm as he was about to step into the building. 

Without wasting another second, you rushed over to where he stood, to try and keep him out because you felt that he didn’t belong here anymore. 

“What are you doing here?” you said quietly, your voice tinged with a mix of exhaustion and frustration.

“(Y/n)! I’m so sorry for being late. I-I got caught up with work. You know how it is, and—and I couldn’t find the building and there was so much traffic when I was driving here,” Tyler said, muttering excuses after excuses. He held out the bouquet, his expression filled with contrived sincerity, “These are for you. I know how much you like them—”

“Tyler, I don’t want the flowers,” You shook your head, not even batting an eyelash at the way his arms dropped to the side after you said that sentence, gripping the plastic of the bouquet tightly in his hand. “I don’t want you here. I want you to leave.”

Confusion flickered across Tyler's face, quickly replaced by defensiveness. “What? I just fucking got here. I-I came to support you—”

“I am not going to do this with you again,” You rolled your eyes and glanced to the side, too furious to even look at him.

"Do what?"

“This, Tyler. I’m done. I’m done embarrassing myself. I’m tired you of treating me like shit. I can’t believe I spent so long trying to believe you’d change for me, but I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m done,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat as tears welled up in your eyes.

Anger flashed across his face, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "What the fuck are you talking about? We've been together for years. We can work through this. It’s just a rough patch."

“No, Tyler. It isn’t. I’ve already tried talking to you about this! So many times! But you just ignore me, you don’t talk to me, you don’t pay any attention to me, you flirt with everyone else and all you do for me is buy me so many goddamn flowers like they mean something for you!”

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he turned to look away.

“I’m unbelievable? Are you kidding me?”

“Yes, you are! You’re always so fucking boring! Always sitting alone at parties, always wanting to leave early, and you never want to go out—“

“How is this my fault?” You cried out in frustration. “You… You don’t even love me anymore.”

“What, and you do?”

The argument spilled onto the streets, voices raised and emotions running high. Your heart ached as the realization hit you with crushing force—this was the end. The end of a relationship that had long been tainted by neglect, disrespect, and a lack of true connection.

“I’m not doing this again, Tyler. We’re done. You can go find some other girl to give those stupid flowers to. Because, it’s not going to be me.”

Without saying more, you stepped back into the gallery and rushed through the gallery, heading straight into the office room where you kept your things. You closed the door behind you, tears streaming down your face. You leaned against the table, your body trembling with both relief and sadness. The echoes of the breakup reverberated in your mind, reminding you of the pain you had endured and the weight that had been lifted from your shoulders.

As you allowed yourself to surrender to your emotions, you were unaware that Wanda had been watching when you ran into the room, seeing the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks as you walked. But she waited. Wanda understood the need for you to process your feelings in private, respecting your space while patiently waiting for you. 

Minutes passed and you wiped away your tears, taking deep breaths to steady your trembling form. You decided that you felt like the building was suffocating you and that you needed to leave, but you remembered Wanda. With each passing moment, your heart began to steady and you slowly grabbed your things before heading out again. You knew that your decision to break away from Tyler was the right one, even if it meant venturing into unknown territory with Wanda. 

As you finally gathered the strength to leave the room, you slowly opened the door, your eyes adjusting to the dim lighting of the gallery once again. And there, standing just a few steps away, was Wanda. She gave you a small smile as you slowly made your way towards her. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” Wanda watched as you tried to avoid her eyes as a way to hide the fact that you were crying. But she saw right through you.

You finally spoke, your voice trembled slightly, "I, um, think I need to get out of here, away from all this... everything. I know I asked you to wait—."

“No, it’s okay,” Wanda nodded immediately, her expression filled with empathy. "I’ll drive you home."

And normally, you’d protest and say you can go alone instead, but Wanda made no room for you to argue when she already started making her way towards the doors. Your eyes flickered with gratitude as you leaned into Wanda's presence, following closely behind her. 

You stepped outside, the cool night air embracing the both of you as Wanda led you to her car. She opened the door for you, gesturing for you to slide into the passenger seat. You settled into the seat, glancing at Wanda as she made her way into her own, your eyes shimmering with vulnerability. Starting the engine, Wanda guided the car onto the open road of the city, leaving the gallery and its lingering shadows in the rearview mirror. The world outside the windows slowly became a blur of city lights and passing landscapes as time passed. 

The drive was quiet. The soft hum of the car engine filled the air as she drove you home in a comforting silence. You sat quietly in the passenger seat, your gaze fixed on the passing streetlights, getting lost in your own thoughts. But Wanda stole glances at you whenever she could, her eyes tracing the delicate curve of your profile, sitting so pretty in the passenger seat of her car. You wore a jacket over that gorgeous dress you wore, and every fiber of Wanda's being yearned to reach out, to hold your hand, or put hers over your thigh. 

But she restrained herself. 

The car eventually glided to a stop in front of your apartment, the engine purring into silence. Wanda turned off the ignition and her gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she spoke softly. 

“We’re here,” she said, rubbing her hands against her jeans nervously. 

You pulled yourself out of your trance the moment her words reached your ears, glancing out the window for a moment before looking back at her. She was waiting. You met Wanda's gaze, a flicker of a smile gracing your lips. She was waiting. You nodded once again, but you didn’t move to get out or anything. 

Instead, you asked, “Do you want to come in?”

Wanda's eyes widened, eyebrows twitching in surprise, her initial shock giving way to a glimmer of hope that danced in the depths of her gaze. A gentle smile curved Wanda's lips, the subtlest of nods conveying her agreement, even fighting the urge to say ‘please.’

“Yeah.”

It was quiet when she entered your apartment, following behind in soft footsteps as you led her through your front door. She’s never really been inside before—all the secret nights you spent with her were in the comfort of her own room in the sorority house. She liked having you in her bed. Then again, she would love to be in yours, if you’d let her. 

The air felt heavy with unspoken words, tension lingering from the events that had unfolded at the gallery. She followed closely behind you, her footsteps light and cautious as you led her down the hall to your kitchen. The atmosphere in the apartment seemed hushed, almost as if it was holding its breath, mirroring the uncertainty that lingered in Wanda's mind. Her mind raced with thoughts of what she could say, how she could comfort you, or how to even begin talking to you. 

Leaning against the kitchen table, Wanda's gaze fixed upon your back, watching your every move as you prepared tea for her. Nervous anticipation coursed through her veins, a gentle thrum of excitement filling her chest as she stared at you. She found herself entranced by the sight of you before her. The dress hugged you in all of the right spots, every line and curve fitting you perfectly. And Wanda couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly the fabric draped over your frame, molding itself to you, as if it had been designed with you in mind. Wanda didn’t know how long she was staring. Her eyes traced the gentle sway of your hips as you reached for a teacup, and she wanted nothing more than to pull you close to her.

“I broke up with him,” you blurted out suddenly. 

Lost in her admiration, Wanda's breath hitched ever so slightly at the sound of your voice, pulling her out of her trance. 

“I-I feel more relieved than sad actually… It’s like… I don’t know,” you sighed. “Should I be feeling guilty for being happy that we broke up? I feel like should be crying right now, but I feel… thankful.”

Wanda watched as you continued to make two cups of tea, your back turned to her, listening to your words carefully. 

“I just don’t know if it’s okay for me to…”

You sighed again, and even if you didn’t finish your sentence, Wanda had a feeling she knew what you were going to say. She could sense the guilt and uncertainty that weighed heavily on your mind, knowing all too well the thoughts that plagued her.

Just as you were about to voice out the rest of your thoughts, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, holding you softly as her front pressed against your back, “Is this okay?”

For a moment, you don’t say anything, and Wanda wonders if she should pull away and keep her distance until you decide what you feel is right or wrong. But her thoughts dissipated when she felt you nod. She sighed in relief, letting her eyes flutter closed as she brought her head down to your shoulder, kissing your skin there. 

“I heard,” she started, mumbling into your shoulder so quietly that you almost didn’t hear. “When Tyler came. I just… I wanted to make sure he wouldn’t do anything.”

You stayed quiet as she spoke, slowly stirring the tea in the mug in front of you. Gently, she slipped her hand into yours, intertwining her fingers softly with yours before bringing it up to her face to kiss the back of your hand.

“I’m proud of you. Really. I am,” she said, rubbing the pad of her thumb along your skin.

“You were right,” You sighed and smiled gently, using your hands to run them over hers, the ones that rested against your stomach, holding you close against her, “I knew you were right. But, I should’ve listened to you sooner… I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you don’t have to apologize,” she said, shaking her head against your back. “I knew you were nervous about it. And that you were scared… I knew. But I pressured you about it anyway, even though I knew you weren’t ready yet.”

You turned around to look at her, your hands landing on her shoulders, “Wanda—“

“I would have waited either way. I already have been. I would still wait for you if you need me too,” she said, more sincerely than you’d ever heard anyone say anything before. “I would do anything.”

You stood there, your heart momentarily caught off guard by the surge of emotions that flooded your being. Wanda's words lingered in your mind, filled with a depth of sincerity that you had never experienced before. The toxic grip that your ex-boyfriend had held on your heart suddenly seemed insignificant, overshadowed by the overwhelming love you felt from just looking into Wanda’s eyes alone. You smiled sadly, slightly mad at yourself for not dropping everything to be with her sooner. 

Bringing your hand up to her face, you smoothed your thumb over her cheek as a way to calm her down, “You don’t have to wait anymore, Wanda.”

Wanda's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in surprise and hope. She searched your gaze, her heart pounding with anticipation, trying to find any signs of regret or disapproval. 

“Please tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying,” she breathed, waiting for the response that would shape the path ahead. But as she looked into your eyes, she saw something that sparked joy within her.

You brought a second hand up to cup her face and leaned in to press your lips against her cheek. She closed her eyes at the contact, the soft kiss did well to erupt butterflies in her stomach. Wanda sighed and dropped her head to hide her face against your neck after you kissed her, her breath tickling your skin slightly as her grip around your waist grew tighter. The corners of her own lips curved up into a smile that she 

couldn’t fight, a soft chuckle bubbling in her throat as she breathed you in.

“Do you really want this with me?”

“I love you,” you said, more certain than ever, watching as Wanda’s breath hitched at the sounds of your words. You smiled needily, entirely in love and filled with so many emotions you couldn’t contain them all at once. “I want everything with you.”

It was finally here—the moment when she could finally call you hers. Heart pounding, she reached her arms around you again keeping herself in your embrace and wanting to be as close as possible to you.

She hid her face again by tucking it into the side of your neck, nuzzling as close as she could, “I can’t stop smiling.”

Gently scratching the nape of Wanda’s neck to grab her attention, you urged her to bring her head back up. But the moment she did, you felt her lips press against yours. Her patience had worn thin, wanting to taste you after what felt like forever of not being close to you, not being able to touch you, hold you, or kiss you. Wanda sighed into the kiss, her hands sliding to the small of your back to pull you impossibly close to her while you let yours run through her hair. She moaned into your mouth when you tugged on it slightly.

Wanda smiled against your lips, thinking about all the ways she would love you, treasure you, unlike him. Her mind wandered in between the time she kissed you, the addicting taste of you on her tongue was making her feel weak in her knees. She found her hands slowly traveling down to your hips, then lower and lower, up until they rested on the lowest part of your back, her fingers bunching up the fabric of your dress. 

“What are you doing?” You pulled back with a giggle, looking at her, acting innocently curious.

“Kissing you,” she said, dragging her lips along the skin under your jaw, kissing you softly there as you tilted your head to the side to give her more space. “Can I help you out of this dress? Please?”

You shuddered at the sound of her low voice, your hands gripping her shoulders like your life depended on it. You nodded, about to say yes, but Wanda was quick to put her mouth on yours the second you opened it, slipping her tongue past your lips. 

The entire night she had to see your figure so beautifully displayed in this little black dress and ignore it. But it was damn near impossible now with you so close and moaning into her mouth. Wanda was at a loss for words. She just didn’t know how to say it. Everything was perfect now. You were perfect. The way the straps of your dress fell off your shoulders was perfect. The way you smelled and tasted. The way that Wanda could call you hers now, keep you all to herself.

And finally, her chest heaved only for a moment before she chose what to do and you closed your eyes and welcomed something you had long dreamed of. 

— navigation!

[nightlyrequiem]

General and Relationship Headcanons

Mostly just me rambling about Valeria because she’s all I think about all day everyday <3

This is pretty unstructured

Valeria Garza was a mean girl in high school. She wasn’t popular by any means, she was just really mean and aggressive. She had a habit of getting into physical fights. She’d swing on anybody, boy or girl.

She’s a raging lesbian. (I don’t make the rules.) She probably hasn’t had many girlfriends though because Las Almas has a smaller, more traditional population. During her military days I can definitely see her hooking up with at least one of the other women in her unit, fraternization be damned. It ended when the woman didn’t want anything serious.

She had no romantic or sexual relations with Alejandro. I refuse to entertain the idea at all for my own sake.

I like to think she’s 5’6 to 5’7 and around 135lbs. Perhaps 140lbs. Shes around the same age as Alejandro and Rudy. You have to have around 22 years of experience to become a colonel, which Alejandro is, so that sets them around their late thirties to forties. I think Valeria sits at 38.

She has a short temper and not much patience. Especially with the men who work for her. (And men in general.) She feels pressured to make them afraid of her because since she’s a woman she knows they don’t respect her as much as they would a man. She’s not afraid to stab people in the back and she believes everyone is like that. Loyalty can be bought by the highest bidder so she’s always prepared for a betrayal.

The general public don’t know that she’s El Sin Nombre, and most of her own cartel are unaware as well. Only three or four get the privilege of knowing and even then she doesn’t trust them completely.

The cartel wasn’t as influential before she took it over. La Araña liked to do business under the table and out of sight if he could. Because of that, it was smaller. Still making bank but not as much as it could in Valeria’s opinion. She saw an opportunity to line her own pockets and make Las Almas just a little stronger. She used bribery, violence, and fear to her advantage. Killing and displaying anyone who got in her way and building important building to gain public support. All while hiding behind the Sicaria title.

She grew up poorer than the other children. Money is one of her biggest motivators. She was always envious of the other kids who got to go on trips or get new things often. She felt she was dealt a bad hand in life and it turned her bitter. Because she didn’t grow up with a lot of money I think she has spending guilt. She’ll splurge sometimes but she doesn’t own five fancy cars and a huge house. She probably has a smaller private property somewhere and conducts her business at Diego’s villa.

She’s an attractive woman, and she knows it. She’ll still put on a little makeup though. She’ll touch up her brows and put on mascara. She has no one to impress but she knows she’ll be taken more seriously if she’s perceived as attractive.

Valeria doesn’t do flings. Shes not some hopeless romantic, she doesn’t date around hoping to find the one. But, if she’s going to make herself vulnerable to another human being, physically or emotionally then she isn’t going to do it for someone who’s not going to appreciate it. The payoff needs to be worth the price. She learned her lesson.

She’s not the type to be soft and sweet in a relationship. She has her moments of course, but I can’t see her constantly calling you pet names and clinging to you. Her love language is acts of service. She’ll cook you food, bring you something to drink if you mention being thirsty, simple things she can do to make your life a little more convenient. If her you happen to be someone in her cartel she’ll show she cares by keeping a closer eye on you.

One of the men keeps making you uncomfortable? She’ll make sure you don’t have to interact with him. She’ll give you safer tasks and pay you a little more than the others. She might try to convince you to just quit all together. You’d be safer and happier tending to the home, she’s sure. She also just wants you to be financially dependent on her to make it harder to leave. Not that you’d want to. Shes a great girlfriend.

Just not during fights. She loves you but she has a nasty habit of blowing up at you. She’ll say things she knows will hurt you. There’s also the fact that she works a lot. She puts a lot of her time into the cartel. In keeping it going. You might feel lonely and neglected while with her.

She does love you. Even if she calls you replaceable she doesn’t mean it. If you get fed up and try to leave she’ll pull out the crocodile tears. It’s undignified, but she’s convincing enough with her promises to change and her woe-is-me act that you’d feel too guilty to leave.

If that doesn’t work she’ll turn to the only other thing she knows, threats of violence.

She also has jealously issues. She is territorial. She doesn’t make it obvious but she’s jealous of your friends. She doesn’t like your male friends even if you’re a lesbian yourself, and she views your female friends as potential competition regardless of their sexual orientation.

She won’t whine about it, but if you spend too much time with your friends she’ll take it out on you without telling you why. She’ll be snappy, give you the cold shoulder. Which ultimately leads into another fight. She doesn’t understand why you need friends. She doesn’t have friends and she’s fine.

She’ll make it up to you by buying you gifts. She’s not one to spend frivolously but she’ll drop a pretty penny on something if she thinks it will make you forgive her. You mentioned an article of clothing in a passing conversation five weeks ago? Well Valeria remembered and now it’s carefully folded up on the bed waiting for you. She sees a piece of jewellery that she knows you’ll like? It’s yours, but only if you forgive her.

Her favourite colour is pink. Her bedsheets are pink. Her nails are canonically pink. I don’t make the rules, her favourite colour is pink.

[factual-fantasy]

31 asks! Thank you! :}} ☯️

Now I'm gonna be totally honest, I DO have a favorite twin and its Ingo <XDD But I also fully understand and support your point!

What makes Ingo and Emmet so fun and interesting to me is their bond! How they mirror each other, how they interact, their strength as a team! Sure separating them for the angst is great an all- but truly showing them together and more importantly as equals is where the good stuffs at!

This is also why I usually try to wrap up their separation arcs in my AUs, and also don't really enjoy reading any Legends Arceus content.. seeing Ingo alone is not only heartbreaking,, but its also just not as fin. Ingo and Emmet are stronger together :)

@sallychaosaura (In response to this post)

Miiiight be a bit too late for that <XDD

@orangesideirrational

Thank you! :D I'm glad :))

Sorry, no can do! <:( Also thank you! :))

(Post in question)

(It was very intentional! :}) He's stressed. 😔

Ugh.. well, thanks for letting me know.. and at least the commenters know I don't consent to reposts..

😔

@thatweirdocryptid

TORPEDO??

@soulful-rodent (Post in question)

Well in-game we was traded to a friend and back so he'd evolve..

Buuuut lore wise, without a trainer..? <:D No idea-

Probably somewhere around 100 <XD

@xtra-collab

Absolutely terrifying! Next question XD

@lost-brain-privileges

No, no, aaaaand poorly, XD I'm doing fiiiiine won't worry! :)

@beeboboingo

AAATHANK YTOU SOMNUCH!!!! :DDDDDDD

I can imagine when he first gained the ability to hide in peoples shadows, he probably gave many people quite a scare without meaning to <XDDD

@cat7890

Thank you! :DD And Their stories are kind'a vague when I take out my trainer..

I'm thinking that somehow, Midori met Gloria in their first evolutions and became friends. Then they found Grim..

later on Midori found Anastasia after she had run away from a battle. She tried to hide but her shiny gold color made that impossible.. Midori took her to Gloria and they took care of her.

Afterwards they met Sylvester..

Beyond that, I don't have any details in mind.. 😅 Sorry!

Typically I prefer horror games/movies, but ONLY when they're being played by or watched by someone else in a YouTube video XDD

Some of those YouTubers being Elvis The Alien and Markiplier! :}}}

@fragmented-ghost (Pokémon Violet team master post)

AAAA I'm so glad you like them! :DD I plan to draw them more at some point, but atm I kind'a got sucked back into the Violet grind XDD I'm just about to beat the main game! :0000

@justanintrovertedweirdo

I have! :DD I like it quite a lot an have drawn some things for it here and there! Though I never got around to completing the game..

Someday I'd like to go back and beat the game. I can imagine I'd jump right into the fandom afterwards if I did XDD

XD Probably!

I don't remember talking about that.. if you had a link to the original post maybe I could remember with context..? <:0

@tallchest13-blog (Post in question)

XDDD I'm glad you like them! :))

XDD All of those titles made me laugh! And I see your point, but I have a few counter points to this ask..

For 1, to keep with the theme, I would want to/have to make this cape IRL in order to add it to my sona. Now if the last 4 quilts have shown me anything? Its that I'm not super great at making quilts <XDD

If it was that challenging to make it on a smaller scale? I cant imagine how much trouble I'd have trying to make a full size one! <XDD Plus buying the materials... having to physically get up, go buy the stuff I need and make it. With these health issues I've been battling, that's not something I wanna do atm.. 😅Not to mention with how hot its been lately, I don't think I need a quilt anyways-

And then lastly- I'd have to draw myself with it every time! I like my sona being a simplistic blob that has minimal colors and not much of a model to keep too. I worry a quilt might take that away.. :(((

XDD I'm glad I'm not the only one who sees the potential! :))

I have a few times here an there. Just to hang out with some friends :)

I mean, I don't know the history between you two... But my advice is to leave them be. If they ghosted you, they probably want space..

@iloveseriess

I altered the story of Welcome Home to make my version of Sally a teenager. So I was thinking she could be bluish-white to look like a young star..? But looking back I don't like the blue.. For story purposes she might stay a teen, but I think I'll keep her yellow <XDD

@anikakitty11

Yoo! :DD She's so colorful! And that black shadowy arm is so spooky.. Does she have a story? 👀👀

(Pixel art tutorial in question)

I'm glad it helped! Happy pixeling!! :}} 👋👋

@minnesotamedic186

XD Don't worry its fiiiiiine!

I've wanted to draw evil Grim and Sylvester again in general, but I don't really have any ideas for them yet.. 😅

[junedenim]

a vision trip

part 1 part 3

one day with a familiar face in a foreign country

word count: 10.4k

It's May in Paris. The breeze is light and the air is sweet. Alex sits in a cafe, picking at his nails, waiting. He nurses a coffee, but it's too bitter, and he's too nervous to ask for sugar or cream. He debates ordering food but decides to wait for his counterpart. He's tired. Too many shows and an overwhelming amount of traveling. There isn't much keeping him awake other than the people bustling around him and the person he's awaiting.

She was supposed to be here at 12 and it's 12:10 now. He won't complain. He isn't one for punctuality either. He can't think about the show tonight. It's draining but he'll soak up every minute of it. He just doesn't want to wait. He wants to take a nap. He'll wait 10 more minutes and then leave. It's fair enough.

He's tapped out. People-watching in Paris is quite a thrill. People sitting outside are smoking and he wishes he picked a seat out there so he could at least have a cigarette keeping him awake. There's a couple across the street either arguing or just passionately talking. It's hard to tell the difference.

Then, the chair across from him screeches across the floor loudly, drawing his eyes up. All the color drains from his face, his ghostly appearance recognizing the phantom that stands before him. His heart has fallen out of him. It's lying on the floor somewhere, the blood spurting out of it. Alex is certain he has fallen and hit his head and this is the dream sequence that plays in the movie. He's lost in a circle of time. It could be minutes or seconds, he sits there with his mouth begging to catch flies.

She smiles. That same fucking smile. Bright, pearly, the kind she'd give that made him want to lean in and kiss her. She looks the exact same. Even has a bandana on, although, now it's tied around the back of her head, holding that blonde hair back. It's longer now. She's dressed in jeans and a blue-and-white pinstriped button-up. It's almost like they are matching. Could be, if they wanted to with his trousers and white button-up.

He blinks like twenty times trying to clear his vision, make sure of this sight. Confirm this is real. It stays the same. "Holy fucking shit," he finally utters.

Her smile grows wider. "Wow," she sighs, "your French has gotten much worse. You're supposed to say bonjour."

Alex finally allows a smile to crack his face, despite his certainty that this can not be real. "What—what are you doing here?" His brows furrow, still unable to take in her whole image.

She takes off the saddle bag. It's leather this time. Not her old cloth one with the pins. She sits fully down in the chair across from him. A wide smirk displays across her face as she rests her head on her left hand. "Interviewing you."

As if this interaction couldn't get crazier and his jaw could possibly hang open wider. "Seriously?"

She gives him a pleased nod. "I don't usually do music but someone atmy work mentioned the Arctic Monkeys concert coming to town and the opportunity for an interview and I begged my boss."

He tries to quail his quickened heartbeat but she isn't making it simple. None of this is simple and he's gone dazed and crazed. He must have. "I can't believe you're here. You're in front of me. I feel like you're so calm and I've completely lost it."

"Well, I knew I would be seeing you again for about a month and I tried to regain my cool in front of the bathroom mirror for about 45 minutes. Do you want to go do that?" She points behind her to the toilets with a dream-inducing grin. She's proud of that joke.

"I might have to. Go in there and se branler." He motions jerking off loosely with his hand and it gets that precious fucking laughter out of her.

"You remember any French other than that?"

He gives a quick shake of his head. "No, not really." Prompting more laughter from her. He stares at her, giving her a thorough examination. "I can't fucking believe it. It's been 11 years, you know, how fucking crazy is that?"

"Don't tell me that." She rests her forehead in the palm of her hand. "I'm still trying to deal with turning 30 and that was 2 years ago."

He's amused by her. It's 11 years ago and yesterday for him. He feels they've snapped right back into place. No time has shifted and they are 21 again and this is what life would have been like if they had July in Paris. "So, you finally figured out your life," he recalls her ramblings. Revels in them.

She shrugs. "For the most part. It took a while but we're here. It was kind of, well, our day in Brussels helped point me in that direction. You probably don't remember"—he remembers everything, seriously—"but you made this compliment about how I had all these good questions or something and I thought, after you, well, told me about the whole band thing, and I figured out how big you actually were that I could do that for a living. Interview people. I don't usually do rockstars though not since you."

A thumping rings in his red-hot ears. He tries to take a deep breath and has to try several times. "What do you usually do?"

"Mainly the art section. I go to at least a dozen gallery openings every week but I love it."

"It sounds perfect for you. You helped me understand Magritte."

She smiles with pride. "You always had a keen eye. I only pointed you in the right direction."

He lets out a puff of air loudly and shakes his head. He doesn't look down at his hands but already knows they're shaking. "I'm sorry. I just can't fucking believe you're in front of me. I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

She giggles. "I didn't really either."

He becomes a tad solemn as he leans on his hand, closer to her. "Can I ask you something?" She nods. "Why didn't you come to the Paris show?"

She leans back in her chair and her demeanor shifts. She's remorseful-looking and toying with her hands. He supposes that habit has stayed the same. "I wanted to. I tried to be but I had got into this journalism program in Boston. I saw you there but I didn't think you'd want to see me after ditching you in Paris. I didn't really know how to get backstage or anything either. I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "Don't be sorry. Why did you think I wouldn't want to see you?"

She tries to hide her face. "I swear I wasn't searching you up every night and stalking you but I saw you and your girlfriend back then, uh, Alexa. Didn't want to impose on anything because that was back when I didn't have the belief of women and men being friends."

"Like Harry Burns? I'd want to see you no matter what." He doesn't want to admit to her how hurt he was by her not showing up in Paris. How her name had been on every backstage list for the Favourite Worst Nightmare tour. Let alone that embarrassed trolling around Paris he had done. His start with Alexa, however serious that relationship ended up becoming, was rooted in getting over Lottie. He still hadn't fully dealt with that last part. Not until she sat in front of him and he realized.

"I had a different mind at 21," she explains. "I changed therapists."

He throws his head back in laughter. "What was the final straw?"

"Well." Her eyes drift away from his, looking down at her locked hands. "Moving to America was the main reason. I couldn't deal with any more defense of porn-addict boyfriend."

Alex takes a sip of his coffee, forgetting its bitterness, but enduring it to indulge in her sweetness. "She never let up on that one?"

"Not really."

Lottie orders a cappuccino and Alex, unsure of what to do, says, "You know, I have a concert later tonight."

"I know. I'm gonna go if that's alright. For the article and everything." She says it like she's informing him, rather than asking for permission.

"Well, I don't have to be at the venue for another couple of hours and I've never really gotten the chance to explore Paris." The smile that spreads across her face tells him she knows what he is thinking.

She snickers, "I should get a flat day rate for being your tour guide."

He leans forward on the little cafe table between them. "Come on, I'll give an exclusive. Complete unabridged day with a rockstar."

She giggles. "My boss would be very mad if I didn't take that."

"Perfect." He means every bit of that. His 21-year-old self's fantasies are finally coming true. Imagining life as it truly should have been. He thinks how much he has changed since then. How much he has stayed the same. She's stayed the same in his mind. A ghostly presence in his mind. An angel that came and visited for a day. She looks much of the same, especially compared to his differing appearance. Longer hair, less scrawny, light stubble regrowing post-goatie. He's grown into himself more, no longer an awkward boy under a hoodie. He's getting hot under his suit jacket. "So, what have you been up to the past 11 years?"

George points a finger at him. "Aren't I supposed to be asking you questions?"

He smirks and leans back in his chair. "No, see that's part of the deal. You tell me what you've been doing for the past decade and answer all my questions and I might tell you exclusive material. But you have to hold up your end of the bargain."

She raises an eyebrow but smiles and nods. "Let's see the last 11 years. I mean, I lived in Boston for 5 years. About 5 years too many."

"Why? Did you hate it?"

She tilts her head back and forth in an indifferent gesture. "It's a nice city but I don't think I belong in America. I fell into a fantasy there. By the time I had been there 5 years, I felt I had been living a lie the whole time. You know, I didn't like my apartment or my friends or even my job and I was 26 and it was either change my shit now or live like this for the rest of my life."

"Yeah, yeah. I feel that now. I've been out in LA for about 5 years now but had never really settled until this past year. I loved it my first year. It was so different than anywhere I've ever lived but last year was the first time I had been there a full year and I think I hate it."

"America's a mess now anyway. I couldn't imagine living in LA. It doesn't seem fun."

Alex shrugs. "I like it but I think I've fallen away from it. And everywhere is a mess now anyway. Brexit's happened and England's a mess and I haven't even lived there fully since 2008 but part of me thinks I'd like it."

"When I moved back to Paris after Boston, I felt my whole body realigned and I'm not one for that energy crap but I think there has to be something to these places because I immediately felt a relief I had never felt in Boston." His head is filled with thoughts of telling her, I know exactly what you mean, I feel it right now looking at you.

"Maybe after this next tour but I don't know if me girlfriend would do it. She already moved out to LA for me. I'd feel shitty making her move to a whole other country."

"Is she American?"

He nods, even though he has a feeling she already knew that but she's trying not to seem like she already has all the answers to him already from her research. "You seeing anyone?"

Her face crosses. "Kind of." Her resolve breaks with a laugh. "God, how embarrassing is it that I'm 32 and kind of in a relationship?"

"I think you're fine. 32 is still young. You don't have to worry about that for another decade."

She leans forward with intensity, the same level she had at 21. "Except, I'm getting down to the wire here as far as having children." He throws his head back in laughter. It's nice to know that she hasn't changed a bit in 11 years. "I'm serious. And, I know, I know, science is so advanced these days and there are millions of children to adopt and blah blah blah but I don't want to be a 50-year-old pregnant woman or a single mother. I mean, I'm not opposed to it but I don't think there's anything wrong with having the fantasy of the nuclear family. Except I don't know if I really want that or that's just societal pressure I'm feeling."

It's deja vu for him of the romantic nostalgia variety that if he could package it into a pill and take it as a prescription forever, he would. "You said the same thing in Brussels."

She groans in frustration. "Great, so I'm a broken loop. I'm a woman moaning about men and babies. I put shame on all the feminist icons."

He waves his hand at her. "I think you're fine and it's nice to know how you feel about these things, even if it's the same. I feel that way right now."

"With children?"

"Yeah, I mean, most of me friends have settled. Everyone in the band has kids and I don't know if I want that. Me girlfriend wants that, I think, but I can't imagine touring and having kids at home. I still feel too young to have kids or to get married."

She groans, "Yuck. Don't even get me started on marriage."

"Don't believe in it?"

"I don't want to. I think if I was with someone who really wanted it then maybe but when I was engaged it felt like such a doomful thing."

She nonchalantly says it but he needs to know. "You were in engaged?"

Lottie gives a small head nod and sips her cappuccino. The subject is still an odd one for her. "For about 6 months in 2012. It was a disaster, to say the least, mostly on my part. He was a good guy but I was too immature to settle and he was the last thing keeping me in Boston. Once that ended, I came back to Paris."

"You were engaged to an American?" He leans forward with intrigue. It shocks him for some reason. 

She furrows her brows. "Aren't you dating an American?"

"Yeah, but it's different," Alex excuses.

"How?"

There isn't actually a difference other than bubbling jealousy but he can't admit that. So, he shrugs. "I'm a lowly Brit and you're a sophisticated French girl dating an American, let alone one from Boston."

She tilts her head in slight agreement. "He was awfully rowdy."

"Was he a big Red Sox fan?" Alex jokingly asks.

She sticks her tongue out and shakes her head. "Yuck, don't talk to me about baseball. Sports is the primary reason I left. His family had season passes and it was like the Salem Witch Trails if you didn't go to every game."

"See this is why I can't picture you engaged to an American."

"Fair point," she says. "What about your girlfriend?"

"Oh." He doesn't know why he's taken aback by the question. It makes him stir with guilt. It's not that he doesn't love his girlfriend, he has a fucking tattoo with her name, but suddenly Lottie sits down in a cafe in Paris across from him and he is thrown. 

"She's great." He stops there but then Lottie stares at him and he realizes he's being short. He stares down at his cup. "She's—she's funny, beautiful, and very lovely." The description doesn't exactly help his case.

She doesn't push him any further. In fact, she smiles, and says, "She sounds nice. I'm sure you don't deserve her."

Alex chuckles initially at the comment but it grows painful inside of him. He struggles to digest it and the words weigh heavy as it turns from a joke into the truth. He shakes it off as best he can. "Who is this 'kind of' relationship?"

She sighs loudly. "We met at this weird work function. He works as a freelance photojournalist and travels to these warzones for months at a time and then he'll be here for a month or 2 before heading off again."

"Wow," Alex utters. How can I compete with a warzone photojournalist who is kind of her boyfriend? He shakes it. You don't need to compete because you have a fucking girlfriend, you idiot. "That's cool." Idiot.

"Yeah." She displays a similar demeanor as him: outmatched with no chance of catching up. "It's—he's a good guy. He does this incredible work but I can't help but constantly feel undercut by him. It's not his intention but—no offense to you—I'm telling him about some avant-garde art show I just reviewed and he's like 'That's great, I'm photographing Syrian refugee camps.' You feel like a complete loser next to him."

"You're helping keep art alive and maybe I'm stroking me ego too much but isn't that what we need during all these shitstorms? It feels like the only thing keeping me sane at times."

She leans forward onto her hand and smiles and, fuck, he feels his heart skip a beat. He can't shake her off of his skin, off his mind, off his heart. If he was a smart guy—a good guy—he'd do the interview, and leave. Play the show and leave France. Go home to his girlfriend and leave Lottie as a fantasy in his mind for the rest of his life. But then he thinks about his 21-year-old self who swore he wouldn't let her become that to him. Someone he would lie awake at night and imagine what life would be like if he got her. She's danced in and out of his mind through the years, but he'd be lying if he didn't think about what would have happened if she showed up in Paris. She got on that London-bound train. If they exchanged fucking phone numbers. He can't lie awake and think what would have happened if he didn't shun her. "Do you want to walk around now maybe?"

"Sure." She eagerly stands up.

She opens her bag and takes out her wallet. He holds his hand out. "You have to let me pay for your coffee, at least. I never paid you back for the hotel." The thought of the hotel room sends shivers down his spine. 

Alex tosses a few bills to cover the check and then some. She giggles, "You finally have Euros."

He shrugs with a hidden smirk too shy to show him how pleased he is that she remembers. Even if it's his dorky mistake. "A little more prepared this time."

They exit the cafe into the Latin Quarter with Lottie leading the way to their next location. Their pace is the same as it was in Brussels. In step with one another through talks of one another's lives. 

"What has the last 11 years been like for you?" She returns his question to him. "I mean," she admits, "I know some of it."

Alex narrows his eyes at her. "You've been keeping tabs on me, Lottie?"

She breaks eye contact away from him and shrugs but the smile that breaks through tells him everything he needs to know. He gets too much of a kick of that. "Well, you're not the easiest to avoid. I also did get really into your music after, you know, Brussels and all."

It pleases him until a realization drops his heart into his gut. He looks for a display of any reaction on her face but she keeps steady and walks ahead. He won't say it if she doesn't. Maybe she doesn't even know. Maybe only he paid attention to that kind of thing. Maybe only he paid attention to their hotel room number.

"I mean," he exhales loudly. "Everything you know is probably the extent."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on, in the last 11 years all you've done is music. That's not true."

And, sure, it's not, but it kind of is. He doesn't want to tell her about his ex-girlfriends and he doesn't need to indulge her in whatever stupid stories he has of LA. "I think it is. It sounds pretty depressing, doesn't it?"

She shakes her head. "I don't think so. You're living a pretty cool life. Unless you don't see it that way."

"No, it's just..."

"What?"

"I feel like I've been in the same place since I was 21. I'm stuck in some cycle that I can't stop. I know I've changed and I've had experiences. I mean, I lived in New York for a little and I've been in LA for a while but when you're touring for more than a year at a time for pretty much a decade, it's hard to feel significant changes."

"I feel the same way since moving back to Paris."

"Really?" It's hard to feel like anyone knows how he feels. Everyone around him has had big life changes and he feels...the same.

"Boston was a whirlwind but it was my 20s. Now, I get up and go to work every day and I go home and repeat it. I have friends and we go out for dinners but I'm not getting married, I'm not having children, and I'm not visiting Antarctica. I'm still. For years, I liked that feeling but now..."

He finishes, "You feel stuck."

"Yeah. I swear I'm not depressed. I'm not going to throw myself in the Seine or anything."

He chuckles. "No, no. I know what you mean. It's just growing pains."

"Pft," she says, "at 32 I thought that would be over with."

"I don't think it ever goes away."

"At least I'm not getting zits anymore."

"Small victories."

She points her finger out. "There's this park, the Luxembourg Gardens, down the road. It's beautiful if you'd like to go."

And just like before, where she leads, he will follow.

"My father died last year," she tells him.

He isn't sure what to say. For the first time, he touches her, places his hand on her arm. "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head and shrugs. "No need. I never really knew him."

"Oh," he says, "I didn't know that." He suddenly realizes that the perception he had of Lottie for the last decade has been shaped by one day, not even a full 24 hours. A time they spent together where he didn't even know that she never knew her father. 

"Yeah, I never—I don't talk about it very much. I feel like I've finally started to work through some of the childhood trauma shit that I swept under the rug for so many years. My parents' relationship was complicated."

"In what way? I don't mean to be nosy—"

She interrupts to reassure, "Never. You never are." She smiles over at him like a sunray. "I like telling you these things. It feels like a vessel I can put it in and send out to sea. I know you'll never tell another soul, right?"

He motions locking his lips and tossing the key. It makes her giggle and he forgot the thrill he got from doing that.

"My father was married when my maman had my brother and me. Never divorced his wife. I have a half-sister I've never met. She's like 20 years older than me."

Alex doesn't mean to have a visible reaction but he can't help but utter, "Wow."

"Yeah." She slips her hands into her jeans' pockets. "I don't know. I've been trying to work my way through all of it. I think I feel grief over it but I'm not sure if I'm mourning his death or the potential relationship we could have had."

"I don't know. I've never been in that type of situation with death. You know, the finality of everything. But with people that I've drifted away from, I imagine all these what-ifs." It's hard to ignore the person he's talking about is right next to him. "What I could have done differently to make them stay or like me or whatever but I've realized that no matter what you do it doesn't change the way the other person is. With your dad, I can't imagine not wanting to know you. Something must have been wrong with him."

"Probably," she agrees before laughing. The thickness of the conversation is split in two as they both laugh lightness into the air.

"So, you just grew up with your brother and mother?" Alex asks.

Lottie pulls a face, scrunching up her nose and pursing her lips. "I wish. My mom had her series of boyfriends. Some better, some worse. Nothing bad and she never married any of them but it was a weird revolving door. The longest one was the British diplomat. That's why my English is so good. Well, if I do say so myself."

"I still can't speak a lick of French so you're 1000 times better than me."

"I can't help it if I'm so fabulous," she jokes as she skips into the gardens. He's left watching her cheer from six paces behind. Mirth floods him and he feels a snap inside him like a glowstick coming to life. She's lit him up all over again. Prescribed him exactly what he needs. If he was smart, he'd leave now. He got his fix and he should go to the concert venue and leave it at that. He walks into the Luxembourg Gardens.

Alex follows her as she walks through the green parterre of gravel and lawn. The area is decently populated but the wide expansion of the park prevents any crowding. He can't stop staring at the back of her. It's not in some sexual desire way. He's not staring at her ass. He's not really focused on one area. He watches the way her trainers plant their way into the ground. The way her bandana flutters from the wind. The way her hair moves slightly side-to-side with each movement. He wonders if she takes him in this way. Noticed the way his loafers tap into one another every once in a while when he's walking. The way his hands are in his jacket to prevent the wind from blowing it around. The way he has had to keep pushing his hair behind his ears.

Then, she stops and sits in one of the metal chairs they have, Alex sits across from her, and she says, "Your hair is longer."

Witch! She must be psychic. He pushes his hair behind his ear again as if on instinct. "Yeah, that's different. It's changed a lot through the years."

"Yeah, I know. The quiff was a funny one."

"Are you mocking me?" He leans closer and teases. 

She giggles. "No, never."

"You don't look too different to me."

She scrunches her face up and scoffs, "Yeah, how plain am I."

Alex shakes his head slowly. "Not plain. You don't need to change anything about you. You were beautiful then and you're beautiful now." He's trending in territory he shouldn't but it makes her smile, like really smile. She turns her head away from him and covers her mouth with her hand.

"Whereas you still look ugly," she mocks with a smug smile.

His jaw opens dramatically. "You are mean, Lottie."

"I'm kidding," she reassures. "You've always been a charming-looking man."

"You make it sound like I'm some dandy."

Her face twists up again. "What's that?"

"A dandy?" She nods. "For once, I know something you don't."

"You know many things I don't."

"Yeah, right."

"I can't carry a tune to save my life. In fact, I should win an award for not attempting to ever play music."

"I don't know. I think if you applied yourself to it you could be good."

"Are you trying to recruit me to your music school, Mr. Turner?" It's the first time she's said his last name ever and he realizes he doesn't know hers.

"You could be a good triangle player." She punches his arm when he says that. He asks, "What's your last name?"

She smirks. "Guess."

"I don't know. Something really French."

"No. Guess."

"I don't know," he says again. "Something like Bonaparte or whatever."

"No. Guess."

"We're going to be here all day if you don't at least help me narrow it down."

She grabs hold of his face, hands on his cheeks, which are growing embarrassingly rosy. "My last name is Guess."

His face drops. "Wait. Your last name is Guess. Charlotte Guess."

"Yes and ew. Don't call me Charlotte."

He sighs loudly, "I don't know, Charlotte. You put me through a lot of trouble there."

She relinquishes her hold on his face and leans back in her chair. He's unnerved by how the cold rushes to his body as soon as she isn't close. "You'll manage."

She oozes cool, always has. She props a leg up on the chair and leans back with such freeness that wasn't there 11 years ago. She's not twisted up inside, she looks relaxed. He wants to ask her how to get there. Lately, he's felt like knots of stress. Any effort to dissipate has been met unsuccessfully because he can't put a finger on what's causing all of it.

"You know," she says, "I do have to interview you at some point."

He waves her off. "I know, I know, but I'm still adjusting to the fact that I'm seeing you right now. I want to know more about you."

That hint of a smile comes back to her cheeks. "Like what?" The tip of her shoe knocks on his shoe and he isn't sure what to make of it. Looks down and wishes he could take a photo of it.

"Do you still paint?"

She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head in disbelief. "You remember that I paint?"

Alex doesn't see it as a big deal. Why wouldn't he remember all those little things? "Yeah, and you're a decent cook, right?"

"Jesus," she lets out under her breath. A quickened heart rate and a brush of pink to her cheeks. "I don't even think my mother remembers I paint. I still do it from time to time. I was never very good at it."

He shakes his head. "I doubt that."

"You never seen anything I've painted."

"I don't need to see it to believe it. If you think it's bad it's probably better than what most people, including myself—especially myself—can do."

"Well, maybe if you're lucky I show you something."

"I'd like that." He hates how much he'd like that. "What do you paint?"

She shrugs. "This. That. Abstract kind of things. I like painting faces but I'm not very good at that. I get the proportions all mixed up."

"Like Magritte or something?" He chuckles.

She shakes her head. "Not quite. More like that botched restoration of that Jesus painting."

Alex can't help but think of the two of them standing before A Stroke of Luck and the cigar, but not a cigar painting (so, screw him, he can't remember the name of it). His mind can't help but reminisce on them in the park sitting in the grass afterward. Lottie, delicate and cherubic, picking flowers to place behind his ear, and then, kissing her. If he reaches out into the memory, he can practically still feel his hands on her skin. 

"Do you want to go to another art museum?"

"What like the Louvre?"

"Sure."

She laughs. "I am not going to the Louvre."

But Alex is already standing and reaching his hand out to her. "Come on, I've never been."

She sighs and places her hand in his. It's soft like a baby's freshly washed skin. His hand feels rough against the smooth surface, callouses old and new can be felt. Alex pulls her up out of her chair and they begin to walk to the park's exit. "How have you never been to the Louvre?"

"I've never had time," he explains. "Generally when I've visited Paris it's been for a limited number of days."

"But didn't you record the album in La Frette? Couldn't come in on a day off for the Louvre?" She's still holding his hand. He's not being responsible, he knows. 

In fact, he's passed irresponsible when he leans in close to her ear and says, "I missed when you didn't know anything about me."

She giggles and shrugs her shoulders. "I'm the one taking you to the Louvre at 1 in the afternoon with no tickets. I think you can manage the sacrifice."

"You must go all the time considering your job," Alex says.

Lottie says, "Oh, I haven't been to the Louvre in over a decade," before bursting out into laughter.

"And you're shaming me for having never gone?"

She lets go of his hand and wags her finger at him. "Hey, I have at least gone. Multiple times! And the Louvre isn't exactly a place getting new and upcoming art all the time." She drops her hand back down to her side. Their hands never re-intertwined. "The last time I went I was 17 and I made out in the staircase with Alain Millardet the whole time."

"So, you really saw all the sights." He follows her directions as they cross the street.

Lottie gags from the memory alone. "He was a horrible kisser and we ended up getting caught by an employee. They told our school—our Catholic school, by the way—and it was the only time I ever got in trouble. The only thing that lessened the blow was that my maman was away with her boyfriend and never found out."

"You were a goody-two-shoes in school," Alex teases.

Lottie squishes up her face. "What does that mean?"

He grins at the way her little button nose is scrunched up, her eyes slightly squinted, the wrinkle formed between her brows. "Just means you're a rule follower."

"Oh." She giggles. "I just didn't get caught." Every inch of her intrigues him. The secrets she has buried deep within that he has an eagerness to uncover. The flip of her hair as she walks her way down the streets. Her hands clutch the brown leather strap of her bag. Those blue eyes glancing over at him as ripples of laughter echo through her.

They begin to cross over the Seine when she tells him, "This is the Pont des Arts. It used to be covered in locks, you know, the thing where couples put a lock on the bridge and throw away the key, but they had to remove it after the bridge nearly collapsed, which thank god because I had one with my ex-boyfriend on it and I couldn't bear the thought that we would be locked here together eternally."

Alex chuckles and puts his hands in his pockets. "Me first girlfriend did that with the lock she used for her locker. At the end of the school year, she wrote our names on the back and locked it to a fence. About a month after we broke up, I walked by the fence she'd put it on and it was gone. She had gone back and removed it."

"Aw," she coos, "poor girl. You probably broke her heart."

"Thanks for your lack of pity for me, Lot." She grins at the nickname. "How do you know she didn't break my heart?"

"Because only a heartbroken girl would go back and remove the lock."

"Yeah."

Alex gazes up and spots the glass pyramid, realizing they've already made their way to the Louvre. The courtyard is populated with people taking pictures of and with the structure. Someone is playing violin, likely busking, in the distance. 

As they approach the building, Lottie gasps and then begins to laugh. "What?" Alex asks with a hint of his own reactive laughter.

She gives him a funny frown. "It's Tuesday, isn't it?"

Alex confusedly responds with a dragged-out "Yeah."

She snickers. "The Louvre is closed on Tuesdays."

They both just take to laughing in the middle of all the tourists. Lottie clutches his forearm, which he reciprocates, making their arms plank over each other. Then, Lottie suddenly stops, stands up straight, and looks him in the eye, saying, "Time for me to interview you."

 Alex chuckles, "Nice try." He takes to guiding them out of the courtyard, walking ahead of her. "Where to next?"

She's right behind him. Alex can feel the edge of her bag touch his butt. "Are you trying to get me fired?"

The pleasure he gets out of taunting her should probably be illegal. "You'll get your interview," he promises. "I've already given you so much unknown information. I've never been to the Louvre, still to this day, my French is horrible, and I'm desperate to see some art so why don't you show me some of yours."

They pause at a crossing. "Are you trying to invite yourself to my apartment?" She has a habit of making him flustered easily. Her fluttering lashes flapped away at him. He swears they blow an ocean breeze his way.

He plays a tricky game. "Well, if we go to your apartment, maybe you'll finally get your interview." The light flashes green and he walks ahead.

She trails behind fighting a crooked grin. "I highly doubt that."

Alex hums.

Either way, they headed off in the direction of her place. Down the stairs to the metro where they wait for the 4 train. The platform is sparsely crowded, predictable for a Tuesday afternoon just before rush hour. 

"I have to say something." Her demeanor is coy. She's holding her hand in a fist up against her mouth. Her eyes peer up at him demurely. "I've been debating whether to say it or not but I figure out with it. No secrets, you know."

Alex nods curiously. "Okay."

"The song."

The two words make a chill go through him. Spins around his spine and hits each vertebrae. She does know. He can't help but physically react, muttering, "Oh, god," and placing his hand on his forehead in exasperation.

She giggles at his reaction. He is only calmed by the fact that she doesn't sound pissed. Still, he feels embarrassed. "It's one of your most popular songs."

Alex doesn't care. He lived up off the hope that she had somehow missed that one. Or she only ever listened to the most recent album for her work assignment. When he wrote it, it was felt under the impression he would see her again. Not under the impression that in 11 years he would be standing on a metro platform with her about to be interviewed by her. 

He re-establishes himself. He gets his footing, drops his hand from his face, and looks over at her. She's still looking amused by his reaction. The train pulls up to the station. "Which one?"

He is able to get a chuckle in when her jaw drops slightly. Feeling he has the upper hand, he hops on the train, having her dash behind him. Alex finds two empty seats and takes a seat next to the window. Lottie sits down next to him.

She seems to have composed herself. Tight jaw and curious lips. "Now, I meant 505, what are you on about?"

Alex shrugs. "Pft, who said 505 was about you?" He is staring straight ahead, calm, cool, and collected.

Her eyes are glued to him, watching his every move. "I'm not an idiot, Alex, I can read. Our hotel room was 505."

"Oh, what a weird coincidence." He is almost chuckling with pride in his humorous fibbing abilities. 

"Come on. I doubt many girls were lying on their side with their hands between their thighs for you, Alex." That memory strikes him hard. If he closes his eyes for long enough, he can still trace the outline of her body in his mind, memorizing every crevice.

He chuckles with a wide grin. "It was a nice memory."

She crosses her arms in a pleased manner. "I knew it was about me."

"Yeah, well, I had a lovely time with you." His eyes are intently on hers. A knowing smile is splashed across his face. 

She returns the favour. They are in a duel with their eyes, fighting grins in their smiles. "Me too."

"Good."

She leans in closer. "Now, what's this other song about me?"

Alex looks away from her, gazing at the station they are approaching. "I think this is our stop."

He tries to stand up and she grabs his arm and yanks him back down. "Shush. You have no clue where we are even getting off."

Her hand stays gripping his forearm, keeping them steady. His gaze is resistant if ever pleasurable. His eyes trained on the doors and unsure of what to say, tossing between giving it up or burying it away. He plays with his hands, bringing them together, and then apart, and then back together. "I wrote this song, you know, in the, uh, hypothetical sense."

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, whatever that means. Out with it. You know, people are usually flattered by the thought someone would think of them enough to write a song about them. Let alone two."

"Alright," he calms. "The song isn't really all about you. I guess, you sparked the original idea."

She gestures for him to continue. "And?"

"Cornerstone."

She leans back against the train's wall. A small smirk plays on her face. "Really? You were seeing me all around town?"

He can't help but smile, although, forced to shield it behind his hands covering the surface area of his face. "Don't make me sound like a creep."

"No, no. It all feels like flattery." She looks like she wants to say something else but keeps it to herself. He's tempted to ask but she's pointing slowly to the train station and softly saying, "This is our stop."

They get up as the train stops. The doors stay closed though. "Flip the handle up," Lottie says.

He grabs hold of the door handle and follows her instructions. The door opens at a quick speed. So quick that Alex, still with his hand on the handle, nearly gets his arm yanked off. Lottie erupts in laughter behind him. He sucks in a breath and steps off the train. She places her hands on his shoulder as she follows behind him, too blind with laughter to properly guide herself. 

"You're really making a fool out of me today." Alex turns around as they ride the escalator up.

She's still emitting giggles when she says, "I'm sorry. It was too tempting though."

Her apartment is just outside the metro station. The building, Haussmann in style, is cold and dark in the stairwell. Lottie tells him to watch his step as they head to the second floor before she flips on a switch outside her door. Before she unlocks it, she turns and tells him, "I'm a messy person and you have rudely barged in on me so you can not judge."

Alex agrees and she unlocks the door. She has, of course, exaggerated the mess of the place. It's a loft of a decent size. Her bed is in the far corner, unmade with a plum-coloured mandala-printed blanket thrown over it. Clothes from this morning are strewn about the floor. Her kitchen is small and her plate from breakfast is still in the sink. In the back corner, across from her bed is a collection of canvases. They are all turned inward making him unable to look at any of them.

Lottie stands awkwardly in the kitchen, hands behind her back, bobbing on her feet. "Do you want anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Water? Alcohol?"

He chuckles at her delivery, struck by her grace. "I'll take a tea."

"Okay." She busies herself with that as he examines the room closely. A shelf of books piled to the brim. There's a vase of flowers on a lower shelf. On the bottom: a record collection. He smiles to himself. "Can I put on a record?"

"Sure," she absentmindedly says. She's showing Alex her tea packets: black, green, mint, ginger. Black, he picks. 

She stills at the opening strings. Her heart patters at the clacking of the castanets. I found my love in Portofino...

She dips the tea bags into the hot water and turns around. She leans against the counter, staring at him at the place he has taken on her small loveseat. "You know, I got a record player because of this album."

His arms are crossed and he looks pleased with himself. "Inspiring a new generation to buy records. You know, AM is one of the best-selling vinyls of the 2010s."

She squints playfully. "Are you usually this boastful about yourself?"

"Stop, you're making me feel like a self-absorbed asshole."

Lottie crosses her arms, playing his game back to him. "What's the saying? If the shoe fits."

"Hush now. Sit." He pats the seat beside him. The air is thick and she cuts through it by walking over to him with two cups of tea. 

She prompts hopefully, "Interview time?"

Alex ignores her. "You know, I went and bought my own copy of this."

"The record?"

He nods. "God, I'm such a dweeb."

She shakes her head. "No. It's a good record."

He gazes over at her knowingly. His chin is tilted down and his eyes are blazing at her. "I didn't buy it because it was a good record."

Suddenly, she breaks. "You can't do that."

Alex gets the message, turns away, and focuses on the warm mug in his hand. "I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No," she reassures, calm and clear, "it's fine. I just can't sit next to you in my apartment with you saying things like that and not..."

"Not?" He tries to get more out of her.

She gazes over at him knowingly. Her chin is tilted down and her eyes are blazing at him. "You know."

He nods.

"I still have that photo of you. The one I took on that hill. It's buried deep in a drawer somewhere." She's tempting him and she knows it. She's not abandoning the topic of their romantic evening. She's not insisting on conducting an interview. She's flirting.

Alex smiles back pleased. "I probably look like a dork."

"Yeah," she dryly agrees making him laugh. "But a cute dork."

"Whenever I came to Paris, I would walk around, duck into all these cafes, and I had these visions of seeing you there. That's where Cornerstone came from," Alex confesses.

"I changed therapists because of you," Lottie confesses.

"What?"

She leans on her arm against the back of the couch. "It wasn't because I moved away. I came back from Brussels and told her about you and she said that you were a fantasy but not a realistic man. I shouldn't get my hopes up on delusions and should invest myself in some reliable man. That I was falling for a rockstar who probably did that thing all the time. The whole time she's saying this to me, I'm thinking, 'She has no fucking clue what she's talking about. Reliablity? Who has reliability at 21? My porn-addict boyfriend.'"

Alex laughs. "I still really love this porn-addict boyfriend of yours."

"Well, you and my therapist." The room goes quiet. She sinks into a corner of the couch and sighs. "So, you were the final straw."

"I've done that cafe shit every time I've been to Paris."

"What?" She sits up straighter.

"I just—I've always wanted to talk to you again. It felt weird when you didn't show up in July. I figured, or maybe hoped, something big happened for you not to be there."

She's stiff and awkward and looks down at her legs, awkwardly stiff. "I tried to be there. I wanted to. You have to know, if it weren't for the program, I would've. I mean, I still go to your shows, and listen to your records, and, for crying out loud, I harrassed my boss into letting me interview you. He probably thinks I'm some obsessive fan."

"Harrassed?" He raises an eyebrow in amusement.

Lottie looks up sheepishly with a shy smile. "Yeah, well, at this rate, I'm not even gonna have an interview."

"You'll have an interview. I'll give you the best fucking interview." There's something in the way he looks at her. The tone of his voice makes her believe he is a lion and she's the gazelle he's waiting to maul. But those eyes, soft and dreamy. Eyes she could fall asleep next to every night.

"And then you look at me like that and you think you're the soppy one. I'm falling to bits over here. I've felt crazy for 11 years but then you look at me like that."

"Why'd you feel crazy?"

"I thought I made the whole thing up in my head. Like I was some psycho who imagined a whole night with you just because I liked your song. I mean, I ruined every relationship because I was hung up on you."

"What?"

"And now I'm ruining any possible relationship with you by blabbing on about this. I can't help it, you've infected me, you've ruined me, and I sound crazy." She's messing with her hair to really emphasize this fact. "But I'm stuck on the Boston T, riding the slowest train ever, sitting next to this guy I'm about to marry, and we have nothing to talk about, and all I'm thinking is 4 years ago I got on the wrong train." 

Her breathing is heavy. Rattling and refusing to calm her heart down. She can't distinguish what his eyes mean.

Alex is quiet when he speaks. "Fucking hell, Lot."

Any move he thinks about making is interrupted when she quickly stands from the couch and separates herself from him by pacing in the kitchen. She clutches her hands around her face, cheeks trying red. She takes a deep breath and says, "I think you should leave. I'm sorry for that whole display. I'm so lost in myself and I'm crazy and I'm sorry."

Alex stands and takes a step toward her. She takes one back like they are the same side of a magnet repelling one another. "Lottie."

"I'm sorry."

He takes a moment for himself too. Runs his hands through his hair, heart pounding he puts his hand over to still it and takes a deep breath. "No," he insists. "First, you're not crazy. Second, I haven't seen you in 11 years and I have thought about you for too long to let you go—go on that other train again." Something chokes him inside. Maybe it's the guilt, the thought of his girlfriend back home. Maybe it's Lottie, who looks two steps away from crying, and all he can think about is being left on that train platform again. "Third, we have to do the interview."

"Oh, god, that stupid interview." And then he laughs. So, she laughs.

Alex attempts to step toward her again, cautiously like she's a cat he is afraid he is going to scare off. She stays in her place. He leans down and hugs her. She's hesitant but then she hugs back. Tight like they are each a moment away from slipping out of one another's grasp. 

Alex pulls away, but keeps an arm around her back, pushing them toward her front door. "So, let's go eat some lunch and do an interview."

She sniffles and then smiles over at him in a remorseful manner. "Okay."

They head to the cafe on the street corner. The conversation grew lighter and Alex joked that he still didn't get to see her paintings. She countered that she still hadn't interviewed him.

On opposite sides of the table, each holds a cigarette and chats over an ashtray. Lottie asks him questions regarding the album and Alex answers formally, which is almost too proper and comes off more jokey than serious. Nonetheless, she quotes him on it. 

He grows hot and takes his jacket off, halfway through, around the time their dishes arrive. The interview, more-or-less, ends there as they each inhale their meals and split the stack of bread. "I'll be here tomorrow too, you know."

She nods. Of course, she knows.

"We could do the Louvre then."

She smiles with amusement at him. "You're really obsessed with the Louvre."

"I'm determined to go and now to get you to go. Maybe we'll makeout in the stairway and get caught by one of the nuns." The comment is cheeky and they both laugh at it, even if it should hold more guilty weight than it does.

A woman then approaches them. She's old, enough to be someone's great-grandmother. She speaks in French to Lottie, who has grown a furrowed brow, as she repeatably says no to the woman, who holds up a necklace at her. 

"What's she saying?" Alex inquires.

Lottie sighs and says warningly, "Alex."

The woman smiles big and looks over at Alex. She speaks very broken English, but tells him, "Her neck, nothing." She gestures over to Lottie's bare neck, the way her top pulls down (notes of cleavage, but he's got to get his mind out of the gutter), accentuating the bareness of it. Alex has shameful thoughts in remembrance of kissing it. Fuck, he's screwed, if the pull of his pants says anything. The woman holds the necklace high in her hand. "For beauty. Beautiful woman needs beauty."

Lottie begins to speak in French to the woman as Alex wordlessly reaches into his wallet and pulls out a bill. The woman lights up in delight and accepts the €20 as Lottie shakes her head. "Her ears, nothing," the woman tries to push more.

Alex cheerfully says, "No, no, just the necklace. Merci beaucoup." The woman attempts again but Alex ignores her and her English is too poor to keep trying for another sale.

Lottie is staring at him. He can't decipher if it's a look of pleasure or unease. "You shouldn't have done that."

"The necklace is nice and I gave the poor woman some money. Now put it on."

She stays still for a moment but gives in and sits up to accept the necklace. It's simple. A chain with a small blue pendant on the bottom. It matches her eyes. She mutters a thank you, if for the gesture alone. After a few careful tries, she clasps the necklace. "I'll probably get some sort of infection from it."

He chuckles. "Probably."

They sit in silence with one another. They are stuck in the middle of a staring contest where fireworks spark between them. Alex breaks it and looks down at his empty plate, a flush of shyness overcoming him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Are you interviewing me now?" She giggles, pleased with her joke.

"Hey! I let you get all your questions in. It's my turn," he insists.

She relaxes back in her chair and crosses her legs. "Okay."

"What do you think would have happened if you got on the train with me? Or if you showed up to the concert?" 

It draws a rough breath out of her. "We wouldn't have worked out."

His heart stills. It's not the answer he expected. All that wishful thinking that had swirled in his mind for the last 11 years. The feeling that if he had been able to convince her or was able to find her, they'd be living happily ever after. "Really?

She shakes her head. "Are you kidding? I was a mess. I had no idea of a future for myself. I would have been in Paris or Boston and you would have been on the road all the time. I would've definitely been one of those girls who thought you were cheating on her the whole time. I probably would have convinced myself of it and not believed you when you told me the truth. I was born the product of an affair. It is my blueprint to assume every guy I'm with is getting it somewhere else."

Alex feels hungover with guilt at the thought that what he is doing right now might as well be an affair, if only emotionally. He sighs, "Yeah, I mean, I was a mess for like...forever." They both laugh. "Every time I feel like I've gotten my shit together. Something comes along to pull the rug out from under me."

"What's it this time?" She's staring at him, doe-eyed and smiling. 

He can't think of an excuse. So, he's honest. "You."

She's not offended by it. She smiles, though she does try and suppress it. "We should probably go to the venue. Right?"

Alex nods like hiding himself from the Parisian streets will get him out of this mess. Lottie insists on paying the bill, mainly because she isn't paying the bill, her work is. They could take a car over to the venue but Alex is overly enthusiastic about riding the metro over. "I have to redeem my shame. You know, in London we just have the button, so I can't be blamed for not knowing how to open the train door."

Lottie rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

At the venue, Alex gives Lottie a quick introduction to his bandmates. He says nothing more than, "This is Lottie, the journalist," but they all respond with knowing looks. Alex gives her a tour, mostly through her insistence that it would be cool for the article if she could set the scene for the reader. Alex says, "You're a painter with your words." She rolls her eyes and he gives her the tour.

"And a soundcheck, what's that like?" She asks before, you guessed it, soundcheck.

Alex shrugs. He tends to be short with answers for most interviews, but with Lottie it's different. Not once has it felt like he is being interviewed. He's not sure if that's a good or bad thing. "It's...good. You know, making sure everything works. Good, fun."

She's cheery with her questions like the kid who constantly raises their hand in class but she's endearingly earnest and the way she scribbles notes in her little notepad makes it feel so much more authentic than when someone sits a tape recorder in on their conversation.

She watches soundcheck in the same way. She'll write a little note at the end of each song but then she'll rest in her chair and observe the full play out.

Backstage, Alex separates himself and Lottie from the rest of the group, which is notable. He wishes they were walking around still, escaping all their responsibilities just like they were doing in Brussels. He supposes that's growing up.

Lottie says, "It's good. Last time I was a bumbling clueless girl with no idea of her future. Now, I'm a bumbling clueless woman with no idea of her future."

"Oh, come on, you have a great job. You're interviewing me and that might be one of the hardest tasks ever and you're doing amazing," Alex reassures.

She nods. "I know. I love my job but that's all I have. It's crazy when we were in Brussels, all I wanted was to figure out what I wanted to be. I finally did that and I feel just as lost."

"In what way?"

She thinks for a moment, deciding how she wants to form her words. "I wish I was like my old self more. You know, I used to be so hopeful, so romantic about the world. About myself. About the future. Now, I just think I'm going to be alone forever." She is quick to correct herself. "And—and I don't mean I have nobody. I have a great set of friends. I love my life but when I look toward the future, I see nothing. For so long, I didn't know what I wanted but there were always possibilities. Now, I don't know." 

"I feel the same way," Alex confesses.

Lottie lifts her head in surprise. "Really?"

He nods. "It's what used to be so exciting about my life. Being in a new city every day and being able to set your own path. I still like most of that stuff but I feel behind everyone else in a way. You know, like how all the guys have kids and I don't think I'm ready for kids but should I be ready for kids? Do I want that? To be married? To have a family?"

"I don't think you're ever ready for that kind of thing. You are just ready for the feeling. You'll never be prepared enough for children that's what everyone says but I had a thought a while ago when, well, I had this pregnancy scare, which really was terrifying because the guy I was with is not a guy you want to have children with. My first thought for so long would have been 'I don't want children. I will not be birthing anything in my lifetime.' But when I had this scare, I think I liked the idea. Then, the test was negative and I breathed a huge sigh of relief." Alex chuckles at her dramatics as she talks with her hands. "But for those couple of minutes, I thought that being a mother wouldn't be so bad."

Alex smiles at her. "You'd be a great mother."

She looks up at him, all hopeful and disbelieving. "Do you really think so?" 

Alex nods. "A few anti-depressants and you'll be fine."

Lottie rolls her eyes and raises her hands and starts moving her fingers. "Say stop."

"Stop."

She stops, extending her middle fingers only, flipping him off. 

"That's good. Can I steal that?"

Lottie shrugs. "I don't have copyright on it."

A stagehand comes over and they realize how much time has escaped from them. Alex shuffles fixing his jacket as he stands, going into rockstar mode. "How'd I look?" He imitates a deep voice, gruffly and surly.

She giggles. "Like an asshole."

"You're so kind to me, Lottie."

"Maybe lose the jacket," she advises. Total professional opinion and not because he has three buttons loose on that white button-up that make her crave his skin. She's going too far, she knows, but she's a single woman. It's fine for her to observe.

Alex shakes his head and tightens his hands around the lapels. "I'm going to keep it on just to spite you." (He takes it off 4 songs in).

She walks him up the stairs to the stage but then says teasingly, "I'm going to watch from my assigned seat if that's alright with you."

He chuckles. "I'll look for you in the crowd."

She turns to leave and it's almost like she's fading from him all over again. Sure, they could get drinks after this and there's that rough plan for the Louvre tomorrow, but the image of her back to him walking away strikes something in him. "Hey, Lottie!" He calls out.

Alex catches her before she walks down the stairs. She turns around, curious eyes, curious smile. He's 21 and he's on a train to Brussels. He's 32 and he's in a cafe in Paris. No more what could have been. He knows.

"I think it would have worked out." 

Lottie looks at him from across the wing. He toys with his fingers, hopeful eyes, hopeful smile. She's 21 and she's on a train platform in Brussels. She's 32 and she's backstage at a concert in Paris. No more doubts. She knows.

"I think so too." 

*

a/n: part 3? i don't know. maybe...

[jiggy-manda]

hiiii

please write about Amanda Young x fem!reader :)

she gets very jealous and furry when someone flirts with us :)))))

jealous!amanda young x fem!reader

warnings: none… age gap kinda? obv amanda is in her 30s but reader is in her 20s so just take that how you will

wc: 1.6k

your situation with jigsaw and the apprentices was… different.

you weren’t an apprentice, per se, but you also weren’t completely a victim; you floated around somewhere in between. like a middle-man, almost. you were never directly involved with the crimes, though you were definitely knowledgeable of them. you’d been tested as well, but for some reason it seemed like your test wasn’t… as brutal.

you’d talked to amanda a few times, mainly when you were begging to be let go and she was busy laughing at you. some part of you kind of thought she went easy on you, but you couldn’t tell if that was true or if it was just you making up things to cope with what had happened.

ever since your test, you’d been staying with john and the apprentices— which you later learned was not normal for other jigsaw victims. you never found out why, but there was always a slight feeling in your brain that the lingering looks from his female apprentice had something to do with it.

either way, it was something you chose not to dwell on because you knew it would only lead to more questions and more disappointment.

it felt pointless to continue stewing over it, so for the next few minutes you continued on in your notebook, writing down different plans john or the apprentices had mentioned over time and looking over the new list of people and their offenses.

you were so busy reading a file on some new contraption that you didn’t even notice the shadowy figure suddenly hovering above you.

mark hoffman was perched on the side of your desk with one leg hanging off the edge. “what are you working on?”

amanda quietly scoffed at his presence from her makeshift bedroom, a bit in shock that you would even entertain the man. you, on the other hand, were just looking for a way to exit the conversation with him.

looking up at mark, you quickly realized he was way too close— you could smell his cologne, or lack thereof.

she tried not to keep looking at you, but amanda couldn’t help but stare. she smirked as she watched, noting how you subtly crinkled your nose when he leaned towards you.

amanda has never liked hoffman. hoffman, not mark— she’d never dare give him the pleasure of addressing him by his name. she never liked him, but she disliked him even more when he interacted with you. in the back of her mind, a small part of her thought he just continued to talk to you simply to piss her off. he’s not completely clueless; he knows how to push amanda’s buttons. he’d probably talk to you even if he didn’t like you just to fuel his vendetta against the small brunette.

she didn’t like it when he was around you.

“…oh, you know. just, traps and stuff, i guess…”

“you guess?” he laughed at that. “c’mon sweetheart, you gotta have more confidence than that.”

you sighed, setting down the pencil you’d been holding to look up at him. “do you need something, mark?”

“oh come on, don’t be like that,” he replied. “you barely talk to any of us! i’m just trying to get to know you.”

you looked down at the hands you had eventually clasped and set against your desk. you then gave him a tight smile. “okay… what do you want to know?”

he grinned. “you got a boyfriend?”

you instinctively recoiled back, hoping the disgust you felt didn’t show on your face. if you asked amanda, she would’ve said it did— but she wasn’t even watching, of course not.

taking a moment to clear your throat, you met his gaze to respond. “no, i don’t.”

the brooding woman in her makeshift bedroom finally spoke up, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “but i’m sure she’d love to hear a proclamation of love from a man twice her age.”

he turned his head towards amanda, the force of his movements causing even his body to shuffle. “can’t you just mind your business?” he shot back.

you were planning on jumping in, eventually— but the decision of what to say was still playing around in your mind. to be fair, you were in a borderline cult of serial killers, so your sexual preferences really should be the least of their concerns.

“whatever you say, old man. im just pointing out the obvious, that’s all. i don’t think a woman your age would even go for you, honestly.” the corner of amanda’s lip turned into a grin when she saw mark’s hand twitch.

“you know what, smartass?” he said, slamming his palms on your desk as he stood up. “you wanna say that again? what the hell is your problem?”

amanda pushed herself off of the perch she called a bed. “you’re my problem, asshat. you think you’re so much better than me and everyone else just because you’re some high class detective who’s never failed a drug test in his life,” she spat out.

mark got closer to amanda, nearly backing her up to one of the desks close by. at this point, your brain had finally started working again, so you rushed to get between the two.

“okay, can we please be a bit rational here?”

you were facing mark, watching as the upper part of his mouth twitched, and you just managed to keep a straight face when amanda mumbled something about ‘his lip injections going haywire.’

“and can you please sit down?” you finally addressed both of them. they both grumbled as they made their own separate ways to take their places.

clearing your throat, you returned to your seat and ran your hands through your hair. “she’s not completely wrong,” you said as you faced the man who’d started this whole thing. “i don’t mind if someone’s older than me,” you started, looking back at amanda to correct her comment.

you looked back at mark, studying his face before finishing your statement. “but i don’t date men.”

amanda, for once, was happy your attention was focused on mark and not herself. she did not need you to see the shock (intrigue) on her face at that revelation.

mark just stared at you for a few moments, not quite sure what to say.

“oh.”

“yeah,” you started, your face starting to heat up at all the attention on you. it didn’t help that the topic of the matter was your sexuality and love life. “so. um… yeah.”

“then… you got a girlfriend?”

amanda perked up at this, wishing she could appear less interested.

“nope,” you let out with a sigh. “but it’s whatever. i like it here anyways, working on traps and helping out.”

“sure,” he said, scanning the room. it seemed like he didn’t really know what to do at that point… it was clear that flirting with you was his only objective, so it’s not like you had anything else to talk about. “i’m gonna go ask john about one of the next traps but i’ll be back soon.”

you nodded, while amanda gave a “yeah, whatever.” you tried not to laugh at their back-and-forth demeanor. it was clear they didn’t like each other— though, you weren’t a very big fan of mark either. you had a hard time believing anyone was, really.

amanda, however… you weren’t quite sure how to feel about her. you never interacted much; mark made more of an effort to talk to you, and you didn’t even like him. if anything, you were confused by amanda.

she didn’t really talk to you, but for some reason it was like she didn’t want anyone else talking to you either. on the rare times that she did give you more than a few minutes of her attention, she would snap at anyone who interrupted the conversation— anyone besides john, of course.

“so you’re gay?”

the question struck you out of your thoughts, nearly making you jump. you turned and faced amanda completely, pausing a few minutes to take in her presence.

“yeah.”

“cool.��

a few silent seconds passed before amanda spoke again with a slight smile playing at her face. “me too.”

“yeah?” you tilted your head, meeting her eyes.

“yeah… and i really didn’t like seeing hoffman flirt with you,” she replied.

you paused, not sure whether you should push it any further. “amanda young,” you said with a dramatic gasp. “were you… jealous?”

she immediately scoffed, rolling her eyes where she stood. “you wish.”

“i think you were,” you replied, taking a step closer. you tilted your head to the side and looked into her eyes. “i’m not stupid, amanda. you’re not subtle in the way you snap at everyone who tries to interact with me.”

her face slightly flushed at that. “that’s not true,” she sputtered out. “i snap at everyone.”

“pfft, yeah, whatever,” you let out.

“im serious,” she said, taking hold of your arm. you looked down at your arm and then back up at her, raising your brow. she quickly let go of it and brought her arm back. “i just don’t like people,” she reasoned. “it’s nothing personal.”

“sure.”

“whatever,” she huffed out. if looks could kill, you would’ve been six feet under by now. you didn’t know a small body could hold so much rage, but you figured you’d save the psychoanalytics for later.

it was clear that you’d gotten under her skin, and a small part of you felt a bit of pride that you’d gotten the usually stoic girl to stutter and blush.

you grinned, making your way back to your desk covered in blueprints and plans. “and amanda,” you started. “let me know if you ever want to… collaborate.”

a/n: yayyyy more amanda fics 😙😙 this was really fun to write <3 i might make another part? idk i feel like leaving the ending open was kinda fun 🫣

[blacklegsanjiii]

i absolutely adore your young sanji au!! If you don't mind, could you write more about him? Like, how did the other crews that know him react to his actual age? Or even some random interactions between the straw hats after finding out!

I'M TRYING TO BE ALIVE AGAIN I PROMISE I AM SO SORRY

Young!Sanji!!! Ahh, lovely boy, precious and soft and absolutely hating everyone find out how old he actually is. He feels no one takes him seriously after they find out. They always falter and stumble and it just...doesn't feel good to him?

I feel like Law finding out would full on make him trip and face plant into the ground because Robin probably mentions it off handedly but knowingly. She knows Sanji doesn't like Law calling him Stealth Black and this seems to be the quickest way for her to stop it. Sanji is walking ahead of them to a tea house somewhere while they're in Wano. Like she specifically phrases it in a way to show how cruel Judge is and when Law full stumbles it makes Sanji look and ask what's wrong. Law is stumbling up onto his feet and is confused and asks Sanji if he's really /seventeen/ and Sanji says he is with a shrug. Law knows he's not the youngest on the crew but understands because of his love of the Sora comics that they were closer to the truth than he had realized, even after the raid suit. Germa was far worse than he knew to even its own children. When they're sat and drinking tea, Law can't help but ask why he is physically not seventeen. Sanji just goes 'ahaha, that's Germa for you' and Law is reeling that the cook is also a child on the crew. Law doesn't really change how he acts with the cook though, he doesn't see his age, only his accomplishments which are numerable even if he was twenty one, he just admires the guy more now.

Sanji is not pleased at how people keep trying to baby him after finding out how old he is and how his family is, the rescue team is especially bad. Chopper keeps asking for more and more check ups on him and Sanji is trying to just deal with it, Zoro seems to be holding back during their spars when he doesn't have to be, when they're out at a bar he keeps stealing Sanji's drinks even though he's not even buzzed yet and Zoro hates wine. Zoro, for the life of him he doesn't want to view the cook differently, but finding out about the experiments and how young Sanji was when he went through everything that led him to Zeff makes him softer. He fucking hates it but he feels like he needs to give the cook an actual chance at being a child that was denied to him. Even if he didn't get a chance he and the other kids at the dojo did play as well as train, especially when they were younger, before he left and he plays with Luffy and Chopper all the time. So when he assists Robin and Nami with the cook and making the guy take breaks. He's started doing the dishes fully on his own and shoving the cook out of the kitchen after meals.

I feel like when Zeff found out his kid wasn't ten, his kid is six and looks ten. Zeff frowns deeply at the boy who acts like a ten year old in a lot of ways, most ways, a fucked up and traumatized one albeit, but he's still ten. Except he's not and Sanji's age really shows when people flirt or try to take him to their ships for activities more fitting for an adult or teenager. Except he's not one of those, he's twelve when someone first propositions him and Zeff loses it at the customer and talks to Sanji about what they're doing, what people want from him and that he gets to decide if he wants to or not. Because Sanji is physically four years older than he actually is and Zeff wants to kill the fucking bastard that did this to the kid. Zeff knows his kid is younger than he looks but he treats the boy like how he holds himself, he's smart, impulsive, thinks he owes his life to Zeff when he doesn't. Goddammit Zeff wants him to act like a damn kid but the kid doesn't want to! Kid feels like he can't because the kid needs to be useful so on the rare nights the Baratie is closed Zeff and the others will take the kid out to the upper deck or the top of the restaurant and teach him the constellations and if the kid falls asleep it's all the better.

The kid will never act his real age, but he has people to make sure he's taken care of. That's more than enough for Sanji.

[yanderes-galore]

Hiii! Can I request a Yandere Concept for Maki Harukawa from Danganronpa please?

Sure! I never really finished V3 but I did do my research as usual! Can't believe so many people hate her....

Yandere! Maki Harukawa Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Attempted murder, Blood, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Isolation, Implied dubious turned forced companionship/relationship.

Maki is someone that's very hard to approach, especially in this setting.

It's normal to be distrustful of people in a Killing Game.

It's easy to think someone somewhere is plotting something, it's just a matter of time before someone strikes.

Maki is already quite isolated and deceptive, which can make many people wary.

First of all, she hides her true talent from people.

She Isolates herself and can come off cold towards others.

She isn't a people person.

Even towards her obsession at the start... She doesn't really want to be around anyone.

As the Killing Game goes on, she only really trusts Kaito and Shuichi.

She may trust her obsession similar to how she trusts those two.

Although... It's shown that Maki isn't good with relationships of any kind or social situations.

At a young age she was forced to kill.

Which doesn't do well for a child when it comes to social life.

She struggles with friendships, let alone relationships.

Around her obsession she'd struggle to understand her feelings.

She likes your presence of all people but isn't sure how to approach.

Maki doesn't like the thought of hurting you in any way.

Be that emotionally or physically, she doesn't want you hurt in this game by her or anyone else.

I feel at first Maki would want you to keep your distance due to this.

She knows you'd be better off if you didn't befriend her.

Others may suspect you of something and you could get into unnecessary trouble.

She hates unnecessary trouble.

Although... You still manage to be both persistent yet respectful.

Your interactions are often a bit cold, yet Maki tries not to cause too much damage with her words.

Please... She doesn't need you crying because she said something a little bit rude.

Don't misunderstand her rude behavior, she wouldn't take joy in bullying you.

She's just trying to wall herself off from you.

She likes being alone and your conversations are brief.

But she can't help but listen in on conversations where you're mentioned.

Just because she knows she shouldn't be close to you doesn't mean she won't listen in on you.

Maki most likely cares for you in her own way, she just isn't sure how to properly show that.

Speaking with Maki, if you can even call your early conversations that, is difficult at times.

She's another who's hard to read and she likes it that way.

It saves her from having to explain her internal turmoil about you with you.

Maki would eventually become friends with you, but not without scouting you out first.

She quietly watches you from a distance, noting how you interact with others.

She's cautious, knowing you could be a potential target.

She learns about you through these... "observations".

She's no doubt skilled at it due to being the Ultimate Assassin, even if no one knows that.

Even when she gives in and becomes your ally, no doubt due to Kaito encouraging her when he notices her concern for you, Maki is still wary of others around you.

She's not the most trustful or trusting person, which makes her suspect your fellow classmates of planning something.

Maki's intentions can be left dubious for this due to how she is with relationships.

She'd want her obsession safe, and out of anyone here, she may be the best suited for that due to her Ultimate.

She doesn't plan on murdering anyone, yet she'd quickly be the one to prevent it if you were the target.

So in terms of her yandere type, she's mostly lucid and would be defensive.

She rarely takes her eyes off her obsession, often looking for anything suspicious.

For the longest time she thought she wasn't worthy of relationships.

She's a murderer, yet has people standing beside her.

She knows you probably deserve better... especially when you're trapped in a Killing Game.

Maki may use her true talent to her advantage, never making the first move yet stepping in to pull you from unwanted situations.

Anything from awkward conversations to threats... Maki steps in and offers to drag you out of it.

Most people may not target you due to seeing how Maki watches you like a hawk.

She even feels anxious when she sees a bit of blood on you, even if it was due to an accident.

Maki may even sacrifice sleep at times to make sure no one picks you off.

No one matters more to her than you.

She doesn't care where your dorm is, she's going to find a way to monitor you somehow.

If anyone attacked you or plotted to harm you, Maki's there in an instant.

Even more so if her Ultimate has been revealed.

She's quick to pull the knife out, standing in front of you with a feral glare in her eyes.

The blood on her clothes would always be out of defense.

Jealousy doesn't typically occur in her, if it does, she hides it.

Maki may subconsciously isolate you.

It's instinctual to her due to the situation.

You could easily fall victim here if she's not with you.

Be you friends, or something else, Maki would rather be executed due to protecting you than watching you die.

She can't believe she cares for someone this much.

But anything is better to her than watching the person she cares the most about covered in blood.

She's violent towards others at times due to her paranoia.

She cares about you... so she often holds a softer gaze and tone with you.

She feels that she's the only one capable of caring and protecting you.

Maki isn't necessarily possessive, even if she may come off like that when she threatens other classmates.

She's more... protective.

She watches over her obsession like a protective guardian, fitting of a caregiver regardless of how she feels.

It may go against the rules, but she may keep you in her dorm at times.

You may want to leave... and you can... but she's with you the entire time.

She isn't the most affectionate person.

She shows she cares via her protection and soft praises.

It isn't a lot... but to her it means so much more than words can describe.

Maki would do anything to make sure she doesn't lose someone she cares about again...

Even if it means she doesn't live to see it.

[thesparkling-diamond27]

The Second Bridgerton and I: Part 3

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Y/n Clearwater becomes named the “Sparkling Diamond” by Queen Charlotte herself, but she doesn’t know what to do with all this attention. Of course she has her family, but sometimes that doesn’t seem enough. But what happens when she encounters a specific Bridgerton, which changes the course of her season.

Author’s Note: This chapter includes scenes from season 3 episode 2 & 3 of Bridgerton indirectly. Down below is the link to the part 2 and part 4. I hope you enjoy! Y/nn= reader’s nick name

I walked into the drawing room to see my brothers and sister sitting at a table while my mama was sitting on the love seat while sipping tea. My father was nowhere in sight, so I assumed he was in his office taking care of business. I walked in without greeting and began searching for my small purse.

“Are you not going to say good morning to us sister?” Noah asked

“Are you not happy to see us?” Alex jested.

I paused from my searching and turned to my siblings.

“Good morning.”

“Well someone seems happy to see us.”Alexander said sarcastically and continued to read his morning newspaper.

I continued my search.

“What is it that you are searching for Y/n and why are you in such a haste?” My mama asked.

“My small purse.” I replied.

“Oh are you planning on shopping? I was planning on going to the modiste this morning with Adeline.”

“No!”

My mom looked startled at my tone towards her and so did my siblings.

“I’m sorry. I do not know what came over me. I meant no, because I am a planning on shopping with Penelope. I want to cheer her up after the news.”

Lady Whistedown’s latest issue was released this morning and it was anything, but good for Penelope right now. Now the whole ton knew about the agreement between Penelope and Colin and I know this will definitely cause a setback in her search to find a match. I haven’t spoken with her since last night’s ball and I want to make sure that she is well.

When I mentioned Penelope my mama showed a look of understanding. We all read the paper this morning and the dreadful things that was said about Penelope.

“If you wish to see Penelope then you may do so.” My mama said, “Maybe she can join us.”

“I think she would like that.” I said.

“I will look for your small purse while you go over to the Featherington household.”

“Thank you mama.”

I quickly rushed out of the drawing room and out of the house to walk to the Featherington household. When I stepped outside I noticed what a beautiful day it was. I couldn’t help but admire the flowers that were starting to bloom and appreciate the breeze that would blow occasionally. I enjoy the spring and summer seasons more than the autumn and winter seasons and I am glad the weather will become warmer.

I made it to the door of the Featherington household and knocked. Lucy answered the door. She was a maid who I encountered whenever I visited Penelope.

“Y/n it is a pleasure to see you. Are you here for Penelope?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll go get her.”

I smiled and she let me in. It was quiet, but it was usually quiet in the Featherington household. I hope I wouldn’t encounter Lady Featherington or her daughters. I only have been visiting Penelope this season and I have interacted with the other Featheringtons and they are very vexing people. Especially towards Penelope. I hope they are out shopping somewhere and not here.

I heard footsteps approaching and I saw Lucy walk down the stairs, but with no Penelope in sight.

“I’m sorry Y/n. Penelope does not wish to meet with anyone at the moment. However, she wanted me to tell you that she would like to spend time with you another day.”

“Yes tell her I would love that. Good day.”

“Thank you. Good day to you as well.”

I smiled and made my way back to my house. It was unfortunate that my efforts were in vain, but I hope I get to speak with Penelope soon.

—————————

“Can I stop by the library?!” I exclaimed, “I’m in need of a new good read.”

“Go ahead dearest.” Said mama. “Adeline and I will be in the shop across the street.”

I thanked my mama and walked into Thomas’s book store. Thomas was a nice old man who owned a book store at the end of the street. Many people visited the huge bookstore in the main plaza, but I liked coming here instead because Thomas would always set books aside for me that he thought I might like.

The bell rang as I entered and Thomas was seated by the front desk.

“Well look who it is my favorite customer.”

“I’m glad to be back. Do you have any good books?”

Thomas pulled a book from the shelf behind him and placed it on the counter.

“The newest romance novel by your favorite author.”

“Only one book? Really Thomas!” I joked.

“It’s the only new book I have that I thought you might like. Unless you want a book of fact.”

I showed a face of disgust and Thomas laughed.

“Yeah I didn’t think so.” He said,”You can search the store for more books yourself if you would like.”

“I think I will. Can you hold that book for me?”

“Of course!”

“Thank you.”

I began my search to find a book I might find interesting. Thomas picked a book of romance for me, so maybe I should read something different. Something I usually would not read, but also not boring. Usually I turn right to the romance section, but this time I decided to turn left.

I entered an aisle and began reading the spines of the books to see if any of the titles peaked my interest. I saw a book that was named women in society and it seemed interesting enough. It is a book of fact, but it would be good for me as well since I do not pay much attention to society anyway. I tried to reach for the book, but I was simply too short. I looked around for a ladder, but there was not one in sight. I reached as far as I could for the book, but it was still out of reach. I huffed in annoyance and looked around for someone to be of help, but there was no one around either. I stood on my tippy toes and attempted to grab the book again. My finger tips touched the bottom of the spine when a hand came into my field of vision. Someone stood behind me and grabbed the book I wanted from the shelf.

I turned around and the owner of the mystery hand was revealed to be Benedict. He held the book out in front of me.

“I believe you wanted this book.” Benedict said.

“Yes thank you.”

I grabbed the book and our hands touched. My hand stayed there for a second too long before I pulled away, but I wish I hadn’t.

“What are you doing here?” I asked

“Looking for a book to read. We are in a bookstore after all.”

“…Right…sorry. I am looking for a book as well.”

I motioned towards the book in my hand and he read the title.

“Women in society. A great pick. My sister Eloise raved about it so much last season that I had to read it for myself. It was quite fascinating I must say.”

“I usually read books of romance and I figured I should read a book like this for a change.”

“Romance you say?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve always found romance in literature quite daft.”

“Daft?! Have you ever read a romance novel.”

“No I can’t say I have.”

“Then you have no right to say that romance in literature is daft!”

Benedict looked amused.

“What genre do you like?” I asked

“I enjoy poetry.”

“Poetry?”

“Yes what is wrong with poetry.”

“Nothing it is just that….you do not seem like the type of person to enjoy poetry.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me Y/n.”

Y/n. When he escorted me back to my family at last night’s ball he asked me to call him Benedict and he began to call me Y/n. He decided that it is only fitting since we are friends. I agreed to it, but only when we were alone, since I did not want people in the ton getting a wrong impression of our companionship. I guess it is okay now since we are the only ones in the bookstore at the moment.

“Well Benedict, I would love to learn more about you as time goes on.”

“I would love to learn more about you as well. Have you ever read poetry?”

“No I can’t say I have.”

“How about this. Why don’t you pick out a romance novel for myself while I pick a book of poetry for you to read. It can be a way for us to get to know each other better.”

“I would like that. Would you like to share our thoughts with one another as we go on?”

“Yes! I would like to know what you think about poetry and it would give me an excuse to see you again.” He said with a wink.

I blushed. Benedict wanted to see me again because he enjoyed my company like how I enjoy his. Our friendship has become an unexpected surprise this season and I am forever grateful.

“Now on to the poetry section.” Benedict said.

Benedict led me to the poetry section and picked out a book from the second shelf.

“This book is not like the sappy stuff that you read in your romance novels.”

“They are not always sappy!” I argue.

I take the book from him and playfully hit his head.

“Hey what was that for?!”

But he didn’t seem mad at my action. He was smiling.

“Knocking some sense into that head of yours! Now it’s my turn to pick.”

“Lead the way.”

I began to walk to the romance section and Benedict followed me. I scanned the shelves until I came across one of my favorites and it will definitely be quite a shocker for Benedict. I plucked the book from the shelf and handed it to him.

“Here you go.” I said.

“The Ancient Legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. I’ve never heard of it.”

“It is an Ancient Greek myth. My grandpa is from Greece, so he grew up with tales from Greek Mythology. He read those kind of stories to his children, my mama, aunt and uncle, and my mama read those tales to my siblings and I growing up.”

“You are Greek?”

“Yes. There are a lot of things you do not know about me Benedict.”

I repeated the same words he said to me earlier and he seemed to notice because he smiled knowingly.

“The story is a love story, but it is a tragedy and it involves real life scenarios. You will see.” I said.

“Tragedy you say. Like Romeo and Juliet?”

“Both stories may be tragedies, but Romeo and Juliet can never compare to The Ancient Legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. It is different in so many different ways.”

“Wow! You have such high praise for this book. I can’t wait to read it and I hope this will be a good read.”

“Of course it will be a good read! I would not have recommended it to you unless it was.”

“I know I’m just teasing.”

I whacked him with the book again.

“You and your teasing!” I giggled.

“Why do you keep hitting me?!” He said with laughter.

“Because it’s funny.”

“Well I’m glad you hit me repeatedly for your own amusement.” He said sarcastically.

“Oh don’t be such a baby! Let’s go purchase these books. I don’t want my mama waiting for long.”

We were walking through the aisles, on our way back to Thomas, when Benedict asked,

“Did you find out how Miss Featherington is doing?”

I told Benedict about the situation with Penelope at last night’s ball and how I wanted to reach out to her to make sure she was alright. I was surprised he remembered.

“No. I went to her house this morning, but she didn’t want any visitors.”

He nodded in understanding

“I would just give it some time.” Benedict said.

“Ah look who it is! My two favorite customers!” Thomas said as we reached the counter.

“I thought I was your only favorite customer.” I said

“I can have more than one.”

I laughed in response. I was reaching in my purse for my money to pay for my books when Benedict’s hand stopped mine.

“I’ll pay for your books.” He said

“Oh no you do not have to.”

“No I insist.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure. Let me do something nice for my friend.”

I figured there was no point in arguing so I let him pay. He finished paying for both our books and we started to gather our things.

“Please come again. Both of you. I like talking with you two.” Thomas said.

“Do not worry I will be back.” I said with a smile.

“As will I.” Said Benedict.

Thomas looked a both of us with a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. Something was bothering him, but I could not figure out what exactly. I was about to ask, but he had already walked away.

“Did he seem off to you?” I asked Benedict.

“He did, but he might be tired. He is old after all.” Benedict said with a shrug.

“Probably.”

Benedict and I both exited the bookstore and out to the sidewalk.

“Thank you for buying my books.” I said

“It was my pleasure.”

“It was nice seeing you again. I am going to head back to my mama and sister.”

“Wait before you go. Are you going to the event Lord Trumble is having next week?”

“I believe so. I recall my mama mentioning it.”

“Good I’ll see you there!” He said with a smile.

I smiled back. “Good day Benedict.”

“Good day Y/n.”

—————————

“Do not go far!” Aunt Athena shouted.

My two cousins, Nolan and Nikolai ran away to go play near the pond.

“Noah and Alexander.” My mama said, “Can you two go after them to make sure they do not get into trouble.”

“Sure mama.” Noah said and Noah and Alexander went after Nolan and Nikolai.

My family was currently at the local park. My mama, Adeline, Aunt Athena, my cousins, Natalia and Niya, and I are all sitting at two tables under a white tent. My oldest cousin Norah was promenading with her husband that she married last season. My father, Maxwell and his father are off having a serious conversation.

“Lord Findlay seems like a nice young man dearest. Both of you seemed to get along when he was over.” My mama said. “Do you wish to pursue him?”

“No mama. He is a fine gentleman, but I do not see him that way, because he suits a friend more to me.”

“What about Lord Harvey?” Aunt Athena interjected. “He is a noble gentleman and I have heard nothing, but good things about the young boy.”

“I do not feel a connection with Lord Harvey.”

I poured myself a cup of tea to give me something to do. I know my family had good intentions, but it felt like I was being interrogated by them.

“Well then if you are not interested in Lord Findlay or Lord Harvey then who are you interested in?” My cousin Natalia asked.

I looked over to where Maxwell was standing and continued to sip my tea. My mother must have caught on because she smiled and said,

“I think Y/n has an idea on who she is interested in.” My mom grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

My Aunt Athena and my two cousins all had knowing smiles when they realized who my mom was talking about.

“If Maxwell is the one then you must make haste my dear Y/n.” Aunt Athena said. “He is a wanted Lord from both the mama’s and their daughters of the ton. You better hurry before someone steals him before you. Ah Lord Maxwell.”

I whipped my head around and Maxwell was standing in front of us. I hope he did not hear our conversation. That would be so embarrassing!

“I was wondering if I can borrow Y/n for a moment.”

“You most certainly can.” My mama said.

I rose from my seat to Maxwell and he linked our arms together.

Maxwell had to leave for a business trip with his father tomorrow, so this will be the last time I will see him in a while. I heard my Aunt’s words in my head: “If Maxwell is the one then you must make haste my dear Y/n.”. Did I really have to make haste with Maxwell? Would he be interested in someone else?

“What is going on in that head of yours?” Maxwell asked.

“Nothing. I simply want this moment to last.”

“It will when I return. Listen I know I’m going to be away for a while, but I cannot help but think that you will wait for me as long as I am gone. I will return before the season is over I assure you. I want you to know that you are an extraordinary woman and I have loved every second of getting to know you……I know you and your parents have been waiting for me to ask this question, but I wanted to make sure before asking such a question and I am. I was wondering if you would allow me to court you?”

This is exactly what my family and I wanted for me. A nice gentleman who has become interested in me enough to want to court me. This was perfect, but why did I not feel satisfied. I was overjoyed and excited, but for some reason I did not feel whole. I think it is just nerves, so I decide to brush it off.

“I would love for you to court me.” I said.

We both smiled at one another and Maxwell brought my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“Can we keep this a secret between us?” I asked. “I want to keep this a secret from the ton until you return. We can tell our families of course.”

“I can agree to those terms. It can be our secret.”

“Our secret” I said with a smile.

A part of me agreed that I wanted to keep our courtship a secret in order to be romantic. However, another part of me knew the truth, but I did not want to admit it. At least not now.

I looked around the park to distract myself. I took in the scenery when I noticed a familiar head of reddish auburn hair. She seemed to notice me as well because she stopped walking.

“I will be right back.” I told Maxwell.

“Alright. I have to continue my discussion with our fathers anyway.”

I nodded in understanding and he walked away. I walked back to my mama and asked,

“Can I promenade with her for a moment?”

I motioned to the girl waiting for me.

“Yes you can Y/n, but do not walk too far.”

I thanked my mama and walked my way over to Penelope. This would be the first time I will talk to her since she ran away from the ball a few days ago. The past few days I couldn’t help but worry about her. However, she did seem somewhat okay when I got a closer look at her. I couldn’t help, but notice the whispers and stares directed towards Penelope as I walked. This is what always makes me afraid of making a mistake. One misstep and the ton would see you as an outsider.

“Hello Pen.”

“Hello Y/nn.”

“How have you been?”

“Managing. This is the first time I have left my house since what happened. I am glad I ran into you.”

I went to hug her and she did the same at the same time. I missed Penelope and our friendship. I haven’t seen her in a few days.

“I am glad you are okay.” I said.

“What has been going on with you?” Penelope asked.

She linked her arm with mine and we began walking.

“I haven’t told anyone this yet and this had just happened, but Maxwell asked to court me.”

“Oh Y/nn that’s wonderful news! You don’t seem excited. Are you not excited?”

“No I am excited! It’s just that….I don’t know. I thought I would feel complete or whole. Think that this path is the right decision. But for some reason I have a feeling in my stomach that is telling me that this is wrong.”

“Maybe it is just nerves.”

“That is what I have been thinking, but I do not know.”

“It is probably just nerves, but if it is not your parents want you to marry for love. If you do not feel this way with Maxwell then they cannot make you marry him.”

“My dad did say that I did not have to marry him.”

“Exactly! So I would not worry about it too much. Some of us are not as lucky.”

I knew when Penelope was saying this she was referencing to her mother. I felt bad for everything she had to go through.

“I have something to tell you.” Penelope said.

“What is it?”

“Colin kissed me.”

I looked at Penelope in shock. Colin kissed her? Did that mean that he finally reciprocated feelings for her.

“What does this mean for the two of you?”

“Nothing. I asked him to kiss me because I wanted to be kissed at least once. I do not think I will ever find a husband and I wanted to know what it was like to be kissed. Colin was the only man I trust to do something like that and the only man who would be okay to do such a thing.”

“Do not say such things Pen. I am sure some gentleman out there will see you for the beauty that you are. Inside and out.”

“Thank you for those kind words Y/nn, but I have to be realistic. I just finished talking with Colin and we both agreed that our deal will no longer continue. Our plan backfired and it did more harm than good.”

I wanted to argue more and prove her wrong, but I didn’t want to upset Penelope, so I kept quiet.

“Was he a good kisser?” I asked.

“Y/nn!”

“What I have never been kissed and I want to know what it is like. Plus I am pretty sure you have been imagining that kiss since you were a child.”

“Well you are not wrong….Yes he was an amazing kisser. It was everything that I could have possibly imagined and better. However, I know he does not feel the same way as I, but at the same time I feel like I needed that kiss. It was a way for me to have closure and now I do.”

I nodded in understanding. I can understood Penelope’s point of view with the situation. She has been pining over Colin for years and I thought maybe he might feel the same way after the kiss. But I guess he still sees her the same way and only kissed her as a friend.

Penelope telling me about her kiss with Colin made me wonder what it will be like to be kissed. I assume I might receive my first kiss with Maxwell soon due to marriage being seen in the future. I wonder what it would be like to kiss Maxwell.

“You know Y/nn. I trust you and our friendship.”

“I would hope so.” I joked.

We both laughed.

“There is something that I have been wanting to tell you for a while and I believe that I can tell you soon. I won’t tell you now , but when it is just the two of us and when I am ready I’ll tell you.”

“Okay.”

What she said brought me back to what Eloise told me at the ball a few nights ago.

“Not everyone is the way they appear to be. Some carry secrets. I discovered that Penelope was one of them.”

Was it true that Penelope was keeping secrets? And if she was, was she going to tell me?

[dreamwreaver]

I fully agree with you on your takes about Vaggie and Charlastor in general.

I wouldn't mind Chaggie being canon if the show did a better job at having the relationship say something about them instead of just meshing them together like a kid making their dolls kiss.

In fact, I would even go as far to say Alastor did MORE for Charlie than Vaggie ever did! Because he did so out of his own volition, and taking her somewhere where her passion would help them!

Where as everything Vaggie does is tied to making Charlie happy to some extent, not even her going to Carmilla to find a way to fight against the angels is of her own volition! Everything she does is all for and centered around Charlie.

Which kind of beckons the question of would she even still do these things or even stick around if Charlie wasn't her girlfriend. It all feels like the most change she went through was just changing leaders to follow, instead of following a leader that's cruel, she follows a leader that's nicer.

I REALLY hope as the show goes on Vaggie will get the much needed development she needed.

I think that's the biggest problem I have with canon chaggie as it stands. Like, this could be the lumity of adult animation, but it's just... meh? Like cool, they're kind of there. I know in another as I mentioned Kim and Ron as an example of what main characters in a relationship should be, but Lumity is honestly the more accurate example, especially considering how dirty Disney did the third season.

Luz is the cheerful, optimistic bisexual who is ultimately the chosen of a powerful entity just like Charlie (difference being one is descended from one the other is chosen to be imbued with its power) when they face down their nemesis it's with a strength that comes from having their kindness used, abused, and dismissed by said enemy. And ironically, their main antagonist is someone who is so assured of their own self-righteousness and goodness that it doesn't matter what they do or who they harm in the process.

Amity by contrast is the strictly raised over achiever who ultimately has a heart of gold beneath her stern and stand offish appearance. People associate that song "Little Miss Perfect" with her for a reason, though I do feel it applies to Vaggie as well. The difference between amity and vaggie though is that amity's interactions with luz encourage her to rebel against that image. Aside from Charlie offering her a bandage for her eye and indicating immediate interest... what does she bring out in Vaggie? Protective instincts? I mean... cool but we saw that a cannibal kid cowering in fear was enough for her to challenge her own beliefs so it's not like being with Charlie really changed her view of sinners. Hell, like Lucifer she still seems to approach them with condescension and derision, not the best approach for someone managing a rehab hotel right?

And let me be clear, whatever it takes is a great song. But it kind of shows the unhealthier aspects of Vaggie's side in their relationships. "I'll be your armor, I'll spend my life being your partner" you cannot be someone's armor and their partner because true partnership is equal, not one consistently protecting the other. And not to shit all over Vaggie I think her backstory has the capacity to be very moving. But Charlie... isn't the best partner to her.

Can I be real? I love my girl, I am not bashing for the sake of bashing. But Charlie has a tendency to get so wrapped up in her own stuff that vaggie's wants/needs often get... ignored? Not prioritized at the nicest. Vaggie seems hesitant about trust exercises? Well let's put her in charge of the whole thing! Vaggie doesn't want to go to heaven? Charlie makes her come anyways (which, side note if sinners can visit heaven Alastor as a shrewd businessman would have made a better choice just logically or at the very least give a reason why he can't go he's just not in that episode at all for some reason). And she kind of uses the "I'm your partner and I need your support" thing a lot on vaggie. Which, even if it's true Charlie, sweetie, please notice when your girlfriend needs you too.

Vaggie does have points at times about Charlie's ideas being too grandiose or impractical but the average way that goes is;

Vaggie: Charlie no,

Charlie: Charlie yes!

And then chaos happens and it somehow all works out and there's no apology from anyone. I'm also still kind of mad that Charlie didn't LET vaggie apologize for keeping that secret. Like, no, Charlie had as much right to be mad about that as vaggie did for keeping that secret and y'all really need to evaluate your relationship and boundaries and communication skills before you decide to continue it.

One other thing that bothers me is that... literally if you removed the introduction scene to Lucifer and the kiss in the last episode literally no one would be able to tell for sure they're a couple. And tbh? That's just bad writing. Especially considering how much they sideline vaggie from all love interest duties. Charlie's in danger? Lucifer to the rescue! And like... seriously, what was the point of giving vaggie her wings back if she couldn't use them to rescue her girlfriend? Why did she get those back? She doesn't fly at any other point after that, and sure maybe it's a case of she's gone for so long without them it's like learning to fly all over again, but at that point maybe give her wings that are incapable of sustaining her weight in flight? Something to indicate she's got them back but they're impractical for combat use so she has to rely on riding the goat dragons and Charlie falling from a high place would require someone with full sized wings to tackle the problem.

Look, I went into this show knowing that chaggie was canon and that Viv had been planning on doing much of what she called "fan service" for them. But for the love of god at least make it so that people cannot argue they're a couple. A complication of "Chaggie moments" on Amazon's YouTube is them just... talking. Bro, come on.

Vaggie deserves better. Charlie deserves better. Canon chaggie deserves better and the shippers who are not entitled assholes certainly deserve better than having to do all the fucking legwork for a canon ship. At least charlastor being non canon means I have every right to over react about the nuggets of content they give us. One day I will go over some of the insane ramblings I have for why they did so much for the non canon ship but not today lol

[aihoshiino]

I just want to start by saying I really love your analysis of Ai’s character! It’s nice to know that Ai still has some dedicated fans, even after she died in the story. Ai was fascinating to me throughout the time we got to know her. So it makes me happy that people still talk about her quite often.

I'll get straight to the point now. Lately, I've been unsatisfied with the writing of Oshi no Ko. I'm not a fan of how they've handled Ruby, the revenge plot, and Kana's concert. So, I decided to create my own alternate universe (AU) story featuring two of my favorite characters from the manga, Ai and Kana. The setting in the AU is somewhere around the time after Ai got scouted. The only change I've made to Kana is that she is the same age as Ai in this timeline. I'm not exactly sure how I want to develop their friendship or how they would meet, but I'd love to hear your honest thoughts. How do you think a friendship between Ai and Kana would unfold? I would like to say it wouldn't be an entire copy of RubyKana's dynamic, but I'm not entirely sure 😭. My goal is to portray Ai's feelings and the increasing pressure she faces, as well as Kana's struggles to find work and her gradual realization of her mother's exploitation. I also want to show how they balance their friendship despite being in different fields and supporting each other.

Thanks so much, anon! 💜 THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA… Usually when I see fics of Ai and Kana interacting, it's with their canon age gap but the idea of them being peers is super interesting… please do drop it into my inbox if/when you write it!

The idea I had immediately was like - since we're already messing around with the timeline by making Kana and Ai peers, you could push up the live-action adaptation of Sweet Today and have them cross paths that way. Ai mentions in the Da Vinci Q&A that she would've loved to play the lead character if it was ever adapted - which as we all know is the role Kana plays in the story proper. There's already a surprising amount of parallels set up between Ai and Kana in the main story, but that one in particular really made me go ! so I think you could mine some interesting thematic stuff out of it.

That would also probably be a good way to put them in each others' proximity as well, I think! Like idk, maybe Kana was supposed to get the lead role but got bumped down to a supporting cast member when the production committee decided they wanted Ai's name recognition instead and now Kana has to balance being professional with seething over losing this role she really wanted to a girl who's not even an actress but also wanting to help her give a good performance j-just to make sure the show is good! Not for any other reason! … That kind of thing.

I definitely think they'd have an uphill struggle… they're both dishonest in ways that really clash, huh. I can really easily see the way Kana defaults to externalizing her vulnerability as snark and aggression accidentally setting off Ai's tendency to go belly up fawning mode, which in turn rubs on all Kana's insecurities and her feelings of not being good enough, which causes her to be even more reactive… I think they'd definitely end up having a big blow-up a la Nino and Ai before they could start properly communicating.

Once they're on the same page, though, I think they'd be really good friends! Ai is an incredibly affectionate and supportive presence for the people she loves and Kana is extremely proactively protective of the people she allows into her heart. I think they could really hype each other up and support each other in some really good ways.

Basically what I'm saying is;

[kana voice] HEY!!! SHE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES!!!!! [said while trying to restrain Ai from forcefeeding herself a burger she does not want in order to not mildly inconvenience another human being]

[missmarveledsblog]

I'll show you different ( Joel Miller x reader ) part two

Summary : news of peaches arrival spreads through town , she gets a visit from the sheriff after her lawyer contacts him . little bye little peach is opening up to the new found friends of hers .

Warnings : mentions and allusions to past domestic abuse , learning to be free of the past , slow burn , no outbreak au

Wildfires didn’t spread as quickly as the news of Y/N arrival back to town, all they heard was about the run away and her family history all different versions of events where hushed like whispers  some stated she ran  because her mother made her , some  decided she was as bad as her father other just saw a scared kid but either way they all had an opinion on the matter . she notice when she would go into town whether it was for groceries ,  take out or even simple errand all eyes on her , mouths moving to their own agenda on the matter.  No one cared to hear the truth  and the truth wouldn’t of mattered not when their minds were already made it . she was starting to think it was bad idea , she felt suffocated under their view.

The miller brothers heard it all , they heard the whispers or out right warnings to stay away when it came to the life of y/n it was nothing but trouble or she brought trouble where ever she went. 

“ she ain’t trouble , she good girl who got caught in a shit storm that life threw her” maria said . the woman was good friends with Y/N’s mother grace , she seen it all from the teen girl with stars in her eyes to the broken one with no light in them at all . 

“ we know that , she nice i mean she shy as hell but she nice girl” tommy nodded along to his brothers words . she  didn’t interact much he chalked it down to wary of strangers and giving the horrendous past she suffered by her father he didn’t blame her one bit . 

“ smart girl two she used to drop by sunday morning to get the empty bottle and cans to recycle i realized she got money fer em but i didn’t mind saved me money on dumpster fees ” the bartender jimmy chuckled placing their drinks down . 

“ she was trying to save money so her and her mama could get new house poor thing” maria sighed sadly the whole thing still haunted her decade later it kept her up sometimes thinking what if she done something different. 

“ her dad still alive?” tommy asked. 

“ sadly yes although death would be too good fer um i hope he’s suffering til his last breathe for what he did” she shuddered . 

It wasn’t all bad being home she had few good people in her corner one being the sherif  , a pie in hand  from his wife . 

“ you look kid” he smiled softly maybe the guilt was eating at him for not helping sooner she presumed  why he was stood at her front door.  Wasn’t his fault he tried but he was only a deputy at the time one that no one gave time of day either. 

“ thanks for this it looks yummy i’ll share it with my pop when he comes by later” she said moving to the side letting him enter . “ it’s a mess just fixing it up” she explain as he  seen the boxes all about . 

“ no need to apologize at all , reason i’m here is because a lawyer got in contact with me yesterday about a restraining order transferring it to this state , are you in trouble?” he asked, arching his brow. Her tensing told him all he needed to know. 

“ figure Nathan would make sure things were legit , it’s just incase my ex husband shows up which he won't , he don’t know i’m here i wont cause no problem sherif” she began rambling her hands shaking to point she nearly dropped the pie . 

“ aint what i ask sweet girl , you in trouble?” he asked softer. 

“ you know that saying girls marry their father well  i proved that one right  i got divorced thinking that it would end but didn’t he followed me everywhere i went til my friends decided i needed to coming get away somewhere he would never find me , i never told him where i was from at first was cause i didn’t want him to pity me or see me as weak but i guess he already spotted that one like he sniffed it out, one night he was locked up  , they packed my stuff up gave me a car and told me to go as far away as possible  , nathan and his wife mia  , nathan got me the divorce , the restraining orders and everything” she sat tear falling down her cheeks , her heart hurting in her chest. 

“  He passed on some reports and pictures too , you need me  kid  , don’t matter if it's day or night you call me here’s my personal cell and home phone you can’t get me in station well you ring me here” he  patted her back . “ failed you before it ain’t happening again , i ain’t told anyone about this either  except my wife she never been one fer gossip” he smiled wiping her tear away. 

“ Thanks sherif” she sniffled. 

“ What can i do you for ron” john cleared his throat seeing the patrol car parked out front. 

“ it’s ok pop he’s just checking if i’m ok nathan contacted him” she stood. 

“ he’s not here is he”  her grandfathers eyes widened. 

“ nah but if he ever does be a sorry son of a bitch that’s for sure” sheriff shook his head. 

“ I made chili, would you like to stay for some” she called walking into the kitchen . 

“ you know what i think i will smell great ” he chuckled .

“ best chili in texas” her grandfather relaxed patting the  man on the back as they walked in only to see joel and tommy miller standing at her door worried. “ y’all want some chili” he asked . 

“ do they know?” he whispered.

“ know what?” joel asked as she  walked out . 

“ i’m on the run and sheriff here to collect his bounty” she joked . 

“ about her daddy , i’m sure towns folk told em” john lied . 

“ come on food will be cold by time your finish gossiping like sewing circle” she rolled her eyes  although she hating people lying for her some time it was easier  , less in the mess of her life  was the best.

“ yes ma’am “ the called in unison . 

What she didn’t know the one invitation seem to open to more , soon the millers or sherif aswell his wife would drop by more  and more.  The brother would help with her renovations when they could and she in turn would pay them in food although she was so close off she was opening up little bits . she stopped flinching at loud noises , stop giving them clearly fake reason to not help it was little victory both men and her grandfather were happy to see . 

Today they were painting the living room  her grandfather , miss benson and sheriff and his wife sat in the kitchen apparently they nagged too much so like kids were shift out of site til john here it  , the sound that had him almost knocking his chair to the floor  in the rush to the source. 

There she was running away from joel who chased her and tommy with a paint brush laughter coming from her mouth a sound he hasn’t heard in such along time it brought tears to his eyes as the other smiled fondly on . 

“ pop you ok” she stood worry lacing her feature. 

“ i’m fine peach , just good to see you happy” he smiled wiping his cheeks . 

“ well i hope they don’t act like this on the site” she laughed again as tommy stuck his tongue out at her. 

“ nah they’re worse” he chuckled heading her way not caring for her protests of paint all over her  hell he swim in a pool of paint for that smile he thought was lost forever . 

“ he’s gone so soft in his old age” miss benson teased . 

“I ain’t old” he shot back . 

“ young at heart” peach laughed louder. 

Part three

[viridianevergarden]

What can be a possible explanation for Azriel’s shadows dancing and singing with Gwyn? Could it be that she’s a lightsinger? What could be the implications of that? Is my boy in danger?

Hi anon! Lots of good questions that are frequently asked but I’ll throw in my two cents here:

The big question, is Gwyn a Lightsinger?

It is entirely possible. Very possible, imo. I’m almost confident.

Throughout ACOSF, SJM made it a point to note that Lightsingers are a thing in Prythian. They exist and like Shadowsingers, they are rare and may be coveted by most. However, unlike Shadowsingers, these individuals do have the abilities to lure unassuming victims.

They are described as ethereal beings that possess pretty faces, friendly faces, and yet when their unassuming victim has been entrapped, they show their true colors before execution.

Now, one thing to note, Lightsingers were only mentioned alongside Kelpies. In the bog. So whether they typically exist elsewhere is a different question. But again, entirely possible.

But moving on. This could just be a harmless ploy by SJM to deepen the lore of ACOTAR but… In this very same book, all of these strange things happen:

Nesta noting that Gwyn glows when she sings.

Nesta also describing Gwyn’s voice as being different, or sticking out from the other singers.

Nesta making it sound as if she was being lured in by the sound and entranced.

The obvious mentions of Lightsingers some time after that. (To possibly slap a label on what she is?)

Then in the BC, yet a second POV noting strange things regarding her, Azriel “could’ve sworn” that his own shadows sang in answer to Gwyn’s song as he was going down the stairwell. Almost like they were being lured back to the source of the song.

So all in all, this is the first book of the series that confirms the existence of Lightsingers. All the while, not one but two people make note on these strange things. Each and every one of them pertained only to Gwyn. No one else.

I don’t think this is a coincidence nor do I think Gwyn just glows when she sings and has this weird ability to lure someone in for nothing.

It’s like SJM is waving her hands and saying “hey! Pay attention to this!”

Which makes me think that she wanted to showcase Az and Gwyn interacting at the end of that BC as a means to further indicate that something IS off with her. And to show how Azriel’s shadows react to those types of things in his head, which they did indeed react.

Is Gwyn evil? Is Az in danger?

I think that while this BC is nothing but a teaser of what’s to come, it cannot be ignored that the end is a red herring.

Now I do NOT think Gwyn is evil. Not intentionally. I don’t even think that she is aware of her possible abilities.

The most that I can think of in terms of her playing a part in some scheme is Gwyn being an innocent puppet while her strings are pulled from somewhere else by someone else. (Koschei?)

I mean, Koschei himself said he’d been preparing for Az. What ever that means, it does not bode well and it is solid foreshadowing.

Azriel is a target for Koschei for some unknown reason.

And Gwyn would be the best unassuming character to utilize as a weapon against him because she is close enough to him to harm him. (Meaning she’s in Velaris and sees him from time to time)

So Azriel could definitely be in danger.

So to conclude, I do think Gwyn is highly likely to be a Lightsinger even if she doesn’t know it yet. Theres just too many strange things about her that two people (or rather SJM herself) have noted regarding her.

It would just be weird to make this linear string of details in one big book and then do nothing with them come the next one.

[fandoomrants]

FINAL THOUGHTS ON TUA S4/TUA IN GENERAL

First of all, I can't believe I make this account because of this show and waited excitedly for 2 years only to feel so numb right now...

Unlike some people I didn't hate season 3. Season 2 is still my favourite but 3 wasn't that bad, just a bit odd. And there were many directions where things could have went.

Mostly spoiler-free, for season 4 I can say:

-It did answer some long awaited answers but I feel like it didn't answer everything, some things were just vague mentions, and it also created more questions.

-I feel like either some actors were busy, or didn't want to return, because there were characters I expected to see but they were either not mentioned, or vaguely addressed, which was disappointing.

-The ending somewhat wasn't terrible, I have always assumed something like that might have to happen, yet I hated how by the time it did, all the characters were so ruined that I couldn't feel even a bit bad for most.

Now, I'll get into some more details about the things I liked, and the ones I didn't.

Spoilers ahead:

Things I DIDN'T LIKE:

-I already ranted a lot about this in my comments while watching but - Five and Lila! I like(d?) both characters and I thought the journey they had from constantly fighting enemies to reluctant allies to friends who relied on each other, was great. Loved their scenes in the beginning of episode 5.... And then wanted to jump out of somewhere. The thing is, I don't exactly hate the way it happened. I hate the fact that it 1) happened when Lila was already with Diego, and had THREE kids with him, that was basically cheating, and 2) the fact that in the end, it didn't bring anything to the plot. Diego and Five fought almost until the end, and it was uncalled for. It didn't bring the characters' development anything. It turned Lila into a cheater and Five.... Well, I've said before that I didn't see him as aro/ace like some other people, but I didn't see anything that this brought for him. I just think they worked better platonically altogether, because they went a long way and nothing suggested anything between them.

And this also leads to...

-Diego and Lila. For me, they were sorta relationship goals. They were constantly bickering and fighting but it was their thing. They were on the border of toxic sometimes but somehow managed to stick together. So how did this happen?! It could have went a whole another way. Diego realised he really loved her and wanted to be with her. I think that I would have accepted it if she and Five had kissed or something, and she had realised she loves Diego too, and returned to him, but no. In the end, it's unclear what she even feels for him.

-Lack of interactions between Klaus and Ben. Okay, I know this isn't the OG Ben Klaus spent years with, but in s3, Klaus was the one who constantly tried to reach out to him and convince the others to give him a chance. Now, nothing. Luther was the one who interacted with him and looked after him, and then later Viktor. I get it that Klaus had other stuff on his head but it was a weird development, and it felt even a bit OOC.

-The lack of closure to some characters relationships altogether. Ben... Just turned into a monster with Jennifer, didn't get the chance to interact with the rest again. Ray was mentioned to have "walked away", Allison never mentioned him. She spent the whole season 3 ranting like mad, now only Klaus said a word. We didn't even get to learn what happened exactly. And in this universe, was Claire his daughter or no?! Also. Luther literally mentioned Sloane once. Never heard about her again. Like, maybe he had searched for her but it wasn't mentioned at all. Dave also wasn't mentioned even once. Sissy wasn't mentioned. Now, I know all if these characters were from other timelines but they were loved by the Umbrellas, and in previous seasons, they mentioned them, and wanted to find them. Now, not one mention... Even the Sparrows were barely mentioned. Nobody mentioned Pogo. Or OG Grace (well, the robot one they called "mum". Not the real one from the 60ies). I just feel like these were left as some plot holes. I get that the last two weren't exactly needed here, but there could have been at least a mention. They were from the original timeline, the siblings had spend their whole lives with them.

-Gene and Jean. I get it. Every season has some "villain" character(s), but I just really disliked these two for some reason. Won't even elaborate.

-Not even one dance, except for Gene and Jean. All seasons had at least one iconic dance.

-The music, now, I won't complain too much about it, but all seasons had some great songs. Here we had them too, but we mostly listened to Baby Shark, which was hilarious but also a bit weird.

-No epic battle scenes. Well, Luther and Diego had something of the sort, but the end battle was pretty lame, imo.

-They got back their powers, and some of them had new powers too, but it was all unexplained. What happened with Lila, what were these laser eyes?! Also, Allison got new powers, never used the old ones again (I kinda get it, tho). Klaus.... Presumably got the floating? Which was supposed to be a thing in general? But in any case, none of this was explained! I thought at first that they got the powers some of the other children like them had but we didn't learn that. Also, Diego, Luther, Viktor, Five, Ben didn't get any new powers. Diego did something weird at one point but his whole thing was controlling flying objects and I don't count it. And Five's arriving at the station isn't exactly a new power. Ben's was a result of touching Jennifer. Nothing new for them, otherwise.

-Speaking of getting back their powers, no epic battle and all, here's another thing. In s2, in the beginning, and then the end, it was epic! They were all fighting with all they had, unlocking new ways to fight and all. I believe they were at their peak. Five also managed to get a few seconds back in time, Klaus was able to control armies of ghosts. Here, none of that. They were pretty weak. And maybe it was a side effect of just getting their powers back, but it was disappointing. Klaus didn't go back to alcohol and drugs, yet he only saw one ghost of a random guy, then a dog. They could have made the ending at least a bit more epic.

-In the end, the Umbrellas ceased to exist but.... What about the rest of the special children?! This Ben wasn't even from the Umbrella Academy. And ok, in the end, only these got their powers back in this timeline but surely, the thing with the branching timelines must apply to all 40-something. So how only 7 gave up their powers in one universe, and things got back to normal?

-All in all, the weird pacing and vibe. It wasn't as serious as season one, or chaotic as season 2 and 3. There were barely moments that made me truly laugh, and some characters were OOC. And some didn't really get to achieve anything. Viktor, with his whole plan on helping Ben, achieved nothing. Five kinda ruined his brother's family. Klaus... He also didn't achieve anything, in the end Allison saved him yet again. And while it was cute, it also was, I feel, a step back from his characterisation because he was shown as quite adaptive and able to get away from a bad situation. Allison pretty much only saved Klaus. Diego had a family drama, but nothing much. Luther.... He was just there. Ben's arc was ok but I hated how little time he had with the rest, in the end, he never got to feel as part of the team, and Lila just... Ruined her family for someone who is both around 20 years older and 20 years younger than her at the same time.

-This one is pretty much for humour purposes but - Luther without pants way too much!

-I feel like I must be forgetting something but I'll just move on to...

Things I LIKED:

-Claire having much more screen time and actually being a developed character, rather than just someone staying there for the sake of Allison!

-Claire and Allison, and especially Claire and Klaus's relationship! I feel like Klaus would be good with kids, and even change his ways because of them. (He sorta did, despite walking away at one point. I like to think that spending time with Allison and Claire helped him get clean.)

-Allison and Klaus! I mentioned in another post that I've noticed that they were closer even in season 1, where they interact much less hostile and with more fondness that with the rest of their family, in flashbacks he comforts her when they get their tattoos, etc. And then, of course, their reunion in s2. In s3, we didn't get much of them but I loved them in s4.

-Allison and Viktor taking care of each other! These two had some really rocky relationship throughout all of the seasons but they still cared for each other in a way that was different than the rest. They had the true sibling bond but I think by the end, they also learned to be friends.

-Viktor in general. The only character that didn't once irritate me with a decision he made. I feel sorta sorry for him because he seemed to care for everyone. Allison, after all she did, Ben, although this isn't the one he knew. He got to clear things with this version of Reginald, too. Generally loved him here.

-Now I'm a bit bitter-sweet about that, seeing how things developed but, Lila and Diego's daughter named Grace!

-Even more bitter-sweet, and tiny bit hippocratic but Lila and Five, before that one development in ep 5. They could have truly had a good and normal PLATONIC bond.

-Allison, somewhat. She's one of my least favourite characters, especially after season 3, tho she wasn't my fave before that either but here I liked her.

-Luther somehow didn't irritate me either, although I didn't like him much too, before.

-Klaus has always been my favourite and even though I didn't quite like all that happened, I liked his development, his desire to be sober, and his unwillingness to get his powers back. I think he had lots of potential, and obviously most of his problems came from his powers.

-Despite everything, the last scene, with all the characters we've seen before, being happy and all that. Agnes and Hazel! For some reason, loved that even in this timeline, without all else, they found each other! And the fact that the kids of the Umbrellas were still there. This is a tiny bit of a plot hole on it's own but it was a nice scene.

-And finally, somewhat learning how Five founded the Comission, and finally learning what the "Jennifer Incident" was!

[vasyandii]

Hi, Vasya! I’m sorry, if you wrote it somewhere and I just missed it, but I was wondering, what are Naks relationships with other Chimera members (ok, Krueger is obvious and I remember you writing about Syd). Is it ‘just business’ for her or are they her friends? What does she think of them? Thank you so much!

Hi Thank you so much for the Ask!! Im going to section out by each individual operator if that's okay (I'm really bad at explaining things so please bear with me ;-;)

NAK'S RELATIONSHIPS WITH CHIMERA MEMBERS (+How I think Nak would draw them)

Beforehand: These are just my personal Headcanons from how I interpret their characters and voicelines!

SYD

I briefly mentioned Syd being someone Nak views as an older sister figure in her Bio so I'd like to touch more on that-

Nak, She sees Syd as a sister because Syd's the first person she's comfortable enough to talk about her personal experiences and cares enough about her that Nak shows interest in what Syd as to say. For a long while didn't have a healthy support system before she fled Laos . Being introduced to Syd, she was reluctant and dismissive for the first week or so. However, seeing how Syd was trying to at least be on good terms with her, she thought it was safe enough to give it a chance.

Syd (from her voicelines) is outgoing, friendly, strong-willed, and determined. Nikolai probably asked her to intergrate Nak into the group. Both of them being from wealthy families of people with political/military influence is something they have in common. She understood to an extent why Nak had difficulty trusting people (Not including the whole Naga Trauma stuff) and was willing to take up the challenge.

They hang out during breaks, Nak gets to experience Normal life stuff like a Girls Night, doing her hair, going shopping.

YEGOR

Yegor, having 3 kids himself, probably has an instinct to protect and look out for those who are younger in the field (from His interactions with Rodion and his discomfort with using children during interrogation). He's lowkey concerned abt Nak because she's one of the youngest members in the faction. He knows how people in their early 20s would act from his personal experience but Nak doesn't fit the mold and it's worrying, even if he doesn't say it.

Nak has cried because he called her "kid", she didn't even realize she was crying from that. It was like an inner child healing experience. She initially didn't like him because she felt like he was "treating her as if she's a child" but grew to respect him since they have pasts in organized crime and he feels like her idea of a dad.

NIKOLAI

Nikolai is hard on Nak (alot of cleaning duties, etc.) Because she's one of the youngest people in the faction. " If you wann work here you gotta be good at your job" mindset. He knows that she's a good operator so he pushes her to do her best, with boundaries of course.

Nak thinks of Nikolai as a better version of Naga. She says he's a pain in the ass but really respects him; He got her a job, he accommodated for her issues with routine mental check ups, and his methods with missions is efficient and more her style. She's called him Dad on accident a handful of times, I don't think Nikolai bothered to correct her though.

ISKRA

Iskra doesn't have an opinion on Nak, she respects Nak's ability as an operator but thinks she's a bit strange

Nak thinks Iskra is so cool. She doesn't know how to talk to her because she thinks Iskra is really pretty and admires her relationships with the other female operators. She wants to be friends with her.

Farah

Farah doesn't have an opinion in Nak, doesn't know her that well.

Nak is a bit intimidated by Farah because of her Accomplishments, respects her as an operator

Krueger

She thinks he's stupid and dumb (they kiss)

If you made it this far thank you or reading, the post corrupted initially so that's why it's longer 😭😭