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ywnstrd · 1 day
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UM LIZZIE I VOLUNTEER I VOLUNTEER TIE ME UP
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ywnstrd · 4 days
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reblog if you want to be spammed with anonymous asks
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ywnstrd · 4 days
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HELP I CAN'T UNSEE IT
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rip larissa weems
you would’ve loved taking photos of your partner like a facebook mom
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ywnstrd · 6 days
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That I may be weak with you, the masterlist
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Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three
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🍂Dorothea Delilah Darcy's Visual🍂
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Find more about the character, her powers and her personality, here. However, keep in mind that as this is a work in progress, some things might change through the course of the story 💛 If you don't want to be spoiled for some things or prefer to learn about her as you read, then I advise against checking this out. I'm just very fond of her.
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🍂And, of course, Sir Barnabas, the main character🍂
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This lovely divider was made by star-struck-wonderland and can be found here.
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ywnstrd · 7 days
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let me wake up in their arms. let me groggily come to and realize their arms are still wrapped around my waist, face pressed into the back of my shoulder, in the same position we fell asleep in. let me melt into their embrace, sleepily snuggling back into them and pulling their arms tighter around my torso before drifting back down to sleep. all in the arms of my beloved.
men dni, this post is about lesbians
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ywnstrd · 7 days
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As a lesbian I find it so funny when women worry about me stealing their boyfriends because the whole time I’m thinking about how much better I could treat her than he does
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ywnstrd · 8 days
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guys….. what if i happened to say stepmom wanda….
link here :3
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ywnstrd · 8 days
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word count: 3k
- Liar Liar - 
Wanda Maximoff x reader
summary - in which, you stumble upon the most beautiful woman you've ever seen while in search of a job you can put your piano skills to use at. The only thing? She's a teacher who thinks you're in search of lessons. All's far in love and music right?
a/n - wanda + music = me fucking dying. lol. haven't updated in a while that's my bad. i love you guuuuyyyyyysss.
⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ
You hadn’t meant to lie.
You’d went into the slightly shady neighborhood in search of a job, preferably one that let you play piano- your passion- and still had a decent amount of pay so you would be able to afford that apartment you got recently.
It’s a small town though, and no one really has any need for music as they own record players and other forms of listening devices. No one cares about classical music anymore.
Maybe you should have listened when your father told you music would never be a good career.
So you gave up hope, walking downtown to the store to get a simple and cheap frozen dinner that you could watch while sulking in front of the tv. Being an adult is hard, and you often find yourself wondering what you would do if you had just been given one chance to go back in time and not rush growing up.
You heard the familiar and peaceful sound of piano, and just like anytime you hear it, you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk to simply listen. There’s a small store next to all the tall and beautiful ones, one that probably gets lost a lot in the sight of all the other, more important buildings. A young woman is sitting inside near the front, visible through the big glass window that you silently watch her through. Her skilled fingers dance across the keyboard, creating an aura in the world that has you stuck in a magical trance.
The song slowly goes quieter, and you watch her take a deep sigh before turning her head to look out the window- as if knowing you were there. You panic, blushing in embarrassment before you pretend to read the signs taped to the door.
A bright smile graces your face as you actually begin to read them. A few of them just talk about upcoming concerts in town square, but one big one smack dab in the middle catches your eye;
Hiring!
Tutors, managers, cleaners
$16.45 a hour
It’s not a lot of money, but it’s enough and you’d get to do what you love while seemingly getting to hang out with a pretty girl. It’s a win, win, win. For you.
“Sorry. That sign is old. My friend was supposed to take it down.” Someone quietly speaks beside you, and you almost jump in fear when you see that the woman you had previously been looking at through the window is now standing right next to you, staring blankly before she tears the sign off the door. She’s even more pretty in person, from her long auburn hair to her piercing greens eyes that most people would fear as she stares at you silently though all you feel is nervous and giddy.
“Right…well….do you still have any openings?” You ask, placing your hands in your pockets as you rock back and forth on your heels. She watches with curious eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.
She answers quietly, a stark contrast to your happy mood, though she doesn't exactly seem upset. More like calm. “Yes. Lessons are 10 dollars for an hour and a half.”
You frown in confusion. Does she think you’re looking for a teacher? You go to tell her you’re looking to be a teacher, but your eyes fall on the little picture on the door that has a photo of her next to a few others of other people. Under her’s is the title; “owner and teacher”
“Would you be my teacher?” The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them, so you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else.
The girl’s lips turn upwards in the beginning of a smile. “Yes. I would.”
You practically grin, and it’s like you don’t even remember the several years of college you went through to get a career in music as you say, “Then I’d like to take lessons from you. I like piano. I want to learn how to play.”
She does smile now, nodding as she opens the door which makes the bell above it ring. “That’s great. Follow me and we’ll get you signed up.” You do follow her inside, taking in the beauty of the hidden shop. There are pianos and other instruments everywhere, ones that look worn out yet still pretty. Open songbook’s litter every open space and she gets to the front desk before digging through a pile of them for the forms you need to sign.
After signing way to many forms and paying a small fee, you shake her hand with the one that isn’t cramping.
“Thank you for choosing Scarlett's Melodies. I’m Wanda Maximoff. I own the shop and tutor most of the students.” You smile, squeezing her hand before you awkwardly place your hand in your pocket and introduce yourself.
Wanda. A pretty name for a pretty girl.
You obviously don’t say that though. Anxiety exists yall.
Instead you leave with a new found pep in your step.
That is until you remember that you just spent a ton of money and don’t even have a job. Wow. What the fuck is Wanda Maximoff doing to you?
— – — – — – — – —
After that, you have to get a job, so you get one at the nice restaurant in town that your friend works at. You spend most of your day serving customers, taking orders, and cleaning, and the only reason you continue to do it is that every other day, you just have to think about the fact that once work is over, you get to go see the beautiful piano teacher.
It’s not hard to play down your skill, but it is a little bit funny every time you slip up and tell her you already know something and then have to make the excuse that you’re doing some studying on your own time as well.
Wanda has a sweet personality, though she is a bit cold and standoffish sometimes. You learn a lot about her over the past few weeks though, like her late brother Pietro, her friends Natasha and Clint who are also workers at the store, and how she came to love music so much as to start up her own store for it.
“You’re late.” She says when you run in six minutes past the time you’re supposed to be there, but her tone is light and teasing as she scans through some notes on her sheet music. She lets you take them home sometimes to study them, but you mostly just study her pretty handwriting and the little doodles she leaves for you to find.
You chuckle, taking off your coat and hanging it up next to her leather jacket near the door. The place is cozy and if not for the workers constantly running in and out, you’d say it feels more like a home than a store.
“Sorry. I was at work.” She nods as you speak, handing you a book she made more notes in before pointing over to a piano set up against a wall. It’s nicely toned and made of a beautiful wood, and once she learned it was probably your favorite, she “teaches” you at that one every single lesson.
You sit on the bench, trying your hardest not to blush when she rubs her hand on your back before sitting closely next to you. It’s one of your favorite parts of the lessons- when she sits close enough that you can smell her perfume. Vanilla with a hint of sage, and it’s quickly become one of your favorite scents.
“We’re gonna work on something a bit harder today alright? I think you can do it, but the notes are in a slightly weird pattern and may be hard to remember.” Wanda says, flipping to a page in the book before setting it up on the music rack. 
It’s one of your favorites and quite easy to play after years of practicing, but you don’t tell her that.
By the end of the almost two hour lesson, you have pretended to learn the first part of the song, purposefully messing it up every once in a while so you don’t expose yourself.
You’re starting to feel a bit guilty about the lying, but then she smiles proudly and showers you in compliments and you forget all about it.
Wanda walks you to the door, leaning on the wall as you put on your coat and grab your stuff. You’re tired, but that feeling doesn’t even begin to compare to the one that comes when she holds your hand and smiles towards you.
“There’s a small event in town this weekend.” She starts, pointing towards the sign up on her big bulletin board. “A few people playing pieces, some nice food. I think you should join. You’re one of my most advanced students.”
You grin, hesitantly nodding. “I’d love to. That sounds like so much fun.”
The redhead nods as well, smiling slightly as she writes your name down on the sign up sheet. You’ll play after a few other students and teachers, and you must tell her what piece you want to play by tomorrow so you can spend the next few lessons practicing it.
With that you say your goodbyes, lingering in a hug with the Maximoff girl before you finally leave, walking home with a love sick smile on your face. Little did you know, the same one is gracing Wanda’s face as she closes up the shop and makes her way home.
— – — – — – — – —
When the day of the concert comes around, you’re nervous.
You don’t know why. You could play this piece in your sleep, but for some reason, the same nerves that were with you during your first performance as a child are now fluttering around in your stomach as you sit on a piano bench in the town square.
Wanda is talking with some of the other students, and you try and distract yourself by looking at her with adoration in your eyes, but it all comes back at a higher level when she notices you and winks your way.
She’s so pretty, and you fight the urge to slam your head on the instrument as she finishes up her conversation and begins walking towards you.
“Hey hon. How you feeling?” Wanda stands behind you, rubbing your shoulders reassuringly as she reads over the notes on your sheet music. You shrug, blushing brightly at her touch as you pretend to be focusing on smoothing out your shirt of non-existent wrinkles.
“I’m okay. Kinda nervous.” You say, and the blush only deepens when she hums in understanding and places a kiss on the top of your head.
“Don’t be. You’re going to be great.” Her words make you grin, and you lean your head back to rest on her stomach as she gently runs her fingers through your hair. Someone calls her name, so she gently caresses your face before patting your back and walking away.
Oh the things that Wanda Maximoff does to you.
While you’re waiting for your turn on stage, you get bored, so you sit back on the bench and begin to quickly play through one of the hardest songs you know. It took forever to learn and you still mess up every once and a while, but it still would sound beautiful to anyone and by the end of it, you do hear someone slightly chuckle in shock.
It isn't a happy laugh or happy shock though. That much you can tell.
“I didn’t teach you that.” A slightly bitter tone speaks, and you slowly turn around to come face to face with Wanda, fists clenched at her sides and a curious but slightly annoyed expression on her face.
You want to continue to lie, to tell her you’ve been working hard and her lessons are paying off, but no one who’s only been playing for a few months would be able to play that and she obviously knows the truth now.
“You wasted my time.” She says coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s no longer the bubbly girl you’ve come to have the pleasure of knowing, instead going back to the closed off woman you first met. It’s all your fault.
You look down in shame, letting the bouquet rest by your side. “I’m so sorry Wanda.”
Wanda scoffs, glaring at you before she storms out of the room. She’s pissed, but a warm feeling settles in her chest at the knowledge you went through all of this to hang out with her, even with the thought that you don’t have a chance with her. You still wasted her time though, and you lied to her for weeks, almost months. How can she trust that you truly aren’t just some psycho?
You stay in the middle of town square, tears forming in your eyes as more and more people gather to listen to the other pianists. You’re falling in love with Wanda Maximoff, and up until this point, it’s only ever been clear and sunny skies. What are you supposed to do now that your first cloud has appeared?
— – — – — – — – —
After that, you stop going to your lessons.
Wanda finds herself missing you every time 6 o’clock comes around and you don’t come sprinting into the shop with your work uniform still on, rambling about something a stupid customer did like you’ve known Wanda forever. It feels like that, that’s for sure.
You spend every day in an endless cycle. Get up, go to work, walk the long way so you don’t risk running into Wanda outside of her music store, work a nine hour shift, and return to your quiet apartment where you sit in silence and mourn for someone that still lives. 
Maybe you should adopt a dog.
One especially rough day, you wake up late, your alarm clock having turned off during a storm last night and reset itself all while you were asleep. Because of this, you wake up with five minutes to get ready and even less time to sprint to work, so you can’t take the long way like you usually do.
It’s lightly sprinkinly outside, so you don’t bother taking a jacket in the midst of chaos. That was clearly the wrong decision, as only a few minutes into your walk there, it starts absolutely pouring, and just like that, your uniform is soaked and you’re shivering. You don’t have any time to go back though, so you fight on, staying right next to the buildings for a bit of protection and you don’t even notice the person carefully watching you as you fastly walk down the sidewalk.
“Hey!” Someone calls out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a familiar building. It’s calm and quiet music is playing somewhere, but all you can focus on is that Wanda is standing in front of you, holding out a dry towel for you to grab.
You hesitate, grabbing it and holding it closely around your body in hopes of stopping the cold feeling in your bones. It’s much warmer in here and the only rain is tapping against the window from outside, but Wanda is here and she looks at you with a type of distaste you’ve never seen before.
“I need to get to work. I’m late.” You mumble eventually after a few minutes of silence, but she just puts her hands on your shoulders and rubs them to bring you more warmth as she replies calmly, “No. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
You go to argue, but she simply shakes her head and sits down at your piano on the other end of the room. She begins to play a simple but calm song, and she watches in the corner of her eye as you sink down on the couch next to the fireplace and slowly close your eyes. You’re still awake though, that much she can tell by the way your fingers tap along to the pattern of the music.
Finally she slowly stops the song, letting her hands fall to rest on her thighs as she stares at the keyboard with her eyebrows furrowed.
“Why would you lie to me?”
You open your eyes, watching with a guilty but sincere look as she chews on her lower lip and gently presses a few of the keys. “I’m truly sorry Wanda. I figured if we spent that time together, I would be able to learn more about you…in hopes of eventually asking you out. It was stupid, and wrong, and I’m sorry.”
She sighs, closing the keyboard cover and turning to face you. “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”
Your eyes widen in shock. Is she messing with you?
Wanda continues, “If you had just told me all of that when we first met, we could have gone out and gotten dinner or- or lunch or on a picnic like normal people.” You nod along, silently fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt. “So go ahead.”
You’re silent for a second, looking around as if wondering if she’s talking to you to which she giggles and nods. That laugh could fix all your issues.
“Wanda Maximoff, I’d really like to get to know you. The right way this time. Will you go out with me?” You ask nervously after clearing your throat and sitting up in your seat.
Wanda smirks, rubbing her chin as if in deep thought. “I don’t know…”
You laugh a bit when she does, though you’re too busy smiling brightly as she nods. “I’d love to go out with you. No lying to me this time though. And you have to teach me that song you were playing at the recital.”
“No way. A magician never reveals their secrets.” You tease, sitting next to her on the bench as she laces your hands together and says with her own smile, “Oh really? So I just agreed to a date for nothing? You’re mean.”
 All is fair in love and music though.
⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ
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ywnstrd · 9 days
Text
HEHEHEHEHE I KNEW YOU'D LOVE IT, YYYIIIPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH
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word count: 3k
- Liar Liar - 
Wanda Maximoff x reader
summary - in which, you stumble upon the most beautiful woman you've ever seen while in search of a job you can put your piano skills to use at. The only thing? She's a teacher who thinks you're in search of lessons. All's far in love and music right?
a/n - wanda + music = me fucking dying. lol. haven't updated in a while that's my bad. i love you guuuuyyyyyysss.
⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ
You hadn’t meant to lie.
You’d went into the slightly shady neighborhood in search of a job, preferably one that let you play piano- your passion- and still had a decent amount of pay so you would be able to afford that apartment you got recently.
It’s a small town though, and no one really has any need for music as they own record players and other forms of listening devices. No one cares about classical music anymore.
Maybe you should have listened when your father told you music would never be a good career.
So you gave up hope, walking downtown to the store to get a simple and cheap frozen dinner that you could watch while sulking in front of the tv. Being an adult is hard, and you often find yourself wondering what you would do if you had just been given one chance to go back in time and not rush growing up.
You heard the familiar and peaceful sound of piano, and just like anytime you hear it, you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk to simply listen. There’s a small store next to all the tall and beautiful ones, one that probably gets lost a lot in the sight of all the other, more important buildings. A young woman is sitting inside near the front, visible through the big glass window that you silently watch her through. Her skilled fingers dance across the keyboard, creating an aura in the world that has you stuck in a magical trance.
The song slowly goes quieter, and you watch her take a deep sigh before turning her head to look out the window- as if knowing you were there. You panic, blushing in embarrassment before you pretend to read the signs taped to the door.
A bright smile graces your face as you actually begin to read them. A few of them just talk about upcoming concerts in town square, but one big one smack dab in the middle catches your eye;
Hiring!
Tutors, managers, cleaners
$16.45 a hour
It’s not a lot of money, but it’s enough and you’d get to do what you love while seemingly getting to hang out with a pretty girl. It’s a win, win, win. For you.
“Sorry. That sign is old. My friend was supposed to take it down.” Someone quietly speaks beside you, and you almost jump in fear when you see that the woman you had previously been looking at through the window is now standing right next to you, staring blankly before she tears the sign off the door. She’s even more pretty in person, from her long auburn hair to her piercing greens eyes that most people would fear as she stares at you silently though all you feel is nervous and giddy.
“Right…well….do you still have any openings?” You ask, placing your hands in your pockets as you rock back and forth on your heels. She watches with curious eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.
She answers quietly, a stark contrast to your happy mood, though she doesn't exactly seem upset. More like calm. “Yes. Lessons are 10 dollars for an hour and a half.”
You frown in confusion. Does she think you’re looking for a teacher? You go to tell her you’re looking to be a teacher, but your eyes fall on the little picture on the door that has a photo of her next to a few others of other people. Under her’s is the title; “owner and teacher”
“Would you be my teacher?” The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them, so you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else.
The girl’s lips turn upwards in the beginning of a smile. “Yes. I would.”
You practically grin, and it’s like you don’t even remember the several years of college you went through to get a career in music as you say, “Then I’d like to take lessons from you. I like piano. I want to learn how to play.”
She does smile now, nodding as she opens the door which makes the bell above it ring. “That’s great. Follow me and we’ll get you signed up.” You do follow her inside, taking in the beauty of the hidden shop. There are pianos and other instruments everywhere, ones that look worn out yet still pretty. Open songbook’s litter every open space and she gets to the front desk before digging through a pile of them for the forms you need to sign.
After signing way to many forms and paying a small fee, you shake her hand with the one that isn’t cramping.
“Thank you for choosing Scarlett's Melodies. I’m Wanda Maximoff. I own the shop and tutor most of the students.” You smile, squeezing her hand before you awkwardly place your hand in your pocket and introduce yourself.
Wanda. A pretty name for a pretty girl.
You obviously don’t say that though. Anxiety exists yall.
Instead you leave with a new found pep in your step.
That is until you remember that you just spent a ton of money and don’t even have a job. Wow. What the fuck is Wanda Maximoff doing to you?
— – — – — – — – —
After that, you have to get a job, so you get one at the nice restaurant in town that your friend works at. You spend most of your day serving customers, taking orders, and cleaning, and the only reason you continue to do it is that every other day, you just have to think about the fact that once work is over, you get to go see the beautiful piano teacher.
It’s not hard to play down your skill, but it is a little bit funny every time you slip up and tell her you already know something and then have to make the excuse that you’re doing some studying on your own time as well.
Wanda has a sweet personality, though she is a bit cold and standoffish sometimes. You learn a lot about her over the past few weeks though, like her late brother Pietro, her friends Natasha and Clint who are also workers at the store, and how she came to love music so much as to start up her own store for it.
“You’re late.” She says when you run in six minutes past the time you’re supposed to be there, but her tone is light and teasing as she scans through some notes on her sheet music. She lets you take them home sometimes to study them, but you mostly just study her pretty handwriting and the little doodles she leaves for you to find.
You chuckle, taking off your coat and hanging it up next to her leather jacket near the door. The place is cozy and if not for the workers constantly running in and out, you’d say it feels more like a home than a store.
“Sorry. I was at work.” She nods as you speak, handing you a book she made more notes in before pointing over to a piano set up against a wall. It’s nicely toned and made of a beautiful wood, and once she learned it was probably your favorite, she “teaches” you at that one every single lesson.
You sit on the bench, trying your hardest not to blush when she rubs her hand on your back before sitting closely next to you. It’s one of your favorite parts of the lessons- when she sits close enough that you can smell her perfume. Vanilla with a hint of sage, and it’s quickly become one of your favorite scents.
“We’re gonna work on something a bit harder today alright? I think you can do it, but the notes are in a slightly weird pattern and may be hard to remember.” Wanda says, flipping to a page in the book before setting it up on the music rack. 
It’s one of your favorites and quite easy to play after years of practicing, but you don’t tell her that.
By the end of the almost two hour lesson, you have pretended to learn the first part of the song, purposefully messing it up every once in a while so you don’t expose yourself.
You’re starting to feel a bit guilty about the lying, but then she smiles proudly and showers you in compliments and you forget all about it.
Wanda walks you to the door, leaning on the wall as you put on your coat and grab your stuff. You’re tired, but that feeling doesn’t even begin to compare to the one that comes when she holds your hand and smiles towards you.
“There’s a small event in town this weekend.” She starts, pointing towards the sign up on her big bulletin board. “A few people playing pieces, some nice food. I think you should join. You’re one of my most advanced students.”
You grin, hesitantly nodding. “I’d love to. That sounds like so much fun.”
The redhead nods as well, smiling slightly as she writes your name down on the sign up sheet. You’ll play after a few other students and teachers, and you must tell her what piece you want to play by tomorrow so you can spend the next few lessons practicing it.
With that you say your goodbyes, lingering in a hug with the Maximoff girl before you finally leave, walking home with a love sick smile on your face. Little did you know, the same one is gracing Wanda’s face as she closes up the shop and makes her way home.
— – — – — – — – —
When the day of the concert comes around, you’re nervous.
You don’t know why. You could play this piece in your sleep, but for some reason, the same nerves that were with you during your first performance as a child are now fluttering around in your stomach as you sit on a piano bench in the town square.
Wanda is talking with some of the other students, and you try and distract yourself by looking at her with adoration in your eyes, but it all comes back at a higher level when she notices you and winks your way.
She’s so pretty, and you fight the urge to slam your head on the instrument as she finishes up her conversation and begins walking towards you.
“Hey hon. How you feeling?” Wanda stands behind you, rubbing your shoulders reassuringly as she reads over the notes on your sheet music. You shrug, blushing brightly at her touch as you pretend to be focusing on smoothing out your shirt of non-existent wrinkles.
“I’m okay. Kinda nervous.” You say, and the blush only deepens when she hums in understanding and places a kiss on the top of your head.
“Don’t be. You’re going to be great.” Her words make you grin, and you lean your head back to rest on her stomach as she gently runs her fingers through your hair. Someone calls her name, so she gently caresses your face before patting your back and walking away.
Oh the things that Wanda Maximoff does to you.
While you’re waiting for your turn on stage, you get bored, so you sit back on the bench and begin to quickly play through one of the hardest songs you know. It took forever to learn and you still mess up every once and a while, but it still would sound beautiful to anyone and by the end of it, you do hear someone slightly chuckle in shock.
It isn't a happy laugh or happy shock though. That much you can tell.
“I didn’t teach you that.” A slightly bitter tone speaks, and you slowly turn around to come face to face with Wanda, fists clenched at her sides and a curious but slightly annoyed expression on her face.
You want to continue to lie, to tell her you’ve been working hard and her lessons are paying off, but no one who’s only been playing for a few months would be able to play that and she obviously knows the truth now.
“You wasted my time.” She says coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s no longer the bubbly girl you’ve come to have the pleasure of knowing, instead going back to the closed off woman you first met. It’s all your fault.
You look down in shame, letting the bouquet rest by your side. “I’m so sorry Wanda.”
Wanda scoffs, glaring at you before she storms out of the room. She’s pissed, but a warm feeling settles in her chest at the knowledge you went through all of this to hang out with her, even with the thought that you don’t have a chance with her. You still wasted her time though, and you lied to her for weeks, almost months. How can she trust that you truly aren’t just some psycho?
You stay in the middle of town square, tears forming in your eyes as more and more people gather to listen to the other pianists. You’re falling in love with Wanda Maximoff, and up until this point, it’s only ever been clear and sunny skies. What are you supposed to do now that your first cloud has appeared?
— – — – — – — – —
After that, you stop going to your lessons.
Wanda finds herself missing you every time 6 o’clock comes around and you don’t come sprinting into the shop with your work uniform still on, rambling about something a stupid customer did like you’ve known Wanda forever. It feels like that, that’s for sure.
You spend every day in an endless cycle. Get up, go to work, walk the long way so you don’t risk running into Wanda outside of her music store, work a nine hour shift, and return to your quiet apartment where you sit in silence and mourn for someone that still lives. 
Maybe you should adopt a dog.
One especially rough day, you wake up late, your alarm clock having turned off during a storm last night and reset itself all while you were asleep. Because of this, you wake up with five minutes to get ready and even less time to sprint to work, so you can’t take the long way like you usually do.
It’s lightly sprinkinly outside, so you don’t bother taking a jacket in the midst of chaos. That was clearly the wrong decision, as only a few minutes into your walk there, it starts absolutely pouring, and just like that, your uniform is soaked and you’re shivering. You don’t have any time to go back though, so you fight on, staying right next to the buildings for a bit of protection and you don’t even notice the person carefully watching you as you fastly walk down the sidewalk.
“Hey!” Someone calls out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a familiar building. It’s calm and quiet music is playing somewhere, but all you can focus on is that Wanda is standing in front of you, holding out a dry towel for you to grab.
You hesitate, grabbing it and holding it closely around your body in hopes of stopping the cold feeling in your bones. It’s much warmer in here and the only rain is tapping against the window from outside, but Wanda is here and she looks at you with a type of distaste you’ve never seen before.
“I need to get to work. I’m late.” You mumble eventually after a few minutes of silence, but she just puts her hands on your shoulders and rubs them to bring you more warmth as she replies calmly, “No. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
You go to argue, but she simply shakes her head and sits down at your piano on the other end of the room. She begins to play a simple but calm song, and she watches in the corner of her eye as you sink down on the couch next to the fireplace and slowly close your eyes. You’re still awake though, that much she can tell by the way your fingers tap along to the pattern of the music.
Finally she slowly stops the song, letting her hands fall to rest on her thighs as she stares at the keyboard with her eyebrows furrowed.
“Why would you lie to me?”
You open your eyes, watching with a guilty but sincere look as she chews on her lower lip and gently presses a few of the keys. “I’m truly sorry Wanda. I figured if we spent that time together, I would be able to learn more about you…in hopes of eventually asking you out. It was stupid, and wrong, and I’m sorry.”
She sighs, closing the keyboard cover and turning to face you. “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”
Your eyes widen in shock. Is she messing with you?
Wanda continues, “If you had just told me all of that when we first met, we could have gone out and gotten dinner or- or lunch or on a picnic like normal people.” You nod along, silently fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt. “So go ahead.”
You’re silent for a second, looking around as if wondering if she’s talking to you to which she giggles and nods. That laugh could fix all your issues.
“Wanda Maximoff, I’d really like to get to know you. The right way this time. Will you go out with me?” You ask nervously after clearing your throat and sitting up in your seat.
Wanda smirks, rubbing her chin as if in deep thought. “I don’t know…”
You laugh a bit when she does, though you’re too busy smiling brightly as she nods. “I’d love to go out with you. No lying to me this time though. And you have to teach me that song you were playing at the recital.”
“No way. A magician never reveals their secrets.” You tease, sitting next to her on the bench as she laces your hands together and says with her own smile, “Oh really? So I just agreed to a date for nothing? You’re mean.”
 All is fair in love and music though.
⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ
518 notes · View notes
ywnstrd · 11 days
Note
this hits hard especially when I'm also sick
hi can you please do something where reader gets in trouble so has to go to weems office for a meeting but she wakes up with the cold/flu and still drags herself there, shes barely paying attention to the lecture shes getting on behaviour but weems is so annoyed she doesnt notice until her sneezes/sniffles give her away despite reader being adamant shes fine? leading to some soft taking care of by weems?
Sickness and Spiders
Pairings: Weems x Reader (platonic)
Word count: 1.3K
Summary: You get in trouble for something you didn’t fully understand, the whole time your feeling sick as and Weems is yet too notice.
TW: vomiting, flu symptoms, spiders (mentioned), fainting (mentioned), lectures, fever
A/n loved this request, hope you do too :)
I mean was it really your fault, had you known Wednesday was going to use the spiders to torment Bianca you would have never given them to her. You should have known better, yes. But the classes you had all afternoon, had seemed to numb your already aching mind. Yoko had been sick a few days ago and was starting to get over it, her vampire immune system reducing the flu to a simple cold. However, being around her in close quarters for days on end as the two of you shared a dorm meant you had gotten her “cold.”
After Wednesday had accidentally outted your (unknowing and unwilling) involvement in her plot, you had spent the afternoon in detention. Which you had spent staring at the wall with a blank look as your head seemed to have invisible hands stuff your sinuses and skull with cotton and sand. You had barely even registered being let out before you stumbled down the hall to your dorm which luckily wasn’t too far. You had to see the principal tomorrow morning as she had spent the afternoon dealing with Wednesday and her punishment. Maybe you could plead your case and …. That would never work.
You stumbled over to your bed curling up on-top of the sheets deciding to forgo dinner as your stomach churned at the room seemed to be freezing. You fell asleep at five in the afternoon still in your uniform and hair done up.
It had barely felt like five minutes before you felt hands shaking your shoulder. Blearily you looked up at the attacker through have lidded eyes. Your head was pounding, and your stomach churned. You couldn’t breathe through your nose at all and somehow at the same time it was running down your top lip. Your lips were chapped, and your eyes glazed with the haze of fever.
Darting your tongue out to try and rehydrate your lips you blinked up as you realised Yoko was standing over you.
“Dude. Jeez you look like hell. Are you ok?” She asked and you wiped your nose on your sleeve which made her wince and let out a deep and throaty yes, your voice surprising you at how congested you sounded.
“If you say so. Weems wanted you in her office ten minutes ago. But you should probably-“ you launched off the bed and stumbled righting yourself against the wall and took off down the hall still in yesterdays crumpled uniform.
“-stay here.” Yoko finished looking at your empty bed with a frown.
You did your best to stand upright as you knocked on the door, swaying slightly. Suddenly the door flew open with an angry looking Weems saying there. At the sudden movement your head swam, and you took a step back. Weems took this as an escape attempt and grabbed your arm pulling you inside. You stumbled and weems thrust you into the chair in-front of her desk.
She barely looked at you as she began to lecture.
“I expect this kind of thing from Wednesday, you however Y/n… have been one of my most promising students. I worry what would happen if you chose to follow a path like Ms Addams. I should suspend you; those spiders scared half the first years to death. One actually fainted. She would be concussed if Ms Thornhill hadn’t caught her…” Weems continued to rant as you tried and failed to listen. You had zoned out looking at the stuffed crow on her bookshelf. Eyes still glassy. Your stomach was churning something awful, and you lifted you sleeve, sniffling and wiping your nose on your already wet sleeve. You grimaced at the texture and brought a hand to rest over your stomach. It hurt a lot as it did flips and gurgled angrily.
Weems was pacing now, still not looking at you as she went on and on about how disappointed she was with you. But it sounded like she was underwater. Noise was distorted as your fever raged, messing with your senses and perception of reality. You swayed where you sat using one hand to grip the edge of the desk to stop yourself falling out of the chair. You stifled a sneeze in your elbow grimiaing as it made your head pound with newfound force. It felt like your heart had been moved to between your ears as it was all you could hear.
You sat trying to stabilise your breathing as saliva began to gather in your mouth. You were feeling worse and worse.
Weems froze her back to you, her lecture stopping as she heard you gag. Unfreezing she spun on her heels just in time to watch you throw up in your own lap. For the first time that day she looked at you. You had deep bags under your eyes. Forehead covering a sheen of sweat. Eye glassy. Nose and cheeks pink and skin pale. Drooping eyelids and now dressed in a sicked-on uniform.
Her anger melted in an instant and she crossed the office in a few strides. Perks of being tall. She knelt next to you and looked into your eyes which moved sluggishly to meet hers.
“Oh darling.” She said turning and grabbing some tissues off her desk to wipe your chin clean. You let out a heartbreaking whimper and buried your face in your hands.
“Sh shhh. None of that now sweetheart.” She said and pried your hands off. She felt your face for a fever frowning as she felt a very present and very hot one raging under your pale and flushed skin.
“Sit tight for me darling.” She said and you gave a weak nod. She quickly left and returned with a towel, a plastic bag and a change of what looked like her old clothes. She peeled your uniform off you carefully throwing it in the bag. She wrapped you in the towel still in your underwear as she wiped you clean with a wet rag. Once you felt slightly better, she tapped your arm.
“Arms up sweetie.” She said and you complied slowly. She wrestled the short onto you and you let her. After a minute she pressed a thermometer to your lips which you accepted. Finding your fever too high for her liking weems gathered some more supplies and fed you some medicine. Figuring you had to the flu and most likely threw up from the fever and nausea.
Gently she guided you to the couch and laid a towel down for you to sleep in case you didn’t make it to the bathroom again if you felt sick again later. She placed a bucket next to the couch and wiped the sweaty hair from your eyes. With a hand she cupped your cheek as you began to fall asleep.
“Im sorry darling. I should have known something was wrong when your name came up.” She said softly. “I know you would never do that in your right mind.” She rubber her thumb over your cheek bone and you nuzzled into her hand.
“‘M s’rry. I di’nt know she’s gonna throw them at the fi’st yea’s” you slurred tired and weems chuckled softly.
“Im sure you didn’t darling. Now rest.” She said and patted your cheek before removing her hand and going to stand up.
“Stay.” You said weakly grabbing her hand.
“Of course, darling. Let me just grab my laptop.” She said going over to her desk before returning and sitting opposite you.
“Close your eyes my darling, you need sleep. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“G’night mama.” You said confused from the fever. Weems froze before softening.
“Goodnight sweetheart.” She said fighting tears that you saw her as a mother.
MASTERLIST
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ywnstrd · 11 days
Text
If you haven’t seen already, there is a person on TikTok @/this_is_slim who posted a video talking about how rude Reneè was when she tried to ask for a pic at Coachella.
First off, let me say this loud and clear.
CELEBRITIES DON’T OWE YOU ANYTHING.
Reneè is there to work, have fun, and watch other people perform. She is not there to take a pic at the drop of a hat. She has the right to say no. For you to sit down and make a TikTok talking about how rude she was, commenting about how you feel like since she’s a up and coming artist who OWES you their time and a pic, AND for the whole video, you don’t even call her by her name? You call her Regina George the entire time? Wtf??
Listen, I’ve never been to Coachella, but I know it basically become a place where people go JUST to meet celebs. You go there to watch people perform, not harass a celebrity for pictures and then when they say no, you go on social media and put them on blast.
So allow me to say it again for the ones in the cheap seats:
CELEBRITIES. OWE. YOU. NOTHING.
Do better.
165 notes · View notes
ywnstrd · 11 days
Text
making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.
disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh
to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.
the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.
i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.
and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.
and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.
gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.
but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.
on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.
i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.
i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?
and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?
the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:
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????????
are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.
and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.
i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.
that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.
before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘
291 notes · View notes
ywnstrd · 12 days
Text
:Hot Chocolate or Hot Principal?
Me: A hot Principal drinking hot chocolate 🫢
197 notes · View notes
ywnstrd · 12 days
Text
I'm a feminist obviously but I really wouldn't mind her saving me😷
Guard Dog
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Pairing: Leighton Murray x Reader
Warning(s): None!
Word Count: 1000, Part 1/?
Just a little Leighton fic based on this tiktok.
You stirred your drink lazily and refreshed the app one more time just for good measure. 
No new messages. 
You turned your phone off and sighed then finished off your drink in one gulp. The bartender swung by and cleared your empty glass and offered you another and you shook your head, saying, “just water, please,” hoping to sober up before heading home and putting this failure of a Friday night behind you. 
A pretty blonde girl walked up to the empty barstool beside you and barked out her order to the bartender while preemptively handing him her ID, then she loosely directed her next words to you, “excuse me, is this seat taken?”
“Not anymore, go ahead.”
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything in response as she sat in the stool and began rummaging through her tiny purse, pulling out a compact and touching up her face of makeup.
“Did you have a date or something?” The blonde asked, not turning to look at you. 
“I don’t know if it was a date,” you replied, “but someone was supposed to meet me. I’ve been waiting for over an hour.”
She closed her compact and returned it to her bag as the bartender was sliding a cocktail across the counter to her. 
“And they haven’t messaged you, I assume?”
“Nope.” You responded. 
“Asshole.”
You shrugged, “I wasn’t that excited about it anyways.” 
The blonde nodded and sipped from her drink with an elegance that was both admirable and off-putting. You envisioned her taking family vacations to Napa, feeling comfortable on yachts, purchasing a new pair of red-bottoms every season. 
The woman’s attention had been captured by her own phone, and you started to long for your bed. 
You were waiting to flag down the bartender and get your bill when a random guy approached you, carrying two beers. You rolled your eyes without him seeing.
“Hey girl, you are looking fine, let me enjoy a beer witchu.” 
You began, “oh, I was actually just-”
The blonde woman interjected, “excuse me, do you like, know this man?”
The dude groaned and slouched, “aw, come on we were just talking!”
She held up an index finger in front of him, “silence, mouth-breather, I wasn’t speaking to you yet,” then she looked at you expectantly, awaiting your answer. 
You shook your head, “no, I don’t.”
“Do you want to know him?”
“Not really.”
She nodded and turned to the offending guy, “she doesn’t want to talk to you. Goodbye.”
“What the fuck? I was just trying to be nice!”
“Well, you’re not being nice, you're being a creep and she doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“Fucking bitch,” the man scoffed at blonde. 
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and sat up a little taller, “yep. Now remove yourself from the premises before I have security do it for you.”
The man raised his hands in surrender and backed away slowly, glaring at your rescuer, before finally turning and storming out of the bar with two of his buddies right behind him.
You exhaled, “Jesus… thank you for that.”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder, “oh my god, of course. Don’t even mention it.”
The bartender returned and passed your receipt to you but the woman grabbed the slip of paper between manicured fingers and spoke to the bartender, “no, please put her bill on my tab. Leighton Murray. Thank you.”
“Oh you don’t have to do that.” 
“I know but I’m going to, you’ve had a shitty night.”
“It’s really not necessary-”
“Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s nothing.” The blonde was putting her foot down and you felt completely disarmed by her. She clicked on her phone, “you were leaving, right? I’m calling you and Uber and I’ll walk you out, I’m not having you leave by yourself. He seemed like the type to wait in the parking lot.”
“You’re… that’s really above and beyond, I can’t accept-”
“I insist. Now, where are you heading?”
You considered denying her. You considered saying, thank you, but no thank you. 
“Essex College.” 
She raised an eyebrow again, “are you a student?”
You nodded, “I am, yeah. Junior.”
She smiled, “oh, wow! I’m a senior at Essex. I can’t believe I don’t know you. Come on, let’s just head back to campus together. I’m Leighton.”
You returned her smile and introduced yourself. She echoed your name back and then took hold of your hand, you thought she was just going to shake it but instead she stood up and gently led you out of the bar. 
You glanced around the parking lot and didn’t see the group of guys, “seems all clear…”
“You can never be too careful,” she answered with a shrug, “do you want me to leave you be?”
You couldn’t help but look her up and down. She was stunning. Taller than you in heels, and likely without them, too. She was still holding your hand. Her skin was soft and you could smell her perfume. She used her free hand to run her fingers through her hair, pushing it back, and you were done for. 
You looked at her lips and unknowingly bit down on your own, “No. I don’t want that…”
She smirked. A black car pulled up beside you and Leighton gestured for you to get in ahead of her. 
You squeezed her hand and then opened the car door. She lightly touched your lower back as you got into the car and it made you shudder. 
You quietly looked out the window as the car took you back to your college campus. You found yourself thinking about how it wasn’t fair for women like Leighton to exist because your hands were shaking and she hadn’t even done anything. You balled your hands into fists and sighed, not meaning to make a noise when you did.
“Is everything okay?” Leighton asked. 
You were shocked out of your thoughts, “Yes! Well, no… I mean, yes, everything is fine, it’s just…”
“Just…?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you met the blonde’s eyes, “I don’t want my night to end just yet.”
293 notes · View notes
ywnstrd · 13 days
Text
all those g!p gwen characters fanfics are getting onto me...
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11 notes · View notes
ywnstrd · 14 days
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leaking - WHO SAID THAT.
Can we please give a round of applause for the writers who write the most unholy, jaw dropping, leg shaking smut🤭
574 notes · View notes
ywnstrd · 16 days
Text
This reminds me of Jennifer's body, upcoming song from nxdia. I don't know, but her song keeps repeating inside my head while reading this
Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 2
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Fandom;
Mean Girls (2024)
Pairings:
Regina George x Reader
Summary:
The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.
Warnings;
Underage smoking, underage drinking, ED mentions.
Parts
Part 1// Part 2//
Regina doesn’t say a word to you, or even glance your way.
She storms in and throws her bag down onto the bed next to yours, sweeping your clothes onto the floor with her hand. You open you mouth to protest but she cuts you off.
“Not a word, loser.”
Loser means she hasn’t got anything specific against you. No blackmail material, no weird rumours. Loser is a good place to be.
You sit on your bed and watch in silence as she starts to replace the pillows on the bed with her own pink pillows and satin blanket. She takes up over half the drawers for her own clothes, moving yours into a single pile at the bottom of the shared wardrobe. She puts her makeup and toothbrush, both varying shades of pink in the bathroom. She’s marking her territory.
“Don’t touch my shit.” She scowls, flips her hair and swiftly leaves the cabin. Her faint vanilla scent lingers in the air. It’s both intoxicating and sickly.
You wait a few minutes before you leave too, just to make sure you don’t accidentally bump into her and make yourself a target. The last thing you want is to be Regina’s plaything of the week.
Todays activity would be orienteering. You stand around the campfire pit, avoiding the crowd, waiting for instruction on where to go.
“Please stay in your room groups, follow the map you’ve been given. You’ll be taken to where your group will be starting, just follow the map back to camp. Everyone understand?”
There are excited chatters as everyone groups up with their friends. Unfortunately for you, the crowd parts to reveal Regina who’s giving you a look like she might murder you in the woods and leave you there.
You wait, in silence, next to Regina, for a camp member to pick you up in a jeep and drive through the forest to your particular starting point.
“Please don’t make me, don’t leave me here. I’m too pretty for this” Regina whines as the keep drives away, leaving you both stranded in a clearing.
Against better judgement you decide to speak. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go with Karen and Gretchen.”
“Whatever, just give me the map.” She snaps and snatches it from your hands. Wordlessly she stomps off through the trees. You have no option but to follow like a lost puppy.
As it happens, Regina isn’t a great map reader. And lots of the forest looks identical which makes it even harder. Your feet start to ache, you feel like you’ve been walking in circles for the past couple of hours.
“Can I please just look quickly, I trust you know where we’re going but I think I should still just look at the map” you try to reason which was clearly an awful move because she starts to turn around slowly to face you.
She moves,she’s stalking you like prey as she comes towards you.
“Are you calling me dumb?” She growls.
You shake your head, suddenly unable to speak, afraid that any sound past your lips would make her pounce.
“I’m reading the map, loser. I don’t want to be stuck out here any longer than necessary.” She spins around and continues her forward march through the forest.
This is going to be a long day.
It’s been hours since you or Regina said a word to each other, and hours since you started walking. You hadn’t stopped for a break. You managed to eat an apple while you walked, throwing the core into a bush but Regina hadn’t taken her hands off of the map to eat, drink or give you a look at where you were going.
You felt for your box of cigarettes in your pocket. Regina probably wouldn’t turn around or notice, and you needed one now, Regina is really starting to test your patience. Just as you put the cigarette to your lips ready to light ,Regina’s knee buckles and she trips slightly, heading straight for the ground.
Instinctively you go to catch her, both hands under her arms.
“Get off me weirdo.” She barks but it comes out a little more strained than usual. She’s gone pale and there’s a sheen of sweat across her perfect forehead. Somehow she’s still effortlessly beautiful.
She pushes herself up and tries to keep walking but her legs start to falter again and you rush forward again and catch her as she faints.
You try calling her name, shaking her gently, offering her water but nothing brings her round. Her hands feel cold.
Fuck.
In a panic you call the emergency number a teacher had given you and someone says they’ll come to collect you both in a jeep and administer first aid.
Regina comes round before the jeep arrives and you can feel the anger and embarrassment radiating off her. You try and think of something to say. She doesn’t speak to you the entire way back.
Everyone stares as they see you both come back to camp after being picked up but Regina plays it off well, bragging that she even gets treated like royalty here. You admire her ability to make quick excuses, and to be honest she still looks like royalty. Beautiful blonde hair cascading past her shoulders, icy blue eyes, sweet vanilla scent, outfit still perfect. Only you noticed the lingering sweat, the nervous look in her eye and the slight grass stain on the back of her jacket.
When the car stops Regina gets out and immediately goes to find Gretchen and Karen to sit together for dinner. Half of you is glad she’s gone, she was starting to get irritating, but you also want to make sure she’s okay. You go back to the table you were at before, you can’t help but watch her again.
Just making sure she’s okay, you repeat to yourself.
This time you watch her eat closely, notice she picks up food and when her friends aren’t looking and drops it under the bench onto the dusty floor. You wonder if that’s why she fainted earlier. You’re not sure why the thought of that makes you angry, and a knot forms in your stomach. It makes it hard to finish your food.
When dinner is over the teachers watch the three girls closely, making sure they go back to their newly assigned cabins. All three comply which means there’s a moody Regina heading your way.
You sit on your bed and pretend not to hear the door open, and keep your eyes fixed on your phone, pretending to read or maybe scroll social media.
The giveaway is that you forgot to let out the breath you were holding.
“If you tell anyone what happened I will ruin your life.”
You just nod, not daring to look up at her until you hear her lay on her bed and roll so she’s facing the wall away from you.
Then you allow your eyes to look at the sleeping lioness, her breathing seems slow. Maybe she’s asleep.
Your eyes trace down her curves- that is dangerous territory. You look away sharply just incase somehow she knows you’re looking.
She’s probably asleep.
You reach over to your bag and try and pull out your switch as quietly as possible. Mario kart, that’ll take your mind off of Regina.
You’re on your third lap when you feel the bed move and smell that addicting, warm vanilla scent.
“What is that you’re playing, dweeb?” It’s like she can’t even ask a normal question without it being insulting.
“Mario kart? Have you never played Mario kart?” You question her, meeting her gaze which seems slightly less intense than usual. To be honest, you can’t really picture someone like Regina playing a dorky game like Mario.
You disconnect the joy cons and throw one at her. She gives you a wary, icy look and picks up one of the controllers, scooting closer while still maintaining a large gap between you both.
You’re disappointed for some reason.
She obviously picks peach, and the pinkest cart, completely ignoring its stats which makes you giggle to yourself. You play as Bowser.
The first race you explain the controls to her, she picks it up quite quickly but you have years of experience on her and win.
She pouts and sends a glare your way. You stick your tongue out.
She giggles, Regina giggles and it might be the best sound you’ve heard. You definitely want to hear more. She doesn’t seem threatening like this. How much of Regina was an act?
The second race, she loses again, you win but not by too much, she’s definitely getting better. When you look over at her, her brows are furrowed and she’s completely lost in the game now, determined to win. The way she licks her lips when she’s concentrating makes you blush, and you’re glad she doesn’t look up.
The third game is nearly neck and neck but you beat her again. She finally snaps.
“What the fuck, you gave me a shit controller! I could have beat you!” She yells.
“Not my fault you suck at Mario kart.” You quip back bravely. She also sucks at losing apparently.
Suddenly she springs up and pounces, desperately trying to grab the controller off of you, but you hold on. You nearly forget why you’re holding it, mostly you’re squeezing the controller to distract yourself from Regina’s hair tickling your face, her lips being so close, her knees either side of your thighs.
She puts up a good fight but you start to see that familiar sheen of sweat and she seems cold and clammy all of a sudden. She must notice this because she huffs out a whatever and gets up, wobbling to her bed.
You miss everything about her suddenly, that one hit of the real Regina was enough to have you addicted.
She lays again, but this time face up, trying to control her breathing. You realise she’s on the verge of passing out again.
“I have a cereal bar in my bag, I don’t want it, you’re welcome to have it.”
She huffs and looks at you.
“I’m not accepting food from anyone after that stunt Cady Heron pulled. Who knows, you might be giving me a bar of lard.” She spits, but you can tell even speaking is hard for her now.
“It was just an offer.” You reply quietly.
Once she’s steadied herself again she stands and rummage through her bag, pulling out a half empty bottle of vodka and 2 plastic cups. She pours 2 shots worth into both and fills it with a fizzy orange mixer. She hands you a cup.
“You better not get too drunk and puke and get me into trouble like Karen.” She says as she takes a sip.
You both drink in silence for a while. The alcohol makes you feel warm and fuzzy, and a little too calm in Regina’s presence.
“Why don’t I know you?” Regina suddenly breaks the silence.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re not a new student, so why don’t I know you, I don’t know what you’re about.” She leans towards you like she’s inspecting you.
“I don’t know I just stay out of the drama.” You answer truthfully.
“Huh, boring answer.” She says taking another drink. “You’re friends with Pyro Lez though, that’s not exactly staying out of it.”
You shake your head “I only started hanging with them after that whole mess. Me and Janis have a mutual interest.”
“Is it girls?”
You stutter for a moment and see a glimpse of intrigue flash across Regina’s face.
“It’s art.”
You haven’t lied. That’s what connected you and Janis in the first place, it was a lucky dodge to the question.
She’s staring at you with an unreadable expression and you decide to stand awkwardly and get your cigarettes. You need a break from Regina, this feels all too much like she’s trying to uncover your weak spot.
It’s hard to tell what’s genuine or not.
You sneak outside to your spot from last night and light the cigarette, inhaling deeply, mostly from the butterflies in your stomach, bouncing around your rib cage.
Obviously you noticed Regina at school, who didn’t? But you’ve never had this much interaction with her. You can see why people fall victim to her so easily, there’s a side to her that seems so real, Is this part of her trap? Maybe you’re just easy prey but the chase is feeling all too thrilling.
Everything about her draws you in, golden hair, soft lips, even her scent. Are her lips as soft as they look?
Before you can register, the cigarette is pulled from your lips as you see Regina take a drag and then place it back between your fingers.
You skin burns where her hand brushes yours.
Suddenly she reaches to grip your hand, steadying herself. She clearly feels faint again. She’s swaying slightly and she looks like she’s losing focus.
“You need to eat something.” You state bluntly.
“Whatever you don’t know me.” She spits back, but she’s still gripping your hand. She starts to lean a bit too much.
“Fuck, Regina. Okay we’re going back inside.” You have to half drag her back inside the cabin and prop her up on the bed.
You check the cabins mini fridge, you brought enough food to sustain you that week. You didn’t know if the camp would have vegan food so better safe than sorry. Luckily the cabin had a mini fridge, probably for drinks but you stored some meals in there to keep fresh, and there was a microwave in the small kitchen.
You grab a pot and throw it in the microwave. Hopefully Regina doesn’t mind mushrooms.
She’s still laying on the bed, eyes squeezed shut, trying to get the room to stop spinning. You feel momentarily guilty for drinking with her, you knew she hadn’t eaten, it was a bad idea.
The microwave pings and you grab a fork and take it over to Regina.
“I’m not eating that, it’s probably processed shit.” It comes out as a defeated sigh.
“I made it, just eat something please, passing out wouldn’t be a good look” This makes her think, and she picks up the fork and takes a bite. The whole time she’s glaring at you so you decide to sit on the bed and play on your switch again.
You don’t look up for a good half an hour. Worried that Regina will stop eating if you so much as move. Clearly the whole thing with Cady has made her wary of food. The thought makes you feel sick. The plastics may rule the school but the constant insecurity that seems to come with it is too big of a price to pay.
A quiet voice breaks the silence.
“Thank you.”
You smile slightly but still don’t look up from your game until you hear shuffling and Regina is holding your sketchbook before you have time to snatch it back.
Your heart is in your throat, you’re not sure why her possible criticism of your sketch bothers you so much.
“This is beautiful.”
You’re beautiful, you idiot why don’t you see it, you think, but don’t say it out loud.
She tears the page from your book. Great, Back to cruel Regina, tearing up anything she doesn’t see as worthy.
What you don’t expect is her folding and placing the sketch under her pillow.
“I’m tired now.” She yawns and climbs into bed, flicking the lamp next to her off.
You’re left in the dark, confused, but you can’t help the small smile that creeps across your lips.
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