#like me saying ‘I think I’m good enough at art that people would buy it from me.’ that feels so bold and like. arrogant or something dhjsjd | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cal-flakes · 3 months

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sorry for spamming your acc i’ve js been obsessed with your fics!! i was thinking like reader only just getting used to Rafe spoiling her and then overhearing people call her like a gold digger and going back to not wanting him to spend as much as a cent on her and crying that people think of her that way and him comforting her and assuring her he WANTS to spend his money on her and takes her on a shopping spree the next day or something? idek, ignore this if you don’t like it ❤️

╰┈➤ spoil you

warnings: cursing, threats (sort of)

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hot tears trickled down her flushed face as her hands struggled, furiously shoving the lavish materials back into their rightful bags. ‘she’s just using him’ — the words cut and nipped at her as they did laps in her mind, spitefully. she couldn’t see the jealousy in those same words through teary eyes, she almost believed them. what am i doing? she thought.

exhaling deeply, she sat back against her bed, her fingers threading through the plush carpet as her eyes scanned the shopping bags before her. dollars upon dollars lay before her, scattered around her bedroom, hidden by the paper wearing all of the expensive names. dior, chanel, versace and so on. her hands moved to squeeze and pinch at her own skin, desperately wishing to be out of it. she felt disgusting, how could she let such a sweet boy do this for her? how could such a shallow girl wear such materials?

her racing thoughts were quickly distracted by the heavy footsteps on the stairs, coming to a stop outside her bedroom door.

“y/n? baby? you ready to go?” the voice asked so calmly, blissfully unaware of the mess on the other side. through sniffles, y/n quickly wiped away the remaining tears. “i—um, i don’t think i want to go..” she muttered, just loud enough for a frown to pull at his features.

he tilted his head, unbeknownst to her as he moved to the handle, working quickly to shove the door open. rafe’s mouth fell agape as he rushed towards her frame, curled up on the floor, tear marks painting the beautiful dress he’d requested she wore to their date that day.

“sweetheart, what’s wrong? did someone upset you?” he cooed, yet the gruff, threatening undertone didn’t go unnoticed. shaking her head, she relaxed into his touch as he slotted himself next to her, pulling her head into his sweater clad chest. “then why are you crying baby?”

catching her breath, her eyes moved to the floor, unwilling to meet his eyes as if she’d burst into tears once again. “do you— do you think i’m using you?” y/n whimpered, blinking away any tears threatening to spill. rafe’s eyebrows knit together as he craned his neck to look down at her, all sorts of questions filling his mind.

“my sweet girl— what are you talking about? ‘course i don’t” he soothed, reaching a steady hand to cup her cheek. “why would you say that?”

—

after a good, long hour of more tears and an abundance of reassurance, rafe had finally managed to calm the flow of tears seeping through his sweater, through the art of forehead kisses and soft words.

“baby, what have i told you about listening to such spiteful words? huh? you are in no way a brat, or using me, or shallow, m’kay?” he sighed, pulling his lips into a thin line. “i buy you these things—“ gesturing to the mountains of bags and teddy bears, “because i want the absolute best for you, i want you to feel good, i want you to feel so unbelievably adored you don’t know what to do with yourself, alright?”

“but— but i can’t do the same for you rafey, i want to, i want to buy you things too! but i can’t..” she frowned, her bottom lip wobbling as she spoke. “you do enough y/n, you don’t need to buy me things, the feeling of you lying on me at night is enough, the smile on your face when i walk through that door— is more than enough”

sighing contently, y/n nodded as she melted further into him— if that was possible.

“you gonna cheer up now? let me take you out?” he chuckled, twirling a slender hand around a couple strands of her now tangled hair. “mhm”

—

“wait! your walking too fast rafe!” y/n pouted, drawing a hearty chuckle from him as he came to an exaggerated halt. holding out his arm for her, he waited as she skipped along the concrete, giggling profusely as she quickly linked her arm with his. “where to first?” he asked, the infamous smirk once again plastered on his face.

y/n’s face scrunched as she thought hard about this question, her hand— which was tightly wrapped around his forearm, coming to her attention. “well, i do need my nails repainted, they’re so grown out now!” she chirped, beaming up at him hopefully.

chuckling, he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before leading her through the streets. “little brat..” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. “hey!” she yelped, swatting his chest. “that’s not funny!”

“only teasing sweetheart, what colour were you thinkin’?”

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

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familyvideostevie · 6 months

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october twenty-fourth

day twenty-four: james potter james forgets his gloves on a walk along the river | established relationship, fluff, first i love you | 1.2k

The city is lovely this time of year. People clinging to the evenings where a heat lamp is enough to convince everyone to sit outside, vendors selling scarves and hot nuts on the bridges. The days are getting shorter, yes, but you bask in the chill and the energy of it all. Autumn is a season of change, of preparation, and you adore it.

The path along the river is bustling, full of young people drinking beer and kids on skateboards and couples like you and James. You’re due to meet your friends for dinner in about an hour but you got here early to stop at a bookshop and just spend time together.

He’s bought you mulled wine and himself spiced cider. The cups are doing wonders for warming your hands, which are cold even through your gloves. James, however, has forgotten his entirely, and the tips of his long piano fingers are starting to look the wrong color.

“Are you sure you don’t want at least one of my gloves?” you ask him. He shakes his head and reaches for you with one hand. You twine your fingers together as if it’ll keep him warm. James is the kind of person who will not admit that he’s cold even as he’s freezing to death.

“I’m not sacrificing your fingers because of my idiocy, love,” he says. “I’ll be alright.”

You pout at him and he laughs.

“None of that, come on now.” He kisses the pout from your lips until you’re laughing.

“James, don’t spill my wine!”

He tugs you into his side. “Sorry, sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all.

You study him as you walk. His hair is windswept by the breeze coming off the river, his glasses clean only because you cleaned them a few minutes ago. He did remember a scarf, one you knitted him last month in preparation for the cold. Maybe you should buy him a pair of gloves for every coat. You really wish he would look out for himself more, not just everyone around him. But you can handle it being your job.

“Do you think Marlene will be cross if we show up tipsy?” you ask.

He looks at you with amusement in his eyes. “Are you already? You’ve had less than one wine.”

“No!” He laughs. “I just think we should get another, since they’re so warming.” James has finished his and tosses it in a bin.

“You don’t need to worry about my body temperature,” he says. “I will be just fine.”

You grumble. You worry! How could you not? He’s your boyfriend.

The smooth sound of a cello drifts towards you as you walk. “Do you think the buskers are out?” you ask James.

“I love that guy with the tuba that spits fire.”

“Please tell me you don’t think you’re hearing a tuba right now, James.” He kisses your temple with a smile.

“No, love, I know what it is. Let’s find it.”

You end up having to walk under a bridge and through a narrow tunnel but you end up by the art museum James took you to on your first date. It’s a weird one, full of experimental art and big, open floors of interactive installations, but you’d been smitten with him immedietly.

“Good memories,” he says, as if he can read your mind.

“The best.” It’s you who presses a kiss to his cheek this time. “There’s the cellist. Shall we watch?”

James allows you to drag him to the edge of the small crowd that has gathered to listen. He stands behind you and, in a move that makes you feel slightly triumphant, wraps his arms around you and sticks his hands in your jacket pockets.

“You’re warm,” James says into your ear. You lean back into him, one hand on your wine and the other resting on his arm.

“You’re welcome.”

He sways you to the music. It’s like you’re in your own little world with James, sometimes. He has this ability to make everything else fade away, to make you feel like you’re the most special person in the universe, like he’d do anything for you. And you think he would. Your heart aches with the desire to tell him you love him, you realize, to whisper it in his ear every second. To shout it from the bridge so the whole city can hear. It hits you like a truck.

How did you not realize before?

Standing here with him, his hands in your pockets because he likes to be close to you and he knows you’ll keep him warm, is the best place you could be right now. You are happy. A laugh bubbles its way out of you as the cellist starts to play a love song you heard on the radio this morning.

“What’s with you?” James asks, tone cheeky. “Got the giggles?”

You keep laughing, turning your face so it’s in his neck while his hands are still in your pockets.

“God, I love you,” James says. He pulls his hands from your coat and cups your elbows instead and you stop laughing.

“James —” you say, turning in his hold.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he mutters.

Oh. Ouch. “Did you not mean it?” He hears the hurt in your voice and his eyes snap to you, reading the devastation in your gaze.

He quickly cradles your face and presses his lips to your brow. God, his hands really are cold.

“Of course I did,” he says in a rush. “I love you,” he says again. It sends a thrill down to your toes. “I just…meant to tell you in a more romantic way. Candles and dinner, or something.”

He kisses your lips this time, quick and hard, and flops his forehead onto your shoulder. The cellist keeps his rhythm, oblivious to the enormity of this moment between you.

“James,” you say, feeling a bit giddy. He loves you. “James, come back.”

“No,” he says, voice muffled by your jacket. “I’m embarrassed.”

You tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and he rises. His glasses are cooked so you straighten them.

“This is just fine,” you say. “This is perfect, actually.”

“Oh, is it?” he scoffs. “You’re just humoring me.”

“Maybe I am,” you say. You tug off one glove so you can rest your bare palm on his face. He leans into it. “But it’s alright. That’s what you do when you love someone.”

His gaze brightens, his mouth tugs up at the corner. “That so? How do you know, pray tell?”

You scrunch up your nose at him for playing this game, but you love it. You love him. “Because I love you, you silly man.”

He closes his eyes for just one moment as if he’s gathering himself. “I love you,” he says again.

“You said that already.”

“I’ll say it a million times.” You throw your arms around his neck and he pulls you tight to him, picking you up and spinning you around just once. People are probably staring but you don’t care.

“See?” you say once he sets you down, a little breathless. “Plenty romantic.”

James presses his forehead to yours. “If you say so, darling.” The cello plays on.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

#fvspromptober23 #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #marauders fanfiction

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charmingpplincardigans · 2 months

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How’s everyone doing? I’ll go first, I’m bad!

I have been ~*~struggling~*~ since mid-September and in the last two weeks it has just gotten unbearable. I feel like I’m drowning all the time. I’m having trouble keeping up with and reaching out to people I want to talk to. And that’s like, on top of always having been bad at getting back to people. *stares forlornly at the ask Chaz sent me like, literally two years ago that I think about daily but just. haven’t. RESPONDED TO.*

Things are just. Closing in on all sides unfortunately. I’ve been sick several times. I bounced this month’s rent check. A thing I had NEVER DONE BEFORE IN MY LIFE before this last move. My job is literally never going to pay me what I’m worth. Or anyone what they’re worth, frankly. I broke down in front of my boss the other day and just sobbed for an hour because after I pay my bills every paycheck I have just enough left over to buy groceries for two weeks, if I’m careful, and little else. Which means I’m putting stuff like gas on credit cards, which isn’t helping the debt that makes me feel like drowning in the first place. I’ve been at this job SEVENTEEN YEARS. A steady, corporate job. And I’ve never once in my entire time there made an actual cost of living raise!! The cost of living just keeps raising without me! (And also everyone else, I know!)

I’m super overdue on getting people the art they commissioned from me, but my brain just hasn’t been in a good enough place to create much of anything, and I keep thinking I have to get this done and then thinking they deserve better than this, around and around on a loop ad finitum. And there are a couple of other things going on personally that just fucking blow that I don’t know how to fix and I’m just gonna choke on it.

I haven’t done any fandom stuff since NYCC. I haven’t written on my WIP. I haven’t read fic. I don’t check in on the madness happening on twitter. I’ve barely popped my head into my favorite pirate group chat over the last five months or so. I miss doing all of that so much and my stupid brain is so broken that even when I try I can’t enjoy it.

Shit. I’m having a hard time getting work work done. I just sit down at my desk every day, answer emails, and then spend five or so hours frozen with anxiety because there’s too much to do and doing nothing is only making it worse every day.

I need to be back in therapy ASAP, but unfortunately you can’t eat therapy so I can’t pay for it!!

And I feel guilty saying any of this to almost everyone I would usually talk to. (Congrats and condolences to the rest of you!) Because they’re having a harder time than me. Or because they’d just want to give me a bit of money about it, which would fuck me up even more. Or because it’s just tedious and boring and no one wants to listen to me talk about this over and over again, even though it’s all my brain does every hour of every day. It’s a wonder I’m ever able to talk about anything else.

My boss is pretty great, in spite of it all. She’s constantly supportive (to the extent she can be), and she just. She tells me all the time how creative and wonderful and smart and cool to know I am. And every time I just like, tear up, because none of it feels true. But I also tear up when my friends and my partner say those things too. Because to me, a full grown adult without a savings or a 401K or the ability to like, go get drinks just because I want to, I feel like a complete and utter failure. So like. Whatever I guess!!

I need to find a new job that pays me way more. Then I can get a therapist to fix my brain and save money to pay down my debts and have money to have fun with my friends and not feel like a constant financial burden on everyone. Then I can have the brain power back to maybe work on my fic or complete that art or like, I don’t know, talk to the people who actively want to talk to me. You wouldn't think that part would be so hard, but it really, really is.

I’m working on it. I’ll keep working on it. I have LinkedIn open right now. I’m gonna fucking sob through it, but that doesn’t mean none of it will get done.

In the meantime, if anyone knows of a good way to make a quick $30 grand, I’m all ears.

#no one cares kl #it's an old-fashioned two am post #at four in the afternoon!#that's how bad things are!#all my shame units are being used so i don't have any to spare #on whether or not i should be messy in public!!!

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bullet-prooflove · 2 months

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LA!Series Part One: Relax - Manny x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @darqchilddaydreamz @theesirenteller @wnbweasley @bonni-98 @skyesthebomb @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @redpool @trublu2u @fleureeee @yezzyyae @jeybae @thiashazzywriting @lauraaan182 @hatersaremymotivators @fanfic-n-tabulous @ravennaortiz @just-a-throw-away @yousigned-upforthis

LakeTahoe!Series:

Part One: Black Bear Lodge - Your life changes when you meet Manny at Black Bear Lodge.

Part Two: Something Special (NSFW) - Manny gives you a night like no other.

Part Three: Goodbye - You and Manny say goodbye after spending the weekend together.

Postcards: Manny recieves a surprise in the mail.

It’s over a four-hour ride to L.A. Manny’s arranged to stay a couple of days with you before he needs to be in Santo Padre to discuss the pipeline deal with Bishop. It’s become clearer over the past few weeks that Canche has been subsidising his income with club funds. They’re missing a massive portion of cash and that means they can’t buy into the pipeline.

On the drive up he starts to think of it as a blessing in disguise because it allows him to think outside the box, to consider other options. He wants more for Yuma, he wants better, safer options for his brothers, ones that won’t result in prison or a bullet. Santo Padre has been heading that way for a while, they have links to the community, they work with legitimate businesses, their income is clean and constant. Manny wants to emulate that.

He’s exhausted by the time he makes it to your suite; he uses the key you’ve left for him down at reception. It’s a little past ten pm and the day has taken its toll on him. He’s been up since six getting Melina ready for school and dealing with club business, all he wants is to sooth his aching muscles in a red-hot bath.

The lights are dimmed when he steps inside. He removes his boots by the door before padding quietly into the bedroom. They’ve gone all out this time; he thinks as he pauses for a second surveying the view from the window. In the distance he can see the San Gabriel Mountains silhouetted against the night sky.

Everything about this room screams indulgence, the well-made luxury furniture, the dark wood floors, the gourmet snacks in the minibar. It piques his curiosity because he knows you’re getting by on a freelancer’s wage, and he can’t imagine that any magazine would put you up in a place like this, no matter how good your work is.

He finds you in the bathroom, soaking in a tub that large enough to fit another two people inside. You have a glass of whiskey in your hand, classical music serenading you from the Bluetooth speaker in the mirror. You watch as he undresses, his dark eyes fastening on yours as his clothes fall into an untidy pile at his feet. You shift forward and he slips in behind you, the water raising over his weary bones. He exhales at the sensation, sinking low. You lean back against this chest, placing the whisky glass in his hand and he sighs because as relaxed as he is right now, he can’t shake that niggling feeling that this is all to good to be true. He lips brush over your temple, his cheek coming to rest upon your hair as he says.

“I need you to tell me why we’re here tonight because I know that neither of us can afford a suite with a mountain view.”

“It’s comped.” You tell him, tilting your head up so you can meet his gaze.

“Not by your magazine.” He murmurs, his thumb ghosting along the line of your jaw. “These rooms cost nearly two grand a night.”

“No.” You whisper as his lips brush over yours. “A private collector wants to buy my photographs, they’re exhibiting at the Hive Gallery tomorrow, this trip is his way of wooing me.”

“Will you sell?” Manny asks and he feels you smile against his mouth.

“I’m donating them to Arts+Practice, they have a lot of great art programmes for kids in the foster system.” You tell him as he graces your skin with a featherlight kiss. “He thinks he has four days to chance my mind.”

He grins because you, you are just full of surprises.

“I’m sleeping with a hustler.” He murmurs before he kisses you properly.

There’s a softness in it, a tenderness that he reserves only for you. You sigh at the sensation and it’s a noise of contentment, one that he feels in the very depths of his soul because now he knows the truth he can actually relax. He tips his head back and closes his eyes, the water washing over him as the fatigue overtakes him.

“I’m tired tonight.” He tells you, his voice drowsy as your head comes to rest in the crook of his neck.

“Me too.” You mumble. “All that travelling is starting to catch up with me.”

It changes things. If this was supposed to be about sex you would have kicked him out by now or at least made a move, but you haven’t. It means you’re as comfortable with this shift as he is. This thing between you it was always more, this is just your way of acknowledging it. He knows guys who would drive almost three hundred miles for pussy but there’s not many who would do it just to spend the night sleeping next to their lover.

That’s how the evening ends, you and him curled up in a bed that costs more than your annual salary, his face buried in the curve of your throat as he holds you close.

It’s the best night’s sleep he’s had in a long time.

Love Manny? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#manny #manny x reader #manny x you #manny montana #mayans mc #manny mayans mc #manny mayans

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shiraglassman · 9 months

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Hey, I know this is kind of a dumb question, but I came across a TikTok about a month ago suggesting that dragons (the western, fire breathing, princess snatching, treasure hoarding ones) were rooted in antisemitic in the same way something like goblins are. I couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, and it kind of sent me into a tailspin, since I’ve always loved dragons (I read the WoF series ONCE and wouldn’t shut up about it for 3 years), and I was worried that I would have to drop them entirely for fear of offending someone. I can definitely see the similarities between common antisemitic tropes and dragon tropes, but I’ve always heard that the origins of the western dragon were that it was just a scalier of the devil and not meant to represent any marginalized community. However, I am not Jewish in any way, and I’m aware it’s not my place to dictate what is and isn’t harmful, so I was curious as to what you thought. (Sorry about how long this is TuT)

I held on to this ask for a few weeks to try to make sure my response made sense, so here goes. Disclaimer that I'm just one Jewish woman who loves dragons, and I claim no expertise or position of authority. I can't guarantee that someone won't look at your special interests and judge you unfairly. I also can't guarantee that you'll be hyperaware enough and careful enough to catch dogwhistles if they're subtle, compared with ordinary fictional dragons. What I can guarantee is that your average Jewish person is not going to assume you are more unsafe to be around than other unknown gentiles just because you like dragons, but fandom spaces and Tumblr spaces sometimes represent a skewed or specific cross-section of the population and may react differently. I can't make any of those calls. I don't want to tell you to start tuning out marginalized people when we speak about our issues including bad representation, but I also don't think "every Western dragon" is a problem the same way the entire perception of Halloween witches is, for example. For "some reason" (antisemitism) we've decided that big hooked noses are a thing you strap to your face to fake being a witch, or the way witches look in clip art. This is an issue because it takes a simple, neutral feature that some of us have and exaggerates it to the point of looking nonhuman. "Ha ha," says the trope. "Wouldn't it be funny if this trait that these Others have was so different and so jarring in appearance that they looked as different as they truly are, from us, the In Group?"

If the same group of folks who had anxiety about us coexisting alongside them created the witch aesthetic as created the Western dragon lore, and indeed much of old-fashioned European fantasy, it's easy to see how their feelings about us an other marginalized groups (disabled people etc.) creep into the stories. HOWEVER, it's also incredibly easy for dragons to not be us. Or have anything to do with us. If you're nervous when writing your own stories that someone is going to mistake your greedy characters for Jewish-coded, try to establish that real (human or otherwise) Jewish characters coexist with the greedy dragon or whatever to show that you're not using the dragon as a subconscious Jewish reference. But if you're talking about just "can I continue to buy dragon merch from creators who draw cute art", the only thing I can tell you is that there's an intense diversity of opinion among the Jewish people and even though I'm saying it's fine and probably most people at my temple would say it's fine, I can't account for strangers on apps I don't even have. Personally, I think you're safe as long as you avoid dragon things that evoke the trope directly. And many MANY dragons don't even evoke the trope these days, because so many millennials and younger grew up adoring dragons so we launched media where dragons are good. And don't even always hoard wealth. Much of modern dragon media seems to ignore the greedy and/or hoarding tropes entirely or have replaced greed as a motivator for the collections with "this dragon has a special interest", which is cute and doesn't evoke antisemitic tropes at all. You'll probably be able to make good judgments about what does the trope and what doesn't, but for some additional help here is a post Meir and I did on @writingwithcolor, which is where we'd prefer these questions be directed (yes, I know we're closed currently but we're reopening soon.) P.S. If this was sent to my personal specifically to avoid the WWC ask box being closed, please don't — that's an amount of volunteer work I simply can't take on. But I also know that it's possible and likely that you didn't know about WWC at all, so now you do — feel free to peruse our vast archives of past posts. @im-tired1124

#jumblr #jewish #dragons #antisemitism #tropes #dog whistles #im-tired1124

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twistedwonderlandfantasies · 9 months

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(Repost)

Leona Kingscholar as Your Sugar Daddy 🦁🧡☀️💛💰

Fem!reader

Out of all the boys Leona is like the most careless one when it comes to money i mean Ruggie can testify, dude just flippantly throws his wallet around anywhere and DOES NOT care (can't relate me and the poor people gang r crying aka me and Ruggie) so i can just imagine with his attitude and rich background he would love to see u in that sexy rich shit. ok remember to drink water bye 😘 ✌️

Song- Qveen Herby Sugar Daddy

🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡

- expect random boxes of gifts at your door that Ruggie delivers (this poor guy never catches a break). Beautifully packaged with luxurious ribbons and designer gift bags. When you open it up expect to find fine jewelry (gold, diamonds, pearls, whatever) or a silk dress. Heels? Bags? You name it. The price? Don’t even ask. He wants to see you dolled up at 8, so be ready.

-Besides the gifts, if you two are out somewhere and something catches your eye, it will show up in your room later. Broke your headphones and saw a pair you liked? Boom, yours. Saw you looking at your favorite snack that was on sale, buys you like 10 bags of it.

- If you’re into teddy bears and roses, will also occasionally send those. He will take note of your favorite flowers and soft plushies and specifically send you that. Don’t forget the chocolates! He loves when you run up to him later and talk about how beautiful your bouquet is.

-just spoils you absolutely rotten at this point.

- Dinner with Leona will make you dizzy. If he wants to impress, dude will pay for the best wine at a restaurant without even looking twice at the price. And the restaurant itself has a months long waitlist to even get in, so it's PRESTIGIOUS. French wine? Italian wine? Oh you like the stuff from Spain, sure thing. And yes, the food is served by a personal chef, full course meal of foods you’ve never even seen before. He would ofc have the audacity to say if something tastes awful, meanwhile you’re trying to figure out how to even eat the plate of food in front of you that looks like a piece of ART.

- Leona enjoys the speed. He doesn’t have a nice car— he has nice cars. Newest models of whatever brand you can think of: Mercedes, Lambo’s, even a Ferrari. Loves seeing you try and drive a car that costs more than both your kidneys as your hands shake even holding the keys. “Leona…. I think my fingerprints might damage the wheel…” “don’t be ridiculous. Come on, let me see what you can do.”

- Vacations are the BEST. I’m talking Bahamas, tropics, Fiji, cruise ships and private plane rides to some island that their family literally OWNS. Need a vacation outfit? Shopping spree~ Leona will 100% be seeing everything you wear, including Bikinis or swimwear. Will also buy you the things he likes and convince you to wear them. If you especially love traveling he will frequently plan get-aways for just the two of you.

- If you like getting your hair or nails done, he will always pay for it. He loves seeing you take care of yourself. This includes massages, facials, whatever the hell you want. You always being in top condition makes him feel confident, especially the looks you might get from others where he can then grab you by the waist and let them know this fine piece of work is his.

💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛

NSFW

- He enjoys a personal show. I'm talking about throwing bills at you for a lap dance, pole dance, he’d even pay you to play with yourself while he watches. The conditions? He has to control you. If he says do something again, you do it. You finish when he tells you. He picks the lingerie, he gets to rip it off. Leona is ruthless and dominating; his gaze alone is enough to intimidate you into following his every order without question out of fear of what might happen if you disobey. If you are, however, in a bold enough mood to talk back expect no gifts that month, and a painful disciplinary session. “Sit on me like that again… mmm yes good girl. Why aren’t you shaking your ass yet? Want to get spanked again? Tsk.”

- You lost count of how many times you’ve had to give the sucky suck (IM SORRY). I think it might be Leona’s favorite activity, watching you devour his massive cock as he pulls on your hair to force you to take more until you're gagging and tears are forming at your eyes. The way your lips kiss his length, your fingers playing with him; having you literally kneel before this man in submission awakens a primal instinct that drives him feral. Payday’s usually follow in a sore jaw and cum stained face.

- He more rarely gives gifts in person, usually in exchange for something *ahem.* If it’s a particularly valuable or expensive item he wants to see your reaction and saves it for when you two are alone in company. So the things you receive directly from him usually end with a hot and steamy thank you. “Put it on, I want to see it on you while I fuck that pretty body of yours.”

#leona x reader #leona kingscholar #savannaclaw #disney twisted #twst #twst x reader #disney twst #twisted wonderland #disney twist #leona smut #twsted wonderland #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #leona x y/n

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docholligay · 5 months

Text

Souvenir

I like people, I think it would be fair to say. Not even in the way you might describe a social butterfly, or someone who is necessarily good with people,* but in the way that someone loves art. I like listening people, I like watching them, I love hearing about what strangers do with their lives, I love eavesdropping on the little bits of people’s lives that they share into the open air and I learn things, constantly, from this**.

It’s a bit of an odd trait, I guess, and maybe could even be considered nosy, to look at strangers like this, to chat up the gal on the train to Ely***and find out that she was a translator, she’d worked translating a sailing manual, and isn’t that such an interesting thing for people to do? She offered the opening door, and I walked right through it. I will all the time. Every person I meet gets added to a bank in my mind to draw from, for writing, for experiences, for simply lying awake at 3 am and mulling over in my mind****.

In an actually fairly rare bit of lacking self-reflection, I had no idea that I constantly did this--it is not a calculated act--until Dani pointed it out to me on this trip, that I often make these little connections with strangers for no reason, and that it possibly makes me a good traveler. I had never thought of this. I suppose it’s true, though, that even when I’m somewhere my grasp of the language is, shall we say, tenuous, I have a very open sort of nature that allows me to find those little points of meeting. A conversation with an employee in Cologne, trying to buy tights, and we both ended up laughing, between my bad German and her slightly better English, and many hand motions, we got it handled! It was a very positive and lovely interaction, and though I knew my German wasn’t up to it, *I* was. That’s a mindset thing.

I like being this way, I think. Not only do I have these small moments, but I also, to creep out anyone who’s ever hung out with me, sort of memorize my friends. When I’m with them, I catch myself looking so carefully at the way their hair moves, the way they phrase things, how they walk and the exact curve of their jaw. How will I call this person up in my mind, later? I have trouble paying attention to things sometimes because I can’t stop paying attention to things. I am a good mental mapper for this reason, and I mentally map people, as well. I keep them, in a way I’m not sure other people do.*****

I do catch myself wondering if they know they have lives, still, in my head? Does Sylvie from British Airways know I think about her smile from the jumpseat? Does Ian the cabdriver know I still turn over his voice in my head? Will the girl across from me on the train know how she lifted my spirits along with hers as she loved someone? Does anyone ever know the thosuand tiny gifts I receive every day of my life, simply by the decoration they bring to my world? In the novel of my life, the background has so much texture, because of all the wonder of each and every person, even the ones I don’t like, bring to it. I am so grateful for all of them.

I like people. I hope they continue bringing their gifts to me and little weirdos like me.

*I think we can all agree that sometimes I am very Not That, and that ‘smoothing things over’ is not necessarily a gift I am given (nor do I cultivate it, let’s assign blame where blame is due here) and I can be brusque and impolitic and annoyingly self-assured in any given situation where I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.

**Just today I learned that sledding is called sledging in the UK, or at the very least in the North, if this gal’s accent is anything to go by and I’m not sucking at broad identification. I know this because she was talking about having enough snow to do it with someone she clearly loves and misses very much, from the way her face lit up as she was talking to them on the phone, and the way she leaned in toward the table as she made plans to meet up for dinner. I teared up a little bit. I love the moments we see people in connection and joy, some of my favorite little experiences in the world. I still think about the day one of my friends got married and she was walking around like a little piece of popcorn in hot oil, and there was nothing ODD or MAGICAL or WHATEVER about that, except that it was the exact kind of human magic I love, where something or someone gives you such joy that you can’t help but show it. ANYWAY.

***See: Transit for a full explanation of how we all on the train ended up being, if not friends, foxhole comrades.

****Upon reading this back, it sounds very negative or like I’m suffering, but I have slept in ‘shifts’ since I was a small child, and lying awake thinking for an hour or two around 3 am doesn’t bother me at all. It gives me a lot of time to imagine Haruka in situations and whatnot.

*****Poetic as this sounds when I make it sound poetic using the power of making myself sound good writing, it might be fairly argued that my brain would be better served to spend a little less storage space on how often my friend wears a particular sweater and a little more on, oh, remembering a box I’ve been meaning to ship for MOTHERFUCKER I JUST REMEMBERED I HAVE A PRESENT I FORGOT TO GIVE DANI AND BEL IT’S IN MY FUCKING BACKPACK RIGHT NOW (see??? What I mean???)

#Doc Does Christmas

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nightghoul381 · 7 months

Text

Licht 3rd Anniversary Event

A Beast's Dream Realized by Beauty

Chapter 2

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Prince. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

I’m very sorry I don’t have screenshots for this translation until the epilogue!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Premium End | Epilogue

There are three things we can tell from Licht’s drawings.

The first is that every drawing has a big, round full moon.

The second is that there are no roses in bloom.

And the third is that he hadn’t drawn any people.

Relying on the few clues I had, I immediately headed out to town with Licht, but nothing came of it—

Fruit shop Clerk: “These are wonderful colors but I have no idea where the drawing is supposed to be.”

Grocery Store Clerk: “Miss Emma, is this some kind of riddle? Is there a hidden code or something?”

Passing Soldier: “I do patrols a lot, but I haven’t seen scenery like this… I’m sorry I can’t help you!”

Emma / Licht: “Hmm….”

Licht and I go into our favorite café and take a seat to rest our feet, tired from walking around.

Immediately after ordering our sweets, I let out a sigh.

Emma: “This is pretty tough.”

Licht: “The toughest thing is how bad my drawings are…”

Emma: “No!? I like how unique and creative your drawings are.”

Licht: “You don’t have to force yourself to like them.”

Emma: “I’m not forcing myself.”

Licht: “But it’s true that it’s not good enough to work as a clue.”

Emma: “That’s not true.”

I arranged the pictures on the table to see if there were any clues we may have overlooked.

(We went to all the places I could think of and asked the people in town.)

(Even so, the landscape drawing didn’t trigger any memories.)

Emma: “Maybe this scenery isn’t from Rhodolite.”

Licht: “We’ve searched a lot and can’t find a similar place, so I think the possibility is high.”

Emma: “That’s right. Bu what should we do when it comes to other countries…”

(It’s suddenly become even more difficult to find…)

The store clerk sets the seasonal peach tart on the table in front of me.

I hurriedly set aside the drawing and inhaled the scent to my heart’s content.

Emma: “Looks delicious…”

Licht: “You’re drooling…”

Emma: “You’re lying!?”

Licht: “It’s a lie.”

Emma: “…Licht.”

Licht: “I just wanted to see your cute reaction.”

Licht cut into the tart, putting a slice onto a plate and handing it to me.

After I took the plate and thanked him, he started cutting his own portion of the tart.

Licht: “I want to keep your current cuteness in a picture.”

Emma: “…If you say that, I’ll have to get revenge okay?”

The tart that Licht had cut into pieces had the most delicious parts.

While he had a somewhat melancholy air when he dug up the box, Licht was now smiling.

(Licht’s smile is a national treasure no matter when I see it.)

(…national treasure…)

Emma: “Ah!”

Licht: “What?”

Emma: “I have a good idea.”

(With this you might be able to find scenery from other countries!)

After savoring the seasonal tart slowly, we convinced the staff to package the rest for us to take home.

I took Licht’s hand and headed to a certain place.

Sariel: “You want to see inside the treasury?”

Emma: “Yes.”

I had approached the subject while offering tea and a lightly sweetened cake to Sariel while he took a break.

It was only natural that I got a questioning response.

Emma: “Rhodolite is the land of art and roses, so there are many works of art in the court, right?”

Emma: “I want to see paintings by artists from all over the continent.”

Licht: “… I see.”

Licht: “If there’s a similar painting in the court that would definitely be a clue.”

Emma: “Right?”

Sariel: “Are you looking for something? I’m not sure you’ll find it, but it’s fine for you to look in the treasury.”

Emma: “Eh…it’s okay?”

Sariel: “Why are you surprised?”

Emma: “Well the treasury is such an important place that it’s heavily guarded, so I didn’t think it would be possible to get permission so easily…”

Sariel: “Is it really that strange? You are Price Licht’s fiancée.”

Sariel: “You have the right to freely browse the treasury. Here you go.”

Sariel takes out a key from the desk drawer and drops it into my hand.

Emma: “Thank you—”

Sariel: “However, as you said earlier, it houses important cultural property that is under security.”

Sariel: “Don’t play hide and seek in the treasury and break the artwork like Prince Licht did in the past.”

Licht: “…don’t bring that up, Sariel.”

(That really happened?)

Emma: “I understand, I’ll keep my head up!”

The treasury of Castle Rhodolite was even more expansive than the dance hall.

(Even so, it feels cramped because there are so many things.)

As befits the name of the land of art and roses, countless works of art were stored in the treasury.

I froze… if I should fall, I would crash right into the ceramic vase displayed in front of me.

Licht: “You’re too cautious.”

Emma: “Aren’t you nervous, Licht?”

Licht: “Not really? Guess I don’t understand the value of art.”

Licht: “You are far more valuable to me than the national treasures here.”

Emma: “Ah, thank you…?”

(…Licht’s words are always so sweet and make me smile.)

Licht: “There are a considerable number of paintings alone.”

Emma: “Yeah, it’s rewarding to have this many!”

Licht: “Too excited.”

Licht: “…that kind of thing is cute though.”

Licht casually presses his lips against my forehead and immediately begins to remove the cloth from a nearby painting.

(The treasury…. it’s really warm.)

After hours of quiet work—

Emma: “I might have found it.”

Removing the cloths that were hanging on painting after painting…

That’s when I found one picture that stopped my hand.

The painting was a delicate depiction of a foreign dancer.

The dancer is beautiful, and takes your breath away in admiration.

But what caught my attention was the scenery behind her.

Licht: “Which one?”

Licht came closer to the sound of my voice.

The two of us stared intently at the painting like appraisers.

Emma: “Look. First, here’s the beautiful full moon, right? Then there’s the stage where the dancers are dancing.”

Emma: “The jumbled masses in your drawings look just like that, and most importantly, this…”

I compared one of Licht’s drawings with the painting in question.

In the picture that Licht drew when he was young, there are parts that were colored with yellow and green.

On the other hand, the painting depicts a beautiful sandy landscape that is almost transparent and green plants that are not seen around here.

(I don’t know if it’s really right, and it’s possible that it’s just a stretch, but…)

Emma: “The picture you drew was a desert, isn’t it?”

Licht: “…a desert…”

Licht: “That means it’s in Tanzanite, the land of divination and illusion—”

I try to recall the information while imagining a continental map in my mind.

Emma: “Tanzanite… I think that was the country neighboring Jade.”

Licht: “Yes. Tanzanite is the only country that has a desert, and it’s famous for its dancers.”

Emma: “So the person who told you the stories was talking about Tanzanite?”

Licht: “It’s very possible.”

Licht: “I heard that the country over there welcomes dancers and songstresses freely.”

Licht: “…and my mother was a songstress.”

I can hear my heart pounding heavily.

Emma: “Wait, Licht…”

Emma: “Who told you the story that made you draw this picture?”

Licht: “…”

Licht: “…my mother.”

An unfathomable shadow casts into his crimson eyes.

Licht: “This is where my mother wanted to go.”

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince translation #ikepri translation #licht klein #ikepri licht #ikepri licht klein #ikemen prince licht #ikemen prince licht klein

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elodieunderglass · 1 year

Note

I really like the idea that one of the weird lurkers of your blog (like me) just hangs around looking for inspiration to write papers about. Like I realize that's not how it probably actually went down, but 2017 to 2022 seems like a pretty reasonable lead time from reading your post to conducting the research to writing and publishing the paper.

In reference to this:

It’s amusing that the original post only got 22 notes (likes), but when I looked at it again it had 19, which I’m choosing to interpret as the authors sheepishly withdrawing their likes in order to preserve their anonymity.

I think they probably just googled the phrase “friends to lovers pathway” before using it as the title of their paper and pulled up my post, or the other alternative being that the post popped onto their timeline when they were in the early stages of manuscript prep, and it was a moment of academic serendipity. I definitely don’t think I inspired the work in any way - just the quote and title. But it’s funny to imagine being studied.

I should say that I don’t necessarily expect permission to be asked if people intend to prosper or advance their careers from my words or art. However, I do appreciate the courtesy of being told that it’s happened. So far I’ve been quoted in a published book, quoted to name an academic paper, a person is actively selling plushies and other merchandise based on a post of mine while claiming that it’s their intellectual property actually, and screenshots of my work are regularly considered hilarious enough to steal but not pay me for. (the cricket post in particular was screencapped, went viral on Twitter some years ago without reference to me, was shared around BBC journalist twitter, and hundreds of people in the media industry said things like ‘lol we should pay this person to write’ …. in the apparent ignorance of the fact that if they had asked I would probably be open to…. Being paid to write……… and all the other times my posts have broken containment to go viral on other platforms for other people, with comments about how I should be commissioned to write a book; obviously that’s a normal part of online journalism and media, and I’m not naive about it, but it’s a bit much to for these people to be enriching their platforms with screencapped content, without the OP’s knowledge let alone consent, and joking about how they should pay for it or would read a whole book about it, when they’re the only people who could actually do something about it in the nightmare media landscape.) And nobody told me about any of these examples, I always find out by trying to retrieve links to my own stuff, or by friends telling me that someone else has gone so viral with my recognisable work that it got around to them.

Anyway if you do use my stuff in your own stuff, do let me know! I’m not here to prosper, but I am here to connect, and I’m quite willing to link your paper (and write a lay summary for free), buy your book or art, make your acquaintance, promote your work, or just add it to my portfolio - because if I ever DID want to prosper from my work here, which I wouldn’t usually consider except that it is evidently peer-reviewed good-enough-for-others-to-prosper-from, all of that would be valuable and helpful for me to know.

#elodieunderglass #at gmail #I’ve always said that if I wrote a book it would be a nonfiction book called something like THE SECRET LIFE OF MOSS with a linocut cover #stacked with all the other eco-unreadables on an unwanted desk in Waterstones #next to WALKS WITH MY HAWKS and THE HIDDEN LIFE OF MOSS and BEES FROM MY HEARTHSTONE #A YEAR OF HONEY AND WALKS #THE LOST WORDS OF NATURAL WISDOM #MOSS: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY #but you never know! I’d write a book for you if you wanted one #I’m just more of a journeyman writing to assignments and prompts than someone who wants to make up plots #and I believe my CHOSEN TRAINED career SERVES SOCIETY #far better than a novel going THE BOOK OF BONKS AND BLOSES #but fuck if someone was like #the world needs a book about walking with moss that fixes their mental health somehow #I’d be like sure. not to worry. the world does need that.#I am a workhorse who does work. I will do that work.#not the twitter marketing promotion stuff but writing is work and I do it on command.#anyway this has spiralled a bit

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princessconsuela120 · 9 months

Text

Chapter Eight: Rubble to Rubble

—✧

Series masterlist

Chapter Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, cursing

Authors Note: Enjoy these next few chapters you guys🫣 shits getting real now.

Chapter art by @silvell

—✧

“Where the hell you been, Junebug?” My dad asked, getting up with concern as I walked in the door.

“Oh, I just drove to Denver to show Mark and Vanessa the ultrasound. I ended up staying a couple hours.” I explained, shrugging my shoulders as I tried to keep going upstairs, but my dad stopped me.

“A couple hours? Why are you going there in the first place?” He asked angrily, causing me to look back at him confused.

“Oh, well, they wanted to know about the stuff… And I said I'd keep them updated, so I did.”

“You could have mailed it to them. Why would you drive an hour out to East Jesus, Nowhere?” He lectured, making me even more confused.

“I just did. You know, and while Mark and I were waiting for Vanessa… We watched Ghost… And then he burned me a couple of CD's of this weird music, so…It was cool. He's kind of cool.” My dad shook his head at me.

“Juno, you can't just drop in on them like that.”

“No, it was not a big deal. He was totally cool with it.” I said to calm him down, though it didn’t work much.

“You don't understand. Mark is a married man. There are boundaries.” He explained, and I scoffed at him.

“Oh, come on. Listen, Dad. Now, you're acting like you're the one who has to go through this. Like you have to get huge and shove a baby out of your vag for someone else. What does it matter if he's married? I can have married friends.” I grabbed my car keys from my pocket, slamming them on the table infront of my dad, knocking over the jar of weed he had been putting together.

“It doesn't work that way, honey. You don't know squat about the dynamics of marriage.” He yelled back, glaring at me as he put the bids back in the jar.

“You don't know anything about me.” I snapped at him. It was safe to say I got easily defensive with my dad. He was gone for most of my life, why should I let him affect me. Well, he wasn’t home, he was still there, slowly making everything worse for Stan Shelley and I. And my mom too. I know he was trying, but it takes a lot of hard work to fix that.

“I know enough.”

“We don't even sell at the farm anymore.” I teased, making him roll his eyes.

“We don't sell anymore because you and your siblings had to be little babies about it and complain to mom! When you guys move out I’m gonna be so rich, I’m gonna buy a parakeet.” He explained, ignoring me as he focused on making his jar look good.

“Whoa, dream big.” I remarked, heading up to my room as he shouted after me.

“Oh, go fly a kite.”

—✧

IT WAS STRANGE COMING BACK TO THE BROFLOVSKI HOUSE. Kyle and I had agreed that we weren’t telling his family about the baby, there was no need to stress them out if the baby was going to someone else anyway. I missed coming here. It was right next door, it was always the house I’d look at on my way to the garage, look at with hope. Back before we understood what anything was, when I’d sit on our ‘throne’ as Stan and Kyle worked to build our elven kingdom. Kyle and I getting married in the highest point of the tree house with ring pops so that we could rule our kingdom together. It was all so innocent back then. I collected myself, taking a breath before knocking.

“Hi, Juno. What can I do for you?” Sheila Broflovski asked, smiling happily as she answered the door.

“Kyle home?” I asked, smiling back.

Kyle’s mom was possibly attractive once, but now she looks mostly like you’d expect a mom to look. I’m sure his dad was head over heels, I don’t know maybe Jersey people were his thing. I didn’t mind though, I’d always thought of Mrs Broflovski like my second mom. She would always treat me as such. Making sure I had extra sunscreen at the beach, helping me learn to ski, making cookies every time I came over.

“Hey, man. Don't concentrate so hard. I think I can smell your hair burning.” I teased, seeing Kyle leaning against his bed with his homework binder in his lap. I swore his face must’ve lit up the room when his eyes met mine, jumping from his seat as he stood to come help me walk over.

“Hey, what's up?” He said cheerfully, grabbing my arms to help me come sit down in the beanbag chair from across from where he had been sitting.

“Not much. I just wanted to come say hey. I mean, I miss, like, just hanging out with you on school nights, you know?” I said, which caused Kyle to smile even more, his face softening of it even could more than it was. He pour a few to face into his hand, plopping them in his mouth before looking back at me. Orange tic tacs are Kyle’s one and only vice. The day I got pregnant, his mouth tasted really tangy and delicious.

“Wow, you really… You really seem to be getting pregnanter these days.” He said, chuckling slightly as I laughed along.

“You know, I set up this whole private adoption. And this married couple in, like, Denver, they're gonna be the parents.”

I couldn’t explaine it really, the way his face seemed to drop the slightest bit when I mentioned that. That the fact we weren’t gonna keep it, disappointed him. I didn’t know why. We were 17, you’d assume it would hurt us more to have to keep it. But it didn’t. And I think I understand. Something that would connect the both of us forever, gone. I guess that stings.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, what are they like?” He asked, and I sighed, laying back slightly.

“Well, I mean, the guy, he's awesome. His name's Mark, and he likes old movies and he plays the guitar. We actually hung out this afternoon.” I explained, causing Kyle to look at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“Is that normal?” He asked in response, making me shrug.

“Probably not, but…Listen, I talked to my mom and dad...And they said they wouldn't narc you out to your folks...So I think we should be cool, you know?” He smiled, but it wasn’t a Kyle smile, more like the smile you give someone to get them to stop talking. More just pressing your lips together and trying to smile but you couldn’t.

“That's a relief. How pissed was Stan?” He asked, now frowning as he mentioned Stan. As much as Stan was my twin brother, he was Kyle’s best friend. I know he hadn’t spoken to him since he found out, and it stressed Kyle out to no end. He knew I had told him, he knew it would come out eventually. It just broke his heart a little to know that his best friend felt that betrayal from him.

“He was, pissed. I think now he’s just mostly afraid you’ll never talk to him again for being a dick.” I explained, chuckling slightly at the dramatics my brother showcased.

“He wasn’t a dick, he was just mad.” Kyle said, making me nod sun agreement.

“That’s what I said.”

“I just miss him, you know?” He said quietly, causing a thick silence to fill the room. It was a weird feeling, kinda like when I told him I was pregnant. It felt empty, painfully empty.

“Yeah, yeah I get that. You know, I'm gonna… Start looking like a pretty big dork soon, so…” I explained, making him chuckle.

“You always look like a dork Jo.” He interrupted, causing me to roll my eyes, shoving him teasingly as he laughed.

“Oh shush. Are um, are you still gonna think I'm cute when I'm huge?” I asked, looking up at him as a light blush covered my cheeks.

“I always think you're cute. I think you're beautiful.” He replied quickly, not even taking a moment to think about his answer. My face turned an even brighter red.

“Jeez, Kyle.” I couldn’t help the nervous laugh that left my mouth when I replied.

“Well, I do. Hey, Jo, when this is all over, we should get the group back together.”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, that would be awesome.”

I hadn’t hung out with the boys all together much since everything went down. It was awkward, I really only had been with Craig and Kenny through it all. Hell I hadn’t seen Butters in weeks.

“I mean, once Cartman goes back on his meds…” Kyle continued, making me nod. I hadn’t seen Cartman in weeks, I didn’t even know he was refusing to take his meds again.

“We're just, like, ready to rumble.” I said, and Kyle sighed, as if he were preparing himself to speak.

“And I mean, we could always get back together too. That's an option.” He looked down at the ground as if he was trying to avoid my eye contact, and I gave him a confused look.

“Were we together?” I asked, making Kyle look back up at me, nodding awkwardly.

“Yeah, we were once, you know? That time.” He explained, forming a new awkward silence between the two of us.

“What about Rebecca Cotswolds? You could totally go out with Rebecca Cotswolds.” I offered, trying to change the subject. He furrowed his eyebrows at me at the mention of the girl. She joined our school in freshman year, though we had know her since fourth grade due to the spelling bee. Even then everyone thought she was sort of strange, she didn’t communicate the same way due to being homeschooled. The entire time Cartman teased Kyle for being “in love with her” because he talked to her so much. It was Stan who found out the reason he talked to her was to learn more about girl, so he could talk more to me.

“I don't like Rebecca. She smells like soup. I mean, have you ever smelled her? And her whole house smells like soup.” Kyle explained, shaking his head with defiance. He let out a low sigh, looking down at the ground to avoid the awkward situation. I couldn’t help but feel my heart pang at the sight. This was different, it was weird.

—✧

#south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #stan marsh x sister reader

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sseastar · 1 year

Text

woke up and had a dream - and now i’m in kevin moon brainrot (despite being in sunwoo brainrot just yesterday)

crushing on kevin moon from a distance during high school BAD because he was the cute but goofy band kid with giant glasses and wavy hair who was super polite, a little introverted, but everyone loved. also, everyone was aware of how good he was with art and with kids because his sister or cousins always picked him up with their kids and everyone was gushing over how he ran over to them and picked them up or whatever.

you and him end up at the same university and your crush on him lasted even through the summer vacation. gets worse when you realize you’re in the same freshmen orientation group and when you learn that kevin’s learned how to wear contacts and something other than the same combination of open flannel shirts, graphic tees, and skinnies. you also learn that he’s remotely aware that you went to the same high school, befriends you for the rest of orientation. high fives you the next morning of orientation and that’s how you know you at least become acquaintances with him. you’re too shy to ask for his socials so after a few days of being with him, you lose sight of him for the school year (different majors).

fast forward to the next academic year and you end up in the same gen. ed. class and he plops down in the seat right next to you. you have your headphones on so you kind of just ignore the person who decided to sit next to you in a completely empty classroom until you feel someone tapping on your shoulder and you realize that omg it’s him. you make it a point that’s it’s been so long since you last talked and ask how he’s been. he says you should catch up over coffee or something bc lectures about to start so you slide your ipad over to his with a note on the lecture slides you both have open that has your number and “so we can catch up” and a smiley face. he grins, and pulls out his phone to make a new contact profile for you. when you walk out of class because you have to rush to your next one, you get a text from a new number that says “catch up tomorrow for lunch? :)”

it’s not a secret how head over heels you are for him the more you get to know each other during study sessions. at some point, study sessions turn into let’s grab dinner after this to oops it’s late, do you want me to walk you home to oh it’s good, i drive to campus - did you need a ride? you realize you don’t live too far from each other so y’all carpool now too.

kevin starts to see how much you care for him and how much he cares for you. finds you cute and y’all just become really important people to each other. although you find that you’re falling in love with him more.

kevin, who knows you’re sick just from saying hi and makes it a point that you get enough sleep to get better. kevin, who finds it cute how you pack your lunch in a little lunch bag you got for free for spending so much at a bakery instead of buying lunch from the cafeteria or restaurants near campus. kevin, who regularly asks you if he can take naps in your car bc you have a really soft blanket and that one strawberry plush he won for you at an arcade that feels like the pillow equivalent of mochi.

kevin moon, who didn’t know you knew him back in high school and kept showing you photos of him from high school and who you told, “omg i would totally have a crush on high school kev back then. i totally would now too.”

kevin, who would reply with “what about me now? you don’t like me?”

you, who would stupidly put yourself by saying, “what no i still d- i mean, uh.”

kevin, who would have a shy smile from knowing your feelings and look back down at his physiology homework and just say “good to know.”

you, who would be visibly shrinking into yourself and saying, “good to know that i just outed my feelings for you?” with your head face down on your ipad.

kevin freaking moon, who has the audacity to say “i think it’s cute. besides, i’ve been starting to feel the same too,” as if you hadn’t been completely in love with him for a majority of your life. doesn’t ask you out then and there in the library but decides to ask you on a date when he asks you to park the car and rushes to your side of the car. usually you just park and wait until he gets inside safely but he forces you out of the car and takes you by your two hands as he faces you. smiles and says good night, but not before asking, “i know it’s the weekend tomorrow and you were planning to catch up on sleep, but maybe you can come over and hangout?” atp, he’s still holding your hands and like swinging them.

“only if i can take a nap here, as payment for the times you nap in my car.”

“jacob won’t mind. i definitely won’t.”

“it’s a date then.”

“goodnight yn,” kevin says and he finally drops your hands to swing his backpack over his shoulder. and you’re just watching as he starts walking towards his unit but he suddenly stops and rushes back to you. you’re in the middle of asking what’s wrong but he just swoops towards you and drops a kiss on your cheek. you’re visibly shocked and he just says “cute” before placing one on the other side before running back all giddily to his front door and shouting “drive safe!”

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maximoffcarter · 2 years

Text

Only love can hurt like this.

Pairings: Wanda x reader

Summary: What started as a normal day in y/n's favorite coffee shop, turned out to be the start of her new life.

A/n: It's been a while guys. I gotta give credit to this game called 'a new life' (I actually spent $3 to buy this to only make me cry). But I gotta say it's a beautiful story even with the alternative endings. This is angst, had to come back with angst of course, cause why not. I hope you guys enjoy. If this goes well...there might be a second part...

Warnings: covid mentioned, angst.

Moving to New York was definitely a new beginning for y/n; away from her family, studying arts, living in the dream city, everything was perfect or…everything should be perfect. But it wasn’t…why? She didn’t know, she was confused. How was it possible? If her mother knew she didn’t feel 100%, she would ask her to go back and tell her again how it wasn’t a good idea. But she was willing to accomplish her dreams, she was willing to find that happiness she was lacking. She could do it.

She was on her break from class, she felt she was about to pass out since she hadn’t eaten anything at all. She was used to it, but the longer she went without eating, the worst she felt. She finally found a table away from people, it was her favorite place to be, a small coffee place where she found the best coffee and best sandwiches, it was the reward she waited all day to have.

She was focused on her sandwich and her drawing, the people around her completely ignored, she was in her own world, just like every day. She was focused on getting the last details of her drawing that she didn’t notice a brunette standing right behind her until she heard the angelical voice.

“Is this seat taken?”

Y/n looked up and her whole world once again stopped. She probably stared at her for a little longer than intended, nodding as she smiled. “Yes. I mean- no. It’s not.”

The brunette chuckled as she sat down and looked at y/n. “I’m sorry, all tables and seats are taken.”

“No worries, I could always use some company.” Y/n chuckled. She then tilted her head as she stared at the girl. “Aren’t you…I know you from somewhere…”

“Wanda Maximoff.” Wanda smiled.

“Witchy powers?” Y/n smiled.

Wanda raised her brow. “Thought only Stark say that.”

Y/n chuckled. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “I actually think your powers are pretty cool. The most powerful of them.” She said almost quietly as she looked back down.

Wanda blushed as she looked away. “I wouldn’t say that but…thank you.” She then looked up again. “You draw?”

Y/n nodded. “I study arts. I kinda have to.” She grinned as she looked back at Wanda.

“Can I see?” Y/n smiled as she handed the iPad. Wanda gasped softly as she smiled. “This is beautiful…uh…” she looked back at y/n as she chuckled. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Y/n…y/n y/l/n.” She smiled as she extended her hand for Wanda to take.

“Nice to meet you.” Wanda smiled.

_______________

There was not a single minute where y/n didn’t think about Wanda. Hours and hours talking, completely ignoring the fact that she had missed her two last classes of the day just because she wanted to stay with that beautiful green eyed. After exchanging numbers, Wanda had left, and y/n noticed Wanda had left her wallet just beside y/n’s coffee. She didn’t know if she was happy or worried that it had happened, but the moment she got a text from Wanda the next day, she knew for sure she was happy.

Witchy: please tell me u have my wallet and I didn’t give anyone free pass of it…

y/n: oh, why? U got a thousand dollars there?

Witchy: more like $5, is it enough for something?

y/n: could def buy myself a coffee ;)

Witchy: go ahead then, all yours :)

y/n: is there a place I can meet u, so I give it back? Without the $5 of course

Witchy: ahaha what if I take with me another $5 and we meet at that coffee again? Need to try that sandwich u had

y/n: sounds just perfect. 2 pm tomorrow?

Witchy: see you then!!

And suddenly, the sandwich became Wanda’s favorite food, or maybe the girl became her favorite person ever.

The following days, Wanda would wait y/n in the same table, at the same hour. It was now a routine for both of them. It wasn’t long after everyone at the compound heard about the new mysterious girl, and they had invited her over for a party. Pietro was happy that after all, Wanda was finally able to have a genuine smile on her face.

_______________

It wasn’t Wanda’s first time in y/n’s dorm, but after weeks of knowing each other, this time it felt so much different. Her eyes couldn’t leave y/n, she kept trying to concentrate on the guitar, but it was almost impossible, but she didn’t feel too guilty about it because time to time, she noticed y/n staring at her too. Wanda smiled as she played the guitar and y/n looked up from her drawing.

“I’m bored.” Y/n sighed.

“Hello bored, I’m Wanda.” Wanda grinned.

Y/n playfully rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Wanda.” She looked at the TV that was forgotten for a moment. She had entirely forgotten what they had been watching, but now the news plays on the screen, and y/n’s heart stopped for a moment as the details of a new virus were now all over the world. She looked back at Wanda then.

“You know…there’s a rumor going around that at the end of this semester, we are going to be studying from home…” y/n looked down at her hands. “They won’t let us stay in our dorms.”

Wanda looked up. “Is it because of the virus?”

Y/n nodded. “It’s spreading fast. The scholarship helps me with school, and I’m running out of savings.”

Wanda nodded. “We will find a way for you to stay here.”

Y/n shrugged. “Maybe…” she chuckled as she looked back at her iPad.

“How’s the drawing going?”

Y/n looked up and smiled. “It’s going great.”

“Can I see?” Wanda smiled.

“I uh…um…” she cleared her throat. “I just-“

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“When it’s done.” Y/n looked at Wanda and smiled.

Wanda nodded. “Sounds perfect.” She then continued with the guitar.

Y/n stared at her for a while, putting her iPad away and sat on her bed, tilting her head. “You play beautifully.”

“It’s nothing…just…some chords I remember from YouTube. And it comes included with having powers.” Wanda chuckled.

Y/n chuckled. “Right.” She sighed happily as she stared at her. “Wanda…”

“Yeah?” Wanda looked at her.

Y/n chewed on her lip nervously. “Can I kiss you?”

Wanda smiled widely, putting down the guitar carefully. “Yes.”

Y/n smiled as she stood up and walked to Wanda. She sat down beside her on the couch, she placed her hands carefully on Wanda’s neck and brought her closer to her, finally connecting their lips together. Both girls smiled softly, chuckling as the smile stopped them from kissing, but they weren’t even mad about it, not being able to help it. Wanda pulled her closer until y/n was on her lap, Wanda wrapping her arms around her waist and hugging her tightly as she kissed her.

“Is this even real?” Y/n asked against Wanda’s lips, her hands running through Wanda’s hair.

Wanda nodded. “I believe so.” She chuckled. “Is it…too soon to ask you to move in…with me? To the compound?”

Y/n furrowed her brows. “You mean-“

“I-I just…like…not to my room of c-course. I can…ask Stark to give you a room and then you can just-“

“I like the sound of that.” Y/n smiled. “Room or not, I think I’d still go to you every night if it means I’ll have you close to me.”

Wanda giggled. “Yes. I want that.” She pecked her lips softly. “I’ll talk to them today.”

Y/n smiled. “Thank you.”

_______________

Two whole months went by since the pandemic had started officially, it seemed like the whole world, the whole universe had stopped. Everything had been calm inside the compound, the whole routine had changed for them, but they had to admit it was good to not have to fight aliens, or crazy people every single day. Everyone seemed to be safe for now.

Wanda and y/n became much closer, making their relationship official, being together every single moment of the day -yes, even when y/n was in class, Wanda was right beside her.-. Y/n’s favorite thing to do, was watching Wanda train every day. Little by little, Wanda became more in control of her powers, and she loved watching that smile of proudness in Wanda.

But things were still happening in the outside world. She was even more stressed than she was before, she knew no one was immortal here, she had come to care about everyone who had decided to stay here. But mostly, she was scared to lose Wanda; she had come to find that her lack of happiness, was that she was alone in the big city, and the moment she met Wanda, she finally felt complete.

Wanda stretched as she finished her routine, turning her head to find y/n staring at her and then putting her focus back on her notebook. Wanda smiled as she found it cute, how she was always around Wanda and her journal went everywhere with her. She had found it funny how she had met her with an iPad, and she was now carrying a notebook around. Wanda slowly made her way to her, not even making the effort to be quiet as she noticed y/n had all her attention on the notebook.

“Detka…can I ask why you always have that around you?” Wanda grinned as she knelt in front of y/n.

Y/n looked up at Wanda and blushed. “Well…it’s my journal.” She laughed nervously. “I just…feel better having it with me.”

Wanda nodded. “That’s cute.” She smiled as she leaned in to kiss her forehead. “C’mon. I need to take a shower.” She stood up and proceeded to help y/n.

“Yes, you need it.” Y/n laughed as she wrapped her arm around Wanda’s waist.

“Mean.” Wanda chuckled as they started walking to the door. “Why you always sit on the floor?”

“It’s cold and comfy.” Y/n looked at Wanda as she smiled.

_______________

Y/n had been laying in the same position for the last few hours. She looked at Wanda and smiled, she looked so in peace and her breathing was the only thing that helped y/n stay calm and not panic. Her mind was filled with many thoughts, she had been trying to sleep but an impossible headache had taken over her, and it was impossible to even move.

She felt Wanda moving, which made her look up at Wanda again, smile forming on her lips. “Are you awake?” Y/n whispered softly.

“Yeah…I can feel someone staring at me and her thoughts are a little louder.” Wanda smiled as she opened her eyes and looked down at y/n. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Y/n looked away as she laid her head on Wanda’s chest again. “I think the whole pandemic caused me anxiety.”

“It’s understandable. It’s a scary world.” Wanda played with y/n’s hair as she kissed her forehead. “But I’m here to protect you.”

Y/n smiled. “I know…but I’m still afraid.”

“I know.” Wanda sighed. “How long have you been getting these headaches?”

Y/n looked up at Wanda. “I- not for long. I think it’s the anxiety.”

“Are you sure? I can call Bruce.”

“I’m okay.” Y/n smiled. “I just want all of this to be over.”

“It will. At some point.” Wanda smiled. “We can travel then.”

“Travel?” Y/n chuckled. “You want to travel with me?”

“Of course. We can go anywhere…we can…make more memories for your journal. Not only the boring adventures we have here.” Wanda laughed.

Y/n laughed as she shrugged. “Meeting you was a new adventure.” She smiled. “I’m just glad the world is calm and…you get to stay with me.”

Wanda nodded. “You said it yourself. I’m powerful, I can take care of myself.”

Y/n nodded. “Yes. But I want to be selfish and keep you to myself.” Y/n leaned in and kissed Wanda softly.

“You have me.” Wanda kissed her lips again. “C’mon. Let’s get some sleep.” She hugged y/n tighter as she kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

_______________

Wanda moved from her current position as she tried to find the right spot to go back asleep, but the moment she didn’t feel y/n, she opened her eyes and looked around the bed and then around the room. She sighed as she noticed a small light on their desk, and her lover sitting right there.

Wanda sat down on the bed and rubbed her eyes, she was too sleepy to walk all the way to the desk, so she stared at her for a moment trying to find the right words to say; she didn’t want an argument or anything.

“Love? What time is it?”

Y/n turned to looked at the clock as she heard Wanda’s voice. “Fuck.” She whispered softly. “4:30 am.”

“Why are you up?”

Y/n sighed as she placed her hands on her head. “I uh…have to turn in a project. For work.”

Wanda sighed as she stood up and walked to y/n. “Detka…you’ve been working with them for 3 months…is it necessary? all this stress? You need to sleep.”

“I need to finish it before tomorrow.” She then looked at the clock. “Well…in 6 hours.”

Wanda massaged y/n’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “You’re already ahead. And you need sleep. You haven’t been feeling well.”

“And you think I’m sick?”

“I’m not sure if sick but…it’s definitely not common. Your headaches, the breathing-“

“Anxiety attacks. Nothing to worry about.”

Wanda turned the chair so y/n could look at her as she raised her brow. “I worry, because I love you.”

Y/n looked up at Wanda and nodded. “I’m fine I just…I guess it is stress.”

Wanda tilted her head. “Really?”

“Well…the breathing…”

“I know. I will call Bruce.”

“Wan, I-“

“I don’t want a no for an answer. If you won’t take care of yourself, I will.”

Y/n smiled softly. “Okay.”

Wanda smiled as she kissed her forehead. “Good girl.”

_______________

“Are you saying-“

“She’s positive. We don’t have to take her to a hospital but…she needs to be in quarantine. You should get tested too.” Bruce took off his glasses and looked at Wanda. “She’s not okay. Not…delicate but…we should’ve started treatment days ago.”

“I know I just…she kept saying it was stress and anxiety, and-“ Wanda sighed as she felt tears in her eyes. “She’ll be okay, right?”

Bruce nodded. “We’ll take care of her. I’ll stay.”

Wanda nodded. “Thanks.”

Wanda closed her door and got her phone out as she walked to the bed. The room didn’t feel the same anymore, some of y/n’s things were gone now, since they had moved her to a new room. Natasha joked and said it was the lonely room starting from now, since none of the had gotten the virus. Steve was the one who went in and helped Bruce check on y/n, since they both had said they didn’t want anyone else to get it.

Wanda felt lonely and devastated, she didn’t think y/n would be able to get the virus. She was sure she had gotten it in that stupid meeting that they made obligatory, where else could she get it from? But that didn’t matter anymore, she was sick, and they were apart…

Wanda waited for y/n to answer the videocall, trying to contain her tears just by the thought of her being alone and sick. She smiled the moment y/n appeared on the screen, feeling her heart beating fast.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Hey witchy.” Y/n smiled softly. “How are you?”

Wanda chuckled as she tried to hold back her tears. “I should be asking you that.”

“I’m fine. Full of meds.” Y/n chuckled but was interrupted with coughing. “Sorry…I’ve had this cough since I was locked here.”

Wanda nodded. “I know. Bruce told me he had you with oxygen too.”

Y/n nodded. “Kinda low. I needed it. But no intubation until now. And…” she coughed. “…only a few more days.”

Wanda sniffled as she nodded. “I can’t wait.”

Y/n smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

“None of that. Forget it. You’ll be okay.” Wanda let some of her tears roll down her cheeks. She licked her lips slowly as she tried to stop the sobs. “We’ll get over this. We’ll be able to go out. Travel. So you can continue your journal.” Wanda smiled sadly.

“Yes.” Y/n smiled. “We will.”

“Have you been able to draw?”

Y/n nodded. “From my memories…yes.” She smiled. “I love you.”

Wanda furrowed her brows but smiled. “I love you more.”

“You know…” y/n stared at the screen for a moment and re-thought her words, not wanting to make Wanda sadder. “I miss your cuddles.”

Wanda giggled. “I miss hugging you and kissing you.” She smiled. “I can’t wait to do that.”

“I assume you tested negative.”

“I did. I’ll still get tested again after you finish quarantine.”

“I’m glad you didn’t get it. With that steamy contact we had a few days ago.” Y/n smirked.

Wanda laughed. “You’re an idiot.” She stared at the screen as she smiled. “My idiot.”

Y/n smiled. “Your idiot.”

_______________

“Are you sure?”

Bruce nodded. “Apparently. The doctor said after 10 days the virus was gone. Her cough is not entirely gone, but she’s no longer contagious.”

Wanda smiled. “Thank you, Bruce.”

Bruce nodded. “She’s getting a shower, but after that…all yours.” He chuckled as he walked out the room.

Wanda couldn’t help but smile even bigger at the news. She was finally going to be able to see her lover, not on a screen anymore; touch her, kiss her, hug her. She knew y/n still needed to rest, but she couldn’t be any happier. Wanda waited patiently on their room, looking at the door as her leg bounced.

The moment the door opened, Wanda jumped from the bed and into y/n’s arms, hugging her tightly. Y/n laughed as she wrapped her arms around the brunette, burying her face on Wanda’s neck. Wanda cried out of happiness as she held y/n, kissing her head, and feeling relieved.

“I missed you.” Wanda cried out.

“I missed you too.” Y/n smiled as she pulled away, gasping as she felt Wanda’s lips on hers. “Baby, I-“

“He said you’re not contagious. I just wanted to kiss you.” Wanda chuckled.

For the rest of the day, both girls stayed in their room cuddling and enjoying each other’s company, something they had been wanting for the last few days. It has been almost 2 whole years of both of them being together, and 15 days had been the longest time they had been apart from each other.

Every single night, Wanda stared at y/n and made sure she was okay. She kept checking for headaches, fever, anything. She knew she still had medicine, but she was still worried that y/n’s coughing was not gone. But she trusted Bruce…she was okay.

_______________

Another month went by, time going faster than they ever expected. Wanda had been working on a bucket list for both of them to accomplish as soon as the pandemic was over. She didn’t mean to keep y/n locked but she was truly afraid for her to go out, so she had said that if she needed to control her bosses’ minds, she would definitely do it.

It was around 3 am when Wanda felt a lot of moving on the bed. She thought she was dreaming until she felt y/n hitting the bed, she rapidly turned around and noticed y/n had a hard time breathing. Panic washed over her as she wasn’t sure what to do, she didn’t know when she had started screaming or how badly she was calling for help, but not even 10 seconds later, Steve, Bruce, Pietro, and Natasha were at the door.

Wanda tried to grab y/n but Natasha and Pietro kept pulling her back so Bruce could work on her. Wanda’s whole world stopped, she swore she could hear voices, but she didn’t understand what they were saying. She again started screaming when Steve carried y/n out of the room. She was unconscious…she was…

“Wanda…”

Wanda opened her eyes and looked around the room. It had been a nightmare? She turned to her side and found it empty, making her heart shutter. She then looked back at Pietro, and she felt her eyes getting teary.

“Where is…what happened?”

Pietro sat down beside Wanda, and he sighed. “Apparently covid affected her lungs badly. They found clots on her lungs and…they were spreading.”

“Were?” Wanda asked scared.

“There’s nothing they can do.” Pietro looked down at his hands. “She has a machine that helps her breath. Her heart can stop any moment.”

Wanda felt her soul leave her body at the words, shocking her head rapidly. “This can’t…no. Pietro-“

“Go to her, Wanda.” Pietro looked at her.

Wanda didn’t waste another second and ran out of her room. She didn’t even need him to tell her where she was…she could feel her…barely. As soon as she arrived to the room, her whole world stopped as she stared at her. Wanda sobbed softly, shocking her head. Y/n turned to the door slowly, offering a sad smile.

“Witchy…”

Wanda walked to her and sat on the chair beside her bed. “Y/n…”

“I’m so sorry. I-“ Y/n coughed. “I c-couldn’t…stay…l-longer.”

Wanda shook her head. “No…don’t apologize. We didn’t know…”

Y/n nodded. “I w-wanted to…s-stay.”

“You’re here. And I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Wanda sobbed as she held y/n’s hand. “I love you. Oh, y/n. I love you so much.” She kissed her hand repeatedly.

Y/n smiled through her tears. “I love…you m-more. Please…forgi-forgive me.”

Wanda nodded. “I do. I forgive you, you did nothing wrong. You were nothing but sweet to me, you gave me love…you were always here. I’ll always love you.”

Y/n smiled. “Me too…” She turned her head slowly and pointed to the small table. “Would…would y-you…keep it s-safe?”

Wanda turned to the small table and smiled as she saw the journal. “I promise.”

Y/n smiled. “Thank you…f-for…everything.”

Wanda laid beside y/n, carefully moving closer to her, and wrapping their hands together. She kissed her over and over, all around her face as she cried.

7 hours. It lasted 7 hours. 7 hours until her heart had stopped entirely. Wanda had stayed with her and never left her side. She didn’t want to let go. She tried to read her mind, but it was blank…she was gone. She couldn’t feel her anymore. Her lover…had left.

She seemed neutral the next day, they had prepared a small ceremony just between them, in the back of the compound. She had tried to stay calm, not saying a word, not letting anyone come close to her. When she finally had the moment to be on her own, she finally had the courage to look at y/n’s journal. She carefully and slowly opened it, smiling at the beautiful drawings. She had only seen y/n using her iPad until she found out about this journal.

She remembered she had once joked about how she had gone back to the old ways and had gotten rid of the technology; y/n had only laughed. Her heart stopped as the next pages were drawings of her; sitting, smiling, laughing, training, sleeping. But then…she got to the most beautiful part; drawings of many of their times together. Memories they had made together in all this time. They were perfect.

Wanda sobbed as she kept looking at them, finally getting to the last part, which was them on a videocall, and then them cuddling, but…it was an unfished drawing. Her heart shutter as she noticed, and then her eyes laid on a small note.

Beautiful witchy,

I wasn’t able to say this when I was with you, and I know I’ll regret it, but in case I’m not able to ever do it, I am writing this note. I love you, more than words can explain. You were that part of me that I needed to feel complete; the moment I met you, I knew you would be the reason of my smile, of my laugh, of my happiness…I knew you would be my whole world.

I am so sorry I didn’t listen to you. I am so sorry that we never got to do all the thing we said we would do. I hate the thought of leaving you, and if that’s the case, I hope you can forgive me.

I’ll be with you everywhere you go. I know you like to write, not always, but you have a pretty handwriting…so continue this journal for me. Live. Love. Don’t stop yourself from growing. The world will soon need their heroes again, and you are the most powerful, so please. Keep. Going.

You are the love of my life, and I will always be grateful for the memories, the love, and the time you gave me. It was the best part of my life. You were the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me. I love you to the moon and back.

Forever yours, your idiot.

Wanda breathed heavily as she read over and over the note. She didn’t know where or how she started running, she could hear people calling for her, but she ignored everyone. She ran through the woods, away from everyone. The journal had been the only thing she had taken with her, the only thing that mattered.

She kept running until she tripped and fall on her knees, breathing heavily. She sobbed loudly as she hugged the journal, feeling a pressure on her chest that grew each moment she cried. She finally let herself scream, a red blast surrounding her, making a big hole around her where there were once trees.

Her eyes were now red, that pressure was still inside her, but she felt tired, she was exhausted. Did she do this? Most likely, but she didn’t care. She hugged the journal tighter, sobbing.

“Crying won’t bring her back.”

Wanda slowly looked behind her, her eyes turning red the moment she saw a figure behind her. “Who are you?”

“The name’s Agatha Harkness. Nice to meet you, dear. I finally found you.” Agatha smirked as she walked to her.

“Found me?”

“There’s a lot we need to discuss, but first…” Agatha knelt in front of her. “Crying won’t do anything, hun. I have a better solution for you.” Wanda furrowed her brows. “I can teach you…and tell you all you need to know.”

Wanda tilted her head as she stared at Agatha. “I-“

“Do you want her back?” Agatha raised her brow.

Wanda nodded. “I do.”

“Then come with me. Let’s have a chat.” Agatha stood up and extended her hand to help Wanda.

Wanda looked at the journal for a moment and took a deep breathe. She looked back at Agatha and grabbed her hand, standing up slowly. She would keep going. She swore she would. Anything for her lover.

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