#is it the whole ambiance of innocence?

[somejazzinthemorning]

snapshot.

Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: overuse of pet names because i'm a romantic, masturbation, mentions of sex. not beta-d so sorry for typos or mistakes ] - Word Count: 1K

you capture a candid photo of your boyfriend sleeping. little do you know, this innocent act sparks some ideas in his mind.

(i needed to do something after i saw him in boyfriend mode taking photos of his girl. hope this is a good way to make my comeback. soon i'll post about the little break I took. love you all. hope you enjoy) 🫶🏼

The morning sun pours its golden rays through the curtains. You wake up with its gentle kiss. The warm glow envelops you, seeming to prickling your naked skin. You find yourself nestled in its embrace, entangled in a sleepy haze, locked in the limbo between dreams and wakefulness.

You sigh as you open your eyes.

The gentle glow of the light dances around you, creating a peaceful ambiance that centers on the man lying next to you. Carlos. His head rests on the pillow; hair falling in disarray over his forehead.

Owning the image before you, your eyes don’t shy away from taking in the whole scene—the slightly parted lips, the shadow of his long eyebrows, the naked chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his slow breaths. There’s a serene vulnerability about him in that morning light, a beauty that begs to be immortalized.

And you know you can’t trust your mind for that. You can’t afford to have time tarnish it.

So you shift in bed and reach for the nightstand where your phone rests, and you aim the camera at Carlos. For a second, it seems a crime to so casually steal that image of beauty and serenity with something as mundane as a touch on a screen. Beauty like that deserves more effort.

Carlos stirs slightly, a fragment of a smile playing on his lips as he mumbles, with his eyes still closed,

“What are you doing?” There’s drowsiness in his voice, laced with a hint of amusement.

“Nothing,” you whisper softly. “You just looked so pretty.”

He smirks and runs his hands over his face. “I should feel violated,” he teases, extending his hands towards you, “My turn, now.”

Handing him the phone, you watch him. His gaze shifts to you with a different glint. You’re sitting on your knees in bed, the sheets around your legs, and nothing but your hair covering your chest. Reclining in bed, he points the camera at you. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your hands, the modesty you still hold translated into something similar to a pose.

Carlos lets out a soft groan. “No, no,” he protests, “you can’t hide those from me.”

“You want a photo of my boobs?”

“Sí, to have it as a keepsake in my wallet.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes and giggle at the sight of him. The sleepy eyes. The messy hair. The ridiculously overly feminine case on your iPhone that looks absurdly small in his big hairy hands. And all of this bathed in the soft glow of morning light and the memories of last night when you loved each other to sleep... God, you feel so lucky to have found this man.

Tilting your head to the photo, a faint smile grazes your lips as your gaze lingers on him, disregarding the phone pointing at you.

“The hair,” he directs.

This time, without even noticing, you were already obeying. You sweep your hair back, leaving the strands to cascade down your back. The soft sound of the clicks locks this moment into eternity. Looking down, you see the streaks of light cutting through your chest, drawing parallel lines over your naked bosom. You pass your fingers over it. Click. You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the light. Click. Your arms stretch over your head, in a casual stretch like you've done any morning, without a camera aiming at you. Click.

When you look back at your boyfriend, he’s smirking.

A mischievous twinkle awakens in his eyes. He’s enjoying this. Probably way more than you.

You let your fingers rest over your lips. Click. And then they hover over your jawline and your neck, which is still sore and probably painted with small hickeys. Click. Patiently, they glide over the curves of your chest with a fatherly touch, a tease enough to make your skin erupt into goosebumps. Before you dare to touch yourself, you look up.

“Do you like this?” His voice cuts the silence. And God, it’s so much deeper than before. “Tell me, love. Do you like having me here… watching you?” You nod. “Go ahead then. Play with them.”

You obey his command, gently pressing your fingertips against the buds on your chest and grazing over your nipples. Without realizing it, you squeeze your legs together. Carlos probably notices it because he moves in his place. When you look up, his hand is cradling his cock over the blanket. The power of his words and the sight of his hand on his cock are enough to make your breath hitch. You intensify your touch, tracing circles around your nipples, feeling them harden under your touch. Click. Your eyes never leave him as you continue to play with yourself, knowing you're putting on a show for him. The thought sends shivers down your spine and makes you wetter than before.

His hand doesn’t move too much, almost like he’s saving himself for you. You can see the tension building in him, the way his muscles are tense and his jaw clenched. It's a game of self-control, and you both know it.

"Spread your legs," he commands in a low voice. You obey without hesitation, spreading your legs wider and giving him a full view of your body. Click. "Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth. "I want to be inside you."

The mattress shifts, and as you look in his direction, you can see him crawl towards you. His eyes are dark with desire, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your heart race. Reaching for your chest, he kisses the spot your fingers are still pinching. He circles his tongue around your hard nipple, making you shiver, as if an electric current is flowing between the both of you. You arch into his touch, wanting more.

And then his teeth graze over your chest, ever so slightly, before he bites into it, making you gasp and whimper. The combination of pleasure and pain has you gripping the sheets tightly as he continues to tease and torment your sensitive nipples.

His hot breath is fanning over your face as he looks down at you, panting and begging for more. A smirk plays on his lips, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “Such a good girl,” he praises, before leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his tongue is demanding and forceful, exploring every inch of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as you desperately try to deepen the connection.

His fingers trail down from your chest to your stomach and then lower, slipping between your legs. The other hand keeps holding the phone, registering it. You take a couple of seconds to notice it, but you’re shaking. Burning.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he growls, before abruptly pulling away from you and returning to his seat. Arousal is dripping down your thighs as you watch him recline against the headboard. “Go ahead. Touch yourself.”

The memory of his lips and teeth seem to feed your body and arousal. You’re burning. The feeling of the sun on your skin only feeds that feeling. A warm tingling spreads through your chest and down to your core. You slide your fingers down. And God, you’re truly wet. You didn’t realize how hot this little game had turned you. You push your knees further apart, which earns a satisfied groan from your boyfriend.

"Do you want a photo of that too?" he asks.

You nod eagerly, feeling the heat radiating off your body. Without losing eye contact with him, you slide your fingers down to your throbbing center, spreading your folds and teasing yourself with light touches. His eyes are dark and intense as he watches you pleasure yourself under his gaze.

"Fuck," he groans, snapping another photo of your hand between your legs. You moan at the sound of his voice. "I love watching you, baby. You look so pretty."

Carlos repositions the phone to make you be right at the center. It’s a masterpiece. Your body fits perfectly within the frame of the phone. Your skin taken by the streaks of light, golden sunshine gilding your naked body almost like blessing the pleasure you're implying on yourself. You’d later learn that you looked unreal in those photos—something pulled out of a painting, shadows and light in perfect harmony. But in that moment, you just felt needy and desperate.

"Can I move?" You ask, your voice shaking with need.

"You can do what the fuck you want, baby," Carlos replies, his eyes never leaving you as he slides out of bed. You feel a surge of confidence and power as you take his spot, spreading your legs wide.

Your fingers slide over your wet lips, teasing yourself with light touches. Carlos sits at the end of the bed, watching intently. The sunlight streaming through the window catches on your juices and they sparkle in the light.

Your eyes meet his, and he nods encouragingly. You let out a breathy moan as you start to move your fingers in circles over your clit. The pleasure builds quickly within you, and you hear Carlos let out a low growl.

You slide two fingers inside of yourself, the wetness making it easy for them to slip in. You let out a loud moan around your fingers, imagining they're Carlos' instead. The thought of him filling you up makes your walls clench around your fingers.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, but you want Carlos with you. "Carlos," you cry out his name, hoping he'll join in and take over where your fingers are currently working.

But he doesn't move from his spot at the end of the bed. He continues to watch you with dark eyes, his hand still hovering over his erection but not touching it.

You can see the longing in his gaze and it only fuels your desire further. You want him desperately, to be taken by him until all sense is lost.

You call out to him again, pleading for his presence and touch. You long for him. His hand tightens around his erection as he struggles to hold onto control. Your eyes lock with his, and he lets out a small laugh of helplessness.

"Use your words, baby," he grunts. "Tell me what you want."

"Please, come here."

"Not yet."

"Can I?... Please? Can I cum?"

"Yes. Go ahead. Give in for me."

You comply, arching your back and pushing your hips forward. Your fingers glide in and out of your body at a rapid pace, your breaths becoming shallow and erratic. Carlos' gaze never wavers from you, and the sound of his gentle moans fills the room.

Climax is imminent.

You can feel it building, a searing warmth spreading through your veins, threatening to consume you completely. You know you're on the edge, but you want to prolong this moment, revel in the pleasure of it all.

When you open your eyes, he's standing by your side. The camera is focused on your face, but his eyes? His eyes are fixed on yours. All his attention is on you.

"I'm—," you gasp, meeting his gaze, your voice barely audible. “I'm so close.”

“I know, my love,” he whispers. Click. “Let yourself go for me.”

As the words leave his lips, you feel yourself start to unravel. Your body trembles with ecstasy as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. You let out a guttural moan, your fingers still working their magic on your slick folds. It hits you like a wave, stealing your breath and lifting you higher, as you cry out his name and arch your back, almost like being pulled towards him by an invisible force. The camera continues to click as your body convulses, capturing every bit of your ecstasy, your face twisting into a mix of pain and pleasure.

As you come down from your high, you're aware of Carlos moving around the room. The bed dips slightly, and then he's beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your sweat-damp skin.

“Can you take me now?,” your voice low. “Please?”

Had this one in my mind all day so I just needed to sit down and write it down before it would vanish. I know I've been MIA, but I see all the support you keep giving me. You're all incredible. Hope you enjoyed this one silly thing. As always, all feedback is appreciated. 🫶

[shitsndgiggs]

Can you write another one for Marc bernal X Reader She is good at magic tricks like playing cards. My request is a little weird but I love magic tricks so much.

MAGIC TRICKS - MARC BERNAL

Showing Marc a magic trick

Marc Bernal x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm, cozy ambiance. We had just finished dinner, and Marc was lounging on the couch, his legs stretched out, completely relaxed.

I stood by the coffee table, shuffling a deck of cards with practiced ease, a mischievous grin on my face.

“Okay, Marc,” I said, fanning out the cards in front of him. “Pick a card, any card.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, already suspicious. “You know I’m onto you, right? I’ve seen enough of your tricks to know you’re up to something.”

I chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you think you’ve got me all figured out, huh? Let’s see about that.”

He reluctantly reached out and pulled a card from the deck, glancing at it before holding it close to his chest. “Alright, I’ve got my card. What now, oh great magician?”

I winked at him, then turned around, making a show of not peeking. “Memorize it, then place it back in the deck.”

He did as instructed, sliding the card back into the deck with a flourish. I shuffled the cards again, cutting the deck several times for good measure.

Marc watched closely, his brow furrowed in concentration, trying to catch any hint of what I was doing.

I could see the gears turning in his head, and it took all my willpower not to burst out laughing.

“Alright, Marc,” I said, holding up the deck. “Is this your card?” I pulled the top card from the deck and showed it to him.

He shook his head, a triumphant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Nope! Nice try, though.”

I feigned disappointment, then pretended to study the deck, as if searching for something. After a moment, I snapped my fingers. “Ah, I see the problem. Let me just… check your ear.”

Marc raised an eyebrow as I reached over, my hand hovering near his ear. With a quick flick of my wrist, I produced his card from behind his ear, holding it up for him to see.

His jaw dropped, and he immediately burst into laughter. “No way! How did you do that?”

I couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “A magician never reveals her secrets, remember?”

He shook his head, still chuckling. “I swear, you must be cheating somehow. You’re too good at this.”

I shrugged innocently, shuffling the cards again. “Maybe I just have a magical touch.”

Marc leaned forward, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “Or maybe you’re using some kind of sleight of hand. Come on, show me how you did it!”

I grinned, loving how invested he was in figuring out the trick. “I could show you, but where’s the fun in that?”

He threw his hands up in defeat, laughing. “Fine, keep your secrets. But one day, I’m going to figure it out.”

I leaned in, tapping the deck of cards against his chest. “Good luck with that. I’ve been practicing for years.”

Marc shook his head, still smiling. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

“Wouldn’t want to be predictable,” I replied with a wink.

As I shuffled the cards again, he watched my hands closely, still trying to catch the trick. I could see the determination in his eyes, and it made me laugh even more.

“Alright, alright,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender. “I’ll give you a hint.”

He perked up, leaning in closer. “I’m listening.”

I smiled, flipping over a card to reveal the Queen of Hearts. “The trick isn’t in the cards, Marc. It’s all about the misdirection. You’re so focused on what you think I’m doing, that you miss what’s really happening.”

Marc leaned back, processing what I’d said. Then he laughed, shaking his head. “You’re telling me I’ve been outsmarted this whole time?”

I winked. “Pretty much.”

He crossed his arms, pretending to pout. “I should have known better than to underestimate you.”

I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry, Marc. I’ll teach you some tricks of your own. But only if you promise not to use them against me.”

He grinned, pulling me down onto the couch beside him. “Deal. But don’t think I’m going to stop trying to figure out your secrets.”

I settled into his arms, resting my head on his shoulder. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[writingoddess1125]

Among the Red Lights

Zoro x FemReader

SADDNESS + ANGST

⚠️ Warnings: ⚠️ Angst, Sex Workers

Support me on Ko-Fi

Main Masterlist <<<

Amidst the vibrant chaos of the red light district, Zoro's sharp eyes scanned around for a bar not wanting to stray far from the group either- especially with Usopp so close to watch him.

The swordsman who wasn't amused at him and the crew needing to travel through the district of this particular village, however he didn't complain nor judge. Simply annoyed at it all- Mainly Sanji damn near drooling the whole time.

Glancing around, seeing if anything caught his eye he stopped mid step..

There sitting on the balcony of a Oiran was a women, he could see the red of the lanters bathing her form and how the moon haloed around her delicately painted face, he couldn't help but stare in awe. While a time in this district wasn't what he wanted, he could appreciate her. That was till more light hit her face and details began to be shown- his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to the building.

Discerned the figure that stirred both recognition and warmth in his chest. There, dressed in the exquisite garments of a Oiran, was (Y/N) – an old acquaintance from a time when dreams were still untainted by the harsh realities of life. Remembering training with her in his youth and finding her skills as elegant and graceful as a dance.

As he approached, memories of shared laughter and innocence flooded Zoro's mind, contrasting sharply with the sight before him. Usopp went to stop him, till he saw his gaze up at the women on the brothel balcony.

"(Y/N)," he called out, his voice cutting through the lively ambiance, as if a spell was being broken at his words.

Her eyes painted in kohl and red met his, revealing a mix of surprise and a tirdness that hadn't been there before, having not heard her own true name in many years.

"Roronoa-san," (Y/N) acknowledged eyes widening at him being there, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken stories. The elegant attire adorned her, yet failed to conceal her form underneath with some Beri they were ment to be easy to peel off like paper- something that made Zoro's heart feel heavy and uneasy.

A heavy silence hung between them before Zoro mustered the courage to speak, his concern evident. "Is that really you? What happened to you?"

She sighed, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips. "Yes, it's me. Life took unexpected turns, and this is where I've ended up. It's not what I envisioned either." She admitted, looking down at herself from her seat on the balcony.

Zoro's gaze remained intense as his mind raced, "You don't have to live like this. Come down, we can find a different path – a better one."

(Y/N)'s eyes, a mix of gratitude and kindness, met his. "My choices led me here, Zoro. I appreciate your care, but.. it is far too late for me, my path I walk on my own even if it's different from what we once dreamed."

"Then we can buy your freedom" He argued, anger starting to build in his chest.

"My price is too much for any one man to Buy-" She continued but Zoro glared up at her, an anger he thought he had once grown out of coming out of him.

"What can they possibly have that makes you sell yourself!- staying in this hell hole and letting all those use you! You were a great swordswoman! Not some some-!" He yelled up at her, Waving around at the brothels that surrounded him.

"Prostitute?" She finished, watching the way he winced at her words.

(Y/N) smiling down at her robes sadly, messing with the fabric of her dress for a moment. "My child Zoro.. They have my child"

Silence filled the air after that, Zoro looking to the side as the weight of her words settled on his frame.

"Your?-.. Child?"

She nodded softly at his confirming words, taking a heavy breath.

"He was sick... Sick with a illness no one could afford.. So I did everything I could to afford it. So now, this is now I pay my debt. This is but a small price, for his life"

Zoro stared at the ground he stood on. His head bowed in shame at his anger towards her-

"I understand..." Zoro said softly, looking away from her in saddness. (Y/N) giving a sad smile, before reaching around her neck to pull something from her necklace.

"Here-"

Plucking one of the last remaining fragments from a life she once desired. She tossed it down to him, his hands quick to catch it- Staring down at the small gold pendant, he recognized it well. It was the symbol of the Dojo they had grown up in, it was gifted to each of them on their 12th birthdays.

"Bring it with you Zoro... So a small peice of me may explore and experience the adventures I dreamed of with you"

The swordman nodded at her, clutching the pendant close to his chest as he stared up at her form basking in the moonlight.

"I refuse to forget you.. I'll come back one day to rescue. So we can explore this world together"

Zoro declaired as he backed away, Usopp who had witnessed it all leading the swordsman away from (Y/N) who looked up to the moon the last bit of freedom in her life as tears rolled down her painted cheeks.

"Mourn me instead.. For I truly died long ago and there is nothing left to rescue except my legacy"

[dearanakin]

Same girlie here who requested part 2 of Eddie and pregnant reader, thank you it was soooo sweet 🥹💕 Imagining a little Munson is the cutest thing ever.

I was wondering if you’d ever do first time dad Eddie talking to his infant while rocking them to sleep as he paces in their nursery? It’s Eddie’s turn on the night shift of baby feeding and he takes that time to tell the baby whatever is on his chest at the moment.

Just a thought! Thanks so much 💕💕💕💕💕💕

Hii!! You're very welcome and thank you so much for supporting me!!

This one got me in the depth of my heart, I just couldn't bear to not think of him as the greatest dad, even if he was messy sometimes!!

Warning: None, just a whole lotta fluffiness

In the nursery, a clock read 2:30 AM in soft, red digital numbers. Eddie sat in a comfortable, padded rocking chair, his eyes heavy with fatigue as he wrapped your hungry baby in his arms. The room was bathed in the faint, soft glow of a nightlight, casting gentle shadows on the walls.

His movements are slow and deliberate to avoid any sudden jolts, lifting the baby to his chest. He grabbed a small nursing bottle with breast milk, gently offering it to the baby, who immediately started suckling on it. Eddie's mind wandered as he stared into the night, his thoughts a mixture of exhaustion and profound contentment.

He thought about the challenges of parenthood, as his first time being a father, and the deep bond that was forming between him and his child during these late-night feedings. As the baby finished feeding and their little tummy felt full, Eddie carefully burped them, the gentle patting motion lulling the baby into a state of drowsiness. With great care, he repositioned the baby in his arms.

The room was dimly lit, bathed in the soft glow of a nightlight that cast a gentle, warm hue across the nursery. The air was filled with the hushed sounds of a lullaby playing softly from a nearby speaker. Eddie stood by the crib, his tired eyes reflecting the weariness of a long day, but his heart brimming with love.

In his arms, he cradled his precious baby, who was nestled snugly in a cozy, pastel-colored blanket. The baby's tiny fingers curled around one of Munson's index fingers, a sight that never failed to melt his heart.

Eddie's free hand gently supported the baby's head, ensuring it was cradled securely. As he began to sway gently back and forth, his movements synced with the rhythm of the lullaby.

The chair beneath him creaked softly, a familiar sound that had become a soothing backdrop to these late-night rituals. Eddie's voice, a soothing baritone, filled the room as he softly started a conversation with his infant.

His words were gentle and tender, a promise of love and protection. The baby's eyes, still so round and innocent, gazed up at him with a mixture of curiosity and trust. "I am so thankful your mommy trusted me with this. She's absolutely one hell of a woman for doing that".

While he still looked at the small child in his arms, he couldn't help but smile at his thoughts. The very day you called him, a nervous tone in your voice as you told him you wanted to have a conversation, made him feel nervous. He thought about all the possibilities the subject might be, making him almost sick.

"And she made sure you're going to be a Munson too, it just made me love her even more", he chuckles lightly, shaking his index finger slowly. Outside, a gentle rain began to fall, and the pitter-patter of droplets against the window added a comforting layer to the ambiance.

Eddie's lips brushed against the baby's downy head, and he breathed in the sweet, milky scent that was uniquely their own. The world beyond the nursery seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in this quiet, intimate moment.

Munson's heart swelled with love as he watched his baby's eyelids grow heavy, the tiny lashes fluttering before finally closing. With each gentle sway, the baby's breathing grew slower and deeper, a sign that sleep was approaching.

Eddie continued to rock, his movements a tender dance born of love and exhaustion. In that serene room, time seemed to stand still, and Eddie knew that he would cherish these moments forever.

As your baby drifted off to sleep, he whispered sweet nothings and promises of a bright future, knowing that he would always be there to protect and care for the precious life in his arms.

You walked in on him holding your child and you instantly smile at the scene. God, you loved watching the way he would effortlessly paces your baby. Eddie caught your glance and opened the biggest smile, using the index finger the baby is holding to wave at you in the sweetest way as possible.

You mutter the words "I love you" and he mirrors you, blowing you a gentle kiss. Before leaving the room, he made sure your baby was safe in the crib, well-fed and quietly sleeping. Munson never thought, in a million years, he would become a father that soon, without a warning. But the efforts and the promises he made you were the only support he needed to stand by you.

Every time he was there taking care of the child, he couldn't help but to imagine how the next years would follow. He was still 19, a long way ahead of him, an unexplored future he had no idea about. But those moments in the present already made him feel fulfilled.

[rarityroo]

I heard that you were in need of requests, so umm.... How about a cute date with Pomni and a fem!reader at the digital carnival? (With Pomni hoping that Caine won't ruin it in his attempts to make their date more "romantic")

A Total Roller Coaster

(Pomni x fem! Reader)

This is such a cute idea, I had such a fun time writing this. I love carnivals, sadly I have been to my local one yet but hopefully I will soon! Thank you for sending this in. Enjoy!

When you first proposed the idea Pomni looked at you like you had three heads. You suppose you understand her hesitation, a date at the digital carnival but to you, it sounded like a perfectly fine date to you.

Pomni's eyes blinked rapidly as she processed your suggestion. "A date at the carnival?" She questioned looking at you slightly confused. 'Well, I must admit, that's a rather... unconventional idea." She tilted her head slightly.

You chuckled at her reaction, reaching out to gently pat her shoulder. "Come on, Pomni, it'll be fun! We'll have the whole place to ourselves, explore the games and the rides, and maybe even win some prizes!"

Pomni hesitated for a moment, her expression flickering with uncertainty. "I guess it could be... enjoyable," she admitted reluctantly. "But what if something goes wrong?" You knew what she was alluding to. Caine. He had a tendency to intrude on any date you and Pomni had, you were sure his intention was innocent but he did more harm than good despite his intent.

You grinned reassuringly. "Don't worry, Pomni. I've already spoken to the others and they promised to try to keep Caine in check for tonight. Besides, I'm sure he'd understand the importance of privacy for a date like this"

Pomni nodded slowly, a small smile forming on her lips. "Alright then, I trust you." She reached out her hand. "Should we head to the carnival, then?" You intertwined your fingers with hers, feeling the warmth of her touch. "Absolutely," you replied, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Let's go make some memories together then." You say with a smile.

As you and Pomni strolled through the vibrant digital carnival, the neon lights casting playful hues across the landscape, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling within you. This was definitely going to be a date to remember.

However, just as you are about to step onto the virtual rollercoaster, a sudden glitch distorts the rollercoaster, hearing Caine's voice echo through the carnival's speakers. "Ahem, excuse me, but I couldn't help but notice that the ambiance here could use a bit of 'enhancement'. Allow me to fix that for you."

Before you could protest, the carnival transformed into a sappy romantic wonderland, complete with heart-shaped balloons, confetti cannons, and a cheesy soundtrack playing in the background.

Pomni jumped in surprise, her expression a mix of frustration and exasperation. "Oh god, it seems Caine couldn’t stop himself after all," she remarked with an annoyed chuckle.

You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, wrapping an arm around Pomni's waist. "Well, it may not be what we expected, but it's certainly... memorable," you quipped, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Together, despite Caine being...himself you tried to enjoy your date even though he persistently tried to mettle in your business. Exploring the carnival's attractions with laughter and smiles on your faces.

As the night drew to a close, with the digital stars painting the sky in dazzling colors, you knew that this imperfectly perfect evening would be etched into your mind forever.

With a final glance at Pomni, her eyes sparking with joy, you whispered, "Thank you for being here with me, Pomni. Even if it wasn't perfect I don't think anything could ever ruin the happiness I feel when I'm with you."

As the date ended, you and Pomni headed inside the tent you looked back at the carnival, leaving nothing but the warmth of your connection behind, you knew that your love for Pomni was as real as anything in this digital world.

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (10/22)

Chapter summary: Wanda talks to her therapist about her recent relapse; You discover something about your new girlfriend that puts a damper in your new relationship

Chapter word count: 7k | Warnings: None | Ship: Wanda x Reader, Yelena x Reader

Author's note: I hope this will dispel the rumors that Yelena is gonna cheat on R with Kate :/

Next chapter: Eleven

AO3 | Masterlist 

Taglist: @blackluthxr | @esposadejoyhuerta | @secretbackrooms | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r | @kyaraderuwez | @justyourwritter69 | @stanolsevans | @aliherreraaa | @diaryoflife

-

Ten

“I relapsed.” Wanda declares as soon as she’s finished filling out a mood questionnaire. She proceeds to recount how a seemingly innocent can of beer quickly escalated into a tequila shot, and before she knew it, she found herself buying a whole bottle for herself.

The floor of Wanda’s therapist’s clinic is covered in a plush carpet, its gentle fibers creating a muted sound as Wanda keeps grazing the heel of her shoes on it. 

“I wouldn’t label it as such just yet. I believe a more suitable term would be 'setback'. It's merely what it is - a setback. It doesn't undo all the progress you’ve made, Wanda. Just because you had one drink–"

“It wasn’t just one drink–” Wanda tries to argue. 

“One, two, ten drinks in one night, doesn’t make you an alcoholic.”

The air in the room carries a subtle hint of lavender, emanating from scented candles strategically placed on a nearby shelf. The calming scent enhances the ambiance, helping Wanda relax. 

Originally planned for the following day, Wanda insisted on meeting today, burdened by guilt over the events of last night. Unlike before, when Wanda would postpone their meeting in the hope of resolving her problems independently, she learned the difficult lesson that trying to handle everything alone can sometimes make matters worse. However, the most challenging lesson she had to learn was simply to ask for help when she needed it.

“So,” Wanda says, scratching her wrist anxiously. “Do we start from the beginning again?”

"Not necessarily," Dr. Williams, or Calliope as she prefers Wanda to call her, adjusts her reading glasses and chuckles. At the age of mid-fifties, Dr. Williams exudes a calming aura that instantly puts Wanda at ease.

"But you haven't told me what prompted you to reach for the bottle last night. Are you comfortable sharing that detail?" Calliope inquires.

Wanda nods, clearing her throat as she reaches for a pillow from the couch. Placing it on her lap, she begins to pinch it at random areas, using it as a makeshift stress ball.

She chooses her words carefully as she begins, "I saw Y/N yesterday." Discussing you in these sessions has never been easy for her, but she pushes through. "But just before that, I actually met her girlfriend."

Wanda pauses, expecting a response from Calliope, but instead, she receives an encouraging smile, urging her to continue. Taking a deep breath, Wanda opens up further.

“Her name is Yelena. She’s the sister of Y/N’s best friend, Natasha. She’s… beautiful. She seems kinda perfect for her.”

Calliope maintains her composure and asks evenly, "How does that make you feel?"

Wanda hesitates for a moment, processing the question. "About my ex-wife moving on with someone new…?" 

Calliope nods patiently.

The question hangs in the air for a minute before Wanda can gather what she truly feels about you and Yelena.

"She... Y/N deserves to be happy more than anyone else. If Yelena brings her that happiness, then..." Wanda's voice trails off as her gaze drifts away, lost in her own thoughts. She realizes that Yelena is not just a passing fling or a random person in your life. You've known her since you were kids, and she probably holds a special place in your heart. Wanda understands that you wouldn't enter into a relationship with her if it were just a rebound. Especially considering she’s your best friend's sister.

It’s a real relationship–one where you could see a future and think long term.

And despite Wanda's months of anticipation and worry about being replaced, nothing could prepare her for the intense pain of it actually happening. Tears start welling up in the corners of her eyes, which ironically surprises Wanda considering how thoroughly dehydrated she was from last night.

“I’m asking you how you feel about it, not what you think about it.” Calliope says.

Wanly, she flashes a smile that’s devoid of joy. “What do you think?”

Calliope doesn’t indulge her rhetorical question. "You don't have to rush into feeling a certain way," she assures her, her voice gentle yet resolute. "Allow yourself the time and space to navigate these emotions.”

Wanda falls silent at that, avoiding direct eye contact with her therapist.

"Wanda?" Calliope's voice gently prods her.

After a few moments, Wanda finally looks up, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Calliope has seen enough of Wanda under different types of emotions to take a good guess of what would happen in the next few minutes. A box of tissue sits somewhere in her office, but she doesn’t retrieve them just yet, creating a space where Wanda can freely express herself without any external expectations or assumptions.

“It ripped me apart,” Wanda confesses, her voice trembling. "Seeing her up close, wearing Y/N's clothes, I couldn't help but think, 'that used to be me'. I had my own memories with that exact same shirt." she says, bursting into a teary laugh by the end of her sentence.

Calliope drops her gaze, giving her patient a little room to express herself without feeling scrutinized.

Wanda swallows dryly, taking a moment to compose herself before continuing. "I wasn't exactly surprised," she admits with a hint of resignation. "Deep down, I knew there could be someone special in Y/N's life, but–I guess you could say I was in denial. I fooled myself into believing that if I never met her, I could pretend that I still had a place in Y/N’s heart, and that–that I had a chance of winning it back."

Wanda pauses, grateful that she’s able to hold back her tears so far. “It felt like… like I was being splashed with a bucket of ice water. I was forced to come to terms–again–that she’s no longer my wife, and the possibility that she could be someone else’s…literally stood in front of me.” she says.

Wanda appreciates that Calliope isn't the type of therapist who takes notes during their sessions. The thought of someone immediately jotting down what she says would send her anxiety skyrocketing. It would consume her with thoughts of what could have been written about her. Instead, Calliope simply nods her head, but she’s made it clear from the beginning that this gesture is not necessarily an agreement with what Wanda is saying, but rather a way to show that she is being fully and attentively heard.

"I can only imagine how painful and challenging it must have been for you," Calliope empathizes, clasping her hands together on her lap. "To be confronted with the harsh reality, without any inkling or preparation, it can be incredibly jarring and overwhelming. But you've taken an important step by acknowledging and sharing your feelings."

Wanda weakly nods, appreciating the sentiment.

“With that said, you had a normal reaction to it. But we must work on how you deal with that reaction–and by that I mean the drinking,” Calliope lightly reprimands with a smile, making Wanda let out a brief, self-deprecating laugh. “Another thing for you to reflect on is what it means for you. It’s not very productive to think about what moving on to a new relationship means for Y/N. You can’t keep guessing if it means she’s already moved on from your previous marriage or that she no longer has any lingering feelings for you. Those questions are meant for herself, not you. So, have you had some time to think about it?”

Wanda shakes her head no.

“That’s okay. Now that you’ve experienced your initial reaction on the matter, you can re-evaluate it some time later this week–if it’s what you actually feel,” she advises. “Time can be our ally in gaining clarity and rationality. Often, our judgment is clouded when the fog of emotions hasn't dissipated. So, make use of time wisely to make better decisions in the future."

“I wish I could just have you around all the time to remind me of that.” Wanda jokes lightly, feeling some of the burden on her chest lift.

"You don't need me, or anyone else for that matter, to monitor your every thought and decision, Wanda," Calliope says. “Have faith in yourself. You are more than capable of making the right choices. Always remember that.”

“I’ll try,” Wanda says.

Calliope nods, and then moves on to other topics for the rest of the session.

Your past action doesn’t determine who you are for the rest of your life, Wanda repeats Calliope’s words to her during her first visit weeks ago.

She wonders how much longer it will take for her to truly believe it.

***

Around the same time that Wanda is seeing her therapist, you arrive at her cafe. You’re quite nervous to face Wanda this time, as both of you would be sober, and you've come to realize that your interactions can sometimes be easier when one of you isn't.

The air is filled with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee, intermingled with the subtle scent of freshly baked pastries.  The sound of acoustic Indie music–no doubt one of Wanda’s playlists–fills the cozy space, creating a soothing backdrop for conversations and quiet reflection. There are two customers dining in, too enthralled with each other to notice you or anyone in the room. 

In the past few weeks, you haven't set foot inside a coffee shop. Yelena has been responsible for preparing your morning coffee each day, while you handle breakfast duties, having discovered early on that she struggles to operate any sort of small kitchen appliance, even something as simple as a toaster. Furthermore, your work obligations have kept you firmly stationed at your desk, requiring your undivided focus. 

You’re equally relieved and disappointed to see Agatha Harkness behind the open kitchen, eyeing you with a unique interest. A new face catches your attention at the register, a friendly-looking high school kid. Curiosity piques within you, wondering about his identity and his relationship with Wanda.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Agatha says with an indiscernible grin, emerging from the staff-only section to greet you. "We didn't get to catch up last time." 

You can't help but recall the timing of your last visit and the unspeakable things you did with Wanda then. The memory flushes your cheeks with embarrassment.

“Is Wanda around?” you ask, taking a bar stool seat near the window. 

“She had to be somewhere important, but she’ll be back soon.” Agatha replies, and moves to sit next to you, to your mild astonishment. And then, turning to the kid, Agatha yells, “I’ll take five, Peter. Will you be okay there?”

“I got this Ms. Harkness!”

“Charming boy,” Agatha remarks, sensing your curiosity. “He’s just what this cafe needs.”

“He looks too young to be employed.” you comment offhandedly.

"Don't worry, dear, it's just part-time. And in case you're wondering," Agatha says, relishing the conflicted expression on your face. "He and your ex-wife, it's strictly professional."

"I wasn't wondering about that," you reply sharply, squaring your shoulders.

"Oh, sorry, I must have misread the way you're biting your lip so hard as you shoot daggers at the poor boy."

You weren’t. Not exactly. But you admit that you were intrigued because he doesn’t look too far off Vision’s age. Despite harboring these suspicions, you make a conscious effort to keep them to yourself, fully aware of how unfair they may seem to Wanda. Agatha’s efforts to expose them, however, is putting you on the edge more than usual.

"Whatever Wanda chooses to do with her life is her choice." you say.

"Are you sure? If only you knew..." Agatha trails off, a mischievous smile on her lips. Wanda would be furious if she knew Agatha was hinting at her past hospitalization to you, but Agatha couldn't resist testing your claim of indifference towards Wanda's life and choices.

"Knew what?"

"Hm," Agatha muses, teasingly. "I really shouldn't say."

You roll your eyes, growing frustrated with the cryptic nature of the conversation. It's not a guessing game you're interested in playing.

The timing couldn't have been more perfect as the boy–Peter–approaches your table to take your order.

“Can I get your order, Ms. Y/L/N?” he asks with a politeness that you think is rare for kids to possess these days.

“You know me?” you ask, striving to maintain a gentle tone in your voice.

Peter's eyes widen as he realizes his slip-up. Wanda had mentioned your name in passing during conversations with Agatha, and he had been curious to know more about you but too shy to ask Wanda directly. It was Agatha who showed him a picture of you and shortly introduced you as Wanda's ex-wife.

“Uh, no, I don’t?” 

You laugh, endeared by his innocence. You decide to let it slide. “I’ll have a medium-sized Spanish Latte. Hot, please.”

“How about a bite to eat? We have new food items on the menu. I recommend the Reuben.” Peter suggests.

You nod with a friendly smile. “Sure, I’ll give it a try.”

He looks pleased as he taps his pen on his notepad and says, “Coming right up!”

“I like him,” you comment lightly to Agatha, watching him hum a song as he prepares your order. “He seems to be genuinely concerned about selling and pleasing the customers.”

“Originally, it was his girlfriend that Wanda hired, but she had to quit due to some personal stuff. She and Peter came to love it here, so he volunteered to take her place.” Agatha explains. “Anyway, you didn’t come here to talk about Wanda’s new staff.”

"No, I didn't," you confirm, maintaining a nonchalant expression, not willing to provide any additional information. 

“Have you been dating?” Agatha blurts out all of a sudden. 

“That’s really none of your business.” you say as non-offensively as you could.

“Since I started helping out here, Wanda and I have become close,” Agatha says. “I wasn't only being curious with my question. I believe that Wanda respecting your privacy may not be beneficial for her progress. So, if you think I’m nosy for wanting to know whether your presence in her life will be harmful, then so be it."

You consider this for a moment, feeling a small appreciation for Agatha’s loyalty to Wanda. Recognizing that Wanda has few friends in her life, having someone like Agatha who is willing to stand by her side and offer support is truly invaluable.

“Yes, I am.” you confirm, keeping a neutral expression. You're not actively attempting to hide it; it’s just not like you to announce your new relationship to everyone you’re acquainted with.

"Thank you for being honest," Agatha’s gratitude comes across with a smidge of condescension. "However, if you truly cared about Wanda, I believe it would be best for you to distance yourself from her."

The insinuation that you never cared infuriates you, as you feel the situation has been twisted just because you’ve been trying to move on with someone else.

“I’m just here to ask about Sparky,” you say, hating that you feel the need to explain.

"Your eyes tell a different story," Agatha retorts, her words dripping with misplaced superiority. Few things are more aggravating than someone who presumes to know you completely. It's one of the many reasons why you never warmed up to her.

With a dismissive scoff, you pivot in your chair, fully turning to face Agatha. 

“Even if they do, it’s still none of your business.” you remind her.

Agatha's smile carries a subtle implication, suggesting that she knows something you don’t; that if you do, you’d have a different opinion altogether.

“I don’t like these games, Agatha,” you say. “If there’s something you want to say to me–”

“Sorry, Y/N. As much as I want to see the look on your face when you find out what you did, it’s not my story to tell.” 

You recall leaving the back room and discovering Agatha only a few feet away, observing your actions the last time you were here. It's clear that she had an inkling of what you and Wanda were doing in that tiny room. If they were indeed friends, then as Wanda’s friend, you could understand why she’s being so catty with you at this moment.

Your lips part, deliberating over what to say, until you finally manage to voice what you believe Agatha most likely wants to hear.

"There’s no excuse for how I treated Wanda that week,” you speak slowly, meaning every word. “I’m not here to gain your trust or anything, but I’m not here to hurt Wanda. We’ve both been hurt enough, as you know.”

For a prolonged moment, Agatha looks at you with an unreadable expression, before shaking her head sadly as if she had hoped to hear a different response or perhaps something more substantial.

"No, dear, that's not it," she responds a while later. Her gaze is briefly drawn to someone in the street, prompting her to retreat to the kitchen. However, before leaving, she hints at a game of Hot and Cold and then cryptically utters, "But you're getting warmer."

You follow where her eyes had been and spot the familiar sight of Wanda, making her way towards the cafe. She’s wearing a chunky knit sweater in warm earth tones paired with slim-fitting jeans in a deep indigo hue, presenting a casual yet put-together appearance. Her face appears refreshed and free from the visible traces of the previous night's arduous struggles. 

It’s around this time that your heart decides to resume its loud thumping in your chest. In contrast to the previous day, both of you now stand on equal ground, and you keenly feel the burden of how you both left things, looming over your head.

As soon as she steps into the café, your name hesitantly escapes from her lips. She looks unsure and somewhat guarded in your presence, and while it doesn’t–shouldn’t–personally upset you, you can’t help but feel guilty if you’re causing her discomfort.

“Wanda,” you give her a little wave, flashing her a small smile that nonetheless reaches your eyes. Her eyes seem to light up in response, and she mirrors your smile with one of her own that’s equal parts civil and nostalgic.

"What brings you here?" she asks, settling into the seat that Agatha previously occupied. "When you mentioned that we would talk, I didn't expect it to happen so soon. I mean, not that I... the last time you said 'we'll talk,' it never..." Her voice trails off, and she winces, realizing she's unintentionally delving into the past. It's something she's been actively avoiding, as unearthing those details has only intensified the resentment she discovered she also held towards you. 

Calliope worked with her on the turbulent feelings of abandonment she went through when you walked out of her apartment–and her life for that matter–that night, despite giving you repeatedly what she thought you wanted. In the end, she managed to reevaluate things and adopt a new perspective, for which she felt immense gratitude towards you for having the courage to walk away when she couldn't. If the tumultuous situation had gone longer, she couldn't help but wonder if her overdose would have been even more severe, and if she’d still be living and breathing and having this normal conversation with you today.

“I’m usually very busy on weekdays. This is the only spare time I have. Not to mention house chores and, well, catching up with life in general.” you reason. “And the matter concerning Sparky seemed urgent and alarming.”

Wanda nods and looks at her watch which she always wears on her right wrist. “I’ve got thirty minutes.” she says.

"Great," you reply, concealing your amusement at the fact that Wanda has you on a tight schedule. She appears to have transformed into an entirely different person compared to the Wanda you encountered last night and more than two months ago.

Just then, Peter arrives with your order, and Wanda gives you some space to eat first. You try not to rush into getting a bite of your Reuben, but you suppose the clock is ticking. It’s good–just how you remember it when Wanda makes it in your own kitchen. 

"Is Sparky going to be alright? Where did you take him?" you inquire, licking the sauce residue off your lips, missing a spot. You miss the way Wanda unwittingly follows the movement of your tongue before refocusing her attention on another part of your face. 

"I brought him to a clinic near my place. It's just a short walk away, so it's convenient for me to check on him," Wanda explains, pushing a box of napkins towards you and pointing out a spot on your chin. Uttering a shy thank you, you gently wipe the area with a napkin. “His doctor called me this morning. She thinks Sparky could go home today.”

“That’s a relief,” you mutter, taking a sip of your latte. “Should I accompany you later when they discharge him?”

Wanda is taken aback by the offer, her heart leaping with excitement, despite her efforts to maintain control and composure when it comes to you.

"Uh, sure. I think Sparky would benefit from seeing you. The doctor said that seeing their owner does help make them feel better." Wanda replies.

“Oh, I thought he’s recovered since he’s going home?”

“His medications will continue at home. They actually already sent me a long list of it.” she says.

“I can buy them. You've probably already spent a lot on his hospitalization.”

"I really appreciate your willingness to help," Wanda says, her fingers fidgeting with her necklace. She used to habitually fiddle with the wedding band on her left finger, and now she finds herself instinctively touching the necklace, even though the ring has been relocated to her chest. It has become a symbol of comfort for Wanda when she feels the need to quell her anxiety; and right now, she's anxious about not wanting to come across as dismissive of your efforts. She doesn't want to burden you with a responsibility that you may not want to share.

“But?” you prod gently, sensing her hesitation.

"I only wanted to inform you about his condition, just in case it took a turn for the worse," Wanda clarifies. “I didn’t mean for you to feel obliged to share the responsibility. I just thought… If our roles were reversed, I would want to know if a dog, who’s been a part of my family, is not doing so well.”

You contemplate this for a moment, and then let out a sad chuckle. "I've been such an asshole to him, haven't I?"

“Y/N, that’s not what I was implying–”

“It’s okay,” you tell her softly, staring at your half-eaten sandwich. Honestly, you’ve lost your appetite a while ago. “You’re right… I abandoned him. You don’t do that to your family.”

Wanda sighs and carefully says, “Sparky might not understand human language, but I'd like to believe he senses it somehow–that if circumstances were different and it didn't jeopardize your own well-being, you wouldn't just abandon him.”

A strong desire wells up within her to reach out and hold your hand, but she restrains herself, recognizing that it may be too soon. Given the shared history between the two of you when it comes to physical touch, especially now that you're in a relationship with Yelena, she considers that it might be best to refrain from such altogether.

"Thank you," you whisper softly. "I still think I’m an asshole, but thank you for saying that and taking good care of him.”

Wanda’s smile is soft, feeling the sincerity behind your words. “You’re welcome,” she says.

Checking the clock hanging on the wall behind the counter, you still have Wanda for a couple of minutes.

“Listen, about what happened last night–” you start, but Wanda hastily cuts you off with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, about that... I can't apologize enough for causing you trouble. It was also bad luck that he was there, and I didn’t know what he was doing until you arrived. He shouldn’t have called you,” Wanda says, drumming her fingers on the surface of the table, eager to escape this topic. 

“… And I shouldn’t have been drinking so much either.” Wanda finishes sheepishly.

“Why were you though?” You remember Wanda saying something happened last night. Very briefly, your eyes shift to Agatha, who looks back at you expectantly. 

Wanda lowers her head in response; her feelings for you aren't up for discussion.

“I ran into some friends from the gallery and things just got out of hand.” Wanda says, praying that you don’t follow up with more questions knowing how easily you’ll be able to find loopholes in her faux story.

“And they just left you there?”

Wanda curses inwardly, her mind racing to address the detail you brought up. "They had to leave early, but I actually enjoyed having some time to myself," she responds, attempting to downplay any significance behind being alone.

“I see,” you say, and Wanda can clearly tell you’re not buying it. But to her relief, you let it go. 

“Wanda, did something happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, not with Agatha lurking in your peripheral vision.

Wanda blinks at you and says, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Wanda, we–” you begin, attempting to broach the subject of the week where you lost sight of who you were. However, as your mind brushes against the memory of Wanda, vulnerable and pleading with you to stay while naked on the floor, the words get stuck in your throat, causing a nauseating sensation to rise from the pit of your stomach. “I treated you very horribly all those weeks ago–”

“I don’t hold it against you,” Wanda whispers, feeling the remnants of shame from being an active participant in that due to her own selfishness. "And you did the right thing by walking away." Wanda’s words are laced with an unspoken sentiment. 

Though she hesitates to verbalize the thought of you leaving her, it lingers in the air between you both, a painful reminder of the consequences of her decisions. Every stupid, little thing she did has led to this, and being in therapy helped. For Wanda, her regrets are slowly being replaced with opportunities to rebuild herself on. 

“So, when I left that night, nothing happened? Agatha mentioned that something–”

“She said what?” Wanda narrows her eyes. She hopes it isn’t about that night when she had to get her stomach pumped at a public hospital, as a result of her despair for not being able to keep you from leaving.  She made Agatha swear never to reveal that information to you.

“She didn’t exactly divulge anything to me,” you say. “But she said I should hear it from you.”

Wanda makes a mental note to discuss it with Agatha later, but for now, her focus is on steering you away from any knowledge of what happened that night.

But before Wanda can come up with something to convince you that nothing significant happened, the familiar sound of your ringtone erupts from your pocket, disrupting the moment.

“Excuse me,” you mumble and Wanda nods, checking the time again on her wrist. “I have to arrange some stocks anyway.” she tells you, taking the chance to excuse herself too. 

“I’m on my way home,” you say as soon as you pick up after stepping outside the cafe.

“Would a hello kill you?” you hear Yelena’s teasing tone, making you smile on cue. 

“Hello,” you greet her the best way you can. 

“Hi,” she says right back with a giggle.

“Hellooo,” you playfully repeat.

“As much as I want to keep this going,” Yelena interjects with a huff. “I kinda have to remind you that you’re not supposed to be on your way home.”

“What? Why?” you ask, genuinely confused.

“The gala is tonight,” Yelena says, and you can tell that she’s refraining from sounding a little annoyed that you apparently forgot.

“Oh, right. I did put that in my calendar. Sorry,” you say. “But I did schedule to pick up my dress today. So, I should get going.”

“Nice save, baby.” Yelena says.

The use of the nickname catches you off guard. It’s the first time Yelena’s called you that, and you fail to respond right away, recalling the last time you affectionately used the term 'baby' with someone as your gaze involuntarily follows Wanda's movements inside the cafe.

Yelena's nervous voice breaks through your thoughts, calling your attention back to the present. "Y/N?" she calls out tentatively.

You take a moment to collect yourself before responding, assuring her, "I'm still here. Uh, I'll pick you up at five? Let's have dinner early. Food at events like these never gets served on time."

Yelena agrees to the plan, and you end the call. Returning inside, you approach Wanda to deliver the news that you won't be able to accompany her to the clinic for Sparky's discharge.

"It's not a problem," Wanda assures you. "You can see him anytime you want, just let me know beforehand–that is, if you're amenable to unblocking my number on your phone. But if you’re not–”

"Actually, I unblocked your number a while ago," you say, trying to brush off the implication that you’ve thought about her enough to take that action. Wanda, on the other hand, does her best not to dwell on it and keeps a straight face.

"Okay, well," Wanda continues, shifting gears and offering you a paper box containing three large cookies. "Thank you for coming. You can take these cookies with you."

“You didn’t have to.” you say, accepting the gift anyway. You were married to Wanda long enough to know how offended she’d be when someone refuses her gift of food. 

“You’re welcome,” Wanda says, and then turning on her heel, she goes back to the counter without another word. 

After you leave the cafe, Wanda approaches Agatha, whose expression immediately turns guilty as she notices the exasperated look on Wanda's face.

"I told you. Not a word," Wanda says sternly.

"Technically, I didn't say anything," Agatha raises her hands in defense.

Wanda narrows her eyes. "You were dropping hints, though, weren't you?"

Agatha sighs. "Wanda, don't you think this is a bad idea? You’ve been doing so well in the recent months. I just don’t want you to go through that again."

"That was an accident," Wanda responds, rubbing her temple, still feeling the effects of her heavy drinking from the previous night. "I'm not... I won't let it happen again."

"Sorry to break it to you, honey," Agatha says gently, handing Wanda a glass of water along with an ibuprofen. "But with Y/N, you're treading on thin ice."

Wanda takes the water and ibuprofen, looking at Agatha with a mix of gratitude and frustration. She knows deep down that Agatha is right, but when it comes to you, her brain rarely catches up to her heart. 

***

Held in one of New York’s most celebrated skyscrapers, the grand formal gala unfolds in an opulent venue that exudes elegance and sophistication. It’s certainly far from what you were expecting, especially since Yelena described it to you as a “little company-wide gathering”. 

"Are you ready?" you hear Yelena whisper, her voice filled with exhilaration as she takes a deep breath. You nod in reply and feel the back of your neck start to sweat.

Stepping out of the rented limousine that Yelena was so pleased to surprise you with, you're immediately greeted by a frenzy of flashing lights and clicking cameras, tempting you to seek refuge back in the vehicle. The paparazzi clamors for the perfect angle, their lenses eagerly focused on the red carpet.

The room is a visual spectacle, filled with a sea of elegant fashion and dazzling jewelry. And although this is the most grand you’ve felt in your whole life, you feel a little underdressed for the occasion. The sounds of soft classical music resonate throughout the hall, played by a live orchestra positioned on a raised stage. Clinking glasses and murmurs of conversation intermingle with the melodies, adding a delightful liveliness of an otherwise intimidating ambiance.

That’s when you feel Yelena’s warm hand slot into yours. 

“Are you okay?” she inquires quietly, and you can feel her hot breath fanning over the ridges of your ear. She’s wearing a red, backless Valentino gown that’s partly what’s making you nervous. 

You interlace your fingers together, automatically putting a smile on Yelena’s face, as you swallow dryly and reply with, “As long as you’re by my side.”

“I’m not gonna leave you”, she promises softly. “Except when they have to call me onstage.”

Your eyebrows furrow in question.

"I'm being honored," Yelena exclaims, her grin spreading across her face as she looks up at you with excitement. "Kate nominated me for the Sydney Award. It's nothing huge, they give it out every month. But, still..." Her words trail off as she notices the intensity of your gaze, and a blush creeps onto her cheeks.

"Baby, you won an award?" you blurt out, unintentionally letting the nickname she used on you earlier slip. But in this moment, your pride for Yelena fills you to the brim, and your affection for her spills over.

Yelena, rendered speechless by the endearment, could only manage a nod in response. Overwhelmed with her desire to be close to you, she takes hold of your face and presses her lips against yours, right in the midst of the crowded room. The atmosphere fades away as her focus narrows down to the connection between the two of you, surrounded by a sea of strangers donned in elegant tuxedos and exquisite gowns, their vibrant colors paling in comparison to the intensity of her feelings for you. The glitz and glamor of the event mean nothing to her in this instance. All that matters is that you're by her side, sharing in one of the proudest and most significant moments of her life.

You’re in a daze when she finally pulls away. “What was that for?” you breathe out, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

“That was me claiming my reward early.” Yelena husks out, pecking you once more for good measure. Desire coils in your belly; it takes every ounce of self-control to resist acting on the raw desire that courses through your body, knowing that the time and place aren't quite right.

Your girl still needs to get that damn award she truly deserves. 

“I’m gonna go get us some champagne.” she says. You’re not really a fan of champagne but it does seem to fit the occasion.

"Sure, I'll head over there," you gesture with your thumb towards the dessert section adorned with an assortment of cakes and pastries. “I suddenly want something sweet, and I can’t have you yet, so–”

Yelena's cheeks flush a bright shade of red, and you can't help but hope it's not just from embarrassment. Tonight, there's a possibility that you could finally take your relationship to the next level–something you’ve been preparing yourself mentally and emotionally for. You knew that Yelena was patiently waiting for you to be ready, and you understood that there's only so long you can keep her waiting before she starts doubting your feelings for her. The last thing you want is to inadvertently hurt her by not taking the next step; moreso with the recent knowledge that her love language is primarily physical touch.

“If you don’t behave I might have to pass up on that award.” Yelena teases back, biting her lip as she eyes you like one of those cakes that’s been tempting you since you spotted them.

“I wouldn’t want you to miss your moment,” you say, kissing her forehead. “Now, about that champagne?”

Yelena lets out a playful laugh and reluctantly pulls herself away from your embrace though she clearly doesn't want to. You take pleasure in watching her walk away, appreciating the elegant curve of her spine and the gentle sway of her back muscles with each graceful step she takes. 

A few minutes later, lost in your thoughts of your girlfriend as you pick out the cakes on display, you hear a voice behind you, interrupting your reverie.

“Glad to see you chose to do the right thing.” 

You look over your shoulder to find Kate Bishop, radiant in a purple trumpet gown that accentuates her curves in all the right places. She doesn't appear as vexed with you as she did during your initial meeting.

In the short time you’ve been with Yelena, you've made casual attempts to bring up Kate in conversations, but it has always remained focused on work-related topics, even after she moved in with you. You tried to ask how Kate felt about her moving out, but Yelena dismissed it, asking you a similar question when you moved out of Natasha’s. 

You're uncertain about what to feel with the fact that Yelena is aware of Kate's feelings for her. 

Scratch that. You’re not sure how you feel about Yelena not telling you that she knows.

"Kate," you say, hesitantly extending your hand towards her. "Nice to see you here."

“Y/N,” Kate accepts your hand, her grip firm yet amicable, as the two of you exchange a brief handshake. “You look good.” 

“Thanks, you too,” you say, looking down at your own dress. “Never knew I could pull off something this fancy.”

"Get used to it, this is probably not the only black-tie party you'll attend as long as you're dating her," Kate remarks, scanning the room in search of the woman she's referring to.

“She went to get drinks,” you tell her when you awkwardly find yourself just standing there while her eyes dart everywhere for a considerable moment. 

“I haven’t missed her awarding, have I?” she asks, her worry evident. And it’s uncomfortable for you to witness this person be so hopelessly in love with your girlfriend.

You shake her head, giving her a tight smile.

“I was the one who sent in her nomination, you know?” Kate says, and you can hear how proud she is of that. A part of you wishes Kate had never revealed her feelings for Yelena to you, seeing that it seems like a trivial matter to Yelena–an unrequited crush that she didn’t feel the need to disclose. You can sense that Kate isn't intentionally gushing over Yelena; she simply can't help it. It's hard to hold back when you feel so strongly for someone; it’s a feeling that’s rather familiar to you.

“Yeah, Yelena told me. Thank you for that. I’ve never seen her so happy.” you say, stuffing yourself with chocolate cake, hoping to avoid any inadvertent questioning about Kate's future plans to move on from Yelena.

"She deserves it. Especially since she's been quite tense at work," Kate continues, and it seems the topic of Yelena isn’t going to be replaced anytime soon. "I try to lighten the mood but my dad jokes aren't as effective as before."

“Dad jokes?”

Kate shrugs and then says, "Yelena's humor is either that or sarcasm." As she speaks, a twinge of insecurity starts to creep into your thoughts. You can't help but wonder if Kate, with her close connection to Yelena, knows her on a deeper level than you do.

“Well, why haven’t you done something about it yet?” Kate asks lightly with a chuckle.

"What do you mean?" you ask, wanting clarification before jumping to conclusions.

Kate lets out a snort, as if she finds it amusing that you're oblivious to what she's insinuating.

"Yelena's always like that when she hasn't, um... taken care of certain needs," Kate explains, her voice momentarily faltering before she dismisses it with a laugh. "You know, gotten some."

Your mind suddenly freezes at the implications of Kate's words, and you feel a jolt of realization.

“And how would you know that?” you say, your voice suddenly rising. “Unless you were previously helping her take care of these ‘certain needs’.”

Kate's eyes widen in surprise, and you observe her gulp nervously.

“Wow, Y/N, aren’t you quite the detective–” Kate attempts to placate you with a joke.

“Answer me,” you say. “Please. I need to know if what you two had was completely one-sided.”

“It was,” Kate insists, giving up on using humor to thread her way out of this confrontation. "I was the one who developed feelings. Yelena didn't feel the same way." She averts her gaze, wearing a pained expression.

You wanted a clearer confirmation of your suspicions. “So you were sleeping together.” you say.

“I think this is a conversation you need to have with her, not me,” Kate says. “But don’t take this out on her, please. If she didn’t tell you she probably has good reason–”

"You're right, I should talk to Yelena not you," you scoff, feeling a sense of unease creeping in. "I'll see you around, Kate."

Yelena finds you in the lounge area near the entrance of the ballroom. 

"I've been searching all over for you," she exclaims, her worry palpable in her voice.

Without lifting your gaze, you softly reply, "I'm not feeling well."

Immediately, Yelena springs into action, eager to assist you. “Oh, did something happen? Was it something you ate? I think I can ask Martin, our staff nurse, if he has something for you to–”

You interrupt her with a gentle but firm statement, "I just want to go home."

“Go home?” Yelena repeats your words, slightly taken aback. "But I haven't had the chance to go up on stage yet–"

“I’m sorry,” you say, rising from the couch. The sight of Yelena in that moment, coupled with the new information you've learned from Kate, is literally causing a wave of dizziness. 

Yelena gapes at you helplessly; she can't understand the sudden shift in your demeanor. She swears you were ready to jump on each other’s bones half an hour ago.

"Y/N!" she calls out, stopping you in your tracks. "Did I do something wrong?"

Yes, your instinct wants you to tell her, but you don't want to spoil her special night, dampen her excitement, or distract her from accepting the recognition she deserves.

"I'll see you at home," you say, mustering a smile that you hope will convince her to give you some space for now.

With that, you slip off your pumps and make your way barefoot towards the elevator in the lobby, leaving behind a puzzled Yelena.

[charlotteharlatan]

A list (non-exhaustive) of why the 1941 flashback scenes are haunting both me and The Narrative, Part 2:

(link to Part 1)

6. There are additional scenes that point to 1941. The Ritz scene from S1ep6 where they toast “to the world” also echoes the S2ep4 1941 scene, because these are the only two instances where we see Crowley and Aziraphale “cheers” to something with their drinks and then take a sip at the same time - they are also the only two instances where they both consume the same substance at the same time.

(To contrast, look at the Rome flashback from S1ep3, in which they also “cheers” but only Crowley takes a sip of his drink afterwards. In fact, if you watch the entire Rome flashback, there’s never a time when their sips synch up.

I could go off on a whole other tangent about the peculiar significance of “ingesting substances” within Good Omens and how it serves as a direct metaphor for acquiring knowledge/losing innocence, vis a vis Eve and the apple, and Aziraphale with the ox rib, but that would be adding at least a few more paragraphs.)

There’s another element that famously features in the S1ep6 Ritz scene, a piano cover of “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square.” If we operate on the assumption that we’re meant to link these two events as well, then an inference that the song also played a role that night in 1941 now seems less like a leap, and more like a logical step.

7. We also can’t leave out the context clues within the S2 1941 scene itself. I’ve already mentioned the gramophone and the wine, but there’s another element in the scene’s background that seems to be hinting at something:

The lamps. Despite the candles on the table, there are lit lamps in the background. Again, the background is out of focus, but the lamps seem to be human figures, and they appear as though they might be dancing couples. Why have these lights turned on if you have candles lit? Our attention is meant to be drawn to these light fixtures in this moment; it’s possibly more foreshadowing.

(Of course, you could also turn it the opposite way and say the audience is meant to ask: why light candles when the lamps work just fine, for which there is very little explanation other than Aziraphale was actively trying to create romantic ambiance. Which would only add to the suspicion that something more may have happened between them in 1941 that the first two seasons left out.)

8. Chronologically speaking, the next time we see Crowley and Aziraphale together after 1941 is in 1967, when Aziraphale pops in on Crowley in the Bentley. One of the most striking things about the 1967 scene is that the emotional tone has shifted rather dramatically from what it was like at the end of the S2 1941 scene.

There’s awkward tension between them; every line of dialogue carries heavy hidden meaning. The repressed longing is palpable. Crowley is subdued and cautious, and Aziraphale is avoiding Crowley’s eyes and speaking in a stilted voice.

It could just be the subject matter that’s making things awkward - the holy water had been a matter of major contention between them - but there seems to be much more to this tension. We pay a lot of attention to “you go too fast for me, Crowley,” and we should (especially given that when Aziraphale is actually able to look directly at Crowley in this scene, he keeps glancing at his mouth), but there are other bits of dialogue that are important there too.

Crowley offers to drive Aziraphale “anywhere he wants to go” and Aziraphale turns him down. But from information we received in S2, we now know that the bookshop was literally across the street. We are being implicitly told that Crowley is offering a whole lot more than just a drive home, but we are also being primed to recall the last time Crowley actually did give Aziraphale a ride home, the last time they were in the bookshop together. Every context clue is contributing to the sense that we are missing something. The 1941 scene still feels incomplete, like there’s one last installment of it, which sets the stage to revisit it in S3.

9. Returning to the 1967 scene, after Aziraphale hands over the thermos of holy water, Crowley asks whether he should say thank you. Aziraphale responds with a grimace disguised as a polite smile and a rather curt “better not.”

This contrasts to 1941, when Aziraphale attempts multiple times to express gratitude to Crowley for saving him and his books, and for coming through for him at the magic show, including that rather suggestive moment in the Bentley where he insists “there must be something I can do for you…in return.” Why is the idea of expressing gratitude so loaded and weighty, when only twenty years ago (not that long, for them) Aziraphale insisted upon it? Gratitude has always been complicated for the two of them, but now that complexity feels compounded.

It gives extra interest to the moment Aziraphale thanks Crowley for removing the paint stain from his coat in S1ep2. And of course, we know what happens just a bit later in that same episode.

The Wall Slam, which echoes The Kiss, in that Crowley is the one to close the distance between them in both cases, taking Aziraphale by the collar.

It’s interesting to note that there have also been other times when Crowley gets into Aziraphale’s personal space. In the first two minisodes in S2, there are two separate instances of Crowley getting into Aziraphale’s face after the angel accuses him of goodness.

It happens in Job’s courtyard in S2ep2…

…and in the graveyard in S2ep3 after they (well, Crowley mostly) save Elspeth.

This is another of their patterns - Aziraphale acknowledging the good in Crowley, casting doubt on his evilness in a way that gets a rise out of the demon. At first it was unintentional, but Aziraphale tries to bait Crowley in this way multiple times throughout the series, possibly as a way to get physical closeness with him that he doesn’t get otherwise. The time in Job’s courtyard wasn’t intentional, but the time in the graveyard definitely was. Just look at Aziraphale’s pleased, indulgent expression when Crowley is telling him off.

Sometimes this tactic is successful, sometimes it’s not. One could argue that the Wall Slam was an instance in which he was very successful, even more so than he bargained for.

And: he attempts the same thing multiple times in 1941. He does it immediately after the church gets bombed, in the Bentley afterwards, and during their candlelit date. Crowley doesn’t really rise to the bait though. He gets a bit snappish, he dismisses and denies, but he doesn’t get into Aziraphale’s face - and my read of this scene is that you can see Aziraphale’s frustration that it isn’t working.

Aziraphale can be very stubborn when he’s decided to do something, and if he keeps pushing this particular button of Crowley’s to get the response he’s seeking, well. It wouldn’t be the first time. I could definitely see him trying this tactic one more time if we do get a continuation of 1941 in S3, and it potentially working.

There may be a part three to this, as I have a few more related items to discuss. (Shocker, I know.)

[sk8termikey]

Chapter 2 of 21 Questions

(better interface on wattpad)

The next morning, Lily was gently woken up by Bernard the cat when he decided to sit on her neck, thus preventing her from properly breathing – this is actually far from gentle but it's her cat so everything is forgiven. When Lily started moving and went to sit up, Bernard simply moved next to her and looked at her as if he hadn't almost killed her. Those far from innocent eyes just made Lily chuckle and sigh – she and Alex were used to that happening from time to time but damn, they never missed it.

As Lily got ready to go to work, she put some music on shuffle and 21 Questions from Waterparks came on. Kind of ironic given that she was literally playing that game the evening before. Hearing this song made her think about the mysterious guy whom she texted and still had not heard from since last night. While Lily hummed to the songs that played in the background, she finished getting ready and headed to the café. 

~~~

Lily arrived at the café-bookstore one hour before opening it. She unlocked the door, letting in the first rays of daylight. With Jade and Lucas, they prepared the shop for the day as they restocked shelves and wiped down tables.

As the clock ticked towards opening time, the café started filling up with eager customers. Lily manned the espresso machine, her skilled hands expertly crafting lattes and cappuccinos. Jade served pastries with a warm smile, while Lucas organised the bookshelves, ensuring they were invitingly arranged. The bustling chatter of customers blended with the soft music playing in the background.

~~~

Later, the lunchtime crowd began to arrive, and the trio transitioned from coffee to sandwiches and salads. Lily made her famous sandwiches while Jade and Lucas took orders and made sure everyone was well-fed and content. Amid the clinking of cutlery and the hum of conversation, Lily noticed a regular customer engrossed in a book from one of the shelves, a satisfied smile on their face.

~~~

As the day wound down, the café-bookstore took on a peaceful ambiance. Customers lingered over their books and coffee, savouring the quiet escape from the world outside. Lily, Jade, and Lucas joined them, occasionally offering recommendations or discussing their latest reads.

With the setting sun casting a warm glow through the windows, the trio began to close the shop. They cleaned the espresso machine, restocked shelves, and settled the cash register. As they locked the door behind the last customer, they felt a sense of accomplishment and contentment.

~~~

After the whole day at work, Lily was happy to be back home. It was almost six o'clock when she entered the house and jokingly said:

"Hey babe, I'm home!"

"Hiii girl, how was the day?", Alex asked as she was sitting on the couch.

"It was fine, people still love my sandwiches so that’s enough for me lol", Lily replied. "How was yours?"

"Good as well, but better now that you're here", Alex smiled at her friend. "And even better because the triplets posted a new video not long ago!"

"Which triplets? I feel like you told me about them but I can't recall."

"Okay come here, we'll watch together."

As Lily went to sit beside Alex, the blonde's computer was showing a YouTube channel: Sturniolo Triplets was written on the screen.

"I'm pretty sure I've shown them to you once or twice like on Instagram but I don't think I've made you watch one of their videos. So they're triplets obviously and they are just sooo funny, you have to watch this video because I just know it's gonna be chaotic as always", Alex explained to her best friend.

Alex clicked on the most recent video on the top left of the channel. It was entitled Triplets play WHEEL OF DOOM *matt cries* and it felt really dramatic to Lily as she wasn't convinced by what she was about to watch. Lily was putting all her trust in Alex as the video started but she didn't know what to think as two people were just standing in front of the camera, one of them with a mask on.

"It seems so fucking weird and I'm already regretting this but at least the intro is cool", Lily said. "And I also need you to tell me who is who because they literally look the same."

"Well", Alex started, "that's the whole point of them being triplets lol but after a while it's so easy to differentiate them. So this one is Chris with the longer hair on the left, then in the middle it's Matt and on the right it's Nick with the white shirt."

Lily was still a bit confused because thirty seconds later, they had already changed places. She could only remember that the one in white was Nick but she was quickly giving up on trying to identify Chris and Matt. As Alex had told her, the video was extremely chaotic as Nick was chugging a pepsi which made one of the other two cry in despair. Alex was laughing so hard when Chris had to clean his brother's room and when either of the triplets was forced to have something posted on their Instagram account. Lily was just chilling and smiling while watching her best friend being so happy:

"Honestly I might have to get into them more because they have cool vibes but I'm gonna need you to help me differentiate them like as soon as they wear the same clothes, I'm gonna be so fucking lost."

"Oh my god yes!" Alex was ecstatic with the idea of Lily becoming a fan. "We'll watch the car video together when it comes out, it'll really help you because they have assigned seats."

Lily nodded to that and they kept watching the video as Chris ended up doing the two athletic punishments on the wheel. Then, as the video was nearing to the end, Matt looked like he was eating dog shit when it was only ketchup – which was delicious to the two girls.

"Okayy so," Alex turned to her best friend when the outro played. "What did you think?"

"They actually seem funny so I guess I'll watch the next video with you", Lily shrugged in response.

This made Alex's smile widen as she was getting her best friend to enjoy the same things that she does. It honestly wasn't a surprise as they were in multiple fandoms together but following the Sturniolo Triplets was something that Alex had only been doing for a few months. Therefore, she hadn't tried much to have Lily join her in this fandom, but she was definitely excited that Lily might.

"Ooh I just remembered!" Alex turned to her friend. "Was the last text you sent successful? I feel like you would have complained if it wasn't."

"Yeah oh my god I had forgotten to tell you because I didn't see you this morning". Lily had straight up gone into gossip mode as she turned to face Alex. "Okay so he actually replied pretty quickly and we had time to ask each other three questions I think, until he left me on read when I told him I was a cat person."

"What, is he serious?" Alex asked with disbelief on her face – she was a cat person as well so it felt like a personal attack. "Wait, give me your phone because I need to judge them so much right now."

Lily did as she was told and unlocked her phone for Alex to read the messages from yesterday evening. Alex looked so focused but it made Lily laugh how she would just nod her head to agree with what was happening and smile at something that was funny. As she quickly finished reading the conversation between the two strangers, Alex looked up for the phone and gave her opinion:

"Hmm so he seems nice and as you said, the vibe has been passed and his brother actually seems funnier than him lol but I'm gonna give mystery boy the benefit of the doubt. Are you planning on texting him again?"

"Honestly I don't know, maybe?" Although Lily wished to say an affirmation, it sounded more like a question. "I feel like he was just joking at the end but I don't wanna sound desperate for friends, you know?"

"Yeah, I get you," Alex agreed with the brunette. "What we should do is just ask him if he still wants to play with a cat person, which technically is fun because opposites attract!"

"Ok ok, it's not a bad idea. Just write what you said because I already forgot." Lily chuckled a bit as she gave her phone to Alex.

************

Hi stranger, our convo from yesterday was really nice so I hope you might still wanna play even tho  I'm a cat person and you're a dog person but yk what they say: opposites attract :)

Lily was very satisfied with what Alex wrote and it made her think about how supportive she always had been, ever since they met. Lily and Alex had known each other since middle school. However, Alex actually wasn’t really approachable since she didn't like the kids at the school they went to, but Lily had liked her from the very beginning. They became friends when they had needed one day to form groups for an assignment and no one had wanted either of them in their team. 

Lily had gathered all her courage and made the first move to go ask Alex if she wanted to be with her, which she had gladly accepted – Alex had always looked so cool to Lily so she had been trying to find the opportunity to be friends with her for a couple of weeks already. Alex realised that maybe, there was one kid at their school who wasn't as bad as the others and as they had started to work together, Lily had noticed how kind-hearted Alex was while Alex saw how passionate Lily could be when talking about the things she cared for. This was the friendship that both of them needed in their life. Thus, since that day, they became the best of friends and the rest is history.

Thank you for reading. Votes and comments are always appreciated if you like this story :) The story is co-written w @/little_grapejuice on wattpad

[leiascully]

Twenty Questions for Fanfic Writers

Tagged by @sunflowerseedsandscience! Thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

740, but I have a few ficlets I have yet to add.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,708,613

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Uhhhh, a lot. Here are the top 10:

The X-Files (279)

Battlestar Galactica (2003) (91)

Doctor Who (2005) (79)

House M.D. (78)

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (46) (I don't write for this anymore, but I haven't orphaned my stuff)

The West Wing (23)

Leverage (US TV 2008) (20)

The Avengers (Marvel Movies) (18) (I don't write Marvel anymore either)

Welcome to Night Vale (18)

Green Wing (15)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I'm sticking just to XF fics here:

Visitor

Baseball Metaphors

Resident

I Want To Believe (It's Not Lead Poisoning) (XF/WtNV crossover)

Ceremony of Innocence

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yep, pretty much every single one, even if it's just :). If someone takes the time to comment, I try to at least thank them. But I totally understand why other authors don't have the bandwidth. I'm also not a popular author in a juggernaut fandom getting hundreds of comments a week - I set aside a little time a few times a month if needed.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I've written a bunch of apocalyptic fic(lets) where it's heavily implied they die at the end or at least that death is imminent, so probably those.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Baseball Metaphors.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not often. Sometimes people will leave rude comments, but it's rare.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, I believe it's a fascinating way to explore characters.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the wildest one you’ve written?

Yeah, I do. I wrote a Battlestar Galactica/XF crossover once with @dashakay. I wrote a House MD/XF crossover too, and the Welcome to Night Vale crossover mentioned above, and one for The Fall.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know in terms of things that had my name scrubbed off them. I've had other writing stolen or borrowed, and people have uploaded my fics to other sites without permission.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think so, but I can't remember which one(s).

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Many times! My wife and I used to co-write fic all the time when we were young and silly and wrote hundreds of thousands of words of self-insert universes.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

MSR has lasted the longest besides Han/Leia. Also I strongly ship River/Doctor. The big vibe is "ships that feel queer".

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I mean at this point literally anything. I'd love to finish The FBI's Most Unwanted.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Banter, character voice, poetic prose, ambiance.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I keep hearing about this thing called plot. Never met her, though.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've written a whole fic in another language, so why not.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars. Nothing worth reading, though.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh gosh, I can't choose.

@suitablyaggrieved I would love to hear your answers! And anyone else who's intrigued.

[quandaryqueen]

With Young Justice Riddler(or more if you want): He is coming home from a cuddly date with Y/N at the fair, and he realizes that his shirt smells like Y/N. So Eddie pulls his shirt up to his face to smell it before it fades away.

Lightheaded, lighthearted

Young Justice Edward Nygma X Reader

OHOHO this wil be good, to those who are requesting more of our pathetic baby YJ Eddie, I love you guys sooooo so much 💝✨

💚 It is most crucial to introduce major players in this little trip, so I won't refer these group fo people as solely 'your friends' throughout the whole narrative.

There's Lee, the horndog with the innuendos. but with that innocent face, no one suspected a thing and no one would believe you. The brightest, yet sometimes dimmest. Other than that, she's a sweetheart.

Diedre, the thrill seeker. Enables Lee a lot with her continuous spur of innuendos by adding fuel to the fire. A great cheerleader and pep talker, she is very encouraging and supporting, always the loudest in the crowd when it comes to showing support.

Nina, the stoic one, the sarcastic edge over lord. Mistress of dry humour, straight-faced and takes no shit. May look like she doesn't give a fuck, but don't let that fool you, she's the older sister friend that keeps everyone in check if she isn't the one enabling it, which is normally the case.

Marian, but she prefers to be called Macy, mom friend supreme. Sweet, warm, welcoming. Holds the metaphorical child-leashes in your friend group. Is placed under constant stress with either Lee, Diedre, Nina and you from your unique individual needs, circumstances, fuck ups and such.

💚 Carnival fairs!!! The food, the sights, the ambiance! The screams of children and adult alike as they course through the air from a highly questionable machinery that's probably overdue to repairs and maintenance... ITS FUN I SWEAR---

Well, you can always avoid the rides... But you have friends who are good in peer pressure, in which case, yes, you cannot avoid it. You can delay the rides by going elsewhere, but it won't take long until one of them hurls you in one of those the rides.

If you can tolerate/enjoy such activities, good for you. Your date on the other hand... Well, you gotta save it for last if you want him coherent, not vomitting and standing with two of his feet on the ground.

💚 And so while you're evading the carnival rides, Edward has taken to test himself with a few range-shooting games for fun. He's held a real gun before and aimed it at the Bat before, surely he can do it in a setting in which it's not really. Keyword, aimed, never shot. And he's only ever used it to intimidate anyways--but surely! Surely he can use a fake one! And besides, the targets aren't even moving... Unless the game is rigged, then it was not on him.

Anyways, there were five bullets loaded in the toy gun and you have a specific amount of targets to knock off a terrain to win a specific objects with points written on them. Ten points can win you a pen. Fifteen points you can win a snack. Twenty five points get a pencil case. Forty points can get you the fun ones, the stuffed points and boy, was he aiming for a one hundred to win youthe biggest stuff toy in there.

He has the gun in his hand, on a stance of what he thinks is the proper pose for a marksman.

Aim... Ready... Fire.

Aaaaand it missed. His aim was waaaay off. Upon firing, he catches the attention of your wandering friends and began to gather behind you. Knowing them full-well, they were going to heckle the fuck out of your poor man for the fun of it and though it's all in the name of fun and they don't really mean it, but you know how Edward can be a touch sensitive. Instead, Lee, Diedre and Nina stood behind scrutinizing the targets, then the operator, who has his eyes on you.

Whatever, he has four more shots.

... it didn't knock the target off the terrain.

Nina steps next to Edward and squints at the target for a moment, before turning to him.

"Try shooting that one," She points at the one at the edge, in which Edward follows and surely hits the target, but it didn't fell off. He empties the bullets, and it barely knocked it over. "Huh... The glue on that target sure is strong, ain't it Mister?" Nina points a barely concealed condescension at the operator, her accusatory gaze contorting to irritation when Macy smacked the sarcastic lass by the shoulder.

"I assure you, ma'am, they're not. See?" The operator demonstrates by picking up the target. Seeing satisfaction in Nina's eyes, he lowers the target back down.

"Sorry about that, Mister." Macy sheepishly smiles at him.

"Nah, I get it."

"I'll have another try."

Your friends glanced at your date with stunned faces. Oh he is determined to get you that damned stuffed animal, fuck his wallet.

💚 About five tries, not a point in his calibre and at this point, he was getting embarrassed. He is aware this might be rigged but at the same time, his ego was way to big for him to back down until he won the price. He is winning this for you, goddamnit! It feels as though he was playing basketball, and he has the ball and proclaims to you that this shot is for you, only for him to fail at shooting the ball in the ring and it just looks pathetic and to him, it symbolically equates his love for you being untrue. He doesn't know where he is pulling these bullshit from at this point, he is a mess.

"May I try?"

Edward flushed red when your hand lands on his arm and his determination and obligation to win this melted away. Of course he wasn't going to say no to you! Who would do such a thing?

"O-Of course!"

He hands you the gun and closely watched the concentration in your beautiful countenance scrutinize the target with sheer admiration in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger.

For some reason, he wasn't that butt hurt. He initially thought he would, but not a speck of it was there. Instead, he felt proud and damn impressed. And his chest swelled at the memory of the sight of concentration in your features, how you somehow dropped from your usual self and into this unrecognisable, yet still beautiful side of you.

It was then Edward found out that your achievements were also your friends', as he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard them shriek behind him in excitement, shouting out words of support. But most of all, you actually did it! You sheepishly turned to them, rubbing the back of your neck whilst lowering the gun by the counter.

"HELL YEAH!"

"YOU GO BITCH!"

"WE KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!"

"WAY TO GO!"

"Oh come on you guys, it was just beginner's luck." You dismissively waved at them, before picking up the price by the counter. "This, is for you." You handed him the brown bear with a purple bow around its neck.

"T-thank you umm..." He swallows thickly, accepting the bear and pressing it to his chest. "I-uh... Good job! You did really well!"

"Aww, shucks..." You bit your lip before lightly nudging him. "I kept you in mind as an inspiration to win."

Edward stares at you with wide eyes. Have you now?

"I'm flattered, Y/N. I was actually... Um... The sentiment is mutual but uh, I kinda— y-ya know, failed." And it was pathetic.

"I know this sounds so cliché... But it's the thought that counts."

"OH MY GOSH, KARAOKE YOU GUYS!"

Diedre exclaimation bursts from the world you constructed with Edward where the only two of you exist at the moment. You were back in the present, where your friends began dragging both you and Edward to the said karaoke booth.

💚 The booth was small, but enough to fit six people if you are willing to squeeze against your seatmates... Or maybe sit on one's lap, that can work too and that's what you did. Edward was a touch flustered, but with enough convincing from you, he finally sat on your lap.

Anyways, songs were found and numbers were punched in. The microphone was functional in Diedre's hand and the machine was blaring the tracks you all know and love. At first, Edward was a touch too flustered to sing along with you and your friends. But as time comes, he finds himself singing as well, just not as loud as you were being. The microphone gets passed around during verse and chorus switch, in which Edward denied the microphone and instead passed it to someone else.

"But mama I'm in love with a criminal! And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical! Mama please don't cry, I will be alright! All reason aside, I just can't deny, love the guy~"

Diedre had always been fond of singing and she is one hell of a vocalist. But at times, she tends to be carried away and throw what she had learned from vocal classes and just scream lyrics with friends.

"IF YOU CAN SEE THAT I'M THE ONE WHO UNDERSTANDS YOU, BEEN HERE ALL ALONG SO WHY CAN'T YOU SEE—! YOU BELONG WITH ME, OOOH YOU BELONG WITH ME!!!"

Lee is a screamer, not a shred of vocal talent within her but she is an enthusiastic fellow who is passionate about it.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers, singing my life with his words. Killing me softly with his song, killing me softly with his song, telling my whole life with his words, killing me softly with his song~"

Macy falls more into the soft, whispery singing voice suited for lullabies.

"Somebody, ooh, somebody! Can anybody find me somebody to looooooove!"

Nina and her rock and roll voice, of course. Chest voice is rich and she nails more of the guttural side of singing, but now and again, she belts out.

"Oh shut the fuck up you're winning in love." Nina shoves your face away from the microphone from singing the chorus, her gaze flickering to Edward, before she continues with the second verse.

They're already wilding at this stage, Edward wonder what could possibly happen if alcohol were to be involved...

💚 As the "the first one to get a sore throat" competition ensues, Edward couldn't help but to feel at ease at how your friends would include him in every activity you engage in. He doesn't feel lost in conversations, as they would provide him context.

He doesn't notice the way you wrapped your arms around his waist while he was seated in your lap until you temporarily unwrapped them and reached for something. He felt as though your arms were natural to be there, around his midsection. The moment he noticed, he was flaring red and one might assume because you were screaming the lyrics of Rihanna's S and M.

"You sure you don't wanna give it a go?" You grinned at Edward, offering the microphone. R

"Come on!"

"It'll be fun!"

"Pleaaaaase?"

"You don't have to," Macy reassures with an understanding look, as the instrumental of the last song begins.

... I mean, he might as well.

Upon reaching for the microphone, your friends began clapping and cheering. He isn't much of a singer but the way your friends hype up one another despite delivering an ear-piercing performance, they applaud to no end, so it does bring comfort to know that.

"I want your love and I want your revenge, you and me could write a bad romance!"

"WOAH OH OH OOOOOOH~~~" you and your friends sang along.

"I want your love and all your lover's revenge, you and me could write a bad romance!"

💚 After exiting the booth, the sights of the ride greets you once again, where it had Edward swallowing thickly when his eyes meet a Pirate ship ride filled with screaming attendants. Then there's a roller coaster, a big nope. Then there's the Ferris wheel, that's oddly fast instead of an idle spin, it resembled a human washing machine.

Then there's your friends, pointing at the said rides in excitement. This is where Edward has taken to hiding behind you again when your friends settled to ride the Pirate Ship. The ominous thing which swung back and fourth like a pendulum.

"Come on Edward, it'll be fun!" Lee encourages, lightly shaking him by his shoulders.

"I-I don't think I can—"

"If Y/N will ride, would you?"

Yes...

"Lee, don't force someone to do what they don't want to," Macy lightly scolds.

"You are riding, right Y/N?" Diedre asks, draping her arm around your shoulder and poking a finger in your cheek.

"Well yeah, sure why not?"

... well, suck it up, I guess.

"Dee," Macy glares at Diedre.

"I-I'll go." Edward blurts out.

"Are you sure?" You and Macy spoke in unison.

"Yes." No.

"Come on, I already bought tickets. Eddie's coming along, right?" Nina spoke from behind you after standing in line to get tickets.

"I am..."

"Are you sure?" You pulled him aside, clinging on his arm and looking deeply within his bespectacled gaze to search his reluctance, lo and behold, it was so fucking obvious.

"Y-Yes... Don't worry about me." Fucking. Help.

💚 With reassurances given to you and himself, he was strapped in his seat with you and Lee, who were seated on either side of him. White knuckling the metallic safety bar, he watches in horror as the seats were filled by other attendants and the sound of horns rings against his ears. Then, the ship started to swing and let me tell you, his stomach fucking dropped.

His first instinct was to screw his eyes shut and refused to let a sound from his throat. Behind him, he can hear Nina and Diedre cheering loudly, fucking egging the conductor to bring the ride at its fullest speed. Out of fear, he tucks his head against your neck and found his hand clutching your thigh. In all this terror, for a moment, felt him stabilizing when he felt you put a hand atop his...

Then, somehow, Nina and Diedre finally got what they want... Everyone boarding the ride who swore not to scream, screamed. Edward was a little thankful he wasn't the only one.

💚 Nina and Diedre were a touch disappointed when the ride came to end, but some others were rushing out of the ride and Edward was one of them. The ground seemingly swayed with every step and felt as though he had once again accidentally drank from the Mad Hatter's teacup. To lend him a sense of stability, you were once again by his side... Macy, being the concern mother hen she is, was also there. Whereareas Lee, Nina and Diedre were laughing about the experience... Not specifically Edward, but he was too disoriented to hear it.

"Oh my fucking, the girl behind me was screeching a church hymn." Diedre laughed, before nudging Nina. "You got that recorded, right?!"

"Sure did!" Nina holds her phone out.

"Oooh! I recorded too!" You looked over Lee, who possesses blackmail material with a glare.

"Who are you feeling?" Macy, not minding the noise behind her, has taken to seating Edward under a tree shaded bench. Rummaging through her back, she produces a zesty menthol essential oil before handing it to Edward. "Here, hold on to this for the time being. I'm going to get some water."

"Thank you..." Edward managed to croak as Macy turned away and make a beeline for the food stalls. Taking a light inhale from the uncapped bottle, he feels his nausea to lightly dissipate.

"I am so sorry about that..." Edward glances at you to find your apologetic face looking away.

"No, no, it's not your fault... It was my choice..." He weakly insists.

"Can I still make it up to you?" You looked up at him.

... Well if you're offering...

"Can I... Rest my head on your shoulder?" Edward chokes up for a moment, but felt a sense of comfort knowing you wouldn't say know.

Smiling, you tip your head aside your offer him your shoulder. Edward leans in and sighs in content, face flushing a deeper shade of red when you went an extra mile to wrap your arms around his torso. Unbeknownst to the both of you, certain cellphone welding friends were taking pictures.

💚 Upon feeling better, the whole group decided to stop by for some snacks, eat before going home. Edward had fun; he got to know more of you, the people you love, your interests, talents, befriended your friends, rode a dreaded ride... Cuddling up with you...

When he got home, he couldn't deny the smile on his face. He steps in his room, in the process of removing his jacket when he suddenly caught your scent. Stunned, he presses his nose on his jacket and breathes it in before he collapsed on his bed with a content sigh.

He was disrupted from his daydreams when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Curiously, he reaches for it and unlocks it, to find himself added to a group chat named 'Green Gang', the picture of the group being the photo you have taken after the damn ride... Lee, Diedre, Nina who looked as normal, while you, Macy and Edward were situated by the corner tending to him.

Lee: Hey :D

Lee: Just got home. I'll send some pics later (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Nina sent 30 photos

Diedre: Damn, I have like 3 or 5 pics 😂

Nina sent 30 photos

Nina sent 30 photos

Nina sent 30 photos

Nina sent 10 videos

Diedre: 😳

Lee: RIP phone storage

Macy: Still on the train. Are you okay now, Edward?

Edward froze... He swallows thickly, before typing up a reply.

Edward: Just got home. I'm doing great, thank you for taking care of me.

Lee: That's Macy for ya (⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

Edward: That was actually a great time, thank you for inviting me.

Diedre: We won't traumatise you next time 😁

Nina: That would be Y/N's job lmao

Edward couldn't help but to chuckle.

Y/N: Gang and I are like going out for a fun photoshoot. Wanna come?

Well duh.

Edward: I'd love to.

Another date, pinned on his calendar. He is fucking winning in life.

[cowederevived]

HEY EVERYONE. WELCOME TO YOUR FAVORITE SHOW OF ALL : "instead of doing asks cowede talks about random subjects and advertised for shows and animes"

Now I was doing my stuff, slowly but surely progressing through bleach (some of you may now i'm watching it atm, its good (but veeeeeeeeeery slow) but it aint what were gonna talk about) and lowkey harassing plain with futa angie pictures because yes. And my brain was just waltzing around, as it usually does when I remembered out of nowhere a show that I watched during my early adolescence and the last time was a few years ago and that I really like, and since I have a small tumblr blog, may as well advertise good shows I like here! So, let me tell you a tell of red hair chinese cool mc, kepranks, knocks knocks, sick music and conspiracies. We're gonna talk about Detentionaire. (Micro spoilers)

Detentionaire is a Canadian 4 season 53 (lmao lolz lmao funny number) episode long thriller mystery comedy cartoon that came out from 2011 to 2014. I will spoiler free resume the plot as if : As Lee ping, 10th grader and (kinda) loner starts his new year at Alexander Nigma High he finds himself framed as the perpetrator of a Massive prank that hits the whole school, and is punished by a whole year of constant detention. Searching to prove his innocence, he will daily sneak out of detention to find the true perpetrator and clear his name, in the process he will discover that this "prank" hides a deep secret that goes far, far beyond what he could have ever imagined. While the series starts off as a little silly, "its just a prank bro" it ends up going very far, and I will not talk about how much it is, but let me tell you, it goes very far, and quite well. Its a way different tone, but you could definitely compare it to other mystery thriller cartoon shows like gravity falls (another absolute gem) I trully advice you to watch the few first episodes, theres a high chance it will hook you if you like those kind of "conspiracy" theme shows. The mystery and the way it progress is VERY well handled in my opinion, each episode gives you hint, or red herrings at the bigger picture, and they definitely knew what they were doing. Upon rewatching the series you will usually pick up on lots of small differents elements that were hidden in plan sight, making it feel all very well thought out. The series also takes place in a sliiiightly different universe than ours, for example the principal of a school is a military cyborg, and the (living and savage) mascot of the school is a tazelwurm, a cryptid, this gives the shows a real ambiance of mystery i'm personnaly quite a fan of. The side characters are honestly pretty well done, while some are very stereotypical, a lot of them get side stories or devlopment throughout the show, and the main gang as a very chaotic yet compeling chemistry with each other.

Anyway! that is all! I really kinda struggle advising shows in general, but if you like good thriller mystery cartoon with decent plot progression and likeable (imo) characters ? Go for it, its a total hidden gem, as the show got high ratings, but isnt very well known. And uh, theres (kinda slow) good romance too ? I guess theres that. it's a high school show of course it was gonna be the case. The episodes are fully disponible (for free) on youtube having been posted by Retro Rerun (just search detentionaire and you will find the full series playlist very easily) So yeah, if you have some free time and want to see something else than animes and series, remember good cartoons also exist!

[iibonniee]

Day 21 | Chae Hyungwon

Paring: Chae Hyungwonx Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

Rating: G

Word Count: 651

Prompt: Wrapping Presents

Masterlist

Tags: @doveslittlekpoparchive @choicethot @xosunny @heaviihamonii

Hyungwon’s eyes snapped to the left for what felt like the 100th time in the last minute alone. Beside him sat his girlfriend, Y/N, who softly hummed Christmas music as she perfectly wrapped her family’s Christmas present. Hyungwon sat there, baffled about how she could wrap something so… perfectly.

He watched as she glanced at him for a moment, her soft half, half-lifted smile turning into a full one the moment she noticed how often his gaze found her own. The mellow glow from the string of nearby fairy lights cast a gentle shimmer on her face, creating an ethereal picture that made Hyungwon’s heart flutter uncontrollably. The hum from the radio in the background looped a series of Christmas carols, encapsulating them in a harmonious bubble of festive cheer.

Her concentration was unwavering, brows furrowed adorably as she diligently continued her craft. But a subtle shift in her gaze gave her away - the glint of mirth in her eyes revealed that she was aware of her spectator. Every so often, she would sneak a look at him, blinking innocently before breaking into unabashed grins that set his insides ablaze.

Engrossed in her task, Y/N didn’t waver from the rhythm of her makeshift work-station. Ribbon cut… tape snatched… paper folded. She was a symphony in motion, swaying lightly to the melody of carols that seemed to weave itself into her every movement. The light from the glowing Christmas tree set the wrapping paper aglow, amplifying the precision with which she carefully creased each fold.

Hyungwon was mesmerized by her tangible perfection and the underlying halo of tenderness touching everything she did, her knack for making even the most mundane tasks seem celestial. The more he drank in her ambiance, the more he acknowledged that her immaculate gift-wrapping skills were just a tiny part of the magical allure Y/N possessed, a charm that kept him returning to the warmth of her gaze, the captivating energy of her presence.

The room filled with the scent of pine and cinnamon wafting from the freshly baked cookies on the counter, mingling with the intoxicating fragrance Y/N always seemed to wear. As she sealed the last gift with a beautiful, looping bow, Y/N turned to him with an accomplished smile, eyes twinkling more brightly than the lights adorning the Christmas tree. Hyungwon couldn’t help but return her smile, losing himself in the magic of Y/N and their shared holiday cheer.

“How do you do that?” Hyungwon finally spoke up, entirely lost and amazed at how perfectly well she did such a task. She made it look easy - far too easy.

“Is it magic?” Hyungwon probed playfully, as he picked up one of the impeccably wrapped gifts, examining it minutely as if he could uncover her secret just by looking closely enough.

Y/N chuckled, the infectious sound echoing in the room before she leaned into Hyungwon, her shoulder gently brushing against his. “No, darling,” she admitted, her eyes dancing with mirth as she picked up another ribbon, “just patience and a lot of practice.”

“Practice, huh?” Hyungwon hummed, resigning to the fact that gift wrapping was one of the many areas in which his girlfriend beautifully excelled. He unraveled a ribbon from the bunch Y/N had placed in the middle of their little workspace and held it out mischievously.

“Can I give it a try then?” he dared.

Y/N looked at him in surprise, then nodded with a grin. “Sure, I’d love to see you try.”

And so they spent their evening, Hyungwon hilariously fumbling with the wrapping paper, ribbons, and tape. At the same time, Y/N guided him through the whole process amidst bouts of laughter. That night, Hyungwon realized that it was not just the beautifully wrapped gifts but the precious moments spent together, tied with the ribbon of love, sprinkled with the glitter of joy, and sealed with the tape of time.

[guizh0ng]

Remember

Chapter 18: Checkmate

(TW: idk, THIS IS CRAP READ AT YOUR OWN RISK/srs/hj)

Espen pushed open the door to the room, and an unexpected feeling washed over her.

The air was saturated with nostalgia, evoking memories of childhood innocence and the playful mischievousness of a young soul.

Despite the unexpected ambiance, Espen steeled herself, maintaining focus as she directed her gaze forward.

"Welcome, I've been expecting you!" There, she found herself facing a person with messy blond hair parted somewhere in the middle, though she couldn't tell much as he was wearing a hat.

Indoors.

The man stood opposite her, tilting his head to the side and gazing at her with cheerful light blue eyes.

A playful smile etched on his lips, his demeanor exuding a blend of confidence and curiosity.

"Expecting me?" Espen raised a brow, looking at him "Why have you been expecting me?"

Espen's thoughts raced as she pondered the situation.

If this person anticipated her arrival, it seemed likely that Felìx had informed him ahead of time, probably.

Since, he was the only one she faced ever since the mission started.

And since they hadn't encountered all members of the Deck of Cards yet, this person had a good chance of being one of them.

Espen steeled herself, mentally preparing for the possibility of facing a member from the infamous group.

"That's because..my good friend Felìx, told me all about you!" He said, smiling happily "..and how you defeated the very Ace of Clubs" He said, trying to mimick Felìx's flirtatious manner of speaking.

The person scrutinized Espen intently, his gaze dissecting her every feature.

She involuntarily took a step back, feeling a wave of unease under his intense scrutiny.

Though she had expected him to be a member of the Deck of Cards, she still needed to determine which card he represented.

With knowledge of his position within the Deck of Cards hierarchy, Espen found it easier to gauge the information he might possess.

If he held the rank of an Ace or any other number lower than hers, it was unlikely that he had knowledge of her true identity.

But given his role as the controller of a gambling den, it was highly probable that he held the rank of a Joker.

Espen recognized that the odds were evenly split between whether he was aware of her status as an Agent operating within his territory or not.

The uncertainty added an extra layer of tension to the surface.

If he turned out to be a King, there was little doubt in Espen's mind that he was aware of her presence.

Considering the Agency she worked for and the mafia group had been at odds for the last two years, Espen knew he wouldn't be oblivious to the feud.

Regardless of his knowledge, she reminded herself not to dwell on the past, especially since Viktoriya had deliberately kept it in the shadows.

Espen chuckled softly at the way he copied Felìx's flirtatious tone, "Ah, I guess he would tell you about the whole event that happened" She said, shaking my head slightly in playful amusement.

Espen reminded herself to stay in character, regardless of whether this person was aware of her true identity or not.

For now, they must maintain the illusion of being strangers, at least on the surface.

Although her guard was up, Espen continued to approach the situation with caution and care.

"Oh!" He said, realizing that he hadn't introduced himself.

"I forgot to tell you, my name is Piérre Marseìlle! but everyone just calls me Marsy!" He said, pausing for a moment before continuing as he walked towards her, "..I'm the King of Diamonds, I run this place! But you probably already know that considering you willingly want to meet me yourself" He gracefully took Espen's hand and gently kissed her knuckles.

Despite her internal cringing at the physical display of courtesy, which was not something she was fond of, Espen recognized that this behavior was probably common in France since 'Piérre' had a French accent.

She endured it with as much composure as possible.

As Espen started to observe the man more closely, details that initially escaped her attention came into focus.

She noticed his fair complexion and a flat yet sturdy build.

Interestingly, he appeared to be roughly the same height as her, with the possibility of being slightly taller.

With his youthful demeanor and cheerful attitude, Espen began to see why others might underestimate him as the person running the gambling den.

Espen noted the details of the man's attire, particularly his dark red fedora hat adorned with a light orange lace and a set of faded yellow and green feathers.

The hat sat jauntily on his head, adding a touch of extravagance to his overall appearance.

Espen's observant eyes continued to take in the man's appearance, noting the dark blue frames of his eyeglasses and the unique design featuring pink chains with amethysts attached to them.

The glasses added a touch of sophistication to his overall style, despite the childish vibe he gave off.

She observed the fluffy black neck fur perched atop a black tuxedo.

The pearl white neck tie and grey polo beneath added a touch of refinement to his attire.

However, her eyes were drawn to the silver brooch shaped in a diamond attached to the side of his tuxedo.

The accessory hinted at his connection to the gambling den's theme and further emphasized his position.

The man also wore white gloves, which were adorned with numerous silver rings on his fingers.

Espen took in the final details of the man's outfit, noting the simple black pants with light grey stripes and the humble brown shoes that completed his ensemble.

Despite his varied assortment of colors in his attire, Espen mused that she much preferred a more streamlined, monochromatic style.

Just as Espen was about to begin her introduction, Pièrre interrupted her, preventing her from proceeding.

Given that he was a King Card, it was probable that he already knew who she was, leaving her wondering if it was even necessary to formally introduce herself.

Piérre couldn't help but interrupt Espen as she was about to introduce herself, excitement taking over, "Oh don't worry, I already know who you are!" He exclaimed. "You're Miss Fianchettó, aren't you?"

Just as she expected.

"Oh, then I guess I don't have to introduce myself, then.." Espen simply replied, "Word spreads fast around here."

Piérre chuckled lightly and shook his head.

"No, it's not like that at all!" He clarified, "I'm the only one in here who knows who you are since I'm a King Card, Felìx would've loved it if he knew, but so far, only I knew."

Ofcourse, as she said before, she already knew that.

From what she observed Piérre's mannerisms and demeanor, she mentally noted that he seemed to have a polar opposite mindset to hers.

He spoke casually and with little restraint, often acting on his impulses without much contemplation.

His actions appeared unpredictable, guided by emotions more than logic.

While she wasn't entirely certain, Espen sensed that his decisions might be influenced by his feelings more than any other factor.

Piérre paused for a moment, before proposing a deal, "Hey, how about we play a game? Since you're here, you probably have a reason being so"

That was random.

He suggested with a smile, "One match, loser has to grant the winner's wish. I promise, it'll be fun."

Espen was far more interested in completing her objective than having fun, but she was still a stickler for people keeping their word.

After all, her last game had yielded the desired outcome, and she hoped for a similar result this time.

With a sigh, she extended a hand to Piérre for a handshake, signaling the commencement of their agreement.

"What game will we be playing, then?" Espen asked, raising a quizzical brow.

Piérre's eyes twinkled with excitement. "Chess!" He declared, gesturing to a nearby chessboard on the back. "I'll be black, and you'll be white. May the best player win!"

Piérre gestured for Espen to follow him as he moved towards a table in the corner of the room.

He picked up a chessboard from the back and set it up on the table, carefully arranging the pieces in their starting positions.

"Now then, shall we begin?" Piérre gestured for Espen to take a seat, and she obliged.

He then reached under the table and retrieved a timer before placing it on the table between them.

With the timer set, Piérre prepared for the game to begin.

Espen took a moment to gather her thoughts, centering herself for the impending match.

Piérre watched as she took the seat opposite of him and sat down.

As Piérre watched her, Espen couldn't help but feel a pang of unease.

Chess, out of all games he could have chosen, gave her a bad feeling.

It wasn't that she was poor at the game - quite the contrary - her skill had been a major factor in getting her into the agency, and she was considered the best in her hometown at it.

Espen occasionally even played chess matches with Yamir, as they are each other's 'checkmates,'strictly platonically.

The fact that she had an advantage in this game due to her skill stirred her suspicions about Piérre's intentions even more.

She surmised that he was hiding something up his sleeve, and to uncover it and prevent potential consequences, she needed to stay one step ahead of him.

He smiled, watching her with a curious gaze as she's been quiet for a whole minute, he decided to break the ice, "Since you have the white pieces, you can have the first move! I don't mind at all, mon trésor!"

Espen shook off her head as she moved it back to the game, "Alright.." She made her chess move, carefully sliding her pawn two squares forward to e4.

Without hesitation, Piérre mirrored her action by advancing his pawn to e5.

The game was under way, and each player had firmly established their opening move.

Espen skillfully moved her bishop three spaces diagonally forward to c4, aiming to target the strategic position of f7.

She knows to herself not to become too complacent in her approach, even if Piérre appeared casual or lighthearted in demeanor.

The game of chess demanded careful thought and attention, regardless of one's opponent's outward appearance.

Piérre responded to Espen's bishop placement by advancing his knight to c6, placing it in front of the third pawn on the left.

Espen confidently moved her queen to h5, sliding diagonally across four squares.

Upon seeing Piérre's slight gasp at her move, Espen inwardly rolled her eyes at his dramatic response.

No wonder she's friends with people the same mindset as her.

In response to Espen's queen move, Piérre happily advanced his pawn to g6.

Espen made a strategic move by returning her queen back to f3, two squares backwards.

"My, my...so you're playing offensively, eh? You aren't fooling around, are you?"

He moved his knight to the battleground of f6 before leaning forward with his usual smirk, "I like it. Hm...I'll play a defensive move this turn, then!"

Espen continued her offensive strategy by moving her pawn to g4, pushing it two squares forward to threaten Piérre's position.

In response, Piérre swiftly moved his own pawn to g5, reinforcing the defense and creating a potential barrier against Espen's advance.

Despite the ever-present smile on Piérre's face, Espen maintained a steely composure, keeping her expression unwavering.

Although the tension between them might not be apparent on the surface, it was unmistakably palpable in the air.

Both players were locked in a game of wits, each move carefully considered and executed with precision.

Espen decided to make a strategic sacrifice, moving her pawn to h4 and capturing Piérre's own pawn.

This maneuver allowed her to advance another pawn diagonally one square forward, further strengthening her position while slightly weakening Piérre's defenses.

Piérre responded to Espen's pawn capture by moving his rook to g8, placing it right next to the targeted pawn for defense.

In a swift countermove, Espen captured the vulnerable pawn, which prompted Piérre to use his rook to capture her attacking pawn, effectively neutralizing her attempt.

Espen advanced her rook calmly to h6, aiming to eliminate Piérre's knight.

However, he quickly responded by capturing her rook with his bishop, thwarting her attempt.

Espen accepted the loss of her rook with a shrug, understanding that sacrifices were an inevitable part of the game of chess.

Espen executed another strategic move by sliding her knight to e2, positioning it in front of her king.

Her intentions were clear - she was initiating a 'Scholar's Mate', a classic chess tactic aimed at delivering a speedy checkmate in a few moves.

This move served multiple purposes: it would not only determine the caliber of her opponent but also give her valuable insights into Piérre's playing style and strategies.

Even if she does lose, Espen had multiple backup plans and backup plans for those backup plans and moves up her sleeve, ready to respond and adapt to any countermoves.

Espen countered Piérre's queenside castling preparation by advancing her knight to g3.

Piérre decided to respond by moving his pawn to a6, preparing for queenside castling.

In response to Piérre's pawn advance to a6, Espen skillfully positioned her knight that was in front of her king to g3.

Piérre, seemingly unaffected, calmly advanced his pawn to b5.

The game was heating up, and both players were carefully considering their next moves as the tension in the room heightened.

Espen's Scholar's Mate attempt continued, and she was keenly watching Piérre's every move to anticipate his counter.

Espen made a calculated move, placing her pawn on d2.

Piérre responded by advancing his bishop diagonally forward to b7, creating a potential threat to Espen's position of pieces.

Espen contemplated her next step, knowing that she had to take a significant risk.

She decided to bravely advance her knight on h5, putting it in a vulnerable position, waiting for Piérre's response.

Her hope was that he would use his knight to capture her piece, falling into her carefully laid trap.

With determination etched on her face, Espen made her move.

Espen patiently waited for Piérre's response, her gaze fixed on him as he sat across the table with an innocent smile.

The tension in the air was palpable, almost tangible, as if a single word could shatter the brittle silence or it could be like easily cut with a knife.

The chess timer reset itself, and the seconds ticked away, adding to the suspense of the moment.

The stakes were high, and Espen's plan hung in the balance, dependent on Piérre's next move.

Espen's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly composed herself, not letting her true emotions show on her face.

Her plan seemed to be working as Piérre moved his knight to capture the one on h5.

Espen maintained her cool demeanor, hiding her satisfaction.

Espen seized the opportunity once Piérre captured her knight, quickly moving her queen back one square diagonally to f7.

Her gaze was fixed on Piérre's face, watching as a hint of shock registered on his features.

"Checkmate." Espen spoke softly, her eyes locked onto Piérre as he reacted with a dramatic gasp.

Piérre stared at the chessboard in disbelief as Espen declared checkmate.

He frowned slightly, his usual cheerful demeanor momentarily replaced by frustration. "Ah, you got me." He admitted, trying to keep his disappointment in check.

While Espen had emerged victorious in the game, the ease with which she did so left her feeling unsettled.

It didn't feel like she had earned her victory, as if Piérre had underestimated her or held back..or something else.

The unexpected simplicity of her win raised red flags in her mind, making her question his intentions even further.

"..Just what are you-"

As Espen was about to start a barrage of questions on Piérre, he cut her off, once again interrupting her in the process.

Piérre chuckled softly, his cheerful demeanor returning almost instantly. "Ah, By the way I already knew what your wish is!" He exclaimed. "So, there's no need for you to tell me!"

Espen raised a brow, trying to sense where this was going. "And what do you think my wish is?" She asked, crossing her arms.

Espen was growing increasingly frustrated trying to decipher Piérre's true intentions.

His unpredictable behavior and ambiguous tone made it nearly impossible for her to discern whether he was speaking truthfully or not.

Each word spoken only added to her confusion and doubt, leaving her uncertain about who she was dealing with.

Piérre smiled slyly. "Oh, I can't tell you that!" He said, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "But I can tell you one thing; I won't grant your wish!"

His words hit Espen like a ton of bricks as her back stiffened, her eyes, wide open and darting downwards.

Frustration and confusion coursed through her veins as she struggled to process his unexpected statement.

She had invested time and effort into this...stupid game of his, hoping to secure a favor in return when she could've just quickly ended this with a fight earlier (she's not a fan of it, but it get things done).

Yet, now he declared that he wouldn't grant her wish?

Why waste her time then?

She could feel her breath quicken, but she forced herself to take a deep breath and calm her racing thoughts.

With a forced neutral expression, she looked back at Piérre, determined to maintain her composure.

"Why won't you grant it?" Espen asked.

Piérre's smile faded, but in the surface it was still there, it just didn't looked right. "Because... if I granted your wish, I'd have to keep a secret from you."

He paused for a moment, his eyes full of secrecy "And that secret is something I can't tell you, otherwise you'd..well, let's just say you wouldn't like it!"

Espen stood up abruptly as she passive-aggresively slammed her fists on the table, her tone sharp. "You agreed to grant my wish if I won the game, didn't you? I won, so tell me what's going on."

Espen felt a maelstrom of emotions within her, desperate to burst free and be expressed outwardly.

Yet, she knew better than to let her feelings overrule her actions.

Even if she wanted to, she can't.

She was a rational individual, capable of understanding the importance of addressing matters at the proper time and with the appropriate emotional response.

She firmly believed that allowing her emotions to take control would only create further chaos, so she fought to maintain her composure and stay level-headed, even in dealing with situations like these.

His eyes remained the same despite her sharp tone; unmoved and empty yet he was still smiling, then he sighed, realizing there was no point in hiding it any longer, "Alright, alright, I'll tell you." he relented, tilting his head to the side, it's as if he's treating all of this as just a game.

"There are bombs planted in this place." he paused, with a carefree tone. "You have one minute to get out of the building."

Espen's eyes widened in disbelief, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of the situation.

Why hadn't her team picked up on this earlier?

How could Piérre speak so casually, almost carefree, as if their lives weren't hanging in the balance?

The mission may have been their primary objective, but survival took precedence above all.

A plan formed in Espen's mind; they needed to retreat, and quick.

She swallowed her doubts, realizing that completing the mission was pointless if none of them made it out alive.

Espen darted out of the room without hesitation, the door swinging open with a loud bang as she made her escape.

Her footsteps echoed loudly in the hallway as she sprinted, her thoughts a whirlwind in her mind.

As she put distance between herself and Piérre, she could feel his gaze fixated on her, but she didn’t dare look back.

Multiple concerns churned within her mind, each one vying for immediate attention.

Espen swiftly activated her earpiece and linked it to Sora's line.

Her breaths came out in ragged gasps, the adrenaline from her run still coursing through her body.

She wasted no time in urgently speaking into the device, her voice filled with a sense of urgency, "WinterCrux, Come In."

"WinterCrux, speaking, what's the issue, Fianchettó?" Espen took a deep breath, steadying her voice before responding to Sora through the earpiece, ready to drop the bomb to her.

Her breath was still labored from the rapid escape, but she managed to speak with as much composure as possible, "WinterCrux! We need to get out, now! There are bombs planted throughout the building. Hurry, tell Lunear to quickly evacuate as well. Once outside, I'll meet you guys, get a getaway vehicle to ensure escape!"

Upon hearing Espen's words, Sora delivered a light gasp through the earrpiece, "Bombs?" She repeated, her voice carrying a hint of fear, "Alright, I'll get Lunear to retreat immediately!"

As the comm connection ended, Espen pushed herself to run faster, her feet carrying her swiftly down the halls.

Upon reaching the staircase to the ninth floor, she didn't hesitate to hoist herself over the railing and leap down, her descent marked by a momentary suspension in the air before she hit the ground running.

Her mind focused on the plan and the hope that Nemo had received her instructions, she silently prayed that he’d be waiting for her on the eight floor.

Despite the urgency of the situation and her mind being preoccupied with the pressing task at hand, Espen found herself unable to shake off a lingering thought.

The reason behind Piérre's decision to play chess with her puzzled her.

Had it been merely to buy time?

It seemed obvious in retrospect, and yet, she had failed to anticipate it.

There was no point in dwelling on the past, however, as Espen quickened her pace, heading towards the staircase leading down to the eighth floor.

As Espen reached the eighth floor, she was relieved to find Nemo there just as she had hoped.

He appeared to have just fought off a group of guards, his presence a welcome sight.

Without hesitation, Espen grabbed his wrist and began sprinting down the hallway, pulling him along behind her, "Let's go! Bombs!"

Nemo, caught off guard by her sudden action, quickly recomposed himself and ran alongside her, matching her frantic pace.

"Bombs?!" Nemo called out, his voice laced with confusion.

He ran alongside Espen, his eyes darting around as they swiftly made their way down the hallway.

Just as they were about to exit, a loud explosion detonated behind them, causing Nemo to flinch and jump in surprise, realizing what she meant by bombs.

However, Espen remained seemingly unfazed, and she suddenly came to a halt, causing Nemo to turn back and look at her.

"Fianchettó..?" Nemo was about to voice another question, but before he could finish, Espen dashed towards the source of the explosion, leaving him staring anxiously in her direction.

When she reached the location where the explosion had occurred, a gaping hole was visible in the wall, its edges blackened by the blast.

Espen leaned over, peering down into it with a contemplative expression on her face.

"You remembered what we learned from Barnaby's class?" When Espen turned to Nemo, his mind was racing to try and remember some of the things he had learned in that one class he attended.

It was something about marinating the perfect barbecue, but that didn't seem very relevant at the moment.

He looked at Espen, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern, "Maybe?"

Espen rolled her eyes as she sighed, "Just repeat after me" Espen grabbed Nemo's wrist in a firm grip, her determination evident in her eyes.

Without hesitation, she leapt off the edge, pulling Nemo along with her.

Halfway through his startled yell, Nemo quickly covered his mouth, his eyes wide with surprise.

As they descended, Espen positioned herself with her arms protecting her head and her legs bent, providing a natural shock-absorbing pose.

Nemo quickly followed her example, mimicking her stance as they plummeted towards the ground.

Espen and Nemo landed on the ground with a roll, their bodies absorbing the impact and protecting them from serious injury.

It stung, but they were alive.

With no time to lose, Espen quickly got to her feet and gripped Nemo's wrist once again, pulling him along as she sprinted through the halls.

Nemo struggled to keep up with Espen's fast pace, his steps occasionally faltering and causing him to stumble.

But he gritted his teeth and pushed forward, determined not to lag behind.

Explosions echoed in the background, causing Nemo to flinch momentarily, but Espen remained unwavering, her focus solely on getting away.

Knowing that using the stairs to exit was not an option, Espen increased her speed since she didn't jump off a building for nothing.

Despite the strain on her body, she fought to maintain her momentum, refusing to let any signs of faltering show.

Soon, Espen's eyes locked onto a car with its window rolled down, and her heart skipped a beat as she recognized it being Yamir inside.

She quickly dashed towards the vehicle and ushered Nemo inside, forcefully shoving him into the backseat before jumping in herself.

Yamir wasted no time, cranking the engine and peeling away from the scene.

Sora was stationed in the passenger seat, their expression tense but focused.

As they drove away from the danger, Espen took a brief moment to catch her breath and take stock of their situation.

As the car sped away from the chaos, Espen's thoughts turned to Viktoriya, and how she would break the news to her.

In the background, another explosion could be heard, the sound a stark reminder of the danger they had just escaped from.

Espen closed her eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath as if to ground herself.

The weight of the mission's failure and their narrow escape weighed heavily on her.

____________________________________________

Felìx sprinted through the corridors of a building on the verge of imminent explosion.

Frustration and worry etched across his face as he mentally questioned Piérre's last-minute notification.

To make matters worse, Aera was reportedly trapped inside, and it was his responsibility to find and rescue her.

Felìx grumbled silently, not relishing the prospect of playing the knight in shining armor, but the threat of retribution from Leala compelled him forward.

With the building's minutes ticking away and the tracker guiding him, Felìx finally located Aera within the janitor's closet.

He quickly swung open the door to find her with a penetrating stare locked in his direction.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes before hastily removing the handkerchief covering her mouth, "Oh, finally! You sure took your sweet time, huh?" Aera says in a sarcastic tone and crosses her arms, a pout on her face.

Felìx rolls his eyes once more as he undo her ties, "Oh, trust me, coming to your rescue is at the very top of my to-do list. Nothing but the best for a damsel such as yourself" Felìx couldn't help but match Aera's sarcastic tone as he moved to untie the binds on her wrists, "But you know; it doesn't hurt to have a little patience. Didn't you parents teach you manners?"

With time running short, Felìx quickly picked her up bridal style and sprinted down the halls, his grip on Aera firm but gentle.

Aera lets out a scoff at Felìx's words and rolls her eyes, mocking him, her pout intensifying.

She crosses her arms, "Manners? Me? Oh please, I've got all the manners a girl could ask for. But I ain't got no time for patience when I was stuck in that godforsaken closet all by myse– AHHH!" Aera suddenly let out a high-pitched scream and burrowed her head into Felìx's chest, seeking comfort in her moment of distress.

Felìx glanced back just in time to see an explosion go off behind them, and he instinctively quickened his pace, holding Aera tighter in his arms.

Without missing a beat, he turned his gaze back to her.

Felìx's lips curled into a smirk as Molly buried her head into his chest, clinging onto him like a frightened kitten.

It was a side of her he had seen before, and it just happened to be his favourite.

"Ha!" He chuckled, teasingly, "What's the matter? Is the fearsome little Jack of Hearts scared?"

He continued running, his grip on her never faltering, "I mean, it's cute and all, but you're really not my type, this heart belongs to a much more special lady" As they rounded a corner, he couldn't help but tease her further, his smirk growing wider.

Aera glares up at Felìx as he teases her, her cheeks flushing with anger and embarrassment a little.

"I ain't scared! I ain’t some damsel who needs rescuing, you jackass!" She growled and lightly hit his chest in annoyance, "I can handle myself just fine and I ain't some cheap floozy like those other girls you flirt with. Got it?"

Felìx chuckled at her protestations, enjoying the way her cheeks flushed as she hit his chest.

"Whoa, easy there, tiger. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. And don't flatter yourself. I wouldn't even consider flirting with you. You're not even worth my talents" He gives her a lighthearted smirk as he continue running.

Aera scowls at Felìx's words, her annoyance growing even more. She jabs her finger into his chest and glares at him, "You better watch your tongue, mister! I'll have you know I'm worth more than a cheap flirtationship. And you're right, I ain't even worth your talents! I bet you couldn't even charm a worm if you tried! No wonder Nyssa left you.."

"What was that?" Felìx perked up.

As realization dawned on her, she changes the subject and continues, "I said! IF you don't shut your mouth right now, I'm telling Lea what you did to her teaset"

Felìx eyes widened in genuine shock at the mention of Leala, "What- No! You- You wouldn't!"

"Try me!" Aera's confident declaration silenced Felìx's potential response, leaving him no room to argue.

He knew that trying to reason with her would be futile, especially factoring in the threat of her telling Leala.

Reluctantly, Felìx closed his mouth, realizing the futility of trying to argue against her.

With a resigned sigh, he continued carrying Aera in bridal style, silently hoping that her decision to keep his secret would spare him Leala's wrath.

____________________________________________

Hours had passed since the chaotic escape from Vegas, and the team had finally made their way to the airport and returned to the agency.

As they entered, the exhausted Espen was greeted by Viktoriya standing near the entrance.

Though physically drained, Espen managed to muster a weary glance in Viktoriya's direction.

"How did the mission go?" Viktoriya didn't waste any time in asking questions, and Espen responded with a weary sigh before massaging her forehead.

Her body ached from the intense stress of the mission, each movement feeling cumbersome and exhausting.

Despite her physical state, Espen braced herself for the inevitable conversation.

As Viktoriya asked her about the mission's outcome, Espen let out a dejected sigh and responded, "Unfortunately, the mission did not go as planned. We encountered multiple bombs scattered throughout the building, which we discovered at the last minute. Despite our efforts, we had to retreat for our own safety. However, Aquamarine managed to gather crucial evidence of their crimes, and we will ensure it reaches the authorities."

Espen looked weary and mentally exhausted from the ordeal, she excused myself from the conversation, explaining, "I'm quite tired, please excuse me. I'm not in the mood to talk right now."

Espen let out another weary sigh as she walked past Viktoriya without saying a word.

Viktoriya quietly observed Espen's exhausted demeanor, knowing that she needed some time to rest and recuperate.

Shortly afterward, Sora entered the scene, and Viktoriya redirected her attention to him, greeting her with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Viktoriya crosses her arms around her chest as she let out a soft chuckle,while she looks at Sora, "Well well well, have you found anything interesting in the mission, Sora?"

Viktoriya, with her keen observation skills, had already deduced that Sora had a hidden reason behind her involvement in the mission.

She knew that Sora's determination couldn't be attributed solely to the task at hand but rather to personal motives.

Despite this, Viktoriya chose not to pry, as long as Sora's actions didn't compromise the team or the mission, she let her be.

As Sora turned her gaze towards Viktoriya, there was a distant look in her eyes, as if she had witnessed something beyond her comprehension.

Her expression was a mixture of awe and trepidation, leaving Viktoriya with a sense of intrigue and concern.

"Well..not exactly" Sora's murmur caught Viktoriya's attention as she noticed the small USB drive in Sora's hand, adorned with the image of a jasmine flower.

A wave of realization and surprise washed over Viktoriya, causing her to pause for a brief moment before speaking up.

"..Let's..talk at the library."

____________________________________________

Felìx, carrying Aera in his arms, made his way down a street, distancing himself from the explosion scene.

His steps were slow and labored, his breath shallow from exhaustion.

Finally, he reached a limousine parked nearby and approached it.

With a tired groan, Felìx deposited Aera on her feet, his actions edged with a hint of irritation.

Then he leaned forward and passive-aggressively knocked on the limo's window, signaling his presence outside, "Hey, Marsy! Open up! I ain't got all day, you know!"

Felìx persistently continued knocking until finally, Piérre rolled down his window and gazed outwardly upon Felìx and Aera standing before the limousine.

"Hey, Felìx! I'm surprised on seeing you here, honestly I thought you'd be too busy crying after my best friend left your sorry a–"

Felìx interrupts him with a scowl, "Cut it with the trash talk, Marsy. I didn't ask for an armchair analysis on my emotional state, nor did I seek your half-baked advice on how to deal with Ny–..her. You think I'm sitting around moping just because she left? As if! Trust me, I got better things to do than waste my time fretting over her" Felìx couldn't contain his frustration any longer, letting out an exclamation filled with anger.

Piérre responded with a look of disapproval, his gaze shifting from Felìx to Aera, who mirrored the same sentiments.

"Now enough blathering; open up this door before I kick it down myself." Felìx's threat hung in the air, his frustration evident in his tone of voice.

Piérre, seemingly unfazed by his outburst, simply hummed for a moment before fixing his gaze back onto Felìx.

"Nah, Bye!" Piérre responded with a carefree tone, completely unbothered by Felìx's threats.

Before Felìx could further express his irritation, Piérre closed the window and instructed the driver to start the vehicle.

With that, he left Felìx and Aera outside, his muffled shouts fading into the background as the limousine pulled away, leaving them to their own devices.

Piérre continued humming to himself contentedly, his thoughts reflecting on the recent events.

Although blowing up the gambling den had been a loss, disposing of the people within had undoubtedly been quite satisfying.

However, he couldn't shake off a sense of disappointment that the fun had ended so abruptly when Espen had left.

It had been a while since he had encountered someone from AZALEAS, but he was confident that another opportunity would arise sooner or later.

As Piérre glanced out the window, his attention shifted to the passing scenery.

He wonders who truly was checkmated at the end; Her or Him.

"Hm, Maybe.."

[yeonsols-garden]

Yeonwoo's Innocence Chapter 131 thouhts

After coming back from the horror that was the last few weeks because of the chapters of his nightmare I tell you I needed this chapter.

I love the fact that she woke him up and she had some semblance of emotion on her face cuz normally her face is just blank which I understand as to why her face is like that all the time but this time I'm happy that she had a look of genuine shock and worry on her face when yeonwoo woke up.

Everything was going well she comforted him things were going well and then poor yeonwoo had to say "being with you right now feel so good" like this boy is digging his own grave. She's already whipped for you. OMG 🤣.

The look on her face when she hugs him is so funny to me like she gone. goone. the fact that she hugs him so tight this time it feels different from all of the other times she hugs him and I was proven RIGHT when she she pulled there faces close almost ....

ALMOST AS IF SHE WANTS TO KISS HIM LIKE OMG YESSSS. . . . . . . Then we got baited. Ya nothing new 😔

NEVER BEEN MORE MAD THAN I WAS IN THAT MOMENT.

Fricken Junhyuk called and ruined the nice ambiance of the couple. Than right before yeonwoo picks up he's like "oh my God what was that atmosphere that we just had" like bro I know you're Innocent but you can't be that innocent. (He is he really is)

Then what makes things even worse is that he literally stands up our girl for his best friend. I REPEAT HIS BEST FRIEND. BRO I KNOW Y'ALL'S RELATIONSHIP IS CLOSE BUT THAT'S YOUR GIRLFRIEND. And she was making advances on you too. Like broooo. That was your chance but you didn't even know.

Anyways when Yeoneoohas to leave to go and meet Junhyuk. Haesol stands they're watching him as he leaves and she's like why do I feel so bad and annoyed. Like girl come on you just got stood up for his best friend you have every right to be annoyed ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU WERE GOING TO KISS HIM.

Then we get to yeonwoo and Junhyuk oh my God these two deserve a whole entire post of their own because what the heck. how can you go from one extreme to the other

JUNHYK PLEASE. One minute he's all over his best friend. Being Buddy Buddy. Thinking things like 'yeonwoo needs me I have to be by his side all the time'. The next minute he's like 'our relationship is unhealthy we can't be friends anymore don't talk to me'. Like are you serious right now you're just going to leave him alone cold turkey no explanation.

I understand that now you understand that you are obsessive and protective over yeonwoo but this is not the way. THIS IS NOT THE WAY. I UNDERSTAND TEENAGERS BUT TALK IT OUT PLEASE USE YOUR WORDS.

Out here causing unnecessary drama and emotional termoil for our baby can you not. He just had to relieve his worst nightmare. 😭

Overall this chapter was full of left hooks, baits some fluff in the middle and then a straight-up punch of Angst right at the end.

To be honest I'm just happy that we're out of that nightmare because man was I pulling my hair out.

[b4n3n4]

Gone Girl

"When I think of my wife, I always think of her head. […] And what’s inside it. I think of that too: her mind. Her brain, all those coils, and her thoughts shuttling through those coils like fast, frantic centipedes. Like a child, I picture opening her skull, unspooling her brain and sifting through it, trying to catch and pin down her thoughts. What are you thinking, Amy? The question I’ve asked most often during our marriage, if not out loud, if not to the person who could answer. I suppose these questions stormcloud over every marriage: What are you thinking? How are you feeling? Who are you? What have we done to each other? What will we do?"

1. Roleplaying ♡

Since meeting her future husband, Nick, Amy knew what she had to do, portray herself as, a "cool girl,” a fake persona used in social events, slightly changing and adapting depending on the situation. Breaking that illusion slowly, changing to a more authentic Amy as Nick started to become lazy on his own, the marriage collapses day by day until she snaps and executes the crucial part of her plan, running away.

After running away, Amy modifies her illusion again to that of a weak innocent white woman who was kidnapped while pregnant. On the other hand her husband, Nick, also portrays himself as someone different, the perfect husband, this was achieved and perfected by Amy since they meet, his illusion was slowly broken until the point of no return (Amy finding out about the cheating with Andie), after Amy is reported missing Nick is suspected as Amy's killer due to his lies being exposed, he finds himself shape-shifting back to the "perfect husband" for his own sake.

2. Following the steps ♡

Nick mirrors the image of his dad, growing up with the fear of showing emotion or any kind of "feminine" characteristics, showing himself as self-centered and uncaring, constantly reminding himself of his father's words "Men don't cry" his daddy issues also make him a chronic people pleaser. Here comes into play the Madone-Whore complex we see in Nick: women are either saints with every virtue and a pure soul or prostitutes; it is the complete lack of empathy for the female gender, regarding women as objects of admiration or utter disgust, stripping them away from their complexity and humanity.

During the search for Amy Nick realizes how much his upbringing impacted his life, stating "I needed a child. I had to know that I could love a person unconditionally […] That I could be a different kind of father than my dad was. That I could raise a boy who wasn't like me". He understands that he has been behaving subconsciously like his father and ends up giving up his freedom(staying with Amy) to protect and raise his baby(unlike his father). On the other hand, Amy's parents marriage mirrors her own, a mask marrying a mask, their marriage was all built around the image of perfection for outsiders, having the same standards applied to Amy since her birth, her whole childhood being compared to the ideal version of herself(Amazing Amy)and the fear of not meeting those expectations "I can't fail to notice that whenever I screw something up, Amy does it right.”

3. Estrangement ♡

The big move from NYC to North Carthage had a deep impact on Amy, growing in the fast-paced, crowded, and cosmopolitan Big Apple. Amy's whole life shifts mood when they move back to Nick's hometown, marked by economic devastation and recession. Amy feels left out, like she does not belong there, reminding herself of the cuckoo clock she was gifted, something bustling with life and noise that belonged back in NYC that now feels trapped in their new home's quiet and depressing ambiance. This change in the environment also marks a shift in the tone of their marriage, with Nick becoming lazy, depending on Amy, as he used to depend on his mom as a kid, and Amy getting so fed up that her illusion starts to crack.

4. Unreliable narration ♡

The whole novel explores this idea of media sensationalism: everyone is an unreliable narrator, in the story and out of the story, even what is told to us. While characters often lie to each other throughout the novel we also get lied to, Amy's diary is a perfect example that fiction is not only written in Amazing Amy's books but also what information is given to us about what is going on, both Amy and Nick present their story in an untruthful way, This narrative technique not only adds suspense but also highlights how easily perceptions can be manipulated in relationships.

The media in the novel also does this; while Nick is not the culprit of Amy's disappearance, the whole country is led to believe so, media warps and shifts the focus of some aspects to press their point. Like Punch and Judy, the story is played by everyone like a puppet show; everyone is a mask on stage, portraying a certain role. Our life is a show, and the book is very much aware of this, making a satire of itself and media awareness.

5. Masks ♡

As stated before, everyone focuses on illusions and what the outside thinks. As Nick is portraying himself as the perfect husband again so the media believes his innocence, Amy sees a glimpse of the old illusion in him and regains faith in the relationship, don't get this wrong, she doesn't believe he changed his ways, all that matters to her is the illusion she is trying to portray, the perfect married couple

6. Cool Girl ♡

Like Amy describes it:

"Cool girl. Men always use that, don’t they? As their defining compliment. She’s a Cool girl. Cool girl is hot. Cool girl is game. Cool girl is fun. Cool girl never gets angry at her man. She only smiles in a chagrin-loving manner and then presents her mouth for fucking."

Amy knows that she plays a role, changing herself for others, having no actual sense of self (which is ironic since she writes personality quizzes for a living), shape-shifting, and dumbing herself to fit the role until she can no longer do it. The breaking of the cool girl is the unleashing of female rage; the unfairness of having to maintain a fake persona in a new place where she feels lost, while her husband broke his fake persona long ago, cheating and disregarding all of her emotions; and the gender roles that pressure women into being hollow objects in fear of complete disregard for their humanity, unable to speak her mind, and forced to accept the sheep mentality as their gender is only viewed as worthy when it is seen as pure.

Amy has become a small icon in the subculture of femcels, focusing on a deep dislike of males and the gender roles pressured in society. She reversed the predator/prey dynamics to benefit herself, using her white female status to seem innocent after committing such crimes.

Although her actions have caused deep pain to some unfortunate innocent characters like Go, her unborn baby, and even Desi, we have to take a look at the overall story as a sort of manifesto and not so literal. Amy represents the perfect female power fantasy to many readers or viewers of Gone Girl, being able to snap and take revenge when we cannot.

i might be insane

[agirlwithbigdreamsforher]

TRUTH OR DARE

THE NANNY: ONE SHOT

TRUTH OR DARE

Pairing: Andy Barber x Annie Johnson (OFC)

Summary: Just an innocent game between my favorite couple.

Warnings: It’s porn, ok?

A/N: none.

Word count: 1471

Disclaimer: I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, used, translated nor reposted anywhere else but here on this blog. Do not steal what you didn’t work for. Minors and ageless blank blogs don’t interact with me or my works. Reblogs and likes are always welcome. Thank you for reading this work of fiction.

GIF’s not mine, you can find the credits in it:) 

And I know the character in the gif is not Andy, but I needed a smirk from him and you know Andy doesn’t smile much!

                                     ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

“I’m gonna check on the kids. Need anything, honey?”

“Just a glass of water, please.”

Andy walked downstairs. Jake and Luis were having a sleepover in the living room, which by now looked like a war zone, toys scattered all over the place, half empty bags of chips and empty juice boxes. The light of the TV was only illuminating the space and the loud sound of the movie filling the ambiance.

“Guys, turn down the volume, I’m sure the whole neighborhood can hear you.” Andy passed by and towards the kitchen to grab Annie’s glass of water. The volume of the TV was still the same, “Guys!” Andy walked into the living room, both kids were on their sleeping bags fully asleep. Andy just shook his head, took the remote and turned the TV off.

He walked back to his room.

“How are the kids?” Annie asked sitting straight on the bed.

“Sleeping.” Andy walked towards the bed, “here’s your water. Ready for a movie?”

“Hmmm, not really. Let’s do something different tonight.”

“Like what?” Andy said climbing on his side of the bed.

“I don’t know, just because is Friday doesn’t mean we always have to watch a movie.”

“So, what do you suggest?”

“I don’t know.” They stayed in silence for a while. “Oh! Let’s do truth or dare!”

“What are you? Five?”

“It’ll be fun! It’ll be like having our own slumber party.”

“Fine.” Andy sighed, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth!” Annie replied excited.

“Boring!” Annie lifted her brow, “Ok, ammm let me think.” After a couple of seconds Andy spoke, “Do you love me?”

“Of course I do! That’s a silly question.”

“Just checking. I want dare.” Andy said all confident.

“I dare you to kiss me.”

“Pff, done!”

Andy leaned in and kiss her lips, softly at first and then a bit more eager, but Annie broke the kiss.

“Easy there.” She gave him a peck.

“Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Hmmm,” Andy thought for a moment when a dark idea came to his mind. “I dare you to go to the closet and change your clothes for the sexiest thing you own.”

“What?” Annie looked down at the t-shirt she was wearing, “But I’m comfortable in this.”

“You wanted to play this game, if you don’t do it you’ll lose.”

Annie sighed, stood up and walked to the closet closing the doors behind her. It was about 10 minutes later and Andy was still waiting.

“Honey! Come on!”

Right at that moment the closet doors opened, Annie was standing right there wearing a white lace teddy completely see through; Andy could see her nipples and the small tuft of hair between her legs. She gave a little twirl, the thong stuck between her butt cheeks.

“When…” Andy said, “How…” Andy shut his mouth again, “Why haven’t I seen this before?”

“It’s new, I was planning to wear it for a special night, but you came up with that dare so.”

“You look so hot, honey. Come here.” Andy said while he followed her staring at her nipples poking against the lace.

She walked to the bed and sat down on her side of the bed. “You’re next, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to stop looking at my tits!”

“Then I want truth!” Andy said playfully.

“Ok!” She thought for a bit, “Have you like, ammm you know before we started dating, have you thought about me in other ways than just Jake’s nanny?”

Andy giggled, “Yes, a few times.”

“Did you ever touch yourself at the thought of me?” Annie asked.

“Ah! You only get to ask one question per turn.” Andy leaned in and kiss her neck, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Have you touched yourself thinking about me?” Andy ask curiously.

“Yes.”

“When was the first time?”

“Hey! You said one question per turn!”

“Just answer the question.”

“I was in the shower, and,” All of the sudden Annie went shy, “ammm.”

“Keep going.”

“I was still with Daniel,” Andy just stared at her in shock, “Don’t judge me!”

“I’m not!”

“Anyways! I was in the shower and then you just pop in my head, because I remember that day I saw how you lose your tie in front of me and then I felt really hot thinking about your arms and your lips, I just wonder how your lips were to feel against my skin, on my breast.”

Andy was hard by now, listening to Annie confessed how she first touch herself at the thought of him.

“And you came?” Andy asked and she nodded. “Good!” Truth or dare?”

“It’s my turn to ask that!”

“Argh, alright! Truth.” Andy said a bit annoyed.

“Do you have any fantasies?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Which ones?”

“Double question, your honor.”

“You are not playing fair, Andy!” she pouted.

“I let you ask again.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Are you turn on?” Annie said lifting her brow.

“Fuck, yes.” Andy answered frankly and Annie laughed. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to show me how you touched yourself that day.”

“Ok,” Annie said in a whisper and laid down. “I just…”

“Relax, it’s just me.”

She nodded and her right hand went south in between her legs, she could feel her wetness through the fabric. She touched her clit over the fabric using her index and middle finger, a small whimper leaving her lips. Her left hand went to her breast and squeezed it lightly. She closed her eyes and kept making circles on her button for a while, when she felt Andy’s hands on her tummy. She opened her eyes and look up at Andy.

“You are doing so well.” He said with a husky voice. “Truth or dare?”

“It’s not…” another whimper left her mouth, “Your turn.” Andy kept staring at her, his hand began to caress her tight. “Dare!”

“I dare you to let me film you.”

“No, Andy.” Andy placed his hand on her pussy and gave it a small slap. “Oh fuck!”

“You know you want to, come on.” Annie didn’t answer, “If you let me film you, I’ll help you come.”

“Yes, please!”

Andy grabbed his phone and moved to be laid in between her legs, the fabric was damp by now.

“Look at you,” Andy pull the fabric and the little buttons there opened revealing her glistening folds to him, “So fucking pretty.” He open the camera on his phone and began recording. His finger touching her slit gathering the wetness there. His middle finger circle her entrance for a moment and then he push his digit inside.

“Oh my god!” Annie moan as Andy began to pump his finger in and out of her slowly.

“You like that, baby?”

“Mhm!”

“Use your words.”

“Yes!”

Andy was focus recording how his finger disappear in her warm hole.

“Truth or… fuck! Dare?” Annie said.

“Hehehe, dare.”

“Eat my pussy, now!” Andy didn’t waste time and put his lips around her clit. “Holy shit!” Andy put his phone away and move his tongue to her hole sticking it in, “Oh, Andy!” Annie’s hand went to the back of Andy’s head pushing him against her slit, feeling Andy’s tongue and lips lapping at her juices like a starved man “yes, fuck, YES!” Annie moaned feeling her orgasm running through her body. Her tights were trembling and her chest was heaving.

Andy look at her pussy still clenching around nothing. He discarded his clothes, took his erection in hand, pumped it a few times and shove his dick in her pussy.

“FUCK!” They both cursed.

“You feel so fucking warm, baby.” Andy bottom out feeling her pussy clenched around his cock.

“Andy, please.”

“Please, what?”

“Move, please.”

“You wish is my command.”

Andy began slamming hard against her pussy. The sound of his balls slapping against her ass. He was always mesmerized at the way she could take him all. How his dick disappeared inside her and how little by little his dick started to get creamy with her juices.

“Such a good girl. Creaming daddy’s cock.” Andy moaned, “You like that, baby?”

“Yes, daddy! Please, don’t stop!”

His pace increase, feeling her walls tighten. His put his thumb on her clit and began rubbing it hard. Annie’s moans were louder by the minute.

“Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. I’m right behind you, cum.”

Annie moaned as she came hard around Andy’s dick. His hot and thick load filling her up. Andy fell on top of her and rolled to his side, heavy breathing his body covered in a thin sheet of sweat.

After a couple of minutes Andy spoke, “Do you wanna know a truth?” Annie just hummed, “I fucking love you.”

Annie moved to lay her head on his chest, “I love you too, Andy.”