sorry, they're still on my brain hkgkf. But I'm honestly obsessed with whatever tf Eleanor and Theo have going on

They're in love, they're divorced, they're terribly jealous of eachother, Eleanor wants to kill theo, Eleanor desperately wants to run away with her, they've only known eachother a week, they can't stand eachother, they care about eachother so much, they're full of resentment, they want to have a picnic together

me making another ship playlist, this time for one im literally the only person who cares about <3333 love being a self indulgent shipper

Round 1 of preliminaries, group 14

The first two places get a place on the bracket

Little reminder: there will be 2 more rounds of preliminaries, the losing blorbos of this poll still have 2 chances of getting in the official bracket

Propaganda under the cut

Oz Vessalius (Pandora Hearts)

"Struggles with self-worth, adores books, ADHD (though that’s not canon—but he fits the diagnostic criteria), his strongest/most important relationships are platonic"

Sound (My School President)

"Lonely gay teenager who tries to be cool and sauve but gets adopted against his will by a group of losers and then falls for one of the losers who gets on his nerves a lot because he was nice to him once and then he gets all awkward and flustered around the boy and tries to avoid him and antagonize him but the boy sees through it and they eventually end up together and he becomes the most annoying person in love ever"

Luz Noceda (The Owl House)

"adhd. possibly some autism too. a weird girl who got outcasted by being herself and sure has some WACK coping mechanisms to deal with it. self worth is IN THE DRAIN. gnc and not straight. writes fanfic. artist. goes through a depression era when at her moms house. loves her mom also. this is canon stuff i'm saying"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA she is so ASDHSUJD. Okay I started watching the owl house because I knew there was a WLW couple, so obviously I had to check it out. But upon watching the show, I got so emotionally connected to it, or moreso the protagonist, Luz, that it could go beyond some people's understandings... I remember that almost any scene showing her neurodivergent traits would hit SO. CLOSE. HOME. It would be unbelievable. I literally rewatched the show more than seventeen times one summer. She is just so goshdarn relatable man. She's the weird kid, has no friends, loves making anime edits, is OBSESSED with a book series, loves witches and magic and stuff, has ADHD, an attention span that is so high when she's engaging with something she likes doing and so low when she's bored. She's just so lovely. I know a lot of people found her annoying in season one but she hit close home to me. Season two was amazing as well and she started getting even MORE relatable!! She started showing her people pleasing, how much she blames herself, it was so sad but I was glad to see a character I could relate to so much on screen. I mean i personally didn't experience the loss of my father and I personally do have one friend whom I'm able to share my life with, but she's still super relatable. She can be so silly and so cool. And her impulsivity and the way she realized she doesn't know what she wants to do when she grows up also hit close home. Mwah"

Gundham Tanaka (Super Danganronpa 2)

"Goth autistic theater kid"

Saiki Kusuo (Saiki Kusuo no Psi Nan/The Disastrous Life of Saiki K)

"He's very dead inside, especially in the English Dub, and introverted. But even so, he cares a lot for his friends, even if he never says it to them and he finds them annoying most of the times. He also be nosey and just insert himself into others' situations that don't involve him (obviously, he makes it so that nobody knows he's there and, obviously, he's also complaining about this all the time). He's canonically aroace, or at least aroace spec He's canonically trans. He was born as a girl but he didn't like it so he immediately turned himself into a boy with his psychic powers. An argument could be made about him being on the autism spectrum."

Drew (The Music Freaks)

"I don't like him actually I hate him and love him st the same time in fact but. This man is so real and such a horrible jerkwad to everyone around him. I mean I can't relate to THAT but I should mention he also gets jelous easily, he is in love with his best friend who does not like him back, he's all moody and grouchy and bratty. And so am I and I hate it lol."

Is it possible to choose whether we want to have a rivals to lovers relationship with Liam or with Sienna. Is it possible to kiss Hazel? Where are Felicity and Rachel? The writers came up with the stupid podcast concept to give hetero players a new male LI but sapphics only get two options to pick from? From what I have heard MC is forced to kiss a man no matter what answers we give. 

There are ten male LIs. Sapphics aren't even an afterthought. I will burst into flames if the company makes a Pride post on their socials to promote their game. I want the Fusebox superfans who keep saying that the writers can't find a way to add more female LIs during the season because the show is heteronormative to explain to me why they can't add new female LIs once the show is over and everyone is hooking up with everyone. 

Please don't tell me that one kiss with Hazel would have been a disastrous waste of money. Het players get to romance every trashy man under the sun but sapphics can't choose which character we want to romance. Liam has a threesome with Bea and Hazel. Why would any woman with an ounce of self respect throw herself at the man who took advantage of her trust. Sapphics can't even have one kiss with the girl that we find the most attractive once the season is over? This has to be some sick incel revenge fantasy. The writers must really hate women to turn all the female characters into delusional playthings for the boys. There's no other explanation. There was not a single real female friendship. Everything about this reunion volume was disgusting. I'm surprised the story doesn't end up with polar bear jumping out of the bushes and mauling all the female characters. It'd have made just as much sense as Bea and Hazel fulfilling all of Liam's white boy fantasies. Because women of color are once again written to be toys for the sexist white man to entertain himself with before he confesses his feelings for the main character

we have the exact same thoughts ! this season bothered me for so many different reasons, i was gonna make a final thoughts post but i couldn't articulate it right (and rlly just didn't want to waste time on overthinking this shit lol) the main thing is i'm getting the vibe that someone involved with litg is ... idk, an incel with some sort of fetish for women being humiliated. genuinely wtf is up with all the season 5 islander sexcapades being shoehorned into the plot ??? 🙃

(and for real, there could've easily been a scene where liam & sienna both approach MC, the player chooses one to have a platonic convo with, & then get the "enemies to lovers" proposition if you choose to flirt with them first. i personally wouldn't have picked sienna over clauds, but it would've been nice to actually have choices in an interactive story game. unfortunately that's too much to ask for, since FB fired everyone that actually knew how to code) one could argue it'd make no sense for sienna to be an LI since she had no character development, but shit, neither did liam

and i have no idea why felicity wasn't there, in fact, i don't think she was even mentioned ? not bothering to create sprites for the other off-screen islanders is one thing, but she has a sprite. the two casa guys who didn't make it to the villa still showed up, so there's no reason why she couldn't have . it's just one of those things that further show that FB put zero thought into this reunion. the plot was all over the place and there's so many problems that it'd be impossible to list them all in one post. if bella's sprite wasn't in the files ahead of time i would've been convinced FB created this pile of shit the literal day before it was released

indeed, you're forced to kiss a guy during the game (it's already ridiculous enough that we were forced to play that, but if i had to kiss anybody i would've rather kissed hazel than any of the dudes...) i've read some people say that wlw players were "lucky" that we didn't get the liam conversation where you're forced to pick a guy (it's because bea is automatically the secondary LI) but we really aren't ... there was a point where i considered just sticking with jin so i could play the game without bursting a blood vessel. i know that loyal OG LI romancers had a miserable time as well, but on a claudia route your relationship is constantly belittled, disrespected, & worst of all centered around the guys you both used to be with. even at the damn reunion

i believe the threesome was with sienna? but i'd rather eat gravel than do a replay to confirm that. either way, your point about hazel and bea being reduced to objects for a white dude is 100% correct, it's so horrible

not to mention if both sienna and hazel are canonically interested in women in some capacity, why the hell were they not LIs? genuinely the only thing this showed me is that FB thinks straight men sexualising sapphic women is acceptable. i will also be bursting into flames if they have the audacity to make a pride post after this (they really didn't learn from the backlash they got from seduction games, that story on the matchmaker app where the canonically hetero MC considers pretending to be bi to "excite" a man 🙄)

i really miss when FB actually wrote multi-faceted characters, literally every single woman this season except (romanced) claudia & bea was "no thoughts head empty," just delusional, mean, goofy as hell, one dimensional, victims of plot induced stupidity, lacking common sense, lacking an understanding of consent. bombastic side eye, criminal offensive side eye

it doesn't help that the game makes it very clear you're "meant to" follow a certain path, and when you don't, it ruins the girls even more. in my playthrough i saved emel because she was sweet and i liked her personality...only for her to immediately become a clone of sophie, to the point that game literally acted like the things that happened to sophie before she was dumped (e.g. getting voted for all the bad categories in that couple challenge) happened to emel . i would say "idk how FB could possibly screw up this badly," but i already know it's because they're creating these seasons in a maximum of four months. hell, i wouldn't be surprised if it was just one singular month. absolutely zero proofreading or quality assurance testing in sight luv

gonna wrap it up here before i start writing a whole novel, but i will say: as a black queer player i'm honestly just sad about how FB continuously fucks up lgbt & poc representation 😪 at the end of the day "it's just a game," and all, but i'm still disappointed. we really deserve better😭

Hey, would you happen to have lore receipts for Drifter being bi? Just curious, it’s been a while since I read trough his lore :) I would also add Petra to the list of gays as well, while not confirmed, she’s heavily implied to be in love with Mara.

Oh yeah, Petra! 100% wlw and heavily implied to be in love with Mara. Awoken just be like that.

On to Drifter, yes! He is my blorbo and he is the best.

First, we know he likes women because he very obviously had (still has?) a thing for Orin. He also tried flirting with Lady Efrideet (disastrous result). And he very obviously likes Eris. To what extent, we can't tell, but he enjoys her company and has explicitly said that he likes how "freakyx she is. He also most recently dedicated time to make her a nice meal in seasonal armour (Eidolon Pursuant set).

The other hints are in how he talks about certain things in general. For example:

And you know me. I like to keep some folk close—real close. I feel somebody's hand on my throat, I figure they're about to kill me or kiss me.

Personally, I like to keep my options open.

It doesn't specify gender!

Also this:

"Had a face like the end-times and eyes like manna in the desert. One look at him, and I knew I wasn't gonna be saved."

Who is this man whose eyes he's complimenting? (probably Shin)

More directly though, he's very openly flirting with men for no reason and out of nowhere, as well as using as much innuendo as possible while he talks.

His first target? Zavala. These lines from Arrivals for example. He's so direct when asking if Zavala came to see him because he's special. Like, hello? Also this absolutely bonkers innuendo about Zavala he sent to Ikora (from Witch Queen CE book):

Hey Ikora,

Did you sign off on this? Zavala ordered a search of my ship to get samples of my plants? "There are known similarities between your vessel's infestation and the growths aboard the derelict Glykon Volatus." Tell the big guy that if he wants to get at my garden, he'd better start pounding some Primevals.

Transmat firing,

D

I think that's as far as they could've gone with that one without crossing the ratings line.

And my fave for last. So, there's a lore book about Ada-1 making the loom for transmog and at one point she visits Rahool for help. And he explains that it will take a long time to search for things she needs so she asks if she can search herself. And then:

Rahool shook his head. "Access to the classified archives is limited to sanctioned Guardians, Tower support staff, or the Vanguard themselves. You are none of those things."

Ada scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, I've seen that Drifter perusing this data on a weekly basis for his own amusement."

"That's not— there's no way—" Rahool stammered and blushed. "I assure you, no such breach has occurred."

I'm sorry, but nobody will ever convince me that this isn't confirmation that Rahool and Drifter are hooking up and Rahool is giving him access to the Cryptarchy archives.

The way this is written is beyond funny. First, Ada practically lives next to Drifter and she says she's SEEN him using the archives. So she has personally seen something going on between Drifter and Rahool. On a weekly basis.

And then also Rahool "stammering and blushing." That's fanfic level acknowledgement. Why would he stammer and blush if he didn't allow it? Wouldn't he be angry about it and ask that Ada tell him all she knows right away so that he can report Drifter? Nope. He's stammering and blushing. Case closed.

In conclusion, Drifter likes dangerous women who can snap him in half and Awoken men. I don't blame him.

Additionally, something I like very much, a certain bounty you can take for Gambit:

The text changes depending on your character's gender. This is the text for the female Guardian, but if you're on a male Guardian, he'll say it the other way around with king/queen.

Drifter says trans rights!

I made a post about having wlw ships with one taller than the other AND I'M ONLY NOW REALIZING THIS APPLIES TO IMANI AND AELITA.

Anyway, Imani x Aelita x Ren stuff cause I'm in a mood.

Aelita and Imani hyping Ren up in his glasses( they give him little kisses)

Imani stitching together Ren's cape ( has a hidden little heart)

Aelita is strong enough to carry both of them in her arms.

Baking buddies! ( Disastrous)

In general, Imani learns that going to her friends when she has a really bad nightmare helps her pass the night, but with Ren and Aelita the cuddles are sublime

Ren likes hearing Imani talk about literally whatever. If it's him who can't sleep, he would just go to her and let her talk until he falls asleep.

Speaking of which, because the above, Ren has more knowledge about fashion and clothing design than he did before. He would casually quote Imani sometimes, which would scare Reina lol.

Because Ren spends so much time in a cyborg body, when he's not in one he gets cold a bit more easily. Good thing he has two gfs to hold him and keep him warm.

Imani is constantly putting flower pins in Aelita's hair lol.

They often go jogging together! Imani can be a little slow but Aelita is patient.

Imani has taken the two on one of her side quests once. They all agree it would be the last.

Just more cuddles. Cause of course.

Ariana and the others have definitely teased poor Imani on Ren and Aelita.

Oh, much like Ren, Imani likes hearing Aelita talk. From strategies as the leader of their group of just whatever she wants.

Oh!!! Very important. Aelita and Imani have definitely stolen Ren's cape before. Mostly Imani.

I think it’s kinda neat that Kirino and their ex are both busy performing gender in Smells Like Green Spirit, but it’s not something that the work explicitly draws attention to. i mean... the ex is introduced on screen for a crude gag (wooo the gay MC is about to have sex with a naked lady and barfs instead!), and we can only extrapolate about her relationship with her gender from crumbs.

imo Mishima’s internal narration kinda suggests that the ex is performing a certain aspect of femininity ("she’s the kind of girl who knows how cute she is and uses it to her advantage") and there’s also the whole thing about the ex lying about having never slept with anyone before.

meanwhile, the manga directly shows us Kirino’s gender performance: she’s keeping up her front as a “mature, masculine” figure in front of everyone, and the only time she indulges in femininity (switching to feminine speech patterns, wearing makeup etc) is when she’s in her safe space on the rooftop with Mishima. she shows real regret about how the relationship with her ex ended up (“I hurt her and we broke up”) while acknowledging that she’s never going to desire her as a cishet guy would (“looking back I only liked her face, only because it was the kind of face that I wanted for myself”)

i think the act of them sleeping together was significant to both of them as well? Kirino becomes certain of her queer identity after the experience (whereas prior to the experience she was hoping that dating + sleeping with a girl would mean that she’s really a cishet guy after all). while the motivation for the ex lying about being a virgin after the experience is a lot more vague, my personal interpretation is that being a virgin conforms to the ‘sweet cute girl’ ideal that the ex’s persona is built on, esp after a... demoralizing sexual experience, spurring on a need to double-down on the ‘ideal sweet/cute girl’ persona (and tbh, having your ex puke right after you guys did it is pretty traumatizing, so maybe she just wants to pretend it never happened)

their respective ending scenes are also an interesting contrast: Kirino chose to maintain a relationship with her mother over breaking things off to come out, and ends the series living as a man with a wife and kid(s), though seemingly content with life. in contrast, the last we see of the ex is a brief panel of her going up to another girl being all “ugh boys are THE WORST, I’m gonna go out with girls from now on!” after a disastrous attempt to sleep with the gay MC (who she doesn't know is gay). I know that it’s just a throwaway joke—though she never shows up again, so there's nothing to say she didn't start dating women—but it’s still kinda interesting that she makes her exit bringing up the possibility of pursuing a queer relationship, whereas Kirino conforms to a cishet façade (tho in my heart of hearts she’s in a wlw relationship with her wife)

*Kirino’s pronouns: I personally read Kirino as a transwoman (because of the ecstatic starry-eyed look she has after knowing she could use feminine speech around Mishima, and the fact that she mentions wanting to get a sex-change surgery/become a girl), so i’ve used she/her here. others have interpreted Kirino as a feminine gay man, which i think is also a valid interpretation

iirc Kirino is using あたし here, which is extremely feminine and considered sweet/cutesy. (also look at that face!)

Snickerdoodles

Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader, Baker!AU + Friends to Lovers

Chapter 2 of Made With Love

Word Count: 3,198

Chapter Warnings: so sweet it’ll give you a cavity, some not so subtle wlw yearning from the reader, and a brief little moment of angst that will make you want to hug Wanda

A/N: A special thank you to @thefallenbibliophilequote for giving this a beta read for me! Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

You were sitting at home watching TV when your phone lit up with a text notification from Wanda. You smiled and leaned over to grab your phone. 

Bucky is asking about chocolate chip cookies again. He’s driving me nuts!

You chuckled at the message as you typed out a reply, I’m not sure if I should be flattered or annoyed for your sake at how persistent he is. Though, we should probably take it as a sign you’re due for another baking lesson. How do snickerdoodles sound? 

Wanda agreed almost immediately and the two of you worked out a time for later that week. 

Mindlessly, you scrolled back up and started rereading some of your old conversations. It had been just over two weeks since Wanda had found her way into the bakery and made her disastrous batch of chocolate chip cookies. She had texted you not long after she left the bakery that night and the two of you had texted sporadically since. Her texts had started off very polite, if not outright formal. 

Hi. It’s Wanda. I know I sound like a broken record, but I really do appreciate what you did today.

That had been her first message. Since then, the messages gradually became more casual. Most recently she had sent you a video Sam had recorded of Bucky begging her to make cookies on their flight home from a mission with nothing more than a series of eye-roll emojis. 

It was strange having a superhero take time out of her day to text you. Though, you couldn't deny the fact that each time she did, it left you grinning like an idiot. It’s not that you think poorly of yourself or that you thought you weren’t worthy of being friends with someone like her; it had far more to do with how unexpected it was. In fact, the whole process of meeting her was unexpected. How many other people alive were lucky enough to say that an Avenger casually walked into their kitchen asking to bake cookies? 

And how many people could say they had anyone, let alone an Avenger, smile at them the way Wanda smiled at you? 

You groaned at your own stupidity and forced yourself to put your phone down. That was enough ridiculousness for the day. You didn’t need to feed into this silly little crush you were developing. Wanda was your friend, nothing more. 

It was three days later when Wanda finally walked back into the bakery. She stepped inside right as you finished tying your apron around your waist. You greeted her with a bright smile, which she returned in kind. 

“Hey, how has your day been?” you asked. 

She shrugged, “It’s been a day but something tells me it’s about to get better.” 

You tried not to show how flustered her words made you and rushed over to the sink to wash your hands. Wanda stood next to you and waited patiently for her turn. While she was washing her hands, you started speaking. 

“Okay so, snickerdoodles are the best cookies in existence and are stupid easy to make. Most of the process is similar to what we did for chocolate chip cookies, but there are a few differences. Why don’t we start off with having you refamiliarize yourself with where everything is in here?” You hand her the recipe you had written out for her, “Here you go. Grab everything you can find.”

Wanda read through the list carefully and was soon rummaging through the cabinets. She set each ingredient on the counter next to you as she found it until it looked like she had most of her items, but she kept pausing to reread the list. Her eyebrows were furrowed together as she turned to look back into the fridge, only to come back to the counter empty-handed.

 Her expression was a mixture of confusion and determination at the same time as her eyes focused on the ingredient list. It shouldn’t have been as cute as it was, but you couldn’t help but stare at the woman in front of you. It was almost shocking how green they were. Even when sad, her eyes were filled with warmth and kindness. Her mouth twisted slightly and drew your attention downwards. Were they naturally that pink? Or had she lucked out and found the most perfect shade of pink lipstick? They looked so soft and plump too, perfect lips for kissing...

You snapped back into focus as she said your name. “I’m sorry what was that? My mind drifted.”

She smiled and repeated herself. “The only things I’m missing are Crisco and cream of tartar. I looked in the fridge for the cream of tartar, but I didn’t see it and I have no idea where to begin with Crisco.”

You nodded as you walked towards one of the cabinets, opening it up as you began to speak. “I like your reasoning behind the cream of tartar, but unfortunately its name is a bit misleading. It’s a powder so it’s in the same cabinet as the cinnamon and sugar. The Crisco is up here too.”

You grabbed both items and set them next to the rest of the ingredients. Wanda picked up the can of Crisco and looked at it curiously. 

“What is vegetable shortening?” she asked. She opened up the can and stared at the white solid inside. “It almost looks like butter, but it’s also so white it almost looks like plastic?” The confusion on her face perfectly matched the confusion that seeped into her voice. 

You nodded along as she spoke, “It’s kind of like butter, which you can also use for this recipe if you wanted to. I think they turn out better when you make them with Crisco personally so I’ll only use butter if I’m in a pinch.

“Okay, so now we’re going to measure out two cups of Crisco into the mixer and start creaming it. From there we’ll gradually start adding in the sugar, cream of tartar, salt, and baking soda.”

Wanda nodded and got to work. As she scooped out the Crisco and smushed it into the measuring cup, she made a face that had you grinning.

“What’s with the look?”

She made it again as she continued working. “Don’t laugh at me, but it feels funny. I know it’s not that different from butter, but I usually don’t have to touch butter this much to figure out the amount! It’s gross.”

You didn’t laugh but continued to grin for the entire time she measured out the Crisco. A sigh of relief left her as she finally finished with the Crisco and got to wash her hands.

“These better be the best cookies on the planet after making me touch that,” she said, giving you a teasing look.

A sheepish smile spread across your face as she spoke. “I hate to tell you this...but you’re going to end up touching the cookie dough again. Like, you are going to be touching it a lot.” You cut off her groan and continued to the next step in the recipe, “Now we’re going to add the eggs and milk.” 

She nodded and began measuring out how much milk she needed. Once that was done, the eggs were added in and she turned the mixer back on. She waited a few minutes before turning the mixer back off. “Time for the flour now, yes?” she asked, turning to face you. You nodded and she began measuring it out.

After the last of the flour was added, she reached for the switch on the mixer.

Before you even thought to remind her to start slow, the mixer was going full speed and flour was flying everywhere. Wanda rushed to turn it off but by the time she did, she was covered head to toe in a dusting of flour. 

She stared over at you with wide eyes for a moment before bursting out laughing. 

You had heard her laugh before, but never like this. This was full-bellied, tears running down her face laughter. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Hell, you were willing to bet it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever be fortunate enough to hear. Soon you were laughing along with her.

Each time the laughter started to die, Wanda looked down at her clothing and burst out laughing all over again. It took almost five minutes for the two of you to calm down enough to even start to think about getting back to the cookies. 

“Well, I guess I’m doing laundry after this.” She shook her head rapidly and more flour came floating down off her hair, making her giggle. “And I think a shower might also be in order.” 

You started laughing again at her words. “We’ll have to get you an apron to help protect your clothes. Though, if you keep turning a mixer on to full speed like that it still won’t do you much good,” you teased. 

Wanda stuck out her tongue in response before slowly starting the mixer back up. She stared into the bowl as the flour began to mix in with the rest of the ingredients and her face twisted.

“How do we know that there’s enough flour still in there with how much just flew out?” 

You just shrugged, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. If it’s too sticky when we start trying to form the balls we’ll add in some more.”

The dough mixed for another couple of minutes before Wanda turned it off. You leaned over and pinched off a tiny piece of the dough and rolled it around in your hands before popping it into your mouth. 

A satisfied hum left your mouth and you nodded enthusiastically. “It’s perfect,” you said. “No need for anything extra.” You reached into a drawer and grabbed two spoons before handing one to Wanda. 

“So what we’re going to do now is roll them into small little balls about an inch in size. Once they’re as round as we can get them, we’re going to roll them around in the cinnamon and sugar.” You gestured towards the two bowls in front of you. “Any questions?”

Wanda shook her head no and the two of you got to work.

It didn’t take long for Wanda to get the hang of making the individual rolls and coating them evenly in the cinnamon and sugar mixture. A comfortable silence fell over you as the first batch was placed on the baking trays.

“So, what made you want to become a baker?”

You smiled as you answered, “My parents both cooked a lot when I was growing up so being in the kitchen is like second nature to me. My dad and I spent a lot of time baking together around the holidays and as I got older, I was put in charge of making whatever treats we wanted. By the time I graduated high school, I couldn’t see myself doing anything else.” Wanda nodded along as you spoke. “What about you? What did you want to be before you became a superhero?” 

“Definitely not a baker,” she teased, a grin spreading across her face. You chuckled and she continued. “I wanted to be a lot of different things, but one of the most consistent things was being an actress. I always thought it would be fun to star in a cheesy sitcom.” 

You grinned at the thought. “You’d make a great sitcom character! Though it would be such a waste of great material if your character could bake. Between the salt last time and the flour just a minute ago, you’ve naturally got some great material right here.” 

“If you don’t stop that, I will throw this cookie dough at you,” she groaned. You wiggled your eyebrows at her words. 

“You know, that has to be one of the least threatening things someone has ever said to me,” you teased. 

She groaned again and changed topics. “So how did you end up working here? It’s not exactly your average place to start looking for a baking job.”

You laughed and nodded along. She had a point, this was a very strange place to work in general but especially for someone who bakes for a living.  “Technically, I don’t actually work for SHIELD. I’m just on loan from Stark Industries. ” She looked over at you curiously so you continued.

“I catered an event once that Tony went to, back in his pre-Iron Man days. He offered me a stupid amount of money to come work for him so I did. Right around the time he started working closely with SHIELD, I had some...creative differences with one of the other bakers he had employed so I was able to transfer over here.” 

Wanda had all but stopped working as you spoke. “What do you mean by ‘creative differences’? How do bakers have creative differences?” 

“It’s more of a euphemism than anything. She was my ex. We broke up and it was just a little rocky working with her after that, you know? We were still professional and all, but there was enough underlying tension that I didn’t hesitate to apply when they told us about this position.” 

She nodded and slowly started working again. A few moments of silence passed before she spoke again. 

“Well, I’m sorry that things didn’t work out between you and her. Breakups are never easy.” Her voice was gentle and honest, which made you smile.

“Nah, don’t be sorry. People don’t work out sometimes and that’s okay.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you continued, “Besides, she thinks snickerdoodles taste better when you make them with butter. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life.”

The two of you burst out laughing and the conversation resumed.

Almost an hour later, six dozen cookies were carefully being set into plastic baggies for Wanda to carry back to the Avengers quarters. Each batch had cooked up perfectly and you couldn’t help but melt at the proud look on Wanda’s face. With every batch that came out just as perfect as the last, her confidence grew until she was smiling so brightly she overpowered everything else in the room. 

As she finished sealing the last bag, a satisfied hum left her and she turned to face you. 

“Once again, I don’t even know where to begin thanking you. Not only for the cookies but for the time we spent together this afternoon. It’s not often that I meet people who treat me like a normal person.” Her voice was dripping with gratitude as she spoke and your face felt hot. 

“Once again,” you teased, mirroring her words, “There is nothing to be thanking me for. I’m always happy to help when and where I can. But, we should probably at least try the cookies first before anything else.”

Wanda nodded enthusiastically and quickly pulled two cookies back out of the baggies. She handed you one before grabbing hers and taking her first bite. 

She let out a satisfied hum as she chewed. “This is the best cookie I have ever tasted in my life,” she mumbled, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she spoke. She paused abruptly and her eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh my god, I’m turning into Bucky!” she groaned, “I did not just moan over a cookie and talk with my mouth full. What is wrong with me?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, if you’re going to moan and talk while you eat because of a cookie, this is the cookie to do it. I do think we’ll have to find something a little more challenging than cookies for you next time, though.”

Her eyes lit up in excitement. “What about bread? Could we do bread next?”

“Six successful batches of cookies and you think you’re ready for bread now, huh?” you teased. 

Wanda took the teasing in stride and responded just as cheekily, “I don’t mean to brag or anything, but I do know how to make the most incredible snickerdoodles and chocolate chip cookies on the planet now. So you better watch out or I might just end up coming for your job.” 

You grinned, “I’d like to see you try.” 

The two of you continued to giggle at each other’s nonsense as Wanda washed her hands and began collecting the bags in her arms. “So, we’ll figure out something soon yeah?” 

You nodded and moved to open the door for her as you spoke. “Definitely! It most likely won’t be bread though, I hate to break it to you.” 

Wanda rolled her eyes dramatically, but the smile on her face showed she was anything but upset. The two of you said your goodbyes and she made her way out of the bakery.

As you crawled into bed that night, you couldn’t help but replay the conversations in your head. Talking with Wanda had been the most exciting social interaction you had in years. She was so genuinely interested in getting to know you and asked you so many questions about yourself, but was never shy about answering questions about herself in turn. 

“So what’s it like being an Avenger?” you asked, unable to hold back your curiosity any longer. 

She paused and shrugged, “Honestly, it’s really not as great as some people make it out to be. I know that I should be grateful for the opportunity to make a difference and for having the ability to keep people safe, but more often than not the bad outweighs the good.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “You don’t always get the bad guys and so many people still accuse me of being one of them. There are always so many cameras pointed at me. Sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe.” 

You nodded, sympathy rising in your chest. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. I know my opinion probably doesn’t count for much, but I don’t think you’re a bad guy; I don’t think you ever really were.”

Her smile was blinding as she replied, “Your opinion means everything.”

That had been one of the more serious moments, though the majority of it had been filled with laughter. At one point, she had started trying to teach you some basic words in Sokovian. You stumbled over the words repeatedly, but she continued to be nothing but patient and supportive. The buzzing of your phone drew your thoughts away from Wanda momentarily, only to see a text from her.

I keep thinking about what you said earlier today. I think you’re right.

You stared at the message with confusion as you hastily typed out a response, I am right, but remind me what I’m right about?

Three dots appeared on the screen then disappeared. A minute later, a message appeared. 

They’re better with Crisco. I haven’t tried them with butter but I don’t need to. You’re also right in that you don’t need the “butter Snickerdoodles are better” negativity in your life. You deserve nothing but the best.

How about married life with Grell headcanons? :3 if you don't mind

Technically, Femslash February is still a few hours away in my time zone...but let’s be real! Every month is Femslash February on this disastrous bisexual blog. XD So, without further ado, here are some married Grelle x fem!Reader headcanons:

I headcanon touch to be one of Grelle's major love languages, so she's extremely cuddly. Lots of snuggles when you're going to sleep together or waking up in the morning, tackling you with impromptu hugs, draping herself over you while you're working at the computer to give you a kiss, holding hands when you're out in public together, etc.

Much like a cat, if she feels you aren't giving her enough attention, she might plop down in your lap and demand affection now!

You share eachother's outfits on a regular basis (though 3/4ths of your closet space at home belongs to Grelle). On lazy days in, Grelle cuddles with you while she's wearing your coziest hoodie.

Since Miss Grelle is most definitely not a morning person, you have to be responsible for making sure she gets to work on time. Sometimes she's a tad grouchy, but your good-morning kisses and the fresh coffee you make her definitely help.

No matter how long you've been together, the sex is still spectacular, and you never cease to be blown away by how stunning and confident your wife is...and how capable she is in bed. ;)

You own a couple of smol white froo-froo dogs like Malteses, Bichon Frises, Lhasa Apsos, etc. (in her confessional, Grelle says she always wanted one). You dote on them like they're your own children, and Grelle hand-sews a bunch of cute little outfits for them. They're always included in family photos, and you often take them on walks or carry them in your purses when you and Grelle go out together.

If you're comfortable with it, Grelle loves taking selfies with you. She just has to show off how dead gorgeous her wife is!

Grelle takes every opportunity she gets to flaunt the fact that she's a married woman. She's definitely the type of spouse who makes sure her wedding ring is on prominent display, or loudly informs the waiter that "I'm here with my darling wife" when you go out to eat.

She messages you throughout your workday. Cute videos of puppies, selfies (some of which are rather NotSFW) she tried out with the latest Snapchat filter, and flirty texts reminding you how much she loves you are all fair game.

You love playing with each other's hair, and you're the only person Grelle trusts to brush it, comb it, braid it, etc. besides herself and her hair stylist.

Grelle teaches you everything she knows about fashion, makeup, and so on, and the two of you turn heads wherever you go.

You're the one in charge of household finances; otherwise, Grelle might tend to overspend on clothes and high heels. XD But you still treat the reaper like a queen and provide her with the lavish lifestyle she deserves.

Much of the decor in your house/apartment is red: Red curtains, red pillows, red carpet, red bedsheets, and much more! You also own a chic red convertible and enjoy taking long rides together, the music blasting and the wind in your hair.

After a long, hard day at work, you and Grelle take a leisurely, rose-scented bubble bath, often with a glass of champagne or two. Things tend to get amorous after that because Grelle is Grelle. ;)

Grelle likes to make cute plushies for you, and you have a whole collection at this point!

Both of you are patrons of the local theatres and opera companies, to the point that you have your own private box to share with your wife.

Although Grelle is doing much better mental health-wise since she transitioned and started therapy, you're always there for her if she has a dysphoric moment or if you need to defend her against creepy transphobes.

Both of you are successful career women, the quintessential wealthy and glamorous wlw aunties.

You attend Pride together every year and are very active within the local LGBTQ+ community.

You keep the spark of romance alive! Grelle has a score of pet names for you and gushes about how beautiful you are; you surprise her with roses or cupcakes you baked for her "just because." Every day, you do your best to make Grelle feel loved. No marriage is perfect, but yours is indisputably a happy one. >w<

Written in The Stars by Alexandria Bellefleur Rating: 4 / 5

Summary: Elle is an astrologer who co owns an account known as Oh My Stars along with her roommate. She is set to close a deal with OTP, a dating app created by one of her friends Brendon. Brendon overhead Elle talking about how hard dating was as a bisexual woman nowadays and decided to set up Elle on a date with his sister Darcy. The date goes disastrously wrong and both Elle and Darcy never want to see each other again. However when Brendon keeps pushing for Darcy to find someone Darcy ends up lying and saying that she and Elle really hit it off. Her plan nearly backfires when Elle finds out what Darcy told her brother, but by a chance of fate they both need a date so they decide to fake a relationship together. Neither of them anticipated how quickly they would end up falling for each other……

Rating: This book did read a bit slow for for the first like three chapters. However once the story and plot were set it started picking up pace. I love learning more about each of the characters as the story progresses. This book is apparently a new take on pride and prejudice, however you don't have to read it to love the story. I've never read pride and prejudice and yet I really enjoyed reading this book. I don't read many contemporary stories simply because they always feel a bit slow for me however this one did a good job of pacing the story once it got past the first three chapters.

What I really loved about this story is that it wasn't centered on overcoming society's expectations, like coming out or homophobia. It was just a story about two girls falling in love. Don't get me wrong i love stories in which the characters struggle with their gender or secual identity due to family or society, but I also love reading cute fluffy romances. Even if it starts out as a fake relationship.

I haven't read many fake relationship trope book but I am not quickly discovering that i love the trope. I love reading how the characters go from having nothing in common to falling in love with each other's different personalities. Learning that maybe the other isn't so bad after all and then having to figure out how to deal with their feelings when the relationship they have is fake. This trope really encourages authors to try hard to get their characters to love each other but also to get the reader's to feel that love, to become engaged in this fake relationship and the characters.

I'm a sucker for character driven stories, i love plot driven stories, but character driven stories just light something up in me. I love reading how the characters develop and progress and how they overcome their own fears and obstacles. There's just something about it that makes me feel happy. It also helps me to root for the characters but also the romance that the characters are working for. Bellefleur did such a great job of making this story a good balance of romance and character driven.

Overall, this book was a delightful holiday read. If you enjoy books that include fake dating tropes, are a fan of pride and prejudice, and/or enjoy contemporary romance books then this is the book for you. This is also, as can be seen from the summary a WlW book so if your queer then definitely read this book and make your queer heart happy. I don't recommend this book if you don't enjoy reading steamy content. Because this book was smutty so be aware of that.

I only had two reasons why I didn't give this book a 5 /5 rating. One is that the first three chapters felt a bit slow, but that could have just been me. I do enjoy more quick paced books. The last reason is that i felt like the ending was too rushed. I would have loved a few more pages before we got to the ending. I also really would've loved an epilogue,jump to new years as that was such an important date.

Genre: Adult contemporary romance

Rep: WlW, Bisexual main character, Pansexual side character, sapphic,

Trigger Warnings: talk of cheating in the past, bad parenting, abandonment in the past, loss of a loved one, Misogyny including some internalized, some family trauma, attachment trauma, homophobia (framed in a negative light)

General warning: spicy content

Come Closer || Part II

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader/OFC

Summary: In which, you enter Natasha’s world via cleaning her window.

Warnings: nothing but disastrous wlw content.

Genre: Romance

PART I

PART II of III

Count: 2529

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You stand there, staring at the towering building. There's a bit of a frown on your lips as you regard the building. It's easy to spot her window as often as you had come now. 

It's a weird thing.

It had only started as a morbid curiosity and desperation for sleep yourself.

And a little gratitude.

You had come back, although you're unsure if that was the right choice to have made. You purse your lip once more as you scale the up the building to Natasha's window.

The curtains are open today, which is new. 

And while you spot no redhead in sight, there's something written on the window from Natasha's side.

⸮   o ɔ ɘ  ɔ ɘ   l    γ   W

The message itself was incomplete, but you tilted your head as if trying to decipher it. 

It was no use, though, with too many missing letters. 

You sighed and went back to cleaning the window. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The entirety of the whole thing went without Natasha showing up. You weren't sure if that had disappointed you or not. 

You had mulled over it when you were cleaning her window, and then your mind would drift to words Natasha said.

“When you sing, it’s the only time I can sleep lately.”

It was a little jarring, and you had slipped slightly, spilling some soapy water on yourself.

You sighed as you slowly made your way back down. 

The moment your toes touched the ground, you stood up straighter and turned, only to come into contact with bright emerald eyes. 

Eyes widening in surprise, you opened your mouth.

"What--"

"I had a meeting this morning," Natasha explained her absence this morning even though you had not asked. 

"Okay," you reply a little unsurely. 

Natasha regards you with a slight tilt of her head. She had almost wanted to kill Steve this morning for holding a meeting when it would be interrupting her time with you. 

The meeting let out before you were done your work, but Natasha stayed at the bottom as she watched you work. You seemed like less in a rush today.

"Thanks for coming back," Natasha speaks again, and you feel your cheeks heat up, feeling a little foolish for it.

"Will you have lunch with me today?" 

You raise your brow before shaking your head again. 

Natasha sighs but accepts the answer. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

With that, the redhead leaves, and you find yourself frowning at how easily it was for Natasha to give up.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

⸮ ɘ o ɔ ɘ  ɔ ɘ  ɘl  υ γ    W

You stare at the window before you. There are more letters, but you're no closer to figuring out what it says. Cleaning the window slowly, you see Natasha in her room at her desk. She seems to be going over some documents, and you purse your lips.

It's quite early in the morning, and in the past, Natasha was usually asleep at this time.

“When you sing, it’s the only time I can sleep lately.”

And you grit your teeth. 

It's too mortifying.

It's one thing to sing and not realize someone hears you, singing and not being able to see the person listening to you, but there was no way you could sing while you can see Natasha staring at you and listening. 

Especially when she's sitting right in front of you as you clean her window.

You jolt slightly when Natasha looks up at you suddenly.

"Lunch today?" She asks, well before your shift is over.

You furrow your brows as an answer, and Natasha sighs and returns to her work. 

It's a couple more minutes of silence before Natasha puts her documents away securely and leaves the room. You feel a weird pang in your chest as you watch her shut the door behind her. 

It doesn't help when you look at the window and see your own reflection frowning. 

The rest of the shift seems to pass by, and you tiredly make your way down. Your arms a little sore, not used to prolonged hours with your hand raised doing something. 

When you reach the bottom, you see Natasha standing there again, this time with a packed brown bag.

She holds it out to you until you take it hesitantly. 

"Hopefully, you'll have lunch with me tomorrow," Natasha rubs her lips together briefly before she walks back into the building.

You can tell she wants to say she hopes there's a song tomorrow too, but she hasn't pushed you for any more singing. 

You look down at the bag, opening it and let out a chuckle. 

There's a simple peanut butter sandwich, an option of packed fruits, or a bag of chips, along with a bottle of juice. 

And you find yourself humming. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

⸮ ɘ o ɔ ɘ  ɔ ɘ ɒɘl  υ γ   iW

The mystery is starting to unnerve you.

"How was the sandwich?"

Natasha comes by, opening the window slightly so she can talk with you.

She wasn't in her room initially, appearing much later than she normally would.

Not that you were counting.

Even if it was two hours and thirty-six minutes. 

You sigh.

"It was good. Thank you," you tell her politely. 

Natasha smiles. "So would you like to have lunch with me today? Or should I get you another sandwich? I'll have you know it's the only thing I can make."

You let out a disbelief chortle. It's a little hard to believe an Avenger is only capable of making one dish--if you could even call it that. 

Natasha's efforts were attractive, not that you would admit it.

"Why do you want to eat lunch with me? Also, what are you writing on the--"

You nod towards the writing.

"Window," you finish.

Natasha lets out a toothy smile, pleased she's gotten you intrigued and talking. 

"Stick around long enough, and you'll find out," Natasha blinks, still smiling. 

Natasha thinks it's cute the way you crinkle your nose. 

"Alright," you sigh after a long moment.

Natasha is unsure at first as to what you're agreeing to, but when you go back to cleaning her window with a small smile, Natasha can't help but have a grin herself.

Especially when you spill a little soapy water on yourself again.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You shiver a little, an action Natasha notices.

It may be warm out, but it was merely the end of the spring. There was still a cool breeze out.

"Are you cold?" Natasha asks, but she already knows the answer when she sees the goosebumps.

Perhaps it was not ideal to choose sitting out on the patio. 

"It's fine," you breathe. You usually wore a t-shirt or tank top when cleaning Natasha's window. The laborious work would work up a sweat for you.

You looked at Natasha to see her staring past you, and you followed her eye line until you found some college boys staring unabashedly at your exposed skin. Especially with your shirt still partially drying when you split water on yourself, exposing some of your skin underneath.

Natasha stares at them, hard look in her eyes until the college boys look away, a little embarrassed and guilty of being caught.

Natasha takes off her button-up dress shirt, revealing she was wearing another long-sleeved underneath.

"Here," she hands you her shirt, "wear this."

You merely smile a little, putting on her shirt, noticing how warm it felt from Natasha's body heat and how it smelt just a little like cinnamon and orange blossoms.

"Thanks."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Not to be rude, but I feel like Avengers should have better things to do then persistently ask strangers out for lunch dates."

Natasha has a low chuckle in her throat.

"This is the better thing to do," she replies, enjoying the way your cheeks flush.

"It must be hard," you comment softly, and you don't need to say the rest for Natasha to understand.

It is, she thinks. It is hard to live a normal life with her occupation. Not only was it hard, but it was risky. 

And sometimes Natasha would hesitate to take such risks.

But...

"I'm open to change," she says with a slight nod of her head. 

Before you can comment on that, Natasha asks you another question.

"You said you had a full-time job already," she brings back. "I imagine you must have an interesting career as there's no way you can have a 9-5 when you're cleaning my windows during the weekdays."

You sigh but nod.

"I'm an artist," you tell her. "Although, not as of late since I've seemed to hit a bit of a slump."

It's a little embarrassing to tell a stranger--an Avenger--such a personal problem you were having.

"And you're cleaning my windows as a distraction as well?" Natasha asks because she doesn't think you would just stay and continue to clean her windows for just gratitude. 

"It helps," you mumble, pushing your food around your plate. "I wake up at the same time most days to get to your place on time. It gives me a little bit of stability. Otherwise, I would waste the day away."

And Natasha nods fully understanding, staring at you.

"You're spilling pasta sauce on my shirt."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

⸮ɿɘ o ɔ ɘ  oɔ ɘ ƨɒɘl  υ γ   iW

Few things drive you mad. 

"Any closer to figuring it out?"

You look at Natasha through the window, squinting at her.

"Can't you just tell me what it is? Or at least write it all?"

Natasha merely laughs throatily as she smiles. 

She taps on the window.

"Hungry?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"You don't have to give me your jacket," you shake your head.

Natasha has come prepared.

"Are you always going to spill water on yourself and not bring anything else to wear?"

"Probably..."

"Then, my clothes will have to do."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Spending the day is easy with Natasha.

Natasha is not only interesting to talk to, but also easy. 

A part of you wonders if it's because she's a trained spy that conversation seems to come easy to her.

You spend the day going to some galleries and museums to show her your paintings.

"You're amazing," she compliments sincerely, and you smile a little contritely.

Another thing that Natasha notices. 

The evening comes fast, and Natasha invites you to drinks with her.

"Yes!" You agree a little too excitedly and sheepishly smile.

"You like to drink?" Natasha asks with a smile, no stranger to drinking herself. 

"Yes," you smile with a slight blush, "it's an enjoyable activity."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

A little liquid courage brings a new side to you that Natasha finds endearing. There's a bit more confidence and courage as you speak.

You like to ramble a little bit, and you look at Natasha, enjoying her vodka soda slowly and soberly. 

She laughs as you ramble about crocodiles, and whether or not she's laughing at you or with you, you know one thing for sure. 

You want to kiss her. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"So, what did you think about me when you first met me?" Natasha asks as she leads you back to her car to drive you home.

You pause with a bit of stumble.

"Why?" You slowly ask.

"Because you're drunk and you're more likely unable to control your filter."

You snort.

"You really want to know what I think about you, Natasha Romanoff?"

She hums.

"I thought you were a little entitled," you mutter and laugh when Natasha just stares at you.

"But I like that you say things like my voice is lovely. At least I know why you'd want to be entitled to it," you slur slightly.

Natasha's lips twitch of a smile. 

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, you're so annoying. Persistently annoying. Annoying, annoying, annoying!"

Natasha hangs onto you as you stumble over a rock and sighs.

"Christ, stab me right in a gut, why don't you?" Natasha mutters, but you hear it and smile.

"Anything else to destroy my ego?" She asks.

"Hm," you hum.

"Well?"

"I wouldn't mind kissing you."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There's nothing that could describe the feeling you felt as you woke up. You let out a miserable groan as you sit up.

"Feeling like a million dollars?"

You look over to see Natasha sitting on your couch with a book in hand.

It's your couch. You look around to see your own room and bed. You snap your head back at her, groaning as you did with the sudden movement.

"Why are you here?" You moan as you try to rub your temples.

Natasha closes her book, giving a smirk that makes you hate her.

"I needed a place to crash. It's the least you could do after what you put me through last night."

"Oh god, what did I do?" You ask a little mortified.

"Which part are you referring to? The part where we got to your place and I tried to help you get in, and you threw your keys two houses down, and I had to go find them? Or the part where you threw up on my jacket?"

You wanted to die.

You wished an asteroid would come down and blow up your entire house.

"I'm so sorr--"

"You can apologize by washing my jacket when you're better."

You wince at the headache but nod.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

"No," Natasha answered simply, and you frown.

"Because of me?" You ask, but Natasha doesn't answer. 

"God, I'm seriously so, so, sorr--"

Natasha turns to go to the door.

"Are you leaving now?" You ask, and Natasha nods.

"Okay..." 

"I'm just going to the convenience store to get you some hangover stuff."

You look at her, smiling lightly.

"You're coming back?"

Natasha nods as she turns open the door. 

Just as she's about to step out when she turns her head back to you. 

"I'm not going to lie, but I really hate it when people throw up on my things."

You crinkle your nose.

"Sorr--"

"But you still looked lovely, and I wanted to kiss you too, so I'll let it slide this time."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Mortification.

That's the only feeling you could feel when Natasha came back with some Advil and other things.

You drank way too much, but you should have drank more so you could at least forget how you told Natasha you wanted to kiss her. 

There was no point in trying to lie to Natasha that you didn't remember anything. She would know.

Natasha was in your kitchen, using your blender, and you were still hoping the ground would open up and swallow you.

She comes back with a drink in hand.

"What's this?" You ask.

"Banana, milk, and honey smoothie. It'll help with your hangover."

You take the drink, sipping on it slowly. 

It was good.

"So you can make more than a peanut butter sandwich," you say with a small smile. 

Natasha grins as she looks as you finishing her smoothie. 

You're way too endearing. 

"You're also lovely when trying to avoid conversation," Natasha says, enjoying the way you tense up.

"Did you want to kiss me while I was making the smoothie?"

You groan, "I hate you."

PART III

SLAMS FISTS AGAINSTS TABLE i need more wlw content RN !!! but if u could write general dating hcs of margie nd patricia (seperately nd fem s/o) id really appreciate that ! thank u <3

💸 general romantic hcs for margie and patricia 🔮 . . .

margaretha zelle ;;

♡ after that disastrous relationship with her estranged husband, margie decided that men don't exist anymore and women are the only people who matter.

♡ she was interested in you the moment you arrived at the manor, the way you carried yourself captivated her and every interaction she had with you left her craving more. margie has unusually high standards so consider yourself extremely lucky that she even spared you a glance... let alone staring at you and daydreaming about sipping wine by the poolside together.

♡ loves to dance with you and perform for you, when she rehearses you're the one who gives her tips for improvement or ideas on what moves she could add.

♡ cannot hit high notes when she sings but when she sings under her breath and pairs it with relaxing tunes from her music boxes, they soothe you to sleep whenever you're having difficulties dozing off.

♡ she wants to give you a luxurious life, one full of riches and gold. margie idolizes the idea of getting to settle down with someone in a lush home with several walk in closets and a pool. she dreams of being far away from the buzz of modern society and to only have her wifey and a bunch of poodles.

♡ i'm not saying she's a sugar mommy but she has sugar mommy....tendencies.

♡ you both love spoiling each other, your relationship is almost a competition of who can spend more money on the other.

♡ loves when you cook for her!!! give her wine and a fancy meal over a candlelit table and she'll be wrapped around your finger for the night.

♡ would buy you matching heart shaped lockets with an anniversary picture of you two inside, the back of the locket has the date you got together on it :)

♡ every wednesday she holds girls nights with vera, fiona, helena etc and you always get matched with margie during 7 minutes in heaven, you insist that she's rigging the game somehow but she denies it and says maybe fate loves to bring you together (she's rigging it, everyone is, the whole game is set up to make the girls get paired with their crushes lol)

♡ sweet talks you often, she isn't shy about declaring that you're her dearie, doll, melody, or princess.

♡ always asking if you've eaten, slept, or seen the gift she dropped off a few hours ago... queen of making sure you take care of yourself.

♡ bubble baths with you are her favourite way to cool off after a long day, her days as an animal tamer lead to her having a soft spot for rubber duckies 🥺

♡ loves to doll you up and help you with glittery makeup looks or wigs, i'd imagine she would enjoy photoshoots as well.

♡ big picky eater, she sneaks you food when something doesn't meet her standards.

♡ once she feels truly comfortable around you and is confident you're the love of her life, she'll ask to be called natalie. you know more than her dancer persona so you deserve to address her accordingly <3

patricia dorval ;;

♡ patricia had never even considered romance, her whole life has been spent on the run, devoting all her energy into mastering powerful magic with her adoptive mother.

♡ it took her a long time to realize she was crushing on you.

♡ whenever patricia collected herbs you were always there to help her, she would demand to be left alone and boast about how she didn't need anyone's help, but you were more persistent than she was.

♡ patricia had to admit she enjoyed your company, while she was prickly towards other people she found it easy to warm up to you and even found herself placing you as a priority in battle, she couldn't focus on anything if you were in any sort of danger.

♡ what finally spilled her feelings over the edge was when her hand brushed against yours as you placed poisonous herbs into a basket together, she drew in your warmth and immediately grabbed both of your hands in hers.

♡ "y/n, i must admit... these strange feelings in my heart like butterflies... they are for you! i am in love with you." she winced at her blunt delivery but everything was okay when her eyes opened and she saw you beaming at her, squeezing her fingers and leaning in for a kiss.

♡ three words. lesbian power couple.

♡ if you had any sort of headache or difficulties falling asleep, you'd consult patricia before you even thought of seeing a medical practicioner like emily. the healing potions she brewed for you worked like a charm.

♡ patricia loves a good game of chess.

♡ don't think that she'll go easy on you just because she's infatuated with you, she views you as her equal and loves to compete with you fair and square.

♡ would love to do your makeup and paint on 24 hour tattooes, you'd do the same to her and match for a day.

♡ it took a while for her to get on board with pda and cuddling but she's very touch starved and enjoys being the big spoon, along with slinging a protective arm over your shoulder when you walk with her.

♡ gifts you with handcrafted jewellery that brings good luck upon the wearer, the sight of you adorned in good luck charms and jewels that banish evil wash her over with relief.

♡ patricia's hugs are a bit stiff but once she eases into them she can squeeze the life out of you and warm you up in the snap of a finger.

♡ she radiates so much body heat, feel free to put your hands in hers when you come home late... she might even know a spell to help you!!!

♡ lets you call her trish or patty if you'd like.

♡ late nights consist of you both laying in each other's arms reading different books, but if you come across an excerpt the other might like you read it aloud for them.

♡ meeting you was the best thing that happened to her, once she realized she was in love with someone at the manor it urged her to befriend some of the other girls and she even mustered up the courage to chat with the hunters.

♡ somehow she became friends with yidhra and when you come home at night you'll occasionally see the dream witch sipping some tea at your coffee table, giving you a silent wave that means 'hey'.

♡ god you loved patricia.

Chain of Iron Theory Number Three

Okay, here's our next theory. And I am so excited, because this is about ships. And who I think will end up with who.

Let's start with the big one: Jordelia. This is one of the biggest ships in the Last Hours.

This is complicated. James thinks he is in love with Grace . . . But it might just because of the Gracelet. (Might not be it's real name, but everyone calls it that, so I will call it that.) Also, that means currently, James does not really love Cordelia. And now they are gonna get married.

I think James and Cordelia should end up together. But before that can happen, we have to deal with the Gracelet. And possibly Belial. But I really think they will end up together. I hope.

Next ship: Jucie! I am excited for this one.

Lucie had the power to bring Jesse back. That's a very important part of what might happen between them.

And I just love seeing Jesse and Lucie together. In Chain of Gold, Jesse critiqued Lucie's writing because she used the word "radiant" three times on a single page. (I totally agree with Jesse. Lucie uses a few too many adjectives. She's the classic struggling writer.)

This is a ship that will most likely happen. Jesse and Lucie will end up together, with Jesse alive and everything being fine.

Third ship: Thomalstair. This is something.

The last thing we saw of these two were them not talking. NOT TALKING. Alastair is working on being a better person, but his relationship with Alastair is not the best.

But literally-Thomas and Alastair in Paris had that "two gay guys trying to be straight" vibe. Any time things looked gay . . . One of them would say something along the lines of "no homo" and leave it alone.

I want to see them together. But Alastair needs to work on his personality. He is a jerk, and bullied several different people at the Shadowhunter Academy. And that had some disastrous consequences. If you've read the short story Cast Long Shadows (in Ghost of the Shadow Market), you know Alastair is the reason why Matthew feels so guilty and pretty much an alcoholic.

Thomas is so sweet and nice. He deserves the world. A little worried a family tree said he died at thirty . . . But after Chain of Iron comes out, I will write an essay on Thomas and his fate.

Alright, fourth ship: Arianna. We have some lesbians!

I am bisexual, and it means the world to me to see lesbian relationships. Any queer ships, but I want to see some more wlw relationships.

This one is complicated too. One one level, Anna still loves Ariadne, and isn't over here. But Ariadne broke her heart, so she doesn't want to get involved in a real relationship with her, or anyone.

Ariadne wants to win Anna back. I think she will, because Anna is still in love with her. From what I saw in Every Exquisite Thing (Another short story from Ghosts of the Shadow Market), they were a good ship. Anna, who we know as a confident person, had some awkward flirting attempts.

And then on to the last ship. Well, not really a ship.

It's time to talk about the Single Pringles. These are the people who are not in real relationships, or will most likely end up single.

Let's start with Grace Blackthorn. Yes, she has the Gracelet. Yes, right now, the Fandom collectively hates her. But I hope Grace gets a redemption arc.

BUT KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF JAMES.

Wait . . . Random thought here, but Cassie said she was going to kill off five characters. One has already died.

WHAT IF ONE OF THEM IS GRACE?!

Anyway, back to talking about the Single Pringles. Next one up, Charles Fairchild.

Now, we should all know Charles is gay. However, he is one of those "pretend to be straight" gays.

He has already been engaged to Ariadne, who is a lesbian. Well, Charles Buford Fairchild, it's your funeral.

And then he broke that engagement while Ariadne was in a COMA and about to DIE. It wasn't a good engagement, but you could be a little nicer.

Side note: I love the Last Hours because it feels like everyone is gay.

Right now, he is engaged to Grace. This is not going to end will. I doubt he will go through on the engagement, but it will still not end well.

Last character I can think of because I'm tired: Matthew Fairchild.

Besides the fact Matthew could die or have a horrible thing happen to him, he's not gonna be with anyone for any period of time.

But he does have a tiny bit of a crush on Cordelia. At the very end of Chain of Gold, Matthew seemed to be getting even more drunk over the thought of James and Cordelia being together. His interactions with Cordelia are definitely showing he likes her. But there is a very small chance it will work out.

Thanks for reading, and stay tuned more theories.

About Me + Request Info

- My name is Ollie! ^^

- I write for wlw/nblw and mlm/nblm!

-My fave characters are Albedo, Childe, Xiao, Brett, Andre, and Kaeya! ^^

-I really REALLY love plants :D

-Please do keep in mind english isn't my first language sooo I may struggle a bit, apologies!

-We're a system btw so yeah!!

-Age depends on whos fronting, most are 18+ or at least age slide to 18+ though!

-I won't do any sort of cishet couple (e.g. kokomi x male!reader, childe x fem!reader) except for maybe on occasion.

-Won't do anything problematic (pedophilia, incest, or anything questionable, etc) -Will only do NSFW headcanons, nothing more. I'm not comfy with it yet as some of us are still kids.

-Oh yeah whenever I do separate fic types (e.g. wlw/nblw or mlm/nblm) I'll add a dni so people who identify as the opposite will know that it's NOT FOR THEM!! Since some people still can't seem to realize that

-Don't request a minor character if you're an adult.

___ You Can Request for:

Genshin Impact (No Eula)

Cookie Run

Homestuck (iffy, no guardians)

Hiveswap (iffy)

SK8 The Infinity (No Miya or Adam)

Nanbaka

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K

Inside Job

___

Please Specify:

Character(s) (If there's more than one, please specify if you want it to be polyamorous or individual)

Format (Drabble, Narrative, Headcanons, etc)

Genre (Fluff/Comfort/Angst/etc)

If it's romantic, Platonic, Queerplatonic, Familial, etc

Pairing type (nblw, wlw, nblm, mlm, etc)

If you don't know or are fine leaving it up to me, then you can just exclude it.

we dream together to survive

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3szX131

by arsonist

Zuko — a disgraced, closed off ex-pilot returning to action four years after a disastrous, fatal mission, in the hopes of redeeming himself; Sokka — a Jaeger Tech engineer who gave up piloting after his sister’s departure, resigning himself to something that just never felt good enough.

When they turn out to be drift compatible, they both get the second chance they were looking for — a chance to prove themselves and help save the world.

But first, they need to let each other in.

Words: 1345, Chapters: 1/9, Language: English

Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Pacific Rim (Movies)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong, Suki (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Azula (Avatar), Jet (Avatar), Mai (Avatar), Ty Lee (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar), Original Kaiju Character(s) (Pacific Rim), Original Jaeger(s) (Pacific Rim)

Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Past Jet/Zuko - Relationship, Past Sokka/Suki, Background Mai/Ty Lee, background Aang/Katara

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Drift Compatibility (Pacific Rim), Ghost Drifting, Minor Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Gay Zuko (Avatar), Trans Zuko (Avatar), Transphobia, Internalized Transphobia, Trauma, Sharing a Bed, i am going to create an au that is so self-indulgent, idiots to lovers, they are both so stupid. so stupid, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Coming Out, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Eventual Smut, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Dissociation, Derealization/Depersonalization, Panic Attacks, Grief/Mourning, Survivor Guilt, Self-Esteem Issues, like a truckload of ‘em, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, zuko has a lingering emo phase because i wanted to project sorry in advance, sokka has piercings because i decided, zuko and mai are trans mlm/wlw solidarity, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, but what else is new, btw ‘past jetko’ here means like. timeline-wise, there are multiple flashbacks (including a sexy one), i love jet and he demanded more screen time and i couldn’t say no. love u jet xo, also he kinda got the short end of the stick plot-wise and i felt bad. sorry my man :(

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3szX131

The Girl Next Door

Folks, here’s the second update of the wlw story set in the Sixties, my third miniseries of the wlw writing project.

A fair warning: I am not sure this update is what you lovelies expect but it was quite therapeutic for me as I fictionalised many details happened to me in my romantic misadventures. I decided to write them down as it seemed to me it would make sense for a closeted and starved for love lesbian of the Sixties to go through similar experiences. Maybe it would offer a warning to the young ones...but worry not, more updates are to come: the story is not over yet!

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

DISCLAIMER: references to sexual intercourse 

Previous Chapter: Living The Dream

_______________________________

Back in my hometown I've always felt different from my classmates and friends: I never understood all the big fuss around dates and being in love. To me it simply sounded like a movie thing or a good excuse to write sappy rhymes over chocolate boxes. I had better things to do with my life. Then, I developed a huge crush on my best friend. I had all the symptoms movies and songs list: my breath would catch at the sight of her or at an accidental touch, my heart pound in my chest whenever she smiled at me or held my hand; I wanted to put my head on her shoulder and slow dance to the sweetest tunes until her lips would tenderly brush over mine. She was a vision and the most wonderful soul I've ever met. But Nancy had eyes only for our quarterback with whom she engaged in a tumultuous teen love story that left me heartbroken. In honor of our friendship, I bottled up my true feelings and hold her crying figure whenever he wouldn't call back or refrain his tongue around other girls. He was the star of our high school, the promise of football, and I'm sure he basked in his glory. I cursed him and myself whenever Nancy opened up with me, "her only true and dearest friend", over a milkshake at my parents' diner: I would have treated her better, I would have given her the moon and the stars, if only she was mine.

But she wasn't. Even when she broke up with the quarterback: she simply wasn't like me. To be honest, I knew no one like me and I felt terribly lonely. I went on dates with guys I had no interest in only to forget about my loneliness and my unreciprocated love. I convinced myself I would have never found someone to love: it's a movie thing or at least something not bound to happen to me, I sighed curling into my sheets at night. Nancy noticed my melancholy and reassured me I was wrong: sweet Nancy and her optimistic faith that everyone deserves and will get a happy ending... She found hers, at least. She proudly showed me her engagement ring a month or so before I left: her fiancé proposed her out of the blue during a fancy restaurant date and she said yes. He was a good guy, the typical good guy: nice clothes, dashing smile, working in a bank, ambitious but family-oriented. They got married the following year: she sent me an invitation and asked me to be her maid of honor. Sadly, I couldn't go, work issues but Nancy didn't take it personally: she said they would all miss me but she was happy for me, living my dream. She just made me promise to visit them after they moved to Florida. I swore and kept my promise. Actually, I did more: I sent them a Pan Am first class ticket for their honeymoon to Rio. I had many people cashing in favors afterwards but the phone call I got from them, voices cracking as they shed tears of joy, filled me with a strange nostalgic happiness. On the other side of the phone, I found myself thinking again that that kind of happiness was out of reach for me. I could only live it vicariously through Nancy and her happy marital life. I had other things to focus on: my job, the world. I was a Pan Am stewardess, after all. Yet at times when during a break colleagues shared how they loved and missed their boyfriends or the details of their latest date, I would feel lonely again. Imagine my surprise when one day I found a beautiful lady standing in front of my door with cookies and the most charming smile. She introduced herself as a new neighbour, living just on the other side of the corridor. I let her in and we shared the cookies: the old lady of the ground floor already told her who I was but she never got a chance to greet me personally. I laughed that she made me sound like a movie star, she commented "why not? You totally look like one: if you ask me, they chose the wrong stewardess for the LIFE cover". I blushed slightly and she kept talking. She was a photographer, working nearby: mainly weddings, portraits...nothing fancy, she sighed. I objected that a job doesn't have to be fancy to make us happy, but she looked unconvinced. Maybe, she conceded absentmindedly. Changing the topic she confessed she was so happy she found someone around her age living there. She had a feeling we would get on well together: why wouldn't we go to the movies or for a jog in the park one day? When I wasn't flying away from my new pal, she added, winking. And that's how it all started. I could hardly believe it: I had to pinch myself at times to make sure this wasn't just another dream. She was nice, funny and openly flirtatious, given the occasion: I enjoyed her company and started wondering if good old Nancy was right, after all. Maybe we all get the happy ending we deserve in the end. I devoted my little free time to my new incredibly charming friend: we would go to the movies, photography exhibitions she got invited to and we would share memories and confidences over drinks. We quickly slipped into an intimacy that left me dizzy and confused but happy. It didn't feel rushed when a couple of weeks after our first meeting she gently pulled my hand, a silent invitation, and kissed my lips with hunger, pushing me against the closed door of her flat. I had kissed a guy before, but a woman? Never and it was entirely differerent. As I melted underneath her touch and kissed her back flushing our bodies together, I suddenly understood what Nancy meant when she told me about her first kiss. The butterflies in the stomach, the dizziness, the fire igniting in your belly asking for more. I found it all in her arms. As time passed and temperatures slowly dropped, our meetings moved behind closed doors. She would whisper how she missed me and couldn't stop thinking about me as she unbuttoned my shirt and we tumbled over the bed. We would make love pouring our desire and affection over each other and have long talks afterwards, our bodies still entangled in the sheets. I was pleasantly surprised at how caring she was with me, checking and double checking she never pushed me too far: I think my grateful adoring smile was a reasonable enough answer. Apparently, my newfound happiness showed even on the outside: colleagues now teased me asking "who's the lucky one?" and even Mom told I sounded different, chirpier over the phone. I couldn't hide it from Nancy either. When she asked, I answered rather evasively "a photographer, works nearby...a neighbor". "Aww, the artistic type! Intriguing, you have to tell me everything, sweetheart!" she squealed on the other side of the phone. The truth is...I was just happy, enamoured for the first time in my life. I couldn't stop thinking of my charming photographer, I looked forward to the time we could spend together: I couldn't believe I'd lived all those years without knowing her. I'd laugh and silence her flatteries with a kiss, she would cling to me while sleeping as if she was afraid I could fly away when she wasn't looking. We could talk about everything, we both offered the other one a sympathetic ear: she stroked my hair when my brother hadn't written in months and I thought the worst, I embraced her trying to soothe her wounded pride after her disastrous family meetings. That's what you do when you love someone, right? Hold their hand in good and bad times, especially bad times when they need you most. However, when the first snow whitened the streets of New York, I could tell that something was changing or had already changed. Bad weather conditions forced some of my flights to be delayed or postponed and she said something about accepting works at commuting distance to expand her network. Most of the times I tried to ring her, I couldn't find her. I thought little of it, shaking off the concerns forming in my head. When we would meet again, though, she was not her usual self. My confident flirty photographer was now unusually quieter: our conversation no longer flowed as easily as it used to as if suddenly we had little to talk about. I blamed the stress of her ambitious projects at work, maybe a family issue she kept for herself. Surprisingly, at times she would get in such a troubled state that she needed reassurance about my feelings for her. I wondered what could have possibly brought this on: had I ever been distant or showed little interest for her? At this point, I was the one chasing her and keeping our precarious conversation going! I even stared thinking I must have done something wrong, some silly mistake without meaning it. Other nights if I wasn't in the mood to share a little issue I had at work, she would accuse me of not being honest with her and there was literally nothing I could do to make her change her mind. Once I joined her on the couch and tried to calm her down with kisses and soothing caresses. When my lips brushed over her neck whispering the softest words I could think of in the moment, she stiffened as I stang her with a needle. She said she was tired, her voice cold; then she pushed me off of her and left. The day after she apologised over the phone but never knocked at my door nor slept in my bed ever since. She never touched me again. At work my colleagues stopped asking about the "mysterious boyfriend"; instead, they would comment sympathetically that men are pigs, it happens to everyone sooner or later, I will surely find a better match: "you're too cute to end up a spinster, honey". But I couldn't understand the sudden change that was evident, despite her apologies and words of affection. One morning I was standing in front of my door, trying to find my keys in my overstuffed bag when I heard a loud noise. I turned instinctively: it came from the other side of the corridor. There was a light underneath her door so, after much debating, I quitted my search and went knocking at her door. No answer at first so I insisted, genuinely concerned. I called her name and the door swung open. Oddly, it had been weeks since the last time we stood so close to each other. I cleared my throat and explained that I heard a ruckus and just wanted to check if everything was okay. "You know, like a good neighbor", I added, noticing how she looked almost bothered by my presence. My dry comment displeased her but she concealed it behind a polite yet distant smile. A tripod just lost balance, she explained. Her explanation didn't convince me. I was about to object when her phone rang and a light I've hadn't seen in months brightened up her face. She hastily added that she had to take this and ran inside. She looked anxious, feverish....she even forgot to close the door. A rather peculiar chaos reigned in her flat: unwashed mugs and plates lingered over the table and on the floor not far from a bucket filled with damp laundry. The telly was on, detached from the mess beneath her. Without thinking, I cautiously stepped in, half closing the door behind me. I wanted to make sure she was safe as she said so I hold tight my bag ready to use it to defend myself if need be and moved to the living room. Her voice was intelligible: she had made a dash to another room and I couldn't make up a word behind the closed door. But eavesdropping was never the point. I inspected the room and its chaos to make sure she was in no danger. Who cares if we were going through a crisis? I still cared for her...I still loved her, despite everything. When I was about to move to the kitchen, my eyes fell on a bunch of sheets scattered over the couch. I froze in place recognising some well known sentences. And then it was all clear. All this time I'd been so concerned of her feelings changing, of finding out whatever mistake I could have possibly made, me, a silly unexperienced sapphic, since she wouldn't say it out loud. I'd cried in my bed trying to figure out if my fault was bad enough to make me lose her....when the truth was way less complicated. Embarrassingly simple. She wasn't mine to lose simply because she was never mine. The name on the letter was unfamiliar but the words were not: I'd heard them all, whispered on the back of my neck or while holding hands at the breakfast table. In her eyes I thought I saw the honesty and purity of heart she asked me, what should have been the basis of our intimacy. But I mistook my place in her heart. I mistook that gleam in her eyes of our beginnings for a deeper affection that never was there. I smiled bitterly to myself thinking back to that story she slipped beneath my door, a charming little note claiming it was about us in another time. In a bygone era, two women, ever so different from each other, fall in love despite what society taught them. A tender sapphic idylls until one of them, troubled and confused, run away leaving just a bouquet behind her. I frowned reading that passage, and I felt a pang of jealousy when I read about the main character falling into the arms of another girl before crawling back to the old love. I couldn't figure out how such story could apply to us, but I was naïve and in love: I called it poetic license. Writers do that, right? I complimented her and comforted myself repeating that I just was the inspiration behind that woman the main character could never live without as being separated, being forgotten by her could only compare to "the pluck a plant feel when ripped from the soil". Silly, naive me: so starved for the love of a woman, I claimed the role of the romantic heroine while all I was and I will ever be to her was the other girl. Nothing more than a momentary distraction judging by the fervent tone of the letter in my hands destined to another woman. To soothe my wounded pride, I protested that maybe she didn't do it maliciously, maybe she truly meant it when those three words slipped out of her mouth: I love you. Now even if that was true, it wouldn't matter. Deep down, my allure to her never stemmed from who I truly was but laid in what I could offer her. Distraction. The thrill of excitement and victory when she took off my uniform or pulled a sound from me in the heat of passion. One of the Pan Am stewardess, the fantasy haunting the dreams of so many men and women, surrendering to her, begging for another kiss and other crumbs of love. A doll to play with and to lay back into the toy box when the next new thing catches your eyes. I didn't hear the door opening but my eyes soon met hers. She was standing a few steps away looking down at me with a mix of anger and surprise. I felt the voice dying in my throat but I managed to ask what was that, these letters. She hissed that even if it was none of my business, they were personal letters to a person that mattered a lot to her. I heard myself laughing bitterly at the euphemism and the cruel irony of the situation: "it was her at the phone, huh?". Her voice was sharp and dismissive when she spoke again, completely different from the purring tone she was once used with me. She loved her and wanted to go back to her, win her back. I blinked twice, putting down her precious letters. "Oh, I just got the impression that we-" Now she laughed and there was no humor in her voice, just insolent sarcasm. "We what? Don't tell you thought we were...how would you say? A thing. I told you I didn't want a relationship. Not my fault if you filled your head with dreams, princess" I didn't remember having that conversation. All I could recall was her shy, desperate reassurances that I could doubt everything, but her love, how she had never met someone like me....well, but also how suddenly evasive she was when I asked her what she wanted. How she would never call me her girlfriend even as a joke and how she never planned anything after our first dates. What a blind fool I'd been... My face must have fallen because I remember hearing her saying something like she was confused, she realised she never loved me but just cared for me. I barked a bitter laugh as my heart ached in my chest. Summoning up every ounce of dignity left, I grabbed my bag and stood. I looked at her for one last time. I apologised for misunderstanding the situation: we had different concepts of care. "I do not proclaim my love nor sleep with everyone I care for" Then, before she might catch a tear rolling down my cheeks, I walked out without looking back. She kept saying words but I was no longer listening. I stormed into my flat and locked myself in. I dropped my bag and kicked away my shoes before running to the phone. When Nancy's singsong voice crackled on the other end, I started sobbing.