Lexie

A casual sideblog ^^ I write on @imtotallylexie, go check it out

[imstilljustlexie]

Hi.

This is an introduction post. I'm still Lexie, and I still write fanfics. My main is @imtotallylexie if you wanna check me out. I have a tag for yapping now, it's the first one on the list.

Here goes anything I happen to think or experience, and anything I see that I like. Dive in and enjoy, I suppose.

[sunhreis]

you are all i need to get by

[crying-tartine]

Summer at the office (twt ref redraw)

[scorpsik]

Gwensday x

@weemssapphic @brienneferguson @kitkat-kattywack @theswordmaiden

[imstilljustlexie]

Omg I just started game of thrones <33 (just for her xd)

[sacrificemelamb]

vampire emily prentiss moodboard.

[scorpsik]

Tuesday art x

[lunedegivre]

Once again, i've seen this trend and ofc i was only able to see Lesso... You can see the reel : here

[dogpuppy]

[imdreabtw]

I NEED that salt and pepper in my bed tonight

[scorpsik]

OG Prentiss progress x

[scorpsik]

Customised Prentiss bust

[imstilljustlexie]

How do you make all this cool stuff <33

[purpleandredlavalamps]

hotch cancelled your date... ₊˚⊹♡

[reader x aaron hotchner, fem!reader] reader is a little unhinged

you did absolutely everything perfectly. your outfit was beautiful - you ironed it until it looked fresh from the boutique. your hair was having an amazing day, wonderfully styled and has held it's shape. you've eaten well, been to work, went for a run, caught up on a show you've been meaning to finish. everything was perfect. after a spritz of the perfume aaron bought you, you buckled up your heels and grabbed your coat. you clipped and clopped down the stairs of your apartment until reaching the street, where you caught a taxi. after telling the man the name of the restaurant, you get comfortable, staring out the window.

you feel your phone vibrating in your coat pocket, it's hotch. "hey baby!" you say, excited to hear his voice.

"hey darling." he sounds... deflated? you immediately pick up on it.

"work is going to keep you, isn't it?" you question. you already know the answer.

"yeah."

"really, aaron? this is like the third time this month!" you groan.

"i'm really sorry, honey. i'll make it up to you." he pleads. he sounds sincere, you can give him that. however, you were looking forward to tonight and he's just ruined it.

"mhm, yeah, okay. schedule that in then." you mutter, hanging up the phone. "can you turn around?" you ask the taxi driver.

once you get back into your apartment, you shed all of your clothes and immediately pour yourself some wine. you huff, staring down at the red liquid in the glass as you swirl it around the sides. "well, this fucking sucks." you mumble. wine in hand, you walk to the bathtub, turning on the water and plugging the drain. you play Norah Jones and pick at the pores on your nose in the mirror until the bath is full. you smoke a cigarette and get through an entire glass of wine whilst singing along with Norah until the bath gets cold. by the time you hear aaron's key in the lock, you're a drunk prune.

you can hear him step into the apartment, taking his shoes off and putting his bag down. he's probably not calling your name because it's midnight so he must think you're asleep. you think about just pretending that you're asleep, but the you come to the very slow conclusion that you're in the bathtub and that would result in drowning.

"AARONNNNNN!!!!" you yell, slightly louder than necessary because the door opens whilst you're halfway through shouting. he blinks strongly as he enters the bathroom, adapting to the smell of your lavender bath-foam mixed with cigarette smoke.

"yeah, baby, i can hear you." he says a little loudly to counter your yell. his hands are full, one with a bouquet of flowers and the other with a takeaway bag.

"awwwwwwwwww you got me food and flowers?!?!?!" you slur, sitting up in the bath. he nods and smiles at the state of you before turning to put the food outside the door of the bathroom and bringing the flowers over to you. you pick the note out and read it. 'sorry, baby x' , it says. you look up at his face. he does look sorry. as well as amused by finding you drunk and wrinkled.

"could you ever possibly forgive me?" he asks quietly, brushing some of the wet hair that was stuck to your forehead behind your ear.

"mmmm." you smell and assess the flowers. they're beautiful. but you're not going to let him off this easy. "what takeaway did you get?"

"Chinese. your favourite." there's a twinkle in his eye. he knows he's got you. you feel your stomach rumble. you forgot to eat.

"fine. you're forgiven. help me out." you grumble.

you dry yourself and get into pajamas as aaron plates up the takeout and puts the flowers in a vase. you walk into the living room and fling yourself onto the couch, watching him bring over your dinner. you're ravenous now. you turn on a movie and slowly start to feel yourself sober up and feel progressively more tired as the night goes on. eventually, you're fast asleep in aaron's lap. he turns off the movie and clicks off all the lights, picking you up and taking you over to the bed. he tucks you in and kisses your forehead. "i'll take you out tomorrow, i swear, honey." he whispers into your hair before he leaves the room to have a shower.

[juicyvirgo]

aaron who gets turned on as he’s teaching you how to conduct an interrogation. he’s holding eye contact with you the whole time as he grows harder underneath the dinner table every time you slam your fist against the hard oak and yell in his face.

the look on your face, your furrowed brows and your slight breathlessness just reminds him of the times you were on top of him, letting him be submissive after spending the whole day having to be the boss and yell at people.

“you need to be more controlled you can show your anger, but don’t let it take over… be strategic with it” he advises as his sneaky hand travels to your waist and pull you closer.

“let me show how i do it.”

obviously the lesson ends with you bent over the dinner table, as he continues to teach how to assert your dominance, by dominating you.

[22marie16]

His Hoodie

Pairing: Spencer Reid x femaleBAU!reader 

A/N: Cooked this up rq so it probably sucks, but I hope you enjoy it! Please like, repost, and follow if you’d like to see more like this! 

Word count: 1.2k 

Warnings: Not an ounce of proof-reading, Mentions of killers and wounds (not much), fluff 

Summary: Hard launching to the team by accident. You wear his hoodie on the jet plane back after an exhausting mission, and everyone notices. 

After a long case that managed to drag out for an entire week, the team was finally returning to their home, Quantico. The case of a serial killer targeting teenage girls. A 15-year-old girl was kidnapped, and the team raced against the clock to find her.

It was a hard case for you; you saw yourself in her. She was involved in the same things you were in high school. She was a good kid who went through a lot, and you knew all what that was like. 

You barely slept the whole case, constantly brewing new coffee to stay awake. If you did get any sleep, it was because you slipped into consciousness while working in the police station. 

You’d eventually wake up on the office couch with a blanket draped over you. You obviously knew exactly who was taking care of you, but for the sake of HR and your job, you had to feign ignorance. 

No one could know about you and Reid. 

You loved him, you truly did. He was everything a woman could ask for. Between his nerdy facts and his cute face, you were down horrifically. 

No matter how much you loved him, you knew that as a female agent, you would never receive respect if you were dating a male coworker. People would assume you slept your way into your position. They would overlook the countless hours and dedication you put into your job. 

You weren’t willing to sacrifice that, so you and Reid came to a mutual decision to keep your relationship a secret.

It was hard, but it was important. You couldn’t risk your relationship distracting you or getting in the way of your job. 

Eventually, after grueling 16-hour days working to find her, Penelope managed to find where he was hiding her. The girl narrowly survived, with deep gashes and cuts from the killer's relentless torture. 

You knew this case would haunt you. It wasn’t abnormal for you to have nightmares about the worst ones. They wouldn’t go away, but after time they became manageable. The insomnia wasn’t so bad anyway; you actually managed to get stuff done during the night. 

The times when you were able to fall asleep were few and far between. 

Hotch noticed— hell, the whole team did— but the BAU isn’t exactly known for its compliance. There wasn’t anything they could do except encourage you to sleep. You wouldn’t listen; it’s not like you could control the nightmares, they just came to you. 

Soon enough, the team was boarding the jet and setting off for home. 

One by one, the team shoved their bags underneath the plane into the storage compartment. Morgan, ever the gentleman, usually took the women’s bags for them and tossed them along with the others. 

Each member boarded the plane, walking up the steep steps of the plane stairs. Inside, Hotch looked around. 

“Where’s Y/n?”

The team really hadn’t noticed you were missing. Not because they didn’t care, but because they were so exhausted they could barely keep their eyes open. 

Except Reid, of course. He was extremely aware you weren’t on the plane, but he feared that if he was the only one to bring up your disappearance, it would look suspicious. He knew Hotch would notice eventually, so he stayed quiet. 

The team glanced around the room, looking for you before deciding you were absent from the plane. 

“Huh.. That’s unusual. She’s always early”, Morgan stated. He reached into his back pocket where his phone rested, pressing each number until he was ready to dial your cell phone. 

Just as he was pressing the last number, the stairs thumped frantically. 

Hotch grabbed his gun on his belt, not drawing it, but ready in the case of an emergency. 

But it wasn’t an emergency; it was you. Your hair was a mess, and your makeup from yesterday smudged on your face. You wore fluffy pajama pants, slippers, and a large oversized drawstring hoodie. 

The team glanced over you. You looked horrid, but that wasn’t what they were concerned with. They weren’t looking at your slippers, or your bright pink Hello Kitty pajama pants, or even your extremely messy hair.  They were focused on your hoodie, the one they were all too familiar with. It didn’t belong to you. It belonged to Dr.Spencer Reid. 

Emily’s mouth dropped open, immediately panning to Spencer, who wore a pink blush on his face, before turning to JJ and Morgan, who were both looking at each other already. Hotch and Rossi glanced at each other, with a smile on Rossi’s face while Hotch wore his same old stone-cold face. 

You were confused as to why JJ, Emily, and Morgan were giggling. Even more so, why Rossi was smiling at your appearance. You knew you looked a mess, but you didn’t look that bad. 

JJ turned back to face Rossi, “So how many weeks is it?” 

“10 weeks,” He replied, still wearing his smile. 

“Dammit,” Morgan and Emily said in unison while reaching into their pockets for their wallets. 

“I really thought I had this one,” Morgan muttered while pulling out a crisp $100 bill and handing it back to Rossi, Emily doing the same. 

You looked at the scene in front of you in utter confusion. 

“Can someone explain what’s happening?” you awkwardly laughed, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Uhm.. It appears you’re still wearing my hoodie… and now the team knows. It also seems that they’ve made bets on how long it took us to slip up and reveal ourselves. I actually considered the possibility that this would happen, but it seemed quite slim. I should’ve known, considering it depended on an extremely large number of variables”, he rambled, blush remaining on his face. 

“Oh”, you said, walking slowly and finally slumping into a seat with a loud thump. 

After a minute, the giggles quieted down, and the team started picking their seats. 

As Emily passed you, she whispered in your ear, “Congratulations, you’ll tell the girls all the details later at girls' night, right? I want to know everything.” She giggled as she walked away. 

You knew she was joking, but your face went red, and you buried your face in your hands. 

Spencer took his seat next to you, pulling out a book as he began telling you facts about the author. 

“For as profound as Dostoevsky is, he actually only wrote to pay off his financial debts. He suffered from a gambling addiction. In fact, he wrote it in only twenty-six days, which is only five days slower than Jack Kerouac wrote when working on ‘On the Road’.”He rambled on about Dostoevsky. 

It obviously wasn’t his first time reading Crime and Punishment, but it was one of his favorites, and he often re-read it for enjoyment. He had an eidetic memory, so re-reading them wasn’t really necessary, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. 

Hotch watched the two of you. Studying how you interacted and how you treated him. Reid was like his son, and he cared deeply about how he was treated, even if Hotch sometimes failed to treat him right. 

When Reid eventually quieted down and became focused on his reading, Hotch looked at you from across the table. 

“Just make sure to report it to HR”, He stated. It was the most approval you would ever get out of Hotch without him saying it directly. 

So maybe dating a federal agent wouldn’t turn out to be so detrimental to your career. 

You leaned on Reid’s shoulder as he read. Snuggled in his hoodie and resting on him, you managed to fall asleep. 

Safe to say, that was the best sleep you had in over a month. 

A/N: Please like, repost, or follow if you liked this and want to see more!! My requests are always open! <3

[scorpsik]

Saturday art x

[imstilljustlexie]

Ohmygosh hi Hotch <3333

[prettyinlaces]

MASTERLIST ⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 mari's version

my whole collection of writing for marilyn thornhill (my beloved) because who could get enough of her?

⤿ all reader insert fics do not include y/n !

SERIES

no second thoughts. [ ongoing ] an invitation arrives in careful handwriting, personally addressed to you; others are invited, but none so deliberately, calling you to some sort of party at the long-abandoned gates mansion. the gates family are said to be dead, the house empty. it isn’t. as the night unfolds, you are guided, watched, and chosen. these parties begin to happen more often and slowly, dangerously, you become enamoured, unable to imagine a world where she does not exist.

ONESHOTS

in bloom. [ writing ] principal weems gave you a detention with miss thornhill. she needs help with getting some plants from nevermore's stores. you accept, only because you don't want to get into any more trouble. however, you seem to stumble on some unusual plants along the way.

[prettyinlaces]

NO SECOND THOUGHTS . ݁ ˖ 8. the realisation

tags — mdni. 18+ nsfw. contains explicit sexual themes and content. angst. hurt/comfort. hurt/no comfort. slow burn. fluff. violence. alcohol. family death. family trauma. reader slightly oc. obsession. tags will be updated as the series continues.

series masterlist

wc: 3.4k

it had been around a week since you went to the mansion with wednesday.

you had hardly seen her since, which, honestly, probably wasn’t surprising. she had most likely decided to work alone. it made sense—she couldn’t trust you, and you weren’t exactly helpful when it came to giving her information.

you sit in the quad with enid, listening as she excitedly shows you an update on her blog, something about the fangs. she scrolls through it, pointing things out as she talks.

you nod along, giving her the reaction she expects, even though you aren’t really paying much attention. your mind is somewhere else.

then your eyes move; a figure catches your attention as it's someone you haven’t seen in a while, divina.

she has been your roommate since the start of the year, though she had originally lived in puck hall before moving.

you stare for a moment because you honestly hadn’t realised how long it had been since you last saw her. you just assumed she had been spending time with her other friends.

bianca had mentioned it at the start of the year, saying that divina had a habit of disappearing sometimes, so you didn’t think much of it until now.

she’s walking quickly, her head lowered as she moves, almost like she doesn’t want anyone to notice her, or maybe like she doesn’t want anyone to stop her.

enid is still talking beside you, still explaining whatever update she’s showing you, but you don’t look away from divina.

you stand up slowly, your eyes staying fixed on her as she disappears further across the quad. you step forwards to follow her.

"hey—"

enid calls your name, making you pause for a second, but you don’t turn around.

"i’ll talk to you later, enid." your voice is quiet, already moving again before she can respond.

you don’t even make it out of the quad because suddenly, wednesday appears. you don’t even see where she comes from.

one second you’re following divina, and the next wednesday is standing in front of her, stopping her completely.

divina looks surprised.

wednesday says something you can’t hear at first, but then she gestures towards the edge of the quad, towards the edgar allan poe statue.

you slow down, your curiosity immediately taking over. you quickly move behind one of the pillars nearby, keeping yourself hidden while still being able to see them.

you hold your breath slightly, listening and waiting to hear what wednesday is saying. wednesday stands in front of divina, blocking her path completely so she has no way of simply walking away.

"where have you been?" she asks, her voice calm but suspicious, her eyes studying every small reaction divina gives.

divina immediately looks defensive. "nowhere! i've been switching between bianca and yoko's rooms for a few weeks."

wednesday tilts her head. "hmm." she studies her. "peculiar." her arms are crossed over her chest. "considering both bianca and yoko have separately informed me that they haven’t seen you either."

divina’s expression shifts slightly. just enough for wednesday to notice.

"but that’s not the most interesting part."

she reaches into her pocket, pulling something out. a necklace.

your eyes widen from behind the pillar: the siren necklace. the one from the mansion. it's divinas?

"missing this?" wednesday asks, holding it out towards her.

divina’s expression changes instantly; the tension leaves her shoulders slightly.

she looks almost relieved. "where did you get that?"

wednesday watches her carefully. "the gates house." she lets the silence sit for a moment. "perhaps you have something to explain."

you start to worry for a moment because divina isn’t wearing her necklace, and if she doesn’t have it, then what’s stopping her from using her siren abilities on wednesday?

your eyes flick between them. you know you should probably wait. you know wednesday can handle herself...but still.

you step out from behind the pillar, moving around it slowly, ready to intervene if something happens.

"what? i—" divina starts, her expression shifting as she looks between wednesday and the necklace.

but before she can finish, everything is interrupted.

"hi girls!"

you freeze slightly. marilyn walks past you, and you realise she had been there the entire time. you didn’t even notice her.

she must have seen you listening or maybe she noticed the tension between wednesday and divina and decided to step in. either way, she doesn’t act like anything is strange.

she just smiles warmly. one hand moves up to push her glasses higher on her face, while the other carefully holds a plant pot against her side.

you look at her.

"oh, wednesday," marilyn says, her voice gentle as she looks towards her. "principal weems wanted to see you in her office just about now." she gives a small smile.

"what for?" wednesday asks, her expression not changing.

"she didn't tell me," marilyn replies, tilting her head slightly. "but she looked very eager to see you."

marilyn watches the two of them as she speaks and you do too.

wednesday eventually looks back towards divina and holds the siren necklace out, handing it back to her.

divina takes it carefully, her fingers closing around it as she looks at wednesday for a moment.

then wednesday turns and walks straight past you. she doesn’t see you or at least, you think she doesn’t.

you stay still for a second, watching her disappear, before deciding you can’t keep standing there. then, you step out from where you were hiding, walking towards marilyn as casually as possible. as if you weren’t there the entire time and as if you hadn’t been listening.

"hi," you say softly.

marilyn looks towards you and she doesn’t say anything about it; neither does divina.

the two of them don’t exchange a word before divina looks between you and marilyn. there’s a strange expression on her face, like she’s noticed something.

you frown slightly, but before you can ask, she turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with marilyn.

you stay still for a moment.

"you really need to stop eavesdropping, sweet girl."

your eyes widen slightly because that answers your question: she did see.

marilyn tilts her head, looking at you with that familiar soft expression, though there’s a hint of amusement there too.

"you’ll get caught one day," she continues, adjusting the plant pot in her hands slightly, "and i won’t be there to save you."

you stare at her for a moment. "oh..." you pause. "you saw?"

a small sound leaves her, almost like a sigh, shaking her head slightly. "you’re not very discreet."

you look away, a little embarrassed because, unfortunately, she isn’t wrong.

"anyway," marilyn says, shifting the plant pot slightly in her arms as she looks down at you with a calm, almost expectant expression, "since i've got you. do you have your practical workbook? i would like to show it to some of my other classes."

you blink, straightening a little as you register what she’s asking. "oh, yes, of course, miss—"

you stop mid-sentence when she looks at you. it isn't sharp, but a small frown forms behind her glasses.

"marilyn," you correct yourself quickly, your voice softer now. "it's in my room, though."

she nods slowly, considering that for a moment, her gaze still fixed on you. then she relaxes again, that gentle tone returning. "oh, that’s okay, i have time now?"

you both walk towards your room, the conversation quiet as you move through the corridor together.

on the way there, marilyn stops for a moment and places the plant pot on one of the small wooden stands along the wall, carefully adjusting it so it sits properly.

"principal weems wants more plants around the school," she explains, giving it a small glance before continuing. "said it would make the place feel a little more alive."

you smile slightly at that. of course she would be the one to make sure there were more plants everywhere.

when you reach your room, you open the door and step inside, moving towards your vanity and you reach out to open the drawer.

but then you stop, because sitting there is a box. a box that looks painfully familiar.

your eyes narrow slightly as you stare at it. it is similar to the one you received back in october. there’s a rose placed carefully on top of it and a letter.

you don’t move for a moment.

marilyn doesn’t fully walk into the room. instead, she stays by the doorway, leaning against the doorframe as she watches you, her eyebrows slightly raised.

"what’s that?" she asks.

you don’t answer straight away. you slowly pick up the rose, your fingers brushing over the petals before you walk over and place it into a vase. your eyes linger on it because there’s another rose already there. it's the exact same kind: the one from october.

and suddenly, you’re very aware of marilyn standing behind you.

"oh, a gift," you say, picking up the vase carefully and studying the old rose inside it.

your fingers move around the glass slightly, looking at the petals that somehow still haven’t wilted.

"there’s a way to keep roses from dying, right?" you ask, glancing back at marilyn. "i received this one in early october and it’s still alive."

marilyn looks towards the rose, her expression softening slightly as she watches you.

"yes, there is," she says. "you can make it from moonwater reeds and shade lotus petals, though the plant has to take it every month."

your eyes widen slightly. "oh?" you look back at her. "the ingredients i got for you?"

you are so distracted by the roses that you had completely forgotten why marilyn was even here in the first place.

for a moment, she doesn’t answer; she just stays there, leaning against the doorframe, her head resting slightly against it as she watches you.

there’s a small, almost amused look on her face but you don’t notice. you’re too focused on the rose.

you open the box in front of you and there it is: the dress for the masquerade. just like she said.

you let out a small sound without even meaning to, completely caught off guard by how beautiful it is.

your fingers carefully reach out, pulling it from the box and letting the fabric unfold in your hands.

it’s a burgundy ballgown with long sleeves, the material falling perfectly as you hold it up.

you stare at it for a moment, almost forgetting marilyn is still there. "oh my... that's so—"

"gorgeous?" she finishes for you.

she’s still leaning against the doorframe, watching you closely. not the dress. you.

she looks like she’s taking in every little reaction, almost amused by how easily you’re impressed.

you look back at her. "yes." the answer comes out quietly because it is, it really is.

you hold the dress up against yourself, turning around to face marilyn. "do you like it?"

for a moment, she doesn’t answer. her eyes move over the dress, taking in the details, but then they shift back to you.

there’s something in her expression that changes slightly. it's a softness, like she already knows the answer but is trying not to show it too much.

she does like it more than she probably should. she pushes herself away from the doorframe slightly, lifting her head as she looks at you.

"what's it for?" she asks.

you look down at the dress for a second. "oh, for a masquerade i'm going to."

"a masquerade?" she repeats, pushing her glasses up with one hand. "what's the occasion?"

you shrug slightly. "i have no idea."

your fingers move to the sleeve of the dress, gently fiddling with the fabric as you look at it.

marilyn watches the small movement and then she tilts her head.

"well, since it's a masquerade, shouldn't you have a mask?"

"oh, yeah."

you turn back towards the box immediately, looking inside and there it is: a matching mask.

you pick it up carefully, folding the dress and placing it neatly to the side before holding the mask up. it’s beautiful.

you turn back around, holding it against your face in a slightly silly way. "whatcha think?"

marilyn lets out a small laugh, shaking her head slightly as she looks at you. "you look beautiful, silly girl."

the words are soft and for a second, she looks at you like she means more than just the mask.

"anyway, before you make me forget," marilyn says, a small amused look on her face, "please could i have that workbook?"

you blink, realising you had completely got distracted again.

"oh, yes, of course, mari," you say. the nickname slips out before you even realise you said it; it is just natural to you.

marilyn’s expression changes slightly at the sound of it. a small smile appears, but you don’t see it because you’ve already turned away.

you walk back over to your vanity and open the second drawer, searching through the mess inside. you move things around, gently pushing papers aside as you rummage through the drawer until you finally find the green book.

you pull it out and turn back around. walking over to her, you hold it out.

she takes it carefully, almost like it’s something fragile.

"thank you," she says, looking down at it for a moment before looking back at you. "i'll bring it back tomorrow."

"take as long as you need," you reply quickly. then you continue, because apparently you can’t stop yourself. "in fact, i can just pick it up in our next lesson. when is it? is it—"

you don’t even get to finish as marilyn answers immediately.

"thursday."

you pause. then nod. "yes, okay, thursday."

you smile slightly, and she watches you for a moment before looking down at the workbook again.

you watch her for a moment, waiting for her to say something else but instead, she just gives you one last small smile. "i'll see you later, sweet girl."

your heart does that weird little thing again at the nickname.

you nod. "see you later, mari."

and there it is again: that small smile. you don’t notice it this time either.

marilyn turns, holding the workbook carefully against her chest as she walks towards the door. she pauses for a second, looking back at you like she wants to say something. but she doesn’t.

instead, she simply shakes her head slightly, almost amused, before stepping out into the corridor.

you stay there, watching as she walks away.

only when she disappears around the corner do you realise you’re still standing in the same place. you look down at the dress sitting on the side, then at the rose.

you walk back over to it, picking up the dress carefully and placing it back into the box, making sure the fabric isn’t folded awkwardly. you then place the mask on top of it, letting it sit neatly against the dress. once everything is inside, you put the lid back onto the box.

you move it under your vanity, pushing it back slightly so it’s out of the way.

only when you stand up properly again do you notice it. a note. you stare at it for a moment because somehow, you completely forgot about it.

your eyes move over to it, and slowly, you reach out and pick it up. you turn it over in your hands before opening it. inside, there’s only one sentence.

'as promised, november 26th 8pm, you know where.'

you read it again and again, your fingers tighten slightly around the paper.

she kept her promise.

you sigh, pushing the note away slightly, trying not to think too much about it but as you move it, you accidentally knock another piece of paper from the edge of the vanity.

it falls to the floor, causing you to crouch down, reaching out and picking it up.

at first, you don’t think anything of it until you see the writing.

your eyes move over the page. it’s familiar, maybe a bit too familiar.

it’s marilyn’s writing. it's the timetable she gave you near the start of the year.

you stare at it for a moment, your fingers tightening around the paper. the writing...

you slowly reach for the other note you just read, comparing them. your eyes move back and forth between the two pieces of paper.

it's the same handwriting, the same curves and the same little details.

exactly.

your heart stops. there’s no way...no, it can’t be.

you nearly fall over from how quickly you reach for the stack of other letters you had received. your hands move faster than your thoughts, grabbing them from where you had kept them and pulling every single one out.

the papers scatter slightly across your vanity. you don’t even care.

you pick up the first one. then another. then another.

your eyes move over every word, every line, every little detail.

the handwriting, the same handwriting, every single one matches.

your fingers go still around the paper in your hand because suddenly everything feels different.

the gifts.

the rose.

the dress.

the bracelet.

the necklace.

all of it.

you stare at the pile in front of you, your mind trying to catch up with what you’re seeing.

marilyn. it was marilyn.

the woman you had seen was ginger...just like her.

your eyes stay fixed on the letters in front of you, your thoughts moving faster than you can process them. her voice, you thought, was familiar, but was it because it was marilyn’s voice you were hearing the whole time?

you don’t know.

you try to think back to every moment, every word she said, every time she was near you but now that you know, everything feels different, like every little detail is suddenly connecting.

and yet...you still don’t want to believe it because it feels impossible and it feels too unreal.

you look down at the rose necklace around your neck, your fingers slowly moving to touch the pendant.

the one she gave you. your breath catches slightly, was that why she knew i have the bracelet around my ankle?

then, you hear footsteps coming closer, causing your head to snap towards the door.

your heart is still racing, your thoughts still trying to catch up with everything you just discovered.

you quickly gather the papers, your hands moving without thinking. you grab every letter, every note and every piece of proof and shove them back into the drawer. you close it quickly, turning around just as the door opens.

it’s enid. she steps inside, completely unaware of what she’s just interrupted.

"hey," she says, looking at you.

you force yourself to act normal. "hey, enid." you say, standing there awkwardly.

"are you...okay?" enid asks cautiously as she steps further into the room, tucking a strand of her multicoloured hair behind her ear while she studies your face.

"yes!" the answer comes out way too quickly, causing enid to pause.

she gives you a weird look, raising her eyebrows slightly like she knows something is off.

you immediately realise how obvious you were being. "yes," you repeat, quieter this time, letting out a small sigh.

you walk towards her, reaching out and taking her hands before gently guiding her towards the bed. "it's just that i feel bad about divina," you say.

the lie comes out easier than you expected, and you hope she doesn’t notice. "i left you because i haven’t seen her in ages, and well, she didn’t look okay."

enid’s expression softens. "yeah, i know. don't worry about it!" she smiles at you, giving your hands a small squeeze. "was she okay? i mean, she is your roommate, so you kind of have to care about her."

you nod. "yes, just some trouble at home."

"ugh, don’t we all have that?" enid says, rolling her eyes playfully. "i mean seriously, what is it with parents traumatising their kids?"

you let out a small breath, but you don’t really respond, because she continues. she starts talking about the gossip she was telling you about earlier, her hands moving as she explains everything, completely invested in the story.

you aren’t really listening as your mind drifts—back to your own family, back to your mother, and then...back to marilyn.

because now you can’t stop wondering.

how much did you miss? was it really her? it couldn't be.

but all roads point to her.

and maybe, so did all of the roads in your soul.