i HATE bonnie's canon love interests. i think the way they handled her romantic partnerships is lazy and unfulfilling for bonnie and often puts her in the role to sacrifice herself over and over again.

as someone who also writes jeremy, the way he latched himself onto bonnie romantically was a result of him speeding into another whirlwind relationship after losing both anna and vicki and what he really needed was a friend, not another girlfriend. bonnie had never had a relationship before, so of course it's going to make her feel special when a boy likes her or shows interest especially in the earlier seasons. all of the people who even looked bonnie's way in s1 was just using her for her powers or trying to get to elena. had they just skipped the bonnie/jeremy whatever the hell that was at the beginning, we could've had something special with luka because he actually began to enjoy being around her and bonnie could've had more plotlines with the originals from the start along with more time to learn more about being a witch rather than doing EVERYTHING on her own with nobody to guide her because grams is dead. luka and jonas martin could've given so much insight to witchcraft and could've taught her so much but instead the writers killed both of them.

jeremy cheating on bonnie with a ghost infuriates me but it also makes sense with his character because he never gets time to grieve anything by association with his sister. there is always something new happening and it's not only traumatic for elena, it's traumatic for jeremy and also bonnie. jeremy was never going to get over vicki the way he was supposed to — and i know that jeremyanna is the collective favorite of jeremy's ships, but it was VICKI that jeremy did everything for in season one. it was vicki that he wanted to become a vampire for. it was VICKI that he spent months of his time with and mourned his parents with and it was vicki who he fell in love with. but then she died, and anna showed up and forced her way in and stalked him and eventually showed that interest in him, and it's there where he learned about the supernatural world. but even then, he wanted it to be with vicki. it wasn't until season three where i fully believe he fell for anna BECAUSE she had appeared back from the dead. it would've made more sense to have this love triangle without adding bonnie to it because there was already so much material there with grief and saying goodbye that bonnie's place there made no sense other than to just HURT bonnie. even more so when you consider that jeremy died and bonnie sacrificed her relationship with the ancestors and their magic to bring jeremy back from the dead and he still cheated on her and hurt her.

to push it even further and talk about her mom who abandoned her as a baby, then having abby have an adopted child who was the same age as bonnie and then weirdly try to set up bonnie and jamie seemed like a smack in the face when that storyline could've turned into a "you started a new family after you left me" storyline rather than whatever the hell that was. it's insulting to people who want an actual romance with bonnie because it's so random and ridiculous, only to have bonnie go BACK to jeremy and it's all just annoying and racist how elena and caroline can have these well planned romances and sparks are flying and with a leading man ( or multiple leading men) and then bonnie has / checks notes / elena's brother that's already had the loves of his life on screen and her adopted brother.

not to mention that bonnie is desexualized and not seen as a leading lady despite everyone always needing her all the time or else everybody would be dead. there's no passion, no romance, nothing of substance throughout the whole show for bonnie and i was even unimpressed with pushing enzo towards her. it seemed like a cop out when she could've had damon in season six with the way they were focusing on their dynamic. if she was white, there would've been at least an accidental kiss or something worth noting between bamon but nothing came of it.

in season seven and eight there's blatant love confessions but then they tack on "you're my best friend" at the end like it does anything but make me roll my eyes. they parallel bella and edward in a scene even and yet nothing.

it makes sense to me that bamon is bonnie's most popular non canon ship because there was so much they could've done with them especially if elena isn't in the picture. it even makes sense that people enjoy bonnie and kai because at least it's better than the other bullshit we've gotten and he's a character with layers. the "bonnie would never reduce herself to being with damon / a villain" excuse is tired especially after her arc with expression. which, btw, even bonnie and shane going into power play dynamics and grooming and manipulation would've been more interesting if they would've just went for it and did something with bonnie. most of her storylines are unfinished to me and scattered and could have been so fascinating to delve into if they would've treated bonnie like a lead and not a throwaway character they try to off every damn season.

Leon  watches  the  bus  emerge  from  the  curtain  of  rain  like  some  great  iron  beast  surfacing  from  the  depths  of  a  lake,  its  headlights  smeared  gold  through  the  fog.  The  sight  should  have  felt  ordinary.  A  bus  arriving  at  a  bus  stop.  A  destination  finally  catching  up  to  those  waiting  for  it.  Instead,  it  feels  strangely  final.  As  though  the  morning  itself  has  reached  a  crossroads  and  quietly  laid  the  choice  at  Bonnie's  feet.  The  rain  softens  around  them,  not  enough  to  stop,  never  enough  for  that,  but  enough  that  Leon  notices.  His  gaze  drifts  towards  her  hands,  toward  the  subtle  tension  threading  through  her  fingers.  Toward  the  way  she  glances  down  at  her  stomach  before  looking  away  again.  Momentary  change  of  plans.  The  phrase  settles  heavily  inside  him. 

It  reminds  him  of  surgeons  calling  catastrophic  injuries  complications.  Of  oncologists  speaking  softly  about  developments.  Human  beings  have  always  possessed  a  remarkable  talent  for  dressing  suffering  in  gentler  clothing.  It  makes  tragedy  easier  to  hold,  and  maybe  easier  to  survive.  For  a  moment,  Leon  says  nothing.  The  silence  between  them  feels  less  uncomfortable  now  than  it  did  when  they  first  sat  beneath  the  shelter.  The  shape  of  it  has  changed.  Familiarity  has  begun  to  take  root  where  there  should  only  be  strangerhood.  Leon  isn't  quite  sure  how  he  feels  about  that.  Bonnie's  observation  lingers  in  his  thoughts  as  steadily  as  the  rain.  Trying  to  put  yourself  into  a  runaway's  brain  doesn't  seem  wise.  A  faint  smile  tugs  unexpectedly  at  the  corner  of  his  mouth,  not  amusement  exactly  but  recognition.  She  isn't  wrong.  If  anything,  she  has  summarized  one  of  Leon's  greatest  flaws  with  startling  efficiency.

His  eyes  lowered  toward  the  damp  pavement  below.  Water  gathers  in  shallow  puddles,  distorting  the  reflection  of  the  bus  stop  shelter  until  it  resembles  a  watercolor  painting  left  out  in  the  storm.  “I've  never  been  particularly  wise.”  His  voice  emerges  quieter  than  before.  The  confession  almost  disappears  beneath  the  sound  of  the  rainfall.  Leon  folds  his  arms  loosely  across  his  chest,  gaze  remaining  fixed  somewhere  distant.  “The  problem  is  that  I  always  notice  the  cracks.”  His  eyes  flick  toward  her  then,  not  invading  or  probing  –  merely  honest.  “When  I  was  a  child,  my  mother  was  sick  more  often  than  she  was  well.”  The  memory  arrives  gently  at  first.  His  mother's  silhouette  illuminated  by  lamplight,  the  sound  of  coughing  through  paper-thin  apartment  walls,  and  the  sharp  medicinal  scent  that  permanently  stained  his  childhood.  “I  spent  years  convincing  myself  that  if  I  learned  enough,  studied  enough,  paid  enough  attention,  I  could  somehow  keep  her  alive.”  A  humorless  breath  escapes  him  as  the  rain  gathered  on  the  shelter  roof  above  them,  tapping  softly  like  fingertips  against  the  glass.  “Then  I  became  a  doctor  and  made  the  exact  same  mistake  with  my  wife.”

There  is  no  bitterness  in  the  statement.  Only  exhaustion.  The  kind  that  settles  into  bones  and  never  fully  leaves.  Leon  can  still  remember  every  detail  if  he  allows  himself  to.  The  hospital  monitors.  The  sterile  fluorescent  lights.  The  sensation  of  desperately  trying  to  bargain  with  the  inevitability.  He  rarely  allows  himself  to  remember.  Some  wounds  become  geological  formations  rather  than  injuries.  Entire  landscapes  built  around  old  grief.  Leon's  gaze  drifts  back  toward  Bonnie,  toward  the  woman  trying  desperately  to  convince  herself  she  is  simply  adjusting  to  a  change  of  plans  while  carrying  enough  fear  to  darken  the  horizon. 

There  it  is  again.  That  very  same  instinct.  The  one  he  has  never  successfully  killed  –  the  urge  to  reach  toward  broken  things,  to  steady  them,  to  mend  them,  to  save  them.  Even  when  experience  has  repeatedly  proven  that  salvation  is  rarely  his  to  give.   “I  suppose  I  developed  a  bad  habit.”  A  faint  smile  ghosts  across  his  features.  “Tending  to  people  who  look  like  they  are  carrying  the  weight  of  the  world.”  The  words  are  softer  now,  less  clinical,  because  somewhere  during  this  conversation,  Bonnie  ceased  being  an  interesting  mystery  and  became  something  more  dangerous.  Someone  he  cares  about  understanding.  Someone  whose  sadness  has  begun  carrying  pieces  despite  having  no  right  to.  The  revelation  irritates  him.

Leon's  eyes  linger  on  her  for  a  moment  longer.  The  rain  has  dampened  several  curls  near  her  temples.  The  exhaustion  beneath  her  eyes  remains  impossible  to  miss.  Yet,  beneath  it  all,  Leon  sees  something  else.  Determination.  Fear  and  determination  often  grow  from  the  very  same  root,  which  people  tend  to  forget.  What  strikes  him  most  is  not  that  she  is  running.  It  is  why.  Bonnie  speaks  of  herself  like  someone  fleeing  disaster,  but  everything  about  her  suggests  the  opposite.  She  is  moving  toward  responsibility,  even  if  she  is  terrified  of  it.  Moving  toward  uncertainty  and  sacrifice.  Toward  a  future  she  cannot  see.  Leon's  mother  had  once  looked  that  way.  His  wife,  too.  People  only  become  truly  brave  when  fear  accompanies  them.

The  bus  finally  hisses  to  a  stop  before  the  shelter.  Its  doors  fold  open  with  a  mechanical  sigh.  Bonnie  rises  first,  then  comes  the  question.  Are  you  coming?  For  a  second,  Leon  simply  looks  at  her.  The  morning  light  catches  in  the  rainwater  still  clinging  to  the  shelter  windows,  turning  the  world  beyond  them  soft  and  luminous.  She  stands  framed  by  gold  mist  and  storm  clouds  alike,  suspended  between  departure  and  arrival.  A  crossroads.  An  invitation.  Or  perhaps  merely  a  polite  question  from  a  stranger,  and  yet  it  feels  larger  than  that.  Leon  finds  himself  smiling  properly  this  time,  small  and  crooked.  The  sort  of  smile  that  appears  rarely  enough  to  feel  borrowed.  “I  wasn't  planning  to.”  He  reaches  down  and  retrieves  his  bag  from  beside  the  bench.  “But  I've  learned  that  plans  are  apparently  very  temporary  things.”  The  strap  settles  across  his  shoulder.  As  he  steps  towards  the  bus,  he  pauses  beside  her  briefly.  Close  enough  to  speak  without  raising  his  voice.

Being existential while pregnant has been an ongoing pattern. She wakes up from her deep sleep overthinking what's going to happen to her once everyone finds out. There's flashes of numbers, of hidden crevices of the city, of the hands of the baby's father reaching out and grasping at her cheeks to make her stay. She might as well be cushioned underneath his boots, a looming darkness and bloodshed just wanting to break free of its confines within the cracks of the ground beneath them . The positive pregnancy test wasn't a mark of a new life, it was a death sentence whether she wanted to believe it or not. There's no other way for her to interpret her odds other than that. She couldn't if she knew what was best for her and this child.

Fate isn't kind to those who are different, even less so to those being hunted.

It surprises her when Leon said that he wasn't originally coming. Usually at six in the morning with a bag packed at the bus stop, that means something. Bonnie had gotten off the phone with her cousin Lucy about needing somewhere to burrow until this is all over. There's a house in Cincinnati left untouched from when Lucy was in college and discovering herself just as Bonnie is now. It's a long way from New Orleans to Cincinnati. It's not the direct line she's taking, but it's her end destination if things don't go quite right. Bonnie doesn't quite disregard his sentiment, but she gives him another weak smile as she chews on it a bit more. Bonnie turns on her heels and climbs up the steep steps to the bus, the damp coils of her hair bouncing with each step she takes as she shuffles through the already crowded bus, finding the first open seat she could. There's a breath of relief, her duffel bag being placed between the window and her head as a sort of cushion.

"Don't wake me until there's somewhere worth stopping."

Because that too is something Bonnie can't stomach. Decisions. She gives Leon space between them as she curls into the corner of the window seat.

SETTINGS.

[01.] finding privacy in a cramped dressing room.

[02.] cramming into the backseat of a car together.

[03.] slipping into the lonesome alleyway behind the bar for "time alone".

[04.] pulling them away from a party after hours of relentless teasing.

[05.] getting handsy under the table at a fancy dining establishment.

[06.] taking the long way home and pulling over on a dark stretch of road.

[07.] staying behind at the venue after everyone else has left.

[08.] the hotel room door barely clicks shut before hands are on them.

[09.] a tent in the middle of nowhere where no one can hear anything.

NEW TERRITORY.

[10.] finding yourself staring at their mouth and getting caught.

[11.] pulling back from a kiss to look at them, then immediately going back in.

[12.] memorizing the shape of them for the first time with your palms.

[13.] that exploratory first kiss, reserved and shy.

[14.] a gentle first kiss that morphs into intense want.

[15.] feeling the shape of their body through their clothes.

[16.] asking for permission to remove one of their garments.

[17.] finally succumbing to the thick tension & colliding feverishly.

[18.] fumbling with buttons or zippers because your hands won't stop shaking.

[19.] admitting out loud that you've been thinking about this for a while.

HEATING UP.

[20.] pulling them into your lap in the midst of a heated kiss.

[21.] discovering that they're wearing [ GEAR / LINGERIE ] under their clothes.

[22.] kissing away from their lips, down the length of their neck.

[23.] desperately grinding on them through layers of clothing.

[24.] dirty talking directly into their ear to turn them on even further.

[25.] pushing them onto a piece of furniture before straddling them.

[26.] lifting them onto the countertop while making out.

[27.] tugging their hair to expose more of their throat to your mouth.

[28.] the wrecked way they say your name for the first time.

[29.] fabric tearing because neither of you has the patience for buttons.

[30.] removing an obstacle of clothing with your teeth.

UNRAVELING.

[31.] biting down on their shoulder to muffle how good it feels.

[32.] the sound they make when you find the spot that undoes them.

[33.] begging without any trace of pride left and meaning every word.

[34.] their composure cracking for the first time, they finally stop holding back.

[35.] repeating "don't stop" like it's the only language left in their mouth.

[36.] leaving possessive marks in places only they'll see.

[37.] whispering "look at me" right before you take them apart.

[38.] trying to be quiet and failing, so they clamp a hand over your mouth.

[39.] flipping positions so fast neither of you remembers who initiated it.

[40.] their nails dragging down your back hard enough to sting later.

[41.] being told to open your mouth and doing it before the sentence is finished.

[42.] having your hands pinned above your head.

[43.] the desperate scramble to get closer when there is no closer to get.

COMING DOWN.

[44.] fingers lazily tracing the marks they just left on your skin.

[45.] pulling the blanket over both of you without being asked.

[46.] that silent, dazed smile when they catch your eye across the pillow.

[47.] the shaky laugh when neither of you can remember where your shirt is.

[48.] going to get water and bringing a glass back for them without asking.

[49.] lying chest to chest, feeling their heartbeat slow back down against yours.

[50.] the quiet "hey" that means something completely different now.

[51.] "come here" said softly — not urgently. just wanting them close again.