#*sees moth flying around computer screen*

[stvrliing]

[binniesthighs]

coax the cold | reader x chan

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 

Genre: smut, lil bit of fluff 

Tags: softsub!chan, softdom!reader, virgin!chan, shyyyy!chan, lowkey awkward chan hehe, tinder hookup au, college au (very US college haha--or at least how I know it), guided sex, cowgirl, reader has nipple piercings sooo nipple play (my new kink) , hair pulling, use of petnames, praising, protected sex, fingering (f), someone’s impatient ;) 

Word count: 4.2k 

Recommended listening: bite by troye sivan 

*photocreds to OP! 

[02:05] 

you are messaging: chan 

me: i’m here by the bike locks? is this the right place? i don’t see a door anywhere? 

Buzzing above your head, a streetlight flickered from the erratic flying of moths to the addictive yellow glow. You were never really a squeamish person, but when it came to moths, there was only so much that you could take in the uncomfortable silence of the parking lot. 

A group of girls with their cropped shorts and bralettes came barreling out from a pair of doors farther down the building with music screeching from the phone speakers shoved in their tiny pockets. 

“You’ve got the addy right? You didn’t hear anything about it getting shut down? Becs was telling me that they were doing ratios so it looks like we can’t bring the guys--�� 

You tapped on your phone screen to see if you had received a reply or if the little flame icon would flash while you watched the minutes tick by. 

You had a little shame about the position that you were in, and you started to care less and less after seeing this guy’s pictures. He was somewhat illusive from what you could tell. The way that he texted in all lowercase made him seem approachable but he still wasn’t one ask for pictures of your tits or send the odd drunk text asking for you to come over. 

You had send the message at this hour. It was likely that you were impatient from “playing the game” but he seemed intriguing enough. 

The Friday night was filled with energy from the other side of the street across from the apartment complex. His place was situated right on the edge of campus next to a couple run down houses with windows lit by multicolored string lights and creaking doors which let out vibrating trap songs every time someone opened them. You had left a house similar to that before coming here right when it was getting boring and the boys were getting a bit handsier than you would’ve liked. You were done making out with randoms in hallways who tasted like watery beer and bad decisions. 

“Um, hey!  Are you y/n?” The stranger’s voice called from a fire escape door. 

He was dressed simply, sort of like someone who didn’t care, or someone who hadn’t left their room since the morning. In this lighting, his hair seemed to be some kind of dark burgundy brown which was a bit different from his caramel blonde hair from the photos. You would’ve felt lied to on another occasion, but the simple trait wasn’t a game changer. 

“Uh-yeah, that's me.” You smiled bluntly, not really sure even what to say in a situation like this. 

Up close you saw what the pictures really didn’t give him justice: a faint press of dimples and stretching veins on his hands. You assumed that he was a bit smaller under the giant black hoodie that he wore, but he had that same kind of coziness that was just a little too dangerous for a hookup. 

“I live on the third floor.” He informed you while leading up the hollow sounding cement staircase. 

“Mm. Okay.” 

The stranger turned his head briefly to smile back at you, “I-Its nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too.” You nodded, even though he didn’t see. 

This young man’s room was nearly exactly as you had pictured it to be element by element. Like every other boy his age, he had a gaming set up with color changing LEDs on the side of his machine and a smaller TV that was hooked up to some console you didn’t care to know the name of. The floors were nearly clean and the bed made--almost like he had planned for it to be that way; you could see the dirty clothes peeping from under his bed. 

The banged up beige walls were decorated with posters of indie bands that you had heard of once or twice. He had somewhat of an organized open closet that held types of CDs and vinyl too--the room itself smelled a bit dusty like the protective covers of those albums that you associated with a record store. 

“You can...we can sit down if you’d like.” He rather awkwardly gestured to his full sized bed. You prayed that once you pulled the covers back later there would be no white stains. 

“Okay.” 

“I could-um, turn on some music maybe? If you would like?” 

“Sure!” You piped trying to sound as confident and in control as possible--it was clear he wasn’t. 

He fidgeted with his phone and a bluetooth speaker which startled him when he turned it on. Just like the posters on his walls, he picked some soft sounding acoustic song with a crooning folk singer that sounded like he was singing with the exclusive use of his head voice. 

The stranger sat next to you clasping his hands in front of him and eyes glued to the floor. 

“Sorry...this is my first time doing this.” 

“Doing...?” 

He smoothed back his dark locks, “You know...meeting up with someone like this after meeting through an app. Um...what do you study?” 

“Biochem with a graphic design minor. You?” 

You weren’t sure if this was a hook up or an interview. 

“Poli Sci Human Rights stuff and sound engineering on the side.” 

“Huh...thats...cool.” 

Both of you nodded your heads in the silence to which he cleared his throat loudly to feel the space. 

“C-can I get you anything? You thirsty or something? I can steal some of my roommate’s Smirnoff Ice--” 

“--No. I’m fine. Thank you though.” 

He smiled sweetly to hid the fact that he was rubbing his sweating hands against his pants. 

“But...how this usually starts off, you could lay down and maybe, I could get on top?” 

“Oh!” He squeaked, “Sure! I can do that.” 

The bed groaned out with the shuffling of bodies and your hookup sighed out with a shaky breath and squirming legs. “Like this?” 

Rather than saying more, you crawled carefully over to him to the tune of his quickening chest and widened eyes. The shier he got, the harder it was for you to keep it in--he was ridiculously cute and your mind could only run wilder thinking about how he would react to everything you were about to show him. Your hands crept to the hem of his hoodie where you teased cold thumbs to his torso. 

“I’m gonna take this off you, okay?” 

Chan nodded eagerly with hair fluffing once you pulled it over his head. 

“Take mine off?” You hushed into his ear to which he smacked dry lips to obey you. 

He took his time pulling it off you; he savored the way that your bare body looked in front of him with glossy eyes that shone with the soft pastel glow from his computer in the opposite corner of his room. His chest heaved with his excitement which only held even more shallow breaths once your top hit the floor. 

“I-I can touch you?” 

“You can touch me anywhere you want to, baby.” You followed his head back to the pillow where you parted his quivering lips with your own. You could feel his shock get caught in his throat, then snake out hotly from his mouth to yours. He kissed you carefully, but growing in greed once you ran the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip. His curious hands wrapped around your back where he rubbed lightly at your sides, then traversed to your chest. You sunk deeper onto him to the tune of the music skipping to the next song which sounded nearly like a chilled out pairing of twangy guitars. As far as you could tell, it sounded something like Grateful Dead. 

As your hips melded into his, Chan’s whole body jerked feeling the sudden contact of your pussy grind against him. As you had expected, he had hardened instantly, and his length bobbed and tented the thick fabric of his sweats. You kissed him deeper, exploring the corners of his mouth and the inside of his lower lip while tugged at the plush skin gently. 

You should have guessed, but this boy didn’t have a clue how to take a bra off, so you did the job for him, sure to give him a display at the same time just for the dramatic effect of your surprise. 

“H-holy shit.” Chan oggled your breasts from below. You were certain that he didn’t notice the way that he slicked his tongue slowly over his lip at the sight of you. 

“You can touch them too.” You purred back into his ear, and he eagerly brought thrilled hands to your nipples. 

“They’re really...um, pretty.” He said with fluttering eyes from your breasts to your eyes. What a gentleman he was being. 

You toyed with your delightfully hardened bud in your hand while he played with the other. You pulled lightly at the sliver stud piercing there to show him that he could do the same and wetted your fingertips with your tongue to bring the wet to your skin. He kneaded at your breast firmly at first, cupping it in his hand, then moved his attention to your sensitive skin aroused just from the softest touches. 

Your tiny moans was all the validation that he needed to squeeze harder and pull rougher. It was as if you could see his cute pent up fantasies unfolding right before you in his sparkling brown eyes. 

“Mm, that feels so good.” You coaxed him further, going to grind you ass harder into his own lap and indulging in the way that even in your shorts, your folds could part around the thick imprint of his dick. 

You collapsed over his face to align your nipples nearest his tongue which he gave no more thought. Chan kissed at them with trailing breathy moans of his own that melted into you and vibrated against the metal made one with your hardened buds. He sucked too with a flicking tongue that sent heat straight down to your clit. Each time his flattened tongue would return with the wet of his spit, you felt weaker and weaker for this boy becoming more tantalizing by the second. 

“Want to--want to take off even more?” The phrase barely escaped your lips. 

“Mmhm.” He agreed, then took to shimming off his pants quickly and watching you do the same, revealing your sky blue panties that always soaked in the way that you liked them to. 

Your show continued on, and you took two of our fingers to rub over your clit while facing him. He too had wetted a spot into his boxers that adorably bunched around the upper parts of his thighs. With your free hand, you slithered to his erection and traced the outline, leaving him on a teasing squeeze. 

“B-before we do anything else...I have to tell you something?” The young man hesitated, causing you to draw your hand back. 

“What is it?” 

“This is like my, first time, first time. You know?” 

“You’ve never--” 

“--I know. It’s...kinda embarassing...and the fact that it’s happening this way...” 

“You don’t want it to happen this way?” 

Chan stammered, but shook his head vehemently, “That's not it. I just don’t want you to be dissapointed...since I don’t really...know what I’m doing too well.” 

He cracked with a hopeful smile, and you couldn’t stand it any more. 

“Babyboy, you’ve got nothing to worry about, I don’t mind.” 

“You don’t?”

“No,” You scooched next to him to twist a couple of his deeply cherry red strands into your fingers, “In fact, the fact that you haven’t done this before...really turns me on. Got it?” 

Chan gulped, “S-so...what-what can I do for you? I’ll do anything?” 

You pressed a light kiss into his forehead with a hand trailing up his thigh and back to his dick which still throbbed with his excitement. 

“How about, you show me how you jerk off this cock of yours, angel? And I can show you how I do the same? For starters?” 

He licked his lips once more, hooking his hands under his waistband and freeing his cock pink, and even thicker than you had imagined. You slid yourself unto his arm to cuddle up close to him, one of your legs swung over his so he could see exactly how you played with your clit. 

He wrapped his hand around his dick with a tug which elicited a tiny “ah!” from his mouth. 

“That’s it...jerk your cute cock for me...just like that.” 

His eyes devoured the circles made by your hand between your legs--you strung together your slick between your fingers to him to see. The clear stringy cum shone on your fingers, making the other boy whimper out seeing how it coated them. 

“I want to touch you too...down there, so bad.” He pleaded after pumping faster at himself. 

“Oh? Pretty boy would like to feel what it’s like to touch my dripping cunt, hm? You know that watching you makes me like this...?” 

Chan gasped out at the thought, letting out an “mmhm.” that cracked in his throat. 

“C-can I?” 

The heat of your naked bodies intermingled and turned the air of his small room dense, and each of your senses became hyper aware in your own arousal: every hair that stood on end, every flinch of his muscles beside you, you could feel it all. 

“Of course you can.” 

Chan shifted, leaving his dripping cock to pulse on your thigh where he flipped on his side to dip his hand between your folds and against your swollen clit. 

“Rub in circles baby, or whatever feels right to you...you’ll know if it feels good for me.”

He nodded with hands trickling down to your pussy heated between your legs. 

There’s something different about him, it could be the fact that you know next to nothing about him, or how he makes you bothered. 

Slowly, his fingers dip between your folds slicked from your teasing--and the way that there mere sight of him teases you. Your back arches from the press of his fingers, and your bud throbs under each and every swipe of his fingers. 

“Feels good?” He whispers into your ear, tickling it. 

“Mm-yes.” With your free hand, you tangle your fingers into his hair to pull right at the roots. You bite a kiss into his lip while drawing him closer to you. His lips are plush and quivering like they can’t decide what to do with all the simulation at once. 

“Harder...you can press harder,” The words were airy on your tongue while your hips writhed. 

“Like this?” He circled harder, wider with his digits mixing with your cum. 

The room appeared to blur in your euphoria. Coupled with the gentle music playing there was a kind of peace to this boy and everything about his little space. The further he continued, the more you longed for him fully--to feel every inch of his length inside of you as you fucked him for the first time. 

Your hand grabbed at his hair even tighter: a symbol that he took as a good sign. He laughed out a little at your response. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He coos. Against your thigh, his dick bobs with a flared tip, begging for more attention. 

You moan out for him as you dig your heels into his bed, and watch the way that your nipples harden around the metal piercings just from his touch. 

“Just you wait baby, we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” Your kisses pull at his lower lip as you fill his mouth with more moans. “You don’t even know how fucking tight it is, how it feels when I pull you inside of me and how the friction feels when you’ll fuck me.” 

Chan shivers from your words with a gulp and lets his fingers fall down to your entrance where is curiosity gets the best of him. You wince feeling his fingers fill your pussy with the wonderful way that you desperately close around his digits. 

“Shit.”

“Are you ready?” You ask him permission before trailing a hand down his torso. 

“--Yes,” He nods quickly, “Please. God--I want to feel it. Show me.” 

You twitch from the lack of contact to your pussy when you swing your leg to straddle him. Your hips meet his, and he struggles for a moment over where to put his hands. In one motion you grind your dripping folds over his bare dick, slicking him up and down with the light grind of your hips. A broken gasp escapes from his lips which you catch with your own mouth in a kiss. His closed eyes flutter from the feeling of having you so close...but not completely yet. 

“Got a condom, angel?” You caress down his cheek and let your thumb linger over his bottom lip. 

Chan gives you a grunt in response before contorting his body to the side table where he fumbles for the plastic wrapper. His curtains dance a little with a breeze caught in them, likely from the window being open. The air smells a bit like water, and it’s cool and crisp in your lungs. It cools the surging heat that your body succumbs to. 

You move for him to roll the condom on, tracing the muscles of his chest. His skin is untouched, unmarked, and suddenly all you crave is to see him bruised and scraped in pink. You dig your nails into his chest seeing the way he jerks at himself just a bit more while looking up at you in awe. 

“H-how do we do this?” He asks. 

“Just...do as I say...’kay?” 

Your date nods, letting you take complete control over his body. You start at his neck with kisses that turn heavier and heavier then darker and darker. He busies his hands by cupping into your breasts and tweaking with the hardened buds. 

“Just lay still, I can put in the work pup, okay?” You reach for his erection further down his body, and he finds handles in your hips and ass. 

“I can do that.” He sighs out with a little groan feeling your hand squeeze at him. 

At first, you tease your entrance with his head, barely letting him feel anything besides your clit against his pink tip. His skin grows dewy in his anticipation, and he licks at his lips which dry from each breathy exhale he uses to steady himself. You take your cum to wet at his dick with your hand, and push harder at his sides with your thighs. 

“Tell me if you ever want me to stop, got it?” 

Chan hastily nods, digging deeper into your sides. 

“Fuck, just--fuck me already...I can’t...it’s really...hurts to wait--” 

“Getting demanding now are you?” You tap a light slap to his face. “You’re doing what I say, not the other way around.” 

“S-sorry...” He whines. 

You resume, sitting properly on his length: all the way down, all the way to your cervix which screams in ecstasy from feeling him fill you so deeply. 

“Fuck.” He groans, but his curse is intertwined with a beautiful giddy smile. “Its really tight. Oh god--” 

You lean over him to attach your lips with his once more--a tiny distraction from the way that you start to roll your hips over his length. Chan freely lets his moans tickle your lips, each of them more gruff than the last as he looses himself in you and your rhythm. He’s dizzied: lightheaded--even you can tell. The new sensation takes him over, and he’s left a mess for you: hips trembling while you work your pussy up and down his length and his fingers claw into your shoulder blades. 

Chan’s Adam’s apple bounces as he gulps dry, forming praises the best that he can. “Feels...amazing...” 

You sit back, allowing his full length to tease your g-spot as you fuck him rougher, indulging yourself to all the pleasure that he can give you when you let him in as deeply as possible. He notices the change, and supports your body up with hands running up and down your chest, and down your arms where he pulls at the skin with his short nails. 

“You like this?” You gasp between each roll of your hips. “How my cunt feels on your cock? How I can use you like this? Use your words Channie.” 

“Yes. Fuck yes. Yo-You look...mm--” 

You giggle a little at the light pink blush to his cheeks and the way that he stumbles over his words. 

“Think you can last a little longer, baby?” Your fingers creep to his throat where you tease at squeezing his neck.  

He pauses, loosing himself in it again before giving you a rushed answer: “I think? It’s just...really intense I think that I’m c-close already.” 

You permit him only a couple more seconds of you, then glide off him carefully to which he whines out in confusion. 

“Your turn to fuck me now. Come on, behind me.” 

Chan looks bewildered and breathless, but he does as he’s told and tosses aside stray pieces of clothing on the bed to get to you. You hoist up your hips for him after burying your face into the mattress. To guide him further, you fuck your fingers for him too at this angle, only stopping once you feel the pressure of his cock once more. He slides himself in agonizingly slow until he bottom’s out with a choked moan. 

“Fuck me baby boy. You know what do to.” 

Your date’s hand finds your hips once more which he firmly grasps, then begins screwing into your pussy already blazing with heat and your orgasm building from before. He finds his pace after a while and fills the room with the fleshy sound of skin on skin. Your own fingers find their own way back to your clit where you rub in tandem with his thrusts. 

“Oh,” He gasps quietly. 

Your nails bury into the comforter of the bed, and your teeth clench harder as he milks himself into you and grows in pace. 

“Fuck yes baby, fuck me just like that. You’re doing so good; fucking my pussy just like you should...” 

Your orgasm quickens hearing the praises come from the bottom of your heart and the way that he grunts out hearing them. For someone who’s never done this before, it’s unbelievable how good he is at it all. 

He shudders, and you feel yourself tighten around him further, sensing both of your release coming near. Your hookup doubles over your back, burning you with the heat from his body as he fucks into you with reckless thrusts. 

“Shit, I’m so, so close.” He admits though clenched teeth. 

“Me too baby, finish me off, cum inside until you’re throbbing and you can’t take any-anymore.” 

A switches flips within this once innocent man, and you feel the bed creak as he kneels on one leg, then lifts one to stamp upon the bed to better his angle. The new position directly sends your g-spot into flames, and you shake from limb to limb feeling your orgasm right on the brink. 

He growls upon his release, finishing it off with shallow breaths once he nearly collapses over your back to feel each drop of his cum release inside of your pussy. You rub your orgasm out until you see lightning behind your eyelids and it’s heightened by the way that he twitches with his cum against your deepest spot. 

“A-are you okay?” Your adorable date immediately asks once you gasp and writhe under him. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine...fuck,” You laugh out, “That felt unreal Channie.” 

He shakes once his softening dick leaves your hole, and you get a good look at this stranger: chest flushed and hair messed over his forehead. He falls down to his side on the bed still breathless and letting out happy little laughs. 

“I’m sorry if that was like, really fast. It just all felt...so good, and, I couldn’t really control it--” 

“Mm, don’t you worry.” You sweep down to kiss his gasping mouth. Silently, you thank whoever it was in the universe that let you meet this boy on this night, and whoever willed you to leave that party. 

“What do we do now?” Chan asks, still bare for you to take in wholly. You wanted to tell him, but couldn’t find the words. He was kind of beautiful. 

“Whatever we want. I could go, or I could stay. Really anything goes.” 

His chest is peppered with your purple love bites, and you wish then to give him even more if you have the chance--whenever that might be. 

Chan tilts his head, “Stay?” 

“Well, we still need to get to know eachother don’t we?” 

The handsome stranger grins, and lets his hand trace the side of your face. The cool of the room feels addictive against you, and it weaves around your neck and against the little hairs of your arms. 

“You’re right.” He nods, “There's only so much you can tell about a person from these kind of dating apps.” 

“That’s true.” Your hand discovers his collarbones, which you trace lightly. “It’s nothing like the real thing.” 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes  @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[ghosttotheparty]

while the world ends around us (make believe with me)

6. I can’t even leave my room so I keep pouring AO3

And I've been looking for someone to put up with my bullshit I can't even leave my bedroom so I keep pouring And I ain't seen a light of day since, well, that's not important It's been long - Feeling Whitney // Post Malone

Lucas actually wakes up this morning.

It’s nice. Much better than laying against his wall all through the night, his eyes stuck on his laptop, watching Netflix or Youtube, or on his sketchbook, watching his pencil or pen or paint trailing across the page, leaving lines and smudges in its wake. And then looking up blearily when he realises he can see across his dark room because the sun is peeking through his blinds.

Today he wakes up when his phone starts buzzing and chiming next to his head, half under his pillow. It startles him, and he gasps as his eyes fly open, sitting up and muttering, “Jesus…” as he shuts off his alarm and tosses it to the floor next to him. It clatters against the wood and he winces, looking up at his door and running a hand through his hair.

He grabs food from the kitchen and eats it during his first class, scribbling the homework on a piece of paper he finds on the floor and doodling flowers and eyes as he forgets to pay attention. The teacher's voice turns into white noise.

- - -

He drifts off again in another class, and wakes up to a chorus of voices saying “Thank you,” and “Goodbye.” He doesn’t bother joining them, instead just clicking the hang up button and dropping his head to his arm, sighing and closing his eyes for a second before pushing himself up and groaning.

It’s the third red button he’s pressed just today.

He thinks about how many he presses a day.

Five classes, five red buttons.

Five days a week.

For weeks and weeks.

And weeks.

Christ.

Lucas huffs and pushes himself to sit cross-legged in front of the computer. He pushes it out of his mind, the remembrance that this is… it. All he has. This and a few texts from Kes and Jayden, usually about school or other kids from school, often complaining. Usually complaining. Sometimes he gets texts from Isa, silly selfies or pictures of birds. She knows he likes birds. Sometimes he gets texts from Noah, pictures of his art, drawings and paintings and doodles, or texts from Janna, which are never expected but always make him laugh. Sometimes Liv texts him just to check in.

It.

Homework and classes and red buttons and once-in-a-while texts from people he doesn’t see anymore.

And Jens, he remembers as his phone buzzes. And he smiles, but he really shouldn’t, so he pushes it away as he reaches to the floor and grabs the phone, reading.

guess what i’m making… 🥚🍳👨🏻🍳

He lets the smile push its way back onto his face (there’s no one to see anyway) as he shakes his head.

you didn’t give me time to guess, dummy

He lays on his back and holds his phone above his head, sighing as the bubble appears on his screen.

i’m impatient

Lucas scoffs, shaking his head again.

anyway good morning 😌, Jens texts a few seconds later.

good morning 🌞, Lucas responds even though it’s not really that sunny out. how are you today

well i woke up to my sisters arm hitting me in the face and i just burned an egg so that’s just kind of how it’s going so far you?

Lucas smiles again.

pretty dry so far but who knows

Like it’s a trigger, Lucas’s door swings open loudly and he tilts his head back, looking at his father upside down.

“...Yes?”

“You have to do the dishes, yeah?” he says flatly.

“But I did them last night,” Lucas says, still holding his phone above his head. He doesn’t look at it, even as it gives a short buzz with Jens’s response.

“And I brought dinner for you.”

“You brought chicken home and I cooked it.”

It’s true. Lucas had to Google how to do it, and it was the blandest, driest chicken he’s ever had, but it sufficed. There was nothing else in the kitchen he could have made. Back home, there’s usually things in the cupboard to micwave.

“Lucas—” His dad pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, huffing. Exasperated, like Lucas is the issue here. “Just do it.”

“Fine, whatever,” Lucas mutters, looking at his phone, but he doesn’t get to read the message before his dad snaps at him.

“Don’t whatever me,” he says sharply.

“Fine,” Lucas says, stopping him. “Yes. I will.”

He leaves without shutting Lucas’s door.

Lucas takes a second, huffing at the open hallway. He hates him. And he knows he Shouldn’t, because He’s His Father, but he can’t not. It’s his face. Even before Lucas knew about how much of a dick he is, his face told Lucas everything. Always angry, disappointed. Always bitter, like he tried to sue the universe and lost. His eyes always look pinched. Especially when he looks at Lucas.

He doesn’t know why, honestly. It’s not like he even really knows Lucas. Anything about Lucas that’s actually important. Not that Lucas would tell him anything important.

(He has a list of things he doesn’t ever plan on telling him. His being gay is the top one. He’s never heard his father talk about queer people, but he doesn’t have to to know that he’s probably a bigot. His art is another thing. He doesn’t want to listen to his father talk about how it’s not a Viable Career Option, or how it’s a Waste of Time.)

He looks at his phone after a second.

😔 boring days suck wanna call later and do hw together?

Lucas exhales, trying to sigh away his frustration.

yes ofc you said you can do math right?

He shuts the door (quietly) while he waits for Jens’s answer.

i’m a math genius call me fuckin newton

Lucas scoffs, shaking his head as he sits back on his mattress, leaning back so his head falls off the edge, upside down.

great so that means you’ll do my hw for me

Lucas bites his lip, trying to suppress the smile that appears in anticipation as Jens types.

hmmmm what’s in it for me?🤔

uhhhhh moral support

Lucas grins as you amaze me appears on his screen, followed by oh i can teach you math, which promptly makes him roll his eyes and reply with an exaggerated uuuuuuggggggghhhhhhhhh.

Jens replies with oop i gotta go, and then, as Lucas prepares to send the eye-rolling emoji, see you after school🙃.

Lucas sends the emoji anyway, along with you’re the worst.

A few seconds later, his phone buzzes with love you too <3 , and his lingering smile falters. He sits up, swallowing and setting the phone down.

Because the pause in him, the skipped beat of his heart, the way the words tug at him even as he reads and rereads and rereads them, even as his brain knows the irony, the playfulness, the mindlessness in Jens’s saying it, can only mean one thing, and he hates himself for it.

Lucas is fucked.

- - -

So he ignores it, of course. It can’t be happening. It can’t. He’s known Jens for a few days. There’s no reason for his stomach to flutter the way it does when he gets a text from him, or when his name lights up his computer screen on Google Meets.

“He-ey,” Jens sings when Lucas answers, and a smile flickers across Lucas’s face involuntarily.

“Hey.”

“How you doing?”

“Fine,” Lucas answers, neglecting to mention the rest of his day, which was absolutely not fine. The door slams are still ringing in his head. “You?”

“Eh.”

“Hm,” Lucas chuckles. “Hey, who's your maths teacher?”

“Clark,” Jens says, looking at Lucas with his pixelated eyes. Even glitchy and blurry, Lucas can see that he’s beautiful.

“Great,” he says, ignoring it. “Have you done homework for lesson seven?”

“I absolutely have not,” Jens chirps. “I can do it and show you how to solve the problems.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Mhmm.” Jens puckers his lips, nodding and furrowing his brows. “Mhmm, mhmm. Well. I could do it and send you the answers.”

“That sounds great,” Lucas says, sarcastically sweet.

Jens snickers, reaching past his laptop, and Lucas watches as the collar of his shirt falls, a section of his skin exposed before he sits back, pulling a messy notebook, loose papers hanging out of it, and calculator with him.

“Wanna read while I work?” Jens asks, oblivious to the heat in Lucas's chest.

“Oh, yeah, I can do that.”

Lucas barely even processes the words he reads to Jens, his brain somehow paying more attention to the quiet, hushed murmurs of numbers coming from Jens.

He hears Jens mutter, “Divide by six…” and click his tongue in thought a few times just as Lucas reads, “‘...like moths against the whispering and the champagne and the stars.’”

He listens to Jens intently, even though half (or maybe just a quarter) of his mind is on the book, and even though he only catches every few words. Some words, sixty, sixteen, seventy seven, are sharp and cut right through their connection. His murmurs are nearly completely unintelligible, but Lucas listens like he’s actually trying to learn something.

It’s not until Jens says, “Lu?” softly, that Lucas realises he’s stopped reading completely, the book fallen shut in his lap with his index finger holding the page loosely, and he startles, looking directly into Jens’s eyes. His face burns up at the nickname, and at the fact that he had been so enraptured by Jens muttering maths to himself that he had forgotten completely to read.

“I— Yeah, sorry,” he says, looking away and opening the book, hoping Jens can’t see how hot his face is.

“Why’d you stop?” A smile is spread across Jens’s face. Like he knows.

“I—” Lucas stutters again. “You seemed to focussed, I didn’t wanna distract you.”

“Aw.” Jens tilts his head. “That’s sweet.” There’s a pause, and he looks down, flipping a paper that’s out of Lucases sight, before he says, “I’m almost done, I can send you pictures after so do this one.”

“Yeah,” Lucas says, trying not to let out another stammer. His face burns again. He hadn’t realised how long he’d been listening.

Jens clicks his tongue as he thinks again, and Lucas hears the clicking of his calculator and the scratch of his pencil on paper.

“Add on both sides,” he says quietly, and then, “Oh, that’s not right,” flipping his pencil over to erase it.

Lucas snickers.

“Don’t you laugh at me,” Jens says, a smile playing at his lips. “You know you can’t do better.”

“You’re not wrong.”

When Jens finally finishes the problem (he has to try again two more times; he’d skipped the problem to leave it for the end when he’d started) he texts pictures of it to Lucas, and Lucas closes the book, folding the corner of the page.

He can feel Jens watching him as he copies down the answers.

“Number four is seventy three?” he says, zooming in on the photo.

“Thirteen,” Jens says, his voice softer than Lucas expected.

“Oh, that makes more sense.” Lucas writes it. “Why the hell do your ones look like sevens?”

“I don’t know,” Jen says defensively, making a face. “It’s never been a problem before.”

“It’s weird.” He’s met with silence. “If you’re making a face at me, I can’t see it.”

Jens lets out a laugh, and Lucas grins. If sunshine made a sound, it would be Jens’s laughter.

“How do you know me so well?” Jens asks, still laughing.

Lucas giggles, snorting and shaking his head as he looks up to see Jens’s face brightening even more.

“That was so cute,” Jens says lightly, and Lucas feels like he’s on fire.

“Shut up. What’s number seven? It’s cut off in the picture.”

“Oh, shit, sorry. That’s…” Jens’s brows furrow. “Six, four… one—”

“You thought it was a seven, didn’t you?”

“Shut up. One point three two.”

“Thank you-u-u.”

Jens is quiet as Lucas copies the rest of the answers. He shakes his head at how messy Jens’s work is, shocked and honestly impressed with how his brian works, numbers and lines scattered across the page, the answers in neat, little boxes.

“Do any new drawings?” Jens asks abruptly as Lucas copies the last one.

“Huh?”

“Have you drawn anything new?”

“Uh..” Lucas finishes writing the final answer and boxing it like Jens’s. “Yes?”

“Oh?” When he looks up, Jens is resting his chin on his hands, smiling. “Tell me.”

Lucas pauses, biting his lip. He’s only done one, and it’s ripped and crumpled and shredded in the corner of his room in a plastic bin.

“I did one, but it was shit, so it’s in the trash—”

“What was it?”

“Uh, that’s not important.”

“...Okay.” He says it softly. Lucas is grateful. “Can you show me a drawing? Or like a sketch, or…”

Lucas smiles. Jens is clearly out of his element. But he’s trying.

“I might have a picture,” he says, moving the maths homework away. “Most of my sketchbooks are still in boxes.”

“You haven’t unpacked yet?” Jens asks as Lucas scrolls though his camera roll, photos of Utrecht mainly, with a few of homework and screenshots of messages from the guys scattered in there.

“No,” he says simply.

“Why?”

“Eh.” Lucas finds one of a drawing and looks at it, contemplating. It’s a sketch of Noah that he did a little after moving. He’d meant to send it to him, even considered mailing it with a little letter and some Antwerp souvenirs like a post card or something, but he never did. He sends it to Jens. “I don’t really plan on staying here that long, just until this summer.”

“Oh. Oh, woah.”

Lucas beams without wanting to, watching Jens’s head duck as he looks at his phone.

“That’s so good, Lucas.”

“Thank you,” Lucas responds, his voice small. He shifts in his seat on the mattress, fidgeting as Jens looks up at him.

“That’s so good.”

“Who is it?” Jens looks back down, moving his fingers across the screen, and Lucas can tell he’s zooming in on the photo.

“My friend from Utrecht, he’s an artist too.”

“Oh!” Jens looks up again. “Speaking of artists. I have a friend I think you’ll like.”

“You think I’ll like him because he’s an artist?”

Jens drops his phone.

“I think you’ll like him because he’s a cool guy, and you already have something in common.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“You wanna meet him?” Jens asks, almost excitedly.

Lucas stares at him, tilting his head.

“Not in person,” Jens says. “Obviously.” He makes a face. “Sometimes we have, like, a group Zoom call with the guys, do you wanna join sometime?”

Lucas pauses, hoping Jens can see the despair in his face.

The guys.

“Uh— Yeah, why not?”

Jens beams.

It makes the screen glow brighter.

[worldwidemochiguy]

Yandere! bts reactions — You’re scared of a bug

Namjoon

“Namjoon-oppa!”

Namjoon glanced up at you from the file he was perusing to see your eyes blown wide with fear.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He asked, already standing up.

“There’s a bug under a cup in the kitchen… can you get rid of it? Please?” Namjoon smirked at your desperate tone.

“Of course I will, darling, but first, let’s negotiate what you will do for me in return.”

“Oppa!” You whined, “Please just get it out of the house! I really hate bugs.”

“If you hate them so much, then surely you’ll be willing to do something to ensure I get rid of them properly.”

“Um… I could… make dinner for us tonight?”

“I’m expecting something a little more than that.”

“…I could give you a ‘thank you’ shoulder massage?”

Namjoon sighed.

“I mean of a sexual nature, darling.”

“Oh!” Your lips formed into a circle as you blushed, and Namjoon was inspired.

“Perhaps you can put those sweet lips of yours-“ he muttered, reaching a finger up to tug your bottom lip downwards, “to use, huh, darling?”

“And you’ll get rid of the bug if I do?” You tried to say, though it was difficult with his finger in your mouth.

“I promise, darling.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, before sinking to your knees. Namjoon smirked. He always got what he wanted in the end.

Jin

“You look so cute like that, jagi.”

You didn’t look at him, tear-filled eyes still fixed on the spider making its way up your blanket. You hadn’t expected much to happen when Jin went to the kitchen to make some more popcorn — after all, what movie night is complete without popcorn? — but you had screamed, bringing him running back into the room when you noticed the spider crawling inexorably towards your face.

You were deeply afraid of spiders. This was one of the first things Jin had learnt about you. He had gallantly offered to get rid of a spider that was on your coat during your first date. You wish he still did those kinds of things.

“Jin, please, please, just get rid of it.” You whispered, prompting Jin to laugh.

“But you look so sweet like this. So scared, it’s adorable. I want to see this face more often.”

You choked on a sob as the spider inched closer to you. It was now less than an inch away.

“Jin, stop being an asshole and just fucking get rid of it!” You yelled suddenly, desperate to get the thing off you. You knew immediately it was the wrong decision when Jin tensed up.

Without another word on his part — the only words spoken by you were frantic apologies and excuses — he strode over and caught the spider in his palm.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, tha-“ Jin stooped your grateful rambling with a sharp glance.

“Now,” he muttered, focusing on the spider in his palms as if he was talking to it. “How shall I use you to punish her for her behaviour?”

You gasped, “No, Jin, please don’t- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- Jin please just take it away, please.”

Jin only looked at you and smiled.

Yoongi

You knew flies probably weren’t capable of emotion, but that didn’t stop the fruit fly trapped in the upside down transparent cup you imprisoned it in giving you a baleful glance.

So what? You didn’t like bugs, it wasn’t not a big deal. You just wanted it out of the house.

You strolled into Yoongi’s office where he was deeply focused on his work, headphones covering his ears.

“Babe!” You shouted, but you might as well have said, “I want a divorce!” Because your husband wouldn’t have heard you either way.

Sighing exasperatedly, you moved to the wall and yanked out the power cable connected to his computer. The screen winked off and you watched Yoongi panic for a second, making you feel a bit guilty, before his eyes followed the now-lax power cable and found you standing sheepishly at the end of it.

“What?” He snarled, yanking off his headphones.

“I… uh, there’s a bug. In the kitchen. Under a cup.” With each halting sentence, his glare became more withering. “Could you get rid of it, please?”

He growled, but did get up, stalking towards you and yanking the power cable out of your hand and plugging it back in.

“Since you asked so nicely, I will, but afterwards, I’m coming back here to punish you for disturbing me. Got that, babe?”

Hoseok

“Aish, sunshine, you’re so cute!”

“Hoseok! Please just get it out of- ah it’s coming for me again!” You squealed, hiding behind Hoseok’s body as the moth attempted another dive-bomb. Your boyfriend was hardly suitable cover, given how hard he was laughing.

“I really hate moths! Please just get rid of it.” You whimpered, plastering yourself against Hoseok’s back and he took pity on you, turning around so he could encase you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, sunshine, but you’re just so cute like this! But I shouldn’t have laughed, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok- AH!” You screamed as you saw the moth come flying straight for you again, your head made an easy target propped up by Hoseok’s shoulder.

You buried your face in his chest and let out a little sob, ignoring the way his shoulders shook in poorly restrained laughter.

“It’s ok, baby, I have an idea!” Hoseok told you, before reaching out to switch off the light. The only light was now provided by the open window through which the sun spilled into the shadowy room. You were just able to discern the shadow of the moth as it darted out.

“Thank you!” You burst out, before covering your boyfriends face in kisses wherever you could reach. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best boyfriend in the whole world!”

Hoseok accepted your gratitude with a sunny smile and his own kisses in reply to yours.

“It’s ok baby, but honestly I do feel bad for the moth.”

“What? Why? It kept flying at my face, it was definitely evil.” You insisted, and Hoseok’s grin grew until his eyes turned into crinkled crescents.

“He was probably so confused, he was torn between the brightest, most radiant sun to exist… and some random ball of fire in the sky.”

You were worried the moth might come back, for you were pretty certain your cheeks were glowing so intensely as you blushed that they had just become the brightest thing for miles around.

Jimin

You felt a slight itch on your leg. For a while you ignored it, determined to finish the chapter of the book you were engrossed in, but the itching feeling persisted until, finally, you caved and reached down.

But what met your finger was not smooth skin, but something weird and fuzzy. It was predominantly shock that made you scream when you saw the spider on your leg. You had never really been that scared of bugs, but you certainly hadn’t been expecting one to be chilling out on your ankle.

After the brief moment of shock, you shrugged and brushed it off you. However, that was not going to be the only shock you received. You heard a distant crashing, and then thumping footsteps drawing closer and closer, until the door was thrown open.

“Get off her!” Jimin screeched as he burst into the room, dressed in his pyjamas and bathrobe. He looked around frantically, his body sunken into a karate stance, trying to identify the threat, before realising there was none.

“Baby, are you alright? What happened?” He rushed to you, frantically checking all over your body and ignoring your stream of ‘I’m fine, I’m okay, it was nothing.”

He rushed to the window, wrenching it open and leaning out. For one horrible second, you thought he might throw himself out, but he was only looking around to see if your possible assailant had somehow escaped through there.

“Running away like a coward, huh? I’ll get you! You’ll die for even touching her!” Jimin screamed, even as you tugged desperately on his robe, urging him back inside.

“Jimin, Jimin, Jimin,” You repeated over and over, trying to catch his wild gaze, “It’s ok, it was nothing, no one hurt me, I just got scared by a bug! That’s it!”

“T-that’s it?” Jimin paused, seeming uncertain even as you nodded.

After a moment of stillness, he crumpled, pulling you into him so tightly you could barely breathe.

“Ah, baby! Don’t ever do that again! I was so worried about you! Never let me hear you scream like that again, you understand? My heart can’t take it!”

Taehyung

“It’s not funny!” You cried at Taehyung’s phone as he recorded you with it.

“You’re wrong there, baby, it is very funny!” He crowed, almost dropping his phone in another hoot of laughter as you screamed again. The bug had just crawled onto your forehead.

You were deathly afraid of insects, something that Taehyung had never been afraid to tease you about. Even now, with tears streaming down your face and an expression of betrayal, Taehyung was filming you with glee, probably to use for blackmail material or to put in a photo album to cheer him up when he was down.

“Taehyung, please! You’ve filmed me enough, can’t you just — ah! It moved again! — can you please just get it off me!” You sobbed, and Taehyung sighed deeply and pressed the hand that wasn’t holding his phone against his heart.

“Hearing you plead like that really is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.” You screamed again, and he smirked. “Apart from your scream, of course.”

“P-please!” You wailed, and it seemed like Taehyung had a change of heart. Still holding up his phone, he moved closer to you and reached up a hand. You felt the bug, which was now inching its way towards your eyebrow, twitch in apprehension.

With one finger, Taehyung reached out and squished the bug against your skin.

“There you go, baby. You’re welcome.”

You screamed again.

“Taehyung! That’s disgusting! I just wanted you to get it off me! Why would you do that?”

“I already told you,” Taehyung smirked, “Your scream is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. I wish I could listen to it all day.”

His laughter chased you as you ran to the bathroom to wash off the mangled remains of bug mashed against your skin.

Jungkook

When Jungkook came home to find you sat on the couch scrolling through Netflix, he was surprised to say the least.

He had texted you to let you know he was going to be stuck at work until the early hours of the morning, and made you promise to go to bed without him so that you would get enough sleep. Now he found you disobeying his orders, but something still puffed up inside him in pleasure, knowing that you didn’t want to go to bed without him.

“I thought I told you to go to bed.” was Jungkook’s greeting. Once you realised he was there — you didn’t see him at first because you were so exhausted — you brightened considerably, getting up from your nest of blankets to hug him. He accepted it, tugging you into his arms for a moment, before pulling back to fix you with a stern glance.

“Princess, you need to get enough sleep.”

“I did try!” You protested, and Jungkook had to stop himself from cooing at your sleepy voice. “There was a fly buzzing around the bedroom and it bothered me so much I had to come out here.”

“A bug was bothering you?” Jungkook glowered, “Not for long, Princess. Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of it for you and then we can go to bed together.”

“My hero!” You giggled, pecking his cheek.

He smiled at you fondly, before advancing to the shut bedroom, a rolled up newspaper as ammunition and a fierce expression on his face. No one messed with his Princess and survived, not even bugs were safe from Jeon Jungkook’s wrath.

[hopeatermeetsgodzilla]

Chapter 15

“-and he’s lived on Mara since then.” Madison finished, Florès humming and nodding in acknowledgment. The younger girl was currently reading the files about the Titans as the mechanic tinkered away on the new model for the ORCA.

It’s size was between the original prototype and the smaller one he had given Emma. This one was supposed to have a wider range of available sounds than just the options to make a Titan stand down or provoke them to a fight. “Damn, that’s a sucky backstory. And you’re telling me Rodan jumping in a volcano in an effort to be with his wife in death may be related to why he can live in one?”

“Yeah. I mean, Mothra can reincarnate.” Madison said with a shrug. “Magic that allowed someone to survive lava doesn’t seem that far-fetched.”

“Magic doesn’t exist.” Florès said, shaking his head as he got up from his chair, walking to the coffee machine and mini-fridge he kept in his office. “It’s just science no one has figured out yet. You want any snack?”

“Chocolate. And how would you explain reincarnation then, uh? Or Isla de Mara just... vanishing without a trace?”

Florès seemed to think for a moment. “Either Mothra is actually a really long family line of moth Titans who leave notes to each other in order to pull the longest scam in history- catch,” He threw a kit-kat at Madison. “-or the theory of genetic memory is actually right. As for Mara, I dunno. Probably something with physics...”

“What would you do if you learned magic was actually a whole science in itself?” Madison asked as she opened the candy. ��Would you be mad?”

“I would be mad, yes. What about the last ones?” He asked as he started the coffee machine.

“Alright, so... Ghidorah...” Madison started. “There’s three of them, but we don’t have records of their actual names. But we do have nicknames: One who is Many, Golden Demise, Death Song of Three Storms... wow, there’s a lot.”

“Just give me facts, like with the others- powers, known relationship with other Titans, current whereabouts, and whatever backstory Dr. Chen scrounged up.”

“Alright, so: last seen near Mara, and disappeared at about the same as the Island. Everyone seems to hate them, and the feeling is mutual.” Madison turned to look at Florès, breaking her kit-kat up.

“What about their powers?” Florès asked, pouring himself a cup and coming closer.

“Uh... bio-electrical, energy draining, meteokinesis, flight of unknown nature, suspected to have a high level of telepathy, independency from oxygen...” Madison listed off.

Florès nodded, taking his seat again. “Is it noted somewhere why he doesn’t need oxygen. Like, are they deep-sea weirdos, or something?”

“... Look in the opposite direction.”

“What do you mean, look in the opposite direc- no.”

“... yeah... it says in the ‘myth’ section that they fell from the stars...”

“No no no no no no no- we’re dealing with fucking aliens!?” Madison nodded. “¡Qué cojones...!” Florès snapped, slamming his cup on his desk. His attention then snapped at the unfinished ORCA. “I need to finish this.”

“Most of the myths they’re in also all portray them as malevolent.” Madison added. “Like, ‘inspiration for the Christian Devil’ malevolent.”

“Mmm. Don’t like that.”

“What, you’re Christian?”

“Raised catholic, yeah.” Madison eyebrows shot up to her forehead. “Comes with the territory when you grow up in Venezuela. But I doubt these guys fell from grace, or anything.”

Madison hummed, going back to looking at the computer screen, even if she wasn’t reading anymore. “I talked to one of them, you know?”

“Did you?” She nodded. “How?”

“I... one of them was able to get outside of his body.” Madison started, Florès nodding and taking a sip from his cup. “And he talked to me. Brought me to mom when she came to get me in Antartica. And... told me he and his brothers just wanted to be free.” She buried her face in her hands. “I should’ve trust my instincts, should’ve known he was lying...”

“Well, you’re twelve.” Florès noted, patting Madison on the shoulder. “You can’t know everything. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Plus, you’re not the one who freed him now.” He then turned back toward the ORCA. “If I had been in your mother’s position, I would’ve done the same. And I can guarantee you that your mother would’ve still saved you if she knew all that stuff. So stop blaming yourself for getting kidnapped, alright Russellita?”

“Alright.”

-

Oh, that rock he was laying on was comfy.

Rodan never wanted to get up, curling up a bit even as he finally opened his eyes. The sun had risen a while ago, indicating he had slept in. Which made sense, seeing as he had stayed up talking and star watching with Ghidorah, who had been... surprisingly nice.  They just talked about places they remembered seeing beyond the world Rodan knew, pointing at locations in the sky when it turned dark.

Now that it was locked away from reality, the night sky had gained it’s stars back. He used to think that Ghidorah were vengeful souls back from the dead, but he supposed that stars being a map of the world beyond their own made just as much sense as them being the imprint left by the departed.

Nevertheless, the scenery this morning was still very pretty. With the sun reflecting in the water with thousand of sparkles and illuminating the golden strands of hair around him, it was as if light was bouncing off of everything.

Wait a minute...

Rodan opened his eyes more fully, looked up, and realized with horror that he was laying in Ichi Ghidorah’s lap, who had his hair undone for once and forming a curtain around him. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Rodan screeched, jumping to stand up and suddenly very awake, only to stumble and land on his ass. “How long have you been watching me!? And why was I sleeping on you!?”

“Since my brothers woke up a while ago. And you fell asleep while we were star watching last night. The ground didn’t look very comfortable, so I moved you.” Ichi answered, still sitting as he leaned toward Rodan, who looked around him with a panicked expression. “You asleep looked like you were agreeing...”

“Okay, don’t manhandle me when I’m unconscious. And where did those two go!?”

“Ni is exploring what’s left of the human settlement. San is looking for rocks.” Ichi answered coolly, hoping the little bird would calm down eventually.

For now, to no avail. “Why are they doing that!?”

“Ni wants to see if there’s any humans left. As for San, he just wants to find rocks.” There was a pause, Ichi debating whether or not he should open up a bit. “He will also inevitably smash one of these rocks on my head as revenge for telling him to do things, but that can’t be helped.”

“... there’s no humans left.” Rodan angrily muttered, finally taking his eyes off Ichi. “They all left some times before you came here, and those that didn’t were probably flung away when I fell for the humans’ bait.”

Ichi raised an eyebrow at that. “Bait?”

“Humans figured out how to create calls.” Rodan explained bitterly. “They used one to bait me into flying into your storm.”

Ichi chuckled. “Oh, we’d have found you either way. The whole reason we came here in the first place is because San wanted to see you.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t have had to fight off the three of you in the middle of a raging storm.” Rodan retorted, bringing his knees up to his chest.

Ichi simply shrugged, going into meditation. {Ni, there’s no humans left. They all left before we came here.}

[Are you sure?]

{The little bird told me they left.}

[You’re really just going to believe him?]

{What?}

[What if it’s a trick?]

{What would he get out of lying about that!?}

(Also, he’s telling the truth.)

[Hello, brother San. How do you know that?]

(Hi Ni! Humans have a really strong emotional presence despite being so small and stupid, so they’re really easy to spot. Along with Rodan, we’re the only ones here.)

{And you didn’t tell us anything for some reason because...?}

(I thought you guys already knew! I mean, I get Ni not noticing because he’s so bad at it- no offense-)

[None taken.]

(-but brother Ichi!? You should’ve noticed ages ago.)

{Okay then-}

[Brother San, we haven’t even been there for a full day yet.]

(You know what I mean.)

{You two-}

[Anyway, I think humans figured out electricity, and how to generate it.]

{What!? Are you su-} Ichi was snapped out of his thoughts as he felt something lean on his leg. He opened his eyes, looking down at Rodan. The smaller being was leaning his head on his thigh, eyes closed. Was he... was he sleeping?... no, just resting. {The both of you come back as fast as you can. Ni, bring back some evidence.}

(But-)

{That’s not negotiable, San.} Ichi ignored his brothers as he put his hands on Rodan. One under his back, and the other one under his knees.

Rodan opened his eyes, confused. “What are you- gah!” Ichi had lifted him, only to promptly set him down on his lap. He chuckled as Rodan’s face started glowing brightly, twirling a lock of red hair around his long fingers. “Wha- telling you not to manhandle me when I’m sleeping wasn’t code for ‘do it when I’m awake’-”

“Don’t move.” Ichi told him, fingers carding through long red hair and separating it. “How do you usually style it?”

“Uh... simple ponytail, and I use another twisted strand to keep it together.” Rodan explained hesitantly. He looked down as Ichi started humming a little tune to himself, taking a strand of hair right above his ear and braiding part of it.

“How high do you keep your hair?” Ichi asked Rodan, who hummed in confusion. “I know it’s not high like San’s, but it doesn’t seem to be at the base of your head either.”

“J- just do it however you want.” There was a pause were there was no movement, Rodan fidgeting. He then brought a hand to the back of his head, claws tapping the middle of the back of his skull. “It doesn’t immediately become a problem if it loosen up, that way.”

“You don’t have to be so shy, you know? Why don’t you tell me what happened to you while we were sleeping.” Rodan shrunk on himself at that. Ichi leaned down as the other started debating it to himself, taking the braid within his teeth before lifting a sleeve up. He tied off one of the short ribbons he usually kept for his hair.

“I... became the Fire Guardian.” Rodan finally admitted.

Ichi hummed, starting to gather hair for the ponytail, letting go of the braid in the process. “What happened to the last one? The bird with the colorful feathers... what was her name again?”

“Quetzalcoatl. And she... died. Out of control volcanic eruption, the smoke is what killed her.” Rodan’s voice had broken on that fourth word.

Ichi raised an eyebrow, tying the ponytail with the ribbon. “You two were close?” He was pretty sure the only people Rodan had been close to was Godzilla.

“We met after you guys got sealed.” Was the only context he offered.

“I see...” Better not push the subject for now less San’s plan gets ruined from trying to dig too deep too fast, but it would be interesting ammunitions for later. He tied the braid around the base the ponytail, passing whatever wasn’t braided under it. “Done~”

Rodan hesitantly pat the braid on the side of his head, before shaking his head a bit. It seemed to be holding better than normal. He was about to thank Ichi, before remembering he was still sitting on his lap and jumping off with a yell. This time, he was able to right himself, and looked at him. Since the Ghidorah was sitting down, the two were at mostly the same eye level. He coughed hesitantly, the flush on his face lessening a bit. “Th- thank you.”

“You’re welcome, firebird.” Rodan’s flush immediately came back, his face almost glowing a golden color.

“Still better than ‘little bird’...” He muttered to himself. Rpdan than turned, facing away from Ichi. “I’m going to go for a short flight, ascertain the damage you and your brothers did. Do not try anything while I’m gone, got it?”

Ichi chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re trying to be intimidating. And understood. I’ll be right there when you come back.”

“... Good.” And with that, a strong breeze lifted an extremely flustered Rodan of the ground, leaving Ichi alone and in a good mood.

Said good mood immediately faded away as he felt something collide with his head. He looked to his right, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Ni who had smashed something made out of wood on his head, “Really?”

“I wasn’t finished searching, and you were getting too touchy-feely.”

“Yes Ni, that’s the plan.” Ichi reminded his brother. “Get close to Rodan in order to manipulate him.”

“You were getting touchy-feely- here’s the human tech.” Ni dumped what was left of the pole on Ichi’s lap. The older brother took a look at it, frowning. Certainly what was needed to transport energy from one place to another, but not enough to not lose any in travel, and there was too many pieces.

“That doesn’t make sense.” Ichi grumbled. “This is too primitive compared to the flying machines they had. It should be more in line with it. The other civilizations we saw always had a consistent level of tech on the entirety of their planets, if not always in line with other civilizations.” 

“Not all of them.” Ni reminded him. “You remember the Exif, right?”

“Of course I remember the Exif.” Ichi hissed. The first (and the last) civilization to ‘loan’ Ghidorah from the Xiliens for a period of time that could be counted in years. In this case, for the upper class to intimidate the lower ones into believing their Gods had come to smite anyone who would dare oppose them. And since Gods were supposed to be immortal, they had stayed for several Exif centuries.

But then the Exif ended up believing their own lies, and upon San’s request, found a way to disconnect them from the Conductor. Enveloping their planet in an endless storm and watching it die had given Ghidorah such a rush they just knew that it’s what they had been taken away from their own world for.

“Not sharing everything in an equal manner between all seems like something they would do.” Ni commented. “And humans always lived in small, separated communities with a clear leader. Maybe it became more apparent as time went on? It goes very fast to them, after all.”

Ichi groaned, taking one last, distasteful at the components in front of him. “Still. There’s never that big of a gap in technology on singular planets. If they have figured out space travel, the furthest they would be able to go to is their moon.” A rock landed on the back of Ichi’s head. “Welcome back, San.”

The youngest brother sat down, giggling as Ni gave his own snort. His arms were full of rocks “Sorry, needed to get it out after you interrupted my search for cool rocks.”

“Did you find any cool rocks?”

“Not really...” San whined, handing the rocks to Ichi, who started looking them over. Most of them had the same hard quality as the ground. “You called us back before I could find good ones... oh! But I did find this!” Out of the tissue he usually draped himself with, San got out a glossy black stone that had a powdery, golden sheen to it.

Ni’s eyes widened by a fraction, making a grabby motion for it. When San shook his head, his face soured. “Why?”

“I want to give it to Rodan. Show of goodwill.” San explained. “By the way, where did he go?”

“For a flight. He wants to see how dead his island is.” Ichi answered off-handedly. “Are you sure that plan of yours is going to work? Fire bird has... quite the temper. He might not break if we tell him the humans were the ones who did this.”

“Someone angry at us but more at our target is still easier to use than someone who’s just angry at us.” San replied, before frowning. “Also, I thought he was  ‘little bird’?”

“’Fire bird’ sounds less insulting than ‘little bird’.” Ichi answered, shrugging. “Like you said, show of goodwill. That, and doing his hair.”

“... Brother San, give me that rock.”

“No, Ni!”

“It’s not for me. I want to be the one giving it to the fire bird.” Ni answered. Upon his brothers’ confused faces, he continued. “It’s easy for the both of you to pretend to be nice- oblivion, San is actually nice. It’s not for me. But the plan isn’t going to work well if it doesn’t seem like I’m at least trying to be nice. So?”

After a few seconds, Sa handed the stone to Ni, the message in his eyes obvious. Don’t screw this up.

We cannot screw this up.

[hank-mcdankblade]

I Know A Bottom When I See One Princess (Part 3)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary

Chapter 1: You and Dean have been pals for as long as you can remember, practically raised together. Are things still the same as you remembered when you reconnect with him after a couple years apart? Well there is one thing you see differently and you’re about to call him out on it.

Chapter 2:  After you flirt back with Dean you start to rethink all of your life choices. Why did you flirt back instead of making fun of him? God it would be so much easier if you were just a genderless blob. Hopefully the new supernatural case a friend of your mom’s gives you will distract you from all this romance mumbo jumbo.

Chapter 3: You and Dean both start to realize your feelings are not what you both originally anticipated them to be. If only you two could actually talk like adults instead of bantering like childish 8 year olds. The case picks up when you see a certain someone’s name over every case, a certain boomer’s name.

Chapter 4: You and Dean do some sleuthing into Chrissy’s apparent death. After learning the truth your trip to Wendy’s/Jack in the Box gets interrupted by Chief douchebag. Rick takes the three of you on a nice drive to the mountains to introduce you to his daughter.

Word Count: 5,041

Warnings: Many, Many swear, Dean being a little shit, pg-13 thoughts from a certain green eyed hunter.

  ______________________________________________________________________

      The car was quiet. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were the cause of it. You reminded yourself that there were a million other reasons as to why the drive was silent. Hell there were hours spent in this car with nothing but the sound of guitars and dig of the tire against the road as background noise. All you needed was each other’s company and nothing more. The rational part of your mind was scolding you to shut the hell up about it and stop worrying, pointing out multiple pieces of evidence disproving your original theory. Meanwhile your much less rational side disagreed. She was a bit of a dumb bitch, but very persuasive. It was practically her superpower to ignore all the facts and blindly believe in her opinions.

        “Hey, sorry about springing the whole relationship thing on you. Just thought it’d be easier to fly under the radar as a couple….” You clenched your hands and wrung them together. Your eyes glanced at Dean to your left, quietly gauging his reaction. 

       “Don’t apologize, it’s ok. It was quick thinking. And who knows how suspicious detective douche would’ve been if you hadn’t.” Dean only took his eyes off the road for a moment to look over at you, lying through his damn teeth.

       “True…guess Jen was right about the cops being jumpy here.” Finally, with that off your conscience you could relax into the leather seats with ease. Things were fine. You were just putting way too much thought into this flirting with Dean thing. It was just how your relationship with him was and everything was ok. 

       You were fairing much better than Dean though. Dean’s grip on the steering wheel could be described as vice-like. The insides of his fingertips could feel the stitches in the fabric of the wheel. It felt like he had cotton shoved into his head, there was only one thing consuming his thoughts. Was he really interested in having you the way you spoke of the other night? Bent over and vulnerable while you took advantage of him? Thank god that his right foot was preoccupied with the gas pedal or his entire leg would be bouncing. 

        To you his face looked stoic, and void of emotion. Dean’s eyes were painted with a foggy filter. Mentally he was miles away from the Impala. Every couple of minutes or so he would come back and hyper focus on a different part of the reality in front of him. Dean sometimes focused on the way his joints bent or how his skin felt, and other times focused on how you were too close to him and too far away at the same time. Dean’s hand was shaking, aching to have it on your leg, give you a good squeeze or anything just something to feel you and your skin on him. He wanted to feel your firm grip on him, on his legs, his hands, around his throat. He wanted so badly for your hips to be driving his into the mattress, coming up and down bouncing on his cock until he came closer and closer…

        ��Ready to head in and get some info.?” Your delicate voice slowly reintroduced him to the present. Dean looked in front of him and saw a beige building that looked like it was built in the 60s and was never remodeled since. The black letters on the brick wall by the front door read, ‘Grand Mesa County Libraries Central Library.’ His body was slowly returning to its normal temperature as he stepped out of the car. 

        “Yeah, let’s do it.” Getting back on track Dean prepared himself for the first step in every hunting trip you two took, do some re-con and get info about the case. He was gonna have to put his thoughts of you on the back burner for now, which was easier said than done. Once you passed the threshold, the smell of old carpet and moth balls slapped you in the face. It was a nostalgic potent smell that reminded you of your kindergarten years and would haunt you for the rest of your life. Looking around, the place did not seem too busy. There were a few people scattered across the building casually mulling through books and movies to check out.

        “Wanna check the newspapers and I’ll look into local lore?” You two nodded to each other and went your separate ways diving deep into yellowed paper and books with broken spines. Soon enough you could no longer hear the soft thumps of Dean’s boots.

        After scanning the isles you checked out a couple books and started a nest by the computers. The first thing you knew you had to check out was the case at hand. You tapped away at the very out of date computer keyboard.

        Disappearances Grand Mesa National Forest

        There were about a thousand hits online for disappearances. The hard part would be finding information from a reliable source. The first few minutes into researching changed your posture as your spine straightened up and mind shifted into its case-mode. Everything in the world went blurry except for the books and screen in front of you.

~~~~

        ‘Newspapers…newspapers.’ Dean’s fingertips brushed over the tops of age softened newspapers. Once you spend months in different libraries you tend to pick up what their usual lay out was, so the newspapers were an easy find. Thankfully instead of having to search through the records by hand, this library had a computer to search key words in to find articles. If Dean ever went to hell, he was sure that being forced to dig through newspapers by hand would be his torture. 

        ‘Newly-Wed couple from Illinois vanished without a trace. Last seen in Grand Mesa National Forest.’

        ‘Scouts No Longer Holding Summer Camp in Grand Mesa National Forest After Four Scouts Lost to the Curse.’

        ‘The Grand Mesa Curse strikes again with the disappearance of a family of three.’

        Seeing the pictures from the crime scenes made things real. Of course Dean knew the hidden reality that the supernatural world truly was, but sometimes it was easy to forget. It was easy to forget that there was true evil in this world, that there was evil more than just a greedy billionaire or corrupt politician, but pure evil that only sought to drag as many souls to hell as possible. There were so many families that had their loved ones ripped from them without a reason, completely unknowing of the darkness that lurked so closely to them. They would be driven mad with the lack of ‘logical’ facts in their eyes, cursed to never know what really happened and given answers that felt bitter to the taste. Others had their eyes opened unwillingly, shown what was behind the curtain before they could even sputter out an answer. Dean wondered what he would’ve chosen had he been given the choice. Would he rather know what killed his mother and spent his life fearing those that hid behind human faces? Or would he rather go on with his normal apple pie life never finding closure in the death of his mother? Neither option had more pros or cons than the other. He could spend a lifetime mulling the answer over and never find one that felt fight.

        “Excuse me, are you looking for something in specific? You look a little lost…” Dean turned his attention upwards and saw a young librarian. She looked like she was probably a couple years older than him, a native here for sure.

       “Huh?” Dean blinked a few times before really processing what she said to him while he was on autopilot. “Oh, no. I’m alright but thanks.” Dean offered her a smile before going back to flipping through the stacks of old newspapers. 

        The librarian nodded before looking at what headlines he was choosing. She raised a brow as assumptions about who this mysterious man was filled her head. “Interested in the Grand Mesa Curse huh?” Now there was something useful that he needed. 

        “Uh…yeah. Somethin’ like that. Know anything about it?” Dean leaned his arms on the newspaper stand. Any info you two could get would make this whole operation go smoother. 

       The woman let out a short breath of a laugh and shook her head. “It’d be impossible to live around here and not know about it. Around this time of year nobody really goes up into those woods, and especially near the mine shafts.” She paused for a beat and then continued. “My name’s Shan by the way.” Shan looked at Dean with an eagerness in her eyes. The gesture fell on deaf ears and Dean simply smiled back at her.

       “Dean.” He held out his hand to hers, and gave her a firm shake. “Well, I’ve got all I need for now.”

       “Feel free to call me if you need anything.”

        “Will do, thanks.” What a nice lady. 

~~~~

        After collecting a handful of articles from different newspapers, Dean headed back to you ready to get down to business. You were hunched over a loud keyboard like a goblin, typing away all the notes you were compiling for future use. There were probably about 15 tabs open on one browser and 17 pages from various books that had been dog eared. From the looks of it, Dean could tell you were already on a roll. Not wanting to disturb you, he silently pulled out a chair next to you and started to flip through and score the articles he had. 

        About an hour later you two felt confident enough in your information to start piecing something together. 

       “Hey.” An unfamiliar voice interrupted your work process forcing you out of your thought bubble. When you looked up you saw what you assumed was a librarian who worked here looking right at Dean with some form of recognition lighting up her features. “Thought I’d check in to see how you were doing with the Grand Mesa Curse.” There was something in the tone of this girl’s voice that really put you off. Instinctively you tried not to reveal your true thoughts with your facial expressions. There was nothing on her, or within her, that was tripping up your Slayer signal, so she definitely was not a monster. Regardless, something was feeling weird as you looked between the two of them.

       “Pretty good actually, just getting some basic information.” The two of them chatted for a bit before the girl eventually left to actually do her job. Ok there was a possibility that you were being harsh, but this girl was interrupting your research session so regardless she’s being a bother. Human or not.

       Ok…

                Deep breath….

       You took a moment to restart yourself in a sense. She was human, and she wasn’t even at your table for too long so why were you so on edge around her?

        Next to you, Dean felt something in the air shift and looked over to you. Your eyes were still glued to the computer screen but your vibe felt different, more ridged, and that worried him. Still looking at you, Dean nudged you with his elbow.

        “Hmm?” You hummed, still focused on your research.

       “You ok? You seem…upset.” Damn him for knowing you so well. Hunting together had given him the skill to pick up on all your tells. You didn’t know whether this was a blessing or a curse.

        “What? No I’m ok.” You spared him a moment of your attention before returning to work. Dean slowly narrowed his eyes at you. The slightly higher pitched bubbly-ness in your voice was not genuine. You were lying, but he wasn’t going to press you on it in such a public place. 

        The moments drew longer and blurred together as you two eventually got back into the swing of things, but there was something that caught your attention as the hour flew by. It happened every fifteen or so minutes when you would catch a glimpse of that girl that talked to Dean. She would linger by the book stands and rearrange the books there, giving herself an excuse to look at Dean while she ‘worked.’ With each time she stalked near, her act became less and less convincing and it was starting to tick you off. You had work to do and she couldn’t take the hint with the piles of books you two had. Not to mention how little Dean seemed to pay attention to her advances. If she was a monster, she was a very poor one at that, but if she was a human then you had an idea of what she was after. Either option made you want to pull Dean’s chair closer to you, look over his shoulder to see what he was working on even though you already knew. A burning feeling started to ignite with every trip she made past your table. 

        Annoying woman aside, you two had found some important information. The history of the Grand Mesa National Forest was pretty plain. The forest was created by President Benjamin Harrison in 1892. No amount of digging brought up any supernatural affiliation. No massacres of any kind, no Native American burials, and no cults made that forest their home either. So this meant no large scale hauntings, which honestly relieved you. This narrowed the field down. Looking over articles from books and online and newspapers brought to light what was commonly known here as the “Grand Mesa Curse.” 

        It started about two decades ago when a group of college kids traveled up into the mountains for Christmas break. According to their parents they only planned on staying for a couple of days. Things took a turn for the worse when it had been three days after the kids were supposed to be home and no one heard from them. Entire search parties of police officers, family and friends, and many other volunteers combed the forest the best that they could. No bodies were found but their campsite was destroyed and barren. The press and police chalked this up to be the fault of the bears that roamed around, and the same was happening with the most recent case. Luckily this time around there was one girl who survived the attacks, Chrissy Hamilton. 

        There had been a couple cases before this particular one as well that dealt with bear attacks and missing people, but the thing that made it stand out was that the disappearances grew in number afterwards. They were all around the same time and similar location. Something that caught your eye immediately was that a girl from the group of college kids had the same last name as the sheriff you and Dean saw. 

        Lydia Sullivan, daughter of Rick Sullivan, went missing two decades ago and was never found. Her mother, Emily Sullivan, passed away soon after not being able to handle the death of her child. “Ok so if his daughter got merked, why is Sullivan Chief of Douchebags so lax with all these cases? You’d think he’d take his time.” Your tone of voice was low and gravely coming out slowly. That ass hole’s name was popping up everywhere. Rick Sullivan oversaw every single disappearance case in the Grand Mesa National Forest district since his daughter went missing. The man was seen as a determined father that wanted to keep Colorado’s kids safe. He may not have worked every case personally, but the records stated that he went over the paperwork and guided his officers. 

        “Maybe he’s luring kids into the forest? What purpose would he have to cover all of this up though if he wasn’t involved?” Dean leaned his forearm on the back of your chair to get a closer look at what you had. 

        “Doubt it, on all their suspect lists they show alibis too and his checks out. So that means that all of this is coincidental. He could be overseeing every case because he feels guilty for letting his daughter down?” 

        “Like a coping mechanism?” Dean sat back in his chair, eyes focused on a blank part of a wall as he tried to process everything. 

        You nodded. “Yeah, those things that normal people have.” You gave Dean a smirk knowing full well that both of your coping mechanisms included heavy amounts of alcohol and repression. Dean rolled his eyes at you with a smile that mirrored yours, remembering all the countless nights where you two would stay up far too late with a bottle of whiskey. Many times at the end of those nights the thoughts and pictures that kept you up at night would tumble out from your mouths. Subconsciously the space between you two would shrink, physically and emotionally. Dean could count on his left hand how many people he trusted and felt safe enough around to be vulnerable with. After all the shit you’d been through and years you’ve known each other, if he didn’t trust you he would never trust anyone. 

        “Hey, me again. Wanted to let you know that I found a couple of stragglers for the paper you two are putting together.” Jesus Christ this librarian really couldn’t see a moment when it was right in front of her could she? You had had enough of this girl’s talking. You thin string of will power snapped and opened up the lines from your direct thoughts to your mouth.

        “Why are you here?” Your eyes narrowed. Dean was taken aback. He had seen you lose your temper before, but only on those who truly deserved it. I.E. bar assholes, clowns/mimes, and religious nuts trying to convert you. This wasn’t the usual anger he was used to seeing before you knocked someone out, it was a silent subtle kind that would creep up on you if you didn’t watch for the signals. He was seeing all of them in slow motion. 

         Your jaw was clenched, no doubt thinking of biting her head off if she didn’t scamper off back to the corner she came from. What was usually a smile was replaced with a thin line that showed no welcome. But the thing that scared him the most was your eyes, cold and distant. Those eyes had never been directed him, eyes void of compassion. 

        Shan flinched just the slightest, brows pulled together not expecting such a reaction. “Uh-um, I’m here to help. It’s kind of my job.” She bit back at the end of her sentence, though her stare was not nearly as intimidating as yours. When she talked to Dean earlier she assumed that the two of you were merely classmates or just friends, but she had a bad feeling that she barked up the wrong tree. Your aura seemed dangerous, like a crazy jealous girlfriend. 

        “It’s your job to creep around the patrons and watch them from afar while you pretend to do your job?” One brow was quirked as you leaned back with your knees open and arms crossed. The attitude you were throwing was one that would rival middle schoolers and mothers looking to talk to the manager. It was very out of character for you to be petty, it always made you feel sick afterwards.

        Shan narrowed her eyes back, cheeks flushing a deep red. “Excuse me-”

        “Listen sweetheart, my boyfriend and I have a lot of work to do and you’re being a bother. So how about you get back to your real job and stop making googly eyes at my partner huh?” Your bite was sharp as a knife, cutting deep into Shan’s emotions. She took one look at Dean, who was currently preoccupied with staring at you, and quickly scampered off. You shut your eyes and opened them with only one goal in mind. The faster you knew about this case, the faster you could get the hell out of this library.

        Those thoughts that Dean were having to put on the back burner suddenly moved to the front. “So…..was she somehow endangering our hunt that you had to cover for us again?” The smug bastard was referencing what you did because of Detective Sullivan.

        “Yes. She was endangering our efficiency.” Your fingertips flipped through a book closest to you, anything to not look at Dean. In the tone of his voice you knew he was pleased. 

        Dean was more than pleased, albeit a little confused about his feelings but pleased nonetheless. He loved hearing the commanding tone of your voice, telling some other girl to back off of him. Telling that girl to back off because he was yours. A needle pricked at the back of Dean’s mind as he replayed the rollercoaster of emotions he felt. He liked that moment. He liked your tone of voice, but why? It was because of the insinuations he could make. You wanted him. You wanted him to yourself, there was a possessiveness to what you said and how you said it. It was dominant and commanding. 

        No. Dean liked it because it meant you wanted him. He was not a bottom, and he did not like that interaction because you were possessive and domineering. 

        ……

        “Mmmhhmmmm,” Dean hummed, his inflection rising up and then down. Now it was his turn to lean back into his chair. His perfect lips were pursed with a small smirk, one brow quirked with intrigue. “You sure someone wasn’t jealous of a pretty lady giving me attention?”

        “Sorry but the only pretty lady I see in this library is me,” Your voice attempted to make you seem preoccupied with cleaning up your space. Your fingers moved a lightning speed as you emailed yourself all the notes you had taken and shut down all the programs you had opened. “So I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your facial features moved in a comical way depicting a dramatic expression of confusion, with a hand on your hip. The table was finally free of all your possessions, the last notebook was zipped up into your backpack.

        Dean had you right where he wanted you, embarrassed and caught. He knew you would dodge and change the subject as quickly as you could if confronted with a topic you didn’t like. “I’m gonna remind you of this!” He shouted to you with his hands cupped around his mouth.

        You were already speeding off to the car, desperate to run away from this conversation and what it could come to. If anyone was going to be in control of a situation, it was going to be you and you’d fight anyone and everyone for that control with your bare hands. 

        “I’ll forget it!” You yelled back at him over your shoulder, bleaching your mind of any itchy feelings you were experiencing. 

        “Constantly!” Dean yelled back, only to receive the bird from you. He laughed and tumbled after you, happy to finally have some new material to ruin your day with. 

~~~~

        After five minutes of Dean looking like the cat who got the cream, white all over his smug stupid whiskers, you arrived at a locally owned diner. If you rolled your eyes anymore you were certain that you would go blind, and yet it would still be worth it just to let Dean know that you were mildly inconvenienced by his existence. The hum of the impala came to a soft halt. With the combination of Dean teasing you and your hunger, you may have strangled someone if you didn’t get fries in you soon. 

        A bell attached to the door rang out once you two stepped foot inside. Only the waitress on staff bothered to look up from her post behind a counter, the other employees were too engrossed in just making it through another eight hour shift without losing their minds.

        “Seat yourself wherever you like, I’ll be with you in a second!” She flashed a bright smile before dipping into the back of the kitchen. You and Dean nodded before following her directions and finding the corner booth in the back, cause that’s where all the cool kids sit. And with you two sitting there, only the coolest of kids sat there. 

        Dean leaned his chin on his hand and gazed at you. “So do you wanna talk more about how you secretly have a crush on me?”

        “No.”

        “Maybe about how you were totally going to duel that hot librarian for my hand?”

        “Rot in hell.”

        “Oh! Oh! Maybe we can discuss your feelings on a certain other topic that’s definitely unrelated.”

        Your unamused eyes continued to look at him, giving him no response hoping that he’d take the FUCKING hint. “Oh yeah? And what topic would that be?”

        “Me, and my cute face.” Dean winked and did his signature blue steel look. With a loud bang you hit your head on the table, laying your arms on the table around your head limp.

        “Deaaannn, I swear to god I will strangle you until the last breath from your lung is used.”

        “So what you’re saying is that you want your hands on me? You want to touch me?” Dean leaned closer and dropped his voice as low as he could go with every word that came out of his mouth just egging you on to do something. “You wanna put your hands all over my body?” 

        You whipped your head up, eyes wild and craving revenge, and you were just about to open your mouth and verbally destroy this stupid boy’s whole career when your waitress popped herself in front of the table. 

        “Hi! I’m Audrey, and I’ll be taking care you guys tonight. Have you been here before?” She had the whole speech memorized and recited it off as she handed you both a menu. 

        “Why no we haven’t! Darling aren’t you so excited to be here?” Dean grabbed your hand across the table affectionately with a huge fake smile. The weird vibe Audrey got from this table was throwing her off but regardless she had a job to do. 

        ‘Some of us will never eat again…’ You thought to yourself, thinking of all the places you could stab Dean with a fork. 

        “Thrilled.” You stated, pointedly glaring at Dean and his boyish charm getting the best of you. Audrey smiled to herself and started to understand what was going on and dismissed her earlier thoughts. After getting you two started with drinks she left you to look over the food options. 

        “Can I guess what you’re gonna get?”

        “As long as I get serve you cyanide afterwards.” 

        Dean settled into the booth and looked off into the distance to pretend to think very hard. “You are gonna get a cheeseburger with everything on it, as rare as they serve it. Side of fries and a large lemonade because even at age 23, you’re still an 8 year old.” 

        Damnit he was right. 

        You shared Dean’s smug look, ready to dish back what you were served. “Ok fine, you’re going to get the most overloaded bacon burger in order to cash in on that heart attack you’ve been waiting for forever, but hold all the vegetables because we want this one to be a big one. Side of fries and a shitty great value coke.”

        Dean nodded slightly and clapped quietly for you. “Right you are.” A moment was spent in silence, just the two of you laughing at each other smiling like love struck idiots. Your eyes tore away first, landing on a newspaper that was from today. The headline was the real reason you decided to pick it up.

        Local Crazy Believes Creature of the Night Kills Friend

        You flipped through the pages to find the story. It was published today and showed a picture of your sole survivor, Chrissy Hamilton.

        In a sad attempt to get some attention, Chrissy Hamilton offers her break out story. 

        “It was like my friends’ voices were coming from two different directions!”

       “This thing was too fast to see…”

       Clearly this is just another example of our country’s failed mental health system…

        “I wouldn’t spend too much time reading that malarkey…” Audrey said with her eyebrows pulled together, eyes cast down as she refilled your water glasses. 

        “Do you know her?” You asked, laying the paper flat on the table for Dean to see too.

        Audrey sighed as she stood back up, water pitcher straining her left wrist. “She’s my best friend. I’m not sure what really happened up there, but the newspaper doesn’t have to ruin her reputation like this and publish a drag story.” Her jaw clenched at the mention of the newspaper.

        “Does she have any enemies at the newspaper, maybe that would want to defame her?” Dean spoke up. Audrey eyed Dean caught up in her own thoughts.

        “We’re trying to run a counter story to get the Denver Times to redact the article.” You butted in, if this girl was going to give you anything it had to seem like she wasn’t gossiping with customers but giving info to fellow truth seekers. 

        Audrey pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “No, but the police chief doesn’t seem to like her. I don’t have any evidence to back it up, but I’m pretty sure he went to the head news correspondent and told him to run the article.” As more information poured in, the two of you couldn’t seem to figure out what the hell this cop’s problem was. He seemed to do everything in his power to derail this investigation, the dude was definitely hiding something. 

        “You’re pretty sure?”

        “Yeah…they’re drinking buddies so it wouldn’t surprise me.” Audrey’s attention was pulled away when the bell at the front door rang again. “If you guys have any more questions I can answer them after my shift.” 

        You and Dean shared a look. “The same voice coming from two different directions and super fast? I think I have an idea of what we’re looking for…”

        “Can we please talk to that Hamilton lady first, I’d very much like to drag this out before I freeze my balls off…”

_______________________________________________________________________

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[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Hidden in Plain Sight (3)- Tom Holland X Reader

A/N: This story is fun to write, but school is taking over little by little so sorry if this gets delayed more than I mean for it to be! Enjoy Chapter Three!

Word Count: 2165

Warnings: Swearing? Maybe? To be honest I can’t remember if I swore or not but knowing me I probably did. But there is mention of a killer moth so if that’s as trigger as it was when it was flying around my room then I’ll mention it here.

You had the absolute worst day. You were hoping it was going to be a good day since you had put on one of your favorite outfits to wear to work. But as soon as you got to work, everything turned into a shit show. A project you thought was finished didn’t save the last days edits, your boss got on you for something that was your coworker’s responsibility, and someone ate your lunch, which you’re not entirely sure how that happened, but it did. Add to it you have the start of what you think is a migraine, the last thing you want to do is anything work related, but because you’re behind on the project that is due tomorrow, you’ll probably be up all night working on it before going in tomorrow to continue working on it at the office. So heating up some soup to eat while you work, you decide to scroll through Tumblr while you wait for it to heat up. 

The news of Spider-Man, and therefore Tom Holland, staying in the MCU still hasn’t died down, which let’s be honest why should it? It’s fantastic news. Out of all the Spider-Mans, Tom’s portrayal of it is your favorite and you would be so sad to see him taken from Marvel just because Sony, Marvel and Disney couldn’t come to an agreement on things. It’s only been a couple days since it was announced, but you wouldn’t be surprised if this was talked about for weeks at least. You reblog a couple of photos, adding some of your usual hashtags. Honestly, you want to be distracted by asks, but you know that the likelihood that people will respond is low, plus you shouldn’t let yourself be distracted by Tumblr when you have the project due tomorrow. 

Hating seeing notifications, you click on the second icon from the right on the bottom of your screen. You clear off the notifications from reblogs and likes but notices your app is still showing a notification, on the messages side. It’s probably just from one of your friends. You flip over to the other screen and see a message from none other than Tomholland2013, who you’ve been messaging on and off over the past couple of days, ever since you sent him that edit.

You haven’t been super active on tumblr lately. Everything ok?x

Been super busy at work lol. Big deadlines coming up.

You don’t expect to get a message back since you figured from your messages where he mentioned he was in the early hours of the day while you were only in the late afternoon, that he was probably asleep since you got home later from work than you had planned. So you set your phone aside as you pull the broccoli cheddar soup from the microwave. However, you’re pleasantly surprised to see a message waiting for you when you pick your phone back up to head back to your computer to keep working.

Ah, big deadlines. What kind of work do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?x

Hm, this new tumblr friend of yours is awake even though it’s probably the middle of the night for him?

I don’t mind. I work in graphic design. Isn’t it the middle of the night for you? 

It would be if I was at home. I travel a lot for work. I’m currently in New York, so it’s only 9pm.x

But it definitely feels like I should be asleep. I’ve only been in New York for a few days and my mind is still on London time.x

What kind of work do you do? 

You set your phone down and boot your computer back up. You know you have shadows to deal with and layers to add back before even getting to the stuff you were meaning to get on today. This project was going to be the death of you. 

Tom stares at the message. How does he respond to that? He can’t very well tell you he’s an actor. That blows all of this. He likes being able to be open with you and the moment that it comes out that he is actually Tom Holland, well you might not be open with him. Could he tell you he works in the movie field without having to admit who he is? Could he play it off that he’s still a fanboy, because he will be a marvel fanboy until the day he dies, without blowing this whole thing up? There’s just something about you and being able to connect with someone who has no idea who he is that is different. 

Even on your blog today, you shared things from months ago and still reacted like it was your first time seeing them. Your whole blog just radiated positivity, even though your messages sounded like you had a lot on your plate outside of the internet world. He wants to be able to know you without the pressure of having to be, well, him. But you’re not asking him to spill everything about who he is. Just a snip-it. 

Film production. Getting ready to head off to a new project actually.x

Must be fun to travel for it. Anywhere fun?

Cleveland actually. Haven’t been there before, so maybe I’ll find something fun to do outside of the project while I’m there.x

Maybe you’ll run into Tom. He’s supposed to be there shooting a project I think. Especially if you’re also in the film industry, you’d already have more of a way into things than say I would lol 

I don’t know if I’ll have that much time off to look for him.x

Well if you happen to run into him in said little time off, tell him there’s probably half a million if not more tumblr users willing to marry him, should he be in need of a wife, husband, or nonbianary pal.

Would you happen to be one of those said half a million?x

He shouldn’t have sent it. You have been pretty good about responding, but after sending that message, he hasn’t heard from you in over twenty-four hours and he’s beside himself. You also haven’t posted on your blog. Which makes him think you’re avoiding him on the site all together, which is even worse. The flight to Cleveland, wouldn’t have been half bad if he wasn’t worried the whole time about what you might have been sending while his phone was on airplane mode. And of course the one time he would have paid any amount for on flight wi-fi, it was down and no one could use it.

As soon as the plane lands, he’s flipping the switch to connect his phone again. He needs to see if you’ve messaged back. He’s ignoring all the other notifications that pop up, looking for only on apps notifications. And while you haven’t posted again, you have messaged back. Which makes him suddenly feel like he can breathe again. 

I’m not the one who took Tom’s name on here. I feel like you might propose to Tom before I even have a chance to meet him IRL.

I don’t think I’m Tom’s type.X

And what do you think Tom’s type is? 

And it takes everything to not just describe you. It wouldn’t be hard. He had spent a lot of time deep diving through your blog. He had looked through your #me tab on your blog. It was filled with everything from selfies to posts about things you had done. And you were the kind of person that he was into. It wasn’t an only physical attraction thing. It was the things that you found important enough to post about. The little things about your day that you shared about. But instead of typing back you, Tom decides to type something different.

I think he would be into someone down to earth. Someone who is into sharing time with friends and family equally and someone who has a great sense of humor. Oh and they would HAVE to love Tessa. That would be a must.x

Wow you’ve thought a lot about this.

Do you disagree?x

Surprisingly no. But I thought you’d say something more… I don’t know physical I guess.

Why’s that?x

I don’t know. I just did.

What do you think he’d be into?x

He can’t help but ask. He wants to know what you think he’s like. There’s enough speculation out there about what he’s like, but for some reason, knowing what you think about him, it means something to him.

I would say, similar to you- family, friends and Tessa would definitely be at the top. Sense of humor would be important. I also feel like with there being so much he can’t talk about to the public, having someone he can trust with stuff would be important. I also think trust would be important so that he has a space he can just be himself too. 🤷‍♀️

Pretty spot on. All of those are important to him. He wants to ask if those things are all important to you, but asking that would come off weird, so he takes a different approach.

Honestly if I wasn’t such a div when I was making accounts I would have just made a Tessa fan blog. I’m a bigger fan of her than of Tom. x

SO TRUE. How can you not be?! She’s the purest thing in this world (sorry to Tom) and every time he shares more of her with us I melt a little.

Paddy had sent him that picture of Tessa this morning, maybe sharing it would brighten everyone’s days. Especially knowing that you were such a fan of her too. Adding the picture to his Instagram story, with a quick caption of missing this sweet girl, he quickly uploads it.

APPARENTLY TOM CAN READ OUR THOUGHTS?!

What do you mean?x

Cute Tessa content just uploaded to his Insta story. Apparently he’s away from her and missing her 😭

She’s just too pure for this world x

I needed that right now.

Something wrong?x

Work project might kill me. 

It’s due by the end of the day, but photoshop keeps crashing and I might scream. 

I’m sorry love x

I’m restarting my computer for the third time today and it’s not even noon yet. 

You know he’s English so the love thing shouldn’t throw you. Plus he’s a boy on the internet. But for some reason, it feels like something more. So instead of saying anything about it, you just keep messaging like nothing happened. A small part of you is hoping that by not mentioning it though, it might happen again.

Tom spends the rest of the day messaging you when he can. He knows you’re working on a project that has a deadline, so he doesn’t expect you to be at his beck and call. But when he gets a notification at almost eleven o’clock at night his time from your blog, he hopes it’s one of your personal posts to make him laugh. He isn’t let down.

THERE WAS A MOTH FLYING AROUND MY ROOM AND NOW I CAN’T FIND IT IM GOING TO DIE. IF IT EATS ME YOU ALL KNOW WHO THE MURDER IS

#me #killer moth #save me #if i die i leave everything to tom

He can’t help but send you an ask about it.

Tomholland2013 asked: You know moths don’t eat people right?x

Y/T/B: You didn’t see how big this one was. This one was definitely of the people eating variety with how big it was. And now it’s hiding in my room waiting for me to close my eyes and then it will sneak up on me, kill me, and devour me whole. 🖕

Tom laughs at your reply before sending another ask. Sure he could do this in your message thread, but he’s betting the asks are helping distract you from the moth.

Tomholland2013 asked: That’s a quiet defensive response from someone who is going to be eaten. If you want me to come save you from a killer moth, maybe be a bit nicer.x

Y/T/B: If you will race over here, find this moth, and release it into the wild so that it can’t kill me in my sleep I will make you as many Tom edits as it takes in gratitude. 👏😘Just come save me please. I swear I can hear him laughing in the distance. 

Tomholland2013 asked: If he’s laughing in the distance, I’ll be over to take care of him. No one gets to disrespect my favorite blog and get away with it.x

Y/T/B: Thanks darling. I really, really appreciate it. Now I must be off to hunt this moth, before he hunts me.

Tags: @serendipitous-amor​ @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​ @tomfiction4​ @im-deeply-shallow

[kathyprior4200]

Velvety Rich and Sickly Sweet

Once there was an African American girl who lived in a big city. Her name was Venessa. As a little girl, she loved playing with dolls and getting dressed up. Tea parties with her friends were a favorite pastime. She adored candy, cake and anything sweet, a craving that lasted for the rest of her life. She dreamed of becoming a famous celebrity.

 As Venessa got older, computers and phones started to arrive. It wasn’t long before she got into social media. She pursued a career in fashion and posted videos of herself in velvet dresses baking cakes and seductively sucking on candies for the males. Her videos went viral and she basked in the online limelight.

 But the more well-known she got, the more she distanced herself from her former family and friends. Venessa soon partook in gossip, laughing at other women and being a self-centered bully. She enjoyed the reactions of hurt people less well-off than her. This was especially true when she became a risqué model and dancer.

 Soon enough, all of Venessa’s actions came back full circle. Venessa soon found herself as a target of bullying and racism. She received one hate comment after another…from the n word, to bad things about her black curly ponytails. Some even called her fat and fake.

 Venessa was furious…so furious that she began to track down the bullies and kill them with knives. Childish laughter could be heard among the screaming victims. Venessa covered her tracks well…after all, no one suspected famous model to be a killer. However, she kept pictures of herself posing with her victims holding her knife.

 But she was soon found out, and almost got arrested. Venessa soon spiraled down into madness, having a crazed breakdown. Distraught over the mean comments, she overdosed on skinny creating drugs. Her body couldn’t take the amount and she died before she was discovered by the police. A mirror was in one hand while a headless doll was in another. Venessa died at age 22 in 2012, the same year as Vaggie.

 Venessa soon arrived in Hell and became known as Velvet. Velvet was a fitting name, due to both her wealth and her fondness for red velvet cakes. She even made an Instagram account called radvelvetcakes. Rad was a word meaning “cool” and “trendy,” the things she always aspired to be. With her status as an overlord, it was…well, a piece of cake.

 Velvet would’ve been demon food if not for two Overlords who decided to take her in. Velvet soon had two friends and fellow Overlords: “Daddy” Vox and “Daddy” Valentino. The former was a wealthy TV demon, who owned all the TV stations in Hell. The latter was a moth pimp, who owned Hell’s number one porn studio. Together, the three Overlords made a near unstoppable fearsome force to be reckoned with. They become known as the Triple Vs. The three of them often hosted lavish parties on yachts and in fancy soirees, electronic music and dubstep pulsing through the air. All three of them controlled the “stimulants” of Hell: TV, drugs, porn, social media and food.

 Vox had a flat screen TV for a head and wore a black suit with a large red bow tie and blue stripes going down the suit. He wore a black top hat with antennas and a teal Wi-Fi symbol on it, the same symbol on his chest. When he first came down to Hell in the 1950s, he had an old boxy TV head. But thanks to his power over electricity, he upgraded himself as the years went on. In his full demon form, the red eyed, sharp blue-toothed man could cause entire blackouts. Formerly a white man named Vincent, with black hair and icy blue eyes, Vox died from a TV falling and crushing his face. In Hell, he continued his sinful actions he did when he was alive: hooking up, doing drugs, and hosting gruesome TV shows for entertainment. TV towers were everywhere, looming like impenetrable metal fortresses. With his showman personality, he stood equal to Alastor in power, if not more.

 Valentino was a light purple moth pimp with antennas and fancy coats. He had a ring of fluff around his neck with small red hearts on it. His glasses were pink and heart-shaped. He was often found lounging on couches with female “clients’ in his lap, smoking red smoke from a cigarette. The smoke itself could drug demons and make them doped up. Cruel and greedy, he enjoyed using and abusing people for his own pleasure, in particular, his porn star and worker Angel Dust. He promised love and pleasure, both of them illusions in the long run. His victims would be helpless and obedient, unable to leave and think for themselves. Valentino was originally Vasilis, a dark-skinned man from Brooklyn who also did drugs, smoked and participated in human trafficking. Valentino had died in the 1970s…and his distant relative was none other than fellow moth demon Vaggie!

 And then there was Velvet herself. She was a black-skinned doll demon, short but very deadly. One of her favorite outfits was a velvet laced white dress with small hearts around it and black shapes. She wore black stockings and pink shoes with white puff balls on it. Her hair was dark pink and in two thick pigtails. She had red sclera and white irises with black pupils. Although she looked and acted like a child, she was in her twenties. Velvet was the Overlord of sweets and social media. If Harley Quinn turned into an animated doll who loved gossiping and tea parties, then that would adequately describe what Velvet was like. Velvet once sat with Vox and Valentino safe in the porn studio during the Extermination. She eagerly checked her phone and took selfies while sitting next to Vox.

 Velvet could go full demon form like the other Overlords, but her power was laced with an extra dose of insanity. For in her most powerful form, she could make deadly potions to use against her enemies. Velvet was skilled enough making regular potion for perfume and to use as beauty products. But she could also make poisons and noxious gas to defeat any demon who dared disobey her and her fellow Overlords. In her most extreme form, she could magically turn her victims into sweets, absorbing their souls as she ate them! Even Vox and Valentino steered clear from her when she was in that form.

 Like a doll, Velvet was doted on by Vox and Valentino, as well as her many followers. All three of them went back and forth from doting their workers to abusing them with deadly threats. Although Velvet enjoyed being spoiled, she often felt like she was treated like a child too much. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, even meeting up with Rosie and other wealthy ladies to eat demons in the streets. Velvet was also infamous for sometimes using demons’ blood and organs in her baking.

 Yes, Velvet was living a life of luxury, perhaps second to the royal Magne family and the Eldritch family. Imagine her surprise when she found out that the princess was running a hotel to redeem sinners. She laughed it off, calling Charlie absurd. In many ways, she was similar to Seviathan, Helsa and Katie Killjoy: self-centered individuals who lived on gossip, trends, fashion and putting others down.

 Velvet was frequently seen on and searched many media platforms in Hell: Voxtube, Voxflix, Voxbook, and Voxtagram. The movie and social media sites were all run by Vox, of course. His dimensional monopoly was getting closer to becoming permanent.

 There was her Instagram account: “radvelvetcakes. Fun with the Overlords! Follow and comment to keep up on moth-pimp, voxtagram 8k and me!”

 On July 6, 2020, Velvet posted a selfie of herself smiling on what appeared to be a dance floor decorated with green neon candy tiles.

“This is my newest account! Be sure to tell your friends! Ain’t I a cutie?”

 On the same day, Velvet posted a selfie of her and Vox. Vox didn’t look very happy.

 Vox said, “Chillin in the studio. Rad photo by my girl radvelvetcakes.”

 On July 7, 2020, Velvet posted a picture of Valentino and Vox eating hamburgers at Hell’s version of McDonalds. Vox had his TV mouth open, a hamburger and French fries on his lap.

 “Lol. Voxtagram8k is one to talk. He’s hardly as cool as he thinks he is.”

 A later picture showed Valentino eating a giant chicken sandwich messily.

 Valentino posted, “Picking up the goods,” as Vox and a smiling Velvet got into their limo after going to McDonalds. Vox had a bag in his hand, while Velvet carried two drinks. The McDonald’s M logo was upside down.

 On July 9, 2020, Velvet posted a picture of herself showing off her manicured nails. Her sharp nails were decorated with sparkles, diamonds and little bows. The nails were extended ones. In the background, it looked like Vox’s leg was breaking down a door.

 Later, Valentino mentioned that he would fuck up Velvet for posting bad pictures of him and Vox.

 “Bored and missing the boys so I decided to do my nails up pretty!”

On July 10, 2020, Valentino posted a picture of Vox letting his pet shark loose on a tripping Velvet.

 Valentino said, “Got her. This is the only time I’ll say this, but Vox having a giant demon pet shark actually comes in handy.”

  On July 13, 2020, Velvet was seen beaming in a picture along with Vox, Valentino and their blue pet hammerhead shark.

  On July 20, 2020, Valentino posted a selfie at his new club.

 Valentino: “New club, new pole, anyone else wanna give it a whirl?”

 Stolas: “No thank you. I’m sure even if things are new, the same slime is still around.”

 When asked if Blitzo would do a dance on the pole for Valentino…

 Blitzo: “No, no that won’t happen. I’m too busy with my horses and business.

 Stola: It would be quite the sight. But I wouldn’t wish to see Blitzy working in Mr. Valentino’s establishment.

 Stolas: Why would I ever want the rat to want such an excellent business venture?

 Valentino: Watch yourself, bird.

 Stolas: That’s a lot of talk for an insect.

 Velvet laughed out loud as she read the comments.

 On July 21, 2020, Velvet posted a selfie of herself about to eat a dirty green lollipop with a fly on it. Valentino stared in horror with wide pink eyes under his heart glasses.

 “Val stopped me from eating a lollipop I found on the ground. But what he doesn’t know is that I grabbed it after he tossed it in the bin! #FreeCandy. #LivingFree. #RatsEatShitOffTheGroundAllTheTime.”

 Valentino replied, “Stop, we have money! We can get you another one!”

 Velvet: “It’s mystery flavored! We can do what we want!”

 Vox said to Valentino: “I will not be the one cleaning the toilet tonight.”

 Stolas said, “Wonderful parenting there,” and added a thumbs down.

 Moxxie the imp added, “Why would anyone eat something that was on the ground?”

 On July 23, 2020, Valentino posted a selfie of himself smoking, his eyes glowing pink under his shades.

 Valentino said, “Dealing with Angel always puts me in a bad mood. Gonna go have some fucked up fun.”

 Velvet eagerly asked, “Oooh, oooh, can I join?”

 Valentino replied, “Sure, why the fuck not?”

On July 25th, Velvet went on a killing mission with Vox and Valentino. Velvet was seen in a picture, beaming while holding a knife in her hands. The blade was stained with purple cake frosting.

 Valentino said, “Thanks for the backup today, baby doll.”

 Velvet responded, “It was so much fun! Wish we could do it more often.”

 Valentino added, “Always up for a little messy fun.”

 On July 26th, Velvet posted a picture of herself doing a “duck” face while holding a piece of pink and teal cake on a plate. The rest of the cake was on a plate on a table, with suspicious bloodstains in the frosting. Nearby, a blue demon stood holding a piece while his right shoulder had a bloody bandage on it.

 “So it turned out it was cake!” Velvet posted. Apparently, Velvet had thought that the demon was made of cake, so she had used a knife to slice his shoulder. Then she sliced up the cake and to her delight, it was, indeed, cake. Velvet had gleefully watched videos on VoxTube that showed artistically made cakes that looked like ordinary objects. This led to a meme or an online joke that everything was secretly cake. Velvet briefly wondered if she was cake herself.

  On August 4, 2020, Velvet posted a video of a blue Vox writing down notes and a red Valentino screaming at him. Vox remained unfazed.

 Velvet said: “Laughing my fucking ass off!”

Valentino wasn’t happy and said, “The fuck? You were supposed to advertise my company, not, whatever the fuck this is. Cute drawings, though.”

 Velvet: “Thank you.”

 Valentino: “Lucky you’re a crazy cute bitch.”

 Vox said, “Ur lucky I have a built in mute button. Also, this is perfect! <3.” Vox was the more easygoing, “dad” type individual in comparison to Valentino.

 On August 5, 2020, Velvet happily posed in a picture, holding a pink balloon she was about to pop with a pin. In front of her was an illuminated cake that read “Happy Birthday Gasu,” in reference to an artist who made character art for the show. Valentino had a scowl on his face as his red jacket got messy, the hearts on his fluff turning into broken hearts.

 “Celebrated Gasuguma’s birthday with cake! Love his amazing pictures of Vox, Valentino and me! Happy Birthday!”

 Valentino complained, “Yeah some celebration, stained my fucking jacket. Cake was good, though.”

 On August 6, 2020, valentine posted a picture of Vox in a dark room with two cups of soda in his hands.

 Valentino: “5:30 am. I asked Vox to get me a strawberry iced coffee several hours ago. The fucker shows up now with half a finished diet soda! Do I kill him, yes or no?”

 Velvet was annoyed. “So that’s where my fucking diet soda went.”

 Valentino: “Oh my fucking god, he didn’t even buy it for me.”

 Vox: “I’ll send Vark the Shark to deliver your drink next time.”

  Valentino: “You just wanted to see me.”

    On August 7, 2020, Vox’s picture showed his TV screen cracked and one of his antennas crooked. Vox’s screen turned to colored bars and Valentino was grinning in the picture.

 Valentino: “Thanks for the soda, Voxy. Don’t fuck up my order next time.”

 Velvet sadly says: “My dads are fighting.”

 Valentino: “Don’t worry baby doll, not my fault, Vox is a dumbass.”

 Vox: “Velvet, you’re literally the same age as us, wtf?”

 Sir Pentious: “Ha ha ha, that’s hilariously evil, Valentino. Or may I call you Val, we should “hang” soon?”

 Stolas: “You can do better.”

 Vox: “Time to get a new screen. Ungrateful rat. #notmyboyfriend.”

 Valentino: “You woke me up. Sorry not sorry.”

 Stolas said to Vox: “I would say you could do better, but I’m not entirely sure you can.”

 Valentino: “Go fuck an imp.”

 Stolas: Gladly.

 Valentino: Sad.

 Stolas: What’s sad is traipsing around in a giant tacky coat trying too hard to be intimidating.

 Valentino: What’s sadder is watching you thirst over a tiny-dicked imp 24/7.

 Stolas: From what I’ve heard, he has a bigger dick than whatever you have between your legs.

 Valentino: From who? Lol. You obviously don’t have anyone, I don’t see nothing on your insta other than a thirsty dried old man.

 Stolas: …

 Stolas: You only like Vox because he can display glowing lamps on his screen, dirty moth.

 Velvet laughed out loud, this was the most fun she had in a while.

  On August 17 2020, Valentino posted another selfie.

 Valentino: “Got some business to take care of.”

 Stolas: I knew disco was dead, but I didn’t know it went to Hell.” Another successful roast.

 Velvet said: “Looking pretty dapper, Val. Don’t worry, I know Vox will see it!”

 Valentino said to Stolas, “Don’t hate me ‘cause you ain’t me, imp fucker.”

 Stolas replied, “Why would I want to be a rat?”

 Valentino: “Why are you so obsessed with me, baby cake? Want me to stop by? Help remove the stick from your ass.”

 Stolas: The stuck up my ass would be more pleasurable than anything you’ve got.

 Velvet was laughing so hard, tears came from her eyes.

 Valentino: Don’t knock it till you try it, baby. You know what they say about moths.

 Stolas: That they’re little pests obsessed with light bulbs? Owls eat insects, you know.

 Valentino: They can go all night.

 Stolas: Well owls eat rats. Wait this came out from the wrong particular situation…

 Valentino made an erotic face.

 Stolas: No.

 Sir Pentious to Valentino: “I own the same shirt, maybe we can do business and hang.”

[graaythekwami]

Love Square Fluff Week: Day 3, Flowers

Also read on ao3!

Paring: Ladrien

Note: This takes place in an animal/shapeshifting AU I’m working on. Instead of superheroes their Miraculouses turn them into animals, and the general public is scared of them and their powers.

-----

“This is getting ridiculous!” Plagg snapped. “Utterly ridiculous!”

“Thanks Chloe,” Adrien said as he added his order to his cart, clicking to go pay. His kwami was hovering in front of his computer screen, paws crossed. “Don’t you have any cheese to go eat?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than work on your fake garden!?”

“Why are you so opposed to it?” Adrien snapped.

“I’m not an idiot, kid!” Plagg growled. “I’ve been alive longer than you could comprehend. I’ve seen you Googling ‘what plants attract ladybugs’ and ‘what flowers do ladybugs like’, and you’re an idiot to think it’s actually going to work.”

“It already has worked,” Adrien replied, gesturing to below his window, which had been converted to a miniature garden of potted plants– several of which he had found ladybugs crawling on before. 

It had taken Nathalie some convincing when he had first started ordering seeds, pots and potting soil– but after making up something about reading an article about having natural plants within your home could help you have clearer skin she had relented (on the condition that he didn’t get his room or clothes covered in dirt). Everything had to be contained to the long table that now rested below his window, but it was more than worth it.

Gardening had become a fun pastime for the long hours he was locked in his room, especially since he had been forbidden from a young age from helping out in the mansion garden by both his mother and father. As much as they loved the natural beauty on their property, they didn’t like it on their son. Still, some of his fondest memories with his mother had been them wandering out in their garden together, so having flowers and plants right in his room brought back some happy memories.

He also wondered if gardening was a fashion trend at the moment, as he noticed both Marinette and his father had an increase of potted plants on their balcony and office.

“There’s a difference between ladybugs and Ladybugs– she’s not about to come flying into your room because you have a bunch of cosmos planted,” Plagg said in exasperation. “Just because you can turn into an animal doesn’t mean you act like them.”

“Catnip,” Adrien said simply, which shut Plagg up– they had both agreed not to talk about the catnip incident after all.

He stood up, making his way over to his miniature garden. He had a variety of flowers: cosmos, marigolds, geraniums, and more. It was more than just garden of flowers too, fennel, cilantro, among other plants could be found in his collection. It all smelled quite nice (horrendous, in Plagg’s opinion), and helped to cover up the smell of Camembert that lingered on him and in his room (much to Plagg’s disappointment). They were all plants that were supposed attracted ladybugs, and while he wasn’t a hundred percent sure all the websites were true it seemed to have done its job, because he had found a few of the beetles in his little garden on days when he left the windows open.

None of them were Ladybug, though.

Perhaps it was a bit of wishful thinking, that Ladybug would just turn up in his room because of some plants, he was sure she wasn’t about to go flying into someone’s room (and why would she even be near his house?), but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t holding out that she might turn up. Sure he saw her quite often when they went to battle, but it wasn’t often they could just be together. The thought of seeing his Lady made his heart race, and just the knowledge that she was okay helped soothed nightmares of the battles they had faced.

Plagg let out a huff as he picked up his watering can to tend to his plants, diving into a laundry basket saying it smelled too fresh in here. Adrien could only smile, before staring out his window.

He wondered if infesting his plants with aphids would attract more ladybugs.

-----

Adrien grew bored of his piano practicing half way through it– so he switched on the recording of him playing and flopped onto his bed. Before school and Hawk Moth he had been content with playing the piano, but now that he had tasted freedom he found he grew bored much more easily. It wasn’t like he hated the piano, but his father’s expectations were too much at times.

He couldn’t turn on the TV, games, or music– that would be a dead give away for his fake practice, so he just laid there staring at the ceiling. Strange how doing nothing was more appealing than doing what he was told at times. Of course this only lasted for a couple of minutes, and he rolled off his bed to do his favorite thing his room had to offer: gardening.

His new supplies had arrived this morning, and he was happy to get to work planting the cosmos seeds he had just gotten– specifically white cosmos– which apparently were better at attracting ladybugs than the other colors he had. He didn’t know how true it was, but he was more than happy to try it. He filled up his newest pots with soil, humming to himself as he did so. It had taken him a while to learn not to over-water plants and sometimes he had forgotten to water them, but now he felt he was pretty good when it came to gardening.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he saw a small red figure on one of his marigold’s leaves.

It was a little ladybug, small enough to sit on the tip of his finger. Most people probably wouldn’t even blink at it, but all it took for him was a glance to recognize her. A shade of red that was so familiar it was comforting, five black dots that were perfectly round and perfectly symmetrical– two on each elytron, and one in the very center. A scientist would say that it didn’t resemble any known species of ladybug, but to Adrien all he saw was a being that meant nothing but safety and trust.

“Ladybug,” he whispered in awe, barely believing his eyes. She was here in his garden, Ladybug was right in front of him!

She stiffened up slightly as he spoke, before continuing to crawl along the leaf without a care, clearly just trying to act like a normal bug. He bounded over to her, kneeling down so they were closer to the same level, but he didn’t reach out to hold her like he often did when a ladybug found its way into his room. He stared at her for a few seconds, before realizing how creepy that probably was, and pulled back slightly.

It took everything he had not to say ‘My Lady’, because Plagg would probably Cataclysm him then and there for being such an idiot. He shifted back and forth, not quite sure what to do. He wanted to talk to her, but he also didn’t want to scare her off with being recognized. 

“Um...” he began uncertainly, before clearing his throat. “Um, hi Ladybug. I know it’s you, er, by the way.”

The ladybug froze up once again, scurrying across the leaf, before once again trying to act like a normal bug that most certainly did not understand him and that he most certainly had misidentified. He had to hold back a laugh, because he knew that Ladybug had never been recognized when she was normal sized, only once she augmented did people realize she was one of the magical creatures that roamed the city.

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I... I honestly don’t know what to say. Er, thank you? I guess. For protecting Paris, you don’t get nearly enough credit as you deserve.”

Ladybug went still once more, recognizing that she had truly been recognized. She turned on the leaf she was on, staring at him with a look he couldn’t read. He found himself straining his mind, waiting to hear her words in his head, but he couldn’t unless he transformed himself. His heart sank slightly because of that, but still he smiled at her.

He wondered what he looked like to her with her so small. He knew her eyesight wasn’t like a regular ladybug, his research said they saw in black and white, while his Lady said she still saw in color. It was the same for him, he saw the same range of colors as when he was human, though his eyesight was much sharper when transformed.

“I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but I was actually hoping that you’d show up in my garden,” he said, rubbing the back of his head again. “I didn’t think you’d ever come though, but I planted it with you in mind. All these plants are supposed to be ones that ladybugs like– do you like them?”

He could see her hesitate, swaying slightly in place, before she gave a nod with her tiny head. It was hard to catch with her small form, but he knew it was a yes.

He smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. Um... could you go bigger? It’s kind of hard to see you when you’re so tiny.”

Again she hesitated, swaying adorably on her leaf, before going still. The center spot on her back vanished, and she slowly began to grow in size. A moment later there was a four-spotted ladybug clinging to the leaf, now roughly the size of a bottle cap– still small enough to be nimble and generally out of sight, but much too big to be a true ladybug.

He smiled. “That’s so cool,” he said, even though he could do the same himself when transformed, but he knew how nice it was to have a civilian that didn’t stare at them like they were a mutant. “It must feel pretty weird, I hope it doesn’t hurt.”

She shook her head from side to side, and her elytra flared open. She flew up and landed on top of a pink cosmos, staring at him. She circled around the petals, which dipped under her weight, until she settled in the middle.

“Pink suits you,” he blurted out suddenly, and he felt a blush appearing on his face. “I m-mean it looks really nice with your red. You can keep the flower if you want, this garden was made with you in mind after all and–“

He fumbled, reaching for the scissors he used as garden clippers, and clipped the cosmos stem. He lifted the flower up, and found himself stuttering for words with her so close. He mentally face palmed, he was never like this around her when he was transformed! Why was he like this now?

“W-wait, you can’t carry it, can you,” he stammered. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking–“

She flicked her elytra open, and he saw another one of her spots vanishing as she began growing once more. This time she was bigger than his fists, and her wings were making a clear buzzing sound as she hovered there in the air. It was a mere fraction of the size she could manage when facing an akuma, but yet still giant for a bug.

He held out the flower, and she wrapped her six legs around the stem. She took a moment to find her balance with it, but seemed to have no real struggle carrying it. He smiled as she watched him, and she gave him a nod of acknowledgement, before turning towards the window.

He stared after her as she flew away, disappearing out of sight as she flew up and over the mansion. Adrien couldn’t help but let out a sigh, grinning from ear to ear as he sank down onto his couch.

“Isn’t she amazing, Plagg?” He asked in a soft voice.

“She’s a good Ladybug,” Plagg acknowledged. “But you’re ridiculous.”

He just let out another sigh, his thoughts on Ladybug and the flower. Would she keep it after she detransformed? Would she mention to Chat that she had been given a flower? Okay, maybe that last one was wishful thinking, but so had been her showing up and she had! He found his mind constantly turning towards turning towards Ladybug and the cosmos, hoping at the very least it had made her happy in some way.

Yet strangely when he went to visit Marinette that night his mind wasn’t on flowers, and he didn’t even blink at the pink cosmos sitting in her room.

[thegodshavehorns]

Girl From Nowhere

Your name is Roxy Lalonde, and you are simply the best there is. No need to specify at what. You are the best at all of the things. All of them.

But if you did have to specify, you suppose that you would say you are the ultimate best at computers. In fact, you are the drunken master of computers. Nobody can hope to beat you when you’ve got a wine bottle in one hand and a keyboard under the other. Nobody. Not even you when you’re sober, actually.

That unfortunate fact has forced you to scrap your computer wholesale and just buy a new one several occasions, on account of not being able to figure out how to get past the new security system that you designed on it while you were drunk, or the password that you set at the same time. You keep telling yourself that you need to write these things down but you never remember. You have absolutely no idea why that is.

But what can you do? Programming is in your blood; when you are cut, ones and zeroes spill out of your arm. Your fingers fly not like it’s your nature, but like they’re responding to the thrum of destiny. It was fate, it had to have been, that when some rich dude bequeathed half his library to the orphanage one Croakmas when you were still a tyke, that you were the one who got the programming books with all those pictures of cats on the cover. You learned to read out of those books, for crying out loud. You were made for this. It’s your telos.

But you are not just the drunken master of all coding. You are also one of the many students to have blessed— or blighted— the halls of Our Lady Who Is Without Mother Or Father Academy for Girls. You are undoubtedly the best and most favorite of the superintendent’s, but she doesn’t like to let on that she plays favorites so she’s always yelling about how she’s one more misstep away from throwing your ass out on the curb. That never happens, though, no matter how many times you hack into her computer system, so you’re pretty sure that it’s all just talk and smokescreens.

After all, if she didn’t want to share the bottles of gin she kept locked in her back cabinets then she wouldn’t have put them there after you’d already picked her lock three times before, right? Nah, you’re totally on the best of terms. The fake mad face is just a part of the charm.

Still, she does have to keep up a front if she’s going to keep the rest of the school fooled about how much she actually doesn’t hate your guts, so she has to make a profanity-filled house call every now and then. Seeing as you’re the school's Little Orphan Annie that means she doesn’t have to walk very far, just down the block, so these visits happen quite a bit.

Most people avoid coming in your room. You did have a couple of roommates but you kept hacking the records or breaking into the records office and changing your file, and eventually the matrons just plain gave up and let you have it your way. And if they want to talk with you, well, they knock, or they just scream at you through the door. Which is what just about anybody does but the superintendent, actually, since you have been known to come at people with broken bottles when they make too much noise or touch your hardware.

So when you hear somebody enter your room one morning, you don’t bother asking who it is. You just keep at it, smacking keys and drowning your hangover behind a wall of monitors, towers, and books, completely dark save for the glow of screens dimmed to their lowest brightness.

But it isn’t the super, it’s a guy. Some jackass with a lisp. When you find that out you’re about to curse him out but, on a whim, you poke your head over the Great Wall of China and— hot damn, and thank your lucky stars you didn’t say anything, because this isn’t a jackass, it’s the jackass, Sollux Captor, the Mage of Doom, wearing some ratty moth-eaten coat over his godhood.

“Nice coat,” you tell him.

He shrugs. “They tell me I have to look decent for the public. ‘Like people,’ is how Kanaya puts it. She says it looks like pajamas.”

“Sorta does,” you admit.

“Fuck her. You’re lucky I’m wearing anything.”

Yeah, this is totally his protest costume.

But what is he doing here? You don’t know, so you ask him. And then you offer him breakfast, just to be a good host.

“What is that?”

“Pickled prunes, tripe, cinnamon, eggs, and rum. Hangover cure.”

“You put rum in your hangover cure?” Sollux obviously doesn’t know what to make of you— best person ever, or supreme best ever? You yourself know exactly how awesome you are, but it's more fun to keep him guessing.

“How else am I supposed to get a good start on my drinking?” Okay, you’ve nailed it. You are the best of friends or something now probably. Especially since he took a spoon from out of nowhere and is sharing your awesome hangover cure soup with you.

You eat in silence, or at least as much as you can get between the clicker-clakker of the keys. Meanwhile, Sollux is taking a look around your room, frowning, smiling, shaking his head, smiling some more.

“I want to offer you a job,” he says, and you want to do a spit take but the soup’s all gone and you’re just now noticing that he snatched your wine from out of your reach.

“Uh, say who what now?”

“Let’s just say that we’re very interested in what you can do. So I’m offering you a job at SkaiaNet,” he says. “And you will be given a place to study at Derleth University when you graduate from here.”

You squint at him. “Derleth? Ain't that a medical school? I do computers.”

“I need a biologist. They have a new program in computational genomics.”

“A little squishy for me, bucko.”

Sollux blinks. It evidently takes him a moment to figure out what you’re going on about. “I don’t need another programmer that I could outperform on my worst day. I need somebody with a tenth of Feferi's bioengineering and a third of my coding. A biologist with your special talents would have many uses.”

A biologist? What the heck kind of biology needs coding and hacking? Then again, it would be nice to have a guaranteed job...

“But there is a catch,” he continues, and you groan inside. “You’re a good student, but you’re still a menace and a delinquent. That kind of shit isn’t supposed to happen, by the way. With your behavior you should be flunking or something.”

You lean back in your swank rolly-chair. “Maybe I fixed my grades.”

“You didn’t. I would know.”

Aw.

He continues: “So you have to keep off the booze.” Wait, what? “You are, I have been assured, a functioning alcoholic. Nevertheless, you are also unpredictable when you are drunk, and I do not want to lose my investment at the age of thirty for the sake of an exploded liver.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re very good at what you do.”

You grin. "Pft, yeah, of course. So, what, the super recommended me?"

"More the other way around."

You blink at him. What does that mean? Your hangover is making you fuzzy, and slower than you should be. "How'd you know about me then? Unless I'm some kinda chosen one or something?"

He smiles, and your own grin wavers. "C'mon man, next thing you'll say you got me into this in the first place, that you gave me those coding books for Croakmas when I was three- oh fuck, you did, didn't you?"

You stare right into the god's shit-eating grin, and you don’t know whether to scream or laugh or try to do both at once. The superintendent doesn’t actually like you very much, does she? But she answers to a higher power that doesn’t care about that...

“You got me into this to begin with? But... you're not just fucking with me, right? This isn't just, I mean, this is really happening, you're not just nodding at whatever I say?" You stare into the mismatched lenses of his shades and try to gague whether he's telling the truth.

"It's all very real, Roxy. And yes, your intuition is correct; I've been interested in your progress for a long time."

"And you just want to play it all cool like it’s nobody’s thing or whatever, I just happened to be the best there is— which I am, don’t get me wrong.”

“Why would I select you, out of all of the orphans in the world?”

“Because I was... different?”

Sollux snorts. “You were a baby. What’s different about you?”

You take a moment to think about it. “You knew my parents. They were something special.”

His teeth gleam, sharper than any human smile. “Not a bad guess. But you’re wrong. You don’t have any parents. That’s why you’re special.”

You just about leap out of your chair. “What do you mean? Was I some sort of... cloning experiment or something?”

The Mage of Doom slips a card into your hand. “Study hard. Stay in school and out of trouble. Then maybe you’ll find out. And whatever you do, don’t pray.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, don’t call us. We’ll call you.”

The coat falls down around him, his wings unfurl, and—Sollux is gone and the room is empty, save for you.

You don’t talk with gods again for six more years. You manage to stay out of the bottle for nine.

[amarantine-amirite]

From 0′s and 1′s to “Zero to Hero”

It was a classic all nighter. A keyboard clacked away in a dark room lit by screens. The three of us clustered together on a pile of pillows, scheming deep into the night. Together, we banded together to take on the great demoscene assignment, due in 48 hours.

For those of you that don’t know what we’re talking about, a demo is a self-contained, often very small, piece of software that does nothing more than play a little computer generated movie. The purpose of a demo is to show off your totally radical computer art, coding, and music skills. Lydia did the music. I did the coding, even though I really wanted to do the art. The reason they had me do the coding is because Eleanor and Lydia universally agreed that my art was “stupid”. Eleanor did the art.

I think she was in for a bit of a shock when it came time to get to work on the project. Granted, in the group, the coder does the bulk of the work, but on a line for line basis; the artist writes the most code. I don’t think Eleanor had ever coded before this. I don’t think she was ready to write so much code.

"Shit" I heard Eleanor mutter under her breath, "why does the artist have to write so much code?"

"It's the animation" I deftly replied.

Eleanor looked at me and groaned. "Animation? You mean, I have to make all these pictures move, too?" She said exasperatedly, "I thought that was the coder's job."

She would be in for a shock when she heard the truth. "A lot of people think that, but it's actually the coder's job to get the animations working in time with the music as well as write the program that compresses it down to a video file." The minute I said that, her jaw dropped.

"So, it's the artist that animates everything?" She said, still very much surprised.

"Yes"

In the end, I did a bunch of the animations just to help get Eleanor started. I could really tell she struggled with this. None of the art freaks at my school are competent with the computer at all (case in point: it was actually one of the art freaks, not the cheerleaders, who was responsible for the infamous "credit card in the computer" incident.) The best coders in school are, not surprisingly, the nerds.

When you watched the finished product, you could really tell what I animated (some of the fancier stuff, like the pinball machine at the end, the slot machine, and the thing with the crocodile running a marathon) and what she animated (like the potato with an e on the end, the splash panel thing that had the words "wrong lever", and the peanut cracking open to reveal a moth flying out of it)

Oh, yeah, the finished product. Holy crap, was it ever bizarre. We used the song "Zero To Hero" from Hercules, and we used a bunch of random, unconnected imagery. It ran in time to the music, but it made absolutely no sense.

Want an example of how nuts the animation was? The part that everyone remembers was the part with the stick figure guy running away, then a foot stomps on him, followed by the words, "damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn" on the screen, and then some Pop-Tarts come out of the toaster. So, yeah. Really confusing. But we only had 48 hours to complete it, so we had no time to check to see if any of the imagery made any sense. Besides, I figured that the bulk of our grade would come from how closely the images synched up to the music.

The time to hand in our work had come and gone. Unfortunately, we ran into a little problem a few days later.

Mr. Drabek had the three of us come into his office. “Girls,” he began, “I never assigned you anything like this.” He stood up and paced around his office, chewing his pen as he walked. “In fact, I don't even teach you guys. You’re only in ninth grade.”

Remember how surprised Eleanor felt when she learnt that the artist of the bulk of the coating so is to animate the images? That's how surprised I was to hear that Mr. Drabek didn't actually teach us. "You don’t?"

Mr. Drabek stopped pacing and sat down. "No," he continued, "I only teach the 12th graders."

He only taught the 12th graders? That didn't seem right. I could have sworn I had a class with him, and I could have sworn that that class was computers. "But, Lydia and I heard you talking on the phone. You said something about a demo assignment that was due Monday."

Mr. Drabek shook his head. "Margaret, I also teach a computer science course at the community college, so that was probably what you were thinking of." He shrugged his shoulders. "Even then, their projects only had to be 15 seconds long." I had a difficult time believing what you just said. "Honey, it may seem impossible, but that’s the gospel truth."

Now, everyone knew that Mr. Drabek was the cool teacher that knew what was hip. Or, at least he tried to be. Sometimes, it didn’t work, like right now. After he said that, I thought to myself oh, come on; that’s not even the right song! The song were used in the demo was “Zero To Hero”

[deathfrisbeeinthetardis]

The Sky Beast, New and Improved Chapter 2

Yay I wrote a second chapter for the fic!! One of the key plot points is inspired by @q-unsolved‘s amazing art :D

Summary:

Ryan Bergara is 100% human until they shoot the Mothman episode. They didn’t find anything but Ryan might have brought a piece of the investigation home with him. Or: A bit of Mothman attaches to Ryan and he gets pretty cool perks. Shane is a fan.

Chapter 2 Summary:

Ryan goes to work with his wings tucked away, and they go camping for the weekend. Hijinks ensue.

Find it on Ao3 here or read below!

They take a sick day.   

Partly to figure out how to best keep Ryan's transformation a secret from the rest of the world. Partly just because it is all new and exciting, and the two men want the chance to completely regress to boys for the occasion, you know, to celebrate. 

Case in point, Ryan is flapping around his apartment with Shane on his tail, his wings doing all the work to keep them and Ryan's body from crashing into the walls or the furniture. They had taken time before this to clear away everything of value from shelves or tables, of course, they were capable of behaving like adults for a few minutes longer before they totally lost it.

"How's your six-foot-fourness helping now huh?" Ryan shouts with glee, cackling breathlessly as his wings maneuver him deftly away from Shane's outstretched hands, settling him to perch on top of a cupboard. 

"Damn it, why aren’t you obeying the laws of physics?" Shane wheezed, supporting his hands on his bent knees before said cupboard with a giant grin on his face, which brightened even more, "You know what? Your mob name is going to be wings now if I am to be called legs! It's only fair." he declared, straightening with hands on his hips.

"Uh, no way. My wings are totally going to be my secret weapon! I can't go announcing that to all my enemies, also Night-Night is way cooler. You're just jealous." Ryan stuck out his tongue, relishing in the joy of this moment. The past two hours actually, they really haven't accomplished much.

It takes another half an hour before both of them are too exhausted and hungry to continue, and they collapse onto Ryan's couch with a carton of orange juice between them, chugging it down with the fervor of men after vigorous aerobic exercise and several cases of severe laughter-syndrome. 

"So," Shane says when his breaths finally start to even out, "We know you can fly outside the natural laws of this earth. Also, I think I saw you're eyes glint red when the light hit it a few minutes ago, you're not about to go rogue on me now are you?"

"Wait, really?" He really hadn't noticed, cause that's not how eyes work. It was probably too dark the last time he looked in the mirror that morning for him to see. Ryan sets the carton onto the coffee table and hops over it to get to the window where watery sunlight shines into the room. Using his phone as a makeshift mirror, he wiggles his head until the light catches his eyes at a certain angle and, "Oh wow, they really are red."

"That could be a problem with filming, especially when our cameras are all good enough to avoid red-eye." Shane pauses, then chuckles, "Oh boy, if the fans ever find out they are going to go crazy. All those theorists positing how I'm a demon are gonna come after you now!"

Ryan wrinkles his nose at his reflection, "You're being way too happy about this."

"Hey, you win some you lose some. At least your red eyes are normal-sized, not like goggles or something like in the myths."

"Goggles," Ryan frowns at that, something in his memory sparking an idea, "didn't you recently get those pair of broke-Tony Stark glasses? The yellow ones?" He eyes Shane without turning, "You think they sell red ones? I can always say the red is from the glasses' reflection."

The other man makes a considering noise and pulls out his phone, after a minute his brows climb high on his forehead, stretching out his hand to show the screen displaying an astounding collection of red-tinted sunglasses, "They're supposed to help with visibility apparently, like the yellow ones." He strokes his nonexistent goatee, "Hmm I wonder what character wears red glasses, I gotta get you back for that Tony Stark comment."

"Shut up, Shane," Ryan replies almost on instinct, squinting at the screen to pick out the least obnoxious design. There was an optician's a few blocks from his apartment and Shane volunteers to get Ryan a pair while he practices camouflaging into a normal human workplace.

It actually turns out to be pretty easy, just as long as he keeps the thought of the necessity of the invisibility in the back of his mind. Ryan also discovers to his delight and Shane's halfhearted dismay that tangibility does not seem to affect his flight ability much beyond some extra concentration. He'll be fine tomorrow at work. He'll just have to remember to take a break every few hours to stretch or something. 

The shoot on Monday though, that could be a problem. Now that he has gotten used to his wings through one day of intense usage, Ryan has absolutely no guarantees that if he gets spooked he won't just flap away on instinct. 

Shane sleeps over that night to 'observe the Mothman in his natural habitat', Ryan decides his newest favorite sleeping position right in the middle of a five-pillow nest and when he drifts off he dreams about the red-eyed Mothman from the stories.

On Friday, Ryan wears the biggest hoodie he owns to work, just in case his wings pop-out unplanned. Despite the confidence from the day before, paranoia of a different kind creeps up on him as he sits at his desk next to Shane. He almost never comes in this early, but it was better than walking through the office with everyone there. 

He stares bleary-eyed when his computer boots up, taking his new glasses out of the case and setting them on his nose. The color gives everything a mildly sinister tinge and makes him more self-conscious of his appearance than he has been in a long time, but they do their job. 

He's quite proud that he only jumps a little when Jen calls "Nice specs, Ryan!" from six desks away. He also manages to wait until lunch break before he has to race to the bathroom to let his wings out. One of the pros of working at Buzzfeed is that there are constantly so many weird things happening that his abnormal choice in eye-wear didn't draw any attention more than a few comments and even some compliments. 

All things considered, it's a good day. Ryan even manages to get a good chunk of editing done amidst his paranoia and routine banter with Shane, the latter has gradually started to become more and more moth specific. Seriously did the guy research all the moth puns through the night?

"What do you call a group of moths dancing around a light?" Shane leans over to say an hour before they can go home for the weekend, his eyes twinkling, "A moth pit." 

Ryan groans, choosing not to respond as the passive-aggressive way to protest against the excessive abuse of all things moth-related within the day. His shoulders feel stiff, and out of habit he folds his arms behind his head and leans back in a long slow stretch, and it is the most satisfying stretch in his life, as the strain of a whole afternoon of mostly sitting still with his head craned forward just vanishes. He hums a little in satisfaction. 

Simultaneously, the lights overhead go out. So does his computer. And everyone else's. 

"Oh no no no my computer just crashed!?"

"Is there a power outage? What's going on?"

"I didn't save..."

Ryan is frozen in his position as the cacophony of voices barrages his now slightly enhanced hearing, and it hits him a moment later. In a flash, he's hunching down in his seat, trying to seem as small as he can with his face in his hands, while his invisible wings come down to wrap around him from where they had just stretched too, unseen. Fuck. Wasn't there a thing about electrical malfunctions on the nights of Mothman sightings? Oh god, he hopes he didn't knock the whole of Los Angeles off the grid. He feels his face flush, the skin heating up against his palms. Great job Bergara. Fantastic managing of your powers. 

Shane, who had been in the process of returning to his own editing after snickering at his godawful joke, has his hands hovering over the keyboard and a bemused smile on his face as he tilts his head and sees Ryan with the hood of his hoodie pulled down over his face. 

"I'm sorry," Ryan mumbles faintly into his hands, "I didn't think that part would apply to me."

Shane looks at him for a moment, then he claps a hand on Ryan's shoulder and wiggles him a little in his seat as his smile splits into a grin, "Lucky for you, I save my work by the hour. Otherwise, you'd have to fly like hell cause I'll tackle you."

"You'd never catch me," Ryan says, lifting his head a little to shoot a grateful glance at the taller man, "remember yesterday?"

"Oh but I was unprepared!" Shane declares, rubbing his hands and widening his eyes until he resembled a crazed hunter, "Next time I'll have a bow and a ton of those suction-tipped arrows, and I'm bringing you down baby!"

"You're unbelievable." Ryan huffs with a laugh, glancing around the pandemonium that has descended onto the BuzzFeed office and what seems to be the street outside as well, "Ugh, wanna head back now? We're gonna have to walk, uber is definitely not going to work."

Shane nods, chuckling silently at the whole situation. On their way out, Ryan desperately avoids eye contact with anyone and stares at his red-tinted feet, only snapping out of his inner guilt tirade when Shane pokes him in the rib.

"Stop looking down and hunching your shoulders, makes you look more guilty." He chides, the stupid grin still on his face as he tugs Ryan's hood back as they walk onto the sunlit street. "They'll just blame it on PG&E. The whole thing will teach everyone a lesson to be on top of their job and not rely entirely on technology and big electrical companies to save their work."

"You're just smug that you didn't get affected as much." Ryan retorts, but the comment didn't have any actual heat behind it. 

"You bet I am. Come on, buck up buddy. We've got the entire weekend to have fun with this!" The taller man gestured to the general area on Ryan's back where his wings hung hidden, "Don't you want to go into the wild and see what happens?"

Ryan would never tell Shane this, but his wings stir and shudder a little at the words as if they were dying to show the extent of their abilities. Traitors. 

They end up in Monrovia Canyon Park after an hour-long drive that afternoon, since they figured most of LA's population would be out in the city doing fun Friday night things, so the chances of anyone seeing a figure flying through the trees of the park are greatly reduced. Fortunately, they arrive with around an hour of sunlight left to hike in and set up their camping gear. Unfortunately, the light gives Ryan the opportunity to read the sign at the trailhead. 

"Fuck no." Ryan yelps, pointing an accusing finger at the picture of a black bear with the words 'warning, you are entering bear territory' emblazoned in black under it. He's terrified of bears, those things are the apex predators of the land, and Shane knows that because they've argued about this multiple times, on camera. It's probably why he chose this damn park over the others. "I am not camping here with those things around."

The man shrugs and the tall backpack on his shoulders rise up at least half a foot with the motion. "It is the most heavily wooded park in the area, and I do have this bear mace here," He says innocently, though his brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight seem to issue a challenge that riles up something in Ryan into a frenzy. "And in case you forgot, you can fly, Ryan, no bears are gonna get you."

"I hate you," Ryan mutters darkly, shooting the other man a look that was something between affection and scorn. What Shane said makes sense, logically, and Ryan is beyond annoyed when stuff like this happens on the regular. Speaking of powers, he wonders if there are any more tricks up the Mothman's sleeve that he can use to give Shane a good getting back at. 

Ryan half stomps over and yanks the canister of anti-bear from the side pocket of the taller man's pack, scowling at his snicker and latches onto the cool metal with a death grip, finger crooked into the trigger. Shane is right on one account, no bears are going to get him on this trip, or he'll get a face of mace and whatever cool shit Mothman can do when it's spooked. 

They dump their bags in a patch of grass amidst the trees, far from any established trails or camping grounds just to be safe. With a sigh of relief, Ryan's wings materialize at his back, dark against the dimly lit forest around them, dwarfing Ryan with their span. It seems they hadn't been at their full size that day in his apartment. They now stretch twelve feet in total, drawing a sharp awed inhale from Shane as the powerful limbs flex and stretch in their freedom. The best part? Ryan didn't even have to take off his hoodie, the wings found their own way through the material without really altering it. 

Ryan rolls his neck and relishes the warmth that the cracks leave behind as the soreness melts away, and he grins at Shane. "What now?" he says, a little breathless already.

"Whatever feels natural, Ryan." Shane says with a wolfish grin of his own, "Just let go of all the stress and embrace mother nature." 

So Ryan lets his eyes flutter close and gives in to that wild part in him that has started stirring since their investigation in Virginia. When he opens his eyes again, their red glint sharpens his vision as his wings carry him straight up into the air. The wind whips at his face and he has his arms spread wide, laughter bubbling out of him as his previous fear of heights dissolves into the crisp rich air.

He rides the soft winds, weaving through the semi-dense woods around their campsite and listens to his new instincts as he twirled in the air performing moves that he had once seen professional divers do. He feels free in there, and even though the falls and dips in height still send his stomach clenching, it's more in anticipation of the thrill of control, of pulling back at the very last second to glide just a few feet off the ground, rather than fear. He flies and perches on various treetops and swoops again, all to the whooping and cheering of Shane from down bellow. 

"Hey Ryan! Look what I brought!" He shouted, and Ryan glides down to a lower branch to give the not-so-tall looking man a questioning glance, the man was smirking with mischief, holding out a hand to wiggle a bright camping lantern in his direction, "Since you're Mothman, d'you feel anything for this here light?"

Ryan was about to adjust his grip on the branch to only using a certain finger on both hands when suddenly Shane yelps and starts to do a twitchy dance with his upper body. For a second Ryan panics, but he was just close enough for his enhanced night vision to see that the strange behavior is, in fact, not caused by a demon possessing his friend. 

"Oh, fuck is that a wasp?" Ryan bursts out laughing at the way Shane's face contorts a little at the tiny insect buzzing uncomfortably close to his face and did not feel sorry at all for his friend. Nope. Ryan was almost squealing in delight as Shane batted at the wasp as best he could, flapping his long arms around with a panicked look on his face. 

"See what you get? This is what you get! Yes! Take that for--" Its a shame that his victory speech is cut short when a wasp materializes right in front of his own face, sending him tumbling backward off the branch with a high pitched screech. 

A part of his brain thinks that if people heard what he had just uttered, there are going to be reports of the first Mothman sighting in Los Angelas. 

For some life-fucking reason, the wasp--actually three of them now-- tormenting Shane decide to refocus their attention on the flying creature instead of the sasquatch. They obviously haven’t taken physics or learned about surface area.

Ryan threads his way through the trees with much less of his previous flare and joy, flying for his life as the few wasps quickly grow to a swarm, despite a small voice in his head encouraging him to stop, to take a stand. What the fuck did he ever do to them?? It's not like he kicked their nest or something. Frustration and exhaustion combining is never a good look on Ryan, and after what he estimates is four minutes of high-speed air chase, he dives to the ground. Landing softly, he lets instincts take over, whirling around to let out a snarl at the swarm that races for him, wings arched at his back and shaking slightly to make rustling sounds.

The wasp swarm halts before him with a jerk.

Ryan's teeth are bared, which is kind of dumb, cause he doesn't have fangs so that image must not be very scary to anyone. But the wasps hover before him, their formation shifting uncertainly, and Ryan can see the detail on each and every buzzing insect with crystal clarity. A deadly calm washes over him.

"Heel." He growls, and his own voice startles himself. With all the macho, gangster bits they've done on Unsolved, he has never heard his voice go this low and guttural. Ryan blinks, and the heavy blanket of calm is gone. 

The wasps hold still, their formation now in a fixed sphere as they buzzed quietly. Respectfully, a part of Ryan's mind supplies, they serve him now. What the hell just happened?

A crackle of a boot on dry leaves has Ryan whipping his head around to see Shane approaching him with a flashlight and bear mace in perfect Harries position, concern and something like dread tightening his face. "Ryan come here, get away from the wasps." 

"They're not a threat anymore Shane," he said, tone stiff and tired. "They obey me now." The taller man looks doubtful but after a few flashes of light at the swarm produced no change in the wasps' motion, he slowly lowered the mace can. 

"I-I didn't know what to do so I just grabbed this," he said, lifting the mace a bit and then letting his arms drop back to his side. "Ryan are you okay? Your hands are shaking."

"What?" Ryan says absently, and there are tremors running through his hands. He clenches them into fists and tucks them into his hoodie pocket. A flick of his head at the swarm has them dispersing, buzzing back to wherever the hell they popped out from. "We're losing light, we should set up the tent," he says as he turns to walk back to where they had dropped their bags.

Shane stands his ground and reaches out a hand to catch the smaller man's shoulder when Ryan tries to walk past him, and his eyes widen slightly as Ryan's wings bristle at the contact, but his grip is firm. "If there's something wrong, Ry, anything at all that feels off about this whole Mothman thing, you'd tell me, right?"

"Yeah. I'm fine, big guy." Ryan offers the taller man a small smile, though it might have wavered a little. He can tell that his friend would have liked answers to a great many questions about how he felt, about the mad chase and about that final showdown, but the man didn't push. He trusts Ryan to reach out if he needed it.

The problem is, Ryan has never been that good with emotions.

But at the moment he feels... okay. The excitement of the ordeal seems to have canceled out his energy. So he smiles some more, "I promise." At Shane's not at all satisfied expression, he nudges the taller man with the tip of a dark wing, "Come on, help me light a fire. I'm dying for some smores."

And so they did.

[sulfurousdreamscapes]

"Get in the car, dumbass," Janine said, "We're going to go see where the moon's going to fall."

Cadence and Madhavi were already in. The hood was down. The headlights glared seductively. I grabbed the door handle.

The moon was falling. A fiery glow enveloped it as it hurtled down towards the Earth. We'd calculated that the impact point was going to be near our town. Well, I say 'we', but Cadence did most of the numbers. Then Madhavi had called her a human computer, and that pissed Cadence off so much that I had to step in.

"You girls get any drinks for us? We're gonna party, right?" I asked. Cadence pulled a beer from somewhere below the seat. She opened the bottle with her teeth and handed it to me.

"Yeah, now that's what I'm talking about," I grinned at her, and she just nodded upwards at me like she was saying "Sure, kid."

Madhavi took her hair tie off and let her hair fly in the wind. The hair reached me in the back seat, but I didn't mind. She used a really nice shampoo.

"Surprised this place isn't crawling with tourists yet," Janine said. "Not a car in the streets."

Our faces were lit by the flashing red-and-yellow of the falling moon. It got closer as we sped through the forest, drinking beers and talking about how we were all probably going to be burnt to a crisp.

"This is the first interesting thing that's ever happened anywhere in the radius of this town," Madhavi said, using her hands to collect her hair to tie them up again, before realising she didn't have to, or want to.

"Well, back in the Civil War—" Janine began, but in the interest of our collective sanity, I cut her off.

"Can you imagine it? No more moon, guys. No more staring out of the window pining for your lost love in, shit, I don't know, France, or whatever."

Cadence laughed. "They don't have the moon in France, silly," she said, "They have... la lune."

"La lune," the rest of us mimicked her French in unison.

"No, but like," Janine said once the laughing died down, "Everything that's ever been written about the moon, all these thousands of years of writing and singing about the moon, will all be literally history."

"Isn't it already history?" Madhavi asked.

"You know what I mean."

"Fuck yeah, we're entering a dark new world," Cadence screamed into the lit up night.

"Think we'll have time enough for a last selfie with the moon?" I asked.

The reply was a resounding nyeh.

"I don't care, bitches, I'm taking one," I said, and I turned around in my seat, pulling my phone out.

There it was on the screen, burning bright, the moon we were driving towards like moths to the flame.

I couldn't bring myself to press the camera button, though. I just stared at the moon in the screen for a long time, until Cadence pulled me down and made me sit properly.

"How many selfies are you taking, damn," she asked.

"I don't know, Cadence," I muttered, "I just saw it like this and I thought... I'm going to miss the moon, you know?"

[dansnaturepictures]

Picture context post-Spotted Flycatcher at Fritham in the New Forest yesterday 

For last week I reached an interesting point for my (now occasional) casual end of week photo review posts which replaced my old photo of the week picking system coming up to a year ago next month. I had decided now I would only do the Twitter reply to or quote the tweet that had my favourite or one of my favourite pictures taken in a week when I had a clear theme within my photos. 

Last week a good theme developed because after a bit of a drought over August I took more butterfly and as it happened rarer for me moth pictures with my macro lens. But last night when pulling some together I decided yes this was a big theme but none of what I saw as my better macro pictures last week I could genuinely call “One of my favourite pictures I took this week”. Instead I felt clearly that this picture of one of my first Spotted Flycatchers this year yesterday was one of my favourite two pictures taken last week clearly, the landscape at Fritham the other, but this one brought me the most joy and deserved the repost. 

Now with the reposts on Saturdays or Sunday mornings via doing a picture context post its tended to be landscape and other non-wildlife pictures I’ve done it for as it can be tricky linking them to a clear theme and I find there is always so much more around the view they’re showing to talk about like things I saw that day or things I felt. So I don’t usually do this type of post for my wildlife pictures that slip well into themes within these casual and occasional reposts. But I felt I could use this post to give you an insight into my process of taking the pictures in the field and how they make it to your computer/phone screens in the evenings.

As I mention how this picture was taken it will overlap with my blog of the trip yesterday, posted here: http://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/177627353332/010918-fabulous-fritham-in-the-new-forest-today So I don’t have to do the usual bit for these posts about what else I saw and did and why it was a top afternoon for me yesterday or even what seeing these birds meant for my year as you can or may have already read about it. 

But I would like to go specifically to when I was in that magic piece of woodland and little bit of heath and the Spotted Flycatchers were gliding in and out of trees. It was a truly amazing experience. The bird in the picture was about the 4th we clearly identified as a Spotted Flycatcher, I maybe had about five or six different shots (all with 3 or 4 different versions of as I often do to cover all bases) to select one from of the Flycatchers and the little series of them this came from were by far the closest up. As we were watching one in a distant tree this one just glided over and I could clearly see it was going to the top of one of the nearest trees to us. It was similar to what the year tick bird minutes earlier had done, only it just missed the tree in front of me and I had to walk behind to another tree to see where it had landed. The one I photographed stayed for a while and was even joined by another bird before flying off. 

When I got the pictures onto my laptop from my camera memory card my thoughts were confirmed that I wanted to take one of these specific shots forward, I deliberated between two near identical pictures for a bit before making the decision. But at this stage I was still thinking it’ll be a record shot so one I think isn’t my best quality but shows well a rare species or one I don’t often photograph, had this had been of a Robin for example my history with photographing that bird may have lead me to overlook it. But I was happy with that as in my five recent sightings of these birds (two in 2015, then 2016, 2017 and yesterday) it was only the first where I got a very far off record shot of it at Godshill in the New Forest. 

After running all my pictures yesterday through photoshop I came to look through them all on Windows Photo Viewer as I do before uploading and I was stunned when I came to this one honestly. I found it to be of such clear and sharp quality compared to what I maybe thought it would be once I had finished the processing and it blew my only previous Spotted Flycatcher attempt out of the water. It was a moment of pure joy which I have a lot when I finally see what my creations will look like and that’s one reason I love wildlife and landscape photography because the enjoyment especially within the day doesn’t stop when I turn my eyes away from a bird, other creature of scene. This picture for me probably sits in a category of hyper record shots where yes they are maybe not my best ever bird pictures or this year but their quality goes beyond simply serving as a sole memory, it joins such pictures as my Little Owl at St. Leonard’s Barn and Corn Bunting at Martin Down ones this year in this class.

[lunadensmidnightprowl]

New Moon Dreams - Chapter 2

Well here’s chapter 2 of New Moon Dreams!

~~~ Wifi Has Changed Us ~~~

Alexia had always been careful to keep her superhero alias as Lunaden from her friends, family, and adopted sister/crush, Claire.  But as the Lunaden fan base grows after her epic save of Paris, and evidence that could unearth her secret becomes apparent, Claire isn't the only one who grows suspicious of Alexia.  The superheroine's identity is at risk, will it stay a secret, especially from Claire?

3rd Person POV

        If you had looked up one fateful night, two nights before it all began, you would have seen the hero trio running across rooftops, hurrying to take down a rerisen foe.  You would have seen Ladybug call her Lucky Charm, Chat Noir wield his Cataclysm, and Lunaden bring an Eclipse to her form.  You would have seen the villain fall under their might, brought down by their force, then be risen again as the evil was taken out of him.  You would have seen the restoration of life from just two words, the call of victory from the heroes, and their disappearance.  Lunaden and Chat, blending into the night like they owned it, Ladybug not finding it hard to vanish as well, they were not to be seen until they were called for yet again.  But that would be sooner than they thought.

~ Alexia ~ 

(This little section is actually the day before that fateful night mentioned above - like this is what happened, then what happened on the night)

        It had been a week after her defeat of the villain Sculptori as her super alias Lunaden, but she was already noticing the wolf heroine's rising fame.  However, she wasn't so sure how well she liked it, there were, well, problems that could arise with it.  Alexia had done a little research on the beginning of Ladybug and Chat Noir just for an idea what it might be like for her as she started her regime over Paris.  It seemed that there had been people who were set on finding their secret identities, people who were still trying.

        Sure, there were problems being a new superhero, but there had to be good things about being one too.  Alexia didn't mind one of them when she discovered it a few days ago.

* 4 Days Ago *

        "Hey Claire," Alexia said, walking down the hall and opening the door to her sister's room, "Mom wants to know what you... whoa."

        "What was that?" Claire asked innocently, turning off her computer and swiveling around in her chair to face Alexia.

        "What was that?" Alexia sent the question back at her, crossing her arms as she did so.

        "What was what?" 

        Alexia put her arms down and walked over to Claire, the girl was shuffling somewhat nervously in her chair.  "What was that on your computer?"

        "Homework," Claire replied.

        "Then why did you turn it off when I came in?" Alexia countered.

        "Surprise project."

        Alexia was the master of secrets and lies in her household, though no one knew that, you kinda had to be if you were a superhero.  She saw right through this little cover pulled to hide her real actions.  "I'm in all of your classes, we have no surprise project."

        "Extra credit," Claire tried again.

        "I've never seen you raise your hand in class or go and talk to the teacher," Alexia said.

        "I emailed her," she lied.

        "No you didn't."  Whatever she had been doing, Alexia was determined to find out because Claire seemed to be digging herself deeper and deeper into a hole just to get out of the situation.

        "Yes I did."

        "No you didn't."

        And so it went.

        "Ok fine!  It's not extra credit." Claire cracked.

        "Then what is it?" Alexia asked.

        "Private."

        "C'mon, you can tell me," she begged.

        Claire groaned, putting her forehead to her desk, "You never rest do you?"

        Alexia put her head next to Claire's now raised head, "Never," she said with a cheeky smile.

        Claire sighed, she just wanted for this to end, "You promise you won't tell?"

        Alexia thought of all the secrets she had that only her kwami knew, who for the record, was also a secret.  "I promise."

        She sighed again and turned on her computer. 

        If Alexia had been drinking anything she would have done a spit take, "You have a crush on Lunaden?"

        "Yes, and I'm already regretting telling you," Claire said through narrowed eyes.

        "Well, its just that you don't have to feel embarrassed about that.  There are probably plenty of people at school have a crush on Ladybug and Chat Noir, Lunaden too no doubt."  Alexia said.

        Claire looked almost hopeful, probably relieved she wasn't alone in a boat, "You really think so?"

        Alexia was confident, "I know so."  She walked back out of the room, stopping at the doorway so she could mime zipping up her mouth, "My lips are sealed."  She walked down the hall again before stopping, peeking once more into the doorway, this time miming unzipping her mouth, "By the way, what do you want for dinner?"

* Back to the Present-ish/Time Skip * - brought to you by Skai's obsession of candied fruit  (I literally don't know right now)

        Ever since Alexia found out about her sister's crush on her superhero self, she longed to reveal her secret to Claire.  It was kinda funny, Alexia liked Claire, but Claire like Lunaden, who happened to be Alexia but she didn't know it.

        "It's for the greater good," Lunaden said one night, climbing in through her window after a superhero exploit (It is that fateful night).  She sulked over and laid face down on her bed, "If I told her no doubt it would somehow get to Hawk Moth and then so many people would be in danger."

        She detransformed, fading back into Alexia, no longer powering her owner's superhero form, Skai zipped over to a bag of candied fruit left on Alexia's desk and began ferreting around in it.  "Maybe once Hawk Moth's defeated you'll be able to tell her Lexi," Skai said after stuffing her mouth, poking her head out of the bag.

        Alexia rolled onto her back and smiled at her kwami, "Maybe, but for now I'll just add it to the pile of things I want to tell her.  Right next to my crush on her."

        "You should really get on that," Skai commented, putting one more piece of fruit into her mouth before flying to rest on the pillow beside Alexia's head.

        The girl finally started to relax, "I'm not worried about it Skai.  As long as Claire has a crush on Lunaden, then I have time."

~ Claire ~

        Claire listened for any sounds that might have come from her family, she wanted to make sure they were asleep before she was going to do anything.  Upon hearing nothing but familiar nighttime noises, she carefully and quietly climbed out of bed and over to her computer.  The screen lit up and it hummed to life as Claire placed her hand onto the mouse.  It clicked under her hand as she moved from website to website.  The earbuds that had been placed into her ears buzzed as she watched video after video.

        It was hours when Claire finally grew tired of her project and began to close the many tabs and windows on her computer.  Before she turned off the device however she stared at her week old desktop picture, it had been screenshotted from some news footage.

        As she admired her desktop, Claire absentmindedly fingered a necklace that usually hid behind her shirt.  The necklace was silver chain and heart pendant, something that had been supposed to have been given to a crush almost a moon ago.  Reflected light from the computer screen flashed across the pendant before it was released from the girl's grasp, falling back into place around her neck.

        Claire placed her left index and middle fingers to her lips and then to a certain spot on the computer screen.  "I will find you, and then we will be together at last..."  The computer was shut off and the room plunged into complete darkness.

~ Alya ~

        Alya woke up early the next morning to several new comments on her Ladyblog.  Ever since Lunaden's legendary save of Paris, anything on the blog mentioning the superhero got plagued with comments, about one thing.

        At first Alya tried to dissuade the idea, it hadn't worked with Ladybug and Chat Noir so why try with Lunaden?  However, after reading so many pleas and requests, Alya couldn't help but start to feel intrigued by the idea herself.  Lunaden had never said she couldn't try...

        She excitedly started to work, adrenaline pumping through her veins, this would be her biggest story yet.  Alya had barely started before a memory or the wolf hero flickered through her subconscious, "Can I trust you?" the vision asked.  She shook her head, that had nothing to do with what she was doing now, completely unrelated.  But, was it?

~ Alexia ~ 

        Alexia was proud of how far Claire had come in confidence ever since they moved to Paris, especially with all the akuma attacks.  She no longer dragged the girl around, so Claire walked off when Alexia stopped to talk to her friends.  Claire waved a 'See you later' to Alexia before starting up the steps, Alexia could feel a blush creeping onto her face before it disappeared with Alya's words.

        "I've found something out about Lunaden."

        She was talking to Alexia and Marinette but Alexia hadn't been paying her that much attention until that sentence.

        I've found something out about Lunaden.

        What did she find out?  Did she know that she was Lunaden?" Alexia was screaming in terror on the inside, paling in the face on the outside.

        Suddenly, Claire stood beside Alexia again, she was interested in what Alya had to say.  Neither Marinette nor Alya noticed Claire and Alexia just tried to control the worry starting to show in her face so she didn't give away her identity herself.

        "You know that app I have that can break down voices?" Alya asked Marinette, then addressed both of her friends, "Well according to it, Lunaden, just like Ladybug, is a girl our age."

        "That's really great bu-" Alexia started to fake a congratulations but she got interrupted by Marinette.

        "I don't think you should be trying to figure out Lunaden's secret identity," she said.

        Both Alexia and Alya looked at her quizzically, Marinette wasn't usually like this.  "Girl why not?" Alya protested.

        "Because!" Marinette waved her arms around for emphasise, "You could put everyone she knows in danger if Hawk Moth finds out who she is."

        Alya waved this away, "I wouldn't tell, I'd help her fight crime!"

        Alexia stifled a laugh, Alya, or should she say, Rena Rouge, already helped with that.

        The two looked like they were going to say something else but the bell rang, making the four of them sprint for their classroom.

        "Saved by the bell," Alexia murmured.

***

        That day was hotter than usual, every classroom filled with a stifling and muggy heat.

        After lunch, it was even hotter.  Beads of sweat rolled down Alexia's face continuously, other people having similar reactions.  Alexia was hating what she wearing, black jeans, a blue long sleeved shirt, and a purple hoodie like vest, why did it have to be so hot?  She was even dispising her signature footwear, red high top converse.

        "Ms. Bustier," Mylene raised her hand, "Can we please open a window or something?"

        Everyone was thankful for the kind teacher who agreed.  They weren't so happy though when a swarm of pigeons flew into the room, about 17 or so.  Several went after Chloe and her "BFF" Sabrina, appearing to be trying to peck them to death, the other pigeons were flying around the classroom causing disorder.  

        No one noticed when Alexia pulled out her phone and stared at it from its hiding place under her desk.  "Mr. Pigeon," she growled, turning on the news, "I should have known."

        Alexia raised her hand and asked to go to the bathroom, but it was almost impossible to tell if Ms. Bustier allowed her to leave.  So Alexia just left.

        She raced down the hall, sprinting into the bathroom as fast as she could, hearing footsteps behind her.  Quickly locking herself in a stall, she transformed.  "Skai, Howl Time!" she whispered and as soon as she got her powers she leapt out of the small window in the bathroom, right as the door started to open behind her.

~ Lunaden POV ~  (*gasp* yes I am starting to do first person POVs :P)

        I was standing on a rooftop, about 3 blocks from school, trying to find Mr. Pigeon.  This was the craziest villain name of them all, I mean, who names themselves Mr. Pigeon?  But I wasn't just trying to locate this bad news birdy bandit but also waiting for Little Cat and Ladybug, they had still not become active according to my disc.  I closed it back up, sighing as I did so, and went back to searching for the feathery fiend from my post.

        "How's it going Lulu?  Are you working like a dog?" a voice asked behind me a few minutes later.  I jumped a little, surprised by Chat Noir's sudden appearance.

        Regaining my composure and adding a deadpan expression, I shrugged, "Eh..."

        "What do you think this bird brain's squawking about now?" I asked as Ladybug jumped up beside us.

        "No idea, he may have a grudge against the mayor or his daughter though, I saw her being attacked by pigeons earlier," the bug responded.  "We have to find him first."

        "I'm no bird dog but I'll try my best," I smiled, pointing at my nose to indicate that I have a strong sense of smell.  I leapt to my feet and walked around the rooftop, sniffing the air.

        "Lucky," I heard Noir mutter.

        "And why is it that I'm lucky Little Chat?" I asked, stopping my search to look at him.

        He looked taken aback that I had heard him.  I snickered, "Strong sense of hearing too," the fluffy ears on the top of my head twitched.

        "He's allergic to feathers," Ladybug said.

        "Well that's helpful," I smirked, turning back to sniff out Mr. Pigeon.

***

        "Pound it," the three of us heroes said as Mr. Pigeon turned back into Mr. Ramier and everything returned to normal.

        My miraculous beeps, another blue point bites the dust, "I've gotta run!" I said quickly hurrying away and into an alley.

        "Silent Night," I say and detransform.  Even without my powers I have an excellent sense of hearing and I could make out footsteps coming closer to my alley.

        I panicked and ran, turning to the left as I reached the end of the alley and running onto a sideroad.  Sprinting back to the school, using anything for cover to lose my pursuer.

        Coming up to school I thought I lost them, breathing out in relief.

***

        I ran to keep up with Lunaden as she disappeared into an alley, this was my chance to figure her out.  Setting my phone to record, a flash of blue light came out of the alley and I ran forward even faster, maybe I could catch her!

        Lunaden must have heard me coming because she ran, her shadow vanishing as she ran around a corner.  I kept after her but she seemed to have disappeared entirely when I came to the other side of the alley.

        Sighing with disappointment, I turned off the camera and pulled up the footage I had managed to get.  There was the flash of blue light, the camera jiggling as I ran, and then the girl's shadow turning a corner.  A splash of color caught my attention, pausing the video right before the shadow vanished, I saw it.  Lunaden's shoe.  The camera had managed to get a picture of what her shoe looked like as it peeked around the corner.

        A lead!  I had a lead to find out who Lunaden was, it was someone who wore this kind of shoe, a red high top converse.

(Oh no! 😱 Alya found out Lunaden's shoe which also happens to be Alexia's signature shoe!)

~ Alexia POV ~

        My phone chirped with a new text as I was making my way back to Ms. Bustier's class.

*To you and Marinette*

Alya:  I got a lead on Lunaden!  Her shoe is a red high top converse

        I was screaming inside my head, not wanting to attrack attention if I did it out loud.

Marinette:  Doesn't Lexi wear the same kind of shoe?

        I tried to stifle a scream when I read that, I did scream but thankfully it wasn't that loud.  Why Marinette? Why? 

Alexia:  You guys remember I'm on this chat right?

Alexia:  And before you ask, no, I am not Lunaden

Alya:  You're still on the suspect list, not many people wear that kind of shoe

Alexia:  C'mon Alls, I'm not Lunaden  I'd tell you if I was

Marinette:  Well if I was Lunaden I wouldn't tell you guys to protect my identity

Alexia:  Well in all seriousness Mari, are you Lunaden?

Alexia:  jk  I know you're not

Alya:  True, her hair color isn't the same  wait, girls I just thought of something

Alexia:  Alls, later  cuz don't we have to be in class?

***

        Alya approached me after school when I was in the locker room, grabbing some things from my locker before I headed home.

        "Hey Alls," I said, "Whatcha need?"

        "Oh nothing," she replied, then whispered the next part, "...Lunaden."

        "Wh-what?!" I sputtered, "I'm not Lunaden."

        "Girl I know you are.  Your shoes match the picture of Lunaden's shoe I got earlier today, you have brown hair, in a braid I might add, like her, your eyes are also exactly like hers." Alya said.

        I was getting frustrated and kind of desperate at this point, "No." I said firmly, "I Am. Not. Lunaden."

        Alya was oblivious to my rising anger and seemed to only process that I had denied being the wolf heroine once more.  "C'mon it's obvious girl."

        "I AM FLIPPING NOT HER ALYA!!!" I screamed, my temper finally getting the better of me.  "Just quit your little obsession before you do something that you regret!" 

        Everyone was staring at me, my face was red not only from anger but also from embarrassment, I ran.  Leaving a very hurt, and somewhat ticked, Alya behind.

3rd Person POV

        Alya was walking home, staring at her phone as she made her way down the sidewalk.  The phone was split screened between a picture of Lunaden's civilian shoe and a picture of Alexia's shoes.

        The akuma fluttered down, being absorbed into the phone and the device went dark, Hawk Moth speaking through it.

        "Nice to see you again Lady Wifi.  You believe your friend is lying to you, hiding the truth.  Just like before I'm giving you the power to expose the liars and unmask the truth.  These powers come at price and you know what I want, but there's something more, Lunaden's miraculous as well." Hawk Moth said.

        "Liars are losers Hawk Moth," Alya, er, Lady Wifi said. "The truth is what I'll tell," she smirked.

        And Alya was akumatized.

~ Alexia POV ~

        I was doing my homework, ugh, and still being a little frustrated with Alya.  She never gave up did she?

        Relieved for the distraction of my phone buzzing with a news alert, I set my homework aside and picked it up.  Almost immediately dropping it afterwards, I was sure what was on the screen when I abandoned the device was the news caption, 'Lady Wifi Returns'.

        I ran upstairs and into my room, locking the door before I ran to the other side of the room and opened the window, crawling through it and onto the fire escape.

        "Skai, Howl Time!" I said and transformed, before I jumped off of the structure and onto a rooftop nearby.  Running across rooftops I met up with Ladybug and Chat Noir, it wasn't that hard to find Wifi after that.  She was going down the street, floating along on a play symbol, throwing pauses at people who were wearing red shoes.

        "You're not Lunaden," she said every time after she froze someone.

        I didn't like her freezing innocent people so I called down to her, "Of course they're not Glitch!  I'm Lunaden!"

        She turned and looked up at us, a grin on her face, "Oh I know that."  And she disappeared.

        "Where did she go?" I heard Chat ask but I was already on top of the situation, looking around for her.  I found her standing farther down the street, cars in front of her jammed in traffic.

        The girl in black projected her image into the sky, "Your heroes are going to be torn between two, the truth and where their morality lies, or, hundreds of innocent lives."

        The projection disappeared and Wifi flew up on her play symbol.  She fired pauses into the lines of cars stationary on the street, trapping people inside.  Then she threw a fast forward symbol at a bus still several blocks away.  Based on its direction, it would smash into all the cars stuck to the pavement, probably killing the people inside.

        Lady Wifi cackled and digitized into little particles.  I could just make out the direction she was going in before the particles disappeared from sight.

        "Guys, I know where she's going!" I yelled.

        "Then go!  I'll take care of the bus!" Ladybug yelled back before she pulled herself with her yoyo to go stop the oncoming vehicle.

        I left, leaving Chat to stand there like an idiot, trying to decide what he should do.

***

        As I neared my apartment building, I saw a bright flash from the kitchen where I had left my phone.  I ran faster, Wifi searching my kitchen for myself, well, Alexia.  She left the room and burst into Claire's seconds later, dragging the girl in glasses out and into the living room.

        I burst through the unlocked glass door of the balcony and into the room, Wifi shot a lock symbol towards me but I ducked and the symbol locked the doors instead.  It wasn't even seconds later before I saw the boy in the black cat suit banging on the doors out of the corner of my eye.

        I ignored him and focused all of my attention on Wifi who had Claire in a chokehold.

        "Give me your miraculous or your friend here gets disconnected," she said.  Claire was struggling to remove the arm suffocating her, her face slowly turning a pale blue.

        "You evil virus!" I screeched and lunged at Wifi, tackling her and in the process getting her to release Claire.  We rolled and she ended up on top of me, using her phone to lock both my legs and an arm.

        She reached for my miraculous, starting to pull it off but I grabbed her wrist with my free arm, keeping her from pulling it off right away.  However the damage was already done, and since it was partially off, I started to detransform.

        I could see parts of my suit start to vanish, revealing the colors of my civilian clothing, a red converse coming into view, an ear starting to disappear from the top of my head.  I couldn't see it but I was sure there were holes in my tail is started to fade, even the color at the end of my hair was turning back to brown.  But the worst part was that my mask was vanishing, left to right.

        I turned my head so I could keep my identity hidden for a little longer, however long that would be.  The line of blue light that rimmed the disappearing side of my mask kept coming closer and closer to my eye, finally taking away the covering around it.  It was then that I saw what was on my left side, Claire groaning as she sat up, Noir banging on the glass doors of the balcony.  The mask was completely gone from around my left eye, starting to crawl over the bridge of my nose.  My two friends stared shocked at me, recognizing me without half of the mask, I was Alexia.

        "Help me." I mouthed to them.

        Claire jumped up and lunged for Wifi, Chat using his Cataclysm on the doors.  When Claire pushed Wifi off me however, my miraculous got pulled away in the villain's hand and I was completely detransformed.  

        "Get out of here, we'll make sure she doesn't see you," Little Cat said to me as I quickly got to my feet and ran.  I tried the door to my room, locked, damn me and my stupid hero habits!  I ran into Claire's room instead, the door was still open, off of one hinge, from when Lady Wifi had slammed it open. 

        There wasn't a fire escape directly outside Claire's window, the one outside my window was a few feet away though.  I looked down, the ground was a good two stories away, if I fell, I had a nice long life right?  Ehhhmm, probably.  Pushing off with as much force as I could, I jumped, my hand just catching a bar from the fire escape.  I pulled myself up, heart beating fast.  Definitely not gonna try that again anytime soon.

        From where I stood I could see Ladybug flying over buildings with the aid of her yoyo, probably searching for Wifi and Chat.

        "Ladybug!" I shouted, waving my arms as if I was a bird trying desperately to fly, "Lady Wifi's over here!"  I only saw her coming towards me before I went back inside through my own window this time.  Unlocking the door and peeking down the hall, the bug hero probably had used the cataclysmed balcony doors because there she was.  Trying to snatch Wifi's phone as the villain wrestled with Noir and even Claire.

        "HOW DARE YOU?!" Claire was screaming, punching Wifi with all the force she had.

        "Easy tiger," Noir pulled Claire off the now unakumatized (I'm not sure what else to call it) Alya, Ladybug purifying the akuma. 

        She threw her Lucky Charm into the air, whatever that had been, "Miraculous Ladybug!"

        Everything was fixed and returned to normal, but unfortunately for me, my miraculous was not returned to me.  I looked down the hall again, it was still in Alya's hand.

        "Wha...  What happened?" the girl asked, she took her phone back from Ladybug.

        "You got turned back into Lady Wifi," she replied.

        Alya looked at the blues and the white of the bow laying in her palm, "This, this is Lunaden's miraculous.  How, why do I have it?"

        "You took it during the fight," Little Cat replied, "Lunaden had to run before you saw her."

        "Wait, it's unlikely you would know that unless...?" Ladybug turned to Chat.

        "I know her real identity, so does Claire," he gestured to the girl who was now standing next to him.

        Alya handed him the bow, "Make sure she gets it back, and tell her, I'm sorry."

        Chat took it, he was about to say something but his miraculous beeping cut him off.  

        I ducked into my room again as Noir left, hurrying over to my window, he was already there.  "So Lulu, this is the real you?" 

        I placed my hands on my hips, "What? Am I too awesome for you?"

        He smirked, tossing me my miraculous, "Well, I'd stay longer but I'm almost out of time.  See you around Lexi."

        "Wait..." I murmured, but Chat was already gone.  How did he know my name?  That my nickname was Lexi?

***

        "Alya, I'm sorry," I said as I stood in her doorway.  "I should never have said those things to you, because of me, you got akumatized."

        Alya's facial expression softened and she smiled at me, "It's okay Lexi, part of that was my fault too.  I didn't notice I was making you so angry."

        "No, it was my fault.  I just didn't want you to think I'm Lunaden, 'cause I'm no hero.  I'm, well, I like to call it a naughty angel, but I am definitely not a hero." I said.  I was surprised when Alya hugged me.

        "You are a hero Lexi, maybe not like Lunaden, but in your own way."

        "Thanks Alls."

***

        The apartment felt strangely empty, dad was still in Tennessee and mom was on a business trip, it was just me and Claire.

        I knocked on her door, "Come in," she answered, "...Lunaden."

        I laughed nervously, "So, earlier... you saw that?"

        "Yeah I saw it."

        "You're not disappointed are you? I mean, you kinda had a crush on her..." I was fiddling with my hands, visibly nervous.

        Claire had been sitting on her bed, reading a book (oh my gosh she's so retro!!!  XD) but she placed it down and stood up, walking over.  My face flushed a little as she placed her hands on my shoulders, then she hugged me and I could feel my face go scarlet.  Why was everyone hugging me today?

        "I'm glad it's you." she said.

        If my face could go redder it would have.  Claire laughed when she saw my face after pulling away, "What's with, all of that?" she gestured to my face that was glowing like a stop light.

        "Well its just, I have a crush on you.  And you well, have a crush on Lunaden.  Then there's what happened earlier..." I trailed off, unsure if I said what I said at a good time.  We just stared at each other, standing in an awkward silence, Claire's face flushed red a little.

        My jaw hit the floor when I felt something peck my cheek, Claire pulling away.  Her face went a little redder when she saw my reaction.

        "That's really sweet of you, and I do love you, kind of like that but mostly, you know, sisterly.  But it's probably for the best if we don't start dating." She admitted.

        I was confused about why, I wanted to ask her but the words weren't able to escape my lips.  Why couldn't I just ask her?  Why was it now that I decided to clam up?

        Claire noticed my confusion, "It's just, you're a superhero...  I'm just a plain, somewhat demented and disturbed civilian...  I don't think it could work out.  If someone finds out that I'm dating Lunaden, well, your identity could be discovered, I could be used as a ransom, people could get hurt...  Maybe someday I'll date you, but that's not now."

        I wasn't sure how I brought myself to nod before I left the room.  Did Claire just reject me?  Did I just get friendzoned?

        My mood was dark and after the few hours it had been after getting my miraculous back, Skai spoke to me.

        "Lexi please, cheer up!  You can't let yourself get akumatized!"

        That's just what today had to be about wasn't it?  Akuma this, akuma that.  Don't get akumatized!  However much I wanted to yell right now, Skai was right, I had to get myself under control.  I put earbuds in my ears and picked a random song on the playlist of my phone, ironically it was Princesses Don't Cry by Avia.  Closing the door, I sang along to the song.  (I do not own the lyrics!)

"Boys. They're handsome and strong But always the first to tell me I'm wrong Boys try to tame me, I know They tell me I'm weird and won't let it go No, I'm fine I'm lying on the floor again Cracked door I always wanna let you in Even after all of this shit I'm resilient Cause a princess doesn't cry (no) A princess doesn't cry (no-o) Over monsters in the night Don't waste our precious time On boys with pretty eyes A princess doesn't cry (no) A princess doesn't cry (no-o) Burning like a fire You feel it all inside But wipe your teary eyes Cause princesses don't cry Don't cry, don't cry Oh Don't cry, don't cry Oh Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, oh Cause princesses don't cry Girls so pretty and poised and soft to the touch But God made me rough Girls, so heavy the crown They carry it tall, but it's weighing me down No, I'm fine I'm lying on the floor again Cracked door You're only going to let them in once And you won't come undone Cause a princess doesn't cry (no) A princess doesn't cry (no-o) Over monsters in the night Don't waste our precious time On boys with pretty eyes A princess doesn't cry (no) A princess doesn't cry (no-o) Burning like a fire You feel it all inside But wipe your teary eyes Cause princesses don't cry Don't cry, don't cry Oh Don't cry, don't cry Oh Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry Oh Cause princesses don't cry I'm fine, I won't waste my time Keep it in a jar, and we'll leave it for the next one Yeah I'm fine, I won't waste my time Keep it in a jar, and we'll leave it for the next one Yeah I'm fine I'm lying on the floor again Cause a princess doesn't cry (no) A princess doesn't cry (no-o) Over monsters in the night Don't waste our precious time On boys with pretty eyes A princess doesn't cry (no) A princess doesn't cry (no-o) Burning like a fire You feel it all inside But wipe your teary eyes Cause princesses don't cry Don't cry, don't cry Oh Don't cry, don't cry Oh Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry Oh Cause princesses don't cry Don't cry, don't cry Oh Don't cry, don't cry Oh Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry Oh Cause princesses don't cry"

        As I finished singing, I wiped actual tears from my eyes.  The song had calmed me down but my head still felt foggy, maybe a patrol would clear my head.

        "Skai, Howl Time!" I transformed and leapt out my window to go patrol.

        Bad idea...

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.1

“Objects in Motion”

A/N: This little plot bunny has been following me for a few weeks so I had to pursue it. The story is set pre-Discovery. Owing to lack of information available at present, I’ve taken the liberty of naming Lorca’s previous ship the USS Triton. With the reveal of the Buran, the Triton is now Lorca’s first command, and he subsequently takes command of the Buran. (The reasons for this will eventually become apparent.)

Full Chapter List Audiobook Version 2 - Game Set Match >>

The banal nothingness of interstellar travel was anathema to Gabriel Lorca, because as fast as they were moving, he hated sitting still.

As the Triton hurtled through the cosmos towards its latest transport assignment, Lorca wandered the bridge and did everything he could to avoid sitting in the one seat most officers spent their careers hoping to attain: the captain's chair.

It wasn't that Lorca had any aversion to actual specifics of the chair, and certainly he had longed for it as much as anyone, but now that he had it, he found it irksome. It was comfortable enough, but Lorca hated sitting as a general rule, and so instead he paced the bridge with a padd in hand, wandering past the various command stations and idly glancing at console displays as he did.

Arzo, his science officer, referred to this behavior as "hovering." Lorca liked Arzo. The Tiburonian was abruptly honest and unflappable, a good foil for Lorca's aloof confidence. "You are making the crew nervous," Arzo had said during their first week together. "The constant hovering over shoulders... do you not trust the competency of the crew?"

"Have you ever thought how hard it is to sit in the captain's chair and do nothing but waggle your fingers for hours on end?" Lorca had replied. This was not, of course, an accurate summation of the role of captain, but it did describe how sitting the chair made Lorca feel.

Arzo had harrumphed and fixed Lorca with a look that suggested sitting still in a chair was not something Arzo found to be particularly difficult. Even now, three months after the conversation, recalling that look still made Lorca smile.

As usual, Lorca found himself up by the viewscreen, one of the few places he could stand on the bridge without making anyone feel like he was hovering over their shoulder. He read over crew requests as streaks of starlight tantalized the edges of his view. To think that each of those streaks had a story, and that he, as captain, might detour and discover any of those stories as he willed...

"Captain, I'm picking up a transmission." Kerrigan was the communications officer on duty, a decent but uninteresting man who liked to talk a lot but usually said very little. "Broadcasting on all bands, audio and visual. Unknown language."

"Origin?"

"A Dartaran ship," supplied Arzo. "Far edge of our sensor range. Small."

The Dartarans were a notoriously private species in the region who occupied an array of moons and planets in the cluster of systems they claimed for themselves. They were not averse to the Federation or anyone else, they just preferred not to be involved in outside affairs.

"Adjust course to intercept and put it onscreen."

The starry streaks disappeared and Lorca found himself standing directly in front of an enormous green eye as an endless stream of wet, lilting syllables assaulted his ears.

"‒ lalilalulhallilinnlalanalenilalalanelamelimanlalunilalemilanalalennilaminulalalaililana‒"

Lorca took a half-step back. The words, if they were that, belonged to an alien with soft grey skin, pale grayish blue fur, and a pair of almost perfectly round enormous green eyes the color of fresh spring grass with dark slits evenly spaced around. Standing in front of the screen as he was, Lorca could make out the flecks and strands of striations in the creature's giant irises and see the lights of the Dartaran ship's console reflected on the broad, glassy surface of its lenses. The alien's tongue fluttered like a small grey moth just inside its mouth. The neckline of some sort of fluffy white garment was visible.

"‒lemalunilalamelanalilianilililialemalal‒"

Whatever it was, it clearly wasn't Dartaran. "Translation?" said Lorca.

"Coming online now," promised Kerrigan.

"‒lalimilalilunilalamanilamili‒ me! Help me, please! Is there anyone there? Please, can anyone hear me? Help me! Hello, can someone please help me?"

The transition from nonsense sounds to abject desperation was abrupt enough that the helmsman just behind Lorca startled in her seat. The universal translator rendered the voice as high and gentle, almost childlike, and feminine in tone, but that didn't mean anything. The pleas continued without pause, an endless stream of begging directed at no one and anyone with very little variation in theme. "If there's someone out there, anyone, please, I need help. Please. Can anyone hear me? Please, help me, please..."

Between the clear distress, the unknown language, and the unfamiliar species, it was a veritable siren song for any Starfleet captain, and Lorca was not averse to its tune. "Arzo?"

"A personal transport vessel. I detect no structural issues. I am attempting to search for any matches to species in our database."

"How certain can we be of the translation?"

Kerrigan bristled. "Extremely. The base elements and structure of the language don't match anything on file so I had to initiate a new matrix from scratch, but the alien is alternating in matching phrases of Dartaran, Romulan, and even English. The vocabulary is limited, but accurate."

That any of those la-la-la syllables could have been an attempt at speaking English bordered on ludicrous, but both Kerrigan and the computer seemed to think it true. "Open a channel."

"--if there's anyone out there, please, I'm in need of--"

A beeping noise drew the alien's attention and it stopped speaking and looked around.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

"This is Captain Gabriel Lorca of the Federation starship‒"

The alien did not hear him. "Hello? Can you hear me? Is someone there? Hello? Hello?"

"Trying again, sir," said Kerrigan quickly, sounding vaguely sheepish. The beep on the other end sounded again. This time the alien started poking around the console and Lorca heard the connection cue.

"Dartaran ship, this is‒"

"I see you!" exclaimed the alien, visibly startling. "You're human! Can you see me?"

Lorca remained professionally nonplussed. "Yes we can. This is the USS Triton, responding to your distress call. Please identify yourself."

The alien brought its hands together and began moving them in a repeating circular motion, one over the other, like a fly cleaning its legs. "I'm Lalana!"

It wasn't an easy name. Three softly-voiced but wet syllables verging on two, lah-lah-nah turning almost into lullna, the tongue flicking concavely against the roof of the mouth yet remaining almost stationary. Lorca managed it passably well. "L... Lalana?"

"Yes! Yes, that's right!"

Whoever this alien was, it did not seem to have a firm grasp on proper intership protocol. "I'm Captain Lorca. Can you explain the nature of the problem you're having?"

"Yes, absolutely! I'm trying to escape." What the alien lacked in knowledge, it certainly made up for in enthusiasm.

"Captain! Another vessel coming into sensor range, also Dartaran."

Lalana's hands switched from the circular motion to a rapid knocking together of curled fingers. "That is them! Please, please, don't let them take me back. I beg of you, help me!"

There were too many unknown variables, but Lorca judged the alien's pleas to be sincere. "We're headed towards you already, there's no need for worry. Can you tell me who's chasing you?"

"Margeh and T'rond'n," said Lalana. "They are… hunters. They captured me."

"The pursuit vessel is broadcasting a message," said Kerrigan.

Lorca was forced to make a split-second decision. "Now, Lalana, don't worry. If you need help, we are more than happy to provide it. But I'm going to have to hear what the folk coming after you are saying, all right? Not that I don't believe you‒"

"Yes, of course!" interrupted Lalana, utterly devoid of pretext. "To you, I am hardly ilr. You must be careful." There it was at last: a word the translator couldn't parse. It was somehow reassuring to Lorca; it suggested this wasn't some form of perfectly-crafted, elaborate ruse. It could still be a ruse of course, but at least it wasn't a perfect one.

"Let's hear it," Lorca said to Kerrigan.

A recording of two Dartarans appeared on the Triton's viewscreen adjacent Lalana's feed. They were brown in color, with orange streaks along the ridges that lined their spiky jawlines.

"Federation starship!" boomed the smaller Dartaran. "We are in pursuit of stolen property. This is an internal Dartaran matter. No assistance is required. Repeat. Federation starship! We are in pursuit..."

Kerrigan looked at Lorca. "Do you want to respond, sir?"

Lorca didn't answer immediately and looked at Lalana. "I assume if we take you aboard the Triton, you have no objection to returning their ship?"

"No, no, but… the ship is not the property they wish for the return of. The property is me."

Lorca had studied up on the Dartarans prior to his posting to the Triton, along with all the other notable players in this region of space. While the Dartarans were not full Federation members, they had associate status and all signs pointed to them becoming members at some point in the future because there were no actual barriers to it. It was just that the Dartarans were slow, cautious, and scrupulous, and had chosen a very slow timeline to pursue.

Which indicated to Lorca that, whatever societal customs the Dartarans had, slavery was not among them. "I didn't think the Dartarans engaged in slavery."

"Oh, no, I am not a slave. I am a…" The universal translator seized up a moment and finally spat out, "pet."

Lorca's fingers tightened on the padd in his hand. It was one thing to answer a distress signal, quite another to wade into a situation of potential diplomatic delicacy.

There was a course required of any Starfleet officer interested in pursuing a command career: Intercultural Ethics. One of the lectures was inspired by an anecdote of Captain Jonathan Archer, Starfleet's first captain, about an off-hand comment made about his dog.

That off-hand comment led to a full two hours of the course devoted to the question of free will and pets. Dogs, while not possessing the same logical, reasoning, and communication abilities as humans, were nevertheless intelligent creatures who had thoughts and feelings and could understand basic commands and communicate their own needs and wants. Yet if a dog ran away, the expectation would be for it to be returned to its owner, regardless of whether the dog wanted to return or not.

What about other primates, and the more intelligent birds? Though protected now, they had long been subjects of abuse and research, often against their will and with little regard for their well-being, and many were also kept as pets. Given their intelligence, did that constitute enslavement? A monkey might learn to operate tools or utilize nonverbal language. Where then was the line as to what level of intelligence might be considered a pet and what should be considered an independent being with a right to self-determination?

What were Dartarans in pursuit of a wayward pet going to feel? Would they see the pet as having a right to choose? Or would they, like the average dog owner, demand the return of the animal, even if it was smart enough to steal a spaceship and hold a conversation? And even if their pet seemed to be a wholly intelligent being, was it right to enforce the ethics of one culture onto another? As humans still kept pets, were they in a position to judge, and did that open them up to be judged as oppressors by another species?

Any of these points might have gone through Lorca's head, but he was only momentarily reminded of the lecture and briefly wondered how badly this might impact Dartaran/Federation diplomacy before deciding it probably wasn't important because of one tiny detail.

Lalana had said they were hunters.

Lorca crossed over to Arzo's station with two long steps. "Show me both ships. Distances, speed, weapons. All of it."

Arzo's display lit up with information from across the bridge: weapons analysis from the security station, course and speed from navigation, plus Arzo's ongoing scans of both vessels looking for anything of note, most recently checking for signs of explosives or spatial anomalies.

They were identical ships, a matched pair of personal transports traveling at almost the exact same speed, except the pursuer was going very slightly faster and would eventually overtake its target in several hours if they continued as they were. If the lead ship stopped, though, it would be caught in a mere seven and a half minutes.

Both ships had shields, but neither had their shields engaged. The Dartarans seemed to have rerouted their shield power to their engines, accounting for the boost in speed, but even so, they were managing only a smidgen above warp three. Weapons consisted of a pair of cutting lasers -- designed for asteroids and good at short range, but incapable of doing anything more than tapping on the Triton's shields.

"All right, let's give this a go, then. Lalana, I'm going to ask you to trust me. Can you do that?"

Lalana's head bobbed. "It is within my power to do so. As for whether I will... Yes, I will trust you!"

"Isolate and hail the Dartaran ship. Dartaran vessel, this is Captain Lorca of the Federation starship Triton. We have reached an agreement with the thief of your vessel to return the ship to you, with the one single caveat that the thief requests to be taken into our custody." He said this with great gusto, as if announcing the Dartarans had won a prize.

The Dartaran recording was replaced by a live picture. The larger Dartaran bristled, but it was the smaller who spoke. "Federation captain! This is a Dartaran concern, we have no need for you. The crime was committed in Dartaran space and must be dealt with by Dartaran justice."

"Be that as it may," said Lorca, "the thief has promised to set your vessel to self-destruct unless this one condition is met. So in the interests of you not losing what looks to be a very fine and expensive vessel, why not let us take the lead on this? The Federation would consider it a great token of our esteem for your people if we can get you your ship back, and then we can talk to your Council about having the thief returned to Dartar so you can also get that Dartaran justice you're after."

The Dartarans exchanged a look. The larger spoke in a low, deep voice. "Thank you for your offer, but no."

Lorca had been hoping the Dartarans would fold, but apparently they were going to double-down instead. Fair enough. He crossed his arms and fixed the Dartarans with his most recalcitrant glare. "So you're telling me you'd rather have your ship destroyed than get it back?"

He gave the Dartarans a moment to chew on that. They didn't answer, which was as telling as anything they might have said in reply. Lorca unfolded one of his hands as if making an offer and waved it faintly about to subtly illustrate his points, of which there were three. "Perhaps I'm not making myself clear. I'm not asking what you want to do about your stolen vessel, I'm telling you what's going to happen, and if you have a problem with that, then you can bring it up with the Dartaran Council and have them petition the Federation on your behalf." He ended with his hand closed in a pensive fist.

The Dartarans hissed and growled and terminated communications. Lorca snorted. "Is our channel with Lalana secure?"

"Yes, sir."

Lalana's audio resumed mid-sentence. "‒but as much as I am grateful for the assistance and as enjoyable as that was, I do not wish to blow myself up, else what was the point of me escaping in the first‒"

"It won't come to that," promised Lorca. "You just hang tight, and everything will be just fine."

"Captain," said Arzo in a sharp tone indicating he had something important.

"Hm," Lalana continued as Lorca moved back to the science station to take a look, "you did request for me to trust you, and I suppose given the circumstance it is only fair for me to allow the opportunity to..."

"Well that can't be right," said Lorca, looking back up at the viewscreen. "How can it?"

"Nevertheless, sir, I am quite certain. Our sensors read no life signs aboard that ship." They looked at Lalana.

"Oh!" exclaimed Lalana. "Oh, no, they wouldn't. You see, my species, we... we do not show up on scanners. That is why it is such an accomplishment to hunt us. If it were easy, our skulls would not be such a spectacular trophy. If is my understanding that we emit an electromagnetic radiation field indistinguishable from the background noise of the universe. We look like nothing on technology devices. As the hunters say, optical and sonar only."

Lorca stared. "Did you say skulls?"

"Oh, yes. We are not usually taken alive." Lalana sounded entirely nonplussed about it, as if this statement were something so obvious and self-evident it was the same as saying the stars were shining and space was big and full of them.

Lorca leaned over the science console, gripping it tightly. It looked like a movement of calculated intensity, but in truth he did it to steady himself so his crew wouldn't notice how shocked he was. Not that they would have. The entire bridge seemed to be frozen. The helmsman's mouth was hanging open, and over at the communications panel, Kerrigan was blinking in disbelief. "Are you telling me Dartarans hunt you for your skulls?" asked Lorca in a measured voice.

"Not just Dartarans. I was taken by Dartarans, but any hunter who relishes a challenge might go to Luluan. Gorn, Tremi, human... There is no one species that hunts us. Any do."

Human. The word echoed in Lorca's head. In this day and age, to think that there were humans who would knowingly fire upon a sentient species in the name of sport... Of course, Lorca knew as well as anyone that humans were as fickle, diverse, and morally variable as any other species, but it was still a rather uncomfortable feeling to know that the person you were talking to might view your species as so utterly bereft of decency based on firsthand experience.

"Captain?" said Lalana, and Lorca realized the bridge crew were looking to him for some sort of sign.

It took him a moment to find the words. All the jovial amicability and lightheartedness present when he had been toying with the Dartarans was gone from his voice. "Lalana." Lorca swallowed and took a deep breath. "Would you be able to tell us where Luluan is?"

"I do not think so." Lalana looked downward and away. "I do not know how to get there. I do not even know how to fly this ship. I... just wanted to escape."

Lorca took another deep breath and exhaled it slowly, centering himself. "All right. Let's just get you off that ship and we'll go from there."

Since they could not pick up Lalana on their sensors ‒ and it was unclear if the transporters could even properly register a pattern given the unknowable biological variables of a living creature that appeared as background radiation ‒ they could not beam Lalana directly over to the Triton. To further complicate things, they would have only seven minutes once Lalana stopped before the Dartarans caught up and potentially interfered with any operations underway, and Lalana had no real navigational control over the vessel beyond making it start and stop.

The easiest solution was to have a pilot beam over and take control of Lalana's vessel, but Lorca rejected the idea outright. "They can detect a transporter," he drawled, "and that opens us up to accusations of piracy, with evidence to back it up. No, we're gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way, with a docking procedure. Carver?"

Lt. Carver, the helmsman, pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Maneuvering the Triton into position relative such a small vessel will be tricky given our mass and power, but it can be done."

"How fast?"

"Six minutes, maybe."

"I need it done in two. Chief, you said the ship would fit in our shuttle bay?"

The chief engineer, Billingsley, grunted in assent. What she had said was the transport was roughly twice as big as a shuttle, which wasn't even close to saying the same thing from an engineer's point of view. It just happened to be technically correct in this instance. "It's a tight fit. Not impossible, but I wouldn't want to force it in two minutes and damage the bay."

"What if we could give you, say, four minutes? That enough for the kind of precision to make you comfortable?" There was a mild sense of confusion. Why would the chief have four minutes to tractor the ship to the shuttle bay when Carver had been allotted only two?

"Captain?"

Lorca grinned with self-satisfaction. His crew didn't share his smug confidence, but Arzo at least could tell the captain had what was probably a brilliant but needlessly showy and over-complicated plan. In the three months since Lorca had taken command, Arzo had learned that most of Lorca’s plans could be described this way.

Lorca glanced around the room conspiratorially. "Now, docking one ship to another, that's no piece of cake, we'd need at least one of the ships to be stationary. But what if neither ship were stationary?"

"You mean running the tractor beam at speed?" said Billingsley with a mixture of dread and excitement.

"Exactly!" Lorca held up the padd in one hand and plucked the insignia from his uniform with the other. "We match our speed and course ‒ we can do that easily enough ‒ and use the tractor beam to pull the transport in nice and tight towards the shuttle bay." He moved the insignia close to the padd. "Then we decelerate slowly as the transport does."

"Minimizing strain on the tractor," Billingsley observed.

"By the time we're at a dead stop, the ship's pitching distance from the shuttle bay. Won't take more than fifteen seconds to finish bringing it in. Now, the Dartarans--" Lorca put down the insignia and grabbed Arzo's arm, signaling him to make a fist. Arzo begrudgingly complied. Lorca slowly moved the padd towards Arzo's hand. "They've closed the distance as we've decelerated, but we've bought ourselves another sixty, maybe seventy-five seconds to do what needs doing before they arrive."

"That is a hell of a lot of effort and risk for an extra sixty seconds," said the chief engineer, wondering what would possibly make it worthwhile.

Arzo lowered his arm. "Dare I ask what it is you want us to do with this extra time, Captain?"

Lorca smiled. "A lot can happen in sixty seconds."

Part 2