#anyway THIS WOULD BE SO FUCKING COOL IF IT IS

[titconao3]

You also have some plasters reproducing innards, actual innards floating in formaldehyde, very tiny bits of very tiny animals, very big bits of very big animals, the occasional artist/student drawing bones, and then a floor above this one full of Ancient Beasties from Charnia to Irish Elk and so many, many more, and another gallery running along the sides on the second (third for the Americans) floor.

AND THE WHALES ARE FUCKING BIG YES

All floors are great pics opportunities, the shop is decent enough (not on par with the one in the Muséum d'Histoire Naturelle on the other side of the Jardin but there's some cool stuff), and the building is gorgeous. Not air-conditioned like a super modern refit would allow, but it's got Such Charm (including some handwritten labels that are probably from the 19th century. Awww) i would be sad to see it turned into a very modern thing.

Though the Muséum d'Histoire Naturelle is air conditioned and its refit a couple of decades ago was a success! (There are fucking big whales too ;-)

The four Serres Botaniques (yes, four; when you leave the third, you're not done!) and the Mineralogy Gallery (GIANT QUARTZ NO I MEAN GIANT) are well worth it, on that same site. And there's a Ménagerie! One of the very oldest in the world (created during the Revolution years).

[If you're into ROCKS you might also enjoy the museum in the Ecole des Mines, which has charming old skool wooden tables and presentation furniture. It... rocks. Ahem.

And if you enjoy animals, i'd also recommend the Musée Vétérinaire de Maisons-Alfort as well. Putting the French link here, because the English one only focuses on a small part of that museum, and leaves aside the major part of it which is about, you guessed it, veterinary science and its history. Yes, yes, and the human bodies there at the back. Ethical warning! But the docent who was there when i visited was great and we chatted about ethics for a while, so it's not like no one is aware of this stuff, i promise.]

Anyway yes they're great (there are also other museums, a big zoo, arboretums, etc that are part of this institution) and, yeah. The whales are big.

Oh!

And every year, they do this with a different theme each winter:

And yes, there was also Opabinia, Hallucinogenia, Dunkleosaurus, and many more :D

And everybody got ate by the Big Teef!

Whales! I know this is kicking in an open door but folks, they are really fucking big

[astronomical-bagel]

The brainworms… they got me…

[olderthannetfic]

An asshole coworker of mine vapes and he blows the smoke right onto others' faces. For what, I don't know. The way I see it, he's showing off that he's cool, he's the only one in our team who smokes, he's the alpha male, he blows the smoke to people who brings up points that he don't like/resonates with him, whatever. Yes, it looks cool in fiction. I would totally fuck that character who smokes 40 cigs a day. No, I would rather be 100 steps away from a real person who smoke. Smoking is bad for your health. Yes, you are free to smoke if you want to, I'm not gonna stop you. Doesn't change the fact that it's unhealthy. If you do it anyways, you already KNOW that it is unhealthy, and you are free to take the risk. But I don't want that risk. If you do it in places where smoking is prohibited then you shouldn't be mad when I call you out. If you do it in places where it is NOT prohibited then you shouldn't blame me for distancing myself from you. Denying this is denying other people the right to health. Do what you want, sure, but don't blame me when I do what I want and prioritize my health.

Wait, I was trying to say that I hate that vaping has caused smoking in public to be SO normalized that these assholes are smoking anywhere they like. Just because it doesn't have ash residues doesn't mean it's safe to do everywhere now. Just because it doesn't smell like burned ash doesn't mean anyone is now suddenly okay with it. If I get lung cancer (I hope I won't, but I have the genes), I wish I could sue this guy.

--

Many locations are banning vaping, AS THEY SHOULD.

I didn't live through the 80s to have this level of smoking literally in front of my salad come back.

(Curse you, restaurants with smoking and nonsmoking sections with only a little half wall divider.)

[gay-dorito-dust]

How about batboys reacting to seeing their lover’s nip piercings through their shirt? like that’s the first time they’ve seen them? (i’m getting mine done soon i’m hyped)

Nipple piercings are so fucking cool dude! Funny enough I have a friend who’s got their nips pierced, all I know it’s a sensitive spot to get pierced but they look really cool. Also I now got snakebites…eating will be a little different but I’ll be okay.

Dick is fighting for his life, gnawing at the bars of his enclosure the moment he got a little peak of your nipple piercings.

He’s trying not to groan aloud at all because nipple piercings are his weakness and of course you have to go get them and turn him with them. They look beautiful, stunning, gorgeous on you even that he can’t help but take sneak peaks now and then at your tits, hoping to catch a glimpse of the metal piercing through your shirt.

He loves your piercings, they’re his favourite things to look at in all honesty and he’ll look at them all day if he could.

‘Looking good babe!’ He’d say upon first seeing them and you couldn’t help but smile, knowing damn well that the moment you got them done that Dick would be all over you like a rash.

‘Thank you sweetie, nice to know you noticed I got them done in the first place.’ You said with a chuckle as you gestured towards your chest and feeling his eyes there immediately it was humorous.

‘I notice everything babe and I must say they’re looking gorgeous.’ Dick replied as he gazes at the metal bars through your shirt with adoration, fascination and a little bit of lust. ‘Need me to give them some aftercare?’ He adds wiggling his eyebrows playfully as you laugh. ‘As much as I would love that but these puppies are fresh and I’ve been given strict rules to follow if I want them to heal correctly.’ You tell him and see his shoulders defeat and a pout crosses his lips, he was so dramatic that even your own nipple piercings weren’t safe.

‘Fine, I’ll wait until they get better and then I’ll give them some tender loving care of my own.’ Dick promises and you didn’t doubt that for a single second, after all nipple piercings were a little weakness of his.

Tim is looking away immediately, he didn’t mean to look at all and felt as though he’s overstepping some boundaries by looking and that’s not what he wants to do.

He’ll twiddle his thumbs or play with his phone so that he doesn’t accidentally look directly at your nipple piercings through your shirt and you catch him doing so by pure coincidence. Tim seriously think he might faint if he saw pierced nipples as it was an sensitive part of your body as well as an intimate area to have done, though that doesn’t mean he won’t compliment your piercing sheepishly.

‘They look wonderful honey.’ He’d say with a flustered expression, the imagine of your pierced nipples now engraved in that photographic mind of his, which was a blessing and a curse. Poor boy just wanted to say you have nice piercings without coming across as weird or creepy for staring there at the first place, regardless of whether he was your partner or not.

‘You can look Tim, I really don’t mind.’ You tell him as you watch him internally struggle with himself and decided to end the conflict for him instead, not wanting to see him so worried like he was right now as he gripped his phone so tight you fear he’d break it.

Tim peaks at the corner of his eye to look at your piercings through your shit and he swallows thickly, a piercing shouldn’t have this much affect over him but here he was finding a simple piercing pretty and enticing. It suited you that was for certain and Tim couldn’t help but admire the way they looked beneath your shirt, it was almost like a little tease of what was there and it would be enough to send anyone mad with want.

However Tim only looked at them and admired your ability to go through with it and getting them pierced, even despite the knowledge that they’ll hurt you went through with it anyway and came out with something, ‘beautiful, they look beautiful.’

Jason may look like he’ll stare at your nipple piercings but is actually trying his hardest to not looks at them unless you want him to.

‘Jason! I got my nipples pierced! Look!’ You’d exclaim, lifting your shirt to show him the metal bars that pierced through your now erect nipples with shining pride.

‘You look gorgeous sweetheart.’ Jason would say truthfully as he gazed upon your piercings, before his mind wondered to the pain you endured to get them pierced, seeing as how nipples were notorious sensitive and piercing them only seemed to make Jason wince internally. ‘But that must’ve killed to get done chipmunk.’ He adds and you only smiled as you dropped your shirt, making sure it didn’t catch your piercings and shrug.

‘I mean yeah it did but they look came out looking fantastic don’t you think jay bird?’ You asked as you gestured towards your piercings. Jason swallowed thickly as he was quick to agree with your statement, not wanting to show just how affected he was by your pretty piercings. ‘There’s no doubt about that sweetheart, none at all.’ He says as you walked over and held his face, fingers trailing towards his pulse point that was beating faster than usual, and giggling softly.

‘It’s okay for you to look, look all you want I really don’t mind because at least someone other than myself is going to admire them and who better than my handsome partner.’ You teased as you kissed his lip before pulling away.

‘Sweetheart you’re going to kill me one of these days.’ Jason groaned as he pulled you in close while being careful with your piercings, having read somewhere that torso related piercings can take up to six moths recovering, with nipple related piercings needing a maximum of a month in fresh nursing pads. He just wants your piercings to heal without any problems or worries and so he’ll put aside his desire to get closely acquainted with them.

You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘But you love me for it.’

[cosmic-expressions]

❝ MARIGOLDS ♡꒱

ೀ ⋮๋࣭⭑ i'll support you forever

dan heng x fem!reader, fluffy smut; cowgirl, some light marking, overstimulation; yall needy for each other, it's messy, chaotic but it'll make sense after I drop part2 words: 443 (man.) a/n: hi hello! this is part1 of a smol thing I thought would be cool to write but anyway enjoy <333 reblogs, feedback, etc is always appreciated!!! love ya <333

the slapping sounds have been going on for hours now and you’re sure the whole crew is hearing how good DAN HENG is doing you. do you care, though? absolutely not.

moaning desperately, you hold on to him, arms over his shoulders as you pull him in for messy kisses. it seems you can’t get enough of him (and that’s true), so desperate and needy for him and his touch. aeons, how much you missed being in his arms.

“d-darling! oh- darling, i-!” DAN HENG can’t speak clearly, words slurred together as he too, is getting lost in the pleasure. with his lips on yours, DAN HENG is swallowing every moan and whine of yours, groaning between the messy kisses instead.

you ride him like there’s no tomorrow; bouncing on his still rock-hard cock, you can’t get enough of the delicious stretch and how good he’s filling you. with eyes rolled back, you move rapidly and chaotically, doing anything to just feel him and feel good.

“DAN HENG- DAN HENG, fuck-! nnngh-!” all you can cry out is his name paired with curses and sweet, sweet whines of pleasure. “fuck! DAN HENG! dan- DAN HENG!”

kissing his neck urgently, you leave a trail of gentle nips all the way from his jaw to his shoulder. it’s clear you’re getting tired and it’s not surprising; you’ve been riding him like that for a long time now.

“i got you, baby- i got you,” DAN HENG mutters into your ear and kisses your temple, his big hands holding your hips tight. with his aid, you’re able to go on again, crying out his name in wild pleasure that’s taking over you.

DAN HENG has never seen you so desperate, needy, and almost feral, but he’s not really… surprised; he himself has been missing your touch, your pussy, and the way it envelops him tightly each time… that mission was too long for both of your likings. but now that you two have each other’s back in your arms, life is worth living again.

with his hands guiding your hips, he wastes no time and takes your nipple in his mouth, sucking gently on it, kissing the hardening bud, and twirling his tongue around it.

you’re screaming, crying in pleasure, so overstimulated, and yet… you’re hungry for more. holding his head against your chest, you encourage him further to suck and take care of your nipples, all while your pussy clamps down on DAN HENG’s cock just right. your juices paired with his cum make it easier for him to slide in and out, stretching you right and hitting all the right spots nestled deep inside...

[PART2] (tba)

[M-MLIST] [HSR-MLIST] [KO-FI]

[gothamite-rambler]

Bruce is beekeeping age, but Artemis would still smash

I respect and agree.

Artemis (Amazon): Jason, your dad is at “beekeeping age.” You know what that means?

Jason refused to respond; he already knew where this conversation was headed. But Artemis took his silence as an invitation to elaborate on the slang term.

Artemis: It means he’s an attractive, middle-aged man—usually in his 40s or 50s. You know, the kind of guy who would keep bees and make his own honey.

Jason (monotone): That’s not something he does.

Artemis (undeterred): He doesn’t have to do that exactly. It’s just cute how he’s the cape crusader at night, but at home, he’s such an emo dork—like a businessman and a cool dad.

Jason pretended to examine his soda can, regretting that he had said anything at all. He wondered how the conversation had even started.

Artemis: He’s kind of cute—tough, tall, and handsome. How old is your dad?

Jason brought his hands together, trying to block out the thoughts swirling in his head.

Artemis: He’s definitely at "beekeeping age." Some Amazons even call him a DILF.

Jason (whispering to himself): I wonder if I killed myself and got thrown in the pit, would I forget this?

Artemis (looking longingly): He reads books, he’s always there for you guys. He protects you like he protects Gotham. I never had a dad, but my mom wasn’t even there for me like that.

Jason refused to respond, taking a long drink from his soda can instead.

Artemis (wistfully): The crazy thing is, none of my former partners—besides you, of course—have made my heart flutter like Bruce and guys like him do. I know you two aren’t close, but a strong man who loves you, supports you, and is conventionally attractive…

Jason examined his gun, debating what Artemis would say next while struggling to keep his boiling annoyance at bay.

Artemis (twiddling her fingers, lost in thought): Jason, I think I want to fuck your dad.

Jason (angry): No, really? I couldn’t tell!

---------------------------------------------

Later that day, Jason made a surprise visit to Bruce to discuss the earlier conversation. If he was going to live with that moment replaying in his head, the man connected to it would have to hear about it too.

Bruce: She said I was “beekeeping age?”

Jason (staring at his feet): Yes. And before you ask, it’s a term for an ‘attractive’ middle-aged man, usually in his 40s or 50s.

Bruce: How did she know I was in my 40s?

Jason: Oh my God, that's what you focus on?!

Bruce (alarmed): Sorry, sorry! I’m just thrown off by the fact that she said it—she’s your age, and that felt wrong to hear.

Jason: Yeah, she called you a DILF too.

Bruce: What’s a DILF?

Jason covered his eyes, cringing at the word.

Jason: Look it up. Because if I say the full acronym, I might shoot you in your kneecaps!

Bruce shrugged, then pulled out his phone to search for the definition. After reading it, he buried his head in his hands, exhausted by the world.

Bruce: I’m so tired of this. Why can’t people just see me as fairly attractive and move on?

Jason: Thank God we’re on the same page about this.

Bruce: Yep, yep, yep. I already had to get Selina to stop calling me "Daddy."

Jason nearly vomited at the thought of that word connected to his foster dad.

Jason: Yep, this is going to be a full session in therapy next week. Anyway, avoid her forever, or I'm going to lose my mind.

Bruce: I promise, I’m not going to do anything with her. That may have sounded wrong, but I wouldn’t because it's all kinds of messed up. I’m with Selina—she's my partner. Even if I were single—

Jason shot Bruce a glare, clutching a letter opener. Bruce nodded, cutting himself off before he could say anything that would make Jason want to stab him.

Bruce (ashamed): Have I paid you this month? I have not! Let me get my phone; I’ll be right back!

Bruce hurried out of the office, leaving Jason to collect his bearings. He pondered whether he deserved an extra paycheck after just getting paid last week, then shrugged.

Jason: Works for me.

[thumperdaetime]

the music is punk because it challenges the norm. the clothing is punk because it challenges the norm. the politics are punk because they challenge the norm. it's not a sound, or a look, or a book, or a slogan. it's a way of thinking that puts radical acceptance and relentless pursuit of joy, face to face with a world that wants you dead. you can't put a price on it. the disabled woman that says "fuck it people know I can't hold my blatter anyway. I don't care if they can tell I'm wearing the rehab-provided brief. Get me my bright lipstick I'm going to bingo!" is flexing the same muscles as the suburban white boy who steals eyeliner from his conservative mother. they are both people using identity, to create joy and signal comradery in lonely times, reputation be damned.

not to mention, all of the clothes I have been able to afford new when I was in my poorest moments were shit quality anyway. anything you can do to extend the lifespan of a physical object that was made under the modern fast fashion system past "thrown out, unsold at the store" is a win. in the same way that any pressure you can keep against an actively bleeding wound is a win. cloths are a common class of tools we use to help regulate our comfort, with that is with the temperature or our cave-mates. if the clothes make you feel uncomfortable they are already useless. it is already trash. why not try anything to see if it works? there are intelligent capable people across the centuries who died dreaming of what to do with once gorgeous expensive trendy fabric, that will now look dated and trashy outside of "the spring of '32 when i fell in love with jazz." or whatever the kids are into these days. the stupid walmart blazer you took a chance on 2 years ago but now feel "too X to wear" is no different. either you trash it now, or live with that trash in your home until your kids do it for you, while crying about how they always thought you looked good in that color. you might as well see if there's enough fabric to re-make that halter top you loved in college. when it looks homemade you get to boast and explain all about how you're trying to make shit better in little ways. and who cares if it fails? Aren't you deserving of a little petty violence? when the last time you really didn't give a shit about seam Ripping and just went to town? don't you want to be able to yell at something with no moral consequences? so much in this world is complicated and nuanced and requires forethought and responsibility. Wouldn't it feel nice to have a hobby that lets you get reasonably angry at evil fabric for not doing the thing, and then you can just throw it and swear, and then never have to think about it again. because it doesn't matter. it was already cheep plastic made to feed a system that would rather watch the world burn than lose a shareholder. you eat credit cards a year. you can not hurt wasted disposable plastic more than it will hurt you.

and then if it works you have a cute top to wear around places to show you are the kind of person who has cool tops! and help you ease people into the idea that a political movements starts with people deciding what things they inherited they actually want to keep around. and then maybe one day you cut apart and re-make out of nice quality fabric, with the mistakes you learned from the first one. so you can weaponize your ability to present yourself as ""respectable"" when you have to play the politics game in big official ways.

or (imagine this) you can even use your new knowledge of what types of edits you often make to clothing to buy a quality garment that will be more worth investing in. Ones that are made in ways that add value to their communities will feel good on your body from day one, and you can be mened and adapt in ways that may let it outlive you.

or maybe you elevate that shity, guilt ridden- shirt out of the gym lost and found on the last day of freshman year, because "fuck it- I liked that middle-school library fit. and Its a size too small but I'm bound to get thinner eventually. and I don't think its actually stealing if no one else wants it." Maybe if you make it into a statement piece scrap in your favorite "look I'm not happy about it either!" outfit, to show that you want to fuck with the systems in a "hey we should still have A Library tho right?" sort of way. you might run into the middle school girl who gets to break the ice with a fellow "cool garment person" friend. and she gets to laugh about your shirt deadnaming her. and you get to apologize and offer to let her sign something over it. and now you are advertising the formative art of a local queer-punk-artisan who you know is also out there trying her best to make the shitty stuff a little less shitty when they can, even if it means learning how to thread a sewing machine.... eventually.... hopefully.

also, as a person who has spent about a decade trying to figure out ways to keep kids of all ages informed and prepared and enriched on a budget. "Tug of War turned tie-dye Party" would of been a smash hit, my queer and rural in the 90's type parents would have loved it. after growing up with Halloweens filled with pieced-together costumes that made room for sensory issues and accessibility aids. and family "vacations" taken on public land with what's left of the food stamps. i think there is definitely a market for how to teach your children the fundamentals of serving in a world that might find their misery profitable. without like... terrafing them.

imagine how much easier alot of it would have been if someone early in your life had sat you down and said "ok. a lot of times things are going to be bad and unfair and evil. and there's going to be complicated reasons you cant do much about it but feel bad. but if you feel bad all the time it will only get worse. so what you can do is take what is around you, figure out what it is and how it works and why it's there, and then break it in ways that are meaningful and delibrite. and re-shape it to help the actual people who are trying survive."

then they showed you and all of your little friends how to research, what fabric is and understand why you bought supplies, and then get their hands dirty testing how strong it is, and why jeans have rivets even when you want to sew right there. and re-asure them that it's ok you paved the way to make sure they can't hurt anything too bad even if they are really really bad at it. and then let them find joy and pride in making something unique and custom with their own tools for the cost of cleaning out a closet, and some rite dye.

and then the community has a couple new little baby punks making decent folks smile with little bold fashion statements, and turning heads when they experiment with which parts of society they want to bring into the new age. tl;dr: I think we need to start telling the “I’m too poor to dress punk” crowd that they’re posers. -polyamorouspunk, November 2024, tumbr.com

I think we need to start telling the “I’m too poor to dress punk” crowd that they’re posers.

[theitgirlnetwork]

What Are You Willing To Do?

Ch. 2: Date 1 Pt. 1

Note: Thank you so much for the love you all have been showing this story so far! Thank you for reading, and for the kinds messages I have received thus far! I love interacting and seeing your thoughts and comments so keep 'em coming. I want to take this time to remind you that these characters will be flawed. Rafe is....Rafe, but we love him anyway. And Milan is...someone who is compatible with Rafe. They won't always be the depiction of a healthy relationship, but this is fiction and fun. This chapter isn't too bad, but those who have read the snippet know how it's gonna get. Once again, I have songs for this ship so if anyone is interested in them let me know, and feel free to share some with me if you catch a vibe. Finally, let me know if you have any questions or comments. Other than that, I hope you enjoy. This one is a lot shorter than chapter 1, but it is a 2 parter, so don't hate me. Love ya! <3333

“Wait.”

Rafe pauses, loosening his grip on Milan’s hair and pulling back slightly, irritated that she’d stopped him just as their lips brushed and she breathed the smoke he’d just poured into her mouth between them. “What? What’s up?”

“I don’t,” She sighs, her cool breath on his face, eyes still shut as if she’s forcing herself to pause this moment between them. “I don’t just hook up with guys, you know? Maybe we could…I dunno.”

Oh. Oh. Rafe understands. He’d…he’d forgotten himself for a moment. This isn’t some touron stumbling onto the couch next to him, throwing herself at him. She wasn’t one of those gold digging bitches that tries to fuck  him with faulty condoms in the bottom of her purse. She’s the kind of girl who has her own shit. She doesn’t need him for a come up. Or at least she doesn’t think she does. 

He arrogantly thinks to himself that Milan hasn’t met a man like Rafe Cameron. He’s spent most of his life preparing, becoming the type of man that can run his family, keep them safe and comfortable. The type of son fathers are proud to have and the type of man women want to give a baby. That’s the man who he’s made himself be. 

Rafe had been so focused, only allotting himself time for a little bit of fun once in a while, he’d forgotten that one day he might stumble across a girl that had the potential to be a woman. His woman. 

He nods slowly, a small smile forming on his face as he pulls back more, releasing her head completely and smoothing his hand back onto her knee. “Nah, I get it. We should get to know each other a little better. How ‘bout you spend the day with me tomorrow?”

Milan perches herself up at that, back straightening even more as her face lights up. “Really? You wanna spend the day with me?”

Rafe rests his head back on the top of the couch, sweeping his thumb on her bottom lip before biting his own and nodding. “Yeah, I wanna show you a good time. Get you a little more comfortable with me so I can kiss those pretty lips of yours.”

Both sets.

“Okay, wait, I’m excited. You’re gonna be my first friend here.”

“Friend?” Rafe scoffs. “‘M’not gonna be your friend, Princess.”

“Well,” Milan shrugs, “Like, I don’t know what I could call you, you’re not my man-”

“Yet. Not your man yet.” He and the woman next to him share twin smiles and Rafe only becomes more invigorated by Milan’s eyeroll and shy grin. “Roll your eyes if you want to, I’m a determined guy.” 

“Determined?”

“Yeah, like I know what I like, I work for what I want, so-”

“So what?” Milan giggles, “You…you want me? I should get ready or something?”

“Yeah.” Rafe says flippantly, as if he wasn’t essentially making a threat of courtship to a girl he’d just met like 12 hours before. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d fully wanted from her yet. But the need to have her was nagging at him. Maybe it was lust. She was hot, forbidden fruit for him. He could hear the curses Ward would spit at him now if he fucked around and ruined things with this girl, made an enemy of her dad. Maybe it was how sweet she seems. He’s always liked shiny, new things. When he was a kid, he had to have stuff before his friends did. Toys. Shoes. Stocks. Maybe he’s graduated to feeling that way about women. 

Something about how he doesn’t want to look away. Something about the way she was smiling at him, how he’s talked to her the most, how in a room full of guys drooling over her, those big pretty eyes were locked on him. Rafe felt like he had to look into this weird feeling she’s been stirring in his chest since he’d seen her. 

It’s what’s best for Milan anyway. None of the rest of these limp dick motherfuckers should have her. They’re not real men. Not like Rafe.

Milan hums as she removes the golden under eye patches from under her eyes, massaging in the serum they leave atop of her skin. Grimacing at a gust of damp wind from outside she pads against the marble floor of her bathroom and pushes the double doors leading to the patio attached closed. “Stupid, island humidity.” She pouts as she combs through her bob again, praying for no puffiness today.

The sky fights to brighten in the early morning. It’s 5:00 a.m. and Rafe Cameron was going to be picking her up in 30 minutes. 

After the party last night Sarah had run over to her on the front lawn, hugging her tightly before declaring she was going home with John B. and offering for Milan to come with them. When she declines with a smile, the blonde fixes her brother with a glare, to which he’d returned with a middle finger, and stumbled off in her man’s arms. 

Rafe drove Milan back to her house and parked them out front, eyes carefully rotating between staring at Milan sitting pretty in his passenger seat, and watching for a sign of her father at the door. He let her toy with his fingers as she fluttered her lashes at him and he described what he does throughout the day, Or, rather, what they’d be doing today.

When he’d mentioned picking her up after the gym Milan had jumped at the opportunity to go with him. She loved going to the gym every morning before she’d moved and she was happy to keep it going. And it wouldn’t hurt to see Rafe work out. 

It was all she could think about. It’s not just his height. Even though he’s so…so tall. At least 6’2. Rafe is big. Muscle. Strength. Yesterday he’d basically hoisted her full weight into his truck with one arm. The preppy boy polo that he’d thrown on for their families hadn’t hidden anything and his tight crew neck that he wore to the party basically outlined everything for her. 

She quite literally wanted him to throw her around like a ragdoll. Or let her climb him like a tree. Whatever, Rafe is hot. 

He has an intense vibe, seemingly takes himself very seriously. But, Milan figures she could relax him. Loosen him up a little bit. 

They were gonna have so much fun. Smiling at her own reflection in the mirror, Milan spritzes vanilla Sol de Janeiro and all but fucking skips down the steps and to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Miss Milan, you’re awake early. I just started prepping for breakfast, but I could make you a coffee while you wait.” The private chef that her parents had hired a couple years ago had made the move with them. They’d paid for her to come with them to Outer Banks and offered to increase her salary because…well…it wasn’t their nice home in Quebec that she was used to. 

“No, thank you, Miss Ally.” Milan reaches over, stealing a newly washed strawberry and biting into it. “And my parents aren’t awake, right?”

“Of course not. You know your mother won’t roll out of bed until she smells the food cooking and your dad won’t come until I’ve had to warm it up twice. Why? Are you alright, honey?”

The younger woman nods, tossing the green stem into the trash and reaching for two travel cups. “Can you keep a secret? I have, like, a date today.” 

“Like a date?”

“Yeah, with a guy. He’s really cute, and sweet. So,” Milan begins sifting matcha, smiling down at the cup and resting her cheek on her shoulder. “‘M’gonna hang out with him today.”

“Less than 48 hours and there’s a boy, huh? Atta girl.” Miss Ally passes Milan the vanilla protein powder. “You’ve been worried about the move, thinking it was a bad idea, and here you are making friends.”

“Mhm, hot ones. With blue eyes and dimples.”

“And where,” Ally nudges Milan out of the way as she pours the hot water into the travel mug, “am I supposed to tell your parents you are when you’re out with Mr. Blue Eyes and Dimples?” 

“Touring the island.” She chirps. 

“With who?”

“Just like…generally. They should be cool with it honestly, I just know they’re gonna make it weird, but like, he’s the son of Dad’s first friend here so he shouldn’t be mad. How come he gets a boyfriend and I don’t?”

“Oh, just say that to your parents, I’m sure they’ll go for it then.” Ally snorts, whisking the eggs as Milan seals the travel mugs, laughing to herself as the girl slides both of the pink cups to the end of the counter next to her gym bag.

When Rafe pulls up outside of the Cabot house, he texts Milan before hopping out of his truck and jogging up the cobblestone. He agreed not to ring the doorbell because her parents were awake but he’d be damned if he didn’t pick her up at the door. 

As he stands on at the doorstep he adjusts the hat he has rested on his head and rocks on his feet impatiently. He isn’t waiting long. The door swings open and he’s immediately hit with the sweet smell of vanilla and soon after is met with the walking wet dream carrying the scent. 

“Good morning!” Milan grins, tossing her arms around his neck, bouncing up into his arms. Rafe isn’t fucking stupid, he’s quick to catch her around the waist and squeeze, relishing in the feeling of her pressed against him. 

“Morning, princess.” he murmurs into her hair, squeezing her again for good measure before placing her back on her feet.  “You, uh, you always go to the gym in shit like that?”

“Shit like what? Stop.” she laughs as he snaps the elastic of her leggings. 

“You just look good. That’s all I’m sayin’.” He chews the gum in his mouth and nudges her chin with his knuckle, mumbling, “Watch your mouth.”

“Yeah? Thank you.” she grins, looking away from him briefly. “I made…I made you something, like a gym drink or whatever.

“That’s cute sweetheart, what do you like me or somethin’?” Rafe snorts, choosing to ignore the fact that the travel mug she was pushing into his hands was bubble gum pink. He holds his hand out to her, not even looking back as he starts guiding her over to his truck. When he hears a little shuffle from her he looks back and glances down at her feet. “What the fuck, your shoes aren’t tied.”

“Okay, one of them untied when I was making you this delicious protein shake and I didn’t wanna make you wait-” 

“Christ.” Rafe grunts, unlocking his car and wrenching the door open, planting his hands on Milan’s waist and hoisting her into the seat easily. He tugs her foot onto his lap and begins tying the lace of her sneaker tightly. “Gonna break your fuckin’ neck.”

“I wasn’t gonna fall, Rafe-”

“You literally were letting me drag you down those steps.” When he’s done Rafe lifts her leg into the car, closing the door and walking around the driver’s side and climbing in. After he clicks his seatbelt on, he pauses and frowns when he sees Milan’s pout staring forward at the road. He puffs out a breath. “What? What’s wrong?”

“You haven’t said ‘thank you’. For your drink.” 

“Wh-are you serious?”

“Yes. You seriously haven’t said ‘thank you.’” 

“Uh…” Rafe’s brows furrow as he observes the girl. Arms crossed, dramatic frown on her pretty, glossed lips, knees pointed away from him. “Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” she immediately warms up, clicking her own seatbelt on and taking a sip of her drink, moving back to the middle of her seat. As Rafe tries to sort through what quick, guerilla warfare he’d just experienced, he starts driving the car. 

So that’s her game. She’s cute and pretty and pouts like a fuckin’ brat when she doesn’t feel like she’s getting what she wants. Or someone is saying something she doesn’t wanna hear. All she’s showing me is that I’m exactly what she needs.

“M’just sayin’ like your shirt’s a little slutty. Like it’s tight, I can see your nipples and everything.”

“Don’t say shit like that, what the fuck?” 

“It’s like tight and stuff, like it’s a little bit of a hoochie shirt.” 

“Hoo-hoochie shirt. Fuckin’ brat.” Rafe shakes his head. In the time it’s taken to drive to the gym and for Rafe to put his card down to get Milan a temporary membership, she’d clearly been trying to test him. She was pushing boundaries to see what he would and wouldn’t accept. And he would try to be patient. But the jokes weren’t gonna be as funny when he was using her mouth for what he really wanted to use it for. Not now. He had to wait. To humor her. She was cute. He’d give her that. Maybe he needed to be cute back. “Don’t work out in the damn shirt anyway,” 

Milan’s eyes widen as she stares up at Rafe from where she’s stretching on the floor. She bites her lip and shifts her gaze to herself in the mirror as he easily tugs the tight shirt off of his chiseled muscles, tossing it into his gym bag next to her. 

Jesus. She bites her lip, berating herself inwardly as she glances at the tanned skin he was now baring for the world to see, six pack on display as he starts doing some standing stretches. “Here, sweetheart.” Rafe crouches next to her, pushing one of his airpods into her ear. “You, uh, didn’t have headphones, so you can just listen to my shit.”

“Can we make a spotify jam?”

“What?”

“So, I can add songs too, can we make a jam? And we’d be listening to the same thing, at the same time, you know?”

“I mean, yeah, sure why the fuck not? You’re not gonna add any corny shit are you? M’trustin’ you with my workout. Like that’s pretty fuckin’ special.”

“Oh my God, Rafe, I’m…I’m sure we have basically the same taste in music.”

Rafe and Milan are at war for essentially their whole warm up. They agree to separate for cardio and then meet back up for them both to try some of each other’s usual workouts. With the shared music blasting in their ears, they both still felt like they were hanging out for the 40 minutes that they are apart. Rafe spent half of his run on the treadmill listening to Beyoncé and Sabrina Carpenter’s discographies while Milan genuinely flinched on the stairmaster with Travis Scott and 50 Cent pounding against her ear drums. Both of them looking at each other with sick satisfaction when it was their turn to pick a song, making a game out of picking something they thought would irritate the other more. 

Rafe had finally had enough and started skipping Milan’s picks when the High School Musical Soundtrack started playing, eventually coming to pluck her off of her machine to start doing weights as Troy began singing about wanting his own dream. 

By now they’d both finished their protein shakes and felt like they had a lot of energy. Well, at least they both did. Until Rafe started making Milan do his workouts.

She was both turned on and enraged as he demonstrates different forms of weightlifting, chuckling at her deeply as she struggles to do another set. “Mmkay, okay, that’s enough, I’m done with that.”

“Nah, you didn’t even finish that one, c’mon let’s go.”

“Rafe, no” she whines getting off of the bench. Milan immediately gasps as Rafe fists the fabric at the front of her leggings, lifting her off of her feet and physically placing her back onto the equipment. 

Slapping her thigh, he offers her a no-nonsense look that lets her know that she isn’t getting up until she completes this workout to his satisfaction. “Baby, let’s go, stop fuckin’ around.”

Shit. Yes sir. “I want…breakfast food after this. Like, waffles, and butter and stuff.”

“'Let me come to the gym with you, Rafe. I wanna where my cute little outfit and not workout.'”

“Asshole.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Wait…until we start doing my pilates workout. All those muscles will mean…nothing.”

“Yeah, you like ‘em?” He smirks, grabbing the weight to ease it down against her before helping her off. “That your excuse? Can’t focus?”

“Stop…being mean, worst date ever.” She whines, leaning her head against his chest. 

Rafe pats Milan’s ass twice before nudging her into the direction of the next machine. "Best fuckin' date of your life, brat."

“Are you gonna keep staring at my butt or are you gonna try again?” Milan calls over to Rafe. 

“My body is not built for that girly shit. You keep goin’ though.” He says. Milan rolls her eyes and continues on the machine, pausing when she sees the reflection of a camera flash in the mirror. “Damn, flash was on.”

“Rafe!”

“You look good, baby. I thought you’d like me to be all sentimental and shit, capture our first date.”

“Oh my God. You’re like, not even working out at this point.”

He shrugs, tilting his head to get a better view of her. “You’re the one who got an attitude when that girl asked me to spot her and made us change floors.

“She saw you with me.” Milan hisses through her teeth, pausing her movements. “She was trying to be funny.” 

“Think so?” Rafe scoffs, squirting water into his mouth from the bottle he’d kept in his bag. 

“Yeah, but if you liked the attention you could go back down.”

Rafe wets his bottom lip at that. Being at the gym with Milan has been fun. Turns out, he likes talking to her, which is more than what he could say for the majority of the population. She’s sexy, and doesn’t mind him being handsy. She seemed to all but expect him to pat her ass in encouragement after she finishes anything. She likes for him to teach her, guide her movements, place her on and off of machines. She likes to whine and have him sort her out. And she’s possessive. Jealous. Normally the concept of having someone police him sounds emasculating and unacceptable to Rafe. But watching her pretty little face turn into a scowl as she watched girls check him out or come up to him like they always did in the gym? It turned him on bad. 

She matched his crazy. It didn’t matter that it was their first date, the same way Rafe’s lip curled in disgust as he caught the fuckheads wandering the gym eyeing her before he stepped in their line of vision, Milan would physically place herself in front of his view, guiding his eyes to her and away from any girl delusional enough to think they were as bad as her.

But her mouth when she’s frustrated. That was something Rafe was gonna have to work on. Lucky for the both of them, a stern warning seemed to be enough for now. Rafe stalks over to where she’s sitting, stepping on the machine behind her and wrapping his hand loosely around her neck, pushing the back of her head to rest on the front of his stomach. Milan looks up at him through her lashes, as he pushes his thumb into her cheek, encouraging her to open her mouth and squirting a little water in from his water bottle. He fixes her with a disapproving look. “Chill out. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“I followed you up here, right?”

“Yeah.” she says softly, leaning into his hand.

“Alright then. Let’s not worry about the wrong things.”

After 3 hours at the gym the two of them hit the showers, separately despite both of their hesitation to separate again. They walk out of the building in different clothes and Rafe’s arm strewn over Milan’s shoulder, holding her hand where it came up to meet his own. He has to hide his smirk when he catches her making eye contact with the girl who’d asked Rafe to spot her as they walked out, a bright smile on her face. 

He was starting to like this pretty little thing more and more. Rafe lifts her back into the car, this time buckling her seatbelt for her before getting into the driver’s side. He finds that Milan can talk…a lot. She has jumped from topic to topic in the 15 minute drive more than Rafe thinks he can in 2 hours. He’s surprised to find he doesn’t find her annoying. Rafe finds his cheeks dimpling as he listens to her yap about her favorite tv shows, a movie she wants him to watch, her plans for her next nails set and thinking about getting highlights in her hair.

All the while she rubs his bicep, leaning into him as he holds her thigh in his large hand. He offers her small mumbles of acknowledgement to let her know he’s still listening. ‘Hm.’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘Sound’s good, baby.’ 

“You’re not listening to me.” she sighs, looking out the window as they pull into the restaurant. “M’talkin’ too much.”

“Nah, I like that shit. I’d let you know if I’d had enough.” Rafe places his hand on the back of her headrest as he backs into the spot. “But, uh, my head’s always movin’ right? I’m thinkin’ while I listen.”

Milan watches as he shifts gears and places his truck in the middle of two spots, declaring under his breath he doesn’t want anyone ‘fuckin’ up his truck’ to justify taking up two spots. “So…okay. What’re you, like, thinking about? While you’re listening to me.”

“Uh, honestly?” He asks. Intense blue eyes rest on soft brown ones. Milan just nods, turning more toward him. “How fuckin’ hot you are. Pretty fuckin’ distracting.”

“Oh.” She says.

“Yeah. Oh. Does that throw you off or something, like, oh is a weird response-”

“No, I was just saying oh, like-”

“Okay, because, I’m being pretty fuckin’ clear and you’re-”

Milan unclips her seatbelt quickly. Before Rafe can blink her soft lips are pressed against his and before he can kiss her back she’s back in her seat, pulling down the mirror and fumbling in her purse for her lipgloss. “I wasn’t supposed to kiss you until our first date was over. I can’t believe I did that. Oh my God.” Rafe chuckles lowly as she fumbles in her purse, dropping it and spilling its contents all over her lap and the floor of the car. “Oh my God.”

“Did you, uh,” He pauses, trying not to openly bark out a laugh at her, scratching his head. “Did you only bring lip gloss and perfume? Like, no wallet. At all.”

“Okay…” Milan starts slowly, “I understand that looks bad, and like, people believe in that 50-50 stuff now, and so I shouldn’t-”

“Baby, the fuck do I look like? I wouldn’t be taking you out if I couldn’t afford to, I’m not a fuckin’ pogue.”

“A what?”

“Don’t worry about it. And don’t worry about that fuckin’ peck, that wasn’t a real kiss.” It shocks her how easy it is for Rafe to scoot his chair back and pull her into his lap. “This is the shit you should worry about.”

Rafe Cameron pulls Milan Cabot into the nastiest kiss that either of them had ever fantasized about, let alone experienced. He holds her jaw, working his own open as he pushes his tongue into her mouth, swallowing her whimpers and humming against her. He separates their mouths briefly to kiss down her neck only to drag back up to her lips, chuckling darkly when she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, gripping her thigh with his free hand as he drools into her open mouth. 

When he pulls away for the final time he rests his head back on the headrest, pushing his thumb into her mouth and releasing a breath as he watches her obediently suck on it. 

By the time they step out of the car to head into the nice breakfast restaurant he’d brought her to, Rafe had willed his…friend to go down, and they had undone the damage he’d done to Milan’s makeup and hair. As he guided her in by the waist, tugging down the hem of her pretty little dress to cover the ass he’d just been gripping he felt a feeling of superiority. The woman next to him was relying on him and him alone to lead her around. All the loser fuckers they passed on the way to their table could stare all they wanted. They could take a mental picture and store it away in their sick little spank banks for later until they came to the realization they’d never get a girl like Milan and finally blew their fucking brains out. But she was here with Rafe. And that’s how he expected it to be from here on out.

He’d decided. She was gonna be his.

[chuusheartattck]

HAUNTED

Chapter 4: Missing

Despite how anxious you felt, you weren’t about to be late on your third day of class. Groaning, you slowly make your way out of bed. You weren’t sure why you signed up for nine am classes but here you were.

Lumine was still asleep since she didn’t have class today. What a lucky bitch.

You quickly got ready, packed your bag and made your way out of the dorms. The cool autumn air stung your face as you exited the warm building.

You were tired from staying up late. You weren’t sure why Charlotte hasn’t answered her texts. Has something happened to her? She would’ve at least updated you. Right?

You checked your phone again and still no notification from her. She must’ve forgotten to text you back. Right?

After what seemed like forever, you made it on time for your first class. Scara had already gotten there before you.

You sat down at the available seat next to him.

He slowly looked at you, “Do I know you?” His eyes moving up and down at you.

“Shut the fuck up,” You gently pushed his head in response. “Anyways, hypothetically, what if your friend went somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be and stopped replying to your texts?”

Scara gave you a confused expression. You ended up explaining everything for 10 minutes including showing him the texts between you and Charlotte.

He sat in silence for a moment before responding, “I think your friend is stupid.”

“Aren’t you at least a little bit worried?”

“Ever heard of curiosity killing the cat? I’m not saying she’s dead but she clearly wasn’t careful enough. She must’ve gotten expelled or something and can’t reach her phone.”

“I guess you’re right. I don’t know I’m just worried for her.”

“You met her a few days ago. You don’t know her. She’s probably fine.”

The professor was already starting class. You turned away from Scara and tried paying attention. You kept thinking about everything Charlotte has told you up to this point. You wondered if your professor knew something you didn’t.

After a dreadful two hour long lecture, class was dismissed. You barely remembered what it was about since you were preoccupied with your own thoughts. Periodically you would check to see if Charlotte was at least active. Scara had to confiscate your phone for a while.

As you two were packing up, you took your phone and checked it again. Still nothing.

“Did she ghost me or something?” You muttered under your breath.

“Y/n stop. You sound like you’re in a situationship,” Scara grumbled in annoyance.

The two of you made your way out of class, “Honestly you’re right, maybe I am being dramatic,” You were about to say more when something caught your attention.

A group of students were hanging up posters. The posters were of someone familiar. You were speed walking towards the crowd with Scara trying to catch up behind you.

On the wall you saw a black and white poster with the words “Have you seen me?” in giant bold letters. Below it, was a picture of Charlotte.

This can’t be real.

You grabbed the attention of a nearby student, “Is she actually missing?”

“We think so,” The student began. “She didn’t show up to class today and hasn’t been answering her phone. We sent someone to go to her dorm but she wasn’t there and her belongings were still in place. We even asked her roommate and they said they didn’t see her come back last night.”

“Did she tell anyone where she was going?” You questioned.

The student shook her head, “No, her roommate doesn’t know either. Charlotte has been secretive lately,” She handed you the poster. “If you know anything please contact the number below. We tried getting help from the police but they’re not willing to do anything. This is all too strange.”

The student walked away, leaving you and Scara speechless.

You stared at the floor in silence. You weren’t sure how to process the fact that someone you know is missing and possibly dead. You didn’t want to think Charlotte was dead but every bad possible outcome started flooding your brain.

You started to regret not going with her. Maybe if you went with here this wouldn’t have happened. It was terrible to blame yourself, but you couldn’t help it. You were the last person she talked to.

“Sorry,” Scara’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

You took a deep breath trying to recollect yourself, “Thanks. We have a bit before our next class so I’m going back to my dorm. You can come if you want.” You couldn’t look him in the eyes. You were afraid you were going to start crying.

You weren’t sure if you were allowed to. You knew it wasn’t your fault but you still felt like you could’ve done something.

The two of you began walking to your dorm. It was a silent walk, he wasn’t good with comforting people. It’s not like you were in the mood to start a conversation anyways.

He was typing on his phone a lot which you assumed was him warning Lumine you guys were coming.

Everything felt odd.

What happened to Charlotte? Where is her phone? Did she get kidnapped?

You were too lost in your thoughts and didn’t seem to notice the three figures ahead of you.

Scara managed to pull you before you crashed into them, “I know you’re sad but pay attention- wait Aether?” Scara looked passed you.

Aether, Cyno, and Xiangling were standing awkwardly in front of you. It wasn’t like you to completely ignore them.

“Y/n are you good?” Cyno waved his hand in front of you.

“Yeah I’m fine! Just something crazy happened so I’m a little shocked is all,” You tried waving off his concerns. Nobody bought it but they weren’t about to pry.

“Where were you guys going?” Xiangling asked.

“Back to Y/n’s dorm,” Scara replied curtly.

Aether and Cyno raised their eyebrows, “Lumine is there too!” You interrupted. “If you aren’t busy then you should come. I have something I need to tell you guys anyways.”

Cyno began to talk, “Is it important? We were going to go get Chipotle and-” Aether smacked his arm and pointed at the poster you were holding. Cyno’s face turned white when he realized his mistake, “But Chipotle can wait!”

You rolled your eyes and the five of you began walking again. The four of them were talking amongst themselves while you were in your thoughts again.

You were trying to theorize on what happened to her. You didn’t know her for a long time but you still chatted and made a connection with her. You kept glancing over at the poster and saw her face staring back at you.

You wish it was just a terrible dream.

All of you finally arrived at your dorm. When you opened the door, you were greeted with the rest of your friend group waiting for you.

You stood in the doorway for a second, confused on how and why they’re there. The room isn’t that big either so it was impressive to see all twelve of you fit inside.

“Um..hi?” You managed to say while closing the door behind you.

“I didn’t know they were coming either. Apparently Xiangling texted them to come meet here for an emergency,” Lumine looked at the girl next to you. “I don’t know how she managed to convince them to ditch their classes.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” Navia pointed to the missing person poster in your hands.

You nodded and sat down on your bed which Heizou and Kazuha were occupying.

You began to recount everything from last night and up until now. It took a while but you were able to finish without bursting into tears.

Yanfei was the first one to speak, “What do you want to do about this?”

You laid back on your bed, staring at the ceiling, “I’m not sure. What can I do? Nothing right? If Charlotte’s journalism friends couldn’t get the police to do anything then what can I do? It’s not like I can look for her myself.”

“Not by yourself but with a group of others perhaps,” Heizou chimed in. “I mean fuck, if she was trying to expose the school and went missing in the middle of it…”

Yanfei sighed before replying, “I get what you’re saying but we don’t know this girl. If we try to find out what happened to her then what if something similar happens to us?”

“I agree with Yanfei, she went missing trying to find out what happened to this other person that went missing,” Aether began to talk. “But I also see where Heizou is coming from. It seems way too much of a coincidence that Charlotte vanished while investigating the school.”

“Aether you cannot be serious about this,” Lumine deadpanned. “I feel bad for what happened to her but we aren’t detectives. This isn’t some mystery crime show, this is real life. There’s real life consequences.”

“Also what if Y/n now has a target on them? They were texting Charlotte through everything. Whoever or whatever took her must’ve saw the texts,” Scara added.

Everyone was arguing amongst themselves. Some of them were on board with finding out what happened and some were trying to be rational about this.

You sat up and talked over them, “I don’t need your guy’s help if you don’t want to do this,” They all stared at you blankly. “Listen, I understand you don’t know this girl so you don’t have to argue whether we should do something or not. I’d feel even worse if something happened to you guys because of me. I’m fine with trying to investigate alone, even if it’s stupid.”

Everyone tried arguing back with you, “All of you shush! I’m not saying I’m going to do this like how she did it. I’m not sure why I want to in the first place. I just feel like I have to do something. Even if we weren’t close she was still someone I was getting acquainted with.”

It was quiet for a moment before Hu Tao broke the silence, “I mean they can’t take all twelve of us right?”

“What friend would I be if I let someone do this by themselves?” Navia muttered looking at you.

Everyone hesitantly agreed to help you in someway.

You were shocked to say the least, “You guys don’t have to do this. It was a crazy idea anyways I should just let someone else handle it-“

You couldn’t finish the sentence before Kazuha interrupted you, “You say that but eventually you’ll end up doing it on your own anyways. It’s not something you can easily forget or ignore.”

“I still think it’s a dumb idea but how do we start?” Xiao asked.

“Well I’m glad you asked!” Heizou got up from your bed and towards the whiteboard on the wall. He took a marker and started to write down his thoughts. “Since she was last seen in the library I suggest we start there. Now before any of you say anything, I know it might be dangerous considering she was last seen there. However, it’s not like it’s taped off. Anyone can still go in there.”

“Yeah but what if it’s closed off?” Yanfei got up and took the marker from Heizou. She crossed off ‘check secret library room.’

Heizou snatched the marker back, “I considered that too but it’s a room. They might make it harder to find but they’re not going to completely close it off. It’ll still serve a purpose.” It was clear he was in his element. “Back to what Scara said about the school now targeting Y/n. I highly doubt it. Charlotte most likely has a password to her phone so it’s not easy for someone to get into it unless they hire someone to do it. Usually that takes a few days to process and in the meantime, her friends already filed a missing person report. If they stated that she didn’t tell anyone where she was going then they have no purpose going through it.”

“She took pictures on the camera she always brings. They probably destroyed or confiscated that. They wouldn’t think she took pictures on her phone,” You added. “If the police aren’t willing to help then they’re probably connected to the school. Sounds fucked up but it’s possible.”

“Library it is,” Yanfei mumbled and sat back down on the floor. “I still don’t think all of us should go inside the room. Half of us should stay outside and be on the look out for anything.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. It was still risky to go to the library again but what else was there to do?

“I have pepper spray if anything does happen,” Hu Tao chimed in.

“I can attest it does work. She sprayed me once on accident and I saw my life flash before my eyes,” Cyno winced recalling the memory.

You all agreed to go during the weekend when nobody has any classes. You’ll meet up back at the dorm and go together for safety reasons.

It made you hopeful that your friends are there to support you. It was still dangerous but there’s more of you compared to you going by yourself.

One by one everyone started to leave and it was time for you and Scara’s next class. This time you felt like you could breathe for a second. You were still anxious but you were one step closer to finally understanding what the hell is going on with this university.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: Its been a while since i last updated 😭😭 Sorry about that! I got a bit unmotivated to continue and i got a job so it made it harder for me to sit down and write but i’m back now! I forgot how much i enjoyed writing this series lol The actual romance will begin next chapter dw

Synopsis: Friends start their first year at Teyvat University. The school that is known for its paranormal activity. The group doesn’t truly believe the rumors until they start to experience how frightening the school can be. What happens when the friend group investigates the truth of the hauntings?

Taglist: @morgyyyyyyy @state-of-grac3 @trulyylee @jellichuu @practicoi @yuminako @eyshamuun @kuniz-darlingg @heartsforni-ki @lalalaloveallmydays @animeobsessed56 @samyayaya @lloovvv @adepticiaoo @cherrysnows @miisamores @strayharmony943 @xionri @kazumiku @bethleeham @sukisprettyface @jayzioxx @kaikaidenkai @js-a-silly-little-guy @jiminscarmex @i-am-me-and-you @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @brideofbriar @floweringanna @miy-svz @vitanye

[megumislovedoll]

super shy? no, super lucky

⠀ ⠀— chapter 2 of the cool with you series

yn pov 3rd person

She sighed, finally finishing her test. Now, it was time to see what she got on it. She'd been lucky enough to remember her test was today just in time, but now let’s see if she was lucky enough to get a good grade despite her last minute studying, constantly leaving online classes early, and turning in assignments late. 

Which the only reason why these things would happen is because of newjeans. 

“ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh,” she whispered, her hand shaking as she reached for the refresh button—or maybe she was just being dramatic. She pressed it, and then—“YES! OH MY GOD!” she cheered, seeing her grade: a B. 

Just as she was about to scream some more, a text popped up, it was utahime reminding the group about an afternoon dance rehearsal for their new song, Supernatural.

“Right, rehearsal,” she murmured, calming down a little but still feeling the excitement. She grabbed her dance bag and was just about to leave when she caught a look at her reflection in the mirror by the door. Maybe she should actually get ready for the day—considering she’d just ran out of bed in panic earlier today and hadn’t even showered yet.

Megumi’s pov 3rd person

morning classes are done, and now he has about an hour and thirty minutes until his afternoon classes. Everyone else is out of the dorm doing something, except Toge, who’s napping on the couch. Megumi opens the fridge—nothing, besides four eggs left. "Of course," but he pulls the eggs out of the fridge and starts cooking them, which makes Toge’s big back ass wake up.

"Can I get some?" Toge asks.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because there’s only four, and you guys are always eating everything anyway."

Toge groans. Maybe a few minutes later, Megumi gets a text from Yuuta: "megumi it’s your turn to get the groceries and share some eggs with toge"

"No way you just snitched on me," Megumi says. "Shareeee, Megumi."

"You know what," he says, "since you wanna be so big..." He puts the cooked eggs onto a plate. "Have the rest. I don’t fucking care."

He moves toward the door and grabs his keys. 

"Wait, where are you going?" Toge asks.

"To get some groceries, since you wanted to tell on me," he replies, leaving the dorm.

Yn pov 3rd person 

It’s been about 15 minutes, and Uber won’t fucking work. She tried reopening the app, restarting her phone, deleting and downloading the app EVERYTHING but it won’t work. She also tried asking the other members to pick her up; half of them are already there, and the other half hasn’t seen her message.

“guess I’m just gonna have to walk.”

The walk isn’t exactly long, just a few minutes, but it’s still risky considering she could get noticed. So, she’s gonna have to wear a mask and some glasses. She went down the stairs, then out the door, walking down the street with her head down as well so she could definitely not be noticed. Amazing idea, right?

Yeah, until you bump int—

masterlist!

TAGLIST @cinnamxnangel @sorenflyinn @beepbopzlorp @angelcakkess @ibeatmywifeandkidss @h-aecat @megumisluciouslashes @gumims @starrysho @tlissablr @kiss-my-asscheeks @good-mourning0 @mikikoo @1l-ynn @stillnotherapy @kzoyu @brideads @mikko-mikko  @shokosbunny @fushiguruuzzzz @hanniemylovelyquokka @adoremae    @ocyeanicc @sentifua @sirenla @depressinglyobsessed @m1ndfulsorrows

©megumislovedoll all rights reserved. do not translate, repost on other platforms, modify, or copy.

[that1notetaker]

Okay so in the books, Jack IS in fact. An alien. A whole ass alien. I like to play with that concept with canon modern Jack because he sometimes, in my head, he does weird stuff. Weird, even for a spirit. And he see's sandy or some of the guardians who, also are aliens, and goes 'yeah that normal. that's about right' and the others are like What the Fuck are you guys talking about? I mean Jack basically got reverse lived by the moon, which again, is a spaceship in the books. All I'm saying is that being Jack frost has to be very funny. Jack has SO much time to think. He's such an aloof guy. A funny guy. WRONG. MY GUY IS A NERD AND SPENDS MOST OF THE TIME STUCK IN THE LIBRARY READING ABOUT THE THINGS HE WISHES HE COULD EXPERIENCE FOR HIMSELF!! AND NOW HE CAN INTERACT FOR BRIEF PERIODS OF TIME WITH PEOPLE! Why? Because apparently the power of belief that kids have with Santa is KINDA SIMILAR to the belief that people have when it comes to famous people. It's like people think they're some otherworldy being or something. People think about famous people like they're Some Other Thing, and that's exactly what JACK is. So IT WORKS. Anyway so Jack starts popping around places for fun, it's his thing. Thing is--okay. Okay so. So the way I see it, there has to be a reason why no one can tell Jack is there--I mean, his powers are perfectly visible. He could make some snow/ice/frost fancy show of power or something and boom. But there has to be a reason why that doesn't work. The way I see it, our brains would have to--kind of bypass the magic and hijack (lol) the mental train onto the next, closer train of association thought. Something happens? Oh, must be for X reason! Okay. The brain explains it, and Jack gets shoved into the background. Cool. But in modern times? In modern times, we see something shiny, some fancy show of ice and snow and we think 'OH. SOMEONE IS DOING A TRICK. A SHOW. A SOMETHING. OH MAN THESE 3D GENERATED STUFF IS REALLY COOL GUYS WHERE'S THE MUSIC'. So basically--our modern, 2024 year of our lord chains of thought become something that Jack can...wear a suit into. He can go 'oh, so the people DO believe there's someone doing all this. Not Jack Frost...BUT. But maybe I could invent A NEW Jack Frost. The alter ego. AND IT WORKS. IT actually works. It's a loophole! whoo! In essence: He exists as long as he becomes the 'idea' plausible of being perceived. Anyway yeah that's. yeah, there you go, thoughts. In no particular order. I hope it made sense

Something something AU in which Jack can be seen but ONLY as his street performer persona (named jack frost obv). Somehow he gained a reputation by appearing in the most random locations at the most random times, bypassing security and hijacking public events to put on a cool show. (Sort of like the Step it up movies, remember those?) No one knows how he does it, just that he does. People have theories. He denies none of them.

North: You have believers? Jack: Even better. Jack: I have a sponsor.

[spades-0f-ace]

very rough ref sheet of my aurora oc. I'll call them Alouette for now because it's the best name suggestion I got and I cannot for the fucking life of me think of anything better. They're a little bundle of feathers and anxiety on legs with a tendancy to get themselves into situations, elaborately planning ways to get out of situations only to be dug deeper into the situation.

Anyways their whole deal is that they are a crow ferin (no magic) but they wanted to be able to use magic (can't use magic) because it's shiny and cool as fuck. So they enroll into the Aseran Academy under the pretense that they're just a really tall cloudchild who also happens to lack wings ("lost in the accident" :pensive:), as well as a handful of lighting lacrimas haphazardly stuffed into their puffy sleeves. By some miracle they make it in and make it a decent amount of time unnoticed (probably through sheer force of being surrounded by people equally high int, comically low wis as them). However people inevitably do get suspicious of their janky fumbling (looking for the right lacrima) every time they go to cast a spell. So in order to make it look like they're actuall casting, they hatch a devious little plan.

It's a really bad plan. They implant themselves with a lacrima array (ouch). Big lacrima in the shoulder to use as a battery, smaller ones in the fingertips to act as an output, bracer with rotating bits for quick rune combinations, and little wires stolen from broken automatons to connect it all. While the whole system does actually work, having glowing fingertips isn't subtle at fucking all and the whole plan backfires and they get even more suspicious.

One of their professors calls them over in private, reveals that Alouette was fooling basically none of the professors but they were curious to see where it would go. Said professor figures out how Alouette just Fucked Up their arm and is mortified, impressed, and deeply concerned. Luckily for Alouette, they do get to stay in the academy despite not being a mage because their lacrima knowledge is pretty extensive, and they have the potential to make a lot of useful things with them. They are however, banned from doing any unethical surgeries or experiments on themself.

their feathers also puff up when they're angry or stressed. like a bird. they are a bird.

[godevbo]

\\OOC; IMPORTANT.

Hey if any of u fuck ass anons go after other evbo roleplayers like this again im deleting my blog, good luck trying to get ur content when all u have is "fake Evbo's"

(Screenshot taken from 3v60 's blog)

Fun fact! I wouldn't care if i deleted my blog!

Yall would, tho! So get ur shit together!

Anyways, go follow other parkciv roleplayers bc they're cool, including but not limited to!;

@3v60 @seawattgaming @aurelius-tmf @masterapollo @snitch-apf @evbos-master-friend @masterfriend

That's all i could find, unfortunately... have a gr8 fucking day yall!!!

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

Why Do Men?

Quinn pushed the food around on her plate, barely listening to the man across from her. He was attractive enough, seemed kind. But good God, he was boring. From the moment she walked in he droned on and on about him and what he did for work, how much money he made. His big flashy car he had. Right now she was really hoping that Noah had asked her to stay with him instead. In fact, she had been sure that he would. Instead, he had rushed out of that bathroom and she hadn't seen him since. Not even when she knocked on his door before she left.

Him telling her she had shitty taste in men still stung a bit. Mostly because it was true. And who was it that picked up the pieces after every failed date? Every brief relationship that failed after three months? Noah. Always there to pick up the pieces and put her back together again. She was willing to bet he already had a whole thing planned for when she got home tonight, too.

"You're one of those goth girls, right?"

Quinn snapped out of her head. What the fuck was this guy on about?

"Excuse me?"

"I'm asking because you look like one. Tattoos, dark hair. Dark clothes." He leaned forward. "Bet you're into some kinky shit, too."

Her stomach turned. What the fuck? Did he really just say that? It didn't matter so much that she wasn't goth. Though, she definitely had more gothic tendencies than not. The sexualization of goth girls, however, was too much. It was vile. It was disgusting. God. Noah had been right.

"Mmmm. This date is over." Sighing, frustrated, she got up, pulling out her wallet. "Here's my half."

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that. It's just a question."

"Be like what? Bored out of my mind because you can't shut the fuck up about how great you think you are? Or irritated because you seem to think that goth women exist for your pleasure?" She threw the money down on the table, laughing. "See you never."

Satisfied she walked away, pulling her phone out. Everything in her screamed at her to call Noah, not an Uber. Noah would be there faster. But she didn't want to hear his "I told you so" just yet. That might set her off even more and she was trying not to cause a scene.

The cool night air hit her skin as the app told her a driver was on her way. 15 minutes until her ride arrived. Cursing she pulled up the text thread with Noah, debating texting him that he had been right. Just then, however, her date appeared in front of her, angry.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You're not even that pretty, anyway."

Quinn's stomach churned, her palms going sweaty as she glanced up and down the sidewalk. There were people. Lots of them. She should be safe, right? Fuck. What had Noah taught her? He had tried so hard to teach her how to defend herself. Now that the time may be here she couldn't remember a thing. Steeling herself for what may happen she lifted her chin, meeting the man's eyes.

"I said the date is over."

"You know, you should be grateful I even gave you the time of day. I make more money in a year than you ever will in your life."

She laughed. Genuinely deeply laughed. This guy wasn't going to attack her. His ego might be bruised, but that's as far as it would go. The type of guy that used his wealth to get sex. If he even actually made that much money.

"Says the grown ass man crying because the girl that 'isn't even that pretty.' Do you even hear yourself right now?"

"Whatever. Good luck finding a man that'll put up with you."

She watched as he walked off, ignoring the tiny crack in her armor that last comment had made. So many failed dates. Nothing lasting more than three months in the last seven years. Maybe he was right and there was something just inherently wrong with her. Her track record definitely spoke to that.

Her phone lit up, letting her know her ride had arrived just as a vehicle with an Uber sign in the window showed up. Thank fucking God. All she wanted right now was her pajamas, a movie, and her best friend.

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[witches-dream]

Warning: Ramble incoming

Here's what interests me in a potential Burning Spice redemption story, specifically the scenario in which Golden Cheese takes his Soul Jam away

First off, she can't... "Claim" it fully, she can't use its power, because she's not about Destruction, which is what his Soul Jam represents. Similarly to how Spice couldn't use her Soul Jam because he doesn't represent Abundance, and similarly to how Smoked Cheese could do fuck all with it other than ruining absolutely everything. There was a reason that the initial Soul Jams got split, and now that they are separated into their respective halves, the originals no longer exist and CAN'T exist.

So that's why if Goldie were to take Spice's Soul Jam, she'd have to store it somewhere. And I'm assuming that being far away from it weakens the connection, but then again Hollyberry was taking strolls around Beast-Yeast while her own Jam was sitting in her kingdom, so the connection is still there even when 1) the Soul Jam owners are far away and 2) they have weak spiritual connection to it (as in, each of the ancients had to reconnect with their respective lights to get their full power back).

What I'm getting at is that even if Golden Cheese takes Spice's Soul Jam and fucks off with it to the other side of Earthbread, it's not guaranteed that Spice will lose his connection with it and therefore immortality. So here's a logical continuation to this scenario.

He needs to stop representing Destruction.

If he no longer believes in his power and his worldviews, if he grows weak and gives up on everything, then his connection to his Soul Jam will weaken, he will lose his powers and then his immortality.

Another option is to destroy his Soul Jam, but 1) I'm not sure that's possible and 2) if Goldie wanted a trophy would she do this?? And if she wanted to spare Spice's life, destroying his Jam would be akin to indirectly killing him cuz he would lose immortality.

But anyway. How would you even go about making the Great Destroyer not represent Destruction anymore? With even a fraction of his power left, he'd still go after Goldie. He'd force someone to use spice magic to teleport him to Goldie's kingdom. If the Soul Jam is stored there, he'd gain his powers back just from being near it. I suppose we can introduce some sorta technology, like a barrier that blocks magic, which would prevent Spice from accessing his Soul Jam's power. But, if he's still connected to it, does that take away his immortality or what?

As long as he 1) believes in the "survival of the fittest" principle; 2) believes history repeats itself with no meaningful progression; 3) has no desire to give it a chance; 4) wants to fight Goldie and take her Jam; 5) believes that only destruction will distract him from boredom and probably 6) lots of other things, he still represents Destruction and therefore his Jam is still his. How to go about tormenting him enough to break that connection is beyond me. Heck, even if he kneels before Goldie and begs her to kill him, you can argue that's still his belief that destruction is the only way.

But i digress. I don't think that you need to think that deep for a fanfic. Cuz a fanfic is always a "what if" scenario based on what you want to see, not what would actually happen, and "what would actually happen" is subjective anyways, cuz this is a fictional story and those are inherently subjective.

I guess the conclusion of this ramble is that there's not a way, at least an easy one, where you could pull such a scenario off in a canon-compliant way. Cuz if you did, all of that ⬆️ would get in the way of the actual story you'd wanna tell. But mortal Burning Spice is too cool of an idea to not allow some creative liberties even if they're canon breaking but c'mon. Who cares about "canon" when you can have fanfic.

That's all from me, good night

[sherry-cleo-salvadore]

This may be an unpopular opinion - but I was not a fan of this part of the story, even more so with the way they took the direction with it ---

It was fun in fanfics and stuff - but the minute I heard it on screen I was so not impressed - but I still had hope that maybe they will handle this positively and respectfully

And then with Josh's speech I got a little hopeful that okay, maybe they will handle this story with care but then....

What the actual fuck?!

What is wrong with the writers? Why even make connections with past characters if you just wanted to kick the character off the show.

Why have Bobby call him 'good people'? Bobby, Chimney, Hen and he shared scar stories. Why have Chimney call him 'cool'? His friendship with Hen - 'Captain Wilson and I go way back...'? Why have Hen and Karen give him the protective sisters 'talk'? Why bond with Eddie and Chris? Why get him invited to Chimney and Maddie's wedding and introduce him to the family - both his biological and found family? And now connect him with Abby only for him to 'exit' and not go on with any character or story arc development?

Why even make a connection to Abby, yet another established character on the show, when the door is going to get shut? Why are there so many invisible strings when you just have to go ahead and cut them off without any resolve in future? They could have just had Buck say, 'hey, it's been six months (since the time jumps are happening off screen anyways) and things are good, why not move in with me?' and Tommy could still have the same reaction --- so what is happening you guys?

And I don't even mind the break up as such - it is the way they are saying its the final goodbye and that the door is shut which is just so disappointing - like even with that break up they had so much potential for drama, for good angsty bittersweet drama - but no they just exit the character and make it look like the door is shut.

Seriously, I am speaking as a writer (amateur as I am, but I still understand the concept of building a story) - they hit a writer's gold mine, it is so rare to have so many invisible strings full circle in the story, especially one that builds season by season and episode by episode with no exact end in vision - so why the fuck would you waste so much potential? They were given something so beautiful by the universe and they had the audacity to fuck it up - and for what?