#hey welcome to my first attempt at making a long story

[moriitis]

How do you think Toby would act with a Deaf/mute reader?

Both as a victim and as a lover. Seriously, I need to know what you think about this dynamic 🫂

NOW THIS, THIS IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE.

I actually have an OC that is deaf so I already know how Toby would react to this! (I haven't written her story or introduced her yet.) But if you are interested in my OCs or more writings in general -

MASTERLIST.

LOVER.

We'll start things off on a lover's perspective!

At first he'll forget. He'll always talk and talk and talk and then always expect to hear an answer from you.

But he adjusted to your needs quickly.

Whether you need a notepad and pen, he'll always have a pen tucked behind his ear. Or if you needed to borrow his notes app on his phone to write a message too, sure.

Sign language was hard for him, either you signed too quickly or he got jumbled up on words.

But he tries and albeit it's broken, it's enough for you to understand him.

At first he used to shake you if he wanted something from you or if he were talking, but after admitting that made you feel uncomfortable or that it startled you - he thought of alternatives.

Like flickering a light on and off or gently tapping you on the shoulder.

Admittedly, he's super curious.

And he seems himself in you too, just you can feel pain and he can hear things. A weird dynamic really but it was a welcoming one - one that actually made him feel.. normal?

Once he does get the hang of signing a bit more fluently (? is that the right word for it?) he shit talks all the time.

But it's funny.

Naturally, he feels a sense of protectiveness over you too. Especially knowing you are vulnerable due to the hearing loss.

(Honestly, he has no idea how somebody like you is able to become a Proxy, but hey , Jack has no eyes so anything is possible.)

You'll never admit this to him, but lip reading is difficult - with the gash in his cheek and all. Not only that, his German accent slurs the words together a little so sometimes you find yourself just nodding along, a smile on your face like you pretend you understand what he said.

Weirdly enough, he was too self-concious to remove his mask guard to allow you to lip read. But then he knew that that was a little selfish of him and he just had to suck it up.

And holy shit is he thankful you can't hear his tics. It's lowkey a blessing.

VICTIM.

Oh, what a beautiful, twisted blessing that he has the pleasure of killing somebody who is so helpless.

Admittedly, it ruins the fun a little for him. He likes hearing the jagged breathing under the bed, perhaps even the little whimper here and there as his victims attempt to hide away from him.

But you had no idea. You had no idea that he were standing there in your living room, watching you make your food in the kitchen.

A part of him wanted to see how long he could go for it to go unnoticed.

And a very, very, very, small part him almost.. pitied you. Because he could take your life right here, right now and you would have no idea what happened. Well, not that you had a chance to worry about that, you'd be dead before the splitting pain of his hatchet came connecting to your skull.

Toby was always told to never play with his food, his mom scolded him a lot for picking at pieces of broccoli on his plate but the idea of messing with you really did humour him.

What if he casted a sickly shadow on the wall? Or turned the light on? Or better yet, move things around! Oh, what fun!

But Toby felt no shame taking your life.

Perhaps that little bit of humanity within him screamed that now was a good time as any to leave you in peace - that you would have no idea that he stood in the very room with you from the begining.

Nah, once your name was in writing, it was rare for your life to be spared - especially at the hands of a Proxy. You were an asset, a problem and you needed to be taken care of.

Admittedly, Toby convinced himself that he was doing you a favour. Taking you out of misery, fuck, he couldn't imagine living a life not being able to hear any incoming threat but hey, you were the weakest link in the food chain.

Though he did.. linger for awhile. Just to observe, just to watch. He'll wait for you to turn around first, he needed a little noise to get him going.

[aviradasa]

Love long lost

Aaravos x Fem!reader pt 1

(picture from Pinterest, if you know the artist let me know so I can give proper credit!!)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[Angst]

Warnings: None that come to mind.

This one shot is based off of a prompt by @jellyfishxxi

Linked here

If you want a part Two leave a request, Private message me, Or tell me down in the comments!! Love you all my little goblins🖤

Don't forget to check out my Masterlist

Masterlist

Part 2 linked here

Part 3 linked here

Part 4 linked here

Do you ever have memories of things that never happened? Memories that don't even seem to be yours but in certain moments they appear before you like a flashback. You know it can't be a dream, but it almost feels like one with how otherworldly they seem and how they mostly seem to attack when the moon is high and the stars shine brightly above the land, decorating every inch of the sky in ethereal light as they paint pictures with one another. I hate them. For some reason I can't stand the sight of the stars due to the overwhelming dread I feel gazing at them. It almost feels like guilt oddly enough and not knowing. god's, not knowing makes me hate it even more.

The sound of our footsteps echoes through the thick forest surrounding the kingdom Katolis.

” I can’t believe it's been two years since we left this place..” I hear Rayla say to me as we approach the bottom of the cliff that supports the mighty castle atop it, “I know it feels like it's been longer than that right?” I ask with a small chuckle as I catch the climbing sickle Rayla tosses me, getting a grip on it I take the first jump stabbing the blade into the rock as we climb

“Yeah I suppose it could feel that way.” she stops for a moment taking another leap up the cliffside i follow “I just wonder if we will still be welcome here after how we left,” she says a large hint of uncertainty following her tone as she speaks.

I understand her concerns well, especially considering the circumstances of our little disappearance. Two years ago shortly after the fight at the storm spire I had been wide awake unable to sleep due to another one of those pesky memories, and went out for a little walk in the castle during said walk I found my dear friend Rayla attempting to sneak out of a window, and with some convincing i got her to allow me to join her. I know it was hard on her. That night she left a lot behind like her love, her friendship, and the trust she shared with the others, especially Callum. But even though we were both struggling we persisted to try and find Viren and Claudia. Unfortunately, we are coming back empty-handed.

I stop climbing for a moment to catch my breath looking at her “Hey. I’m sure that's not the case, despite our leaving they are still our friends I'm sure they will understand once we explain our reasonings.” I tell her with a small grin

“Even Callum?” she asks me with an unsure expression

“Yeah, knowing him you will be fine,” I respond with a chuckle

That was 2 days ago

things didn't go as planned. we arrived slipping inside the castle I went straight to the kitchen and Rayla to the fancy new high mage office to see Callum, and the next morning when she met me outside to go to the Welcoming of Queen Zubeia and Zym she told me all about it, to say the least, it sounded awkward and I'm happy I didn't have to bare witness with my own eyes to that interaction. Then of course when everyone was having a nice peaceful time the news came, in the form of ibis’s last breath. And we made haste to Xadia

. We waited in the storm spire for the others to arrive. when I see the magical-looking glass that made them fall behind I get a horrible feeling of deja vu and have to steady myself to not lose my balance. As I see my reflection in it next to the others a strong feeling of dread and guilt overwhelm every sense I have. As I listen to the story Zubeia tells, I can't help but feel it's familiar in some way. But before I can take too much time to dwell on things a roar sounds from the throat of the mighty queen of dragons as she calls upon a storm to block us from the sun's view, as the light fades a new glow replaces it as the Mirror replaces its view of us all with a rather lavish room and a rather surprised looking startouched elf.

Seeing him froze me. Not from fear but from the fact that he was so familiar, and the way his gaze circled the room, and when his eyes turned to me he looked at me with sheer Hatred. With a wave of his hand, Callum started choking and dropped to the floor. None of us could think we were all stuck but Rayla was able to speak. and she held her hand out with uncertainty, “Callum-” she began to ask before his head snapped towards her his eyes black as a void. Aaravos waves his hand once more behind the mirror and Callum begins to stand jerking like a puppet on strings. We all take a step back, Once Callum stands fully his movements smoothen up once again and he stares into the mirror blankly his eyes turning into an iridescent white. Aaravos then smirks, and so does Callum.

Moments pass and Callum's possessed body paces back and forth his head facing down and his hands tucked neatly behind his back as we look on at the scene with disturbed and confused faces. None of us know what to do in the moment, And none of us dare take a step. That is until Ezren attempts to step toward his brother, Not getting more than an inch before Soren places a hand in front of him stopping the young king from stepping closer, suddenly Callum’s body turns to face Queen Zubeia, raising his head with a smirk on his face and a voice that's not his own “Zubeia~ you haven't aged a bit you look as Young, and ravishing as the day you betrayed me.” Zubeia huffs angrily a cloud of smoke escaping from her nostrils, as he continues speaking “So sorry to hear of your mate's untimely, and tragic passing.” He mocks before Aaravos turns Callum, his meat puppet to face the rest of us.

“So these Are the champions you've gathered to try and stop me? They are nothing but pathetic children.” he chuckles a bit before approaching Ezren and looking down at him

“The whining child king who is way over his head,” he leans down a bit “and he knows it.” Ezren looks down and I place a hand on his shoulder pulling him back as I draw my sword and raise it to Callum's possessed body. Aaravos sighs, raising Callum's hand and using two fingers to move the tip of my blade aside with an eye roll “I'll get to you later.” he sneers before turning and walking up to Rayla getting in her face a bit with a mocking grin “ahh the Moonshadow assassin who- can this be right” he turns his head away from her for a moment before looking her right in the eyes “is incapable of killing?” he lingers for a moment before turning away from her, as he turns Rayla looks down with a frown and I take as step forward Ezren stopping me as Soren did him moments prior, i look down at him and frown but take step back nonetheless.

Callum's possessed body approaches Soren “the failed son,” he says with a condescending grin as Soren looks on with Frustration “whose father wishes he was never born. And finally You.” He snaps his head towards me with a twitch as he approaches me quickly placing the palm of his hand under my chin and curling his fingers up, Digging his fingers into my cheeks harshly and pulling me closer to him, I attempt to use my arm to smack his hand off of me but before my hit can make contact he grabs my arm with his freehand and hold it in the air cutting off my circulation as I let out a muffled scream of frustration and pain. He lets out a dark chuckle “And you.” he repeats as he flashes me a chilling grin

“Aaravos stop this, She doesn't remember anything!” Zubeia jumps in with a snarl.

Aaravos makes Callum's body turn to face the Dragon queen just slightly, not releasing his grip on my face or wrist in fact he tightens them. “ You think I don't know that!” he snaps at her before looking back at me “But have no worries I'll make her remember,” he says his sickening smile returning, As I struggle in his grasp.

I feel like a mouse caught by the tail in a cat's mouth, squirming and writhing to escape. The thing is even though the mouse is aware its attempts are unlikely to make any sort of difference in the outcome of this unfortunate circumstance. It believes it might as well make life a tad more annoying for the cat before it's devoured.

“Remember what?” I attempt to shout, it's quite difficult and it comes out muffled but he still chuckles darkly, letting me know he understood every bit.

“Why how about I just show you,” he smirks disturbingly as he releases my wrist and raises his hand, his palm glows with a blue light. Even before the blood can return to my hand I start fighting to escape his grip as he attempts to place his hand on my forehead, but no matter how much I kick and scream and punch at him he doesn't budge. eventually wrestling me to the ground.

it feels like a snake that wraps its victims in its tail, strangling them to death. But this snake has no tail just hands the hands of my dear friend that He uses as a flesh puppet for his bidding,

In my last attempts at fighting, I catch a glimpse of the others. I see Rayla jump forward with her blades drawn only for Soren to grab her with both arms and keep her still. As I look back up at Callum the last thing I see isn't even him anymore, all I see is Aaravos and blue light as he places his palm on my forehead.

The feeling of burning is almost funny because blue is normally seen as a cold and calming color yet the magic that it uses burns, it burns a lot. it burns so hot that I think my flesh could seer off the bone, I scream in agony as scenes flash before my eyes. Fading in and out and then in again before I feel my consciousness slip away and blue light engulfs my vision. One of the last things I feel is my face being released and the stinging pain of it. The last thing I hear is a dark chuckle, and a crack as I hear my head hit the hard stone.

[supernotnatural2005]

Prompt Game - Dean Winchester’s B’day edition. 🎉

This is my take on @jollyhunter ‘s prompt game. I think it was a wonderful and fun concept and just had to partake! I highly recommend you read her section first. This is the continuation of the story. I hope you enjoy 🤗❤️

AN: Reposting this because i wasn’t sure how was best to post this, but i feel this way is easier to navigate.

"Hey, sleepyhead, wake up. Looks like we need to huddle up for the night."….

You stirred awake at Dean's touch, blinking groggily as your head tilted toward him. His soft smile melted into something teasing when he noticed your disoriented expression.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, princess," Dean quipped, pulling his hand back to grip the steering wheel. "We're outta luck.No vacancies."

You groaned, stretching out the best you could in the cramped backseat. "You've got to be kidding. Not even one room?"

Dean shook his head, lips twitching in mild amusement at your plight. "Afraid not. Looks like we're roughin' it tonight."

You leaned back against the seat, stifling a groan. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go. Not at all.

You had been hoping for a hot shower after the mud-soaked hunt from hell and, more importantly, a little privacy with Dean. It had been too long since you'd had a moment alone with him, and you'd been looking forward to... well, treating him properly for his birthday.

Instead, here you were, stuck in Baby with no privacy, no hot water, and no plan. It was enough to make you want to scream. But instead, you sighed, resigned to the circumstances. For now, anyway.

"Dean, at least pull over somewhere where we won't get a ticket," you muttered. "If we're sleeping in the car, I don't want to wake up to a cop banging on the window."

Dean gave you a look through the rearview mirror that screamed really? but turned the wheel anyway, steering Baby off the main road and into a quiet lot near an old gas station.

The place was deserted, save for a flickering neon “open" sign hanging in the window. He killed the engine and twisted around to face you.

"Well, this is as good as it's gonna get. Time to get cozy."

Sam stepped out of the car briefly, stretching his legs, and used the opportunity to grab some blankets from the trunk before returning.

Meanwhile, Dean turned to you with a smirk as he climbed over the bench seat, nearly kneeing you in the process.

"Move over, sweetheart. I'm not as young as l used to be."

"You're 31, Dean. Not 81," you shot back, shoving him lightly as you shifted to make room.

"Still, I don't bend like I used to," he grumbled, half-joking as he tried to manoeuvre himself into a comfortable position.

The space was tight, and between his broad shoulders and your equally determined attempts to claim some room, it turned into an awkward wrestling match.

"Ow-Dean, that's my leg!"

"Well, maybe your leg's in the wrong place!" he fired back, clearly amused despite the situation.

Sam's voice drifted from the front seat, laced with dry humour. "You two done back there? Some of us would like to get some sleep."

Dean rolled his eyes, laying the blanket Sam had offered over you both, and finally settled into the seat beside you with a dramatic huff.

"Goodnight, Sammy."

"Goodnight, lovebirds," Sam quipped, leaning his head against the window and shutting his eyes.

You let out a frustrated sigh, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at the empty space where privacy used to live.

Dean turned to you, raising an eyebrow at your sudden shift in mood. “What's with the attitude?" he asked softly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Sam.

His hand rested on your hip under the blanket, his thumb rubbing soft circles on the small patch of skin exposed.

You hesitated, biting your lip. You didn't want to come off as ungrateful or selfish, but the words tumbled out anyway.

"It's just... I was really hoping for a room tonight."

Dean frowned slightly. "Yeah, me too. I could use a real bed."

"That's not exactly what I meant." You looked at him pointedly, rolling over so you were facing him, watching as understanding dawned in his eyes.

His lips quirked into that familiar smirk, the one that made your stomach flip.

"Oh," he drawled, leaning closer so his voice was just a whisper. "You wanted to give me my birthday present."

"Yeah," you admitted, your cheeks warming. “It's been a while, Dean. I just... I wanted tonight to be special."

Dean chuckled, low and warm, his breath brushing against your cheek.

"You're somethin' else, you know that? Only you could make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world, even when we're stuck in the backseat of my car."

His words made your heart flutter, and for a moment, the frustration melted away. You leaned into him, letting your forehead rest against his as his hand found yours in the dim light.

"Happy birthday, Dean," you whispered.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he murmured back, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "Guess we'll just have to make up for it when we finally get a room."

"Or, we can have a little fun here. Real throwback—high school make-out session?" You whispered, grinning cheekily.

Dean's eyes widened, alight with the challenge and riskiness. You pressed closer, sliding your hand around his neck and through his short strands as you pulled him into a slow but heated kiss.

Before it could escalate, Sam groaned dramatically from the front seat, his voice muffled but clearly annoyed. "Please, for the love of God, Don't."

Dean stifled a laugh, his green eyes twinkling as he pulled you closer.

"Only messing with you, Sammy. I think we've scared you enough already." You giggled, snuggling further into Dean's warmth.

It wasn't the night you'd planned, but as you nestled against Dean, the sound of his heartbeat steady beneath your ear, you decided it wasn't so bad after all.

AN: There we have it. It’s short and sweet, but i hope i’ve done the continuation justice @jollyhunter 😅

Dean Winchester Tag List: @bettystonewell , @lyarr24 , @nancymcl

[pixeldistractions]

Jordan had been distracted since Maria and JoJo came to join his adventure. He had skipped more climbing sessions than he wanted to admit. But now that they were settled, it was time to pick up the slack. “Go climb, my love,” Maria told him. “You’re not quitting this thing on my behalf. Isn’t it the whole reason we’re here?”

Another bonus was the free family passes to the park, already bought and paid for as part of his climbing package.

“So you guys check out the park. Nessa will show you everything, and I’ll meet up with you later for dinner.”

Jordan was quite proud of the skewers he’d grilled for the group tonight. It was his turn to make dinner for climb club after hours.

So Maria met Nessa by the pool, and the kids enjoyed the warm, heated water. In November now, the dry northern desert took a sharp turn for winter. They didn’t stay in the water for long, especially in the late hours of evening when the heat of the day dispersed quickly. They were happy for as long as they were submerged, but quickly after, they had to get dressed and moving again to keep warm.

Maria took an instant liking to Nessa, a woman ten years her senior and so accomplished and cultured in life. Maria couldn’t help but feel a little star-struck, but Nessa was so welcoming and easy to talk to, and she never made Maria feel inferior for anything—not finishing college, not having a career, not living in a proper home with her daughter. In fact, she even took an interest in Maria’s hobbies and music, and it felt genuine, too.

Meanwhile, they were also pleasantly surprised at how well Johanna and the boys got along.

With the children playing nicely, they went to check in on the guys.

Jordan’s training had been fragmented by travel, but the last task on his to-do list was to attempt the medium wall. There were only three weeks left in this climbing session before they broke for winter. If he didn’t make this attempt now, he might as well start over from scratch in the spring. And that sounded demoralizing. So he gave it a shot.

It was challenging in the best way. Jordan was meticulous and careful, and he did great, surprising even himself!

He reveled in his success for a moment, then he started his equally meticulous descent.

That was where Maria found him, dangling from the highest point of the cliff face, one-handed, swinging his body from one handhold to another.

She heard her mother’s voice in her head, Oh, God, she’s going to be a widow again!

“I know, right?” Nessa said, “I think it’s better not to watch.”

When he reached the bottom, Maria didn’t have to explain what she was thinking. Her face said it all. Perhaps he should have gotten her used to the little wall first.

“Hey, I have an idea,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

“Is it up there?”

“It is, but we can take the stairs.”

— “boxes and squares #5.2: come down from the clouds” (7/10)

note: she was so upset by the climbing, she didn’t even notice the bee, lol!

Funny story about their sims, in gameplay, they can talk about almost anything and everything, but if he tries to talk to her about rock climbing, half the time she doesn’t like it and gives up negatives and the conversation sometimes turns sour. She doesn’t have a dislike for it in her preferences. Maybe it’s the squeamish trait? But if not that, I can only conclude that she dislikes the risk and worries about him getting hurt.

Climb club stats: Maya 8, Darren 6, Kristoff 6, Tyler 5, Jack 5, and Jordan 3! (Jordan is the runt of the litter, but he’s doing so good, lol! Remembering that Jordan and Jack are newbies this season, and the others have done this before.)

Next -> // 5.2 start // index

[wiltedflowerpetals]

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On this day, many things happened. Phoenix lost his title of King of Flirting and gained a new one, while you finally won a game against him.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Words: 2053

Warning: No warnings.... maybe fluff?

Part 1 - Part 2

A/N: My first story on this account (and after a long time not writing anything)! *getting nervous again* It’s also my first time writing for Phoenix… I also tried to write a small drabble, but I guess, I couldn’t stop writing. I’m so sorry! I hope that you all like it and have a great day! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

You were sitting on the couch, Phoenix beside you, while your fingers rapidly press on the buttons of the controller in your hand. If only Brim and Gekko knew that you nearly smashed the controller against the TV, they would never let you touch their gaming console ever again…

But of course, your thoughts told you to do so, after all, you got a bit stressed and annoyed by the fact that you lost again against your friend Phoenix. The button smashing-technique was a fruitless attempt to win, but without success, as you have lost the fiftieth time. Maybe you should stop competing against one-another, but you were too stubborn and just wanted to win.

The screen lights up. ‘YOU LOSE’ was written on your side of the screen in red. Phoenix’s win… Again.

“Ooh! I won!” Phoenix bragged again, ruffling your hair with his hands. “What’s my streak again, mh?” He smirks at you.

“Well… Better luck next time, (Y/N). Just give up. I will always win.”

You pouted at him, turning your face towards the radiant, as you pointed with your finger at his face. “Ohhh, I will win next time. Don't you worry your cute head about it.”

Phoenix playfully rolled his eyes, a smirk on his face as you pointed your finger to his face, unbothered by this action.

“Aww, is someone a sore loser?” The fire radiant teased, crossing his arms.

“You’ve been saying that for the past fifty games now.” Phoenix chuckled, shaking his head. “You never learn, do you?”

“What?! So not true!" You poked his nose. "It wasn’t fifty! I’m sure of it! And I’m not a sore loser! I just wanted you to win because…. Uhm… I’m nice?” You grinned at him as sweet and innocent as one could ever do.

Phoenix’s eyes widened for a brief moment, his lips curling into a large smirk as you poke his nose. He lets out a laugh, bringing his hand up to swat yours away. “Hey, hey-“

The duelist lets out a small huff. “Nice, right. How generous of you!”

“You’re welcome.” You chuckled.

“You’re such a sore loser.” He lets out another chuckle, as your grin faded. “But yeah, you were right. It wasn’t fifty games; I’ve won at least a hundred now. So sweet of you for letting me win that often.”

Annoyed, you groaned and raised both of your hands to his cheeks to pull on them. “Noooo! Maybe like ten games! Not hundred! You silly boy!”

Phoenix lets out a whine as you pull at his cheeks, pouting playfully.

“Hey-“ He protested, his cheeks being squished by your hands. “I thought you were nice! That stings, you know?” He said with an exaggerated huff.

“I am! Look at me.” You pointed at yourself. “Sweet and nice. Like an angel!”

“Oh yeah? Sweet and nice like an angel, huh?” Phoenix repeated your words, before the corner of his lips turned up. “Psh, more like an agent of chaos.” He teased and poked this time you on your nose.

You scoffed, before you grabbed his finger to softly bite on it. “Agent of peace and innocence and friendliness, more likely, my dear Phoenix.”

“Ow! Hey, don’t do that, that hurts-“ Phoenix yelped, feigning a wince as you bit his finger.

You rolled your eyes. He was such a crybaby. He pulled back, shaking his hand with a playful hmph. “More like an agent of annoyance and recklessness. You’re always making me chase after you.”

“Oh, come on. That was like a soft nibble. That could never hurt.” You shook your head until you realized what he said after. “Wait, what….? Chase me?” You asked him a little bit confused, while Phoenix glanced at his finger that you had nibbled on.

“Yeah sure, it didn’t hurt. It-“ Phoenix suddenly stops, realizing that he’d been caught in his own trap.

He lets out a small huff. “You’re changing the topic.”

The radiant rolled his eyes. “And yeah, you’re constantly making me chase you around. Be it on the battlefield, or at work, or even in these games we play.” He let out, slightly pouting.

“What? Sweet ol' me would never change the topic, my dear.” You tried to say with a british accent to sound like your dear friend, but failed as you could not do it at all. The black-haired man couldn’t help but snort softly upon hearing your attempt at a British accent, clearly amused by the failed attempt.

“Sweet ol’ you.” He chuckled. “You can’t do that type of accent.”

You only chuckled, before asking him; “Why would you want to chase me? I never did anything… Remember. Sweet and innocent.”

Phoenix paused for a moment, brown eyes staring at yours while thinking. “I mean— can you blame me for going after a hot mess like yourself?”

Your cheeks reddened, as you glanced down, trying not to smile from ear to ear at his words. “Ahh…. Okay…. Cool, cool, cool….” You whispered under your breath, embarrassed at your own reaction and words you just had uttered out.

The radiant couldn’t help but notice your obvious redness in your cheeks from his words, a smirk growing on his face.

“Awww-“ He teased, finding your flustered reaction just adorable.

“You’re blushing, love.” He said, ruffling your hair as an attempt to tease you further.

“Heey, stop it!” You swatted his hands off of your head, as he chuckled at your attempt. “And I’m not blushing.”

“You sure are adorable when you get all flustered like this-“ He continued to ruffle your hair despite the protests. “Come on, you were blushing!” He said, grinning. “All because I said you were hot?”

“Noo!” You definitively lied, while you rolled your (e/c) eyes at him. “Also-“ You pointed at him again. “Why aren‘t we talking about you? And your sweet words. Let’s analyze them. If you think that I’m a hot mess than it means…. That you are into me?”

Phoenix chuckled as you turned away, your reaction just further entertaining him. He tilted his head as you suddenly pointed at him, his smirk widening further.

“Oh wow, are you just realizing this now?” Phoenix said, his voice slightly teasing. He took a step closer to you.

“You’re just now noticing that the King of Flirting has been flirting with you this entire time?”

“If I realize it that late, then it only means that the King of Flirting well… sucks at flirting.” You laughed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Ohhh, you did not just say that.” The black-haired radiant lets out, raising an eyebrow at your mockery. His smirk widened, clearly amused by your words.

“The King of Flirting sucks at flirting?” Phoenix chuckled, taking another step closer. “What, are you looking to take my crown, love?”

“Ohhh please! I already have your crown.” You said, petting his cheek.

His eyes widened for a moment, feeling the gentle touch on his cheek. He found your actions surprisingly endearing.

“Oh you do, do you?” Phoenix couldn’t help but chuckle in amusement. “And who gave you my crown, love?”

You raised your hands and pretended to take off an imaginary crown off of his head to put it on yours. “I did.”

A small snort escaped his lips as he witnessed your imaginary crown-taking act, finding it weirdly cute.

“Hm, so you stole my crown.” Phoenix said, his smirk returning. “Shouldn’t the King of Flirting be mad about his crown being stolen?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Who knows?” You chuckled at him and opened the game to sneakily win against him, while you looked at him. “Ohh, wait. I should know it. Because I’m the King/Queen of Flirting now, now that I know that I stole your heart with my bad attempts of flirting.”

Phoenix was so focused on your banter that, for a moment, he didn’t notice that you had reopened the game.

“You-“ He paused as he glanced to the side, where the TV stood, witnessing that you opened it again. “Oh, you naughty little-“

The duelist turned his head back to you, finding himself slightly flustered at your comment about stealing his heart.

“You’re not getting away with that, Prince/Princess.”

“Oh, I will, after all I‘m naughty.” You winked at him. “Also it‘s not prince/princess… I‘m King/Queen of Flirting.” You chuckled and clicked on the game so you can finally start playing.

Phoenix’s eyes widened for a moment, finding you somehow cute while being cocky at the same time.

“Oh yeah, you are.” Phoenix said, shaking his head with a laugh. “You’ve definitely become the King/Queen of Flirting now.” He muttered out the last sentence. The radiant placed his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended with a theatrical gasp.

“But that means I no longer have the title of king, after all this time-“

While he talked, your in-game character gained some points. “Ohh, yeah. But if you want, you can have a new title.”

Even if he had forgotten about the game for a few seconds again, Phoenix still glanced at the screen. His eyes widened as he noticed that you had been playing this whole time, quickly taking the lead.

“Hey, woah, no fair!” Phoenix protested, turning away from you to focus on the game. “That’s cheating, love. You can’t distract me like that.”

“What? I just wanted to win.” You chuckled. “Also… If I really want to distract you, I would have kissed you.”

He found himself blushing at your comment, his cheeks dusted red as he glanced back at you.

“Yeah, you-“ He pauses for a moment, clearly distracted by your words. The fire radiant shakes his head as if to compose himself.

“Wait, wait, you can’t drop that kind of comment and expect me to focus on the game.”

Laughing at him, you asked; “Why not?”

The fire radiant huffed as he glanced back at the game, realizing that you’d pretty much won at this point.

“Because it’s-“ Phoenix trailed off, trying to come up with a good excuse.

His cheeks blushed red once again, this time, more intensely. “I-I- it’s distracting.” He managed to stammer out.

“Wow, I was able to distract you?” I mouthed a "wow" again as you saw a big "WINNER" in green on the screen. Raising your arms in victory, you turned to him with a big grin. “I won!!”

Phoenix couldn’t help but huff once again, his cheeks still red. He crossed his arms and pouted, shaking his head as you celebrated your victory.

“That’s because you were cheating.” The radiant protested, not wanting to admit defeat. “You distracted me on purpose.”

“Awww!” You smiled at him and poked his lips. “Are you pouting? Cute.” I chuckled. “Do you want me to cheer you up, sore loser?”

Phoenix couldn’t help but huff once again, the pout becoming more apparent on his face.

“Am not pouting.” He said in a huffy tone, averting his gaze. “And no, I don’t want you to cheer me up.”

“Alright.” You shrugged and leaned back on the couch. “Then I won‘t cheer you up with a kiss.” You shrugged again.

“-wait, hold on-!“

Phoenix widened his brown eyes, his pout rapidly disappearing from his face. He glanced back at you. His lips parted open briefly, his tone becoming quieter as he spoke. “…with a kiss, you say?”

“Yeah, but I guess you don't want it, right? That’s what you said. Maybe I should kiss someone who wants me to do it…”

Phoenix’s eyes widened further at your words, while his chest tightened, the thought of you kissing someone else suddenly striking a jealous streak in him.

“No, wait, you-“ Phoenix stumbled upon his words, his usual arrogance and confidence suddenly gone. “I didn’t mean it like that….”

You giggled at him. “Gosh, how can you be so damn oblivious?!” You pulled on his jacket so he is closer to you and kissed his lips softly, before you leaned back a bit. “You silly jealous boy.”

Phoenix’s cheeks reddened further as he was now mere inches away from you. He felt his heart begin to speed up as you pulled him closer to you, his confidence slowly returning.

His eyes widened as your lips suddenly connected with his, the radiant quickly closing his eyes and melting into the kiss.

🔖 Taglist: xxx

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Reblogs and comments and a ko-fi are appreciated. ( ‘ω’ ) © nanamisflowerfield/wiltedflowerpetals. Do not repost, rewrite, plagiarize my work.

[monsterloverwriting]

Hey bae if ur reqs are open cause u pls make a part 3 to that demon x reader (demon-visitor) fic u wrote😩😩like what happens after they're binded together

Hello my friend! I am genuinely more than happy to add to this story and I am actually thinking of turning into a full length novel should the want for it arise! I have a lot of ideas for them. In the mean time!

Concept Part 1

Mine

Fem!reader/M!demon, slight mind altering, claiming, MDNI

The week had been long for you. Long and trying as you did your best to make sense of what had happened to you. You tried briefly to forget it, act as if it had been all a nonsensical dream made of some deep desire you weren't consciously aware of. That quickly became impossible as you now had to attempt to hide the two very large bite marks on either side of your neck. Thankfully no one really questioned why silk scarves suddenly became a staple of your summer wardrobe. Part of you hoped they would fade away to nothing, another slightly stronger part wanted them to stay just as they were so you could never forget that night no matter how hard you tried.

Not that you were really trying to forget, the image of the demon littered your mind at every moment, invaded your dreams and often had you waking up needy and wanting to be able to feel his hot skin again. You were constantly reminded how good that night felt to the point that it was almost distracting you from the day to day. Often you would find yourself ripped from the day dream of finding Zed in your small living room just waiting for you to get home, only to be reminded you were at work and most definitely was supposed to reply to that customer with something other than a dizzy nod. It got to the point that your boss convinced himself you were sick and sent you home early on Friday for a long weekend so you could "recoup in peace".

It ended up not being nearly as peaceful as anyone would have thought.

You noticed the smell first, a sickly sweet almost burnt smell that made a bubble of anxiety build in your chest. There was no way you left a candle burning all day was there? You didn't even remember lighting one that morning. You've been so scatter brained lately that that barely mattered anymore. The anxiety quickly reformed when you heard a small crash, glass shattering and a low hum of disapproval.

Before you could even reach for your phone the large, all too familiar figure appeared before you, his height and muscular frame taking up the archway as he gripped the top leaning toward you.

"Welcome home sweet thing."

His smirk was devious as he stretched his arm holding the top of the arch to lean closer to you, his free hand reaching out to gently run one claw tipped finger from the top of your scarf to just under your chin forcing you to look up at him. His eyes searched your face before they fell to the scarf wrapped around your neck. Tutting softly his claw slid down your throat catching the edge of the smooth silk before gently pulling it away from your throat, a wide toothy grin forming as he revealed the marks he'd left on you.

"Hiding my marks? Oh sweet thing you should know better. How is anyone going to be able to tell your mine?" When he said it his voice was so smooth it nearly puts you into a trance. His gaze looking down on you was hungry as he glanced at the marks. Thinking better of yourself. You took a step back away from him trying to gain some distance in the hopes that it would help you clear your mind. It didn't really, but there was only so much you could do when there was an 8 ft tall demon standing in your foyer wearing very little clothes he didn't advance as you stepped back. He simply watched you. He let the silk scarf fall between you. Almost acting as if he was disgusted with it. He did, however, watch you closely.

" I'm not sure what is happening actually. I don't I don't belong to you. I don't belong to anyone. I am a person and you do not get to decide that I belong to you after we have sex once. That's not how it works." You said almost frantically as you saw the grin quickly return to his face, he leaned closer once again his hand reaching out fingers twirling in your hair before he brought it up to his nose taking a deep inhale.

"Oh so once was the issue now I can fix that very easily. Sweet thing. Why don't you tell me exactly what you would want me to do to you and I will make that wish come true to my utmost pleasure."

It was like his presence was intoxicating a very small part of you wanted to tell this demon to get out. Leave your house but there were so many other parts of you screaming to let him do the most unholy things you could possibly imagine. And all of you was absolutely certain that he would get just as much pleasure out of this as you would because you were sure it wouldn't simply stop at him pleasing you. You shook your head resolving yourself for at least this one time to think it through before you decided to fuck the demon.

That could happen later.

"No I want you to explain what you're doing in my house. How you even got here? How you knew where I was and why, why are these still here like this? It's been a week and they haven't healed at all." Bracing yourself against the wall you looked up at him all of your resolve showing clearly as you demanded answers. He seemed to find this amusing and pushed off the door stepping toward you, pinning you to the wall between two strong muscular arms.

" I'm here because I marked you. I marked you because I want you. I want you because you're mine and those will remain there for as long as you are mine. Sweet thing, you're my mate now and you are going to be stuck with me for a very long time." His gravel voice was almost a hum as he leaned down close, his forked tongue flicking out to lick at one of the bites causing your knees to go weak.

You were fucked, in more ways than one.

[thegreatsinnamonroll]

Obligatory Hypnosis Mic Post

Hey it's Emmet back at it again with HypMic posting! Because there's quite a few new fans coming in with both the release of Rhyme Anima+ last year and the expansion of HypMic events to the US, I figured I should explain what the hell is actually going on.

Hypnosis Mic is a multi-media music project created by King Records/Evil Line Records that consists of music, dramatracks, manga, anime, stage plays, live shows, and mobile games. It's target audience is women, though it can appeal to anyone who likes men in general. Before explaining the different forms of media here, there are a few fandom rules we tend to follow. This will be long btw so strap the fuck in.

Shipping wars aren't really a thing here. No seriously, there's 21 main characters and generally speaking any ship goes. With the exception of morally bad (BBcest, most main cast Jiro ships, and all main cast Saburo ships) and morally dubious (Samaichi and Hitojyu) ships, people generally don't care who kisses who. If you see something you don't like, block and move on. HypMic is also a multishipper paradise, so if you like that, welcome!

This is an M rated series for a reason. There are dark and adult topics far and wide, and trying to ignore them doesn't do the characters any justice. Here's a list of various potentially triggering topics that occur in the series: sex trafficking, general violence both with and without weapons, minor body mutilation, extreme manipulation, implied/referenced abuse including S/A, suicide including attempts, drug use and abuse, realistic depictions of PTSD and other mental disorders, lots of familial death, depictions of war and the aftermath, mild transphobia, and bullying.

This series is made for a primarily female audience. If you're a cishet man coming into this bc you think Ichijiku is hot, you will find no community here for you. The women are beautifully crafted characters and will be respected as such. That also being said, people who don't like Honobono are NOT misogynistic. She is designed to be a top tier villain and disliking her is not a bad thing.

We know the lore timeline doesn't make sense. Trust us. We know. Getting into this series means understanding that, being mildly upset about it at any given time, and talking to peers about it.

If I catch ANYONE using character trauma as a JOKE I will fucking find you and that is a promise, especially when it comes to Jyuto, Rio, Dice, Hifumi, and Jyushi. I will get you myself.

With that out of the way, onto the different types of media in this massive thang!

Main Canon

Drama Tracks: These are the primary source of the main Canon lore. These are simply audio tracks of events in HypMic, and they can be found on both YouTube and Spotify. There are translations for all of them on the Internet, but on the official HypMic YouTube and TikTok there are their own translations from the formation of the divisions through the first DRB. All of the lore contained here is what is part of the MAIN CANON, so if you're looking for story its going to be here.

Manga: The manga is an almost 1:1 replica of the drama tracks in a visual format, so the lore from these are going to be part of the main Canon as well. That being said, English speakers will have a difficult time finding any translation of the manga since the fan translations are kept under wraps for Reasons that Make Sense. Additionally, no screenshots of the manga translations are allowed to be made public for the same reasons, so it's incredibly difficult to access. Maybe one day we'll get a translation, but for now, if you're curious about the manga, dm me for more information.

Songs: The main appeal of the series! The absolutely massive discography doesn't have a huge amount of lore or plot relevance, and are instead just there to exist. A good 95% of the whole discography is, in my opinion, really good, but it's also up to taste due to the wide range of genres covered. Some songs that seem to have lore, namely Once Upon a Time in Shibuya, Murder at the House of Magic, and Stella, are actually songs based on Gentaro Yumeno's stories (they're also really good, if you like gay people who outright say they'd be friends in every universe go listen to Stella). Other than that, they exist and are Good™ but not all of them are on Spotify which is the biggest shame in the world.

Live Shows (Not Hypstage)

Hypnama: A weekly Livestream put on by the producers where some of the character seiyuus (voice actors) talk about various things. It's relatively goofy and unserious, though they do talk about upcoming news and merch for the series. It's fun to watch since they all tend to dick around on stage or get thrown into the rice field for enrichment time.

3DCG Lives: These are similar to Vocaloid concerts, where projections of the HypMic characters are animated while singing and doing little talking segments. There are a few of these out and can be found across the Internet, along with translations for them. The animation can be a little clunky at times, but they're a fun watch anyway.

Live Performances: These lives consist of the seiyuus (voice actors) going on stage to do live performances of a set list. There have been ten of these so far, with the discography all the way up through Block Party and RA+. There were also fan meetings recently that were in the same vein. Again these are just live performances of the songs, so no translation is needed!

Rhyme Anima

This segment doesn't need a bulleted list simply because of it only having two seasons. Rhyme Anima is the anime for hypnosis mic, and also has its own lore. I generally don't like recommending RA for new fans despite the fact that it's the easiest way to get into the series, mainly because it's not part of the actual lore and the characterization is...sadly, not great. It's got good songs, and season two has tragic yaoi, but other than that it should not be used as any sort of base for the lore.

Mobile Games

Alternative Rap Battle: Shortened to ARB, this is the legally required music media rhythm game. There's some semblance of story and lore, except it's all the most out there and absurd shit imaginable. None of it is part of the main Canon and the cards are decent, but the sheer ridiculousness of it is kinda worth it. It's not the best gatcha and it's really only for card collecting but the card art is available online if that's what you're interested in.

Dream Rap Battle: Also known as Hypdori, this is the newest game that came out. Once again the lore isn't part of the main story, but there is more of an actual story there this time. The gatcha is. Worse. But the gameplay is different and once again the cards are available online. Both of these games are only available in Japan, so you'll want a VPN or use the Qooapp (which is what I use).

Rule the Stage

Old Gen: There are two generations of Rule the Stage, which are the HypMic stageplays. Often just referred to as Hypstage, these shows have their own lore and canon. There are DRBs like in the main Canon, though there are different winners than the ones for the main story. Admittedly the focus isn't exactly the other DRBs, but instead the additional five divisions and 14 new characters, as well as the stories attached to them. There's even a cult following for these new characters who are collectively referred to as "Original Divisions" or Oridivis. There are five tracks with original stories, as well as BB vs DH, BAT vs MTR, and FP vs MTC. Each division also has a Rep Live with new songs and skits. The cast of the old gen of Hypstage all graduated last year, paving the way for the new gen. (That being said at least one of the old gen oridivis is coming back this July. So.)

New Gen: The new generation of Hypstage is still picking up and only has done three shows, but they're already proving themselves with absolutely outstanding stories. New Encounter was a retelling of the second DRB, Renegades of Female was a stageplay that centered entirely around the women of Chuuoku and the impact of the H Age, and Grateful Cypher was an interesting story around a group that were trying to make their way in the world without mics. There are also new gen oridivis, though as of right now we haven't heard anything insofar from them since Grateful Cypher. If I keep talking about Hypstage this post will be even longer, so I have to cut myself off but I am in fact one of the cult followers of Oridivi.

Wow this post was long but I hope this is helpful to anyone interested in the other medias of HypMic! Leave questions in the notes and I'll do my best to reply to them, thank you for reading!

[viburnt]

Heyyy loved your Izuku story, made me want to request one with the prompt "How could I do that to him/her?" Maybe someone is flirting with adult Izuku but he already has a partner and is very loyal OR maybe having an interview where the host makes a joke/insinuation he should go and take advantage that he is famous to meet many more people

Whatever you prefer 💖thank you

I hope I managed to convey the feelings you expected, Anon! Have some loyal dog Izuku *smooch* Also Pro-hero!Izuku is a smart crowd pleaser, he knows how to play his cards and outsmart malicious people. Also you didn't specify any gender so I went with gender neutral.

-Viburnt

𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 || 𝐓.𝐕 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬

— Welcome, everyone! Today, we're here with Japan's latest big shot and number one pro-hero, Deku! We are so excited that you were able to have some time for us, darling.— The model serving as a hostess said, her body language exaggerated, and her outfit provocative to gauge higher ratings for the show.

Izuku hadn't really planned to participate in the program, but after you convinced him to do so, he agreed; you'd always supported his career, so you encouraged him to engage with his fans often.

Izuku just wished it had been with a less slimy host, feeling uncomfortable with the frequent lascivious looks the model would throw at him.

—Thank you for having me.— The man said with his classic charming smile. —It's a pleasure to be here with you guys.

—Say, Deku, you've become quite an icon lately. Your popularity is almost as high as mine!— The woman joked, eliciting a slight laugh from the live public. —Have you grown used to being a groundbreaker?

Midoriya bashfully looked at her, feeling her eyes checking him out from head to toe as she spoke.

—Well, the hero life is a difficult path, I have to admit that.— He started, trying to formulate an answer that would suffice. —But it's something I love, and I'm trying to be the best at it.

The model nodded in understanding, allowing her hand to roam to the muscles of his arm.

—Absolutely! We are very alike in that aspect, you know?— She commented, giving a slight squeeze to his biceps. It was getting on Izuku's nerves. —It wouldn't be too far-fetched to be together as a couple.— He heard her say with a wink, the audience having mixed reactions to her blatant flirting.

—Don't you think we'd make a picture-perfect power couple?

Midoriya felt disgust towards the hostess, feeling overwhelmed by her constant indecency. "Talk about basking in reflected glory," he thought, wishing he could get away from her.

—Haha, well, I appreciate your interest, but I'm afraid I'm not available.— He answered with an unfaltering grin; even if it hadn't been long since he had first debuted as a pro-hero, he'd learnt a thing or two about managing his looks while facing the public eye.

The model pouted, pressing the matter even more.

— Just think of the headlines! We could be an 'it' couple.— She added to her desperate attempt to convince him. —Besides, wouldn't you prefer to change your old partner for a brand new model? You'd be the envy of your colleagues.

The public awkwardly laughed at the hostess' behavior. It was funny the first time, they'd guessed, but after a while, it just felt uncomfortable– Even they could sense the uneasiness in Izuku through his charismatic facade.

—How could I do that to them?— Midoriya answered, shaking his head. —I love my partner; they are the best. I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world.

A loud wave of clapping and cheering soared after his answer, moved by the vulnerability and sweetness behind those words. Izuku swore he'd heard a man scream "I love you" at him.

—Hey, baby, if you are watching the show like you promised, wait for me for dinner.— Izuku said to one of the cameras, referring to you as he took his leave from the scene.

For a few weeks, the whole interview fiasco had spread on every social media platform, but every single post had one thing in common: they all agreed that Izuku was loyal to you.

[gutsby]

Sorry in advance, English is not my first language! I'm so in love with your writing and I'm in awe at your brilliant, sick sick mind (affectionately) I feel true kinship here. Your blog is home. I eat everything up you're giving us and it only leaves me more and more greedy for your writing. What can I say, I'm just a big big fan!!

I also feel like I can trust you with my imagine, it is as much of a request as it is simply an idea for you to use or not use however you like or just react and share your thoughts. No pressure at all, my love. ..but I have many MANY story ideas and ironically enough, imagining dark!Joel scenarios makes me fall asleep faster but I wouldn't dare dream of ever reading any of them in a story. That seems to good to be true. For a long time I've been kinda obsessed with the idea of a sleazy trailer park Joel and trailer park princess. Age gap, of course. Creepy ball scratching, smoking, wife-beater wearing Joel. Yum.

Ok, the plot: Reader grew up as the child of a single mother and you were always poor but you're sensitive and observant but bullied in high school, so you simply dropped out one day and your future doesn't seem too promising. At least nothing much beyond this trailer park. Your weird (and mutual) fascination with Joel Miller won't change either until you hear that his contracting business finally took off and he was able to build a real house. Something you can only dream of. For Joel and his sick, twisted logic, this is all he needed to be able to secure what he really wanted. You. That was the plan all along, somehow get you pregnant and leave you no other choice but to be dependent on him. These damn unfortunate Texan abortion laws. Hey, in his own way, he does really want to offer you a "better" life but hon, he's just a bit of an old-fashioned scumbag and a sexist, if you ask me.

Well, one day, when you thought he'd already left, you check out the inside of his abandoned trailer. You snoop around a little, Joel would never find out. ONLY HE CATCHES YOU! Boom, he fucks you breeding kink style "You're gonna be a good little wife, will ya?" A bit of coaxing there, a bit of bribery or manipulation here or dare I say grooming (a young adult) and oh nooo he indeed gets you pregnant! Oh nooooo heheheh. Filth aside, everything is exactly going according to Joel's plan. Your mom finds out you're pregnant and yeah, threatens to throw you out. Also she does want to rip Joel's head off but he promises he will marry you, give you a home, a house. Did he ask you? Nah. Great, now your mom also thinks your only options are to either be a single mom in poverty, defo not gonna leave this trailer park now like... ever or become sleazy Joel's wife who has this lovely little housewife kink. Bonus points if he's trying to be sweet but fails miserably and only attempts to respect you again when the sun comes up. GOSH, I loove a good housewife kink with drama HELLO, welcome to my brain!!!

THIS IS TAKING ME OOOUUUUUUTTT (in a great way). First off, I love you. Thank you for reading and enjoying my fics! 🥺❤️ Secondly, this is an INSANELY COOL idea, and I’m amazed at all the detail you’ve given to paint this picture of Joel.

From how you’ve described it, this sounds like an even darker/sleazier version of my one shot Easy to Please! Joel owns the trailer park Reader lives in in that one, and she pays him in sexual favors when she can’t make rent. Big imbalance of resources/power between them, and she basically relies on him to keep a roof over her head.

I am IN LOVE (!!!) with the housewife kink and having Joel become a caregiver/breadwinner/domineering protector with insane control issues. I’d love to explore a darker Joel like that. Since the Joel I wrote in ETP isn’t characterized in quite that way, I might try and toy with the setting. Maybe write something where Reader is reliant on him for other reasons - or she’s cornered into the relationship another way.

This could also fit the bill for a sequel to Cabin Fever honestly LOL. I think it’d be super fun to write something where Joel’s your captor and actively trying to knock you up to keep you all to himself and Reader’s just like no ❤️ and trying to escape every chance she gets until there’s some kind of fucked up breakthrough between them. idk!! You’ve given me a lot to think about and I’d love to incorporate this dynamic into a story somehow - tysm again for sharing and being so sweet 🥹💓💓

[starwarsmum]

My first Timari fic! Gonna be one long one, 31 chapters of the same story 😵‍💫 if I manage to finish it

@maribat-calendar-events

Robin strode leisurely through the halls of the WatchTower, greeting Superboy as he entered the meeting room. At twenty, he was no longer a part of Young Justice, but a full member of the Justice League.

And today, they were due to meet a new team from France and Tim was excited. It wasn't often they got new people joining the Justice League, and it was his understanding that they were roughly his own age, give or take a year.

Checking the time, he realised he had just long enough to grab a cup of coffee before the meeting. He went through the motions of setting it up, putting in fresh grounds to the machine he'd forced Bruce to buy for the communal break room. Once he had a full cup, he turned back to the door only to crash into someone.

The carefully crafted mug of coffee dropped and shattered on the floor, the liquid splashing back on him. The woman in front of him exclaimed in dismay, a stream of French apologies streaming from her mouth.

“Hey, it's no big deal,” Tim said, attempting to soothe her. When she turned her face up towards him he was blown away by wide blue eyes. His brain faltered and she panicked further, apologizing again but in English. “Really, I can get another cup. Are you one of the new heroes from France?”

“Oh, yes, um, hello! Call me Ladybug,” she said, voice squeaking a little. It shouldn't have been as cute as it was. “Here, I can help make us both a cup.”

They worked together in silence, Tim nervously wondering what else he could say to her. When they had their cups they walked together to the meeting room still not saying a word.

_ _ _

Marinette was nervous about joining the Justice League. She had been trying to stay out of the spotlight for so long - keeping Paris as meta free as possible, tracking down a second Hawkmoth, keeping her identity as safe as possible - that stepping into it now was nothing short of terrifying.

The big three had been fairly welcoming, Wonder Woman and Superman more so than Batman, but that was expected. She hadn't expected there to be quite so many younger heroes milling around - Chat Noir had instantly hit it off with Nightwing and it was turning into a Nightmare - and it made her feel even more scrutinised. 

So when she was given a chance to escape the hubbub of the meeting room, and to get coffee no less, she took it. She managed to escape everyone and made a beeline for the break room she had been pointed towards, hardly looking up.

So it wasn't really a surprise when she ran headfirst into someone. She did feel bad when a mug shattered and glorious coffee flew everywhere. She started apologising immediately, her anxiety hitting new heights as she assumed she was going to be kicked out before even being inducted properly.

Then the man she crashed into said something in English and she glanced up at him, prepared to grovel when she saw that it was one of Batman's associates. Yep, she was so getting ejected from the WatchTower, maybe literally. She started apologising more, in English this time, in hopes that he would be lenient.

“Really, I can get another cup,” the man assured her, sounding concerned for her. She finally managed to stop groveling, her hands stilling from their anxious flapping. “Are you one of the new heroes from France?”

“Oh, yes, um, hello! Call me Ladybug.” Merde, could she sound any more unprofessional? She needed to claw this back somehow. “Here, I can help make us both a cup.”

Perfect! Now she just had to spend more time with this man that probably thought she was insane at best and incompetent at worst! The only small mercy was that she managed to shut her mouth to let him fill the silence. Which he didn't do. She hadn't thought it was possible for this to get more awkward.

The silence followed them back to the meeting room until she managed to scurry back over to her team and he went over to Batman. God, she hoped he wasn't telling Batman to make her leave, because that would suck.

Somehow, she got through the induction without being sent away. Even more miraculously, Batman stopped by the group after they'd ended the meeting to tell them that he was looking forward to working with them all. She breathed a sigh of relief and dared to hope that everything was going to go smoothly from here on out.

_ _ _

“So, what did you think of the WatchTower?” Alya asked when they were safely back in their two bed apartment. Marinette glanced over to where she was pouring a glass of wine for her and sighed. “Wow, don't overwhelm me with your enthusiasm there, girl! Don't tell me that pun war that Chat and Nightwing got into was all that bad?”

“Oh my God, don't remind me,” Marinette groaned, burying her head in her hands. “But no, that's not what I was thinking about.”

“Didn't you end up talking to Robin earlier? I thought you were looking forward to meeting heroes our age out there.”

“Yeah, but I had a total klutz moment and ruined his coffee,” Marinette mumbled into her hands. “I was so scared that he was going to kick me out that I couldn't concentrate on the meeting at all. He probably thinks I'm a total lunatic now.”

“I doubt it's that bad,” Alya said, trying to keep her laughter in. “Besides, it looked like you both had coffee when you came into the meeting?”

“Yes, but it was the most awkward thing in the world. I said sorry, like, a million times and then we made coffee in silence. You know how I have that thing where I cannot be normal when I'm anxious? Because that's what happened.”

“I bet it won't be that awkward next time?” Alya said, wincing when Marinette crumpled into a ball. Marinette could feel the pity radiating from her best friend and wondered if it was too soon to give up being the guardian so she could lose all of her memories of that day.

[maladaptivewriting86]

Welcome Home - September Ch1

Eddie Munson x Reader, friends to lovers, slow burn

Also posted on ao3! This is part 1!

Summary: Reader has moved to a new city/state every few months since she was born. She shows up to Hawkins in '85 having to repeat her senior year after learning nothing last year due to changing schools 3 times.

Eddie is repeating his senior year as well, lucky for him. He meets reader in class two weeks into the year and is immediately drawn to her due to her I-don't-care attitude and her Metallica t-shirt.

The two hang out often, studying, drinking, smoking, and healing their respective traumas. But how long does reader have before her dad announces that they're packing up and leaving Hawkins forever, leaving Eddie and the new friends she's made behind forever?

Reader uses she/her pronouns but is non-binary. The term didn't exist in the 80s so she describes it as "I'm only vaguely a girl, you shouldn't really think of me as one."

Reader is AFAB, there will be references to anatomy (smut), but for the most part, she's not really "girly".

AU, the upside down doesn't exist, Eleven and Will aren't mentioned (sorry).

CW for this chapter: mentions of parents with substance abuse issues

AN: This is absolutely just self-insert for me but I really like it and maybe it will be relatable to a small number of people or just entertaining, I don't know. But thanks for reading either way!

I'm planning on each chapter being somewhere between a day to a week of in-story time. Some might be super long and others kinda short, I'm not sure. This is my very first work that I've ever written so I have no idea how its going to work. Each month will have its own chapters (all contained here in this one work) and the story will just kinda flow through the months that reader is in Hawkins. Bear with me, this all might change at some point haha. I have a lot of ideas though as this is literally just my maladaptive daydreams put to paper. Eddie makes my brain melt. Enjoy!

Walking out of the school office with your class schedule in your hand you sigh, taking in the new surroundings once again. This is the eighth high school you've been to in the past four years, and the second time you've been a senior in one of them. After moving three times last year and missing so much of your first senior year, you had to start from scratch in a new school, Hawkins High. Pretty boring to name a school after the city, but you've seen it done so many times that you don't give a shit anymore. Just as long as this is your last one.

The receptionist in the office had pointed you in the direction of your assigned locker and handed you a sticky note with the combination on it. Memorizing the numbers on the gross-yellow paper, you head in the direction she told you to go. 982, 983, 984, 985... 986. That was yours. You stop in front of it and rest your head on the door as you look down and turn the lock in the correct order. You had no faith that this year would be your last, you already accepted that if you couldn't finish high school on your second attempt, then you would just drop out and figure out what to do after that. School is fucking tiring.

The bell rang to signal change of classes and students began to flood the hall. Already missed the first period and study hall, off to a great start. As you pop the lock open and step back a little to open the door, a solid body slams into your side and a book goes sliding down the corridor.

"Hey, watch it freak!" The body yells at you.

You turn to look at who just walked into you. It was a girl with platinum blonde hair in a super high ponytail; a cheerleader uniform; and her tits on full display, absolutely breaking the dress code.

"Sorry, didn't realize you liked to walk with your eyes closed." You grumbled as you rolled your eyes and turned back to your locker, beginning to unload your binders from your bag. She walked into you , that was definitely not your fault.

"What?" She snapped. She took a few steps to the side so that she was right next to you continuing to stare at the side of your face, and at your Metallica shirt, and your ripped black jeans, and dirty shoes. She instantly clocked you as someone who was beneath her so she narrowed her eyes and gave a sickening smile. "Ohhhh... great, another freak to join the freakshow. Just watch yourself okay? And don't get dirt on my uniform." She accented the last line by wiping down the front of her skirt with her hands aggressively a few times before stepping away and bounding down the corridor with her group of friends who looked identical to her, ponytails swishing in unison as they walked. One of them stopped to pick up the book that was dropped and handed it back to who you assume was their leader. All five of them turned to sneer at you before continuing on their way.

"I fucking hate cheerleaders." You thought to yourself as you closed your locker and looked at your schedule again. Your second class was English. An easy enough class, after a bit of a rough start in the hall.

As you entered your classroom you made your way to the desk at the front where the teacher was sitting.

"Hi, I'm y/n. I'm new, I just moved here yesterday and I was told to introduce myself to my teachers when I got to class so... hi." You said quietly to your new English teacher.

"Well hi! I'm Ms. Davies, it's nice to meet you. I'll write your name into the class list. Can I see your schedule?" She seemed way too smiley and chipper for your liking, but at least she didn't seem like she was going to be a hard-ass.

You handed her your schedule and she nodded and confirmed that you were in the right class. She copied your name down on her attendance list and then stood up, handing back your schedule.

"Please don't-" before you could ask her not to, she began announcing your name and welcoming you to the class.

"We have a new student today! Y/fn. Everyone please be kind, she'll be a little bit behind as we've already gotten through two weeks of curriculum but I'm sure she'll catch up quickly!" Smiling, probably very proud of herself for embarrassing you, she turned to you and pointed to an empty pair of seats at the back of the class. "You can take a seat back there... I would say 'next to Mister Munson' but it seems that he won't be joining us again-" just as she said that, a boy with long, curly, brown hair, a denim jacket adorned with pins and patches, ripped jeans, and absolutely no school supplies walked into the class. "Well, never mind. Here he is." She said, a little surprised by this guy's sudden appearance.

Keeping your head down to avoid the stares that you were most certainly receiving, you made your way to the back of the class and sat down in one of the seats Ms. Davies had pointed to.

The long haired boy's eyes hadn't left you since he walked through the door. He also made his way to his seat and sat down just slightly after you. "Metallica fan eh?" He said, nodding to the t-shirt you were wearing.

"Yeah." You said, a little more blunt than you meant for it to sound. "One of my favorites." You added, noting that most of the decor on his vest were metal bands.

"You've got good taste." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, clearly not intending to pay attention to the class.

"Thank you." You said, honestly. "You seem to as well," pointing at one of his pins, you said "Judas Priest is pretty good too."

The boy beamed. He was honestly really cute, especially when he smiled and his dimples were on full display. He squeezed his crossed arms tighter and wiggled a little, obviously a little giddy, and leaned over to you a bit "I like you. I think I'm going to annoy you for the rest of the year." He said with a sort-of-joking-sort-of-not tone.

You let out a soft laugh and smiled back at him. "Sounds good." You replied, somewhat sarcastically, though you also weren't going to say no to gaining a friend immediately. Especially one who seemed to have the same taste as you. 

He extended one of his hands toward you, intending for you to shake it. "My name’s Eddie." He introduced himself smoothly, his name sounded so royal leaving his tongue.

"I'm y/n." You replied, shaking his hand gently. His fingertips were a little rough, he probably played guitar. "I guess you missed when my name was announced to the world by Ms. Davies up there." You let go of his hand and gestured lightly up to the front of the room where Ms. Davies was writing something on the board. Something you're already not learning.

"I did miss that, unfortunately. I'm sure it wasn’t embarrassing at all and everyone was all 'hi y/n! Welcome to Hawkins High! We hope you have a wonderful time here! Go Tigers!'" He raised the pitch of his voice when he imitated the students, making you laugh a little harder than before.

"That's absolutely horrifying! You make them sound like a cult! I'm glad they didn't say that to me, I think I would've walked right out the door and never came back!"

"I think anyone would!" He chuckled. He looked very pleased with himself that he made you laugh as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed again, but still smiling wide.

As the two of you settled into comfortable silence, you took your notebook out of your bag and attempted to take notes on… MooBath ? With the fantastic mixture of Ms. Davies’ terrible writing, your terrible eyesight, and your lack of glasses, the board at the front of the room was nearly unreadable from where you were sitting. Squinting your eyes and leaning forward you could make out that it was actually MacBeth that she was teaching, not something a cow would say while getting cleaned.

“Forgot your glasses at home?” Eddie asked softly. 

“No, I don't have any. Can't afford them.” You said simply, trying not to make a big deal over the fact that your parents didn't care enough about you to spend less money on their addictions so they could actually take care of their child. 

“Oh. Well that sucks. You should sit closer to the front then.” He said, like it wasn't the most obvious solution. 

You laughed lightly, “I would've but this was the only seat open and I doubt anyone would be kind enough to move just for me.” You looked back at him, he looked very comfortable leaning back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on you. 

“Don't ask ‘em then. Just sit. We don't have assigned seating so you can sit wherever you want.” He shrugged and leaned forward, putting his crossed arms on the desk. “Plus it would be fun to see the cheerleaders whine about not getting their way.” A somewhat devious smile spread across his face. 

“We'll see.” You said with a small smile, turning your attention back to the teacher. You decided that after missing the first half of the lesson you should at least try to take notes from just her voice alone. It was a struggle, she talked very fast and went on plenty of tangents that didn't have much to do with the subject matter. By the end of the class, you had about a page and a half of notes that you were only 60% confident in being correct and a bit of a headache from squinting at the board. 

The bell finally rang while Ms. Davies was mid-sentence. It startled her a bit but she dismissed you all and wished everyone a good rest of the day. On to lunch!

As you packed up your things and exited the classroom, Eddie stuck right by you chattering away. “Hey you should come sit with me and my friends for lunch! You'll fit right in! They're metal fans too!” He seemed to have a ton more energy than he did in class for some reason, or maybe he was quiet on purpose so that you could try to take notes. 

Stopping at your locker to exchange your books for your lunch, you smiled at him “Okay, I'd love to.” Why not? Worst that could happen is they hate you and you spend your time at another school completely alone. Best case? You gain some friends for a bit, until you have to pack up and move to another town in a month or two. 

You could feel that Eddie was practically vibrating as he led you to the cafeteria, eager to introduce you to his friends. He kept his hand on your shoulder like he was afraid you'd run away or get lost on the short journey. Approaching the long lunch table he waved his hand toward a few younger boys on the left, probably freshmen or juniors, and ordered them to “Scoot!”. They looked at him like he asked them to sacrifice themselves. “I said scoot!” He repeated, now using both hands to usher them all down one seat. 

“Well, you don't have to-” you tried to stop the disruption of their natural seating but Eddie just waved at you stating “They're fine. Have a seat!” He beamed once again when you took your seat, every single boy at the table staring at you like you'd just appeared out of thin air. 

“Friends, this is y/n.” Eddie gestured to you like he was unveiling a masterpiece at a museum. The rest of the table greeted you with tentative “Hi.”s. One guy in a leather jacket, on the opposite side of the table asked “You managed to bring a girl to our table? How'd you do that man?”

You chuckled a little “Well, I'm only vaguely a girl, you shouldn't really think of me as one if that makes you more comfortable. You can call me whatever you want, honestly. I’ve heard it all. But I wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with cheerleaders and doing my makeup and giggling and shit. I'm not into all that girly stuff. But uh… anyway… hi.” You gave a little wave and looked at everyone around the table. Most of the older guys looked similar to Eddie in terms of clothing style. They looked pretty metal and some of them had jackets like Eddie. The younger boys were a little more toned down but they seemed to fit in really well with the general vibe of the table. 

Eddie smiled at you as he pulled up a chair and sat at the head of the table, like a king, you thought. “y/n here, is a new kid. Just moved in from…” He looked to you to finish his sentence for him. 

“I don't even know, I only lived there for three months. Somewhere in south Indiana. Started with a B I think?” you shrugged. You genuinely couldn't remember the name, and the city itself was already a blur in your memory, as with most of the cities you've lived in. 

“Bloomington?” one of the boys to your left asked. He had very curly hair tucked up into a hat that said Thinking Cap .

“Yeah, sure, that sounds right.” You replied, opening your lunch bag and taking out the sandwich you made this morning. “Pretty boring place if you ask me.”

“Hey, wait, are you the one that just moved next door to me?” Another boy to your left asked. This one had shoulder length black hair and bangs, it kind of seemed like he was trying to look like Eddie if you were being honest.

“Probably? I just got here, dude. I don't even know my own address, let alone yours!” You laughed, trying not to sound mean, but wanting to get the message across that you don't know anyone or anything in this town. You took a bite out of your sandwich and looked towards Eddie, who was once again leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, looking at you.

Eddie laughed and adjusted his sitting position so that he was leaning back just a little bit more, legs spread apart like he owned the place. “She’s new, like I said. But I think she fits in with us already. An outcast, a metal head, possibly a freak like yours truly.” He meant “freak” in the same way that the cheerleader had meant it when she walked into you at your locker; a person who doesn't conform to the normie bullshit and instead proudly displays their true self to the world.… that's probably how he meant it, you think. 

“I appreciate that, Eddie.” you said, smiling at him. Something in his eyes flashed as you said his name, fear? Arousal? Just simple appreciation? You weren't sure.

The rest of the table appeared to accept that you were part of the group immediately. It seemed that Eddie was their leader and they would follow his every word. Again, like he was a king. Unlike other “kings” you had met, Eddie actually seemed to take pride in being a leader; he accepted the responsibility and he cared about his “subjects” a huge amount. He certainly had power, but his friends respected him and his ideas. It felt very fair. 

“So what do you guys do in this town?” You asked between bites of your sandwich. “Sex, drugs, alcohol and loud music?” You were only half joking with that suggestion, they were the main things most people did in every place you've been to, but you were looking for more of a “places to go” answer.

“I mean, you're pretty spot on.” The guy right across the table piped up. He had sort of poofy hair and a plaid vest that had a bunch of pins on it. “We’re in a band so… we’re the loud music bit.” He gestured to Eddie and the two other guys on his side of the table.

“Woah really?” You were honestly a little excited about this information. “I assume a metal band, yeah?”

“Duhhhhh!” Eddie droned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Nothing else is worth playing.”

“Well, slow down there cowboy.” you laughed, “Other music is good too! Doesn't all have to be sick guitar solos and screaming your lungs out. Sometimes it's nice to chill out to some Elvis.”

“Oh god.” Eddie suddenly looked scared and sick as he stared directly at you. “I was wrong… you're secretly… a normie!” He dramatically flailed his arms and pretended to pass out, like the shock of your extended music taste had killed him. The whole table laughed at him, you included. The sheer drama of this man was keeping you hooked, you were already having fun and you had only just met him. He was comfortable to be around though, like you’d known him since childhood. When he opened his eyes and sat up, you were the first thing he looked at, your smiling face, laughing at his little act.

“You should come watch us play some time!” The guy in the plaid vest offered.

Pulling your eyes away from Eddie, you answered, “I’d love to! Where do you play?” You absolutely would love to see them play! You just hope that they’re some kind of good.

“Every Tuesday at a bar called The Hideout. It's a little far from here.” 

“Oh… well I don't have a car, anyone I could hitch a ride with?” You asked, looking around the table. The younger kids probably didn't have cars either but maybe they had other friends who went to see the band play.

“We can drive you.” Eddie answered quickly. “You can be our first groupie.” You think you saw him wink at you.

“Hold on, really? You never offer rides to non-band members. Something about the sanctity of the van or something?” Plaid vest looked shocked at Eddie’s immediate offer.

“Yeah, well, I've made an exception.” Eddie waved his hand and his words were accepted.

“Really, you don't have to if that's not your thing. I can find my own way there some time, or I'll watch you play someplace else. No biggie. Don't make exceptions for me, I'm not special.” You pleaded. You really didn't want to just force your way into their group, it could end badly if you pissed people off. You could handle being alone or kicked out but you wouldn't be able to handle being the reason the band or the friend group broke up.

“No, really, it's fine. If we bring you along then you'll be forced to listen to our whole set and then maybe we'll finally have a fan!” Eddie explained. “We play tonight if you want to come?”

Suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed, you pulled away, “I… can’t tonight. I have a lot of unpacking to do. I still have to find all my clothes.” You laughed a little uncomfortably. “Next time though, yeah?”

Eddie looked a little saddened by that, but understanding nonetheless. “That's okay!” He reassured, “Next time.” He gave a warm smile to let you know he wasn't trying to pressure you.

“We- we also have a DnD club!” Thinking Cap kid said excitedly.

At this, your eyes brightened. You'd played DnD a few times at different schools, they always ended on cliffhangers though, because you left before the campaign could really get going. “Really!?” You asked. “That's so cool!”

Everyone at the table got excited then; asking you if you were serious, what kind of character you played, if you've ever DM'd, just question after question, none of them getting answered. You laughed as the boys bombarded you with queries and Eddie progressively got more and more annoyed with them. 

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” He yelled, silencing the table immediately, and a few others next to yours. He was standing now and he turned to you, “You're lying right? There's no way you're actually into DnD.” He looked a little hesitant waiting for your answer. Hopeful, maybe, that you were telling the truth. 

“No, I'm not lying! Honestly, I've played a few times but none of the campaigns I've been a part of have gotten anywhere because I moved before we could get to the good stuff.” You explained. 

“Ho-ly-shit!” Eddie said, emphasizing each syllable. “You're perfect. You're actually perfect. Sent from heaven, we've gained an angel, boys!” He raised his arms to the air like he was praising a God, the table roared with excitement again. Then he dropped his hands down onto the table with a bang! Making you all jump a little. 

Suddenly very serious, he leaned into his hands, looming over you slightly and asked “What's your class and level?”

Realizing he was quizzing you, or maybe this was a hazing? You answered immediately, “I play a Half-Elf Paladin named Sebastian. With my limited amount of play time I've managed to eke him up to level 5.” proud of your answer you lifted your chin up to Eddie, showing him you weren't lying and you definitely knew your shit. 

The table was silent again, watching the two of you battle. “Backstory?” He questioned. 

“Sebastian was abducted by a group of thieves when he was 15. He spent 20 years under their command, being the muscle to their brains. One night, the thieves’ camp was raided and Sebastian joined the raiders’ side, killing the people who took him hostage. Now, he's sworn an oath to kill or punish every thief or criminal who holds prisoners or slaves captive. He’s also searching for his lost parents that he was ripped away from.” You held eye contact with him the whole time you told your story. Your character's backstory was something you were very proud of and you weren't going to let him make a fool of you. 

Eddie leaned back away from you, sitting comfortably in his chair again. “Not bad.” he praised. “I'm thoroughly impressed. I guess we can add ‘nerd’ to your list of qualities that make you fit in here.”

You smiled at him, a warm feeling in your chest growing as you felt the validation from him. “Thank you. I wear that title with pride.”

“Okay! So she's joining us right!? This is fricken awesome!” Thinking Cap shook his clenched hands in front of him in excitement. 

Still staring at Eddie, you raised an eyebrow to him, questioning if he wanted you to join or not. 

“That's up to her.” He stated. “I think it's clear that the invitation is open.” 

Glancing at the table full of smiling guys, all of them on the edge of their seat, waiting for your answer, you simply said, “Then I accept.”

The table roared a final time and you received a few pats on the back and a few “Welcome to hellfire!”s. Meanwhile, Eddie was grinning from ear to ear, trying to play down his excitement, but you could see the way he squeezed his crossed arms together, the same way he did when you talked about music in class. He was definitely happy that you said yes. 

When the excitement finally died down and everyone settled into a lighter conversation, Eddie scooted his chair closer to you and whispered somewhat close to your ear. “If we're too much for you, you can tell us to back off. I didn't mean to bombard you with so much shit on your first day. You just seem really cool, and that's rare around here, so I wanted you to have some equally cool friends.”

Turning your head slightly to look at him, you noticed how comfortable he was with being so close to you. And how comfortable you were with it as well. “I'm enjoying it actually,” you whispered back. “I've never felt this welcome before.”

“Good.” Was all he said as he moved away from you, showing off his dimples again with a smile. 

You finished your lunch while listening to the multiple conversations happening around the table. Two boys were bickering, three were talking about guitar solos, and Eddie and Plaid Vest were discussing something very quietly. You thought to yourself “Okay, I definitely think like it here for once.”

“Hey, lunch is almost over,” Plaid Vest announced, looking to you. “What class do you have next?”

Reaching into your back pocket, you pulled out your schedule. “Ummm… History, with O'Donall.” 

“NO WAY!” Eddie yelled from right beside you, startling you a bit. “So do I! Let me see your schedule!” 

You handed the paper over to Eddie and both he and Plaid Vest (you really should have asked everyone’s name) looked over every class. “None of those are with me, unfortunately.” Plaid Vest said, slightly disappointed. The end-of-lunch bell rang and students began packing up their lunches, returning their trays, and leaving the cafeteria. “I'll see you later tho!” He waved at you with a genuine smile and left the cafeteria.

“You’ll never fucking believe this, but we have every single class together!” Eddie said excitedly.

“No way.” You said flatly, you did not believe that one bit. The rest of the table started packing up their things as well and heading out. Everyone gave you a polite “bye” on their way out.

“I'm serious! Well, except for first period, but the rest of today we do! I’d show you my own schedule but it's in my locker.” Eddie insisted. He stood up as you did and kept to your side as you made your way back to your locker to gather your things. 

“So what you're saying is: I'm never going to get rid of you?” You joked, opening up your locker.

“Oh absolutely!” Eddie said with a devilish grin on his face. “Guess you and I have to be friends forever now.”

“Well… forever for me might only be a couple months before I move again, but I think I can handle you for that long.” You teased, pulling the last of your class stuff out of your locker and shutting it.

“You're going to move again? You just got here.” Eddie asked. You both started down the hall towards history class, Eddie leading the way.

“Well, I've moved probably near fifty times in my eighteen years of life, so… it's not unlikely that I'll move again.”

“FIFTY!?” Eddie yelled

“Calm down,” you laughed at his sudden outburst, that number usually surprises people. “Yeah something like that. Makes it hard to keep friends.” You said, sounding a lot sadder than you meant to.

“That fucking blows. Why do you move so much?” Eddie was genuinely curious about you, he was leaning in and listening to your every word.

“You'd have to ask my dad. He pisses off a lot of people and then we’re forced to skip town before he gets his ass beat.” You explained. “He's not in trouble with the cops or anything, just like… landlords, neighbors, bar owners, liquor store employees… pissed off a mayor once too.” God your dad’s a mess.

“Wow, what an asshole.” He stepped through the doorway of your history class and held his arm out in front of him, waving you through like you were royalty. It made you laugh, and made other people stare.

“You're telling me.” You said, exaggerated. You walked past Eddie and quickly made your way to the teacher at the head of the room, wanting to introduce yourself quickly this time so that there weren't so many students in the room for her to announce your presence to.

This teacher, once again, confirmed that this was the right class and welcomed you to Hawkins High. As she finished writing your name on the attendance sheet, a shrill voice let out an exasperated “UGH!” from behind you. 

“This is my seat, you freak! Go find a trash can to sit in, or better yet! Go jump off a bridge!” The same blonde haired cheerleader who had smashed into you in the hall was currently screaming at Eddie, who was sitting at a pair of desks in the third row with his feet on the table, not looking at her at all.

“Miss Blackwell! That is enough! None of these seats belong to anyone! Please find another desk to sit in. Mister Munson has already chosen that one.” Ms. O'Donall stated, sternly. She then sighed and added, “And thank you for joining us today, mister Munson.” sounding like she was annoyed that he showed up at all.

The cheerleader and her friend stomped away from Eddie who was now smiling at you, very proud of himself. They sat down at a different pair of desks which caused another two students who had just walked in, to be upset and move back a row, they caused another two to move, and another, and another, and another. Eddie had just disrupted almost every student’s seating habit single-handedly.

“What are you doing?” you whispered to Eddie as you took your seat next to him. “You really wanted to hear the cheerleaders whine huh?”

“Of course! It sounded like fun when I suggested it, and I didn’t think you would do it, so I did.” He took his feet off the desk in front of him and leaned toward you so only you could hear him. “Plus, I figured this was a good spot, you can see the board from here right?”

Did he really just force some cheerleaders to move seats just so that you wouldn't have to sit at the back of the room and squint to see the board? “Eddie!” You whispered, scolding him a bit. “You did not just do that so I could see the board.” You were looking him directly in the eyes, searching for some other explanation than kindness towards you, someone he just met.

Eddie just shrugged his shoulders with a big smile on his face and leaned back in his chair, assuming the same position as he seemed to always do, arms crossed, legs spread.

You continued to stare at him, bewildered that someone would do that for you. A loud voice pulled you away though, “Miss y/ln. I don't think today's lesson is on mister Munson’s forehead, so could you face the board where it actually is, please?” Ms. O’Donall, who you now know will be a hard-ass, was looking directly at you, lips pursed together. “Sorry.” you said quietly, and turned to face her. She nodded sharply and went back to the lesson. You heard a few giggles from behind you, probably the cheerleaders. 

You took out your notebook and began copying the notes Ms. O'Donall was writing on the board, trying your hardest to not look at Eddie. Something in your head kept wanting to stare at him, to get closer to him, to really make a friend this time around. But you knew if you did that, it would end in heartbreak when you were dragged off to another city with your parents. So you pushed it all down. Hanging out with the boys won't be so bad, there's no harm in having fun, you just won't let yourself get too attached to them and the break will be clean. Hopefully. 

The rest of the day went by smoothly. You managed to get some notes from Ms. O'Donall on the two weeks that you missed so you wouldn't be so behind. And your last class of the day was biology, probably the only class that you learned anything in during all of last year, so it felt like more of a review than new information. Eddie chose to sit you near the front in biology as well, though no one yelled at him in that class, which was honestly surprising. 

When the final bell rang, Eddie followed you once again to your locker. “How did you understand a single thing that Mr. Grinnell said?”

“I've been through it before. This is my second senior year. Fuck every other class, but bio? That's my shit. Well, and art, but that doesn't count.” You explained, pulling your jacket and backpack from your locker. 

“I dunno, I've been through it before too, but I think it made even less sense this time around.” He rubbed his forehead like thinking made his brain hurt. 

You closed your locker and placed your hand on his shoulder. “If you need some help, I don't mind. After all you've done for me so far, I think I owe you something. We can help each other finally finish our senior years. Well… help each other for as long as I'm here.”

Eddie pulled his hand away from his face and looked up at you. “You serious? Because I think I could really use the help. I'm dumb as shit so it might be a challenge, but I'm not gonna say no if it means we get to hang out.” He seemed to be excited about your offer. 

“Yeah, I'm absolutely serious. Gives me a reason to stay away from my house and my parents.” You really hated sitting around the house with your dad who was always drunk and mad, and your mom who was always high and stupid. “But not tonight though, I really do have to find my clothes or else I'll be showing up to school tomorrow in this exact outfit. Plus, you have a gig to get to.” You smiled at him warmly, making sure he knew that you weren't just being nice for the sake of it. You really did like the idea of having someone to keep you on track in school, and you had no problem with helping him do the same. 

“Deal!” He excitedly accepted and stuck out his hand for you to shake. 

You took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “No taking that back now, we've made a deal!” You said, pointing at him. 

He grinned. “Scout's honor!” he swore, raising his hand to place it over his heart, his other hand still holding yours. 

The two of you made your way outside, ready to head home. “Need a ride?” Eddie offered. 

“No, that's okay, I'll walk.” You politely declined. 

“Are you sure? If you live near Wheeler, that's a pretty far walk!” Wheeler must be the kid you moved in next to. The one with black hair that looked like Eddie’s. 

“Honestly, it's not that bad of a walk. I made it to school that way.” Granted, you were late two periods, but that wasn't entirely your fault. You didn't have your alarm clock unpacked yet and you woke up later than you meant to. “It's pretty straightforward. Plus, it's how I usually learn the city. If I get lost, I'll just wander till I find my way back.”

Eddie looked a little worried for a moment so you patted him on the shoulder and reassured him, “I'll be fine. Promise. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah!?” 

He hesitated for a moment but you could see him decide against arguing with you. “Alright then, yeah. See you tomorrow, y/n.” He said, nodding and smiling. 

“Bye, Eddie.” You gave him a big smile and a little wave and headed off in the direction of your new house. 

The walk home took about 20 minutes, plenty of time to sort out your head and take note of all that had happened in the day. You made six friends in one day, definitely a new record for you! You joined a DnD party, possibly became a groupie, pissed off some cheerleaders, and gained a study buddy. There's a good chance that this town wasn't going to be the worst you've ever stayed in. But the looming question of “just how long will this last?” would never leave your mind. 

[rook-apologist]

Pairing: Lace Harding x Rook Thorne (Human) (He/Him)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (Placeholder for now, this may change) Tags: Domestic Fluff, Comfort, Romance, Epilogue

Word Count: 1,884 (ongoing)

Prelude: Lace Harding and Rook journey to Ferelden to enjoy some much needed time off together. Rook is excited to see where Lace grew up, and is looking forward to meeting her famous "Ma" as the rest of Thedas recovers from the "Blight to End All Blights". --------------------- Preview: The cobblestone road leading to Redcliffe was well-worn, framed by sprawling meadows and the occasional stretch of forest. A gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and the distant murmur of a stream, a stark contrast to the chaos and danger that had defined the past year. While some patches still carried traces of dying blight from the recent struggles, life was slowly returning to this place. Lace Harding and Marcus “Rook” Thorne walked side by side, their boots crunching against the stones as they made their way toward Lace’s childhood village.

It was peaceful here, a world apart from the shattered battlegrounds of Northern Thedas where the Veilguard had faced down gods and the end of everything. For Rook, the quiet felt almost surreal. For Lace, it felt like coming home.

“You know,” Rook said, adjusting the strap of his pack, “I’ve fought Darkspawn, Venatori, and two angry elven gods. And yet, somehow, I’m more nervous about meeting your mother than all of that combined.”

Lace smirked, her short legs keeping pace easily despite the height difference. “Really, Rook? Ma’s the one who scares you?”

He gave a sheepish shrug, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I just want to make a good impression. If she’s anything like you, I’m sure she’ll see right through me.”

Lace laughed, a warm, melodic sound that carried on the breeze. “Through you? Please. You’re a Grey Warden, which is already a plus around these parts, and the man who stood toe-to-toe with monsters like Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain. I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine.”

“Hey, don’t forget that you were there doing the same thing too. I can’t take all the credit.” Rook deflected.

Lace sighed and lightly shoved Rook’s arm, “Just take the compliment dummy.”

Rook smiled at her, and let out a relenting sigh. He focused his gaze ahead as they walked, before breaking the silence again “Still, mothers are a different kind of terrifying.”

Lace glanced at him, her teasing smile softening into something more affectionate. “You’ll be fine, Rook. If I love you, then I know that she will too.”

The words made Rook stumble slightly, his cheeks coloring. “You think so?”

“Absolutely.” Lace’s grin widened, and she added with a mischievous glint in her eye, “Besides, I’ve already been writing to her about you for months now.”

Rook stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. “Wait. What?” --------------------- Welcome to my first attempt at long term story telling! I have over twelve pages written that still have to be proof read and edited, but am excited to dedicate myself to a consistent narrative! Hope you all like it!

[v3nusxsky]

Hey first of all, I love your stories :) have been reading them for days and can’t get enough of them.

I have a question, could you possibly write a morticia/Larissa/ f reader story? Something like reader is a teacher at Nevermore and goes into Larissa’s office and being in thoughts she just forgets to knock and she catches morticia and Larissa making out, reader flushes and wants to flee but then they start seducing r and they both „fight“ over being the dominant and figure out a punishment for r ( funishment being edging, spanking or whatever you decide) , for not knocking but in the end they have a great threesome and decide to make it their staple once or twice a month to meet ;)

Thank you have a great day :)

Accidentally on purpose 18+

*Authors note~ I hope this is okay. I've done similar for Leonora lesso but less detailed. So here's my attempted at a detailed Larissa version.*

Trigger warning~threesome strap on degrading praise edging

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You were the newest staff member at Nevermore Academy, it was an adjustment for sure yet you couldn't have been any happier doing your dream job and being around the students made you happy. Your were the schools new sorcery teacher, and you truly felt so welcomed. You'd been told to that should you need anything at all, to go and find Larissa in her office. Maybe that's why you made your way there blindly, it was really only one of the few places you knew how to find.

You were so lost in thought of trying to make sure you found the right room, maybe that's why you just opened the door on autopilot, completely forgetting that knocking was customary. Although what lay on the other side of the door reinforced why knocking was a necessity.

Larissa sat at her desk, with the potions teacher sat on her lap as they were otherwise engaged. You felt your cheeks flushing at the sight alone, your sexuality being rather private considering you'd only recently started here. The women dressed in a skin tight floor length dress with raven black long hair was rubbing her hands all over the headmistress's body, while Larissa's hands found their way to her back and tangling in her hair. Neither of them seeming to notice the new arrival in the room until you coughed trying to disguise your true feeling at the sight.

Both women pulled apart to assess who was here, both seemingly having the same idea as they allowed their eyes to roam your body before glancing at each other. You felt torn under their gaze, half of you wanting to apologise and leave the room and the other wanting to see where things would go. You must have worn your confusion on your face because both women were up and at your side instantly. Larissa coming to whisper in your ear while Morticia took a hold of your hand and brought it to her lips.

"Um I uh I'm sorry I should've knocked" you whimpered enjoying the attention but also confused. "Oh Rissa we have a shy one? Let me play with her please" she purred and Larissa just smirked and nipped your ear, "want us to play with you sweetheart?" All you could do is nod your consent allowing them to lead you into Larissa's adjoined bedroom. Morticia was quick to claim your lips with her own while Larissa moved around the room preparing what she would need for her girls.

"Tisha darling why don't you share are guest? Go sit pretty for me darling" Larissa purred and Morticia moved herself from you following the command. It was very clear the Larissa would be the more dominant and apparently Morticia opting to slip in as a middle. Truthfully, the idea of being used by the women exciting you. Larissa made quick work kissing over down your neck before sucking on your pulse point. "Sweetheart your okay with this right? You don't have to do this love" she whispered pressing kisses on your cheeks. "I want to" you whimpered before claiming Larissa's lips with yous. There was a distant whimper from the bed as Morticia sat pretty watching the show.

Larissa stripped your clothing down as well as her own leaving all three of you bare and accessible. Larissa giving Morticia a kiss before instructing you to settle between Morticia's milky white thighs. You immediately placed sloppy kisses and nips marking up her pale thighs before being your mouth to her core. She was absolutely soaked and you couldn't help but lap up the slick that lay there. You were vaguely aware of Larissa sitting on Morticia's face, instructing her to please her while moaning a string of filthy comments. "Yes Tish! There good girl. Look at you letting us use you like the whore you are." The blonde moaned out cumming on the raven haired woman's face, drenching it in cum. You made sure Morticia was straight after falling over that pleasurable edge, all while rubbing your thighs together trying to gain some friction of some sort.

You stayed between her thighs as you lapped at her cunt gently cleaning her while Larissa and Morticia shared a passionate kiss. You felt the bed dip and a hand into your hair tugging it to signal they wanted up. Instantly, you realised that Morticia was off the bed and strapping up while Larissa kissed down your body and paid attention to your chest, you hardly noticed she had already shifted her female anatomy into a male version. She guided your hand down allowing you to feel just how hard she was for you. The gasp of shock allowed her to take advantage of the kiss you were sharing as her tongue explored your mouth.

"Mon chéri, isn't it time you shared the toy? I want to use one of pretty holes" she purred kissing the blondes neck. It was a little awkward but you were pulled up on your hands and knees, Larissa underneath you stroking her length while Morticia knelt behind adding lube to her black strap. In tandem they bother entered your needy holes in sync. Once they found the rhythm, you swore you'd never felt anything quite like this. All you could do is whimper and mewl at the pair as they used you as nothing more than their fuck toy. Edging you as part of your punishment for stumbling into the office without knocking all while teasing you, “it was accidentally on purpose was it sweetheart? Look at how you’re taking us both like the needy whore you are. Such a cock slut for us.” Not stopping until came three times, milking Larissa's cock with your pussys walls as she came inside of you. You all came down from your high exhausted but stated. You all knew this had to happen again in the near future.

Despite the unusual situation both the elder women provided you with the best after care you had ever experienced. They were kind and gentle whispering words of care and reassurance between you all. The three of you ended up snuggled in bed with each other where you all fell asleep.

Word count~ 1205

[coco-bean-1218]

Well-Behaved Women Never Make History

Chapter One: Something In The Way

Chapter Soundtrack

Summary: Claire leaves her home and starts her journey to Camp Toccoa.

A/N: Hello, everyone!! Welcome to Chapter One of Well-Behaved Women Never Make History! I am very excited to finally start this story and share it with all of you! I hope you enjoy and feel free to like, comment, and reblog!

Warnings: Swearing, period-typical behavior

Taglist: @whollyjoly @footprintsinthesxnd @panzershrike-pretz @xxluckystrike

Credits: Moodboard 1 made by @xxluckystrike Moodboard 2 made by @footprintsinthesxnd Thank you both so much!!!

June, 1942 Detroit, Michigan 10 a.m. Eastern Time ---

Detroit's Union Station was a bustling hub of wartime activity, its vast halls echoing with the hurried footsteps of soldiers and civilians alike. The morning sun streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows over the faces of families clustered around their loved ones. Amidst them stood Claire O'Connor, surrounded by an imposing fortress of luggage, her dark brown hair pulled back into victory rolls, dark red lipstick painted on her lips, her stoic expression betraying none of the apprehension swirling inside her. 

"Damn, Claire, are you planning to open a boutique down there?" Emma, her older sister, teased, one hand affectionately resting on her sister's shoulder while her eyes danced with mirth at the sight of the luggage.

Claire offered a wry smile, pushing up her glasses with a finger. "Hey, you know me, I'm always prepared," she quipped, the edge of her humor tinged with nerves. "You can never have too many pairs of underwear."

Their father, Mr. O'Connor, chuckled, adjusting his glasses with a patient smile. "War or no war, I don't think the enemy will care much for your matching luggage set."

"Ha-ha, very funny, Dad," Claire retorted, a tight smile betraying her simmering nerves. Peyton stood beside Claire, a single duffel bag slung over her shoulder, her posture composed—a sharp contrast to Claire's cluttered state.

Mrs. O'Connor, Claire and Emma's mother, clucked her tongue as she adjusted one of the smaller bags atop a mountainous suitcase. "You've got enough to last through the war and back, honey bee," she said, her voice equal parts exasperation and concern. "Remember, you're going to be a medic, not a debutante."

"I know, Mom. It's just—" Claire hesitated, biting her lip. "It feels like I'm packing up my entire world."

"Because you are," Peyton interjected softly, coming to stand beside Claire. Her own belongings were neatly consolidated into her single bag, the stark contrast between the friends' preparations mirroring their differing paths. Peyton's mom stood a few feet away, her pride battling the sorrow in her eyes.

"First time for everything, right?" Claire continued, her attempt at levity falling flat in her own ears. Her gaze shifted between the faces of her family and Peyton, trying to memorize them before the journey ahead.

"Exactly. It's an adventure, Claire," Peyton replied, reaching out to give Claire's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Just think of the stories we'll have to share."

"Right," Claire forced a chuckle. "Yours will probably be publishable. Mine will be too bloody to print."

"Your sense of humor is as dark as ever," Peyton replied.

The arrival of Peyton's train sliced through the air, the shrill whistle echoing off the station walls. The machine billowed steam like a specter of change, heralding the imminent departure. Everyone's attention turned to the locomotive, its metallic body gleaming beneath the Michigan sun.

"Train for Des Moines now boarding!" the announcement cut through their conversation with the sharpness of a knife. 

"Guess that's my cue," Peyton said, her usual grace faltering just a bit. 

"Promise me you'll write?" Claire's voice was steady, but her brown eyes betrayed her anxiety. 

"Every chance I get," Peyton promised, pulling Claire into a fierce hug. "And don't go falling for any charming soldiers without telling me first."

"Who, me?" Claire managed a smirk. "Charm isn't exactly my Achilles' heel, you know that."

"I know, but stranger things have happened," Peyton said with a knowing look. "Just promise me you won't shut yourself off from the possibility of love."

"Oh, I'll keep an eye out for any dashing heroes trying to sweep me off my feet," Claire replied dryly. "But don't hold your breath."

With a final squeeze, Peyton released her friend and turned to her mother, enveloping her in a long hug before stepping back with a brave nod. 

"Go get 'em, journalist!" Claire called after her, her teasing tone belying the tightness in her chest.

Peyton turned at the steps of the train, grinning broadly. "Wait for my bylines, Claire! They'll be front page before you know it!"

As Peyton disappeared into the train, Claire watched the doors slide shut, her heart sinking with the finality of the moment. A lump formed in her throat as she waved goodbye to Peyton, her best friend whom she had known since childhood. The train let out a low rumble, lurching into motion, gradually picking up speed and pulling away from the platform.

"Godspeed, Peyton Nelson," Claire whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

Nearly an hour later, the shrill whistle of Claire's train tore through the lingering silence, signaling the impending departure and severing the last tenuous threads tethering her to home. Her family clustered around her like a protective shroud, their faces etched with pride and worry.

"Here it is," her father said, his voice thick with unspoken emotions.

"Looks like it," Claire agreed, hoisting her suitcase with a grunt. Her hands trembled slightly, the weight of her decision settling on her shoulders along with the overstuffed leather.

"Train for Atlanta now boarding," the conductor called out, his voice a steady beacon amidst the clamor.

"Remember to keep your head down and help others do the same," her father said, "And look out for yourself."

"Can't make any promises," Claire quipped, "But I'll do what I can."

"Let's just hope the Army's ready for you," Mrs. O'Connor added, a twinkle in her eye that mirrored Claire's own spark of defiance. "They won't know what hit 'em!" Her embrace was tight, a desperate attempt to imprint the feeling of her daughter onto her very soul. 

"I'll write every single day until you're sick of me!" Claire promised, offering a watery smile. "And when I come back, maybe I'll have a dashing paratrooper to introduce to you. Wouldn't that be something?"

Mrs. O'Connor winked at her daughter, “A fiery girl like you rarely returns with just tales of heroism and bravery. You're bound to turn a few heads, I'm sure of it!"

Laughter bubbled up from Emma, cutting through the tension like a lifeline thrown across turbulent waters. "Oh, brother, that poor man!" her sister said, hugging her tightly.

Her dad chuckled, the lines around his eyes deepening. "Just make sure he knows how to handle a fearless woman." 

"And don't let those men step all over you," her mother added in a firm tone, "You know what I say, 'Men ain't shit,' except for your father, of course."

"You know me, I don't like toxic masculinity," Claire replied with a smirk.

As the conductor's voice reverberated through the station once more, signaling the imminent departure of Claire's train, she picked up her mountain of baggage and stepped onto the platform. Claire climbed the steps of the train but paused at the top to cast a final glance at her loved ones. "Bye! Wish me luck!" she called out.

With a deep breath that did little to steady her heart, she entered the train. Claire made her way down the narrow aisle, finding a seat by the window in the last car, where the world could unfurl before her like a map of possibilities. As the vehicle jerked forward, she pressed her palm against the glass, maintaining eye contact with her parents and Peyton's mother until the station was nothing but a speck in the distance.

She settled into the rhythm of the rails, the clack-clack of wheels turning over tracks like a metronome counting down to her new reality. The heat was oppressive air thickening in the cramped space, sticking her blouse to her back and making her glasses slide down her nose. 

As the landscape outside blurred into a collage of greens and browns, Claire pulled out "The Great Gatsby" from her bag. She immersed herself in the opulent tragedy of Gatsby's world, finding a strange comfort in the characters' doomed pursuits. "I always thought of myself as Gatsby and Noah as Daisy." she thought to herself, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. 

Hours melded together, marked only by the rhythmic sway of the train and the occasional jostle of fellow passengers. When the heat became too oppressive, she switched to Freud, his theories a stark contrast to Gatsby's opulence and glittering disillusionment. "Id, ego, and superego," she mused aloud, her voice lost in the clatter of the train. "Which one got me into this mess? Freud would have a field day with me."

As dusk began to paint the sky with strokes of burnt orange and dusky violet, Claire pulled out a sheet of paper and began a letter to her mom. Her pen hovered above the page before it skated across, detailing the mundane aspects of her journey—never hinting at the undercurrent of fear that gnawed at her insides. "Dear Mom," she wrote, "the scenery is beautiful, although it's hard to appreciate fully when you're being slowly roasted."

Her hand hesitated, hovering above the paper as memories of Noah surfaced unbidden. Claire reached into her handbag and retrieved a photograph. It showed her and Noah, side by side, innocent smiles frozen in time under the banner of their high school graduation. Their graduation gowns billowed like hopeful sails, caps thrown mid-air, smiles wide and oblivious to the future. "Oh, Noah," she whispered, tracing the outline of his face. "Always fixing things, but never saw what was broken." 

Her fingers traced the lines of his face, the awkward angle of his glasses—a mirror image of her own. She wondered where he was at this exact moment, if the sea was kind to him, or if the churn of the engine lulled him to sleep each night. "Be safe," she whispered into the fading light, her lips brushing against the cool surface of the picture. The train carried her onward, through the dusk and into a future as uncertain as the war itself.

The night stretched before her, each mile a note in a song of departure and anticipation. Claire leaned her head against the window, watching towns and fields blur by, while inside, her heart beat a staccato rhythm of longing and fear—an intricate dance of the times.

As the morning sun pierced through the curtains, bathing the train compartment in a soft golden glow, Claire stirred awake, her cheek imprinted with the pattern of the window's glass. She blinked groggily as she stood up and reached for her luggage to retrieve a fresh outfit from her suitcase. 

Stepping into the narrow hallway of the train car, Claire made her way towards the washroom at the end. The rocking motion of the train beneath her feet quickened her pace, her hand steadying on the metal railing that lined the corridor. 

She reached the washroom door and gave it a gentle push, stepping inside and locking it behind her. The tiny room was a welcome refuge from the constant movement of the train. Claire changed into her fresh clothes — a burnt orange and white striped blouse and matching orange skirt that billowed softly around her knees — and stuffed yesterday’s clothing into a laundry bag. 

As she adjusted the collar of her blouse, the train lurched unexpectedly, causing her to stumble mid-button. Catching herself on the sink, she cursed under her breath and quickly finished dressing. 

With her heart still hammering in her chest from the sudden movement, Claire took a moment to collect herself before unlocking the door and stepping back into the hallway. 

Upon reaching her seat, the conductor’s voice echoed through the car, announcing their arrival in Atlanta. Claire collected her books and the letter to her mother, tucking them into her bag next to Noah's photograph. With a hefty sigh, she hoisted her bags—one, two, three—onto her shoulders and hips, a cumbersome dance that drew snickers from a couple of soldiers nearby. Atlanta, the city humming with the war effort and Southern charm, sprawled out before her, daunting in its vastness.

The stifling heat of Georgia smothered Claire the moment she stepped off the train, a harsh welcome to the South. She maneuvered through the bustling station, dragging her excessive luggage behind her, the clicking of her heels lost in the shuffle of footsteps and the murmur of countless conversations. 

The bus was already rumbling when Claire approached it, and as she climbed aboard, she felt every eye bore into her. She was a curiosity— a woman unaccompanied by a man among rows of young soldiers whose lives were set on a wartime metronome.

"Camp Toccoa," she said firmly to the bus driver, who raised an eyebrow but handed her the ticket without comment.

"Hey, doll, you boarding with all that?" one of the soldiers called out, nodding towards her luggage pile.

"Unless you see it sprouting legs and walking itself on, yes," Claire retorted, her voice edged with the wit she wielded like armor.

Another soldier piped up, "What's your story? Headed to entertain the troops?"

"Medic training," she clipped, pushing her glasses up her nose with a stubborn tilt of her chin. "I'll be patching up your sorry asses on the battlefield. Consider yourselves lucky."

Murmurs rippled through the bus as she maneuvered to an empty seat at the back, her bags wedged between her and the aisle. The curious glances didn't cease, though they became more surreptitious. Claire could feel the weight of their stares, the silent question marks punctuating the air around her. 

"Never seen a dame wanting to be in the thick of it," a soldier across the aisle muttered to his neighbor. "She's got guts, I'll give her that."

"Or she's crazy," the other replied, not unkindly.

"Both," Claire interjected before she could stop herself, eliciting a few chuckles. It was an odd sensation, this camaraderie laced with isolation. She hunkered down in her seat, pulling out her unfinished letter to her mom, and tried to resume writing, but the words seemed frivolous now, floating aimlessly on the page. Instead, she tucked the letter away, leaning her forehead against the cool window glass, allowing her thoughts to drift.

"Hey, combat medic," the same soldier ventured again after a few moments, "You got a fella waiting for you back home?"

Claire answered, staring blankly at the seat in front of her, "Nope."

The soldier whistled low. "Well, that's a damn shame. A pretty gal like you, brave enough to sign up for this mess," he said, gesturing to the bus full of soldiers. "There must be plenty of fellas fighting over you back there."

Claire chuckled bitterly. "Fighting over me? More like running in the opposite direction," she replied, a self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips. 

The soldier's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "Nah, I can't believe that. A dame like you? Trust me, there ain't a fella worth his salt who wouldn't be lining up for a chance with you."

Claire sighed, her eyes fixed on the soldier's earnest expression. "Well, I guess they must have missed the memo," she retorted with a forced chuckle.

"I'm Danny, by the way," the soldier said, extending his hand towards Claire.

"Claire," she replied, shaking his hand. 

Danny had thick, dark hair and eyebrows, deep brown eyes, and a slight stubble showing he had recently shaved. He was handsome, no doubt about it.

"You said you're gonna be a combat medic, right?" Danny asked, genuine curiosity in his eyes. "At Camp Toccoa, if I heard you correctly. Ain't that where the paratroopers train?"

Claire nodded, a glimmer of defiance in her eyes. "Yeah, that's right. We'll be jumping out of perfectly good planes."

Danny whistled, impressed. "Well, I'll be damned. I could never. I'd crash land, splattering my guts everywhere like a burst tomato."

Claire laughed, "Thanks for the visual. I'll think of that as I plummet to my death."

When the bus finally came to a halt, the driver's voice announced, "Camp Toccoa, final stop!"

Claire stood and wrestled with her suitcases once more. Danny offered to help, but she politely declined. With a determined stride, she walked down the narrow aisleway towards the steps. 

"Good luck, Miss Medic!" Danny called out.

"Yeah, you too, Dollface," she teased with a wink. With a final heave, she managed to walk down the steps of the bus into the sweltering heat. 

"Watcha thinkin', Danny?" his companion next to him asked.

Danny grinned, shaking his head, “Nothin’ much," he replied, his gaze set on Claire as she stood outside the entrance to the camp.

The camp sprawled before Claire, a collection of low-lying buildings nestled amidst the dense Georgia forest. Stepping onto the dirt road, she was greeted by the stark white letters on the wooden sign: 'Camp Toccoa.'

She stood there, alone now, the dust settling around her feet. Before her lay a path lined with uncertainty, with courage demanded and comfort stripped away. To enter meant embracing her choice fully, to become part of something far greater than herself. 

---

[holycatsandrabbits]

Hey, y’all, it’s Weird Wednesday! Where on some Wednesdays, I blog about weird stuff and give writing prompts.

Today: 50 Berkeley Square: The Scariest House in London

Welcome to Weird Wednesday! We’re about to spend a night in what Victorian England believed to be the most haunted house in London. Doesn’t that sound fun?

When I was a kid, I read The World’s Most Famous Ghosts, by Daniel Cohen. Unfortunately, this was before I realized that printing something in a book does not automatically make it true. I believed every terrifying story, and to my mind, the scariest was 50 Berkeley Square. The book said that one night in 1887, two sailors who needed shelter broke into the house and attempted to sleep there. In the morning, one was dead on the street outside, his face frozen in a look of terror. The surviving sailor blamed the house.

So let’s go on in, shall we?

50 Berkeley Square is a townhouse in Mayfair, London, built in 1750. Nowadays, it is not known for being haunted. In fact, for many years it was actually a bookshop [great pictures at this site]. The first few owners of the house, including Prime Minister George Canning, had no issues. The trouble only started when a man named Thomas Myers moved in.

Check out the blog post for the whole story and some writing prompts, such as:

Hold My Beer. It’s funny how when you say things like “Nobody can spend a night in this house,” you get a long line of brave idiots volunteering to do exactly that. There are various possible motivations for a character willing to spend the night in a haunted house. It could be money or treasure (as in the movie House on Haunted Hill), bragging rights, an attempt to “cleanse” the house, overconfidence, or curiosity. The idea that someone can experience something life-altering in a very short amount of time is desperately fascinating. Some people are willing to risk death to find out what it is.

DannyeChase.com ~ AO3 ~ Linktree ~ Weird Wednesday writing prompts blog ~ Resources for Writers 

Image credit

[strljaem]

“MANEATER”

play “maneater” by nelly furtado ft. timbaland while reading, you’re welcome.

tw ; inspired by the movie “jennifer’s body”

this is quite long but bear with me!!

The corridors were a swirl of chatter, the noise level ebbing and flowing with each step I took. It was the usual routine: boys leaning against their lockers, girls pretending to be busy with their phones, all eyes subtly shifting in my direction. I wasn't naive; I knew exactly why I commanded attention. My reflection in every classroom window told the same story: the way my hair cascaded over my shoulders, my toned legs peeking out from beneath my skirt, and the smile that seemed to light up the entire hallway. I was the most popular girl in school, and I knew it.

It wasn't just about looks, though they played a significant part. It was the confidence I exuded, the way my hips swayed as I walked, the infectious laugh that made even the dullest class bearable. Teachers liked me because I knew when to charm them, and students idolized me because I set the trends. But despite the throngs of admirers, there was only one face I cared to see among the sea of faces. Na Jaemin.

He was the new kid, having transferred from some prestigious school across town. The moment he stepped into class, everyone went quiet. His dark hair fell perfectly around his sharp features, eyes that seemed to pierce right through you. His lips, which held a slight smirk, hinted at the confidence he didn't need to boast about. He had this effortless style, this quiet charisma that set him apart from every other guy I'd met. It was impossible not to notice him.

And I did notice him. A lot. He had that brooding vibe that made you want to know what he was thinking. While other guys fumbled with their words or tried too hard to impress me, Jaemin simply gave me a nod, his lips curving into that subtle smile that made my heart race. He was different, and I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

The rumors about me and Jaemin spread like wildfire. Some said we were dating, others claimed we'd been secretly meeting after school. I didn't mind the speculation; it kept people guessing, and that was part of the fun. But the truth was, we hadn't even had a full conversation. Just stolen glances, a few exchanged words, and that undeniable chemistry. I had guys queuing up for me, but I only had eyes for him.

I knew I could have any guy I wanted, but with Jaemin, it wasn't about conquest. It was the way his eyes seemed to understand me, the way he carried himself with that air of mystery. I had everything I could want in high school, yet he made me feel like there was something more, something deeper. It was the way he didn't fall over himself to get my attention, the way he was just... cool. And it drove me wild.

Every day, I looked forward to catching a glimpse of him, wondering if today would be the day he'd say something more than a simple "hey." And each day, I felt the tension build, the anticipation growing. I was the queen bee, but when it came to Na Jaemin, I was just another girl with a crush, waiting for him to make his move.

Prom night was approaching, and with it came the usual flurry of excitement. Everyone at school was buzzing about it, the latest topic of conversation at every lunch table and group chat. Who would go with whom, what dress to wear, who'd arrive in the most extravagant way—everything had to be perfect. But for me, it was a different kind of chaos.

Being the most popular girl in school had its perks, but it also had its drawbacks. Since the prom was announced, I'd been bombarded with invitations from almost every guy in my class. Some were sweet, others tried to be suave, and a few were just plain cringeworthy. The truth was, none of them stood out. They were all the same—awkward, sweaty, trying too hard to impress me. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at their attempts.

The first few invitations were easy to decline. A polite "no, thank you" usually did the trick. But as prom night drew nearer, the pressure mounted. It was like every guy thought he was the exception, the one who could win me over with a cheesy pickup line or a hastily written poem. Some even enlisted their friends to plead on their behalf, as if that would somehow change my mind. But the more they tried, the more uninterested I became.

There was Jeno, the captain of the soccer team, who thought flashing his abs would do the trick. Then there was Haechan, the self-proclaimed "class clown," who sent me a barrage of memes to get my attention. And let's not forget Chenle, who serenaded me in the cafeteria, completely off-key, much to everyone's amusement. It was all so desperate, so pathetic. None of them had a clue about what I really wanted.

The thing is, I wasn't interested in just going to prom with anyone. It had to be someone special, someone who made me feel like more than just the queen bee of the school. But all these guys? They just looked like shit—shallow, predictable, and completely lacking in substance. I didn't need a prom date to prove my popularity; I needed someone who could match my vibe, someone with depth and style. And so far, none of these guys even came close.

As the days passed, I could sense the tension building. My refusals became a hot topic among the gossipers, and everyone wanted to know who I'd choose. Would I go with the guy who offered a limousine? The one with the guitar? Or maybe I'd surprise everyone and show up with a total stranger. The speculation was endless, but I kept my cards close to my chest.

Deep down, I knew who I really wanted to go with. It was the same guy who had caught my eye weeks ago, the one who didn't need to try too hard to be cool. Na Jaemin. He hadn't asked me yet, but I had a feeling he would, and when he did, I'd say yes in a heartbeat. Because unlike all the other boys, he had that effortless charm, that quiet confidence that made my heart skip a beat.

Prom night was just around the corner, and I had no intention of settling for anything less than extraordinary. I'd let the other guys sweat it out, wondering who I'd choose, but in my mind, I already knew. I was waiting for Jaemin to make his move, and I was ready to say yes. Because while the other boys might look like shit, he was the one who made me feel alive.

The prom was less than a week away, and I still hadn't said yes to anyone. Not that I didn't have offers—far from it. I had a stack of crumpled notes, elaborate messages on social media, and even a couple of homemade cupcakes with "Prom?" spelled out in frosting. But none of these attempts did anything for me. They all seemed forced, like they were trying to buy my favor with a flashy gimmick.

What I was waiting for, though, was for Jaemin to ask me. He was the one who had caught my eye from the moment he transferred to our school. With his effortless style and those eyes that seemed to see through the façade I carefully crafted, he was different from all the others. He didn't try to impress me with grand gestures or desperate attempts for attention. Instead, he was just... Jaemin.

So when I saw him walking down the hallway towards me, my pulse quickened. He had that confident stride, the kind that made people instinctively move out of his way. His hair was perfectly tousled, falling across his forehead in that casual yet deliberate way. But it was his eyes that did it—the way they locked onto mine with a hint of mischief, like he knew something I didn't. The air around him seemed to hum with electricity.

As he approached, I tried to play it cool. I leaned against the locker, crossing my arms in a way that I hoped looked casual, though my heart was racing like a drumline at a pep rally. He stopped in front of me, his lips curling into that subtle smile that always made me weak in the knees. It wasn't a full grin, just enough to reveal a dimple on his left cheek. I wondered if he knew how devastatingly charming he was. Of course, he did.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and smooth. He wasn't loud like the other guys who'd asked me to prom, all bravado and nervous laughter. He spoke with a quiet confidence, like he didn't need to prove anything. That made it even more intriguing.

"Hey," I replied, hoping I didn't sound as breathless as I felt. I could see other students watching from the corner of my eye, curious about what was happening. This wasn't just another prom proposal—this was Jaemin asking me.

"So, prom's coming up," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "You got a date yet?"

I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "I've had a few offers," I replied, a smirk playing on my lips. "But I haven't found the right one yet."

His smile widened, just a bit. "What about me? Would I be the right one?"

It was a simple question, but the way he asked it, the way he looked at me like he could see right through my confident exterior, made my heart flutter. I felt the familiar rush, that sense of power and excitement that came with being the center of attention. But with Jaemin, it was different. I wasn't just another pretty face to him; he saw something more.

"I think you could be," I said, unable to hide the smile that spread across my lips. "If you're lucky."

He laughed softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Lucky, huh? I'll take my chances." And with that, he leaned in slightly, his eyes holding mine. "So, is that a yes?"

I nodded, feeling a thrill that I hadn't felt with any of the other guys who'd asked me. "Yeah, that's a yes."

The buzz in the hallway grew louder as he smiled and gave me a nod, like we'd just shared a secret that no one else understood. I knew in that moment that this was going to be a prom to remember. Jaemin had a way of making me feel like the most important person in the room, even when we were surrounded by a crowd. It was the way he spoke, the way he smiled, and the way he looked at me with those intense eyes. As he walked away, I couldn't help but grin. I was ready for whatever came next.

My room was buzzing with energy as I prepared for prom night. The evening sky outside my window was darkening, casting a warm glow through my curtains, but inside, my room was a whirlwind of activity. “Maneater” by Nelly Furtado blasted through my speakers, filling the space with its infectious beat and fierce lyrics. It was the perfect soundtrack for my pre-prom ritual—a blend of confidence and allure, just like the look I was going for tonight.

My makeup desk was a mess of cosmetics, brushes, and hair accessories. I had set up a large mirror, framed with soft LED lights that bathed my face in a flattering glow. Lipsticks, eyeshadows, and blushes were strewn across the surface, with my favorite perfume bottle—a sleek glass container with a hint of rose and vanilla—sitting proudly in the center. The chaos was controlled, though, with everything I needed within easy reach.

I started with my eyes, using a smoky eyeshadow palette to create a dramatic look. The rich grays and blacks blended seamlessly, adding depth and mystery. I carefully applied eyeliner, creating a sharp wing that elongated my eyes, making them even more captivating. A few coats of mascara made my lashes look impossibly long and thick. Each stroke was deliberate, each layer building on the last to create a seductive gaze that would be impossible to ignore.

Next, I moved on to my lips. I chose a deep red shade, bold and confident. It glided on smoothly, the color vivid against my skin. I blotted with a tissue, then reapplied to ensure it would last through the night. The red lipstick was the perfect contrast to the dark eye makeup, a combination that screamed glamour and seduction.

As the music thumped in the background, I turned my attention to my hair. I had already washed and dried it, so it was ready to be styled. I opted for loose waves, using a large curling iron to create soft, flowing curls that framed my face. The hair tumbled over my shoulders, bouncing with each movement. I sprayed a light mist of hairspray to keep everything in place, but not so much that it felt stiff. It was all about looking effortlessly alluring.

Finally, it was time for the dress. I had chosen a sleek, figure-hugging gown in a deep shade of midnight blue. The fabric was smooth and silky, clinging to my curves in all the right places. It had a plunging neckline, showing just enough to be intriguing without crossing into inappropriate territory. The back was low, with delicate straps that crisscrossed, adding a touch of elegance. The dress flowed down to the floor, with a subtle slit on one side, giving me freedom to move—and a hint of allure.

I slipped into the dress, adjusting the straps and smoothing the fabric. It fit perfectly, making me feel like a movie star on the red carpet. I added a pair of strappy silver heels, which gave me a few extra inches of height and made my legs look longer. A simple necklace and a pair of dangly earrings completed the look, adding just the right amount of sparkle.

As I stood in front of the mirror, I took a moment to appreciate the transformation. The girl looking back at me was ready for prom, ready to turn heads, and, most importantly, ready to see Na Jaemin's reaction. The vibe in my room was electric, the music pumping, the air filled with excitement. Tonight was going to be a night to remember, and I was prepared to make an entrance no one would forget.

As I stood in front of the mirror, the final touches to my prom look in place, I couldn't help but smile. But this wasn't just any smile. It was the kind of smile that curled at the corners, revealing just a hint of teeth—a smile that suggested I knew something others didn't. It was a slow smile, spreading across my lips like a secret unfolding. The way my lips curved upward, slightly crooked, gave the reflection in the mirror an eerie edge.

My eyes narrowed slightly, the smoky makeup accentuating the intensity in my gaze. It was as if I was gazing through the mirror into another world, a place where I held all the power, all the control. The dim lighting in my room cast shadows across my cheekbones, enhancing the effect. The look I gave myself was confident, almost predatory, like a lioness sizing up her prey before the hunt.

As the music played on, the pulsating beat in the background seemed to echo the rhythm of my heart. Each thump was a reminder that tonight was mine, and I intended to own it. The smile I gave myself was a warning to anyone who might cross my path—I was ready to be the center of attention, and nothing would stand in my way.

The eerie quality of my smile came from the unspoken confidence behind it. It was a smile that suggested I knew my worth, that I was ready to claim my place at the top. It was alluring and intimidating at the same time, the kind of smile that could charm and unsettle in equal measure. I felt a rush of excitement, knowing that this was the look I'd carry with me throughout the night, a reminder to everyone that I was not to be underestimated.

The reflection in the mirror stared back at me, and for a moment, it felt like I was looking at someone else—a darker, more confident version of myself. But as I continued to smile, I realized that this was who I truly was: a force to be reckoned with, someone who could command a room with just a glance. It was exhilarating, and I knew I was ready for whatever prom night had in store.

My phone buzzed on my makeup desk, its screen lighting up with a notification. My heart leaped at the thought of Na Jaemin. I grabbed it, hoping it was him—and it was. The message was simple: "I'm outside." My excitement shot through the roof. The fact that he was here, at my door, sent a surge of energy through me. I rushed downstairs, my heels clicking against the hardwood floor. The house was eerily quiet; my parents were out of the country on business, so there was no one else home. This moment was mine alone, and I was ready to embrace it.

I reached the door, took a deep breath to steady myself, and opened it with a smile. Jaemin stood there, looking dashing in his prom suit. It was a classic black tuxedo, tailored perfectly to his lean frame. The jacket hugged his shoulders, giving him a sharp silhouette. He wore a crisp white dress shirt underneath, with a black bowtie that added a touch of sophistication. The contrast of the dark suit against his pale skin was striking, and his black hair fell naturally across his forehead, giving him an effortlessly cool vibe.

As he looked at me, I could see the surprise in his eyes. They widened slightly, a mix of awe and confusion, as if he wasn't expecting me to look quite like this. My dress, with its seductive cut and deep neckline, seemed to take him off guard. His eyes traced my figure, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. The slight smirk he usually carried disappeared, replaced by a look of genuine admiration.

"You look... wow," he said, his voice trailing off as he tried to find the right words. "Gorgeous." His eyes locked onto mine, and I could see a hint of lust there, like he was seeing me in a new light. It wasn't just about the dress or the makeup; it was the confidence I exuded, the way I stood with my head held high and that eerie smile playing on my lips.

I laughed softly, a low, melodic sound that seemed to snap him out of his daze. "Thanks," I replied, leaning against the doorframe, my posture relaxed but alluring. His reaction was everything I had hoped for, and I could feel the power that came with it. Jaemin was the kind of guy who rarely showed his emotions, but tonight, he couldn't hide the way he felt. The suit gave him an air of sophistication, but it was his eyes—those lustful, dark eyes—that revealed his true thoughts.

As he extended his hand, inviting me to step outside, I could sense the electricity in the air. It was going to be a night to remember, and I was ready to make it unforgettable. With Jaemin by my side, looking as dashing as he did, I knew we'd turn heads the moment we walked into prom. But for now, I was content to let him take in the sight of me, knowing that this was just the beginning of a night filled with surprises.

Jaemin had his dad's car, a sleek black sedan that glistened under the streetlights. As he opened the passenger door for me, I couldn't help but notice how the suit accentuated his tall frame. He flashed me a grin, a hint of mischief in his eyes, and I slid into the seat with a soft rustle of my dress. The night was cool, a light breeze drifting through the open windows as we drove toward the prom venue. The city lights blurred past, a cascade of colors and movement.

The prom was being held at the city's grand hotel, a venue known for its extravagant events. As we pulled up, a line of other cars stretched down the block, all filled with couples in their prom best. The hotel was lit up, golden chandeliers visible through the large windows. A red carpet had been laid out, leading to the grand entrance, and photographers snapped pictures of each arriving couple.

Inside, the ballroom was stunning. High ceilings with intricate designs, walls adorned with draped fabric, and a massive chandelier that cast a warm glow over the entire space. The DJ booth was set up at one end, with speakers booming a mix of dance tracks and popular hits. People were already dancing, a vibrant crowd swirling in the middle of the floor. Tables lined the edges, covered with crisp white tablecloths and decorated with floral centerpieces.

Jaemin led me through the crowd, his hand resting lightly on my lower back. The energy was electric, a mix of excitement and nerves. We passed by a buffet table, where trays of appetizers and finger foods beckoned. Mini quiches, sliders, and a variety of desserts were on display. A chocolate fountain stood at the center, with skewers for dipping fruits and marshmallows. People mingled around, laughing and talking, their faces lit by the soft glow of the chandelier.

Jaemin guided me to the dance floor, and as we reached the center, the DJ slowed the music to a romantic ballad. The crowd thinned, leaving just a few couples swaying to the gentle rhythm. Jaemin turned to face me, his eyes locking onto mine. He extended his hand, and I took it, feeling the warmth of his touch. He pulled me closer, his other hand resting lightly on my waist.

We moved together, our steps slow and deliberate. The world seemed to slow down, the music becoming a soothing backdrop as we swayed. Jaemin's eyes never left mine, a soft smile playing on his lips. His movements were gentle but firm, guiding me effortlessly across the floor. The gentle sway of my dress and the smooth glide of his suit added to the dreamlike quality of the moment.

As we danced, Jaemin leaned in, his voice low and intimate, almost a whisper. "You know," he said, his eyes locking with mine, "I've never met anyone like you. You light up the room just by walking in." His words sent a shiver down my spine, the sincerity in his voice making my heart flutter.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. "That's because you're the one who's making me glow," I replied, my voice just as soft. The way he looked at me, the way his hand gently held mine, made me believe that tonight was something special, something that would last beyond this one dance.

He smiled, his dimple appearing as his eyes sparkled. "I hope this isn't our last dance," he said, his tone hopeful, almost playful. "I was kind of hoping you'd let me stick around a bit longer."

I nodded, the slow music and the closeness between us creating a perfect moment. "I'd like that," I said, our eyes meeting in a shared understanding. As the song played on, we continued to sway, the world around us fading away, leaving just the two of us, lost in the rhythm of the dance and the promise of something more.

The dance floor was crowded, and the noise seemed to grow louder with each passing song. I looked around and caught Jaemin's eye, giving him a sly smile. Without saying a word, I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the crowd, weaving through the throngs of people. He followed, his grip firm but gentle, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down my spine.

I led him through a small door at the side of the ballroom, down a dimly lit corridor, and out into a hidden garden. The contrast between the noise inside and the serene silence outside was striking. The garden was magnificent, reminiscent of the one in the "Cinderella" movie, with a magical quality that made everything feel enchanted.

Tall hedges bordered the garden, providing a sense of seclusion and intimacy. The pathways were lined with soft, glowing lanterns that cast a warm, inviting light. Flowers of every color and variety filled the space, their petals illuminated in the gentle glow. A central fountain stood at the heart of the garden, its waters cascading gently, adding to the tranquil ambiance.

Jaemin looked around, his eyes wide with wonder. "Wow," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "This place is incredible."

I nodded, leading him to a stone bench near the fountain. The garden was ours alone, a hidden oasis in the midst of the bustling prom. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming roses and the distant sound of music from the ballroom. It felt like we had stepped into another world, a place where time moved slowly and the rest of the world didn't matter.

We sat down on the bench, our shoulders brushing lightly. The tension between us was palpable, a mix of excitement and nervousness. I could feel the heat of his body next to mine, and the closeness made my heart race. Jaemin seemed to sense it too, his eyes darting from the fountain to me, as if he were searching for the right words.

"So, why did you bring me out here?" he asked, a playful smirk on his lips. "Tired of the crowd already?"

I laughed softly, my gaze fixed on the fountain's flowing water. "I just wanted some quiet," I replied, turning to meet his eyes. "And I wanted to talk to you, without all the noise and chaos."

Jaemin nodded, his expression softening. "I get that," he said. "It's nice to get away from it all, even if it's just for a little while." He paused, then looked at me with a hint of curiosity. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

I hesitated for a moment, feeling a mix of excitement and vulnerability. This was the first time I had him alone, away from the expectations and rumors that came with being the most popular girl in school. I wanted to know him, really know him, beyond the charming facade he presented to everyone else.

"I guess I just want to know more about you," I said, my voice softer now. "We don't really get to talk much at school. You're always so quiet, but I can tell there's more to you."

Jaemin smiled, his dimple appearing. "There's not much to tell," he said, his tone light. "I'm just a guy trying to figure things out, like everyone else."

I shook my head, leaning in a bit closer. "That's not true," I replied. "You're different. There's something about you that... I don't know. It just feels different."

Jaemin's eyes met mine, and I could see a spark of interest there. "Maybe you're different too," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Maybe that's why you notice it."

The garden seemed to grow quieter, the lanterns casting a soft glow around us. I could feel the tension building, the unspoken connection that was forming between us. It was like we were on the edge of something, something new and exciting. I didn't know where it would lead, but I was eager to find out.

His dark hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly charming. His eyes sparkled in the dim light, and every so often, his gaze would meet mine, sending a thrill through me. I knew I had him, knew he was caught in my web, but I wanted more. The evening had been perfect so far, but I craved that one moment, that spark that would make this night unforgettable.

I leaned in, my eyes locking with his. His lips parted slightly, as if he was expecting something, and I knew I had him exactly where I wanted him. My heart raced as I closed the distance, our breaths mingling in the cool night air. The first touch of our lips was gentle, almost hesitant, but there was an underlying current of desire that couldn't be ignored.

I pressed closer, deepening the kiss, feeling the warmth of his breath against my skin. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me in, and the world seemed to spin. The kiss grew more intense, each moment building on the last. What started as a soft brush of lips became something more urgent, more demanding.

His hands moved to my waist, drawing me closer, and I responded in kind, my fingers tracing the lines of his shoulders. The kiss was no longer gentle; it was fiery, filled with a hunger that could only be quenched by each other. I could feel his heart racing against my chest, matching the rapid pace of my own. The heat between us grew, and the garden seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us locked in this passionate embrace.

We eventually pulled back, our breaths heavy, our eyes locked. The garden was still there, the fairy lights still twinkling, but everything felt different now. The connection between us was undeniable, and I knew that this night would be one I would never forget. The moon continued to shine above us, casting its light on our tangled forms, a silent witness to the intensity of our kiss and the promise of what was yet to come.

As I pulled away, Na Jaemin's eyes were wide with surprise. The intensity of our kiss had left him breathless, his chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. His normally calm and composed demeanor had shattered, replaced by a look of stunned awe. The shock in his expression was a mix of confusion and intrigue, as if he couldn't quite believe what had just happened.

His lips were slightly parted, still tingling from the kiss, and his fingers hovered near his mouth as if to remind himself that it wasn't a dream. He took a step back, a hand reaching out to steady himself against the stone wall of the garden. The twinkling fairy lights around us seemed to reflect in his eyes, giving them a luminous quality that made him seem even more captivating.

"Did... did that really happen?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. It was as if he was trying to piece together what had just transpired, and I couldn't help but smile at his reaction. I knew I had taken him by surprise, and that was precisely what I had intended.

I nodded, the playful smile on my lips deepening. "Yes, it did," I replied, my voice laced with a hint of mischief. "Why? Did it surprise you?"

Jaemin shook his head, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. "Surprise is an understatement," he admitted, his cheeks flushing a shade of pink that made him look even more charming. "I wasn't expecting that... at all."

I took a step forward, closing the distance between us once more. The air between us was charged with an electric energy, and I could tell he was still reeling from the intensity of our kiss. His eyes searched mine, as if looking for answers to questions he couldn't quite put into words.

"Was it too much?" I asked, my voice soft but teasing. I wanted to see how far I could push him, to see if he would retreat or meet me halfway.

He hesitated, his gaze flickering from my eyes to my lips and back again. "No, it was just... unexpected," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "But I'm not complaining." He tried to sound confident, but the slight tremor in his words gave him away.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, "Good. Because there's a lot more where that came from." I could feel him shiver at my words, and I knew that the night was far from over. The garden was ours, and the possibilities were endless.

Na Jaemin blinked, as if he was trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling around us. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves above, but it was no match for the storm of passion brewing between us. His eyes searched mine for answers, a question forming on his lips, but I wasn’t ready for words—not yet.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I leaned in, catching him off guard with another kiss. This time, I was bolder, more aggressive, my lips pressing against his with a hunger that left him breathless. The shock registered in his eyes, but it quickly melted away into something else—something raw and untamed.

The scent of him was intoxicating, a mix of cologne and the natural warmth of his skin. It drove me wild, and I pulled him closer, my hands tangling in his hair as I deepened the kiss. There was no hesitation now, no holding back. I was a maneater, and he was my prey, helpless against the surge of desire that coursed through me.

Jaemin stumbled backward, his back pressing against the stone wall, but I didn’t let him get away. I pressed into him, my body molding against his, our kiss growing fiercer with each passing second. His hands found their way to my waist, gripping tightly, as if he needed something solid to hold onto in the midst of the chaos.

He tried to speak again, but I didn’t let him. My kiss silenced him, my tongue tracing the curve of his lips before exploring deeper. The taste of him was addictive, and I couldn’t get enough. It was as if every touch, every kiss, only fueled the fire inside me, making me crave him even more.

The garden around us seemed to fade away, the twinkling fairy lights and the soothing sound of the fountain disappearing into the background. All that mattered was the heat between us, the way his body responded to mine, the way his breathing grew more ragged with each stolen kiss.

I pulled back for a moment, my breath hot against his cheek. “No questions,” I whispered, my voice low and husky. “Just let me have you.” The words sent a shiver down his spine, and I could see the way his eyes darkened with desire.

He nodded, unable to speak, and I took that as my cue to claim him once more. My kiss was rough, unrelenting, driven by the thirst that had been building all night. The way he tasted, the way his body yielded to mine—it was everything I wanted, everything I needed.

Jaemin’s grip tightened, and he pulled me even closer, our bodies pressed together as if we could merge into one. It was a kiss that spoke of desire and need, a kiss that left no room for doubt or hesitation. It was just us, caught in a whirlwind of passion, and nothing else mattered.

(jaemin’s pov) :

As I stood there, trying to catch my breath, I couldn't help but notice something strange about her eyes. They weren't just intense—they seemed to glow, reflecting the faint light in a way that didn't seem quite natural. It was as if the darkness of the garden had come alive in her gaze, and it sent a chill down my spine.

She tilted her head, her lips curled into a predatory smile. It wasn't the playful grin I had come to know; it was something else, something darker. It reminded me of the look in Jennifer Check's eyes in that movie, "Jennifer's Body." It was as if she could see right through me, as if I was just another prey to be hunted.

The light from the fairy lights flickered across her face, casting shadows that made her features look sharp and angular. Her eyes, once warm and inviting, now seemed cold and piercing. The transformation was subtle yet striking. I wasn't just surprised—I was startled. This wasn't the same girl I had been laughing with earlier in the night; this was someone—or something—else entirely.

Her posture shifted, her movements fluid and predatory. It was as if she had shed her human guise, revealing something much more dangerous underneath. I tried to convince myself that it was just my imagination, that the shadows were playing tricks on me, but the way she watched me, unblinking and unyielding, made it hard to dismiss the feeling that something had changed.

I took a step back, my instincts screaming at me to put some distance between us. The garden, once a romantic setting filled with roses and soft lights, now felt like a trap, its beauty hiding something sinister. I had always joked about her being a maneater, but now it didn't seem so funny. The way she moved, the way she smiled, it was like she was a hunter closing in on her prey.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I wasn't sure what else to say. I wanted to believe that she was still the girl I knew, but the look in her eyes made me doubt everything.

She didn't respond. Instead, she took a step forward, her eyes never leaving mine. The intensity in her gaze grew, and I felt my heart race with a mixture of fear and excitement. This was no longer just a prom night—this was something else entirely, something that I couldn't quite understand.

I swallowed hard, trying to calm my racing heart. "Maybe we should... take a break," I suggested, my voice shaky. But from the way she was looking at me, I knew she wasn't planning on stopping. She was hungry, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to find out just how much.

I forced myself to look into her eyes, hoping to find a hint of the warmth I had known earlier. But what I saw made me swallow hard. There was a hunger there, a dark intensity that I couldn't quite place. It was as if she had shed her humanity, revealing something more primal beneath the surface. The light from the fairy lights caught in her eyes, turning them into cold, gleaming orbs that seemed to pierce right through me.

My breath caught in my throat as she took another step forward, her gaze never leaving mine. I raised a hand, hoping to create some space, but it felt like a futile gesture. Her presence was overwhelming, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was standing on the edge of something dangerous.

"You didn't even look human," I said, my voice filled with confusion and a touch of fear. "Are you actually okay?"

She didn't answer right away, her lips curling into a slow, predatory smile. It was a smile that held no warmth, only a hint of something that sent a shiver down my spine. I took a step back, trying to put some distance between us, but she followed, her movements graceful yet predatory.

"Seriously, what's going on?" I asked, my voice wavering. "This isn't funny. Are you okay?"

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she was studying me, assessing my reaction. The silence between us grew heavy, the garden no longer the romantic setting it once was. Instead, it felt like a place where the boundaries between the real and the unreal had blurred, and I was caught in the middle.

Her silence was unnerving, her gaze unrelenting. I felt the pulse in my neck quicken, my instincts screaming at me to get away, but I couldn't move. It was like I was rooted to the spot, unable to tear my eyes away from hers. Whatever was happening, it was beyond anything I could understand. The girl I knew was gone, replaced by someone—or something—that made me question everything.

When she lunged, it happened so fast that I had no time to react. One moment, we were standing face to face in the dim light of the garden; the next, I was on the ground, my back hitting the grass with a hard thud. The shock of the impact sent a jolt through my spine, but it was nothing compared to the sheer force of her strength. It was as if she had become superhuman, her grip like iron as she pinned me down.

"Relax," she said, her voice low and smooth. Her eyes bore into mine, unblinking and cold. "I'm just a little... hungry." Her lips curled into a smile that sent a shiver of fear down my spine, the kind that made every instinct scream for me to get up, to run. But I couldn't move. She held me there with an iron grip, her hands pressing into my shoulders, her knees on either side of me. I tried to push back, to roll out from under her, but it was useless. She was too strong, impossibly strong.

Panic rose in my chest as I struggled against her grip, but it was like trying to push against a stone wall. Her eyes remained fixed on me, and there was a hunger in them that went beyond mere desire—it was primal, feral, something that I had never seen before. The beautiful garden around us seemed to disappear, the fairy lights and the gentle breeze fading into the background as all I could focus on was her and the darkness that had taken over her gaze.

"What's happening?" I managed to gasp, my voice shaky with fear. My heart raced, thumping against my chest, but she just smiled down at me, her grip tightening as I struggled to break free.

"Shhh," she whispered, leaning in closer. Her breath was hot against my ear, sending a chill through me. "Don't fight it. It won't hurt... much."

The words sent a wave of terror through me. I had come to this prom with a girl I thought I knew, but this... this was something else entirely. I tried to twist away, to get to my feet, but she was too strong. It was like she had an unnatural power, a strength that defied all logic. I was trapped, held down by someone who didn't seem human anymore.

I looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of the girl I had danced with earlier, the girl who had made me laugh and had kissed me with such passion. But she was gone. All that was left was this creature, this demon who seemed driven by a hunger she couldn't control.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Let me go."

She didn't answer. Instead, she leaned in, her lips hovering over mine. The hunger in her gaze was terrifying, but there was also something else—a flicker of sadness, a hint that maybe, just maybe, there was still some part of her that cared. But it was buried deep, overshadowed by the darkness that had taken hold.

I knew I was in over my head. The prom, the garden, all of it seemed like a distant memory. All that mattered now was finding a way out, a way to escape this nightmare. But as I looked into her eyes, I knew it wasn't going to be easy. The hunger in her was too strong, and I wasn't sure if she could—or would—resist it.

(narrator’s pov) :

I released him suddenly, my grip loosening as if something within me snapped. The change was abrupt, like a switch had been flipped, and I pushed myself off him and ran, vanishing into the shadows of the woods. The darkness swallowed me whole, my figure a blur against the trees as I disappeared into the night. The garden fell silent, the only sound the rustling of leaves and the distant murmurs of the prom music.

Jaemin lay on the ground, dazed and confused, his heart racing from the sudden release. The pain from the kiss lingered, a sharp reminder of how intense and forceful it had been. His lips were bruised, his skin still warm from my touch, and he rubbed his shoulders, feeling the marks where my hands had gripped him. It was as if a whirlwind had torn through his world, leaving chaos in its wake.

As he sat up, trying to make sense of what had just happened, he heard it—a sound from the woods. It was distant at first, a faint howl that echoed through the trees. He froze, listening, his instincts on high alert. The howl grew louder, a raw and anguished cry that sent a shiver down his spine. It sounded like an animal, but there was something unsettling about it, something almost human in its pain.

Jaemin felt a surge of fear. The garden, once a place of romance and beauty, now felt like the edge of a dark and foreboding wilderness. The howling continued, each wail sending a chill through the night air. It was as if the woods themselves had come alive with some unseen torment, the cries a warning of the dangers that lurked within.

He got to his feet, his knees shaky, and backed away slowly, his eyes darting between the garden and the woods. The fairy lights seemed dimmer, their soft glow unable to pierce the darkness that had settled around him. The howling grew louder, more urgent, as if something out there was calling for help—or seeking revenge.

Jaemin felt a wave of uncertainty. Should he follow? Should he try to find me in the darkness, to understand what had driven me into the woods so suddenly? Or should he run, get away from the nightmare that was unfolding? The howl echoed again, sharp and anguished, and he knew that whatever lay in the woods was not something to be taken lightly.

The garden seemed to hold its breath, the air tense and filled with foreboding. Jaemin took another step back, his heart racing, knowing that this prom night had turned into something far more sinister than he could have ever imagined.

The howling in the woods grew louder, its haunting echoes cutting through the night air. Jaemin's instincts screamed at him to run, to get as far away from the garden and the unsettling sounds as possible. But something held him back, a nagging sense of guilt mixed with a surge of curiosity. I had vanished into the woods so suddenly, and despite the fear, a part of him felt compelled to find me, to help if he could.

He took a few hesitant steps toward the edge of the garden, peering into the darkness. The trees loomed like silent sentinels, their branches casting long shadows that seemed to shift with every gust of wind. The howls had stopped, replaced by an eerie silence that was somehow even more unnerving.

Jaemin edged forward, his breath shallow, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him, something lurking just beyond his line of sight. As he moved closer to the tree line, he saw a figure standing by one of the larger trees. It was me. I was standing there, facing him, the moonlight casting a ghostly glow on my tangled hair and my prom dress stained with blood.

His eyes widened in horror as he took in the sight. Blood smeared across my mouth and down the front of my dress, splattered in dark streaks against the fabric. My hair was a wild mess, strands tangled and matted, and my eyes—those once bright and inviting eyes—were now cold and empty, devoid of the warmth they once held.

I smiled at him, a slow, chilling smile that sent a shiver down his spine. There was something feral about my expression, something that spoke of a hunger that couldn't be sated. I tilted my head, watching him with an intensity that made him feel like a cornered prey.

"Jaemin," I said, my voice low and husky, carrying a hint of the same hunger that was written across my blood-stained lips. "You came back. I'm glad."

He tried to find words, to make sense of the scene before him, but nothing came out. His legs felt weak, his hands trembling as he fought the urge to turn and run. But he couldn't move, couldn't tear his eyes away from me.

"What... what happened?" he finally managed to ask, his voice shaky with fear. He knew the answer even before I spoke. The wolf howling in the woods, the blood on my mouth—it all pointed to one chilling conclusion.

I took a step forward, my gaze locked on him. "I was just a little hungry," I replied, my smile widening. "But now I'm full."

Jaemin felt a wave of nausea, his stomach turning at the thought of what I had done. The girl he had danced with, the girl who had kissed him so passionately, was gone, replaced by something monstrous. He knew he should run, that every instinct screamed for him to get away. But he couldn't move, couldn't look away from the horror that stood before him.

As quickly as I had appeared, I was gone. I darted into the shadows of the woods, vanishing like a wraith into the night, leaving Jaemin alone in the darkness. He stood there for a moment, his mind racing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The blood-stained dress, the tangled hair, the feral look in my eyes—it was all too much to process. He stumbled his way out of the woods, his heart pounding, feeling like the world had turned upside down.

That night, back in his bedroom, he couldn't stop thinking about me. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying the night's events over and over. The kiss was still fresh in his memory, his lips still tender and swollen from its roughness. He sat up and looked in the mirror, seeing the redness and the slight bruising where my lips had pressed against his. He winced at the pain, but it wasn't just physical—it was emotional too. What had he seen in the woods? What was I becoming?

The next morning, Jaemin got ready for school in a daze. He couldn't bring himself to tell anyone what had happened. The trauma of the night before weighed heavily on him, and he knew he needed time to process it all. He kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with everyone as he walked through the crowded school hallway.

But then, he saw me.

Jaemin felt a cold chill as he watched me stroll down the hallway, my steps light and my demeanor carefree. The bright glow of my skin, the bounce in my hair, and the effortless way I moved—it was all so normal, so... human. Yet he couldn't forget the feral intensity in my eyes from the night before, the blood that stained my lips, my dress. How could I be so calm, so completely at ease after everything that had happened?

He approached me cautiously, his heart racing. It was as if he was stepping into a surreal dream, uncertain of what he might find. I noticed him coming and flashed that same dazzling smile, as if I hadn’t just devoured a wolf and left him alone in the woods to overthink it all night.

"You're fine?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and disbelief. It was a simple question, but loaded with all the uncertainty and fear that had plagued him since I vanished into the trees.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I replied, my tone light and carefree, as though I hadn't a single worry in the world. My smile was disarming, my eyes bright and lively, devoid of any trace of the darkness that had consumed me the previous night.

Jaemin hesitated, struggling to find the words. He opened his mouth to say something, to express his confusion, his fear, but nothing came out. The hallway was filled with other students, their laughter and chatter filling the air, and I seemed perfectly at home among them.

Before he could say anything else, I turned away, joining a group of friends who greeted me with enthusiasm. It was as if the entire incident had never happened, like it was all just a bad dream. But Jaemin knew better. He had seen the blood, felt the force of my grip, and witnessed the savage look in my eyes. There was something beneath the surface, something that I was hiding with my charming smiles and casual words.

As I walked away, Jaemin stood there, feeling more alone than ever. He was left with the unsettling realization that what he had seen the night before was real, and yet here I was, acting as if it was all perfectly normal. The unease lingered, a constant reminder that the nightmare might not be over. But for now, all he could do was watch and wait, unsure of what might happen next.