#just chill there ms curiosity

[kelmcdonald]

The Better to Find You With Page 33: Who's Asking, Lady?

The City Between is also available to read here!

[sweetshuga]

Lurking ✰ MS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

stalker!matt! One skip in your mundane pattern results in something far from boring.

The days went by a blur for you—everything was back to the same old. Despite the frightening nature of what happened that day, you found yourself wondering if he’ll be there, following you. "What kind of insane fucking fantasies are you even having? You’re crazy," you mumbled to yourself as you walked home from work just like any other day. The sky had already turned a darker hue, the night cold and chilling.

This time around, however, you didn’t smoke, breaking your mundane pattern. You could really use a good smoke but had lost your lighter, much to your dismay. Having no source of fire to light your cigarette up with, you reluctantly resorted to chewing a gum you found in your bag—to keep your mouth and mind busy.

The streetlights shone a path from above, adding a cozy atmosphere to the bleak night. The soft hum of your favourite song, you were blasting your ears with, was the only sound except for your heels clacking on the concrete— and another pair of much heavier ones.

𓆩♡𓆪

It wasn’t until you rounded the corner to your street that you noticed the man.

You turned around this time, curiosity clouding better judgement. He looked at you, unmoving, stared at you. You froze for a moment, not sure what to make of this situation. The man didn’t move for a solid eerie minute before starting to walk. As he got closer to you, your gaze raked over him, inspecting him, just in case.

His hair was messy, there were smears of black around his eyes, black paint? eyeshadow? You couldn't tell, but he had easily masked his identity with just some simple make up—sly bastard.

He walked past you, and you let out a sigh of relief until... something glinted in the streetlights, a sharp silver object – a knife – clutched tightly by the handle in his hand.

The brief relief was replaced with pure horror. What was he doing parading around with a knife? You thought to yourself before briskly walking towards your house, and got in through the front door safely.

"Jesus fucking Christ... What is happening?" You whispered to yourself, locking the front door and closing the living room and kitchen curtains, locking the back door, just in case. He couldn’t possibly climb up your second story window, could he?

𓆩♡𓆪

After pacing the living room in slight panic, you noticed that nothing was happening. Relieved, you walked upstairs to your bedroom to change out of your office clothing... Only to find a note and a new lighter on your beside table.

Your breath hitched as you looked around, your eyes wide and panicked. Shaky hands reached down to the note."For you – M" Your gaze fell down to the lighter, gradient blue and with a name in the middle, your name.

Stage 2: Life invasion—leaving unwanted objects, items.

He left you a lighter and a note.

𓆩♡𓆪

stage. 1 3 4

wc. 485

note. English is not my first language!

Isa's notes. I wrote this like dead tired at 4am so if it's ass, that's probably why it is.

for you babes<3 @poolover123 @unknvhx

xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪

© sweetshuga

[jadegretz]

Jessica Rabbit: Ravishing Redhead of the Silver Screen by Jade Gretz

The scent of trouble clung to Jessica Rabbit like Roger's spilled seltzer. It wasn't the usual philandering toon drama, nor some jealous rival vying for her spotlight. This was colder, deeper - a disquiet that gnawed at the very edges of Toontown. It started with Benny the Cab. One minute he was happily chauffeuring tourists, the next, a poof of smoke and a faint echo of laughter. Then came Ms. Grunion, the sardonic gossip columnist, vanished mid-sentence, leaving behind only a fluttering butterfly-shaped brooch. The disappearances, all high-profile cartoons, had a chilling efficiency.

"Something's rotten in Toontown, doll," Roger fidgeted, his normally jaunty grin replaced by a worried furrow. Jessica ran a hand through her crimson mane, the ruby brooch at her chest seeming to hum with an unsettling warmth. "Don't worry, Puddin'," she assured him, her voice a steely whisper, "I'll get to the bottom of this." It wasn't just about protecting Toontown, though that was a given. Jessica, for all her glamour, possessed a fierce investigative spirit fueled by a childhood spent poring over detective novels. This was a puzzle, and Jessica Rabbit wasn't one to back down from a challenge.

Her first lead came from a dusty corner of the Maroon Cartoon Archives, a place untouched by time (or at least, the chaotic kind that plagued Toontown). A faded ledger mentioned the "Inkwell of Infinite Possibilities," a relic from the forgotten era of Black and White cartoons. Whispers spoke of its power to bend reality, to rewrite storylines with a single dip of the pen. Could it be linked to the disappearances?

Finding the Inkwell was no easy feat. It wasn't a shining artifact guarded by snarling beasts; it was hidden in plain sight, disguised as a chipped porcelain well in the courtyard of an abandoned animation studio, overrun by thorny vines. As Jessica pushed through the undergrowth, a raven squawked, its beady eyes gleaming with malevolent curiosity. The air crackled with an unnatural stillness, broken only by the rustle of unseen things.

Just as she reached the well, …(see the rest of the story at deviantart.com/jadegretzAI). For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 1: Introductions

“You can’t keep me here! I demand a lawyer! I am an associate of the Hell’s Gate Psychiatric Institution and will not tolerate this denial of justice!”

The security guard bangs his baton against the bars again. “Quiet, Prentiss! You’re lucky you get your own cell. Or would you rather have to share?”

My gaze throws daggers. “I’ll have you know that I am perfectly sane and do not belong in this asylum. I will not cooperate until I speak to a lawyer.”

“That’s too bad,” the guard taunts. “‘Cause I got strict orders not to allow you any visitors.”

I gawk at his idiotic face. “On whose authority?”

“You’ll meet him once his current session is over,” he says as he walks down the hall away from my cell. "I think it’s with Croc if I’m not mistaken.”

Croc? As in Killer Croc? God, why didn’t I just play the game? Why did I have to go beyond my jurisdiction? I already knew Gotham was a rigged and twisted system the second I got here. I’ve gone from a respected psychiatrist to the very type of person I’m supposed to be above. Now all I have to my name is an orange jumpsuit, a pair of cheap sneakers, a toothbrush, and a small copy of the Bible. 

How long have I been waiting? There’s no clock, no windows. No clue to anything happening outside. All I see are beige hallways spanned into a webbed labyrinth that’s meant to keep patients from escaping. Keep me from escaping.

Thud-thud. Thud-thud.

Muffled footsteps echo down through the hall, potentially signaling my approaching contact. At first my heart soars at the hope of finally talking to someone in authority who can get me out; yet as the footsteps grow louder there’s something about them that sends a chill down my spine. It can’t be him. God, I hope it’s not him-

It’s him.

I’ve heard rumors of the dark secrets that go on at Arkham. Crackheads slicing open arteries, schizophrenics keeping doctors up for days on end. One that always highlights itself above the rest is the Scarecrow. And he just opened my cell door.

What I notice first is the eyes. Cold, icy-blue eyes so full of curiosity yet still impassive. Those cold and calculating eyes stare straight through and scan me. It’s a silent battle of how hard his stare can press until I break. I also see how he’s managed to keep his job. One might say he’s handsome but I know better. Just because you were a clean suit does not mean your soul is spotless. He may be able to charm his way into Arkham but I’ll never give in.

“Good afternoon, Ms…?”

The voice doesn’t help either. He does it well. Calm, soft, and smooth. Typical therapist nonsense I see in my line of work every day. Let’s see if I can win this game.

“You should have access to my file, sir. Introductions should not be necessary.”

The man’s eyebrows raise in response to my equally calm tone. Keep the voice calm, keep the eyes alert. I need to discreetly establish dominance in this conversation in order to gain leverage.

“I do have your file. But I prefer personal introductions with my patients.” The man sets a briefcase on the nearby table and takes a seat, then gestures for me to join him. “No need to hide. I’m here to help.”

Straight to the point I see. No use trying to beat around the bush. I step away from the corner I’m leaning against but refuse to sit down.

“There was a mistake.”

The man frowns and pulls out a pad to start taking notes. “What do you mean?”

He wants me to talk, so I will. “I mean I’m not supposed to be here. Someone paid off the judge to have me locked up, and the judge has had it out for me ever since I dug up his affair with the mayor’s wife.”

This intrigues the therapist as he jots down more notes, still looking up to keep his eyes piercing into me. “Are you a reporter?”

“Far from it. I am- was a psychiatrist in Metropolis. I was called to Gotham to help the mayor’s son. No one else was willing to work here.”

“And you are?” He asks with slight surprise though he tries to hide it.

“Metropolis can only take my curiosity so far,” I mutter. “Gotham is unique.”

More scribbling. I must say he’s much more organized than other professionals I’ve worked with. All the more reason to be concerned with the outcome of this conversation.

“I’m going to ask you some questions to start forming your profile.” Crane turns over an hourglass and clicks his pen open.

Basic protocol. There’s no way I’m giving him everything. Thankfully I’ve learned to avoid the telltale signs of lying.

“Full name?”

“Calico Marie Prentiss.”

“Pretty. Family name, I presume?”

Trying to soften me up and dig into my family history. “My father likes unique names, my mother prefers traditional ones. So they compromised.” Use present tense.

“How is your relationship with your family?” the man asks softly.

He has my family history. My job required me to keep an updated profile on personal matters to validate my own mental health. In other words just an excuse for the bored guys at the top to snoop.

“Currently undecided.” They’re dead. What else am I supposed to say?

“Ms. Prentiss, your parents-”

“With all due respect, sir, can we move things along and save that topic for later?” Just get to the part when I can get out of here!

My stern request doesn’t seem to faze the man. “Do you have supportive people in your life?”

Trying to bring me down by addressing empathy links. “People, no. I have other methods of support. And before you ask, I have never done drugs.”

He nods. “Current relationship status?”

This trips my mind a bit. Must be a new questionnaire protocol? 

“Single,” I enunciate in a cold voice.

“Interesting…” More scribbling. Jesus, is he writing a book about me? “Normally people like you are either engaged, married, or divorced. Very rarely do I see any single psychiatrists. Attractive, smart, rich. Very appealing characteristics for a relationship, don’t you think?”

Hm. He asked a question that isn’t based on my profile. Is this for genuine curiosity or a topic of interest for him? After a few seconds of silence go by he continues.

“Your toxicology screening came back clean, as you mentioned before. How many partners have you encountered?”

The question rings in my ear and for an instant my mask slips, but I’m quick to recover.

“None.”

Once again the therapist is surprised. “Catholic, are we?”

“I have my morals. I’m too busy to be worrying about sex, sir. My job comes first.”

More scribbling. God, how much longer?

“Are you having suicidal thoughts right now, or have you had suicidal thoughts within the past month?”

If this questioning goes any longer I may consider it.

“No.”

“Are you having homicidal thoughts, or have you had homicidal thoughts in the past month?”

“Never.”

“How do you cope with stress?”

“Exercise and hard rock. You should try it sometime.” I’m starting to lose my patience and I have to take a slow breath. This is just what he wants. Calm down.

The man hums. “What are some of your strengths?”

“I’m punctual and have a traditional mindset. This tends to drive away disagreeing parties, which is why I’m here.” I step closer and place my hands on the table to face him directly. “You are a head staff member here whether it’s morally correct or not. All I ask is to please allow me to speak to a lawyer, or at least a transfer to Gotham Penitentiary. I am not insane.”

“Morally correct…” he lingers on the thought and tilts his head. “Why would you say that, Ms. Prentiss?”

Just as I thought before, no use beating around the bush.

“I know who you are. Jonathan Crane, a former professor of psychology who’s obsessed with fear. Now you work here experimenting on patients behind the warden’s back.”

Crane’s eyes spark at the mention of fear. Must be a trigger word, perhaps for old memories. “Are you sure you’re not a reporter?” he asks, still in the same soft tone.

I shake my head. “Just a woman who’s not afraid to step on any toes.”

“Ah.” Crane stands up slowly and rummages through his briefcase. After tucking away his notes he looks up with a look that makes my blood run cold. 

“Would you like to see my mask?”

[thecameronchronicles]

Eggnog 2

Part 1!

TW: smut. Language. Public sexual acts. Degrading kink. Cheating.

SUMMARY: your affair with JJ continued.

WORD COUNT: 2000

REQUESTED

Anonymous asked:

Can you maybe do like a part 2 for „Eggnog“ where reader wakes up the next morning and remembers everything. She try’s to act like she didn’t like it and that she doesn’t have a crush on JJ. The whole day (u can choose what they are doing) JJ is whispering things in her ears about the night they had together and other dirty thing he wants to do to her and then it comes to smut again, while topper is near. It would be awesome if you would put some degrading in it! Thank u love!!🫶🏻

Eggnog 2

 Nothing happened. 

This was what you told yourself as you awoke within the bed of the otherwise vacant hotel room. But no matter the repetition in which this mantra was spoken, it would not make it true. Not when the evidence of that night before wore well in the space around you. The sheets stained in sweat and cum, the clothes discarded and crumpled from the rush made of undressing. Of course, these evidentiary momentos could be hidden in a swift cleanse, but the same could not be said for what remained behind of internal proof. 

The way your thighs ached to every movement and even the heat of the shower had only worsened the memory of hsi touch left imprinted within your skin. Or course, you could speak away those marks he left by his greedy fingers and eagerly overzealous lips, as your boyfriend paid little attention to you as is. And for the first time, you didn't feel pain in that realization. You found excitement in the thought of this secret tryst well remembered into your silent reminiscence. But you would be damned if you let JJ Maybank know he held such an affect on you. 

Unlucky for you, you had signed on to help the Thornton family decorate the ballroom of the Island Inn Resort for the coming night's Christmas fundraiser. This meant you would be forced to spend an unbearable amount of time nearly alone with JJ. The only other set of eyes having been your boyfriend’s mother, who was already looking for a reason to ruin your already crumbling relationship. But you were too stubborn to allow either her or JJ any level of satisfaction. Even if the aforementioned had offered that tenfold. 

"Morning, princess." His voice forced you to swallow hard. You recalled how the timbre spoken the night prior was heavy with lust. And now, he spoke almost to taunt you. 

"Can you get a chair?" You asked as the first excuse to distance yourself from him left your lips as you moved across the space. But where you had a relationship and reputation to risk, he saw nothing but opportunity before him. 

"If you can walk, I guess I didn't do a better job than him, did I, sweetheart?" He inquired over your shoulder. His presence made you gasp as he was present in an abrupt appearance but his words had chilled you. The flutter of your eyes was a natural reaction to his breath on your neck as you recalled it not even twelve hours prior. That familiar heat making you pulse with need, panties ruined once again. If he hadn't stolen them…

"I could fix that-"

"Nothing happened." 

"I know damn well you remember…it's why you're shaking…" You clenched your jaw, "Why you can't look me in my eye…" You rivaled him, stubborn enough to challenge him. 

"Looking at me just like you did with my cock-"

"Everything okay?" Cynthia asked as you nodded, unable to formulate anything but a faux nod as you distanced yourself from him. 

"I wanna bend you over this table and make you ride my fingers to the knuckle…" His vulgarity froze you solid in your attempt to focus on anything but him. But his consistent presence worsened this newfound crush on him. That usual curiosity had not only intensified, but obliterated any sense of reason. 

"I want everyone including the good Ms. Thornton to hear those sexy little whimpers you make and how you beg so fucking pretty…and I want them to know it's because of me…"

"JJ…please…"

"Still trying to pretend you don't remember?" He asked, his fingers climbing into your skirt from behind, the height of the table hiding hid ambitions. 

"Kinda hard when you're dripping for me, princess…fuck, you're even more soaked than last night…" He moved his lips impossibly close to your ear as you tensed completely in place. 

"That's because you know how hard I can make you come, isn't that right?" You clenched your teeth. 

"You know how good I feel inside you…" Upon that word, his fingers moved against your sex. One slow insertion making your eyes screw shut. 

"I could get you off right here, and look at that…" His hand came to the back of your neck, drawing your focus across the room, "He's been here ten minutes and hasn't even looked at you once. Good thing, though…because he'd know I was making you wanna come…" He forced you to face him while keeping you pinned before him. 

"Oh, that's right, he's never made you come…Maybe I should let him see it just once. God knows he'll never get you there.. " He scoffed. 

"Please stop, JJ…" You groaned, hand tighter around his wrist. 

"All you have to do is stop me. Push my hand away…" You attempted this, but he  only quickened his fingers. 

"But it feels so good, princess…doesn't it?" You slowly nodded, drunk on the sensations his fingers and his alone could allow. 

"How's she coming?" A voice made you illuminate a bright crimson.

"Oh, she's coming…" He smirked as this had been a reference to the decorations, but a double meaning to both you and JJ. 

He would retract strictly to torment you as you watched his grin widen as he moved to the corridor secluded from most guests. Even those more prestigious as guests or benefactor wouldn't dare venture the halls of the employee quarters, which made it safe for you to follow him. It wasn't as if Topper paid any real mind to you anyhow. 

You wouldn't make it even a foot out of Topper’s eyesight before JJ had you pinned against the wall. Your palms flat at the cold surface as his fingers returned into your skirt. 

"I can't get this tight little pussy out of my mind, princess…I'm going to have a taste…and you're gonna be quiet." Before you could fight this, he was on his knees from behind. 

"Turn around. I wanna watch you come." He pulled your leg over his shoulder as he bunched your skirt at your navel. 

"Jesus! You wanna drown me? You're this desperate for me?" 

"Please…"

"I'll never get tired of hearing you beg for me…EVER!" He growled before suffocating himself into your sex. Tongue began slow but direct, targeting that aching clit. The satisfaction leading you to grip strongly through his hair. 

"Still want to tell me you don't remember?" You were silent, aware if you attempted to speak in any context that it would only emerge as a whimper or a screech. Either way, your body rejected the idea. 

"In my face. I wanna watch you."

"JJ-" His ringed fingers ate sharply into your thigh. 

"You wanna come. You're gonna help me here. Least you can do for lying. Come on,princess, let me see how desperate you are for me…" His eyes narrowed as you obliged. 

"Wider…" Using one hand to spread your lower lips, you used the other to pleasure yourself. 

"You make it look so fucking good…want my tongue?"

"Then beg."

"Please…"

"Careful…sounding like such a little whore, Top might hear you…" He was quick to learn you favored the degradation. 

"You want him to hear you?" His blue irises blew with excitement. The idea of being with any Kook was enough to inflame his ego. But to be with Topper Thornton's girlfriend, this would be something he wanted to savor. 

"I'm not ready for him to hear you come yet. But don't worry, princess, he will." You were guided onto your knees as he stood.

"Just like you did last night-"

"Someone could see…"

"Then you might want to make it quick, sweetheart. Or I'll make it impossible for you to be quiet. God knows you already are a slut for me…"

"Just so hungry for this pogue cock, aren't you?" He asked as you kicked your lips at the sight of him. Never before had a cock been alluring to you. But his was. Large. Intimidating. The source of such pleasure reminded by the taste immediately familiar to the palate of your tongue. 

"Fuuuuck…." He groaned. "Look just how desperate you are. Rubbing yourself and now you're on your knees for me…But you don't get to make me come this way…so slow down " But you denied him your obedience. Perhaps it was vengeance from the night before as alcohol lowered your inhibitions. But you wouldn't grant him your acquiescence. Not now. You were now holding the reins. 

"Princess-" You ou ignored his warning with a screwing motion made of his shaft, teasing his tip with kitty licks before moaning when tasting that salty excess. His cock was angry, crying for you in a beaded gathering, as you couldn't help but smile. 

"Proud of yourself?" 

"Very."

"Oh yeah? Let's see how fucking proud you are when everyone hears you come for a pogue-" You we're lifted off of the ground and taken into his cock with a gasp. 

You knew him well from the night before, having been stretched to accommodate him, but this was different. He hadn't spent the majority of the interaction preparing you. He needed to feel you. He needed to own you. To control you. And please you. But more than this, you needed to let him. 

"You wanna whine like a little slut for me, don't you, sweetheart? Want everyone to know how good I feel so fucking deep in this tight little pussy, right?'

"So good-" 

"Then tell 'em. Because I'm not stopping until you squirt or scream-"

"JJ-" Your teeth clenched to his motions increasing. His cock reached the depths of your cervix where pain and pleasure joined in a steady rhythm. His hands at your breasts or at your curves accommodated the ache as his lips distracted you from any discomfort. He acted as a magician of sorts with such lustful talents as you had no choice but to be consumed by him. If not for his brazen eagerness than for your own need for rebellion. Opposites attracting in a collision of pelvic association as he continued into you with stride. 

"You want this or are you going to keep pretending this isn't the best cock you've ever had?"

You groaned, back arching as he continued. 

"Tell. Me."

"More."

"Than I don't want anyone to know. Not yet. But you WILL come on my cock." His hand slipped across your cheek and into your hair. A single display of care and final domineering spirit as he gripped a hold of your hair. 

"Your cock. Use me, princess. Right fucking now before I lose my patience-" You clenched around him as he tensed his own jaw. 

"That's my girl." Be endorsed before you found that release in a wave of ecstasy washing him into his own.

"You gave me something to look forward to coming to work…" 

"JJ-"

"But if you show up here with panties, know I'll rip em right off. And if you let him touch you after this…you won't like me…"

"Who says I do?" You fixed your attire as he remained wearing your mixed cum on his shaft as if it has been some battle scar. 

"My cock wearing you."

"Don't get used to it "

"You're right. Next time, it's your throat. Maybe that ass.." 

It took you a moment to rejoin the small collection of fellow Kooks that now accumulated in your absence. It had taken only a second for Topper and Rafe to hold JJ in their joined predatorial cross hairs. But where they found a need to protect their social homestead, your face paled as you had watched JJ. His angle chosen kept his actions secretive to only you, but bold enough to be seen by anyone if they became curious enough. 

Your panties from the night before had been set as an ornament on the tree. Ones you knew Topper could recognize, but also ones that JJ had made stained in a way your boyfriend never could. And it was the way JJ turned in a final moment before returning to his occupational task that told you he knew this… 

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

MASTERLIST

CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST

JJ MAYBANK MASTERLIST

JJ MAYBANK AND KOOK READER MASTERLIST

[reallygroovyninja]

The Lottery

Lexa returned home from her job at the local library, tired after a long day of shelving books and assisting patrons. The comforting aroma of her homemade dinner filled the small apartment as she settled down at her modest dining table. Just as she was about to take her first bite, a sudden, unexpected knock on the door interrupted her evening. 

Startled, Lexa rose from her chair and made her way to the door. She peered through the peephole, finding a tall and imposing alpha standing on her doorstep, holding an official-looking envelope. He wore a serious expression, and his presence radiated an air of formality. 

Taking a deep breath, Lexa opened the door just wide enough to peer outside, her heart racing with a mixture of curiosity and unease. The alpha glanced at her, his gaze unwavering, and asked, "Are you Alexandria Woods?" 

Lexa nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, that's me." 

The alpha's stern features softened just slightly as he extended the envelope toward her. "Congratulations, Ms. Woods," he said in a low, authoritative tone. "You have been chosen for the National Marriage Lottery." 

Lexa's hand trembled as she accepted the envelope from him, her fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment. She felt a chill run down her spine as the implications of the moment sank in. The envelope bore the official seal of the Ministry of Matrimonial Partnerships, confirming the gravity of its contents. 

As she started to read the letter inside, the alpha turned and walked away, disappearing into the dimly lit hallway. Lexa's mind was reeling as she closed the door, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't believe she had been chosen, and the thought that she would have to be at the Ministry's office in just seven days to learn the name of her future alpha left her with a whirlwind of emotions. Her once quiet and ordinary life had been irrevocably altered, and the journey into the unknown had just begun. 

Lexa's dinner lay forgotten on the dining table, growing cold and untouched. She made her way to the living room and sank onto her couch, her eyes never leaving the letter now resting on the coffee table before her. The weight of its significance seemed to press down on her, and she couldn't tear her gaze away. 

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside, and Lexa's thoughts raced. She replayed the alpha's words in her mind—congratulations, chosen for the National Marriage Lottery. It was a phrase she had never expected to hear, and the implications of it left her feeling both apprehensive and intrigued. 

Her fingers traced the edges of the envelope, almost as if she expected it to reveal more secrets by touch alone. The official seal of the Ministry stared back at her, a symbol of the life-altering journey that lay ahead. Lexa couldn't help but wonder about the alpha on the other end of this unexpected twist of fate. Who was he? What would he be like? Would they be compatible, or would this be a tumultuous forced partnership? 

Minutes turned into an hour as Lexa sat there, lost in thought, her heart a mix of uncertainty and curiosity. The future was suddenly uncertain, and her once familiar routine had been disrupted. But beneath the anxiety and apprehension, a flicker of excitement simmered. Lexa knew that whatever lay ahead, she was about to embark on a journey that would forever change the course of her life. 

Anya leaned against the sleek, metal frame of the window, her gaze fixed on the bustling city below, aglow with the neon lights of the signage. She turned her head, her sharp alpha features softened by concern as she looked at Lexa. "You know it's tomorrow, right?" she asked, her voice carrying the weight of the unspoken – the National Marriage Lottery.  

Lexa nodded, her fingers absently twisting a strand of her hair. "I know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. The room, adorned with minimalist decor and the latest technological advancements, felt colder than usual.  

Anya pushed away from the window, her movements decisive, a natural leader's poise. "Are you ready for this, Lex?" she asked, her eyes searching Lexa's face for any sign of doubt or fear. "Being paired with a stranger, an alpha you've never met... it's not something to take lightly."  

Lexa's eyes lifted to meet Anya's, a certain resolve burning within them. "I don't really have a choice, do I?" she said, a hint of bitterness lacing her words. "It's either enter the lottery or face the penalties. And you know how I feel about the government dictating our choices."  

Anya sighed, her protective instincts as an alpha kicking in. "I just don't want you to be forced into something you're not ready for," she said, her voice tinged with concern. "Especially with an alpha. Our kind can be... overwhelming, especially for an unpaired omega."  

Lexa managed a small smile, appreciative of her cousin's concern. "I'll manage. Who knows, maybe I'll get lucky and be paired with someone decent. Someone who understands that this... arrangement is as new and awkward for me as it is for them."  

"Or maybe you'll find someone who's more than just decent," Anya suggested, a playful glint in her eyes. "Someone who could actually make you happy."  

Lexa's smile grew, a rare moment of optimism breaking through her usual guarded demeanor. "Maybe," she conceded, allowing herself that sliver of hope.  

Anya placed a reassuring hand on Lexa's shoulder, her alpha presence both comforting and empowering. "No matter what happens, I'm here for you, Lex. We'll face this together, as family."  

As Lexa nodded, a silent bond of strength and support passed between the two women. Tomorrow would bring uncertainty, but tonight, they found solace in their unbreakable familial bond. 

[out-with-the-boys]

The Dance- Chapter 23

Homelander x Supe OC

Notes: 18+ No warnings apply for this chapter. Each chapter will have individual content warnings as they apply to avoid spoilers. Find this work on AO3. Tumblr master post here.

Previous chapter.

Heels clicking smartly, echoing throughout the lobby of Seven Tower, Morgan had to fight the anxiety that gnawed insistently at her nerves. Word hadn’t spread too far about her going AWOL, but the thoughts of those that were aware of her 24 hour disappearance had flown into a frenzy. Not a single person could fathom why she would ditch her tracking chip, and then waltz back into the building as if nothing had happened.

That was good. The more focus there was on her activity there, the less likely Butcher and The Boys were to get caught. 

Morgan had not only given them all the evidence she had gathered on Neuman and Edgar’s schemes, but she had given them everything they needed to bust Becca and Ryan out. As long as they had her device, and followed her instructions, it would buy them enough time to pull off the escape without getting caught. All she had to do was keep up her end of the bargain and buy them a little extra time.

 Before anyone could intercept her, she was already in the elevator and headed for the 82nd floor. Edgar was here, and already aware of her presence in the building. While he maintained his usual calm exterior, Morgan knew he was preparing for a confrontation. He wasn’t confident he knew what she was up to, and that made him nervous.

That might have been enough to put a satisfied smirk on her face, but she could also hear Homelander’s thoughts. He had just been made aware of her arrival, and his mind was a veritable storm of conflicting thoughts and feelings. The loudest thing that stood out to her though, was his anger. 

As far as he was aware, she had abandoned him without so much as a word.

He wasn’t wrong either, but there was so much more to it than that. Knowing where things would go, it was enough to exacerbate the persistent nausea that plagued her. She had to keep her cool though. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.

The elevator doors slid open with a quiet chime, and Morgan took a long, deep inhale. After holding it in for a moment, she stepped onto the polished floors of the 82nd floor. The hall stretched before her, eerily quiet save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the subtle buzz of electronics buried behind walls. 

The moment she entered Edgar’s office, she saw him standing by the window, his silhouette cast against the sprawling cityscape. He turned slowly, hands clasped behind his back, his face a mask of detached curiosity.

“Morgan.” His voice was smooth, controlled. “How considerate of you to return. I was beginning to think you’d gone rogue.”

She held her ground, meeting his gaze with a calm she didn’t quite feel. “I needed to make a few things clear. About my position in The Seven.”

Edgar raised an eyebrow. “Your position, Miss Daly, was never yours to negotiate. We brought you here for a purpose.”

“And I’m telling you, that purpose no longer aligns with my interests.”

His smile was thin, almost amused. “Is that so? After everything Vought has done for you, you think you can simply walk away?”

Swallowing hard, she kept her voice level. “I do. I know I can walk away, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it without raising all sorts of red flags.”

He didn’t flinch. If anything, her words seemed to sharpen his focus, his eyes narrowing as he assessed her. “You’re gambling with more than just your career, Ms. Daly. You’re risking everything.”

She smiled, though it was strained. “I’m aware. But I’m done letting Vought control my life.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, the tension between them thick enough to cut. Finally, Edgar inclined his head, a trace of disdain flickering across his face.

“You’re going to regret this, Morgan,” he said, his voice soft but chilling. “You may think you have leverage now, but once you’ve stepped over that line, there’s no coming back. Vought has resources you can’t imagine, and Homelander—”

As if summoned by his name, the door swung open, and Homelander strode in, his presence like a thunderclap in the quiet room. His gaze locked onto Morgan, blazing with accusation and hurt, but beneath it all, there was something darker, something raw and dangerous. He had lost all sense of control in the time she was away, and that had deeply unsettled him.

“It’s time for lights out, Edgar.” Morgan said, keeping her gaze fixed on Homelander as he approached. With a simple flex of her mind, Edgar’s head hit the desk and he was fully unconscious within seconds. That was enough to give Homelander some pause.

“Where have you been?” he seethed, his hands clenching into fists. “You think you can just disappear? Leave Vought? Leave me?”

Letting out a soft sigh, her posture deflated somewhat, and she gave him a weary look. “Yes, I left. I needed to show you there’s a way out of all of this. We don’t have to live under Vought’s control, Homelander. We don’t have to be what they made us.”

He stared at her, incredulous. “What they made us? Vought built everything we have. Built me. You think I can just walk away from that?”

Stepping closer, her voice softened, trying to cut through his anger. “Yes, I do. Come with me. We can have a life that’s ours, beyond all of this.”

For a fleeting second, something wavered in his gaze—a flicker of longing, of the man he might have been without Vought’s influence. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, his jaw clenching as his hand slipped out of hers.

“And go where, Morgan?” His voice was bitter, laced with scorn. “Run off and pretend to be normal? We don’t blend in. We were born to be something more. And you’re going to throw it away?”

“Homelander, I’m one step away from getting on my knees and begging,” she pleaded, her desperation mounting as she took one step closer. “I’m tired of playing the role Vought determined for me. I’m done letting Vought control me—and you.”

His expression darkened further. He took a step forward, shrinking the distance between them. “I trusted you, Morgan. I thought we were… you were different. You were mine.”

For a moment he seemed to falter, a glimpse of vulnerability flickering behind the cold, furious mask. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a look of betrayal so fierce it made her take a step back.

“You were mine, Morgan,” he repeated, his voice low, vibrating with barely contained fury. “I let you in. I would have done anything for you, and you… you just left.”

She reached out to him, her voice gentle but pleading. “You say you’re willing to do anything, so why not this? Please, if there’s any part of you that still wants something real, then come with me.”

Homelander’s expression twisted, his emotions warring between fury and desperation. “You don’t get it, do you? There’s no ‘out’ for us, Morgan.”

Her voice was trembling with raw emotion as she gently brushed a hand against his. “You don’t need Vought. You never did. If you won’t fight for me, fight for yourself”

Homelander’s jaw clenched, his entire frame trembling with the effort to contain his emotions. “Fight for myself?” he repeated, his voice sharp, almost mocking. “What do you think I’ve been doing my entire life, Morgan? Fighting to survive. Fighting to be seen. Fighting to matter.”

Her gaze softened, her own voice breaking. “And you don’t have to anymore. You matter to me. You’re already so much more than what they made you.”

For a fleeting moment, her words seemed to reach him. His gaze softened, the storm in his eyes subsiding for a heartbeat, and she thought—hoped—he might listen. But then his face hardened again, the vulnerability swallowed by years of anger and betrayal.

“I’m a god, Morgan,” he hissed, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. “Vought made me to save this fucked up little planet. I am the only thing holding it together.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, her voice firm. “That’s not how they see it. You’re nothing more than their weapon.”

The air between them crackled with tension, and she could feel his control slipping, the raw power beneath his surface threatening to erupt. She stood her ground, unflinching as his eyes began to glow faintly with the heat of his fury.

Homelander’s fists tightened, his voice a low growl. “You can’t walk away from me, Morgan. I don’t let people leave.”

She held his gaze, tears threatening to spill over onto her flushed cheeks. “I already have.”

The glow in his eyes intensified, his anger boiling over. With a roar, his heat vision erupted, a blinding burst of red light lancing toward her. Her last attempts to reason with him had failed.

When the light faded, Homelander stood frozen, his chest heaving as he stared at the space where she had been. Morgan lay crumpled on the ground, unmoving, smoldering scorch marks on her chest a chilling testament to what he’d done.

“No,” he rasped, his voice breaking as he dropped to his knees beside her. “No, no, no… Morgan. I didn’t…”

He reached out, his hands trembling as he gently lifted her head from the floor. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t… I just—goddammit.” His desperation filled the room, as he fought in vain to wrestle back the sobs that wracked his body. Pulling her into his arms, he rocked her gently, willing her to come back to him.

The weight of his actions began to settle in; a crushing loneliness of a world without her.

However…

Halfway across Manhattan, Morgan was leaned against the side of a large, black van. Her body trembled as the psychic link she had entangled him in dissolved, and she wiped the sweat from her brow. Her breath came in shallow gasps. The effort to maintain the illusion from such a distance had drained her, but it had worked. Homelander was trapped in his own grief, his own mind.

For the moment, she was safe.

The effort to hold Homelander in the constructed vision had taken more out of her than she’d expected. She doubled over, fighting the dizziness and nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. Sweat trickled down her temple, and her legs felt like they might give out any moment. A hand settled lightly on her shoulder, and she looked up to see Kimiko crouching beside her, her dark eyes filled with quiet concern.

“Did it work?” Frenchie asked softly from nearby, his voice tinged with both awe and worry. He stood a few feet away, arms crossed as if he were trying to hold himself back from fussing over her. “Is he… Occupied for now?”

“For now.” Morgan confirmed, her voice slightly ragged. “I took a page out of Mindstorm’s playbook. He’s trapped in a psychic loop, but I’m not sure how long it will hold.” 

“Incroyable.” Frenchie murmured, his worry giving way to unease for a moment. Though she hadn’t found a reason to yet, Morgan could sense his apprehension at the idea she could do the same to him.

Morgan let out a weak laugh, though it sounded more like a rasp. “Yeah, well… it doesn’t feel so incredible right now.” Kimiko tilted her head, a question clear in her gaze. Morgan understood immediately and offered a faint smile. “I’m okay,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction. “Just… drained.”

MM appeared then, carrying a bottle of water, to hand over to her. “You sure you’re okay? You were out for a while. We couldn’t tell if it was working or if he’d gotten to you.”

She accepted the water with a grateful nod, taking a small sip. “It worked. For now, he’s stuck thinking I’m dead. He won’t come looking right away.”

Frenchie’s brows furrowed, and he exchanged a glance with Kimiko. “And what happens when he snaps out of it?”

Letting her head fall back against the van, Morgan closed her eyes briefly. “We’ll tackle that another time. For now, we managed to get Becca and Ryan out. That’s what matters.”

Kimiko’s hand squeezed her shoulder gently, and Morgan opened her eyes to see the faintest ghost of a smile on the other woman’s face. It was a quiet acknowledgment, a gesture of respect and solidarity that didn’t need words.

Before the moment could settle too heavily, the faint rumble of an approaching engine reached them. MM straightened, glancing toward the edge of the alley. “That’ll be Butcher and the others.”

Morgan forced herself to stand upright, leaning against the van for support. The psychic fatigue still weighed on her, but she pushed it aside as Butcher’s car rumbled into the alleyway. Butcher’s sharp gaze was the first thing she registered from behind the windshield, his face was a mix of wariness and grudging respect. Beside him, in the passenger seat, was Becca, her expression tense but relieved.

She could sense Annie, Hughie and Ryan in the back seat as well, but she was still struggling to focus. There was a strange buzzing in the back of her mind. It almost felt as if her implant was the cause of it, but she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t be sure now either. There were too many other things to worry about.

As Butcher stepped out of the car, his eyes flicked over her, assessing her condition. He gave a small nod of approval, though his tone was brusque. “Looks like you’ve still got a bit of fight in you, eh?”

Morgan managed a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Just a bit.”

Frenchie, Kimiko, and MM began moving toward the car, helping Becca and Ryan out while Butcher gave orders to organize everyone. Morgan stood back, her gaze distant as the scene unfolded around her. The hum of conversation, the sound of footsteps, even Ryan’s small voice—it all blurred into the background.

The buzzing in her mind hadn’t subsided. If anything, it felt louder now, a faint vibration that seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat. She pressed her fingers to her temple, hoping the pressure would ease it, but it didn’t. She sighed, her hand falling to her side.

It wasn’t just the implant. It was everything.

She leaned back against the van again, letting her eyes drift closed for a moment. In the quiet of her own thoughts, the gravity of what she’d done began to press down on her. She’d told herself it was necessary. Trapping Homelander in his own mind was the only way to keep everyone safe. And it had worked, hadn’t it?

But the memory of his face as the vision unfolded wouldn’t leave her. The way his expression had shattered when he thought he’d killed her. The way he’d begged her to wake up, his voice raw with desperation and grief. It was a side of him she’d only glimpsed in fleeting moments, and she’d used it against him.

Morgan opened her eyes, staring down at her hands. They were trembling. Was it the fatigue, or something else? She wasn’t sure anymore. All she knew was that a part of her felt regret, despite all her best efforts to bury it with every justification she could conjure up.

She shook her head, trying to banish the thought. There wasn’t time for that. Not now. Not when there was so much left to do.

“Hey,” MM’s voice cut through her conflicted daze, and she looked up to see him standing nearby, his brow furrowed with concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said automatically, though she wasn’t sure if she believed it herself.

MM didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press. “Get some rest when you can,” he said simply, before turning back to help Becca and Ryan into the van.

Morgan exhaled slowly, letting her head rest against the cool metal of the open door. She felt the faint vibrations as the others climbed into the vehicle, their voices muffled but persistent. She knew she should join them, but for a moment, she let herself stay still.

The regret wasn’t just for what she’d done to Homelander. It was for everything—the lies, the manipulation, the choices that had brought her here. She’d told herself it was all for the greater good, but at what cost? How much of herself had she given away to survive? 

Ultimately, she had still been roped into Vought’s game when it came down to it.

The engine rumbled to life, and she pushed herself off the van, steadying her legs beneath her. As she climbed into the vehicle, the buzz in her mind still lingered, a reminder of the battles she’d fought—and the ones still to come.

For now, she could only hope she’d made the right choices. Deep down, though, she wasn’t sure if there was such a thing.

Song: Meant to be Yours, from Heathers the Musical “You carved open my heart, Can’t just leave me to bleed.” Author’s notes: This scene turned out so different from how I initially envisioned it. In fact, this was a scene I had constructed in my head after getting stuck on some of the lyrics of Meant to be Yours, and ultimately drove me to write this whole fic. That said, however, I’m still so pleased with how it turned out. We’re still not to the end yet though, folks. There’s still plenty more to come. I’ve done some pretty extensive work to set up the next three chapters, and we’re still not even done after those come around. I hope you’ll stick with me to the end!

Next chapter.

[stillalive19567]

Beneath The Surface | JenLisa | GxG | Chapter 1

I enter the campus, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and anxiety. It’s my first day here, and the walls seem to close in around me as I walk through the bustling hallway. Students brush past, their voices rising in a chorus of whispers. “Who is she? She’s pretty.” I roll my eyes, brushing off their stares like annoying flies. I’m not here to make friends.

After what feels like an eternity, I finally spot the headmistress's room. I push the door open and step inside. Mrs. Adeline sits behind her desk, a stack of papers scattered around her.

“Mrs. Adeline,” I say, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“Ms. Kim, it’s finally nice to meet you.” Her voice is warm, but I catch a hint of relief as she leans back in her chair. “You won’t believe it—I’m so glad you’re here. A lot has been going on.”

I cross my arms and reply coolly, “I know. That’s why I was sent here.”

“Yes,” she says, nodding thoughtfully. “I heard you and Son Ye-jin are close?”

“Yeah, she’s like my mother,” I respond, the words slipping out before I can stop them. It’s true; she has been my anchor through the chaos.

Mrs. Adeline chuckles, her laughter lightening the atmosphere. “We were roommates back in the day. I asked, and you graduated with your sanity intact? I’m impressed.”

“Jennie,” she says, her voice steady, “thank you for coming here. I’m worried for my students.”

“Ye-jin sunbae didn’t really tell me what was happening. Could you please tell me a bit?” I ask, my curiosity piqued despite the gravity of the situation.

“Of course,” Mrs. Adeline replies, her voice dropping to a hushed tone. “I overheard rumors suggesting that some older students may be trying to recruit younger ones for ‘exclusive opportunities.’ There are fights and drug overdoses at social gatherings. Students are disappearing.”

A chill runs down my spine at her words, but I push it aside. “Don’t worry, Ma’am, we’ll figure this out,” I assure her, trying to sound more confident than I feel.

She seems to contemplate my words for a moment, then her expression shifts. “Ah, you have a sister studying here?”

“Yeah, she’s my younger sister. Her name is Park Chaeyoung,” I reply, a flicker of pride swelling in my chest at the mention of her name.

“Aren’t you a Kim?” she asks, tilting her head slightly, a hint of confusion crossing her features.

“I’m adopted,” I explain, my voice steady. “My parents died when I was two, so the Parks took me in.” There’s a weight to my words, a history that lingers in the air between us. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Mrs. Adeline says, her tone softening. “Well, I’ve allotted you the same schedule as her. You’re her roommate, and your stuff has already been sent here.”

“Thank you,” I reply, relief washing over me at the thought of being close to Chaeyoung.

I stand up, ready to leave when Mrs. Adeline adds, “Detective Kim, the students here can be a lot sometimes. Good luck.”

With those words echoing in my mind, I leave the room and make my way to my dorm. I reach the door and knock, anticipation building within me. The door swings open, revealing a shocked Rosé, her eyes wide as if she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.

I smirk, unable to resist teasing her. “Close your mouth, otherwise a fly will enter.”

I step inside, surveying the room. My stuff is already unpacked, neatly arranged in a way that feels oddly welcoming.

“Unnie! What are you doing here?” Rosé exclaims, her voice a mixture of surprise and excitement.

I begin unpacking my belongings, trying to shake off the weight of the conversation I just had. “Shush! I’m undercover,” I say, throwing a playful wink her way.

Her eyes narrow, curiosity bubbling beneath her shock. “Undercover? For what?”

“None of your business,” I reply with a smirk, letting the mystery hang in the air. “Just know now that I’m here. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.” I wink at her, trying to lighten the mood despite the heaviness of the situation.

Rosé’s expression softens, and before I can say anything else, she pulls me into a hug. “I missed you,” she says, her voice muffled against my shoulder.

I chuckle, shaking my head as I respond, “We met last weekend.”

“But still,” she insists, pulling back to look at me, her eyes glimmering with a mix of joy and concern.

“Yeah, but it feels different now, doesn’t it?” I say, the weight of everything settling back in. It’s comforting to be with her, yet I can’t shake the feeling that things are about to get complicated.

Rosé nods, her expression serious for a moment. “What’s going on, really? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I assure her, but even I can hear the hesitation in my voice. “Just… keep your head down, okay? I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

She nods, a small frown still lingering on her lips. “You promise?”

“Promise,” I say, my heart heavy with the unspoken truths between us.

“We have the same schedule,” I inform her, feeling a flicker of relief that I’ll be with her in class.

“Let’s go then, unnie!” she exclaims, her excitement palpable as she grabs my hand and leads me out of the room.

“Wait, no more calling me unnie unless we’re alone,” I quickly remind her, trying to maintain some semblance of authority.

She squeals, the sound echoing in the hallway. “Does that mean I get to call you Jennie?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at my lips. It’s nice to see her so happy, even amidst the chaos lurking just beneath the surface.

“We’re twin sisters in front of everyone,” I declare, trying to establish some boundaries amidst the chaos of this new environment.

“Why though?” she asks, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Idiot,” I reply, the irritation slipping into my voice. “If someone found out that I’m older than you, I’m not supposed to be here. It’s your last year.”

Rosé’s eyes widen as she processes my words. “Oh, I get it now! That makes sense.”

“Good,” I say, feeling a sense of relief that she understands. “Just play along, okay? It’ll keep things simple.”

“Got it, Jennie!” she chirps, a grin spreading across her face.

I can’t help but smile back, even as the weight of our situation looms overhead. If only things could be as straightforward as they seem now.

As we walk to class, I can feel the stares of my classmates boring into me from all directions. It’s unsettling, the way their eyes follow me, as if I’m a spectacle on display.

“Ignore them,” Rosé says, her voice bright and reassuring. “They act like this whenever they see someone pretty.”

I roll my eyes, trying to brush off the discomfort. “It’s annoying,” I mutter, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks despite my efforts to stay composed.

“Just focus on the class,” she advises, giving my hand a gentle squeeze as we step into the classroom. “They’ll get bored soon enough.”

I nod, but my mind races with thoughts of how to navigate this new world. Keeping a low profile while trying to protect my sister is going to be a challenge, especially with all these eyes watching me. But as I take a seat next to Rosé, I remind myself that I’m here for a reason.

[susiequaz12]

Solomon and Lo- Marlowe the Immortal, Vampire AU

This is the next chapter in the installment for Marlowe the Immortal, and Solomon the Vampire. The latest chapter chronologically is here. Marlowe's masterlist is here. CW: nonbinary mc, vampire whumpee, whipping, restraints, blood. (Vampires are seen as animals, and are treated as such)

After making the climb over the mountain Marlowe and Solomon had come upon the village, settled in the valley at the bottom. They'd been living in the village for a few weeks. It was a short amount of time, but the village was so small, so remote, that it didn’t take long for them to figure out how to seamlessly blend in. 

Solomon was not allowed outside of the house. Not unless Marlowe took him out with a collar and a leash around the vampire’s throat. Sol refused- he would not be paraded around like a dog- so he stayed inside.

Anyone in the village with a vampire was required to register them with the head council of the town. That vampire’s behaviors were required to be appropriate, and fitting within the beliefs of the town’s laws and regulations. 

These laws and regulations meant that all vampires had to remain docile. They were given a set amount of pig’s blood as all they were allowed to eat. They had to be submissive and obey any order- especially ones from their owner. Any act of defiance from a vampire towards anyone in the town was threatened with punishment. As they witnessed their first week- that punishment often included a public whipping in the middle of the square. 

Solomon was grateful not to have seen it, but Lo remembered that poor vampire’s screams piercing the air. 

The sun was dipping low behind the mountain, and Marlowe had just finished their work for the day. They had taken up a quiet job cleaning the tavern at the edge of the town and were walking back to their small house. It was a simple job- didn’t pay too much, but it was enough to pay for some food and clothes and the rent on the house they had been provided with. The village, despite having their strict laws regarding vampires had been hospitable. And the townspeople were more than happy to provide Lo with a dwelling, providing them and their vampire earned their keep. 

Lo was passing through the town square when they saw the large gathering. It was most of the townspeople and all the shop owners, they reckoned. There was an eerie glow amongst the horizon as night fell, and a soft chill from the breeze. Marlowe wondered what all the fuss was about- and then they heard the screams. 

It was the familiar sound- the crack of the whip followed by a piercing shriek. 

Marlowe’s curiosity had outweighed their horror and they inched forward towards the crowd, perching on tiptoes until they could see the vampire, strung up by his wrists in the middle of the square, bare from the waist up. The whip crashed down again, blood spattering as the lashes burst open. 

“It’s a shame isn’t it?” One woman in the crowd said, turning towards Lo. Lo turned their head towards her and caught her eye. “That poor farmer’s dog. Did you not hear?”

“What happened?” Lo asked. 

“That vampire went on a rampage, killed and completely devoured Farmer Brecken’s sheep dog. The monster went crazy.” She shook her head, turning her gaze back to the display of cruelty. 

Lo recognized her-  Ms Floreta- she was always one to gossip, but it was easy to keep your nose in everyone’s business as the town seamstress. Lo remembered being sent to her to get their clothes when they arrived with nothing but the rags on their back. 

“You’ve got your own at home, don’t you?” 

“Hmm?” 

“A vampire.” She hissed, like it was vulgar to say. “I remember seeing you arrive with it when you first got here. Yours has that really pretty dark hair, doesn’t it?” 

“Oh, yes ma’am” Lo nodded. “Sorry, I should be getting home. Dinner should be ready soon.” 

Ms Floreta turned, her hand coming to clutch her heart as she gasped. “You trust your vampire- that creature, to cook your food?” 

Lo chuckled, hiding back a smirk. “Yes ma’am, he’s very… well behaved. Excuse me.” 

Lo dipped out and around the crowd before she could utter another word of disgust towards them and their vampire, and quickly made their way around the crowd. 

That first whipping had been a few weeks ago, and Lo was grateful that another one had yet to occur. 

It had been over a month, and still every day Solomon would be waiting for Marlowe to get home. He would have dinner ready for Lo right after work, and then they’d spend a few blissful hours together before Lo went to bed, and Sol resorted to doing the cleaning. He would sleep during the day while Lo worked, and together they kept their quaint little house in order. 

It was a simple wooden structure, with a little hut outside for their bathroom, a washtub, and a kitchen with a small table and two chairs, a living space with a fireplace, a pile of wood, and a straw mat by the door. A single bedroom with a simple bed and just a few blankets, a chest for their clothes, and a small table with a few books. There were two windows, one at the front of the house, and one in the bedroom, with dark curtains that stayed permanently drawn closed.

This specific night Lo came home tense. There had been talk of that same vampire- the one from the whipping nearly a month ago. Lo had seen a wagon pull into town, the vampire dragged out of the back, and tossed at his owner’s feet. The poor vampire had been shaking, he looked so small and frail. 

As they opened the door and set their satchel down Solomon greeted them with a smile. 

“How was work?” He asked.

“It was fine, nothing unusual.” 

Solomon set down the spoon he was holding on the table and walked up to Lo, cupping their face in his hands. 

“What’s troubling you? Something happened, I can tell. Come, eat and tell me what happened.”

Lo melted as they looked into the vampire's piercing gaze. They sighed following Solomon into the kitchen. He dished them up a bowl of the stew he had been cooking over the fire, and broke off a piece of their bread, setting it down on the table and sat across from his human.

Solomon enjoyed cooking for Lo- he found it entertaining to try new recipes, and then see how they tasted from Lo afterwards. The stew had been both of their favorites so far. Full of meat, potatoes, and an herbaceous broth. Lo’s blood afterwards would always be rich- full of deep flavors and earthy undertones. 

Sol folded his hands, resting his chin on top and glanced across the table at Lo, an eyebrow raised as Lo took a tentative bite of the stew. 

“It’s good.” Lo mumbled. “Thank you, Sol.”

After a few more minutes of silence Lo finally sighed, setting their spoon down. 

“Do you remember that vampire I told you about a few weeks ago?” 

Sol shivered. “The one in the square? With the farmer’s dog? I remember.” 

Lo nodded. “I saw him again today. A big wagon pulled right up in the middle of the square. He was dragged out of the back, and- and given back to his owner I guess. The poor thing, he just- he looked so scared, and malnourished and it- it made me wonder what they’d done to him.” 

Sol shook his head, “I don’t blame him for what he did. Killing that dog- it’s sad but with the amount of food provided, it’s- it’s not nearly enough to sustain off of. He had to have been starving to get to that point.” 

Lo nodded, looking over to where they had Sol’s food sitting. 2 pints of blood a week. Vampire’s were not permitted to be given any more. It was something in the rules about keeping them weak and docile. Solomon would drink double that amount every week from Lo. He would drink the pig’s blood only out of necessity, so as not to arouse suspicion when the town council did their inspections- or when Sol was required to collect his weekly supply. But the pig’s blood was nothing compared to Lo. It was nearly sour- almost rancid and bitter, whereas Lo had always been sweet. So incredibly rich, and divine, and beautiful. 

“This whole town just makes me worried.” Lo muttered, picking at their piece of bread. “If someone were to find out- about- about us, what would happen to you? Would they cart you away, or- or string you up in the square?”

Lo’s mind flashed to the nights spent curled up next to each other- the lazy mornings spent with sleep in their eyes, Sol’s body entwined with theirs. There was the gentleness of his touch- the strength of his hands, the feel of his lips, and Lo felt their heart racing. 

“The- the things we’ve done, Sol- To these- to these people, in this town, it’s- it’s criminal. I can’t imagine what they’d do- I- I can’t see you get hurt, I-”

“Shh, Marlowe-” Sol quickly moved around the table, kneeling next to their chair, cupping their chin in his hand. “Look at me- they’re not going to find out. Here, in our home, we are safe. I will ensure of that. I promised to protect you and I will do whatever I can to ensure you stay safe.” 

Marlowe reached a hand up to the back of Sol’s neck, entwining their fingers in the dark strands of hair. “I need you to stay safe too, understand?” Lo leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “I need you here, Darling, - and not just so you can cook me dinner to see how I taste afterwards, all right?” 

Solomon chuckled, a smirk playing across his lips. 

“I promise. We've been through hell and back to get here, I won't let anything change that. I’ll ensure it.” Solomon closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to theirs and Lo hummed softly, smiling beneath the kiss. 

Marlowe let their lips part softly as Solomon slid a tongue between their lips, tasting inside of their mouth, breathing them in like air.

Lo let themselves be held. As long as they were here with Solomon, in his arms- they'd be safe.

-

Tag List: @imagination1reality0 @thecyrulik @whumpsday @termsnconditions-apply @spectral-whumpy-writer @raddyscoops

[dangraccoon]

Jari’eyc - Chapter 20

Read on AO3

Word Count: 1209

Content: pheepheepheepheepheepheepheephee, Hemlock's toxic gas is kinda like a nightmare gas, Jaine's abusive uncle, verbal abuse, injections, injuries, brain trauma, slim odds of survival, thinking your family is dead, illness, pain, prison break, cody being a stubborn ass

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Hunter could practically feel Fives’ nerves as he watched the ARC pacing the hangar. “Thought you trusted this person?” he asked. 

Fives met his gaze. “I do,” he affirmed, nodding. “I mean, she’s great, even though she works with Cid. I don’t mean everyone who works with Cid is untrustworthy– It’s just that I–”

Before he could finish, another ship came in to land at the hangar. Hunter rose from the crate he’d been leaning on. Seeing Fives lower his mask over his face, he pulled his own helmet on. He watched the ramp lower with curiosity. A figure in a leather jacket walked out, her hand resting on her hip, where Hunter noted a decently sized vibroblade sword. 

“Now isn’t this interesting,” the stranger laughed, striding over to them. “After all this time, I finally get to meet the mysterious ‘Forn’. I gotta tell you, I was starting to think Short Stuff was making you up.”

Hunter’s gaze snapped to Fives. “You’ve never met?” he hissed.

“Not… exactly,” Fives’ modulated voice said.

Phee looked between the two. She tipped her head towards Hunter. “A friend of yours?” 

“You could say that,” Hunter grumbled.

“Wait, don’t tell me,” she said. “You’re from that group of stray clones Cid’s been working with, aren’t you?”

Hunter grunted, his mic barely picking it up.

“Nice to meet you, too,” she chuckled. “Name’s Phee.”

-

“Ms… Vale?” the nurse called. 

Jaine stood, and followed the nurse into the network of hallways in the medical center. 

“You’re here for… a military physical?” the nurse asked. She sounded surprised. 

“Yes,” Jaine answered, her brows pulling into a scowl.

“You are going into the military?”

“Yes,” she repeated as they arrived at the exam room. 

The nurse scoffed. “I guess every organization needs secretaries.”

“I’m a medic, actually,” Jaine said curtly. 

“A medic?” the nurses voice shifted. The resentment that was boiling in her gut quickly turned to confusion and fear. “Silly little medic,” taunted the nurse– no, this wasn’t what that nurse said. “You think you’ll be any more useful out there?”

No. That voice– that voice sent a chill down her spine. 

“You were just as useless to them as you were to me,” Jaine’s uncle spat. “You destroyed our world and just moved to the next. How many lives did you ruin in your wake? How many people could you have saved if you weren’t such a waste of space?”

“I- I wasn’t- I’m not–”

“The toxin is working, Doctor.”

Doctor Hemlock smiled. “Excellent. Doctor Karr, administer Bavo Six. Record anything and everything she says.” He turned and left the room, leaving her alone with Jaine.

“Yes, Doctor,” Emerie answered anyway. She prepared the autoinjector.

Jaine struggled lightly against her restraints. “Please, Uncle, don’t-”

Emerie leaned down to her ear. “Jaine, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I am not injecting you with Bavo Six,” she whispered, placing the autoinjector to Jaine’s neck, the latter whimpering. “This will clear up the remnants of the toxin. Once you are stable, I will contact your squad with the coordinates of this base.”

-

Tech had approximated the path towards the rail based on where he’d found her crashed on the edge of the lake. The trek in that direction was long, slow, and filled with a tense silence.

He had not been quiet about his certainty that the others had likely not survived to escape Eriadu, despite Runi’s constant protests and seemingly endless hope.

Tech had run the numbers during a fleeting moment where his mental fog had lifted. Without the additional weight of the second car, the railcar his family was in would have accelerated rapidly, and there was likely little Echo could do to control it, especially considering that he was likely in shock from Runi jumping to rescue Tech. The odds of the groups’ survival seemed slim, though it was helped by the fact that Fives and Sinya were aboard the Marauder and could likely take care of the others.

Runi had refused to believe his rambling explanation of probability. She knew he wasn’t thinking negatively, just logically, but she still preferred to think that everyone was safe and unharmed. She needed to believe they were alright. Still, her heart ached.

The odd pair had briefly discussed their differing viewpoints, but ultimately agreed to stop as they were simply arguing in circles. So instead they walked in silence.

They stopped frequently to rest; their bodies were aching from the collection of injuries they’d accumulated from their landing. Runi could tell Tech was getting irritated by the amount of time they were spending resting, but she also knew he needed it more than she did. Though, with much of her body covered in bruises and small abrasions, she found herself missing her old armor, sitting in a box in the small apartment she shared with Fives in Ord Mantell.

“What are you thinking about?” Tech asked abruptly, looking surprised as if he hadn’t meant to ask aloud.

She chuckled at the look on his face. “My family, I guess,” she said, picking at a stone near her boot.

Tech nodded, but realized his curiosity ran deeper. “Will you… tell me about them?”

It was her turn for surprise. She had only known Tech for a couple months, but she’d never taken him as the type to be interested in others’ personal lives. “What, um… what do you want to know?”

-

Another set of harsh coughs racked Cody’s body as he leant against a tree until he could catch his breath. He hated jungles.

“Are you alright?” his companion asked, her hand on his shoulder.

“Fine,” he grunted, opting not to grumble about jungles being his least favorite environment. 

“I can carry Jaine, if you want.”

Cody turned his head to meet her eyes hidden behind red lenses. Emerie’s expression was confident, but the look in her eyes was hesitant.

Cody glanced over his shoulder at the unconscious face of his friend. 

“It’s alright,” he said, heaving her up a little higher on his shoulders. “I’ve got her.”

Emerie looked like she wanted to say something but chose not to.

They continued their trek through the difficult terrain, Emerie watching Cody as the journey strained him more and more. Every so often she’d offer to relieve him of Jaine’s extra weight across his shoulders, only to be answered by a gruff refusal. Eventually, they’d slowed to nearly a crawl between his struggle not to cough every other breath and the pain that shot through his right leg with every step he took.

“Cody, this is clearly not sustainable,” she argued after her offer of help was turned down again. “We’re hardly making any progress, and it will be getting dark soon.”

Cody stopped and sighed. Slowly, and painfully, he lowered himself to a kneel, allowing Emerie to help ease Jaine from his tired shoulders. She wrapped her arm around Jaine’s waist, putting Jaine’s arm over her shoulders. Cody stood and took a similar position on Jaine’s other side.

“We’ll make camp up on that ridge,” he said, pointing up a steep incline. “Try and use that tech you grabbed to send out a signal.”

She nodded, and they continued their escape.

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Thanks for reading! - River

Jari'eyc Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @lokigirlszendaya @idoubleswearimawriter @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @luna-the-lone-red-wolf @techs-goggles9902

[derpatron731]

Out of curiosity, was there anything that inspired Ms Dove?

So glad you asked! The main inspirations for Miss Dove was Miss Frizzle from The Magic School bus, and Calliope from The Muses - Hercules. I wanted to make a teacher that radiated creativity and fun, like Frizzle, but with a more chill and mellow personality. I chose Calliope specifically because she just gave of the most motherly vibe out of the group, like those brief moments where she sternly corrects the other muses and takes charge to introduce the scenes while still maintaining a kind exposition. And overall the muses are what inspired her story time segment in the show.

I loved the way the muses were able to convey Hercules’ story through song along with brief narration. It’s exactly how I imagine Dove’s segment would be performed. In fact, I personally headcanon the animation cels we see of “Julie-rella” were originally from Miss Dove’s segment.

Another inspiration (and arguably the main inspo ) for Storytime Funktion would be Disney’s American Legends, a collection of animated musical shorts of American Tall Tales. Specifically, the one about John Henry. I saw the shorts on VHS as a kid and this one stuck with me in particular. I adored the way they told the story through music paired with vibrant animation. Highly recommend checking these shorts out!

[mywifeleftme]

285: Gregory Isaacs // The Lonely Lover

The Lonely Lover Gregory Isaacs 1980, African Museum

I’ve got a cool Jamaican copy of Gregory Isaacs’ Lonely Lover that, if I’m honest, I mostly picked up because the object itself snagged my curiosity. If I knew Isaacs at all it was from a shoutout on Mos Def’s “Ms. Fat Booty,” but the battered, bootleg-quality sleeve spoke of a record that had soundtracked many a party and maybe even a few conceptions. Reggae’s not my wheelhouse (the only LPs I have are this guy and The Harder They Come), so I couldn’t tell you how this stacks up against any of Isaacs’ dozens of records, let alone against the reggae canon as a whole, but to my ears it’s lovely.

This feels to me like night-time music, perfect for taking in the scene once people have started to chill and the dance floor’s given over to couples. The Cool Ruler is backed by some of the era’s great session players, including Sly & Robbie and the Roots Radics, and while the arrangements are minimal and the tempos consistent throughout, each has a few masterly little touches that make them stand out: the clucking rattles on “Hard Time” and dubby organ wobbles on “Tune In” for example, or the clip-clopping beat of “Poor and Clean.” Isaacs was famously one of the genre’s greatest singers, and you can almost always hear a smile in his voice and a tear in his eye—if you’re suffering he’s suffering with you, but if you’re making moves he’s supplying the vibes.

This is a fine representative of a classic analog lovers rock sound that I have to imagine was just about on its way out in favour of the synthier textures taking hold of pop music the world over. If that’s your thing, you’ll almost certainly like this one.

285/365

[doodlegirl12345]

Doodle’s Anthology: Winter Things {3/3}

Last but certainly not least as it’s common knowledge that sometimes the best things come in threes. Hello my Miraculous Lovelies, this is the last part of my first set of anthology entries. If you have read the previous parts I hope you enjoyed it. If this is your first time encountering one of these parts then welcome.

This is the last installment and other parts links will be provided below. Due to all the entries length I had broken up into three sections and will place links below to make everything easier here:

Section 1. Section 2. Section 3.

I hope you enjoy what I have been working on. So let’s continue with the third story: Winter Check In.

Winter Check In

Theme: Winter Things

Winter, just like any season, has many of its gifts that do not last forever. Time marches on no matter the placement of the year. Within the air, a wintery chill still permeated throughout the formerly snow draped Paris. For the past couple days, layers of snow began to dissolve little by little. Only a few spots appeared to be untouched. A natural closure to one of life’s many chapters.

Tonight, the city was gifted with a starless sky leading its glow to become a guiding light for those above it. Night had fallen quickly, like a thick stage curtain. A little cover was given to a certain black cat. However, this was no mere cat, instead it was Astrocat: the flying suit version of Chat Noir. He glided through the air while carrying a filled brown paper shopping bag by the handles. Each second that passed his mind continued to become more and more within a stir.

He wondered about the relevance of tonight. It wasn’t like he had seen her yesterday when plans could’ve been verified. It was all based on the assumption. Something he had learned multiple times was not always the best indicator of the truth. His curiosity had peaked about the state of everything. But he would rather have pure intentions rather than retreat due to the fear of looking foolish.

A few moments went by as the airborne feline passed over a few blocks taking advantage of switching from his usual tread on the rooftops. Astrocat had learned that lesson this time last year after slipping on an unsuspecting patch of ice. Almost falling off the rooftop in the street during the process. Once he had gotten close to his destination the cat made his descent, swooping down before landing. His boots hit against the gray wooden floors of the lavish rooftop patio before scanning the area. Not much had changed since the previous month that he was here. Two gray L-shaped couches still sat parallel to each other.

Although this time they were covered with about ten winter themed pillows each and thick fluffy gray blankets. Replacing the autumn themed pillows and macaroon blankets from the previous visit. Between the couches was an built in gray wooden table with a rustic black tray that had an array of lit plastic LED tea lights. The patio’s safety railing around the perimeter was wrapped with white string lights giving the patio a snowy glow look. In the middle of the table was a long flat rectangular box wrapped in blue and white snowflake wrapping paper, tied with silvery ribbons.

Nestled between the ribbons and the wrapped box was a white notecard with red ink scribble across it. The cat picked it up reading the words:

Hey, I got your note and gift. Here’s a late holiday gift for the both of you. Thanks for everything.

Sincerely,

-Ms. M

He couldn’t help but smile before placing the card back between the box and the ribbon. After reverting back to his default suit, Chat Noir started to unpack. He pulled out of the brown shopping bag a few plastic food storage containers that consisted of pretzels, crackers, pre-sliced cheddar cheese and grapes. Before taking out a box of assorted winter themed sugar cookies. Plastic wrap was peeled off the large black thermos of hot chocolate in the cat’s hand as he had sat it on the table with the others. Followed by a can of whipped cream and a bag of mini marshmallows. The pang of worry still ran through as he pulled out a bag of disposable to-go coffee cups.

It had been nearly two weeks since he had seen her.

But before the burden of this thought could leave much impact, his cat ears perked up. A familiar zipping sound filled the perimeter. Followed by a soft thump behind him. Chat Noir turned around to greet the familiar presence behind him.

Ladybug.

The cat smiled as his worries had been dispelled. “Hey Ladybug.”

“Hi Chat,” the bug greeted while wrapping the yoyo around her waist. “It’s been a bit. How are you?”

“I’m fine. But I’ll admit that I was wondering if you were going to show up.”

“And miss our monthly check in? At this point it’s better to assume that something horrible happened to me before I willingly flake on you. But maybe I shouldn’t tempt fate like that.”

“Agree. I know that it’s just been almost two weeks since Shadow Moth has done anything. But it did not stop me from missing one of my closest friends.”

Ladybug gave a gentle smile. “I missed you too.”

“Yeah, there’s nothing like going without the fun of several near death experiences and violent explosions for over a week to make the heart grow fonder.”

“Leave it to you to say that’s fun. You’re always been the risk taker between the two of us. And that’s saying something.”

“What can I say, it’s part of my charm.”

“I thought you had said it was telling jokes?”

“Well, that too.”

“Is that all for us?” the bug asked while her eyes lingered over the table.

“Yep after the stuff you bought last month,” he told her. “It’s only fair that I stepped up.”

“It wasn’t that much,” she waved her hand nonchalantly. “It’s just the stuff I had put together that night. It would’ve been better if I didn’t have other commitments.“

”So you don’t think the Christmas tree cupcakes, the eggnog, peanut butter fudge, chocolate chip cookies and that cracker candy wasn’t a lot? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Well, that was the holidays. It’s never been a competition.”

“You still raised the bar but before I forget,” the cat reached over to pick up the wrapped box. “Look what I found when I got here.”

Ladybug looked over the box in his hand reading the card. “Aww from Ms. Marseille. She must’ve liked the flowers that we left last time for a thank you for letting us use this place. Do you know what it is?”

“Nope,” Chat Noir shook his head. “I was waiting for you.”

Both of the heroes started to undo the ribbons and tear at the wrapping paper to reveal a white box with a brown cursive font : Houde’s Assorted Chocolate Sampler.

“A box of chocolate,” Ladybug announced. “From the size I’m going to guess that there are about fifty to one hundred chocolates in here.”

“That’s sweet,” Chat Noir smiled.

“Pun intended?” Ladybug asked.

The cat’s eyes widened, completely baffled. “Actually no, but that was so oblivious. Why didn’t I think that? Wow, I haven’t been out of the suit that long and I’m already rusty.”

“As long as your fighting skills aren’t rusty, the bug plucked the card from the wrapping paper pile. “You’ll be okay.”

This had no intention of this becoming a habit, meeting up like this. It had started a few months ago when Chat Noir had noticed his partner suffering from another round of serve burnout. Instead of her liveliness she could be easily described as weary, stressed and paranoid. He had tried to approach the topic a few times as time sailed by but it seemed that she became more and more sealed off. However, there was one attack that made all his concerns impossible to ignore. It seemed that day Ladybug was suffering from a creative block as she was struggling to find a use for her lucky charm.

Their time crunch had almost become disastrous as their opponent had geared up for his final attack while his partner’s timer was running out. Instinctively, Chat Noir snatched the cinderblock from her hand and chucked it at the villain knocking him out. Before pushing the bug into a nearby alleyway to prevent her from revealing her identity. Crisis was averted but clearly something had to be done for the benefit of everyone. So the same night instead of doing patrol he led her to the patio so they could talk. This wasn’t an intervention but to have a conversation partner to partner, friend to friend.

Ladybug admitted that multiple people in her personal life had already asked the same thing. She had still been reeling from losing Master Fu and stumbling through not only her guardian duties atop of everything else on her plate. That she had been feeling like a lost soul. After their discussion, it felt nice to bring those feelings out in the open. The next patrol night Ladybug had given him a bag of chocolate chip cookies as a thank you. This became a pattern of them meeting up and talking. At first, it seemed this was a way for his partner to air out some grievances.

Eventually it had gotten to the point of becoming therapeutic for the both of them. Chat Noir had opened up about a few things himself. Not having the fear of what he would say would tarnish the Agreste brand. Or even worse, it somehow got back to his father. It had turned into a monthly custom coming here with permission from the apartment building’s owner Ms. Marseille. Chat Noir had met and struck a deal with her a few months ago after falling asleep on the patio due to exhaustion.

The heroes communicated with her through a string of notes, giving her as little information as possible for everyone’s safety. If she fell under Shadow Moth’s influence there would not be not much to tell. The point of this was not about romance although a version of himself from not so long ago would have jumped at the opportunity. Instead things had changed, starting with his partner’s unceremonious shift to guardian.

“So…do you think he’s hibernating?” questioned Chat Noir as he sat on one of the couches. He had finished up the sugar cookie he was eating in one hand while holding a cup of hot chocolate in the other.

Ladybug looked up from the cup of hot chocolate in her hand. She had wrapped herself in one of the fluffy blankets. “Who…wait are you talking about Shadow Moth?”

“Well we haven’t heard from him since a few days before the snowstorm,” he said. “Maybe that’s why we haven’t heard from him lately.”

“It’s not like he’s a bear, Chat. If he was it would be some shapeshifter bear,” she told him. “We have seen him in person multiple times and he looks human.”

“You seem to be forgetting that we live in a world where magic beings can grant people superpowers through jewelry. That with one word I can automatically destroy whatever I touch. You can fix millions of euros of property damage and heal the injured by a magical swarm of ladybugs.”

Her eyes shifted to the side. “Well, when you put it like that.”

The cat’s lips spread into a smirk. “So a shapeshifting bear doesn’t sound so crazy now, does it?”

Ladybug shook her head. “I don’t know if I can accept that without legitimate proof. Even if you might be right. Remember the last time that I had jumped to conclusions. Does Gabriel Agreste ring a bell?”

Chat Noir’s smirk tightened into a lip bite. “Yeah…it’s good we realized it was a dead end before accusing him. He definitely would’ve taken offense.”

“Who wouldn’t? It’s not like it’s a compliment. I thought it made sense at the time. But the truth is it really could be anybody and that is what makes it scary.”

“Have you ever considered that it could be someone that we actually know?”

“It has crossed my mind a few times,” the bug took a slip of her hot chocolate. “I also would have passed him on the street. My earrings could be taken anytime if he knew. It would become the beginning of the end. There was even a moment when I thought it was.”

“Wait really? When did this happen?”

“A few weeks ago. It turned out to be a false alarm so that’s why I didn’t bring it up sooner. I wouldn’t have kept it from you if it was serious.”

“Can you still tell me?“

“Sure, I went to that popular burger shop downtown with my friends. When it was my turn to order and pay, the cashier who looked around his forties asked me where I got my earrings. I just froze, since no one really comments on them.”

“What happened next?”

“It turns out that he was asking because his daughter’s birthday was in a couple weeks and thought they would be a nice gift for her. I told him that they were a family heirloom. I directed him to the Sparkle Boutique across the street as they sell a lot of pretty earrings. After I got my food I stayed close to my friends making sure I couldn’t be caught alone, just in case. Nothing came out of it but…”

“You can be too careful?” the cat finished her sentence.

“Exactly, after all we’ve been through,” the bug sighed. “All that we had lost… there is no such thing as being too careful.”

There was a beat of silence between them, for the oblivious.

“I know how you felt, a while back after getting my ring my father noticed and asked about it.”

“What did you say?”

“Something along the lines of was the only thing that he noticed about me. It’s been a while since it happened.”

“What about things with your dad? You mentioned last time we did this you were concerned about the holidays with him after an incident the previous year.”

“Things were fine, we had a holiday party. He was actually pretty involved in the planning. Something that he had never really done before.”

“How was the party?”

“It was fun but it didn’t go off without a hitch. Behind the scenes some of the presents had gotten switched around. So I fixed that before the gift exchange. The caterers came late so we had to eat later than planned. Luckily, there were snacks to tie people over until the food got there. However I had heard nothing but good things from my friends so it seemed that no one but us noticed.“

“That’s a relief right?”

“Yeah. But since then he has been nothing but closed off. I guess his work has spiked up after the holidays as he mostly stays in his office. There’s nothing much to report besides that.”

“Was it at least better than the previous year? From the tiny bit that you had told me it was pretty bad. Not only that but we also had to fight Santa Claws.”

“It was. Honestly, I was expecting to slip out at least once that night. I was surprised that I didn’t. Maybe Shadow Moth was able to spend time with some family or friends. Those poor souls.”

“Chat-“

“What? Considering all that he had done. Do you think that he’s a good friend? A nice uncle, a sweet grandson or a generous father? I don’t think someone like that can keep all that evilness in until putting on a mask.”

“It’s possible, don’t think that I’m defending him. I’m not, but it’s also possible that he was hiding in plain sight. A lot of people put on facades to hide their wrongdoings. For all we know he might be one of the sweetest seeming people around.”

“What would happen if it was someone you knew.”

“Huh?”

“When we eventually unmask Shadow Moth, what would you do if it’s someone that you know?”

“It depends on who it is. If it was someone that I liked or respected. I would be deeply disappointed especially if we were close. Or the only way that I know them is because they’re close because of someone like a friend. That would hurt.”

“What if it was someone you didn’t like?”

“It certainly will be a lot easier. Depending on who it is, everything might suddenly make sense. Either way the outcome would be the same. I can’t let that slide and they need to be punished for their crimes.”

“Even if it’s someone that you know?”

“All the damage and harm that’s been done doesn’t suddenly vanish because he was one of my school teachers or a friend of my parents. I already gave someone a second chance against my better judgment and we both know how that turned out.”

The cat’s eyes shifted to the side, aware of what his partner was alluding to. After the events of Miracle Queen and the fallout from it. It had made him question the legitimacy of second chances when it comes to this area.

“I’m not saying that people shouldn’t give others second chances. But I learned from what happened after the Miracle Queen incident to be more selective with them. In my opinion, Shadow Moth shouldn’t be allowed not to face any consequences for what he did. Why? Are you trying to tell me something?”

Chat Noir shook his head. “No, lately it’s just I’ve been wondering what could happen when we get to that point.”

“It probably won’t be happening for a good while.”

“How do you know?”

“Based on what we learned during the Time Tagger attack. It’s clear that we are going to be doing this for the next couple years.”

“That actually doesn’t sound so bad. Who wouldn’t want to be a hero for the next couple years.”

Ladybug seemed to slightly flinch. “So what about you? What would you do?”

“About what?”

“We haven’t really talked about this much as we don’t know how the scenario is going to play out. There’s a possibility that you might have to make the decision in retrieving the butterfly miraculous, alone.”

“Alone? What about you?”

“It’s not like I’m going to try not to show up. But depending on the situation. I might not be able to do it. So, what would you do if Shadow Moth is someone that you know? You think that you can put your feelings aside?”

“Of course,” he spoke brazenly before faltering. “I mean…I like to think that I would be. If not, that would mean what I’ve been doing for over a year would be for nothing.”

“It wouldn’t be for nothing. The city had been saved multiple times by us. Many times I would’ve been in danger if you hadn’t been there with me. You had stepped up the day I had trouble figuring out my lucky charm. So don’t base your worth on something that hasn’t happened yet.”

“You’re not the first person that has said something like that to me. But you’re right. I feel the same way as you. Shadow Moth has done so much for him not to face any consequences. How many times have we almost died because of him?”

“About two hundred and fifty times.”

Chat Noir’s eyes widened. “You actually counted?”

“Well…it’s a rough estimate,” Ladybug admitted. “So take it with a grain of salt. But I do have a knack when it comes to keeping records. Remember, I’m the one who put together the villain database for the reserve heroes.”

“Based on that fact alone, I would rather it be a stranger. That’s easier than knowingly fighting who I thought was good, at least deep down. But again, maybe it was fate for me to be picked to do this if that is the case. If it’s true then it’s really my responsibility to bring them in. At least that won’t have to be for the next couple years, luckily.”

“You didn’t seem bothered about still having to do this for the next couple years.”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? Are you?”

Ladybug bit her lip before putting the cup in her hands on the table, like she was stalling. “I should just say it. Especially since I recently had a discussion about not swallowing my feelings with important stuff like this.”

“With who? Was it Guitar Strings, Sneakers, Cap, Glasses…”

“Wow, when you list my friends’ fake names like that. It sounds like my whole social circle is made of things you find in a scavenger hunt.”

“You were the one that picked them for privacy. Which is fair as I don’t know anyone named Hand Sanitizer.”

The bug chuckled softly. “That’s why I chose it. But…I don’t like the uncertainty of it all. Naturally things are going to change in a few years. So what else that I might have to give up because I’m Ladybug? Even not hearing from Shadow Moth kinda has me on edge.”

“Really? I figured you of all people would have enjoyed the break.”

“I do, it’s nice to have a couple days off. To be able to rest and not rush through everything so I can drop it at a moment’s notice. But it gives me this uneasy feeling that this break is because he’s planning something big. I don’t plan to leave Paris hanging. It’s just the uncertainty that gets me. How does it not get to you?”

“It’s probably because of the life that I had. Before getting this ring I never had many choices. There were many times I wanted to get away from it. Where everything had been planned for me without my input. The next thing that I knew there was a random box in my room.”

“So it gave you a chance.”

“Exactly, for the longest time that I thought that would be enough. It wasn’t until recently that I realized there’s more than that. The problems don’t disappear once I put on the mask. In fact, more happens because of it. But me becoming Chat Noir was one of the few choices that I solely made on my own. So I would rather sit with uncertainty knowing it’s my decision rather than going back to structure without choices.”

“I never thought of it like that.”

“You don’t have to see it the same way. Those are my personal reasons. You just have to find your own way to make peace with the situation.”

“Hopefully I will, someday.”

Seconds ticked by, as the two looked at each other with a new understanding with each other. The type couldn’t be achieved without taking heed of one another.

“Whoa, things got super heavy all of a sudden,” the cat quipped, breaking the silence. “So how about we lighten the mood a bit? I didn’t come here today just for the heart to heart confessions.”

“Really?” Ladybug raised a brow, almost if she sensed the direction her partner was trying to lead them. “What else did you come for then?”

Chat Noir reached forward grabbing the brown shopping bag on the table. He pulled out a deck of playing cards bound by a rubber band. “We have a score to settle.”

A smirk spread on the bug’s face. “You mean the score where I had beaten you 30-19 in cards?”

“That’s the one,” a competitive spark gleamed in his eyes. “You in?”

“Only if we can open up the box of chocolates from Ms. Marseille to share,” Ladybug bargained.

“Deal,” Chat Noir undid the rubber band. “By the way, nineteen isn’t so bad against a strategist like you. Have you ever considered that all this time I have been luring you into a false sense of security?”

“Well, let’s see. I’m always glad when we get to hang out like this. So you pick the game especially since you brought the snacks.”

“How about… the game of pure strategy,” the cat shuffled the cards. “But I must warn you that I have been practicing since the last time we played.”

“Bring it on,” the bug dared. “You’re not the only one around here who isn’t afraid of a challenge.”

“Good, I was waiting for this all week,” Chat Noir started to deal the cards. “There’s nothing better than checking in with a friend.”

It’s a suitable way to keep the light fading in the overwhelming darkness.

The End.

Thanks for reading! 😊

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you enjoy all the stories that I have written. I thought this was a nice story to have Ladybug and Chat Noir just simply talking like good friends. I have noticed in my recent works I didn’t have them really socialize. They interacted but it’s more like here what we do to reach our mission statement. So I had to fix that. They’re still talking about hero stuff but it’s in a more relaxed environment.

This story is also available on Wattpad.

Since this is the final part, will do the closing statements here. If you are reading this the day it was originally posted then you are aware that today is Saturday. After posting my previous story Promise? on Saturday. I realized that I like posting on that day gives me more time to put everything together. So my official post day will now be Saturday.

At least for now. Another change is I have decided to do once a month posting. I’m going to face big changes in my personal life soon. And while I don’t want to give up posting, it seems more fair for everybody to just post once a month. This way each story can get the proper time it deserves without me being overwhelmed by prior commitments. Readers won’t get large gaps between content.

I will still be on the platform reading and appreciating other people’s posts. But posting myself will be a once a month period now. For those who have been following me all this time. I really appreciate your patience and support.

The song for this week is “Winter Sound” by Of Monster and Men. I believe it gives an all encompassing feel of all three stories.

See you next time. 👋

[ericac318]

Miss Alabama

Summary:

Happy April, 25th! In honor of Miss Congeniality Day, I’m putting out this short fic that’s been on my mind for years. Ella Westbrook won the title of Miss Alabama and she’s ready to compete for the crown and become Miss United States. She met Stan Feilds while competing in Alabama and they began a fling … one that needs to remain a secret,

Continue reading here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46752172/chapters/117750235

Chapter 1

Ella walked into the breakfast that would start off the competition, wondering how long until she’d be able to find a minute alone with Stan.

She sat down at a table with contestants from Hawaii, Rhode Island, Texas, and New Jersey.

“Ladies, I’d like you to meet Gracie Lou Freebush from New Jersey,” Cheryl began, “She’s awesome and you’re all going to love her!”

Ella introduced herself before she zoned out of the conversation while her eyes wandered to Stan where he stood next to Kathy Morningside, causing her to feel just a bit jealous. She had to resist laughing to herself because she didn’t even know if she and Stan were exclusive.

Ella’s thoughts were interrupted when Ms. Morningside took the stage before introducing Stan. Ella held back her enthusiasm as she applauded with a normal amount of excitement.

“Good morning!” Stan exclaimed, “I’m so honored to be your Master of Ceremonies for one last time. Sadly, this will be my last pageant as I’ll be retiring at the end of this season,” he glanced out over the crowd and saw Ella’s expression which was a mix of surprise and sadness. “Don’t cry for me … Alabama,” he added, making a pun on the famous song and reaching out to Ella at the same time.

“He’s not gettin' fired,” Mary Jo blurted out, “I talked to him this morning and the poor man blurted out the whole thing. They’re firing him for a newer, younger host.”

Before he could continue, Gracie shouted, “Jesus Christ!” She quickly stood up, apologizing, “I’m so sorry. I had a bit of my bagel without praying.”

Once she was done with her prayer, the rest of the opening ceremonies finished. Ella wanted to check on Stan, but she had to rush to dance rehearsal.

After the many activities included in the first official day of the pageant, Ella made her way to her room where she discovered she was roommates with Gracie Lou Freebush.

“I’m glad I got a good roomie,” Ella stated, relief clear in her voice, “I am not the most beauty-oriented girl and some of these ladies are just too much,” she added, hoping she’d read Gracie’s personality correctly.

Gracie let out a long sigh, “You’re chill! Thank goodness. I’m ok with all of the beauty prep before the events but my sleep is sacred and it will not be interrupted by any kind of night routine,” she shared, causing both of the women to let out a laugh.

Their joy was interrupted by a knock at the door, which Gracie answered. They were joined by Cheryl offering hot chocolate.

“You two are so awesome,” Cheryl stated as she poured them all a drink from her thermos, “One of you will definitely win,” she nearly lamented as she looked at her competition.

Ella shook her head, “Don’t you dare count yourself out, Rhode Island. You are adorable and witty. What’s your talent? I’m sure it’s amazing!”

Cheryl blushed before she answered, “Don’t make fun of me, but it’s baton twirling,” she replied, her tone timid.

“That’s really cool,” Ella responded, “I’m going to sing. Do you use flaming batons?” she inquired.

Cheryl shook her head, “I can’t do that. My parents would be horrified. They don’t like anything ostentatious and they really don’t like fire,” she confessed before turning back to Gracie, “What’s your talent? I know it’s something astounding.”

“It’s a …” Gracie fumbled for a moment before she settled on a response, “It’s a surprise.”

Ella stood from her bed and announced, “Alright ladies, I hope you two have fun gossiping. I have somewhere to be.”

“Where?” Gracie questioned, her brows raised in curiosity.

Ella sighed, “Can you both keep a secret? Like, really keep one?” Once they both nodded and fulfilled a pinky promise, she continued, “I’ve been seeing Stan Fields since I was in my competition. I can’t go to his room like I’d like to tonight, but we’re meeting by the pool since that can look like something that just happened,” she revealed, awaiting judgment from her new friends, shocked she’d chosen to share her deepest secret.

“He’s not a judge and he’s a very nice man,” Cheryl began, “Do what your heart tells you to do.”

Gracie merely nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, ladies,” Ella whispered before she made her way out of their room which was right beside the pool, no idea that her innocent fling made her a suspect.

Ella saw Stan sitting in one of the lounge chairs on the opposite side of the pool so she walked over to take a seat on one next to his.

“So, you’re retiring?” she asked once she was settled, keeping her voice low while wishing she could join him on his chair.

He shook his head, “I’m not really retiring but that’s what they want me to say. It shouldn’t matter too much to you. You can’t compete twice,” he added as he resisted the urge to reach out and take her hand in his own.

“I suppose you’re right,” she responded, “I guess I just had this picture in my mind of life after this pageant. My plan was going to be to help girls and stay by your side. I suppose I’ll need to figure to figure out something new,” she shared before continuing, “I really wish I could climb on top of you,” she whispered, enjoying the way his breath caught from the mere suggestion.

He chose to change the subject instead of giving in to the thoughts racing through his mind, “Are you going to be singing my song tomorrow for the talent competition?”

Ella’s lips curled into a mischievous grin as she replied, “Would you like it if I sing ‘There You’ll Be’? I’m prepared to do so,” she responded as she caught the roll of his eyes.

“Why do you enjoy being such a tease?” he challenged as he held in a frustrated groan.

She shrugged as she stood from her seat, “It must have something to do with my youth. See you tomorrow,” she added with a flirty little wave as she made her way back to her room.

[bykronos]

EP8. THE SWAMP

The moment Mrs. Wilde and Peaches emerged from the swirling depths of a deep violet cloud, the tranquil sounds of the forest shattered, scattering birds and sending animals fleeing into the shadows. Gritting her teeth, Mrs. Wilde seized Peaches by the throat, her eyes blazing. “Why did you bring us here?”

Peaches struggled to meet her gaze, defiantly replying, “You would’ve been dead, Mama! He was right behind you!”

“What good is that now?” she snapped, frustration bubbling over. “Do you even know where we are?”

“Not really,” Peaches admitted, his voice shaky. “I just wanted to save you. I imagined a safe place, but… I don’t think this is it.”

They trudged deeper into the swamp, the air thick with humidity and the stench of decay. Gnarled trees loomed above, their twisted roots snaking through the muddy ground like skeletal fingers.

Finally, they stumbled upon a dilapidated house, smoke curling lazily from the chimney, an eerie contrast against the gloomy surroundings. Ms. Wilde approached cautiously, knocking on the creaking door. It swung open with an unsettling ease, revealing a faun draped in shadows, a heavy chain clinking around his neck.

“Please, come in,” he said, his voice smooth yet laced with an unsettling edge. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Unease prickled at Ms. Wilde’s skin, but helpless curiosity pushed them forward into the dim interior. There, in the corner, sat an old man, cloaked in darkness, slumped in a low chair.

“Hello, sir… do we know you?” Mama Wilde asked, her voice faltering.

The man’s rusty voice filled the room. “I hardly think so… but Nasul surely does… I am his brother.”

Silence enveloped them, thick with unspoken secrets and a chilling sense of fate.

[justlydiasworld]

AVOID ME

Pairing: Robin Buckley x F!Reader

Summary: An ex-best friend of yours-Robin Buckley, tries her best to avoid you at all cost. You don’t know the reason behind all of this,but you’ve been playing along. Not until you had no other choice but to share a queen sized bed with her. Will secrets be shared? Who knows? Let’s dive in.

Warning(s): angst, hurt reader/robin, bit of fluff,etc. (if I miss anything, please don’t hesitate to tell me.)

part 2 -

please let me know if you would want to be tagged on the next part!

Authors note: This idea randomly came when I was talking to a mutual of mine @crow-the-birdie . We were talking about the enemies to lovers dynamic and then the bed trope. I immediately thought of Robin and f!reader because it fits perfectly. Or that’s what I think. My inbox/messages are still open. If you need any ideas or request rules, press the link down below. 👇

Links: angst prompt list | fluff prompt list | requesting rules | nsfw prompt list | date idea prompt list

“And that is it for this class, you guys may be dismissed.” Mr.Marley neatly stacked the homework sheets and sat them on his wooden desk. Pushing back his glasses Mr.Marley notices the field trip forms in the corner.He widens his eyes for a seconds and clears his throat.

—-

You were packing your things swiftly,and ready to head out of this class. A sudden swoosh breezes pass your exposed skin. Leaving chills down your spine. It was Robin. It seems like she always tends to leave this class earlier than most students- maybe because you’re in her classes. You let out a huge sigh and roll your eyes. Ever since last years prom- she never tries to approach you again. Robin often glances time to time but she never tried to shoot a conversation. You’ve convinced yourself she hates you. Robin excludes you out of group projects, leaves you to each lunch alone, talks over you whenever you get the chance to answer questions- so on and so forth.

As Robin tries to leave the class- she was stopped by Mr.Marley. “Uh uh uh, not so fast ms.buckley.” He took his hand and placed it in front of Robin, almost leaning forward. “u-uh, did I do something wrong Mr.Marley? I know I alway leave your class super super early- but I swear I have a good reason. Or-or that’s what I would like to say but-“ Mr.Marley raises an eyebrow,giving Robin a look. “You aren’t in any trouble ms.buckely. I just have to make an announcement before anybody gets the chance to leave today.”

He grabs the field trip form and holds it up in the air. “Everybody listen up.” You turned your head to see the brown haired teacher holding up a form. “We will be having a fun field trip for this year,and I would like you to have this signed and turned in by tomorrow morning. We’ll be checking out museums, stores , and sleeping in a hotel.” Your mouth opens slightly- this was so sudden. You raised your hand in the air in curiosity. His eyes roaming around in the room-finally noticing your hand being raised.

“Yes.Question?“ he points at you with a blank face. “You mentioned sleeping in a hotel right?” Your arms now flung down onto the side. “Yes,yes I have.” His arms now crossed and held close. “I’m sure all of these students won’t have a singular room for themselves- are we sharing a bed?a room? Are their two beds? Could you explain please?” You grabbed your book bag that was sitting on your chair, brows furrowed- you can see Robin avoiding eye contact. She’s playing with her rings, a nervous wreck. That’s what she was.

“Good question,Ms. y/n/l.” A small grin tugs his mouth in the corner. Robin takes a seat near the door and slowly swings her back pack onto the desk. “We will be sharing a room. Two girls in one room. Two guys in one room. And unfortunately there’s one room with only one bed. You may have to sleep with the other person or either you or them can sleep on the floor. It’s up to the person who gets the room.” He eyes at Robin and it seems like he was pulling something. Silence filled the class and you were pretty satisfied with the answer- convinced that you might share a room or even a bed with other students besides Robin. Or hopefully not Robin.

After all, you did tell Mr.Marley about the whole situation many many times. Surprisingly-Robin didn’t interrupt you this once. Which was a bit shocking but you didn’t give it much of a thought. “Get those signed.” He handed each students a form- now leaving the room one by one. Now it was you and Robin left in the room. Why didn’t she leave like always? As you took the slip from his hands- you gave him a nod and left class. It was just Robin left behind.

“M-Mr. Marley?” Robin twisted her rings and gave an awkward smile. “Yes Robin?” He raised his brows once again and noticed the nervous brunette. “Am I sharing a bed with..uhm-“ she turns her head, making sure you aren’t there to listen to the conversation. “-y/n?” Mr.Marley grinned at the brunettes flushed face. “Not that I care. I definitely don’t like her. Yeah. Not a bit. She’s a butt. Mhm. A pain in the a-“ as she was about to finish, Robin saw the soft head shake that the teacher made. “Yeah sorry..” she muttered underneath her breath. “Robin, I think it’s time to talk it out with her. It’s now or never.” He took a seat on his swivel. She lets out a sigh and her head down low. “I made this field trip specifically for this situation.” He stapled some sheets together and does the same thing to the other sheets that were now laid perfectly down flat. “Oh w-wow,uhm, you would go that far for us Mr.Marley? I mean of course you would. We’re you’re students. And it would be stupid if you didn’t care for us because you’re our teacher so if you didn’t-” She tilted her head and gave a toothy smile. “I’m doing it again,arent I?”

He looked at the brunette and looked at her and said,” Robin,if there’s one thing you should know about me.” He stopped and continued to staple more sheets of papers. “I don’t put in effort into something meaningless. Trust me. I know how much you love that girl.” He chuckled and pushed back his glasses with his index finger. “Lo-Love? No,I hate her. I absolutely despise her. I cannot stand her.” She stomped her feet softly on the ground, trying her hardest to convince her teacher that she totally did not love you.

He sighed and got up from his chair and leaned on one of the desks. Robins eyes following his every step. “You have to tell her the truth. The reason why you pushed yourself away from her,Robin. That’s all I can say. I’m merely you’re teacher, this field trip is my part of helping you out. Do your part,will ya’?” He crossed his arms and stared at the freckled brunette. Robin on the other hand knows that you deserve the truth, but there’s no point in telling you now. You practically hate her. Or so that’s what Robin thinks.

—- NEXT DAY —-

“Thank you for turning the forms in on time.” Mr.Marley says as each students walk in his class with the signed form. Robin nervously taps on the desk and waits patiently. A few seconds later, you ran in the door and apologized for being late. You handed him the form and you can see Robin just examining your face. It’s like she never got to actually see your face. You rolled your eyes,expecting the brunette to say something stupid and put you down again. “ I don’t like your smile. “ or “ what is that smell? “ and she turns to stare at you and says “ oh it’s just you.” As you broke the small moment of eye contact, Robin’s body froze up. That eye roll and pissed face, she didn’t like that at all. Her body felt so heavy, her heart filling with guilt and regret.

—-IN THE BUS —-

You couldn’t believe what Mr.Marley said. “We have specific seats on the bus?” One student called out, sitting on the rubber cushion. “Yes,we do.” He grabs the sheet of paper and fixes his glasses to call the names out and point out where they’re seating and who they will be sitting with. A groan left all of the students lips and yours too. You couldn’t believe it.

—

You couldn’t believe this at all. You were paired up with buckely. Robin buckley. You thought it was a mistake but now you couldn’t say a thing because all of the other students were happy with their seating arrangements and the bus took off.What’s worse is that Mr.Marley already went and took a seat on the front row. You were in the back.

You sigh and look down on the floor. Your thighs almost touching robins. She nervously watches as your sorrowful eyes meet the cold flooring. It struck Robin that she made you feel this way. She did this to you. Robin was near the window and she tried her best to avoid your soft gaze. It seemed quieter for the both of you when the bus were filled with other students,yelling and laughing at jokes that weren’t funny and laughable.

- 11:00 pm (still heading to the hotel.) -

“so, why’d you avoid me for 3 years.” You had no clue where you had this sudden confidence burst from,but you were dazed, closing and shutting your eyes slowly.But she couldn’t see that because you turned your head away from hers, avoiding to make eye contact to the person who left you with no explanation.Robins eyes widened and turned to see your trembled hand. Trembling. “ I’m so sorry (y/n). It’s such a childish reasoning but I hope you’ll forgive me. Please.” Robin wants to take your soft hands and hold them tenderly, and with care. She never intended to hurt you, but she did. She thought maybe if she acted cold towards you, maybe the feelings she had for you, would also turn cold. And that logic didn’t work. It only broke robins poor heart to see you in this kind of state, what’s even worse is that she did this to you. She caused this all. As soon Robin opened her mouth. Your head gently falls on her shoulder. A slight weight on Robin. She froze up once again and smiled. Hesitantly but now kissing the top of your head and gently placed her head on top of yours.

- 2:00 am ( still on the bus ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )-

Soon enough,all you can hear was the rain pouring outside of the school bus. Hitting gently on the glass windows. Like rushing waters that had a slight soothing sound that came with every drop. You opened your eyes roughly, waking up to the sound of thunder. Making you jump a bit, clinging onto robins arm. “I’m- im so sorry.” You looked up and you weren’t expecting the both of you being so close to each other’s faces. Hearing the heart beats bouncing off the bus. Silence roaming around but the soft breathing that Robin made, only you and her being able to hear. Another lightning appeared outside, but this time you could see how the light was shown on robins freckled face. Nose to nose, breath to breath,body on body.