#now to scrape this mess off my face oh my god idk how im going to wear this for hours

[aliosne]

It’s comin together!!!

[offtopicoverload]

Get Lucky

so i totally forgot about this request from @renluthor for like. two months, terribly sorry, but i finally finished it lmao. bit different than what we had discussed, but i had a lot of fun with it and think it turned out decent enough, hope you enjoy it also idk how to tag on ao3, i hope this works fine

M Rating (still suck at rating, there's drinking and kissing so)

Zoey x MC (Bea)

~1700 words (still pretty short since i cant seem to get my word count up rn but im also not that fussed)

Read on Ao3

-

Bea Hughes stands in the middle of Belvoire’s quad on her first day at the school, staring down a snarling beast, some bitch named Poppy that’s really starting to get on her nerves. “You know what, Poppy?” she snarks, “I’m really going to enjoy tearing you down. Something tells me nobody likes you half as much as you like yourself.” She pauses, glancing around before her gaze lands on some frat bro, “Michael, how often does Poppy call you an idiot?”

He frowns, face downcast, “Every day. My therapist says it isn’t good to surround myself with people who bring me down, but my parents are friends with Poppy’s and -”

“Oh my god, nobody asked to be invited to your pity party, Michael!” Poppy shouts, effectively cutting him off with a stamp of her foot.

Bea’s scowl grows, “You know what nobody asked to be invited to? Poppy’s Daily Bitch-Fest. Death by migraine would be more pleasant.”

“Oh, you haven’t even seen Poppy’s Daily Bitch-Fest,” her eyes narrow at Bea dangerously, “But if you’d like a demonstration, by all means, be my guest of -”

“Hey Bea! Look at the time, we gotta go!” Someone takes hold of Bea’s wrist, tugging her along and away from the crowd, from Michael, and from Poppy and her glare. She’s pulled into a sprint across the lawn, running wildly until they’re inside a dorm and standing before some door.

“Wish the circumstances were different, but welcome to the Winfrey dorm complex, aka your new home!” The girl lets Bea’s wrist drop back to her side, gesturing widely with one hand as she fumbles to unlock the door with the other.

She finally succeeds, throwing the door open and ushering Bea inside, the door slamming shut behind them. Bea’s eyes immediately rove over the expensive decor and nice furniture of the huge dorm she’s somehow stumbled upon.

The girl collapses on a couch, kicking her feet up as she looks over to Bea, “So, you got out of that one alive. Barely,” she adds under her breath. “How are you feeling?”

Bea follows suit, slumping down on the opposite side, toying with the hem of her shirt distractedly. “Honestly, you’re gorgeous,” she shrugs, watching the fabric slide between her fingertips. She freezes, slowly glancing to Zoey, “...is what I was thinking, but did I just say it out loud?”

A laugh bursts from Zoey, her head falling back, “You did, and you’re absolutely, positively right. Not to mention easy on the eyes yourself,” she grins, winking at Bea, before sticking her hand out. “I’m Zoey Wade, your roomie,” she shakes Bea’s hand when their palms meet, “This right here is our dorm. Your room’s on the left, mine’s on the right.”

“Okay,” Bea responds abruptly, sinking into the cushions and crossing her arms beneath her chest. “Okay,” she repeats.

Zoey glances over to her, “Are you okay?”

Bea’s eyes flicker to her dark ones, “Yes. Yes, because I got lucky on the roommate front,” she smiles, albeit somewhat forced.

“That you did,” Zoey smiles right back. “In fact, I know the perfect place to get you off campus until the hype dies down.” she jumps to her feet, crossing to the front door before Bea can even react.

She scrambles to her feet, nearly tripping on the corner of the coffee table, “Wait!” Zoey spins as she swings the door open, winking before disappearing down the corner, Bea nearly sprinting to catch up.

---

An hour later, Bea and Zoey are sitting in a dim corner of a Soho speakeasy, soft music and conversation buzzing in the background. Half-drunk Manhattans sit before them, their own voices adding to the soft din of chatter flowing in the space.

“How’d you find this place?” Bea inquires curiously, her eyes scanning the building and its patrons. It’s cozy and warm, the inviting atmosphere a sharp contrast to Belvoire’s intimidating one.

“Connections,” Zoey’s shoulders rise in a nonchalant shrug, unbothered as she scrolls her phone.

“Whose?”

Zoey looks up from her phone, gaze meeting Bea’s as she smirks, “Can’t spill all my secrets on the first day, babe.”

“Why not?” Bea challenges, one eyebrow quirked.

Zoey’s phone is set face down on the table as she looks at Bea mysteriously, smiling secretively, “As sweet as you are, I always need a few cards up my sleeve.”

“How many you got?”

“I’ll never tell,” she winks, in what Bea is quickly learning to be her default.

“I thought the whole point of coming here was to learn more about each other, roomie,” Bea counters pointedly.

Zoey shakes her head, leaning back against the booth, “The point of coming here is avoiding the campus harpy that goes by the name of Poppy.”

“So you don’t want to get to know me? Or let me get to know you?”

“Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll tell you something.”

Bea just her bottom lip out in a pout, her eyes wide and innocent as she blinks up at Zoey. She only smiles coyly in return, drinking her cocktail as Bea deflates, sighing and slumping backwards.

“You are so lucky you’re cute,” Zoey hums from the back of her throat.

Bea grins before schooling her expression into something flirtatious, “I’m hoping I’ll get luckier.”

Zoey laughs at that, just as loud and unrestrained as back in their dorm, “Nice try. At least buy me a drink first.”

“I’ll buy you the whole bar, how about that?”

“I’ll take another Manhattan for now,” Zoey laughs, sinking back into the booth as Bea jumps up, weaving through the speakeasy’s crowd to get back to the bar.

She returns a few minutes later, wiggling the drinks in her hands enticingly with a wide grin on her lips. She slides back into her seat, sipping her own bright coloured cocktail as she looks to Zoey.

“So what made you want to come to Belvoire? Long way from home, right?” Zoey plays with her drink, scraping a cherry off a toothpick with her front teeth.

Bea shrugs, “It’s a good school, and I thought it’d be fun to try something new… But now I’m mixed up in petty drama,” a sigh shifts her shoulders, Zoey stilling her absentminded fidgeting.

“Petty drama, maybe, but you’re making a name for yourself,” she nudges Bea with her elbow. “That’s more than a lot of people can say.”

“So you don’t think I’m totally screwed?”

“Hmm,” one carefully manicured nail taps Zoey’s chin. “I give it ten to one odds,” she finally decides, smiling sweetly across the table.

Bea frowns, a dent forming between her brows as the girl across from her’s smile grows in amusement, “Those aren’t good odds.”

“But there’s still a chance. Look, I know I don’t know you very well, but you seem like the type to pull it off.”

“Seems like you’re just trying to flatter me.”

“And what if I was?”

“I guess I’d wonder if there was a reason for it.”

“Can’t a cute girl be reason enough?”

Bea lets her gaze rake over Zoey suggestively, “I suppose so.”

“See? You’re smart, you’ll be fine,” she encourages. “Probably.”

“Ugh,” with a groan, Bea’s head falls forward, forehead crashing against the table.

“Nope, nope, nope,” Zoey chastises above her, “No moping.”

Bea turns, her cheek pressing into the wood, “What else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re going to dance,” Zoey announces, standing with her palms flat on the tabletop. She cocks her head at Bea expectantly, sauntering out to the dancefloor when Bea takes the hint, popping up and chasing behind her.

The dance floor's more crowded than anywhere else, couples and friend groups moving in unison to the beat thundering through the air. Zoey whirls around, dancing to the peppy song currently playing until Bea’s joined her, swinging her hips and throwing her arms about carelessly.

The song’s change, the crowd moves as one, and the pair spin and jump and whirl, Zoey taking Bea’s hands and twirling her until she’s laughing and dizzy. Time ticks past until they’re both breathless and sweaty, leaning against one another for support.

“You’re a pretty good dancer,” Zoey chuckles, her breath brushing Bea’s cheek, goosebumps breaking across her skin.

A grin breaks Bea’s lips too, relaxed and somewhat tired, “Right back atcha.”

Zoey throws her arm over Bea’s shoulders, fingers knitting behind her neck as she looks down at the shorter girl, her messy hair and gleaming eyes, her smudged lipstick and shining teeth. One hand retracts, the pad of her thumb swiping lightly beneath Bea’s lips, cleaning up the mess on her skin.

Bea’s breath hitches, her eyes widening in the dim lighting of the speakeasy, glued to Zoey’s dark ones as they shift over parted lips. “Hey, Bea?” she whispers, thumb still ghosting over Bea’s skin.

“Yeah?” she whispers back, the exhale skimming Zoey’s skin now.

“Are you still trying to get lucky?”

“God yes,” she groans.

Zoey bends down, letting her lips softly graze Bea’s, just barely making contact. Smudged lips chase hers, Zoey smiling before Bea’s palms are on her cheeks, tugging her downwards, her own thumbs brushing along high cheekbones.

Zoey’s hands find her hips, pulling her closer until they’re bodies fit together, only heat between them under the lights. Zoey nips at Bea’s bottom lip, the shorter girl gasping against her lips, Zoey’s tongue slipping past them.

Time ticks past, the mass of people surrounding them lost in a haze, heat the only thing discernible. The break apart after a short moment, unconsciously swaying to the music together, getting caught up in the rhythm, sucked into the thudding bass.

“We should probably head back to campus,” Zoey murmurs after another song fades out.

Bea’s head lolls to the taller girl’s shoulder, a groan spilling from her throat, “Mm, do we have to?”

A familiar chuckle explodes from Zoey’s chest, “Yeah, maybe you’ll find a four-leaf clover along the way. Get even luckier.”

Bea pulls back, her eyes eager as they meet Zoey’s and the remaining laughter in them. “Okay, let’s go!” she grabs Zoey’s hand on her hip, tugging her through the crowd and out the door, pulling her along this time. Her laughter rings behind Bea as she barrels down the street, New York’s lights illuminating her way.

[og-doubletrouble-kinnie]

Marx Mem

Aighty this is long and it gets a bit dark I guess? Idk its a panic attack mem so.. Warned ig

After a really bad day at the news station (Katie and other various bosses being total fucking dicks. Writing 3 whole news reports in a single day AND Having to take care of food stuffs for the day cause our intern fucking d ied or something) I stumbled home fucking exhausted.

Pretty much the moment I get inside my apartment bastard speaks up "I can't believe you're tired. You barely did anything today."

I tilt my head back and forth and in a mocking tone I talk back "oh sure writing three full length news stories in a single day while making sure the staff is fed and keeping Katie off my damn back is nothing. Su r e"

I pull my gloves off, untie my bowtie and pull off my jacket as I head to the bathroom. Just wanna shower and pass the fuck out, I don't care that it's like 5pm, I deserve a damn nap. I realize I'm far to exausted to stay awake for an entire shower so I just opt for cleaning my face and hoping I dont just conk out on my bathroom floor.

I stand infront of the sink and just space out staring at the faucet for at least a minute. When I snap back to reality I look to my mirror- Surprised to see my actual reflection for a moment before bastard pops up. "Katie was right you know. You're such a slacker~ And you don't write nearly enough stories for her! The head anchor. Sure Tom is nicer to you but he shouldn't be doing the most talking! Keep the camera on Katie, Marx!! You're a man of taste, you know that everyone just tunes in for Katies chest- Hell thats why you tune in. 'Course you already know everything she's gonna say. Unless she throws your script away, like she really should every time cause you write utter filth. I'm surprised she even tries to read the mess you give her each day."

I honestly just stare tiredly into the mirror as he goes on and on, nodding occasionally cause I'm tired enough to believe him. His words blur out at this point and I manage to splash my face with water before tiredly making the stupidest comment I could possibly make while bastard is really active, "God I wish Angel and Bee were here-"

And bastard laughs at me. "Now why could you possibly want that???"

"Oh I dunno maybe it's cause I'm exhausted and curling up with my hoard seems really fucking nice, you pathetic piece of shit."

"Ah yeah I'm the 'piece of shit' have ya seen yourself lately?"

"Oh I'd love to but you seem to always take my reflections place."

"Oh wow Marxy has a bite now, huh?"

I glare into the mirror "Don't call me that."

"Why? Cause your precious little Angel gave it to ya? C'mon Marxy lighten up, it's not like I'm real."

I roll my eyes. Again with the "not real" thing, huh? Okay yeah sure. "Yeah, them being here would be great... I'd love to ignore you for the night." I turn from the mirror, ready to go sleep but-

He seems to not like when I want to ignore him... Cause- well thats when he brings out the big guns "What makes you think they want to be here?"

I freeze... He usually doesn't get to me like this... But ya know- I'm exhausted.. And hearing that one sentence makes my mind swarm with all the things Angel and Bee could be saying about me- about how much they could hate me... I can't shake it away with logic cause it practically doesnt exist in this moment. I turn back to the mirror. "I- I don't-"

"Exactly. There's no reason for either of them to want to be around you."

"Y- yeah-" I nod slowly and lean against the wall, glancing at the mirror for a moment before looking to the floor.

"I mean, just look at you! You're pathetic!"

I listen and look back to the mirror, my reflection is back. My eye bags are huge, my hairs a mess (more so than usual), he's right. I look pathetic... Of course I do. I always do... I slide down the wall, mostly due to my legs being to tired to hold me up, but also cause it's where I belong. The floor is the proper home for someone who looks like such trash.

"Do you really think they care about you? Oh sure Angel's stopped taking blood but who's to say thats his choice? He probably stopped cause Charlies buckling down on his drug problems~ If thats the case, then why would he bother to still have sex with you? Maybe you've somehow convinced him you're the only one he should be with? How cruel... Why should you hold him back? Why even bother talking to him when you're so controlling and possessive??"

I bring my knees closer to my chest, instinctively curling up to try and block him out. I try to mumble a stop but only manage a small squeak. I feel my claws digging into my arms but dont do anything to stop it.

"Oh and Dont even get me started on Bee! You're clearly manipulating him too! Why else would he call you "boss"? Why else would he do nearly anything you ask of him? Oh sure he could easily take you down if he found a problem with you, but what if you're all he has? He puts up with your constant abuse because he thinks he can't get anyone else? Do you really think he wants to put up with you? That either of them do?"

I shake my head. I dont know if I'm answering him if trying to refuse it.

"Just look at what happened with Baxter. How long until you somehow corrupt them aswell?"

"B-"

"Pfft- Surely you didnt think Baxters actions were his own?? My my, Marx I knew you were stupid but I didnt realize it was that bad. You obviously made Baxter feel inferior, even you knew that. But you never dealt with it. You let it fester and grow. I bet you just loved watching Baxter hate himself all because of you? Don't try to deny me, Marxy. I know it all, its so incredibly obvious I'm surprised nobodies figured it out yet... Then again, if you cant even figure this out about yourself, then maybe your friends have the intelligence of rocks!"

Now I feel a few tears run down my cheeks and go to wipe them- But.. Well I suppose I've broken skin on my arms cause I just smear blood on my face.

"Oh nice job you fucking idiot. What are people gonna say when they see those scars? They'll think you're some kind of edgy teenager. Then again- you might aswell be. Constantly wanting the attention of others."

I shake my head harder, hands moving from my arms to my head "n-no... It- it was an accident-"

"Awe... But that doesn't matter Marx! The point is that you did it in the first place!"

I whimper and shake- pulling my hair hard enough that I feel I should be pulling out hairs.

I hear the faintest door in the distance- due to how muffled it sounds I assume it's a neighbors door...

Bastard.. Thankfully quiets down for a moment- I manage to move my hands back to my arms- I can't loosen their grip... But scraped up arms are easier to deal with than a scraped up head.

Then Angel comes in- "Ma- Oh my god- Bee! Bee I found him-!" Angel crouches down beside me and very carefully grabs my hands, and pulls them from my arms. "Marx wh- What happened?"

I hear bastard laugh from the mirror "You can't tell him. He won't believe you."

"I-"

Bee comes in- Fast. "Boss?!" I assume Angels tone must've scared him- and well. He scares me- I jump, grabbing my arms again and my wings pop up.

Angel grumbles "Damnit- Bee ya scared 'im-"

I scoot away before Angel can try to pry my hands free again-

"Mar-?"

"N-no no- you're- You're not supposed to be here-"

Bee crouches down by Angel, "Boss what're ya talkin 'bout?"

"Oh you're finally pushing them away now?" I glance at the mirror- bastard is just eating this up.

My hands get tighter as my eyes dart back to Angel and Bee. I stare like a deer in headlights- expecting them to.. I dont know- do.. Something...

Angel turns to Bee "Bee see if you can find some bandages- I'll... Try and calm him back down..."

Bee nods, gives me a sad/worried look then gets up and leaves the room. Angel shuffles over to me, and I instinctively push myself farther into the corner.

"Marx I'm not gonna hurt you- it's alright..."

"He's talking to you like youre an animal. He sees you as dangerous. He has every right to. You could attack at any moment."

"Sh- s hut up-"

Angel tilts his head "Wh-?"

"Awe look how cute, he thinks you're talking to him."

"Shut up"

"Mar-" He looks concerned... Possibly scared..

"You're scaring him~ Of course you are... You probably scare him often.."

I shoot up, yelling toward the mirror "I said shUT UP!!!" I hear a loud thud and suddenly my hand hurts- I punched my wall...

Theres a small crash in the kitchen and Bee comes running in, holding a roll of bandages- I look down to Angel- And yeah.. He looks scared- So does Bee- I drop my hand from the wall and back away the few inches I can without stumbling into my bath-

"C-can't... Can't you hear it" I try not to physically cringe at how... Pathetic I sound

I hear bastard laugh, and Bee and Angel exchange a confused look.

"Hear... What, Boss?"

"I- it. The voice. I- I can't- I can't be the only one-" One hand goes back to my hair.

"Oh you sad, sad man..."

Angel gets up and comes over to me- Grabbing the hand in my hair and pulling it down before I can start pulling. "Marxy.... Hun- Are you alright...?" He lowers me onto the side of the tub.

I stare at the floor, squinting slightly "I-... I don't???"

Angel gestures at Bee, he steps over, handing Angel the bandage roll then sitting next to me. He puts a hand on my back, rubbing small circles.

"Let me see your arms, Marxy-"

With the extra exhaustion from the panic attack I just tiredly listen to him, flopping my arms on my lap- my wings vanishing. Angel starts wrapping them up. I feel myself yawn, and I lean on Bee, he moves from rubbing my back to putting his two arms on that side around me. I feel myself starting to doze off- but I'm still jumping awake each time.

When Angel finishes wrapping my arms, he picks me up and heads for the bed. I glare at the bandages, My tired dragon brain doesn't like them... So I bite at them- Or at least I try but Angel baps my nose. "Don't you even try, Mister."

I tiredly whine and grumble, flopping into Angels chest. "B u t.... I dont-"

"I dont care if ya don't like 'em, you need to heal and bitin your bandages aint gonna help."

Angel sets me down on the bed and I pbbthh at him. Him and Bee climb in on either side of me and I yawn again.

"Sounds like ya need to sleep, Boss-"

"Mmrmm..." I roll over and face Bee, "No shit... Katie n the others worked me like a dog t'day..." I shove my face into the Matress

"Don't they overwork you every day?"

"Ye s it was just worse this time"

I feel Bee pat my back a few times, and Angel cuddles up to my side and starts talkin, "Well we wanted to go to the bar- But a nap sounds pretty nice instead..."

Bee hums in agreement- he doesn't lay down though... Just stays sitting next to me and keeps a hand on my back.

There's a few moments of silence, but I eventually pass out.