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kumkaniudaku · 28 days ago

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Amen

Summary: Terry and Patrice learn more about their love through life changing news on New Year’s Eve.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of Death

Inspired By: Ask #1 + Ask #2

MASTERLIST

Grief was a bitch.

A mean, ugly, unwanted bitch that had settled beside Terry as an unwelcomed guest just when he thought that he'd banished it out of his life, never to return. Over two years of joy that he'd fought tooth and nail to maintain came crashing down once grief came strolling into town without warning.

Mike was dead. He knew that. He'd reckoned with it, talked himself through the anniversary of his death once before, sent well-wishes to his aunt every time he could, cried in the shadows, mourned, lashed out, and sat in silence with the knowledge that his little cousin would never come through the door again. Mike wouldn't see another birthday. He wasn't around for the wedding or Christmas. They'd never see another football game together. Mike would never meet Nyla.

That fact came as a sobering realization while Terry watched his only daughter's chest rise and fall as she slept peacefully in her crib for the first time all day. A cold running through her daycare had finally latched on to her fresh immune system, turning his usually jovial baby into a shell of herself. He told his higher-ups that he needed to take the day to care for her in his mother-in-law's stead, but what he really needed was time alone to deal with his uninvited guest.

Leaning over the sturdy walnut railing keeping his little girl safely inside her crib, he watched her with the ghost of a smile on his lips. Mike would've loved her. Terry was sure of it. He'd make his way to Fayetteville at any opportunity and cause havoc, probably irritating Patrice but definitely doting on Nyla in a way that only he could.

Tears that had been fighting to see the world all day pricked Terry's eyes yet again. He almost let them fall but found himself blinking them back once Patrice pushed open the door and poked her head inside.

She smiled despite work wearing her thin and waved with her fingers. "Can I come in, or would that be too much?"

"Of course, you can," he answered, trying to put on a brave face to hide the true turmoil inside.

Seeing her stand there, her bright smile directed at him like he was the sun, moon, and stars, was the first time he'd felt anything other than the weight of regret. He needed her to come into the room.

Tiptoeing, Patrice approached Terry and peered over the crib's railing to look at Nyla. "How was she," she whispered before softly touching her forehead to check for heat. "Doin' any better?"

"A little. I got her to eat and play for a bit before the medicine kicked in. She should be out for the night and good enough to sit with your mom by the ceremony on Monday. But, we'll see."

"Good. Thank you for taking the lead. I know she was happy to have you around." She took a second look at her pride and joy, then focused all her attention on Terry. Worry and sadness had found a home on his brow line as they remained furrowed in thought. She leaned her head on his forearm and looked up at him. "And what about my other baby? How was he today?"

The date wasn't lost on Patrice. She noticed when Terry slowly retreated into himself the week before. She saw him looking at Mike's Instagram when he thought she wasn't paying attention. She heard the conversation with his aunt when he promised to come by and see her the next time he could make it to Baton Rouge, even though she knew that time wasn't coming. Every shift in his demeanor and thousand-yard stare showed that he was reliving a hellish time she couldn't protect him from.

No amount of soothing could pull him out of his rut. But that wouldn't stop her from trying.

Terry continued to stare down at Nyla as he answered. "I'm okay. Not too up, not too down."

"You need anything?" Terry didn't respond with words once he finally tore his eyes away from their daughter to look at Patrice. He only shook his head. "Can I give you a hug at least?"

His first dose of physical affection for the day felt like the wind was gently placed back into his lungs as Patrice pulled him closer by his shoulders. His hands found her waist first, giving the spot a short squeeze before allowing his arms to fully encircle her body.

"I love you. You know that?"

"I know." That was the one thing he was sure of. His heart and mind were splintered into a million pieces, but he knew Patrice was there to help him put each one back in their proper place. His lips found her temple for a lingering kiss as he closed his eyes to ward off the sadness, still trying to take center stage. "I, um…I... didn't have a good day today…" Terry struggled with the words, opening and closing his mouth in hopes that something would come out while Patrice listened to him try to articulate his thoughts. A deep breath and closed eyes helped him settle before he spoke. "I could use some time together. Whatever you have tonight, I'll take it. I know you have to be up early tomorrow, so even an hour is –"

His words were cut short by a simple kiss on his cheek. Patrice pulled back to look at him and flashed a reassuring smile. "Give me a few minutes to get changed, and you have me for however long you need me. I'll stay up late and everything. Dasia will understand if I cancel my hair appointment for tomorrow."

"I don't want you to do that."

"We'll play it by ear," she answered to douse the early flames of a disagreement. "Twenty minutes. You can time me."

Terry nodded in understanding and silently agreed to let Patrice out of his sight when he needed her most. Whether she was gone for 30 seconds or three days, the time away felt slow.

Terry tried and quickly tired of distracting himself in Nyla's nursery before quietly slipping out and taking the trek to wait for Patrice like a lost puppy.

He settled into the plush velvet chair in the corner and sighed with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Closed eyes heightened his sense of hearing, giving him full access to Patrice's singing in the shower.

Mike would've loved the Patrice he heard so much about. He'd call her 'big sis' and annoy her the way little brothers do. They'd argue endlessly but still find time for secret handshakes and inside jokes. He'd finally have someone on his side to pester Terry and receive sound advice from when the going got tough. They may have taken him in as their overgrown first child. They could've worked together to get him on the right path and save his life.

Unfortunately, Terry would never know. The not knowing left the door wide open for sadness to creep back in.

He breathed deep and tried to will grief away with Patrice's voice as a lullaby in the background. And for a moment, it complied. The dark, heavy cloud slipped off his back and down to his feet with every exhale, lightening the weight on his arms and shoulders until he felt close to a Terry who was safe, sound, and far from the troubles of his past.

Mike would want that. He'd like to know what Terry had going on as the last person expected to settle down into a family man. He'd probably poke fun at his older cousin for attending birthing classes and fawning over ruffled outfits in Target when what he knew of Terry was brooding, reserved, and quietly menacing. Mike had seen his cousin kick up dust with the worst of them. Seeing Terry as a man who wouldn't so much as cough too loud if his wife or daughter was around would be a sight.

As grief slowly packed its things and headed for the door, his comfort emerged from the steaming bathroom, looking like a lighthouse in a raging storm.

Patrice's humming paused once she noticed Terry sitting in the corner. "Missed me," she teased, drawing a small, dry chuckle from her husband as she made her way to their dresser. "You could've joined if you wanted."

"That's alright. I know you need your time to decompress.” He gestured toward the garment in her hand. “Need help with that?"

She could've put her clothes on with no assistance, but Patrice knew that Terry wouldn't have asked if he didn't need the distraction. She granted his covert request for her attention by quickly plucking matching pieces from her sleepwear drawer and placing them in his outstretched hands.

They spent time in comfortable silence while he slid soft cotton up her legs and then helped her into her shirt, kissing random spots of exposed skin along the way. "I didn't ask about your day. I'm sorry. I got a lot of…other stuff on my mind. How was work?"

"It was work. Nothing too important. Glad it's the weekend. Two more days, and I get to see my first graduating class of freshmen that I taught. Isn't that crazy? I'm getting old, huh?" She laughed by herself.

Terry avoided eye contact despite his faint smile, preferring to tie the drawstring at her waist in a neat bow like she preferred. "Never old. Only better."

"You're too sweet." Patrice cuddled him close when he was done and rubbed a spot at the nape of his neck to soothe him into closing tired, heavy lids. "I know it's tough, but I promise you'll be okay, babe. The sadness isn't gonna go away, but you'll learn to live with it. You'll learn to make space for all those feelings inside you at once. And I'll be here when you need someone else to hold some of them, too."

Terry sighed. "I'm not tryin' to be a burden for you, P. We have enough going on as is."

"You're not a burden, Terry; you're my husband – my friend."

To be accepted with all of the muddy waters traversing his mind and heart felt like too much to ask for in Terry's mind, especially from someone who'd spent so much time wading through all his bullshit without complaint. He owed her his life, the full weight of his love, until the day God deemed their time together but a beautiful memory forever etched in boxed trinkets and old photos.

He wanted to give her the moon as she stood stroking his pain away with her fingertips but settled for kissing his way up her sternum on the way to her lips.

One day, when other emotions had dwindled, and he was feeling more like himself, Terry would lay his head on Patrice's lap and tell her about the atrocities that had shaped the time before they reacquainted. That day wasn't today, and all he could think of was pouring his gratitude for her graciousness into making sure she was satisfied in the one area he could control.

Shorts that had only been on her body for mere minutes found a new home on the floor alongside her top. Patrice was weightless in Terry's arms as he carried her to their shared bed, his lips attached to hers for needy kisses that felt more like life rafts to keep him above rough waters than affectionate gestures.

Patrice questioning if he was sure about his actions fell on deaf ears, and soon, all of her inquiries became lost whispers in a room swirling with the sounds of desperate lovemaking. Terry left his mark on her neck and chest while he worked himself out of his clothes.

His voice came in gravelly against the shell of her ear. "I fuckin' love you, Treece. Don't ever leave me." He was pleading and caught somewhere between raw desire and tremendous despair. "Please, don't ever leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere, baby," Patrice reassured without hesitation.

Terry left soft kisses and big, salty tears on Patrice's cheeks once their foreheads met. "Please. I need you, Patrice." Grief was back and taunting him in his ear with its partner in crime, Doubt. She'll leave, just like everyone else. You don't deserve her. Lies filled his head with no shut-off valve in sight. The tears turned into sobs he couldn't ignore with breathing techniques or a change in his thought process. "I'm sorry. I just need you. I can't do this by myself. Don't leave."

Patrice quickly cast amorous feelings aside to wrap her arms tight around Terry. "Woah, woah, TJ. I'm here! I'm right here."

Grief was a bitch. Even when he threw his best punch at it, grief always hit Terry back with a haymaker that left him staggering and woozy in defeat.

The moments after his heaving, hyperventilating meltdown became a blur of Patrice's soft-spoken instruction, lavender bubble bath, and candlelight. When he came back from a mental trip to Shelby Springs to live out alternate realities, where he emerged victorious with Mike by his side, he found himself nestled between his wife's legs, surrounded by fresh hot water and scented white foam.

Patrice moved behind him, plastic crinkling as she peeled the back off of something he couldn't see before bringing her wet hands around to his face. "These'll help with the puffiness," she declared like an experienced esthetician informing a client. "I used to use this every other day in grad school. Cry all you need. No one will ever know by morning."

A 'thank you' tried to rise from his throat, but Terry quickly found his voice too hoarse to say anything worth a damn. Patrice didn't mind, though. She was content to press another cold patch underneath his eye before grabbing the shampoo rinse cup resting near the baby monitor at the edge of the tub.

Terry closed his eyes as the warm water washed over his short curls, sitting neatly behind a sharp hairline and tapered sides. His hair glistened under flickering lights provided by small flames in glass components. Patrice used her acrylic nails to work magic against his scalp, turning shampoo into a mountain of suds to cleanse the pain.

"I swear every time my Nana and mama scrubbed my head, I felt like a new person after. One time, I was going through the worst friend breakup I've ever had, and by the time Mommy finished with me, I didn't even know that girl's name. Didn't even matter anymore."

"What happens after the scrub, though? You just…go back to normal?"

Patrice chuckled as she ran another stream of water across his head to start on a second lather. "Hell no. That's where the patches come in." Terry allowed himself his first genuine laugh all day, taking a stone out of grief's stronghold. His fingertips ran back and forth over the wet skin on Patrice's legs as he sat with his eyes closed in a battle for his sanity. They let the quiet ripple of water around them fill the humid air in the room, preferring to enjoy the feel of skin on skin over extraneous conversation until Patrice began running conditioner through each of his thick strands. "I love when you wear your hair like this. The haircuts are nice, but when it's grown out, it reminds me of young you."

"Hot-headed, couldn't buckle down enough to work through being mad at not getting scholarships to still go to college me?" Terry scoffed, finding the notion of a younger, far less polished him being someone worth missing.

Patrice shrugged. "I didn't know that Terry," she confessed. The stories of his anger felt like fables to Patrice. The only Terrence Richmond she'd ever known was sweet as homemade banana pudding after Sunday service and a whip-smart boy with the world at his feet. "My Terry and his little fro was always kind. Always noble and lending a helping hand. And now he's got a baby girl in the other room with a head full of her daddy's curls after she looked like Charles Barkley for three months." Terry smiled at the mention of Nyla and how she'd inherited at least one part of him after taking her mother's entire face. Patrice watched him reach for the monitor and bring it closer to his face for a look at his second favorite girl before she continued. "My Terry is who Mike loved. I never met him, but I know he saw the best in you. We all do, baby."

More silence sat heavy as Terry wiped away fresh tears gathering at his waterline. Of course, they'd see the best in him when he couldn't see the best in himself.

Grief came knocking again with Doubt in tow, but Terry ignored them to slide deeper into the water and rest his heavy head on Patrice's chest before speaking. "Mike and me…we used to get in a lot of trouble at my granny's house."

"Yeah? Two badass kids, huh? Tell me about it."

"One time," he started, already smiling at the memory. "We got her beagle, Satchel, sick because we kept feeding him shrimp out of the gumbo. He threw up all over the back porch, and Mike got so scared that he told on us, thinking we wouldn't get the switch if we were honest."

"Did y'all?"

Terry laughed and nodded. "Wore our asses out. I hated that damn dog for the rest of his life. It wasn't his fault, but I was just a kid."

"You knew better, though."

"Whose side are you on right now?" Terry asked, looking up at Patrice with faux offense on his face.

She giggled back. "Okay, my bad!" A final round of water cascaded down Terry's shoulders and back, washing the ugly soot of regret off of his grief to reveal the love making up its inner parts. Patrice kissed his wet hair and held her lips there even as she spoke. "Can you tell me more about Mike? I wanna know him through you."

The invitation erupted a dormant volcano deep within his Terry's heart.

He told stories of his cousin and their time together until the lavender-scented bubbles evaporated into tepid bath water. Until grief felt more like gratitude for memories made. Until Patrice's stomach ached from laughter. Until the clock struck midnight, and tears started to roll again. Until Patrice had wiped his entire face with her delicate fingertips several times over without a single inkling of exasperation or judgement while they lay face to face beneath cold sheets. And until she finally closed her eyes from exhaustion and turned her back for some shut-eye.

Then, he talked to God. A long list of thank you's emerged from his heart. A thank you for keeping him alive, one for time spent with Mike, one for his daughter, and another for the only person keeping him afloat when all he wanted to do was drown.

Terry looked at Patrice and smiled. Light from the television illuminated her face, highlighting her knitted brow and slight frown as she lay in the throes of a dream he could only imagine was vivid enough to evoke such a clear expression of disgust. The thought alone produced a genuine smile.

Clicking the power button, Terry found himself in complete darkness, fighting for the words to finish his prayer. He sighed and looked back toward Heaven. "She's perfect, God. Even when she isn't. If you never give me anything else, thank you for Patrice."

"Hm?"

Patrice's groggy response to her name being called made Terry roll over on his side to calm her back into sleep. "Nothing, baby," he spoke into her shoulder before pressing a kiss on her skin. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, earning a content sigh. "I was just praying for you."

She smiled without opening her eyes. "Well, amen to that."

Tears tickled Terry's waterline, this time filled with overwhelming gratitude. A blessing like no other.

"Yeah. Amen to that."

-----

Reply if you'd like to be tagged in future work!

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @ghostfacekill-monger

#aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge

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moon-buggg · 4 months ago

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Here's my lovely science edutainment bot Sun! I'm not. going to be focusing on this au until after Halloween at least, but I am in love with it

you know the drill more details under the cut!

The Pizzaplex is now a Kids Science Centre! Chock full of fun, interactive, learn-through-play exhibits designed to get kids interested in science! With their main sponsor being Fazco, they have a pretty big emphasis on robotics and computers, though they have a wide range of exhibits to appeal to interests of all kinds of interests

Each main exhibit has its own animatronic mascot, with Freddy being the main mascot of the whole centre. I haven't decided on specifics for the glamrocks just yet-

As for the boys, Moon runs shows in the planetarium while Sun does science experiment demonstrations like elephant tooth paste. Since they're mostly for shows and demonstrations, the boys don't interact with guests nearly as much as the glamrocks do.

Either they both used to run the planetarium (possibly in one body? I haven't decided) until the higher ups decided to replace the humans running the experiment shows with an animatronic, OR it was always like this I'm still deciding because it WILL change how I characterize them

Anyways I have the most info about Sun because he was just going to be an oc before this au was revealed to me in a vision so-

He has a bit of a stutter problem after an ill-advised tesla coil demonstration fried his circuits just a touch. It's not bad enough to be fixed but he is self conscious about it.

He makes his demonstrations into performances! Telling little stories about how he used to work at a zoo and really DID need to make elephant toothpaste while mixing everything together to draw out the big fun expansion of foam, before going into an age appropriate explanation of the chemistry involved. If asked to explain some science thing that isn't part of his scripts, he can struggle with keeping it child-friendly, going into too far much detail. He's just full of information!

the 'glass' part of his glasses are actually screens! Allowing his eyes to move around and emote. the little dots in the corners are the cameras he sees out of.

He's mildly less distressed by mess than his canon counterpart. As long as its part of the show (and doesn't get on HIM), messes are part of the fun! Extremely sensitive to his things being moved, however. It stems from his safety protocol, some of the chemicals he works with are legitimately dangerous, like liquid nitrogen, and so it could be bad news if somethings out of its place!

#dca fandom #dca au #my art #fnaf dca #fnaf sun #eclipse also may or may not make a debut appearance from me in this au. possibly. no promises #if he DID he would be the mascot of the space section and teach kids about planets and astronauts and other weird things that are in space

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wangxianficfinder · 2 months ago

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Secret Relationship / Relationship Reveal

~*~

💖 demons run when a good man goes to war by Miranda_Aurelia (T, 20k, wangxian, LWJ & NHS, JYL/JZX, canon divergence, angst w happy ending, NHS & LWJ friendship, not JGY friendly, dark LWJ, revenge, (presumed) major character death, not LXC friendly)

dirty politics by sarahyyy (G, 2k, WangXian, Modern, Politics, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Love Confessions)

🔒 A heated Livestream. by satans_dolly_boy666 (G, 1k, WangXian, WWX & OCs, JC & WWX, WWX & NHS, Modern, livestream, gamer, Established WangXian, Possessive LWJ, Supportive LXC, Jealous LWJ, Internally screaming WWX, Internet Famous, Sugar Daddy, OK no but still-, College/University, College Student WWX, LWJ is fucking rich, Gossip, Surprises, Surprise Kissing, Secret Relationship, Idiots in Love, Dorks in Love, Showing Off, LWJ is a little shit, Identity Reveal, Relationship Reveal, Gay Panic)

🔒To Make Him a Perfect Bride by Hinu (E, 139k, WangXian, Modern, Feminization, Crossdressing, Marriage Proposal, Romantic Comedy, Meet the Family, Homophobia, Cultural Differences, Discrimination, Wealth kink, Potentially Unhealthy Beauty Standards, Rich LWJ, Power Bottom WWX, Sugar Daddy LWJ, Plot With Porn, Mild Kink, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Coming Out, Implied Canon-Typical Child Abuse, Phone Sex in Public, Sexual Harassment, competent wwx, Financial Domination, Sexual Roleplay, Light BDSM, WWX’s dog phobia, Submissive LWJ, Blood, Smoking, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, WWX’s dissociative panic attacks in later chapters, Gay LWJ, Protective LWJ, Weddings, Wedding Planning, Secret Relationship, Genderqueer WWX, BAMF NHS, Gay WWX, LWJ and WWX Have a Breeding Kink, fem! WWX is A-Jingyi’s and A-Yuan’s sexual awakening, Office Sex, Airplane Sex, Happy Ending, Class Differences, Crazy Rich Asians Fusion)

Flowers Blooming in the Dark by TheLegendOfChel (T, 64k, WangXian, Gods & Goddesses, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, but it's still in a xianxia/wuxia setting, Pining, Mutual Pining, Courtship, Forbidden Love, Hades and Persephone AU, Kidnapping, Kind Of, Smitten LWJ, Smitten WWX, Fluff, Courting Rituals, Secret Relationship, Minor XuanLi, Minor ChengSang, references to wwx's canonical kinks, Child LSZ, Tooth-Rotting Fluff)

Shine Brightly, That I May Glow by TheLegendOfChel (M, 62k, WIP, WangXian, sun/moon au, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, except maybe some bad guys, Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, only wangxian are soulmates though, Secret Relationship, Secret Identity, Mutual Pining, Protective LWJ, BAMF LWJ, Protective WWX, BAMF WWX, Light Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Kidnapping, Minor ChengSang, On Hiatus)

After the Final Rose by azurewaxwing (E, 55k, wangxian, modern, reality show au, secret relationship, fluff & angst, happy ending, bachelor LWJ, cameraman WWX, smut)

Gold Blood Eyes by Loveable_Psychopath (T, 72k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Except the bad people, Dark LWJ, i guess?, Established WangXian, Secret Relationship, Sentient Burial Mounds, Golden Core Reveal, Found Family, LWJ is Whipped, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mental Health Issues, Communication, but also miscommunication, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, YZY Bashing, JFM Bashing)

🔒Step by step by apathyinreverie (T, 12k, WangXian, JFM and YZY Bashing, not particularly Jiang family friendly, Guilt, Fluff, past angst, Flashbacks, Protective LWJ, Soft WWX, adorable a-yuan, Friendship, Family, Getting Together, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, basically organ donation as the modern day equivalent of the core transfer, and wwx not having entirely recovered, Modern AU, Domestic WangXian, Domestic Fluff) - which isn't tagged as such but I believe qualifies.

~*~

#Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #wangxian #MDZS #wangxianficfinder compilation post #long post #secret relationship comp #relationship reveal comp

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blackynsupremacy · 3 months ago

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THERE’S SOMETHING

ABOUT YOU.

CHAPTER 3

pairing: smallville!clark kent x blackfem!oc

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

guest starring: aaliyah haughton as lyric james

also starring:

sam jones iii as pete ross

allison mack as chloe sullivan

kristin kreuk as lana lang

summary: ever since lana lang has moved in with the sullivan’s, clark kent’s nightly telescopic views of the galaxy and daily glimpse of the sunrise tend to get lonelier. that is until a moving truck, a wandering amicable feline, and her frustrated owner, lyric james, makes her debut in his life as her family are the new owners of the old potter house next door. things between the new neighbors start to shift as clark is tasked as her personal tour guide at her new school. one little slip is all it takes for her to learn he’s more than meets the eye in this small town.

contains: lots of words, neigbord to friends, use of gifs and photos for visuals, tooth rotting fluff, a bit of angst/arguing, lyric and clark getting closer, mild swearing, cute moments, slow burn, main audience is black readers but everyone is welcome. lyric’s thoughts, clark’s thoughts.

taglist: @rosiestalez @camiesully @paisholotus @ellethespaceunicorn @afrowrites @afrogirl3005 @tryingtograspctrl @zombigrlll @simply-the-best23 @jkr820 @gxuxhdjdu @sabrinasopposite @elitesanjisimp

please read: CHAPTER 2

lyric’s heavy eyes open as soon as her ears hear the siren sound of her alarm clock. darkness envelopes the room. her vision shifts to the alarm clock that reads five am on the dot. her hand slowly reaches to press the button that ceases the alarm. she’s early for once. so early that the sun hasn’t come up yet. wait—the sunrise. even though she’s half asleep and her thoughts are hazy, it all comes back to her memory: her family ate dinner with the kents last night, she also remembers clark, his loft, the telescope, and his invitation to watch the sunrise before school. her deep, brown pupils try to adjust by glancing at various objects in the room like her vanity, her closet, her various posters of her favorite musicians, and noir who’s four paws down on lyric’s chest, her pink button nose a mere centimeter from her owner’s.

“g’mornin’, baby girl. how’d you sleep, hm? you hungry?” lyric coos to her with a raspy voice as her fingertips caress the black strands of noir’s fuzzy head. the feline mewls in response and jumps down from the bed making a soft thud as all four paws strike a perfect landing on the hardwood floor. noir gazes at lyric in expectancy, her signature move of swaying her tail on the floor indicating that she was indeed hungry.

“okay, okay. i’ll get you breakfast, but i gotta be quick.” lyric complies and she sits upright to turn and remove her comforter. as soon as her feet connect to the floor, she makes her bed and trudges out of her bedroom to make her way to the kitchen downstairs, noir traveling not too far behind her. when she reaches her destination, she spots both of her parents continuing their normal routines in a comfortable silence. crystal was preparing breakfast and joseph was reading the news as he munched on a red apple from the table fruit bowl.

“good morning, y’all!” lyric cheerfully greets her parents. a hug and a kiss on the forehead for her father. a hug and a kiss on the cheek for her mother. they were both shocked to see their daughter up so early, but they enjoyed her enthusiasm nonetheless.

“good morning, honey!”

“good morning, sweetheart.”

they respond still continuing their tasks.

“you’re up real early. i guess that means you’re ready for your first day at school?” joseph inquires as he watches lyric grab noir’s usual cat food and purple monogrammed food bowl from the cabinets before she squats down to pour out an appropriate amount, in which noir immediately indulges in. everyone, but lyric notices the wide, dimpled grin spread across her face before she answers,

“uh, yeah! i think i am. it’s a fresh start and no one knows me like that, so—i’ma make the best of it!”

“hmm! first, you’re up at five. now, the cheerful mood. i haven’t seen you this excited and confident to go to school if it’s not the last day of it before summer, lyric. not to mention that sunshiny smile! this wouldn’t have to do anything with a certain boy next door would it?” crystal teasingly jests, her own dimples appear to match her daughter’s expression.

“no, mama! it’s not like that. clark is sweet and all, but i just met him. we ain’t even friends like that yet, but i do appreciate him for by showing me the ropes on my first day. i can’t stay too long because we gotta meet before the bus comes!” she responds to fetch herself a bowl and spoon to pair them with frosted flakes and milk to quickly refuel her energy for the day. crystal feigned a surrender as she raised her hands.

“okay, baby! i’m just saying it sounded like you and clark had a nice time up in that barn after dinner when your father and i left the kents. neither of us didn’t want to disturb you two and we were glad that y’all were getting along, so martha and jonathan said it was fine for you to stay in there for a couple more minutes before clark walked you back home.”

lyric pauses her eating and she feels her face burn up at the realization of why her parents went off without her after the kents graciously invited the james family to have sunday dinner last night.

“ma! ya’ll heard us and ya’ll left me!?” lyric fake gasps and pretended to be hurt, a chuckle leaving her mouth.

“we’re sorry, baby girl. we just haven’t seen you so happy ever since—“ joseph added before lyric finished his sentence.

“omar?” lyric’s tone shifted from bright and jovial to monotonous and cold. there was now an uncomfortable beat of silence between the james’ family, crystal sending a glare to her husband before softening her brown eyes on her daughter. lyric broke it by clearing her throat.

“baby girl, i’m sorry—“

“it’s okay, dad. really. i—uh, i’ma go get ready. i can’t make us all be late, right?”

lyric awkwardly stood from her chair to wash the dishes she used before giving her parents an affectionate hug and goodbye, hurrying up to her bedroom to get the day started.

lyric sits on the stool at her vanity mirror dressed in a beige top with a sleeveless brown vest and matching cargo pants. around her neck she wears a silver military dog tag pendant and around her right wrist, lays a silver bracelet and the other, her black wrist watch. after the routine of adjusting her onyx tresses and enhancing her natural features with light makeup, she puts on her signature hoops to finish off the look. her fingertips leave a lingering touch when the needle pushes through the clasp. her chest gets heavy at the mention of omar’s name a few moments ago.

why the hell did he have to bring him up? wasn’t the reason us being here not to talk to about him? i can’t really be mad—i guess this change has cheered me up to some degree.

the comforting touch of noir’s paw tapping on the back of lyric’s leg awakens the girl out of her head and she gathers the furry bundle of mischief into her arms, pecking her head and stroking down her back. lyric simpers as the cat purrs at the touch and nuzzles her head under lyric’s chin in approval.

“you’re ‘bout to be on your own for a few hours. you better behave. don’t you do anything fast while i’m gone, you hear me, girl?” she playfully reprimanded and squats to release noir from her embrace. noir lets out a meow in response. lyric takes the sound as a yes, but knowing this feline, no promises are set in stone. her eyes peer down at the watch to read it’s a quarter till six. it was still dark, but she knew it would be a matter of time before the sun rose and she didn’t want to let clark down. with her black satchel carrying her camera and new lavender backpack with the required academic supplies, she headed down the stairs to see that her parents were about to depart to their workplaces. joseph places a house key in lyric’s palm, urging her to be responsible for it. the family exchanges the encouraging words of “have a great day and be safe. i love you.”, before they all go their separate ways.

lyric takes her walk to the kent house. the familiar path she’s treaded on a few times feels like the long bustling, sidewalks of her home, but there was no bustling. no horns honking. no people rudely bumping into your shoulder and getting mad at you because they weren’t looking where they going even though their head was down. it was only the quiet sounds of birds chirping and the creaking of the wooden stairs under lyric’s feet as she approached the front door of the kent household. her knuckles reach to knock on the door and she waits not ten seconds later to see the pleasant face of mrs. martha kent. the ladies greet each other with beaming smiles.

“good morning, lyric! how’re you this morning? please come in! why don’t you look pretty. i assume you’re ready for your first day at smallville high?” the older, auburn woman inquires as she steps aside to let the young girl enter her home.

“good morning and thank you, mrs. kent! i won’t front, i’m a bit nervous, but i’m excited for a fresh start! clark asked me if we could meet before the bus came to watch the sunrise. is he around? i hope i’m not too late. i don’t usually get up this early.” lyric chuckles as she clutches the strap of her bag and hikes it up onto her shoulder.

“oh, no, sweetie, you’re right on time! he’s over at the barn now waiting for you. before you go, how’s that cat of yours?” they both snicker, knowing about noir’s quirks. lyric assures that martha of noir’s wellbeing before she bids martha a goodbye and exits from where she came in. the girl roams the path to the barn not without spotting clark’s father, jonathan, up and tending to the livestock. she calls out for the man and waves to greet him a good morning which he positively reciprocates. after the friendly exchange, she’s already entering through the barn door. her feet taking her to ascend the wooden staircase before she calls out for the farm boy,

“yo, clark! are you in here?”

lyric reaches the top and goes around the corner to spot him near the open window, leaning forward on the sill with his bended elbows. clark’s head turns at the sound of her voice and instantly smiles at her timely arrival.

“good morning, lyric!”

lyric returns his greeting with her own grin before sauntering her way closer to take her position beside him at the window. her feet shuffles to give each of them space.

“good morning, clark. i hope i’m not too late.” she responds as she notices the sky about to change colors.

“nonsense! you’re just in time for it to start. you got your camera?”

“got it right here!” clark watched the girl as her hands ventured into the black satchel that she routinely held to reveal a black canon digital camera.

the teens both leaned on the sill. their eyes catching the horizon as the sun slowly, but surely ascends to take its place in the sky reflecting an iridescent, golden light mingling with the fading blue of the once midnight sky. each star disappeared with one ultraviolet ray at a time. with an awestruck countenance, lyric held the camera up to her right eye, adjusting the focus settings to capture every major and minor detail of this moment. lyric generally thought sunrises were beautiful from afar and went along her way, but seeing this up close? it was a treasure. this was something that was given to humans everyday, free of charge and she just couldn’t believe that she could take this for granted. one from her city couldn’t really enjoy the sunrise due to the hectic nature of getting on the train or due to the blockage of buildings that reach the clouds. lyric’s index finger pressed down on the button several times. she beamed when that metallic click reached her eardrums, a sound of her passion, her livelihood, and her emotions. clark’s blue eyes pulled away from the sunrise momentarily to gaze down at lyric because he could already hear the sound of heart thumping at a rapid pace that almost had him concerned for wellbeing, but that fear dissipated as he simply watched her work the camera at the desired angles. he marveled at the beautiful golden light reflecting off the melanated skin of her face and arms. the indention of her dimples protrude as the top row of her pearly whites rest atop her glossed bottom lip. he noticed the tiny sway of her dark hair dance with the small breeze of the morning wind. clark was impressed at her focus and drive to get a good shot of the sunrise. he realized that for lyric this wasn’t just hobby or a past time. it was her art form. her element. clark was so stuck in his trance of staring that even lyric noticed his pupils of blue scoping down at her figure. she halted her movements immediately and slowly let the camera down to her torso. embarrassed, she cleared her throat and stifled a giggle. lyric had an idea to break the silence and break the barriers of her craft.

“hey, clark—earth to clark!”

her voice knocked him out of his trance, his head shaking a bit with rose tinted cheeks of embarrassment for making his neighbor feel awkward. the farm boy cleared his own throat before stammering himself.

“uh—oh. um, sorry, lyric. were you saying something? i didn’t mean to stare for so long, it’s just the way you took a picture of that sunrise. you looked like you were in another world for a second. you seem to love photography, huh?” he questioned, shifting his posture and placing his hands within his pockets.

“it’s all good, clark. by the way you were watching, it looks like i wasn’t the only one in my own world.” the teens pause to chortle at her wit. lyric inwardly smirked as she picked up on that his cheeks flushed a shade of rose and a hint of nervousness in his laughter before she resumed the conversation and gazed at the memory holding device within her hands.

“yeah, i do, but it’s just a hobby. i just like to take photos of different places and things that give inspiration. to be real with you, i haven’t really taken pictures like this since my fr—uh, my family moved. i guess i owe you one for the spot. thank you!” clark received her dimpled grin of gratitude in which he returned with a lopsided smile of his own. he also couldn’t help, but have a gut feeling about her tone mentioning the move of her family from new york. it was filled with a twinge of hesitancy and—sadness? regret? being the empathetic guy that he was, he wanted to check to see if he said anything wrong. the “protecting the privacy” part of him wanted to respect that boundary, so that this connection wouldn’t be ruined.

“it’s no problem, lyric. what are good neighbors for? are you ready to head out to the bus stop? i don’t want to be the reason you miss your first day.” clark geared up for another school day by gathering his signature red backpack that toted the academic essentials.

“yeah! let’s go.” she replied, but then an idea came alive in her brain and she called out for his name, he responds by turning to face her and raises a brow to signal “yes?”. he didn’t want to rush her, but he didn’t want the two to get in trouble by making both of them late, not on her first day of all.

“do me a favor. put your bag down, stand near that wall, lean your back on it, and look at me. don’t move! i just wanna try something. i swear we won’t be late!” lyric pleads and sighs in relief when he does as he’s told and holds the pose before averting his gaze to lyric whose focusing her camera on his tall frame. within three seconds, he hears the familiar metallic clicking sound and once lyric gives him the green light, he returns to his original position and takes his belongings, she beckons him to her with a quick wave of her hand and a look of anticipation on her face.

“i’ve never really done a shot of another person like this, but the lighting was just perfect and i—well, just take a look for yourself, clark. what you think?”

lyric questioned, leaning the device close enough to clark for him to see the small screen that beheld the photo of him. he was thoroughly impressed by the shot! lyric wasn’t kidding when she said the lighting was right. the vibrant colors of the dark blue jacket mixed with his red plaid flannel against the tawny brown walls of the barn exuded that all american charm he possessed within himself. one could tell he worked on a farm as he noticed his skin looked slightly sun kissed. his onyx hair looked shinier and the shadow that casted on his face helped to sharpen his facial features such as the bridge of his nose and jawline. it was almost like something out of an issue of teen vogue.

“oh my god, lyric! you’ve really outdone yourself. i’m not normally a guy for photos, but this looks professional! thanks!” he beamed as his eyes couldn’t tear away from the photo.

“it’s no biggie. i just wanted to do something different. get out of my comfort zone type of thing.”

“lyric, you don’t understand. you could do local shots for people if you wanted. i’d think you’d go far with this if you think on it and do some more!”

“you think so?” lyric asks, tilting her head up for her eyes to meet his.

“i know so—i guess you could say i sparked the inspiration.” clark quips with that contagious charming smile of his that sort of makes lyric’s stomach tumble. she nervously laughs ands taps his arm with the back of her hand.

“yeah, yeah! when’d you get so humble? we better bounce before you make me late.” lyric walks towards the staircase with clark following behind. they rush to bid goodbye to his parents one last time before clark leads her to the bus stop. they wait in a comfortable silence for about five minutes before the long, yellow vehicle arrives in front of them. lyric’s stomach does a turn at hearing the whoosh of the long doors opening, awaiting their boarding. clark gives her a reassuring once over, indicating for her to follow his lead before his feet steps on to board and lyric follows as they make their way down the aisle. lyric felt a bit uneasy as she could tell a few eyes were on her as they walked to the empty seat that clark found across from an african american boy that smiled and greeted him. clark sat himself near the window, allowing lyric to sit on the outside to face the same boy across from them.

“hey! what’s up, clark—oh, and who is this?” his brown eyes glinted with delight as they laid on the new girl that was seated besides his best friend. smacking his teeth, clark playfully rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics.

“come on, pete! don’t scare her off. this is—“

lyric caught clark by surprise as she eased the awkwardness by giggling and introducing herself.

“it’s all good! he’s just trying to be friendly. my name’s lyric. lyric james, i’m clark’s new neighbor. my family and i moved from new york to smallville like, three days ago. i live next door, actually. it’s nice to meet you.” she amicably said and held out her hand for the boy which he eagerly took to shake.

“that’s cool! a new girl next door, huh? welcome to smallville. the name’s pete. pete ross. i’m clark’s best friend. i hope this means you’ll be sticking with us on your first day? hopefully a lot more than that.” pete responds, flashing a pearly white smile to work that ross charisma.

“easy, now but yeah! if it’s not too much trouble. so ya’ll have been tight for minute, right?” lyric chuckles and leans back against the seat before shifting her gaze between the boys.

“mm-hm. when i was little, i was getting pushed around by some jerk, but here comes clark kent, coming to my rescue. let me tell you, he pushed that kid so hard into the door, it literally broke into pieces! ever since then, he’s been my boy.” pete raves before reaching over to send a bashful clark a fist bump of gratitude.

“hey, i was just doing what i had to do to help someone who needed it. i think everyone deserves to be saved.” clark modestly chimed in.

lyric was amazed. that’s the second testimony she’s heard of clark’s courage to step in and save others. it kind of intrigued her how a small kid could push another so hard a whole door could break, but she brushed the thought away as three of them continued to chat throughout the ride to school. she’s learned that pete’s family was very well to do and a respected group of lawyers. his mother was even the judge! lyric found it to be a relief to have another acquaintance besides clark be someone of her culture because when it comes to small towns, there could be a lack of diversity sometimes. their conversation is cut short when the bus pulls in front of the tall, beige school building with the words SMALLVILLE HIGH SCHOOL imprinted on the top. a large, red banner is displayed above the front door, showcasing the crow as the mascot and encouraging the student body to “FLY TO VICTORY!” in golden letters. one by one, the students stood up to walk in a single file line to depart from the bus and make their way through the entrance.

after stopping by the front office to retrieve her class schedule, clark and pete take lyric on a brief tour through the school. they give an overview of the larger common areas such as the cafeteria, library, gym, and the auditorium in addition to the hallways where her different classes would be. lyric made sure for her brain to download every detail of each location the best she knew how. for her peace of mind, she shared one class with clark and another with pete. the trio make a quick stop at another room. it was spacious with technology such as computers and copy machines. a sign in bold red lettering read, “SMALLVILLE HIGH TORCH” along with a myriad of photos on the wall. lyric spotted a caucasian girl with a medium blonde bob that looked preoccupied typing away at the desktop computer. she assumed the girl was in charge of this room they were in. given she was the only one in there before they showed up.

“hey, chloe!” clark called out causing the girl to stop immediately what she was doing. she picked up what seemed to be a newspaper, her nose was deep in it as she followed the sound of clark’s voice, but didn’t notice that she was standing in front of lyric.

“hey, clark! look, i really need all hands on deck on this next story. do you think you could—“ chloe halted as her green eyes met lyric’s brown. her cheeks flushed with scarlet, embarrassed that she was in fact, not talking (directly) to clark. the girl shook her head at own mistake, chuckling before making a formal introduction.

“i am sooo sorry! you’ve probably already heard, but my name is chloe. chloe sullivan and you are?”

the girls reach out for each others hands to shake.

“i’m lyric james. i’m clark’s new neighbor. it’s nice to meet you, chloe! i dig the set up around here. what is this place?” lyric questions, her brown eyes perusing the room before landing on chloe’s enthusiastic face.

“well, first, i’d like to welcome you to smallville high and second, this is the torch! it’s basically like the school newspaper outlet. we put out things like current events and upcoming events, but this is all to get me ready to be a real journalist. one day you’ll see me out in metropolis working on the biggest headlines for the daily planet.” chloe spoke with an air of wit and confidence.

“you wanna see something, lyric? come and follow me.”

lyric looked to clark and pete after she saw chloe go farther back to another room. their faces shown to her that they already knew what the deal was before they all led her to the destination. it was a wall that was plastered with what seemed to be several newspaper clippings all pasted one on top and beside each other like a scrapbook. chloe stood beside the three and triumphantly gazed at it like a proud parent.

“i present to you my wall of weird. if you don’t know, there’s still remnants of the green meteor rocks from the fall of ‘89 and those rocks have certain—side effects on different people that give them these abilities that are literally out of this world. this wall contains every headline of incidents that those people were involved in ever since the shower. it’s amazing, really.” chloe walked up in front, her arms wide open presenting the evidence as it were a museum exhibit.

“you mean like superpowers?” lyric inquired, her arched brows raising in surprise. she couldn’t see behind her that clark was tensing at the mention of these bizarre incidents that occurred in their town. incidents that he and his friends were involved in to resolve on so many occasions. incidents that had him and some of the people he loved hurt and almost killed. he cut his eyes to chloe, warning her to shut it down, so lyric wouldn’t be freaked out considering she just moved here seventy two hours ago. chloe got the signal and cleared her throat before stammering,

“y-yeah—i know it’s a lot of heavy information about a place you just moved to. i’m gonna stop talking about it. you don’t probably don’t want to be late for—“

and just like that chloe was literally saved by the bell.

“class…say, how about we catch up later at lunch, you guys? again, it was great meeting you, lyric! i hope to see you more often.” chloe hastily says before rushing to gather her tote bag with her books and venture into the hallway, disappearing into the crowd of students. lyric was getting curious about the wall of weird.

how in the hell does one meteor shower change the course of these small town people that…drastically? it all may sound cool in a comic or a movie, but this was real life with real people who had real powers!

lyric’s eyes stared at the wall of photos, itching to find out who these people were, what abilities they had, and how they lived. her trance was broken when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. she turned around to still see pete and clark waiting for her.

“oh—my bad. did ya’ll say something?” she hated when she was caught zoning out. she awkwardly blinked as she twiddled her fingers.

“it’s no problem, lyric, but we’d be better get to english before we get a tardy. i’ll walk you there!” clark urges, giving her a once over to the door.

lyric gives a nod and one last lingering glance at the wall before the three of them exit the torch to walk to their respective classes in a timely manner. lyric and clark survived the fifty minutes of reading and analyzing a chapter of alexander dumas’ the count of monte cristo, a literary classic of getting your lick back. the perfect revenge. fortunately, they just started on the novel, so lyric didn’t have to play catch up. as lyric and clark walked in the hall between class periods, they talked about how fascinating it was with how the main character could be so influential, giving, trusting, and fair, but still had the people closest to him praying on his downfall. clark’s mind couldn’t help to wander that the character reminded him of his wealthy, but good friend, lex luthor. lex had the money, power, influence, resources, and compassion when it came to the citizens of smallville especially when it came to undoing the sins of his father, lionel, who at the same time was meticulously plotting in his son’s downfall, a devious ploy after another.

speaking of the citizens of smallville, clark felt time freeze when lana lang approached him. smallville’s local, yet tragic sweetheart. lyric’s eyes immediately caught notice of clark’s attention on the other girl. lyric couldn’t deny that she was gorgeous with her long, brown hair and almond hazel eyes. once she flashed her luminous smile, lyric could obviously see that clark was smitten by her. perhaps that was his girlfriend.

“hey, clark. long time, no see! i’m sorry if i haven’t been over to the loft as often, but things have been so hectic down at the talon. i can’t say i don’t miss those sunrises!” lana chuckles, nibbling on her bottom lip and glancing at the floor briefly her eyes shift to the girl that’s standing next to clark. lana’s brows raise at her presence and before she gets the chance to inquire, clark chimes in.

“hey, lana! no, no. you’re fine. i get that with running a business, you take care of well, business! just know that no matter what, you’re always welcome with open arms.”

clark’s known her ever since childhood. this was his first love. he practically sees her almost everyday, but when she comes around, his stomach ties in knots as does his tongue sometimes, but he keeps it together to keep on a decent conversation. there’s a beat of awkward silence that’s cleared by lana clearing her throat to ask her burning question.

“i’m sorry! i hope i didn’t seem rude. i don’t think i’ve seen you around here before. i’m lana lang. it’s nice to meet you.” she greets and gives lyric a cordial grin. lyric returns the favor in the same tone, her own friendly smile before introducing herself for the umpteenth time for the day.

“it’s no worries. i’m lyric james. i’m clark’s new neighbor. my family just moved here from new york.”

“new york? that’s awesome! i’ve always wanted to travel there one day. well, welcome to smallville. as a token of my welcome, i’d like for you to come over to the talon. it’s this café slash old movie theater that i run in town and your first caffeinated drink of your liking is on the house! i’m there pretty much all the time after school, so just swing by whenever.”

“you run own your business? that’s what up, lana! i’ll take you up on the offer if someone is willing to take me because i haven’t really seen smallville like that yet.” lyric responds and playfully cuts her eyes to clark briefly before resuming her conversation with lana.

“i’d love to come and thank you so much!”

“don’t mention it! now, you said you’re the kents new neighbors, so that means you live right next door, correct?” lana questions, quirking a brow. lyric attempts to answer, but clark takes it for her.

“yeah! i meant to introduce you guys. i guess i got a bit…sidetracked, but yes! lyric’s family actually lives in your old house, lana. it’s amazing how that all worked out.”

clark sheepishly adds to the conversation. okay, clark didn’t exactly tell lana that her old home had new occupants right away. between lana working, clark’s chores, and hanging out with lyric, one could say clark was indeed sidetracked. his stomach had that familiar drop when he saw lana’s face shift from content to confusion, her eyes start to squint as her brows furrow.

“wait—what? i thought when dean sold the house, that it was just off the market? i didn’t think anyone could—i just. you know what? it’s whatever. it’s not like it was really my house financially. nell and dean can do whatever they want. sometimes, i wish they’d give me a heads up on things like this. clark did you know about this? if so, how long?”

“lana, i’ve only known since friday. i was out in the loft the night they moved in. at first, i thought it was nell and dean, but i was wrong and i honestly thought you knew, but i didn’t want to bother with you juggling school and the talon.”

clark explained with as much accuracy as possible. he knew how much lana valued the truth. he knew how much she valued places and objects that connected her to her family. lana closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling. she couldn’t really be frustrated towards clark per say, how could he have seen this coming? the last thing lana needed was another unnecessary rift between her and clark over something that was out of anyone’s hands.

“it’s no issue, clark. i’m sorry for getting so riled up. there was nothing any of us could do. what’s done is done! and lyric, i apologize that you had to see that. i know that didn’t make a great first impression!” lana remorsefully utters, placing a hand on her chest.

“don’t worry, lana. how about we just start over and talk it out later at the talon? i think after today, a cappuccino would do us all some good. i’m sure clark would be willing to lead the way!” the teens all chuckle and nod in agreement of their plans for the evening before lana bids them both a goodbye and disappears in the crowded hallway. lyric’s smile drops, her body turning to make full eye contact with clark and her arms crossed to size him up.

“so you weren’t gonna tell me i moved in the house of your girlfriend? don’t you think that would be a little suspicious? i just got here and the last thing i need is some drama, clark. if there’s something i gotta know, you better tell me right now.” an irked lyric fired at the boy with furrowed brows, but not too loud to not draw attention.

“i’m sorry, lyric, i did mean what i said to lana. she has been busy and that was the last thing i think she needed on her plate. also, i was helping to make sure that you felt at home considering how we first met. you seemed stressed, worried, and this morning i noticed you were a bit sad when you talked about not taking pictures in a while. i won’t pry, but it upsets me when i see people that i know and care about in distress. whether it’d be my parents or my friends. i always feel the need to help even though it sometimes it results in those getting hurt. talk about having the right motives and doing the wrong things.” as each word spilled from clark’s lips, the gears in lyric’s brain began to turn with realization setting in.

he noticed that i was sad? he wants to make me feel at home? he sees me as someone he knows and cares about? he sees me as a friend?

lyric shoulders relax and her arms drop to her side. a strand of dark hair falls in front of her face and her hand sweeps it behind her ear, buying her time to conjure up a response to his plea.

“i—clark. um, thank you for telling me that. look, i’m sorry for pressing you like that. since we’re gonna be honest, i won’t lie when i say that i can see you as someone that i care about too. i didn’t want to pressure you into saying we were instantly friends because i didn’t want to scare you off, you know? we just met, but like i said before, there’s something about you, something good, so i can’t trip because it wasn’t your intention to hurt anybody, but if we’re gonna be friends, let’s both try our best to keep it real with each other, you got it?” her brown eyes gaze up into his blue ones with expectancy.

“i got it, lyric.” they exchange a small smile of understanding and establishment of their official friendship as they move on about their day, fulfilling the next few hours of learning until the ring of the final bell signals the students of smallville high of their dismissal. as lyric walked with her new circle out of the school, it didn’t take long for her personality to instantly click within the group. she hadn’t felt this sense of community and belonging in months. at lunch, chloe was kind enough to let the other three carpool with her to the talon within the next few hours to hang out and study. lyric was down for it, but she had to let at least one of parents know before going out. while waiting for their bus to arrive, clark and lyric stood against the wired fence. he wanted to do a quick check in on her after some of the encounters that she had on her official first day.

“lyric?”

“yeah, clark?”

“what did you think about today? about everything?”

“well, i’ll say that it’s the most interesting first day of school i’ve had since kindergarten.” she responds with a chortle.

“anything in particular that made it interesting?”

“the torch was dope. i really want to learn more about the wall of weird, so there’s really people in this town—this itty bitty town, that had superpowers because of fallen green rocks?”

“welcome to smallville.” he quips with a lopsided smile and shrug of his shoulders.

“damn. well i know i would never fall into that trap of being up on that wall. it sounds like having powers would be so…much. like, it sounds cool, but you can’t play around with that. you know what i’m saying, clark?”

he pauses knowing full well that he understands such a predicament. she’s not exactly wrong, but there’s something else i need to know.

“i know what you’re saying. say, i want to know your opinion—would you think a person with those abilities has the potential to be helpful to others? you know, like a superhero?”

clark’s eyes intently searched her face as she looked to be in thought before answering with the nod of her head.

“oh, yeah! definitely. i wouldn’t personally want that life for me, but for someone else who wants to use it with the intention of making a positive difference, i’d say they go for it! if you’re gonna have any type of power, you’d want it to do some good.”

her enthusiastic tone gave clark a bit of hope and…warmth. the only people who know of his abilities are pete and his parents. they’ve always reassured that clark was great the way he is despite the burden, but he can’t help, but to feel deep down that he was an outcast, a freak of nature. he was an alien for god’s sake and that’s all he knows, but for some odd reason, lyric’s response didn’t make him feel like a freak. more so like a hero, a person. as he saw the bus arrive, he had to clear the air on one more thing while they still had their privacy.

“by the way, lana’s not my girlfriend. she’s just—a really good friend.”

lyric arched a brow in surprise at the boy and a chortle vibrated in her chest.

“oh, for real? by the way you were looking at her in the hallway, i certainly couldn’t tell. clark, it’s so obvious you like her. i don’t blame you she’s sweet, beautiful, intelligent, and independent. i don’t see what’s stopping you.”

“i just don’t want to ruin what we already have. our friendship is very important to me. i’ve basically known her all my life.”

“well, i won’t fight you on that. at the end of the day, it’s your go. now, let’s go before they leave us behind!” she waved him over as they followed their group to the assigned vehicle. after her, clark, and pete boarded the bus, the teens talked, laughed and griped about the day they’ve had. at that moment, lyric knew that smallville would become more bearable due to the aid of her new friends by her side. the bus makes the stop in front of kent farm. clark offered to walk lyric home as she wanted to go and check on noir before they meet up later before chloe arrives. lyric accepts because even though she could walk on her own, she thought it would be awesome to see the look on clark’s face of her token of her appreciation for him helping her out on her first day. they take the brisk walk to her house and clark seems reluctant to step inside her house without knowing if it was okay with her parents.

“are you absolutely sure that i can come in lyric?” clark questioned, a look of uncertainty in his eyes meet lyric’s nonchalant expression.

“don’t trip, kent. you know my parents like you enough. plus, one of them won’t be home until two more hours and this will be quick. have a little faith!” she chuckles and takes out the key joseph entrusted her with, turning the lock, and opening the door. she invites clark into the living room and asks if he needed anything like a snack or drink which he politely declines. his ears perk up at the familiar sound of paws lightly trodding across the floor. simultaneous grins spread across the teens faces when noir enters the room, a soft mewl echoes in the room when her eyes of yellow green lay on her owner and the farm boy that spoiled her days ago. she walks past lyric as if she were a stranger and instantly nuzzles her fuzzy, black body against clark’s leg. he doesn’t hesitate to set his backpack aside and gather her within his arms, a large palm stroking down her spine.

“well, hey, noir! it’s so good to see you, girl.”

lyric’s heart swelled as the room is filled with purrs of contentment, but she can’t help but feel a bit jealous at how quickly her cat of three years switched up for clark, who’s she’s known for three days.

“mmcht, you little traitor.” lyric teasingly sniped, crossing her arms.

“aw, come on, lyric! don’t be like that.”

“don’t be like what, clark? it’s not like i gave her food, shelter, love, and care. a damn shame, my baby girl dissed me.” she replies with a feigned tone of hurt, causing the teens to burst out in laughter.

“i’m glad she’s keeping you company because i need to you sit right there on the couch, clark. i got something for you. i’ll be a minute.” lyric urges before gathering her things and running upstairs to her bedroom. she sets her backpack on her bed and reaches into the black satchel containing the camera. once she takes it out, she steps towards her desk with her computer and takes her seat to power on the device. she swiftly connected her digital camera to her computer, the soft whir indicating it was properly functioning. a cheesy, dimpled smile couldn’t leave her face as the preview screen lit up, revealing the candid shot of clark leaning against the barn wall. the same one she took after the sunrise. the very first close to professional looking photo that she captured of another person. after a messing around with the settings, she moved the cursor to hit the “upload” button. what seemed to be a sixty second transfer felt like an hour before the picture appeared on her screen. lyric double checked to make sure everything was perfect before sending it to print. she made the trip from her bedroom to the home office where the main printer was located and the photo was slowly whirring from it as she walked in. it came out face down until she gingerly took it out and went out into the hallway to stand in front of the staircase. she could hear clark’s melodic chuckles in the distance mixing with the jovial purrs and meows of her cat.

lyric turned the photo around to be face to face with clark. the picture felt almost like a new connection—something precious between new friends. still, she couldn’t help but to stare. there was something about those baby blue eyes, his dark jungle of curls, and that humble charm of his that made her stomach tumble again. she shook her head, chiding herself.

what the hell? why am i acting like i haven’t seen a cute dude before? i see them in magazines and movies all the time, so why i do feel so weird when it comes to clark? he’s great and all, but we still only known each other for three days.

they just established their friendship today, and her thoughts went back to lana lang. the girl who she assumed was already his girlfriend because he shined like the sun by just seeing her smile. the girl he’s known and obviously loved his whole life.

“ugh.” lyric groaned softly, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up her brown cheeks. she glanced one last time at clark’s picture and she shook her head in disbelief.

you can think a boy is cute and still be friends, right? right.

lyric fixed her face and went downstairs to the living room to find clark with a snoozing noir sprawled on her back across his lap, his large hand gently rubbing her belly. his head is down for a moment, but thanks to his heightened hearing, he knew of lyric’s arrival when he heard the creak of the hardwood steps with each movement of her feet.

“we’re glad to have you back.” he genuinely simpered at her presence and spoke at a volume good enough for lyric to hear, but not to wake the sleeping feline. there was that tumble in her stomach again she shook it off, using her wit to mask her nervousness.

“from what i heard upstairs, it sounds like ya’ll didn’t miss me a lick, but this is for you. it’s not much, but it’s a thank you for everything.” she quipped with a grin and walked closer to sit beside him in the couch and handed him the printed copy of his photo from this morning.

“oh, lyric, you didn’t have to—thank you!” he wasn’t sure if she noticed that his fingers slightly brushed against hers as he took the photo. he examined with the same impressed expression that he had early this morning, his pearly white canines exposed.

“it looks even better on paper! no one’s really done something like this for me before. i can say that you’ve outdone yourself, lyric james.” clark commended with his face turning to hers.

“why i appreciate the compliment, clark kent. it was my pleasure.” lyric playfully bowed and the two softly chuckled before their eyes meet again. they absentmindedly stare at each other for a moment. a thread of unspoken words between them with each second passing by. now, she was starting to feel awkward, she cleared her throat to break the silence.

“i really want you to keep that, you know. as a token of my appreciation and a reminder of our friendship.”

“you can count on me to take care of it, lyric. not to sound cocky, but i really like this picture. it’s so good, it deserves a frame. you know, i might i refer to you for my senior photos. better yet, we can be a reporter and photographer duo for the daily planet after graduation—that’s hopefully if you stay.” he paused in the gravity of the statement. “i’m sorry i got too ahead of myself for a minute!” clark who was now red in the face, bashfully chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

why am i already talking about our—i mean the future with her? i need to slow down before i scare her off, but who could deny that would be cool? if she continues with her photography, she can make it as a living!

lyric giggles and places a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“easy, clark. i’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon. that reminds me, i hate to kick you out, but i gotta freshen up and give my parents the 411 before we meet chloe at your place to study at the talon tonight. i’ll be at your place in a good hour, okay?” the girl helps him by gently picking up noir from his lap and cradling her in her arms. clark agrees with understanding and gathers his belongings, the photo still in his hand.

“yeah, of course! don’t forget to bring your copy of the book from english class. i’ll see you later, lyric!”

lyric walks him to the front door and opens it for him to walk out on the porch. she watches him walk down the steps and before he makes his way down the path, he stops to turn around to give her one last smile and wave which she reciprocates. clark watches her shut the door before he resumes his trip back to kent farm. with each step he takes on the way home, he takes a glance at the gift of his new friend and with each glance, his eyes linger longer, his smile wider, and his spirits, higher.

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sundaysconsort · 8 days ago

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Entry : " My Clematis "

Pairing : Oc! Shadow (@aventurineswife) | Oc! Strelitzia (@sundaysconsort)

Information : Two wounded souls finding solace in each other, no matter how short their time may be. Reciting an old tale they once heard. Generally, it's a fic built on tooth rotting fluff. Enjoy.

Tags : Fluff, Mutual Admiration, Quiet Acknowledgment, Found Family?(However you see their dynamic, honestly.), Comfort, OC x OC.

Word Count : 1.1k

A gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers. Several rose-tinted blossoms were in season this time of year. Their delicate petals swayed beautifully in what felt like a gust for life so fragile. The whistle reached the ears of a young lady sitting in the grass, the wind unaware of how its song soothed her who could hear.

Her hair is distinctly beautiful, resembling the very same petals that soar. At peace with her privacy, her eyes close as she basks in the setting sun's embrace. Leaning back, she'd feel her head meet with freshly cut grass, its smell lulling her in deeper; both arms spread on either side of her body.

crunch

"-?"

The woman's eyes would flutter open at the sound of crushed leaves beneath the visitor's boot. Her two feathered wings flinch, alerted by the sudden appearance of life besides her own, only for her gaze to be met with the familiar blue stare she'd grown fond of.

Shadow.

Her lips part, only to share silence. Smiling fondly towards the woman, Shadow took this as a silent welcome.

Oh my Clematis Hope that bloomed with darkness nigh Oh my Clematis Stay forever by my side

"You always have enjoyed your own company, surprised I found you... Stella. Almost like you wanted to be found." Her companion spoke, voice rich with warmth. Bringing her companion further comfort, a moment of solace before they must leave for their duties. "May I?"

Met with a quiet nod, the women share their smiles, reflecting off the other as the sun casts its rays onto the moon. Lowering herself to the ground, she'd set her belongings aside. Staring down at the peculiar woman.

"Stella, may I ask something?" Shadow receives another nod from Stella, encouraging her to continue. Watching as Shadow brought her knees towards her chest in a solo embrace, sat by her side. Meanwhile, Stella remains with her body lying on the grass, gazing up at the sky. "Do you believe in God? The Aeons?"

You bloomed from the abyss Climbing walls to reach the sky See the universe shine And the starlight in your eyes

This question seemed to take Stella back, lifting herself up to be equal level next to the taller woman. The eyes dilated, she'd go from staring at the brunette to admiring the view ahead.

"-Once upon a time, mankind had religion and believed in God…" Stella would murmur for the first time, her voice fragile and genuine, somewhat hoarse from its long slumber. Matching Shadow's position, she'd cradle her legs, pressing them in her chest with her chin resting against her knees. "They believed that which could not be solved by human strength, was the Will of God. Believed that the entire universe revolved around the Earth."

For once, the woman spoke with ease. Quoting literature she had read not too long ago, a passage of a planet that lost its belief and ultimately met its end. A tragic tale of a distant land.

"They thought that unreachable place that connected with the sky was… where the gods lived." Shadow would continue off of Stella's voice. Surprised to hear her melody.

It was a rare treasure, to hear the voice of Stella. Soft as a woolen blanket. A delicacy only a select few could savor, every word all the more special.

When the darkness blinds my sight I will find you by your scent If I slumber forevermore Tell me you won’t leave my world

"From the moment humanity left the universe, we all forgot about God." Stella quotes, shifting closer to Shadow, just enough to lean her head against her shoulder. Careful for her wings to not brush against her, unable to hide that innate fear of bringing harm.

Shadow felt herself at ease, leaning her head on top of the pink-haired woman's, both souls distant from reality.

Once more, the breeze soared between the women. A stray blossom caught in Stella's hair, blending in, but not from Shadow's keen eye. Careful to remove it without brushing against the striking orange feathers that shielded Stella's ears.

Without a word, Stella's head wings lose their tension. Folding around her vision, shielding her eyes from the sun that has long set. Resting her eyes, Shadow is left to admire the starry night sky alone, and yet, all she can see is the everlasting sun against her side.

Reaching for Stella's hand, she chose to intertwine their fingers gently. Shadow finds herself pleased with Stella's acceptance of her actions, lending each other a gentle squeeze of reassurance in this often dark reality.

As if to say,

I'm here.

Oh my clematis Hope that bloomed with darkness nigh Oh my Clematis Stay forever by my side

"But if belief in god is human," Shadow whispered, her tone of velvet. Stella couldn't get enough, humming quietly in response. Yet not once would she speak, afraid to interrupt what she knew had yet to come. "If all I can do as a human is to believe…."

Shadow would pause, thinking to herself.

My god.

Stella's eyes open in due time, wings shifting to reveal her gaze to the outside world, expecting Shadow to elaborate further.

My universe.

Catching Shadow in her stare, Stella's lips perk at each end. A subtle smile reaches her expression, and for once, it meets her eyes. Typically left dull, her purple and blue eyes glimmer with a yellow hue.

A reminder of hope, refusing to be forgotten.

Oh my Clematis Withered hopes and darkness nigh Oh my Clematis Can’t you stay here by my side…

Shadow knew her words were highly anticipated, yet not expected of her. Witnessing the often mute Stella rotate her body, her hand untangled itself from Shadow's embrace, much to her disappointment.

"…My dear clematis." Shadow whispers, tone heavy and weak, a voice carried in the wind while her hair swayed in the wind alongside Stella's, a few strands tickling her own cheek.

Each hand of Stella seeks out her companion's skin, careful, and deliberate, they meet with Shadow's bare arms. Tracing her biceps, down towards her hands.

Stella lifts to her knees in front of Shadow, blocking her view of the sky before falling against her suddenly in response, initiating a warm embrace. One she believed Shadow desperately needed after leaving Penacony behind, as well as someone Shadow cared for deeply, a man who she prayed to unite with each night.

Now finding themselves situated on Amphoreus, with little time to cry, Stella took it upon herself to shoulder any burden Shadow was willing to share. Separated from the rest of their companions for an uncertain period of time.

Feeling her body move on its own, Shadow began pulling Stella closer to her chest. Arms tightly woven around her shorter frame. Not realizing she had been holding her breath, she'd soon release a shaken exhale, closing her eyes.

Both have lived terribly cruel lives and yet, that can be forgotten in this moment shared.

No matter how temporary it may be.

Fin.

#Fluff #Mutual Admiration #Quiet Acknowledgment #Found Family?(However you see their dynamic #honestly.)#Comfort #OC x OC #honkai star rail #hsr #🕊️| SC Writes

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gldrushh · 5 months ago

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SUGAR AND SIN | JK FANFICTION

→ TEASER

synopsis: Aurora Beckett is as sweet as the cupcakes she makes and as bright as the morning sun that fills her bakery, the first thing in the morning. With a knack of making friends every chance she gets and putting them before her, she finds herself in trouble more than a friendly neighborhood baker should. Yet this time, the trouble came barging itself. Jeon Jungkook- the shadow syndic, a name whispered through the darkest corners of South Korea, feared like the devil himself. Certain circumstances lead him to her, and the next thing he knows, 5'4 "inches of pure headache is his self-proclaimed partner in crime. But when annoyance starts to twist into a need for the girl, who's everything he's not, he realizes that she is the one who's trouble.

TITLE Sugar and Sin.

PAIRING Mafia boss! Jungkook × female oc

GENRE Mafia au, grumpy × sunshine, forced proximity, slow burn, dark romance, crime/ thriller.

WARNINGS violent acts - including murder, physical confrontations, and threats of harm. Dark Themes – Themes of crime such as kindapping and human trafficking, power dynamics, moral ambiguity, mature language, characters experiencing physical and emotional abuse. Please continue with caution.

TAGS Mafia boss Jungkook, peirced and tattooed jungkook, he is also a meanie, sociopath Jungkook, jungkook with a gun, RICH man, he kills people for a living or maybe for vengeance, oc and Jk both struggle from a traumatic past, oc is a cat person, oc is an extorvert, people pleaser oc, she is sick and tired of bills, oc is a daddys girl, oc may or may not have a tiny crush on the mafia boss, she is also a little reckless, sloooooooow burn, yearning and pining, a great amount of both from Jungkook's side until he eventually admits it and becomes a simp (he will be downnn horrendously bad), he fucks up at some point, angst angst and angst, but also angst with happy ending? eventual fluff after a longgg wait but it's tooth rotting so maybe it's worth it, eventual smut (maybe Idk man), protective Jungkook, he will die and kill for his people, possessive Jungkook, obsessive too, he is also kind of pathetic but his aura goes insane, oh and he also wears gloves 24/7

A/N woah maybe this sounds kind of cliché but writing this brings me great joy and I hope you feel just the same if you choose to read it. This is my first time posting a silly work of mine to a public platform and I'm not really hoping for something big but genuine readers and friends I plan to make along the way. Thank you if you're reading this. I hope my words can be worth your time.

Also If you wanna get ahead, I have already posted 9 parts of this on my wattpad.

Thank you again. I will be starting to post here soon.

He was here.

In her goddamn living room, sitting on her couch like he owned the place.

The realization hit her slowly, like the creeping cold of winter sneaking under the door. She hadn’t heard him come in. She hadn’t seen him approach. But there he was, every inch of him radiating danger.

He was here to fulfill the promise of something dangerous.

He was here for her.

She didn't need to look through her memories of last night to recognize him. The inky voids that were placed where eyes normally are were proof enough, and so was the horrifying calmness he carried with himself surrounding the small space of her apartment.

Her lips parted, her breath shortened and her unblinking eyes went all over him, his gloved hands that were skilled for taking lives-she was sure of it- resting flatly on his broad, muscled thigh clothed with the black of his pants, his shirt of a softer fabric soft yet unyielding, strained against the hard planes of his chest. The tailored suit jacket stretched over biceps that seemed too solid, too real, for this moment to be anything but a nightmare and there was the face she hadn't properly grasped in the chaos of last night, now all sharp lines, cool beauty, and unsettling stillness.

Maybe the devil wasn't a short red man with thorns and tail at all. Maybe he wore tailored suits and silver piercings.

"Breathe. And sit down."

#jeon jungkoooook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts au #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #mafia au #jungkook scenarios #jk #bangtan #dark romance #tw violence #fyp tumblr #writers on tumblr

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slippinninque · 11 months ago

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✨💕Slips' List 💕✨

Hello! Welcome to my master list!

(updated 01/01/2025)

About me: Ya'll can call me Slips! I love to write and can be a bit slow at posting, so please be patient with me! I write with black, fem women in mind as the reader.

Current Inspo: Alex Cross (Cross), Terry Richmond (Rebel Ridge)

Thinking of: Jatemme Manning (Widows) Fontaine (They Cloned Tyrone), Shigeru Kimura (Bullet Train), Koji Shimazu (John Wick 4), Oj Haywood (Nope), Kratos (GOW) Terry Richmond (Rebel Ridge)

Requests: OPEN! (please be patient with me, I am a bit of a slow writer lol)

Things to keep in mind: MINORS DNI, Be Nice, and Be Responsible For Your Own Consumption. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted here or onto any other platform. I do not give permission for my work to be use for any AI learning/purposes. Also, please feel free to reblog and comment--I would love to know what you think!

✨Works / Blurbs✨

Fontaine, Seduced

Fontaine Fluff

Mwuah (Fontaine fic)

The Bad Day (Fontaine Fic)

Fontaine Likes Pretty Things

You (Learned To) Like Pretty Things, Too

Pillow Time (Fontaine fic)

Sleepy Snap Shots (Fontaine fic)

Fontaine Likes to Wrestle

A Lil'Bit Special (Fontaine fic)

Fontaine The Handy Man

Winter with Fontaine

Riding With Fontaine

Supportive 'Taine

'Taine loves Love

Fontaine x Rainy Day

Fontaine Unleashes His Inner Ramsey

Bear Hug (chester fic)

Fontaine, Sunned

Fontaine Thinks You're Beautiful

Fontaine vs Usher

Now & Later (Fontaine fic)

A Different Perspective (Fontaine fic)

Kiss Me Through The Phone (Fontaine fic)

Private Dancer (Fontaine fic)

Sweet Tooth (Fontaine fic)

Special Directives (Lloyd Hansen fic)

Cruisin' (Fontaine fic)

Pendulum (Fontaine fic)

Fussy (Fontaine fic)

Red Handed (Jatemme Manning fic)

Skimming(Jatemme Manning fic)

Just A Lil' Fun (Fontaine fic)

Home Makin' (Jatemme Manning fic)

Tanoshi Yoru (Koji Shimazu fic)

Songbird's Blues (Shigeru Kimura)

You admit your crush (Fontaine fic)

The Power of Patience (Shigeru Kimura fic)

The Sudden Goodbye (Koji Shimazu fic)

Nosey (Jatemme Manning fic)

Never Far Behind (Koji Shimazu fic) prt.2

Jatemme x Small Falls Surprise

Loan x Tommy (OC fic)

Spinning The Block (Jatemme Manning fic)

Busted(Chester fic)

Girl Time! (Koji Shimazu-ish fic)

Taking a Nibble (Jatemme Manning fic)

Fontaine x Jodeci

Ongoing (Alex Cross fic)

Seconds (Chester fic)

Taking A Nibble (Jatemme Manning fic)

Toasty(Fontaine fic) A Small Exchange (Terry Richmond fic)

Winter with Fontaine prt. 2 A Neighborly Favor (Terry Richmond fic)

💕Asks / Submissions💕

Some Place Warm (Fontaine fic)

Taquiner (Fontaine fic)

"how would Fontaine react to his girl’s’ pregnancy glow?"

how Fontaine would be while in love

Jealous Fontaine

Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone (Fontaine fic)

TLC (Fontaine fic)

Fontaine Admits His Crush

Early Birds (Fontaine fic)

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borathae · 1 year ago

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↳ Index [Snippet #40 - Annoying]

"When Jungkook acts like the annoying idiot you fell in love with."

Genre: married life!AU, Fluff

Warnings: Kookie being annoying and cute <33, a summer holiday, our queen OC suffers from holiday indigestion rip to her, she describes her poop to him in vivid detail, listen!! they’re married and in love and the intimacy they share makes me weak

Wordcount: 1.2k

a/n: i had this thought that "dookie" would be actually a really cute (and annoying<3) nickname. And i think that out of all my bois, ogc!koo is the best candidate for such a nickname. So here we are, enjoy this cute lil fluff piece 🧡

Your husband is where you left him. He is lounging on the sun bed under the shadow of the straw umbrella, wearing nothing more than black swimming shorts and a pair of dark sunglasses perched atop his nose. The only jewelry he wears is his wedding ring, his piercings and a small fake shark tooth pendant on a leather string, which you both got from the street vendor in front of the hotel. He is currently on his phone, moving his foot in a mindless rhythm.

You and he went on a vacation together. Very far away from home. So far in fact, that you had to take a plane to get there. And it was the best decision ever. The beaches are beautiful, the ocean is clean and has just the right temperature and the hotel is gorgeous. Food is amazing as well, but there was one problem with that. You haven’t been able to take a shit ever since you started this holiday and this was five days ago. You can barely fit any more food inside, your stomach has been hard from everything collecting in there and you have been suffering from a strong tummy ache for two days already, but no matter what you did, you just couldn’t get your body to work. Jungkook had less problems this way. This complete traitor already went to the toilet three times. Unlike you, who still hasn’t been able to go.

That is until today when the sudden urge to poop overcame you as you and Jungkook enjoyed piña coladas by the ocean. You abandoned Jungkook by the beach and ran to get back to your room.

Now, almost an hour later you are back.

Jungkook turns his head to you when he feels your presence. He lowers his phone.

“And? What’s the status?” he asks.

You lie down on the sun bed next to him, letting out a long sigh.

“I did it.”

“Yaaay, let’s go”, Jungkook cheers quietly, throwing his fists in the air in tiny motions, “no more tummy aches for you.”

“Yeah, I guess but I can’t be happy yet.”

“Why? That bad?”

“It was a warzone. You have no idea what I’ve just been through. I have PTSD just thinking about it. I had the sweats and everything, even had to take off my clothes and I kept gripping the edge of the sink and even had to put my feet up higher. I stacked like three toilet rolls for that.”

“Damn.”

“And it smelled so bad. You have no idea, I stank up the entire room so bad that I had to leave the windows open when I left.”

“Oh no, that bad?”

“Yeah, that bad. I was constipated at first until it shot outta me like a torpedo and I thought it was over until I got a tummy cramp and then I started to explosive diarrhea everywhere.”

“Ooh damn okay that sounds traumatic.”

“It was traumatic. My ass hurts and I still feel dirty even though I took a shower. With two rounds of soap. But I had to do it in like my own toxic shit fumes and I think they’re burned into my nostril hairs because I can still smell it.”

Jungkook cracks up.

“Awww baby, you’re my little stinker now”, he teases, nudging your arm playfully, “my little stinkbug.”

“No, stop, don’t call me that”, you whine, “it’s already embarrassing enough.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, my stinkbug. It’s only natural to shit.”

“I told you not to call me that”, you get out under your breath, hitting his thigh gently, “what if someone hears you?”

Jungkook snickers, “and it’s okay for you to describe your traumatising shit to me in vivid detail?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I did it quietly. I know you, you’re just gonna call me stinker for the rest of the day and that’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook snickers, “I think it’s cute. My little stinker”, he says and leans over to smooch your cheek.

“Shut up, you’re so annoying”, you mumble, nudging his chest.

“Mhm and you married me, so you love it.”

You roll your eyes at him, letting out a small chuckle.

“You’re annoying”, you say fondly and rest back on the sun bed.

“I’m happy for you though”, Jungkook says, caressing your tummy gently, “I was suffering with you. Holiday indigestions are the worst.”

“Yeah, I’m happy too. Traumatised but happy.”

He chuckles, squeezing your thigh. You laugh, patting his hand.

“Hey, my stinker?” Jungkook asks then.

“Urgh, shut up. What?”

“Can you lotion up my back? I wanna go for a swim, but I’m scared to burn”, Jungkook asks as he already turns his back to you.

“Yeah, of course”, you say, sitting up so you can comfortably reach his back. You own one of those sunscreens which comes in a spray bottle. You spray it directly onto Jungkook’s back, earning yourself a loud yelp of shock from him.

“This is so cold. No. Don’t do that”, he whines, trying to writhe away which only makes you spray more cream onto his back.

“It’s what you get for calling me stinker”, you say with a shiteating grin on your lips.

“Wah, you’re so mean”, he says, making you chuckle.

You place the bottle aside and connect your hands with his back to spread the sunscreen evenly. His body is very clearly warmed up from the summer heat, his back feels hot under your palms. You are sure that a swim in the cool water will do him good.

“Make sure to get the tattoos”, he says.

“I am”, you promise him, “don’t worry.”

“Thanks, stinky.”

“Do. Not.”

You pinch his sides, making him squeak and writhe away.

“Don’t call me that.”

You tickle him again, forcing him to laugh and fight you off with his hands.

“Stinky, please.”

“Don’t call me that”, you warn as laughter escapes you and your fingers squeeze his ticklish waist even harder.

“Sorry fine sorry, I yield”, he gives up, twisting around so he is facing you, “you win, don’t tickle me”, he laughs, pushing your hands away gently.

You grin in triumph, “good.”

Then you reach for the face sunscreen, opening it.

“Good idea”, Jungkook says, closing his eyes in anticipation.

You spread an even layer of sunscreen on his face and neck, making sure to get his ears as well. The remnants of the sunscreen, you spread on his shoulders.

“Do you need it reapplied on your arms as well?” you ask him.

“No, I managed to get everything else. It was just the back I struggled with.”

“Okay, then you’re good to go.”

“Thanks, sweetheart”, he says and gets up, “do you wanna join me?”

“No thank you”, you let out in a breathy laugh, shaking your head, “I still need to recover.”

“Okay. See you later, my dookie”, he says and grins.

“Jungkook”, you gasp, gawking at him with widened eyes.

Jungkook laughs and turns to jog down to the water with snickers of mischief leaving him.

“You’re annoying!” you call after him with your eyes racing over the other people to see if somebody had heard him. It seems that nobody did. You are simply yet another couple teasing each other lovingly in a sea of strangers.

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themareverine · 3 months ago

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Mare & the Wolverine ▹masterlist | Logan Howlett x fem!OC

summary: The Northern Territories were the last place Mare McAffery ever imagined herself, much less a prize fighting bar with characters the likes of the one they call the Wolverine. A logging community and living out of a Motel 6—it wasn’t exactly Shakespearean. But sometimes, survival calls for a tooth and nail fight—even for a preacher’s daughter.

warnings: AU, age gap, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, eventual romance, violence, angst, trauma, religion, self-insert, self-esteem issues, chance meetings, alcohol, grief/morning, mutual pining, falling in love, slow-ish burn, fluff and angst, canon-typical violence, virginity, reposted from my old account.

MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION | NEXT

PROLOGUE

“—don’t touch me, Logan!”

Shoving his hand off her arm may as well have been shaking off the weight of the sun. To his credit, his hand lifted away at just the moment she spun away, chest heaving as the burn for oxygen seemed to almost bleed from between her ribs. Tripping over her own feet she stumbled against the rear fender of her Jeep, grounded by the steel. Cool to the average touch, but inferno fire to her flaming skin.

“Listen, kid, I–” reaching for her again, his eyes are hard. Deep. Pleading as his hand extends to her, bridges the gap hanging between them like an endless abyss. It would take a lifetime for him to cross it, she knew—a lifetime he couldn’t give. Wouldn’t.

“Don’t call me that, Logan—I am not a child. I am not one of Charles’ students you get to lecture, to correct,” her voice cracks under the effort of containing a sob, but tears were a giveaway long before the rage in her voice. Betrayal—it bites like a whip. “I’m not on your damn grading curve, Logan!”

“I don't—”

“Shut the hell up!”

A single finger flung his direction pulls him up, to a stop. Brows raise in surprise, at her language no doubt. Akimbo, his chin levels with the floor. Hands find his pockets, lost for a moment as they sink low into the leathers. A six foot frame always meant he was peering down at her, but it was more than that—Logan had been looking down his nose at her from the first moments, the heartbeat of their relationship. From the jump, the gap between them had always been galactically broad—two surviving suns, revolving around the other. Fighting for gravity. For purchase. For life.

Charles had only made it worse.

“Mare,” he hesitates, she can almost feel him breathe. “You’re gonna regret leavin’ things like this, bub.”

Her name, soft and considerate from his lips like it never had been—it…it makes it worse. Slap of reality that cuts like a knife. The sting of what wasn’t, couldn’t ever be. Churning like a tidal wave in the base of her gut, it simmers low. Systolic in her chest, it spikes up to kiss the base of her ribs only when he takes half a step forward to her.

An effort to meet her halfway—halfway to somewhere. Halfway to anywhere that wasn’t here.

“There’s a lot of things I regret.”

Heart ricocheting off the bones in her chest, her eyes moved beyond him—beyond him, the mansion. Xavier. Jean, Scott, Hank, all of them. Beyond them, to the darkness; midnight abyss that seemed to spin in and out of itself in a way that sent shivers down her spine. The river of sweat racing down her spine was cold, raising gooseflesh to her skin even beneath her jacket. Jeans and boots—see-ya-later, hit-the-road clothes.

Ironically enough, the same ones she’d arrived at the mansion wearing.

Turning to throw her purse over the side of the open-air Jeep door, it hits the seat with a muffled thud as she all but rips the door open. Eyes not moving from him, she takes his frame in, head to toe. Toe to head and back again—and he looks so good, standing in the growing darkness. Under stars cut in the sky, maybe just for her. This moment. Maybe just for right now, to lock this in the vault of her memories she know she won’t be able to shake here to eternity.

Heel of her boot grinding into the gravel of the drive, she hesitates. Hand on the frame of the Wrangler, they curl around the cool steel, already slick with evening dew. It cuts right to the bones in her hand, the ache in her joints that burns like volcanic poison. Waiting to explode, to corrode the rest of her time had all but forgotten. Gnawing at the inside of her cheek, she swears to God any moment she’ll taste the spring of copper on her tongue, the blood she wills into her own mouth with every inhalation of life-preserving oxygen.

Pushing her weight off the frame of the Jeep, she turns to face him. Shoulders back, chin squared. Breathing hard, breathing slow—any kind of breathing to keep her two feet under her on earthquake sands. The lump forming in the back of her throat threatens to throttle the steel will dropping into her spine like an eye beam, and before she can even recalculate, think it through—she’s crossing the night between them. Grabbing the front of his flannel shirt, she’ll never forget how the brush of her fingers against the peek of hair on his chest feels for all the rest of her living nights.

Kissing him—quickly, roughly, hard—has never felt so wrong. Or so right. It solidifies every thing. Shatters every other. Unable to think straight, unable to breathe beyond the taste of him, she releases. Let's go when that thing that everyone talks about—when he breaks, when that every-so-little shift of his jaw—tells her, for the first time, that he’s hungry. Hungry for this, for her—

—for what can’t be.

The arch of his hand from the corner of her eye is possessive, wanting—she ducks, backstepping away before he can reach her. She’s already flicking the keys of the Jeep forward, feet planted on the brake and clutch, when he comes to a stop at her door, hands on the frame.

Her name from him, a second time. “Stay.” Stay, stay, stay.

I can’t, Logan. "No."

It’s painful between the mesh of her ribs, the one she’s missing. The one that belongs to him, had belonged to him since the beginning. God’s design.

Damn him for being so stubborn, so—Logan.

“I’ll see you around, Logan. Take care of yourself.”

He won’t.

And, a faraway part of her knows that. Another part wills that it won’t be–can’t be–her problem anymore. She has to stop caring about him, about his life. Where he goes and what he does, whom he decides to love and where he decides to stay.

She has to stop loving the Wolverine.

contents ▹ good poison

tags: @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @fandomxo00

#hugh jackman #wolverine #logan howlett #logan #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x oc #wolverine x oc #x men #xmen logan #xmen wolverine #xmen #mare writes #james logan howlett #james howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine fanfiction #logan xmen

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50cal-fullauto-astarion · 1 year ago

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x g l a s g o w g r i n n e r

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!OC / 2.1k words

Soap’s always been a little too comfortable playing at violence, always gone-bright when he can turn the threat of it into a promise. Joke’s on the world at large: Special Agent Bordelon’s into that shit.

Or: Soap pulls a knife on a stranger for being a creep, because he’s from the brutal street stabbing capitol of the UK and that’s just how you say “Hi, hey, hello—back the fuck off.” And a million kisses to @lunarvicar for encouraging my bullshit! LOVE YOU NAT 🫶

It is never hard to run with Soap and keep his breakneck pace—the only thing that had been difficult was adjusting to the fact that someone else could finally keep up with hers. It’s a stomach-thrilling shock to look from the corner of her eye, and find the blur of his burly shape there, winking and clicking his tongue without breaking a sweat.

Bordelon is soft for the Scot sook, god forsake the shit out of her.

He’s landed in D.C. on medical leave, a broken collarbone leaving his arm in a sling, and the first thing he’d done—after kissing his way up her neck to the spot behind her ear that made her skin sing and her palms sweat—was sling his good arm around her neck, pulling her in close, and nibbling her earlobe. “Christ, s’it always pishin’ it doon here, too?”

“Naw,” she laughed back, reaching to tangle their fingers together on her chest, his backpack slung over her shoulder, “just October, couillon.”

“Ohh, talk that dirty, fake French to me, mah cherry,” he mock-growled, which just earnt himself a pap! of the palm to his cheek. All play, no sting, and he beamed.

That night burns down to the coals—traipsing back to her apartment, showing off the ugly bruise that bleeds does from his neck to his bottom-rung rib, kissing and touching and figuring out a way to fuck that doesn’t hurt him too-too much.

(The man likes a little ache in it, here and there. Calls dichotomy in that blessed, rock-fall accent. Ratios of sweet to sour, black to white, sun and night. As if he had any more concept of balance and moderation than she.)

He lies across the bed in that silly-ass sling, watching her bitch her smart TV a blue-streak while wearing one of his threadbare navy t-shirts and nothing else. Rubs the spot at the bottom of his sternum, listening to rain slap heavy sheets against the old windows, and says, “Perdita.”

“Don’t you full name me,” she warns, shaking her head, because it is an ill-fitted address. For him, she is Hen, or Perdie, in much the same way he is her Johnny, Jean, or John-boy. A thing you love is all in how you name it, and their names are softened and held close; in the way of lovers who began as friends, once they were strangers no more.

“We’re getting married ‘fore I ship back tae Glasgow,” is how he finishes his thought, and Bordelon turns on her hips, back and forth, vaguely pointing the remote at the screen. He gives her a challenging tooth-sharp smirk. “Thought I should warn you.”

“Mhm. Yeah.” She wonders if she should count this a proposal, or call his bluff, and then she thinks—might as well nail both options to the fuckin’ wall while she’s got the knife. “We go our way onto the courthouse tomorrow. Keep it simple, ça c’est bon?”

International marriage is never that simple, though, and they’re both the wiser to it. But the sentiment is pretty, and it sparks amongst the hard-bought bonfire that lives in the depths of her chest, flames rising and licking to glorify his name. So, they call it an engagement, and Soap pulls a turn-around she doesn’t expect, turning his phone off to pull a shade of night over only the two of their heads.

He’s no family to call, apart from his 141, and even then, there’s a hesitance to his hands. Her man—her bombastic, beautiful bastard—could not stand to be a burden, no. A nightmare that is for him, himself. Even if he were to reach out with the utterly, desolately rare delivery of good news (a phenomenon grown so rare that Neptune would sooner complete circuits around the sun these days), it would make his skin crawl.

Were he to have his way, his burdens would never leave the span of his shoulders to weigh down another’s back, even something as small as what might be an inconveniently timed but otherwise benign or even welcome call.

Come the gray and misting morning, he’s handsy and all-paws, even short a limb, groping for Bordelon as the woman rolls upright on the edge of the bed, pushing her sleep-tangled hair away from her face before it irritates her to death. His hand is warm, callused, and heavy with insistence as it settles into the dip of her violin hip, trying to pull her back into the warm expanse of his hard-packed body.

“Perdie, Hen,” he grunts, tone shading toward playful complaint, “the fuck’re y’doin’ awake?”

“Startin’ off,” she croaks, shaking her head, pushing at his fingers as they crawl closer to her cunt. “Stop that—arrête ça! You’re mangy this morning, T’Jean,” she laughs, pushing more firmly at his grip. “No, get up. Got a friend, knows her way ‘round immigration policy, and she always got an envie for brunch.”

“Brunch?” he questions, flat as buried flounder, falling back into her mountains of mismatched pillows with a dreadful look on that handsome face of his. “Darlin’, am no getting my fat ass outta bed, even for brunch. Feel kinda fruity even sayin’ it.”

“Even for to get us married?” she darts back, turning to look at him, drawing her fingers in circles through the hair on his lower stomach, cooing ridiculously in her rasp-rough drawl, “Even for me.”

“Goddamn,” he groans, throwing baby-dog eyes her way. “I mean, was hopin’ you’d take it serious—cannae tell wi’ your ass—but.” He swallows, one of those corny, I’m-about-to-fuck smiles threatening the corner of his mouth, the one that makes him all coy and keen, looking down at her pale, spidery fingers drifting closer and closer through his thick, dark body hair to his fattening cock. “Wouldn’t you rather stay in bed? Cold morning like this, I could keep you warm.”

She just barely brushes her fingers over his cock before she’s snap-sliding out of bed, copperhead quick, tossing over her shoulder, “Nope! Already sent an email, she knows we on the schedule,” on her way to the shower.

Soap drops back against the bed, rubbing his stubbled face, grunting, “Bordelon, you arsehole.”

But he can’t withstand the siren call of watching her in the shower, so, ever-faithful and ever-horned up, he follows after.

D.C. is about as filthied up with the sorrows of addiction and homelessness as any other place, Bordelon supposes. Can’t tell if it’s better or worse than any of the time she spent down New Orleans or Baton Rouge way. Colder, mostly. But it’s not all the time you need to know about the homeless or the drug addicts—keepin’ eyes on them, keepin’ them in your ears, at least at the sides.

Sometimes, it’s the fella in the khakis, with a puffer jacket and prescription glasses, his behaviors making his Rolex look cheap shit.

Bordelon and Soap slide last into the car before the doors pull shut, close to standing-room early in Crystal City as lunch hour approaches. All the suits are out their offices, scrounging for edibles, droning loud and monotone on their cells. Whole car is damp and humid from the downpour, human body heat causing an intense mugginess that crawls under the clothes to irritate the skin. It’s damn near enough to make Bordelon’s head spin, neck uncomfortable with sweat the way it was all them years down deep, deep in the south.

“No, sit doon,” Soap says, flapping the good arm great and wide, trying to get her to pop a squat on the only empty seat left, shaking his head. “Dinnae try bossin’ me, talkin’ wi’ that spooky-arse agency voice. Want away from you a minute.”

He dresses up chivalry as dismissal, and she can’t help but grin, even as she dawdles on sitting.

“What? You don’t like how Tiffany sounds? I swear, she’s perfectly nice. And outstanding in her field. She’s an accomplished agent, and her superiors are recommending her for a promotion,” she says, in that self-same agency voice of which he’d complained—rich and clear, dialect: nonregional, speech pattern: nondescript.

“Oof, fuckin’ hate that, stop,” he snorts, faking a shiver, but he does complain, “Hey, what? Where you goin’?” when she actually does move to sit down, tugging her up by the collar of her shirt just a bit to pop a grinning kiss against her mouth.

She doesn’t realize, at least not right away, that the tug at her collar disrupted her shirt. Just enough to make a few buttons slip, exposing more of her right tit under her open coat. Wore a thin top today, loose, but figured the dark fabric would hide any transparency. Hated tight clothes, hated bras, and never wore one; just figured her rack had spent thirty-three years being nothing to comment on.

Well. More than half a tit exposed was enough to catch the attention of the man who cheapens his Rolex by being the one to wear it.

Soap likes strange things because he, himself, is a strange thing, and Bordelon had thought to take him the two hours north to Philly to hit the Mütter Museum to see their medical abnormalities, because once their brunch is out, they’ll have an entire day to themselves. She’s busy showing him pictures, enticing him, when the woman next to her taps her thigh.

Like an alarm hollerin’ in her head, she starts running two tracks instant-like, leaning without looking as she whispers, “Yeah, chere?”

The woman is older, in maroon scrubs—some kinda tech, smell of jelly on her says maybe ultrasound—and nonslip clogs. Can’t quite see her name badge, but that seems on purpose, covered up by her fleece.

“That man over there—he’s takin’ pictures of you,” she whispers back, straightening her jacket needlessly as a hint, “just wanted you to know. Maybe tell your man?”

“Oh, no,” Bordelon hums, smoothly pulling her shirt back into place, “I tell him, he gonna light that stupid bastard up like a candle.”

“Who’s lightin’ me up like a candle?” Soap stage-whispers, all play, and Bordelon knows exactly how the next ten seconds are gonna go, and it plays out picture perfect to her premonition. Bordelon tells him don’t worry, I got it, the Good Samaritan in maroon scrubs informs him of the creep, and the smile on Soap’s face turns into a flesh-ripper grin as all the fun burns outta his gaze like a gas fire in a hyperbaric chamber.

“Oh?”

“MacTavish,” she warns him, “wait til the stop.”

“Naw, naw, naw. I’ll play nice, Hen.” That means, sure as shit, he won’t.

The switch knife he takes out his back pocket is deadly smooth, and so is his broad step to the stranger and his budget, Amazon-bought phone case, pushing straight into his man-spread legs.

The fact there isn’t an immediate uproar, but the man’s face is blanched and staring up at him with a shitload of oh fuck on his face speaks to Soap’s own scary-ass career, and Bordelon can barely see the tip of the knife pressing into the spot just below the stranger’s ribs.

“Hey, pal, mornin’,” Soap says, bright and easy as anything, voice not droppin’ even a note, head tilted real friendly. “Do me a favor, eh? Just drop your phone next t’my boot, yeah? We’ll just get this little creeper session done and dusted.”

Can’t even hear the clunk when it slides out of the man’s limp hand, and it’s even quieter when the heel of Soap’s boot shifts over to destroy the screen, grinding it to dust.

“Good man,” he says, pulling the knife back to close it and slide it into his sling. “Next stop, you’re off. But you’re gonna leave your phone on the floor. Hope you dinnae eat shet on the way home to your ol’ lady.”

Bordelon resists the urge to slap a hand over her face, but when Soap kicks the phone back to her, she catches it under the toe of her boot, catching the expression of the tech to her side, unsurprised but impressed. Must have herself a man like Soap, waiting for her to make it home.

“Sorry ‘bout the screen, Perdie. Think you can get in there and delete his shet still?” Soap asks, tone a bottom lip pout, and Bordelon nods, tucking her fingers into the back of his belt before snaking them up under his shirt, swirling her fingertips into his back dimples.

“Hah. You know it, Johnny,” she hums, looking up at him from under her lashes. It’s a tenderness, sweet and true, taking up space between her lungs. Mad bastard. Crazy motherfucker. Loony bitch. When he looks back at her, he curls his fingers under her jaw, looking relieved. Poor thing knows hit dog hollers, and he long ago stopped yelping when he was struck. He’s looking to be told he didn’t do something bad. But she finds his pace, she always does. Of course, she did.

But that goes beggin’ the question: what’s a hellhole-heart like her supposed to do with a love like this?

Tag List: @alittleposhtoad @skinnyazn @dotcie @snail-eggs @parttimeprophet @kastlequill 💖💖

#john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap MacTavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap cod #soap call of duty #soap x oc #call of duty mwii #call of duty #mw2 #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod mw2 #oc: Bordelon #dunno what else to tag this as #my work #enjooooyyyyy 💃👯👯‍♀️👯‍♂️🕺🏻

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