#ya i only get places via the bus

[dumbfanficsbylena]

heres this (ragatha x pomni)

“Gather ‘round, campers, because we’ve got a long road ahead of us!” Caine nudged Zooble slightly, making as bemused a face as one could make with a pair of dentures for a head.

“See, it’s funny to me because I know what’s going on.” Rolling their eyes, Zooble made their exit stage left.

“C’mon Zooble, where ya goin’?” Jax said with a shit-eating grin and hands firmly on his hips.

“I’m not getting stuffed in another @*#*ing gloink hole. Later.”

“Sorry m’dear, this one’s not optional!” Extending his arm, Caine wrapped it around Zooble, rapidly swinging her back into place.

“Hope you don’t mind.” Caine said with a light punch to the shoulder.

“Go *#*# yourself.” Despite his words, Zooble merely crossed his arms and realized he had no say in the matter.

“Great to hear!” Letting go of Zooble, Caine shot up from the ground, cracking his knuckles. With a snap of his fingers, the tent dissolved away in a transition fitting of an early 2000s powerpoint animation. Around the cast members was a vast expanse of plastic-sheen desert. A few low-poly cacti dotted the landscape, and the skybox seemed to have a few mountains drawn onto it. Although it gave a certain illusion of a continuous landscape, Pomni was pretty sure she could see a cliff between the mountains and the ground.

Most notably, was a rounded block of a bus, sporting an exaggerated face on the front bumper. Being a shorter bus, it contained only around eight seats. Still, it was enough to comfortably fit the whole cast.

While for most of the cast this sort of vibrant teleportation is a normal Tuesday, Pomni looked around anxiously, not nearly as used to it.

“So, look. I know we’re all a little shaken up after... Ahem. Kaufmo.” At the mention of the abstracted character, Caine tugged at his shirt collar a bit, refusing to make eye contact. Likewise, the cast didn’t seem too terribly comfortable at the mention, except for Jax, who put on a veneer of apathy, and Kinger, who looked like he didn’t quite comprehend the situation.

“So I’ve decided to make it up to you by bringing back a human tradition! I- I think anyways. Far back in time, humans used to travel via large, motorized contraptions across the desert. This was largely considered to be ‘fun’ and ‘mentally stimulating’.” Caine paused after this, looking around to gauge the group’s reaction.

“So what, you’re gonna drive us around in circles all day?” Jax asked with a wave of his hand.

“No!” Looking to each other, everyone waited for the ring master to explain the plot of the adventure. When no answer was forthcoming, Ragatha spoke up.

“So-”

“YOU’RE gonna drive yourselves around in circles all day! And nobody leaves until we’ve had a nice long.... say, eight hours of continuous driving? Anyways, have fun!” With that, Caine shrunk slowly away until he was too small to see, leaving the gang around to decide what to do. After a few moments of awkward silence looking at each other, Jax was the first one to speak up.

“I vote Kinger drives.” he said with a chuckle, folding his arms. Ragatha just gave him a dirty look.

“I don’t-” Gangle said before immediately being cut off by Jax.

“C’mon guys, let me have this.” Without waiting for a response, Jax began slowly pushing Kinger towards the vehicle.

“I don’t care. Wake me up when we’re done” Zooble gave a wave of her claw. Gangle slunk after the three and Ragatha took a few tentative steps towards the bus. Stopping to turn around and look at Pomni, she saw her looking nervously around her new environment before speaking to Ragatha.

“So we’re just… driving around for eight hours? That’s it?”

“Well… Not all of Caine’s adventures are winners. We can still have fun though! C’mon, new stuff.” Ragatha held out a linen hand and offered a reassuring smile.

“O-okay.” Gently taking the offered hand, the two set off towards the bus, loading up with the rest of the cast.

The interior of the bus was simple. A nondescript driver's seat with zero indications of speed or gas, just a digital timer stuck at eight hours and a big red button labeled “start” Evidently Caine even skipped on the gas and brake pedal. There were three rows of seats behind the single driver's seat with no walkway, which ensured that anyone wanting a back seat would have to crawl over the fore seats to get there.

Zooble, with arms crossed and a brow furrowed in annoyance, had already made the trek to the furthest back seat. Gangle, who had donned their tragedy mask, sat beside zooble toward the other window. Jax sat smugly in the front seat right behind Kinger who held the driver's seat.

“Well… I suppose we can take the middle seat!” Ragatha said before flopping over the first seat to reach the middle. As Pomni followed behind, ready to jump over to Ragatha, Jax gave them both a raised eyebrow.

“What? Is… something wrong?” Pomni raised her own eyebrow at Jax.

“Oh nothing.” A smirk laced Jax’s words before he turned his attention back to Kinger, leaving Pomni to awkwardly hop over the seat to join Ragatha.

“Wow, my very own colored pencils.” With a solid grip on the wheel, Kinger slammed the start button.

“This is gonna be fun” Jax leaned forward in their seats, with everyone else anxiously waiting to see what would happen. Pomni looked down at her lap as her brain chose that moment to notice the lack of seat belts.

With a jolt, the bus started moving. Slowly at first, but picking up speed to a brisk pace. To everyone’s surprise, the bus didn’t immediately swerve off into the desert. Instead, Kinger now had one hand on the steering wheel, and was piloting it smoothly in the right lane.

“What? He just drives? There's no way he just knows how to drive.” Gesturing with open palms, Jax looked behind him to Ragatha. All Ragatha could do in response was shrug.

“Well, that was boring. Anyways I’m going to sleep.” Plopping her head on the window with a plastic clink, Zooble closed her eyes.

Jax frowned, adjusting in his seat to face the rest of the group.

“So… Road trip. Not Caine’s best work.”

“Yeeeeah. He’s been less… present lately too. Wonder if he’s busy with something.” Ragatha scratched her head as she spoke.

“You mean this isn’t normal?” Pomni ventured. After all, she had one other adventure to go off, and that one wasn’t great either.

“I mean is anything normal here? I was hoping it’d at least be funny.” Adding a sigh to his sentence, Jax flipped back around to face the front. Letting out a loud and dramatic sigh, he leaned back into his seat

“I’m sure Caine has something in mind. Despite his quirks, he’s pretty good at putting on a show!” Ragatha turned to face Pomni, holding up a patchwork hand for emphasis.

Trying to keep a positive outlook, Pomni’s expression turned to that of cautious optimism. Compared to being chased by a colossal abstract beast or seeing a character gloink’d it was a relatively tame experience.

Setting out on their eight-hour journey, the various characters passed the time. Road trip games were offered, but since the only thing they passed was an identical cactus every few minutes, hopes of that quickly died out. Eventually, even the conversation sunk to a lull. Growing bored, Pomni yawned, stretching an arm above her head. Did digital characters get tired? She didn’t feel tired, but with how bored she was, she didn’t particularly feel energized either.

Looking around the bus, everyone looked like they felt about the same as she did. Ragatha held her hands in her lap, tapping away with her rounded legs. Zooble, of course, was still asleep, having seemingly adjusted her antenna positions in her sleep. Gangle seemed to be tearing up at some unknown tragic thought. She couldn’t see Jax’s face, but heavily suspected he was bored as well, and Kinger hadn’t so much as moved an inch in the past two hours.

Typically, stimulation and mental activity was what staved off insanity in the digital world. Sat on a desert island where nothing changes, and they do the same repetitive task for eight hours? After only two of eight it seemed to be straining everyone. Zooble was probably the smartest one here, sleep would be the best thing to keep sane. Closing her eyes, Pomni shrunk into the seat, awkwardly trying to lean on the window for support.

Pomni awoke to the gentle hum of the bus motor. Rather, she awoke to what sounded like a crude sound file of an engine. Looking at the clock, it’d only been an hour since she fell asleep, and there didn’t seem to be much more going on than when she fell asleep. Deciding her sleep was cozier than the alternative of being awake, she nuzzled back up into the arm she was leaning against. Pomni began to drift off back to the land of artificial dreams.

“Wait.”

Pomni’s eyes shot open as she realized what she was leaning on. With a small yelp, she shot upright. Scrunching her face up in embarrassment, she retreated from Ragatha’s arm, scooting slightly away.

“Ah! Sorry!” Ragatha looked at her, slightly confused for a moment before catching herself.

“Its okay! I would’ve woken you up buuuuuuut you looked like you could use the sleep.” Ragatha ruffled Pomni’s hat slightly. Pomni felt her face flush under Ragatha’s smile.

“T-thanks. It was nice. I mean – the sleep that is. The sleep was nice.” Pomni covered for herself quickly, while trying and failing to not seem like an anxious mess. First widening her non-button eye, Ragatha then broke into a small chuckle, earning a slight smile from Pomni.

“Riiiiight. Say, I wonder how Kinger’s doing. He hasn’t said anything in an awfully long time.” Looking past Jax, who’d fallen asleep at some point, to Kinger, they saw the cloaked chess piece sitting stock-still in the driver’s seat. Pomni held a hand up to her chin in thought.

“Where’d he even learn to drive so... perfectly straight?” For the first time in hours, Kinger decided to respond at this very moment. Without looking behind him, he waved a hand in a vague gesture.

“I was a bus driver before I came here you know!” This statement brought odd looks from the girls. After all, nobody remembers their life before the circus, right? Ragatha wrote it off as another strange Kinger statement, but Pomni questioned it.

“You... You remember your life?” Maybe there was a clue here, she thought. Perhaps memories weren’t entirely lost? A few moments passed before Kinger slowly began turning around to face Pomni. Locking eyes, she quickly averted her gaze. Kinger held the stare for a few beats longer, before letting out an unprompted blood curdling scream.

Only taking seconds, the bus swerved off course, flinging the characters to the side and then flinging them forward as the bus stopped dramatically when hitting the side of the road. Zooble fell into pieces across the car, Gangle smashed her mask on the seat in front of her, and Jax fell face first forward into the clock. Thanks to Ragatha’s quick reaction time, Pomni only slammed into the soft doll hand in front of her.

“What the @*&# was that!?” Jax yelled, holding a hand in pain to his forehead. Pulling back slightly from the dashboard he found himself thrust into, his vision centered on the clock in front of him. It read a full eight hours remaining on the trip.

“What happened!? Why’s the clock zeroed out!?” Yelling angry, he hit the clock a few times to no avail. Zooble was yelling and complaining and asking for someone to put them back together. Ragatha obliged, but only after checking in with Pomni and Gangle.

“You @#*#ing $#*$!” Various swears and insults spilled from Jax’s mouth. Dramatically lifting the king up and out of the bus, he quite literally kicked the man to the curb.

“Jax! What are you doing? It’s your fault for having him drive!” As Ragatha stood with hands on her hips confronting Jax, Kinger’s eyes welled up like a puppy outside the bus’s closed door.

“Oh relax! Caine just said we had to drive eight hours, not that we all had to be on the bus. Besides, look at ‘em - he’s having a blast.” Sitting back down in his seat, he gestured outside the door window.

“Tell me more about your insect collection!” Somehow procuring a tea set and small table, Kinger raised his empty teacup to the cactus. Beautifully draped over the table sat a delicate pink and white checkered cloth. Pinky out, he took a loud pretend sip from the teacup. Back inside the bus, Jax snapped his fingers and looked at Gangle.

“Alright Gangle, you’re up.” Pointing to the driver's seat, Jax stared at Gangle expectantly. Looking shocked, she frowned deeply.

“W-why me?” Merely rolling his eyes Jax gestured around the rest of the bus.

“You’re the least likely to make it difficult and I’m sick of this adventure. Hop to it now.” Despite seeming like she really didn’t want the responsibility; she also really didn’t want to fight with Jax. Reluctantly, she slunk up to the front seat, easily sliding past Ragatha and Pomni with her ribbon body.

“Once more this time, gang. With feeling.” Although he was still trying his best to be funny, there was a certain edge to his voice. Somehow, Gangle ended up a worse driver. What wasn’t clear with Kinger was that the bus did not travel in a straight line of its own accord. Instead, it veered slightly on occasion. Poor weak Gangle didn’t have the strength or dexterity to pilot it straight.

While definitely embarrassed, Pomni couldn’t get her mind off how Ragatha’s soft and plush fabric felt. Finding her mind unable to stray from the thought, she kept peeking over at Ragatha. For just a moment she considered pretending to fall asleep but wrote that off as too courageous of a task...

At first Ragatha was just looking out the window. That was boring, so she turned to Pomni, only to find her staring at her shoulder. A hand over her mouth, she couldn’t help but let out a giggle.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, new stuff?” In her chest Pomni’s heart nearly burst. Embarrassment flooding her cheeks, she tried her best to be smooth.

“Uh – sand – you – wait no I meant cacti!” Had it been possible to melt in the digital world, Pomni would have discovered that. Jax, noticing what was happening, decided to insert himself into the conversation.

“C’mon, kiss already.” Of course, this earned him yet another glare from a hot-cheeked Ragatha. Reduced to a blushing mess, Pomni closed her eyes and grabbed at her hat. For fear of causing spontaneous combustion, Ragatha decided to wait for her to recover. After all, they had nothing but time.

Then she tapped on Pomni’s shoulder and was met with a confused look. About to say something, Pomni was stopped with a quiet shushing gesture. Patting her shoulder, she silently invited Pomni to rejoin her on her shoulder

Still cautious, Pomni glanced from side to side, but saw the cast members asleep. Not entirely sure she was interpreting correctly, she didn’t move. Rolling her eyes, Ragatha wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulders, pulling her closer.

Underneath her arm Pomni was stiff as a board. Although she desperately wanted to be close, the suddenness of it had her paralyzed with fear. Anxieties crept into her brain, and she feared she didn't deserve it.

As the moments passed, however, the soft caressing hand around Pomni’s shoulders eased her into it. Relaxing at first, she grew adventurous and nuzzled into Ragatha’s torso. Having felt Ragatha a few times, it wasn’t a complete surprise how she felt. Opposed to the normal blocky or smooth plastic texture of everything else in the digital world, the characters themselves had a texture reminiscent of their virtual form.

Ragatha’s, for instance, felt like a real doll. Her soft fabric skin softly rubbed against Pomni’s own and pomni’s head felt the patchwork rags of her dress. Unlike a doll, though, a soft warmth flooded through Pomni from Ragatha, reminding her subtly of what it was like to be human. Now she was leaning entirely into Ragatha. Drifting gently off to sleep, Pomni closed her eyes once more.

Eventually, she awoke again. This time it was a lot less violent. Instead of wildly swinging the bus around, Gangle had merely failed to maintain its trajectory. Jax... lost it. As opposed to Kinger, he stood towering over the fragile girl.

“#@*$ you can’t do anything right, Gangle!” It wasn’t witty like his usual demeanor, just plain mean spirited. Twitches and black digital artifacts spread across his body. Shrinking in her seat, the poor girl curled up, wrapping around herself slightly. Grabbing her by the mask, he walked to the door, dropped, and then kicked Gangle out of the bus.

“What the @*#& Jax!?” Ragatha stood up in her seat, ready to confront Jax. Her fists tightened and her eyes twitched.

Why do you have to be such a... such a @##*!? All the time!” Ragatha shouted. Given what Pomni knew of the cast so far, it seemed uncharacteristic for them to be so... enraged. Genuine vitriol laced their words.

“Oh, I’m a @*#* am I? Gee, if only I could hear what you were saying.” Jax's face was lined with a twitchy wide grin. Digital artifacts blinked in and out around their heads and faces. Pouring from Ragatha’s eyes were black sludgy tears.

“R-ragatha?” Nobody had told her exactly how abstractification worked -- Pomni was beginning to think it went something like this. Nervously glancing around, she also noticed that Gangle and Zooble had left the car at some point. In addition, the clock had been reset to eight hours, and the bus remained motionless some distance away from the single cactus that populated the landscape.

“Stay out of this pomni, I-” Stopping her in her tracks was the horrified look on Pomni’s face. Snapping her back to reality, she lifted a hesitant hand to her face. When she pulled it away, black stringy globules of matter pulled away and all at once she realized what was happening.

“I-I-I'm sorry. Everything’s gonna be okay Pomni! Don’t worry!” Though the black sludge had stopped falling they left dark trailing stains on Ragatha’s face. Forcing a smile, she reached tentatively toward Pomni.

Sudden movement didn’t help Pomni as she recoiled slightly in fear. Looking up at Ragatha’s face, Pomni saw a scared girl trying her best to keep it together. Blueish tears edged their way onto her face from her eyes. Flashes of her first day drifted into Pomni’s mind, and of Ragatha being dashed to the ground by Kaufmo’s broken mind. Fears aside, she rushed forward into Ragatha’s arms.

“P-please don’t go crazy. Please?” Ragatha’s arms wrapped tightly around Pomni, who began to burst into tears. The two girls embraced one another, laughing out of pure anxiety.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up! You’re so annoying!” The words sounded like they were ripping their way out of his throat. Standing up from his seat, the digital artifacting around Jax’s body began to intensify as sludge bubbled its way out of the edges of his mouth.

“Pomni, run!” In the digital world, weight wasn’t so much an issue, at least relative to Pomni and Ragatha. Thus, it was little issue for Ragatha to quite literally toss Pomni out of the door, where she landed on the sand-colored ground with a dull thud. Next to her was the lone cactus they’d passed a thousand times, along with Kinger. Evidently, he’d continued to have his cactus tea party.

“Oh hi, Pomni! We were just talking about you!” While the cactus remained completely immobile, Kinger joyfully waved, completely oblivious to the problem at hand. As Pomni slowly tried to stand, loud banging could be heard within the bus. Tens of eyes and various black tendrils writhed around inside the bus. Doors swung open on the side of the bus as Ragatha was tossed outside onto the ground. Just as the last time she had an encounter with the abstracted, she was a glitchy mess on the floor. Only this time, the difference was that she didn’t seem to be conscious at all.

“No no no no no no, not again!” Freezing up, Pomni saw behind Ragatha that whatever was left of Jax was now struggling to get outside of the bus, squeezing its large form through the comparatively small doors. She couldn’t grab Ragatha, not without hurting herself in the process.

“I-I-I...” Ragatha had wanted her to run, right? Maybe she would have wanted her to escape, even if she didn’t make it. What good was that though, living on in a world where she abandoned Ragatha?

“Aghh!” Then it hit her. She couldn’t touch her, but the rest of the digital world was completely unaffected by her presence. Twisting around, she yanked the pink cloth off the table, shattering bits of tea ware in the process. From there she was able to wrap it around Ragatha’s arm, and begin pulling her away from the bus, making her escape from the abstraction.

“Kinger! Run!” Where could they run though? As far as she could tell, the entire area was nothing but a single repeat of land and a road that led in a circle. Either way, Pomni ran as fast as she physically could, Kinger rushing just behind.

“Caine!? Caine!” That wouldn’t work, she tried it before. She could yell her throat out and Caine wouldn’t hear. Behind her, Pomni saw the beast bursting from the bus’s doors, tearing parts of the bus apart as skidded on to the floor. Spindly appendages pounded on the ground, quickly gaining ground over Pomni.

“Ooooookay Pomni. This is fine, this is fine! Just gotta think.” Thinking out loud to herself, she glanced from side to side. Last time Caine came, she had been in the void. Where would the void be? Without slowing down, she began running to the left, straight for the edge of the desert island.

“Kinger! Go jump off that cliff!” Without so much as a second thought or objection, Kinger rushed forward ahead of the two. Glancing backwards, he gave a heavy nod and a salute, and continued his way toward the horizon.

“Please...” Although it wasn’t necessarily difficult to carry Ragatha, it did slow her down a bit. That tiny bit was enough for the abstraction to gain fast ground on her. Only a little further now, and she and Ragatha would make it over the cliff. What was over the cliff, anyways? Would it lead to the void, or would she never return. It didn’t matter, it was the only place she could go.

She wasn’t going to make it and Pomni knew it. The edge was just barely too far. With how loud the pounding behind her was getting, she didn’t have to look to know that Jax – or what was left of him – was seconds away from reaching her.

It was a split-second decision – one she didn’t have time to think about. Stopping a few meters shy of the edge, she spun Ragatha around in a full circle before launching her straight at the cliff’s edge. The doll’s body sounded soft as she bounced across the ground. As Pomni watched her body slide just over the point of no return, a searing pain pierced her back. She didn’t even have time to scream before her world went black.

“Well, this is awkward.” Using his cane to scratch the back of his head, Caine looked away from the remaining cast members. She was alive. Glancing around erratically, she saw the whole gang gathered in a scattered group around Caine. That is, save for a certain rabbit. As soon as she laid eyes upon Ragatha, she immediately dashed towards the girl and wrapped her arms around her.

“Here I was, wanting to provide you all with a wholesome eight hours of uninterrupted featureless landscape, and it wasn’t fun.” With a roll of the eyes, he took a playful pose in the air. Nobody else seemed nearly as Jolly. Amidst the empty silent landscape, the only noises were Pomni and Gangle’s soft sobbing.

A few more quips were said, but nobody was in the mood. Caine had pushed his circus too hard and too far. Unsure of what to say, he merely returned them to the Tent. Zooble went off on her own, unusually quiet. Gangle and Kinger walked off outside to the grounds, and the two remaining girls stalked off to the dormitory hallway.

“P-please don’t go.” Pomni latched herself around the waist of Ragatha. Unable to stop herself, she’d been crying since they’d reunited. Ragatha patted the girl’s head, smiling sweetly down at her.

“I won’t go ‘til you’re good and ready for me to, sweet stuff.” One hand wrapped around Pomni’s she opened her room’s door behind her. As always, there was a pervasive fluorescent glow. The room itself, however, was reminiscent of a little girl’s room, or a doll house. Pink was the theme here, with baby pink bed sheets and white and pink striped wallpaper. It didn’t quite fit Ragatha’s personality, but it certainly fit her character. Sitting on the bed, Pomni had her head in Ragatha’s lap. Beside the bed lay her jester cap, and Ragatha slowly ran her fingers through the girl’s fluffy hair.

“I guess we’re really in this together, huh?” Her voice was soft and soothing to Pomni, who was laying still with eyes shut.

“Y-yeah” Turning her head to look up at Ragatha, her smile was tilted and awkward.

“After today... I don’t think it’s safe here.” Ragatha closed her eyes for a moment and thought, continuing to caress Pomni’s head.

“Pomni? I feel... I feel like I want to try again, to leave here with you. Will you come with me?” It took some effort to sit up in Ragatha’s lap, but their faces came close together as she waited eagerly for a response.

“Of course.” Ragatha’s soft quilted lips drifted ever closer to Pomni’s face. Distance was unbearable in that moment, as Pomni’s voice grew soft to a whisper.

“C-can… can I…” Struggling to get the words out, Ragatha answered by crossing the final distance and meeting their lips together. Although still a similar texture to the rest of her body, the lips were particularly warm and soft. Slowly they moved, as if trying to memorize the other’s lips.

Encouraged by her success, Pomni tentatively caressed Ragatha’s arm. In return Ragatha wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, running her hands along her back. After a few seconds of enjoying each other's embrace, they parted.

“We’ll be okay, sweet stuff. We’ll be okay.”

[pokeprism]

Short Story: The Two Garden Tenders

This story was completed in September 2023, but didn't make it here until now (January 20th, 2024)!

Any questions, comments, concerns about this story (or any other of my works) are best sent to my askbox!

The text itself is two thousand one hundred eighteen (2,118) words in total, and is below the cut for the sake of your dashboards!

Weeks before, Tia had seen an available gardening job not too far from her home. After reading through the listing’s details, Tia went and applied for that job via her magitech device. Now, Tia has just stepped off the bus and set foot in what she deems to be the fanciest towns she’s seen in her life. Admittedly, Tia’s only ever been on the lower income end of town, but the thought tumbles off her mind similar to when a moth hits the lamp it’s seeking. As she walks down the avenue looking for the right address, she passes several artisan-made homes that barely resemble their neighbors minus the neutral white, gray, and brown tones in each. By the time Tia makes it halfway down the street, she finds the job’s listed address, 4242 Knox Avenue. Tia looks up from the address’s plaque and sees that the home itself lays atop a surprisingly flat hill with enough space for the structure’s foundation and a path lined with stones leading to the home’s front door. Tia hears her notification tone from her magitech device go off, prompting her to unlock her screen and investigate. The message that prompted the tone shows itself to be a message from the estate’s owner, Eric.

Eric’s text is simple and to the point. “Walk up to the front door” Another tone goes off before Tia can even respond. “I will brief you on the job once you are inside”

Tia replies with a thumbs up emoji before beginning to follow the path to the estate. While traversing the path up the hill, Tia glances at the stones lining the well-trodden path and notices their repeating pattern of gray, white, and mossy green all the way up to the front door before arriving just ahead of the entrance. Before Tia can attempt to knock, Eric opens the door ahead of her.

Eric puts on a slight smile before greeting Tia. “Greetings, you must be Tia Evergreen?”

Tia nods as she nestles one hand in the other just in front of her chest. “Yep! Just call me Tia if ya will!”

Eric chuckles at what he thinks of as an improper accent before answering back. “Understood Tia, follow me in!”

Eric fully opens the door and sets himself in a place that allows Tia to walk in. Tia casually walks through the open doorway, Eric politely closes the door behind Tia, then gestures for her to follow before walking to the dining room. Tia follows close behind Eric, but ends up marvelling at all of the decorations scattered throughout the estate’s interior, mostly the small porcelain frogs sitting on almost every flat surface. After prying her eyes away from the petite frogs dotted along her path to the dining room, Tia notices an older woman sitting at one end of the dining room table. As Tia takes her seat opposite to the old woman, Tia notices the old woman’s resemblance to Eric.

The old woman waves to Tia before Eric clears his throat.

“Anyways! Good afternoon Tia, you’ve got a fair amount to do around here!” Eric states.

The older woman at the table laughs. “Oh Eric, don’t front load the girl so hard! She’s only just got here!”

Tia’s gaze shifts to Eric as the woman gets done speaking.

Eric puts a hand to his face. “Of course, mother…” Eric moves his hand off of his face before speaking yet again. “Anyways, before you get to weeding or watering the garden, be sure that you check each plant for exactly one type of vermin, the pinkish caterpillars on the peach trees and on the vegetable plants. I would have had pest control supplies for you, but the last gardener ran off with all of that, so if you find those insects, just set them outside the greenhouse for now. The pest control force will deal with them later-”

A semi-distant buzzing interrupts Eric’s train of thought. “Excuse me for a moment. It’s a business call.”

Eric walks out of the dining room, leaving Tia alone with his mother.

Eric’s mother taps the wooden table to get Tia’s attention, and Tia’s attention shifts as predicted.

“Excuse Eric’s resistance to properly introducing me.” The woman says before a pause. “I’m Laura, the old woman of the house!”

Tia chuckles at Laura’s statement for a moment before having the thought of that reaction being impolite. Her expression snaps from joy to embarrassment within a moment, and Laura catches on to that.

“Oh, there is no embarrassment about it, Tia! I have accepted my role here, and it has been that way for a while.”

Tia nods. “Got it, mam!”

Laura smiles. “Anyways, I want to tell you about this one caveat about the garden…” 

Tia hears Eric’s footsteps begin to tap back towards the dining room, but continues to listen to Laura.

“... At the heart of the green house, there is a big tree that is hollow on the inside, and based on reports from the previous gardener, there was an earth elemental living there.”

Eric stops as soon as he hears his mom’s comment and puts on an unamused look. “Mom, there is no spot for myth-making at our estate.” Eric scowls. “Wild magic is a farce anyways…”

Tia’s eyes momentarily widen in surprise. She thought Eric had more tact than that…

After the silence begins to outwear its welcome, Eric pipes up.

“To get back on track, Lady Tia will begin her duties in the garden very-”

The buzzing of the magitech phone two rooms out yet again interrupts Eric.

“That blasted-” Eric interrupts himself for a change. “My mother will show you to the greenhouse, Lady Tia. I have yet another business call to attend to.”

Laura nods and gestures for her son to leave. Eric obeys, and speedwalks back to his office. Laura waits to hear Eric pick up the phone before she gets up from her seat.

Laura makes eye contact with Tia before gesturing for her to follow. Tia obeys, gets up from her seat, and follows Laura out to the back door.

Still on Eric’s property but disconnected from the house they just left is where Eric’s greenhouse is. The house and the greenhouse have a simple path connecting the two structures and in a similar style to the path that led from the front gate to the house’s main entrance.

Laura opens the greenhouse’s door and allows Tia past her. Tia steps into the sealed garden ahead of Laura and gets to take in the interior for the first time. From what Tia can gather, the somewhat clouded glass forms most of the building between the supports, and all of those supports converge into the central rim of a circular gap in the ceiling. Just below that circular gap is where a grand tree sits, equipped with large, twisting roots, and leaves reaching higher than the roof of the greenhouse. The circle of path around the tree forms a gap between the tree and the two other zones of greenery to the left and right of the central tree. 

Laura taps Tia on the shoulder before Tia completely loses herself in marvelling at the garden she signed up to tend. Tia snaps to attention nearly instantly as Laura begins to speak.

“Anyways, you have a job to do! Bugs, then weeding, then watering, got it Tia?”

Tia puts a thumb in the air. “Gotcha, Laura! I’ll do my best!”

Laura smiles and waves at Tia before exiting the greenhouse and closing the door behind her. Tia then locates the supply shed, puts on the provided work gloves, and assembles the gear needed to get this job done.

The sun has migrated from its position in the late afternoon to near the horizon. In roughly two hours, Tia’s managed to get done with everything that Eric mentioned. To clear the aforementioned caterpillars, she grabbed a slightly worn vegetable sack and started carefully setting the caterpillars into the sack as she walked around the interior of the greenhouse before having tossed them out of said greenhouse. Tia then plucked every weed she could find before dousing every plant with an appropriate amount of water. Tia starts packing away the equipment she used back into their respective compartments in the supply shed.

As she pulls off the work gloves she used for the day and closes the supply shed, Tia is hit with a sudden thought. She was so caught up in the work that she nearly let her curiosity about the supposedly hollow tree slip her mind.

To satisfy her curiosity, Tia walks up to the tree in the center and begins looking for any type of gap in the wood, and within several moments, Tia finds a gap in the wood large enough to enter so long as she ducks under the top of it. Tia considers her options before deciding to duck into the tree, finding a comfortably sized natural room on the inside.

Tia takes a few more steps inside and nearly trips over an odd pile of earth in the direct center of the room. After catching herself, the sturdier bits within this earthen pile begin to glow with a greenish energy and begin to form into a less piled shape.

 Ill prepared for a happening of this nature, Tia falls backwards from surprise without sustaining too much damage from the fall itself. The gardener simply watches as the earthy pile fully forms into a meter-and-some-change-tall humanoid form with its back facing Tia.

After taking a moment to gain their bearing, the earthy humanoid turns towards Tia and takes two steps towards the gardener. In what would be the facial area of the earthen humanoid sits two polygonal near spheres, both glowing with the same green energy present elsewhere in the humanoid’s form.

Tia, in spite of her surprise, shyly waves to the humanoid.

The humanoid’s face lights up. “You aren’t offended by me?”

Tia wipes the surprise from her face. “Duh!”

“How so???” The humanoid says, utterly boggled.

Tia sits up as she continues. “As far as I can tell, you’re just another person to chat with even with the magic you’ve got in ya! You’ve gotta have some stories of this place, right?”

The earthy elemental, still taken aback by Tia’s kind reception, takes a moment to regain their bearing. “... Of course I do.” The elemental briefly pauses before speaking again. “Tia was your name?”

“Yep! What do you go by?”

“... I go by Gaia. Feminine pronouns please.”

Tia smiles. “Gotcha! I wanna ask how ya ended up here if that’s alright.”

Gaia softly glows as she orients her train of thought. “The short of it is that what became Laura's estate was my birthplace long ago. The structures here were quite literally built around my wooden home.”

Tia tilts her head with a hint of confusion.

“The one we are currently sitting in, Tia.”

“Oh. Gotcha.”

Gaia takes a seat herself before continuing to speak. “I’ve been helping tend the garden since the last gardener left, but Laura is the only one who enjoys my presence…”

Tia perks up. “I mean, I enjoy your time! Heck, if I became a frequent here, that’d be the perfect excuse to keep sayin’ hey to ya!”

Gaia chuckles. “Fair enough.” Gaia’s glowing spots dim as she starts to lament. “But still, it’s a shame that a lot of this area is unkind to those attuned to wild magic…”

Tia slightly frowns for a moment before putting on a hopeful affectation. “As far as I know, more hands workin’ on the garden, the more that gets done, no matter the background!”

Gaia’s green glow brightens at the sound of Tia’s words. “Thanks again, Tia.”

Tia and Gaia both hear a disturbance outside the tree. Tia instantly recognizes it as her magitech phone’s notification noise, whereas Gaia senses the magical signature emanating from the device without the intended context.

Tia gets up in an instant. “Oh gosh! That’s my cue, I’ve gotta go…”

Gaia softly waves one arm at Tia. “Understood. Good luck!”

Tia smiles in response to Gaia before turning towards the tree’s exit. She begins to leave before speaking yet again. “See ya again sometime!”

Tia bolts out of the central tree in the greenhouse and towards the supply shed, where she left her phone. Once there, Tia hastily grabs the phone and realizes that she has missed several notifications in the interim, and wisely decides to zip back towards the house to sign off on today's work. The trek from the greenhouse to the house leaves Tia with exactly one thought: She should come here again.

[rawrmeansilyindinosawr]

SUNMER IS OVER N IM. WORRIED AB KORN KID

house of YAS had a end of summer Block Pawty n yr frwend tells u to meet him in front of the bus and that his only descriptor in the masses of people is dhat he's a v" tall black stranger. " I find him ofc then we dance on tha stage n get free flowerz n then go to tha subway to do lines of K on the floor then a white man stops us n asks us for some then i give stingy lines for the $20 he gave me cuz i don't get paid til lik end of the month or something.

iknewSummer wuz over when we held each other when we got out of the station n k holed in an intersection n felt the sweat from our bodies glisten in the light the sun n ate artichoke pizza til we called ubers behind each otherrzz backs .

Always luv n support ur fwendzz dreams by manifesting them via thrusting ur thussy in 4/4 time . im Waiting for my soulmate but it's taking forever so im passing the nitez inhaling cough drops like candy in front of tha bk bridge on a tues nite doin k w yr french fwend saying "CWaSaaaaint "rly loud n peeing together streams on tha rawks n trading shoes n telling stories of bad dates. I fukin fell on the rawks but steve maddin is kewl as fuk!!!!!

Startet my new job n i luv it. My kiddos r routy as hell n come from diff places in life but all love fashion n drawing n self expression!!! It's so kute n teaching them techniques in sewing n threading n bookmaking via zines ... so fulfilling n my headquarterz isrite nxt to tha Crythtsal meth i mean chystler building in midtown. It v profeshhh and i still rly hope my boss doesn't find my tumblr or ig cuz It will prob b it for moi. >:[[

Tired of ppl askin meh for threesomes n my tauruskink. saw a guy walkin around with his chiuaua on his shoulderzz N a lady eatin an avocado lik an apple n played the staring game with a squirrel at rockaway Beach. he won. It's my BDAAYYYY week!!!! I kant believe it's been an entire yr since my last bday!!!!!!!!!! Why r birfdayz a yr apart????? moi fam in town so i booked dem what i thought was a chil Airbnb near meh but dis bitch was fuckkn INSANE also the airbnB had asbestos in the ceiling and blood stains on the sheetz n on the floor!!!!!!!!!! Rehousing them took a min i searched for lik 2 hours on my phone for hotels in the surrounding area n it wuz So fuckin expensivv but it worked out] i lowkey hihkey got triggered cuz meh first roomie situation wuz TERIBLe. one of my roommates lik fell in love w me and wrote me a letter saying how he's the 2nd coming of jesus and im like the angel he's supposed 2 be w cuz my fav number is 12 ????????? ? ?? Also he asked for the letter back by knocking on my door at like 6am and burning it rite in front of me which was violent behavior n scary .i obv don't live there anymore but i rly still prefer living alone n am tryna save up for dat Asap back in my digital camera era n im tempted to bring fb albums back. Pix from dis week of my kute frwendz and me ft. cobra snake merch. Mark says i'm a superstar!!!!!!

i drove to filly 2 visit my fwend kenz n eat spicy tuna guac n go to a concert. Lizzy Mxalpine is sooo hot. But i wonder who hurt her cuz like …??????? Omg.

Also dere was an extrmtly drunk bitch behind my sis at tha concert who kept bumping into every1 n it was so annoying but also same. first time i went to philly wuz when i wuz 17 to share my poetry for the NAACP ni saw some1 get hit by a car n tht was kinda it for me 2 luv dat city. I luv luv luv filly. But im sry those cheesesteaks are

1. not Steaks fillt with cheeze.

2. Not good sandwiches enough to be called

sandwiches.

3. Just Meat with cheeze in between some stale grains.

i yam studying how to b an enneagram coach so i could teach classes n empower ppl to continue to find themselves n their path!!!! i yam tryna also Recruit more kiddos for the fashion workshop nxtmonth for my job!!! Who want meh to teach ur babies how to sew n make cool clothes!!!!!! My bday party wuz lit, n i boofed 4 my 25th. Its actually a V Vv v v v hard procedure n moi fwendzz said to clench real rite n hold it there til u khole but tbh i don't rly think idid it rite n i was warned ab the K squirts if i didn't clench rite n i wuz walkin around my own bday party w a wet butt. Butt itz ok cuz i luv science n i now hav a clear eyes Ketamine solution i kan boof myself when im alone. Or when im not alone. RAWR XD.

saw moi tumblr friend n scorpio crush n got kissed by my enemy/old lover/situation-ship n only lost $250 mayb gettin asked 4 600 more on top of datttttttt and l0st my ID as collateral at tha bar LOOK IM SRTYY BUT $1600 MINIMUM IZ LIKE NOT ACHIEVABLE N ITZ NOT MY FAULT LIKE 10 -20 PpL bailed. but im NEVEr hosting my own bday part EVERRR again cuz what the fuking FOOK that wasSTRESSFULZ.

IM HIGH AS SHIT ON AN ADDERL RUNNING AROUND TARGET N MY MUM KANNT KATCH ME EVEN IF SHE TRIED HAHHAHAMAHWAHAHA.

i Posted this super long ig caption w this hawt pic ofmeh wearing tiffs clothes of my reflectionzz moving Forward w nyfw/fashion industry / MODELING..

basically said Fuk it to it and knew id get a bunch of bookingzz after i posted tht shit cuz fashion industry wants ppl tht r like me - rebellious n new n edgy? But at the same time ostracize ppl like meh. Sooi just made a public statement tht i rly don't Give aflying fuk and now i got designers from columbia asking me to walk for their show in nyc in oct... I still don't kno but i finally got a call bak from callen lourde sayin they will accept me as a new patient starting 10/19 n i kant wait to spill all my mental fuckin illness on these professionalzz cuz it's ab time i get back to talkin ab y dissociation n retail therapy N adderal r my fav act of self kare AT M. speaking of soulmatezz do u ever get dat feelin around someon3 u don't know but u feel like u know them?? but u don't. n tht just makes u more curious ab them cuz it's rly an intriguing magnetic pull but ur also lik completely afraid of rejection n kno dat dating u would look like apologizing constantly n feeling avoidant n scared a lot of the timezzz so0000 Ya ima get fixed. my goals this yr before i turn 26 r to deeply invest in my private life n work on BOUNDARIEZZZ.

dating shuld b taken slowly n i don't wanna hav to give a lot of myself or feel the need to share everything at once to build a connection initially. everythin tht lasts long is a slow process Ni rly am in a better mental space w tht. But learning to express my needzz is important n i need to do dat in every relationship i hav.. I hav a lot of pain surrounding my familv n past as well as new trauma within the last 3 months.

so i need to rly unpack it . It's crZi how i thought i could heal by healing others, and how needing each other / community is healing but also in wayzzi am resentful now and emotionally drained be of it? i am not the giving tree N i need to acknowledge tht just bc i set boundaries w ppl it does not mean i will «lose my charm" or be rejected by Ppl or not be fully seen as "kind" or worthwhile.

EVERY1 shuld try to b trans at least ONCE in their lifetime n also if ur hawt u kill laternfliezz by Stomping on them three timez AT DA VERY LEASTTT. i am so000o worried ab corn kid too. HE JUST WANTS A NORMAL LIFE NOW! leave Him ALONE!!!!!!

i think mY publisher is mad at me and I keep having tha craziest diarrhea. Wish meh luck this week teaching in these conditionzz n still tryna b tha hottest reincarnation of devon Aoki. Also i hav been sleeping w music on n i woke up to yoke lore "beige"n tha lyrics fukin made me cry n masturbate .

"Tell me something I don't know

And lead me to the place where no one ever goes

Let me go under your skin

Let me find the demons that drive those heavenly

limbs

You know you're beautiful

But that ain't half the gold treasure in your soul what

you got 'cause I want it all

With your fingers in my mouth, I fail to see your faults

So please don't let me fall

So please don't let me fall

And I think we'd survive in the wild

We would eat plants and roots and dream about

electric fans"

Bless up, west side til I die, U kno i keep dat thang on me (bottle of Q pee mayo in my hello kitty tote bag) , taylor swift U Belong With Me listener on repeat cuz i'm a virgin again..... I feel so untouched ni want u so much tht i just kant resist u It's not enough to say dat i miss u, 0o 0o la la lalalLallalLalalLlalallalalaa im so sad i mised rolling loud.

xxxx renny :-[

[sashi-ya]

Ch. 4 ~ NSFW ~ Trafalgar Law x F! Maid! Reader ~ A Dangerous Attraction.

AU : Mafia AU. Mafia boss Law. He IS a murderer.

TW: BLOOD. Mafia & murderers. Graphic depictions of violence. Smut. Explicit. Making love. Vaginal sex. Impregnation. Self harm. Marks, bites. Mental health issues. Trauma. Fluff. Angst.

WC: 4.2K

Chapters: one ; two; three; four; five; final

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33273136

Tag list: @rivvd-art ; @chocokaylarobin ; @fantasyfairysworld ♥

“Law!!”

“Name-ya…”

Inked fingers squeezing around your wrist, your body hanging into the void. You try to climb, but little rocks fall every time you try to use your feet to push yourself up. The desperation and Law is simply not moving, he is just holding you. If he wanted, he could let go of you and you would fall instantly. If he wanted, he could kill you and no one would know. If he wanted…

“Law! Pull me up!” you shout, with tears in your eyes. He is not listening; Law is completely frozen. His eyes opened wide; he doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breathe. His jaw muscles are clenched. Your arm hurts, the only thing that is keeping you alive is Law grabbing you.

“Law don’t let me fall. Save me…” you beg with tears sprouting from your eyes. “LAW!!!” you shout. The time passes so slowly, so painfully scary.

Suddenly he blinks quickly and pushes you up. Your body falls over his, you are safe now. Law hugs you; he starts crying. Your head rests over his chest, but quickly try to release yourself from his arms. “Let me go!” you shout, in distress.

Law stops hugging you and you stand up, trembling, still crying. You take your hand to your wrist, massaging the fingertips marks he has left over your skin. “I’m… you don’t understand. I didn’t…” he tries to tell you, but he fails as he stutters nervously.

“I wanna go home. My home” you tell him and start walking back through the path. You almost run; you can feel him walking behind you. Law is sobbing, he can’t stop crying. You hear some scratching noises, but you decide not to look back. If you dared to even look at him, you’ll pity him and forgive what just happened.

But something stops you, you hear a loud noise and a whining. A painful whining. You turn around, and there is Law, kneeling on the ground, right arm bleeding from the scratches he has made on himself, swollen eyes from all the crying. He keeps violently scratching his skin, and he can’t stop.

“What the hell?!” you shout and run to him. You crunch next to him and grab his arm, “Stop doing that. You are hurting yourself”. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it…” he says repeatedly. “Stop, please. You are bleeding” you tell him, holding his arm. He puts his forehead over your chest imploring forgiveness. Your shirt gets damp by his tears. A mafia boss crying like this, so weak…

“Why didn’t you pull me up instantly, Law?” you ask all of a sudden. You know that whatever he says won’t stop you from running away from him, but that question escapes your mouth unintentionally. “I… I’m… my dad. My uncle…” he stutters. “What happened?” you ask. “My uncle… killed my dad. Doflamingo pushed him by the same hill. I was in the car looking at everything. My uncle said my dad slipped away because he was clumsy, but he didn’t. He pushed him. And I saw everything. And didn’t say anything, I was afraid. My… dad…I was seven”. And suddenly everything makes sense… he was facing his trauma, but he never let you fall. He saved you… once again.

You hug him so close, poor thing. You caress his black hair, rocking him back and forth. “It’s ok, it’s ok…” you repeat. A few minutes after he stops crying, “I’m sorry” he says, nuzzled on your chest.

“It’s ok, Law…”

But you can’t take this anymore. You are going to end up dying if you stay next to him. You definitely are.

Both walk back to the cabin, you start packing your stuff leaving only the maid costume over the big, still undone, bed. Sitting on the mattress you take out the photo of your family and look at it. In the photo you see your sisters, your mom and you in your father’s arms. It’s your birthday. Behind, a tall man running with a little boy wearing a white hat. You don’t really remember their faces. You only remember that man was your father’s partner. Both policemen. They were fighting against organised crime. After your dad was shot, you never hear anything else from his partner, nor the little kid. But you keep focusing on your family, and those happy times. You were smiling so joyfully, so naive…

You hear the surgeon at the door, and quickly put the photo on your pocket. There is no way you let a mafia boss see the face of your family members. It’s just too risky...

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” asks Law, now with a white bandage around his scratched arm. “I am sure, please take me back to my apartment” you tell him. “(Name)-ya, please, stay at my house. I promise I won’t talk to you” he says, tears building up in his eyes. But you remain strong. “Please…I need time to be on my own” you tell him as if you were begging him to stop insisting. You don’t know how much you are gonna go without succumbing to the dangerous attraction he represents to you.

“At least let me keep you safe, I won’t visit you, I won’t call you. But please, stay in one of my apartments. I beg you” he finally says, approaching you. You back up instantly, somehow him touching you, scares you.

���Fine” you finally accept. He is right, if you dare to come back to that apartment you might be in danger. Law eyes sparkle, he breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, thank you so much” he says, approaching you once again as he was trying to hug you.

“Stop. Don’t touch me” you command. He freezes right away, the smile in his face is gone once again. “I’m sorry, I’ll be in the car waiting for you” he says, crestfallen and walks away. Your heart aches at him leaving the door, but you know too well this is the best decision you could have taken.

Once everything is set, and you are ready, you go downstairs. You give a last peek to the cabin, the place where Law and you let your passions go wild for the first time… a place where he almost chokes you to death… Closing the door behind you, you were sure this was the last time you would ever be in this place.

Opening the door of that amazing black car, you throw your bag on the backseat and sit next to Law. He is wearing black shades, tears falling through his cheeks. He is not speaking; he swallows and hits the gas. You don’t dare to look at him, so your head is turned towards the window. The magnificent forest, nature, a place where you’ve been the happiest… and the sudden memories of you almost losing your life for the second time…

No more than an hour passes, and you are already on the highway. The radio makes the painful silence a little less uncomfortable. A slowed cover of “We Found Love” by Rihanna playing.

“As your shadow crosses mine, what it takes to come alive.

It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny. But I've gotta let it go.

We found love in a hopeless place…

Shine a light through an open door. Love and life I will divide.

Turn away 'cause I need you more”

“Tsk…” you express. “Hum?” he asks. “Nothing…”. There was no interaction, nothing. Law’s cheeks damped. Nose red from all the crying.

“(Name)-ya… would you prefer the 6th or the 8th floor?” he asks, sniffling. “Whatever you want, it’s ok for me either way” you tell him, feeling ashamed. You are leaving him, but still living on his property… this shouldn’t happen. “Ok… Then the 8th floor. It has a big terrace” he tells you and touches the screen of the car.

“Bepo, Law here”

“Law, I’m Pen. Tell me”

“Oh, Penguin. Please take all the (Name)-ya’s stuff to Swallow inns, the eighth floor”.

“Yes, boss. Are you ok? You need us to take some of your stuff too?”

“Just hers… oh, don’t forget the Kia”

Law hangs up before his friend could say anything else. His voice clearly shows how much he’s been crying; he knows his friend would ask. You simply ignore everything he says, you don’t really want to hear even though he is speaking via Bluetooth.

After two hours, you arrive at a luxurious apartment complex over the beach. A big sign that says “Swallow Inn” announces that this is the place you are gonna be living from now on. “Damn” you think, how the fuck your life changed so much that you ended up living in such a place…

“(Name)-ya, this is the place where the apartment is located. Our… your parking spot is the number 18” he informs you. “Uhm, ok…” you say, because you don’t even have a bicycle to park in there, but hey, thanks for the information. But, when you arrive at the said parking spot, a little black car is parked there. “Nice, someone parked on your spot” you say, sarcastically.

“It’s yours…” he says. “What? No” you categorically express. “Please, accept it. This place is far from the city, and there are no bus stops nearby. Please” he insists. “Ok…” you accept, even though you are sure you are not gonna use that car.

Law takes your stuff from the backseat and tells you to follow him inside. The place is modern, everything is clean, luxurious, white, pure. “Eighth floor” he says and presses the little 8th button of the elevator and a code. “Remember, you should enter this number so you can enter home, ok?”. You don’t speak, and just nod.

The doors open inside the apartment, again everything is so white and pure. Your stuff is already in place. Big windows show the immense sea ahead. Everything is perfect, so for rich people. “Law, this place is amazing. You sure you want me to live here?” you ask.

Law turns around, takes his sunglasses off. Swollen red eyes, more dark circles than ever. He fixes his grey irises on yours. “I’d rather you live with me. But this is the best second option I have to keep you safe”. You keep looking at him, you can’t take your eyes off him. It hurts so much, even more than the bruises on your wrist, on your neck… your heart shouts “stay with me”; but your head says no… no, or you are gonna end up dying.

“By the way, this is your phone. I recommend you use this one, it’s safer. Not for me, but for you” he says, lending you a mobile phone that’s over the breakfast nook. “Thanks” you nod and your fingers graze when gabbing the phone. How hard is this…

“Well, I know you want me to go, but, if you ever need me… just, call me. Ok?” says Law, taking his hand to your cheek, but quickly stopping himself. “Wait” you say and grab his hand to your face. He gasps but grazes your skin. You close your eyes and let your head rest over his palm for a moment.

“Thank you, Law… Give me some time, please” you whisper. “I’ll be waiting for you…” he says, and a few moments later he is gone. The elevator doors close, and your legs finally turn weak. You fall on your knees. You haven’t cried until now, and now you do. Tears won’t stop falling from your eyes to the marbled floor.

“Law…”

----

After all your tears have dry, you start looking around the apartment. Your bedroom is bigger than your ex-house. The bed looks just as the one Law has in his room. Satin sheets and white fluffy covers.

A wardrobe full of your clothes, old and some new outfits they bought you from the finest brands. And next to your clothes, men's ones. “Are these Law’s?”.

You can’t help but take one of his t shirts. You choose a yellow one, with black sleeves. “It has his smell…” you say, while taking the cloth to your nose. “I don’t think he would mind if I use it…” you say and put the shirt on. It has some kind of a smiley face stamped on it, and you wonder what it means.

The night comes, and your stomach growls. The fridge is full of ingredients, Law’s subordinates are so efficient. You cook a vegetable wok that you devour right away. The place is way too big for you, but it is what it is.

You inspect the new phone he gave you, such modern and pretty. You decide to pass all your photos from your old one to it. Same as the numbers. “I should call mum…” you think, remembering about the money. Where are you going to find any money to send them? “I can’t go back to the old bar; I’ll search for work tomorrow”.

“Hi, mum?”

“Darling!! I’ve been calling you, but you don’t seem to pick up. Is everything alright? Why are you calling from a private number?”

“It’s my new phone, I don’t know how to take it off. I will ask a friend to help me, and I’ll send you my number mum. Don’t worry” you lie. “How are you? How are the girls?

“Fine baby, but are you alright? You sound so sad…”

“I’m fine mum!! I moved! I will send you the address via text, ok? You should come someday! I have a sea view now!!” You act all excited, just for her not to worry, but moms know better…

“If you need mum, come spend some days with us darling. Ok?”

“Yes mum, I’m ok. I’ll be visiting you soon!” You lie once again, choking back tears.

The conversation is soon over, and after hanging up, tears run free. “I hate lying to my mum. Damn it. Damn Law…” you grunt, while searching for the picture of your family on your pocket.

“Where the fuck…?” You say, while searching for it desperately in your jean’s pockets. No sign of the photo, and you start to panic. The last photo you have with your dad, your seventh birthday…

“Don’t tell me I lost it, please!!!” You shout and start to look for it everywhere. Every place, every square. You can’t stop crying. You just can’t… something so precious to you.

“That’s what happens when you hang with the mafia… karma” you tell yourself before falling asleep, crying.

You wake up several times during the night, as nightmares invade your dreams. Law’s scratched arms, his eyes, the feeling of falling into the void. The day the police came to your house to tell your family, someone killed your dad. The way Law choked you… the way his hands were around your neck, the way his hips moved in and out of you, the way his kisses make you feel…

“Stop right there, (Name)” you say to yourself looking at the ceiling. How can you feel horny, huh? Are you crazy? “What’s wrong with me…?”. You know what’s wrong, of course you do. You are in love with Law and can’t deny it anymore. Your body misses him, you miss his scent, you are using his damn shirt to bed. You miss him so much; you are hugging a pillow pretending it is him.

Standing up from bed, you look through the big window of your room. The sea seems calm, sun is peeking from the horizon, still lazily resting until dawn. You sigh and say, “I fucking miss you… why aren’t you here?”.

Ding, Dong…

The sophisticated sound of the doorbell resonates all over the loft. “Fuck” you think, they’ve found you… Am I in danger? Should I call Law? Bepo? You tremble and walk towards the intercom.

Ding, Dong…

“Fuck” … you slowly pick up the phone of the intercom, and the little screen next to it turns on. The image of Law, a distressed Law appears. “What the fuck? I told him to give me some space…” you think, but he signs desperately for you to open.

“Law, what are you doing here?” You ask via the phone.

“Open, please, I have something important to show and tell you, I didn’t want to enter with my code” he says and shows a little square paper. Your most precious treasure, your family photo. You widen your eyes, “enter the code, come on”.

A minute passes and the door of the inside elevator opens. Law is standing right there; he looks like a mess. This must be the third night he hasn’t slept.

“Can I?” He asks for permission to even step into your -his- apartment. “Come in. Do you have my pic?” You ask ignoring the fact of wearing his shirt and only that over your body.

“Yes, but… I need to show you something about it” Law says, while looking at you up and down with a sweet expression. “Let’s sit, this is important” he insists. So, both of you sit on the couch. Law takes your photo out of his jacket pocket and puts it over the coffee table. “This is your photo, right?” He asks. “Yes, thank you!! Where was it?” You tell, but before you could take it, he stops your arm. “Wait… it was over the car seat. But, please, look at this…” he says and puts another photo next to it.

“L-Law…”

“I didn’t know, I promise”

“It can’t be, was your dad…?

“Yes, it was” …

Both of you start crying, recognizing how linked both of you are…

Law takes his finger to your cheek, wiping a single tear. You do the same, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “Don’t…” you tell him, and you two hug. Pressing your bodies, you find the comfort, the warmth of home. That feeling you only experience when you know you are safe…

Your faces so close, your eyes fixed. The sun slowly rising, invading the place with lilac and orangey tones. Law is fighting not to kiss you, and you frankly too.

“Fuck it” you whisper and plant a sweet kiss over his lips. And that’s the spark you two needed to become fire. You set all your zipper free, no more clothes. You sit over his lap, both kissing so passionately, tongues playing with each other’s. Law cries, you cry. But you two smile pressing your foreheads.

You see how the scratches on his arm became scars already. You grab his arm and kiss softly over each wound. “Don’t do this ever again, please. If you have the need, talk to me, tell me, I’ll be there to help you…” you tell him, looking straight into his soul. Poor thing…

“I missed you” he says. “I missed you, too” you tell him. Even if you haven’t seen each other for some hours, your souls missed each other so much. You kiss him so relieved… your head keeps telling you stop, until the arousal drowns every single sign of reason.

Law gabs your thighs and stands up, carrying you to the bed. He softly puts you over the mattress, and he settles over your body. Gently kissing your neck, Law takes his time. His hands grazing your breasts so softly. “I want to make sweet love to you, I want to be gentle, I want it slow” he says, because he doesn’t want to hurt you. You smile and take your hands to his face. “Do it slow and do it faster. Do it gentle, and do it rough…make love to me, Law” you tell him.

His “death” hands travel from your neck to your waist, and even lower. His fingers buried on your hips as his mouth reaches your sex. “Spread, babe” he asks with a soft tone. You do it right away. “Good girl, now put your legs over my shoulders”. And so, you do.

Law’s mouth attacks your core, licking, tasting, devouring your juices. He little by little kneels on the bed, pushing you up. Your legs are still over his shoulders, he has better access to your core as he keeps giving you the best oral sex you ever experienced. You grab the sheets, pull from them, as your climax begins to arrive. Law presses your lower belly, while he sucks your clit. “Come on, come for me” he says, muzzled by your anatomy.

You are about to burst, and Law penetrates you with his middle finger and ring finger. The licking, the pressure, the fingering… you come, squirting, bathing his whole torso with your juices, as they come out with such pressure Law is not able to receive it all with his mouth.

“Such a good girl” he says, letting your legs over the mattress. You are panting, that position somehow made everything better… “L-Law…?” you mumble, still trembling from the orgasm you just had.

“What, baby?” He asks while wiping the rest of your climax off his chin with the back of his hand. “Don’t you ever stop fucking me like this” you tell him, so naturally, so unplanned.

“I won't, I won't ever stop”.

Law lays in bed, next to him, enjoying how you come back to normal, and the blushed on your cheeks that screams how good your orgasm felt. But he wants more, and of course, you too.

“Come here” he says and helps you to turn around. He is spooning you; you feel his hard member over your glutes. Law passes his right arm under your neck, and the left one reaches your left nipple. He pinches it, twists it. Law takes his index to your mouth and makes you suck it. “Wet it real good” he commands. Your teeth graze the E tattooed on his finger while sucking it so sexily.

The same finger, shiny from your saliva, is now tracing circles again over your nipple. You moan, it feels so good. He gropes you with his dick, your back feels the warmth of his inked chest. You push your ass against his member, trapping it in between both cheeks. Law grunts, and moves up and down, frotting his hard shaft over your rear entrance.

Your hand reaches for the surgeon’s hip. You carve your nails on his skin, pulling you even closer to you.

“Fuck me, fuck me now”. “If that’s what you want…” he says, while he bites your neck. The hand that was playing with your nipple now grabs his dick. He aligns it with your entrance, lubricating the tip with your dripping arousal. He slaps the shaft against your labia, forming strings of precum mixed with your juices.

His gland playfully hits your clit, and you squirm with it. But you burn with the need of being penetrated, filled by him. “I want you inside, please” you beg. “You want me inside? How much do you want it?” Law says pressing his mouth against your cheek, his beard grazing your skin. “Fill me up, I want it so bad. Fuck me, now…” you whine.

“Ok, my darling. Just because my shirt suits you so well” he says and kissing the side of your mouth he penetrates you so slow, little by little stretching your walls. The feeling of the tip going in and out, without fully penetrating you deep, sends you to heaven as it grazes your g spot. You can only whine his name, feeling as he gradually goes deeper, in and out.

You can feel Law’s wicked smile over your cheek as he finally penetrates you to the deepest point he can reach. Your walls clench around his member as he speeds up the pace. “Babe, you feel so good, so tight” he moans in your ear. The sound of his voice could kill you if it was meant for it.

You moan soundly, sure the neighbours could hear you, but unable to hold back as Law is now fucking you mercilessly. Soon the climax road is taken, and you are sure getting to it.

“I want to see your face while you come” Law says, and quickly turns you around. Classic missionary position, the most perfect man over you, his whole anatomy, sweating, panting.

Law puts your arms up your head, grabbing your wrists together. His body lean over you while he pounds into you, violent, deliciously thrusts. The way the muscles of his torso tightens when his hips move in and out are art, the finest piece of art you have ever seen.

And inevitably, both of you reach orgasms. This time, Law focused on your face, he didn’t bite his lip, he didn’t choke you, he didn’t lose track of reality. Law this time was being driven by love, by the only need of loving you, of making you happy… of not losing you.

You come, and so does he. Law fills you with his creamy seed. He collapses over you, still with his dick inside you, pushing his milk deep in you. Returning his breathing back to normal, he whispers into your ear “I think I’m still in love with you”.

“Still? What do you mean?” You ask, confused...

CH.5

[jovialluminaryalpaca]

True Beauty | Little by Little | Han Seojun x Kang Soojin fanfic series | part 2

Part 1 , Part 3

Hey, hey, I hope y'all are doing good, this will probably be a 3 part series and I hope I'll wrap it up by the next part. Anyhow, I hope y'all will like this part, don't forget to leave a like and reblog and feel free to share your views via ask or text, thank you 💛

No major warnings, very slight cursing (not edited)

Soojin sighed as she looked at her phone and waited for Seojun to come out of the studio. She was seated on one of the tables in the cafeteria at Move Entertainment. She tapped her feet impatiently as she sat there, it had been 2 days since Seojun witnessed her breakdown and decided to give her space to recover like he said. She felt embarrassed, not because she ruined one of his favourite jackets with her tears but because media had caught him holding her hand on a busy sidewalk that night. There were numerous stories and rumours around them and she was bombarded with calls from Jugyeong and Soo ah. She decided to ignore those calls because she knew they will only ask her questions she didn't wanna answer especially when she was recovering from her father's visit and her realisation of having feelings for Seojun.

If it was in her hands, she would've continued to avoid Seojun, but she had to come to the office to clear the rumours and make a statement that Seojun was just her friend and he was helping her out. It hurt her to say something like that but she couldn't really do anything about it, it was for Seojun's good and she knew that one sided love was all that was written in her fate.

In the past two days, she couldn't help but wonder when was it that it happened? When was the moment she started getting attached to Seojun and was dumb enough to not realise it? Was it when he made fun of her need to set everything in an order or was it when they bickered over almost any topic they could find? Was it when he called her everytime he was free and they would go to her favourite restaurant go grab a meal or was it when he stayed up late and planned a birthday surprise for a kid by performing a little concert at the orphanage the kid stayed in and the one her company helped? Was it when he casually called her pretty and bossy at the same time or was it when he apologized to her for calling her a piece of trash?

She remembered the time he did.

It was one of those nights, he walked her home after they hung out. They were both laughing at how a random old woman on the road mistook Seojun to be her grandson and dragged both of them along with her to come with her and have some dinner or tea at her place. Neither of them had the heart to refuse the old woman and it clearly looked like she missed her young grandson, so they decided to join her and much to their dismay, her real son approached them and apologised for the inconvenience she caused, she apologised and both of them told her it was not much of a big deal.

"Ya. Do you think we would've got free dinner if her son didn't come?" He asked her.

"Really? You are thinking about dinner? Oh My God." She exclaimed as he burst into laughter.

"No, no, no, I mean, food is everything you know." He said as she chuckled.

"You are such a goofball, I swear." She responded as he smiled at her. They both kept walking till they reached her apartment, they always took the route which less crowded and where he could freely roam without the mask.

"Next time, don't remove your mask in public, otherwise some other grandma will make you her grandson." She said as she nudged him.

He rolled his eyes but eventually laughed it off and shook his head as they finally reached her apartment.

"Don't worry, I won't." He replied as she nodded.

"Get home safe and try to stay as far as possible from groups of girls." She said as he smiled.

"Why? Are you jealous?" He asked as she laughed at his stupid question.

"No, because I want you to stay alive and not choke yourself to death when you get smothered by thousands of girls." She said as a matter of fact and he simply shook his head and she shrugged it off.

"Ya, Kang Soojin." He said as she looked at him.

"I'm sorry." He said out of nowhere and she looked at him blankly.

Why was he apologising to her?

"For what?" She asked as she studied his expression.

"I'm sorry for being a jerk to you back in school and for calling all those awful things." He said as she opened her mouth to say something but closed it back again.

"I know it's out of nowhere, but I just felt like I should apologise, so I did." He continued as she looked at him wordlessly.

Something about his apology was sincere even when she knew what she did was worth way worse than the words he chose to call her back then. Honestly, she deserved those words to be slapped on her and there was no justification for what she did except for it being a mean of escape which she found in Suho back then but she didn't anymore when she realized that what she did led to loosing one thing she cherished so dearly, her friendship with everyone including Suho.

"Why are you apologising? I deserved it." She said and scoffed at herself.

"Maybe, that version of you did, but I wanted to apologise to this version of you and not let her hold on to what I said back then." He explained as she looked at him with a smile.

"You don't have anything to apologise for, it's all in the past, it's like a closed back, I've moved past it, those words don't bother me that much anymore but it's the guilt that bothers me, it's always there whenever I'm around Jugyeong." She replied as he looked at her with a slight frown.

"Suho wasn't worth all that, honestly." He added as she chuckled.

"Yeah." She said as he looked at her and she looked back at him. There was just silence as they looked at each other.

"Don't you have rehearsals tomorrow for your concert?" She cleared her throat and asked him, his eyes widened as he remembered the rehearsal timings for the next day.

"Oh, no, I do. Oh, no, no. Heegyeong is gonna kill me if I don't reach the studio on time. I'll see you this weekend?" He asked as he checked his pocket for the bus pass.

"Yeah, you will, if I don't any event or work that is." She said as he smiled.

"Good, then, I'll see you later. Good night." He said and turned around to leave.

"Ya, Han Seojun!" She called out.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Why don't get a car for yourself?" She asked as his eyes widened to realise that he was rich now and he scratched the back of his neck and looked down.

"It will save you the hustle." She continued as he nodded.

"I'll look into it." He responded and turned his back to walk ahead.

"Good Night!" She called out as he waved his hand one last time and so did she as he  walked away. She stood there as she smiled to her self wondering when will Seojun finally learn to organize himself and then walked towards the elevator.

"Soojin?" Heegyeong's voice pulled her out of the trance as she looked at her and smiled.

"Yeah. Should I come now?" She asked as Heegyeong sat beside her.

"No, don't worry, it's handled. You don't have to make a statement, we cleared it out and warned Seojun to not be so careless." She replied and looked at Soojin.

"It's not his fault. I was the one who was in a hurry. I'm sorry for this mess." She said as Heegyeong looked at her with a small smile.

"You don't have to apologise Soojin, I understand, everyone has good and bad days and it's completely okay to have them." She said as Soojin nodded.

On the other side, Han Seojun ruffled his hair as he walked out of one of the studios and looked around to find Soojin. He was glad that she was doing alright and then he felt a sudden flutter in his chest as he looked at her smile at Heegyeong. He gulped not knowing why he felt that. He stopped as he admired her from the distance and a goofy smile appeared on his face.

Honestly, he would be lying if he didn't admit that Soojin effected him, her happiness and just her presence made him happy in ways he couldn't define, at first he felt like she was more of a replacement for Jugyeong and maybe her presence acted like some kind of a rebound for him but now he was sure that she was different and unique and maybe that's why he liked her presence around him. He weirdly felt comfort in the way she scolded him when she looked at the mess he made most of the time and the times she explained what certain words and references meant in fan letters. There was another tug on his heart's strings when she smiled and turned around to look at him. He smiled as he felt a gush of flutters in his stomach and she waved at him. He wasn't a fool to not realise what these feelings were but he was reluctant to accept that he started to feel them around someone who wasn't Jugyeong.

Did he finally move on from Jugyeong?

His heart whispered a yes as he walked towards Soojin, stood in front of her and ruffled her hair and she scowled at his action and that scowl on her face as she set her hair right and the rapid beating of his heart was enough for him to know that yes, he was finally over Jugyeong and that, yes, he definitely developed feelings for his school's ex top mark securing girl.

_

"We have something to tell y'all." Jugyeong said as she tapped the table and everyone looked at her.

It was weekend after the whole mess that happened with Seojun and the media, He apologised to Soojin for not being careful and she gave him a lecture on how he should be more careful with all of this and how risky it was to expose his face especially when they are teenagers around and how no one knows what their intentions can be, some might be innocent but what if someone was looking for some revenge or was an obsessed psychopath. He couldn't help but laugh at her theories only to get a silencing glare from her. They made up irrespective of the fact that neither of them were aware about the feelings they developed for the other.

They were now seated at the same table they sat months ago in the same position but it was dinner now, Jugyeong called all of them to gather here and they did because no one wanted to hear Jugyeong get mad at them for skipping the dinner.

"Don't tell me you are pregnant." Tae hoon blurted out as Soo ah burst into laughter.

Suho just shook his head at them and observed everyone.

Jugyeong glared at Soo ah but shrugged it off eventually as Soo ah let out a nervous chuckle. Jugyeong smiled at everyone who looked at her and then put her left hand up showing the sparkling diamond ring on her ring finger.

"Suho proposed and I said yes." She exclaimed happily as Suho smiled at her and wrapped his arm around to pull her close while the girls gushed at the news. Soo ah squealed at the news with happiness and Soojin smiled at her best friend. Suho observed Seojun's reaction but much to his surprise, he didn't feel his heart clench, like all the times before and he gave them a genuine smile and clapped along with the others congratulating the pair. Suho thanked them with a smile as Soojin looked at Seojun smile and felt happy that he finally moved on from Jugyeong.

After a while, Cho rong and Tae hoon decided to go explore something which opened down the street while Suho and Seojun walked out of the restaurant to let the girls to gush over details and spend their time alone without their partners or friends.

"You like Soojin?" Suho asked Seojun as they looked at the street view. Seojun choked on his drink as Suho shook his head at him.

"What? No." He said and shrugged.

"After all these years, you must know better than lying to my face." Suho said as he observed his friend's reaction. Seojun was silent as he contemplated the idea of telling Suho and eventually gave in.

"I...I do." Seojun said after a while as he cleared his throat.

"Then, why didn't you tell her?" He asked him.

"Do you think I'm ready for another heartbreak?" He asked as Suho looked at him.

"How will you know without confessing?" Suho asked instead.

"I guess, I just know how is it when the person I like looks at me as a friend." He said and shrugged.

"Maybe she doesn't." Suho said as he turned around to look at the girls from the window.

And much to his surprise, he found Soojin throw a glance towards Seojun and it confirmed his suspicions.

"Let it be. Will you?" Seojun asked with a mixture of scowl and frown on his face.

"As you wish." Suho said as he looked at him.

"Honestly, I still can't believe that you found a girl and fell in love." Seojun said as Suho raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? Have you looked at yourself? With those death glares and eyebrow raises you give, it's hard to believe that someone fell in love with you." Seojun explained as Suho smiled at his best friend.

"You are really a dumbass." Suho said as Seojun widened his eyes.

"Who are you calling dumbass, dumbass?" He asked as Suho shrugged and decided to walk ahead.

"I asked Jugyeong to call us when they are done talking, wanna join me for a walk?" Suho asked Seojun. Seojun stopped for a while and looked at Soojin smile and talk to her friends and he couldn't help but smile at the sight, he sighed and looked at Suho who stood there waiting for his response. He could definitely use a bit of fresh air to clear his head.

"Alright. Let's go." He said and covered his face with a mask and joined Suho.

[monaisme]

Day 2: “I can’t take this anymore.”

Day 2: “I can’t take this anymore.”

“Dude? Are you sure you’re okay? Ned asked for the millionth time. “Maybe you should call Mr. Stark?”

Peter refrained from rolling his eyes, wholly aware that it would definitely aggravate the headache that hadn’t dulled since, well... Flash. He pulled his binder and Spanish textbook out of his locker. “Ned, seriously, I’m—”

“...Still a loser! Isn’t that right, Penis?”

Peter barely had a chance to brace himself before Flash was slinging his arm and the entirety of his body weight over Peter’s shoulder and laughing. “I still can’t believe you didn’t see that soccer ball coming!”

Peter shoved Flash’s arm off. “Shut up, Flash.” Peter growled. “It’s sort of hard to see something coming when it’s behind you.”

Ned’s eyes widened. “But Pete?” he started, “Your Peter tin—”

How Ned had managed to keep Peter’s identity a secret so far was a mystery. “Yes! Ned!” Peter interrupted. “My Peter tinnitus!”

Ned floundered.

“Yeah, it totally sucks!” Peter’s eyes widened with panic. He definitely wasn’t getting any help from Ned. “It really only flares up when,” he lowered his voice and stared at Flash, “I’m shmucked in the head by uncoordinated teammates.”

“Who are you calling uncoordinated, loser?! That was precision at its finest. In fact, I should totally get someone to hack the school’s security system and get a copy for me! Imagine all the views on my TikTok! Oh! I know—I can loop it! The world will see your idiot face over and over and over... AND over!” Flash finally trailed off with dreams of viral video fame, then looked Peter dead in the eye. “You, Penis Parker, are the best target EVER! I don’t know why I bother with the others.”

Peter’s headache pulsed and he had to bite back a groan. “Look, can we save this for another time, Flash. I’m not in the mood.”

Flash stared at him for a second, blank faced, then quirked an eyebrow. “Okay, Parker, another time? Done. Let’s see how you feel after school, if that’s how you’re gonna be.”

“What? No way—”

“Stuff it, Penis.” Flash got up in his face. ”You’re about to be my new after school ‘appointment.’ Lucky for that foreign exchange student, huh?” With that declaration, Flash flicked Peter between the eyes and headed down the hall towards his own locker and out of sight.

Peter let himself fall back into the lockers and rubbed at his forehead with a defeated sigh.

“Peter?” Ned spoke quietly. “If you want, I can call Mr. Hogan for you. Mr. Stark gave me his phone number for emergencies and if this isn’t one then...”

“Ned, please stop.” Peter begged. “We have one more class and then I can head to the tower, take some painkillers, and forget about Flash and this crappy day.”

“But Flash said—”

“Ned, I know what he said!” Peter snapped, then took a hopefully calming breath. “Let me worry about it, alright? Flash is obviously having one of those days and you know it’s better me than someone else when he gets like this.”

Ned shook his head in disagreement. “Dude, no. Not today. You already feel like shit.”

“Well then, you can go and tell Raveed that Flash is looking for some after school entertainment!”

“Maybe if you talked to Morita...?”

“Seriously, man? Flash has the school admins by the gonads and you know it!” Peter pressed his fingers to his eyes trying to counter the pressure. “Do the iPads in the library generously donated by Harrison Thompson ring a bell?”

Ned snorted. “How someone named Harrison could CHOOSE to name their kid Eugene, I’ll never get it.”

Peter offered a fake chuckle in return as the warning bell rang. “Ugh, have fun in Comp Sci, man.” Peter moved into their handshake. “Meet you back here after class?”

“Naw, Pete, remember?” Ned’s hands followed Peter’s lead. “I’m getting picked up early. Dentist appointment.”

“Well, shit.” Peter huffed. “Wish me luck then.”

Ned bundled Peter in a hug, “Hello? Dentist?! You wish me luck!” Ned teased.”Besides, you don’t need luck, Pete. You’re Spider-Man.” And Ned left Peter standing alone in the hallway.

With no one to fool, Peter deflated.  He mumbled a ‘mierda’ and shuffled off to Spanish class.

* * * * * *

Regret.

That was all Peter could focus on as the clock ticked down through the last 20 minutes of class. He regretted not letting Ned call Happy and he definitely regretted leaving his phone in his locker. Now if he wanted to contact anyone, it was with his Starkwatch and that was not something he wanted to deal with. A text saying ‘Hey. Killer headache. Need drugs’ was one thing. Any message sent via the watch was forwarded to ALL of the Avengers—even the newly pardoned ones.

... And he sure as heck wasn’t dealing with them.

He should have listened to Ned.

Or called someone himself.

Or just drowned himself in the boys’ washroom sink to put himself out of his misery.

... And he still had to deal with Flash.

Crap.

Yup. So much regret.

10 minutes—5 minutes—2 minutes...

Time slowed to the point where he wondered if the Time Stone was in play. It was just a fleeting, silly thought, but still too soon. His stomach clenched as he thought back on the time when—

Peter jumped as the final bell of the day rang through the room.

Crap.

He swallowed back saliva, the nausea distracting from his headache for a moment. That is until Flash strutted past Peter’s desk, cuffing him across the back of the head, brightening his pain once again.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Parker!” Flash sang out as he exited the classroom.

Double crap.

He tried to drag it out, slowly packing away his school items with unnecessary care. He’d have taken forever if he could, but that dream died with Senora Ramirez’s, “Vamos, Peter! Rapido por favour!”

Smiling back weakly, he replied, “Si, Senora Ramirez. Adios.” And he skulked out the door.

The hallway was almost empty by the time Peter made it to his locker, thank goodness. While his enhanced healing had barely started to touch his headache, the exhaustion of his metabolism trying and tentative hunger battling with his queasiness were real and uncomfortable. The quiet was good.

He took some deep breaths. “Okay,” he thought, “No thinking about the stones at school.”

More focussed, Peter managed to open his locker and grab his phone as it buzzed with a new text but his attempt to read it was interrupted by a rough shove; Peter’s shoulder connecting painfully with the locker’s frame.

“What part of ‘Don’t keep me waiting’ did you not understand, Penis?” Flash grabbed Peter by the shoulder and spun him around. “This is a smart school, ya’ know. Or maybe Mr. Scholarship doesn’t understand, huh?”

Peter flushed in embarrassment. “I’m smart.” Peter whispered.

“Well, if you’re so smart, you wouldn’t have made me have to come back into the school. Or are you deaf, too?” Flash shoved Peter back into the lockers.

Peter remained silent.

Flash slammed Peter back again, his head snapping back, too. “Dammit, Parker! Why do you make me so angry?”

How could anyone answer that question?

Again, Peter impacted the lockers. “You’re so pathetic, Penis. Standing in the gym, begging me to make you suffer.” Peter slammed again. “It’s so satisfying,” Flash hissed. “You’re practically asking for this.” With that, Flash reared back his fist and slammed it into Peter’s cheek. Spider-Man or not, it hurt, and the white bursts of light behind his eyelids spoke to that.

Was he begging for it?

Peter’s thoughts wandered to the time, in that moment when he slid down the wall to the floor. Had Raveed managed to catch his bus? Was he running late? Maybe his host family had picked him up.

A rough kick to his side pulled him from his thoughts. “There. That’ll keep me going ‘til tomorrow.” Flash grinned and stepped away.

Peter exhaled in relief.

“Nah,” Flash landed another kick to his thigh. “I lied. THAT will keep me going ‘til tomorrow.” Flash turned and jogged down the hall. “See you then, loser!” He turned the corner and was gone.

Peter closed his eyes and tentatively rested his head against the locker. Okay. It was done. He was okay. Peter picked up the phone that had landed on the floor beside him—Raveed had to be gone by now.

His phone buzzed again.

3:04pm

TonyBaloney: Hey! Got Rogues in house for meetings. :(

3:07pm

TonyBaloney: Reschedule?

Peter closed his eyes and inhaled. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... and held the breath, only to lose his focus when his phone buzzed a third and fourth time.

3:08pm

TonyBaloney: Use that credit card. Buy some Thai for you and Aunt Hottie!

3:08pm

TonyBaloney: But don’t tell her I called her that!

3:08pm

TonyBaloney: Seriously, she’ll kill me.

Peter huffed out a real laugh at that. Aunt May would geld Mr. Stark if she ever found out his nickname for her. Not that he could tell her. But what was he going to do about the weekend? When Mr. Stark had invited him for the weekend, Peter was relieved. May was going away for some training conference in New Jersey and had told Peter to ask Mr. Stark to play babysitter. The spontaneous invite had kept Peter from looking like a kid and May got her wish. Win-win.

... and now none of that mattered.

3:10pm

PBWanKenobi: Np, Mr. STart. See you Tuesday?

3:10pm

PBWanKenobi: *Stark

His phone didn’t buzz again, and Peter didn’t expect it to. The Rogues tended to keep Mr. Stark pretty distracted. Besides, even feeling like hot garbage, Peter could still get excited about a suddenly free night of Spider-Manning. And really, how much energy would he expend helping little old ladies crossing the street?

* * * * * *

Hours later, Peter could ignore that deep ache across his shoulders and back and even the occasional tug as his mask stuck to the healing cut on his cheek. The headache was still a little much (read that as borderline unbearable), but he’d call the evening a win.

He was swinging and considering stopping at that new Mexican place across from the Dunkin’ Donuts for a burrito or two when his Spidey-senses flared and Spider-Man was twisting away from his original course toward an alley about a three blocks down the street.

His senses blared now. “Karen, call 9-1-1.”

“Peter, if I call now, you run the risk—”

“Don’t care.” His neck almost burned from the intensity. “Call now.”

A woman screamed in obvious pain.

“And tell them to send an ambulance.”

“Calling...” Karen responded and left Spider-Man to do what he did best. Save the day.

Spider-Man took no time to assess the situation and react: A man and a woman in a physical altercation- well, more like a behemoth of a man beating the shit out of this poor lady, oblivious to the fact that someone had joined the party.

She’d fallen unconscious, only held up by her hair grasped in his one hand as he pulled his fist back to punch her again with the other. A thwip of webbing and the man’s fist stopped in its path.

“Wha-?”

“Hey! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?!” Spider-Man called out as he gave the webbing a yank and pulled the man away from his victim while blasting a cushion of webbing onto the concrete beneath the woman’s head.

The man’s initial confusion had passed quickly enough. He tried to remove the webbing from his right hand, but when that failed, simply went after Spider-Man with his left. “You got no business, here, ya’ freak!” He raged as he swung and missed. “She’s my woman! You got no say!” He swung and missed again.

“Dude,”Spider-Man jumped back, “Women have had the vote for, like, a hundred years! I’m pretty sure that she’s,” He jumped back again, “not your property, man!”

“She’s mine, ya’ bastard! And she knows what she did!” he raged, “She deserves everything she gets.” The man lunged one last time, going full bore on the young vigilante—and playing right into the trap. His fist came down as Spider-Man jumped up onto the alley wall. The crunch was nauseating and Peter was sure the man had to have broken at least three knuckle bones, if not several bones in his hand proper. He dropped his knees and cradled his injury, whimpering.

Spider-Man took advantage, securing the man to the ground with more webbing. He wasn’t going anywhere.

That taken care of, he rushed to the still unconscious woman on the ground. Now that he’d taken care of that dude, he could focus. “Karen, ETA on the ambulance?” He kneeled beside her prone body, better taking in her injuries.

“Two minutes, Peter.”

Okay, he could do two minutes. Her breathing was a little rough, and both of her eyes were swollen shut. He looked away, focused on the ground beside her and—were those teeth? This wasn’t the first beaten woman he’d helped, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that this one was different. He pulled in deep breath, and shook his head to try and clear it... but then this damned headache. No. Help would be here soon and she’d be okay. Yeah, she’d be okay. He was sure of it. He grabbed her hand, “You’ll be fine, lady. Help is coming.”

He pulled in a breath. He was okay.

The man in the webs sneered. “Awww, you’re so cute. Thinking that this is the last of it.” Spider-Man glared back him. The man gave a chin nod in her direction. “Who do you think is gonna bail me out?”

“No one deserves this, man! Why’d you do it? You could’ve killed her?” Spider-Man yelled. “Why?”

The man laughed, ugly and low. “You wanna know why?”

Spider-Man stared back at him.

"I’ll tell you why. ‘Cuz she’s so stupid, the bitch practically begs me to hit her. She needs to remember her place, that she’s nothin’ without me.” The man sneered, “and sometimes, it just feels so damn good.”

Flash’s words from earlier in the day suddenly echoed through Peter’s head. Yeah, Spider-Man was done for the day and Peter had a lot to think about.

“Karen, ETA?”

“Arrival is imminent. Might I suggest taking refuge on a rooftop to avoid detection by the local authorities?”

Peter looked at the bruised and swollen woman on the ground, gently placed her hand at her side, and then Spider-Man plastered a patch of webbing across the woman beater’s mouth. Peter didn’t want to listen to him anymore.

The ambulance and patrol car skidded to a halt in front of the alleyway almost simultaneously. A police officer exited his vehicle with weapon drawn and preparing to clear the alley for the EMTs to come down with their equipment .

“Peter?” Karen inquired.

“Yeah, I know. That’s my cue to leave.” And with the flick of a wrist, Spider-Man was off and away from the scene.

* * * * * *

It was past his curfew, and save for the fact that he was pretty sure he’d saved the life of that woman in the alley, stopped several muggings, a car accident, and finally caught that pickpocket that’d been targeting tourists for weeks—well, he’d regretted every decision he’d made since getting off of the subway after school.

He’d planned to stop after that man, but an inexplicable need to atone for his very existence ate at him and within minutes of stopping on that first rooftop, he was off and at it again.

And now his face still bled, his head pounded, and he wondered if his shoulder had dislocated and then corrected itself at some point in the evening. His ribs ached, his bruises throbbed, and something... something gnawed at his gut. No. Not something. Everything gnawed at his gut and thoughts were swirling around in his brain and he kept wondering why and how and if...”

“Incoming call from Tony Stark.”

Peter closed his eyes and drew in a calming breath.

“Peter?” Mr. Stark’s deceptively calm voice came over the comm. “Care to explain to me why I’m having to give the Spider-Baby a call at 1:27 on a Saturday morning when your curfew is midnight on the weekend?”

He didn’t know what to say, so he stuck to the truth, “I’m just thinking, Mr. Stark. I promise.”

“And you can’t do that from the comfort of your own home?”

Peter closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure that was the best plan, being alone in that exact moment.

“Pete? Are you going to answer me, ‘cuz Karen and FRI are both works of AI genius and I know this call hasn’t dropped.”

Peter inhaled again. That realization made it all too much. He wanted to...

“Pete?” Mr. Stark was alert now. “Pete? What’s going on?”

“I’m...” a sob fought its way free. What was Peter supposed to say? He wanted so badly to say he was good—that he was great and just taking in the cityscape before heading back to the apartment. He wanted to talk about the hot dog vendor who gives him extra sauerkraut on his hot dogs, ‘cuz it’ll put hair on his chest. Heck, he’d have settled for a story about free churros...

But he just felt so heavy.

“Peter, I’m calling up a suit now. I can be to you in two minutes.”

Two minutes? He had two minutes, and then Mr. Stark would know that Spider-Man wasn’t a superhero—he was a distraction, a target, a victim. That he existed solely for the universe to pour all of its hate and misfortune onto him for the benefit of others. That no matter how hard he tried, it would never be enough. That maybe Flash and Toomes and every punch and kick and stab were karma for Ben? His parents? That maybe if he wasn’t here...” Peter sobbed again. How could he say that all in two minutes?  

Instead, Peter whispered, “Mr. Stark? I can’t take this anymore.”

There was a silence, then, and Peter panicked at the thought he’d said too much.

“I mean—it’s okay, I just...”

“Pete. Hang on just thirty more seconds, okay? I’m coming to you, right now. Do you hear me?”

Peter nodded.

Mr. Stark chuckled, “I can’t hear you nod, kid.”

“I hear you,” he breathed.

“Okay, ‘cuz I bet there’s a lot of stuff goin’ on in that head of yours that needs some revisiting and I imagine it’s not processing quite right just now, what with the concussion you’ve been dealing with,” Mr. Stark cussed under his breath. “Kid, Karen is telling FRI that you already had that concussion when the suit went on?”

Peter huffed a laugh and looked out onto the city. “Um,” his voice warbled as he answered, “It’s been a pretty shitty day.” He could see Iron Man in the distance.

“Definitely sounds like there’s a story there, kid.” Mr. Stark landed a few feet away then moved towards him, faceplate flipping up to reveal a look of concern. “I want to hear it but first, I think you need this first.” The Iron Man armour melted away and Mr. Stark pulled Peter into his arms.

Peter tensed. The hugging thing wasn’t new for them, but Peter was convinced that he didn’t deserve this—any of this and he couldn’t... couldn’t...”

“Hey, kid, you’re safe here.” Mr. Stark soothed. “I’ve got you.”

Peter burrowed himself into Mr. Stark’s chest, then shook his head ‘no.’

His head hurt so bad and he couldn’t stop crying.

“Hey, FRI? Can he take the mask off?”

A voice spoke out from the watch resting by his ear. “I’m afraid not, Boss. There are several CCTV cameras set for specific ongoing undercover operations. This would disrupt four active stake outs and potential chain of evidence.”

“Damn.” Tony thought for a second. “Hey, buddy,” leaned to talk quietly into Peter’s ear. “I’m gonna give you a lift, ‘kay? We’ll hang out at the tower, just like we planned and have a bit of a staycation this weekend, sound good?”

Peter’s energy level was ebbing but, even still, he remembered, “No, don’t want the Avengers to see me like this.” He pleaded.

“Yeah, they flaked after the last meeting wrapped up, bud. The tower’s free and clear. It’d be you and me and bad 80s sci-fi. What do you say?”

Peter shrugged. It was all he could give.

And Mr. Stark took it. “Okay, kiddo, I’m gonna let of you now so I can get back into my suit, okay? And then I’m gonna pick you up so we can get this party started... whenever you’re ready.”

Peter hesitated, and then pulled himself out of Mr. Stark’s arms. Peter stepped back, looking unsure of himself.

With the tap of a button, the suit completely encased the man in seconds. “Alrighty, then. How do you want to do this, Pete? Piggy-back? Bridal-style?”

Peter was paralyzed with indecision. “I... I... um...”

The faceplate flipped up again and Tony took in the boy’s state, “How’s about dealer’s choice, hey?”

Peter nodded in relief and managed to not squeak when Iron Man scooped him up into his metal arms. “Why don’t you just relax. I’ve got ya’.” And with that, Iron Man rocketed off the rooftop and towards Avengers Tower.

It seemed that Mr. Stark didn’t feel as much urgency returning to the tower as he had when he’d headed over to Peter on the roof.

It was nice.

“Hey, Pete?” Mr. Stark interrupted the quiet, “I’m lookin’ at the injury report that Karen sent FRIDAY. I know you can’t be feeling great, so how’s about we make a quick pit stop at the medbay and get you checked out, huh?”

“I’m fine.” The words left his mouth before he could process it.

Mr. Stark was quiet for a minute, and then, “You know, Pete, just because you can deal with feeling bad or are even used to feeling bad, it doesn’t mean you have to settle for it.”

Peter remained silent.

“You don’t deserve to be in pain, bud.”

How could Peter reply to that? He lowered his head into the Iron Man’s chest and they continued onward.

Within moments, they were touching down on the landing pad outside of the Stark penthouse. Peter waited to be put down, but Mr. Stark walked forward, the suit dismantling around him until it was simply Mr. Stark carrying him.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Hang on, kid. Almost there.” He grunted in exertion.

They made their way to the couch where Tony gently placed Peter, sitting him down on the couch before planting himself on the coffee table in front of it.

“Okay, first things first,” Tony announced and reached forward to carefully remove the Spider-Man mask.

Peter allowed it, but kept his eyes lowered.

But Mr. Stark wouldn’t allow that. Mr. Stark cupped Peter’s cheek and guided Peter’s face upward. Peter tried to look away, but Mr. Stark refused to allow it.

“Peter Parker, you look me in the eye right now, please.”

His tears welled up again, but he did it.

“Good job, kid. Now I need you listen to me, and you listen to me good.”

Peter couldn’t look away.

“You do not need to be okay with feeling bad.”

Peter shook his head to disagree.

Tony continued. “You do not deserve to feel bad,” Tony wiped away Peter’s tears. “And you sure as hell do not need to hide from any of the people that love you that you feel bad.”

Mr. Stark moved his calloused hand from Peter’s face to brush a curl from his forehead. “If you need a list of people who love you, they include, but are not exclusive to: Your Aunt May, Ned, MJ, Rhodey—who still wants you to call him Uncle Rhodey, by the way.”

Peter chuckled.

Mr. Stark beamed, “Now where was I? Oh, yeah! Happy—just don’t tell him I told you,” Mr. Stark gave a conspiratorial wink at that one. “Pepper! And Brucie! Do I need to keep going? ‘Cuz I will. Hell, I bet that guy that makes your sandwiches loves you, kid.”

Peter didn’t know what to say.

“I’m at the top of that list, Peter.” Peter could hear the affection in Mr. Stark’s voice.

“You, Mister Peter Park, are allowed to not be okay. Sometimes life is shit, but half the fun is in getting through this together. You got me?”

Peter managed a timid nod.

“Good, so do you wanna go to the medbay and see if we have something for the killer headache you’ve got to have?”

“Please,” Peter replied.

“You’re feeling pretty bad?”

“Yeah, and, uh...” Peter didn’t quite know how to say it. “Um, I’m not okay.”

Tony shuffled closer, pulled Peter into an all-encompassing hug, and whispered, “I hear you, Peter, but we’re gonna get you there.”

@febuwhump

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January's New Releases

2021 told 2020 to hold it's beer and what a month January has been! Publishing YA also came out swinging with a slew of new books (many already bestsellers) in what we hope will be another banner year for BIPOC stories. Click below to find books for your TBR list. 

Week of January 5th

The Life I’m In by Sharon G. Flake Scholastic Inc

My feet are heavy as stones when I walk up the block wondering why I can’t find my old self.

In The Skin I’m In, readers saw into the life of Maleeka Madison, a teen who suffered from the ridicule she received because of her dark skin color. For decades fans have wanted to know the fate of the bully who made Maleeka’s life miserable, Char.

Now in Sharon Flake’s latest and unflinching novel, The Life I’m In, we follow Charlese Jones, who, with her raw, blistering voice speaks the truths many girls face, offering insight to some of the causes and conditions that make a bully. Turned out of the only home she has known, Char boards a bus to nowhere where she is lured into the dangerous web of human trafficking. Much is revealed behind the complex system of men who take advantage of vulnerable teens in the underbelly of society. While Char might be frightened, she remains strong and determined to bring herself and her fellow victims out of the dark and back into the light, reminding us why compassion is a powerful cure to the ills of the world.

Sharon Flake’s bestselling, Coretta Scott King Award-winning novel The Skin I’m In was a game changer when it was first published more than twenty years ago. It redefined young adult literature by presenting characters, voices, and real-world experiences that had not been fully seen. Now Flake offers readers another timely and radical story of a girl on the brink and how her choices will lead her to either fall, or fly. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Happily Ever Afters by Elise Bryant Balzer + Bray

Sixteen-year-old Tessa Johnson has never felt like the protagonist in her own life. She’s rarely seen herself reflected in the pages of the romance novels she loves. The only place she’s a true leading lady is in her own writing—in the swoony love stories she shares only with Caroline, her best friend and #1 devoted reader.

When Tessa is accepted into the creative writing program of a prestigious art school, she’s excited to finally let her stories shine. But when she goes to her first workshop, the words are just…gone. Fortunately, Caroline has a solution: Tessa just needs to find some inspiration in a real-life love story of her own. And she’s ready with a list of romance novel-inspired steps to a happily ever after. Nico, the brooding artist who looks like he walked out of one of Tessa’s stories, is cast as the perfect Prince Charming.

But as Tessa checks each item off Caroline’s list, she gets further and further away from herself. She risks losing everything she cares about—including the surprising bond she develops with sweet Sam, who lives across the street. She’s well on her way to having her own real-life love story, but is it the one she wants, after all?

One of the Good Ones by Maika Moulite and Maritza Moulite Inkyard Press

ISN’T BEING HUMAN ENOUGH? When teen social activist and history buff Kezi Smith is killed under mysterious circumstances after attending a social justice rally, her devastated sister Happi and their family are left reeling in the aftermath. As Kezi becomes another immortalized victim in the fight against police brutality, Happi begins to question the idealized way her sister is remembered. Perfect. Angelic.

One of the good ones.

Even as the phrase rings wrong in her mind–why are only certain people deemed worthy to be missed?–Happi and her sister Genny embark on a journey to honor Kezi in their own way, using an heirloom copy of The Negro Motorist Green Book as their guide. But there��s a twist to Kezi’s story that no one could’ve ever expected–one that will change everything all over again.

Roman and Jewel by Dana L. Davis Inkyard Press

If Romeo and Juliet got the Hamilton treatment…who would play the leads? This vividly funny, honest, and charming romantic novel by Dana L. Davis is the story of a girl who thinks she has what it takes…and the world thinks so, too.

Jerzie Jhames will do anything to land the lead role in Broadway’s hottest new show, Roman and Jewel, a Romeo and Juliet inspired hip-hopera featuring a diverse cast and modern twists on the play. But her hopes are crushed when she learns mega-star Cinny won the lead…and Jerzie is her understudy.

Falling for male lead Zeppelin Reid is a terrible idea–especially once Jerzie learns Cinny wants him for herself. Star-crossed love always ends badly. But when a video of Jerzie and Zepp practicing goes viral and the entire world weighs in on who should play Jewel, Jerzie learns that while the price of fame is high, friendship, family, and love are priceless.

The Awakening of Malcom X by Ilyasah Shabazz & Tiffany D. Jackson Farrar, Straus and Giroux (Byr)

In Charlestown Prison, Malcolm Little struggles with the weight of his past. Plagued by nightmares, Malcolm drifts through days unsure of his future. Slowly, he befriends other prisoners and writes to his family. He reads all the books in the prison library, joins the debate team and the Nation of Islam. Malcolm grapples with race, politics, religion, and justice in the 1940s. And as his time in jail comes to an end, he begins to awaken — emerging from prison more than just Malcolm Little: Now, he is Malcolm X.

Here is an intimate look at Malcolm X’s young adult years. While this book chronologically follows X: A Novel, it can be read as a stand-alone historical novel that invites larger discussions on black power, prison reform, and civil rights.

When You Look Like Us by Pamela N. Harris HarperCollins

When you look like us—brown skin, brown eyes, black braids or fades—people think you’re trouble. No one looks twice at a missing black girl from the projects because she must’ve brought whatever happened to her upon herself. I, Jay Murphy, can admit that, for a minute, I thought my sister, Nicole, got too caught up with her boyfriend—a drug dealer—and his friends.

But she’s been gone too long now.

If I hadn’t hung up on her that night, she’d be spending time with our grandma. If I was a better brother, she’d be finishing senior year instead of being another name on a missing persons list. It’s time to step up and do what the Newport News police department won’t.

Week of January 12th

Chlorine Sky by Mahogany L. Browne Crown Books for Young Readers

She looks me hard in my eyes & my knees lock into tree trunks My eyes don’t dance like my heartbeat racing They stare straight back hot daggers. I remember things will never be the same. I remember things.

With gritty and heartbreaking honesty, Mahogany L. Browne delivers a novel-in-verse about broken promises, fast rumors, and when growing up means growing apart from your best friend.

The Meet-Cute Project by Rhiannon Richardson Simon & Schuster

Mia’s friends love rom-coms. Mia hates them. They’re silly, contrived, and not at all realistic. Besides, there are more important things to worry about—like how to handle living with her bridezilla sister, Sam, who’s never appreciated Mia, and surviving junior year juggling every school club offered and acing all of her classes.

So when Mia is tasked with finding a date to her sister’s wedding, her options are practically nonexistent.

Mia’s friends, however, have an idea. It’s a little crazy, a little out there, and a lot inspired by the movies they love that Mia begrudgingly watches too.

Mia just needs a meet-cute.

Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0) by Angie Thomas Balzer + Bray

If there’s one thing seventeen-year-old Maverick Carter knows, it’s that a real man takes care of his family. As the son of a former gang legend, Mav does that the only way he knows how: dealing for the King Lords. With this money he can help his mom, who works two jobs while his dad’s in prison.

Life’s not perfect, but with a fly girlfriend and a cousin who always has his back, Mav’s got everything under control.

Until, that is, Maverick finds out he’s a father.

Suddenly he has a baby, Seven, who depends on him for everything. But it’s not so easy to sling dope, finish school, and raise a child. So when he’s offered the chance to go straight, he takes it. In a world where he’s expected to amount to nothing, maybe Mav can prove he’s different.

When King Lord blood runs through your veins, though, you can’t just walk away. Loyalty, revenge, and responsibility threaten to tear Mav apart, especially after the brutal murder of a loved one. He’ll have to figure out for himself what it really means to be a man.

Angel of Greenwood by Randi Pink Feiwel and Friends

Seventeen-year-old Isaiah Wilson is, on the surface, a town troublemaker, but is hiding that he is an avid reader and secret poet, never leaving home without his journal. A passionate follower of WEB. Du Bois, he believes that black people should rise up to claim their place as equals.

Sixteen-year-old Angel Hill is a loner, mostly disregarded by her peers as a goody-goody. Her father is dying, and her family’s financial situation is in turmoil. Also, as a loyal follower of Booker T. Washington, she believes, through education and tolerance, that black people should rise slowly and without forced conflict.

Though they’ve attended the same schools, Isaiah never noticed Angel as anything but a dorky, Bible toting church girl. Then their English teacher offers them a job on her mobile library, a three-wheel, two-seater bike. Angel can’t turn down the money and Isaiah is soon eager to be in such close quarters with Angel every afternoon.

But life changes on May 31, 1921 when a vicious white mob storms the community of Greenwood, leaving the town destroyed and thousands of residents displaced. Only then, Isaiah, Angel, and their peers realize who their real enemies are.

Week of January 19th

Thirty Talks Weird Love by Alessandra Narváez Varela Cinco Puntos Press

Out of nowhere, a lady comes up to Anamaría and says she’s her, from the future. But Anamaría’s thirteen, she knows better than to talk to some weirdo stranger. Girls need to be careful, especially in Ciudad Juárez, Mexico—it’s the 90’s and fear is overtaking her beloved city as cases of kidnapped girls and women become alarmingly common. This thirty-year-old “future” lady doesn’t seem to be dangerous but she won’t stop bothering her, switching between cheesy Hallmark advice about being kind to yourself, and some mysterious talk about saving a girl.

Anamaría definitely doesn’t need any saving, she’s doing just fine. She works hard at her strict, grade-obsessed middle school—so hard that she hardly gets any sleep; so hard that the stress makes her snap not just at mean girls but even her own (few) friends; so hard that when she does sleep she dreams about dying—but she just wants to do the best she can so she can grow up to be successful. Maybe Thirty’s right, maybe she’s not supposed to be so exhausted with her life, but how can she ask for help when her city is mourning the much bigger tragedy of its stolen girls?

This thought-provoking, moving verse novel will lead adult and young adult readers alike to vital discussions on important topics—like dealing with depression and how to recognize this in yourself and others—through the accessible voice of a thirteen-year-old girl.

Your Corner Dark by Desmond Hall Atheneum/Dlouhy

Things can change in a second:

The second Frankie Green gets that scholarship letter, he has his ticket out of Jamaica.

The second his longtime crush, Leah, asks him on a date, he’s in trouble.

The second his father gets shot, suddenly nothing else matters.

And the second Frankie joins his uncle’s gang in exchange for paying for his father’s medical bills, there’s no going back…or is there?

As Frankie does things he never thought he’d be capable of, he’s forced to confront the truth of the family and future he was born into—and the ones he wants to build for himself.

Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo Dutton Books for Young Readers

“That book. It was about two women, and they fell in love with each other.” And then Lily asked the question that had taken root in her, that was even now unfurling its leaves and demanding to be shown the sun: “Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

Seventeen-year-old Lily Hu can’t remember exactly when the question took root, but the answer was in full bloom the moment she and Kathleen Miller walked under the flashing neon sign of a lesbian bar called the Telegraph Club.

America in 1954 is not a safe place for two girls to fall in love, especially not in Chinatown. Red-Scare paranoia threatens everyone, including Chinese Americans like Lily. With deportation looming over her father—despite his hard-won citizenship—Lily and Kath risk everything to let their love see the light of day.

If I Tell You the Truth by Jasmin Kaur HarperCollins

Told in prose, poetry, and illustration, this heartrending story weaves Kiran’s and Sahaara’s timelines together, showing a teenage Kiran and, later, her high school–aged daughter, Sahaara.

Kiran is a young Punjabi Sikh woman who becomes pregnant after being sexually assaulted by her fiancé’s brother. When her fiancé and family don’t believe her, she flees her home in India to Canada, where she plans to raise the child as a single mother. For Kiran, living undocumented means constant anxiety over finances, work, safety, and whether she’ll be deported back to the dangers that await her in Punjab.

Eighteen years later, Kiran’s daughter, Sahaara, is desperate to help her mother, who has been arrested and is facing deportation. In the aftermath, Kiran reveals the truth about Sahaara’s conception. Horrified, Sahaara encourages Kiran to speak out against the man who raped her—who’s now a popular political figure in Punjab. Sahaara must find the best way to support her mother while also dealing with the revelation about her parents.

We Free the Stars (Sands of Arawiya #2) by Hafsah Faizal Farrar, Straus and Giroux

The battle on Sharr is over. The dark forest has fallen. Altair may be captive, but Zafira, Nasir, and Kifah are bound for Sultan’s Keep, determined to finish the plan he set in motion: restoring the hearts of the Sisters of Old to the minarets of each caliphate, and finally returning magic to all of Arawiya. But they are low on resources and allies alike, and the kingdom teems with fear of the Lion of the Night’s return.

As the zumra plots to overthrow the kingdom’s darkest threat, Nasir fights to command the magic in his blood. He must learn to hone his power into a weapon, to wield not only against the Lion but against his father, trapped under the Lion’s control. Zafira battles a very different darkness festering in her through her bond with the Jawarat—a darkness that hums with voices, pushing her to the brink of her sanity and to the edge of a chaos she dare not unleash. In spite of the darkness enclosing ever faster, Nasir and Zafira find themselves falling into a love they can’t stand to lose…but time is running out to achieve their ends, and if order is to be restored, drastic sacrifices will have to be made.

Lush and striking, hopeful and devastating, We Free the Stars is the masterful conclusion to the Sands of Arawiya duology by New York Times–bestselling author Hafsah Faizal.

Week of January 26th

Written in Starlight (Woven in Moonlight #2) by Isabel Ibañez Page Street Kids

If the jungle wants you, it will have you…

Catalina Quiroga is a Condesa without a country. She’s lost the Inkasisa throne, the loyalty of her people, and her best friend. Banished to the perilous Yanu Jungle, Catalina knows her chances of survival are slim, but that won’t stop her from trying to escape. It’s her duty to reclaim the throne.

When Manuel, the son of her former general, rescues Catalina from a jaguar, a plan forms. Deep in the jungle, the city of gold is hidden, home to the fierce Illari people, who she could strike an alliance with.

But the elusive Illari are fighting a battle of their own—a mysterious blight is corrupting the jungle, laying waste to everything they hold dear. As a seer, Catalina should be able to help, but her ability to read the future in the stars is as feeble as her survival instincts. While searching for the Illari, Catalina must reckon with her duty and her heart to find her true calling, which could be the key to stopping the corruption before it destroys the jungle completely.

The Knockout by Sajni Patel Flux

If seventeen-year-old Kareena Thakkar is going to alienate herself from the entire Indian community, she might as well do it gloriously. She’s landed the chance of a lifetime, an invitation to the US Muay Thai Open, which could lead to a spot on the first-ever Olympic team. If only her sport wasn’t seen as something too rough for girls, something she’s afraid to share with anyone outside of her family. Despite pleasing her parents, exceling at school, and making plans to get her family out of debt, Kareena’s never felt quite Indian enough, and her training is only making it worse.

Which is inconvenient, since she’s starting to fall for Amit Patel, who just might be the world’s most perfect Indian. Admitting her feelings for Amit will cost Kareena more than just her pride–she’ll have to face his parents’ disapproval, battle her own insecurities, and remain focused for the big fight. Kareena’s bid for the Olympics could very well make history–if she has the courage to go for it.

Wings of Ebony (Wings of Ebony #1) by J. Elle Denene Millner Books/Simon Schuster Books for Young Readers

“Make a way out of no way” is just the way of life for Rue. But when her mother is shot dead on her doorstep, life for her and her younger sister changes forever. Rue’s taken from her neighborhood by the father she never knew, forced to leave her little sister behind, and whisked away to Ghizon—a hidden island of magic wielders.

Rue is the only half-god, half-human there, where leaders protect their magical powers at all costs and thrive on human suffering. Miserable and desperate to see her sister on the anniversary of their mother’s death, Rue breaks Ghizon’s sacred Do Not Leave Law and returns to Houston, only to discover that Black kids are being forced into crime and violence. And her sister, Tasha, is in danger of falling sway to the very forces that claimed their mother’s life.

Worse still, evidence mounts that the evil plaguing East Row is the same one that lurks in Ghizon—an evil that will stop at nothing until it has stolen everything from her and everyone she loves. Rue must embrace her true identity and wield the full magnitude of her ancestors’ power to save her neighborhood before the gods burn it to the ground.

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 13 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n:guess who’s realised she never submitted this to AQ? it’s ya boi. if u haven’t been able to read this yet then here it is, and look out for the final chapter coming soon! thank u to everyone who’s ever sent this fic some love, it means the world to me!!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

6th December 2020

Vanessa’s in the wine aisle of Marks and Spencers when she sees her again.

Her hair’s been dyed- she already knew that, she’s seen pictures of it on her Insta feed- and the demure tones of the honey-brown balayage are a contrast to the blonde ombré she’d had when they’d been together, but it suits her. She’s in sweatpants and a cropped jumper, because of course she is, and Vanessa recognises the matching pink set emblazoned with the Playboy logo from Missguided adverts on bus shelters. She’s wearing some form of chunky white trainers and Vanessa isn’t proud of the fact that she feels a little flame of satisfaction light up in her gut when she sees that they’re splattered with mud, contrasting with her clean outfit and perfect makeup.

Vanessa turns back to the green bottles in front of her, staring at them for so long and with such intensity that she thinks she might rip the fabric of reality in two. She consciously blocks out her peripheral vision so that all she can see is the label of one bottle of white which she reads over and over again. A light, dry white with citrus notes and lively green fruit flavours. Grown in the spectacular setting of the sun ripened vineyards of central Spain. Goes with fish, chicken and salads.

She doesn’t, in any way, shape or form, know how to play this situation, because this is the first time she’s seen Kameron in person since they decided to call it quits. One one hand she could just keep staring at the wine bottle, attempt to blend into the shelves via osmosis and completely avoid her ex, but on the other hand…Vanessa doesn’t really know what the other hand is, because she doesn’t know what a conversation between the two of them would look like. There’s a part of her that wants to find out.

And suddenly, with a cry that Vanessa recognises as hers, the decision is made for her.

“Vanjie?”

Slowly, timidly, Vanessa turns around to meet her eyes. Soft, brown eyes that Vanessa had once looked into and seen her whole world and future.

God, it’s fucking crazy how she used to be so in love with her and now she feels completely apathetic.

“Kam! Hey,” Vanessa smiles tightly, waving awkwardly with the hand she’s not holding her shopping basket with. “How are you?”

“I’m fine! Well, actually, not amazing. I tried to make this really fancy, complex coq au vin for dinner last night but I don’t know what the hell I did wrong because it tasted like fucking ass. So I’m here getting ingredients again because Mama didn’t raise a quitter. It’ll probably still taste like garbage though, you know what I’m like,” Kameron reels off, which makes Vanessa smile in spite of herself. Kam was never the best at cooking and it was usually Vanessa who made the dinners when they were together, but there were still a couple of times when she’d tried at something and had failed spectacularly. Kameron seems to pick up on what she’d said as a little look of discomfort flashes in her eyes before she follows her sentence up with, “How’re you? God, it’s been ages.”

“It has,” Vanessa shrugged a little. So much has changed since they’ve last spoken that Vanessa isn’t really sure where to start. “I’m good. Things are pretty great, really. Obviously had a good run on the show for my first year competing, so hopefully I’ll get a partner next year too an’ win it next time.”

“I know, you did so well! I was really shocked you didn’t make the semis at least,” Kameron frowns, and the flattery does admittedly soften Vanessa up a little. Kameron’s face lights up as she adds, “God, your girl was so amazing though too! Brooke Lynn Hytes, right? She was super talented. Now I know how good a dancer she is I can’t help but feel like she’s sort of wasted as a presenter.”

“Yeah, she’s incredible,” Vanessa nods emphatically, unable to help the heat she feels spreading to her cheeks whenever she gets to talk about Brooke with somebody. Kameron’s expression changes a little as she clocks Vanessa’s blush, and a cheeky glint appears in her eye. Vanessa frowns. “Hey. Behave.”

“I didn’t say a word!” Kameron laughs, and as she trails off there’s a smile on her face that’s affectionate and helps Vanessa warm up to her ex even more. “Listen, what’re your plans? I’d honestly love to catch up. It’s been too long.”

Vanessa tilts her head in thought. The conversation isn’t going too badly, and her only plans are going round to Brooke’s later on to watch the semi-final results and have dinner (hence the reason she’s gone to M&S to get wine and not the Tesco Metro round the corner from her). So Vanessa surprises herself when she shrugs, giving Kameron a little nod. “Okay, yeah. Lemme get this wine and then we can get coffee.”

The way Kameron’s face lights up makes Vanessa think that her decision was the correct one.

They’re sat at a little table at the window of a nondescript coffee shop roughly ten minutes later, Kameron stirring the hell out of a vanilla latte that’s sat in front of her and creating a tiny whirlpool in the coffee that puts Vanessa in mind of a Pirates of the Carribean movie. Kameron’s talking about the flat she’s in just now- she bought it after she rented for a while when she moved out of Vanessa’s place- and how furniture is so expensive.

“I mean I could just go to IKEA and just furnish the entire thing for, like, two grand, but I actually want some really nice stuff, you know? Like it’s a big girl professional flat, not a uni rental,” she screws her face up as she finally takes a sip. Vanessa bristles a little opposite her- she knows Kam doesn’t mean it, but Vanessa wants to remind her that most of her furniture is from IKEA, because they’d gone and bought it all together when they first moved in. Kameron doesn’t seem affected, though, and keeps talking. “What about you? You still living out at Finsbury Park?”

Vanessa nods. “I’m still in the same flat, I never moved.”

A look of shock passes over Kameron’s face and Vanessa can read her like a book- the fact she’s still in that flat where they made so many memories together is obviously surprising. Vanessa can’t help but laugh. “Kameron, chill. You don’t roam the fuckin’ halls like a ghost, I don’t burst into tears whenever I go into a room. It’s a decent flat at a decent price, I wanted to keep it.”

“Right. Sorry. Ego check,” Kameron smiles sheepishly, and Vanessa feels bad for poking fun at her. Kameron perks up after a second, laughs a little. “I like how you said ‘halls’ plural. Like it’s a stately home and not a fucking matchbox with an intercom system.”

Vanessa’s taking a sip of her own hot chocolate and she almost chokes on it in a laugh, Kameron howling and slapping the table in response. Vanessa’s forgotten that Kam used to make her laugh, still can. She always used to see it like some sort of secret privilege she had access to, the quiet girl’s funny side rare and only popping out on special occasions. That hasn’t changed over the years.

“How’s work, anyway?” Vanessa asks her as she composes herself. Kameron shrugs easily.

“Pretty good. I did a Dua Lipa music video the other week, that should be coming out in a month or so.”

“Is she actually as bad a dancer as that video made her out to be?”

Kameron smirks. “She had a shit choreographer; she’s actually alright. Not pop girl standard, but you know. My agent’s trying to get me on the Blackpink tour next, so I should hear back from that soon.”

Vanessa’s glad that work hasn’t dried up for Kameron- the backing dancer industry is treating her well.

“Anyway,” Kameron bats her lashes, looking at Vanessa coyly from behind her glass. “Tell me more about this dance partner of yours, miss.”

Vanessa feels herself blush, a bashful laugh escaping her lips before she can stop it. It’s weird- after they first broke up Vanessa always used to think she’d love the chance to rub her ex’s face in a new relationship, but it feels ever so slightly odd now she’s actually about to talk about Brooke in front of her. “Honestly, we’re just seeing each other and keeping things casual. Y’know, while the series is still goin’. We’re not even official or public.”

“Yet,” Kameron smiles cheekily at her, and Vanessa can’t suppress the smile she returns to her.

“Okay, yet. But it’s going really well. I really like her. She’s sweet, an’ she’s caring, an’ she’s the best listener.”

“And she won’t be a fucking idiot and cheat on you.”

“No, I don’t think she will,” Vanessa shrugs, the fact that Kameron’s brought the situation up casting a small grey cloud over the conversation. It’s clunky and awkward, a puzzle piece jammed in a place it shouldn’t be. It’s been brought up now though, so Vanessa grimaces and adds, “But then I never thought you would, either.”

Kameron’s face screws up in regret, and before Vanessa knows it she’s rested a hand on top of hers and is giving her a tentative smile. “I know I said it about twenty million times when we were together but I’m honestly so sorry, Vanessa. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Kam, you gotta stop beatin’ yourself up about it,” Vanessa cuts in and says swiftly. Her own words shock her; they’ve come from virtually nowhere, and she’s amazed at the raw sympathy she’s just shown her. “You were drunk, it was a kiss. Strictly is…it’s a weird show. You saw him more hours in the day than you saw me. Kisses between partners happen all the time, it just…sucks that it happened between you two.”

Kameron nods quietly, and Vanessa puts her other hand on top of hers. “I forgive you. Give yourself a break.”

Kameron squeezes her hand, shoots her a soft smile. “Thanks, Vanjie.”

They let go of each other’s hands and each take a sip of their own drink, the silence between them somewhat symbolic like someone wiping words off a whiteboard. Vanessa watches as Kameron swallows a gulp of her coffee and grins. “Hey, do me a solid and put in a good word with Asia O’Hara for me, okay? I really want to slide into her DMs but I need some context first.”

“Your face can be the context, fuckin’ look in a mirror,” Vanessa snorts, and the two of them laugh together.

It’s nice. This huge, big, massive event she’s built up in her head for all these months is happening- she’s bumped into Kameron and she’s speaking to her. She doesn’t need to build it up anymore, or wonder about how it would play out because she’s living it, it’s playing out and she never has to see Kameron for the first time since they broke up ever again. A wall crumbles down in her mind without warning and once the dust settles she realises that she feels somewhat lighter.

Vanessa has been carrying this burden around with her for all this time without even having known it.

The pair of them eventually finish up- hug goodbye outside the coffee shop and tell each other how nice this all had been and then go their separate ways. They don’t promise to keep in touch, but Vanessa knows they’ll probably like each others’ Instagram posts or occasionally tweet each other support or that kind of thing now. Little things that remind them they’re still on good terms.

As Vanessa heads to the tube, her mind drifts to Brooke and how excited she is to see her. The week has been long and Brooke’s been busy, but true to her word she’s messaged Vanessa whenever she’s had a spare moment, updating her on her day and asking her about her own. On Tuesday she’d invited Vanessa round to her flat on Sunday night as she has a day off on Monday and they can spend the night together. She’s not just abandoned her or left her hanging, and if there’s about to be a gap between her messages she always pre-warns her. Brooke’s treating her well. Almost like a girlfriend. Exactly like a girlfriend.

Vanessa still doesn’t know what they really are. She’s so far told herself that that’s alright, but now they’re out of the competition that answer isn’t really satisfying her any more. She wants to call Brooke hers, she wants to be with her properly. As Brooke’s apartment building comes into view, Vanessa wonders if she’ll bring it up tonight.

As she buzzes Brooke’s intercom, though, Brooke’s tone throws everything into a tailspin.

“Hello?”

Vanessa frowns. Brooke sounds ever-so-slightly icy and fed up. She wonders if she’s imagined it. “Uh, hey! It’s Vanessa.”

“Hey. Come up.”

As the door buzzes open and Vanessa steps into the building, she waves away the thoughts in her head. She’s probably overthinking things, and as she steps into the elevator and lets herself be carried up to Brooke’s 12th floor apartment Vanessa tries to calm her nerves. It’s the first time she’s been to Brooke’s flat- in fact it’s the first time either of them have been at either of their flats- so she’s a little anxious. It’s another layer of the relationship they’re adding on, and the thought of things getting a little more serious makes Vanessa’s heart flutter.

So her head is thrown into a tailspin when the elevator doors open onto a landing and she’s met with three doors- two closed, and the other (Brooke’s, a little gold 111 set into the smooth grey exterior) is ever so slightly ajar. Vanessa narrows her eyes, tentatively stepping out of the lift, crossing the hall, and pushing the door open a little.

“Brooke Lynn?”

Brooke’s voice replies, still something to it that Vanessa can’t quite work out. “I’m in here.”

Frowning, Vanessa steps through the doorway and into Brooke’s flat. The whole situation is so strange that she can barely take in everything she sees; a long, narrow hallway lined with high heels that leads down to what looks like a sunken living room with a cream sofa and a floor-to-ceiling view of London. There’s a room to the right halfway down the hall, though, and it seems to be where Brooke’s voice came from, so Vanessa closes the front door and hears the click of the lock behind her as she follows it. Maybe she’s in the middle of something. Maybe she’s just busy and she wants Vanessa’s company while she finishes whatever it is she’s doing.

And then, as Vanessa turns into the room, the situation becomes immediately apparent.

Brooke’s bedroom is dark- the blinds are drawn and the only light comes from a few candles that are sitting on the tidy grey dressing-table under the window and the soft pink salt lamp that sits on the bedside table. The large bed pushed up against the wall takes up most of the room, and its sheets are white and perfectly ironed and crease-free.

They serve as a perfect backdrop to the sight that’s currently greeting Vanessa- Brooke, in a matching set of black Calvin Klein underwear, curled up against the pillows and scrolling her phone. The dark material makes Brooke’s pale skin pop, and the sight of her toned thighs and stomach forces Vanessa to squeeze her thighs together in spite of herself. Brooke looks up as she enters the room and smiles smugly, clearly happy to get the reaction Vanessa’s given her.

“Hey, sweetie,” she says, her voice light and sing-song and making the entire situation worse because the fact she’s so perfectly put-together while Vanessa is slowly becoming a melting, gooey mess in front of her is, for some reason, only making her want to rip Brooke’s clothes off even more than she already does. “Come sit.”

She gently pats the space on the bed next to her and Vanessa almost knocks herself out kicking her trainers off and letting her jacket fall to the floor as she scrambles up onto the bed. She feels herself blush as Brooke gives a soft laugh (presumably in response to just how eager she is) then decides she doesn’t really care how she’s coming across as Brooke leans in and closes the gap between them, kisses her with soft Chapstick lips that Vanessa feels as if she’s addicted to. Vanessa expects the kiss to be more than it is- flames of seductive fire that make one thing lead to another all too quickly- but instead it feels as if Brooke is deliberately holding back, teasing her a little. It’s not helping Vanessa’s desperation at all, and just as she brings a hand up to rest on Brooke’s hip, Brooke breaks the kiss.

“So,” Brooke begins cryptically, as she reaches for her phone where she’d discarded it against the sheets. “I was just scrolling Instagram, you know, as you do. And, uh, I felt a little bit confused.”

Vanessa frowns in tandem with Brooke, who finally appears to reach the post she’s been looking for. Brooke’s voice keeps its light tone as she continues. “Because apparently, according to these photos…it looks like you had a cute little reunion date with your ex today?”

Vanessa’s heart drops as Brooke turns her phone to show her the long-lens photograph posted by The Sun’s Instagram account. It’s her and Kameron at the coffee shop window, taken at the exact moment that Kameron had reached out and taken her hand and Vanessa had shot her a forgiving smile and taken hers in return, probably the most affection they’ve shown each other in a whole year.

But Jesus Christ, has it been taken out of context and then some.

She’s panicking, and she can feel her mouth opening and closing rapidly as she attempts to explain herself. The one saving grace about the whole situation is that Brooke appears to be…calm? Relaxed? She’s not flown off the handle, anyway, which Vanessa wouldn’t exactly have expected, and there’s also the fact she’s in a matching underwear set so clearly can’t be that mad at her. So Vanessa finally finds her voice, tells Brooke everything- how she’d only bumped into Kameron in the shop, and how it was just a coffee and nothing more, and how she’d actually finally received closure for everything that had happened between the two of them.

As she speaks, part of Vanessa wants to bring up the fact that she and Brooke aren’t even together together, so why Brooke’s so pressed about all of this Vanessa doesn’t know.

Unless Brooke wants them to be more than what they already are. And Vanessa has fucked it.

Shit.

“It’s just all a massive misunderstandin’, honestly,” Vanessa finishes, and she’s relaxing a little more now that Brooke’s body language is warmer. “I maybe should’ve texted you but I was gonna tell you tonight anyway, I promise. I wouldn’t…I just wouldn’t mess you about like that, Brooke.”

Brooke slowly lets a bashful smile creep across her face as she nods softly. “Okay.”

And, just because she can, Vanessa pulls her in for another kiss. This time there’s a little more heat to it which makes Vanessa’s stomach flutter in anticipation, but she still feels as if Brooke’s holding back. It’s only then that Vanessa remembers how Brooke had told her she liked being in control, how much Brooke got off on hearing her beg for what she wanted the first time they’d slept together, and it all falls into place.

Oh.

Before Vanessa can say anything, Brooke’s trailing her hand from its position cupping Vanessa’s jaw down her body to rest on her waist, and Vanessa’s mouth goes ever-so-slightly dry. Brooke’s face is still close as she speaks again. “See I thought that would be the case, because I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.”

Vanessa responds by mirroring Brooke’s touches, resting her own hand against her exposed thigh and delighting as she watches something darken behind Brooke’s eyes. Her tone changes a little as she continues. “But it did get me thinking…what if you did forget how good you had it one day?”

“Won’t happen,” Vanessa shakes her head, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth as Brooke pushes up the hem of her oversized white t-shirt, rests the palm of her hand against the bare skin at her waist. Vanessa squeezes her legs together again and she watches as Brooke flicks her gaze down, suppresses a smirk badly.

“It won’t?” Brooke pouts mockingly, and Vanessa loves it. “Well, just in case…I thought I’d show you what you’d miss if you ever did think you could do better than me.”

“Fuck,” Vanessa verbalises what she’s thinking in a hiss, as Brooke tugs at the bottom of her top and removes it quickly without Vanessa having to do anything other than raise her hands above her head.

Brooke dips her down so that her head’s resting against the pillows and presses kisses to Vanessa’s jaw, neck, collarbone, right down to the lace of her bra. Vanessa’s pulse is racing and she finds herself already spreading her legs, unable to help the way she needs Brooke to touch her.

“God, you’re so needy,” Brooke tuts disapprovingly into her skin, briefly reaching her hands under Vanessa’s back in an attempt to unhook her bra. Vanessa’s stomach tenses as she lifts herself off the mattress to help her, and soon the bra that she spent entirely too long picking out this morning is thrown halfway across the room onto the dark wood of Brooke’s bedroom floor.

“Says the girl that’s trying to get my boobs out in the first two minutes of foreplay- ah!” Vanessa cuts herself off as Brooke sucks a hickey into her collarbone. If she wanted to get Vanessa to shut up she’s succeeded, and so Vanessa instead focuses her attention on trailing her nails up and down Brooke’s back, delighting in the way the other girl shivers gently at the contact.

Brooke brings her lips up to meet Vanessa’s and she licks gently into her mouth as she strokes her thumb over one of her nipples, the contact making Vanessa flinch against the bed in the best kind of way. Vanessa trails a hand up Brooke’s back and pushes her fingers into her hair, and when Brooke breaks away her stomach flips at the way it’s all messed up and imperfect. Paired with Brooke’s blown pupils and plush lips, it’s a sight that makes Vanessa buck gently into the air almost without realising.

“Jesus. It really doesn’t take much, does it?” Brooke laughs gently as she loops a finger under the waistband of her leggings, and Vanessa shakes her head and pouts self-indulgently.

“Brooke…” she begins, then trails off when she doesn’t actually realise what she wants to say. She’s very happy to let her be in charge if this is what happens as a result, and when Brooke moves to straddle her it renders her twice as speechless as she was before.

“If this is you now, I’m almost scared for how you’re going to react when you see what I’m planning on doing to you,” Brooke says softly, the fake concern to her voice sending shockwaves rippling through Vanessa’s body. Before she can respond Vanessa gasps as Brooke pulls off her leggings, leaving her in the red thong she’d agonised over and the white ankle socks she’d put entirely less thought into. Brooke is left kneeling between Vanessa’s spread legs; dark heavy-lidded eyes, mouth hanging ever-so-slightly open. When she speaks, her voice is ragged.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” she says, and maybe it’s the simplicity of it but Brooke’s words make Vanessa feel completely naked despite what she’s still wearing.

“You’re beautiful,” Vanessa breathes out in an instant reply.

Brooke pouts and trails one of her short acrylics up Vanessa’s inner thigh, ripping a whine from her. “You sure Kameron isn’t more beautiful?”

“Jesus,” Vanessa throws her head back against the pillow and lets out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t have you down as the jealous type at all.”

When she tilts her head up Brooke’s got an unimpressed eyebrow raised at her. “You’re already in trouble, this isn’t helping your case.”

Vanessa can’t resist the urge to tease her and so she sticks her tongue out in response. “Oh what, you gonna punish me? You gonna tie me to the bed an’ spank me?”

Brooke’s gaze darkens. There’s a pause as she crawls up the bed, hovers over Vanessa with her face close. Vanessa keeps her own eyes sparkling as she stays still, challenging her to see if she’ll crack even though she wants to grab her jaw and kiss her with the same intensity they’d shown each other earlier.

“Brooke Lynn’s jeal-ous,” she sing-songs right in her face, and when Brooke pulls back she’s wearing a dark expression. Vanessa brings her hands up to rest on Brooke’s waist, traces the outline of her waistband.

And when Brooke leans over to the top drawer of her bedside table, Vanessa’s eyes widen as she instantly realises what she means.

She produces a wireless pink wand vibrator, and Vanessa’s body hotwires.

“Fuck.”

“Mm-hm,” Brooke murmurs, lips quirking in a smile. “You’re going to get punished for the stunt you decided to pull today.”

“Oh no, I hate orgasms! What a terrible punishment,” Vanessa smiles back at her, sarcastic and indulgent.

“Who says you’re going to be allowed to have any?” Brooke frowns.

Vanessa instantly realises her mistake.

“Wait…but-”

“Yeah. I’d suggest you better start being extra nice to me,” Brooke interrupts her, resting the wand down on the bed beside one of Vanessa’s thighs and hooking her fingers around the waistband of her underwear to tug it off. While this is happening Vanessa shuffles against the sheets in anticipation, something curling tightly in the pit of her stomach and the throbbing between her legs becoming impossible to ignore. She wants so badly to be touched, wants Brooke to feel how wet she is and for her eyes to go all wide when she realises she’s the one that’s got her this worked up, but instead of her fingers or her tongue she’s using that stupid fucking vibrator and she’s not even going to be allowed to come.

Fuck.

“Please, Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa pouts, letting a hand trail up Brooke’s thigh from where she’s positioned herself between her legs.

Brooke gives a short laugh. “You think you’re begging me now, wait until I get started.”

“Promise I’ll be good for you,” Vanessa insists, the end of her sentence almost getting cut off with a gasp as Brooke presses the wand against her. It’s not even switched on yet but it’s something that Vanessa can grind against, and she bucks her hips gently against the head.  

“If you want me to turn it on you better keep those hips still,” Brooke says quickly, and Vanessa groans in resignation, lies still like she’s been asked.

She’s rewarded with a soft hum and a gentle buzz against her slit, and she can’t help the moan of satisfaction she gives in response as Brooke holds the wand there for a few moments, letting Vanessa get used to it. After so much build-up it feels like heaven, and the feeling leaves Vanessa wondering how long she’s going to last.

Brooke starts to swipe the wand up and down against her; lazy, slow motions that leave Vanessa squirming against the mattress every time she feels the vibrations brush against her clit. It’s not helping that Vanessa can see Brooke’s own chest rising and falling increasingly quickly, her pink, flushed cheeks, her hair all unkempt from Vanessa running her fingers through it.

“This good, babe?” Brooke asks, her tone ragged and her voice hoarse. When she snaps her gaze up to meet Vanessa’s eyes her pupils are blown and black and it sends an arrow through Vanessa’s heart that instantly shatters it as if it’s a piñata full of confetti.

“Mm,” is all Vanessa can manage, along with a rapid nod against the pillow.

“Not quite hearing a yes or a no there,” Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I should just turn it off-”

“No, no, no, no! It’s good, it’s good, fuck, yes, please don’t stop,” Vanessa instantly reels off as if it’s a frantic prayer. Brooke’s probably the closest thing to religion she’s experienced in months.

“You sure? You sure Kameron wouldn’t do it better?” Brooke says teasingly, wiggling the vibrator against her clit as if to make a point and sending Vanessa into the stratosphere.

“No, I promise, I promise, babe, please, please, please,” she whines. She can hear herself pleading and she hopes it’ll help Brooke come round to the idea of letting her orgasm because if Brooke ups the setting on her wand then there’s no way she’s going to be able to exercise any form of restraint.

Brooke switches back to slowly sliding the vibrator against her, and Vanessa can feel Brooke’s grip on her thigh tighten.

“Fuck, I can see how wet you are from here.”

Vanessa feels herself throb, her body responding to Brooke’s words before she can. She fists both her her hands into the sheets, can’t see her knuckles but knows they’ve gone white. “You wanna taste me so bad.”

“So much,” Brooke pouts, nodding slowly. “But…you need to lie there and take your punishment.”

“Fuck. I miss when you were too shy to talk during sex,” Vanessa huffs, grumpy, and she’s immediately stopped from saying any more as the wand buzzes that little bit more intensely against her. Brooke brings it back up to her clit, rubs it in slow, small circles that drive Vanessa wild and render her almost incapable of thought.

“Sounds like you’re the one who can’t talk during sex,” Brooke deadpans, squeezing Vanessa’s thigh to punctuate her point.

She can feel how slick the wand is against her, only illustrating how wet she is. The hum of the vibrator and the gasps Vanessa can hear herself making are heightening her senses; it’s too much and not enough all at once. Both Brooke’s teasing and the sensation of the wand vibrating against her is making Vanessa’s inevitable orgasm build inside her, and it’s only a matter of time before she hits boiling point.

“Brooke- ah!- please…don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last…”

“Oh, no way,” Brooke says darkly, and in an instant the vibrator is off and Vanessa’s back is arching off the bed in frustration as she cries out in disappointment. “You don’t get to come yet, babe, not after the sass you just gave me.”

Vanessa instantly regrets opening her stupid mouth and teasing Brooke more than anything she’s ever regretted before in her life. She whines, reaches her hips up into the air as if she’s going to generate friction from nowhere, and Brooke’s pouting in mock-sympathy. Vanessa knows she could just spring up from her position against the bed, grab Brooke’s face and kiss her and pin her down and take the control back, but there’s part of her that knows how unbelievably satisfying it’s going to be when she does get to come if she’s this worked up already.

Brooke’s watching her with heavy-lidded eyes as she traces up her leg then fans her fingers out over her inner thigh and rubs her thumb against her clit. The contact makes Vanessa’s eyes almost roll into the back of her head; the wand has heightened her sensitivity and she’s by now so slick and wet from all of Brooke’s teasing that with every little rub of her thumb Vanessa can feel the fire between her thighs become completely out of control.

“God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this to you every fucking day since Blackpool,” Brooke bites her lip, and Vanessa bucks against her thumb helplessly. “We’d be having to rehearse but all I wanted to do was just to make you beg for it again and again, fuck.”

“Should’ve told me.”

“Mm. I almost texted you about it. One of the nights I was lying in bed fucking myself with my fingers and remembering how good yours felt…remembering how you felt like fucking heaven underneath me…I could’ve sent you so many pictures that night…”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ you need to stop talking or I’m gonna come,” Vanessa squeezes her eyes shut. Brooke’s still teasing her clit and Vanessa knows she’s deliberately applying just not quite enough pressure. She’s so on edge and it feels like the most incredible form of torture.

“You want the wand back, sweetie?”

“Please, fuck, yes,” Vanessa begs, almost wanting to sob. When Brooke’s thumb gets replaced by the vibrating head of the wand she feels lightheaded, lets out a cry that she instantly knows Brooke’s neighbours will hear but she doesn’t care. Brooke’s teasing her badly, holding the wand against her, taking it away for a second, then replacing it, and Vanessa feels so sorry for herself that she starts pleading with her.

“Keep it on me, please,” she gasps out, and when she looks up at Brooke she’s smiling at her wickedly.

“Like this?”

Brooke ups the intensity the moment she makes contact and Vanessa can practically feel herself give a little gush against the wand. Her breath is coming in shallow gasps now, and she’s only just registering the fact that Brooke’s got her hand that isn’t holding the wand down under the waistband of her own underwear, playing with herself. There’s a light sheen of sweat against her chest that’s making her glow like an angel and the way her chest is rising and falling is mirroring Vanessa’s.

Vanessa now realises why people yell out declarations of love right in the middle of their orgasm.

“Why don’t you tell me how much you like it?” Brooke murmurs. Vanessa can see her bucking against her fingers and the sight makes her press herself down against the wand, the way the vibrations roll over her clit in waves making her want to scream.

“So much…so fucking much…”

“Anyone else gonna fuck you like me?”

“No, baby, no-one else, just you, fuck, only you,” Vanessa whimpers. She looks up at Brooke and the sight of her eyes closed in ecstasy, grinding against her fingers and her nipples hard through the fabric of her bra is enough to tip Vanessa on a very gradual decline over the edge. “Fuck, can I come, please?”

“Yes, babe, you can come.”

When Vanessa feels her clit sieze up then pulse frantically against the vibrations of the wand, she shouts out into the bedroom, the pace of her fuck, fuck, fuck in sync with the waves of her orgasm flooding through her body. Brooke holds the wand against her until she’s sure she’s finished and Vanessa can only lie against the mattress, completely worn out and exhausted, as she watches Brooke take the wand and hold it between her own legs, the thin material of her underwear dark between her legs as Vanessa realises just how wet Brooke must be as well.

And even though Vanessa’s too worn out to help her out in the way she wants to, it doesn’t stop her from sliding a lazy hand up her thigh. She takes a couple of shallow breaths before pouting up at Brooke.

“Aww. Did watching me get you too worked up, baby?”

“Mm-hm,” Brooke hums in reply, running her tongue over her bottom lip as she squeezes her eyes shut. It gives her an idea.

“Not used my mouth on you yet. Bet you wish I was doin’ it now.”

“Fuck, Vanessa, keep talking.”

“You don’t get to boss me around any more, princess. Keep talking what?”

Brooke’s face contorts into a frown as she ruts against the wand, eyes still closed. “Keep talking please.”

“Good girl,” Vanessa purrs, and she almost feels as if she could go for round two as she hears the way Brooke gasps in delight at the praise. “You want me to tell you how much I want to put my tongue between your legs and taste you and watch you come apart under me?”

“Ah…”

“Maybe you don’t want that, though. Maybe you want to sit on my face instead. Ride my tongue and shut me up so I can’t talk back to you and drip all over my face all dirty while I just lie there and take it like a good girl.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brooke hisses out. Vanessa’s surprising herself with what’s coming out of her mouth and how absolutely filthy it all is but she’s going with it because she knows Brooke’s close.

“Tell me how much you want it.”

“Fuck, want it so much.”

“You’re so close, aren’t you?”

“Vanessa…fuck, please…”

Vanessa regains enough strength to sit up and cup Brooke’s face with her hands, meeting her lips with her own and teasing her with a slow, deep kiss. Vanessa flicks her tongue inside her mouth and when she rubs it over Brooke’s she cries out against her lips, her moans almost-but-not-quite swallowed by Vanessa’s kiss as she comes.

Brooke breaks away as she falls against the mattress and Vanessa follows her, lying down beside her and gently switching the wand off. They lay there in silence, Brooke’s gasps and the buzzing in Vanessa’s ears the only things she can still focus on until Brooke reaches out a hand to curl around one of Vanessa’s. Vanessa throws a leg over Brooke, pulls her closer so that Vanessa can rest her head against her chest and feel her frantic heartbeat.

“Fuck me,” Brooke whispers breathlessly, and Vanessa lets out a chuckle.

“What, again? Thought you’d at least want a break first.”

“Shut up,” Brooke giggles. There’s a pause as she presses her lips to Vanessa’s head, mouths something Vanessa can’t hear or see. Then she mutters again, a little louder. “You’re so amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Vanessa replies childishly, though the way Brooke’s chest judders against her in a laugh Vanessa assumes she doesn’t mind. She flinches a little as Brooke’s stomach gives a loud rumble. “Oh yeah. Forgot you were meant to be making dinner.”

“Hey, I have made dinner thank you very much! It’s in the slow cooker. Cuban beef and rice if that’s okay?” Brooke asks, and Vanessa doesn’t miss the little nervous tone in her voice. It’s adorable.

“Sure it is.”

Brooke lends Vanessa some pyjamas to shove on in lieu of the outfit she’d arrived in, and Vanessa’s heart swells a little at the implication that she’s going to be staying over. She’s not sure if she’ll try and breach the subject of what they are tonight- the evening is already so perfect and Vanessa doesn’t want to ruin anything, especially not when they’re curled up on the sofa with bowls of warm food in their laps and laughing guiltily at the way Jan is sobbing because she and Jackie have become the latest ones to leave the competition after a tense dance-off with Crystal and Gigi.  

“It’ll be a close final, though. Like that’s everyone been in the bottom now,” Vanessa contemplates, tilting her head in thought from her position at the other side of the sofa. Brooke nods, then snorts again.

“God. I feel for Jan, but she just has such a memeable crying face. Like Kim K,” Brooke snorts again, as some ridiculous BBC One gameshow that seems to be based around celebrities strapped into a wheel starts in the background.

“Jan’ll be fine. She’ll recover, she’s a big girl. She’s got Jackie anyway,” Vanessa shrugs. Brooke hums in response, and then there’s a palpable silence that fills the room, almost like Brooke is about to say something. Vanessa waits.

“So today got me thinking,” Brooke finally says, reaching out and curling her fingers around Vanessa’s. Her eyes are in her lap and she’s not meeting her gaze. Vanessa is, in every sense, on the edge of her seat.

“Uh-huh?”

“When I saw those pictures of you and Kameron,” Brooke continues, the reminder making Vanessa’s heart drop. “I got so envious…and then I thought, well…what’s the only way I can make sure Vanessa’s just mine?”

Brooke finally looks at her, and every fibre of Vanessa’s being lifts in hope. “So, uh, I was wondering…if you would want to be my girlfriend.”

And when Vanessa blinks, she can see fireworks explode behind her eyes. She’s unable to help the huge, dumb smile that breaks out on her face as she blushes shyly, gives a nod.

“‘Course I would, baby.”

The smile that bursts onto Brooke’s face mirrors her own, and Vanessa can’t help but lean in and pepper Brooke’s face with kisses, wrap her arms around her in a cuddle.

“Officially yours, now,” Vanessa smiles excitedly, as she rests her head against Brooke’s chest. She can’t see Brooke’s face, but she knows she’s smiling too.

And suddenly, a little sentence appears in Vanessa’s head, three very small and simple words that she’s not thought about in a long time but just make sense in that moment. She looks up at Brooke, meets her gaze and feels her heart thump.

Maybe she can save that for another day.

[ll-underestimated-ll]

Answering All Questions from a Prompt Cos I Do What I Want

1. What’s one experience your character had that made them very afraid?

The first time he woke up to find that what he’d dismissed as being entirely the formation of one of his nightmares - was very much real. Prompted the realisation of just how much harm he was capable of doing.

2. Does your character have a deep and/or dark secret? If so, what is it?

Leo doesn’t let people know that his sire & grandsire never entirely aligned themselves with the Camarilla. Considering it took him some time to work that out himself he holds hope that at his current age people simply won’t go digging. There is also generally a lot of things he’s done in the name of fulfilling some role or another that he feels deep shame for. That’s less kept secret and more... he just doesn’t speak about it.

3. Have they ever lost a loved one? What happened to them, and are they the same as they were before they lost them?

Many. Regularly. Loss is simply part of un-life for him. The fact he hasn’t lost anyone near and dear to him over the last half a century hangs over him like a bad omen. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. But a short list of the most notable losses that had an summary of their impact on him:  - Eldest brother : sickness/starvation ~1510 - resulted in Leo taking on a survivalist ‘me before others’ attitude. - Best friend : first feed post-embrace 1516 - made him terrified of himself for several years - First wife : Mother order him to burn her to death late-1520s - made him highly aware of the fact that he can be turned on people he’s cared about  - Ell (one of his ‘siblings’) : sent on a suicide mission Mother had him sign off on ~1630?1620? - was the last straw in hammering home what he’d already seen over the course of being blood bonded. They were all disposable to her, and it was only a matter of time before he’d meet the same fate. - Nossie he’d fallen for : execution 1940s - after he had committed several masquerade breaches Vindr ordered Leo to use trust he had with him to follow through with the execution. It’d been a long time since he’d killed someone that dear to him and the ease at which he did it unsettled even himself. 

4. Has your character ever been hurt or betrayed by someone they thought they could depend on? What happened?

Yes. He’d had ‘siblings’ try to double-cross him on plenty of occasions. Usually was via trying to pin the blame for something on him.

5. Would they ever turn on someone they just met in order to save themselves?

Yes.

6. Have they ever committed a crime, or something they felt was wrong? What was it?

The entire Crimes Act. At least, as far as he has the capacity for doing so.

7. If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would it be and why?

Vindr. The time spent blood bonded to each other between 1860 - 1989.

8. Does your character have any enemies? If so, who and why?

There are several hunters based in the country he’s trying to figure out how to get rid off without causing a scene or draw any attention to. They’re a threat to his community. 

9. Is the character a victim of abuse?

Yes.

10. What were the character’s parents like? What was the affect the parents had on the character?

His father was a minor merchant managing the coming and goings of goods from his home village. His work placed them above standard serfdom allowing him the chance to learn basic reading and writing before his sire (Mother) adopted him. Any influence they had on him has long since been overshadowed by other things.

11. What are your character’s coping mechanisms?

Burying himself in work and activities. Finding relatable aspects in fictional characters. Joking around and making the most of opportunities where he doesn’t have to take things too seriously.

12. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering?

After lifetimes of suffering he’d prefer to avoid it. However he does have a cruel streak and enjoy seeing other people suffer. Has that ‘it’ll build character’ and ‘it’s not that bad so suck it up’ sort of attitude towards other peoples shit. Sometimes he just wants someone to suffer as a way to exercise control over them.

13. What does it take to make your character cry?

Simultaneously a lot, and also real minor stuff. Ya know, the standard shit to come from suppressing/bottling up your reactions to incredibly straining situations. He’ll be cold and apathetic in some incredibly horrible situation he ought to cry about. Then some time later break down post screaming fit at some inanimate object because it wasn’t cooperating with him.

14. What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?

Other than his prioritisation of maintaining his own power and survival over anything else? The fact he’s stuck at 16 years old. That’s an incredibly difficult thing to work around - even when in a relationship based purely on romantic feelings. These modern nights he feels that both physical and overall age lock him out of legitimate relationships entirely. To the point where he doesn’t even play at stringing people along on one sided things ~for the drama~ like he used to. 

This particular reason is what’s had him friendzoned by the twins, despite them being the best probably candidate and him pulling kind of a Edward on them.

15. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

Biggest fear is hard to pinpoint, but in general the concept of being completely helpless and not in control of his own actions. When scared he gets paranoid and hyper-vigilant of his surroundings. Very on guard towards any threats and looking for away to run away.

16. What are your character’s vices and bad habits?

Impulsiveness. Knowingly causing harm. Smoking.

17. Is your character afraid of death? Why/why not?

Absolutely. He doesn’t even like to think about what final death will have in store for him.

18. Would society call your character a good guy or a bad guy? what would they say they are?

From societies perspective from everything he’s been involved with - 120% a bad guy. He’d say the same and mark himself down as being an Anti-hero at best. 

19. What is your character insecure about?

His own paranoia causing him to flip from being impulse to being incredibly indecisive at times.

20.  What was something they struggled with greatly and how did they overcome it?

Being blood bonded. Overcome through a mix of share force of will and personal introspection.

21. Does your character have anyone that they really care about, to the point that they would give their life for them? If so, who are they and what is your character’s relation to them? If not, do they wish they did? Is there anyone they wish they could build such a relationship with?

While he doesn’t think he’d give his lives for them because that sort of behaviour is incredibly foolish in his eyes - his current found family from the past century. His central coterie of the twins and Alexandra in particular. He will throw just about everyone in his city under the bus in the name of protecting them. And, they’d do the same. In post-prince verse when his city falls Alex ends up the one sacrificing her life for him and god the guilt is sickening.

He’s quite happy with his current little familial circle but he’s hoping to get closer with Danny. Get him to be part of that found family circle properly.

22. If they could change just one thing about themselves, what would it be?

He’d like to have the capacity to care for people without feeling like he’s going to inevitably be their downfall.

23. Is your character more physically or emotionally strong? Why is this?

If we’re talking strong in terms of taking blows that can be taken I wanna say physically cos despite it being his lowest stat his Fortitude is high so he soaks damage fairly easily.

24. What is your character’s most important possession? Why?

He still has his signet ring from when he fled his Mother. Not even he knows just how much that it means to him. It’s intensely sentimental to him as the only physical possession he has left of that era of his life. Someone stole it from him while he was living in London and he made quite the mess of them to get it back.

25. Do they find that they care what others think of them? Or do they not really mind how others view them?

He flip flops wildly between caring intensely about what others think of him and not giving a singular shit. It depends on the crowd and his motivations. In general his preference is to have people to like him and see him as above them in some way.

26. What, in your character’s life, puts the most pressure on them?

The community he’s Prince of. He sees his role as being to protect them at the end of the day and sometimes that means doing things they don’t like. But doing things they dislike gets push back and push back de-legitimises his power as Prince.

27.  What would be the worst way to die, in your character’s opinion?

How he almost died when I used him briefly as a PC. Disgraced. Looked down upon with no dignity by everyone around him in a city he’s unfamiliar with. Nobody. Nothing. The last of his city. A waste of the self sacrifice from those he loved. Crying, screaming desperately trying to claw his way out of capture at the hands of those that don’t know tossing him in a holding cell where light can get to him will kill him.

28. What is your character’s greatest strength?

In mun’s opinion, the fact that despite everything he’s been through and seen...the fact that he just keeps going.

29. What is their weapon of choice, and what weapon do they dislike using the most?

Social manipulation so that combat is avoided in the first place. But, he’s always had a liking for firearms and actually quite likes using them. He dislikes fighting with his bare hands.

30. What makes them feel safe or secure? What makes them feel insecure or unsafe?

He feels most safe when either alone or the only people around him are those he has blood bonded. He feels deeply uncomfortable around kindred that are of a lower generation than him. With dominate as a main discipline he finds that not being able to resort to it suddenly makes all interactions with the person he’s interacting with very threatening.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Save A Spot For Me

Fandom: Marvel (College AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

As requested by anonymous: Bucky Barnes x reader where he always saves a spot for her in their one uni class and everyone noticed and ships them

You: sooooo...here’s the thing..

Bucky: late again.

You: yup. save a seat for me?

Bucky: of course

You: 😁 thanks!

Bucky shakes his head with a fond look on his face. He pulls open the door to his next class, one that you share with him. When he entered the lecture hall, there were already a few students in their preferred seats. 

Bucky made his way to one of the middle rows, choosing a seat for him and then proceeding to place his things in the seat beside him, a place for you. As he dug out his supplies for the class, his buddy, Sam, waltzed into the room, heading straight for the seat next to Bucky, the one he was saving for you. 

As soon as Sam grabbed for Bucky’s bag, he was stopped, “Hey, hey! Woah! That’s Y/N’s seat!”

Sam snorted, “And where’s Y/N right now?”

Bucky shrugged, “Said she was gonna be late.”

Sam shook his head, “Snooze, you lose!” he proceeds to move Bucky’s bag to the floor and sits in the seat that was preserved for you.

The brunette frowned, “You couldn’t have just sat in the other chair beside me?” with a shake of his head, Bucky moved his things to the other chair next to him. He then pulled out his notes and began to read the content from last lecture. 

Soon enough, more and more students began to file into the hall. Whenever one would come up to Bucky, they’d ask, “Y/N’s seat?” to which he’d give them a sorry look accompanied with a nod. However, many didn’t seem too upset. Oddly enough, people would smirk at him or give him a knowing look. 

“Why are people looking at me weird whenever I say that I’m saving a seat for Y/N?”

Sam chuckled, “Probably because we can all see how much you like her?”

Bucky scoffed, “What? No! I-I don’t like her! We’re just friends!”

“Mhmmmmm, keep tellin’ yourself that, man,” Sam gave a looking showing that he was unconvinced by Bucky’s words. 

Bucky frowned. He opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted when Professor Coulson entered the room. His mouth shut immediately and he picked up his pen, ready to take notes. 

____________

You absolutely hated living off campus. Well, no, that’s not entirely true. Living off campus meant you didn’t have to deal with the RAs, campus police, annoying floor mates, sharing bathrooms with 50+ people, etc. You had more privacy, a bathroom you had to shared with 3 people, and amazing roommates. The downside was not having the convenience of being closer to your classes. Instead, you had to take the bus to campus and the bus was never reliable. Like today. The bus driver decided to take a different route to the college than the usual and it’s going to make you late. Again! This will be your fourth tardy to class and you’re really hoping Coulson doesn’t rip you a new one in front of everybody. 

At least Bucky said he’ll save you a seat. He’s a nice person like that. A nice person with gorgeous blue eyes, a beautiful smile, soft chocolate brown hair-UGH! Get it together, Y/N! You can’t crush on your friend like that. Was he a friend? You don’t really hang out outside of class. And you two usually only text about school. Maybe he’s not a friend then. But you’d like to be his friend...maybe more. 

The bus finally arrives to campus and you mutter, “Finally!” under your breath as you practically hop off the vehicle and run towards the lecture hall. You’re twenty minutes late. 

You head towards the back door of the lecture hall, slipping in as quietly as you can. You look down to see Bucky and you tip toe over to his row, whispering apologies to the students you pass. Bucky spots you and shoots a smile, removing his bag from your spot. You’re grateful that Coulson’s back is to you as he’s drawing a graph onto the board. 

Just as you’re about to sit down, Coulson calls out your name, “Y/N, you know the rules.”

Everyone’s eyes turn to you, staring expectedly. You sigh, straightening your form as you stand, “I’m Y/N L/N and I’m late because my bus driver thought it was a good idea to take a different route to campus, which made me twenty-five minutes late to class.”

Coulson nodded when you sat down, “Alright. Now as I was saying-”

You drown out Coulson’s voice as you hurriedly open your notebook to write down all of the notes he’d put on the board. When he begins to erase them, you open your mouth to tell him to wait, but Bucky’s hand lands on your arm. He scribbles down something at the corner of his page. You lean in and read it:

Don’t worry. You can copy my notes later. ;)

Your shoulders deflate with relief and you mouth, “Thank you,” to him. 

He shrugs and mouths back, “You’re welcome,” then goes back to writing out his notes. 

After class, Coulson calls you up to his desk and you feel yourself tense as you approach, “Yes, sir?”

“So, I hate to do this, because you’re actually a really great student and you’re doing so well in my class, but I do have to give you a warning that if you’re late again, that’s an automatic absence.”

You nod understandingly, “I know, sir. I don’t mean to be late, you know. It’s just the bus-”

“I understand, but why doesn’t your boyfriend give you a ride?”

You look at him confusedly, “Boyfriend?”

“Barnes,” he says with a smirk, “The guy who always saves you a seat and secretly gives you heart eyes whenever you speak up in class?”

You honestly didn’t know what to say to that, “O-Oh, uh, Bucky and I-”

“Babe, you ready to go?” you look to the door and see Bucky’s head popping in. 

“Uh, yeah?” you say unsurely. 

He nods, “Let’s go then! Sam and Steve are waiting for us so we can head to lunch!”

“O-Okay!” you say and shoot a nervous smile to Coulson, who’s practically beaming at you. You wave at your professor and exit the lecture hall. 

You then frown at Bucky, “Why’d you do that? Now he thinks we’re dating!”

He chuckles, “You make it sound like a bad thing.” you follow him as he continues to walk towards the cafe, “Besides, you don’t wanna embarrass the guy, do ya?”

You snort, “Why not? He embarrasses me all the time!”

“Which is you fault, by the way,” Bucky says with a pointed look.

You feign offense and point a finger at him, “It’s not my fault and you know it, Barnes!”

_______________________

The day after that, you get to campus early, as you told Bucky via texting him a selfie of you on campus. He proceeds to send you a selfie back showing you he’s already at the hall with a seat saved for you. 

He waits patiently as you make your way over, doodling in his sketchbook yet another picture of you. So deep into his doodling, he doesn’t notice one of his classmates settling in the seat next to him, until another classmate from behind speaks up. 

“Hey, blondie! You better take a different spot! Barnes doesn’t like anyone else sitting next to him other than his tardy girlfriend!” 

Bucky grunts in dismay when he realizes Brock Rumlow, the campus asshole, is speaking. He looks over his shoulder with a frown, “Shut up, Rumlow, before you dumb down everyone’s IQ!” he then turns to his classmate with a sorry expression, “Sorry about him...Sharon, right?”

She nods, “Yeah, and sorry. I didn’t know this was Y/N’s seat. I usually sit up front, but my neck is starting to hurt since he’s been using the overhead lately. I’ll move down a seat.”

“I really am sorry.”

She shakes his head, “Don’t be. I think it’s cute that you do that for Y/N. You really like her, huh?”

Bucky feels his face start to heat up, “Well, uh, yeah.”

“You guys would make such a cute couple. You should ask her out! In fact, bring her to movie night that my sorority is holding for the school! It’s a thriller movie so if she gets scared, you can hold her and stuff.”

He nervously chuckles, “Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it.”

“I hope you mean about the movie and not asking her out. Because you should definitely do it,” she sends him a wink and then moves down a seat. 

A few minutes later, you burst into the room, earning a few playful hollers and applause from some students. You take a bow and then continue to climb the steps towards your seat. You carefully place a coffee cup onto Bucky’s desk, “Here.”

He takes it with a scrunch of his nose, “What’s this for?”

You settle in your seat and gave a shrug, “I mean, you save me a spot for every class. You don’t have to, but you do. So thanks for saving me the effort of looking like a dumbass for searching the room for an empty spot.”

“You’re welcome, but it’s not a big deal.”

“Still. I wanna thank you.”

“While I appreciate the coffee, maybe you can thank me another way?” he then slaps himself on the forehead, “Wait! I just realized how that sounds and that’s not what I meant!”

You throw your head back with a cackle, “I didn’t think of it that way at first, but now that you pointed it out, yeah, it sounds wrong.”

Bucky groans, “Sorry. Sorry. Anyway, what I meant was that...maybe you wanna...go on a date sometime?”

“S-Sure!” you say surprisingly. 

“Great!” Bucky says with much relief, “I hear there’s a movie night comin’ up. Wanna go?”

“I heard it’s a scary movie so I’ll definitely be covering my eyes for most of the film, but sure.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand and protect you if need be,” he says with a smirk. 

“HALLELUJAH! PRAISE THE LORD!” a booming voice echoes throughout the lecture hall. All eyes land on Sam, who’s standing on the other side of Bucky. He cups his hands around his mouth and hollers, “LADIES, GENTLEMEN, AND THOSE IN-BETWEEN, JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES HAS FINALLY ASKED Y/N L/N OUT!” students from all over the room burst into applause and cheers which makes you and Bucky want the ground to open up and eat you both. 

[musedblues]

Always Something There To Remind Me [Part: 1]

summary:  Home is where the heart is. You're working on finding yours. After a handful of misfortunes, your old friend Joe helps to unravel life's greatest mystery while adding a bit of extra grief to the mix.

warning: Major character death, mentions of car crash, angst, and general sadness

w/c: 2k

a/n: Proceed with caution this fic will probably break your heart. This first part deals with a lot of backstory. It's been really cathartic for me to start writing this. It will be my first full-blown chapter fic, so stay tuned for more sorrow! (but it gets sweeter, I swear!)

Part 2

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"I'll just miss you." Joe cast his sad eyes to the airport gates. You would miss him too, but you knew you'd end up back together. You always seemed too.

"Just try and remember what it was like before we met. But don't forget to call me!" You teased, full of adrenalin that surged through your feet and charged you away from your home, family, and very best friend.

///

For a little while, you measured time before and after moving to New York. Your father split before New York. Your mother had a break down before New York. Then you moved. Your mother became a sought after wedding photographer in New York. You started and finished high school in New York. You made a very best friend in New York.

As hard as it was to leave Joe behind, that timeline was eventually skewed after you moved to Wales. You met Kris in Wales. Then, every single thing before Kris faded into relative obscurity. Even the dream you had in every place you lived before.

You wanted to play the piano. You played every dance recital, choir practice, and bar mitzvah that came across your highschool bulletin board. Through a series of whims after graduating, you decided to move to London to play the piano in shopping malls and hotel lobbies while waiting for better gigs.

Kris singled you out during a show one of those late-night low down venues and demanded you play some Eton John number. He utterly charmed you and raved about your talent, and showed up every night you were on the bill with another outlandish request. His request eventually blossomed outside of the musical universe. He asked you to come up to his hotel. He asked you to go to dinner. He asked you to move back to his home town, Wales.

You were hot on his trail, blinded by his pretty blue eyes and the fun you'd been having together. Kris played the guitar. He drove you deep into the lush green fields where sheep roamed between castles and posh shops popped up across the road from his tiny brick one-bedroom flat, where you moved in no questions asked. Kris took you to all of his gigs, which mostly consisted of county festivals and birthday parties. Kris eventually stopped opening party invitations to strictly play bar gigs. They would barely bring in enough money to pay rent, but Kris gained more of a following and he swore that was more important.

You picked up a job tending one of the more hip pubs trafficked by college kids and hardly any creeps. That's where you met Tegan. She had long dark hair, and you'd never seen her without a smear of dark eye shadow surrounding her big green eyes. She trained you on the drink specials and Welsh slang, and in turn, you told her all of your secrets.

Kris started traveling to bars in the surrounding cities, drinking more than he played the guitar but somehow scraping up enough money to go out and do it again the next night. You stayed behind your bar top and bonded with Tegan like a long lost twin. She understood you, and you respected her. Not only for her values and opinions but for the way she let you take extra long breaks to call your best friend, Joe. The one from New York, before Wales.

"When are you gonna come home?" Joe whined like a little boy through the cell phone static that represented the time and space between you.

"Why? You're never there. You're in L.A. and Australia and everywhere but New York." You laughed bitterly into the phone. You weren't upset with Joe at all. You just missed him. You missed walking across the street from your porch to his, to wait for the school bus. You missed ditching school dances to drive to Coney Island without telling your parents. You missed movie nights, and cheating on homework, and spying on each others dates from across your favorite diner.

Life was easier back then, and no not just because you were young and dumb. There was plenty of sadness. Like on your senior trip to Canada, when your drink got spiked. Or when Joe nearly died of pneumonia. The time you got kicked off the volleyball team for covering up one of your teammate's terrible pranks. And the time Joe got punched in the face and needed stitches, when some new bully moved into town and found out your best friend was the "whiny prick" from Jurassic Park. But you were together for it all, and that's what you missed. It was the way you could tell Joe anything and the way you made him laugh that coated your memory in a golden sheen. He visited you in London once. And you flew home one Christmas not so long ago, and celebrated with his family across the street, like always. But you hadn't seen Joe since you moved to Wales, and your vision was going grey around the edges.

But Kris was all you could see, anyway. He was outlandishly handsome. He read all your favorite books. He held your hand on rollercoasters and taught you how to cook traditional Welsh food. He listened to you play the piano and encouraged you to go out and perform. That was the whole reason you traveled overseas. He would ask you to play your keyboard when he practiced his guitar and you spent the majority of your time in that corner of the room where you kept your instruments. But Kris wasn't getting enough gigs, so your night shift was becoming more demanding, and you stopped practicing. He started to drink. He said it was because he felt bad for the way you'd had to pick up shifts to support the pair of you. So he decided to prove his musical worth by going out every night, booking gigs far and wide. Kris played new bars every night, one's you'd never heard of till he told you on his way out of the door.

Then he stopped telling you when he'd be home. Tegan would come over to keep you company on weekends. Kris would miss birthdays and holidays. Tegan was always sleeping on your sofa via your invitation. You traded stories about your favorite things and your childhoods. You talked a lot about Joe, because he used to always be around. Tegan listened, and eventually started joining you on weekly facetime calls with Joe. He was glad to see you'd made such a valuable friend and to talk to Tegan like he knew her just as well. He was still the best friend you ever had thousands of miles away.

Tegan took you on a trip, one odd summer day, calling it a distraction. When you ended up in Dan yr Ogof, you knew you'd made a life long friend in Tegan. The lush green park was decorated with life-sized dinosaur statues and the cafe on grounds served dino shaped nuggets. When you sat down to eat you facetimed Joe, and took him on a digital tour of the dinosaurs scattered around the entrance. He was thrilled that you thought to call and show off the wonder you were surrounded by, and seemed so sad to hang up. You wished he could be there to spew made up dinosaur facts and pose for pictures. But you had Tegan. She was all smiles, holding your hand while you toured the caves and admired the nature all around you.

In the years you'd lived in Wales, you'd never heard of Dan yr Ogof, but were glad to have wound up there with your Tegan. It was like the best of both of your worlds. When strolled around the park and found a couple fake velociraptor bursting from falsely hatching eggs, you just stopped and stared for a moment. Tegan came around to look at her paper map of where to go next, and you wished for an option to go all the way back to freshman year. When Joe was embarrassed to tell you about the movies he'd been in, and how normal every day felt doing homework at his dinner table. You missed that normality. You wished it was normal to see him... to see anyone each and every day.

You tried to fix that by calling your mom every morning. You rambled for hours and even kept your phone turned on behind the bar during shifts. Tegan worked with you most days, but she had her own life. You even stopped hearing so much from your best friend, Joe. Texts would be responded to too late and voicemails only reminded you how far away you were. Messages from Joe were peppered between a few from Kris, who would call you drunk with promises he'd be home soon.

The day's your boyfriend did make it to your shared bed, you would just be getting home at sunrise from a shift. He would be gone when you woke up, out to another gig.

Then Kris skipped out for a whole month, and wouldn't answer any of your calls. You tearfully sold your keyboard for cash to keep groceries in your cabinet but practically lived behind the pub counter to make sure you'd never run out of money again. Tegan took you out to dinner and to films, but movies made you sad. They reminded you of Joe, who you'd see pop up on the television screen more than you heard from him directly, by then. Tegan would ask about him, knowing your old stories were like stars in the black ink darkness, but she learned to stop asking. Why wasn't anyone around anymore? Your family and friends remained frozen in photographs on social media, and you spent Christmas alone in your boyfriend's house.

When he came back home all you did was fight. He refused to tell you where he'd been, and you snapped his vintage mandolin in pieces in a brokenhearted rage. You slept in the same bed but stopped speaking to each other, just floating through the motions like ghosts- for weeks. And then he was gone again. I could just leave too, ya know?  You realized. I could get up and be gone the next day. But where to?

You spent one long day on the phone with your mother, talking over what to do and how you felt and how much you missed Joe.  

"He's in London now. Didn't you know that? Has been for a while." Your mother gently revealed. She would have known because his family lived right across the street. Because his parents loved your mother, and she still attended every cookout and birthday party even after you moved away. The Mazzello's were more than just your neighbors. Your mother was privy to everything Mrs. Mazzello told her on their weekend shopping trips and scheduled brunches.

"I didn't." You breathed heavily. Maybe you should have known. Maybe Joe had warned you in one of his voice mails you'd let pile up.

"He's filming there. You should call him, Y/N." Filming meant staying. Joe was five hours away from you, but you'd never felt further apart.

"Well, I might not be here much longer anyway." You reminded your mother.

Something in your gut was telling you to get out of Wales, that there was no point in your sticking around. But what about Tegan? You would wither into a humorless husk without her banter from the other end of the bar top. What about those dog-rose flowers you planted outside of your tiny little home? What if Kris stopped drinking and you could start listening to records together again? You built a life here. You made friends with the women at the market and the men at the bank. You didn't even care if Kris's mother hated you, because he hated her, and you each got a kick out of every passive-aggressive Christmas gift exchange. But you'd barely spoken to Kris since the last time he left, and the days before then, you'd only swapped venom.

You mopped around the flat, wondering if you should dust the shelves, and considered how to salvage your situation. Soon, you dozed off on the sofa as the sunset and wished you didn't have to make up your mind.

You were awoken to a house without any lights on, and a pounding at your door. There was a muffled voice crying outside and your heart speed to a million miles a minute as you hurried to your feet and rubbed your tired eyes. You flipped on a light and opened the front door to find Tegan in tears, black makeup streaking down her cheeks. She threw her arms around you and mumbled cries into your neck. You managed to pull her inside and shut the door for a bit of privacy amidst her break down.

"What is going on?" You demanded calmly, holding your friend by her shoulders and looking at her face.

"You wouldn't answer your phone, I've been trying the whole way here." She explained in a rush, sucking in a shaky breath. "The car... your car. I passed it on my way home. I only knew it was yours because the guitar-shaped the air freshener was still on the mirror."  

"What?"

"I know it was your car. It's wrecked. It's..." Tegan stopped speaking to search your face. There was no time to wipe her black tears away before another one fell, she looked as if she'd seen a ghost.

"It's wrecked? You saw the guitar-shaped air freshener?" You confirmed.

"You weren't answering your phone," Tegan whispered gravely, as her lip quivered once more. Whatever she saw on the way to your place mustn't have been good at all. As you stood there watching Tegan's tears fall in silence, sirens started to whir in the distance.

Time froze to a halt as the noise grew louder and louder, piercing through your ears from just outside your window. Your heart was beating so fast you couldn't feel it until a few sharp knocks came at the door you stood next to. You didn't want to answer it. You didn't want to hear another word. But your instincts took over and you released your grip on Tegan, and opened the door.

A couple of stone-faced officers stood on your steps with no good news.

You came to find out that Kris played a gig that night, and the bar paid him in Guinness. Kris was well beyond the legal limit when he stumbled behind the wheel. Officials decided he must have swerved to avoid colliding with another vehicle and crashed through the rails of a bridge and onto the roadside below. Your boyfriend had been found without a beating heart, and yours nearly stopped at the news.

His mother blamed you for treating him so poorly, for running him off. Tegan only left your side for a couple of hours, while she went to collect a few things so she could stay over at your place. You planned a funeral and moved through the motions. But before you called your mother to tell her you were coming home, you called Joe. He didn't answer.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[nadiineross]

chlodine band au

abandoned concept 

Already, Nadine feels as if she has retired. Though she has always enjoyed routine, this is something else entirely—monotony.

Every morning she wakes up at the exact same time, drinks the same coffee, rides the same bus to work. Lunch breaks, she takes alone. The street on which she works is designed to appeal to as many people as possible, so everything is generic as it is flashy. When she had first gotten here, she had devised a list of restaurants within a five minute walk which she would try, and she still uses it as a rotation. On Mondays she eats at the American-style diner, Tuesdays are for Indian food, Wednesdays, Mexican, and so on and so forth.

Work is uninspiring and unfulfilling. Head of security in the city’s biggest music hall. The paperwork is dull and the patrols even more so. The only time she feels remotely close to who she was before Shoreline collapsed is when she’s working out at the gym. Even then, it is a poor substitute.

Routine. Simple, straightforward.

Eventually, she might let go of her resentment and learn to be grateful for the fifteen years she had with Shoreline. Now, however, she can’t help but still be bitter, even two years after it had slipped from her fingers. Her father’s doing; he had grown weak and sentimental, and dissolved the company before she could even think to step in for him. He had gone as far as to forbid her from that career and she was nothing if not dutiful as a soldier and as a daughter, even if it angered her to be so.

She hasn’t spoken to him since. She had moved away so she wouldn’t be tempted to continue their never-ending argument, and found her mind-numbing, soul-sucking job working as a cockblock to crowds of groupies when the next big thing deigned to tour in her coastal city.

She had become robotic. She felt as if she were wasting her life away, doing nothing. Though she was not retired according to the official definition of the word, she had been retired from her career as a soldier and, as someone who had cobbled their entire identity around being one, it was as good as true. Retired at 36.

These are the thoughts that plague her every waking moment. It’s not like the job requires of her more than 4 braincells. She has never been good with idle time.

On top of all that, there is a big concert tonight and will be followed by one more the following night. This, she has been dreading in the months that preceded it. The band is native to the city and, no matter what Nadine thinks of them, they are successful enough for the city to treat them as if they were its crown jewels. They aren’t even a real band—there are only two of them. How they coerced anyone to like them with a name like “Drake’s Fortune,” she will never know.

Still, she doesn’t work at The Rolling Stones, isn’t paid to opine, so she keeps it all to herself and does her job: a circuit of the building, double and triple-checking the locks on all the doors, and checking in on all the guards on duty tonight via radio.

As head of security, she doesn’t have a concrete post for the night. It’s more of a rotation, ensuring the gears are in place and well-oiled, at that. Generally, with big concerts like this, she tries to linger near the backstage to stop any zealous fans her subordinates can’t handle on their own. It hasn’t been that bad tonight and even she will admit the music isn’t terrible. But, of course, the band members themselves sound smarmy and obnoxious. From the hall, she hears the lead, Nathan, try to woo the crowd with his boyish charm and she scoffs at it. Sam the drummer and backup singer tags along and she fears she might roll her eyes so hard they become permanently affixed to the back of her head.

Probably, she has just lost her tolerance for people who are unnecessarily loud about how happy they are with their careers. The irony doesn’t escape her, doing what she does. Every other week, a new band or singer parades through town to laugh and scream and flaunt themselves on a stage in fromt of thousands. And she had been tasked with making sure they make it to the next city intact enough to do it all over again.

She misses the rest of the show, called to the entrance, and she is thankful to leave behind the sounds of the brothers Drake. After that, she has to go help out at the backdoor which takes almost an hour to handle. The thick of the crowd has mostly dissipated by the time the clock hits 12:30am and none of the band members had appeared—thank god for that.

It is another hour before she’s finally finished with all her responsibilities. She immediately takes off her uniform top and ties it around her waist, sweat-stained as it is. She has a second tank top and a spare shirt in her office to change into.

It’s on the way back there that she notices she’s lost the only personal affect she takes to work: a bracelet her mother had gifted her at the airport before she’d left for this city. Immediately, she feels a headache coming on.

If her mother found out, she’d be delivered from an early retirement to an early grave.

Bordering on nauseous, she rushes to retrace her steps: backstage, entrance, backdoor. As she’d expected, she comes up empty. Really, what are the odds?

Sighing, she turns back to the backdoor and begins to unlock it. It’s then when it swings open from the inside; Nadine has to jerk back to avoid getting slammed in the face. A woman comes stumbling out, cursing as she misses the step down into the back alley. She’s in a red shirt, tight and cut just above her bellybutton, and a pair of what looks to Nadine like fashionable, upscale cargo pants. In her hand, she holds a phone which she had obviously been watching instead of her step.

Nadine scowls. “Hey, watch it.”

The woman spins around, a look of surprise flashing across her face. “Sorry.” Then, she squints at Nadine, under the neon lights, and her look of remorse fades into curiosity, and mischief, and an infuriating arrogance. “Hey there.”

Nadine only glares and makes for the door. The woman raises an eyebrow and steps in her way.

“I’m not sure you’re allowed back there, love,” the woman drawls, leaning too close into Nadine’s personal space. Ordinarily, Nadine would’ve put this woman in her place instantly, but the confidence and her apparent access to the backdoor leads her to believe she might be with the Drakes in some capacity. She isn’t interested in losing her job over this. “But I’ll be happy to show you to where you are very much welcome.”

Oh, she thinks Nadine is a groupie. She closes her eyes and tries not to fly off the handle. “Christ, I don’t know who you are but I work here and I’m not in the mood for this.”

To her credit, the woman takes it in stride. She sticks her hand out. “Chloe Frazer, touring member. I play bass.”

Nadine stares at her hand. Stares at the wrist attached to her hand. Stares at the bracelet looped around the wrist.

Slowly, Chloe’s smile fades and she drops her hand. “Look, are you lost?”

“Am I— I’m the head of fucking security,” Nadine barks out, near trembling with rage. “And you’re wearing my fucking bracelet, and you’re in my fucking way, and you’re wearing my fucking bracelet!”

Chloe steps back at the sheer outrage in Nadine’s voice.

“Well?!” Nadine thunders.

Sheepishly, Chloe takes the bracelet off and holds it out to Nadine— she snatches it back and tightens it hard enough to maybe cut off circulation.

Chloe clears her throat. “Hey, uh, I found it. I was going to bring it to lost and found.”

Nadine scowls. “Funny, I’ve worked here for ages and I’ve never heard of the back alley lost and found. Must’ve slipped my notice.”

“Actually, the thing is, I was going to make a call first—”

“Save it.”

And Nadine wrenches the door open and slams it shut behind her, and storms her way through the building with a glower so biting she thinks she spots Nathan Drake ducking behind a crate to get out of her way. As it should be.

note: so basically im incapable of giving either of them occupations that arent treasure hunting so it wouldve turned out chloes an eccentric well off treasure hunter who also plays bass sometimes for her friends cos she’s a hot girl and nadine, unhappy w her career, is offered a job by chloe (see: tll) but this is only after nadine n chloe hv been dating for a while:) i dont like this enough to continue it but here ya go

[inakua]

A Yule To Remember

PART ONE

Request: Could you write about Lily Potter falling in love with Cassie Malfoy? - Anon

Warnings: N/A (I will always try and tag as many warnings as I can think of for each writing, if you read through and find something that I haven’t listed which may be a trigger for someone please send me an ask or message me so that I can add it to this list, thanks!)

Pairing/s:  Lily Luna Potter x Cassiopeia “Cassie” Malfoy.

OC’s: Cassiopeia “Cassie” Malfoy, Nicki Nott, Hannah Walker

Words: 1,572

A/N: A little christmas two shot about Cassie and Lily admitting their love at the yule ball in their 5th year. Enjoy, reblgs and replies are appreciated! Part two will be posted soon.

Dedicated to @hpnextgensource ♡

REQUEST A ONESHOT

“Quick! Hurry up Cass, we’re going to be late for dinner!” Lily cried, dragging her best friend along by the arm as fast as she could.

Sighing, Cassie allowed herself to be pulled along, the corridor was empty after all. “We won’t be late Lils, plus Lucy saved us a seat so we’ll be able to sit with everyone,” Cassie reasoned, smiling affectionately at Lily’s enthusiasm.

“I don’t care! I want roast chicken! Nicki will’ve eaten it by now!”

At that exclamation Cassie couldn’t help but burst out into laughter, prompting Lily to drop her hand as she doubled over.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Lily pouted.

“A 16 year old - chicken - you” were the only words coming out the aching mouth of Cassiopeia Malfoy. She honestly couldn’t believe that Lily Potter, a 16 year old girl, was getting so flustered because she wanted some roast chicken.

“Well, I’m going to go and complete my mission, a girl has needs you know!” She said, smirking at Cassie, who was still on the floor but seemed to be calming down.

“No - Lils wait. I - I’m coming,” Cassie replied, dragging herself from the floor, out of breath and bright red from lack of oxygen.

“You’re not gonna laugh again?” Lily asked.

“Of course not …” Cassie began, before turning to Lily, a wide smile lighting up her face, “my little chicken.”

Then, she ran.

“CASSIE!!” Lily cried, chasing after the girl in question, laughing as she went.

The two finally made it to the corridor of the Great Hall, Lily managing to catch up just after the corner.

“Got ya!” She yelled triumphantly, tackling Cassie to the ground and straddling her to keep her down.

“Hey, no fair! I was nearly there!” Cassie pouted, mischief in her eyes.

“You’re cute when you pout,” Lily blurted before she could even think.

“I - um,” Cassie stuttered, her eyes big and lips parted as she took in the words Lily had just spoken.

Lily simply started, shock evident on her face, her eyes locked onto Cassies, before moving around to take in the expression on her face.

As the girls sat there, both blushing profusely, they finally took in their compromising position.

Lily sat, straddling Cassie’s hips, her arms placed precariously on either side of her head. While Cassie lay flat, her white blonde hair flayed around her head like a halo, both hands on Lily’s hips, caressing them unconsciously with her thumbs.

Neither girl moved, both staring at each other, enamoured by the emotions in each others eyes.

It could’ve been a minute, it could’ve been half an hour, neither knew, but they were now barely an inch from each others face.

Cassie closed her eyes in anticipation …

Lily leaned in …

“There you guys are!”

As soon as the words hit their ears, the two girls sprang off each other, faces bright red, a metre gap now between them.

“We’ve been waiting for you for ages,” Lucy told them, walking over to them and linking her arms between the two.

“Yeah, where have you been?” Nicki asked, walking to Lilys side, while Hannah walked to Cassies.

“Roxy, Brennon, Hugo and Fletcher were worried about the two of you,” Hannah added.

“Yeah, we almost had to beat your cousins off when we said we were gonna look for you, they all wanted to join in on the hunt!” Nicki chuckled.

“We were just running a bit late is all,” Lily replied, smiling weakly up at Nicki.

“Yeah - late,” Cassie said, her eyes staring off into space.

Hannah and Nicki looked at them funny, before shrugging and walking the two into the great hall. After all, they knew what this was all about, and they had a plan.

…

“Okay girls, we ready to initiate mission get Lily and Cassie to admit their love for each other?” Lucy asked, huddled together with Hannah, Roxy and Nicki as the four girls squished together onto Lucys bed, curtains drawn and wands alight.

“Ready,” The three girls chorused.

“Okay, so the yule ball is this evening, I know that they both have dates but we’re going to make them wish they were each others. Hannah and Nicki you two work on Lily, me and Roxy will work on Cassie. We need to make these girls look so stunning they won’t be able to take their eyes off each other!” Lucy said, nodding at each girl in turn, making sure they understood their mission for the evening.

“We’ll take Cass in the bathroom,” Roxy informed them, motioning to her and Lucy.

“We’ll keep Lils in here,” Hannah agreed.

“Have Lils downstairs by 7 and we’ll make sure that Cass is down a couple of minutes later, then we get the dramatic effect of Cass walking down the stairs!” Roxy said in excitement, her face lighting up at the prospect of finally getting their best friends together.

“Okay, let’s get ourselves ready, the girls should be up in about an hour, so we’ve got plenty of time!” Lucy added.

“Let’s Go!” Roxy yelled, causing the others to jump back, falling backwards out the bed at the rise in volume.

A chorus of laughter could be heard from the common room as the four girls laughed at the predicament they were in, before all went silent as they prepared for the mission in front of them.

…

“Argh, quit pulling on my hair.”

“Stop whining, I’m not even tugging that hard!”

“Close your eyes Lil, I can’t do your makeup if you keep twitching. Oh stop pouting, it’ll be worth it when you see how stunning you look.”

Huffing and crossing her arms Lily had to agree, as much as she hated getting dolled up, she knew that Hannah and Nicki were going to do a much better job than if she had to do it herself.

As soon as Lily and Cass had come up from dinner they were ambushed. Cass dragged into the bathroom by an already dolled up Lucy and Roxy, while Lily was pushed down onto the vanity stall by Hannah and Nicki.

Thinking back, they should’ve know something was up as they walked up the stairs, no giggling or loud chatting could be heard from their dorm.

“Okay, just the highlighter and we should be done!” Nicki squealed, a series of claps ringing in Lilys ears.

“I’m pretty much done with the hair back here,” Hannah exclaimed, placing the muggle curlers she’d bought on the vanity.

“Can I see myself now girls?” Lily’d been unable to look at herself the whole time because the girls had enchanted the mirrors, claiming they wanted it all to be a surprise.

“Not yet.”

“We need to get you in your dress first!”

“It’s in my trunk,” Lily replied, giggling into her hand at their excitement.

“Surprise!!”

Confused Lily turned around, a gasp escaping when she laid her eyes on the dress in their hands, “bu - but? That’s not my dress?”

Almost as if in a trance she walked over, hands gliding through the silk as if water, a green almost as deep as her eyes shimmering in the lights.

“Well, we knew you were just gonna wear the same dress you wore last year,” Hannah began, looking to Nicki.

“So we all chipped in and bought this for you from gladrags.”

“Really?” Came the choked reply from Lily.

“Really,” Hannah said, fanning at her face frantically, as she saw tears pool in Lilys eyes, “stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Think of the makeup!” Nicki hollered, holding back tears herself.

Lily threw her arms around them as she attempted to control her emotions, “I love you girls.”

Squeezing her tight Hannah and Nicki replied, “we love you too, Lils.”

After clinging to each other for a minute, Lilys attention focused back on the gorgeous dress, “Well I best put it on!”

While Lily and the girls were doing the final touches, Cassie, Roxy and Lucy were waiting patiently in the bathroom.

“We’ve been waiting for 15 minutes, remind me why we can’t just go wait with Lils and the others?” Cassie asked, head balancing on the palm of her hands as she stared at the door.

“Well … um, you see,” Roxy began, eyes darting around the room anxiously.

Huffing at her cousins attempt, Lucy moved from where she was perched on the sink, to stand in front of Cassie.

“Hannah and Nicki thought it’d be a fun idea to get ready in groups, so that we can all surprise each other with our looks. Also, I kinda wanna be surprised by the dress we all bought Lily, don’t you?”

Blushing subtly Cassie nodded, “yeah, I suppose it’d be nice to see Lils in the dress, I know she’ll look amazing no matter what …” Roxy and Lucy shared a secret grin, missed by Cassie as she trailed off, looking longingly at the door. Knowing Lily was nearly ready on the other side.

Thinking of Lily made Cassie go all funny inside, it made her wish that her date were someone else. A small, cute, ginger someone else.

“Okay we’re ready girls! Come downstairs in like 2 minutes!” Nicki called, scaring Cassie out of her daydream.

“Ready Cass?” Roxy asked, hands ringing in anticipation.

“Ready. Let’s go.”

Part two coming soon, if you wanna be tagged for part two or added to my tag list for the future then lmk via my asks ♡