#i have to clear the decks before the semester starts

[oldshrewsburyian]

Currently trying to decide whether a reread will help me seethe less, or contribute to my affectionate brooding about these characters.

#i have to clear the decks before the semester starts #i do not have time for seething with persuasion headcanons #and yet #jane austen #has the genius of writing characters who will obviously go on to have lives just as complex and interesting and compelling #as the parts we see on the page #persuasion #i am living for the spite fueled persuasion revival on here #penguin books #cover design

[joelmillerisapunk]

Beach Daddy I. Unexpected Encounters

Rich daddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist • Series Masterlist

Wordcount: 5,849

Summary: You find yourself on a luxurious yacht, invited by your old roommate Sarah, only to discover that her new boyfriend is none other than your very recent ex. Feeling out of place and overwhelmed, you take solace in the kindness of Reggie, Joel's intern, who helps you navigate the ship and offers a sympathetic ear.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of cheating, reader has hair and wears a dress, you meet Joel, there's a few random oc's thrown in

Notes: Hi, I hope you enjoy 🥰 if you're feeling saucy after comments and reblogs and thoughts are always welcome! Ty @saradika-graphics for the dividers

As soon as the soles of your worn-out converse hit the wood of the dock, you know you're underdressed. Your old roommate, Sarah, has invited you to spend a few weeks on her father's boat. But as you approach the enormous white yacht docked at the end of the pier, you realize this is no ordinary boat. The yacht's sides are lined with three stories of windows, reflecting the ocean's crystal clear water.

From where you're standing, you can make out a double staircase leading to an upper deck with a circular swimming pool large enough to land a helicopter in. Men and women in matching black and white uniforms pace the decks, preparing the ship to leave the marina.

When Sarah invited you, you had no idea the vacation would be so extravagant. If you had known, you would have packed something nicer than your department store shorts and tank tops. Truthfully, you don't own anything that would make you feel undressed on a yacht that likely costs more than a private island.

"Wow," you say to yourself.

"What was that, miss? Is there something I can help you with?" The driver asks you.

"Oh, sorry, no, I’m fine. Thank you, though," you answer sheepishly.

"Don’t worry about your bags, miss. Someone from the ship will be down shortly to get them and take them to your room."

Sarah sent a Cadillac to the airport to bring you to the private dock her father owns. You appreciate the gesture more than she knows because even though you accepted her vacation invitation, you're on a very tight budget. Splurging for a taxi from the airport to the Florida coast would have left you choosing between buying textbooks or food when your next semester starts.

This vacation marks the beginning of a massive change in your life. After graduating with your Master’s Degree from NYU, you got accepted into Harvard Law School. You'll be moving out of New York City at the end of the summer and getting a new start.

You worked at a hole-in-the-wall bar to pay your tuition and barely scraped together rent each month from your tips. You lived in an apartment that you shared with your two roommates, Lin and Aubrey. You're not renewing your lease on that dilapidated and overpriced apartment, and the thought of finally getting to quit your job is a fantastic feeling.

After all of the excitement of opening your acceptance letter from Harvard, you notice a shift in the one person you thought would remain your constant through all of the change. That person is Todd, your boyfriend of two years. He dumped you with no explanation the night before graduation.

So when you receive a text from Sarah inviting you on a vacation, you accept without hesitation. You're still hurting from the breakup and wanting to be anywhere other than New York.

"Miss?" A woman in a white polo and black knee-length skirt asks you.

"Uh, yes."

"If you will follow me. Miss Miller is waiting for you."

"Of course," you say with a small smile. It's typical that Sarah would send someone to get you rather than meet you at the dock herself, but you ignore it. You're on a once-in-a-lifetime vacation, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it.

As you reach the deck with the swimming pool, you hear a high-pitched version of your name being yelled and you instantly remember why Sarah and you are friends. She has a way of making you feel special.

Sarah is lounging on a deck chair in a glamorous white bikini with a blue chiffon kimono. As she stands to greet you, you're surprised she's wearing high heels. You thought women only did that on the runway–or maybe in certain kinds of movies....

"Sarah! It is so good to see you. You look amazing, by the way." You're not surprised to see that Sarah already has a pink fruity drink in her hand.

"Oh, thanks. Daddy bought me a new yacht wardrobe while we were in Paris. Isn't this bikini just to die for?" She asks.

"It really is." You smile with your response.

"You look cute too. You’re always dressed like you're in a Gap advertisement."

Your smile almost falters, but you catch it before Sarah notices. You had almost forgotten how Sarah can make you feel special one moment and two feet tall the next.

"The yacht is gorgeous. I had no idea what to expect; I’ve never been on a boat like this before." You admit while brushing off Sarah's previous comment.

"I figured this would be a big treat for you. It’s a shame most of my other friends have a fashion show in London. Anyway, I am glad you could make it."

"I'm glad I could make it too," you say, still trying to maintain your smile.

Sarah snaps her fingers at a young man cleaning the pool while wearing a uniform that indicates he is part of the yacht’s staff. He immediately stops what he's doing, brings over a second pink drink, and hands it to you.

"Thank you so much," you say to him with a sympathetic smile. You take a small sip and are sure you will be having many more of these; it's delicious. The pineapple juice perfectly complements the rum.

"Good, right? It’s a Caribbean rum punch." Sarah says, clearly watching the enjoyment on your face.

"It’s really good. I’ve made these for customers before, but I haven’t had the chance to try one."

"Oh, you still work at that little dive bar?" Sarah asks, but she is clearly uninterested and does not intend to wait for your answer. "You are going to love the yacht," she continues without skipping a beat. "Daddy bought it last year; it is much better than his old one. You and I will be on the second floor, right off this deck, with the pool. Daddy is on the third floor in the main suite. He has a whole deck to himself, but each of our rooms has its own balcony."

You had not had a room to yourself in six years. In your apartment, all three of you shared one bedroom because you couldn’t possibly afford anything bigger. The thought of a room and a balcony all to yourself feels almost too good to be true.

"That sounds amazing, Sarah. I can not begin to thank you enough for inviting me. You have no idea how badly I needed this. I just went through the worst break -"

Sarah cuts you off before you can finish.

"Daddy keeps to himself. He says he has work to do or something like that. So most of the time, we will have the ship to ourselves. It's going to be the biggest party. Daddy even hired a DJ as part of the staff after I begged him."

"Who is us?" You ask wondering how many people she has invited.

"You, me, my boyfriend, and a few other friends. Everyone else will be coming a bit later. They’re taking Megan's private jet, so they'll get in just before we set sail.”

Part of you is nervous to meet the rest of Sarah’s friends. People who have their own private jets are not your usual crowd. However, you feel a bit relieved that there will be other people to entertain Sarah so you can find some time for yourself to relax. Sarah is the type of person who can party for hours on end. She always has to go to one more party, one more bar, or one more club before calling it a night.

“Maybe don’t mention to the others that you could only afford to fly commercial. If you do, at least lie and say you flew first class.”

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend Sarah,” you say, purposely trying to change the subject. “How long have you been seeing him?” Sarah must have changed more than you realized, because in the past she never would have settled for one man. Sarah knows this and flaunts it. She has a line of guys wanting to date her and she likes it that way.

“We have been seeing each other for four months now. He is absolutely amazing. You are going to love him. Plus he's super hot!” She gushes.

“Well, I can’t wait to meet him,” you say with a bit of a laugh.

“You will soon, he just went to our rooms to get his sunglasses. Oh, here he comes now,” Sarah says with a huge smile lighting up her face.

He walks out onto the deck, wraps an arm around Sarah’s waist, and pulls her in for a kiss. Then he turns to you as though you had never met.

“Hey, I’m Todd.”

“Todd?” you say, completely dumbfounded by the fact that your very recent ex-boyfriend is standing in front of you with his arm around Sarah.

“Yea, I’m Sarah's boyfriend. She told me one of her old roommates would be joining us.”

“Um, yea.” You respond awkwardly. At first, you don’t understand why Todd would act like he doesn’t know you, but then a lump forms in your throat. Sarah says they have been together for four months.

“Hey, you should go get changed, and we can all go up to dinner together. We're eating on the rooftop deck tonight.” Sarah says, completely missing the strangeness of your interaction with Todd. She snaps her fingers again at another member of the yacht staff. “Will you show her to her room?”

“Of course. If you will follow me,” the woman says and starts walking towards the double doors leading into the ship.

You glance back at Todd and Sarah and quickly wish you hadn’t. Todd is kissing her again, and then he winks at you as his hand starts sliding down her back. You turn away quickly before you have to see where his hand lands.

“You are in the first room to the right.”

“Thank you so much-” you pause.

“Molly.”

“Thank you so much, Molly. Also, I'm sorry about the snapping. I work as a bartender and always hate when people snap to get my attention.”

Molly smiles genuinely at you after your comment. “Thank you, but we are all used to Sarah and her ways. There is an intercom in your room. If you need anything, just press the button, and someone downstairs will respond.”

You nod and open the door to your room, but room is an understatement. The size and luxury of the room are unlike anything you have ever experienced. The main room houses a king-size bed covered in a white silk comforter. There is also a lounge area with two modern black leather sofas. And your suitcase is already waiting for you on an ottoman at the foot of the bed.

You sigh and throw yourself onto the bed face down in the comforter. It seems like a bad dream that Todd is here, pretending he doesn’t know you, let alone date you for two years.

You were comfortable, and your relationship was secure, or so you thought. It started with little things, like Todd bailing on plans you'd made and how he stopped inviting you to spend any time at his place.

Aubrey was always suspicious of Todd, but you never questioned him. Because you knew, deep down, he was cheating on you, but you went on pretending because it was easier than losing him. You didn’t have to pretend for very long because he dumped you the day before graduation.

You cried for hours on the living room couch as Lin and Aubrey comforted you and supplied you with all the ice cream you could eat. You picked yourself up the morning of graduation and packed away your pain. You would not let Todd, or anyone else, see you beaten; you thought maybe that would make you a good lawyer one day.

You walked across that stage and accepted your diploma with a giant smile on your face because you truly earned it and right after the ceremony, you let yourself fall into misery again.

And now he's dating Sarah.

Sarah had said that they’d started dating four months ago, which meant that Todd was definitely cheating on you. It was just hard to believe that he cheated on you with one of your friends.

Sure, Sarah and you fell in and out of touch as your lives drifted apart, but it still made the betrayal hurt more.

During college, you were very different people. Sarah attended NYU for the party life and never missed an opportunity to go out and have fun. You spent most of your time studying to ensure you didn’t lose your scholarship. Even though you had your differences, you got along for the most part, and while you were living together, you became close friends.

You allow yourself a few more moments of self-pity before pulling yourself off of the bed. You didn't let Todd see you beat at graduation, and you aren't going to let him see it now.

You make your way to your suitcase and roll it into the connecting ensuite. As you walk through the double doors of the ensuite, you are shocked again by the sheer size of the yacht. You take your time unpacking each item of clothing and hanging it in the closet. You pick out a black knee-length dress, which is the nicest thing you have brought, and change into it.

Just as you finish touching up your makeup, you hear the click of the door latch opening.

“Hey, are you ready? Everyone else is here, and we are all heading up to eat,” Sarah says while she bursts into the room without bothering to knock.

“Yeah. Perfect timing. I just finished.” You walk out of the ensuite and see her standing in a floor-length dress made of silvery fabric. She takes one quick look at you outfit and says nothing, obviously unimpressed by your simple choice. You follow her out into the hallway, where three women and four men in black tie attire talk among themselves.

Sarah makes quick introductions, but the only name you catch is that of the tall brunette woman, Megan, the one with the private jet. Your hands are already starting to sweat, and you're honestly grateful that most of the other guests ignore your presence as waiters bring plate after plate of food and set it in front of each of you.

“Megan, how was the flight here?” Sarah asks.

"Oh, it's the worst. My mom has to take the big jet to Japan for a business conference, so I'm stuck with the little jet. Hudson nearly hit his head on the ceiling because it's so small." Megan throws a seductive look at the tall man with blond hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Well, I'm sure you didn't have the worst flight. She had to fly commercial," Sarah says, gesturing towards you.

"You poor thing. I've never flown commercial, but I hear it's horrible. Do you really have to sit next to strangers?"

"Yeah, you do, but not in first class." You say remembering that Sarah had told you to say you flew first class even though you didn't.

It's typical of Sarah to throw you under scrutiny when you had planned to avoid talking about how you got here or anything else to do with money, for that matter. Luckily, the one dig at you seems to be enough for Sarah because she gets distracted by Todd.

"You are the sexiest woman I have ever met," Todd says as he runs his hand up Sarah's arm.

"You two are the absolute cutest," the woman sitting on your right says.

"Oh, I know, right? It's so fun that we are equally numbered men to women," Megan says, throwing another look at Hudson, who seems completely clueless.

You eat your meal in silence and try your best not to watch Sarah and Todd. However, it's hard to ignore the fact that Todd has abandoned his meal and is instead licking Sarah's neck. She laughs, runs her fingers into his mess of brown curls, and pulls his face to hers.

You make it all the way to dessert before you can't take it anymore and quietly slip away from the table. Of course, no one sees you leave; if they did, no one cares.

As the door closes behind you, a few tears start streaming down your face. You have to get back to your room before anyone finds you crying. You quickly wipe the tears from your cheeks and do your best to keep any more from falling.

The day's events have finally hit you in full force. You're angry and hurt that Todd has been cheating on you the whole time, and now you have to spend your vacation watching him and Sarah together.

You're so distracted in your thoughts that you run straight into a rock-solid chest.

You had hoped you just ran into one of the yacht's staff members, but you quickly realize the man is not wearing the uniform. All you can see is a suit jacket. You pull back and continue to try to hold back your tears.

"I am so sorry; I should have been watching where I was going," you say while trying to plan your escape.

When you look up at who you ran into, you're met with the most beautiful brown eyes you've ever seen.

"Are you okay, Miss?”

—♡—

Joel is walking down the hallway on his way to the upper deck when he hears a loud burst of laughter. He sighs in frustration; this was supposed to be a quiet escape from work, yet his yacht is full of a bunch of twenty-year-olds.

He had invited Sarah, as a way to spend a bit of time together this summer. Then Sarah asked if she could bring her new boyfriend along, and he agreed without much thought.

Joel met Todd earlier in the week over breakfast, and he seemed like a good kid. He works in finance for his father’s financial firm in New York, so they immediately have so much to talk about.

He is very complimentary of Joel's recent purchase of Explore Air, the second airline that he now owns. It truly is a good purchase, and he has big plans for expansion. 

Joel is impressed that Sarah has picked someone who is putting down roots, and he seems like a stable choice. Sarah has never introduced him to a boyfriend before, so he is taking their relationship seriously.

Having her boyfriend join them would be an easy way for him to get to know him better and also give Joel a little more time for himself, which is probably a little selfish. It’s not that he doesn’t love his daughter; he finds it difficult spending time with his daughter; they aren’t very close. He had only found out she existed fourteen years ago, and trying to connect with a ten-year-old with whom he has nothing in common has not been easy.

It doesn’t help that he has bought her everything she could possibly ask for–for the last fourteen years. In the beginning, he did it to make up for missing the first ten years of her life, but after that, it just became easier than dealing with her when she didn’t get what she wanted.

Sarah is now a spoiled and entitled twenty-four-year-old with no plans for her life other than partying and spending as much money as possible.

In classic Sarah fashion, his agreement to let her bring her boyfriend along turned into her filling each one of his guest rooms with her rich and arrogant friends. Sarah also hired a DJ against his wishes, but after a hysterical outburst where she accused him of not loving her, she got her way, just like always. So his quiet and relaxing vacation with his daughter quickly turned into him hosting a summer-long party.

Before he heads to his stateroom, he figures he better play the welcoming host and go up to greet Sarah and her friends. As Joel turns a corner, he bumps into someone. The woman has her head down, so all he can see is her hair.

“I am so sorry; I should have been watching where I was going,”  the woman says. 

When her eyes finally meet Joel’s, he is surprised it looks like she is fighting tears.

“Are you okay, miss?” Joel says in response. He feels dumb as soon as the words are out of his mouth. She, very obviously, is not okay.

“Yes. I’m just heading back to my room, uh, sir,”  she says as she straightens up, obviously not wanting to be caught crying.

“Oh right,” Joel replies, suddenly realizing that she called him sir, so she must be one of the maids.

He starts picking through his memories, trying to remember when he’d hired her.  Reggie must have been the one to interview her because he surely would have remembered a woman so captivating.

“Before you do that, would you head up to my stateroom and unpack my luggage?  I'm afraid it's been delivered later than usual. Had some business I had to attend to before leaving port, and I didn't get here as early as I would have liked.”

“Oh - I am - Uh -” she starts staring at the floor.

Joel stands waiting for her response. He thinks it is cute how flustered she is; perhaps it's because he makes her nervous. That's pretty common with new hires, but oddly, she makes him feel a bit flustered, which is completely uncommon.

“Yes,”  she stammers.

“Thank you so much -” he says with a smile, leaving a pause in hopes that she would tell him her name, but she quickly turns and heads in the opposite direction. He can't help but stare as she walks away. As she slips around a corner and out of sight, he sighs, knowing he needs to make an appearance upstairs.

Joel walks out onto the deck, where a large dining table is placed and decorated with an extravagant centerpiece. The stars reflect over the ocean and create a stunning backdrop for his daughter's dinner party. He is really impressed at how well the staff has done at transforming this space, most likely with very particular instructions from Sarah.

“Daddy!” Sarah screams as he makes his way out onto the deck. She screams a lot, but he notices most girls her age do. Thankfully it looks as though their dinner party is just wrapping up; waiters are clearing away everything from the table. 

Sarah runs over and hugs him.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he says kissing  the top of her head. “Is everything goin' alright?”

“Everything has gone perfectly so far. The yacht is so awesome; I think my friends could die out of jealousy.”

Joel remains silent, not knowing how to respond to Sarah's need to be the envy of other people. He would leave figuring that out to her mother, Marnie. They hardly speak other than when she needs money from him, which is more often than he'd like.

“Good evening, Mr. Miller,” Todd says as he makes his way over and shakes Joel's hand.

“S'good to see you again, Todd.”

“Likewise. I’d like to discuss a real estate investment I'm working on for a client when you have the time. I would love to get your opinion.”

“Of course. We can talk about it tomorrow night over some drinks.” 

“I look forward to it, Mr. Miller.”

Joel continues to greet Sarah's friends and make small talk for as long as he can manage. He makes his exit by lifting a glass of champagne in the air and toasting, “To an amazing summer.”

Sarah's friends echo his toast, followed by cheering and chatting amongst themselves. Joel slips out and heads over to a hidden elevator, which goes up one more floor where his room and private deck are located. He really hopes that the group makes their way to their rooms soon. He's exhausted and can not wait to slip into sleep.

He opens the double doors to his room and is slightly disappointed that the maid he met earlier was already gone. His suitcase was missing from where he left it, so she must have come and gone while he was greeting my guests.

He immediately makes his way to the bar cart and pours himself a glass of whiskey taking a long sip of his drink, he can't stop his mind from wandering back to the maid he ran into. It’d been a long time since someone had caught his attention as she did. She did seem much younger than him, though. He wasn’t sure that would be a problem.

He walks over to the screen mounted on the wall next to the door, and at the press of a button, the wall of windows at the far end of the room slid open, eliminating the barrier between his living room and private deck. That feature was one of the main reasons he purchased this particular yacht. He thought there would be nothing better than feeling the ocean breeze and hearing the waves even while hiding away in his stateroom.

He steps onto his deck and could see the dinner party continuing without him one deck below. The muffled sounds of conversation and laughing are the only sound drifting up to him. 

Joel sips his drink and watches the white foamy waves follow the yacht as they move through the water. It's the only way he can tell they're moving as the sky darkens to a deep blue. He sits back, relaxing, and imagines the woman's eyes staring back at him.

—♡—

 “Are you okay, miss?” the attractive man asks after you run directly into him.

“Yes. I’m just heading back to my room, uh, sir,” you respond.

“Oh, right,” he says, lost in thought. He pauses for a few seconds and then continues.

“Before you do that, would you head up to my stateroom and unpack my luggage? I'm afraid it's been delivered later than usual. Had some business I had to attend to before leaving port, and I didn't get here as early as I would've liked.”

You stumble over your words, mortified that he clearly thinks you are a member of the staff rather than a guest on the yacht. However, you suppose you look nothing like the typical guests.

“Yes,” you finally say, deciding it is easier than trying to explain the mix-up. He thanks you and continues standing there, staring at you, making sure you are actually going to go unpack for him.

You quickly turn and head back down the long hallway. You must be headed in the right direction because the man does not tell you otherwise. Unfortunately, this is leading you in the opposite direction of your room.

You take a few turns, trying not to accidentally run into the man again and have to explain that you don’t work for him. You should have just told him from the start, but he startled you, and you got a bit distracted staring at his face.

He has a very nice face and a very nice body, and you can’t stop thinking about him. It isn’t too long before you are completely turned around; the ship is so outlandishly large.

Exhausted and embarrassed, you find a small alcove off of the main hallway, lean your back against the wall, and slide to the floor. You just need a minute to yourself to get control of your emotions, but a door opens next to you and cuts that time short.

You jump to your feet and smooth your hands over your dress.

“Hello, I don’t think we’ve met,” the man says. He is very clean-cut, with smooth black hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. You guess that he isn’t much older than you are.

“I’m a friend of Sarah’s,” you introduce yourself, not wanting to get mistaken for part of the staff again.

“Oh, wonderful. I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” he says with a genuine smile. You feel at ease in his presence, happy to have finally found someone who isn’t already judging you.

“I am, but I may need some help. I ran into someone down the hall, who mistook me for one of the maids and asked me to unpack for him. I don’t want anyone to get into trouble if it doesn’t get done,” you say, slightly embarrassed. “Can you help me?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry that happened to you. Do you know who it was?”

“Uh, it was a man wearing a very nice suit - but that probably doesn’t narrow it down much.”

“Not exactly,” he says with a sympathetic grin.

“He was tall with dark brown hair that perfectly complements his brown eyes. He had a concrete jaw that was peppered with black and silver facial hair. His voice was deep, had a southern accent, and he smelled like sandalwood,” you say, picturing the man in your head.

After a few moments, you realize you’ve said way too much. If you could have jumped off the railing and into the ocean, you would have.

“That is Mr. Miller,” he says quickly, saving you from further embarrassment. “I am his intern, so I can make sure someone goes and takes care of his luggage.”

Did he say… Mr. Miller? As in, Sarah’s dad?

“Thank you so much,” you say. “You will have to forgive me. It’s been a long night, and I’ve been so rude and haven’t asked your name.”

“You can call me Reggie.”

“Well, thank you so much, Reggie. Can I ask you for one more favor?”

“Of course,” Reggie says with his signature smile.

“I got a little turned around after leaving the dinner party upstairs, and I’m not sure how to get back to my room.”

“It would be my pleasure to escort you back to your stateroom, Miss,” he says and offers you his arm.

“Thank you so much,”  you say as you take his arm, absolutely delighted by the gesture.

Reggie is leading the way back to your room when he says, “Please don’t hold it against Mr. Miller for mistaking you for part of the staff. He has been under a lot of stress lately and passed the hiring off to me. Since you weren’t at the dinner party, it’s likely he just figured that you were a new hire. He really is a kind person and would have never intentionally offended you.”

“He didn’t offend me. I know I don’t fit with Sarah’s other friends, so it was an easy mistake to make. I could have straightened everything out, but I was a little distracted by some personal issues.”

“Do you need to vent?” Reggie asks innocently.

“It’s just that I went through a really difficult breakup, and I hoped this trip would help me get my mind off of him. It hasn’t worked out that way,” you say, trying to remain as vague as possible.

“I’m very sorry. Was it a long relationship?”

“Two years.”

“Ouch. Well, just give it a bit more time. With what Miss Miller has scheduled, I’m sure you will have plenty of distractions to keep your mind off of things.”

You laugh. “I’m sure you’re right. There is never a dull moment with Sarah around.”

Just as your conversation wraps up, you reach your door. You are so relieved to be back in your room that you could have hugged Reggie. You feel like you could talk to him about anything, and it helps you to feel as though there is at least one person on this ship who has not immediately judged you.

“Thank you so much for all of your help, Reggie. I don’t know what I would have done had I not run into you.”

“I’m here to help anytime. That goes for all of the staff on the yacht. If you need anything at all, just ask.”

You nod as Reggie walks away, and you slip into your room.I You head straight to the bathroom for that giant tub you discovered earlier. You have never been so in need of washing away the events of a day before.

You soak for almost an hour when the water starts getting cold, you reluctantly pull yourself out and wrap yourself in a fluffy bath towel.

You change into your pajamas, a pair of gray shorts, and a Harvard T-shirt. Your grandfather sent you the T-shirt as soon as you told him you’d been accepted; he was so proud.

You pull out your phone to send him a quick text telling him that you are okay. You should have sent it as soon as you arrived, but you forget in the chaos of seeing Todd with his arm around Sarah's waist.

You type out a quick message reading, "Hi Gramps. I made it safe. I will keep you updated. Love you." When you go to hit send, you realize you have no service. So not only would you not be able to contact your grandpa, but you can't update Lin and Aubrey about this horrible situation you are in. You sigh in defeat and toss your phone onto the bed.

Instead of talking with your friends, you use the intercom system in your room to call down for a cup of chamomile tea. You are shocked at how quickly there is a knock at your door. You take the tray and make your way out onto your private balcony.

The balcony is large enough to fit a lounge chair and a small breakfast table. You quickly make plans to put that to use in the morning. It would be amazing to sip your coffee and listen to the sound of the ocean.

You take a seat on the lounge chair and place your tray in front of you. A tiny teapot and matching cup are accompanied by a small plate of macaron cookies. You pour yourself a cup of tea and bite into one of the pink, dainty cookies.

You can't help thinking that this vacation would be perfect if you could spend the whole time in this room. Unfortunately, you would have to come out eventually and face Todd. You could have told Sarah the truth about Todd being your ex, but now that you are sailing, you have no escape.

It would have made the rest of the vacation unbearably awkward if you'd told Sarah. You have to keep this secret, at least until you are all back on land. A flash of shame hits you when you remember the other secret you would have to keep from Sarah. 

The fact that you are undeniably attracted to her dad.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller smut

[idunnoficsorsumthing]

This might be the summer heat…

Hangman x female!reader

Warnings: Smuttish. 18+ If you continue on reading you consent to being over 18.

Y/n Mitchell joins her father at Top Gun for the summer, as she is flirting dangerously with Hangman.

Part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

You were used to the heat of California, though being in such a deserted rural area was not something you had been used to in a while. This was what you have been missing as you stepped out of the car strudding to the Hard Deck. The music was already to be heard, as you heard a female voice singing. Penny must have been hiring someone because she had the voice of an angel. You opened up the door, and let the smell of smoke and booze infiltrate your nostrils. “Y/n. Long time no see.” Penny said, as you settled your bag down. You move your sunglasses to the top of your head. “I missed dad. Speaking of, have you seen him?” You asked, looking around the bar. Your eyes fell on a group of aviator’s that were playing pool. A man looked up from the pool table and made eye contact. Typical douchey fighter pilot was already undressing you with his eyes. You roll your eyes, and see Rooster bumping his pool stick to the other guys making him miss his shot. A big smile plastered on his face, as he called out your name. You leave your bags by the bar and make your way to your childhood best friend jumping in his arms. “Peach.” He said, as kids you made up callsigns and pretended you two were fighter pilots like your dads. “Hey Brad.” You said, holding him a little tighter.

“I didn’t know you had a girl, Rooster.” A guy in an aviation jacket said loudly enough for everyone in the vicinity. Roosters cheeks started to look rosy as you felt the heat under yours as well. Before any introductions could be made you heard Penny call for you. You walked over to Penny when you saw your dad in his aviation jacket sitting at the bar. You pecked a kiss on his cheek. “Hi dad” you said, almost in a singing tone. “How was your flight?” He asked, you had spent the last semester on the east coast, much to his dismay. He thought studying at Berkeley was too far away already. Though it was not your fault he got sent to the middle of nowhere to test fly planes in the first place.

Last night you got into an argument with your dad about your life choices. He wanted you to stay here at the base where he could keep an eye on you. Over Worried, and overprotective, in a sense no dad should be. What you wanted was to have fun this summer, and go with your friends to Lloret de Mar. One last summer. But, your father practically forced you to join him on the North Island. You walked over the tarmac towards the aviation hall. You saw a man doing push ups by a F-18 being overseen by Hondo. You stopped right in front, and said hi to Hondo. “Good to see you again, Y/n.” He said, you give him a smile. “You too.” You said: “This one was a bit cocky, I see.” The blond stopped, and looked up at you, and his face had a stupid smirk. “ Nice panties, sweetheart.” He said, you try not to look surprised. But, you feel your cheeks heat up, and his smirk makes you tingly inside. Hondo scolded at him assinging him more push ups, as you stepped back a little not realizing your skirt gave him a clear view.

Rooster was the best. He introduced you to all the aviators, and invited you to play pool with them. The pilots let loose more and they were wild. Payback was handsome, tall, and muscled. His uniform fit him perfectly, not too loose and not tight around any place. Which is how you believed his place at lieutenant had him be. Comfortable clothing, making him focused on his job, and having fun off the clock. But, Hangman on the other hand wore his uniform tight, it enhanced his torso, thighs, and biceps. He knew what he did with that. It showed confidence, and arrogance as he knew he looked hot. Tonight you wore a revealing outfit because after a week of you helping Penny at the bar, and hanging out around your dad, and his googly eyed minions it was starting to become a game of pissing off your dad by becoming close with the pilots. He did not want you to date anyone. Let alone fighter pilots.

You must’ve lost your train of thought as Rooster poked you in your side, and you made your way over to the pool table. Hangman was standing close to you. As you bend over the table, letting your ass stick out more than you normally would. You focus for one second, and shoot the nine ball in the corner hole. You sign, and lean back up,pretending not to notice Hangman had been looking at your ass. “Is something wrong, lieutenant?” You ask him, Bob took his turn, as you heard the balls hit behind you. Hangman has piercing blue eyes that make your mind foggy. You switch your gaze to his lips, and look back into his eyes. He takes a step back. You look around the room as if you snapped out of his trans, and nobody was paying the both of you much attention but were focused on the game of pool that Bob was actually winning.

You decide to go over to the bar to grab some more beers. Which you were followed by Hangman though you pretended that you didn’t know he followed you. “Looks like the innocent daughter isn’t so innocent after all.” He said, cocking his brow, and letting his hand touch the bare skin on your back midriff. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Hangman.” You said, looking at him innocently. A smirk appeared on his face as he recognized the game you were playing. “ Such a shame you want to play.” He said, leaning forward so he was only audible for you. “You looked hot bending over like that.” His words took you less by surprise than your reaction to his voice as you felt it in your core. You take the toothpick out of his mouth, and throw it in the ashtray on the edge of the bar, and leave him standing there.

Every morning after his time at the gym, Hangman would take a run along the beach. You had already finished your run along the beach when you saw Hangman approach the beach on his run. You contemplated staying on your run longer to join him. Instead you figured maybe you could tease him a bit, after all it was a hot august morning. You take off your shorts leaving them on the beach shore. Next up was your top before ditching it as well as you made your way to the ocean, the water was cold to your feet. Within a couple of seconds you emerged yourself in the cold ocean water. You swim towards deeper water, and you hear a voice calling out to you. Looking over to the shore was Hangman who had finally reached your pile of clothing. You didn’t hear what he was saying over the sound of the waves crashing on the sand. “Come here.” You yell out. He shook his head for a second but then started to strip down. He walked in the water, in his shorts, and you see him shudder from the coolness. He swam over towards you as you floated on the waves. “ You know it is dangerous to swim alone in the ocean right?” He said, when he was close to you. “Are you trying to be my hero then?” You said, swimming closer to him. “What is my reward as a hero?” He asked. He was now a couple of feet away from you. You thought for a second, and decided to unclip your sports bra, and hold it up to him. A smirk appeared on his face, and he came slowly closer to you. “My dad will kill you if you come any closer.” You warn him. He shook his head, and kept still for a second.``Are you okay?” You ask. “ Yes. Yes, I'm just comparing pro’s and con’s.” The second yes was more enthusiastic than the first. He seemed convinced of himself when he swam closer. When he was less than a foot away, you decided to create more distance. “Afraid of me?” He asked teasingly. “I think I want to make you work for it.” You said, splashing water at him. He was faster than you are, as he caught up with you. He took you in his arms, your bare breasts against his chest created a nice sensation for your hard nipples. Biting your lower lip as Hangman had a smirk on his face. “Can I-“ he was going to ask. Instead you pressed your lips against his. Your hands on the side of his face pulling him in. As two of you kept knocking your feet against each other trying to stay afloat. He responded quickly by kissing you back. Kissing him felt like a drought coming to an end. Like spring, and salt. His lips on yours caused your insides to twist and turn. Like you could not even think straight any more.

After that morning, Jake was nice, he told you to call him Jake. Well, he said either call me Jake or Lieutenant sexy thing. As you could never say the other one, Jake it was. It was only a kiss at that moment, as he needed to go to work otherwise you’d been caught. Your father lived in a separate quarter on the base. It had been days after the incident. You were going over to the military base to ask Rooster if he had plans tonight. Your father was going over to stay with Penny, and it was going to storm, something you refused to let your father know was that you were still scared of heavy Californian storms, and they named the one of tonight Bernie. It was already pouring when your walk over to the main base ended. The others were prepping gear, as there was not much chance of flying today. “Y/n, what are you doing here? Your dad left already.” Rooster said he was busy with some screws and what looked like cooling tubes. “I’m here for you. I wanted to see my favorite poultry.” You said, seeing Jake walk into the hangar with Phoenix. You sit down on a dusty old couch. Phoenix comes to join you on the couch. Jake sits on the big armchair next to Phoenix's side. “What is the occasion, sweetheart?” Jake asked. Rooster glared at Jake. “ Don’t you dare, Baghag.” He said, pointing his screwdriver to him. Jake held up his hands as if held under gunpoint. “Only in my dreams.” Jake said, giving you a wink. You roll your eyes, that was too cheesy even for you. Rooster told you he would only take half an hour longer, and after that the two of you would go to the Hard Deck to meet up with Payback, Bob, and Phoenix. You went to the kantine for a moment to get a cup of coffee, as you grabbed a mug out of a cupboard, Jake came walking in. “Hey Pretty.” He said approaching you. “Hello lieutenant” you said, with a smile on your face. He placed his hands on your hips. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you.” He said, leaning in, pecking a kiss on your lips before going in again to deepen the kiss. He slowly moved his hands up, and a smile appeared on your face putting the kiss on hold. A smirk appeared on his face when his hand reached your breast. Like he was some thirteen year old that would still laugh at the word boobies. Quickly you returned to the kissing action. He raised you up on the counter, nudging himself in between your legs. Returning his hand back under your shirt, like it hadn’t left. The kissing, and him groping you led to you wanting more, as the longing sensation between your legs began to grow. Clearly he wanted to as well, considering the growing bulge that was pressing against you. “I’m going to motherfucking kill you!” You heard Rooster yell, as he pulled Hangman away from you, sucker punching him right in the face. Hangman fell down on the ground, and his nose started dripping red. “Jesus Rooster!” You yelled out. Both Roosters and Hangman’s eyes were shooting flames. “Y/n, what the HELL” he said: “HIM?” You looked at Rooster, to you he was like a brother, he was always used to come over and see you till the stunt your dad pulled. Even after that he would be in contact with you. You could cry at how angry he was at you. “Can you calm down?” You try to act calm. He glared from you, to Hangman and back at you. “How are you not seeing how wrong this is? He is like 10 years older than you!” Rooster said. You shrug. Which made Rooster even more annoyed, Hangman had meanwhile gotten up off the floor. “I’m not done with you.” Rooster said, pointing his finger angrily at Hangman. However, he backed off. Leaving the two of you standing in the kitchen. Quickly, you rushed to get Hangman napkins for his nosebleed. Though the blood had already dripped down his shirt. “I’m so sorry.” You said, he leaned his head up, looking at the sky. “It’s fine. We butt heads all the time.” He said, you couldn’t help but feel like this was more extreme. You knew Bradley was overprotective but this wasn’t normal.

#hangman x you #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader

[goldenlaurelleaveswrites]

Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe ch 14

Juleka vs. the Forces of the Girl Squad iii

Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe (AO3)

It has been such a long time, and I wanted to start by saying thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for all of your kind words and the support you've shown me. I didn't respond because honestly, I get so flustered over compliments and such things when they're reacted at me, so all of the wonderful and kind things you all said to me had me hiding under the covers. But I read every single comment. I reread them actually, when I was feeling really stressed about school they provided me with comfort. Ive actually taken pictures of them to keep on hand for when I need a reminder. But I cannot thank you all enough for the care you have shown me, and I want you all to know how much it meant to me 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Now for a little bit of house keeping. The next chapter will probably take a while to go up because my break between semesters is relatively short (I finished my first semester a week ago today, and I start up again next week). Especially if it ends up being as long as this one did. I have also updated the chapter count! In all honesty, I meant to do this ages ago but I kept forgetting 😅

With all that said, again, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

She rolled her shoulders as she made her way below deck, trying to work out all of the kinks that had made their way into her muscles as she had fought. It hadn’t been a particularly difficult battle, but it had been… annoying… Just how many times had M. Ramier been akumatized into M. Pigeon now? In the grand total of the two weeks since she had first donned the tiger miraculous, she had dealt with M. Pigeon three times now. He had to be well past fifty akumatizations by this point.

She sighed as she made her way into the kitchen, her attention laser focused on the fridge. It hadn’t been a hard battle, just a long one. And she was hungry. The light of the fridge was bright, but once she had blinked the stars from her eyes, her gaze settled on a box of pizza Luka had brought home from work the other day. She had just lifted the lid of the box when a voice broke the silence. 

“Where have you been?” 

Blindly, she grabbed a slice, then pushed the fridge door closed with her hip, and with the coveted slice of pizza in hand, glanced in the direction of Luka’s voice. He was sitting up on the sofa, watching her over the back of it. But as she made her way into the living area, she saw his legs were still stretched out along the length of it, like he had been sprawled out on it. He had his acoustic in his lap, and it was only then that she realized that the tv was on, the screen displaying what looked like a recap of the akuma battle. But the flickering image was silent. As was the guitar in his lap. 

“It’s on mute?” she asked, ignoring his question as she glared at his legs, which were occupying the majority of the sofa. 

“All the commentary was just Nadja’s usual tosh,” he said as he shifted to make room for her. “Y’know, the ‘Ladybug and Chat Noir are in love’ stuff and all that.”  

“And you’re not playing?” she asked before taking a bite of the cold pizza. 

Luka shrugged. “I was for a while….” He said, his voice trailing off as he began plucking at the strings. From the way his gaze drifted down to stare pensively at his guitar as his fingers deftly moved across the strings, it was obvious she was going to have to wait.  

She chewed slowly as they sat in silence. Well, silence apart from his music. It was clear in the music his noodling was eliciting that he was trying to work out something he wanted to say. That was something most of her friends didn’t seem to understand about him; they all seemed to think he always knew exactly what to say. To be fair, when it came to music, he did. He was a complete and utter dork that way. And a nerd—well, music nerd— to boot. But if he needed to say something that wasn’t about music… he needed music to figure out how to say it. 

It was something Marinette had understood pretty quick though… 

 “I’m just- I’ve been trying to figure out this song…” he finally said, his gaze still firmly on his guitar and his fingers still dancing across the strings, a familiar smile playing at his lips. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what song it was he was trying to figure out. Especially given the way his cheeks were turning pink. For all the ways Luka was different from their ma, they were similar in a few key ways. Namely, their lack of subtlety. “It’s just… I thought about what you said- what you’ve been telling me-”

“About the song.” 

 His hands stilled as he looked up and offered her a sheepish smile. “You were right.”

Finally, he was figuring that out. It had taken him long enough… 

 “But now…” he shrugged helplessly as he glanced back down as his guitar. Idly, he trailed his fingers across the strings as he stared at it thoughtfully. “I know what notes I want to play. How I want- how I hope the melody will go.”

“But you’ve committed to the notes you want to play next?” she asked, half afraid for his answer. It wouldn’t be the first time the idiot had found an excuse to designate himself to playing second fiddle. And given it felt like the Universe trying to tell him to take a backseat… 

He looked up, his eyes flashing with an intensity that was strictly reserved for all things Marinette. “I didn’t want to pressure her.” A noble notion. A gallant one even. Even if he had been an idiot in the way he had gone about it. “But, you were right.” That felt nice to hear. “But then she was just so stressed. I didn’t want to be another thing for her to worry about. And now… now I’m trying to figure out the tempo of it. I don’t want to rush it. Especially not the next few notes.”

She would hardly say he was rushing things… 

“But I think…” he said slowly, ducking his gaze in what appeared to be a futile attempt to hide the dopey, lovesick grin spreading across his face, “I think it’s time I asked her how she would feel about a duet.”

“‘Bout time, if you ask me.” Actually, it was way past time. In her opinion, anyway. 

His head snapped up to protest, his eyes even more intense and bright against his flushed cheeks and his dopey, lovesick, Marinette smile. She couldn’t stop herself from smirking, and he seemed to immediately recognize his mistake. He ducked his head to try and hide his face, but it was too late. 

She had seen the smile and the flushed cheeks. It wasn’t like he had ever done a good job of hiding that smile. 

She sank back into sofa cushions, and grinning widely, took another bite of pizza. And immediately screwed up her face in disgust as a vile taste filled her mouth. Had she thought to grab a plate, she would have spat it out, but as it was, she had no choice but the swallow the offending bite. “Olives? Why did you bring home stuff with olives?” 

“Serves you right,” he chuckled, though he was still trying—and failing—to hide his flushed face by inspecting his chipped nail polish.

“For what?” 

“Teasing me.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” Ok, maybe she had… but could he really blame her? 

“You didn’t have to. You never have to,” he added as he rolled his eyes. “But you totally did.”

Ok, fair. He had a point. But still… “Rude.” 

“Didn’t you check it first?” 

“No, you distracted me.” 

He furrowed his brows. “Y’know, you never did answer my question.” 

“Hm?” she hummed as she began picking the olives off the pizza.

“Where were you? And stop that!” She just raised a brow, and then flicked another olive at him. 

“I was out shopping,” she said off-handedly as she inspected the pizza for any olives she may have missed. 

“I thought your big shopping trip was tomorrow…” he said. Her ears perked up at the sudden, entirely too casual tone of his voice. 

“It is…” she said slowly, watching him through suspicion-narrowed eyes. “The pharmacy’s having a sale on nail polish and lipstick. I thought I would check it out.” It wasn’t a lie. She had been on her way to check out the sale when she had gotten the akuma alert. As soon as she had seen it, she had hightailed it back to where the Liberty was moored and snuck back on deck to wait in case Purple Tigress was needed. Which she had been. 

“You didn’t get anything?’ 

She shook her head. “Probably best to wait until I have my dress before I decide on makeup and all that.” Technically, that was true too. 

He hummed, and nodded as he listlessly plucked at the strings of his guitar, eliciting a tune that betrayed his casual facade. 

“And you’re all going on the shopping trip.” It was obvious that wasn’t what he was really asking. Why he still insisted on beating around the bush when she knew how he felt about Marinette was beyond her. 

Especially after he had just admitted he was finally going to stop being an idiot. 

Well, about Marinette at least. 

“Yeah. Well, the guys aren’t coming. I have no interest in dragging Kim around to look at dresses.”  

Luka snorted. “That’s something I’d pay to see.” She rolled her eyes, but he just chuckled. “So…” he said slowly, drawing the word in a clear attempt to sound casual. “Marinette’s decided to go to the dance after all?” 

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” she asked, nodding to the coffee table, where his phone sat before shoving the last bite of pizza into her mouth. 

He looked at it thoughtfully, and she barely fought the urge to roll her eyes. Luka wasn’t the type to ask someone to a dance over text. Especially when that someone was Marinette. Because him going to a dance with her actually meant something to him. 

But maybe that would at least get the ball rolling. 

“I’m going to go have a shower,” she announced, rising from the sofa. Her muscles were still stiff, and she didn’t want to be any more subjected to Luka’s lovesick sighs and dopey smiles. 

                                                              ***

The shade was cool on her face, and provided a much welcome refuge from the afternoon sun. It was warm, bordering on hot with only a slight breeze to keep the edge of the heat off. The sound of laughter and a Saturday in the city mingled with the coos of the pigeons that were scattered around the park. It was evident in the air that the end of June was fast approaching, and with it, the dance. 

Alix drifted past her, her bored humming and the ever so slight squeak of the wheels of her heelies joining the sound of summer in the park. Slowly, she let her gaze drift down to the open group chat on her phone.  

Mylène 🌼 : Running a little late!

Mylène 🌼 : The rally one overtime 

Mylène 🌼 : went 

Rose 🌹💗: no problem!! 😊😊😊

Mylène 🌼 : on my way now

Mylène 🌼 : meet at the park?

Alya 🦊?!: sure meet you there

She sighed as she settled herself more comfortably against the tree she was leaning against, and let her gaze drift up. Rose was scrolling through her pinterest board of her vision for what she would wear to the dance, asking for Marinette’s opinion on the various ideas she had posted to it. Marinette was animatedly pointing to things on the screen of Rose’s phone, and though she hadn’t caught all of it, from the sounds of it she was explaining what silhouettes and shapes would best suit Rose. 

She couldn’t help but smile at the sight. A couple of weeks ago, she hadn’t been sure when she would see Marinette smile again. At times, it had felt more like a question of ‘if’ than ‘when.’ She could tell Marinette was still stressed; her friend, though much more lively ever since Tigress came onto the scene, was still bit quieter than usual. More subdued.  

But still… 

She was smiling again. And that was a victory in and of itself.

And if Luka was finally getting some sense into that thick head of his… hopefully, Marinette would have a lot more to smile about soon. 

Her gaze drifted from Marinette to take in the vivid greens of the park before stopping to land on Alya. 

Alya was furiously typing away on her phone, her brows furrowed in concentration. She had said she was working on her next post for the Ladyblog�� Part of her really wanted to give her fired the benefit of the doubt. And it was entirely possible that she was typing that furiously because she was writing another article. Chat Noir had been mentioning he and Ladybug—with a very pointed lack of mention of any other heroes—should do another interview with the Ladyblog. Ladybug had been noncommittal, but maybe she had ended up agreeing to it. 

But no matter how much she hoped that was what Alya was typing, she wasn’t feeling particularly optimistic. Especially given Alya’s reaction when Marinette had announced she would go to the dance after all…  

“So,” Alya said with a definitive air as she looked up from her phone with a smile. “I figured we would start at Genevieve Consignment, that way we can work our way down the street and hit all the best second-hand places first. Then we can go to the department and specialty stores as we make our way to that fabric store you like, Marinette.”

“And we’re getting dinner, right?”

“Yes, then we can grab dinner. Sound good?” 

“Sounds perfect to me!” Rose chirped.  

Alix shrugged. “As long as we’re getting dinner, I’m good.” 

“We can skip the fabric store this time, though.”

“Oh, already found the perfect fabric for your dress?” Alya asked, the beginnings of a knowing Cheshire smile spreading across her face. 

Marinette shook her head. “No, I’m not making one.” The grin quickly dropped from Alya’s face as Marinette continued. “I was just going to buy one.”

 “What?” A group of passing tourists shot Rose bewildered looks at the sound of her shriek. “But you always make your dresses!” 

Despite knowing what she knew, she couldn’t help but be surprised herself. Not to the degree she would have been if she didn’t know certain secrets. But still… 

Before she was able to muster her words, Alix cocked her head to the side and said, “But at the Winter Formal you were all excited about making your dress for the next dance.” 

“What about Adrien?” Alya cried, “He complimented your dress at the Winter Formal. Don’t you want to impress him with another design?” Forget Adrien, what about the fact that one of Marinette’s favourite things to design was formal dresses? “Just think, he’d see you in a beautiful dress you made and he would see how incredible and talented you are and it would be perfect!” Yeah. Sure. Just like the last three dances… “It’s going to be the nigh, I just know it! It needs to be special!” 

“Hey girls! Sorry I’m… what’s all the commotion about?” Mylène’s voice trailed off as she drew closer to them, her brows furrowing as her gaze darted between their faces.

“Marinette says she isn’t making her dress for the dance!” Alya announced. 

“What? But why?” 

Finally, the obvious question. 

Marinette shrugged. “I don’t have the time. The dance is in two weeks.”

“But what about Adrien?” 

An odd look flickered across Marinette’s face at Alya’s question. But before Marinette could say anything, Mylène gently bumped Marinette with her hip. “Don’t worry, Marinette,” Mylène said comfortingly, “I’m sure we can find a dress that’ll impress Adrien.” 

Marinette blinked at Mylène. “I don’t want to stress about impressing anyone, I just want to find a dress I like.” 

“We’ll make sure we find you the most perfect dress ever, right girls?”  

“That’s the point of this trip, isn’t it?” 

“Hey,” Alya said as she slung her arm around Marinette’s shoulders, “Maybe it won’t be as amazing as something you’d make, but we’re going to find the perfect dress! Adrien won’t know what hit him!” 

Taking that as their rallying cry, Alix glided ahead. “C’mon slowpokes,” she cried over her shoulder, leaving the rest of them no choice but to follow. 

She tried to catch Marinette’s eye as they started out, but she was sandwiched between Alya and Mylène. Marinette had said she wanted to find a dress she liked. But she had a sinking suspicion the search was going to end up binge for a dress Adrien would like. 

“This is going to be so much fun!” Rose squealed as she sidled up beside her. 

Despite the rather sour thoughts swirling in her head—and her suspicions that were quickly sinking toward the pit in her stomach—she couldn’t help at smile at Rose’s infectious enthusiasm and sunny smile. “It’s going to be a big day,” she agreed.  

She was looking forward to spending the afternoon with her friends. Despite her ever-growing frustrations and resentment toward their habit of shoving Adrien into the epicentre of most of their hangouts, they were still her friends. And she was never one to say no to a shopping trip. Especially to second hand places, which they were hitting first at Mylène’s insistence. You never knew what treasures you could find in them. 

But… 

She bit back a sigh. She was glad Marinette was going to the dance; she had been really worried when Marinette had shown so little interest in it. She understood why Marinette hadn’t been focused on it, but she had still been worried. Marinette loved school dances. She loved any chance to celebrate something. 

So it had been a relief when Marinette had announced she would go to the dance after all. 

But it seemed the question of what Marinette was going to wear to the dance had brought a whole new host of problems… 

                                                            ***

“What about these?” She looked up from the box of gloves she was rifling through, looking for the match to the black lace opera glove she had found, at the sound of Alya’s voice, just in time to see her push a couple of dresses into Marinette’s hands. 

Marinette looked down at the dresses in her hands. A look of apprehension settled over her faces as she held up the two dresses. “I don’t know, they’re not really my style-”

“Exactly!”

What?

“It never hurts to try new things, right?” 

“I guess…” Marinette said, eyeing the dresses dubiously as she meandered toward the dressings rooms with Alya trailing closely after her. 

“Besides,” Alya added slyly , “If you try something new, Adrien will have to notice you!” 

Marinette froze in the entry to the dressing room. With the curtain still open, she could see the mirror inside the dressing room. And in the mirror, she caught a glimpse of a grimace twisting its way onto Marinette’s face before her friend slid the curtain shut behind her.

If Alya noticed the lack of response, she didn’t say anything. Instead, all she called out was, “Make sure you come out and show us!” before whipping out her phone.  

She bit back a groan as she turned her attention back to the box of gloves with a scowl, though she did her best to hide it. At least if any of the girls noticed, she could blame it on having a hard time finding the matching glove.   

She should have expected this. She should have planned for this. Because of course, the question of what Marinette would wear would end up being focused on Adrien. Especially given the hints Alya had been dropping about how Adrien didn’t have a date for the dance yet and how his father was actually allowing him to attend were as subtle as akuma costumes. So far, Marinette had brushed those hints off with hummed acknowledgements and deflections. But she wasn’t sure how much longer that would last. 

And, much to her frustration, she hadn’t been able to do much about it. 

Every time she managed to subtly redirect the conversation to a different topic, it would eventually—inevitably—circle back to Adrien. And it wasn’t just Alya, though she was definitely spearheading the efforts. The rest of the girls were dropping hints too. If it could even be called that at this point…  

But the point of the matter was, she was completely outnumbered. 

Honestly, she had been for a long time. 

Yeah, Aimee had been able to help her with the photoshoot scheme. But Aimee was busy with her own stuff, especially now that she was working for Marinette’s parents as their social media manager and photographer. Aimee helped her when and where she could, but it wasn’t often. And even when she could help it was still just the two of them. 

Her ma didn’t mind running interference when she was on board the Liberty, but that was as far as she would go. Besides, involving her ma would be like setting off fireworks in a library.

She sighed. If only she was able to get more help. But there wasn’t really anyone else she could go to… 

The guys… she grimaced. Kim was an obvious no; the whole Ondine debacle had made it clear Kim wasn’t the most… in touch with the nuances of romance. Add in the fact that Kim was the opposite of subtle… 

Max wasn’t an option either. While he could probably make a great spreadsheet of all the reasons why Luka and Marinette were so much better for each other than Adrien and Marinette were, somehow, she couldn’t see him being super into the scheming and meddling. 

Nathaniel was a no too. He was too busy with his comic. And weirdly, he seemed to like the idea of Adrien and Marinette getting together. 

Ivan? Marinette had helped him get together with Mylène. She wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to return the favour. But while he was friends with Luka, and in the band to boot, the problem was that he was also Mylène’s boyfriend. Which meant she had definitely told him all the ‘reasons’ Marinette should be with Adrien. No, Ivan was too close to this. 

And Nino? Nino was an obvious no. Even if he at least had the decency to look embarrassed—hopefully he actually was—every time he was involved in a plot, he was still involved. And if push came to shove, she knew he would side with Alya over common sense. 

Adrien- she wasn’t even going to go there. 

But that was all the guys in class. And none of them were even close to being potential allies. 

She sighed again as she let her gaze drift over the consignment store as she blindly rifled through the hodge-podge of gloves. She was losing hope fast. 

Her gaze landed on Alix, who was picking through a bunch of shoes displayed in a bookcase with an air of disinterest. 

Alix? Alix was a tough one. On one hand, she wasn’t afraid to say it like it was. If she pointed out how bad Adrien and Marinette would be together, she might actually listen and come to the same realization she had. On the other hand, Alix, while being the least invested in the plots, was still invested. And even if Alix did decide to jump ship, there was no guarantee she would help her. And if she did, subtlety would be out of the question. 

No. Alix wasn’t an option. 

Her eyes found Mylène just as her friend was going into a dressing room with a few dresses draped over her arm. There was no way Mylène would stand up against Alya. And Mylène fully supported the Adrienette ship in her own right, so it was a double no for her. 

She glanced at Alya, who was still standing by the dressing rooms, grinning down at her phone screen. There was no point even considering Alya, given she was the one who led the charge on all the Adrien schemes in the first place…

Which just left Rose. 

She sighed as her gaze dropped back down to the box of gloves. 

She loved Rose with all her heart, and she wanted nothing more than to bring her in on her plans. And there was no doubt in her mind that Rose would fully support Marinette and Luka if she knew how they felt about each other, and how much happier they would be together. But there were two problems; she couldn’t bring Rose in without betraying Luka and Marinette’s trust, because Rose would ask questions. Rose would want to know all the details, even the ones she had sworn to secrecy. Even the ones Marinette didn’t know she knew… 

The other problem was that Rose was in love with love. Yes, she would undoubtedly support Marinette and Luka. But she also still fully supported Marinette and Adrien because she was blinded by the romance. Blinded by the ‘made for each other’ narrative that Alya sold with every breath she took. 

Halfheartedly, she pushed the last few gloves around not expecting to find anything. A flash of black half buried under a chartreuse suede glove caught her eye. Carefully, she shifted the mass of gloves to unearth the match to the glove. 

At least she had found one of the things she was looking for… 

“What do you think?” She snapped her attention up at the sound of Rose’s voice just in time to see Rose burst out of one of the dressing rooms, wearing a pink sequinned romper. “Is it too much?” she asked as she struck a pose. 

Despite her heavy thoughts, she couldn’t help but smile. “For you? Never,” she murmured, eliciting a blinding beam from her girlfriend. 

“Good, because I love it!” Rose squealed with a shimmy that made her and her outfit sparkle. “Those are cute,” she said, gesturing to the glove in her hand. “Are you going to get them?” 

“Yeah. I-”

“Marinette!” She and Rose both turned at the sound of Alya’s voice. Marinette had emerged from the dressing room. Wearing her own clothes and with the dresses in hand. “How come you didn’t come out to show us?” 

Marinette shrugged as she deposited the dresses on the rail for cloths to be returned to the shop floor. “They weren’t right.”

                                                            ***

 The metallic sound of hangers sliding against metal filled the air as she and Marinette rifled through the racks of dresses. They were on their fifth shop now, and neither of them had found dresses yet. A little further down the aisle, Alya was rifling through a display, muttering something to Rose and Mylène, but her words were lost in the distance between them. 

Something between a sigh and a groan escaped Marinette as she slid a few more dresses along the rail, the hangers clattering together from the force with which she had shoved them. “This is hopeless!” 

“Can’t you just wear something you already have?” She and Marinette both glanced up as Alix rolled toward them on her heelies, carting a silver and green windbreaker and a pair of ripped jeans along with her. “It seems like a simple fix if you can’t find anything you like. Didn’t Adrien say he liked that purple dress you wore the other week?” Alix asked as she stopped to pick through the rail opposite the ones that held the dresses.

 Alix, her back turned and her attention on the row of clothes opposite, missed the way Marinette’s face soured at the mention of Adrien’s name.

“That’s a day dress, it’s not really an occasion dress.”    

“Ok, what about one of the things you made for your shop? Or the dress you wore to the winter dance?” 

Marinette shook her head. “All of that is too casual. I don’t want to be underdressed! And the dress I wore to the winter dance is made of velvet, it would be way too hot.” 

Alix shrugged. “Well, if you’re not going to make yourself something or wear something you already have, keep looking. I’m sure you’ll find something. You’re the one that said there’s all sorts of hidden gems in these places,” Alix said, turning to motion to the racks of clothes in the thrift shop. “I found these,” Alix added, holding up her finds as if to prove her point.

“Those don’t look like dance clothes.” 

She turned. Rose had come up behind her, and was surveying the clothes Alix was holding, her head tilted to the side and her brows furrowed. 

“I’m wearing the suit Mari made me for the fall formal.”

“But you’ve worn it to the last two dances!” Rose cried. 

“Yeah, cause it rocks. And black is a classic.”

“Thanks,” Marinette said quietly, her words almost lost to Rose’s squealed protests. 

“But-“ 

“I’m ditching the jacket and wearing a different shirt, so it’ll look different. Oh, by the way, there’s a sequinned bag back that way.” 

The allure of a glittery accessory was too much for Rose, who darted in the direction Alix had nodded, throwing a hurried thanks over her shoulder. 

“Well,” Alix said matter of factly, “I’m going to go try these on.” And then she was gone, rolling toward the dressing rooms. She watched as Alix’s shock of pink hair disappeared behind a rack of clothing. 

“I guess she’s right…” Marinette mumbled. She turned back to look at her friend, who was looking at the rail of dresses with a rather gloomy expression. They had been going through the entire rail, ignoring the size categories as the inventory was jumbled together . And there had been plenty of nice dresses, some really nice ones that were in Marinette’s size that had been in the wrong section. But Marinette had taken them rather reluctantly, and without her usual enthusiasm that came with shopping for clothes. 

Slowly, Marinette began flicking through the dresses again. 

She opened her mouth. And then closed it. Right from the get go, Marinette had insisted she wouldn’t be making her dress for this dance. When pressed by the girls, had said she just didn’t have time for making a dress. That was unsurprising, given everything. But that didn’t explain why she was so unenthused about the whole shopping process. She doubted all the Adrien comments Alya—and the rest of the girls—kept dropping every time Marinette even so much as picked up a dress were helping matters. But she couldn’t help but feel there was something more to Marinette’s disinterest in dress shopping… 

 “That one is nice,” she said quietly, nodding her head to the floral chiffon dress Marinette was examining. It was nice. It was a perfectly nice dress. The design was a little bland and the colour was a little boring, but it was nice enough for a dance. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Marinette sighed noncommittally. 

“But…?” 

Marinette shrugged listlessly as she took the dress off the rail and went back to flicking through the dresses. “I guess I won’t know until I try it. It’s just… it’s silly.” 

“I bet it isn’t.” They were nearing the end of the last rack of dresses, and they had pitiful results so far to show for their effort. Marinette had taken only three dresses, and none of them had been met with much enthusiasm. She had grabbed a couple, but to be honest, she wasn’t all that concerned with what she would wear. She had a bunch of black dresses she could wear to the dance. It wasn’t like anyone would notice if she wore an old dress, given she always wore black to school dances. It was a classic for a reason. 

Marinette bit her lip as stared steadfastly at the rail as she continued to search through the dresses. She could tell Marinette was weighing her words, trying to decide how best to say whatever it was she needed to say, by the way she stared so intently at the clothes on the rail. “Well…” she said slowly, a faint flush creeping up on her face, “it’s just that- it’s- it’s perfect!” 

“What-“ she was cut off by Marinette’s squeal as her friend pulled a dress from the rack. And then shoved it into her hands… 

She had been hoping Marinette had found a dress for herself. But… 

Looking at the dress, she had to admit, it was perfect. Even if she was a little peeved Marinette hadn’t found a dress for herself. Slowly, she ran a hand along the silky fabric. Sprays of thorny roses had been woven into the fabric; the subtle black on black design almost seemed to shift under the store lights. It would look incredible under the lights of the dance.

“Oh, are you going to try that on?” She looked up from the dress to see  Mylène wandering toward them, her arms laden with dresses. 

She  glanced back down at the dress. “Yeah, I am.” 

“What did you find, Mylène?” Marinette brushed past her to look at the dresses Mylene had selected. “That one is really pretty!” 

“Yeah,”  Mylène sighed happily as she held up the dress. “Sunflowers are my favourite. Ivan’s too. So I’m hoping the fit will be good.”  Mylène settled the dress back over her arm. “What did you find, Mari?” 

“Not much,” Marinette sighed, her enthusiasm instantly waning the moment the topic shifted to her dress selections.  

“That one is nice,”  Mylène offered tentatively as Marinette shuffled through the scant few dresses she had found. 

“It’s ok,” Marinette said half-heartedly. “But I guess we should go try things on. Unless you’re not done looking, Jules…” 

“No. No I’m good to try things on now,” she mumbled, her brows furrowing as Marinette and  Mylène both turned and headed in the direction of the dressing rooms. Judging from the way  Mylène not so subtly kept looking at Marinette, it was obvious Marinette’s lack of enthusiasm wasn’t lost on her either. 

She trailed after them, chewing her lip as she went. Marinette’s enthusiasm had quickly dwindled throughout the afternoon. Usually, Marinette adored thrifting and shopping in general. But she had been… listless. Or at least, when it came to shopping for herself. Every time her attention was turned to what someone else might try on, Marinette was bright and excited. But the second it came to her outfit… 

“Look at what I found!” She emerged from the end of the aisle in time to see Alya rushing toward them, with Rose quickly trailing after her. Rose’s arms were laden with her own shopping bags, and what looked like dresses Alya had pulled for herself. Alya was brandishing two hangers; from one hung a swirly looking skirt the colour of ripe tangerines, and from the other hung a matching crop top. “Isn’t it great? I saw it on the rack one of the employees had just brought out from the back!” 

“That colour would be gorgeous on you!” Marinette gushed as she reached out to examine the fabric of the skirt. 

Alya preened. “Thanks. I mean, I still have to try it on, and I’ll try on the rest of the stuff I found but… I think it’s  going to be the one! What did you find, girl?” 

“Oh, you know, just a couple dresses. Should we?” she asked, nodding toward the dressing rooms. 

“Absolutely,” Alya said as she shifted her newest find to one hand so she could take the bundle of dresses from Rose. “Thanks. Now come on!” 

“You all have to come out and show us!” Rose squealed, already pulling her phone out, no doubt to summon Alix. 

 Mylène and Alya were already heading into dressing rooms. As she and Marinette headed toward the last free ones, she shot Marinette an encouraging smile. Marinette returned it with a smile of her own that wavered only a little before turning to fully disappear into her dressing room. She tugged the curtain of her own dressing room shut. 

She made quick work of changing out her own clothes, and then she stepped into the dress. She tugged up the zip before stepping back to examine her reflection.  The skirt was slim but… she gave an experimental swivel of her hips; it still had enough of a flare to flow nicely around her legs with a satisfying swish. It would be perfect for dancing. She turned and looked back over her shoulder to examine the reflection of the back of the dress. The narrow straps separated at the top of her shoulders, turning from single straps to three thinner ones that criss-crossed over her back in a woven pattern that reminded her vaguely of a spiderweb.

She turned to fully face the mirror again, and let a slow smile crawl across her face as she fished the gloves she had bought out of her bag. She slipped the gloves on, and her smile turned to a grin. 

 It was perfect. 

All she needed was shoes and… she tilted her head side to side. A choker would be the perfect touch. A lace one maybe… 

That was something she could do easily enough herself. 

Her smile grew as she heard Rose squeal from the other side of the curtain. Quietly, she drew back the curtain. Alya was wearing the crop top and skirt set, and she was positively glowing as she struck a pose. 

“What do you think?” 

“It looks amazing, Alya!” Rose gushed, her eyes sparkling. 

“It looks really great on you!” Mylène offered quietly. She hadn’t seen Mylène emerge, but she was standing there in the floral dress, her usually shy smile wider than usual. 

“You look awesome too, girl!” 

“You both look great,” Alix piped up from where she was sprawled on a bench by the entrance to the dressing room area. 

“Yeah,” she said quietly as she stepped out of the dressing room. “Those really suit you both.” 

The second the words left her mouth, four pairs of eyes snapped toward her. They were all silent. She could feel the weight of their gaze on her. A couple of months ago, with so many eyes trained directly on her, her shoulders would have been hunching and curling in, and her hands would have been itching to fidget with her skirt. But now- 

“Bijou!” It was fortunate there was no glass nearby, Rose’s squeal was so high-pitched. “You look gorgeous!” 

“That dress is perfect for you!” 

“You look incredible!” 

Her cheeks were growing warm under the force of their praise. “Thanks,” she murmured. 

“Hey, Mari!” Alix shouted, ignoring the looks of other shoppers nearby, “get out here and take a look!” 

Marinette poked her head out from behind the curtain, and her face lit up. “I knew it! I knew that dress would be perfect for you! You look incredible!”

“Thank you.” She couldn’t stop the grin from crawling across her face at Marinette’s praise. 

Marinette’s gaze drifted over to Alya and Mylène, thought she remained awkwardly hidden behind the curtain, with only her head sticking out. “You both look incredible too!” she gushed. “Please tell me you’re all getting those!” 

“Girl, I don’t know if I’m even going to take it off!” Alya laughed as she twirled. “I might just have to wear it out!” 

“But then it won’t be special!” Rose protested. 

“I’m definitely getting mine!” 

“So are you going to come out, or what, girl?” Alya asked, still laughing gleefully. 

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Marinette promised before snapping the curtain closed. 

She frowned. The look in Marinette’s eye at the mention of her coming out of the dressing room… 

She hadn’t been particularly optimistic about any of the dresses, given Marinette’s reaction to them. Still, she had hoped that Marinette would like something. At least enough to show the rest of them. 

But the sound of the curtain of Marinette’s dressing room sliding open dashed what shreds of hope she had left. 

“Nothing?” Rose asked, her face falling. 

Marinette shook her head, looking both disappointed and defeated as she hung the rejected dresses on the rack by the end of the line of dressing rooms. “Let’s check out the shoe store around the corner, I think I could do with a break from trying on dresses…” 

                                                            ***

The second she had pushed the door open to the shoe store and made room for the rest of their group to enter, Alix made a beeline for the display of sneakers. Rose took Mylène by the arm and hauled her toward the back of the store, where there was a display of glittering party shoes. Alya was hot on their heels, already exclaiming over a pair in the display. 

Marinette hung back, lingering by the display stand right by the entrance. So she hung back too. 

“Those are fun,” she murmured, nodding to the pump Marinette had picked up, and was absently turning over in her hands. 

Marinette shrugged. “It’s fine,” she said quietly, before putting it back down and drifting toward one of the side walls. She trailed silently after her. Marinette stopped in front of another display, this one made up of scrappy sandals in a rainbow of colours. Marinette picked up a silver pair and smiled at them before putting them back down. “What about those?” she asked, pointing to a pair of black sandals. 

“For you or me?” Marinette raised a brow, and then rolled her eyes and smiled in mock exasperation . “They’re cute. But I already have a flat pair like that. Honestly,” she said, dropping her voice, “I probably didn’t even need to come on this trip. I have a ton of stuff I could wear, and it all goes together.” 

“The beauty of black,” Marinette said, nodding sagely. But then a little grin worked its way onto her face. “But if you hadn’t come you wouldn’t have gotten those gloves. Or the dress…” 

“Touché.” 

“Though…” Marinette hummed, “there’s no way I would have left that dress on the rack. Not when it’s so you.”

“That’s why you’re the best.” Marinette waved her off, smiling as she picked up another heeled sandal to examine it. “But honestly, I don’t need to buy any shoes. Not unless they’re something special. You know?”

“Yeah,” Marinette sighed as she put down yet another shoe before heading toward the next display. 

She followed closely behind. They examined the next two displays in relative silence. The others drifted by, toting boxes of shoes to try or teetering past in shoes they were testing out. After another rejected pair of shoes, and once the coast was relatively clear, she leaned in a little closer beside Marinette. 

“You don’t really seem to be all that into this. Is everything ok? Back at the last place, you were saying something when you found my dress. What was it?” she asked quietly. 

Marinette looked up in surprise, but then her face softened and her cheeks flushed. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, about what I want…” 

“Yeah?” 

“I want to go after it. I want to design my own dress and go to the dance with-“ Marinette cut herself off as she ducked her head. But she didn’t miss the deepening flush in her friend’s cheeks. It was kind of cute how Mari and Luke were still so bashful talking about their feelings with her. It was infuriating. But cute. “But I have this… this vision of what the night would look like. What I would wear, who I would go with…  Assuming he would would say yes.” 

As if he would ever say no. If anything, the thing Marinette should have been worrying about was the likelihood of Luka accidentally skipping the whole ‘first date’ thing and  proposing to her on the spot. But given Marinette’s past experiences with romance and her brother’s noble yet idiotic attempts to not pressure Marinette… she could see why her friend was feeling apprehensive.

“Were you- were you going to ask him?” she asked quietly.

Marinette gave a shallow nod of her head. “I was thinking about it. I want to. But it’s just-” Marinette turned to look at her with a wry, half-smile, “it’s scary, you know?” 

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly. She did know. If Rose hadn’t made the first move, she probably never would have worked up the courage to ask her out herself. And she had had it so much easier, compared to Marinette. No one had shoved a supposed soulmate in her face while she was pining after Rose. “But if it’s any consolation,” she continued, weighing her words carefully. Her brother may have been more obvious that flashing neon lights, but he had still admitted his feelings for Marinette to her in confidence. “I don’t think you need to worry about him saying no.”

“Maybe…“ Marinette sighed, her eyes drifting toward the other side of the shop where the rest of the girls were and a frown twisting on her lips.”But even if he does say yes, I don’t have time to make my dress and…”

“Nothing is living up to your vision?” she offered. 

Marinette nodded. “It’s just, nothing is quite right,” she groaned as she picked up a silver shoe. She had picked that one up three times already; it was a silver kitten heel with an open toe and a small crystal embellishment on it. She had been gravitating to that pair for a while now. 

“Those seem to be telling you they’re right,” she quipped, quirking a half grin at Marinette when she glanced down at the shoe in her hands and then back up at her. 

“Yeah, I really like them.”

“But?”

“But I don’t want to get a pair before I have my dress-“

“Oh, those are cute, Marinette!” Mylène said as she made her way over, only wobbling slightly in the wedges she was wearing. “I bet Adrien would think they are too!” Marinette had been doing a pretty good job so far of hiding the sour look that came across her face every time the blond came up, but cracks were starting to show in her facade. “What do you two think of these?” 

“I like them,” she murmured, looking down at the woven wedges. 

“Me too. But you might want to try a pair with ankle straps, they’ll stay on better when you’re dancing.” 

“Oh, good point. Thanks!” She watched as Mylène went back to the other side of the store. Once all of her friends were out of ear shot again, she turned and dropped her voice. 

“I take it the Adrien comments aren’t helping.” 

Marinette shook her head. “I told them I didn’t want to try and impress anyone but…” 

“They’re committed,” she sighed. 

Speaking of committed… 

“What did you find, girl?” Alya asked as she sidled up beside Marinette. “Oooh, those are great!” she added as she picked up the matching silver shoe from the display. 

“Yeah, I really like them,” Marinette said, a wistful note in her voice as she smiled down at the shoe in her hand. 

“You have to get them! Just think, Adrien’s always wearing that silver ring of his and…” Alya trailed off as he whipped out her phone and began typing. As Alya’s fingers flew across the keyboard on her phone screen, a pit began to form in her stomach. A second later, Alya’s phone dinged and her face lit up like the sky on Bastille Day. “Look!” Alya said as she shoved her phone into hers and Marinette’s faces. “That’s what Nino said Adrien is going to wear to the dance. You could match!” 

She had to bite back a frown as she stared at the picture on Alya’s screen. It was of a suit spread out on what she assumed was Adrien’s bed. The jacket and pants were black, and the shirt was a stark, crisp white. Beside the suit was a pair of black dress shoes with silver buckles in the shape of the Agreste logo and a matching belt. 

“If you wear these,” Alya continued, waving the silver show she was holding, “you can match Adrien. Even better!” Alya gasped. “You wear these and-“ 

“I’m not buying shoes until I have a dress,” Marinette said crisply as she put the shoe she was holding back down on the display with a note of finality. 

“But Marinette-“ 

“I don’t want to buy shoes until I have a dress.” Marinette said emphatically. “I don’t want to end up with a dress and shoes that don’t go together.” 

“But if you get a white dress you could match. And white would go-“ 

“There’s no guarantee I’ll find a dress to go with these.” Marinette said, her voice firm. 

The fact that Marinette had left out the mention of a white dress did not escape her. Though it was hard to tell if Alya had noticed as well. 

“Not if you keep shutting down everything you try on before you give it a real chance,” Alya groaned. 

“I’ve been trying stuff on…” 

“Yeah, but you haven’t shown any of the things you’ve tried on to us!”

“Nothing was worth showing.” 

“See! This is what I mean! You aren’t going to make your own dress, but you’re not giving any of the dresses you’ve tried a proper chance… I still can’t believe you aren’t going to make your dress!” Alya said as she held up a pair of black pumps, frowned, then put them back down.

“I don’t have time. And, I don’t have a design!  Even if I started now and kept the design simple, two weeks isn’t a lot of time.”

“But you have a sketchbook full of designs!” 

“None for a dance though.” 

“Whatever you say,” Alya sighed, with a rather disbelieving note in her voice. “But you need to wear something.” 

“I know…” Marinette grumbled. 

Something between a sigh and laugh escaped Alya. She wrapped an arm around Marinette’s shoulders, he face softening as she did so. “Don’t worry girl, we’ll find you something amazing to wear that’ll be sure to catch Adrien’s attention. And knock his socks off while we’re at it.” Alya looked away from Marinette to meet her eyes. “Right, Juleka?” 

She hesitated. Just for a moment. A second, really. It wasn’t like she was going to agree with Alya. Well, not word for word at least… Something flashed through Alya’s eyes. It was so quick, she would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking. 

“We’ll make sure you have something beautiful to wear,” she said carefully before smiling encouragingly at Marinette. 

“Thanks, guys.” 

Alya grinned. “Don’t worry, I promise Adrien won’t know what hit him!” 

Marinette smiled—what seemed a pretty forced smile that didn’t reach her eyes— but said nothing. 

“Alya!” They all looked up and across the store at the sound of Rose’s voice. Rose was haphazardly waving a shoe around, oblivious to Mylène’s attempts to get her to stop shouting and waving. “You have to come try these on! They’ll go great with your outfit!” Rose cried, brandishing a gold shoe. 

“Coming!” Alya called, taking a step toward the rest of the girls before turning to look back over her shoulder. “You two coming?” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Marinette trying to think of something to say. 

“In a minute,” she said quietly. “I want to finish checking out the stuff over here.” 

“Marinette?” 

“Same. We’ll let you know if we see anything else you might want to try on.” 

“Sounds good,” Alya said with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. And it definitely wasn’t her imagination. Alya’s gaze lingered on her for a second before she turned to hurry over toward Rose, Mylène, and Alix. 

She watched Alya go, her stomach sinking a little with every step Alya took. That had been… 

She shook her head, and turned back to Marinette. Marinette had started wandering further toward the back of the store. With a sigh, and another shake of her head, she followed. 

Marinette had said that she didn’t have time to design and make a dress. It had to be because of Ladybug stuff, right? She definitely seemed less overwhelmed than she had a couple of weeks ago.  Marinette was calling on her a lot for akuma battles, which were now taking way less time than usual. So that had to be helping. But… 

It couldn’t just be the akuma battles that were eating up her time. 

But what other duties there were that was keeping Marinette so busy. She knew there were the patrols Ladybug did to keep an eye on the city… She bit her lip. A couple days ago, after they had wrapped up a battle, she had caught the tail end of an argument between Ladybug and Chat Noir. He had been complaining about how things had changed ever since she became the ‘guardian.’ It sounded important, but she didn’t really know what being a guardian entailed. Or how much it was adding to Marinette’s already overflowing plate. 

Surreptitiously, she glanced around the store. Alya, Rose, and Mylène were at the far, front corner of the store trying on shoes. Alix was listless wandering around looking at the sneakers. All of them—and what few other shoppers were in the store—were all out of ear shot. 

“Your job still keeping you busy?” she asked quietly as she picked up a shoe and pretended to examine it. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Marinette cast a quick glance around the store before nodding.

“Yeah. I took your advice. I was able to bring in another t- coworker. And she’s doing really well. She’s helping a lot.” She willed the flush beginning to brew in her face to subside. Marinette didn’t know that she knew what her job was. “But it’s still keeping me busy.”

“Oh?” she asked casually as she put the shoe down and picked up a pump that she didn’t even bother to pretend to look at. 

“I’ve still got a lot of shifts I have to cover. I… I want to see how she handles more responsibilities, but I feel like it’s too early to ask more from her. She’s still new, and I don’t want to rush her or throw her in the deep end.”

“Would it hurt to ask? I mean, worst case scenario she isn’t ready.” But that wouldn’t happen. She would be ready for anything if need be.

“I guess… but even if she said yes, two weeks still isn’t much time… I would have to make the design and draft the pattern. And I don’t like using new patterns without a mockup first. And I would have to find fabric…” 

She smiled at the sight of Marinette’s face, which was already morphing into the dreamy yet laser focused smile she always wore when slipped into the her own little world of designs and dresses and fabrics. 

 “I bet you’d pull together something amazing, even if it is only two weeks. You always do.”

Marinette blushed. “Thanks. I’d have to see if she says yes,” she hummed.

Of course she would say yes. But, “If she doesn’t, you know can always ask me for help, right?” It couldn’t hurt to remind Marinette she and Ladybug could rely on her. 

“I know,” she said quietly, “and I don’t think I can ever tell you how much it means.” 

She shrugged. “It’s what friends are for.” 

“Well, you’re the best,” she said, leaning against her in an approximation of a hug before she bolted upright. She took a few hurried steps to the next display over and grabbed something—a pair of shoes she presumed though the store also sold bags—before whirling around. “What do you think of these?” 

“They’re awesome. But I didn’t think those would really be your style-“

“Not for me! For you!”  Marinette laughed as she held the shoes out to her. 

Tentatively, she took them. They were incredible. They were open-toed sandals with straps that laced up around the ankle with straps made from a sheer black mesh, embroidered all over with black roses and twisting, thorny vines. Little black rhinestones were scattered across the straps, and packed onto the heels of the shoes, catching the light and glimmering. They were gorgeous.  

But…

“I don’t know, I don’t really wear heels…” She had always felt out of place, being taller than so many of her classmates. And yeah, boys thinking she was too tall was the last thing she was worried about, but… she frowned. She had never really known how to carry herself; being so tall tended to draw a degree of attention—and comments—she had never really been comfortable with. And so she had always slumped and hunched her shoulders, and avoided adding extra height at all costs.  

She had… 

“Oh, that’s ok then. I just thought they would look amazing on you-“

But a tigress didn’t care what other people thought. 

“But it wouldn’t hurt to try,” she said, kneeling down to look for a box in her size. Once she had the shoebox in hand, she sat on the closest bench, kicked her shoes off, and slipped the heels on. Once she had secured the straps around her legs, she stood up. The heel wasn’t too high, but between the heel and the platform… she was towering. 

“Bijou!” Rose squealed, tottering over on sparkly pink heels that were far too tall for her girlfriend to walk in without risking breaking an ankle. “You look amazing!! You’re so tall!”

Tentatively, she took a few steps in them. They were comfortable. She would still be able to walk and dance in them. And… Tigress didn’t wear heels. Fighting akumas in heels was just asking for disaster. But somehow, they still felt like Tigress’s boots. They were grounding, but agile. 

They were powerful. 

“Those really suit you,” Marinette said, grinning. 

“Yeah,” she said quietly as she took a few more steps, a smile forming on her own face as she watched the light bounce off the crystals, “they do.” 

                                                           ***

“C’mon girl, what’s wrong with that one?” 

Marinette glanced at the reflection and wrinkled her nose. “It’s just… it’s not right.” 

Personally, she had to agree with Marinette. It was a nice enough dress. It looked nice on Marinette. But it just wasn’t anything special. It couldn’t even hold a candle to the dresses Marinette usually made for herself for school dances. 

But at least Marinette had come out of the dressing room to show them this one. 

“I still don’t get why you aren’t just making one.” 

“Well-“ 

“I know, I know, you don’t have time. But can’t you reuse a pattern or something? You need to wear something.” 

“I know-“ 

“What about that one?” Alya asked, pointing to the floral dress she had found and shoved into Marinette’s hands. “Daisies are Adrien’s favourite flower…” Alya sang as her words trailed off, her grin wide and the promise of yet another scheme in her voice. 

“I don’t like daisies very much. And-” 

“I still think you should just wear the purple one,” Alix said from where she was sprawled in one of the chairs by the dressing rooms. “We already know he thinks it looks good on you.” 

“It’s not formal enough though. Besides, I-“

“He’s already seen her wear that one. If she’s going to get his attention, we need something show stopping. Something that will make him notice. Like his favourite flowers, or-“

“He likes cats, so what about this one?” Rose asked, holding up a bubblegum pink dress with white cats printed all over it. 

“I think that one’s more your style, Rose,” Marinette said. “And I don’t-“

“Oh good, I was worried if you got it you wouldn’t want me to borrow it later since you’ll be wearing it on such a big night.” Before anyone could say anything more, Rose zipped into the nearest open dressing room. 

“What about this one?” Mylène asked from where she had been rifling through the rack of clothes that hadn’t been returned to the shop floor yet. She was holding up a white dress that had horizontal black stripes running across it, except for at the bottom hem where the stripers were thick, short and vertical. Almost like-

“It’s perfect!” Alya cried as she rushed over the Mylène to take the dress from her hands and inspect it. Oh no. “It’s like sheet music and piano keys! And it matches what he’s going to wear!”

The door to the changing room Rose had gone into burst open, and she emerged in a flurry of pink and white cat-printed skirts. “What’s perfect- oh! Oh, that is perfect! And it would be so romantic if you two matched!” Rose sighed dreamily. 

This was not good. 

 “It’s actually pretty cool,” Alix, who was now sitting up properly, said. 

This was not good at all. 

“You have to try it on!” Alya said. 

She watched as Alya rushed toward Marinette with the dress in hand. She needed to do something. Anything. But she was completely frozen. It was like watching a car wreck about to happen, knowing that disaster was about to strike but not being able to do anything. 

“Actually,” Marinette said, setting her shoulders as she stepped back from Alya,”I was thinking, maybe we could check out some fabric stores after all? There’s a few not far from here…” 

“Of course we can, Marinette!” Mylène said. 

“So you are going to make a dress?” 

Marinette’s gazed darted to land on her before flickering back to Alya. “Yeah,” Marinette said, nodding, “I think I figured out a way to make it work.” 

                                                        ***

She frowned down at the two spools of lace in her hands. One had a floral pattern that would compliment the roses in her dress and shoes nicely, but the other was embellished with little black seedbeds that would catch the light like her new shoes. Her frown deepened. She liked both of them. She could just get both. But she didn’t really need two new chokers. And she would still have to decide which went better with her outfit… 

She was going to need a second opinion. 

She started making her way back through the store to the approximate area she had left Marinete when she had decided to go check out the lace options. She found her in much the same spot, by the section of dressier fashion fabrics. 

But Marinette wasn’t alone anymore. 

“-absolutely perfect!” Alya exclaimed, brandishing a bolt of green taffeta. Maybe she shouldn’t have left Marinette alone while she went to go look at the lace… Marinette was staring at the bolt with a blank expression, and Alya looked like her birthday and Christmas had all been rolled into one. “Just think, when Adrien sees you in a dress that matches his eyes, he’ll have no choice but to notice you!” 

Alya was already moving to push the bolt into Marinette’s hands. She needed to think of something. Fast. She needed to-

“That shade of green doesn’t suit me,” Marinette said coolly, taking a step back and away from the offered fabric.

Alya froze, still holding the bolt out to Marinette. She blinked. But she didn’t say anything. None of the girls did. 

Marinette shifted her weight between her feet, her cheeks flushing as her gaze darted around at the other girls.

“But-” Alya started to say. 

 “I’m going to go look at the clearance section,” Marinette said quickly before turning on her heel a disappearing between two shelves overflowing with fabrics. 

They stood there in silence for what felt like forever, but was probably less than a minute. 

Mylène hummed thoughtfully, picking at the green fabric as she looked in the direction Marinette had disappeared to. “She’s right. This wouldn’t look very good on her.”

“Plus, it would put an instant target on her back,” Alix snorted. “Imagine Chloe’s reaction if someone other than her showed up wearing a dress that matched Adrien’s eyes.” 

“I- I guess you’re right…” Alya sighed, her disbelief still evident in her voice. But then Alya shook her head, and her eyes cleared. “We just can’t let her end up wearing pink.” 

“What’s wrong with pink?” Rose asked, crossing her arms and glowering at Alya as if her honour had been insulted. Which… it kind of had been… To even imply anything negative about the colour pink was a personal affront to Rose. 

“Nothing!” Alya said, taking a step back as she raised her hands. “It looks great on her! And you!” Alya added hastily. Rose’s face softened ever so slightly. “It’s just that she always wears pink. If she wants to catch Adrien’s attention then she needs to stand out! Change up her look a bit! And just think how romantic it will be when he sees her in a new light at the dance…” 

Alya’s words had their intended effect; Rose’s frown melted, mollified by the mention of dances and romance. And the reassurance there was nothing wrong with the colour pink. 

“I guess you’re right. And it would be romantic…” except for the fact that no one should need to see Marinette wearing different colour for them to notice her “…but if she won’t wear green to match his eyes…” Rose lit up like a lightbulb, squealing in excitement. “What about red! It’s such a romantic colour…”

Oh no.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear red before…” Alix said thoughtfully.

Oh no. 

“And I bet it would look great on her!” Mylène added. 

Alya was grinning now. “It would! And… Adrien is a big fan of Ladybug… if she wears it, there’s no way he’ll miss her!” Alya crowed, already taking off in the direction Marinette had gone. “Red will be her lucky colour, for sure!” she called over her shoulder. 

Oh no no no. 

With a curse directed at Alya,  the colour red, and the Universe for good measure muttered under her breath, she followed Alya and the rest of the girls further into the store. 

                                                              ***

Thankfully, Marinette left the store empty handed. 

Which was not what she would have called a win an hour ago. But…

“I still can’t believe you didn’t get it,” Alya griped. “It was perfect!” 

Alya was too busy carrying on to notice Marinette’s grimace. “I don’t want to wear red. And I told you, I don’t want to buy any fabric until I have a design,” Marinette sighed. 

And she was sure that was true. Marinette always liked to have a plan. But she had also noticed Marinette had gravitated toward the soft, fluffy, cloud like tulles and the gauzy organzas and chiffons while they were in the store. And, she had noticed the colour Marinette had gravitated toward. 

Basically the exact opposite of the scarlet satin Alya had shoved in her face and loudly declared as the ‘perfect choice for making a dress to impress Adrien.’. 

“It’s ok Marinette,” Rose beamed, “there’s still time before the dance! I know you’ll finish your design in time!”

She mumbled her agreement. She had no doubt in her mind that Marinette would pull something amazing together in time for the dance. Especially, because she had also noticed the spark in Marinette’s eye when she had seen one bolt of fabric in particular. 

She wouldn’t be surprised if Marinette went back tomorrow with a finished design in hand. 

“So are we getting dinner now?” Alix moaned. She had been complaining about dying of starvation for the past half-hour. She had looked ready to rip her hair out when she had seen the inside of the fabric store, packed with shelves that went almost to the ceiling and were crammed with bolts of fabric. “We’ve been at this all afternoon.” 

“Oh, come on Alix. This is fun! And it’s the last dance of the school year!” Mylène chided. 

“And we only have a couple more shops left to go to! I still need shoes,” Rose chirped. 

“There’s one more fabric store I want to look at. But, it’s still a bit of a trek. So that’ll be our last stop for the day, which means,” she said, cutting off Alix’s groan, “that dinner is the next stop!” 

“We should go to Pierre’s!” Alya said as she glanced down at her phone. 

“But I thought we were going to get kebabs?” Marinette asked, her brows furrowing. 

Her stomach began to sink. The image of Alya furiously typing on her phone throughout the afternoon forced its way to the forefront of her mind. 

Alya was up to something. 

Something fishy. 

“Pierre’s is closer.“

“That works for me.” Alix was already ahead of them, walking so briskly she was basically running. 

“I guess Pierre’s it is,” Mylène sighed before moving to follow Alix. 

She cast a surreptitious look in Alya’s direction. Alya was grinning widely, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. 

 Something fishy indeed. 

She needed to do something. 

But what? 

She wracked her brain, trying to think of any possible way she could send Alya’s scheme off the rails. But she couldn’t think of anything. She glanced around at the rest of the girls. None of them seemed to put out by the change in plans. Alix actually seemed thrilled by them. But that was probably more to due with the fact that she was ‘literally dying of starvation,’ than anything Alya had planned… 

And just what did Alya have in store? Was she going to try and set Marinette and Adrien up to have dinner alone? Or was she going to pull another movie theatre scheme, where Marinette would be forced to sit next to Adrien? It was possible there was another option she wasn’t even thinking of… 

But it didn’t really matter what Alya had planned. 

All that mattered was the timing. 

She glanced down at her phone screen. 

Luka would have just finished his shift a few minutes ago. 

One of the great things about Luka’s job was discount—and sometimes even free—pizza. But what was even better about the pizza place he worked at, was its location…

Queen of Darkness 🦇: hey

Queen of Darkness 🦇: trouble clefts is having a sale on strings

Idiot 🎸: yeah 

Idiot 🎸: i got the email

Queen of Darkness 🦇: can you get some for me?

Idiot 🎸: why can’t you?

Idiot 🎸: you’re literally out shopping

Queen of Darkness 🦇: alix is hangry

Queen of Darkness 🦇: I don’t have a death wish

Queen of Darkness 🦇: plus u owe me

It was true. He did owe her. A lot. And that wasn’t even counting the favour she was currently trying to do for him and Marinette. 

Idiot 🎸: for what?

Idiot 🎸: what are you up to?

Queen of Darkness 🦇: who said Im up to something?

Queen of Darkness 🦇: u going to get me the strings or not?

Queen of Darkness 🦇: I know u need more too

Queen of Darkness 🦇: don’t pretend u don’t

Idiot 🎸: fine

Idiot 🎸: youre always up to something

Queen of Darkness 🦇: just hurry up and get the strings

She bit down on her smile as she slipped her phone back into her pocket.  To get to Trouble Clefts from the pizzeria, Luka would have to pass by Pierre’s. And if he left now… there was no way he would miss them. 

“You coming, bijou?” Rose was looking at her over her shoulder, her hand held out to her. She hurried to catch up the rest of the girls—she had lagged a little behind while texting—and intertwined her fingers with Rose’s. “What were you doing?” Rose asked as they followed the rest of the girls. 

“Oh, nothing. Just checking my email…” she fought back a frown as Alya shot her a suspicious look that was so quick, she almost missed it. A frown of her own began to crease her face. Alya had been… not weird. But something felt… off. Before she could delve further into her thoughts, she was abruptly shaken from them by Rose launching into an animated debate with herself over whether she should wear the sequinned romper or the cat-print dress to the dance. 

The rest of the walk to Pierre’s was filled with idle chatter, mostly about their success so far on their shopping trip and the dance in general. She would say it was uneventful. If not for the fact that she kept catching Alya glancing at her. That wouldn’t have been anything noteworthy, if not for the fact that every time she caught Alya looking, her friend looked away… 

Add in the way she had looked at her in the shoe shop when she had asked for her agreement on finding something that would impress Adrien… 

Her frown fought to return as Alya abruptly looked away for her for what felt like the dozenth time. But it was difficult to keep it at bay. The comment had been a bit too pointed for her liking. And the looks…. 

 She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to overanalyze that. Especially given Alya’s attention had returned to her phone, on which she began furiously typing. She didn’t know what exactly it was that Alya was planning, but she knew that there was no way she was going to let it happen. Whatever it was. She just hoped Luka would get there in time. 

They rounded the last corner and Alya noticeably slowed to an amble. 

She was stalling. 

“C’mon,” Alix groaned from up ahead, halfway between the rest of their group and the doors to Pierre’s. “I’m dying here.” 

“We’re coming,” Alya placated, still moving at a leisurely amble. 

“Not very-“ 

“Hey, babe!” She turned at the sound of Nino’s voice. Nino was standing at the other end of the short street with the rest of the guys from their class in tow. Nino was grinning awkwardly as he waved. “What are you all doing here?” Nino was a great director. And he had a good eye for acting. But he was not an actor himself. His voice was stilted, like he was reading from an invisible script and though his smile was obviously meant to be casual, awkwardness permeated it. 

But Alya just grinned. “We were going to have dinner,” Alya said—much more effortlessly than Nino had said what she imagined were his lines—as she nodded toward the doors to the cafe. 

“Cool,” Adrien said brightly with a sunny smile. “We were all on our way to grab some dinner too!” 

“Really?” Alya called, “Why don’t you join us?” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a thousand emotions flicker across Marinette’s face before it settled into a nervous frown. The rest of the girls were nodding and smiling. Well, Alix wasn’t smiling, she was too hangry for that. Her gaze darted back to the guys. Nino, Adrien, and Kim were already making their way toward them. But she didn’t see-

A flash of blue caught her eye as Ivan shifted to make his way toward Mylène. Luka caught her eye as he ambled toward them, trailing after Max. Lightning quick, his eyes darted to Alya, then back to her before quirking a brow.  

“Luka!” The second Marinette called his name, his face softened and his attention was wholly focused on her. 

“Hey, Marinette,” he said quietly as he shoved his hands in his pockets, coming to a stop in the loose little group they had formed. The idiot was trying so hard to be casual. But he was so obvious—hopefully not to Alya—what with the way he was smiling at Marinette like she was music personified. It was his Marinette smile. “It’s great to see you.” 

Marinette’s smile was bright and wide, but somehow soft at the same time. Her Luka smile. “Luka! What are you-“

“Luka,” she watched as he slowly and deliberately turned to Alya. “What a surprise, what are you doing here?” If she were so inclined, she would have pointed out that it shouldn’t have been anymore of a surprise to see Luka than the rest of the guys given the scheme had obviously been staged to be a ’casual bump in.’    

But now didn’t seem like the time or the place. 

He shrugged. “I was out buying strings and we ran into each other. They were just going to grab dinner and invited me, and you know I never turn down a meal.” 

“What a coincidence,” Alya said lightly through gritted teeth. Alya’s eyes darted to her again, before flashing back to Adrien, then Marinette. “Marinette!” Alya said, suddenly much more brightly. “You had something you wanted to ask Adrien,” Alya said, gripping Marinette’s arm, “didn’t you?”

Shoot. 

What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to stop Alya now? Luka was here! But it wasn’t like she could just tell him to do something. Not now! Not with everyone watching. Kinda. More or less. Everyone was watching Marinette and Adrien. But if she did anything now, that would definitely draw attention to herself. 

Marinette’s eyes went wide; Alya would probably say it was because she had gone off to Adrien-land, but she thought Marinette looked more like a deer in headlights. Her gaze was darting around at all of the expectant faces of their friends. Her hands were wringing the strap of her purse. 

Shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot-

 “Actually, Marinette,” Luka said casually, his gaze flickered to her. Something flashed in his eyes. And just as quickly as his gaze had darted to her, it returned to Marinette, and his entire face softened all over again. “I was going to call you later, but since we’re here now; if you aren’t going to the dance with anyone, maybe I could take you? Or I guess,” he had that lopsided and lovesick grin on his face, “you could take me? Since it’s for your school and all…” 

He had done it. 

He had actually done it. 

He had finally done it. 

Silence overcame their entire group. It suddenly felt like she would be able to hear a pin drop.  

Marinette’s eyes were still wide. But they had suddenly decidedly less ‘cornered wildlife’ quality to them. In fact… they were practically sparkling. And her face was melting into a dreamy smile and she- 

“Yes, I’d- I’d like that Luka. To go to the dance. With you.” 

Yes!

Just as suddenly as it had seemingly disappeared, sound returned to their group. Ivan said something about how it would be nice to have Luka at the dance too, while Kim loudly challenged Luka to a dance off—a challenge she doubted her brother had heard given the look on his face—and Rose was chattering excitedly about how great it would be to have the entire group at the dance. Nino cast an uneasy glance at Alya, which he tried to cover in a cough.

Alya shot a glare at her behind Marinette’s back, and she had to remind herself to stay cool. She offered Alya a tiny shrug and an innocent look. But Alya just narrowed her eyes. 

“Great,” Alya said. If she were gritting her teeth anymore, they would likely shatter. “It’s always nice to go to dances with a friend.” 

Her idiot brother didn’t say anything to disagree; given how dazed he looked —or too far off in dreamland, thinking up music that would go with Marinette’s dress or something—she doubted he had even heard Alya. He probably wouldn’t have noticed if a parade of akumas went by. 

At least Marinette was too busy smiling at her feet to notice. 

Baby steps. 

And she could always give Luka an earful about it later. All that mattered now was-

“Yeah! It’ll be nice to have all my friends there!” Adrien agreed brightly before turning to Marinette. “So what was it you wanted to ask me, Marinette?” 

Marinette jumped almost a foot in the air, the dreamy smile gone from her face. “Oh! I-I-You! Hair! Your hair!”

“My… hair?” 

“I need to buy my dad some more shampoo- he doesn’t like the one he bought- what do you recommend?” 

                                                         ***

She dumped her shopping bags on the floor and flopped onto the sofa, stretching out to take up its entire length. Despite the rocky start, the shopping trip had ended up being successful.  

Very successful. 

“The rest of the shopping trip was a success?” Luka asked as he looked up from his guitar. They had parted ways after dinner; he had still needed to go get the strings for his guitar and her bass, and she and the girls had still had a few shops they had wanted to get to before they closed. “You get a dress?”

She smiled to herself. Between talking with Marinette—and the rest of the gang but really Marinette—and daydreaming, he hadn’t seemed to notice her shopping bags. “Yep.” 

“Cool,” he mumbled as he fiddled with one of the tuning pegs. She watched him as he fiddled with the instrument. Luka was quiet. Not as quiet as her. But still quiet. 

And the opposite of subtle. 

It was obvious he had something on his mind. Or rather… someone, given what had happened outside Pierre’s… he probably had a lot on his mind. 

“Marinette hasn’t gotten her dress yet. In case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t!” The flush in his face betrayed his lie. 

“Sure…” 

“So…” he ducked his gaze and continued to tune the guitar she knew for a fact was already perfectly tuned. “She isn’t making her dress? I know she’s been busy but-“

“We’ll see.”

“She’s going to look amazing…” he sighed wistfully, his dreamy gaze wandering up toward the ceiling. 

“She is,” she murmured in agreement. “And you’re actually going to get to see her in her dress and everything. It’s about time you asked her out,” she said. She smirked his cheeks flushed bright red. He ducked his head to hide it, but she had already seen it. 

“Yeah, well…” he said, drawing out his words. She could hear the smile in his voice. “I would have done it sooner…” 

Her smirk softened into a smile. “I’m glad you finally got to this note in the song,” she said quietly. 

“Me too.” 

 She ribbed him with her elbow, and smiled when he looked up at her again. “You sure were her knight in shining armour back there.”

His cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red. His face was bright enough to rival Ladybug’s suit. “I don’t know about that-“

“You’re right,” she sniggered, “More like her dork in ripped jeans.”

“Jules,” he groaned. “She just seemed put on the spot. She didn’t- Alya isn’t subtle.” She snorted. Truer words had never been spoken. “And… you were right.” If had felt good to hear that the first time. And it sounded just as good the second time. “And I’m tired of stepping back.”

Truth be told, he hadn’t stepped back in a while. Sure, he hadn’t asked Marinette out before today. But the past few weeks he had been there for Marinette. Really, he always had been. And now that she was in a place where she didn’t look like she would crumble at any minute… He had stepped in when she had been put on the spot. And he had asked her out in a way that was, if not impossible, at least difficult to read as completely platonic. Despite Alya’s best efforts. And while he had ended up asking her to the dance in front of everyone—something he wouldn’t have done if the circumstances hadn’t been dire—he had done it in a way that put as little pressure on her as possible. It was typical Luka… “Way to step up.”

“She’s worth it.” She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to have heard that. But she had to agree. 

“So what are you going to wear?”

“What?”

“To the dance.” 

“Oh…” He shrugged. “I guess my good jeans and a nice shirt-“

“You can’t wear jeans!” 

“What? Why not? I always wear jeans to school dances.”

“Because you’re always playing them. But you’re going to this one. And, you’re going with Marinette!” 

“Ok, yeah… maybe I need to rethink that.” She raised a brow and glared at him. “I will definitely not wear jeans,” he amended. 

She nodded, but couldn’t resist the urge to roll her eyes. Just for good measure. Honestly! At least he hadn’t suggested he wear sweatpants. 

                                                         ***

Once Luka had gotten his new strings on his guitar and launched into noodling the sappiest and most lovesick music she had ever heard, she bailed. She had dumped the bags with her dress, gloves, and the laces—she had ended up getting both because a girl could never have too many black lace chokers—into her room and made her escape to the greenhouse with the copy of ‘The Art of War’ she had borrowed from the library in hand.

The air was still warm and the sun hadn’t quite dipped below the horizon yet, but the evening was definitely approaching its meeting with the night. Which mean it was the perfect time to relax in the greenhouse and get some reading in before the group chat for plotting schemes inevitably blew up. 

She had just gotten to the section on adapting to shifting circumstances when her phone pinged. Of course. Just when she was getting to the interesting part… She groaned; she had known this would be coming. But she had hoped it would take Alya at least a little longer to pick up the twins from their friend’s house.  

But it seemed luck wasn’t on her side. 

Which meant Alya was back at it again. 

Alya 🦊?!: NOW WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO???!!!

Alya 🦊?!: NOW ADRIEN THINKS MARINETTE HAS A DATE FOR THE DANCE 

Because she did. 

Because her wonderful, idiot brother hadn’t been an idiot and used the word friend. 

Rose 🌹💗: she does have a date!!! 🥰🥰🥰

Alix 🛼 : u should know

Alix 🛼 : ur head looked like it was gonna pop off when he asked her 🤣🤣🤣

Mylène 🌼 : that’s not very nice alix 

Alix 🛼 : it’s true 

Alix 🛼 : 🤣🤣🤣

Alya 🦊?!: this is SERIOUS 

Alya 🦊?!: HOW WILL ADRIEN AND MARINETTE GET TOGETHER NOW?????? 

It looked like Alya was in a full blown panic. Which wasn’t surprising given her ship was sinking. Fast. And she was floundering for ways to bail herself out.  

Alya 🦊?!: THE DANCE IS OUR LAST SHOT BEFORE THE SUMMER

Mylène 🌼 : why do they have to get together before the summer?

Alix 🛼 : can’t it wait til I’m on vacation?

Alix 🛼 : then I won’t have to see any of the gross mushy stuff

Rose 🌹💗: it isn’t gross!!!!!

Alya 🦊?!: I’m serious guys!! This changes the whole plan!!!

Plan? 

She should have known Alya would have some kind of elaborate plan for the dance, besides getting Adrien to ask Marinette or vice versa. But this was the first time she was hearing about it.   

Alya 🦊?!: @Queen of Darkness what was Luka even doing there??

 Queen of Darkness 🦇: he said he was getting strings

Alya 🦊?!: But y tonight??? Y from that store? Aren’t there others?

 Queen of Darkness 🦇: idk

 Queen of Darkness 🦇: I’m not his babysitter

Just his wrangler 

Alya 🦊?!: But y would he ask her????

Alya 🦊?!: he knows they’re meant to be!!!!

Only because Alya kept telling him that. 

Rose 🌹💗: don’t worry Alya

Rose 🌹💗: we can make a new plan for the dance!!

Alix 🛼 : I still don’t see what the big deal is 

Alya 🦊?!: WHAT DO YOU MEAN????

Alix 🛼 : So what if she has a date?

Alya 🦊?!: ADRIEN CAN’T ASK HER IF SHE ALREADY HAS A DATE!!!!!!

Alix 🛼 : exactly

Alix 🛼 : wasn’t that our plan for the fall formal before Adrien got strep? 

Oh no. 

She had completely forgotten about that scheme. 

That very ill-advised scheme she was glad they hadn’t ended up enacting. 

Mylène 🌼 : so he’s helping her make Adrien jealous?

Rose 🌹💗: we’ve never actually gotten to try making him jealous!! 

Rose 🌹💗: maybe they thought it would work???!!! 

Like Luka or Marinette would ever play mind games like that.  

Alix 🛼 : See? 

Alix 🛼 : they go as friends and make Adrien think its a date to make him jealous 

Alix 🛼 : like I said 

Alix 🛼 : no big deal

Mylène 🌼 : I guess I would also feel pretty left out if I were him too

Mylène 🌼 : since he would have been the only one not going 

Never-mind the fact Luka wasn’t a fan of school dances, he did have his own friends.  

Rose 🌹💗: and we can always make backup plans 

Rose 🌹💗: in case Adrien is too polite to act on his jealousy at the dance 

Rose 🌹💗: we’ll make sure  

Mylène 🌼 : we can meet at my place day after tomorrow 

Rose 🌹💗: we’ll come up with the perfect plan!

Rose 🌹💗: and then Adrien and Marinette will live happily ever after!!!!!

Rose 🌹💗: right girls?

Alix 🛼 : sure

Mylène 🌼 : of course!

Quickly, she typed out her response. It would look odd if she didn’t agree. Of course, she wasn’t going to agree. Not word for word at least.  

 Queen of Darkness 🦇: everything will work out 

She would make sure of it. 

Dots appeared, indicating Alya was typing. But they kept disappearing and then reappearing. Until finally…

Alya 🦊?!: K

What was all that about? It wouldn’t have taken Alya that long, or that many tries to just type that response. And it was too blunt. Too curt. 

It was suspicious was what it was…

She frowned at the screen. Waiting for Alya to say… well, something. But there were no more dots on the screen. After another fruitless minute of waiting, she tucked her phone back in her pocket and flipped back to the page she had been reading when she was interrupted. 

But she couldn’t concentrate on the words. All those little looks and glances…the comments… and now Alya’s curt response to her—sure, it had been sent to the group chat, and maybe she was reading into it too much, but it felt like it was directed at her—they were niggling at her brain. 

She didn’t like it. 

Any of it. 

A shadow passed over her head, and she was immediately on her feet, her book brandished like a weapon as she dropped into a fighting stance. You could never been too careful in a Shadowmoth infested Paris. 

The figure who had cast the shadow dropped to the the deck in front of her. 

“Ladybug?“ she asked as she straightened up. 

Ladybug nodded and smiled. 

“Is it an akuma…?” She had told Marinette to ask her—well, her ‘coworker’—for help. But she hadn’t expected her tonight. Given the look on Marinette’s face when Luka had asked her to the dance, she would have assumed Marinette was going to spend the whole night designing her dress for the- unless there was trouble which meant- but Ladybug didn’t seem to be in a rush. There was no aura of urgency in the air around her. But there was an embarrassed little smile in her face, and a dreamy look in her eyes coupled with the spark that was always there when she thought up a new design… 

“No, no!” Ladybug waved her hands as if to calm and placate. ”No akumas or sentimonsters.”  Ladybug bit her lip, flushing as she wrung her hands. Knowing Marinette was Ladybug was one thing, but it was so weird to see Marinette’s bashfulness on Ladybug. “I want to preface this by saying it’s no pressure and you can absolutely say no. But, I have a favour to ask you.”

#juleka vs. the forces of the universe #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #pro lukamari #juleka couffaine #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #rose lavillant #alix kubdel #mylene haprele #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #miracuclass #alya salt #girl squad salt #adrien salt

[thorfemmes]

Hiiii! Im here cause i am enabled ! 😈 This one of the many ask i will be sending xD so how about eddie with a pluz size new girl ( i love this trope) who seems to be unfazed about yhe rumor and tried to be friend him cause after she saw how the others treat eddie she decided theyre jerks and decided she would be friends with the hellfire club and eddie cause theyre nice. She comes befriending them looking all cutesie and preppy then the next day she comes to them all decked out in goth/punk outfit. She has a wide range of aesthetic and doesnt care what people say ( at least she wont let them see it gets to her sometimes) i hope this is ok

hi! thank you for the ask<3 I can't sleep so you get this little blurb while I'm on vacation lmao

I hope you enjoy!

"And this is the cafeteria!" said the perky student council member, Kathleen.

You had just transferred to Hawkins High in the middle of the Fall semester. A long way away from home, you were a bit nervous to be starting fresh, but Kathleen -the student council member that had been assigned to help you find your way around and has been softening the stressful blow of your first day.

"Most of us have unassigned assigned seats, but you can sit wherever you'd like. You're more than wel-".

Shouts and laughter from across the room interrupted Kathleen. You followed the sound and landed on a small sea of black and white t-shirts and lots of hair. You watched in curiosity as a young man with a long mane dramatically relayed something to the rest of his group.

Kathleen looked on in disgust. "Don't mind them, that's just the freak table. As I was saying, you're more than welcome to come sit with me and my friends. We're very open to new people, promise!" And with that she left to her table.

The so-called "freak" table held your attention as you grabbed your lunch tray and waited in line. You were so distracted that you accidentally bumped into the boy in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you slowly made your way across the cafeteria to the freak table.

Hugging your tray close, you slowly approached the table. "Hi, I'm Y/N, would it be okay if I sat here?"

The entire table fell silent, gawking at you as if you had two heads.

"I promise I'm friendly!" You started. "I just thought you guys looked kind of cool. Fuck the "freak" label, right?" You cringed inwardly at the use of the word.

The longhaired boy finally broke the silence, clearing his throat and standing up and shooing a curly haired boy away to make room next to him. "Of course, m'lady," He bowed with a flourish.

You let out a small huff of laughter, setting your tray down and adjusting your skirt before sitting down.

"I'm Eddie, pleased to make your acquaintance". He went around the table introducing everyone. "So, what's a pink princess like yourself sitting over here with us? I'm sure the preppy counsel member warned you about us".

"I don't normally listen to rumors. And besides, your table looked the most entertaining by far. The cafeteria here is kinda dead without the ruckus you've caused".

Eddie grinned back at you.

From then on you held a permanent spot at the Hellfire table, your bright colored clothes a stark change from the darker clothes worn by the boys. Of course, your presence at the table placed a target on your back. Jocks and preps alike had approached you more than once to try and sway you away from the Hellfire Club before giving up and turning their backs on you. They hurled insults and threw wadded up balls of paper at you like the rest of the club, but it never deterred you. The boys at the table were nice and incredibly welcoming. Especially Eddie. The boy had gone out of his way to make you feel welcomed, escorting you to classes (even when he planned on skipping that period), hanging out with you after school on days he didn't have a campaign to run, and even split his lunch with you -often trading your carton of milk for whatever cheap brand of cookies he bought that day (you insisted it wasn't a fair trade, he insisted he didn't care). Everything was calm and peaceful until one day when you decided to shake it up a bit.

You had a wide range of clothes, who didn't? Anyone who stuck to one specific look was kinda boring in your opinion. So when you came into school wearing a pair of ripped black jeans, a well loved band tee, and a pair of Doc Martin boots heads turned at the speed of light. A stark change from your normal pinks, yellows, and blues, you felt confident until one of the jocks -Jason, was it? -stepped up to you at your locker.

"Did the freaks finally get to you, Y/N? You used to look like such a good girl, what happened?"

You scoffed. "You know, people can wear whatever clothes they want without it meaning anything. And don't talk about my friends like that, they're not freaks".

He took a step closer to you, all but cornering you into the corner where your locker was. "And what are you planning on doing about it, freak?" He spat. "Run and cry to the other losers in your little club? Fucking creeps".

Before you could respond a heavy hand landed on Jason's shoulder, making the boy flinch.

"Is there a problem here?" Eddie asked gruffly.

"Not at all freak, just having a friendly conversation with our Y/N here".

You looked at Eddie who looked ready to pounce at your command. "It's not worth it Eds, just let it go".

"Yeah, listen to your little bitch, it's not worth it," Jason grinned, knowing he was riling the other boy up.

Eddie shoved Jason into a locker. "Hey! Watch your fucking mouth Jason". He caught the stare of a teacher who began walking over to the small tiff. "You're lucky Mrs. Leoda is coming over, otherwise you'd have been toast, Jason". Eddie gave him one final shove before grabbing your hand and dragging you away from the corner you had found yourself in.

Turning down an empty hall, Eddie let his eyes greedily linger over you. Your tight t-shirt and black fishnets underneath had his mouth watering.

"You look amazing, doll".

You felt your face warm. "Thanks Eds. Figured I'd switch it up a bit, yeah?"

He let out a small laugh. "Well, switch it up a bit more. You'll have me chasing after you like a little school boy".

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x plus size reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #writing #ask

[kk095]

Road Trip

*good evening everyone! Here's a new story of mine! I also have another story on deck that I should be posting in the near future. Hope you enjoy this one!*

I can’t believe the situation I’m in right now. My girlfriend and I were on a road trip heading to the mountains for a nice, quiet, relaxing trip. Now I’m in a hospital bed in who knows where with a concussion, had my spleen removed, and some bumps and scrapes, while my girlfriend is under a sheet in the hospital morgue. I’m still trying to process everything that’s happened in the past day or two, but I have a lot to get off my chest. But before I tell you how we got here, I want to tell you about my girlfriend. I want you guys to remember her the same way I did, and not by how she died.

Her name was Chloe. She was a few years younger than me. And for reference, I’m 26 and she was 24. Chloe was a cute Asian girl, whose dad is a Vietnamese immigrant, and mother is a Chinese immigrant. She had dark, pin straight, shoulder length hair, chocolate brown eyes, and had a short, petite build. She had a nasal septum piercing, a colorful tattoo sleeve on her left arm, and wore black lipstick a lot, which drove her uptight, traditional parents crazy. They always asked her why she couldn’t be like her older brother Michael who’s a successful programming manager for Microsoft out west in Seattle, which made her feel bad.

But Chloe differed from the rest of her immediate family. Compared to her family’s uptight, traditional ways, she was more open minded, laid back, and had a go with the flow type of demeanor about her. Her older brother Michael was very ambitious and goal oriented while Chloe wanted to pursue her passions and work to live, rather then live to work. She went to college for music, but ultimately dropped out in her 2nd semester, much to her family’s disapproval. Chloe was a bass player and loved focusing on writing music, playing with her bandmates, and worked only to provide money for her passion.

And that’s how her and I met, through work. We both worked at the same hotel together, just in different departments. I work as a maintenance supervisor, while she worked at the front desk. I remember the first time I met her. I was called up to the front desk to take a look at some dripping that came from a vent. I was able to get to the bottom of the issue real quick- it was just a clogged up condensate line in the HVAC vent (something that takes 5 minutes to fix, but most HVAC repair men will have the audacity to charge you $300 bucks for. But I digress!). After I cleared that up, I asked one of my buddies at the front desk who the hot new girl was, to which he told me “yeah, that’s Claire!”, which became a bit of an inside joke between Chloe and I later on.

I started spending more time at the front desk and BSing with her, and found out her an I had a lot in common. As I mentioned, she was a bass player, while I play guitar. It turned out we were both metal heads, she liked pokemon (even had Squirtle as part of her tattoo sleeve) and complemented my Lego collection- probably the only girl in the history of the universe to do so. After we got to know each other a bit, I got her number and asked her out. And let me tell ya, I was very nervous about that first date!

The first date was at this Mexican place she wanted to go to. We got a little tipsy off some margaritas and just talked for hours, eventually losing track of time. The manager of the restaurant actually tapped me on the shoulder and told me they were closing in 20 minutes. But that’s how it should be- 5 hours felt like 5 minutes with her, and I enjoyed it very much! That first date was two and a half years ago, and everything was great in the relationship department from there on.

I felt very content and happy with my relationship with Chloe, and bought a ring, planning to propose to her on this trip, under the guise of it just being a little weekend getaway.

The hotel we were staying at was about 6 and a half hours away, so it was a manageable distance. The two of us got ready that morning and got in some comfy clothes for the car ride. She was wearing her purple pullover hoodie, some black sweats, and her go-to black and white checkered Vans. Even though she was in those baggy, comfy clothes, she still looked cute as always.

I agreed to do the driving there. I was a little tired however! I had to stay at work late the night before because a pain in the ass guest absolutely trashed a room and we had to fix all sorts of stuff. Just an FYI before we continue- if you’re unhappy with your room assignment at a hotel, just leave a bad review or something. Don’t trash the room. Someone has to fix that!

Even though I was tired from my overtime the night before, I decided to do the driving in my car. At first, we were making good time. But around the trip’s halfway point, we started to hit some traffic on the interstate. Chloe and I decided to get off at the next exit and grab a bite to eat, hit the bathroom, and gas up, hoping traffic would dissipate in a little while. We ultimately grabbed breakfast at a small diner, hit the bathroom, and went to the gas station next door to refuel. While I was pumping gas, I was yawning and felt a little tired. Chloe looked up at me and said “hey babe, why don’t I do the driving? You had a long night, you deserve a nap.” She was always sweet like that, but I replied “oh it’s ok hun, I can make it there. I’ll just crash and burn tonight when we get to the room.” Chloe then hopped over from the passenger seat and over to the driver’s seat. “too late mister! Go take a nap!” She said playfully. I laughed a little and told her “hey, I appreciate it. But you don’t have to drive.” Chloe then said “just take a nap babe! I pinky promise I’ll get us there alive.” I ultimately capitulated and thought “yeah, ya know, a nap sounds good!”

After I finished gassing up and paying an arm and a leg, I hopped in the passenger seat, get under Chloe’s baby Yoda blanket, and reclined the seat back. Once we got back on the interstate, all it took was a little highway hypnosis to knock me out. The next thing I remember is totally different. I hear Chloe scream, I heard the brakes screech, and I was thrown forward a bit, waking me right up from my nap. A large 18 wheeler truck had cut us off while changing lanes. Chloe didn’t have much time to react, and she slammed into the back bumper of the truck at a high rate of speed. I felt the lap portion of the seatbelt tighten up over my belly, feeling a tremendous amount of pressure and pain over my abdomen. My head whipped around a bit, making me feel dizzy for a few seconds. Once I regained my mental faculties, I looked over at the passenger seat to see how Chloe was doing.

Chloe was crying hysterically, and had a few cuts and scrapes on her face. I grab her right hand and ask “hey hun, you ok? What happened?” Chloe continued crying hysterically and hyperventilating a bit. “its ok baby, calm down. It’s gonna be ok!” I tell her, trying to be reassuring. “the truck… it cut me off. I didn’t have time!” she cried out to me. “he didn’t signal! I didn’t know babe, I’m sorry!” she continued, tears streaming down her face. “chloe, hun, I’m not mad at you. Are you ok?” I tell her, squeezing her hand, trying to be reassuring. “my chest… my chest hit the steering wheel!” she cried and moaned. She went on to tell me her chest hit the steering wheel hard, then was thrown back half a second later when the airbag deployed. “I got ya baby girl. Does your chest hurt?” I asked her, concerned. “yes… it hurts when I breathe… something doesn’t feel right…” she cried out, shaking her head. “alright. I’m sure help is on the way. We’re gonna be ok. We’re gonna get through this, ok?” I tell her, making eye contact with her. She nodded at me a few times, still crying and hyperventilating.

We were pinned in my car and the doors wouldn’t open. Chloe was pulling on the door handle repeatedly while crying “I don’t wanna die in here.” I placed my hand over hers and told her “nobody’s dying Chloe. We’re gonna get out of this.” She held my hand tight and said “Kenny, I’m so scared….”

I could hear sirens off in the distance, but it appeared our accident created another traffic jam. Minutes went by and it didn’t sound like the sirens were getting any closer. I’m guessing the emergency vehicles had trouble getting through the traffic jam. Several more minutes went by, which felt like hours to the two of us. “is anybody coming for us?!” Chloe shouted. “they’re coming babe. Everything’s gonna be ok!” I tell her, trying to console her again.

Finally, we see a female police officer approach the vehicle on the driver’s side. Chloe taps on the window “HEY! HELP US!”, she shouted. The officer approached the vehicle and got on her radio “hey, I have 2 occupants in vehicle 1. Female restrained driver, male restrained passenger. Both awake and alert. Gonna need the jaws of life. Driver’s side door is crunched up.” “10-4, ambo and fire are almost there.” A male voice on the radio said in response. “see Chloe, they’re here. We’re gonna be ok.” I tell her, feeling a bit relieved help was beginning to arrive.

In the next couple of minutes, more and more emergency vehicles and personnel started to surround us. The fire department began setting up their equipment, and started the extraction process within a few minutes. A loud, mechanical crunching sound surrounded Chloe and I. I could barely hear myself think, but I still had a sense of relief since the first responders were there.

Finally, the door was ripped off, and a few medics ran over to Chloe and began tending to her. They placed a c collar on her, got her on a backboard, and brought her over to a nearby ambulance to begin examining her. A second set of medics did the exact same thing with me. While being pulled out of the vehicle, I could see the medics cutting off Chloe’s purple hoodie, placing EKG leads on her chest, setting up some IVs, and making more of a commotion over her than me. “Chloe?! You ok hun?!” I shouted over, to which I received no response. “hey buddy, stay calm for us. Your girlfriend is in good hands, alright?” a medic told me in a calm tone. They did the same thing with me. They took my shirt off and started setting up a wide range of equipment. “large bruise upper left quadrant. Vitals stable, but they may wanna take a look at that in the ED.” I overheard my medic say to their partner. They shined a pen light in my eye shortly after. “pupils are reactive, but slight delay. Might be a concussion. Let’s get him prepped for transport. The two of them are getting taken to County.” I overheard my medics say.

A little bit of this, a little bit of that, and the ambulance doors slammed shut, and I was on my way. The whole way over, all I could think about was Chloe. She was absolutely terrified, and I just wanted her to be ok. If there was anything serious going on, I would’ve rather it happened to me than her. I looked out the back windows of the ambulance and saw another ambulance right behind us- I knew it was hers. “Please… I hope she’s ok in there.” I thought to myself, watching her ambulance speed down the highway along with mine. I was a nervous wreck on Chloe’s behalf for the rest of the ambulance ride, but I was personally doing ok all things considered.

I remember the ambulance pulling into the hospital’s entrance and pulling towards an entry door. The ambulance came to a stop, and back doors popped open. I could see two sets of people wearing yellow trauma gowns, one group by my ambulance and the other group over near Chloe’s ambulance as it pulled in. “26 year old male, restrained passenger, high speed mvc. Upper left quadrant bruising with guarding and rigidity, possible concussion. Vitals stable. Set up an IV, only gave him a little NS. Refused pain meds.” My medic told my group of people in yellow trauma gowns. I heard a female voice say “thank you, get him to trauma one. The girl in trauma two. Let’s go everyone.”

I was wheeled into the hospital, brought into a trauma room, and moved onto a table. They sat me in an upright position on the table since I was relatively stable and began asking me questions. While I was being asked questions, I heard Chloe crying while being wheeled into the exam room right next to me. “female, 24, restrained driver high speed mvc. Patient is tachy, hypotensive, diminished breath sounds on the left side, muffled heart sounds. Started fluid resuscitation and gave pain meds.” A medic told the group of yellow gowned individuals in the next room. “alright. Transfer her on my count. One… two… THREE!” one of the doctors said, while the whole team moved her onto a table, underneath a large over head light. “chloe? Is that you?!” I shouted, trying to get her attention. “kenny?! It’s me! Is that you Kenny?!” I heard Chloe say. She was on the table in a c-collar and head stabilizer, stripped down to her black sports bra and matching underwear. Her complexion had faded a bit, becoming a few shades paler, and I could see some redness and bruising on her chest, probably from where her chest hit the steering wheel.

“Sir? Look at us, ok? We’ve got some questions for ya!” A nurse said to me. I paused for a second and looked back over, replying “yeah… yeah, of course.” The nurse was holding a clipboard, then asked me “ok! Do you have any drug allergies?” I replied “yeah, just penicillin. It gave hives this one time when I was a kid…” The nurse jotted some stuff down. “ok… do you have any prior medical history? Any history of surgeries?” she asked me. “oh no, nothing I can think of. Never had surgery either.” I replied. She jotted some more stuff down on her clip board, then continued her questions. “can you tell me where it hurts for me?” she continued. “my belly. Over where the seatbelt tightened up. I’m a little dizzy too, but that’s it.” I said to her. “ok, abdominal pain…” the nurse repeated back, thinking out loud. While that was going on, I heard a blood curdling yelp come from next door- a sound I never heard from Chloe before, and one that I’ll always remember. “chest tube’s in, vitals still dropping.” I heard a voice say in Chloe’s room. “what was that? Is she ok?!” I shouted, popping up a bit, trying to get a better view of the room Chloe was in. “whoa whoa whoa, sit back and relax mister. We have to focus on you.” Another nurse said, gently forcing me back into my previous position. I could hear Chloe cry next door. “please… I don’t wanna die…” I heard her cry out, practically begging the doctors and nurses in her room.

While the team in Chloe’s room was running around like chickens with their heads cut off, my team was doing things at a more relaxed pace. The nurses were setting up an ultrasound machine to take a look at what was going on in my belly from the seatbelt injury. While that was going on, I asked “is Chloe gonna be ok? Can someone tell me what’s going on?” One of the nurses replied “we’ll let you know a little later. We assure you, the best doctors in the hospital are taking care of her.” I didn’t have much of a response. They didn’t want to tell me, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was very nervous about how she was doing. Everyone seemed more concerned about her than they did with me, so I knew it had to be something more serious.

I heard plenty of commotion next door over the next couple minutes. While that was going on, my ER team squirted cool, conductive ultrasound gel on my belly. An ultrasound wand was put on my belly and spread the gel around a bit. Then the wand was moved over the area that was bothering me most. I winced in pain, feeling a lot of tenderness while the wand was over the affected area. “splenic lac, but minimal blood loss. His vitals are stable, let’s get a surgical consult and see what they say about this.” One of my doctors said. Just after they said that, I heard “vitals still dropping. Get me an intubation tray! 7.0 ET and a laryngoscope!” At that point, I didn’t hear Chloe crying, moaning, or talking anymore. I looked over and saw Chloe asleep on the table while they were maneuvering a plastic breathing tube down her throat. “trachea might be deviated Cricoid pressure please.” A voice shouted. I saw one person place a few fingers on the front of my girl’s neck, while the breathing tube was finally placed properly. The tube was held in place with some tape, and a light blue ambu bag was attached. “Alrighty, breath sounds present.” One of the nurses next door said, with a stethoscope up against Chloe’s bare chest.

Suddenly, Chloe’s breathing tube became clogged up with a large amount of blood. The heart monitors started chirping and beeping loudly. “suction!” I heard a nurse shout. “no pulse, starting compressions!” another nurse said. One nurse was suctioning out Chloe’s breathing tube while another started delivered deep, violent chest compressions. Chloe’s petite, skinny chest caved in and her belly bounced out from the residual force of the compressions. Her head bobbed and lolled while they tried to suction out the blood from her breathing tube, creating a moving target. A liquidy, slurping sound was heard while the nurse pumped away at my baby girl’s chest. “oh god… come on Chloe…” I thought to myself while watching. “meds are in!” one nurse said after injecting something into Chloe’s IV.

Chloe’s breathing tube was cleared of blood and the ET tube was reattached. But I could see that her pearly white teeth were now stained red with blood. “charging to 250.” A doctor shouted, while an electrical whirring sound was heard. The defibrillator paddles were then pressed up against Chloe’s chest, and a shock was delivered. I watched in horror as my girlfriend’s body jolted so violently on the table next door. “no change, resuming compressions.” A nurse replied, who started pumping her chest a second later. The defib paddles were charged to 300 joules this time, pressed up against her chest, and the next shock was delivered. The same violent, thrashing motion was seen, but Chloe’s eyes opened slightly. But her eyes were completely dull and lifeless, staring up above at the ceiling. Her eyes remained open from then on out. When the resumed CPR, I saw her head bobbing again, with her eyes half open eyes blankly staring off. The next shock took place shortly after a cycle of chest compressions. This time, I saw her feet kick up on the other end of the table and slam back down. When her feet slammed back down, I could see all the deep, soft, silky, prominent wrinkles that permeated the soles of her tiny size 5 feet. I lucked out in that department- Chloe had pretty feet and could’ve made a gazillion dollars on only fans with her cute wrinkly soles if she ever wanted to.

After the third shock, I heard a doctor shout “ok. Get me a thoracotomy tray !” A what? A thoracotomy? What’s that? What’re they gonna do to my girl?!, I thought to myself, my mind beginning to race. Let me tell you, you definitely don’t want to see your girlfriend get a thoracotomy done on them. They made a big cut in her chest. It started at her sternum, they extended it across the left side of her chest, underneath her left nipple, and all the way out near her left armpit. They then cut apart the tissue and fat below her skin. Then they placed a big metal thing inside the cut, and started turning some knobs. I heard a loud cracking and popping sound, and saw her chest become more and more open. After turning those knobs a couple more times, I could see Chloe’s heart in plain sight. But it wasn’t beating, it looked more like it was kind of twitching or fidgeting. The doctors and nurses placed a few things in Chloe’s chest, and then I started to see blood come out of the big cut in her chest, which pooled on the right side of her chest and dripped down to her belly a little. “jesus… what a mess… suction please!” I heard a doctor say. I don’t know what they were looking at, but they didn’t like what they saw. I heard some commotion over the next minute or two, but I’m not sure what that they were doing. All I heard was something about internal compressions.

“Ok, charge the internal paddles to 20.” I heard the doctor say. I heard the same electric whirring sound as the defibrillator paddles, but these defibrillator paddles looked differed. They were these long, skinny things that looked kind of like a giant serving spoon. The placed the spoon part of the paddles around each side of Chloe’s twitching, fidgeting heart, and they delivered a shock. This shock sounded differed. It had a dull, wet, muffled type of sound. I saw Chloe’s torso twitch around in response. “no pulse, v-fib on the monitors.” I heard a voice say after that shock. The large spoon looking objects were recharged to a higher intensity, placed back into her exposed chest cavity, and another shock was delivered. I heard that same dull, wet ka-thunk like with the first one. On the other end of the table, I saw Chloe’s toes curl, showing of her fresh, jet black nail polish and her wrinkly soles that I droned on about earlier.

After I see them reach back into her chest and do who knows what, I’m interrupted by the surgeon who was summoned by my team earlier. The surgeon took a look at my ultrasound, and even though my spleen injury was relatively stable, the surgeon felt the best move was to remove it. The reason is that the injury could potentially get worse without treatment, and they’d have to remove it anyway at that point. I then agree to do surgery, they make me sign a paper, and I can hear my team making calls to the operating room in regards to my upcoming surgery. My team was injecting some stuff in my IV, going over my vital signs, and trying to coordinate with the operating room. After a few minutes of commotion, I’m finally able to look back over at Chloe and see what’s going on.

I heard another dull, wet, KATHUMP, followed by a droning high pitched sound. “that’s it, she’s gone. Time of death, 11:57am.” Wait, what?! Did I just hear what I thought I heard?! “hey, what happened?! Is Chloe ok?!” I shout to my ER team as they start wheeling me out of the ER room and over to an elevator. I start getting ready eyed, with a lump in my throat: “did Chloe die?!” I asked, almost pleading with the doctors and nurses to tell me something. I saw them look at each other, not sure of what to say. “we’re not sure, you’ll find out after your surgery.” I was told. I kept bugging my doctors and nurses to tell me anything they could, and they wouldn’t. Eventually, it was time for my surgery, and that was that.

I woke up several hours later in the room I’m in now. My belly with all sorts of stitches and staples in it- I could probably set off a metal detector with all these metal staples. I felt a little groggy, my mouth was dry, and I was terribly thirsty. I felt a little sore, but it was certainly tolerable. A little while after I awoke, a doctor came in my room. It was a familiar face- one of the yellow gowned individuals in Chloe’s room. “hey! You worked on Chloe! What happened?!” I asked anxiously. The woman sighed, looked down at the floor for a second and grabbed a seat in the room. “so Chloe was hurt very bad in that accident. She had a collapsed lung, and one of her ribs broke off and sliced into her heart…” they told me. “oh jeez. What happened after they took me away? Is she dead?!” I asked, teary eyed. The doctor paused, then said “these type of injuries are usually quite severe. This caused Chloe’s heart to stop beating. We did cpr, we opened her chest, and did everything we could, but her heart just wouldn’t restart for us. I’m sorry, but she passed away in our ER.” I was shocked. I was completely consumed with all sorts of emotions I never felt before, and hope I never feel again. I let out a wail, and began crying like a little baby. What was supposed to be the best day of my life turned into the worst day of my life. I was hoping to propose to Chloe, and now I find out she’s dead. I also began to feel guilty. “Why did I have to plan this stupid trip?!” “why couldn’t I drive the rest of the way?!” “we should’ve waited a little longer at the gas station!” were some of the thoughts consuming my mind.

I don’t know the end result of all this yet. I’m still gonna be in the hospital a few more days myself. I know the ER people reached out to both my family and Chloe’s family, but I have no clue when anyone’s gonna get here. Regardless of what’s to come, I’m glad you all listened and let me ramble a bit and talk this over. I hope you’re all having a much better day than me.

[questionsquartzquiet]

January Goal Update

1. Whole Food 80/20: this one was definitely a hard start. January was very busy at the beginning and my routine was constantly thrown off. But I started getting acid reflux symptoms again and so honestly eating healthy and whole food has become a necessity more than a choice so I don’t get terrible nausea all day

2. Hygiene: I’ve been enjoying this goal. My hair is looking healthier after I got back on track with taking care of it and also figuring out what products work the best. I found a sale on makeup products so I’ve been enjoying doing my makeup on school days. I bought a new fragrance that’s more my style. And my skin has been clearing up.

3. Flashcards: I’m about halfway there with this one. I have been reviewing content, but it’s difficult when I’m also trying to learn new content. I have some amazing study decks on ECG’s and drugs right now.

4. Language Learning: I have been keeping up with Duolingo, and my friend sent me a music playlist full of slow Spanish songs. But I’m always so tired when I come home, it’s hard to speak Spanish with my husband. I have been occasionally talking to my suegra in Spanish though.

5. Study Whole Heartedly: Right now I am in my “thirst for knowledge” phase of the semester. I’m rested from my break and I’m amazed I have the opportunity to learn medicine. But I’ve learned in med school that you can’t delve down every rabbit hole, especially your first year. Looking up every syndrome you come across and spending time memorizing it will fill you brain up with the little details before you grasp the big picture stuff that you need your first year. I’m working on striking a balance between the two so I can continue feeding my curiosity while allocating the right amount of time to my coursework and keep myself from burning out.

6. Climbing: This has been a bit of a bust. Beginning of January I was climbing or hiking every day until my knees started hurting and I didn’t rest like I should have. But now I’ve had to take about a week off of hiking and almost two weeks off of climbing. But today I’m going to try again and see how my body feels. We still have another 11 days of the month

7. Meditation: I haven’t kept to meditating or yoga recently. Yoga was also painful with my knees and I don’t like sitting out on too many positions so I made a habit of doing yoga poses at home. I do feel I’ve been more mindful lately and overall I’ve been able to keep my stress and preoccupied tendencies down.

8. Reading: I’ve gotten out of the habit of reading when school started (now I read textbooks before bed) so I think 3 books is a high expectation. I think I can read 2.

#self improvement #growth #self healing #mindset #journal #self love #studyblr #that girl #med student #achieve your goals #2024 goals #goal setting #medical school #medblr

[sammysvanfeet]

Boston Calling || Jake Kiszka x Reader PREQUEL

Synopsis: Y/N and Jake meet in their Sound Engineering class. Y/N comes from a prestigious family and Jake has to scrounge his way through life. Their immediate competition causes conflict between the two. Will their love for music surpass their hatred for each other?

TW: Cursing, allusion to sex, Jake being an asshole ❤️‍🩹

Prequel POV is in Jake's perspective but the rest of the fic will be in Y/N's perspective.

Chapter 1

The desolate room slowly began to house more and more bodies as people discreetly trickled inside. All were walking methodically, careful not to make any noise, too conscious of their surroundings and the early morning hours. Sleep deprivation was evident on their faces and their cheeks were rosy from the blistering cold that inhabited Boston.

The last one to enter the classroom was a lanky middle aged fellow in a pair of slacks and a checkered button down, decked in a tweed coat with elbow patches. His unkempt salt and pepper hair stuck out in various places while a pair of thick black glasses rested on his crooked nose. He walked across the green carpet to the grand desk in the front of the room before haphazardly placing his saddlebag on the table and writing his title on the stained whiteboard behind him in pink expo marker, “Professor Wilson, Sound Engineering 145”.

I wrung my hands in anticipation, I didn’t want to let it show too much but I was jumping out of my skin. Finally I could start studying music! My fall semester satisfied little to none of the requirements needed for a music degree and mainly consisted of general education classes… all of them were such a bore but for the first time since university began, I felt a sense of purpose and hopefulness for my vocation.

“Good morning class, as you can see I am Professor Wilson and this is Sound Engineering 145. I’m hoping most of you are pursuing a degree in Music, because if not then you’re in the wrong place.” Polite chuckles echoed off of the walls in the room. Professor Wilson cleared his throat before continuing, “I am delighted to announce that we have a very special student joining our class this semester, Y/N L/N…”

My eyes immediately darted to the girl Professor Wilson gestured to in the very front row of the class, she smiled and gave a small wave to everyone in the room. I immediately shifted my gaze back to the Professor in burning curiosity as I struggled to understand what was so unique about her.

“…Y/N’s mother is one of the most noted and recognized producers in the music industry, and has won several Grammys for her work with Adele, The Growlers, Arctic Monkeys, and many more talented artists! She’s even done work on Paul McCartney’s latest record and has written multiple papers and reviews on some of the most popular albums in music history!”

Slack-jawed and wide-eyed, I stared at the girl in the front of the room. Her arms were resting on the desk folded across one another, she was smiling ever so proudly as though her mother’s accomplishments were that of her own. The class seemed overwhelmingly elated by her presence… all except for me.

“Ha… a nepotism baby, of course.” I scoffed under my breath, earning a strange look from the girl seated next to me.

The disgust I felt was palpable, here Y/N L/N was competing with students who had no connections to the music industry like she doesn’t have a plethora of opportunities lined up outside her door! I exhaled deeply and resumed looking at Professor Wilson at the front of the room, a scowl across my face. Safe to say I was fucking ticked off by her being here. I couldn’t help but stare at her yet again, her glowy eyes and barely there smirk was proof enough to me of her ego complex. Glaring daggers at her side profile, she turned to look precisely in my direction, her eyes meeting mine intensely. Her lips turned into a soft smile as she waved a few fingers inconspicuously, greeting me. I felt a sudden swell of irritation and fought to keep myself from rolling my eyes at her obliviousness and naivety. My inner thoughts couldn’t help but mock her, who did she think she was? A virtuoso who joined a private college to tear apart her peers because she knew damn well she was unbeatable competition? Her affiliation to her mother alone was enough to earn her a seat at the table, regardless of her musical talent and skills. It aggravated me even more when she continuously answered the professor’s introductory questions on the subject as class progressed. My mood had infinitely soured over the course of what was supposed to be my favorite class of the day and while I paid a majority of my attention to the lecture I couldn’t help but think about Y/N and feel envious of her position.

✦✦✦

The wind had a bite to it as I rushed across campus to the one and only coffee shop in a five mile radius. I busted my ass at that job to put myself through school, music degrees at private institutions were expensive, and I wouldn’t let my financial status deter me from pursuing my passion. The bell above the door chimed, signaling my arrival to my colleagues.

“Man, Jake… you look like you’ve seen better days.” My coworker; Danny, chided.

“Shut up, dude” I said, cracking a grin, “I just encountered the most infuriating person in my Sound Engineering class. Her fucking mother is some hot-shot music producer and probably bribed her daughter’s way into this school.” I scoffed as I haphazardly tied my apron around my waist.

“As much as I’d love to sit around and hear you bitch about a girl you will inevitably fuck… we have customers to attend to.”

Before I could voice how revolting that idea was to me, the sound of someone entering the cafe captured my attention. Of course. There she was in all of her insufferable glory… Y/N. I briefly questioned what terrible thing I could have done to be punished with her presence for a second time today. I recognized her long black coat that she donned in class, but this time she had a baby blue scarf wrapped around her neck which seemed to make her eyes even brighter than they already were. Her hair neatly framed her face, a piece briefly fell past her bow and onto her cheek until she effortlessly tucked it behind her ear. She looked rich… and I hated her for it. I softly cursed under my breath as she made her way up to the bartop and chirped hello.

I didn’t want my interaction with her to persist for much longer than necessary so I monotonously echoed the same question I ask to every customer I encounter, “What can I get ya today?”

I didn’t meet her eyes, but rather stared at the kiosk machine in front of me. When she didn’t answer right away I looked back up at her expectantly to see her perusing the menu tacked on the wall behind me. I shouldn’t have been annoyed with her, after all she was just reading the menu, but that did little to stop me from sighing disapprovingly.

She looked back at me after a few seconds before smiling as she said, “I’ll have the vanilla oat milk latte and a croissant please.”

I tapped her order into the computer before printing out her receipt, handing it to her in a swift motion. She didn’t seem to acknowledge my irritation, or if she did, she didn’t let herself show it.

“Hey, you’re in my sound engineering class aren't you? I saw you on the other side of the room!” Surprise was apparent in her voice as she spoke to me.

I pretended as if I didn’t recall her.

“Is that so? I don’t remember seeing you.” I lied.

“Really?” she questioned, shock evident on her face, her left eyebrow quirking just a tad higher.

“Professor Wilson was talking about me and my mom for a solid five minutes, pretty sure he’s obsessed with her or something.” she mused, giggling slightly at our professor’s obvious infatuation. I tried to hide the scoff that came out of me at her blatant pretentiousness.

“Well not everything revolves around you or whoever your mother is, you know?” I quipped back, sarcasm laced in my voice.

Her face faltered just a bit, she then showcased a tight lipped smile on her face before she spoke, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Her stare shifted slightly downward, her bottom lip in between her teeth, her face flush with embarrassment at her discernible entitlement.

A smug smile rose to my face, it felt good to belittle her, she was probably so self absorbed and sanctimonious that she could use a little blow to her ego. Despite the insignificant number of interactions I had had with her, I convinced myself that I already knew what she was like. A few minutes pass by silently as I make her drink, waiting for the espresso shot to finish it’s pull as I heated up her croissant in the toaster oven. Bringing her order to the counter, I glanced back at her to see she was still sufficiently humiliated. She whispered a gentle thank you and slipped a five dollar bill into the tip jar before turning to walk away through the doors, and a part of me, for a fleeting moment, felt a pang of guilt for making her feel the way she did.

#greta van fleet #gvf #gvf smut #gvf imagine #gvf fic #greta van smut #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x you #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka imagine #josh kiszka imagine #jake kiszka imagine #danny wagner imagine #josh kiszka fanfic #sam kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fanfic #danny wagner fanfic #danny wagner fanfiction #sam kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka smut #josh kiszka smut #jake kiszka smut #danny wagner smut

[kinktae]

bitchin’ || pt. 9 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 4.7k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: fanservice. that's it. that’s the tweet.

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART NINE

"Okay, just sign your name here, and she'll come to get you when she's ready." The cheery girl at the front desk told you.

You offered her a polite smile, walking over to the sit in the waiting room.

You always disliked these chairs. We were willing to bet money that these chairs have sat in this very room since your university first opened, worn out, uncomfortable, and outdated. Sure, maybe you had been in a bit of a sour mood lately – what with your fake ex-boyfriend dirty dicking you and all – but as you sat there, metal rod poking your spin, you couldn't help but frown.

As you sat there contemplating your school's renovation budget, you hardly noticed the sound of another student walking in and over to the front desk, your stomach churning as you put a face to those loose curls.

"Hey, stranger! What are you doing here?" Kiri's white teeth blinded you, walking over to you once her business with the receptionist was done.

You could feel one of your eyebrows twitch in irritation, swallowing down your scoff as she sat next to you.

"Trying to schedule my class next semester." You responded uninterestedly, contemplating whether or not the suspension from decking Kiri in the face would be worth it.

"Oh, just picking up a termination form. One of our newbies wants to pull out of Kappa Alpha Tau."

Shocker...

"Hey, so sorry to hear things with Jungkook and you didn't work out, by the way." Kiri flashed you a sympathetic look.

An audible breath left your lips, disbelief no doubt visible on your every feature. Did Kiri seriously think you didn't know it was her who home wrecked? Or was she just that much of a raging bitch?

"If you ever need someone to, like, talk to, just know that I'm here. I totally know what you're going through."

Your hands found themselves curling into tight balls in an attempt to keep your hands from shaking. Kiri looked as cool as a cucumber in front of you, perfectly composed, not a single hair out of place.

Then it hit you.

Of course. It all made perfect sense now.

From the moment she came up to you at your event offering her condolences, she had been trying to drive you off from Jungkook. She was planting seeds of doubt about their break up and his character. Manipulation and intimidation were her cards, and she played them well.

Fine. If the rules were being bent, you might as well disregard them altogether. You relaxed your hands.

"Oh, no worries. It's all good, I mean, it's not like we were actually dating." You shrugged.

Rule #2: No one can know the truth.

"What?" Kiri blinked, her smile faltering for just a moment.

You edged closer to her, cocking your head in mock surprise.

"Oh... did you not know that? That our entire relationship was contractual?"

"What are you talking about?" Her full brows furrowing.

You let out a sigh, "Yeah, so, basically, Jungkook would get his frat to fund my event if I helped make you jealous so that you'd come crawling back to him."

The polite mask that Kiri had plastered on finally cracked, her next words clipped and curt.

"What the hell is your damage, Y/N? Do you think I'm some sort of idiot how'd fall for that?"

"Good grief, did Jungkook not tell you? Weird, I feel like that's something he'd need to tell his girlfriend." You puffed out your bottom lip in mock sympathy.

Whatever resolve Kiri had built up crumbled at the way you held her stare, a note of honesty in your voice that she couldn't shake.

"I'm..." She cleared her throat, turning her nose up. "We're not actually back together yet."

"No? Really? Hmm..."

The call of your name crossed the room, and the two of you turned to look at the receptionist, ushering you over with the news that your counselor was ready for you.

You turned to Kiri with a smile, "Guess he didn't want you back as so much as he just wanted back in your pants."

Kiri looked utterly stunned, eyes wide as you stood from your seat, for once, without a clue as to what to say.

"See ya around, Kiri. Let's do lunch sometime. Oh and, happy holidays!" You fluttered your fingers at her, slipping away from her with a smugness you couldn't be assed to hide.

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"Wait... he called you?!" Taehyung laughed, eyes wide.

Yara nodded, scouring through the shelves, a specific book in mind. Belinda Carlisle was playing softly overhead and Yara found herself humming along.

As the holidays rolled around and everyone found themselves back in their hometowns, Yara was surprised to find Jungkook's frat brother browsing through the jam aisle in her local supermarket. As luck would have it, Jungkook's genetically blessed frat brother was from her hometown, the two somehow never crossing paths until now.

What started as a polite catchup over coffee, quickly turned into an everyday thing, the two of them realizing they had more in common than friend drama.

"He did!" Yara enthused. "He left a voicemail apologizing and rambled about how he wanted Y/N's address so he could go apologize, blah, blah, blah."

"That idiot." Taehyung rolled his eyes. He watched as she let out a noise of excitement, looking over her shoulder to announce that she had found the book she was in search of. He grinned in response.

"Anyway, I didn't call back. Because that's exactly how she wants to spend Christmas morning, with that jockstrap knocking at her door, right?"

Taehyung snorted, bringing the straw of his drink to his mouth.

"Miriam is gonna have your head on a stick Lord of the Flies style if she catches you with that drink in her library." Yara warned, to which Taehyung dismissed with a wave of a hand.

Yara was a funny girl; he was pleasantly surprised to bump into her during winter break. He could tell something was off when they first ran into each other, so he invited her out to grab some coffee. It was over a warm cup of coffee – with the most absurd amount of sugar he had ever seen – that she finally shared with him all that had been weighing on her mind lately.

Sure there was the Jungkook and Y/N stuff. Yara was beyond homicidal. Taehyung was grateful for winter break as he was positive she would have rung out Jungkook's neck had she seen him after what had happened. Taehyung himself was astounded to find out what exactly was true nature of the two's relationship, curtesy of Yara, of course. Even if it was fake, however, he knew Jungkook enough to know that the happiness he gave off once Y/N entered his life wasn't.

But more than that, the petite girl was worried about a boy, an irritating one who Taehyung happened to be frat brothers with. Eunwoo had approached her immediately after Kiri left him, spewing some excuse about only dating Kiri because he couldn't get Yara out of his mind.

It was bullshit if you asked Taehyung. But he hadn't the heart to tell Yara that, especially with the way she looked so torn up about it – unsure of how to respond to Eunwoo. He wasn't entirely sure what their relationship was like, but he figured it must have meant enough to her to have her feeling this conflicted.

So he did his best to cheer her up, inviting her for lunch and driving her to their local library, which he had come to find out was her favorite place growing up. They spent many afternoons sprawled out on the couches in the now abandoned children's section of the library... or at least until the crabby librarian yelled at them to leave.

If Taehyung was honest, he didn't care much for literature – he was a math guy – but the way Yara would shove a book into his chest with wide eyes and an 'if you don't read this and tell me your thoughts on it, I'll literally die,' seemed reason enough to keep showing up day after day.

"Have you talked to her about Eunwoo, yet?"

Yara flinched at the blond man's words.

"Why don't we ever talk about normal people stuff? Like the weather, or what sports team played last night."

"Yara..."

"Oooh!" She exclaimed suddenly, "I know, let's talk about President Reagan. Did you hear his speech about tearing down the wall in Germany? Crazy stuff–"

"Dude, why are you so scared to tell her about Eunwoo? You told me." Taehyung interrupted, quirking up a brow. Yara held his eyes for a moment before sighing.

"I just don't want to bring it up to Y/N, you know? She has enough going on..."

"So? She's your best friend. She'll want to help."

"Exactly! She's going to want to comfort me and make me feel better – which will just make me feel worse." Yara groaned, leaning back against the bookshelf.

"I'm... not following." The frat boy admitted.

Surely girls aren't usually this hard to understand.

"Look, I know you'd only known me for a little while, but let me pencil you in. I have a reputation, okay? Yara doesn't get hung up on some dumb boy." Yara wagged her finger at him.

"Does Yara usually talk about herself in the third person?" Taehyung chuckled.

"Yara," she continued, paying the boy no mind, "is an independent woman who likes one night stands and sex without strings. She doesn't like clingy boys getting into her head and confusing her."

Taehyung nodded, "So basically, Yara is scared of catching feelings."

"Shh! Don't tell Yara about what Yara doesn't want to hear." She turned her nose up at him, pushing herself back off the stand to march away from him. Taehyung reached for her arm without hesitation, stopping her departure with a sigh.

"Look, I don't mean to be on your ass about this, but clearly, you feel something for this kid. Otherwise, you wouldn't be spending all your time pining over him."

Taehyung immediately wished he could take back those words as an offended look fell across the petite girl's face, her hands falling onto her hips, clearly displeased.

"Pining? You think I'm pining over Eunwoo?"

Taehyung shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to navigate this situation. As much as he liked Yara, she did spark a healthy dose of fear into him.

"Well... I mean... you're spending your whole break with me just because I can give you a ride to the library so you can read sad romance novels and cry."

"First of all," Yara began, "I happen to enjoy your company. You're a good listener and, frankly, very nice to look at."

Surprise fell over Taehyung, "Nice to look at?"

"Oh, don't act like you don't know." She waved him off, "Secondly, I've never cried. I've let out a sniffle at most."

"Fine, so you're not pining over him. Just get back together with him." He responded.

"I can't."

Taehyung frowned, "Then turn him down."

"I can't do that either." She frowned right back.

"Dude."

"I'm scared, okay!" She whined, thumping a foot against the library's carpeted floor.

"Of what? What's holding you back from going back to Eunwoo?"

"...He told me he loves me."

"And?"

"And I don't even know what that means!" Yara threw her hands up in exasperation, the sleeve of her swear falling down her forearms. "I don't know how to love him back or be a good girlfriend – which I know is what he wants from me."

"Yara, I hope you don't feel like you don't owe Eunwoo anything. Because you don't." Taehyung grew serious, which only caused the torn girl to pout.

"I know, I just... I mean, I don't hate him. But it's scary. Whenever I'm dating someone, I get all up in my head like... Am I supposed to be this someone's person? Possibly forever? What the fuck!"

"No, I get it. It's a lot of pressure." He shrugged powerlessly.

"Exactly! I don't want to have to try and love someone. I want to do it. Like... not to sound like a sappy idiot but sometimes I think about all those stories I read," she gestured towards the books beside her, "about feeling a spark when you kiss your person and just... I dunno. Would be fucking nice, instead of this complicated bullshit."

Yara was far from a hopeless romantic. As much as she loved to read about romance, she had an innate urge to flee the moment the word love came around. Still, she could appreciate the idea of it.

"So then forget about that stuff. Forget about labels and expectations. Just be with whoever you want to be with. Have fun, worry about the heavy shit later."

Taehyung had a very soothing effect whenever he spoke. His tone was low and lovely, and despite the way Yara's head was still running a mile a minute, she appreciated the boy's docile nature. Certainly made her feel a whole lot less anxious.

"I want to. That's how this whole thing with Eunwoo started, ya know?" She admitted, crossing her arms over her chest. "But all men are the same. They say they're fine with keeping it casual, but they always end up falling for me, which, duh, understandable..."

The blond boy let out an airy snicker, a direct challenge to Yara's words.

"Something funny, Tae?" She pressed.

"C'mon, that's not true." He rolled his eyes breezily.

"Oh, yeah? Tell that to my four ex-partners who are all still in love with me."

"Maybe you just haven't met the one. You know... your knight-in-no-strings-attached-armor."

"I'm telling you, no such guy exists." Yara emphasized with a poke into Taehyung chest.

He grabbed the jabby finger reflexively, his long fingers wrapping around the small digit, setting his drink on the nearest shelf.

"Yara."

"Seriously, I've done my research! You're looking at a hot commodity, buddy. I may be a raging homebody, but I am very efficient—"

Suddenly, the petite was trapped against the bookshelf with Taehyung hovering over her, a large hand on either side of her head.

"Please stop talking."

Yara's cheeks flushed in surprise as she met the handsome boy's warm eyes, growing even hotter as he leaned over and pressed his mouth against hers.

He smelled distinctly of vanilla, and it sent her stomach fluttering, reeling in the way he gripped her waist, pulling him into her. She would've lost herself in the feeling of his soft lips moving against hers if it weren't for a cough ringing out from somewhere in the library.

Yara broke the kiss short, ears red as she brought her hands to wrap around her torso defensively, trying her hardest to ignore the way her heart was pounding against her chest as if trying to escape.

"You kissed me!" She scoffed, trying her hardest to seem unaffected. Taehyung shrugged.

"You kissed me back."

Oh god, this was bad. She felt all light and giddy tucked away in this corner of the library, the gorgeous tall man still close in proximity, looking at her through a smirk.

"Yes, well... I'm a very go with the flow kind of gal." She defended, brows furrowed adorably.

"Relax, Yara."

"Well, what the hell was that precisely?! Do you just make out with all your library buddies? Is there some sort of library buddy étiquette I'm not aware of?"

"I kissed you because I wanted to. Kissing is fun." He shrugged. "Some guys just want that, you know."

Son of a bitch.

"You got balls, Goldilocks. Understood. Message received, loud and clear." Yara acknowledged through narrowed eyes.

"Happy I could help, bookworm."

A corner of her mouth turned upwards, admittedly amused.

"Just so we're on the same page... you're not in love with me? You just smooched me for fun?" She looked at him skeptically.

"Sorry you had to find out this way." Taehyung joked, earning him an eye roll.

"And you don't have some ex-lover you need to make jealous?"

At those words, the frat boy laughed heartily, head shaking a firm no.

"Wicked."

Yara hopped onto the balls of her feet, hoping to catch the blond's kiss once more when her mouth met the hardcover of a book instead. She sank back down with an annoyed huff; Taehyung had pulled a book from the nearest self in reach, holding it up between them to pause the eager girl's ministrations.

Poking his head out from behind the book cheekily, he flashed her a lopsided grin.

"Easy there, tiger. What about Eunwoo?"

Yara held his eyes for a moment, wondering how she hadn't noticed what a pretty brown they were until now. She let out an appreciative hum.

"What about him?" She raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk on her lips that had Taehyung leaning back over to meet it with one of his own.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me." You greeted him with a cautious smile as he slipped into the chair across from you.

You were nervous, to say the least, watching the tall man shift in his seat, trying to grow comfortable despite the uncomfortable circumstances.

"This place is disorienting." Erik scanned the mall cafeteria before flashing you a charming smile. "Thought you'd get tired of waiting and head back home. I apologize for my tardiness."

"No worries. I still don't know my way around at the mall, and I've been home for weeks." You grinned back.

A pleasant beat of silence passed between the two ex-lovers, each taking a moment to consider the other. Erik looked a lot older than he did in high school; he had on a brand new pair of glasses that suited him far better than the ones you remembered did. His hair was combed and styled smartly so that they would stay out of his eyes. A stark contrast from the long-haired boy you had come to know these past few months.

Dammit. Your eyes fell onto the red table between you two, cheeks growing warm as you realized your thoughts had drifted back to Jungkook, even with your ex-fiance sitting across from you.

Erik's voice rang out, "I'll be honest. I wasn't expecting you to call me."

"I wasn't expecting me to either." You confessed, your hands intertwining on the tabletop.

Really, you didn't have much reason to be nervous. I mean, it was Erik. Despite the end of your relationship, there was no bad blood between you two. It wasn't the first time seeing him since the breakup either... maybe it was why you had called him that had you so on edge.

You weren't sure exactly what you wanted from Erik. Company? A distraction? Maybe what you were asking of him was unfair, but as he placed a hand over yours reassuringly, you found the wall you had set up crumbling down.

"I can help you, but you need to talk to me, Y/N. If I could read minds, I would be a much richer man." His brown eyes rolled dramatically.

You chuckled. Same dry wit you remembered.

"I met someone."

"Is that what you wanted to tell me? Y/N, you're allowed to date other people. I understand your hesitation, but really, it is time you moved on–"

You let out a scoff, yanking your hand away from the now laughing man. You flashed him a feigned look of irritation, silently grateful for the change of pace in conversation, finding it much easier to talk when things weren't so tense.

"God, you are still just as full of yourself as I remembered." You teased.

Erik shrugged, "Not to sound like a cocky asshole, but is it not warranted?"

You let that question run through your mind. You suppose if anyone had reason to have a big head, it would be Erik. Intelligent, handsome, hard-working– everything a mother would want their daughter to have.

"It is. You've always been perfect..." You mused, a hint of sadness in your tone that Erik picked up quickly.

And all at once, his entire demeanor changed, a serious expression settling behind those frames of his.

"Tell me about him." He instructed calmly.

And so you did— the beginning, the end, and all the beautiful bits in between. You told him about a boy that challenged you in ways you never imagined– a boy who made you feel like the sun. You spoke of every stupid conversation you once thought of as meaningless but now weighed heavily on your heart and mind.

You were mad at him, of course. There was a reason you had been ignoring his calls and ordered Yara to keep him in the dark of your whereabouts, after all. But the more you talked about him, the more you lit up. Erik noticed it too. How could he not? It was that very way you spoke with an uncontainable passion that made him fall in love with you in the first place.

He watched with utmost concentration for the vocal inflections of your words, the slight movement of your brows that always seemed to speak your mind before you did.

It was clear to him that this boy wasn't just a boy. He could hear in the choice of words you used, words that were static and void of variables. But there were certain words you seemed to dance around he realized as you came to the end of the story... words that were evident to all but you.

"So... Analysis?" You breathed out, chest deflating as you took in Erik's frown.

"Above all... did you find out if he used protection? I don't want to presume anything about... was her name Kiri?" Erik paused, continuing once you nodded back at him, "but your health should be your number one concern."

"I had a friend of his ask him on my behalf. He says he used protection... I went ahead and got tested anyway, though, and I'm all good thankfully." You told him.

Whether or not Jungkook had passed along some sort of STI was heavy on your mind the next morning after you kicked him out. Thankfully, Taehyung was more than happy to get the answer you need but were still too damn pissed off to seek out yourself.

"Good." Erik sunk back into his seat, a hand coming up to run through his hair as he considered his next words. You suppose you were grateful to be able to talk to Erik like this still. Sure, he was blunt and sometimes stared at you like you were some case-study, but he didn't bat an eye of judgment at the news of the contract, for which you were grateful. He had known you for too long to find it peculiar that you'd pretend to be someone's girlfriend in exchange for furthering and fulfilling your passion project.

If anything, that was precisely in line with your character. He liked to think he instilled some of those traits into you.

"Well, frankly, I am sorry to hear this happened to you. You're a great girl; you deserve better than that."

Your neck warmed at Erik's words, slightly taken aback.

"Oh, um... thanks, that means a lot coming from you." You expressed your gratitude shyly.

Erik nodded back at you, "Seriously. It was very shitty of him to string you along for so long and for sleeping with Kiri despite knowing how you felt."

"Oh."

"Oh?" He frowned, not expecting your response.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, pausing to watch a woman with a stroller walk past your table.

"Well..." you cleared your throat, "I'm not actually sure that he knows that I, um, like him... like that."

God, this was mortifying. The first time you had admitted you liked Jungkook and it was to your ex-fiancé? Sometimes you swear you were the protagonist in a mediocre rom-com film and no one was telling you.

Erik paused, "I see. And does he know now?"

"...No."

"I see." He sat up, fingers tapping against the table in interest. He quirked up a brow at you. "Perhaps it wasn't just him who was dishonest."

You scrunched your nose at him, not liking what you were hearing. It wasn't anything that hadn't already kept you up, tossing and turning in bed at 2 AM, of course. You had a feeling this was where this conversation would lead to. Erik, as genius as he was, was fairly predictable in this sense. Rational, dependable... nothing like the spontaneous boy you had fallen for.

"So? Even if he knew, what would that change? He slept with her..." You grumbled stubbornly.

"And maybe he wouldn't have if he had known."

You crossed your arms, "You don't know that."

"You're right. I don't. I don't even know the guy. But you do." He continued, offering you a suggestive look.

Huh. Did you think that would have stopped Jungkook? And even so, would that fact alone be enough to get you to forgive him?

"I... I don't know." Was your conclusion, pulling a hum from Erik.

"Guess the only way to know would be to discuss it with the meathead himself."

"I just... I don't want to get my heart broken again. I, quite literally, didn't sign up for this." You placed your face into your hands, hating how rational Erik had to be.

"My guess? He didn't either. It seems as if you both got more than you bargained for." He shrugged.

"He's definitely not at all what I was expecting..." You trailed off glumly.

When you first met Jungkook, he was obnoxious, cocksure, and grotesquely unbothered. You swore you had never hated anyone more on the first meet. But as you came to know him, you found in him a lot of what you wished you found in yourself. Approachable, flexible, spontaneous...

You just wished it all didn't have to hurt so bad.

"You and I are a lot alike, you know." Erik spoke up once he noticed you fall silent. " And I only realized this recently, but I think that was our downfall. When I asked you to marry me, what I was asking of you... Well, it was unfair. Because I know I would never accept that if I were in your shoes."

Your head shot up at his words, hands quick to wave at him dismissively. Asking him to meet you here was not to discuss what had gone wrong in your relationship, and you didn't want him to think that it was.

"Erik, that's okay you don't have to—"

"No, no, what I mean is... we made perfect sense together and it didn't work out in the end. This meathead of yours is nothing like you and maybe it's for the better. You said it yourself that he makes you feel important and formidable." He pressed on.

"Are you trying to imply the notion of opposites attract? Because I personally believe that's a myth and that we're drawn to those similar to us—"

"Puzzle pieces."

"Wha— Huh?" You blinked, blind-sighted by the calm man's sudden words.

Suddenly, Erik readjusted in his seat, leaning in close as he nodded his head.

"Think of life as one big puzzle, and everyone you meet is shaped differently, right? Yet somehow... they fit. We find those that complete us. And they're not necessarily opposites but—"

"But different pieces in the puzzle." You sighed, understanding the metaphor.

You raised a brow at the intellectual man, "That was uncharacteristically poetic of you. I thought you were a man of science... since when do you rely on literary devices to get your point across?"

Erik let out a dramatic sigh, fingertips pressed to the rip of his glasses, leaning back into his seat as if showing his greatness.

"I'm a growing man, Y/N. Science helps you understand the mind and the body, but as far as the heart goes... there's only so much it can tell us." He tutted wisely with a wag of his pointer finger.

"Wow. I dig this character development. I quite like this new you."

"Wanna get married now?" He deadpanned suddenly, a laugh ripping out of you at his unexpected words.

Erik grinned at the familiar sound, also finding the humor within his joke. He was pleased to see that if anything, he could at least momentarily take your mind off of your heart's turmoil.

"Ask me again in another three years." You rolled your eyes, grinning wide, to which Erik threatened that if Jungkook didn't by then, then he just might.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bangtan smut #bangtan #bts scenarios #bts preferences #bts imagines #Taehyung smut #yoongi smut #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts fan fic #jimin smut #hoseok smut #Seokjin smut #namjoon smut

[somethingwritey]

“i’m not the hero” - a carmilla drabble x sketch

wow, a carmilla drabble in 2021! who would’ve thought? if you haven’t seen carmilla (a modern au on the original gothic lesbian vampire novella) i highly recommend. 

♡ art by @/anklebit! this artwork is also on their redbubble shop found here! 

♡ my writing commissions are open! message me for details or visit this post!

-------

“Listen, babe, this is why I don’t do the whole… save the world thing.” Carmilla leaned the chair off the ground, balancing on the back two legs. “You end up getting in over your head and then by the time you realize that you’re actually not the daringly romantic savior you thought you were, it’s too late.”

“Don’t babe me.” Laura grimaced a little, pointedly ignoring the majority of Carmilla’s point. “We’re not friends.”

Carmilla stuck out her lower lip in a mocking pout.  

Laura had never wanted to deck someone more. She turned back to her computer to keep herself from acting on the urge, taking a deep breath. The best course of action here was no action. She would ignore her infuriating roommate the best she could until her actual roommate was located, and then all of this would become one big, very odd nightmare.

Carmilla didn’t seem to approve of that plan. “Oh, come on.”

A single rolled-up sock hit Laura’s shoulder. Had her roommate from hell really throwing resorted to laundry? She glanced over her shoulder with a glare, pointing to the sock. “Pick it up.”

“No.”

“Do you get off on being the worst or something?” Laura stooped down with a huff, picking up the sock and marching over to aggressively throw it in the laundry bin. Just for kicks. 

“No, but if you’re interested in learning,” Carmilla flashed her another syrupy smile, patting her own lap. “You could come here, and I’d give you a demonstration.” Typical.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I grow on people.” Carmilla returned to trying to balance the chair on its back legs.

“I highly doubt that.”

“Just like I highly doubt you’re going to find that party animal of an ex-roommate.”

Laura tried not to show how much the comment irked her. She would find Betty. Failure wasn’t even a possibility. Besides having to live with the knowledge that she’d somehow let her probably-hammered roommate wander away at a party to her own doom, Laura couldn’t get stuck with Carmilla as a new “forever roomie.” It was unthinkable. She was going to succeed with her mission whether Carmilla thought so or not. 

“You should take my advice,” Carmilla called airily. “This path you’re going down only leads to pain and misery.”

“Thanks, but,” Laura gave her a pointed stare. “I’ve got pain and misery right now as it is. What’s a little more?”

///

A little more turned out to be… a lot more, and Laura wondered if it was too late to take back the snarky comment she’d made. 

Probably, seeing as Carmilla was already dead. 

Or… kind of dead?

Laura wasn’t actually clear on that. Her mind was still a little fuzzy, in shock as it was after the whole hungry light, vampire sword showdown. All she knew was that as soon as Perry and Danny had set Carmilla’s lifeless body down on her bed, she’d leapt into survival mode.

Which, until this semester, was a mode she hadn’t even known she possessed.

After all, most university students didn’t start their freshman year thinking they’d have a vampire for a roommate. Or that they might end up developing a really inconvenient crush on said roommate.  

In the aftermath of the resuscitation, though, the only one still finding it difficult to catch her breath was Laura herself. She didn’t want to let go of Carmilla, as if even blinking for a moment too long might reveal it was all a cruel trick.

Surprisingly, Carmilla didn’t seem to mind… although maybe that was just a side effect of being mostly dead in the bottom of a pit. Or the kiss. Laura hoped it was because of their kiss.

“I thought you didn’t do the whole ‘saving the world’ thing,” Laura managed to tease, gently prodding Carmilla with an elbow.

“Yeah, well,” Carmilla rolled her eyes, proving there was at least some part of her old attitude that even self-sacrifice couldn’t take away. “Sometimes I make exceptions when there’s a pretty girl in danger.”

“Oh, so this is a hero complex?”

“Careful, I still bite.”

That coaxed a smile out of Laura. “Considering your track record, I should probably be more afraid.” She still had the mark on her neck.

“You cannot hold that against me.” Carmilla sat up straighter in protest. “I saved everyone’s life.”

“Mmm,” Laura hummed, working up the courage to reach for Carmilla’s hand. “I’ll see about getting your record expunged.”

Her fingers finally reached Carmilla’s, and the other girl glanced down - surprised for a moment - before intertwining them.

They sat there, hands locked together, and for just a few moments, everything was fine.

--- 

if you enjoy my writing, support me on ko-fi! 

#carmilla #carmilla x laura #vampire #wlw #writing commissions #writers on tumblr #natasha negovanlis #carmilla art #wlw art #vampire art #vampire fiction #fan fic #fanart #my writing #commissions open #lesbian writer #ko fi link #sapphic #more writing coming soon! #hollstein #laura hollis

[tar-oh]

Pick a Pile: Who has a crush on you?

So, confession time. I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for about a month or so. The reason for not posting it until now is that a lot of the piles felt very similar to other piles? But, now that I think about it, it could just be that some people are called to more than one pile and they’re continuations or something along that line? Either way, they all blend a little, which was so weird to me. So, I am finally posting it. I thought it would be a cute fun little read, but it just became a little confusing towards the last few piles. Also, I’m not sure how comfortable I feel tapping into that kind of energy. I think it’s one thing to ask what’s coming towards you in love vs. who has a crush on you because then there’s like that whole consent thing. But, I already did the piles, and my reservations about it didn’t really pop up until the last two piles. It felt wrong to have spent so much time on 6 piles and not post it? Plus, with Valentines day coming up and my own love life being as dry as possible, I thought it would be fun to get nosy about your love lives! So I do plan on doing some more love-themed readings within the next week or so (HOPEFULLY! My second semester of school started this week, but I’m working on balancing school and my life outside of it!). SO. Choose a pile 1-6 below. Each is represented by some good looking gentleman (or lady) from some period piece. There’s no connection to the characters to the piles outside of just being shows/movies I enjoy. If you’d like a private reading, DM me! Tips are also appreciated (but obviously not necessary). cashapp $sararms paypal: paypal.me/sararms  Another thing to note is that I really ask you to only take what resonates. There’s no way I can get every story possible within 6 readings, so there may only be bits here and there for you, for others there may not be anything that resonates. So, please be discerning. As I said, if you’d like a private reading, please DM me. Also, I gotta apologize, since I had started this nearly a month ago, there’s an obvious difference in the pictures of the cards because I’ve since gotten a new phone that takes way better pictures. But the layout, on the other hand, has no excuse... ANYWAY HERE ARE THE PILES:

1) Jem Merlyn (Jamaica Inn) 2) Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables) 3) Emma Woodhouse (Emma 2020) 4) Jo March (Little Women 2019) 5) Ross Poldark (Poldark) 6) Simon Basset (Bridgerton)

Pile 1: (Jem Merlyn)

cards: Peacock, 8 of swords, 3 of cups rx, 4 of wands, juno, hygeia, psyche First, I have to say that I have a feeling that this person feels you left them. I'm not sure what the context of that is, but from the song lyrics in Downfall by Matchbox Twenty ("If I could go back, would you have ever been with me?"), and then as I started thinking about that, the song Promises by Aly and Aj came on and there's a line in this song about how there is nothing left there anymore.  "Guess I'll go back, guess I'll go home now. Gotta turn around, there's nothing here for me now", which, MOOD to be honest lol. So, it's like, maybe you left something behind, whether it be a home (like a city or a residence?), maybe a job? Something about you left and this person just feels that it's...Not over, but like, that there's something that's changed that will either make things harder or impossible? Also, on the bottom of my lyric deck there was the song Riptide by Vance Joy, at the part where he sings "I just wanna, I just wanna know if you're gonna, if you're gonna stay." So, maybe you're thinking about leaving something? A job? A relationship? I don't know, but that's what I'm getting. There’s something about leaving here, either way. Another thing I'm getting is that I feel that this is a little more than a crush. Or at least, I think they just feel a lot for you. Like, maybe you've taken up their brain space or something, especially since the song Eat, Sleep, Wake (Nothing But You) came on. It's basically about getting someone stuck in your head, so like no matter what you do, they show up in your thoughts. So, I definitely think you've done a number on them. Oh! "I may not say it outwardly, so all I have are memories. Those looks from at the start." I feel like this is definitely someone who is really into you but they haven't told you so - but I think you may get this feeling (like maybe you catch them staring from across the room or something, and with peacock, I feel like they don't even act embarrassed if you catch them). I'm getting a bit of regret with this, especially with 3 of cups reversed and 8 of swords. 8 of swords is almost always about someone who is stuck in their head about something. They're overthinking things and cannot see a way forward, so maybe this person feels like it's almost futile having a crush or feelings for you? I do wonder if for some, the 3 of cups reversed suggests that maybe they think you two are too different? But, then there's the 4 of wands, and these people on this card look really in love and its about balance and harmony...so, maybe they see you as someone they wouldn't mind ending up with, despite differences? But this is about WHO has a crush on you, so I want to describe them a bit for you. So, I pulled the peacock card for you. It's funny because the deck kept spitting out too many cards and when I finally said "only one please" it spit this one out. This is funny to me, because one of the ones I actually noticed that had fallen out before was one with a peacock. I personally have been kind of...haunted by them as of late, so I'm going to notice when they're present. I made note of it, shuffled and then pulled the actual peacock card. When I think of peacocks, I think of the way they strut around. Obviously, when we think of them, we think of how the male peacocks have those beautiful colors on their feathers. So, I think this is someone who stands out. I do also think they may have a certain walk to them, but I don't think they're exaggerating. I think they just...Are that way? Like, they don't have to try hard to get people to notice them, they're just naturally in the spotlight. For some, it could be someone that is kind of show-offy. But, I really don’t get that feeling. Moving on to the tarot, the 8 of swords tells me this person is in their head a lot. I already established you're one of those things in their head, but I also think there's a lot of other things they may overthink. They definitely could be someone who's just an anxious being - I almost feel that Hygeia supports that idea since it can be about your body and your health. The deck's booklet suggests that depending on the placement one has, it can lead to being a hypochondriac, so maybe they're just a giant worry-wart? With the 3 of cups reversed, I get a few things. There's one where it could be either 1 of 2 ways: the first being that maybe they're someone that parties a lot? Like, an excessive amount - and I'm only saying that because it's reversed. The other thought is that this person's kind of a kill-joy, like maybe they don't really have fun at all. Maybe they work too much or something? But I don't think that's it, because to me 4 of wands suggests that overall they're pretty balanced, so I'm thinking that this could be another possibility. One might be they just like to stay at home, like they're a lone wolf?  Another one, I'm just letting this idea flow to me, is that maybe they're just super argumentative, and maybe that's what it's in reverse. Maybe you two argue a lot or they just like to start debates or something along those lines? I usually wouldn’t get that for 3 of cups, but that just came to my mind so I’m sure it’s for someone. Since I'm reading for a lot of people, I feel like there are just a lot of possibilities for these. And with the astrology cards, I only was able to pull asteroids, no signs or houses or planets. So, this makes me think a lot of people are choosing this pile, so pointing out possible astrological placements may not help you guys. But, if you want to know, I see air, water and fire with the tarot alone, and the bottom of the astrological deck was pisces, so that might be for someone. I do feel like this person has more of a balanced set of placements, so for example their sun moon and rising may not be in the same element, and maybe things balance them out. But with the overthinking element, I do wonder if there's a lot of air in their chart. I did mention that Hygeia was about the body and it can also be about hygiene, so I get that this person is just super clean? And, by that I mean, it's super noticeable. Maybe you notice that they smell like a specific soap or if they're someone that might grow facial hair, they keep it well-trimmed, or shaven completely. Their hair is probably kept nicely (like all pieces are in place), their clothes probably neat and never rumpled. Like, that kind of a person? Hygeia also focuses on how we treat our bodies, so...This almost makes me think back to how I mentioned excessive partying with the 3 of cups being reversed? I think they try to take care of themselves, but there might be a bad habit they have, like smoking or drinking more than they know they should. I don't get any huge red-flags about it, so take what resonates. Juno can talk about partnerships and what one's ideal partner is like, so I think this just says that one of you views the other as the ideal partner. I say one of you, because I was going to say they view you this way, but it's about WHO has a crush on you, so I do wonder if this is a two-way street here? Like, I think you may have a crush on them too, in which case, you're probably going to notice what they smell like lol. This could also suggest that they have boundaries that are clear to you and everyone else. So, maybe they're in the spotlight, but they only let people in so close? Like, they’re pretty selective about it? I think this person also comes off as being super empathetic and sensitive to people and their energies. The Psyche card can talk about this, so I think maybe they're someone who can just tell in an instant if you're just not feeling right? This could be why they hold boundaries - maybe sometimes they just get overwhelmed from how other peoples emotions make them feel? One of the lyrics I pulled for this pile was from Tiger's Jaw's song, Divide. The line goes: "You are drowning, it's in your eyes." - That line makes me think about someone who's extra sensitive to other people, and maybe also someone who has a lot of thoughts and emotions themselves. The bottom deck energy being Pisces makes me think of that too, especially because Pisces is a water sign (so, emotions), and the sign is 2 fish, so again, water - drowning. It's possible this person has a lot of emotions but no way to express them (8 of swords) so in return it feels a bit like their head is a prison? I'm not really getting much else about this person. I almost feel like this is just a sign that I should take to tell you that I think this is all you need to know? Like, I think, like I said earlier, you kind of had a feeling this person had a crush on you anyway. So, maybe this is more just a confirmation for you? Either way, I think this should be enough for you to know who I'm talking about. Oh! One thing, though, is that I think both of you, even though you both get the feeling that the other likes you, don't think it's possible? I just got that at the beginning because Movement's cover of Loosing my Religion came on first, and that song is basically about unrequited love. So, I think the 3 of cups reversed could also just be about miscommunication, or at least,  misinterpreting actions and words on both sides? I don't know, something to think about. Music: losing my religion - cover by Movements promises - aly & aj downfall - matchbox twenty divide - tigers jaw riptide - vance joy eat, sleep, wake (nothing but you) - bombay bicycle club Pile 2: (Anne Shirley)

cards: queen of wands, ace of cups, queen of swords, elixir, anne carson (intellect), venus, 1st quarter moon, solar eclipse So, you got Queen of Wands AND Queen of Swords, AND Queen of Pentacles was on the bottom of the deck. So, there is a possibility that this is more than one person. For the sake of not confusing myself, I'm going to read this like one person, so, there's a possibility that you could possibly pick out multiple people being described. Or, if you felt called to another pile, maybe check it out to see if that can give you any more clarity. Remember! Take what resonates! Whoever this is THEY ARE SMART. And I don't just mean book-smart, I just mean INTELLIGENT. I got both the Anne Carson card AND Brainy by The National. The Anne Carson card's keyword is The intellect, and it talks about growing intellectually, but also the "delights of the mind", so I think this person also likes to pick other people's brains as a way to learn more about others and the world they're living in. I also think they're a student, and I mean, they could be any age, really. Like, maybe they're in graduate school or just still in High School. It could also just be that they’re not in school, but are just constantly seeking knowledge? So, maybe they read a lot of non-fiction? All I know is that this person being smart is probably something you've thought about, even if it's only a passing thought. Oh. But they're also maybe a little full of it, lol. (Full of It by DBMK came on, so!!!) Another thing is that the bottom deck energy for the astrology cards was Pallas Athena and that can talk about intelligence, so phew. Very smart. The venus card, to me, suggests that this is a really good looking person. Like, I don't want to say classically good-looking, but I think a lot of people notice this person. Also, Venus rules Taurus and Libra, and since you got Queen of Swords and Queen of Pentacles was on the bottom, I could definitely see this person having earth and air in their placements. But, kind of similar to what I saw in the first pile, I got a feeling of balance of placements (within the tarot I pulled, fire, water and air are present, plus bottom deck which was earth). So, like I also told the first pile, I think I'm reading for a lot of different situations, also if this is more than one person, the placements are going to be everywhere. I just want to say that you shouldn't get stuck on that, just take this as more of a confirmation if you already know their placements or something. First Quarter moon talks about transformation, so, maybe this is a very transformative person. Meaning, maybe they change their style a lot, or maybe they just seem to be changing a lot themselves? Solar Eclipse suggests something is being illuminated. So maybe they're someone that is really blunt? I think queen of swords definitely lends to this, because anyone in that energy can be seen as a very blunt person. I think they might be someone that says something that gets others thinking. Or, they have a way about explaining things that allows someone to see another side to things? The song Be Sensible by Jimmy Eat World came on, so I think this person is pretty logical and sensible, which is another Air-quality, so blunt, but logical. Like, they may not sugar-coat what they say, but they're also logical and see both sides of situations, in return, allowing you to see both sides to. To be honest, I feel like they're pretty sarcastic for some of you. And, I mean. The dryest of humor. The kind where you have to look up when they say something to see if they’re being serious or not, and sometimes it goes over some peoples heads. But, something tells me you’re able to translate it well. To be honest, I don’t think this person would have a crush on you if you couldn’t differentiate between their sarcasm and when they’re serious. So I said they were probably really blunt and logical, also possibly sarcastic. That's what I got from the Queen of Swords. From Queen of Wands, I also get that their really passionate. Like, I think this could be about anything? Maybe just life! But, I think there's a certain amount of creativity this person holds, and I think them being super smart gives them an interesting perspective on whatever they create? Maybe they write poetry or lyrics. Maybe they paint? For some reason, I always get a painter from queen of wands. I don't know, maybe I'm just imagine someone with a huge paint brush lol Like, really, in my mind I'm seeing someone with a giant paint brush, so maybe this person really does paint. The ace of cups is interesting to me. I think this might just say that their in the beginning of something that's emotionally fulfilling? Like, maybe a new course or a new job? For some of them, they just found the path they want to take. I know that sounds random, but the song (jogging) by Jetty Bones came on and a lyric really stood out to me, "All along, I thought I knew, but I had no, no idea where I was going at all, so I was going and going and going and gone." So, maybe they felt like they were in this endless loop of life until recently something dawned on them and they took a new path, which ended up being something really fulfilling emotionally? This could also just be someone who is really open about their emotions. I'd say they sound really emotionally balanced. And, this ace of cups is a hand pouring liquid from one container to another, so maybe they also are someone with a lot of love to give? I was trying to figure out what Elixir meant in this context, but I forgot that the bottom deck energy for this pile in that deck was Ghost, which can mean unfinished business. So, possibly this is someone from your past? Or someone who just thinks your time together isn't over. So if for some reason this is someone and you know who it is and you haven't seen them in a while, they don't think it's over. They think you'll run into each other again, and maybe elixir is like you two getting drinks (could also be getting coffee lol) - the song Take Me by Aly and Aj came on, so!!! Maybe they want to take you on a date to get drinks!? (Ace of cups!?). For the lyrics, they definitely are wondering how you feel about them since I pulled Downfall by Matchbox Twenty (First pile got the same song, different lyrics), "I wonder what you think of me." So, they definitely aren't sure how you feel. However, I think they can have a big ego (I think I mentioned this earlier), because I also pulled the line "You might need me more than you think you do." from Brainy by The National, so I think they're someone who can sometimes feel a bit entitled to other people? If that's the case, I'd make sure you set good boundaries. I don't get a bad vibe but I get a cocky vibe and sometimes cocky people can be total assholes. Strong boundaries are good for this person, but if this is someone who you actually want to accept the cup from, than I wouldn't build the boundaries too high, ya know? Like, still be open, but also be careful. I just don't want someone to feel entitled to you guys, okay? That being said, I think they loose sleep over you lol, because bottom deck energy for the lyric cards is a song by Now, Now called Prehistoric (so, also, thinking about someone from your past? But also, maybe they're into history?), " I will trade this sleep for you in a heart beat." Maybe they dream a lot about you? Either way, I think they loose sleep over you, so I mean, if they are really cocky, that's kind of something to be proud of lol You managed to take up more space in their mind than they themselves took up (Yeah, I'm seriously getting a cocky, full of themselves energy from this person). Oh! I just noticed that there's like a shape coming out of the cup on the Elixir card, and it looks a bit like a ghost, so definitely unfinished business with someone. I don’t know! I get good vibes from them despite how cocky they feel. I think that may just have come across so strongly so that someone can possibly confirm who it is? Just, remember boundaries! Music: Downfall - Matchbox Twenty Brainy - The National (jogging) - Jetty Bones Take Me - Aly & Aj Pile 3: (Emma Woodhouse)

cards: 6 of swords, king of pentacles, 3 of swords, capricorn, scorpio, psyche, wolf, Flannery O'Connor (Humanity) I get this sense that this is someone who doesn't say much. Like, I think they speak only when they have something of value to say. I don't know, I just get that feeling because I pulled lyrics from the song The Silence by Manchester Orchestra. These lyrics don't suggest this, but I was thinking about the song title and the fact that I pulled the Wolf card too. I got the saying "lone-wolf" in my head with that. Also, with Scorpio and Capricorn, I get a strong energy from them but like both signs can be observational. I think Capricorns get pinned into this stereotype of being workaholics and super-materialistic, but at the root of it all, their earth signs, so they're still grounded and logical. Not in the sense of an air-signs logic, but like, I'd say understanding. Like, I think they feel more and think more than they let on, but they don't see much point in expressing those things, which is the exact energy I get from this person. I wonder if maybe they just have a hard time opening up? Also, the bottom deck energy for the tarot deck was The Emperor, and even though that's technically the Aries card, I definitely get like a Capricorn vibe from it too. Like, I do think they're good at controlling themselves. Like, their sense of self-control is GOOD. Maybe they're a little lost and having trouble with that right now, but I think normally this person is good at that. And for water signs, I view Scorpios as being a little more closed off. They're known for being extremely observational, but their observations are also fairly insightful. So, I bet this person has a lot they could say, but maybe they just don't deem it as worthy - or at least, not for everyone to hear. As though they don't open up to just anyone. I get a similar vibe in this pile to pile 1, so if you felt called to it, I’d check it out. With the tarot, I see that for some of you this is someone who is moving away from a job or something financial. I only say this because 6 of swords suggests moving away from something and 3 of swords suggests heartbreak, but with the king of pentacles (and even an earth sign like Capricorn falling out) I do wonder if this was job-related. Though, this could be someone who is getting over someone who is in the king of pentacles energy? I think they definitely could be moving away from heartbreak of some sort, whether it's finances or romance. But, along with that, I can also see 6 of swords being paired with Scorpio as being super transformational. Like, I think they know when they need to transform and go through those death/rebirths. Like when a change is needed. The 3 of swords could just say they've broken a few (or a lot) of hearts, and I'd say with both scorpio and capricorn present, they must be a pretty intense person, so heartbreak might be a common thing they cause. Or, they themselves have had many heart breaks. I think, mostly, though, what I get is that right now they're going through one. This could also be that they felt rejected by you at some point? Like maybe you rejected them, or it was vice versa and maybe they regret that? Either way, they're into you now.  Even if you turned them down or they turned you down, they're into you. I think they could be at a distance from you - whether physical or maybe they just can't get you alone? Or, just time with you in general? Because I pulled lyrics from Mat Beringer's song Distant Axis: "I feel like I'm as far as I can get from you." And if we pair that with the 6 of swords, I could see a distance. I'm not sure what category you fall under (the actual physical one, or the one where you two can't get time together), but they're feeling this. Oh, the song Seneca by Movements came on, and this song is about someone finding out that an Ex that they never quite got over is engaged, so I definitely wonder if for some this is an ex that never got over you. The song before it was Garden Eyes by the same band, and that one talks about staying in a situation you feel because you think it's the best there is for you. So, I do wonder if one of you is with someone else and there's pining? Also, while this person is intense, I do wonder if they have some intense self-worth issues. I also think that they have trouble with the world in general. Like, I think they see what's going on and aren't happy. I get that from the Humanity card, Flannery O'Connor's. This card has a peacock on it (again, check out pile one if you felt called to) Peacocks to me seem to demand attention, whether or not it's really what they want? Like, either way, you're going to see their colors, so I think this person could be someone that stands out to you - but maybe you also notice that they're kind of a loner too. Like, not quite, but definitely someone who isn't quite open to everyone. The Humanity card can talk about reckoning with failure. She's holding a broken egg (though it looks like it's bleeding), so I have to wonder if maybe they put their eggs all in one basket (so to speak...) and it failed them, and now they're having to deal with the fall out or regret. It can also talk about knowing oneself, so maybe it's also them being in a process of relearning who they are? So if we go off of my theory of them having to get through heartbreak and move on from something either financial or romance related, we could maybe assume that maybe they had started to build their identity off of this relationship or job? Maybe it consumed them to a point where they lost themselves in it but now they don't have it so they're just sitting there with that broken egg? OH! The wolf card can mean the self without others, so yeah. They definitely lost themselves within something for a bit. Maybe even within you? I'm not sure, I think there are a lot of different situations here. I do think they see you in a hopeful way though, like maybe them thinking about you gets them in a better mood? I think, like my comment about them having trouble with self-worth, I think they're just having a difficult time, and maybe they're trying hard to be grateful? I pulled the song, the Silence by Manchester Orchestra for you and the line I pulled was "Let me open my eyes and be glad that I got here." So, perhaps they're just going through a tough time and having trouble finding the good in the world. I also think with the Psyche card, they're pretty intuitive and empathetic, especially if they're a Scorpio or have that in any major placements, so It's definitely this thought in my mind of them kind of drowning in pain? I'm not sure, but I get sadness from them. An intense energy, but also an intense sad one. So, I guess if you know who they are, and you have feelings for them too, I'd give them some space to heal.  The bottom deck energy for the Literary Witch Oracle was Saphho's card, which has the keyword of Love, so I think it's a pretty big crush that they have. Another key saying for it is taking flight, so I think this person is moving on from whatever happened in the past, but I see it as a thick energy. Like, slow moving. Like, when you're trying to walk through water or snow? Just. Slow. The King of Pentacles in this deck has a turtle, so I'd definitely say slow...The last song that came on for you was Wake Me by Bleachers, and it's a pretty romantic song, so yeah. They like like you lol. Music: The Silence - Manchester Orchestra Distant Axis - Matt Beringer Seneca - Movements Garden Eyes - Movements Wake Me - Bleachers

Pile 4: (Jo March)

Cards:  wall, saphho, the fool, king of cups, page of cups rx, virgo, 1st house, hygea I think they're indecisive, I'll say that lol Lot's of cards that would flip and then flip back before I could grab them. So maybe in general they just have trouble making decisions or they're undecided about you. Like, they have a crush, but they're not sure how big it is or if they want to make a move? For some, how to make a move? Yeah, I did pull some lyrics from a song by Road Trip called Tokyo Hotel, "If I leave my love in your hands, tell me you'll keep it safe?" So, I do wonder if this person is just scared of being vulnerable, and so maybe they're going through a healing period and aren't able to make a move/don't feel capable so they're just kind of crushing on you from far away. I also pulled the song Shameless by All Time Low, which basically is just about how the narrator thinks this person is shameless: "You talk like you're famous. You're shameless," but I almost don't see this as a bad thing. Like I think they view you as someone who see's your self worth, so I'm reading this that way. So, wow, that first paragraph was so funny because I wrote that before I pulled the other cards? I pulled the lyric cards first, mostly because I felt called to, but I also was like "maybe this can give me the tone of this pile's reading?" And it sure did! Yes, this is someone who is currently healing. They have some high boundaries right now, I especially see that with the card "wall", so yes. They're very protective of themselves. I'd say they're guarding their heart pretty closely, and I think that Sappho (Love), and King of Cups is a dragon in front of that cup, looking a little fierce. Not really welcoming at all. Also, page of cups is reversed. That card came out sideways, and when I looked at it I really just felt that it was more reversed than anything? Like, I think they want to offer you a cup, like even that King looks a bit like he does, but there's just this sense of needing to protect themselves, so it's not offered. But I think a word that applies to this is yet, like they have the intention to - I definitely feel this, but they don't think now is a good time.  You did get Sappho, which the main keyword is love. So? I definitely think they have feelings for you and they definitely desire something with you, but not now? (Hey, on a side note, if you know who this is and also have feelings, please don't put your life on hold for them? I just felt the need to say that.) And maybe that's like on both sides, maybe they have some shit they're dealing with and maybe you do too. I accidentally wrote page of pentacles instead of cups when I was writing out the cards, and I do get that feeling here. I think they're starting something new like a new job/career or class while also healing themselves? So, it's just not a good time for them to start something else too. Especially because I feel like with the King of Cups they want to put effort into it, like the king is someone who is able to balance their emotions and think with their heart and their mind. Like, not rule quite as logically as the King of Swords, but there still is logic involved. Which brings me to the astrology cards. I pulled Virgo, which is so interesting to me. Lately I've been noticing how many similarities to Virgo that the sign Scorpio has? And I definitely get scorpio vibes with this pile despite not pulling anything that was like SUPER scorpio? Like, yes, cups are dominant here, so there's definitely water, But, outside of that, the only actual one that I'd say is Virgo for sure. However, we have the fool card here - I'm not going to get to this one quite yet, because I'm still kind of feeling that one out, but I can say that it's ruled by Uranus, which in return rules Aquarius. But, this person I think can be detached. I know that sounds weird, considering that I said I got watery Scorpio vibes (though, another thing to add is that this deck has chosen to use a siren for the fool card, so definitely WATER ), but I mean, I think with Virgo, Aquarius and Scorpio vibes, there's a HUGE analytical trait to this person. I think they observe and take in all of the little details. This could also be another reason why they're not making a move on you yet? I think there are a few more details they want to "smooth" over so to speak, but also a few more things they want to know about you. Also, bottom of the deck energy was Page of Swords, so more page activity. This, I think, is them watching you. Like, not in a creepy way. Just in a way to gather knowledge on how best to approach this? Going back to the fool, I think usually this is someone who does take chances. With the Virgo and Airy/Aquarius element, I think they think about these chances, like maybe even too much, but I think with that King of Cups and Page of Cups (even in the reverse), they still allow their heart to mingle in this logic? Maybe when they were younger they were impulsive, and over time they've learned to like, tame the impulsivity? It's funny because even though there's a page here, I don't think they're that young. Yes, some of them might be, but I think the majority of you that picked this pile are older? LIke 20s+? I said they have have started something new recently, and I think there are a few set backs within it, like maybe it's taken a while to get there. So, while they're a King of Cups, they're also a Page of Cups. Something about this crush on you also makes them feel inexperienced. Maybe, with past connections they liked to jump in right away (that fool card), but now they're...Not feeling so confident? Maybe, going back to the lyrics by All Time Low, they fear rejection from you? Bottom of the deck energy for the lyric deck was the song Flowerchild by Citizen with the line: "I don't know where I went wrong", so perhaps you've rejected them already? Or, there's a sense that if they offer something they won't be good enough for you? But...They're a king...I don't know! This person has some insecurities. Also, I think the wall card could indicate this as well? Like, this insecurities are obstacles. There also could be physical obstacles, like maybe it's just not possible for either of you to work it out right now, so maybe they're bidding their time? I have a lot of questions about this and I think this is mostly because I'm reading a lot of different situations, so if you feel like you recognize this energy, take what resonates. I have a song stuck in my head called Intuition by The Backseat Lovers, and I didn't want to mention it because I thought it was mostly just me, but it didn't really get stuck in my head until I started this pile. Also, I couldn't hear the lyrics or remember which song it was until right when I wrote "resonates". The lyrics I hear are "Call it intuition..." so, I think for some of you this is resonating. Like you're just confirming something. I looked at the booklet for the Virgo card to see if there was anything I wasn't remembering about the sign, and it did remind me of a few things. First off, it's an earth sign (Capricorn is on the bottom of the deck, so I think this person has strong earth/water placements), and can be nurturing. So, maybe it's that their embodying a more nurturing energy right now for themselves? Like, I get this organized nurture. That's so funny to say because I think when people think of people who are organized and super analytical they definitely get like this idea of someone who is really serious and no-nonsense, right? But, I don't get that? In fact, even though I think they're healing and they have their walls up, I get this cheery sense to this person. I think they do like order and I think they are trying to take care of their health/body/mind/emotions (hygeia and virgo definitely suggest this), but I think they also are a nice person. Like a genuinely nice? (not that someone who cares for themselves aren’t, I’m just saying they like to help people as well as themselves, like a: “I give what I can when I can” kind of energy) Even though that dragon looks a bit suspicious on the King of cups and he's snarling, I think maybe they could give off a cold/harsh exterior? But, this could also be linked to those boundaries and those insecurities. Maybe this is how they seem, but if you get to know them, they're warmer than this. Oh, you know that's so funny, I forgot that we have the 1st house here. This is the house that is basically how we are on the outside? So maybe they're a Virgo or Aquarius rising? Or even a Scorpio rising? So then that would make those their first house. So I think maybe this cold version is their mask, but maybe their sun or moon is something  like a fire sign or even water? I'm not sure, because this is such a general reading that I'm probably reading for several people, so these are just small possibilities. It could just be that at this point in their life, this is how their energy is. Also, going back to hygeia, I think this person enjoys working out? Or just staying active. I think health is really important to them, or at least right now it is because bottom of the deck for the literary oracles is elixir, which can talk about health. You know what I just realized? That's not a dragon, its some sea creature, which I've gotten two new things from: the first is that that if they do like to stay active, I think they swim a lot or do a lot of water-related sports/activities. It could also be that water just really calms them down because water is a huge aspect of all the pictures on these cards. The second is that, remember how I said it looked like this "dragon" is guarding the cup in front of him? Like, that his heart is a bit closed off right now? Well, I also think that because this is some sea serpent that appears to be underwater (pretty deep too, judging by how dark the blue is in the background), so I think this person is keeping these feelings for you down deep. Like, deep down in their own ocean. So, like, they plan to tell you one day or at least they want to, but haven't been able to surface yet, if that makes sense? A few more things: The moon seems prominent some how. I didn't pull any cards that REALLY indicate the moon, but the hygeia card looks like the moon to me, but then the page of cups seems to have 6 moons too. So, 6 could be something important too. Maybe age difference? Month you met? Day you met? I'm not sure, something about this is important. Also, the moons can just kind of point out how there's still an unknown aspect to this, like they still are trying to figure you out but there's also stuff about them you don't know? So, if you do know who this is and you feel the same, you're asked to kind of wait for them to come around (NOT WAIT AROUND, I MEAN DON'T PUSH ANYTHING) but also that there's still some stuff you're unaware of. The color red is important too. When I first was shuffling I like saw it in my head but I didn't write about it because it just was like, "Oh, random" ya know? But now that I'm looking at the cards, I see it on the 1st house card and the King of Cups has some red that almost looks fiery. Also the page of cups has a red thread wrapped around their ankle, which, could be that maybe you're supposed to learn lessons from each other? Like, that red thread of fate? I'm not sure I can tell you if this person ever will make a move, but they want to some day. Another thing is that outside of red, I also think the colors green and blue are significant, like, maybe someone’s favorite color or something? So, basically this is someone who's healing after something. I don't think I got into what that could be, and honestly I don't really see what it could be with these cards. I think that's a message and it's that whatever it is, it's separate from you. Which is also why this person needs time to heal so that they don't bring it forward with them wherever they go, especially if that's to you. You know what's interesting? A few months ago I did a similar reading on who was crushing on people, and I definitely had a pile like this. So maybe you picked that pile and this is the same person and they're still healing? I'm not sure, I'll link that PAP here so that if you're curious to see if you get that pile you can read it. (here's that reading, it was pile 5) Music: Shameless - All Time Low Tokyo Hotel - Roadtrip Flowerchild - Citizen Intuition - The Backseat Lovers Pile 5: (Ross Poldark)

Cards:  Sun, Venus, Juno, Waning Gibbous Moon, Shirley Jackson (family) Alejandra Pizarnik (solitude), wolf, The Lovers, Nine of Pentacles, The Fool, and Page of Wands Pile 5, Your (I meant to put this, but it feels important to leave Your) person is trying to get over you. That's my first thought on this situation. Maybe, not really get over you, but maybe they think its best? I'm not sure if maybe they're thinking that it's kind of a futile thing or that maybe they don't think that they have a chance with you. So far in the shuffling process you guys have 2 extra cards, so I think this person talks a lot. Also, there are a lot of yellows and pinks I'm seeing with these cards. Tulips or roses may be of significance. This person might have a lot of earth or air in their chart. Like, I pulled the venus card, so they could be Libra or Taurus, but I also puled The Lovers and The Fool, so also maybe Gemini or Aquarius. I also think that their sun and venus placements might be important, like maybe they have them in signs that work well with your signs? With the Wolf card and the Alejandra Pizarnik (Solitude) card I definitely think this is someone who keeps to themselves. I don't really think they're an introvert (they could be) but with the sun and the venus cards I feel a definite sense that they're flirty lol. Like, I think they might not spend a lot of time with people, but they definitely can be charismatic? Also, I think its interesting that there are both the venus and the juno cards because venus is about love language and juno is also about relationships? I had a really weird 10 minutes where I spent a while trying to figure this out. First I thought maybe this was someone married or in a relationship who was into you or someone you once dated yourself? But, (and while that could be true, re: either versions), I don't think so. Even though I have cards like Juno, that means the partner, or Shirley Jackson which is a card about family/domestic life, I also have Wolf and Solitude and 9 of pentacles. Plus, with the lovers, I do think there's some genuine feelings here. I mean, it could also mean like, a choice this person has to make, but why not give me two of swords or another 2 card? Like, it could also mean that this person has a duality to them (so maybe they are really introverted but can be an extrovert when they need to be?). A weird thing is that I almost feel like telling you to look at the last pile (4) if you were drawn to it, because on the solitude card she's holding a heart that's broken and bleeding. So, maybe this person just went through a really bad break up (and maybe I'm getting weird mixed messages because maybe this is someone you thought was in a relationship, but has since left it? The spilled cup of tea/coffee on Shirley Jackson's card also suggests this to me - also the stain on the wall under the house.) I feel like, if you know who they are, you’re not sure what they’re up to. Maybe you’re in communication or something, but it’s surface level stuff right now? So, who they are as a person is that like I said, they could be both introverted and extroverted. Honestly, I think they're a complex person really. I think they may be romantic, but also maybe a flirt. I think they could be a really sunny person too, like this sun card is just really standing out to me. This could just mean that they're confident (I almost think that's like a definite with the fool card here), but it could also suggest that they have a big ego. The Waning Gibbous moon is about perfecting, so maybe they're perfecting something , like an aspect of them (taming their ego?), or a hobby or a job or just anything? Maybe they're a student and they're learning so that's what they're perfecting? I do think with the Lovers here, this could be them trying to perfect the balance within them, so maybe it's them balancing their emotions, or their confidence where they have a lot of it, but not to a detrimental point? And while I definitely associate this 9 of pentacles with their relationship status, just in the context of these cards, I also think this is like someone who's got their shit together, or at least working on that. I think they're stable financially, or their working on it/just about there. I think they're also independent and they don't rely on anyone. Maybe family is important to them and they are close to their family - and maybe because of that, they dream to have one, but right now they’re alone? I think with Juno there, maybe they see that you're someone that could fit into this idea though? Though, I do think they're still actively trying to get over you, so I still get that sense that they think this might never happen. I think the fool card suggests that they're willing to take risks. In the last pile, even though I said maybe you should read that one too if you're called to it, I said that possibly they're usually impulsive with connections with people, but that in that specific one, they weren't being impulsive. In this one, I do think it's not that they're impulsive per-say, but that they take risks. I almost see it more as calculated (which is funny because last pile got virgo and I'd definitely read that as calculated risk with the fool, but wasn't getting the vibe - this one I do). I definitely am seeing this with how this siren is kind of just waiting on this rock, studying something? Bottom of the deck for the astrological deck was Scorpio, so I think they like to observe people. So, maybe this siren on the fool card is observing before they make a move? I'm not sure why I still get the sense that they think this is futile...? Because I'd say the fool would eventually take the leap into the water, but I'm not seeing them do this. Then again, I did say they were perfecting something, so maybe its a waiting game until whatever this is gets perfected? Oh, I did just have a thought. I thought they were trying to move on from you but maybe they just went through a break up and its whoever they just broke up with? The lyrics I pulled for you are from Prehistoric by Now, Now: " I'll say that I've been trying to move on, we both know I'm not" - with, that one could literally be about you, maybe before they broke up, they felt guilty about having feelings for you (Because I almost wonder if this crush has overlapped within a relationship)? Or it's about the ex? It's going to differ for situations I think. The other was Divide by Tiger's Jaw "But it's too cold to walk home and I know I shouldn't call you". The song is about two people are into each other, and they can see it but they don't express it? It's almost as if they think its a bad idea to be together. I'm trying to figure out why they're trying to move on from you. Or if it is you... Something about this feels like I'm missing something? And I guess maybe that's a sign that you're not supposed to know everything about this person. That's another similarity to pile 4, they weren't really supposed to know either. So, I wonder if maybe this is also a reflection of you at this point in your life too? Maybe you're both learning on how to be yourselves and in order for anything to work between you two (if that's supposed to, but honestly with the lovers here I feel like maybe it is), you're supposed to learn how to be independent and what you want in life and a partner? One of the keywords for venus in the booklet is the Divine Feminine and as I started thinking about that, my ear started ringing. So, I think that one of you or both of you is supposed to get more in touch with the softer side of yourself. Like, the emotions? The bottom deck energy for the tarot is the Empress, so I do think there is something in that. Maybe both of you need to work on nurturing yourselves but also how to nurture others? Gonna be honest, this pile is really confusing me. It's so weird, I was getting stuff and getting stuff and now I feel like I'm hitting a wall. I'm going to try and pull a clarifier for the lyrics, because I think they're throwing me off the most. So, even the clarifier seems contradictory. It was page of wands, which normally I'd see that card as someone who's naïve and impulsive, kind of like the fool I guess. But, I think I'm seeing this now more as this person should be focusing on what makes them passionate, which very well could be you, but instead they're trying to let go. I think maybe they themselves are fighting this inside a lot. I'm going to stop reading this here, I think. I think this person has a lot to figure out, but I think you do too? I think this is a confusing situation where you both have feelings but someone wasn't available and now they're still not despite being single? I think whatever this is, it's going to take time. Sorry if this one seemed all over the place. I do think if you felt called to another pile you should try and check it out too because maybe it will give you more answers. But also, I need to remind you to take only what resonates. Do not try and make anything that doesn't fit, fit. I'm thinking it's so scattered because I think everyone is scattered? Like, I'm obviously reading for more than 2 people here, so I think its a bunch of confused individuals and I feel the need to really highlight the word Individual. So, my advice is to focus on yourself for now. I didn't give the other piles advice, but I feel the need to give it to you. Music: Divide - Tigers Jaw Prehistoric - Now, Now The 1 - Taylor Swift Pile 6: (Simon Basset)

Cards:  Book, Wings, Bees, King of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, The Hanged Man, Chiron, Waxing Crescent Moon, First Quarter Moon, Scorpio Wow. I'm pretty sure all 6 piles had some sort of scorpio mention, if not a scorpio-esque vibe. Either we're all attracting scorpios or its just some message for me that I'm ignoring. I'm going to read it like its not that!!! The tarot with this pile is really powerful to me. You got King of Swords, so someone who is really logical but knows how to use this logic to rule. This might be someone who maybe be higher up in their job? I wouldn't say its the CEO, but the fact that you also got King of Pentacles as the bottom deck energy, it very well may be? Or at least a manager of some sort. I also think because the bottom deck energy for the literary oracles is the eye, this is someone who holds a position over you? I think its like a watchful eye, they pay attention to you. But I think within this pile you may find answers to some questions you have? Another thing about that eye card is that for some reason when I saw it, I saw green eyes? So for some of you this person has green eyes. But I think that's for a limited few. You also have the Queen of Pentacles. The Queen of Pentacles is a nurturer, but she's also practical and grounded. So this person is both logical and grounded and to be honest that sounds like a double threat to me. I think with the hanged man, its kind of like the hermit in this sense. This person goes within a lot to think through things, but I think there's also that observational element from this and Scorpio, like they hang back and watch. That watchful eye again. This person loves to watch you. Like, I just keep thinking about that eye card and I don't know why. But, the hanged man can also talk about a pause. Perhaps this person is in a stagnant period within their life? Or they're on pause. I think whatever this pause is, it's not keeping them from from watching you. WHY DO I KEEP CIRCLING BACK TO THAT? I definitely think this person has some obsessive tendencies and I know that’s kind of a stereotype with scorpios, but because I keep thinking the words "watchful eye" i definitely think they're keeping tabs on you. Whether it be in person or on the internet. I don't get any particularly bad vibes from them, but I do think if they wanted to, they could be manipulative, so keep that in mind. The wings suggest that they're a very ambitious individual. So, if they haven't gotten to the top of their company yet and that's where they want to go, they will. Kind of like how I feel that once they set their eyes on someone, its only a matter of time before they make a move. I get that movement feeling with the wings and the bees too. Also, the wings could suggest someone that travels or likes to travel. Maybe they're also in constant movement. The king of swords is a griffon in this deck, so I definitely see a lot of movement with this person. The book for this deck says it can signify hope, so like the star card almost. I think they are hopeful about you, but I also read this as history. Maybe they like history (I'm thinking like renaissance period stuff if so, just based on the dress on the lady in the hanged man card?) or you both have a history with each other? Take what resonates, guys. And the bees can talk about teamwork, so maybe they just make a good partner, whether its within business or in love. But, I also could read this as work, so maybe this is a manager or boss of yours? Kind of scandalous to be honest lmao, I definitely get this forbidden feeling with this pile, I mean one of the songs is called Separate Rooms, so there's a sense of like...propriety here? The lyrics that I pulled from that song are "If you don't mind, I don't mind", so maybe its like, they don't quite mind that they think this might never happen or can't happen? I think maybe they'd say that for sure, but is that how they really feel? Or, possibly, they don’t mind the forbidden aspect of it (maybe its a turn on?). I do think they're into you for sure. I mean, obviously its' a reading on who has a crush on you, but the line from the other song I pulled, Honeypie by Love Fame Tragedy is "Some feelings go but most find their way back in", so I do think they try to not think about how they feel about you, and yet they always find that their thoughts come back to you? Especially if you work together, but it's like a fight they loose all the time. It just keeps happening. With the King of Swords I definitely see this person as more cerebral and even if they think less with their heart and more with their head, it doesn't mean that heart doesn't leak through. I bet its a battle within themselves daily, to be honest. With chiron, I think this person has a healing energy to them. There is also a bit of self-doubt, but I think we all experience that from time to time. They could also be healing themselves too? But I get that they're more of a healing energy. Bottom of the deck is New Moon, so I mean, they could be starting something new, which could maybe involve healing. I also pulled Waxing Crescent Moon, which can be about taking initiative. I think they're fairly action oriented, and I think both the King of Swords and the Queen of Pentacles (less so than the King of Swords, and slow movement with this card, but movement within this specific version) can say that too. I see those two as movers more than the Hanged Man, but again. I think they're in a period of stagnation, so I don't think they're doing a lot of action-oriented things right now. First Quarter Moon can talk about growth, so maybe this stagnant period is really them just growing? Like, maybe they're looking inward at their own faults and stuff like that. I feel like Chiron hints at that too. Like, they're gaining more knowledge about themselves and the world around them by going inward. Which, really, is the message of the hermit card, but it didn't come out. I think the Scorpio card also might factor into that healing energy as well as the one of growth. Scorpios are known for being all about transformation, which is what growth is. They also are a water sign, so I think there's a lot of emotions here, but I think they know how to transmute them healthily. It's interesting, because even though I get that this is kind of a forbidden connection (like I get that vibe), I think they sound like a good person to be around. Like, they almost give off a mentor vibe, and I like that. Even though they may be a little creepy and have their eye on you, I think they're also not a bad person to have around? I think they give good advice and I also think you can learn a lot from them, especially with the way I think they heal themselves. AHH. The bottom deck energy for the lyric deck was Good Together by Shallou and the first line in the song is “We couldn’t love from a distance” So! I think whatever this is, they can’t stand not being with you? Like, I think they want so badly to tell you how they feel but circumstances don’t allow for it. I didn’t even notice this until I was linking the song down below!! Though, the rest of the song is about how this person’s ex is falling for someone else now. So? I don’t know. That first line does really stick out to me, but maybe the rest of the song has something for you. Music: Honeypie - Love Fame Tragedy Separate Rooms - Now, Now Prehistoric - Now, Now Good Together - Shallou

#pick a pile #pick a card #tarot #tarot reading

[aclosetfan]

15 and No Problem, again,🙃

(ask game)

15 is eloquently titled "Pimped" (which is funny, so hold on). it's a semi-fake dating au b/c Buttercup and Bubbles aren't privy to the fake they are fake dating people (or even dating at all).

I've got a whole four sentences for the outline, but they aren't funny or descriptive, so I won't paste them in. It's not well thought out and needs a LOT of work. It's just one of those stories that live in my head.

oof this is again a no power au. I swear I have power-focused au's they just haven't been picked!!! If I wrote this out, I don't think it would be longer than five chapters.

Background:

The girls are in college. Blossom's going for some complicated science degree I haven't worked out yet. Bubbles is going for a bio degree with plans to go to vet school (with an art minor). Buttercup is Undecided atm b/c I have zero ideas what she'd go to school for outside of "wouldn't it be funny if Buttercup were a nurse?" (I usually see her in healthcare/emergency services/sports)

Plot:

Blossom's STRESSED. She's got three papers, one group project, two presentations, and a research assignment due by the end of the semester, and that's excluding the finals she has to study for!! Sure, sure, sure, she's got plenty of time, but that doesn't make her any less stressed. It certainly doesn't help that her sisters keep bugging her without an end! She wants one moment of peace so she can crank out her work, but they won't leave her alone!! At her wit's end, she is forced to resort to more...drastic measures to get her sisters to lay off.

There's a rumor--a really horrible one--that a guy on campus has the means to offer her sisters a "distraction." The biggest problem though is Blossom's savior is actually the bane of her existence and ex-lab partner, with who she may or may not have gotten into a physical altercation. (i.e Brick Jojo.) It takes an insane amount of money, the promise to complete two of his assignments for him, and her biochem outlines to acquire his help.

His help? What did Blossom pay for? lol his brothers. She pays them to "distract, date, I don't care, just keep them out of my hair!" her sisters. Usually, Brick sells his brothers off to desperate sorority girls who still need a date for their sorority Date Party or people trying to make their ex's jealous. Butch and Boomer go along with it because as a family they're poor as shit, and with Brick in school, they need all the extra cash they can get. Does the title make sense now?

Brick makes it clear that his brothers aren't for sex (but if it ends up like that, hey, not his problem). Blossom doesn't want them for that. She just needs them to distract her sisters long enough so they stop bugging her about "getting things to eat" or "getting enough sleep" or other pointless things along those lines while she's working on school stuff. When Brick's like "why don't you ask their friends??" Blossom's like, "because their friends will rat me out! And I can't have that! I need things to be discrete." Brick (a professional scam artist at this point) is like, "oof actually discretion is going to be an extra few meal swipes into the cafe." Which Blossom, who doesn't understand she's being suckered, is like "whatever it takes."

The majority of the story follows Boomer who's pissy he has to pretend to date someone AGAIN. He discovers that Bubbles is perfectly fine just having a friend around. She's a little odd, talks to the squirrel's on Brick's campus, and is way more adventurous than she looks. She can out-drink burly men at the bars, she thinks graffiti is cool and would like to give it a try with him, and is interested in learning more about drag racing. She pulls him into all sorts of odd, but very exciting happenstance, and before he knows it, he's developed a crush on the clientele! (and he's pretty sure his crush is reciprocated)

He doesn't ask Butch much about his experience, but he also doesn't see much of Butch after he starts hanging out with Bubbles because they're being paid to be discrete and need to keep the girls separated. Everything's going to plan. And no one's the wiser.

Until, ya know, we finally cut to Buttercup's pov. She knows exactly who these boys are because Blossom isn't the only one who pays attention to on-campus rumors. In fact, she's pretty sure she's even seen Butch at a few parties before grinding on half the female population. She doesn't know why this guy is hanging around her, but she's biding her time to find out.

Poor Butch has a harder time than Boomer does with Bubbles. It takes him forever to get her to even acknowledge his assistance (which is pissing off Blossom, which is, in turn, pissing off Brick). He almost has her convinced that he's not pulling her leg, but slips, after she admits she "may like him back too" and accidentally reveals the truth. Buttercup's pissed. She lays Butch out with a mean right hook and goes searching for Bubbles. When Bubbles find out, she also gives Boomer a black eye, and together the girls confront the reds (who are studying together by this point in the story). ("YOU PAID SOMEONE TO PRETEND TO LIKE US!" "Well, when you put it that way it sounds bad!")

Buttercup and Bubbles pull a hard cold shoulder on Blossom and the boys. And Blossom looks a Brick and goes, "you better fix this." Brick's like "sorry no refunds." She fucking decks him.

So, we end up with three brothers, who are all sporting an identical nasty black eye like, "maybe we should have thought this through?" Butch and Boomer go on strike--no more pimping them out (their little hearts are broken), and Brick's like "shit." He meets up with Blossom at one point, and together they try to figure out how to get into the good graces of their siblings once more. Meanwhile, Butch and Boomer hunt down BC and Bubbles to win their favor.

And because Idk how "winning their favor again" would exactly work, I'm ending this post here. The ending isn't clear yet, but I plan on making it happy :)

#funny sad #idk how to explain this but i want the vibe to be #eh writing this out now tho i can't say it's my fave #you win some you lose some #my outlines #my writing #ppg fic outlines #outline ask game #thanks for playing!

[jae-canikeepyou]

| muse | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: art student!jaehyun + art student!yn

a/n: thought this on a whim whilst reminiscing my art portfolio, so we’ll see how you’ll like this with yuno in it. not the best i’ve written but hope you enjoy reading 💞😉 ~j

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with jaehyun, there were three things that happened uncontrollably. one was he caused your heart to skip; two, your chest to feel all giddy; and three, your stomach to capsize. why you may ask? it was his very presence in the art academy which had heads turning and lips to whisper words of awe. he was labelled and called a prodigy.

be it in any medium of art, he was blessed to have such a talent that his parents thought it’d be a waste if not enhanced or put attention to. even your professors favored him and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t jealous. despite his princely looks, he could sometimes be a total snob. he’d be in a good mood the first hour and then changed completely in the next. oh the duality, you couldn’t understand him at all.

though question marks continued to fill your head, let’s just say you had a tad advantage compared to girls who were overly thirsting for him; he was your classmate, a major in fine arts. sometimes you unconsciously found yourself sniffing his perfume each time he helped you with the shading of portrait drawings you worked upon. he was that close. as much as you loved seeing him almost every day, you hated at the fact you still didn’t know the ways to calm your loving facial expression towards him.

it was a funny sight —at least to your friends— that they could see how elongated your nose grew every time you deny your feelings for him. yet as time passed the possibility of your admiration might turn into romantic feelings instead. there wasn’t a need to prove to you since your friends have pointed it out already.

but you yourself wasn’t too sure about it.

“please,” hyejin popped with a huge round of an eyeroll at your oblivion. legs crossed as she chewed her bubblegum. “y/n, admit that you like him. it isn’t that hard to say out loud.”

other students, including your studio tutor held in their giggles in the midst of the silence within the room. true enough hyejin was the mood maker.

her words made you stop painting the colours that were meant to accentuate the highlights of the subject. “i’m not like you who’s very expressive in words.” you replied, taking few peeks at your surroundings in case anyone eavesdrop.

hyejin wasn’t supposed to be in the studio today. she was a literature student where writing poetry was her forte. but because your tutor appreciated her effort to promote the visual arts department in the school paper, her going to the studio with you became a normal thing.

“it doesn’t have to be in words. like, i don’t know? paint some canvas and pour out your feelings through colours? yellow’s joy or purple’s dazzling or red is love-” she stopped as you gave her an annoyed gaze. “i’m sure he’ll get it. he’s not called a prodigy for nothing.”

“painting is not done on a whim, hyejin.” you emphasised, not noticing the stress put upon your work. “it takes time and thinking and creativ-”

“yeah yeah,” she made her bubble burst, which by the way irritated you since it gave off the impression that she wasn’t listening to you at all. “abstract seems so random though. no thinking there.”

you pointed the brush at her, yet careful enough that it doesn’t touch her nose. if another word comes from her mouth, you wouldn’t hesitate staining it. “sis, shapes are used instead of virtual reality, so abstract still needs thinking. you just express it differently.” hearing this, hyejin paused for a while before deciding which reaction to give, and with that you were satisfied into silencing her for a while. “now you know how i feel when i don’t understand shakespeare’s ‘love looks not with eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged cupid painted blind’.”

she let out a scoff, “pfft, you’re the cupid in that quote. you can’t even see that you like mr. prodigy so much.”

jaehyun gently opened the door and handed a paper slip to the tutor, which apparently was a doctor’s certificate. due to his arrival, hyejin elbowed you so hard that its force caused you to jolt in your seat then knocking two of the glassed jars placed on the narrow deck of your easel.

the tutor looked at your direction, and lowered his specs at the noise. flustered than you ever were in your entire life, you took the dust pan. you tried your best to not match eyes with jaehyun who was now smiling from second hand embarrassment. at farthest decibel your ears could handle, you could hear hyejin sneering with huffed laughs.

“i’m gonna kill you.” you mouthed from a table away and gave her a warning look. you gestured the phrase, followed by a scowl to refer her teasing tongue.

“i’ll help, y/n.” jaehyun offered, but you assured him it was fine. “what’re you working on?” he asked as you both walked back to the tables, he took out his tools and unfinished work.

this time was the season of cramming hours into a tight schedule, there were many initial stages/assignments due and portfolios to be completed. you guessed it was natural for you both to update each other regarding progress. “just giving more highlights and tweaks, then i’ll start on the portraits.”

he only pressed a smile, a breathy chuckle as a response while he focused on his art. “do you still need my help on shading?”

“i think i got the hang of it. thanks.” you damped the brush with water.

“alright, if you need me, i’m just here.”

your eyes shot down to your pockets, quickly answering the phone to quiet down the “supposedly” soundless vibration. and you wished you didn’t fished out the device if you knew that the message was from hyejin.

[18:45] hyejin: damn it y/n, confess already! 🤪

[18:45] you: if you could shut up maybe i will?? i could hear your voice haunting me 🙃

[18:46] hyejin: if there’s no progress today, i’m so gonna take action & tell him myself 😌

[18:47] you: ugh anything but that pls 😣

the thing with being associated with the arts was that time immediately had gone passed when you’re so concentrated. everything else faded away and in that momentum, it was just the art and you. jaehyun felt this once he picked up his brush or pencil. voices in his head whispered and guided him what to do with the creativity still yet to be shown in the world.

among all the students he bonded with, there was one whom perked his interest..

you.

as mentioned, his current surroundings blurred whilst he was sucked into another dimension of concentration. but you went there with him and appeared clear. seemed a scene out of an alternate reality in his perspective, or dramatic to some people. he was intrigued.

since knowing you, he expected to sought this mutual interest deeper. if he was the beautiful, detailed canvas everyone saw in an exhibition, you were the opposite; abstract, unpredictable and rough, someone who was overlooked because others couldn’t understand the depths and entirety of you.

finishing the last layer of the painting, you stretched to sooth the numbness. the professor reminded about the last few minutes before wrapping up the class and, he handed the room keys to you. for this tutorial, students have the choice to stay behind or leave. hyejin left with the others, leaving you alone with jaehyun. whether she did that on purpose, she’d do anything to let you be alone with him.

“oh? you’re done with yours?” jaehyun shifted sideways to take a better view of your work. he looked satisfied with the way his dimples hollowed. “hm. my advise is effective.”

“yeah, you’re a life saver.” you sighed as you looked at how completed the artwork was, then trailing your eyes to him again.

“i’m proud of you.” he winked, only to blush afterwards when his stomach growled. “i wish you didn’t hear that.”

coincidently, you tossed your wallet in the air. “good timing, i’m just about to head out to the cafeteria. want anything? my treat because you helped me.” you extolled with your mood in completely positivity. jaehyun became your inspiration and for now you weren’t able to bring yourself to tell him that.

hopefully soon though— when you have the courage.

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the sleepiness in your eyes only needed ten percent more to push your lids down, the queue was unexpectedly long at this hour. it was only until minutes later had you known that another department organised a party nearby. the wait for the order would be troublesome; that’d be in the fact there were girls right behind, their gaze burning into your skin as if you were an enemy of theirs. and somehow you knew,

they might be jaehyun’s admirers.

they whispered to each other, words audible enough for your hearing and you pretended to be listening to music.

and how you wished you should’ve.

“do you know why jaehyun took fine arts?” one asked.

an intrigued response caught you walking on a tight rope. this can’t be good. “sounds like you know the reason.”

“it’s been spreading around recently..” there was a pause that had you wondering even if you knew you shouldn’t believe in any of rumours from them. “i heard the studio has this session to draw the human body and the figures. like y’know.. no clothes?”

sigh, there wasn’t even any classes for those this semester, you thought.

few giggles were heard before they spoke again. “you’re saying he’s perverted?”

“maybe? i wouldn’t be surprised if it were true.”

“isn’t that kinda hot? his eyes starting into-”

you nearly dropped jaehyun’s food and trip over an extension wire hearing that. breathing slowly and steadily, you convinced yourself that what you heard was false. he wasn’t the type of guy they assumed he was.

as much as you wanted to prove them wrong, it wasn’t your place to speak out when the friendship you have with him was not to the level of best friends. so you rushed back to the studio, not noticing your blown-away hair and burning face. what was amusing after hearing the tea, you didn’t know why you reacted in that manner. did you leave because you couldn’t stand eavesdropping any longer? or did you run due to the fact the fantasies they had were about to enter your mind?

the door was opened with a force that jaehyun looked up from his work, smiling at your quick purchase. “whoa careful there. you didn’t have to run.” he chuckled and went to your table. he took his favourite spicy cake and placed it on top heavily. the force he exerted with his hands was the total opposite to when he dealt with art. somewhere in you, you’d say it was a 0.1 percent a turn-off.

“hey, it’s food. handle with care, it’s a blessing.” you said, munching on your share of the dishes.

jaehyun clasped his palms together, bowed his head and closed his eyes. he faced you and you sat there with a confused look. “thank you y/n, you’re an angel for treating me.”

soon after, you received a message from your professor about taking out some of the tools needed for tomorrow. holding the sandwich wrap between your lips, you took a closer look at the right keys before unlocking the storage room, opening the door afterwards.

it was at least the size of two toilet cubicles, not even close to a room’s walk-in closet. the thin cabinets against both sides of the wall were two feet, and the remaining space in the middle could fit a person’s leg, stretched out. the new set of canvases were placed on the top shelf. for someone like you, it wasn’t possible to reach them on tiptoes. you grabbed a chair and stacked two tins of paint for your feet to stand upon.

if you still couldn’t reach them.. eh, bummer. disturbing jaehyun who was enjoying his meal would be rude. you weren’t that type of person to suddenly feel as if you were already close to someone. the icky and dusty feeling on your fingertips nearly had you gagging.

“jaehyun?” you called out, apparently you’ve given up in trying another attempt. “i need a hand.”

there was a long pause as to why he didn’t respond immediately. maybe you should’ve have disturbed him? but you soon rolled your eyes when a mannequin’s hand was thrown to you. his snickers was supposedly an adorable thing to hear, this kind of wasn’t, because you desperately needed help now. “jeong jaehyun!”

he hummed right after you mentioned his name the second time. “i’m just messing around. but does that mean you’ll treat me again? i helped you.” his voice sounding with excitement.

you nodded, your anger long forgotten but he could tell there was conflict in your head. “i’ll consider it, so help me before i smack you with this plastic hand.” your tone slightly straining since you didn’t feel him entering the room.

“yeah. coming.” he said, giggling at your impatience. as you tried to reach out for the canvases again, the light behind you slowly dimmed.

that was weird. “hey, it’s getting dark in here.” you said.

before he could say anything, the door slowly closed and that made you raise a brow. he noticed this too and looked into your eyes when the light within the room soon disappeared. “ah sorry, i must’ve kicked the door stopper.” even in the dark, you could tell he was flustered from his actions. “i’ll open it.”

however his groans and vigorous sounds from the door knob stated otherwise. “what?” you heard him raise his voice.

“what’s wrong?” you hopped off the tins and grabbed the knob, twisting it clockwise then anti-clockwise. “it’s jammed.”

you both panicked because the night wasn’t getting any younger. there were things to finish and deadlines were drawing closer. before, you thought of procrastinating even when necessary. but procrastinating like this wasn’t part of the plan.

how was it possible for the knob to be jammed? the door wasn’t closed in an impact that would cause its components to be broken. sure jaehyun was reckless and couldn’t control his strength but that really wasn’t the issue here.

the actual issue was that you were going be stuck with him for who knows until when. stuck in a sense there were just enough space for two people. jaehyun fumbled his pockets in search of his phone, an annoyed groan told you it was bad news. “call someone. my battery just died and my powerbank’s outside.”

quickly you fished out your phone, only to find that it had the same fate. “ugh i have 10% left.” you slumped your sides to the shelves like there was no hope. “i’ll try to text hyejin.”

“hm i hope she’s not too far from the campus.” jaehyun leaned against the shelves opposite from you, his expression definitely amused with your reaction. a scoff of disbelief escaped your dry lips, sliding the phone to the shelf as you put your hair on one side. “that doesn’t sound good. what did she say?”

for all the things hyejin could do to help you get out of there, she’d rather sit and tease every single nerve of your body. “she said ‘you both just made your own seven minutes in heaven! i’m laughing out loud right now.’”

and for the things you thought jaehyun would disagree with your friend, he didn’t. it surprised you when his held-in giggles came bursting out from his chest. “it’s exciting. don’t you think?” he chuckled. “this is something you see in movies.”

“okay. tell me, what’s exciting about being locked-”

“we can ask each other questions. or any topic you’d like to talk about. i wanna know more about you.” he suggested, shutting you up because if he didn’t, you’d be quite a complainer. jaehyun bent to a squat, later stretching his legs until the soles reached the sides of your hips. “i rarely get the chance to talk to you properly and i guess this is the day, so scoot over.” he gestured you to move aside a little.

“gee i wonder why?” your voice came out sarcastically. “i don’t ignore people unlike a certain someone.”

“just sit down, will you?” jaehyun seemed to take the fact to heart.

you complied and sat exact the same as he did. the tiled floor sent cool to your legs but it didn’t really matter. jaehyun began by asking how you got into art; what motivated you to choose this field. “it’s just a childhood dream of mine to keep expanding my creativity. i wanna teach kids the joy in paint, that we’re not limited to using tools. i started painting with my hands and fingers when i was five.”

“really? i’m the same, except i was three when i painted.” his dimples deepening.

though you did answer him, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the whole story. you were just par in the arts, an average joe and always felt like your professors tied your wings together to express what you really wanted. every proposal you presented were rejected. if lucky, it still wasn’t good enough. not enough to reach jaehyun’s standards and world.

his shoes hit your hips again, the nudges were light and made you look to him. “your turn.” he said.

your eyes wander the dark room, the thin light from the sides of the door showing the outline of his face. “is it good? being called something you never wanted to be? did you know you’re gifted as a kid?”

“do you want my honest opinion?” he brought one leg to his chest, forearm resting on it as he start to ponder. hearing the soft shuffles from you in agreement, he gulped his dry throat to say the one thing he longed to say.

“i don’t like it.”

beyond speechless. you thought maybe he’d like the feeling of being center of attraction, or praised to have a skill that was out of this world. while you’d like to know what it felt like, it already told you enough that he wouldn’t want to be referred to as a prodigy. “not even a single bit?” alarmed, you squinted your eyes and he shook his head.

“i used to like it at first.. now i don’t,” jaehyun admitted but his face had changed the moment you asked him the one thing he never wanted to look back. “..because i was set apart from kids my age and they view me differently, nor have they ever treated me like every kid in the block.“

he continued how parents would tell him he was ‘inspiring’ or ‘i wish i had a kid like you; dedicated, and talented’. the claim have made him proud, yet this caused insecurity to most of his friends, and they distanced themselves from him. what was once the same ground they stood upon, it had quaked the earth and caused a wide gap. jaehyun hated the feeling of isolation by the will of others. though he had tried many times to reach out to them..

the gap continued to widen.

“there’s not much of a difference now.” he whispered yet audible enough for you to hear. ”i still have less friends. countable with fingers.. on one hand.”

probably the reason why he looked like a snob then.

“i see. so am i?.. part of your ‘friends’?” he heard you ask when reality hits you that you shouldn’t have said your thoughts out loud. closing your eyes for a bit, you heard the shift in his weight, he didn’t answer right away. it was as if he was still finding the words.

but he sat right beside you. “you’re already one when we both entered this classroom. i had a hunch you’ll be one i’ll treasure.”

if anyone was told the way he did just now, it would definitely make them smile. that was his honest opinion and you couldn’t help but smile at his words. he seemed to notice this too and let out a chuckle that was always music to your ears. “should we try to open the door again?” you changed the topic to avoid the awkward smile creeping your face. your hands gripped the knob and jaehyun tugged the hems of your jeans.

“y/n, if you do it further we’ll be damned if hyejin couldn’t open from the outside.” he stood that he was already behind you. “i’m not stopping you from trying though.”

“f-fine.” you leaned against the door, soothing your legs that experienced paresthesia. jaehyun pat your head like he always did whenever you unintentionally embarrass yourself, be it art or not whatsoever. “i just can’t seem to stay still.” oh gosh i don’t know what i’d do if i’m alone with him.

“yeah clearly.” he shrugged.

you had a scowled face and glad he didn’t see it. “the place’s so cramped-” you continued, walking to the chair you once stood on, only to lose balance when the shelves you held for support gave in to collapse from the weight it carried. with weight, the whole furniture wobbled to fall.

in a split second you felt yourself being lifted off the ground, a strong arm wrapping around your frame and saw yourself at the opposing side of the room. jaehyun closed into you as he managed to stop the some items from falling. the entire body of the cabinet covered and trapped you both in a tight place. the furniture tilted right behind him. one small move, the items could injure two and he didn’t want to risk that.

he could feel your breath touch his shirt and with the way you held his clothes, you definitely didn’t see this coming. “are you okay?” he thought there was a possibility of squishing you.

“uncomfortable, but i’ll manage.. somehow.” you honestly replied because there was no point in lying to him.. physically speaking, he’d know what you feel since he himself was also in discomfort. anyway, with your answer, this marked the third silence as there was another one creating yet another gap in the conversation.

okay y/n. you told yourself. you made everything awkward than before. first was you asked whether you were friends, which you already were. second was your stupid and careless behaviour that led to the position you’re both in now.

“what about you?” you asked after seeing the huge frame towering over both of your bodies, mostly onto his. so maybe that was another unnecessary question to ask.

jaehyun gulped and fixed his one of his palms that he gripped on the shelf behind you. you could see his adam’s apple move up and down, struggling to breathe. he pushed backwards to be able to see your face. tilting his head down, that movement alone made you look up. “uncomfortable, but i’ll somehow manage.” he smiled even though you knew he wasn’t.

“you know you’ll earn zero marks if you copy my answer.” you giggled, remembering the professor’s words at the beginning of the semester.

he flicked your forehead as he agreed with the obvious statement. “i heard him. anyway, it’s my turn to ask.”

“are we really playing the game now? can we at least try to figure how to get out of this position?” you began to whine and threw your head back where you hit your head, and you didn’t care how shameful you felt. you knew you wouldn’t stand any longer, your legs started to weaken because of stress— stress from everything jaehyun managed to make you feel, that included the little smiles and especially his hand around your waist.

jaehyun didn’t know why he put his palms behind your head before the incident happened but he knew he had to, with the way you flustered so much. he figured that you weren’t used to situations like these.

however a memory slipped into his mind that you were always your usual self with other guys around. he noticed how you held or hiccuped a breath whenever you both conversed. you and him weren’t particularly close to begin with, just enough to pass as friends and maybe it was his love for art that brought that gap closer to you.

right now? perhaps too close. literally.

“why not? it gets more fun.” he tried to hide the smile creeping his lips; at the sight of how irritated you were beneath him and he actually considered your plead to get you both to safety. but maybe he’d like to enjoy a little bit before doing so. “besides, there’s no way we can move properly with a lot of things blocking our surroundings.”

on both sides, the two of you were encased with large items and materials that were affected by the impact. “tsk.” you tilted your head to avoid looking at him. “at least try to push the huge cabinet?”

he did as he was told and from the grunts and exhausted voice, jaehyun gave up trying. “i don’t think i can. something’s probably caught in the gap between the wall and the furniture.” he tried to look over his shoulder to see if he was right.

“i thought prodigies don’t give up.” your voice sounded challenging to him.

“within the spectrum of our skill, we don’t. but outside our gift, we have the choice to.” jaehyun flicked your forehead again. “we get tired too.”

there was less force against your torso, he was trying to push the furniture again and you bubbled out a giggle. “wow you aren’t as cool as i thought you were.”

jaehyun wanted to hit you as you were being too playful at the wrong time. but as he brought his hand up, you closed your eyes shut to brace for the sharp impact. he sighed and his stomach growled in the most embarrassing way yet. “ugh, it’s because i haven’t eaten enough. i don’t have any strength left.” his stomach then growled louder.

maybe it was due to your bodies against each other’s and the heat starting to roam around the room. jaehyun clicked his tongue at the continuous mimicking of yours. “c’mon y/n i can’t be the only one doing the work here. help me push this heavy thing behind me.”

“uh no? do you think i could even help? don’t make me uncomfortable than i’m already am.” you moaned at the pain starting to grow along your spine. arching your back to avoid the discomfort from the shelves wasn’t really a good idea.

“ah you’re uncomfortable?” he implored with a smirk, his voice quite menacing as he leaned in to squeeze you between the cabinet behind you and himself.

for the whole time jaehyun knew that you didn’t mean whatever you said. he loved how you surprise him everyday and tonight he found you quite cheeky, and adorable too. by quite, it meant that you were like a child wanting to go home. a huff from him felt like the gust of wind. “‘i don’t have any strength left’.” you copied his words. seeing his lips pout, it was alright to give in. “will you treat me food if i help?” you returned the question because you treated him.

“you’re lucky you’re cute.” he suddenly said, with a soft chuckle, you knew he was smiling. it had gotten you speechless that it was hard to tell whether he said knowingly or not. “we can buy what the other wants after we get out of here, okay?” his attempt to get the wood off him yet again failed.

you clapped your hands quite hyperactively and squealed as if he asked you out on a date. “oh yay! okay. i wouldn’t want to be rained on for another hour anyway.” you teased, in which he exhaled heavily from his nostrils.

“i’m not that sweaty.” he grumbled, almost vibrating with the exertion of his energy.

“just perspiring.” you added.

he hit your head with his, for sure you’ll have a prominent bruise and that would make you a victim for hyejin for the next few days. or tonight, if she would get you both out. “that’s the same meaning.”

it took less than two minutes to take the weight off his back. jaehyun saw everything in slow motion— he was falling backwards and you, frontwards. “whoa!” for a moment you thought you hit yourself on a wall. that was for a brief second before the impact was replaced by a warm hug.

you checked if he was okay, he became your safe fall and again he saved you when you didn’t ask for it. “i didn’t expect.. i’m sorry.” you pressed your lips realising you were in between his legs.

he hissed at the pain and sat tiredly on the floor, using all of the fabrics of his clothes to wipe the sweat. “it’s okay.” he patted your back.

“right.. this is awkward. i better get off..” you chuckled and dusted your clothes awkwardly but what he said next really caught you off guard.

“do you want to do it?” he queried, taking you back as your head shot up and hit his chin with your forehead.

you blinked several times. “d-do what?” is this another question i won’t be able to answer?

there was a shaky grip on your waist, your heart hammered and you were afraid that he would hear it. “y’know what i’m talking about.” he put the hair strands away so he would be able to see your face under the lines of slim light.

“i don’t?” you choked on your own saliva. what was he talking about?

jaehyun’s breath made you freeze on the spot, along sudden silence. he giggled softly. “such a waste, you even have a perfect body.”

then the conversation from the two girls at the cafeteria entered your mind right when you thought deep. hold on, the rumours can’t be true..

he stood up shortly, cornering you by the door and the lights revealed his eyes, smiling shyly. “you have perfect proportions.” as of now, you were a little nervous. you couldn’t process what you were hearing from your crush’s lips and looked away where you could see hyejin’s figure closing the studio’s door.

finally hyejin’s here. i have to tell him. “uh jaehyu-”

“can you be my model?” he held your hands.

oh shoot it is true?

“i need someone to pose for my next art portrait and you’re the only one i can ask.”

‘well aren’t you quite the deep thinker~’ you could imagine hyejin’s voice telling you off at the back of your mind. you shook your head and shut your eyes for her imaginary presence to go away, making you miss seeing jaehyun’s expression turn to a small pout.

suddenly you felt like your soul left your body. what were you thinking y/n?! erase the thought! cleanse your mind from what you heard from the girls!

now you stopped being an embarrassment, you looked at him. however, before you could answer, the door swung open, causing you both to fall over and adjust to the lights above you. hyejin looked down at the two of you, her bubblegum popping with brows raised. “girl, i texted you back and said i’m opening the door. didn’t you see- oh, did i come at the wrong time?”

jaehyun quickly got on his toes, ears turning red while you covered your face in embarrassment. “this is a misunderstanding hyejin!” he stuttered and fixed his collar. you dug for your phone to check the message, but it died long before.

she blew another bubble and popped. “mhm, i can see that.” she winked at the both of you and turned to leave.

“hyejin!” you whined and clung on her legs.

“i’m leaving!” she singsonged and shook her ankles like you were a bug. “i’m giving you more alone time with your muse!”

“oh my g- you!” you chased her down. “quiet!”

she laughed cheekily and managed to exit the studio, sticking out her tongue and pointed behind you. ‘walk home with him!’ hyejin mouthed, and you couldn’t be more annoyed with her because that was indeed true. what was once a wishful thinking became reality. she knew you more than you did yourself.

as you sighed heavily, it got you hitching a breath that jaehyun might’ve heard and saw the whole thing. you turned around and he was packing his stuff, yours included. the artworks were left untouched since you both would be back here tomorrow. he gave your bag and you chose to not talk because you didn’t have the audacity to do. “so, uh. what were you saying earlier?” you hoped he would forget what he just saw.

“oh y-yeah. lemme just-” he took a deep breath and looked into your eyes. “..rephrase it- wait i’m your muse?”

of course he wouldn’t forget, it just happened. damn you, hyejin! you slouched on a nearby chair and wore your hood. “i was hoping you wouldn’t find out so soon.”

“i’m flattered. thanks.” his dimples hollowed. “i was asking if you could be my reference for my next art piece..” he trailed off recalling that you declined. “..though you shook your head quickly than i thought.”

“huh i did?” your voice affirming. “oh gosh i think i did.. i’m sorry i was hearing hyejin in my head when you said that.”

jaehyun’s eyes widened when all he heard was pure honesty from you. “so will you do it for me?”

“as long as i wear clothes while at it.” you consented with your arms crossed and began to feel heat spread your whole body at the thought of the rumour.

walking along the hallway, only the sounds of shoes grazing the carpet echoed the area. you didn’t know what else to say. he brought you to the nearest convenient store where the campus’ one was closed at the hour. the food you bought turned cold and you couldn’t afford to get sick because of it.

he pulled the chair for you to sit on. “you heard them as well.” he placed his bag down. he was aware of the rumours found around and was shocked to know you knew them too. “they’re not true.”

you propped your chin as he went back to the topic. “i know.” you agreed to his words. “they don’t describe you at all.”

jaehyun sat comfortably, a smirk appearing. “me being your muse fits the description-”

this guy.. “please don’t bring that up.” you pleaded with hands clasped.

“i’m teasing.” he chuckled. “i don’t mind if you refuse want to be my model.” he said. “but i assure i’m not like other artists who paints their naked model. i have a better plan for you.”

he was trying to convince you into his world and you were slowly getting into it. “that’s like saying you really want me to.” you took your wallet and he followed suit.

“what’s wrong with wanting to paint my new muse?” he slid his chair closer to the table; closer so he could see your reactions to his honesty.

when he said that, you never turned away so fast in your life. your chest never thumped so loudly and your eyes fluttered while he continued to press onto his question. 

an assuring smile showed on your lips and he mirrored it, already knowing your response. “nope, nothing wrong at all.” you shyly accepted his request.

jaehyun then stood to get the orders, his fingers warning you that the late dinner would be on him. your heart experienced blossoms and giddiness you hoped it’d stay forever. who knows? maybe being each other’s muse could turn into something more after tonight.  

#nct 127 #jaehyun oneshot #jung jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun writings #jaehyun au #jaehyun fluff #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #nct #jaehyun nct #jaehyun x reader

[angrylizardjacket]

dirtbags // 1: Charlotte

Summary: Motley Crue High School AU with The Pack (Lola, Charlotte, Peach, & Eileen); Winter, 1984. Charlotte’s halfway through her Junior year of High School when Lola arrives in town, and becomes a part of Charlotte’s life almost by accident. 

Tommy seems to fall for any girl he hasn’t grown up with, Nikki and Charlotte are in agreement that their friendship becoming public knowledge would be social suicide for them both, Vince is a tool, and Eileen is still mad at him for what happened over Summer. 

A/N: 8829 words. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @misscharlottelee this has literally been in the works for what’s felt like a year, but i decided that i can’t keep putting it off forever, so here. part 1. i think im going to try and put these out weekly?? maybe sooner?? but i adore you and i of course absolutely adore @josaphinebaker so i’m glad to finally let you all enjoy the long-awaited, multi-part HS AU (me, not posting writing for months: AND WHAT’S THIS? THE HS AU WITH A STEEL CHAIR --) ft. a softer world quotes

who said life can’t be an adventure? because whoever said that is probably the villain.

There’s a place for everything, and everything has it’s place. That’s they way the world works, at least, that’s the motto the rest of the cheerleading team seems to adhere to almost religiously. Charlotte, who’s been on the team for almost a full year and a half, since the start of her Sophmore year, can’t see the world so black and white. It’s not that she signed up to be a Cheerleader to fulfil some bitchy, blonde stereotype, it’s more that she had free time to fill and thought it would be fun. It took her a few months to find her footing once she’d been offered a place on the team, and was quickly thrust into her school’s the social spotlight, but she managed in the end, and had been managing ever since, mostly.

“Charlie, you’re so lucky,” Tommy, her cousin, lamented to her, driving her home after cheer practice, and marching band, had finished for the day. He was still in his uniform, as was Charlotte, and she gave him a sidelong glance, picking at the nail polish on her thumb. She doesn’t even give him an answer; ever since she’d joined the team, he had felt the need to wax poetic about the other cheerleaders and their uniforms. It’s so familiar that she doesn’t even need to prompt him into mooning over seeing Pamela in the cafeteria that day.

“She’s never going to date you if you don’t talk to her,” Charlotte’s smile is sly as her gaze slides back to the road, and the sun drifting towards the horizon.

“If Pam ever found out I’d looked at her, she’d probably just spit on me, call me pathetic or some shit,” Tommy’s eyeroll is implied by the flatness of his tone, but Charlotte can’t help but laugh.

“Oh Tommy, everyone looks at Pam,” she reminds him, and Tommy lets out an annoyed whine.

“I know,” he groans, clearly not cheered by that fact, feeling ever the more hopeless, and they fall into silence. Charlotte reaches down beside her seat and lifts a lever, pushing the seat back so she could comfortably rest her feet on his dashboard.

“Did you hear someone finally bought the MacCready burger joint? Dad was talking about it yesterday,” Tommy says mildly, making a left-hand turn onto their street. Charlotte raises her eyebrows, intrigued, but doesn’t speak. Tommy knows her well enough to take her silence as an invitation to go on, “Mrs Mac is going into hospice care and apparently some guy bought it and moved into town.”

“Oh shit, poor Mrs Mac,” Charlotte muses, and crosses her ankles on the dash, “hopefully their food is edible now.”

“Their burgers were great!” Tommy protested loudly.

“Their burgers were trash, Tommy! You’re just a rat -!”

“I’m not a rat!” He argues back, pulling into the gas station around the corner from their house. Tommy pulls up beside one of the pumps, and Charlotte gets out to browse the various snacks on offer inside the service station.

“Afternoon, Mick,” Charlotte calls out to the gas station attendant, the guy who’s been working here since he was fourteen, who’s currently got an electrical apprenticeship every other day. Charlotte realizes she might know too much about him considering he barely communicates in grunts most of the time. It’s not that he can’t speak, it’s just that he has a well documented dislike of her over exuberant cousin.

As expected, Mick doesn’t look up from his copy of Rolling Stone behind the counter, but makes a noise of acknowledgement.

Before Tommy has finished filling the tank, an unfamiliar figure enters the gas station, breezing past Charlotte and snatching up a packet of pork rinds, moving to the drinks fridge and taking a can of lemonade. The person is a young woman, though Charlotte doesn’t get a good look at her face; she’s got silky, black hair down to the small of her back, beneath a backwards baseball cap, and she’s the most notable of her clothes are her scuffed, black boots, and her oversized, black denim jacket littered with patches and pins. 

When she puts her items on the counter in front of Mick, she pauses, frowning at the display, and Tommy enters the shop with an oblivious smile, asking if Charlotte had decided on anything.

“Can I help you?” Mick asks flatly, and the girl holds up a single finger, the universal signal for wait, and Mick huffs, but remains quiet. The girl adds a packet of gum to her haul, and leans her elbows on the counter.

“And a pack of Marlboros.”

Mick scowls.

“How old are you?”

“Are you being paid enough to care?” She responds, voice a low, challenging alto, and after a moment of deliberation, Mick actually shrugs, and turns to the cigarette display, picking out a pack for her as she pulled a few bills from her back pocket. After everything’s paid for, and the various food and drink had been stashed in the numerous pockets of her jacket, the girl is quick to open the cigarettes. 

“They’re for my dad,” she explains, taking one out and putting it between her lips, grinning, “mostly.”

She passes a bewildered Tommy and Charlotte on the way out, giving them a flat look over, eyebrow raising minutely at the sight of Charlotte’s cheerleading uniform, but she’s quickly out the door. Tommy, flabbergasted at her display of confidence, marches straight up to counter and leans on it like he’d seen the woman do.

“A pack of -”

“Fuck off,” Mick tells him, before Tommy even finishes his sentence. Charlotte snorts a laugh, approaching the counter with a bottle of diet coke. 

“Fifteen bucks on pump three,” Tommy sighs, pulling out his wallet, “and Charlie’s drink.”

“Do you know her, Mick?” Charlotte asks, still smiling, mind playing over the interaction.

“Do I look like I know her?” Mick grumbles, counting the handful of quarters Tommy had passed him with a ten dollar bill. Tommy, however, has never in his life taken Mick’s constant foul mood to heart, even when he probably should.

“He loves me, secretly, I know he does,” Tommy grinned when they were back in the car, heading to Charlotte’s house to drop her off, “we’ve known each other for five years, we’ll be friends any day now.”

“Tommy, he’s three days away from just decking you when you go to pay.”

“Which is a step up from when you said he’d throw me in front of traffic,” Tommy, ever the optimistic dumbass, chooses to look on the bright side. Tommy wears his affection on his sleeve, and seems to find himself trying to befriend anyone who would sooner fight him, if his hero-worship of local punk Nikki Sixx is anything to go by. It’s with a painful clarity that Charlotte realizes if he ever meets the girl from the gas station, he’s going to fall in love with her almost immediately.

Which makes Charlotte’s accidental and secret friendship with Nikki Sixx awkward.

“Oh Miss Lee,” Nikki whistles at her the following morning, wearing a grin that’s all teeth, “you know just what a guy likes to see on a Thursday morning.” He’s leering at her, leaning on the mesh of the fence, fingers hooked into the metal as he presses himself against it, his gaze trained on the pleat of her cheer uniform split upon her thigh over her tights.

“Every time you speak, I consider vehicular homicide,” Charlotte tells him with a sigh, straightening out her skirt, already resigned to the fact the rest of her free period was about to be co-opted. 

“Then I’m glad you can’t drive,” Nikki’s still grinning, throwing his bag over the fence, into the garden Charlotte had thought was peaceful enough to study in.

“It’s the only thing keeping you alive,” she says, plastering a fake, sweet smile on her face, closing her biology textbook as Nikki vaults the fence a few feet away from her. She pulls her jacket a little tighter around herself, in an attempt to ward off the slight chill of the end of semester air.

Never in Charlotte’s life would she have intentionally tried to befriend Nikki Sixx. How was she supposed to know that two of her free periods coincided with when he liked to show up to school? And that the secluded garden area out behind the library where she liked to study in said free periods was the easiest place to sneak in? 

She’s threatened to turn him in more times than he can remember, and he spits back that she should just find a new place to study, but she keeps showing up, and she never turns him in, and by now most of Nikki’s flirting is harmless.

They were both very much of the opinion that having a public friendship would be bad for the both of them; Nikki’s got more than a reputation of his own, both because his name technically isn’t Nikki, but he fights anyone who calls him Frank, and because he’s kind of a slut. Also there’s still an unconfirmed rumour about him being expelled from his first high school back in Seattle, since he’d joined their school a semester in Freshman year. Everyone’s too afraid to ask. Charlotte knows the cheerleaders aren’t above making hell for one of their own if they were caught fraternizing with someone like him. 

That being said, Nikki had made it very clear that he’d rather saw off his arm than admit that they were even acquaintances, scoffing about how he’d lose any and all street cred he’d ever had if his friends found out he was hanging around Miss Everyone’s Best Friend Charlotte Lee. At the time, she’d taken offence to his tone, but she quickly came to learn that that’s just how Nikki is sometimes.

He offers her a cigarette from the pack in his pocket like he always does, sitting opposite her on the picnic bench instead of going to class, his bag still on the grass where he’d thrown it. Like always, Charlotte turns it down, but it does remind her-

“Saw a girl yesterday at Mick’s gas station that reminded me of you,” Charlotte flips to the back page of her notebook, which was already littered with little drawings, and starts scribbling idly.

“She hot?”

“I guess?” Charlotte says after a moment of consideration, “didn’t get to see her long enough to really be able to tell.” Nikki hums thoughtfully, and Charlotte, without looking up, “she asked Mick for cigarettes and he was like ‘how old are you?’ and she was like ‘are you being paid enough to care?’“ 

Nikki takes a long draft from his own cigarette, and kindly turns to the side to blow smoke into the wind, instead of directly into Charlotte’s face, as he used to do, or like he does when he’s annoyed.

“Mick would have mad respect for a move like that,” Nikki snorts, and when Charlotte looks up from her notebook, she sees him looking off into the distance, giving a genuine smile at the mental image. Maybe this is why she puts up with him, these rare genuine moments. He raises the cigarette to his lips again, and looks back at her, eyebrows raised, as if prompting her to go on. Charlotte looks back at her notebook.

“It inspired Tommy to try and buy smokes too, but Mick shut him down fast; I swear, if we show up when he’s clocking off, he’s going to K.O Tommy the first chance he gets.”

“Which is a step up from when you said he’d throw him in front of traffic,” Nikki notes, and Charlotte pauses, frowning. She hadn’t realised her hyperbolic threats on Mick’s behalf were a standard unit of measurement for how much he did or didn’t like her cousin. They were bullshit! Why did anyone take them seriously? Charlotte’s often astounded at her own credibility, and how much people tend to take her at her word without question.

“What’s she look like?” Nikki asks, flicking his ash into the grass, bringing Charlotte out of her thoughts.

“Who?”

“The girl from the gas station.”

“Oh,” Charlotte pauses, thinking, finally settling on, “she was wearing heaps of dark shit, had black hair, maybe that’s why I thought of you. I don’t know who she is though, didn’t recognize her from anywhere.” She adds, and Nikki hums thoughtfully, nodding. With his free hand, he snatches her pen out of her grip, despite her yelp of protest, and begins doodling pentagrams on the back cover of her notebook. 

“You free tomorrow night?”

“I’d rather die than date you.”

“Charlie, you’re not my type -”

“Nikki, your type is tits and a heartbeat.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d fuck you, but I’d rather be castrated than date you,” Nikki responds flatly, and Charlotte quickly shuts up, scowling, “but my band has a gig at a place that doesn’t card, so if you and that overgrown Labrador you call a cousin can sneak away from mommy and daddy for the night, you’re more than welcome to come party with the big kids.” He smirked, flicking Charlotte’s pen back at her. Charlotte’s annoyance has simmered down at his offer, considering his words. 

“Nikki Sixx inviting me to see his band,” she mused, sly smile curling at the corners of her lips, mischief glinting in her eyes, “you like me, don’t you? You like Miss Everyone’s Best Friend. Soon I’m going to be your best friend too!” At least she was self aware enough about her people-pleasing tendencies to poke fun at his scorn.

“I like that you’re cousin’s obsessed with me, so bring him too,” Nikki’s quick to correct, but his heart’s not fully in it, if the smile he’s failing to repress is anything to go by, “I’m just in it for the ego trip, sweetheart.”

Charlotte gags at the pet name; the bell rings.

“She smells like an ash tray,” is the first thing Charlotte hears when she sits herself with the rest of the cheer squad at lunch, and she’s terrified for a moment that Heather, the Vice Captain of the squad, is talking about her. Discretely, Charlotte sniffs at her hair, worried that the perfume she’d spritzed to hide any of Nikki’s lingering smoke had worn off quickly. Heather’s not even looking at her, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially to the other gathered girls.

“Heather, half the people at this school smell like smoke,” Eileen cuts in as the voice of reason, taking a dainty bite of her food to punctuate her point. Heather’s expression sours.

“Yeah, but she’s pretty, why would she smoke?”

“Heather, you smoke,” Eileen rolls her eyes, and Heather sits back, crossing her arms, long, dainty fingers resting on her perfectly tanned and toned biceps.

“Yeah, but at least I have the decency not to smell like the bottom of an ashtray,” Heather raises an eyebrow, as if offering some form of challenge, and Charlotte watches Eileen bite back on a scathing retort, simply offering a withering smile, and continuing on with her lunch, “anyway,” Heather rolls her eyes, and starts up a new conversation with the girls on her other side, who were hanging onto her every word like it was gospel.

It’s quite possible that the tensions between Heather and Eileen may never actually die down, Charlotte considers, fiddling with the plastic-wrapped straw of her juice box. The thing is that Heather had only scored the position of Vice Captain of the cheerleading squad after Eileen, practically a shoe-in after two years on the squad and a pretty impressive acrobatic repertoire, publicly turned down the offer, quit, and joined the swim team the very next day, refusing to give a reason for any of her actions. A vicious joke circled the school about Heather being sloppy seconds, and despite Eileen never actually contributing to the joke in any way, or even acknowledging it, part of Heather still obviously resented her. The fact that Eileen still chose to sit with the cheerleaders despite not being one anymore, might also play into that, like she’s rubbing it in Heather’s face, even though she never would intend to do that.

Charlotte’s known Eileen for what feels like forever, since Summer camp in Grade School, living close enough to maintain a friendship, but not close enough that they were in the same district for Grade or Middle School. Both academically and socially minded young women, they’d found themselves in a number of clubs in those years that brought them face to face at meet or competitions, and thankfully, their local high school drew from a wider range of districts, finally bringing them together as allies, rather than competitors. 

“Who were they talking about?” Charlotte asks quietly, stabbing her straw into her juice box, trying to keep their conversation discrete.

“A girl transferred into our grade -”

“On a Thursday?” Charlotte scoffs a little, “with three weeks left to go before Winter break?” And Eileen makes a noise in the back of her throat, an I know, it’s weird, right? Without saying any actual words. 

“Something Fields; we just had French with her,” Eileen nods to where Heather’s now happily chattering with the other cheerleaders, earlier disagreement seemingly forgotten.

“Something?” Charlotte asked wryly, and Eileen gave her an amused look.

“Madame Laurent’s accent would butcher the name Sally, I’m surprised I managed to understand Fields,” and okay, she has a point, Madame Laurent’s French accent was half the reason any of the students studied the language, if only to understand her, because her English, while technically good, was sometimes incomprehensible. 

“The girl didn’t correct her?”

“Nah, just kept quiet, embarrassed, I think,” Eileen mused, and Charlotte hummed thoughtfully, “though she did sit herself right next to Heather; bold move, I’ll applaud her for that.”

“Bet Heather didn’t like that,” Charlotte snickered quietly, and Eileen’s smile stretched into a full grin.

“She straight up moved the moment the girl put her bag down.”

“The poor girl,” Charlotte shook her head with a sigh, before clarifying, “not Heather, obviously.” Eileen snorted a laugh.

“What’s the new girl like?” Charlotte finds herself asking, intrigued.

“Quiet,” is Eileen’s immediate answer, “couldn’t get a good read on her, but she knows a decent amount of French.” But she deliberates for a moment, “looks kind of mean.” And for the barest moment, Charlotte frowns, mind flashing to the girl she’d seen at the gas station yesterday... it couldn’t be.

“Black hair?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I saw a girl at the gas station yesterday, black hair, kind of mean looking, Mick didn’t know her,” that was the big tip; Mick seemed to know all the gas station regulars, so she must be new. Eileen catalogued this information in her mind, but had no comment on it beyond a shrug, before reminding Charlotte that they had debate after school, and asking if Tommy would be sticking around to give her a lift home. 

“He will be, he’s got practice until four too,” Charlotte said with a half smile, “and yes, he can give you a lift home too... Will Peach be needing one too?” She asked, referring to Eileen’s younger sister, but Eileen shook her head.

“She’s staying back until five every day this week to finish her science fair project, mom’s happy to pick her up - something about magnets this year - but I don’t want to wait around.”

“Wait, how long until the science fair?” Last year, Eileen, Charlotte, Tommy, and Vince Neil, who they’d still considered something of a friend at the time, had all come to support Peach in both her first year of high school, and her first science fair. Peach had come third, with a rather impressive display about which various household liquids killed plants fastest, and all three had cheered when she’d been given her ribbon, and Tommy and Vince spent the entire ride in the back of Peach and Eileen’s mom’s station wagon ranting about how she should have won, and scheming about how to best put a dead houseplant in their science teacher’s bed, like some low budget, home depot Scarface. Tommy may have become their friends via his place as a constant fixture in Charlotte’s life, and Vince simply because he had grown up as something of her neighbour and Tommy’s close friend, but their loyalty was absolute. Well, almost absolute. Vince was noticeably absent from their current roster of friends however, the then-four of them how vowed to make it a habit, and they could all tell Peach had been touched by the gesture, and Eileen, Charlotte, and Tommy were, at the very least, going to uphold that promise. A small smile plays on Eileen’s face.

“Next Tuesday, she’s so excited.”

if you put your mind to it, you can do anything. but you won’t. 

So according to Eileen, Vince Neil is throwing a party on Saturday, and seeing as Charlotte’s parents still think the world of Vince after he’d been so kind of her after everything happened with her ex at the start of the year, she’s allowed to go. They went to middle school together, though he was always a year younger than her, in Tommy’s grade, and their parents were passive-aggressive PTA friends for a few years there, and, as mentioned before, he’d been genuinely sweet when she was at her lowest. Her parents don’t know that a week and a half into Summer break, right after he’d taken her to prom and promised to key her ex’s car if she asked, he started surfing, starting hanging out at the beach with the rest of the pretty, mean jocks spending their Summer in the sun, and had turned into a vain asshole. Or, well, more of a vain asshole than he already was. 

Vince’s family was well off, and his parties were legendary, which is what made her parents agreeing to let her go so strange. 

What they didn’t, and would never agree to, was letting her go to Nikki’s gig, so she didn’t even bother to ask. Instead, she asked to spend the weekend with Tommy and Athena. Her mother calls to confirm that that would be okay, Charlotte packs a duffle bag with outfits for the weekend, and her mother reminds her to take care of herself at the party the following night, kissing her on both cheeks when Tommy turns up in his beat up Vista Cruiser. 

“Why are you hanging out with us tonight?” Tommy asks, frowning, still in the clothes he’d worn to school. Charlotte’s grip tightens on her duffle bag.

“Because we’re going out tonight.”

Immediately, Tommy’s posture straightens, and his expression lights up; he was delightfully easy to excite. Suddenly he was brimming with questions as he drove, fighting to keep his eyes on the road, and Charlotte let herself relax a little, glad to see he was onboard.

“Nikki Sixx’s band -”

“- is playing tonight!” Tommy finishes her sentence, his voice breaking on the last word out of excitement, though Charlotte kindly doesn’t comment, and it doesn’t stop Tommy’s eyes from sparkling, “he wrote it in sharpie in pretty much every bathroom in the school; you want to go?” Yeah, that sounds about par for the course for Nikki Sixx’s brand of advertising.

“You’re half in love with the guy,” Charlotte ignored Tommy’s spluttered protests, “so I wanna see what the hype is about,” she lied easily. She wasn’t a fan of lying to Tommy, he deserved better than that, but he also might crash if he knows that Nikki had personally invited them.

Tommy begs his mom to let them go, promising to be safe and be back by midnight, and the moment Charlotte vouches for him, his mother’s concern melts into agreement, and Athena complains that she’s never allowed to go anywhere. Tommy sticks his tongue out at her, and she kicks him in the shins, scowling, until Charlotte asks her to help her get ready, and Athena brightens considerably. 

“Charlie you look like a badass!” Tommy delights when he steps out of the bathroom, hair all teased up, eyeliner expertly applied his waterline, wearing an outrageous outfit. He was going to fit in easily. 

“Holy shit, dude, so do you -”

“Tommy! That’s my shirt!” Athena accused, storming over to him, trying to pull the tight, black tank top with the hot pink diamante lightning bolt off of him, despite his jacket over it, while he tried to slap her away.

“It looks better on me!” Tommy snapped, escaping her grasp and trying to hide in the bathroom. 

“Dude, she’s thirteen, give her the shirt back, you can borrow one of mine,” Charlotte sighed, standing back from it all. 

“Never!”

His mother called out if everything’s okay, and while Athena yelled that Tommy was stealing from her, Charlotte called back that she’d take care of it.

“Charlie, please,” Athena sulked, leaning against the closed bathroom door, while Tommy told his sister to piss off. Charlotte sighed, before giving the young girl an evaluative look.

“Would you let him wear it for five bucks?” 

Athena squinted at her, seriously considering the offer; if Tommy had made it, there would be no way she would have accepted, but she knew Charlotte was good for it. 

“Fine, but if he stretches it, I’m telling mom about his stash of Playboys,” she threatened, to which both Tommy and Charlotte made noises of surprise, Charlotte because she hadn’t known about that, and Tommy because he clearly didn’t think Athena knew about it either. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Tommy hisses, wrenching the door open. Athena turns arms crossed, smile smug, and gives him her best try me look. Tommy wrinkles his nose, but stalks into his room, grabbing a five ones from his wallet and giving them to Athena, who Charlotte had never seen so pleased before.

“I hate her,” Tommy seethed, and Charlotte petted his shoulder in solidarity.

“I know,” and then, “aren’t you going to be cold?” 

“I’ve got another jacket.”

The pub, Kings’ Hotel, sits on the border between suburbia and the CBD, and Charlotte’s been past it a million times, has spent a considerable amount of time idly staring out the window of MacCready’s Diner across the road, but never actually been inside. Speaking of MacCready’s, there’s a ton of scaffolding around it that Charlotte definitely doesn’t remember, and the sign’s been taken down, so it appears Tommy’s gossip about it being under new management was true. 

There’s no bouncer, but high schoolers and music were already spilling from the building by the time Charlotte and Tommy showed up. The music is decent, if a little heavy, but Charlotte knows she could definitely get into it if she wanted to. When she approaches the building, she notices a gaggle of vaguely recognizable people all in a cluster, huddle together while they smoked to keep warm in the cold night air. 

“Hi Heather,” Tommy calls out to one, putting on his most winning smile, and when Charlotte gets a proper look, yeah she can see Heather with her hair sprayed up and lipstick shiny, give her cousin a sceptical look. She does, however, notice Charlotte, and her expression shifts to something faux sweet and coy, a show of being amicable to someone obviously associated with a fellow cheerleader, and she gives them both a wave.

“I thought you had a thing for Pam,” Charlotte asks quietly as they push their way into the pub.

“Charlie, I’m into any and every cheerleader I’m not related to, why should I deprive any of the other lovely young ladies by only focusing on one girl?”

“Gross,” was Charlotte’s only comment. Tommy ignored her. 

It was kind of overwhelming at first, between the loud music, the crush of people she half-knew, the fact that the bartender didn’t even blink when Tommy ordered a beer, or the fact that Nikki Sixx was on stage in skin tight leather pants, playing bass like it was his God given mission in life.

Her ex and his best friend had also been kind of obsessed with Nikki and his band, and she was coming to understand the hype. Between the swirling lights, the people on the dancefloor, and the heat of the crowd, it was almost hypnotizing to be a part of.

“You should get a drink,” Tommy urges, and Charlotte hesitates. She’s had spiked punch before, half a glass of wine at a family get together when her mom had been tipsy and feeling indulgent, and a couple of sips of beer that her ex had offered her when they’d gone to parties together, but she’d never really...

“I don’t know what to order,” she admits, hesitant, but still raising her voice over the music. Tommy offers her his beer to taste, but Charlotte was already well aware of the fact that beer tasted like piss, and she turns him down. She tries to think back to what people order in TV shows and movies, and tentatively approaches the bar.

“Could I get a jack and coke?” She asks, just thankful that her voice doesn’t shake. The bartender looks her up and down, checking her out without a hint of subtlety, and Charlotte fights the urge to pull her jacket tighter around herself.

“Of course, honey, that’ll be five-fifty,” the bartender smirks, and Charlotte gives an uncertain smile back, thanking him and passing over a ten dollar note. He gives her a five change, along with her drink and a wink. Gross.

“What’d you get?” Tommy asks, when she finds him again, standing against the opposite wall, already halfway through his drink. Charlotte’s holding hers in her fingertips, nervous, taking a sip and scrunching up her whole face at the taste.

“Jack and coke,” she hisses as the alcohol burns. Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up at her bold choice, and asks if he can try it. She offers it easily, and he too makes a face as he drinks, but pretends like it’s great. 

They see more people they recognize, people confused but glad to see them out. They’re almost immediately accosted by Keanu, yet another face Charlotte hadn’t been expecting to see, and he wraps them both up in a hug; he’s all dark hair and wide, easy smiles, somehow everyone’s friend in a way that’s so different from how Charlotte seems to be everybody’s friend, but he and Tommy get on like a house on fire. There’s a resilience they both seem to have, and a shared enthusiasm, despite the fact that Keanu was a Senior, a year above Charlotte, and a full two above Tommy, but his good nature seemed to override these boundaries; the moment Tommy mentions he’d been thinking of heading to the dancefloor, Keanu’s more than happy to join him.

Immediately Tommy gulps down the last mouthful and beer and the pair of boys see fit to start cutting shapes on the dance floor with wild abandon, and so Charlotte finds herself at a table at the back of the room with Heather, a few other cheerleaders and their boyfriends, and surprisingly, Vince. He’s in white leather pants, and they look cool as hell, but also it’s Vince, and Charlotte’s fighting back the urge to laugh.

“Charlotte Lee, you’re looking fine tonight,” Vince slide into the space beside her, and Charlotte doesn’t roll her eyes, or make a comment about how he looks like a greasy snowman, no matter how much she wants to.

“Surprised to see you here, Vince, where’s all your popular little surfer pals?” She asks sweetly, and Vince raises his eyebrows at her, a retort on the tip of his tongue.

“I forgot you two knew each other,” Heather says, and she pauses, clearly deliberating, something dangerous in her eyes, “didn’t you used to date?”

“No,” Charlotte blurts quickly, though Vince is just as quick to deny it, “we’re friends- we were friends; not anymore. We went to prom together, yes, but we never dated.” She clarifies quickly, body language all tight and uncomfortable, which manages to go all the way over Vince’s head, and his hand comes to rest on his heart, expression reading betrayal.

“How long have been known each other, Charlie, for you to say we’re not even friends -”

And maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the alcohol, but Charlotte snapped.

“We were friends for years, Vinny, then six months ago you decided to spend all your time with a bunch of tools and bragged about taking me to prom because I was a cheerleader, and also - oh yeah, remember this? - made one of your best friends cry,” Charlotte hissed venomously, shoulders still tense, fingers gripping the edge of the table. Vince scowled.

“Peach wasn’t-” the words spill from him automatically, but there’s a flicker of something that may just be shame in his eyes, so he drops his gaze and starts again; “my friends are not tools -”

“The Vince who was my friend wouldn’t skip school three days a week to get high and fuck on the beach!” 

“It sounds like you two have a lot to work out...” Heather seems genuinely surprised, and while she’d been fishing for gossip, this was too much, and she graciously backed out of the conversation, pulling one of her friends over to the bar. Charlotte was suddenly aware of how hot it was in the bar, how sweaty and oppressive it all felt.

“People can fucking change, Charlotte,” Vince scowled.

“You didn’t change for the better, Vince, whatever the opposite of character growth is, it’s what happened to you.” Charlotte spat, and turned on her heel before he can respond. She didn’t want to stand on the side side of the road out the front, so she heads for the door labelled Beer Garden, and steps into the cool night air. 

Once outside, she realises how quiet it is, and when she sees Nikki Sixx at one of the tables with a blonde girl giggling in his lap, she comes to the conclusion that the band must be on break. The Beer Garden is mostly populated by smokers, the people around Nikki being the cool, intimidating, stoner punk rockers that she’d figured would be here, but that she can’t bring herself to approach. It’s nice to take a moment to be alone, she finds, breathing in the crisp night air, head feeling clearer for it, looking up at the stars glittering overhead. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Vince is a fucking tool. He’d made Peach cry the week they got back to school, and Charlotte had vowed to never forgive him for it. 

After a few minutes, Charlotte takes the time to really look at the people milling around, wondering if she actually recognised anyone. Much to her surprise, in the back corner of the courtyard area, she did. 

Side by side, Mick from the gas station, and the mysterious girl who’d bought cigarettes from him, sitting on the edge of a planter full of dead shrubs, both smoking, neither speaking, reading one magazine between the two of them.

Charlotte’s not quite sure who’s more likely to stab her, between Mick and the girl, and Nikki’s band of misfits, but she hedges her bets and heads to the pair at the back.

“Having a good night, Mick?” Charlotte asks tentatively, before giving pause. They’re reading a ratty old copy of Hustler. Mick looks up, and lets go of his side of the magazine, letting the girl take it, to keep flipping idly through.

“The band’s okay,” Mick muses, and seems to realise that his cigarette has gone out when he tries to take a drag on it, and he pulls out a lighter and relights it, “how’s your night been?”

“It’s been alright, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Charlotte gives an awkward laugh, looking to the magazine, which Mick seems to either have forgotten about, or not realise that he’s reading porn in public, but finally the girl looks up.

“Someone cut out all the tits,” she’s got an accent Charlotte hadn’t noticed back at the gas station, and still can’t quite place, but that’s not the part she focuses on.

“What?” 

The girl flips the magazine around to show a Farrah Fawcett look-alike posing suggestively, with her entire torso cut from the magazine, just leaving a hole where the cologne ad on the next page can be seen. 

“Found it on the side of the road on the way here,” Mick says, like it suffices for an entire explanation. Instead of elaborating, he offers Charlotte a cigarette.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke,” an awkward silence follows, Charlotte with her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, while the girl close the magazine with a resounding slap and threw it over her shoulder into the dead shrubs, “I’m Charlotte.” Charlotte offers her hand. The girl looks at it, then to Charlotte’s face.

“From the gas station, the cheerleader” she says, tone unreadable, giving Charlotte a scrutinizing look, like she’s waiting for the blonde to shirk under it’s intensity. Charlotte doesn’t back down, and the girl finally gives her a firm handshake, “Lola.”

Silence followers, chatter filters over from the various other groups, Nikki’s laugh, loud and clear, above the rest. Neither Mick nor Lola makes room for Charlotte, so she sways idly from side to side, people watching the rest of the courtyard.

“Didn’t pick you for this type of scene,” Mick muses finally, crossing his ankles and fixing Charlotte with a strangely neutral expression, cigarette almost burned down to the butt where it’s poised between his lips, “that over-eager cousin of yours, sure, but this doesn’t seem like it’s your style.”

“Oh, Tommy is here,” Charlotte’s quick to clarify, looking around as if he were about to jump out of the bushes and irritate the rarely amicable Mick, “but, I don’t know,” she shrugged like coming out tonight wasn’t her idea, “I’m more than happy to give anything a go at least once; people at my school are kind of weirdly obsessed with the bass player, so I guess I wanted to see what the hype was about.”

Mick finished his cigarette as he considered her words, giving a pensive look to the bass player himself, still surrounded by a gaggle of fans, and eventually stubbed the last of the ash out against the edge of the planter he was sitting on, letting the butt fall, crumpled, to the ground. 

“He’s the only one with any ounce of talent,” voice gruff, Mick’s approval comes as a surprise to both Charlotte, who’s eyes go wide at the statement, and Lola, who barks an unexpected laugh, that ends with her choking on the smoke in her lungs. Mick thumps her on the back, and she roughly when her breathing clears, tears watering in her eyes. 

“Whoever writes their songs is half decent,” Lola points out, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, after which she dropped her own mostly burnt-out cigarette, crushing it under the heel of her boot. Yes, she has a point, but Charlotte’s curiosity gets the better of her.

“Can I ask...?” At her tentative tone, Lola immediately tenses, growing defensive, “are you Lola Fields?”

“Why?” Lola immediately snaps, and Charlotte raises her hands in surrender. Mick’s arms are crossed, looking with interest between the two girls.

“I think you go to my school,” Charlotte quickly clarifies, but Lola’s scowl deepens, as if wondering how she knew that, “do you take AP French with a tall, ginger girl?”

“I don’t really know who else is in the class,” Lola slowly tells her, but it’s not a no, which is all that matters. Charlotte nods, but doesn’t press the subject, “it’s weird that you know that much about me.” Lola adds.

“It’s barely anything,” Charlotte points out, baffled at the sudden defensiveness. 

“You know my last name and that I do AP French,” Lola says, and her gaze shifts from Charlotte to the gaggle of fans surrounding Nikki, as they all started to head inside.

“Well,” Charlotte doesn’t let her resolve falter, smiling, “my name’s Charlotte Lee, and --”

“Oi, Cheerleader, you coming inside? We’ve got another set to go!” Nikki Sixx’s voice rings out through the courtyard area, and Charlotte visibly cringes at the sound of it, turning slowly on her heel, still wincing when she faces him. 

And yes, he was talking to her, his hands are still cupped around his mouth like a megaphone, a tunnel showing off his smug and toothy grin. She hadn’t realised he’d even noticed her, but he had, and he needed her to know he had.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you,” she calls back, irritated. Nikki lowers his hands, and even from this distance she can see him raising his eyebrows.

“But you’re here, aren’t you?” He leaves the because I invited to you as an implication only she would hear, knowing she would hear it nonetheless. Charlotte sighs deeply, shoulders sagging with resignation, and Nikki, feeling as though he’d won, turns sharply on his heel and marches inside.

“I hate him,” Charlotte groaned.

“You know him?” Mick seems rather surprised, enough that the emotion could be heard in his voice. Charlotte turns back, not quite sure what to expect when she faced them. Mick is watching Charlotte with actual interest. Lola was watching the spot where Nikki had been, expression carefully blank.

“He’s a pain,” Charlotte says, defeated, and Lola’s gaze flicks to her, expression turning amused, but before she can get a word in -

“There you are!” The door to the now mostly-empty beer garden bursts open, and Tommy makes himself known. He’s left Keanu somewhere inside, apparently, now that he was on the hunt for his cousin. Mick sighs so heavily that it’s all he can do to lean back into the planter, arms crossed over his chest like a vampire, as if the very sight of the kid exhausts him. From this position, the packet of cigarettes in his pocket is exposed, and Lola steals one.

“I’ll owe you,” is all she says, as Tommy approaches, in less of a beeline, and more of an unsteady wave, more than a little tipsy. Christ, his mom is gonna kill them both.

“I was looking everywhere for you,” his wide eyes betrayed his concern, despite his current state, but his concern turns to joy, upon seeing her company, “hi, Mick!” Mick does not answer, laying with his eyes closed, in the shrubs. 

“He’s dead,” Lola supplies without missing a beat, pulling out her lighter and lighting the stolen cigarette, and Tommy’s expression falls.

“We should help him -”

“I can help him, don’t worry,” Lola assures, with faux seriousness, before her tone shifts to something light, easily distracting the tipsy boy, “you were in the gas station the other day with this one, weren’t you?” She gestures with her lighter towards Charlotte; Tommy looks to his cousin before looking to Lola.

“I- yeah, oh, shit, you’re- hi,” suddenly flustered as he finally remembered where he knew her from, he offers his hand, “Tommy.”

“Lola,” there’s a new edge to her smile, sparkling in her eyes as she taking in Tommy and his whole look, which has something strangely protective flare up in Charlotte’s chest. But then Lola catches the slight frown on Charlotte’s face, and it’s like she knows exactly what she’s thinking, because she lets go of Tommy’s hand and her expression betrays on the faintest hint of amusement. 

“Lola,” Tommy nods very seriously, as if committing the name to his memory in his current state was quite the task, but he persisted nonetheless. After a moment, however, he seemed to remember his original mission, “Vince thought you’d headed home -”

“Fuck Vince,” Charlotte spits automatically, venomously, a knee-jerk response, and Tommy’s stunned into silence. 

“Do you want to go home?” Tommy’s far too earnest and concerned for his current state, and Charlotte feels momentarily guilty for her outburst, hanging her head and letting herself breathe for a moment.

“No, the music’s good, we just got into a fight -”

“You guys used to actually be good friends,” Tommy hesitates, confused, and Charlotte gives him a rueful smile when she looks back at him.

“Then he decided that being nice to the people who have been friends with him for years was lame.”

“He’s nice to me,” Tommy says, sounding a little put out, and Charlotte shrugged, crossing her arms.

“And he’s still nice to me, doesn’t mean he’s not a tool; I’m a cheerleader, and you’re a guy, of course he’s still going to be nice to us.”

Tommy still doesn’t get it, but Charlotte decides to head back into the pub with him, throwing over her shoulder that it was nice to meet Lola. She could almost swear she heard a muttered ‘fuckin’ teenagers’ from Mick, all of nineteen years old himself, which just has Charlotte rolling her eyes. Mick taps Lola’s arm when Charlotte glances over her shoulder, while the rest of him still lays flat in the dirt, and Lola passes him the cigarette obligingly, crossing one leg over the other and smirking at him.

it doesn’t matter if the glass is half full or half empty. i am gonna drink it through this crazy straw!

“Vince is on the warpath,” Eileen’s always been able to remain composed while unreasonably drunk better than any person Charlotte’s ever known, and the following night, while Vince’s house party rages around them in the living room of his house, is no exception. She won’t say how many vodka sodas she’s had, or who supplied her with the vodka, but the way she was unable to suppress the amused twist of her lips was a dead giveaway that she was a little more than tipsy.

“Oh?” Charlotte’s eyes were roaming from face to face at the party, never sticking to just one, hands clutching a red solo cup full of cheap wine.

“Someone told him the person who keyed his car was here,” Eileen’s close to laughter, and Charlotte’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Does he -”

“No,” Eileen shakes her head, taking another delicate sip of her own drink, “he thinks it’s one of Duff’s friends.” She says, before her eyes going wide, and she slaps her free hand over her mouth - “sorry.” Charlotte, who’s too tipsy to care about the mention of her ex, is more confused than anything else.

“Because of me?” She actually snorts, skeptical, “as if Duff or any of his friends cared about who took me to prom after everything happened, enough to key Vince’s car.” It’s been long enough now that she can laugh at it, and the warped logic of it all, knowing full well that the girl sitting beside her was the real vandal of Vince’s shiny, red car. 

“Can you believe Vince asked me to invite Peach? After all that shit he pulled on her after Summer? I almost clocked him in the middle of the carpark!” Eileen’s movements were relaxed and uncomplicated, so unlike her usual demeanour, so easy-going, so honest, sometimes drunk-Eileen’s openness caught Charlotte by surprise, “told him to invite her himself if he wanted her there so bad.”

“I’m in awe of your restraint,” Charlotte mused, leaning into Eileen, letting her eyes fall closed in an attempt to keep the room from spinning in her vision, “he’s such an ass; I’m surprised you’re even here.”

“The nerve on him, acting like he’s too good to be seen with her because he’s got new friends,” Eileen shook her head, wrapping her free arm around Charlotte’s shoulders, securing her, still people watching, “I should have keyed him,” for a moment, she hiccups, and when Charlotte cracks her eye open for a moment to guage her friend’s current state, she sees Eileen glaring into her mostly-empty cup. 

“I’m still deciding if I should pee on something he cares about,” Eileen says, tone so serious that Charlotte can’t help but dissolve into giggles.

“What?”

“‘s why I’m here,” Eileen was so earnest in her declaration that Charlotte was a little nervous, if only because drunk-Eileen would absolutely do something as undignified as pee on something of Vince’s in an act of revenge.

“Would you key Duff’s car for me?” Charlotte asked to change the topic, all soft and teasing, and she can hear rare, unrestrained the smile in Eileen’s voice when she assured Charlotte she would in a heartbeat, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

Despite it still being early in the night, Charlotte knew that if she seemed drunk when she got back to Tommy’s house, her Aunt would tell her mom, and that’s the exact opposite of what she needs. Tommy can get legless if he wants, he only has to face the wrath of his weirdly supportive parents; if Charlotte comes home obviously drunk, she won’t be allowed out of the house until college. So she decides to get water.

There’s bodies everywhere, and Charlotte’s struggling to move through them, even with Eileen guiding her to the kitchen.

Charlotte’s been in and around this house so many times, it should be second nature to her; she and Tommy had spent what felt like half their childhoods in this house, within it’s pristine, white walls, and expensive, leather furniture, playing pretend trying to imagine what their future would turn out to be. None of them would have pictured this, of Charlotte, of Charlotte hating Vince and still stumbling, drunk through his house, nor had they seen Vince, playing pretend with popularity, tossing them all aside for a set of conceited fair-weather friends. Tommy’s never been able to predict his own future, too willing to go with the flow to be too certain of anything. 

Away from the living room, and the record player, the music is muffled, and the chatter is quieter, as people are here for drinks, or snacks, while most were choosing to dance in the crush in the living room, or making regrettable, teenage decision upstairs. 

Eileen tops up her drink with obviously spiked punch. Half vodka and soda, half spiked fruit punch. Gross. Charlotte looks on in disgust as she sips water, and Eileen acts like there’s no difference between taste, but she interrupts her own performance of stoicism when her eyes widen.

“Fields.”

“What?” Charlotte asks, confused as all hell, following Eileen’s gaze to where the kitchen opens up onto the patio, only to see Lola, in a full face of makeup, hair sprayed to high heavens, wearing all sorts of black, ripped, mesh and denim layers, looking like an intimidating cross between glam rock and crust punk. She was straddling someone’s lap, looking at them intently, what looked to be a black, eyeliner pencil in her hand.

“That’s the girl from my French class,” Eileen sounds a little surprised to see her, and Charlotte smiles a little.

“Her name’s Lola -” but her mouth drops open when Lola, in the dim light spilling from the kitchen, leans in and kisses whoever she’s sitting on. After a beat, both Charlotte and Eileen burst in fits of unsubtle laughter, not having anticipated this turn of events. They’re holding each other for support in their drunken amusement, laughing like this is somehow the funniest thing they’ve ever encountered, thankfully aware enough to set aside their cups. 

“I- we’re intruding right? This is- we should leave-” they’re not even the only ones in the kitchen when Charlotte says this, gasping for breaths between her laughs, but they seem to be the only ones who have noticed what’s happening, or at least the only ones who halfway care.

Until there comes a shout of ‘yeah, get some, Tommy!’ from the bonfire about thirty yards from the patio, and Charlotte very clearly and distinctly thinks ‘oh no’.

Vince is silhouetted by the fire, bleach blonde hair catching the light, but Charlotte can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Shut up, Vince!” Lola’s partner, who is now unmistakably Tommy, calls back, flustered, as Lola hides her grin against his shoulder. Vince and his cronies, none of whom Charlotte knows by name, jeer in response. Then Lola’s leaning back and saying something that Charlotte doesn’t catch, but suddenly Tommy looks inside, his expression turning from flustered and pleased to horrified as his gaze locks with Charlotte’s and they both know that she knows.

Eileen is wheezing with laughter beside her.

Charlotte sees Tommy’s now lipstick-stained mouth mutter ‘shit’. Lola follows his gaze, and waves awkwardly at Charlotte. Charlotte also mutters ‘shit’.

Charlotte tips out her water and gets herself another cup of wine from the back of Vince’s refrigerator. A lot has happened in thirty seconds, she thinks she deserves one more drink for the night.

#mick mars #tommy lee #vince neil #nikki sixx #motley crue #the pack #charlotte & lola #lola&charlotte #the angry lizard writes

[chandelier-s-notebook]

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Taglist: @sleepysnails

Ao3 link

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“My name is Tubbo Jacobs. My father is Karl Jacobs. He works as an editor for the Houver Mailer. That’s also just true. My name is Tubbo Jacobs. I’ve just moved in with my father. I was living with my mother for my whole life, but I wanted to meet my dad after the divorce when I was three years old. So now that I’m sixteen, they arranged for me to move in.” Tubbo looks out the window of the Honda Civic Karl had driven him to school in. “My name is Tubbo Jacobs, and I am the new kid.”

Tubbo opens the shotgun door and steps out.

“What? Not gonna hug your old man?” Karl teases.

Tubbo glances back at him. “I will.” He slams the door behind him. Karl speeds away unfazed by the cold teen.

Geez. He’s gonna need to pretend that guy is his actual dad later. Tubbo shakes his head. Do normal teenagers hate their parents?

It’s been a while since Tubbo has been to school. Intellectually Tubbo knows that Hollywood movies are incorrect in their portrayal, but what does he have to base his expectations on. Ever since his grandpa died and his debts to the Jays were passed down to Tubbo’s father in the inheritance, his life was shit.

He was taken out of school in order to pay the debts off. Schlatt used him as an errand boy for the first year. Then on a supply run gone wrong he killed someone. Captain Maron was a homicide investigator and regularly brought home work. Tubbo had spent years reading up on serial killers and their signatures, and he had kept enough of his wits about him to frame one of those guys still on the streets.

After that, Schlatt gave him a new purpose: the Jays’ invisible assassin. Tubbo was a cop’s son, if anything the fact he was invisible helped his dad keep his job.

But, killers don’t have good social skills. And there’s nothing that’s transferable between assassin and high school student. He supposes that technically reading someone’s body language and copying it would be a transferable skill he had.

From emulating serial killers to high school students. He sincerely hopes he’s as good at the latter as he is the former.

In the atrium there are four masses of printed paper taped to the walls. There are larger decorative letters above these, and Tubbo makes his way to the one that says “JUNIORS.”

He runs his finger along the Js section, looking for his name. There he was. “Tubbo Jacobs, room 234, English, Ms. Chu.” Tubbo turns to find a stairwell. “Now where is 234?”

Tubbo’s a little on edge as he wanders the school walls, but who wouldn’t be? Tubbo decides he’s going to forget the whole “must assassinate Thomas Rough next semester” thing for the time being. Right now he’s going to focus on being the new kid; figuring out how to socialize, and befriending Ranboo Alastair.

He knows Ms. Chu’s door when he sees it. It’s the one with tissue paper flowers and bright colours on it. The first thing he sees upon walking in is a seating plan. Back corner, nice. And his deck partner is his mark.

Nope. Not calling him that. Thomas Rough is the mark. Ranboo Alastair is the collateral, the current target.

Tubbo sits down. Ranboo enters the classroom.

If all goes to plan, Ranboo Alastair will be Tubbo’s first friend in six years.

Ranboo throws his bag to the floor and pulls out his phone. The two of them sit silently in their corner of the room while people file it and start talking to their classmates. Tubbo notices that everybody in the class glanced at them at least twice, each.

Tubbo is pretty sure it’s because they all must have gone to school together for years and were checking out the new face, but it seems like Ranboo is getting just as many looks at Tubbo. And it’s not like he chose to sit next to the new kid.

The early bell rings.

“Sorry about the looks.” Ranboo says, still texting. “That happens.”

“It’s fine. I expected it. New blood ‘n’ all.”

“That happens too.”

Tubbo wonders what he was referring to the first time.

“Good morning class, welcome to junior English!” Ms. Chu says over the voices of the class ocne the late bell rings. “We’re going to do attendance, then I’m forcing you to do an ice breaker with your desk partner.”

Tubbo’s head falls forwards slightly while the class groans. How was he supposed to come up with something for ice breakers?

Ms. Chu puts her hands up placatingly, kinda smile on her face. “I know I know. No one likes ice breakers. But we can start reading MacBeth instead if you guys want?”

This got a much louder negative reaction.

“That’s what I thought.” Ms. Chu pulls up the attendance sheet. “Ranboo Alastair?”

“Here.”

Tubbo checks out as he tries to come up with experiences. The problem is that all good lies stem from the truth, and that he needs to remember these stories for later. Tubbo flits through his life from before he started working under Schlatt and a few normal moments from his life after.

“Tubbo Jacobs?”

“Present,” he says without really thinking or hearing her.

“Tubbo?”

“Yes. Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing. I’m not laughing,” Ranboo says, definitely stifling a laugh.

“Stop.” Tubbo smiles, good naturally he hopes. “Your name is Ranboo. You can’t laugh.”

“Sure I can.”

“No you can’t!”

The teacher clears her throat.

Tubbo and Ranboo look at her; the latter with a confident smile, the former with an apologetic one.

“Good morning Ms. Chu,” Ranboo says, “Don’t let us interrupt you. Please go one with your lesson plan.”

“You got a mouth over the summer Mr. Alastair,” the teacher jokes.

“Nah Ma’am. I got confidence.”

Tubbo breaks. He purses his lips in order to not laugh.

Ms. Chu, completely unoffended and obviously ready to play, sits back in her chair. “Save it for tomorrow when there’ll be a lesson to disrupt. Everyone else, turn to your partners and introduce yourselves. Tell each other about your summers for the next ten minutes.”

Both Tubbo and Ranboo seem to have the same idea. Everyone else turns but they stay staring at Ms. Chu.

“Yes boys?”

“You said ‘everybody else’ what are we doing?” Tubbo asks, innocent as can be.

Someone from a nearby desk stops their sentence to laugh.

“Mr. Jacobs was it?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Tell Ranboo about your summer.”

“Of course Ma’am.”

Tubbo may be an assassin, but he’s still a teenager who’s been told what to do for years; cop’s kid, dealing with the fucking Mafia, the pinnacle of controlling adults. As far as he was concerned, any punishment he’d get from talkback here was nothing. Tubbo was going to be the smartass-talkback kid. Fuck.

“So what did you do this summer?”

Hack into the Roughs’ personal database to learn everything he could about Thomas Rough by going through Dan Rough’s archives on his son’s life. “Coding,” is what he says instead.

#Tubbo #Ranboo #Karl Jacobs #Nihachu #Assassinate But Nah