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stolenoc · 7 months

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Villainous Nights Fanfiction

Like fully two years ago I started writing a Villainous Nights AU where MC got recruited by Optimus before the Syndicate found her. I've stopped writing it, but I've always liked this scene and I'm sick of scrolling past it in my wips and being sad it won't be used, so here it is.

3500 words, MC x Juliette (Monarch & Bat too, I guess)

When I glance at the screen, it's to find an incoming call from one of my contacts- specifically, from Bat.

I'd be the first to admit I've been pretty forgetful lately- How could I not be? Thanks to all the hit and run attacks the Syndicate have been making lately, I’ve been basically working nonstop. I’m tired in a way that sleeping doesn’t even fix but, even so, I’m pretty sure I would remember saving one of the guys who are trying to kill me as a contact.

Did he like, hack into my phone and add this? Is that a thing you can do? I guess it's probably a thing he can do. His name is listed as "Bat- Just wanna talk", which is… well, it’s in character for him, if nothing else. He does like to talk.

After taking a quick, guilty glance around to make sure I'm mostly alone (I'm not strictly sure if I'd be allowed to accept calls from the people the company is actively at war with), I answer the phone, heart pounding in my ears.

"Hey, Monarch," says Bat, even now sounding as awkwardly, inappropriately casual as ever.

I scoff. It's an angry sound, and I realise that I am angry. How dare he know who I am? We had such a good thing going, the Syndicate and I. It was like a game- A high stakes game that sometimes resulted in broken bones but, you know. It felt like there was respect there.

"You might as well just use my real name," I say, and it comes out as a growl through my gritted teeth. "What's this about, dude? Just trying to scare me? Because congrats, yeah, it's working."

A sudden intake of breath. Then, "No- no, Monarch, uh... Lana. This isn't a threat- okay so, in retrospect? I can see how this-"

"Oh, it's not a threat?" I hiss. "That's funny, because I am feeling exceptionally threatened. I swear, Bat, if the Syndicate goes after my-"

"The Syndicate doesn't know who you are, Lana!" he says, cutting me off. "I do. Just me. I haven't told anyone else. I really do want to talk, just the two of us."

Well. Okay. That shuts me up. I take a moment- there's just a lot to unpack with that. Bat knows who I am, and is calling me "just to talk", and wants to keep the rest of the Syndicate out of it. I... can probably work with this.

Toning down the aggression a notch, I say, "So, what is this, then? Are you looking for a job, Bat? Should I put you through to HR? There’s a couple positions open, actually."

I regret making the joke instantly- that particular wound’s still pretty raw for me- but Bat does laugh. He says, "No, I'm good, thanks. And I'm no turncoat- the Syndicate knows I'm calling you, just not who you are."

"Wait, so you're saying that they know that you know- and they're okay with you keeping it a secret?" I ask, dubiously. "Even Murderpants McKnifeguy?"

Bat snorts. He says, "They're... well, they can't do much about it, really. I'm kinda irreplaceable? They love me for my big genius brain and stuff. But yes, Falcon is extremely pissed."

"Yeah, I bet."

"It helps that I'm kinda keeping away from them, also," he admits. "Full disclosure? Everyone's shouting at me today, it completely blows. But that's not why I'm calling you."

Even though every suspicious instinct Optimus drilled into me is telling me to hang up, to go tell Rene or someone about the intrusion, to run screaming to Juliette's apartment to make sure she's okay, I have the strangest urge to just give Bat a chance.

It's true that he's always seemed a little different to the rest of his team. He rarely makes an appearance in person, and only seems to fight under sufferance- he's treated almost like a consultant. Could he have different goals? Goals that don't involve spearing me with ice lances or burying me under tons of rock?

I say, "Okay, I'll bite. What's this about?"

"I'd like to meet with you in person," he says, after a long moment of hesitation. He quickly amends, "In costume, obviously. Both of us. We can make it look like an accident during one of your patrols."

Oh, that sounds safe. I ask, "What's wrong with talking over the phone? And also, why would I keep this a secret from Optimus?"

"I want to give you something, and I need to make sure you actually get it," he says, then he chuckles a little nervously. "And as for the secret thing… You don't have to, but I'll be meeting you alone. Ideally, Scarlet Brighid won't show up and break my spine. I'd like it if we could both trust each other, here."

Ironically, the grisly description helps me relax. He's not wrong- even if he's lying through his teeth, I'm the one with the army of megacorp superheroes as backup. But if he's telling the truth… No, I can’t risk letting Scarlet show up to do her thing. Enemy or not, I don't want the man dead.

And so, just under an hour later, I make a tiny alteration to my patrol path, with Rene's permission. I started a little late, so I'm in a little bit of a rush- the second I cut the connection with Bat, I called Juliette to make certain that she was completely fine and un-kidnapped, and I ended up soaking in the reassurance of her voice for a bit longer than I should have. I wanted so badly to just tell her why I was freaking out, but...

Well. Lying to her sucks, but lying to Rene is starting to come pretty naturally. The trick is tying the lie to something vague that they can't reasonably predict- for example, it's easy for me to just tell them that I'm 'checking out some unusual activity' as I pass the location that Bat specified, a construction site that's nice and quiet.

It's a tall building, probably fated to be some big office space once the walls are filled in and the scaffolding ends up wherever scaffolding goes after it's finished its job. I could use it to climb to our meeting point, on the building's roof- but flying is only getting easier with each day of training. It's getting to the point that I might just stop walking altogether.

It only takes a minute, and I'm touching down on- not actually on a roof, exactly, because there's pillars sticking up all over the floor that are clearly intended to eventually hold up a ceiling. I resolve to think of it as the ‘top floor’, rather than ‘the roof.’

Bat's already waiting for me, far away from the building’s edge- and he's not looking so good.

"Bat? You doing alright?" I ask, feeling unexpectedly concerned as I jog to his side. He's bent over double, panting audibly even through the mask. He holds up his hands as I approach, as though to fend me off.

"I'm... good..." he says, between desperate huffs of air. "Just... just got here, too... Underestimated... hah... how long it'd take to... to climb all those stairs…"

He looks up at me, still breathing heavily. His digital faceplate displays an emoticon I haven't seen him use before- a pained expression, with a semicolon sweatdrop running down its face.

It's only then that it really clicks with me that Bat's just.. some guy. An extremely smart 'just some guy', granted, one with an interesting power and access to a lot of very cool toys, but he's not like Scarlet, or even Marquis. He's not like the rest of the Syndicate. He's not like me. I could flatten him to paste right here, right now, without even breaking a sweat.

I swallow, hard. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to me before now that just having powers doesn’t by itself turn you into a superhero, or supervillain. When, then, had I made the change from ‘just some girl’ to ‘Monarch’?

Welp, that's a thought for the vault. I just say, flatly, "The Syndicate could really use a flier or two, huh?"

"Oh you have no idea," he says, finally straightening up. His faceplate displays anger, now, but his tone is joking as he says, "You have it so easy, you know that? You never have to touch a stair again."

"Eh, flying has its ups and downs," I say, and even stressed as I am, I can't help but giggle when Bat's faceplate goes completely blank in protest. I have to admit, he's always fun. I say, “And you seriously didn’t bring the whole gang with you?”

He looks around, demonstratively holding out his hands. “I’m the only one here, right? Paranoid much?”

The flippant response really bothers me, for some reason, and I feel that spike of anger again. I say, bitterly, “Well, I guess I have reason to be paranoid. Apparently, I’m awful at keeping secrets. For all I know, my real name is gonna be trending tomorrow.”

He swaps his digital emotion again, this time signifying laughter- but he doesn’t laugh, himself. God, I bet you could write a book on the nuances of Bat’s expressions. He says, “You? No way. You’re great at secrets."

Then, after a beat, he continues, "That is, uh- I peeped your social stuff, you know- Facebook, Twitter, Yelp reviews, etcetera. You look so normal it’s boring.”

“Then how-”

“It was, um. Kinda an accident, honestly,” he says, displaying a blush. “Don’t tell anyone, but I work at Optimus-”

“You work- what?” I interject, dumbfounded. “No, you don’t. At this point, I’m willing to bet cash that Optimus is tracking my periods- you’re not hiding nightly corporate sabotage from them.”

“Hey, does it bother you a little that your opinion of Optimus has gotten so low that you just automatically assume they’re committing unforgivable violations of privacy?”

“It bothers me plenty,” I admit, with a shrug. “It sucks, but that’s corporations for you.”

Bat shakes his head. “Wild. Anyway, I don’t get screened, for the same reason Scarlet Brighid doesn’t get screened. I’m above suspicion.”

That’s absolutely terrifying. I say, “If that’s true, then you’d have to be a board member, or something. Couldn’t you just talk to me directly?”

A big X flashes on the faceplate. Bat says, "Negative. If you think being high on the food chain means nobody will try to eat you, then you’re not suspicious enough. Case in point: I bet you didn’t even know about all the mics on your suit.”

I blink.

"My what?" I ask, genuinely mystified. "Bat, I don't have a-"

"You have thirteen microphones on you right now- I’ve been jamming them since before I called you." Bat cuts me off, and starts pointing at seemingly random parts of my costume. "There, there, there- that zipper there’s actually got a camera in it, not that Optimus would ever use the footage for transparency-"

I bat his hand away, irritated now. I've trusted him this far, but he could easily be just talking out of his ass. I just say, "I'm still on Optimus's side, Bat, even if they're invasive and weird. If you've called me here with the exact same 'Oh, Optimus is totally evil, trust us instead' pitch Wolf’s always trying on me, then I’m gonna get back to work."

"No, that's fine. I'm not asking you to trust my word," he says easily, before pulling something out of the pouch at his waist. It's a lanyard- the same style that important guests at Optimus tend to wear. Hanging from it is a keycard. He holds it out to me, and the card dangles there between us. "I'm asking you to trust this."

I take it, and rotate it in my hands. It's just plain white plastic- I have an identical card in one of my own pouches, since Optimus doesn't exactly go around writing things like 'SECRET SUB-LEVEL SIX ACCESS' on its keycards. I ask, dubiously, "And this tells me... what? Why do I want this?"

A cheeky smile lights across Bat's faceplate. He says, "You know how I'm sorta just, all up in Optimus's business? All the time?"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, you're super cool. You've aged Paris Optima about twenty years with all the hacking, by the way, she hates you the most."

"Ah." The smile fades, replaced by a blank darkness. "Ouch. But um, anyway, I've read most of your chat logs with her-"

"Creepy."

"-and I know you've been cautioned, repeatedly, for asking about a particular room on Basement Level 10. It's down the end of a long hallway, no number on the door? Is that ringing any bells?"

At some point I started gripping that keycard very, very tight. I look down at it now, and feel my pulse quicken with equal parts excitement and dread. I say, "You're kidding, right? Not even Scarlet Brighid gets in there, she told me herself."

"Optimas only," Bat breathes it like a prayer. He's looking at the keycard very intently- or at least, I guess he is. His face is kinda angled towards it? "All-access- or at least, close enough. The right person could do a lot of damage with that keycard."

It was pretty obviously the wrong thing to say, and the way he straightens right back up tells me he realises that too. I pocket the card, then say, shaking my head, "You know what, you're probably right. If this belongs to an Optima, I need to take it to one. Like right now."

"Lana, wait, listen-"

"Where did you even get it?" I demand, taking a step back, wary of any sudden lunges. "No, don't answer that. Do you have any idea how much trouble I'd get in if I was caught using some bigwig's access card, Bat?"

He holds out his hands, placating. His faceplate stays blank, but I can hear something like panic in his voice as he says, "Yes, yes, I do- but I don't think you do, Lana, that's the problem-"

"It's not a big mystery, my guy! I'd get fired!"

"Fired?" Bat asks, with a laugh of disbelief. "They're not gonna- do you seriously think Optimus would fire you? The woman who can fight the entire Syndicate to a standstill on her own? You're irreplaceable, too."

Despite myself, I feel my face heat up at that description. I say, "That's... obviously a bit of an exaggeration."

"No, it isn't." In another context, those words might be an encouragement, or flattery- but Bat says them grimly, like he just thinks it's very unfortunate for me. "But that doesn't mean you're safe from them, it just means they have some other way to control you.”

I don't know what to say to that, so we just... stand there, staring warily at each other. I've heard enough to know I should just turn around and hop right back off the building, but... something in what Bat just said jolts out an old, forgotten memory. What was it that Marquis had said? Something about Optimus wrapping around you like a parasitic vine, controlling your every movement? I doubt she meant it literally, but…

Well, even if I've been acting the part in front of the Syndicate, I'm not just some corporate bootlicker. I said I trust 'Optimus', but that's not really true. I trust people in Optimus, the ones I know. I trust Rene, and I trust Scarlet. I trust Juliette, too, more than anything. If I rotate the thought around in my mind, I can even say that investigating the company isn't really betraying those people- really, I'd just be finding proof that the company deserves them. Right?

Or maybe I'm just looking for excuses to go somewhere I've been told I can't. I think that might be it.

Bat doesn't seem to mix well with silence. He buckles under the pressure, first by plastering a few new emotions on his faceplate (He settles on a tonally inappropriate smiley face- I guess this is how he forces a smile?), and then by saying, in a rush, "Look, if you're worried about getting caught, don't be. I'd be right there with you, and I can delete you from any logs you end up in."

I quirk an eyebrow. "You'll be with me?" I ask, doubtfully.

"I mean, uh. Digitally. You know. I'll be monitoring you, and inside the system," he says, and his mask becomes a blushy face. "And if what you find in that room doesn't convince you to listen, then... well, then we're done, I guess. But I wouldn't be here if I wasn't confident."

He closes the distance between us, and I let him. He holds out a gloved hand, and asks, "Whaddaya say? Frenemies?"

That's the last little nudge I need, and I won't pretend the fact that Bat's being a huge dork about this has nothing to do with it- I have a soft spot for dorks, as it happens. I clasp the proffered hand tight.

"Frenemies," I repeat, and we shake on that promise. A happy, pointless little thought occurs to me, and I say, “You know, if we’re ever not actively on opposite sides of a corporate war, there’s someone I’d really like to introduce you to.”

The handshake lingers, though not uncomfortably- this moment of truce is a soothing balm to the months of fighting each other, and I don’t think either of us want to be the one to end it. Plus, you know. I like Bat. We can hold hands a little if we want.

Finally, Bat’s faceplate changes- an angry face, again, though it doesn’t remotely match the cheer in his voice as he exclaims, “We’ve been frenemies for ten seconds and you’re already setting me up with someone? Is he at least cute!?”

“You have no idea,” I say, through a laugh. I let the hand drop, and fix the bright LEDs in Bat's mask with a stern glare. "But look, Bat, this isn't going to work twice. If this is just some kind of trick, I’ll…well, I won’t like you anymore.”

I meant it as a joke. There’s really nothing else I could do to him, revenge wise, or at least nothing I’d also be willing to do. And yet, Bat's response is completely sincere, his voice contrasting with the goofy, unchanged expression on his faceplate as he responds, “I know. I hope you can at least believe me when I say that I really, genuinely, do not want that.”

...Then he does change it, into a winky face, which kills the mood a little. I huff out a laugh and say, “Yeah, whatever, man. Listen, I have to go- they’re gonna wonder what I’m looking at.”

I take a few backward steps towards the edge of the roof (the building’s ‘top floor’, I correct myself internally), as Bat replies, “Yeah, it’s been a hot minute. When do you wanna do this?”

My foot lands on scaffolding, and I lean to take a peek over the edge of the building. It’s a long drop to the construction site below, maybe thirty floors. I say, “No time like the present, I guess. I’ve still got my patrol to finish- will you know when I’ve started?”

Bat shoots me a thumbs up. He says, “I can patch into your comm earpiece no problem, so we’ll be able to talk. Give me an hour, then just say 'hey'. We can go from there.”

I look at him a little dubiously. I have no idea where the dude lives, but just getting up here almost knocked him out. Could he even climb down and then get back to his secret bat-cave in time for that?

I gesture over my back with a thumb, and ask, “Do you, uh- do you want a lift down?”

He laughs, sounding just a little uncomfortable. Arms crossed, he says, “Um, no, I’m okay actually. Thanks.”

I insist, “You’re gonna have to climb all the way down. I can get you there in like ten seconds.”

“Or in like, one second…” he mutters, and he hesitantly joins me over at the edge. He takes a peek down at the street below, and shivers. “God, how do you do that?”

“It was scary at first,” I admit. I don’t mention that I still haven’t stopped having those nightmares where my power stops working mid flight and I plummet to the ground, because I’m not sure if that'd be much of a comfort. I step off the edge of the building, where I do not fall, but instead do a languorous midair twirl to face him (I can admit to showing off a little). I say, “Come on, you’ve seen me catch rocks big enough I think they technically count as continents. I can carry two people.”

Bat says, dryly, “Yeah, don't get Badger started on that. She says that fighting you just boils down to us finding fun new ways to give you ammunition.”

“What was it you said? You hope we can trust each other?” I ask, cutting through his nervous snark. I hold out my hand. "I’m not gonna make you, but- look, do you really think I’d just let you fall?”

"I know you wouldn't," he said, and he takes my hand, holding it tight.

#villainous nights #lovestruck voltage #lovestruck #lovestruck fanfiction

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painted-devils-if · 1 year

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Can i expect a greatly written enemies to lovers trope in this book? Like joss x mc in ILW?

Excellent question, anon, truly

So one of the Jocelyn writers, Alex, will be writing for Juliette Lancaster. Juliette, ruthlessly intelligent and ambitious, will be your academic rival. So if you’re looking for similar tropes I give you rivals to lovers with Juliette!

Though, if I’m being honest anon, pretty much everyone will have some kind of dislike to love arc, it’s the nature of dark academia. Trust nobody and nobody trusts you 🖤

#anon #ask #writer maggie #juliette lancaster

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liaromancewriter · 2 years

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Double Trouble

Premise: When it comes to cheering each other up, these twins know exactly what to do.

Book: Open Heart (post series, adjacent) Characters: Eloise Ramsey, Sophie Ramsey (OC Children) of Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Warning: Strong language Words: 2,015

A/N: Technically, this is more of an original story with original characters, but set in my Open Heart universe. Hope you enjoy it.

Submission for @choicesaugustchallenge Day 4 prompt “popcorn”. Inspired by no.3 from the @creativepromptsforwriting Protective Family prompts list. Submit for reblog to @creativepromptfills

She drove like a demon, zigzagging the nifty little convertible up I-95, a woman on a mission. She’d started the two-hour journey with the top down, her long brown stuffed under a Red Sox cap, reluctantly putting up the roof when rain clouds opened up near Princeton.

An eclectic playlist of classic rock, blues, hip-hop and contemporary hits blasted away, her soulful voice joining in the chorus when the mood called for it. Her green eyes sparkled with joy as she recalled the last road trip with her twin and how they’d played car karaoke to pass the time.

The rain was a distant memory by the time Eloise Ramsey exited the Lincoln Tunnel and drove through Midtown Manhattan and into the Upper West Side. She entered the security code for the underground garage, waited for the gate to close behind her and then zipped her car into the assigned spot minutes later.

Checking her wristwatch as the elevator ascended, she roughly calculated the time it would take to hike eight blocks to the dance studio near Lincoln Center. She had just enough time to drop off her overnight bag and grab a bottle of water. Perfect timing.

A haunting melody filled the air, telling the story of love found and love lost, of obstacles to face, and evil to defeat. The dancers faced the mirror and moved in sync with the music, arms and feet starting in first position and ending in fifth; following directions of a demanding instructor whose talent had once graced the most storied stages in the ballet world.

Lost in the intricacies of the choreography, Sophie Ramsey’s body flowed effortlessly with the music while her green eyes sharpened in concentration. Her foot barely touched the wooden floor as she executed a series of pirouettes, her arms in first position, holding her chest and keeping her breathing measured.

“Good job, everyone. That’s a wrap for today,” clapped Madame Juliette as the sequence came to a close and the dancers deflated where they stood. “Sophie, watch your turnout; the end was slightly wobbly. Emily, tuck in your stomach on first. Remember everyone, we only have three weeks until the fall season opener.”

The door to the studio had barely closed behind Madame when it slammed open and then Sophie was rushing into her sister’s arms. The twins hugged each other close, whispering “I missed you” over and over, and admitting with just those three words how unbearable their separation of the last few weeks had been.

After a lifetime together, for the first time they were living in different cities. El had moved to Philadelphia for grad school last month while Sophie stayed in New York to begin her first professional role in the corps de ballet of the revered American Ballet Theatre company.

Sophie was the first to pull back. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have classes today?”

“Just in the morning,” said El, nodding to the departing dancers and accompanying her sister to the far side of the room to collect her things. “I lit out as soon as I saw that asshat’s post. Did Garrett Bloody Davenport the Fourth seriously break up with you on Picta?” She frowned as she recalled the notification that had popped up on her phone with the words ‘Finally free’. “What kind of fucked up fuckhead does that? And to my sister of all people?”

Sophie silently groaned as El continued making up inventive and insulting names for her ex-boyfriend with every sentence. She pulled on trackpants and a hoodie over her tights and leotard, sat down to put her sneakers on, and waited for her sister to finish her tirade.

“Why am I more upset about this than you?” El demanded, brows snapping together, hands on her hips, and looking too much like Doctor Ramsey facing off against innocent interns (a comparison they’d heard from their mother on more than one occasion).

Sophie sighed and uncrossed her legs to get off the floor in a single fluid motion, swinging her dance bag over one shoulder.

“He bruised my ego, not my heart,” she said, reaching for her sister’s hand. “Did it hurt coming into work today and have everyone staring at their phone, whispering about me? Yes. He didn’t even have the decency to tell me first. But, I have a season opener to get ready for and I won’t throw away everything I worked so hard for because of him. Besides, he was not my soulmate. It’s that simple.”

“Well, I want to chop his balls off and feed them, inch by inch, to the bottom-feeders in the Hudson,” exclaimed El, throwing her hands up in exasperation at her sister’s calm demeanor.

“Why not the East River?” mused Sophie curiously. “It’s more polluted.”

“The chemical runoff in the Hudson is worse,” El shrugged. “Looks can be deceiving, just like Garrett Buttface Davenport the Fourth.”

Sophie burst into laughter as much at the nonchalance in her sister’s voice as the childish insult. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Ditto,” El grinned and slung an arm around Sophie’s shoulder as they walked out of the studio and outside into the street “I’m taking you out tonight to celebrate your freedom from that jerkwad . Tits out, skirts up, a little dancing and a whole lotta drinking. The Ramsey Twins are taking Manhattan and no one’s safe!”

Later that night, a town car stopped outside a nondescript building in the Meatpacking District with a line of potential club patrons waiting to enter. The bouncer saw two attractive young women climb out of a car looking and smelling like money and waved them through before the paparazzies could even aim their devices, much to El and Sophie’s delight.

True to El’s word, their dresses were short enough and heels high enough to make the most of their legs, and at almost five-feet-eleven there was a lot of leg on display. And while their tits weren’t exactly out, the expensive fabric hugged the curves so that more than a few eyes tracked their movements as soon they entered the club.

Swirling lights, loud, pumping music, and the energy inside was intoxicating and the looks they received flattering enough to quickly forget hurt pride and a bruised ego. With a silent exchange and a nod, they descended to the packed dancefloor and joined the crowd feeding off of the adrenaline and dancing to the DJ mixing the tunes.

Sophie placed her hands on El’s shoulders and they let the fast-paced rhythm carry them away, long, dark hair swinging around them. When the beat changed and everyone started jumping, they held on, laughing as they turned their backs to each other, hips twisting, hands in the air, letting their bodies vibe with the music.

They held hands as they changed sides, and switched up partners every now and then, matching their steps to that of other dancers under the pulsating lights. But always they found each other. And when the DJ took a break, the sisters were breathless, falling into each other’s arms and giggling as their legs protested the vigorous exercise in high heels.

“Water,” panted Sophie. “I’m begging you!”

“No way, sis,” El said, leading Sophie to the bar where she caught the eye of a cute bartender and placed their order.

“Hydration after dancing is better than alcohol,” Sophie pouted, her throat parched from thirst.

El scoffed as Sophie knew she would. “Clearly I came back just in time if that’s your first thought. We’re young, we’re beautiful, and we’re in New York’s hottest club right now. We’re doing shots!”

The bartender returned with their drinks, lining up six rainbow-colored shots in front of them with a wink. El picked up one and so did Sophie.

“Alright, you know the rul…” El began but Sophie threw back the first shot in one quick move, slamming the empty glass down and picking up another.

“You snooze, you lose,” she smirked and the race was on to see who’d finish first. It was too close to call and, with the bartender playing referee, they agreed on a tie.

Sophie glanced around the club and thought back to how many of these places El had dragged her to, even back home in Boston. Whether it was with their group of friends or cousins, or just the two of them, her sister had a way of making a night out fun and memorable.

Tears gathered as she remembered that El was only here for today and tomorrow she would be alone again.

“Uh-oh,” El teased. “If this is about Asshole the Fourth, we’re going to need more shots.” She started to lift her hand to order more but Sophie shook her head.

“I wouldn’t waste my tears on that moldy bowl of mayonnaise,” Sophie said dismissively and then her expression became crestfallen. “I hate that you’re not down the hall anymore. The room is still yours, of course, but it’s not the same! Soon you’re going to be too busy with classes and working in the Philly hotel and won’t have time to come up here whenever.”

She peered into her sister’s eyes, a mirror of her own just like the rest of her and could tell that El felt the same. They could read each other perfectly, always had. Growing up sucked if it meant their careers would take them away from each other.

“Let’s get out of here,” El said, reaching for her credit card to pay for their drinks. “Slumber party back at our place?”

“Popcorn with extra butter, M&Ms, and gummy bears?” asked Sophie, perking up.

“Is there any other way to eat popcorn?” El quipped with a twist of her lips.

They pushed their way through the wall-to-wall crowd that had grown in the last hour or so, heading towards the exit. Passing by a booth, Sophie suddenly cried out when someone grabbed her hand and tugged her onto their lap, wrapping their arms tight around her.

“Hey! Get your hands off my sister.”

El reached Sophie instantly, throwing her harasser, who was clearly drunk, a nasty look as she pushed his hands away and started to pull Sophie off him. It would have been fine if right at that moment someone hadn’t crashed into her, causing her to teeter on her heels and fall on the drunken clubgoer.

Unfortunately for him, when El’s hands tried to find purchase she smashed his balls into the seat and his high-pitched screams tore through the club. The more she struggled to get off him, the worse it became until, thankfully, Sophie was able to pull her upright and hold her arm for balance.

By then the club��s security had been alerted to the altercation and minutes later both Sophie and El found themselves being unceremoniously shown out of the club’s back door.

“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod…” Sophie broke off into giggles. “Did we just get thrown out of New York’s hottest club?!?”

“Hmm. And we didn’t even have to punch someone like mom and Uncle Max did,” said El, laughing as she jumped on Sophie’s back, locking her hands around her collarbone.

Sophie laughed too as they spun around the semi-lit alley. “Nope, we just neutered some poor guy who was too drunk to know what he was doing and will likely have sore balls courtesy of the Ramsey Twins.”

“He messed with the wrong twins,” said El, taking her phone out of a tiny purse to text their driver. “Did it work?” She asked, pocketing the phone as they started to walk towards the mouth of the alley.

Sophie looked over confused and then her face cleared as she remembered what tonight was about. “Don’t even remember his name.”

“Right answer.”

Later that night as they sat on the floor munching on popcorn and sharing confidences, they knew that life was full of uncertainties. But the one thing Eloise and Sophie could be certain of was that they would always stand up for each other. It was them against the world. Sisters. Twins. Always.

All Fics & Edits: @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @bex-la-get @mysticalgalaxysstuff @genevievemd @choicesaddict5 @jerzwriter @rookiemartin @schnitzelbutterfingers @vi-writes-stuff @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @dorisz @zahrachoices @lucy-268 @a-crepusculo @jamespotterthefirst @ofmischiefandmedicine @headoverheelsforramsey @takemyopenheart @gryffindordaughterofathena @queencarb @crazy-loca-blog @natureblooms24

Ethan & Cassie only: @custaroonie @lady-calypso

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #open heart fanfics #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine #oc children #short story #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choicesaugust2022

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megatraven · 1 year

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If you could have a poly/ot3 route with any two LIs (so the MC dates both of them and they date each other) which ones would you pick? 😁

i think i'd have to go with Alex x MC x Medusa for my top OT3 that i'd want! i already think about it a lot, it would just be so fantastic <333

but i'd also really REALLY enjoy:

Abel x MMC x Lucas Lucien x MC x Roman Vivienne x MC x Zoe Andi x MC x Lorelei Andi x MC x Juliette Antonio x MC x Diego (it would be so fucking funny) Alain x MC x Helena (but i dont want helena and alain dating each other tho) Mackenzie x MC x Annabelle who i know technically isn't an LI but 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 Aurora x Astoria MC x Medusa (this is a guilty pleasure ship tbh) Arin x FMC x Nora Jessa x Alien MC x Nav (but again i dont want Jessa and Nav dating each other) JD x MC x Razi (again. hilarious potential.) Jett x MC x Remy Renzei x MC x Zeke Cal x MC x Darius (AGAIN. WOULD BE VERY FUNNY.) Alex x MC x Hydra Alex x MC x Astraeus

im gonna stop before i just list every possible ot3 combo one could imagine :^) thanks for asking though, i really like indulging in my ot3s :)

#lovestruck voltage #lovestruck

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harleybeaumont · 2 years

Text

Shut Up And Dance With Me

One Shot from - Love Me The Way I Am

Book - TRR AU one shot

Pairings- Maxwell x MC (Harley)

Synopsis - Maxwell and Harley have a dance party in Ramsford late one night.

A/N- This is from my story Love Me The Way I Am, between Part 1 and Part 2 (which will be out soon!) You don’t need to have read my fic in order to enjoy this one shot. ❤️

A/N 2- Every time I hear this song it makes me think of Maxwell, so I knew this story had to be written! There’s a nice dose of Maxwell’s sweet soul and endearing nonsense.🥰

🎵 🎶 Song Inspiration- Shut Up And Dance by Walk The Moon (listen to it here!😊)

Warnings- just a bit of language, but mostly fluff

Word Count- 2,580

*I’m tagging some people who have read LMTWIA before or who I think might be interested in this! Don’t feel obligated to read! ❤️

Lyrics will appear in bold.

Shut Up And Dance With Me!

11:00 pm and here I am thinking about her again. Not like it’s an uncommon thing for me. She occupies my brain nearly twenty four hours a day. Though, not only my brain.. I finally know what they meant by someone taking over your mind, body, and soul. That’s Harley Hughes, alright. My Harley.

I pull out my phone, rereading the texts from today, the cute little emojis and ‘I love you’s’ filling my heart with nearly unbearable joy. I never thought someone would love me the way she does. Through all my flaws.. my idiocy, my impulsiveness, my ‘through the roof’ energy. She loves me through it all. And God, I love her.

I sigh and put my phone away. How can you already miss someone who you just saw two hours ago? Ugh, tomorrow morning can't come soon enough. I think I’ll make her breakfast. Even though we both suck at cooking, we have a lot of fun trying. Harley burns nearly everything she touches, and for some reason, I never cook anything long enough. Most mornings we end up eating cereal.

A knock at the door causes me to nearly drop the phone on my face as I’m laying in bed. Yes, I was reading her texts again. God, I’m so far gone.

I open the door and standing before me is my beautiful goddess, wearing a backless dress and some beat up sneaks. Her face has been scrubbed clean of all her makeup and her long brown hair is pulled back in a messy bun. She’s absolutely gorgeous. I feel my heart jumping out of my chest as she smiles at me.

“Hey!” Harley throws herself against me and hugs me tightly. God she smells so good. Like honeysuckle and cupcakes all mixed together. Note to self: Try to make honeysuckle cupcakes one day.

“I missed you!” She says blushing. “I know it’s stupid to talk about missing someone when you literally just saw them a couple hours ago but-”

I grab her hand and bring her toward me for a kiss, cutting her off. “I missed you too, beautiful.”

She blushes and I’m sure I am too. No one has ever had that effect on me. Maxwell Beaumont has always been cool as a cucumber, but with her.. I’m anything but.

“Do you wanna come in?” I open the door wider and step back.

She smiles and says, “I have a better idea! If you’re up for it.”

I am officially intrigued and one hundred percent up for anything and everything this woman wants to do. “Hell yes!”

“You don't wanna know what it is first?”

I shrug, “Are you gonna be there?”

“Yesss.”

“Then I’m up for it! It doesn't matter what it is, as long as I get to be near you,” I say and she blushes again. God, I’ll never get tired of seeing her like that.

“Then throw some shoes on and let’s go to the ballroom.”

I gasp. “The ballroom?” I think I know where this is going! “You don’t mean.. Impromptu dance party?!?!”

Harley giggles, “Let’s go and you’ll find out!” She loves dancing almost as much as I do, even trying to learn some break dancing moves for me. No one ever gave a shit about that before. Harley is my discotheque, Juliette, teenage dream.

I’m wearing sweatpants and a white undershirt and Bertrand would be mortified if he knew I came downstairs dressed in anything so casual.. Even though no one is here besides us. I could run through the halls naked and no one would know. And believe me, I’ve done it. It was so freeing until I crashed into one of the housekeepers who was working late. But that’s a humiliating story for another time. “Shouldn't I change?”

“No way! We’re being spontaneous, Max!” She grabs a pair of tennis shoes from my closet and starts putting them on my feet. It would probably seem silly to most people, but the gesture makes me fall for her a little more. I may be a grown man, but it’s really nice to have someone want to take care of you every once in a while. “There.” She looks up from the ground in front of me, and my breath catches, just like the first time I made eye contact with that beautiful waitress in New York. I swear even back then, I felt it in my chest as she looked at me. And nothing has changed.

I pull her up and we make our way down the stairs, trying and failing not to giggle at the thought of waking up Bertrand. Although it is Wednesday night.. He’s probably watching his telenovelas.

Harley pauses outside of the door to the ballroom and tells me to wait as she slips inside. Suddenly I see neon lights from under the crack in the door and hear music blasting. Oh my god she planned this! She actually planned this for me! I am trying my hardest not to cry.

“Ta-daaa!” She throws open the doors dramatically and part of the ballroom is lit up like a middle school dance. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life! Strobing neon lights and streamers adorn a corner of the ballroom. But the best sight is Harley giving me that bright, hopeful smile. From the moment I first saw that smile directed at me, I knew we were bound to be together.. Well at least I hoped we would be!

She took my arm and pulled me inside, smiling brightly. “What do you think?”

Damn it, I’m crying. Why am I such a fucking crybaby? “Harley.. Did you do all this yourself?”

“Of course I did! Although I don't know how it happened so smoothly! I had to sneak all this stuff past Bertrand when he was in his study!”

“I’m truly in shock.” I say as I grab her hand, leading her toward the dance floor and the flashing lights..

We took the floor and she said, “I know it’s kinda corny, but is it.. ok?

“Okay!?!?! It’s the best damn thing anyone has ever done for me!”

Though it’s hard to tell through the strobing neon lights, I see a slight blush tint her beautiful cheeks and I stoop down to kiss them.

She closes her eyes and smiles. “So.. what are we waiting for?”

The music is calling me and I feel it in my bones. Harley has already started swaying her hips and places my hands against them. She gets up on her toes and gives me a heated kiss that I feel all the way down to my... feet. Uh, ya my feet. Try to keep your mind PG tonight, Maxwell!

I’m so wrapped up in her that I almost forget to close the ballroom doors.. Don’t want Bertrand to hear the music and ruin everything. I pull away from her and she grabs my hands, pulling me back as she stares into my eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes. “Oh, don't you dare look back. Just keep your eyes on me.” She brought my hands behind her and placed them onto that amazing ass.. So much for PG thoughts!

I gulp. “Um, no problem there.” Why was I even looking away in the first place? No idea.

Harley asked if I could show her some break dancing moves. Oh yes.. My time to shine. They don't call me ‘secret agent break dance’ for nothing. Or maybe it’s just me who says that. Aaaanyway..

I drop down to the floor and bust a move like there’s no tomorrow! Handstands, flips, spins.. And that one move I trademarked that got me the gold in the European Breakdancing Championship. I call it ‘The Squid’s Justice’. Ya, that one nearly gave me a concussion the first fifty times I tried it. Bertrand forbade me from ever doing it again, but what he doesn’t know wont hurt him. The whole point is that your arms and legs are spinning so quickly that you can't tell how many limbs you have and you kinda look like a squid. Ya, it’s bad ass.

“Oh my god, Max!” Harley gasps as I perfectly execute ‘The Squid’s Justice’. In your face, Bertrand! “That looks way too hard for me to do! I’ll just stick to shaking my ass!”

“Hey, you know I’ll never object to that!” I laugh but I am one hundred percent truthful. That ass is.. Muah! Chefs kiss.

Harley slowly drops down to the floor, making eye contact with me over her shoulder. I’m trying to keep my cool and not let her see how much it affected me. Maybe if I tease her, I can get her to do it again. I said, “You’re holding back, Harley. I’ve seen you go even lower at the club.”

She laughs, seeing completely through me as usual. “I know what you’re doing!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” I lie, trying to keep a straight face.

Harley gives me a smirk. “Maxwell..” she said, “Shut up and dance with me!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

I grab her hand and twirl her while she laughs. I love seeing her let loose and dance with abandon. I watch her spinning and jumping around, the loud music and the strobing lights surround her, and my heart swells. How did I ever find someone so perfect? This woman is my destiny.

I lift Harley off of the ground and she squeals, clinging to my shirt like I’m going to drop her. There’s no way. If I ever felt like I was going to drop her, I’d do the chivalrous thing and let her fall on top of me to cushion her fall. Maxwell Beaumont was raised to be a gentleman, after all.

I grab her from behind and lift her and she spreads her arms out dramatically. She said, “Woohoo! I’m queen of the world!”

I can’t help but laugh. She is just the best, most ridiculous person ever. Well, maybe the second most ridiculous person. But that’s another reason why I love her. “You know that’s not the exact quote, Harley. It’s actually I’m king of the world!”

“Oh my god, Maxwell just shut up and dance with me!” She shimmies towards me then drops into an ungraceful cartwheel. “You think you can keep up with this?” She is clearly trying to hide her laughter.

It’s hard not to crack up at that display, but I try to keep a serious expression. “Oh, come on girl, you ain't seen nothing yet!”

We take turns twirling each other and laughing and having the best time ever. Her messy bun has almost completely fallen out and her wavy locks cascade across her shoulders and over the bare back of her dress. I dip her and look deep in her eyes, and the love I see is almost too much to bear. Those eyes that I always feared would never see me the way she sees me, are looking at me the way no one has before. Those eyes that I always imagined would look at Liam with that much adoration, are locked on mine. She’s here, not looking at The King, but the Court Jester. Sometimes it’s surreal to think she wants to be with me.

When I pull her close and close my eyes, I swear I think I see the future. My future. Our future. Up until I met Harley, I didn’t give a crap about my future. I was always just living for the moment, partying, and had basically given up on ever having a relationship. But now I'm dancing with the love of my life.. And hopefully I’ll get to dance with her every day for the rest of my life.

We dance into the night, and I see Harley is starting to fade. And I’d never let on, but so am I. Even ‘secret agent break dance’ needs to rest every now and then! I realize this is my last chance to show off an epic move before both of us pass out, so I’m bringing out the big guns. We’re about to go full on Dirty Dancing in here.

“Baby, get ready for the lift!” I yell and Harley gives me a confused look.

“The lift! Come on Baby, Johnny’s got you!”

“Oh god, Max are you sure?!” She quirks an eyebrow.

“Am I sure? Am I sure?! Listen, nobody puts Baby in a corner!”

She puts her hand on her forehead like she always does when she's worried. “Max, that has absolutely nothing to do with what I just asked-”

“Get ready!” I jog backwards and hold my arms out. I’m gonna Patrick Swayze the hell out of this.

Harley looks scared as hell, but God love her, she still runs at me full steam, pausing just in front of me to leap. I grab her waist and lift her straight over my head, and for a few glorious seconds she is hoisted in the air, arms spread wide like an eagle in flight. The clouds part as the angels sing ‘Time of My Life’, and even Patrick Swayze himself descends from the heavens to give me a thumbs up.

But.. apparently to do a lift you need a lot of upper arm strength. I started wobbling and she took my arm, trying to hold on for dear life.

Oh my god, we’re going down! I don’t know how it happened.. Ok ya, I do. I skipped ‘arm day’ at the gym a few too many times.. Ok, I don’t go to the gym. I get these guns from break dancing.

Before I know it, we’re both crashing unceremoniously to the ground. And of course I allow myself to cushion her fall. Didn’t I say I would?! We both stare at each other for a moment before Harley starts laughing hysterically. Yes, my pride is wounded, but that laugh is contagious and soon I’m joining in. Despite crashing to the floor, this has been one of the best nights of my life.

Harley stands and pulls me to my feet, still chuckling. “Come on, babe. We definitely need to end on a better note than that!”

I rub my back and smile at her. “You’re so right. Sorry I’m such an idiot!”

She gives me that warning look and I backtrack. “Ok, sorry.. I’m not an idiot! I know I’m not supposed to say that word anymore.”

“None of those self-deprecating words!” She chides me. She’s so cute when she looks angry. Her cute little nose wrinkles and I just have to kiss it.

“I love you, Harley Quinn.” I kiss her forehead, nose, and lips.

She grabbed my hand and led me back toward the flashing lights. We took the floor and she said with a grin, “I love you too, my handsome Joker. Now let’s finish up with a freestyle!”

We both bust out our best and worst dance moves, laughing into the night. And at that moment, nothing in the world could make me happier.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Oh, don't you dare look back

Just keep your eyes on me"

I said, "You're holding back"

She said, "Shut up and dance with me!"

This woman is my destiny

She said, "Ohh hoo

Shut up and dance!"