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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult.

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better.

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face.

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions.

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery.

Wait, hold up, it gets worse.

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that.

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance. I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

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agentofscifi · 4 years

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Super Genius Marinette Ch. 1

So, I read Marinette: Iron Man Rising & Ladybug: Young Avenger by @unmaskedagain and total loved them. Then I got the idea, what if Marinette was Ironman’s kid. I know there’s been a lot of BioDad ideas for Marinette and I wanted to try this one out. Hope you guys love it!

I stare down at my classmates over the top of my iPad. They were all chatting away about random things they would be doing during the summer and their pool party celebration after final exams. There were a few pointed jabs at me by Alya and Lila, but I simply ignored them. They’d gotten worse this year after it was revealed that I supposedly forced Lila to lie about having a lying disease to get out my expulsion the year previous. I simply rolled my eyes at their naivety. Coming next fall, this entire class would crash and burn.

My class had a lot of potential, however, they never really did anything with it. It didn’t help that this entire room ran itself off of my scheduling, reminders, and fundraising due to my class representative job. I was still kind of angry at myself for taking the job. I was already juggling a lot of work. Being Ladybug was time-consuming enough, adding on class representative duties put me behind in my real studies. That was one secret I had been harboring for years. I am a child genius and the daughter of the famous Tony Stark.

When my mother was young she had a brief one night stand with my biological father, Tony Stark, while on vacation. When my mother was just a few months pregnant, she met my Papa at baking class. They started dating and ended up opening a store together. When I was just 1, they married. Now, shortly after my birth, my Mama called my Dad to inform him that she was pregnant. A DNA test was done on the sly. My father never revealed that he had a child and my existence was kept a secret. So secret that only my Father, Mama, Papa, Aunt Pepper, Uncle Rhodes, Uncle Happy, my Papa’s parents, and my Mama’s parents knew about it. A small circle that somehow remained small.

My father sent birthday gifts, called and video chatted, and he even attended a ceremony in Paris when I was a child. However, all three of my parents wanted me to have a normal life. It was slightly more difficult when I managed to trick-out a computer at four and fix household appliances at six. They ended up sending me to a specialized école élémentarie. I was put on a fast-tracked schedule that had a lot of self-studying and online learning. If I kept to the schedule, I would graduate from Lycée at 14 and started University at 15. A few months younger than my father.

I, however, insisted on attending normal school to keep up with kids my age. I didn’t care as much about starting university at an unusual age. I did skip a grade, however, as I couldn’t hide all of my knowledge. So, I started at a regular école élémentarie. Classes were general alright, I enjoyed the literature classes and speed through the science and math classes. I mostly did my advanced work in class. As long as I turned in my homework and wasn’t bothering people, my teachers didn’t care. Chloe did put a bit of a damper on friendships, as no one wanted to anger the Mayor’s daughter. However, I still enjoyed regular school.

When I started Collége Françoise Dupont, at age 10, I was already through the first year of the materials. It got easier with me being in Madame Bustier’s class. She was a nice teacher but didn’t control her classroom very well. For two years I managed to do my advanced work without her ever knowing. Frankly, her relaxed environment made it easier for me to work ahead. When I started my third year of Collége, I had done all of the materials already. A year and a ½ of studying in a year’s worth of time.

Of course, this is when it got messy. I received the Ladybug miraculous and made some real friends, or so I thought. All of this was fun and great, but it made working ahead more difficult. Adding on Ladybug work and class representative work made it possible for me to only do a year’s worth of Lycée work in a year.

Father called, a little worried, but I easily calmed him down. I was still three years ahead of everyone else, plus adding on all of my design work and my class representative duties would make my college application even better. Less studying gave me more time to do independent work. My pseudonym, Maria, created several green energy products, three different popular apps, and an extremely lightweight, flame-resistant, and shrapnel resistant line for firefighters. I was a success, and I would continue to be, despite all of Lila’s mechanisms. Either way, I was in the last few hours of class with these idiots. Starting next fall, I’d be attending MIT in Massachusetts.

I had a small, personal graduation from my specialized Lycée a week ago. I sent my transcripts from both my specialized Lycée and one from Lycée Françoise Dupont. I did get Madame Mandeleiev to help me get video footage of Lila framing me for my expulsion and write a letter explaining the issue of my rescinded expulsion on my record. A brief phone call and an email containing the Ladyblog link told MIT everything they needed to know about my classroom. I did get asked why I stayed. Truthfully, I wanted to see this through. After Lila’s return in the second half of my Troisieme year, I started collecting evidence against the Collége and Lycée Françoise Dupont for enabling bullies, extreme favoritism, and incompetence.

“Marinette?” I glance up from my iPad to see Madame Bustier looking at me. The entire class is now looking at me. Lila is smirking next to Bustier. “Can you apologize to Lila?”

I raise one eyebrow. “What am I apologizing to Lila about?”

“For your rude and threatening words earlier, before class started, in the locker room.” Madame Buster speaks to me as if I am a small child. She’d done that to me for a while because I skipped a year. She seemed to think that because I was a year younger than everyone else, I need to be treated like a child. After Lila’s arrival, she became even more condescending.

I glance at the clock really quickly. 2 minutes until the bell and just a few hours until I would be flying first class to New York. “I didn’t go to the locker room this morning Madame Bustier.”

Mrs. Bustier sighs. Lila smirks before sobbing loudly. It sounded horrible and fake, like some cheap amateur actress. “Oh, Marinette. I didn’t want to make a big deal about this. I just wanted you to apologize for your mean words and for stealing my iPad-I mean, oops!” Lila’s shirk is back, but the entire class misses it to turn to glare at me. Then the comments started.

“Dude, stealing is not cool!”

“Stop being such a bully!”

“I thought we could trust you!”

“I can’t believe this! I used to think you were such a good person.”

“Just give Lila back the iPad, Marinette.”

I roll my eyes, putting the iPad in my hand into my bag. “File a report.”

There’s silence. “What?” Lila looks at me in confusion.

“File a report. If I really stole this iPad from you, go to the police. Have them do an investigation.” The bell rings above us and I stand from my seat. Everyone is still in the same spots, too stunted by my declaration to do anything.

I walk down the stairs until I’m in front of Mrs. Bustier. I pull out a file and hand it to her. “I’m unable to be Class Representative next year. This is everything I need to hand over for my successor. All of the money earned for the Graduation trip in two years is in the class savings account. I left a page detailing how much was earned at each event this year.”

I move to leave the room, but Mrs. Bustier steps in front of me. “Marinette, we talked about this. The Marinette of the world, setting an example.”

I met Mrs. Bustier’s eyes with a flat look. “Mrs. Bustier, I have a flight to catch, please move.”

“Marinette!” She sighs, but I had already moved around her.

Chaos starts to erupt behind me in the classroom. Students yelling about me being childish, some saying Lila should press charges, and others saying that they should just enjoy me being gone. Either way, it was no longer my problem. I didn’t have time for stupid people.

#lila salt #alya salt #miraculous ladybug #avengers #marinette deserves better #Marinette is Tony Stark's kid #class salt #bustier salt #tony stark #peter parker #marvel #super genius marinette

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imagination-is-key-in-my-world · 4 years

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Chime

Authors Note: I am 100% a big fan of A Cinderella Story which is what had inspired me to write this piece. I know it has been a long time since I had written anything but a lot has been going on in my life. This story is inspired by my own mental health issues as well as my ultimate dream that Tom Holland would sweep me off my feet. [Do not tell my Fiancé that I told you guys that!] Also, I got a brand-new laptop that has made writing so much more efficient than my iPad. Hopefully, I will be more active on my page. Please feel free to contact me to share your thoughts.

Summary: So, you are currently struggling with anxiety which is not easy as a high school student. Things are not getting easier now that your best friend is leaving to go to another school, leaving you behind to deal with your senior year alone. That is how you feel every day – alone. But your life suddenly changes when you stumble across an app that allows people to chat anonymously with people who share similar interests without sharing too much. Only you did not expect that this new app would take over your life and provide you with someone who you no longer think you could cope without. But who is on the other end of the phone?

Warning: Possible swearing and mental health triggers.

Pairing: Reader x Tom Holland

Word Count: 6,758

Counting the dew drops on the window was getting completely tedious at this point. There you sat in complete silence for what must have been a couple of minutes. But to you, it had felt like hours, if not days. Not that you were being dramatic at all.

You are not exactly the type of person who many people would typically associate with the nature of popularity. You did not have that many followers on your social media accounts. Therefore, it should not have been that surprising that your phone was not “blowing” up with notifications at this time of day.

Your best friend Cleo always told you that if you wanted to make something of your life, you needed to leave the house for more than just school.

“But!” You would always protest, “everything I need is right here.” Cleo was one member of a small social group that you bothered with both in and outside of school. When it came to forming groups in class, all your teachers knew that you needed to be put with a friend or you would be catastrophically unresponsive with a slight hint of a mini meltdown beginning to form.

The thing is you suffer with a high level of anxiety when it comes to meeting and conversing with people outside of your friendship circle. To make matters worse, the whole school was aware of this problem and would constantly tease and mimic the blubbering mess you turned into when you had to answer a question in the middle of class. There would be pointing as well as laughing as you would literally shake and break a sweat in front of everyone. Let us just say, this may have been one of the many reasons that your group only had 5 members and that includes you and queen Cleo.

The phone chimed and it shook you from your thoughts. When you finally unlocked it, you noticed that it was only Cleo cancelling on you yet again. Earlier that evening you had asked Cleo to come over and discuss the nature of Cleo moving schools in the fall. Both of you were meant to discuss how you personally were going to cope with the everyday torment and painful endeavours that was a big part of school life. But from that disappointed look on your face, it was obvious that Cleo was only blowing you off to spend more time with her new boyfriend.

“Knock knock” Your mother stated as she blatantly barged into your room. “Hey baby, I’m going to the store do you need anything at all?” As per usual you would shake your head and try not to make any eye contact with your mother at all. “Okay, well make sure that you feed the dog for me while I am gone and try and get some sun, you’re looking a little pale, baby.”

It was typical of your mother to attempt to force you out of your comfort zone. It was getting quite embarrassing for her at the teacher/parent evenings when she was called in to discuss another “issue.” It is not like you do not want to make more of an effort in class and with people, it just does not come as easy to you as it may for everyone else. The idea of people hearing you call out an answer in class and have it been wrong is absolutely devastating and crucifying for you.

You picked up your phone and decided that Facebook was worth one last scroll through before you decide that it was worthless and throw your phone back onto the bed for the 14th time that day. You were scrolling away half-heartedly, not really reading through the posts that people had shared as it was probably the same drama that it always was. It was as you thought, but suddenly your mind decided to switch back on when it reached a pop up that you would typically ignore. “Attention all Introverts.” Obviously, this caught your attention, it was in freaking bold print. You cannot ignore anything when it is in bold print! Clicking on the link, you decided to curiously read on.

“Attention all Introverts,

Have you ever felt lonely and isolated? Well this is the app for you. Become anyone you want to be, talk to anyone you would like – with total anonymity.

[This app gives you the confidence to express yourself to total strangers without the fear of judgements. If you are terrified of being vulnerable around other people while being your true self, then this is the app for you]”

Of course, you were sceptical at first but that was when you remembered how difficult it was to be your friend, relative and even teacher. Then before you could even stop yourself, you clicked onto the app and the download began. Nothing happened at all, other than the app appearing onto your phone’s home screen amongst other apps like Tumblr and Facebook. But you just thought there was going to be a sudden flash of lightning and you would be overwhelmed with confidence like you see in the movies. However, this was not the movies, this was your life and there you sat on the edge of your bed still shaking like a leaf.

It took you about half an hour to install all of your relevant information into the app. Mostly because you were trying to convince yourself that it was a stupid idea and that you should just delete it straight away. Although there was a faint voice in the back of your head telling you to do it. Part of it sounded like Cleo, while another part of the voice sounded like a stranger to you.

Once you had finished setting up the app, you left your phone on your dresser and walked into the lounge to watch that new episode of Ru Paul’s drag race that you had missed on Netflix. You managed to get through two episodes, a giant bag of Cheetos and a litre of Dr Pepper before crashing out on the sofa.

A loud chime from the bedroom woke you from your slumber. Your mother was sat on the edge of the sofa watching one of her true crime documentaries when she noticed you becoming startled.

“You okay honey?” You wipe your eyes and nod. “Do you want anything to eat or are you all set for bed?”

“Bed.” You mumble as you pick up the rubbish that had surrounded you on your makeshift bed for the afternoon.

“Okay, love you honey.” She called back as you threw away the rubbish into the trash and made your way into your bedroom. You practically fell onto your bed before you remembered the chime that had woken you in the first place. Grasping your phone, you unlocked it hesitantly, shielding your eyes from the brightness behind it to reveal a message from an unknown number. One word, one syllable and one emotion, fear.

‘Hey’

In your head these words kept rolling through your mind. What do I do now? Do I message back or do I leave it alone? Will they think I am ignoring them if I do not reply? Well of course they would, the app has probably notified them that it has been read. You started pacing in your bedroom chanting the words over and over in your head ‘What do I do? What do I do?’

It was almost like a reflex after a while as your fingers typed away.

‘HEY’ Too eager

‘Hiya’ Too girly

‘Hi’ Too blunt

Sup’ Too weird

Each message you typed your anxiety took over and criticised it, controlling your fingers to delete and retype.

‘Hey’ Was the message that you had settled for. It had been almost an hour and a half since you had received the message from Lonerboy101 and you had not even pressed send yet. The message was still sitting in your text box with the curser bouncing away at the end of the sentence.

There was a knock at your door which startled you, causing your fingers to slide across the phone’s screen. “I’m going to bed now Hun, goodnight.”

“Night.” You tried hard to sound cheery but as per usual failed to do so as your mother closed your bedroom door. ‘No, no, no’ you repeated in a small murmur. Fear washed over you as you regretted every minute that it took to write that message and the one milli second that it took to get sent out through the universe to reach this Lonerboy101.

You dropped the phone into your duvet and grabbed the pillow next to you. Bringing the plush cushion up to your face, burying it to let out a light scream.

*Chime*

Lonerboy101 - ‘How long did it take you to write that message. Mine took about 2 hours.’

You reread the message a couple of times because you couldn’t believe that although this person knew you were somewhat ignoring him off when you had initially received his message, he still replied to yours. Not only that but he had made a joke about how long it had taken to send a reply.

It took you a couple of minutes to decide whether you were going to go through with it and message this person back. Or whether you should just back out now and forget that this ever happened.

But that was your phone in your hand and those were your fingers typing a reply.

Hidingintheshadows - ‘About an hour and a half.’

You sent the reply off and almost felt a sudden pang of relief. That this was not as bad as you had originally perceived it to be. That it was almost the same as talking to Cleo or any of the other girls.

*Chime*

Lonerboy101 - ‘So, this is weird right?’

Before you knew it, the delays between the messages decreased quite significantly. There was the standard 3 minutes to think of a response and then another 5 to send the message but the conversation had felt a little less risky compared to how it did at the very start.

Hidingintheshadows - ‘It is a bit weird, I guess.’

Lonerboy101 - ‘So, are you an old creepy guy like me?

Hidingintheshadows - ‘That is a joke, right?’

Lonerboy101 - ‘Yeah it is a joke, sorry very dry sense of humour. Don’t have that many people to try my jokes out on.’

Hidingintheshadows - ‘That’s a relief.’

Lonerboy101 - ‘It’s a relief that I do not have many friends?’

Hidingintheshadows - ‘No! I did not mean that! I am so sorry.’

Lonerboy101 - ‘Another joke. Sorry when I am nervous, I tell bad jokes. I forget that I am not really good at them and text form is really hard to tell tone.’

Hidingintheshadows - ‘Sorry for not being able to tell when you’re joking.’

Lonerboy101 - ‘Don’t worry, you wouldn’t be the first. Although you probably are, I only just downloaded this app today.’

Hidingintheshadows - ‘Same.’

Lonerboy101 - ‘You don’t say [type] much do you?’

Hidingintheshadows - ‘Not really, sorry.’

Lonerboy101 - ‘You know you don’t have to keep apologising to me all the time, right?’

Hidingintheshadows - ‘Oh sorry.’

Lonerboy101 - ‘[insert face palm emoji]’

The last message made you smile. Cleo had always been telling you that you apologise way too much and that it can get annoying. It would get to the point where you would apologise for things you did not do just because it sounded like the right thing to say.

Hidingintheshadows - ‘I will work on it.’

Lonerboy101 - ‘So what brings you to Introverted Conversions?’

Hidingintheshadows - ‘Fear of the world and everyone in it, basically.’

Lonerboy101 - ‘Oh my gosh same!’

Hidingintheshadows - ‘Really?’

Lonerboy101 - ‘No, but I am touched that you still cannot sense my sarcasm.’

Hidingintheshadows - ‘I’ll work on that too.’

Lonerboy101 - ‘Promise?’

Hidingintheshadows - ‘Promise!’

It had almost become a routine for you and Lonerboy101 to talk during the late afternoon and evening. Occasionally, you would get notified in the middle of the day, but he knew that you were not ignoring him and that you had school obligations. No one really knows about him at all, you have done well at keeping this away from Cleo as you knew she would only judge you for it.

‘You’re talking to a stranger online who had admitted he was an old creepy man.’ Even the thought made you laugh. Since the first night, you had discovered a lot about Lonerboy101. Nothing like names and addresses. But more personal stuff like how it feels having crippling anxiety and not having someone who really understands.

***

It was the last day before Cleo left for her new school and you woke up feeling quite comfortable for the first time in a long time. It was almost as if your body has finally gotten used to the idea that the day was going to come that you would need to stand up on your own. It was not a good feeling per say, but it was slightly empowering to know that you could become your own person, instead of being Cleo’s weird friend.

*Chime*

Your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest as you practically dove for the phone on your bed. Only to have it violently shoot back down when the name on your lock screen did not read Lonerboy101.

Cleo – ‘Hey, I am downstairs! Snag me a piece of toast considering you are not exactly going to eat it!’

Every morning your mum would make pancakes, French toast, and scrambled eggs that you could choose from to snack on during your walk to school. Only you are not exactly a French toast and scrambled eggs kind of person and she knows that. It is just her way of trying to make a connection with you early in the day.

You – ‘Be right down, pancakes or French toast?’

You replied as you waved to your mum who was sliding through her emails while nursing a hot mug of coffee. “Hey, Baby! Have a great day at school, okay?” The last part of this routine she does every morning always feels like she is questioning you, making sure that you are aware that a ‘great day at school’ depends 100% on you alone.

*Chime*

Lonerboy101 – ‘Pancakes please. Although, I don’t think they will be any good by the time I receive them!’

‘Oh no!’ You thought. You did not think really think to check the contact that you were on when you sent the message out. You had simply read the lock screen and the most recent person you were chatting to was the person that appeared on the screen.

Quickly you grabbed a pancake and your bags and sulked out the door.

Hidingintheshadows – ‘I am so sorry, that was meant for my friend.’

Lonerboy101 – ‘Are we not friends? I am offended’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘Wait no I mean yes you are, but I do not really know you. God I am sorry…’

Lonerboy101 – ‘Wow! What did I say about the apologising? And what about the whole sarcasm thing? You should now know when I am pulling your chain.’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘Sorry’

Lonerboy101 – ‘No. More. Sorry.’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘Damn, I didn’t mean to I swear.’

Lonerboy101 – ‘Calm, it is okay. Chain. Pulling. But going back to this pancake…’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘What about it?’

Lonerboy101 – ‘You have made me hungry. And now I need to go out and find me a pancake to soothe this carb craving I have going on.’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘Good luck with that.’

Lonerboy101 – ‘Good Luck with school today! Speak to you later! X’

What the heck is that? Fear washed over your face as you met Cleo at the bottom of the stairs to your apartment building.

“Y/N? Are you okay? You look a little pale?” It took everything you had to not blurt out every little secret that you had been keeping about Lonerboy101 to Cleo. To almost get some advice on how to handle this newfound “boy drama” in your life. You open your mouth to begin to spill the beans. “Oh, I know!” Cleo interrupted, “it is because today is my last day and you have no idea how you will survive without me!”

Not quite on the nose but nice to see that your friend really does care about you, while she makes every drama about herself. This was just another typical response from Cleo. One you have put up with for an exceptionally long time. Instead of arguing with your best friend on the beginning of her last day, you decide to just bite your lip and nod.

“It will be okay, sunshine!” A little nickname she gave you when you were both little and in Kindergarten. “We will still have Facetime and we can still meet up during the holidays.” Suddenly you were pulled into a tight embrace as an overexaggerated sigh left her lips. “Now come on mopey.” Yet another nickname that you were given because of your constant state of enthusiasm caused by your mental condition. “Let’s get to school before people forget that they will never see this face walk those halls again.”

Meanwhile in your head the little “X” at the end of Lonerboy101’s latest reply repeatedly flashed across your mind as Cleo droned on about how annoying packing up her extensive collection of shoes and makeup has been for her.

***

It did not matter what lesson you were in, if you were having “a moment” as your mother likes to call it, everything just seems to become pointless. Science was one of your favourite subjects mainly because of the unpredictable experiments that you can perform. But today it just seemed as though someone had placed a weighted scarf on top of your shoulders and told you to “deal with it.”

“Can anyone tell me their findings from their group’s chemical reaction?” All eyes went to you as everyone in the class knew that you were Mr King’s favourite pupil. Mr King was the only teacher that managed to get a response out of you in class. But today, he might as well have been talking to a brick wall.

“Y/N?” This would later be explained to you after class that it was the fifth attempt Mr King had made to pry your attention away from your notebook where you had been filling in the margins with your pen.

When you looked up, there were people gossiping and snickering about what they had just witnessed. “Can I see you after class?” Mr King had asked once he regained the focus of the class.

This was not the first time that a teacher had asked to speak with you after class. Especially Mr King. Not that he made a habit to discipline you outside of lesson, but because he was always concerned about how you were feeling after you had one of you “moments.”

“What is going on, Y/N? Do I need to call your mother?” He did not say it in a stern way that other teachers would have. But for him, it was more of a genuine question for your own personal well-being. “Some of the other teacher’s approached me today in the teacher’s lounge to discuss you. They said that you have been unresponsive all day. I heard that Cleo is leaving today, does that have anything to do with how you’re coping with today?”

You shook your head. “Cleo has nothing to do with it!” You snapped, and you never snap which startled Mr King. “I’m sorry.” You whispered when you saw how set back, he was from your reply. “I just do not know what to do anymore.”

“With what?” He perched on the edge of his desk. Holding his hand up to stop the next class from entering the classroom. “What is getting to you? I can see if I can help?” While most teachers would just shrug you off, Mr King tried to get down to the root problem to help you resolve any issue that you may be having during the day. This was because Mr King had made you aware that his daughter too suffers from major anxiety issues as well.

“It’s stupid, I should not have said anything. I will be okay, Mr King.” You gathered your books from the table and stuffed them into the oversized backpack that was now slung over your shoulder. “Can you quickly write me a note for Mrs Bateman? I do not want the teachers to have more of a reason to talk about me.”

Mr King picked up a pad and pen and began to write a note excusing you for your lateness. “It will get better, Y/N. I am here whenever you need a chat, okay?” He handed you the note and you basically bolted out of the room.

Although you felt bad for being short with Mr King, you could not quite help it. It was not as if you could simply come out and tell him that you were not upset because your best friend for 16 years was now leaving you behind. But it was all down to an “X” placed on the end of a text message from a boy you have not met but have been talking to for 3 weeks non-stop!

***

You slowly approached the lunch table that you and your friends sat at during every lunch since you had started at the school. They were all laughing and joking which did slightly lift your spirits. Cleo had turned to look over her shoulder and noticed your arrival. The smile on her face had sank and the laughing at the table had died along with it.

“Hey Y/N!” Cleo tried to sound pleased to see you but you knew something was up. Since when was Cleo being false with you? She normally reserved that type of “hey” for the girls that talk about how amazing they are.

Sinking down into the spare chair that has been yours for years at the table you tried to force a smile. “So, we were all thinking…” Instantly you hated where this was going. “That it would be really fun to all go to the dance tonight as a final farewell to Cleo!” The girls shrieked as Hannah finished her sentence. A dance was the last place you wanted to be. Today of all days.

The girls all looked at you for your response. “A dance?” The girls all squealed again in unison, practically bouncing in their seats.

“Don’t you think it would be fun.” Hannah stated rather than asked.

“Dances aren’t really my thing.” You said hesitantly. The last thing you wanted to do was to annoy any of the friends that you had left. Especially considering how they were going to be the ones you would now have to rely on once Cleo had left.

“Nothing is really your thing!” Elizabeth snickered. Cleo’s death stare shot over to Liz and her head instantly fell. So that’s why Cleo was so weird when you came over. It was because she knew that you were not exactly going to be over the moon with the new plan for Cleo’s last day celebration. Before lunch, the plan was to go bowling and then get pizza. A less daunting but still hard to stomach plan. This new plan involved dressing up and trying to socialise with people who were not exactly the nicest to you.

“Y/N, it is completely up to you. We can go to the dance and party it up like it is the last day we are going to be alive. Or we can just go and get pizza and knock over a couple of pins with an over weighted bowling ball.” When Cleo said it like that, neither sounded appealing. But it was obvious the way that she laid it out that the dance was the one event she was going to be happy attending tonight.

“Can I think about it?” The girls all sighed and Callum shook you by the shoulders. Literally shook you as if physically moving your body was somehow going to make you change your mind. “Ow!”

“Callum! Do not do that!” Cleo yelled at her boyfriend. At least she was still defending you even if she was trying to push you to do something that made you uncomfortable. It was almost as if she defended you to make you reconsider. “Just one little dance? We can go whenever you want and stay however long you want.” Her puppy dog eyes were out and her hands were clasped in front of her.

Along with your crippling fear of being around other people, your anxiety also made you hate disappointing those that you care about. “Fine.” Was all you managed to say before all the girls and Callum began to cheer. At least he did not try to shake you again otherwise you thought you may physically puke from excessive unwanted physical contact.

While all the others were discussing what they were going to wear, you reached for your phone and began to contact the only person on the planet who didn’t make you feel like you were wrong for feeling this type of way.

Hidingintheshadows – ‘Have you ever been forced to do something you don’t really want do because your friends want you to?’

You debated for a couple of seconds before adding your own “X” onto the end of your text.

Your phone vibrated in your hand. Thank God you had turned the volume off when you got to school. Cleo would not have left you alone for one second if she knew you were texting a guy.

Lonerboy101 – ‘Who is making you do something? What something? Is it illegal? X’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘1. Nothing illegal. 2. Friends and 3. Go to a stupid high school dance where I will be uncomfortable for the entire evening. X’

Lonerboy101 – ‘That wasn’t the order that I put my questions in. X’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘I thought I would start with the one that could get me in a jail cell! X’

Lonerboy101 – ‘I’ve got this feeling that you’d rock an orange jumpsuit so you would be fine. Although the lack of our communication would be quite unsettling. X’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘I think I will cope. X’

Lonerboy101 – ‘I was talking about me! I look forward to my Chime every day. X’

You could not help but blush when you read that last part of his message. You could not bring yourself to message him back stating that it was also your highlight of the day too. Lonerboy101 has become a big part of your life and that was quite hard to admit considering you did not know his name or what he even looked like. You barely even knew the boy and yet it felt as though you knew everything there was to know about him.

Lonerboy101 – ‘Sorry was that weird? Let us get back to the problem at hand… A party was not it? X’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘No and my friend is leaving and I do not want to be mean and not turn up to her “leaving do” but I do not think I will be able to cope with that many people. Especially because they all think that I am a freak. X’

Lonerboy101 – ‘When is the party? You are not a freak by the way. Might I just add that is the longest text you have ever sent. X’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘Tonight, at school. I do not want to go and be the joke of the party. X’

Lonerboy101 – ‘This is a tough one. I can be there if you want. For moral support. X’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘You can’t obviously turn up to a school that you don’t go to just to attend a stupid dance. X’

Lonerboy101 – ‘I’ll be a virtual guest. You can text me whenever you think that it is getting too much and I will use my powers of persuasion to lift those spirits and put a smile on your beautiful face. X’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘How can you say I am beautiful. You have never even seen me? X’

Lonerboy101 – ‘I see the beauty in everything. But you, you are something much more. X’

***

“You cannot wear that!” Cleo snapped when she saw the outdated and over worn outfit that you were wearing on your body. “No this will not do.” Lucky enough for her, your mother and Cleo are quite close. Closer than you are to your own mother. “Leanne! Come and tell your daughter that this is terrible and that she cannot wear this to a school dance.”

Within seconds your mother was in your room judging the clothes that she paid for that you were wearing. “No baby girl, this is your first dance. There is no way in hell I am going to let you leave this apartment building wearing that.”

Your mother’s hand was now grasped around your wrist and you were being dragged into your mother’s bedroom. “Now try this on.” In her hand she was holding a long black dress with a sequin detail at the top of the bust. She could tell that you were resistant so she pulled you in front of the wall length mirror and placed the garment up to your neck.

You could not deny that it was a very pretty dress. One that you would love to wear in a different circumstance. The whole idea of you attending a dance had still not sunk in yet. “Mum I couldn’t pull this off!” You exclaimed. Jeans and a tea shirt were more your speed.

“No Sunshine, you are most definitely wearing this now that I have seen it.” Cleo was practically foaming at the mouth the minute she saw this dress. You were sure that if your mother had not offered it to you first that she would have snagged the dress up for herself. “Right now, hair and makeup.” She slapped her hands together and both your mother and best friend stared at you with excitement in their eyes. Which only put the fear of God into yours.

***

The dance was as horrible as you thought it was going to be. There was loads of people staring at you. One of the girls from your English class even asked a friend of hers if you were a new student at the school. Shows how invisible you were before your boobs were pushed up to your neck and eyeliner was thickly applied to your eyes.

Although this was a new experience for you, to have all eyes on you for a different reason that being the weird girl from school. It was not an experience that you enjoyed at all. High school was nothing but a gossip forum where girls pick on other girls for being themselves or for being slightly different than them. For caring less about how much their bag cost and caring more about why their grade in English was lower than French.

Your friends were all on the dance floor which sadly left you on your lonesome at the back of the decked-out gym.

*Chime*

Lonerboy101 – ‘Please tell me you are having fun now? X’

You smiled. Seeing his name pop up on your screen was possibly the only thing that made you smile tonight.

Hidingintheshadows – ‘Nope. Everyone is staring at me. X’

Lonerboy101 – ‘They are only staring because they are jealous. X’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘What could they possibly be jealous of? X’

Lonerboy101 – ‘Well I bet you look absolutely beautiful tonight. X’

Hidingintheshadows – ‘You couldn’t possibly know that? X’

There had been a couple of minutes since Lonerboy101 had messaged back and that smile you had previously been wearing was starting to fade. You glanced down to look at the time on your phone, 22:14. You let out a relieved sigh, at least you stuck around for over 2 hours.

Grabbing your bag, you began to sculk about the dance floor to try and find Cleo and the other girls to deliver the “bad news.” Cleo was locked onto Callum as they shared a slow dance to one of the most upbeat songs you have ever heard. This immediately made finding Cleo a hell of a lot easier.

“I am going to head off now.” You detached Cleo from her boyfriend which left him both grumpy and a little annoyed at you. Cleo gave you a less than enthusiastic hug before quickly turning back to Callum. “Bye then.” You said when she did not say anything back to you.

It was cold outside which instantly made you regret the dress and the heels made the idea of walking all the way home even more thrilling than you could imagine. Glancing down to check the time once again, you noticed a message featuring on your lock screen. You must have not heard it with all the music when you were saying goodbye to Cleo and the girls.

Lonerboy101 – ‘Wanna bet? X’

Everyone outside the gym began to suddenly gasp. All of them were looking in a similar direction. For once all the eyes were off you and that made you feel a hell of a lot better than you had all night.

Hidingintheshadows – ‘I will take that bet. You cannot comment on something you cannot see. X’

“Then maybe you should step out of the shadows and see what I can see right now.” This voice was strangely familiar but not familiar in a way that you had heard Mr King’s voice almost every day. It was familiar because you had heard it from somewhere, but you were unsure of where. “Because what I see is 100% beautiful just like I had predicted.”

The crowd of people started to open as the voice got nearer and nearer. There were girls practically peeing their pants with excitement. Cleo had appeared with the girls and practically everyone from whom were inside the gym. Suddenly, this voice had become the talk of the whole dance and now all the attention was right back on you again.

There was now a stunning familiar face to match the familiar voice standing right in front of you. One that you would never have believed to have been stood there. It was his smile that you caught first when he looked at you in that long black dress. His eyes lingered on you for a while before you both realised that it had been quite some time that slipped away since either one of you had spoken.

“Lonerboy101?” You asked quietly. Not really wanting anyone to hear how speechless you really were.

“Guilty.” There in front of you stood the one and only Tom Holland. The freaking man who brought you Spiderman, Ian Lightfoot, and Lucas in the movie The Impossible. He was Lonerboy101, how was that even possible?

It suddenly dawned on you that everyone and that honestly was everyone was now staring at the pair of you who were staring at one another. “Maybe we should go over there?” Tom had suggested to get away from prying eyes.

Once you were both certain that there were not any lingering eyes, your protection walls started to drop ever so slightly. “You’re the person I have been talking to for 3 weeks? You’re Lonerboy101?”

“Yes. I am Lonerboy101, but if I am being quite honest, Tom will do fine.” He joked which did make you feel only a small degree better. For all this time you had been talking to Tom Holland and you had no inclination that it was happening. “I wanted to tell you who I was, but it was so amazing to have someone to talk to who didn’t see me as this guy who acts for a living and attends red carpet events, you know?”

You did not know of course. “I am not mad. But why would you tell me you have anxiety issues when you do not?” You sighed and started to look at the shine from the diamonds reflecting from your heels. “Was it a way to make fun of me?”

Quickly Tom grasped your hands without thinking. “No!” He spoke urgently but delicately as if he did not want to put his foot in his mouth and make the situation worse. Truth be told Tom was expecting this whole revelation to go a little differently. The sombre look on your face was not the result that he had wanted from showing up at your school. “I never did it to make fun of you or anyone who suffers with anxiety. Truth be told I do suffer with it. Not as bad as most people, but I have days where I wonder if my friends are my true friends because they like me or because they like what I can give them.”

“I want you to know that every message that I ever sent you, I was being the real me. None of it was an act or fake for me.” Tom’s head was not facing down, almost defeated. “From talking to you I knew that you were the most honest and kindest person that I could possibly ever get to know.”

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice was soft and shaky as if you were afraid of the response that you were going to receive.

“Anything.” He was almost pleading. His voice as shaky as your own.

“How did you know who I was and what I looked like?” Tom looked you dead in the eyes. You could see the sincerity in his eyes and how much he wanted this to go right. “You knew to come right up to me, out of all the girls in the world. You knew to come to my school and then up to me, how?”

Tom let out a little smile. “Well, you know that section on the app right at the beginning?” You nod keeping eye contact as he continued to speak. “Well when it asks you for a name, you can keep it blank and then put in a username instead. You actually put in all of your details and made them public.”

“Oh!” You stated feeling stupid for doing so. This entire time he knew exactly who you were while you had no clue that you were talking to a celebrity.

“No, it was a good thing.”

“How?” You question. Doubting that knowing who you were was ever a “good thing.”

“Because, I felt really lucky to be talking to you. I saw how beautiful you were and how smart you are as well as how kind you can be.” You were quiet. You were not used to guys calling you beautiful, and here he was saying it for what must have been the 3rd time since you met him. “If it makes you feel any better, I only looked you up yesterday. I was worried when you did not answer my message and temptation got the best of me and I peaked. Are you mad?”

“No. I am not mad.”

“Would it help if I said sorry?”

“What did you say about saying sorry?” You smiled which made the flash of panic rush from his face. The corners of his mouth started to turn up and his eyes sparkled.

“Yeah but on me it looks cute.” Both of you allow yourselves to laugh at the situation. Remembering some of your earlier messages. “Would it be too much to ask for a hug?” He looked down at your hands which were no longer scrunched into fists which proved that you were no longer as uncomfortable as you may have been from the first encounter.

You allow yourself to smile as he pulls you into his arms. “It is exactly how I imagined it.” Tom said into your hair as he held you close to him.

“What is?” You questioned

“That I would be only just taller than you when you’re wearing heels.” Both of you let out a controlled laugh at his terrible attempt at a joke. “You don’t actually want to go back in there do you?” Tom gestured towards the gym that probably did not hold any students inside due to his arrival.

“I am not going back inside there! But thanks for wearing a suit for me.” You pull away slightly to admire the suit that Tom was pulling off handsomely.

“Anything for my girl.”

57 notes · View notes

tirednotflirting · 4 years

Text

i am missing you more than i should (guess i'm not out of the woods)

i attempted to post this to ao3 and then the page crashed so tumblr gets some rights today i guess.

this is another addition to the maisie thing i’m working on. title and inspo from look at me now by maisie peters

read here on ao3 if you wanna

(it’s kinda emo i apologize)

It’s a cold November night when Luke sees Calum again.

Despite the outdoor temperature being displayed on his phone screen, Luke is warm from the alcohol in his belly and the bodies milling around the bar. He’s ordered a drink to feel natural in his current setting but it’s just soda and lime. He’s stepped into this place to wait for Ashton to come pick him up. He had read one top many horror stories about ride share apps and young drunken people and now always gripes at Luke for not calling him for a pick up on a night out. So after watching all of his friends (though that’s kind of a stretch for the people he frequents clubs with) head off into the night, Luke wandered to the place he currently sits at, feeling drawn to the little dive bar he hasn’t been to in ages and sent Ashton his location.

It’s while he’s waiting for his drink that he remembers why he was drawn to this bar. This is Calum’s place. Luke can’t even think up how many pairs of hands he would need to count the number of times they had stumbled into this place, laughing with their arms around each other while tripping their way up to the bar. It’s close to the complex Calum had been living in while they were still in school. Seeing him here now at the other end of the bar, the glitter in his eyes shining even though they’re not taking a single glance in his direction, makes Luke wonder if Calum’s stuck around this area of town.

Because of course Luke wouldn’t know. Luke hasn’t said a single word to the man in ages, hasn’t seen him in probably a year and a half at this point. (He’s tempted to pull out his dying phone to find the last text messages they exchanged to track the time but he knows Ashton probably deleted their messages during one of the many times he ended up on the other man’s couch with tears raining down his cheeks.)

We want different things. That’s what Calum had told him. Luke wanted to see the world. They were about to graduate, he wanted to see everything and he wanted to see it all with Calum. The idea of settling any part of his still mess of a young life scared the hell out of him. Luke wanted to run but he wanted to do it with Calum’s hand holding his own. Calum was so practical, his mind somehow years ahead of Luke’s. They were graduating, it was time to slow down, he was always trying to explain to the boy he’d laughed with and loved for the last four years. The speeds they were trying to live their lives at during those last few months pretty much started pulling them in opposite directions, Luke supposes. Though that didn’t change how much it hurt the day he returned to his apartment to find a box of his clothes and belongings sitting in front of the door with a little note tucked into the side.

Luke had stuck to his plan. It was only in the last couple of months that he’d returned to the city and found a job more permanent, reconnected with Ashton who had stuck it out in the area for law school. He had seen so many places, so many people, so many pairs of brown eyes that had him nearly chasing after strangers on the other side of the world. He hadn’t dared to try to love someone else but eventually his brain stopped trying to play tricks on him to make him see what he had lost because he couldn’t just slow down. Eventually he didn’t wake every morning expecting to see someone curled up beneath the sheets beside him or to walk into the kitchen to find the ever studious business major drinking from the blue mug with the chip in the handle as he checked the news on his phone

Though from what he could see down the bar, Calum hadn’t been on his own since Luke saw him last. Or at least he wasn’t right now.

Luke watches a laugh escape Calum’s lips while he reaches for his glass on the bartop (always a whiskey man, Luke was never not teasing him for his old man drink preferences). He takes a sip and then raises his brows, his lips moving to ask a question Luke can still hear rolling off his tongue if he thinks back hard enough. He watches the glass get passed along to the blonde sitting in front of him and facing away from Luke. The glittering in Calum’s eye changes some as his bottom lip gets pulled between his teeth while a smirk forms on one side of his face. Luke can see the other man’s shoulders rise slightly in response to taking the sip and he wonders if the scrunched up face he used to pull when sipping Calum’s liquor is anything like this new man’s. He figures it must be as Calum’s face softens in a still vaguely familiar way and Luke watches him lean forward to press a kiss to the blonde’s cheek while a hand lifts to cover the other.

Luke squeezes his eyes shut and forces his face away from the couple. He takes a sip of his soda before shrugging his denim jacket from his arms, the bar suddenly feeling far too warm. He’s reaching for his phone in the pocket of his jacket, ready to send Ashton an SOS to get him to hurry along, when a soft voice behind him nearly throws him to the opposite side of the bar. “Luke?”

He jumps as he spins in the stool he’s seating in, Luke’s eyes suddenly meeting the ones he’s been searching for in every corner of the world. He used to spend hours lying awake thinking about this exact moment, about what it would be like to speak again for the first time with his lost great love. (If Ashton were able to hear him thinking that he would scold Luke for being so dramatic. You’re literally 24. Calm down, Luke.) “Hi, Calum,” he returns, praying his voice isn’t as shaky as it feels. The name feels foreign on his tongue and he can’t tell if he’s thankful for that or not.

“How’re you doing, man?” Calum asks, a small smile playing at his lips. “It’s wild to see you in here, not gonna lie. Thought you were still off somewhere with your wanderlust.”

Luke tries to be as subtle as he can as he reaches for his wrist to pinch himself since he’s not entirely sure he believes this moment to be real. He coughs and shakes himself out of his daze. He’s got to be an adult about all of this, he’s a grown up now. “Yeah, I moved back a couple months ago. Was starting to really stress out Mom with the whole travel thing. I’ve moved in with Ashton, if you remember him? He helped me get this admin job at the law firm he’s interning at.”

“Of course I remember Ash!” Calum beams. Luke wonders if he’s also playing at being cool but then he remembers that Calum actually had the guts to walk over to him so maybe this is just a part of being settled down. “Happy for you, Luke. Sounds like a good set up.”

Luke ignores the nostalgia threatening to cloud up his mind at the sound of his name falling from Calum’s lips a second time. “You still working for Donny then?”

“I am! He gave me like, a month after grad to chill before I got back to my old desk with a stack two feet high of files,” Calum laughs and Luke finds himself doing the same. Calum’s internship boss had always been fond of them together. Donny had once helped Luke get flowers delivered for their third anniversary. He was a good guy. “Actually, just got promoted to Managing Financial Advisor earlier this week. Was here, uh, celebrating tonight wit-”

“Hey Cal, thought I lost you there.”

The blonde Luke had only seen the back of before steps into view, his hand dropping to Calum’s back. He’s just barely shorter than Calum, though that’s likely due to the boots the latter is wearing. His eyes are wide and a pale green, like leaves in early spring. Luke wants to hate him but he can’t. This guy looks pretty nice, unfortunately.

“Sorry, love,” Calum replies softly, his hand lifting subconsciously to push hair from the other man’s eyes. It’s an action Luke remembers fondly (and somewhat painfully, if he’s being honest with himself). “Found a familiar face. Michael, this is Luke. Luke, this is Michael.”

Michael’s eyes widen just the slightest bit. Luke isn’t surprised. He can basically guarantee that he’s sitting right at the top of Calum’s ex-boyfriends to discuss list. They spent nearly all of undergrad together. If Michael’s been around for even a little bit it makes sense that he’s heard about Luke. “Nice to meet you, mate.”

“Yeah, you too.” Luke accepts the hand being offered to shake. The whole situation feels way too formal but also dazed. Though Luke is still drunk and there’s way too many memories dancing through his mind of nights out with Calum and nights in with Calum and Calum Calum Calum.

“Well,” Calum starts, his hand moving to rest lower against Michael’s back. “Our Uber is here but I’m glad I saw you Luke. Take care of yourself.”

Luke nods and wishes them both the same in a small voice while they wander away from him. He can’t hear it but based on the worried look he can see on Michael’s face as they head for the door and the way he wraps his arm more firmly around Calum’s waist, Luke knows he wasn’t the only one faking a brave face.

(He allows himself a moment to give into memory then as he thinks back on one of the last times he was headed out of this bar with Calum. It was early February, just a week and change past Calum’s birthday. The air is cold enough to see their breaths as they giggle and bumble about their new courses. Calum keeps lifting Luke’s hands between his own to blow warm air onto them to keep them warm as they head in the direction of his apartment.

When they finally make it up to the third floor and through Calum’s door, they both kick off their boots. Luke’s gone for his easier to remove ones so he has a moment to lean against the door while laughing as Calum pulls at the laces of his Docs. Once removed, Calum steps over to Luke, his arms looping around his waist while Luke’s drop to hang over his shoulders. Their laughter dies out as they sway back and forth slightly in the entryway.

“God, I love you,” Luke sighs as he drops his forehead to Calum’s. “Never want to stop loving you.”

“Please don’t.” Calum laughs gently before turning his head so their lips press together.

Whether it's seconds or hours that they stand there kissing while holding each other in the dull entryway light, Luke doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. All that matters is that Calum never lets go.)

Luke’s phone buzzes on the bartop, a text from Ashton appearing to alert him that he’s waiting in the lot out front. Luke tips back the last of his soda and shouts a thank you to the bartender. He pulls on his jacket and heads in the direction of the door.

He turns for a moment before reaching to push through back out into the cold. He glances around the open room, quick moments of memories playing out in front of him from the years before. He sighs and pulls himself out of it again.

Maybe it’s time to find a new spot to land.

#cake #cake fic #also some malum #maisie series #i think i literally apologized when speaking w meg yesterday bc i was like 'i don't wanna be mean to cake but also'#maisie posting on insta right as i type these tags omfg

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nautiscarader · 4 years

Text

Calm yo’ tits - a present fic for ZekkKiray

Rating: E, ladynoir/Adrinette (post-reveal), 9143 words (by notepad++ count, 8886 according to Ao3, so one of you is LYING)

Read on Ao3

contains breastfeeding, lactation and mooificated large breasts.

Now, if you look at the tags (and the word count), and you know me, you might be understandably confused and worried that I might have been possessed, hacked by a Russian bot, or simply gone mad. The last part is very likely, but it is not the reason of this fic's existence.

The fic you are about to read is a present for my buddy, ZekkKiray, a vastly superior fic writer, who on one occasion quoted my works as inspiration for his, which solves once and for all the age-old philosophical dilemma, proving that something can indeed come from nothing.

I knew, to some extent, what his favourite kinks are, which sadly, were not exactly compatible with mine. So I needed to find a fandom we both like, and where I wouldn't have to worry too much about silly things like logic or common sense.

Enter "Miraculous Ladybug".

To put it simply, this fic is a bit of crack, I tried working some elements from my personal headcanons, and it doesn't break, assuming you don't push it too hard. More importantly, though, it's a birthday crack. Happy birthday, pal!

Also, this takes place after S3 finale.

================================

Sitting tensely in her chaise-longue, Marinette eyed her tutor and a temporary enemy with a keen eye. She has taken many exams in her young adult life, but this one might have been the most important so far. She concentrated on the small, levitating creature that flew that past her head, and when Tikki revealed a card, Marinette instantly replied.

- Zaggu, gnu kwami, the hero is Ram-page, and has ability to shapeshift terrain. Strong, but not too agile. Best pair with Pegasus for optimum efficiency. - she spoke quickly. - Yes! That's the last one! - Tikki cheered, flying to nuzzle Marinette's cheek.

For the past few days, Marinette has been extensively trying to fill in the shoes of Master Fu, as the new Miraculous guardian, and she has passed her self-imposed exam with flying colours, guessing each and every Kwami Tikki has tested her with.

- Well, if there are any challenging akumas, you will surely be able to know how to dispose of them! - Tikki cheered. - I sure hope so. - Marinette smiled - But now I have to study for actual exams, Tikki.

Marinette walked to her desk, took her college textbooks and opened them, her other hand already deep in the bowl of fruit snacks she prepared beforehand, knowing of the revision session ahead of her.

- Don't you want to study with Adrien? - Tikki flew by her head - Last time you said he's helped you a lot. - I wish. - Marinette sighed dreamily at the sound of her boyfriend's name - And he did, but...

Her cheeks suddenly became slightly deeper shade of burgundy, and she shied away from her Kwami. The mere thought of her boyfriend made her instantly forget about her duties, both as a college student and as a protector of Paris. She let herself indulge in a fantasy of what could happen if the two were put together in her room, and were given a choice between studying for a very boring exam, or doing anything else... However, Marinette had to exert some self-control, and with her friend acting like a second moral compass flying next to her, she had to abandon of her daydream.

- You know, this is quite an important exam, I don't want to be easily distracted and-Adrien!

She let out a gasp when her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it to answer at once. Tikki smiled, watching as her friend melts in her chair at the sound of Adrien's voice. Something told her she's not gonna do any revisions today.

===================

In his dark lair, Hakwmoth was listening. With closed eyes, he concentrated his powers to filter out hundreds of voices, trying to find the loudest and angriest, speaking with pure rage and despair.

He heard squabbling teenagers and forgot about them at once.

He heard depressed, neglected workers and didn't give them a second chance.

He heard a man crying, pitiful and heartbroken, because of his beloved pigeo-NO, NOT HIM AGAIN, THIRD SODDING TIME THIS MONTH.

Gabriel sighed and closed the aperture overlooking Paris. Finding a good source for akuma was sometimes surprisingly difficult. So many voices, so many possible candidates. And yet, again and again, he has failed.

Gabriel stepped down into the staircase that brought him down to his office, and was not surprised to find Nathalie waiting for him.

- Anything new for me, Nathalie? - he corrected his glasses - Just one call from the office of Coco Marocco. They asked for a call-back... - Nathalie paused and dropped her formal attitude - Gabriel, is everything alright?

She gently put her hand on his shoulder, and his body twitched in an instinct to brush it off. But he restrained himself, paused and took another deep breath.

- It's sometimes so... difficult. To find a good one... - I know.

He looked back at her and gave her a rare smile, saying much more than he could have at the time.

- I'll make the call, thank you.

Nathalie left his office, never taking her eye from him as she closed the door. Gabriel sat in his chair, leaned back and dialled the number.

"Hi there! You have reached the office of Coco Marocco, the finest brand of clothing this side of the equator. For English, press One. Für Deutsch drücken Sie bitte..."

Gabriel sighed and let the voice machine continue its job.

"... for business inquiries, press 7".

Gabriel quickly pressed the number, and was welcomed with the same, lifeless, mechanical voice.

"To access your account, please input the number..."

Without thinking, Gabriel typed the eleven-digit number on the tone dial, and waited for the next step.

"We apologise. In order to access your account, you need to speak the numbers", the voicemail said.

A small vein twitched on Gabriel's forehead. He spoke each digit, loud and clear, hoping beyond hope it registered properly.

"We apologise, please say the number again."

It took him two more tries to reach the next step, and he finally heard the familiar waiting music. The second it stopped, he started speaking, but he was met with even more disappointing reality.

"Hi there! Thank you for your patience. Your call is incredibly important to us. Your number in the waiting queue is... FOURTEEN".

The mobile phone crashed and broke into dozens of pieces when Gabriel tossed it across the room, careful not to destroy the painting of his wife that hid the entrance to his observatory.

- Why does it have to be so difficult? - he grumbled - Bunch of incompetent buffoons, making the easiest of things so much more difficult-

And then, a sudden burst of inspiration, privileged only to visionaries of his calibre, has dawned on him. He quickly got up and dashed to the elevator, not noticing that the crash alerted Nathalie to peek into his room, as he was too eager to bring his plan into motion as soon as possible.

When he stepped into his lair, he was Hawkmoth again, and he knew exactly what to listen for.

=====================

The glorious weather outside taunted Nino to end his revisions early and go to the nearest park to bathe in the warm sunshine, but alas, he had to spend his day in the near-empty university library. Unable to concentrate, he took his phone and launched the app to check if the last paper has been graded, but was left with a disappointing, never-ending loading screen. He looked at the only other person in the room, sitting by the computer in the corner, and decided to break the ear-splitting silence.

- Hey dude, are the uni servers down, or something? - And when were they not? - the chubby student replied - The app constantly crashes, we can't even check anything, so I'm just loafing around.

Nino gave him - or rather his large neck - a curious look and decided to end the conversation swiftly.

- Well, at least tumblog works... - If only - his interlocutor replied, much to Nino's chagrin, without even taking his headset off - Ugh, why did they change the colour of the background again? - You okay, dude? - he looked at his freckled face, and the man gave him a contemptuous look. - Yeah. But you seem to be okay with using this sub-par version - he glanced at his phone.

Nino raised his eyebrow and glanced at his phone.

- What's wrong with that?

The man groaned.

- Ugh, where do I start? The app also never works, they haven't implemented half the features of the desktop version, they still show sponsored messages, I mean, not for me, I hacked them myself away, and the options, can you believe they dared to change the font, it's so unreadable now...

He took a sip of a drink he definitely shouldn't have been allowed to bring into the library.

- But the site is so full of idiots now, it's not even worth going there anymore. Can you believe there are people defending the new Flunkies game? They've added cut content DLCs now! All of them sheep, they will buy whatever you throw at them, and...

The guy continued to complain into what was now a Nino-shaped void, as he left quietly a minute earlier, slightly afraid that arrogance might be catching.

And he wouldn't be exactly wrong...

If Nino stayed, he would have noticed that the same window that finally tempted him to walk outside with its glorious view, became also a gateway for a dark-purple moth that landed on the student's headset, turning it into equally sinister shade.

Suddenly, the student's complaints, spoken into nothingness, fell on listening ears, and a voice spoke in his head.

- Anton, I am Hakwmoth. I have heard your eloquent delivery, and I must say, you are quite right. - I know I am - Anton replied, without missing a beat. - There are so many little things wrong with this world, and only you know how to fix them... - Yes, I wrote it all on my blog, but now they changed the tagging system, and they don't even filter by the- - The point is - Hakwmoth interrupted him - As all geniuses in history, you are underestimated. Like the Cassandra of the Greek myths, people do not believe you, despite you speaking the truth. But I can change that.

For the first time in rather long time, Anton listened, instead of talking.

- I can give you a platform to speak your wisdom, better than any social media would ever offer. I can give you the voice, and I can give you the chance to make others hear you... And to sway their views at once... - You-you can do that? - Anton asked excitedly, though remaining in his slumped pose. - Oh, yes. - Hakwmoth replied with an oily, greedy voice - All I need in return is for you to bring me Ladybug's and Chat Noir's Miraculi. They are wrong anyway, so they don't deserve them... Embrace my akuma, and rise-

Gabriel paused. He expected to feel something by now, but instead, he heard a quiet tapping.

- Are-are you typing? - Well, duh, someone is wrong on the Internet. - I was going to give you powers to do all of that a hundred times faster... - Gabriel spoke, unable to believe what he heard. - Okay, I'm done. - Anton spoke - What were you saying?

Stopping the urge to find a new herald of his will, Hakwmoth stomped in place and let the power flow through him and into his new apprentice, transforming his somewhat shaggy clothes into regal, red-and-golden attire. The chair he was sitting in merged into his body, becoming a golden, ornamented throne. And finally, the device around his head became a golden, conical-shaped object, perfectly suited for his new puppet, already fitting well in his hand.

- As I was saying... Rise, Echo Chamberlain, and correct the world, for only you know how. - I will! - the new villain spoke into his megaphone and flew out the library in his levitating chair, smashing the window to pieces.

========================

- Adrien!

Marinette jumped the last few stairs of her house and nearly tripped, but fortunately for her, she landed exactly where she wanted - in the arms of her boyfriend, meeting his lips a minute or so earlier than she planned. She smelled his trademark cologne, singed with his name, and she positively melted against his chest, blissfully forgetting about everything around her, until her mother's grunt brought her back to reality.

She jumped to her feet, fixed her hair and waved her parents goodbye, as the two walked outside for a stroll on the sunny day, with just a chance of studying in the park, in between kissing.

- How was the journey? - Marinette asked, eager to learn all about his latest business trip. - Well, nothing too out of the ordinary. I mean, for me. - he quickly added, afraid he sounded too immodest - I wish I could have brought you with me. - No biggie. I know how strict your father can be... - she leaned against his shoulder. - Hey, look, we should get some ice-cream!

Marinette eagerly pulled Adrien towards the famous André's ice-cream stand that now was parked underneath an old arch, and, predictably, has already amassed a small crowd, hungry for some cold refreshment. But as the two approached them, they heard an angry voice, dissonating with the rest.

- What do you mean you don't have chocolate chips? What kind of ice cream vendor are you? - a young woman was arguing with the poor ice-cream maker, who reacted to her anger with his usual jovial, kind behaviour. - Ah, but mademoiselle, I have other toppings, perfect for you! Brandied cherries! Candied walnuts! Peanut brittle! Or even... - he paused, before saying the next word with less enthusiasm in his voice - Sprinkles... - But I want my chocolate chips! - Excuse me. - Marinette gently addressed the angry woman - Don't you think you act a bit selfish? I'm certain André has been working so hard to bring us these phenomenal treats, it's not his fault he ran out of some of the ingredients... - Yeah - Adrien added quickly - And I think you will find some of these are as good as the one you crave, I can attest to that. - Plus, there are a lot of people waiting...

A shared murmur spread behind her, with people nodding, agreeing to Marinette and Adrien's polite reasoning. The woman sighed, and was about to accept the lesser version of her favourite dessert, but the next words she spoke left her mouth with a volume of hundreds of people.

- I WANT CHOCLOATE CHIPS!

Adrien and Marinette instinctively put their hands over the ears, and as they watched in horror, they might have just saved their sanity. Thre eyes of the people surrounding them glew with red tint, and the same people that a moment ago scoffed at the picky woman, now shouted with her.

- WE WANT CHOCLOATE CHIPS!

The two shared a concerned look, and they frantically looked around, knowing full-well it was a work of an akuma. Adrien spotted him first, a bizarre, red-and-gold man flying in his throne above their heads. They gave each other a nod and ran as far away from the crowd.

- André, run, it's an akuma! - Marinette cried, but it was too late.

The kind man now was roaring with them, demanding his own ice cream booth to give him chocolate chips, smashing it with his bare hands. Adrien and Marinette hid in an alleyway, and as soon as they could catch breath, their Kwami escaped their pockets, ready to transform them.

Two bright flashes of light later, Ladybug and Chat Noir escaped the same alleyway, following new source of cries and shouts. Ladybug shoot her yo-yo to climb onto the nearest rooftop, while Chat accompanied her onto his magical baton that propelled him into the air, so they could level with Hawkmoth's new puppet.

- You there! - Marinette shouted, gaining his attention - What are you doing to these innocent people? - And whatever it is, we are here to stop you!

The akumatised man laughed and rolled in the air in his throne.

- I am the Echo Chamberlain, and I have done nothing to them! I merely gave them the same voice I have. How dare these ice cream makers don't have the perfect ice-cream I want!

He grabbed his megaphone and spoke into it, emitting once more a deafening cry that reverberated amongst the buildings.

- People of Paris! Throw away your chains! Go to the barricades! And demand the ice-cream you want! Ha-ha-ha!

At once, the people beneath them, scared and cowering, stood up and rushed to the shops, big and small alike, chanting the same familiar phrase for their now-beloved condiment.

- You fool! - a sudden voice rang in Anton's head - I gave you the voice so you can get me Ladybug's and Chat Noir's Miraculi! - Oh, right. - he took his megaphone again - But before that, get me Ladybug and Chat Noir! They took all the chocolate chips!

Echo Chamberlain flew onto his throne, leaving Ladybug and Chat Noir with the horde of people, that now began surrounding them with his single command. The two thought that they were safe on the rooftop of the building, but the angry people began climbing each other, forming human ladders, and in matter of seconds, the two had to escape in the same way they got there to begin with.

- He's using some sort of mind control! - Ladybug spoke, when they landed on slightly taller building, though they've already heard the clatter of broken glass beneath them. - The akuma must be in his megaphone. - Chat added - Also, I never thought people like chocolate chips so much. - I don't think they do. I think he likes it, and so he makes other people like the same thing.

Ladybug took a cautious look down, spotting some people rushing away from the angry mob.

- And I think he needs to target like-minded people. Or at least those that share some form of opinion with him... - she pondered. - Great observation, but may I add one? Duck!

Chat Noir pressed Ladybug's head down as a carton full of ice-cream cones flew right through the space once occupied by her head. The two rushed to their feet again, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, escaping the swarm of zombiefied people.

- Maybe there will be fewer of them here... - Chat spoke, but he was immediately proven wrong by a sudden voice behind him. - Oh, do you think ice-cream toppings is the only thing that makes people angry?

Echo Chamberlain arose from behind the building, already aiming his megaphone at the ventilation shaft.

- How about... Mobile chargers! Don't you hate how they always get lost and get tangled?

The powerful sound wave reverberated throughout the building, and the small rooftop door quaked when a small mob of residents rushed to the top, with said chargers in their hands, ready to strangle the two. Ladybug tried sniping a few of them with precise shots of her yo-yo, but the crowd was too dense.

- My lady!

Chat Noir grabbed her and propelled themselves off the building, landing in the vicinity of the same park they were meant to not-study in. But as they landed, they were already surrounded by more hypnotised civilians, this time complaining en-masse about mosquitoes.

- There's too many of them! - Ladybug shouted, jumping onto the nearby lamp post and then onto the tree. - I mean, they aren't exactly wrong, mosquitoes are horrible... - Chat! - Ladybug scolded him - That's the problem, he is making these people aware of all those small, insignificant problems of their lives. - But everyone has those!

Chat Noir's statement suddenly sounded ominously, as the sea of multicoloured people of every race, size and age surrounded them. Each person beneath them complained about something, creating a powerful choir of cacophony.

- We need... we need something to calm them down all at once...

Marinette looked around, and suddenly, as she spotted André's destroyed ice-cream stand, she saw the bell he would rang to alert Parisians of his presence, and a smile appeared on her face.

- I know what to do! - she cheered - Follow me!

The two escaped the tree just as if it was bout to be uprooted, and the two traversed the Paris to land on an even more familiar balcony.

- Don't peek, I'm gonna change my clothes. - she gave him a quick peck as she opened the hatch door to her apartment. - I'd never think of doing that. - Chat grinned, prepared his baton and jumped to the ground to defend the Dupain-Cheng bakery from the horde of people.

Once she was inside, Marinette quickly opened her supplies cabinet. Under the multitude of sewing accessories lied the hidden, oval-shaped red-and-black object that once looked like an ancient music box. The new guardian took it and gently tapped the black spots on the Miraculous Box, and under her touch, the small drawers began opening, one by one, like petals of a flower, revealing the multitude of Miraculi inside. Each of the intricate jewels glowed with a magical light of its own, as if to invite Marinette to try them, but she already knew which one to pick.

She took a small, circular Miraculous and spoke its Kwami name, illuminating her room with calming, white light, as the small, furry creature appeared in front of her.

- There's no time to explain, I need your help. Tikki, unify!

=====================

Meanwhile, Chat was getting more and more surrounded, forcing him to jump higher and higher, hoping the crowd would follow him and not Ladybug, trying his might to defend himself with his baton from the hypnotised masses, chanting their many inconsequential complaints that made them so strong.

- The prequels suck! - The sequels suck too! - Everything sucks!

As the mob was about to grab Chat, suddenly, he felt a familiar grip around his torso and his stomach did a somersault when he was dragged upwards, away from the crowd, as Ladybug reeled him on her yo-yo as if he was a fish.

- Thanks Ladybug, your timing is impecca-

Words got stuck in Adrien's mouth as he turned his head to meet his rescuer. At first, he wasn't sure it was Ladybug, but he recognised her yo-yo and her charming smile, though they were the only familiar element of her looks that remained. Only half of her original red could be found on her new costume, and the tidy, trademark polka-dots merged into black blots against white-brown rest of her costume. But it was the accessories she was wearing that truly befuddled Chat and forced him to pursue his curiosity, even if he was to be proverbially killed for it.

- My lady...! - Adrien stopped mid-way, taking another long look at Marinette - You... Your choice of fighting style is always impawssible to predict, but... Really, a cow? - What?

Marinette looked at herself, turning in place, as if to check if she's made a mistake choosing a Kwami to merge with, but once she ascertained herself, she shot him with a stern look.

- I'm not a cow. - she spoke quickly - The Kwami, whose powers I'm borrowing, is a yak! From Tibet! - Er, my lady - Chat raised his hands in defence, trying not to stare too long at the horns that adorned her head now - With all the respect, half of your costume is white with black spots, you have a ring in your nose, and you wear a cowbell around your neck... - IT'S NOT A COWBELL! - Marinette stomped in place - It's a Tibetan singing bowl, used for meditation. The Kwami told me so. - And what was its name?

With some hesitation, Marinette looked at Chat, whose lips curled into a sly smile, somehow foreseeing the answer and using every ounce of his intelligence to prepare a comeback.

- Lhamuu... - she whispered. - Lha...MOO - Chat articulated, his smug grin becoming unbearable to look at. - Oh, shut up! - Marinette yelled - We have an Akuma to defeat. - You're right, we should get mooving.

The superheroes nodded and jumped once more into the crowd of people under the super-villain's control, a plan already forming in their heads.

===========

- What's this?

In his observatory, Hawkmoth looked through his puppet's eyes at a sight he most certainly didn't expect.

- Ladybug... is a cow. - he muttered, unable to believe his borrowed sight. - Actually, it's a yak, you can tell by the horns, they are quite common in Asia and- - Never mind that! - Hawkmoth interrupted him - Ladybug has acquired a new power! That means she's wearing two Miraculi! Get them at once! - Is it "Miraculi" or "Miraculouses"? Or does this word even have plural form? - Anton pondered - I think there was a thread on Ladyblog about it, and- - THEY CAN BE CALLED "CROISSANTS" FOR WHAT I CARE, JUST GRAB THE JEWELS! - On it.

==========

Anton's throne flew closer to the two superheroes, who kept fighting the overwhelming crowd of people. Though banking on disappointment from recent block-busters wasn't unreasonable, he decided to play on even more delicate strings. He took his megaphone and spoke one word that electrified the masses and angered them all.

- Don't you just hate... CAPTCHA?... yes, it's because of Ladybug and Chat Noir you have to solve those stupid riddles, finding fire hydrants and whatnot! Destroy them!

At once, the mass of people acting, ironically, like radio-controlled robots, roared with pure hatred and began swarming towards them climbing onto balconies, just so they can get to them. Chat took a step backwards, knowing the crowd there was equally dense. But just as he was about to secure Ladybug, she did something utterly unpredictable.

With grace and skill only she possessed, SHE jumped off the rooftop, right into the horde of people, ready to tear her apart.

- My lady!

From the rooftop, Chat watched as Ladybug landed on the plaza, and let the crowd of people encircle and approach her from every side. And though he was afraid, he also had faith in her, strengthen only by her charming smile and a wink she sent him, while the shouting mob surrounded her.

- It's time to use... The Bell of Clarity!

Marinette touched the bowl affixed to her neck, enveloping herself in a delicate, yellow light, grabbed what looked like a ring in her nose and swiftly pulled it, revealing it to have two small balls on each side, and twirled around, ending with a stylish, victorious pose. With her new weapon in hands, she reached it, and gently stroke the bowl with the metallic ring, letting its vibration travel towards their target.

A powerful sound wave surrounded her, spreading in all directions, engulfing more and more of space, finally reaching the ears of the hypnotised people. When the note rang in their minds, they stopped, appearing confused and disoriented, as they suddenly lost the connection to their master's words.

- No, no, get them, you idiots! - Echo Chamberlain shouted through his megaphone.

Marinette stroke the bowl a second time, producing a more melodious tune. The crowd of like-minded zombies became even less coordinated, much to the supervillain's anger. And when she gently began moving the ornamented metal ring across the bowl's edge, instead of producing a single note, it began singing, its soothing melody finally dispelling the charm put on the people.

- No! You have to listen to me! I am right! - Anton took his megaphone and began speaking into it again - The games now suck! The-there are micro-transactions everywhere! The-the toilet paper! It's never turned the right way around! There is product placement in movies!

But no matter how many annoying details about life - or rather lack of it - he spoke of, the crowd remained calm and peaceful, unified with the sound of Ladybug's bell, that spread across the city each time she hit it.

And just when he was about to think of some new annoyance, something hit him from behind him, and when he turned around, he saw Chat Noir, wrestling with him, his baton already locking his arms from reaching his tool of control.

- It's time to dethrone your highness! Now, Ladybug!

At once, Ladybug shoot the yo-yo, grabbing the megaphone, while Chat and Echo Chamberlain wobbled in the air, each trying to overpower the other. But as soon as Ladybug got her hands onto his prized tool of control, it was over. She broke it in half, releasing the purple akuma, she then gracefully caught with the same yo-yo.

- By bye, little butterfly... - she spoke to the purified Akuma, watching it, as it flew away. - Miraculous Ladybug!

A storm of light, radiating from her engulfed the city, repairing the damages caused by the entitled mobs. As for the Echo Chamberlain, he found himself in his regular, not-levitating chair, and only thanks to Chat Noir's strength he didn't hit the ground.

- I believe it was yours. - Ladybug handed him the headset. - Y-yeah... - Anton stuttered. - Uh, Ladybug, I... - That's okay, Anton. - she spoke calmly - We all get upset sometimes, and we all think we have all the answers. - But maybe it's better to walk outside every once in a while, and, say, have some ice cream? Regardless of toppings? - Chat Noir added, giving him equally warm smile. - Y-yeah...

The two watched as the man waddled away, pondering what his behaviour has done. Ladybug and Chat Noir looked at each other and bumped their fist with a cheerful "Pound it!".

- So, the Bell of Clarity, eh? - Chat Noir leaned against the wall, watching as his partner affixes her new accessory once more to her collar. - Jealous of my new toy, kitty? - Ladybug shot him with a mischievous grin - It has quite powerful properties, I should tell you about that some time, since I've been studying all the Kwamis and... - Nah, I was just pondering the name...

Marinette eyed him suspiciously, noticing the familiar smirk appearing on his face, about to turn into a full, unashamed grin, but when she did that, it was too late, as words already left his mouth.

- It's "Bell of Clarity"...or Clara-bell, if you will.

The Tibetan singing bowl made one last, long, pronounced note as Marinette struck Chat's head with it, putting an end to his jokes and another successful mission.

===========================

Another tune, this one of pure sorrow filled the air, as Hawkmoth roared in anger, his voice echoing in his evil lair atop the Agreste mansion.

- Preposterous! I have been defeated by a superheroine dressed like a cow! - I think she was a yak, Gabriel. - Nathalie added - SHE HAD A RING IN HER NOSE! - he yelled, slamming his fists against the floor, as he collapsed onto his knees - I HAVE A HEADACHE!

==================

Far away from Hawkmoth's prying eyes, as well as many security cameras they've learned to evade, two superheroes were celebrating another victory in a way that became almost a tradition for them. There was a time when Marinette would be utterly shocked at the mere thought of kissing in public, let alone exposing herself there, but the years of serving as a protector of Paris has changed her mind. At some point, she started treating entirety of Paris as her home, with every dark alleyway and rows of chimney that hid them from the rest of the world, and with that notion came the desire to express herself and her love in the open air. And it certainly helped that her boyfriend was a horny tomcat.

Though she would have preferred if Chat pushed her against her soft bed, she didn't mind the cold, sturdy surface of a building they were kissing against. With his relentless, but delicate caresses, there was no place on Earth where they wouldn't be feeling comfortable, and something told her she would be soon melting in his arms or underneath his body.

And Chat was especially meticulous today, as he wanted to make sure that he'd cover every millimetre of her new costume and find out if her new alter-ego changed something with her preferences regarding making love.

- Chat... - Marinette moaned and curled her toes, tightening her legs' grip around his body. - I've had you as a Ladybug...

Chat pressed her against the wall, his hand already on her crotch, and his fingers dug through the latex costume that parted underneath his gentle, yet steady caresses.

- ...then as a mouse...

She let out a short squeak, almost mimicking her timid, Multimouse persona, as he continued undressing her using his claws and teeth.

- Then as a Rena Rouge... do you remember that? - How-How could I forget? - Marinette gasped, her hands sliding up and down his slim, but muscular body - Especially since Alya was filming us...

Chat let out a deep purr of approval, letting his lips and tongue take action, as he leaned against the skin on her neck. And while he was busy peppering her skin with kisses, Marinette decided to continue diving into their memories, perhaps just so she won't have to moan in anticipation of her lover's next, carefully planned move.

- And-And do you remember when Mister Bug used Lady Noire's face? I've never thought he would be so rough... - Mhm, most certainly... - Chat purred, nibbling on her ear, both actions making Marinette's skin shiver - Turned out white goes very well with your the black mask... And, well, rest of the costume too... - Naughty kitten... - And now, I'm gonna be with you as a... - Chat paused, looking up at his lover - ...a yak. - It's fine, you can say I'm a cow. - Marinette rolled her eyes, leaning in for a kiss. - And how should I call you? - Figured you would kiss first and ask names second...

She spoke those words in somewhat croaky voice, after Chat's kiss successfully left her breathless. She tightened her grip on him and looked him in the eye, seeing the familiar, fiery spark of lust that could lead them on a predictable route.

- Yin Yak - she answered - That's the name of that-that superheroine... - Marinette paused, trying to silence herself from another surge of pleasure building up in her loins. - So, would you be Lady-yak? - Chat kissed her breasts through her costume, yearning to feel her costume splitting apart - Or Yin-bug? I have to say, I am purrplexed and confused...

Marinette cupped his face and brought his face millimetres away from hers, just so her next words could firmly root themselves into his mind.

- I will tell you how I want to be called. - she paused and without losing a bit answered - Yours.

With her words acting like a spell, Chat Noir smiled and in a single move tossed her into the air, and caught her with his arms again, letting her legs spread. And as he did so, a rip in her costume appeared, under Chat's most delicate of touches, as a final proof of Marinette's consent and her yearning for her lover. Marinette yelped when his fingers brushed the now-exposed skin underneath her partially-torn costume. In response, she yanked his bell and slid it down, finally laying her eyes on his naked, alluring body.

- It's so much easier for you... - Are you complaining about an incredibly minor inconvenience? - Chat paused - Be careful, or you're gonna get akumatised too...

They giggled and closed their eyes, preparing for a kiss, but as their lips were about to meet, Chat found that something began pushing them away. And when the two looked down, they couldn't help but gasp at the sudden development happening right in front of them.

- What the-?!

Both Adrien and Marinette stared at her chest, or more precisely, her breasts that sprung from beneath her costume, ripping it completely and showing properly how enlarged they've become. And neither of them could tell which one was more surprised of the sight that greeted them. Her usually perky, medium-sized breasts now felt like two balloons that became inflated the moment Chat parted the way of her costume, though despite their size they seemed to defy laws of physics, never truly succumbing to gravity. As if in disbelief, Chat gently cupped them, and only under his touch, Marinette could feel how much they have grown, and that they were in fact still parts of her caresses-starved body.

- They-they are huge! - Marinette gasped, stating the obvious. - Indeed they are... - Adrien licked his lips - I have to admit, I am enjoying your new superhero form more and more...

Marinette gasped when she felt Chat's breath around her nipple, even more sensitive than usual, as his lips closed around the nub, a lot bigger and more pronounced now. And while his tongue lapped around her areola, his left hand caressed her other breast, exploring the new, vast territory he was going to conquer.

As Marinette whimpered under Chat's caresses, he moved from left side of her enlarged bosom to the other, finally taking a dive between them, licking the alluring valley between the voluptuous,breasts on both sides of his face. He looked up, meeting Ladybug's widened eyes, seeing the mixture of pleasure and lingering shock in them. He gave her one final kiss, and asked sheepishly.

- My lady, I'm not doing anything wrong, am I? - Can you hear me complain? - Marinette smirked - I have no idea what happened, but keep your mouth busy, kitty.

She gently pushed his head back between her huge bosom that almost engulfed Chat's head. Suddenly, she felt his kisses everywhere across her sensitive skin, causing her to moan without any care. They were still hidden, at least partially, since she fully expected her breasts might now expand like a portable raft and take the entire space of the rooftop.

Of course, she knew why this happened. Though Chat was joking, her Kwami certainly had a few bovine traits, and her arousal must have accentuated those even more, just like Chat's claws could tear through her otherwise indestructible suit as if it was papier-mâché when his animalistic needs got over him.

As her kisses became more and more ravenous, her legs slowly gave up, and that gave Chat a chance to sneak his arms underneath her back and raise her leg up, just so his access to her dripping sex could be easier. With her left leg on his shoulder, his fingers continued the delicate dance against her pussy, while his tongue lapped at the skin around her nipples.

- Cha-Chat!

Marinette threw her head back, hoping her lover would bring her to her climax soon, and when Chat closed his lips around her nipple once more, just to contain his scream, she felt something new. An exhilarating, electrifying surge rushed through her, and at the same moment as Chat's eyes opened wide, while his fingering slowed down, though with his new discovery, she didn't exactly blame him.

Once he understood what was happening, Chat smiled and doubled his efforts, suckling on her teat, just so he could taste the delicious, sweet milk she began producing.

- My lady, you are... full of surprises... - he spoke, once he took a healthy gulp of her essence, watching as it dripped onto her large breasts.

To her bewilderment, when Chat brought his lips back to her nipple and continued suckling her milk, she felt the pleasure rising again, and with the newly found source of enjoyment, Marinette realised she couldn't think straight, especially when Chat resumed the moves of his hand again, spreading her folds.

But this time, as his muscular body came in contact with hers, it became obvious he was eager for more than simple finger play. He moved his hips in tune of her moans, sliding his exposed cock along her folds, eager to her her begging. And sure enough, once his name left her lips, he dived between her wet, soaking folds, just like his head dived into the valley of her breasts, equally leaking from anticipation.

Marinette let out another prolonged moan. Chat often made love to her this way, pressing her against walls, often just meters away from busy streets, but never before has her body changed. And now, to each of Chat's thrusts, her enlarged breasts reacted accordingly, bouncing up and down around Chat's face, though every once in a while her lover's thirst for her milk caused one of her mounds - or rather mountains - to remain in place, while he feasted on the liquid ambrosia she kept producing.

Adrien thought that he might have harder time keeping his lover up, and bouncing her with the extra baggage, but it turned out that the opposite was true. She felt lighter, giving him chance to exert a bit more pressure and dominance over his lover, much to her enjoyment. Ladybug dug her fingernails into Chat's shoulders, pushing him against the cushions of her bosom, letting his entire face stimulate her much larger and more sensitive area.

With each kiss Chat placed around her nipples came another deep thrust, reaching further and further into her yearning sex that coated his cock with her juices, only helping his cause of sliding as far as possible. And with that storm of sensation, it came as no surprise to Marinette that her mind slowly started going blank, and she began chanting Chat's name like a mantra, begging him to help her reach the peak he promised her, hearing only his grunts in return.

Their shared orgasm made their joined bodies shudder; at the same time, walls of Marinette's pussy contracted, desperate to contain Chat inside her, coating his crotch with more and more of her juices; then the torrential jets of his warm seed shot up her sex, right against her womb, filling her to the brim. And then, just when she thought she was finished, she felt a new form of warmth on her chest, when milk began spurted from her breasts, though the stream quickly found its way to Chat's mouth.

With each of Chat's final, weakening thrusts, the effects began anew, forcing her lover to switch suckling on her nipples, thirsty for her nectar, as if to use it to replenish his essence he kept flooding her with. But as their juices were leaking out, so was their strength, and even Chat's muscles had to give up at some point.

The two collapsed on the rooftop, still hidden by the shadows of the construction scaffolding, though at this point, Marinette truly didn't care if their love making has been heard, or observed by anyone; with her enormous breasts people might think it's some sort of stunt anyway. Her lips found Chat's and she tasted a new flavour, a sweet one that sent shivers down her spine, when she realised what it was, and she understood at once why Chat was so desperate to milk her.

The same flurry of kisses that drove her to her peak didn't stop, as Chat made sure to pepper her breasts with as many of those as possible, at the same time giving her ample time to recover from her equally explosive orgasm.

And as her mind, hazed by pleasure, slowly returned to reality, a new plan formed in her head, and with a quick, but difficult to pull off maneuver - a drawback of the new addition to her body - she rolled and pinned Chat to the ground, much to his surprise.

- My lady?

Chat's ears perked up when he saw her move along his naked body, leaving a trail of kisses as well as her milk along it. And when she reached her destination, she shot him with a mischievous, sly smirk that would have turn his legs to jelly if he wasn't downed already.

Her delicate fingers closed around his half-lips cock, bringing his sensitive tip to her mouth, and as her lips brushed his skin, it twitched satisfyingly in her hand, signalling he was ready again.

- You just lay there, kitty, and let me take care of you...

Marinette's soft, velvety voice, spiked with just a trace of lust worked its magic on Chat right away. Though Marinette might have been surprised by the sudden changes to her body, the superheroine adapted to them at once and decided to put them to good use. Her voluptuous, wobbly breasts engulfed Chat's hard cock, as Marinette proceeded to give her first tit-job of her life, given that now she had proper equipment for it.

As Chat got lost in her ample bosom, he threw his head back, filling the air around them with low purr of delight, followed by prolonged moan when Ladybug's mouth met with his cock's head upon her first bob. it was equally fascinating for Marinette to watch as Chat's length is enveloped by her breasts, and how she can now stimulate far more of him than when her mounds were small an perky.

She had to keep an eye on his legs that twitched with every few seconds in response to her caresses. Chat's claws closed around the nearest edges, after frantically trying to find one to push away his oncoming climax, and his slim, but muscular torso arched from time to time, in sync with Marinette pushing her massive breasts up and down.

To make things a bit varied, she slowed down her moves, replacing them with a bit of her tongue-work, much to Chat's delight. Marinette could distinguish her name being muttered by her lover, begging her to finish her love torture, but the superheroine had none of that. While she was certain Chat would love nothing more than jump to his knees and face-fuck her, she wanted to prolong his pleasure as much as she could, knowing full well of the building and boiling climax in his loins.

As her tongue ran around his head, Marinette had to steer away to taste her own body, still covered with traces of milk she was leaking, and when the same tongue returned to his tool, Chat moaned again, feeling the liquid she was mixing with his pre-cum, almost as if he could taste it again. Once more he was privileged to see how the once-shy superheroine pushed her limit of perversion with a kink neither of them expected to enjoy an hour earlier.

And it was that knowledge (combined with her dedication to bring Chat to climax, as she started bobbing her breasts up and down again), that drove Chat to his edge, turning his moans incomprehensible begging only Marinette could understand and reply to. She waited until Chat's eyes would meet her again, and spoke to him taking breaks from kissing his swollen tip ready to burst.

- You, kitty - she started - You like my milk... But I...

She pressed her hands against her breasts, wanting to completely envelop Chat's cock between her massive breasts.

- ...I prefer cream.

A loud, yet weak cry of defeat escaped Chat's lips at the same time as first rope of cum flew from his swollen tip, landing straight across Ladybug's face, forcing her to close her eyes momentarily, though she opened them a second later, just so she can marvel at Chat's virility.

Just as second rope of cum was about to decorate her face, Marinette opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, inviting Chat to change his aim, though with his cock still engulfed by her breasts, she was much in control of the trajectory, and with some difficulties, she has managed to fill her mouth with the thick, sticky seed, getting the first sniff of the pungent and aggressive, but alluring taste and smell of her lover.

Three more streams of his cum landed in Marinette's lips, before her treatment has emptied Chat's balls, and the heroine could swallow the veritable pool of Chat's cream sitting in her mouth. She did it without breaking the eye contact with him, making sure he'd hear the guttural, gulping noises as his essence travelled down her throat, his warmth, taste and smell lingering far longer thanks to its consistency. He must have been saving for days...

But that wasn't complete end of Chat's climax; long after he stopped supplying Marinette with his seed, he withdrew from between the heavenly trap of her breasts, and another strands of his seed adorned them, prompting Marinette to perform action she wasn't able before, due to how much bigger and more supple her breasts have become. She pushed her breasts just up enough so she can lick off each and every drop of cum Chat left, as if it was the most delicious meal she wouldn't let go to waste. And the sight of expression on Chat's face was a reward already, aside of the familiar, musky aftertaste that reminded Marinette who has just marked her as his. Not to mention that as she squeezed her breast, Chat's essence mixed with her milk, adding a new taste of sweetness to his salty one.

Marinette revelled in the overwhelming storm of tastes that filled her mouth, and that indulgence gave Chat opportunity to counter-attack. Though he was pressed to the ground by her body and her breasts that now were a significant part of it, the superhero easily rolled her to her back, his head already back between her mounds, licking the milk that has managed to leak during his climax.

- I'd say that's a tie, my lady. - Of course you'd say that. - Marinette chuckled - You just want to get comfy and drink milk, and I just happen to have what you need...

In response, Chat let out a soft purr, as he nuzzled himself into Marinette's breasts, never taking eyes from his lover. Marinette reached and toyed with his untidy golden hair, and her charming smile managed to lure him from between her breasts for another long-needed kiss.

And just when she thought she would be given some time to relax, Chat Noir yanked her legs upwards, pressing them against her body, trapping her enlarged breasts between them, squishing them even more, which made them appear even larger.

- Sorry, Ladybug, but you are just too appetising to not ravish...

Marinette yelped when Chat's hard cock entered her again, and she felt Chat's delicious weight on top of her. She knew her new form would drag a very primal string in his masculine mind, and she did not object when he jumped to his feet and pushed her into a mating press, ready to engage in deeply animalistic form of love making.

His hips worked twice as hard than previously, wanting to reach as far into her throbbing, needy sex as possible, and while he was leaning over her, he was given once more chance to taste her delicious milk, each time he plunged himself inside her.

Ladybug's legs dangled above their heads, in sync of his ravenous thrusts, and as Marinette met his eyes, she had no doubts what drove him into his frenzied state. She knew that her kwami chose to make her look like a perfect mating partner, and that Chat was making sure there was enough milk for his kittens...

Their frantic bucking lasted shorter than they expected, but the same, wild thought they shared pushed them over the edge at the same time. Chat grabbed her thick thighs, buried his face between her breasts that erupted with milk, and in turn flooded her once more with his virile seed, bringing their shared fantasy to completion.

Chat collapsed on top of her, landing his head across Laybug's vast breasts, once more basking in their sweet glory. When their lips met again, they could both taste it, and the two lovers fell into a tight embrace.

The two were blissfully unaware that in the mean time the sun has gone down, but that only meant there will be less light for onlookers to catch them.

=====================

Standing by the kitchen counter, Marinette concentrated on making another batch of freshly baked sweets, so then they can be ready in an hour or so when the bakery opens. It was the quiet before the storm, but Marinette enjoyed those early morning hours... especially when she had someone to help her.

Adrien sneaked up behind his girlfriend, peppering her exposed neck with kisses, while his hands gently travelled up and down her waist, though once he saw what she's been making this whole time, his caresses stopped,and he let out a satisfying purr. On the counter lay several, hemispherical pastries, glazed in white marzipan, each adorned with a candied cherry on top, and the longer Adrien stared at them, the more he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

- Well, our adventure has certainly given you some inspiration, Marinette. Your original design? - I wish. - Marinette snickered - Those are called Saint Agatha's breasts, it's an old, Italian treat.

She handed him one, watching as his fingers dance on the shiny surface.

- It does remind me of what happened yesterday, though... - Adrien smiled, before taking a bite of the sugary coating. - I might have double-glazed them just like you did me.

Marinette brought her finger to his mouth to collect a small crumble of marzipan stuck to his lips, and predictably, her boyfriend wasn't just ravenous for sweets, as he quickly licked her finger clean too.

- Adrien! - Marinette pulled back and rushed to the sink - Warn me next time... - Okay, here's a warning..

Adrien chuckled, closing his arms around her belly once more. He sneaked his mouth to her neck, while his arms separated, each travelling closely to one of her erogenous zones. His left hand dived underneath her apron and tried getting into her panties, while the right one caressed her perky breasts, and as soon as his fingers began toying around her nipples, Marinette addressed something that has been on her mind.

- You miss them, don't you? - You know that I love you exactly the way you are... - Adrien answered tactfully - Don't lie, kitty - Marinette interrupted him. - You are, alas, only a man, therefore, I know you liked when my rack was three times the size of my current one. - Fine, if you want to, then I will say it - he kissed her neck - But just because I had more of you to love. Is it okay if I admit that I do slightly miss them? - If you'll keep finishing inside me, like yesterday, then I can assure you, you'll get them back very soon...

Marinette yelped, when his hands travelled back to her hips and spun her around in place, but once she met his face, she closed her arms behind his neck without missing a beat, just in time for his comeback.

- Is that a warning, or an invitation?

Adrien raised his brow, watching as her face reddened.

- Tell you what, I'm gonna finish in five minutes, and we might find out. - If you'll wear this apron then I will finish in five minutes... - Adrien!

#miraculust #mlnsfw #ladynoir #adrinette #lemon #nautiscaraderfics

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always5hineee · 4 years

Text

Hell and Back- Chapter 21: In the Name of the Law (Trials 27-29)

Word count: 1053

Chapter warnings: Mild language, Violence, and Dangerous actions

[Please do not replicate any of the behaviors read in this book.]

-----

Raising Sehun's hand into the air, the boy had a wide smile on his face. Although there were still red streaks over his face and bruises quickly blotting his skin, he was overjoyed to take victory. The announcer finally dropped his glove, asking the crowd,

"So, should our new arena champion get a break? Or should we move to round two!?" The mass of people screamed and cheered at the second notion, causing his grin to waver.

"Wait... what?"

"Looks like the people want you to fight next, too!"

"Oh, no, I'm okay, thanks." Sehun laughed awkwardly, walking towards the rubbery ropes of the arena, only to be caught by the announcer's hand.

"You can't just be okay. You chose to fight, so you're fighting. You either get knocked out and lose, or you win. And I know a lot of guys here who can't wait to try it with you! No one's ever beaten the golden ninja, after all." Staring at him in fear, Sehun twisted out of his grip, hopping the barrier and darting through the crowd towards her. The people around them began crushing in on him, trying to force him back up to the arena, holding him up on their shoulders like some sort of sick idol.

Pulling her legs apart by the knees, Chanyeol dropped her down from his shoulders to his back, causing her to yelp in surprise. Now holding her by the underside of her knees in a piggyback style, Chanyeol started trying to push his way towards the exit.

"Wait, we have to find-"

"He'll be fine, we need to leave before we draw any more-" Chanyeol had been trying to avoid getting caught in anyone's direct sights. The less people who had eyes on them, the better. Unfortunately, this all came crashing down as to men ran through the door, wearing very familiar clothes.

"Police! Everyone freeze!" The LED's went out, giving way to glaring police flashlights and the faint sound of sirens outside. The room broke out into a hurricane of people, running in all directions. Not only had the fights been underground, if not illegal, but the place was crawling with underage drinking and illicit drug use. Turning around to try and find a different exit, Kris pushed through.

"Go! That's the fastest way to the car!" As she shouting flooded her brain, she felt an alarm ringing in her pocket. Was it the app? Wrapping her legs more tightly around Chanyeol's body, she reached around to pull it out, careful not to drop it against the writhing mass. Pulling it to her gaze, she saw a newfoundedly familiar bubble.

Do you wish to replace player Chanyeol's trial with a simultaneous trial to player Sehun's?

"Chanyeol, do you want to take a side trial?" She asked.

"Now-??"

"It might be helpful to Sehun."

"I- fine, just hit it-" He was still trying to shove through, nearing the police officers with every step. Pressing the accept button, the trial came up.

"Aggravate the cops." She told him, tapping him on the shoulder to make sure he'd heard it.

"What?!"

"Aggravate the officers!" She demanded again, pointing forward.

"This is going to aggravate them regardless," he muttered, pushing through as more began running down the stairs. They were going to start making arrests left and right. Dropping her to her feet without warning, he grabbed her hand, shoving one of the police out of the way to run up the staircase.

"Young man! Freeze!"

"Like hell!" As she cop grabbed his shoulder, Chanyeol spun and slapped him in the face. It was much less ceremonious and well placed as the one in Sehun's fight, but it served to distract him. As the man reached for his taser, she felt another buzz in her hand. Looking down, there was another set of text.

Do you wish to replace player Kris's trial with a simultaneous trial to player Chanyeol's and player Sehun's? Without even asking him, she accepted. Looking up, she searched for him, calling out.

"Kris!" Once she had laid eyes on him, looking attentively for her request, she read it out. "Knock this guy out for us!" He almost laughed, shoving through a few of the other members to get to them.

"With pleasure!" Having cleared the group, they ran up the stairs as fast as they could, Chanyeol picking her back up like a princess move, throwing her over his shoulder. She was surprised he could even manage the weight after all of that, he must have been tired. Making it back up to the car, they noted the many flashing red and blue lights outside, leaving them to hope that the majority of the officers were still residing within. Jumping in, turning on the engine, and keeping the headlights off, Kris wasn't exactly checking for seatbelts as he sped out of the deck.

"Shit, that was close." Suho sighed, looking back. "Do we have everyone?" Checking along with him, Y/N took account of everyone. Sehun wa coming down off his high, fading into sheer exhaustion after fighting with the apparently infamous golden ninja. Everyone besides he and Chanyeol were relatively unharmed, although they all reeked of smoke and booze.

"Everyone's gone twice, right?" Kyungsoo said. "Can we please go home and sleep take a shower, something?"

"I haven't been." Y/N said. "I've been trying to tell you the whole time, but you guys just won't let me go. Now I'm the only one left." The boys all began looking at each other, not sure of what to say.

"Maybe it'll let us cover your challenges-" Chen began to offer, but it made her more than upset.

"No! I'm not some helpless loser just because I don't have powers like you! Half of you haven't even used your abilities for the challenges. You all act like I need your protection or whatever, but now I'm stuck with the two hardest trials. But you know what? I don't even care! I'll do them, and I'll be fine." Opening the app to the selection page, she cleared the three completed trials.

"Y/N, wait-" Suho tried to stop her, reaching for the phone. Still, it was too late. She selected her own name from the lineup, eyes glimmering with both irritation and intent.

Go to Chapter 22

#exo #exo x reader #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #baekhyun #lay #xiumin #kyungsoo #kai #chen #chanyeol #sehun #suho #kris #luhan #tao #x reader #Kpop fanfiction #Kpop fanfic #Kpop x reader #kpop #trials

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mentalmimosa · 5 years

Text

long time no see

Prompt: We had one really bad date and never spoke again and now our friends have set us up on a blind date.

(PS: Want more of this ‘verse? Check out part II: [mentalmimosa.tumblr.com/post/186068940910/long-time-no-see-part-ii]

I am here, Tony told himself and his second gin martini, under duress.

Honestly, though, he was there because he was a damn fool.

Inventing the internet’s favorite dating app was one thing--Tinder with a heart, CNET called it; Gizmodo’s headline: Get laid without losing your soul; to Autostraddle, it was One click, one love, one fuck--but having your supposed friends and colleagues yell physician, heal thyself and set up an account on your behalf? That was some whole other bullshit entirely.

Especially since they wouldn’t let him see the guy they’d hooked him up with. Or even tell Tony his name.

Nope, all Nat and Rhodes would cough up was be at this table in this bar on this day and this time and so here he was, people pleaser extraordinaire, not one to back down from a dare, parked in the requisite spot. Just to be obstinate, he’d gotten there twenty minutes early and immediately started a tab. Even billionaire genius would-be playboys need a little extra courage now and then.

And when then was his first blind date in, oh, seven years, yeah, he’d need gin now and later.

He sat back a little and scanned the Wednesday night crowd. It was still pretty thin, though things were getting more interesting the closer the clock crept towards the appointed hour, towards eight. There was a cute couple nesting on the barstools farthest away from the door, her arm around his back and his curled over her shoulders; they’d barely stopped banging lips long enough to take a sip. There was a group of older guys at a table near the center of the room, their bald heads and silver crowns lit up by the low-hanging lamp. They’d been in place when Tony arrived, but only now was the beer sinking in, apparently, because the whole lot of them had their heads thrown back with a laugh. Vets, maybe, Tony thought, or old boys from the factory floor; whoever they were, they were having a rip-roaring time.

And then there were the smattering of butterflies around the room, a younger crowd whose eyes roamed from their phone to the door and back again. Waiting for someone. Someone they didn’t know, maybe. Just like him.

He took another sip and spun a story where they were all avid users of Faen, the kind of people who used the app in the shower and on the subway and snuck a peek while in meetings, all of them rolling, scrolling, sexting in hopes of finding just the right One--for tonight.

These lovely humans, he told himself, and all the other millions like them were the reason why he now had a house in Edinborough and another in Fiji and that charming cottage parked on top of a high rise in downtown LA. They were the reason why the media now treated him as a relationship guru, a knowledgeable figure when it came down to the matters--all that really matters in life--of sex and, meh, maybe love. They were the reason why the zeitgeist was for people to discuss their preferred means of orgasm in the first five minutes of the date and to be somewhere at least semi-private within 30. They were the reason that Faen was now a verb, like Google and Facebook before it, the reason that some bars now had NO FAENING signs on their bathrooms, their storerooms--hell, anywhere where there were enough shadows to pretend that you and your date were alone.

And according to some--the kinds of pundits that Tony made a point to send flowers to--Faen was the reason that America’s T&A discourse had made a hard turn into sex-as-consent, as good-natured negotiation, as the sort of topic that was best discussed with the lights on and in public (right) before anyone shed any clothes. His app hadn’t created the moment, but it had capitalized on it, and now after five years and several billion in sales, Faen was, in Page Six’s words, The Biggest F*cking Thing.

He raised his eyebrows at the waiter and then peered at his watch. Five minutes to go. No doubt whoever Nat and Rhodey had picked out for him would be the type to be exactly on time.

If the guy was quick enough with his drink, he could down half the sucker before then.

The funny part was--well, it was the kind of thing that was only funny in retrospect. Like, multiple years out in the distance. Probably be even better after several fucking millenia. It was this:

Faen had been spawned from his brilliant imagination (true), just like he told every interviewer, but its actual genesis, its primordial ooze? That had been the world’s worst ever blind date. Worst because the guy had been right down Tony’s alley: hot and broad with a face that the gods would have paid for--and, unfortunately, an equally good-looking ex. An ex who’d showed up in the middle of the entree, pulled up on a Harley out front, and stormed in like Butterfield’s was the Alamo or something and--no, no, wait for it--gotten down on one fucking knee. In the middle of Tony’s blind date.

Never mind that Tony had already been measuring the metaphorical curtains, been ranking sex positions in order of I must have it now and determining the shortest route from their table to the nearest cab and then back, so beautifully, speedily back, to his place, to his bed. Or the kitchen table. He hadn’t quite sorted out that.

Never mind that the guy--Steve, ah. Dreamy, agate-eyed Steve--had been into him, too. He hadn’t been imagining that. Not with Steve’s hand brushing his every time he reached for the wine; not with the guy’s big, booming laugh when Tony said something wildly inappropriate and his sneaky, dirty little grin. No, there was totally chemistry, whiz bang Flash Gordon stuff, and if they’d left after ten minutes of talking like Tony’s dick had been demanding, then the night, the rest of his life--hell, all of that shit would have been roses.

But they hadn’t because you didn’t do that, drag off a guy who you’d made reservations for, a guy who’d just ordered a steak. No, you were supposed to bide your time and throb for three courses and coffee. Then you could take the boy home and get fucked.

But then, the guy’s recalcitrant, smoking hot ex wasn’t supposed to crash your date, either, wasn’t supposed to bust in in black leather and a pained, lovesick expression all the while clutching (gulp) a big ring.

And your date--Steve, the magnificent, forever unfuckable Steve--wasn’t supposed to tear up and say Yes!, leaving you alone with the check and the whole restaurant applauding and you left holding half a bottle of wine and a perfect, untouched fucking steak.

Worst blind date in all of goddamn history. That’s what Tony’d dubbed it the next morning when Rhodey pulled him free of an empty bottle of whiskey and a Golden Girls marathon.

“Tony,” Rhodey had said with infinite patience the third time Tony broke down, “think about this for a second. It was one date. Half of one, ok. You knew the guy thirty-some minutes. What are the odds--on a cosmic scale, I’m talking--that he’d have been anything to you but a good fuck?”

Tony’d made a face at him from the floor, the place where he’d decided he was perfectly happy to stay. “A good fuck, he says sneering, like, oh, what, that’s not enough?”

“It would’ve been enough for the night, at least. But I know you, man. Deny it all you want to but you’re looking for more than just a bird in the hand.”

“What’s that mean, a bird in the hand? Never got that one. Who goes around fisting birds?”

“Ok, no,” Rhodey’d said, holding up a hand. “Stop right there. Forget the metaphor and stick to the meaning, Tone: what you really want out of this life is a life with a good man.”

“No,” Tony said muddily, moodily. “I just want to have a good time, ‘kay, one night at a fucking time.”

It had taken a few months, but from that conversation, that one god awful date, the whole forest that was now Faen had grown, and sometimes, when he was drinking scotch instead of cheap sweet tea vodka, Tony thought: I should find that guy and thank him, huh? Send him a beer coozie or something, because without him, where would I be?

(And then, when he’d made the invariable switch over fresh ice cubes, he’d think about the guy again, far more puriently. That big body beneath him, or arched over him, gasping. Those wine-tinted lips on his dick.)

He shook his glass now, back in the present, one minute left on the clock, and drowned that particular thought in the taste of olives and ice.

He hoped Steve and his hot motorcycle man were doing awesome, wherever they were. Probably they were out in one of the boroughs where the leather guy could strip his bike in the driveway and Steve could sit on the stoop in the summer sun and sketch the afternoon away.

Steve liked to draw, was good at it, too. Tony had never forgotten that. Maybe because he still had the grocery receipt Steve had plucked from his pocket and handed over, shyly: a little sketch he’d done on the bus.

“She was asleep,” Steve had said as Tony looked at the older woman’s face, the way that Steve in just a few lines had captured the exhausted sag of her face, the wild spread of her hair. “Like lights out, gone. I probably should have woken her up, you know? I thought about it. What if she’d missed her stop?”

“But you drew her instead.”

“Yeah.” Those pretty cheeks colored. “Just something to pass the time.”

“You’re really good at this,” Tony’d said, still staring at the thing, captivated. “I mean, Steve, come on. This is great.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tony tried to hand the sketch back.

“No,” Steve had said with a gorgeous, heady smile. “You should keep it.”

And damn it, he had.

It was framed and hanging in his bathroom, the private one at his place here in New York. The center of his sanctum sanctorum, something only he could see. It was, he figured, the closest thing to a touchstone, weirdly, that he’d ever had.

The little hand met the big hand. Eight o’clock.

Nothing happened.

He peered at the door, the strains of the sunset it couldn’t quite hold back.

Not a thing.

He lifted his glass to his mouth and almost let himself be happy, almost. How much time, he wondered, do I technically have to wait? Five minutes, maybe? Traffic’s a bitch tonight. Or maybe I should give him ten?

When he set his drink down, though, and looked up again, he had his answer. And, it seemed, his date.

Oh fuck.

“Hey,” Steve the-very-same said, looking seriously, seriously freaked. “Er, Tony, wasn’t it? Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” Tony managed. Huh. So this was what it felt like to be bitch slapped by the universe. “You can fucking say that again.”

#stony #blind date #unexpected reunions

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randomoranges · 4 years

Text

i’ve had this idea since the middle of january. a month that feels was 55 yrs ago. anyways, after much procrastination i finally finished it.

Safe and Tucked Away

Calvin looked down to his chest and couldn’t help but grin. He shook his head, half amused and reached over for his phone, careful not to shift too much. He waited for a moment, observed the scene for any signs of damage and when he saw none, he opened up his camera app. He quickly and quietly snapped a photo of the scene playing out before him and then opened up his messaging app.

“Hey – is this normal for your boyfriend or should I be worried?”

Message from: Goldilocks

He attached a photo of Étienne, who had curled up around him, and was sleeping rather soundly, while he used Calvin’s body as both pillow and blanket.

“First of all, awwwww <3 Second of all, I may be slightly jealous. Third of all, it means he trusts you! Whatever you do – don’t wake him up.”

Message from: Deadward :)

Edward cautioned and Calvin would have never dared. In parts for fear of his own life and in other parts because he knew Étienne didn’t have the best relationship with sleep. He wasn’t blind, he saw the dark circles under Étienne’s eyes. Calvin silently laughed and tried to sit in a more comfortable position without bothering his charge.

“What is he? A cat?”

Message from: Goldilocks

“No, but you know how he is. You saw how he looked like when he got here. Something’s been bugging him and I know he’s been on edge ever since he got here. So I’m glad he finally actually crashed and that apparently he trusts you enough to use you as a bed.”

Message from: Deadward :)

“It means he’s being vulnerable around you. This is good, actually.”

Message from: Deadward :)

Edward added as though he was some daft child who didn’t understand. (Although, he was glad for the extra explanation, Edward was better versed in Étienne.) He wasn’t privy to all of Étienne’s conversations with Edward – knew the two of them spoke of things that neither of them shared with Calvin – personal things that didn’t really concern him, and it was okay. He shared things with Edward that he assumed Edward didn’t parrot back to others either.

They were still – figuring this out. How the dynamics worked. It was all very new to him and it was still – a bit much, but Edward was important to him. It had taken him decades to figure himself out, even longer to realise what it was he felt for Edward and after nearly losing him in the process, Calvin never wanted to live through that again. It wasn’t always easy being so open minded about the situation, but he tried. Really tried. Every day he tried. He tried for the sake of Edward’s happiness and for his own relationship with Edward. Because Edward was important to him and he loved the fool.

At first, it had felt like a punch to the stomach. An ugly voice inside his head had whispered that he wasn’t enough – that he couldn’t satisfy all of Edward’s needs and that he was nothing but a rebound. The in-between relationship before Edward could get his hands (back) on what he really wanted. The sad appetizer quickly dealt with before the delicious main course. That Edward was only using him. That he’d get tossed aside the moment Edward grew bored of him. That Edward could never love him as much as he loved him. That he was living a lie.

He had fought hard to quiet that voice. Had done his utmost best not to let it win. (And it had helped that Edward had been there, to talk it through with him – to assure him that he wasn’t some flight of fancy, that he cared and loved him deeply, even if he had similar feelings for Étienne. That he wouldn’t do anything unless Calvin gave him the okay. That they were in this together.)

He replayed those conversations in his head every morning. Looked at himself in the mirror every day and reminded himself that Edward loved and cared for him. That they were on the same page.

If one small, insignificant part of him still silently rejoiced that at least he lived physically closer to Edward than Étienne did and that he could spend more time with him, well, that was between him and that one small, insignificant part of him.

Still, with time, over the years, he had slowly come to get to know Étienne and his opinion of the man had shifted. He still didn’t agree with his lifestyle, still thought he was a reckless heathen on most days, but – Calvin believed he’d gotten a good read on him. For a guy who liked to play it tough and act as though nothing affected him, Calvin believed it was all just an illusion. Étienne cared. A lot. Especially about the things and people he loved. And one of those people happened to be Edward. He supposed they had that much in common.

And, because of that, Calvin tried.

“D’you plan on ever coming back home or are we stuck here together forever? I’m pretty sure the both of us came down to see you and not reacquaint ourselves with your furniture.”

Message from: Goldilocks

“Excuse you, I’m at an Exciting and Important Meeting and there’s no other place I’d rather be. You will have to manage on your own.”

Message from: Deadward :)

Calvin chuckled at the message and rolled his eyes.

“How bored are you, actually? I promise I won’t judge you for not enjoying Every Meeting You Have to Attend for work.”

Message from: Goldilocks

“It’s the fucking worst. I’m ready to set the whole thing on fire. Do not repeat this to anyone.”

Message from: Deadward :)

“Cross my heart and hope to die. Will you be much longer?”

Message from: Goldilocks

“No – I should be home soon. Think you’ll manage until then?”

Message from: Deadward :)

Calvin looked back down, to tousled, brow, curly hair, a round, curved nose and a partially opened mouth. He couldn’t help the fond smile that stretched on his own face.

“Yeah, I think we’re good.”

Message from: Goldilocks

“I’ll see you soon xx”

Message from: Deadward :)

“<3”

Message from: Goldilocks

Edward sighed as he fished the keys out of his pocket. It had been a whirlwind of a week and a hell of a day. It was supposed to be his week off and therefore, Calvin was spending it with him. Nothing complicated, something nice and relaxing – just the two of them. Edward had been looking forward to it. A nice break from work, some nice quality time with Calvin – it would be good, perfect even.

Then, the week before, Étienne had called him up to let him know he’d be in town for a few days for his own work (something about a conference, guest lecturing – he still wasn’t sure what it was he was here for, Étienne had been an excited mess on the phone, but he’d gotten the part of “in town for a few days” and “thought we could spend them together” and “I’ll text you my flight details” and “miss you, love you, gotta go, sorry, bye!”).

Of course, Edward was more than thrilled to have Étienne over, even if it cut down his alone time with Calvin, but Calvin had been ever so understanding (Edward had made sure to make it up to him) and they’d still gotten a few days together. Calvin had even said that it would be nice to have Étienne over and that it would give him a chance to spend some time with him as well.

The real downer had been when he’d been called in to work for an Emergency Meeting that really, could have been dealt with in an e-mail, or when he’d return from his week off. But, work had insisted, Edward had gone in, and so, he’d left both Calvin and Étienne home, when all he wanted to do was spend time with them.

But now he was home, he could unwind with them, seek a hug from Étienne and a kiss from Calvin – they could bicker over what to do for dinner and eventually settle for takeout, probably, and then fight over what to watch on television – and it would be perfect. A nice night in with the two most important men in his life.

Therefore, Edward stepped into his home with a tired, but happy smile on his face. He called out to them both, but got no answer. He thought little of it as he chucked his shoes and removed his coat. He then slipped into his slippers and padded into his house, looking for Calvin and Étienne.

The light in the living room was on and so he made his way towards it. He was about to call out to them again, but then stopped when his eyes landed on the scene before him.

It resembled the photo Calvin had sent him earlier. Étienne was nestled close to Calvin, using his chest as a pillow. He had one hand fisted into Calvin’s shirt, the other curled by his shoulder. His breathing was even, from what Edward could tell, and he was a little slack jawed as he slept on. Calvin had apparently slumbered on as well, but what really got to Edward was the way Calvin had placed a protective arm around Étienne’s lower back, holding him close.

Edward took out his phone from his pocket and snapped a photo of this quiet moment. His heart fell full and he felt truly blessed to have witnessed such a tender and sweet moment between the two of them. He loved them so much and he was forever thankful to both of them for not only being in his life, but for working through their differences, just for his own sake and the love they had for him. It was during moments such as these that he wished he could go back in time and tell his younger self that it would be okay and that things would eventually work out. That he would be loved and that he would be happy.

Edward put his phone away, before his emotions got the best of him. Instead, he went to retrieve a blanket from the closet, before he tucked it gently over them. He paused for a moment and then placed the softest of kisses to both their foreheads, before heading to his bedroom to change, not wanting to rouse them from their rest.

Perhaps, even, he would join them in their nap.

FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: gary #pc: edmonton #pc: calgary #Edward Murphy #étienne maisonneuve #calvin BRISEBOIS LOL #gary #calvin something #projocanondoko #2020 and beyond #fic #no one can say i did not write soft monmongary #monmongary in the making lamao #post pandemic lamao.#vague year will be vague hhaha.

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lets-imaginerwby · 5 years

Note

Would do you such a soul mate au with Qrow? I love your Qrow fics. You write him so fantastic.

Soul mate au where when you first touch your soul mate, your hearts glow

---------

This was going rather poorly.

When you took the job, it was only supposed to be a simple bit of pest control. A single death stalker had been spotted lurking in the forest around a village; so far it hadn't made any moves against the villagers, but it was only a matter of time before the growing unease with it's presence attracted the creature.

So, figuring it'd be some easy money in between big jobs, you accepted. The village head has met with you upon arrival so you could get all the details, and then off into the trees you went.

Finding it had been easy enough. After roughly twenty minutes if walking, you found a trail of broken trees and prints that could have only been made by the monstrous arachnid. You kept low as you followed it's path, and soon there was the beast standing outside what you guessed was it's den.

The fight hadn't gone to shit immediately; no, in fact it was going rather well. Then the second death stalker decided to make itself known.

Your back had been to the cave, and you only managed to avoid being impaled by the golden stinger thanks to the clicking of it's mandibles alerting you.

One death stalker was easy, two was a challenge. It didn't help that this second grimm was freaking massive! The monster loomed easily twice as large as the original, it left a hole in the ground every time it brought it's stinger down. When you darted around the creature, trying to get behind it, it's claws swiped through the air, sending trees crashing to the dirt and splinters flying through the air.

If only you could have killed the first death stalker before this bastard showed up! Couldn't it have waited just a few more minutes to drag itself out?

The smaller grimm was sluggish with all the injuries you inflicted, but still, every time you avoided one stinger, you had to throw yourself out if the path of another. Death stalkers didn't usually team up like this, just your luck you found yourself up against the wonder duo.

You needed help, staying alive mattered more than a small loss of pride.

You kept into the air, pushing off against the mountain side and landing on the smaller grimm's back. You drove your weapon into the soft spot along it's neck, grunting with the effort as you sunk it in deep. The creature thrashed about wildly, trying to dislodge you and your weapon. With one hand, you held on for dear life, the other hand plunged into your pocket and pulled out your scroll.

It wasn't uncommon for hunters to find themself in a pinch, quite the opposite, so an app had been developed for such a situation. With the press of a button, you sent out a signal that would alert any nearby hunters of your location. With any luck, someone was close enough to come to your aid.

The fluttering feeling of relief was quickly crushed along with your chest. The large death stalker used your distraction to pluck you off it's dead companions back, your scroll flying out of your hand. You couldn't breath with it's grip tightening on either side of you, the only thing between you and being cut in half was your weapon, wedged between the claws to give you the tiniest bit of room. The poor thing wouldn't be able to stand the pressure for very long though, before it'd snap right along with you.

You strained against the crushing force, teeth grit and a strangled grunt forcing itself out of your throat; your arms began to shake, the sweat on your palms making it hard to keep your grip. "Come on..."

The monsters shriek rang through the air, and all at once the pressure was gone and you were left to fall to the ground.

Well this isn't much better.

A hand gripped the back of your shirt and pulled you along, releasing it's hold once you were on the ground. You gasped for air, clutching your aching chest with one hand.

Your savior stood beside you, weapon held at the ready. The familiar face you saw surprised you.

"Branwen?" You'd never interacted with him before besides the occasional word or acknowledging nod when you saw each other. He'd been in your same year at Beacon, but you'd both belonged to different social groups so you very rarely hung out.

"You alright?" His raspy voice tuned you back into the present. His eyes briefly slide to look down at you.

Taking in another shuddering breath, you pushed yourself up. "Yeah, bruised but still in one piece. Thanks for answering my call."

He shrugged, readjusting his grip on the large scythe in his hands. "Lucky for you I was passing through the area."

Ahead of you, the death stalker stumbled and hissed, a large groove in the plating on it's face, presumably where Qrow had struck it a moment ago. It was quickly regaining it's composure, burning eyes narrowing at the two of you.

You also found your footing, ignoring the pain and standing tall. "This bastard's a wild one, I haven't been able to get at any of it's weak points. It's smart, must have been around a long, long time."

He hummed "Any plans? I remember you were always the strategist for your team."

You glanced at him, eye brow raised "Didn't realize you payed so much attention to me, Branwen."

He laughed, eyes still staring down the death stalker. "Hard not to. So?"

Filing away that topic, you scanned your opponent, the landscape, and your new partner. "I think I got an idea."

The creature hissed, impatient with the stand off. It charged forward, and as it did, you and Qrow charged to meet it, each taking a side. You swiped at it's left legs, sending it stumbling to the right and into the path of Qrow's blade. It hissed in rage, turning toward Qrow, but you were ready.

You sprung onto it's head and dug your blade into one of eyes, pulling it out with a pop and jumping to the ground when it reared it's head back in pain.

Your plan was going fine, with it distracted and having gained a new blind side, it wasn't supposed to notice you charging in to plunge your blade into the soft under side it's now exposed throat.

It wasn't part of the plan for it to throw itself into a spin, it's tail sweeping low and knocking you off your feet. Your already bruised chest flared with a new surge of pain.

"(Y/n)!" Qrow dropped down beside you, kneeling to check on your condition.

You wheezed, waving a hand to let him know you were fine. The death stalker loomed over you, black mist pouring from it's punctured eye, looking more pissed than ever.

"Shit." You muttered.

Qrow growled, knuckles white around his scythe's handle. He held a hand toward you. "Can you stand?"

You looked to him, and then to the death stalker. Do you really stand a chance? At this rate, it seemed like you'd just end up as a stain on the gold of it's stinger.

The steady presence beside you wouldn't let you spiral down that thinking. You felt a tug on your soul, and you found those gentle, determined, red eyes still focused on you.

The fear in your eyes hardened into resolve, this was not where you would let it end. "Hm." You hummed in confirmation, nodding once. You lifted your hand to take his at the same time the stinger above tensed to strike.

As the death stalker struck, your hands met, and your world was filled with light.

Brilliant, beautiful strands of light twisted in the air, radiating from your surprised bodies. Neither of you ever wanted to look away from the other, ready to sink into this moment forever and bask in this feeling, this love that dominated the area around you.

The shrieking took some of the romance of the moment away.

With great reluctance, you tore your gaze away from Qrow, from your soul mate, to look at the source of the damned noise.

The death stalker shuddered, desperately trying to back away from the light. Wherever the gentle beams touched the grimm, it's body started to dissolve, bone plating cracking and eroding, black mist billowing off of it.

Qrow's hand squeezed yours, and it only took a brief glance to confirm you were on the same page.

With a cry, you ran forward, hand in hand, and leapt up in sync. Your blades arced through the air, opening the exposed flesh of the creatures underside and sending another cloud of thick, black mist into the air.

The light was so close to the beast now, it's body couldn't take it, crumbling in on it's self and dissolving on the spot.

The light faded somewhat, still bright but not as blinding. The colors bounced off the mist around you, giving the atmosphere an especially magic quality.

Your cheat still hurt like hell, your muscles shock, and you were exhausted, but you were certain you'd never had a happier smile on your face than right now.

The man before you, the light illuminating his face and making him look downright angelic, had a wide grin on his face as well, his chest heaving.

You gave his hand a squeeze "Nice work, Branwen."

"Qrow," he said, breathless "call me Qrow."

You hummed, reaching up with your free hand to rest it on his cheek "Qrow." His name felt perfect on your tounge, natural. "My soulmate."

#rwby #rwby imagines #rwby scenarios #imagine rwby #qrow branwen x reader #qrow branwen #qrow branwen imagine #too lazy to really spell chwck right now so uh aorry I'll probs read through it again later lol #ah it took a while for qrow to actually show up sorry

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hydrus · 4 years

Text

Version 381

youtube

windows

zip

exe

macOS

app

linux

tar.gz

source

tar.gz

I had a good week with a couple of challenges. MPV is now ready for all windows users and is turned on by default.

MPV

Thank you to the advanced users who tested and gave feedback on MPV. I have eliminated the crashes, tightened up the jank, and am now rolling it out to all Windows users by default for video, audio, and gif/apng. All media view settings under options->media will be reset this week.

MPV is a good free media viewer. One of the core benefits of moving hydrus to Qt was being able to plug it into our media player, enabling hardware-accelerated video playback and audio. It looks just like the native player, with the seek bar beneath, but it works much faster, able to play 1080p or 4k videos at 60fps at full or unusual zooms. And of course, it makes noise!

This is early days. I have only just started plugging into MPV, so many features are basic or not yet available. The global volume and mute controls are currently some very ugly controls in the top media hover panel. Slideshows will not move forward on an MPV window (hydrus doesn't know when an MPV player has 'played once through' yet), and some processes like the archive/delete filter will need some extra workflow options now that more users will be playing videos at high res (left-click on the player pauses the video, so to set 'keep' on archive/delete, you'll have to click on some whitespace, of which there is so much less when the video is so big). Please let me know what your top priorities for improvement are, and of course, if you encounter errors or crashes, let me know. I'll keep working.

Even though it was a lot of difficult work, I am overall really pleased with how this has gone. The only big remaining bug that I need to nail down is an unusual thing where after multiple mpv viewings in a preview window, that page will stutter some query/thumbnail loading unless the mouse is moving. This is a slightly frustrating bug, but the benefits of MPV are enough that I am happy to live with it. I will also get it going for Linux and macOS, which I did not have time for this week.

the rest

Assuming that users will want to set/unset MPV and other view/zoom options for filetypes in the coming weeks, I have reworked how all of that works under ''options->media''. By default, you now set view and zoom options for 'all video files' and 'all images', and then if you have specific options for just webms or pngs, you can set those specific options to override the group default. Every user will be reset to the new defaults on update. Please have a play with this this week.

Similarly, I have reworked the UI for system:filetype. The growing list of individual filetypes are now hidden from view when not needed, and the 'group' types have tristate checkboxes for better review. It takes up less space and just feels better.

Also, I have pulled gifs and apngs out of the 'image' group and created a specific 'animation' group for them. This doesn't change much, but it makes it easier to search for or manage settings for static images vs little animations.

I fixed a bunch of the weird layouts that were accidentally introduced last week. Please report any more you find--I am still fighting to convert old wx layout code to Qt's system, so this could happen again in a place I do not notice.

full list

mpv:

mpv is now available and the default for all windows users

I believed I have eliminated the final reported mpv crash

mpv load and unload delays are greatly reduced. initial load still takes about half a second, but subsequent loads are now as quick as native renderers

mpv seems to work well for gif and apng

added a very simple global volume slider and audio mute checkbox to the media viewer top hover window. this was a quick patch--much better controls and shortcuts will come in future

mpv windows now properly re-show the cursor on mouse movement

unified mpv mouse press/release handling with native animation--click down now does pause/play and starts a drag event

unfortunately, in some cases embedding mpv requires overriding local OS number rendering (e.g. 1,234 vs 1.234). hydrus number rendering is now coerced to the english style with commas until we can figure out a better solution--sorry!

cleared up an issue where simple clicks on page tabs would trigger micro-page drags that were immediately cancelled. this situation was exacerbated when the page being left had an active mpv window. the flicker of page drag cursor is now gone, and some weird situations where static clicks during busy time could move a tab should be fixed

eliminated the recent issue in the media viewer where transitioning from one media type to another through navigation, particularly mpv->other, would flicker a single frame of the last 'other' media shown(!)

fixed a bug where repeated mpv views in the preview viewer could disable client file drag and drop

the bug where thumbnails may not waterfall in unless the mouse is moving after some mpv videos are loaded for a page is relieved but not completely fixed

if the preview window is collapsed and hidden, media will no longer ever load into it

fixed an edge-case bug where the mpv window would not like being told to show nothing when it was already showing nothing

wrapped mpv load errors in a basic graceful catch

fixed an issue some users had with loading mpv's dll

file types:

a new file metatype, 'animation', is added, for gif and apng. these are no longer considered 'image' for a variety of purposes

the filetype selection panel, which is used in system:filetype and import folder UI, has had an overhaul--it now has tristate 'mime group' checkboxes to represent a half-filled group and expand/collapse buttons to hide the tall filetype lists. individual filetype lists will start hidden unless their default value is a partially filled group

the media view options have a similar overhaul: they are now collapsed to general filetypes by default. you set view and zoom options for the generalised 'video' type under options->media, and if you want to set specific options for webm or anything else, you can add/delete those types to override the general default

the new default options for a fresh client are just for these general types. if mpv is available, video, animations, and audio now start with mpv as the default viewer. video and animation zoom is now flexible (not fixed to 50%, 100%, 200%) and will fill the media canvas

all media view options will be reset to this simple default on update! if you have specific zoom or display preferences, please reset them after the update--but you might like to play with mpv a bit first, as it renders at large and smooth zooms very well

the rest:

the new thumbnail right-click file selection routine will now only focus and scroll to the first member of the selection if no other members of the new selection are already in view

fixed some caching code and sped up the new select/remove menu count generation (which can lag for very large pages) by two to six times

sped up file filter counting code by about ten percent

fixed weird layout on: migrate database panel, duplicates page (left and right), edit shortcuts, edit import folder, and the filename tagging panel

fixed an issue where the media viewer's hover windows might flicker into view for one frame when the mouse moved over the center of the media viewer for the first time

fixed a media viewer shutdown issue that would sometimes lead to the first file in the list being opened in the shutting-down viewer for an instant or highlighted as the new thumb focus

the file maintenance system that queues up missing/broken files' urls for redownload will no longer re-select the download page on every new url

fixed an issue where a downloader's tag blacklist was not being applied on the child files of certain kinds of multiple-file post (such as with pixiv)

deleting a very long tag should no longer create a very wide confirmation dialog in the manage tags dialog

fixed some 'the panel grew a bit, but the parent window didn't grow quite enough and now it has scrollbars for two pixels of extra content' sizing issues

fixed some dialog sizing calculations when the parent window was borderless fullscreen

maybe fixed a rare event processing bug

improved quality of some misc data comparison code across the program

did some significant backend event/pubsub code cleanup, mostly related to getting mpv working a bit cleaner

improved thumbnail rendering time

improved smoothness of thumbnail fade animations (at least for when they are working right, ha ha!)

misc fixes

next week

Unfortunately, I believe that I burned out over the past four to eight weeks. I have been pushing too hard, trying and failing to keep up with my promises, and along with some IRL stuff it nuked my schedule and energy and mood. It hit a breaking point this week, and I realised I was working non-sustainably. I will fix this situation in the coming weeks by altering my schedule. I expect to scale back on overall work hours and hydrus changelog work specifically, focusing instead on keeping myself healthy first so I can face other work (like keeping up with messages and maintaining a productive workspace) and not go nuts. I will also try to promise less when it comes to timeframes so I do not feel bound to stay up late working. I apologise if you have been waiting on me for something--I lost where I was.

I would like to do some more mpv work next week, and do some code cleaning. I will also be taking a bit of time off, so it will be a light week. Thanks everyone!

EDIT: If you have trouble loading mpv, please use the new easy settings under options->media to go back to the native viewer for the main filetypes, and let me know your situation. Some users with millions of files over a network share seem to have very slow startup.

#release

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headstrongblake · 5 years

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💥 Try to calm my muse during an overwhelming emotional moment

MEMES ————————— @trikrulinkon with appearance from @myhiraeth

Both Fox and Octavia are sat on the couch, lap top as close to them as possible as they greet Bellamy with waves of how are you’s, we love you’s, and speaking over each other. It’s really the beginning of all their calls. Except this one is already frustrating. The connection’s spotty and by the time Fox got up to play with the pups, giving O the first half of the call, Bellamy’s voice and picture no longer matched up. Truthfully? She hates the calls. Would much rather have a full letter ( or bellamy to stop leaving ). Skype is always spotty and the chats are too short with her brother before she’s passing the lap top to Foxie so her best friend can have the second half of the call. The only part she enjoyed was physically hearing his voice.

He usually likes her to just jump right into catching him up on life from the last call but as she’s launching in to a tale of her latest adventure on a hiking trip with Lincoln before he’d left for a rotation to a hospital nearby, Bellamy’s cutting her off—

O, you’re not going to be able to write for awhile, I’ll—-The call crackled too much for her to hear every word —something your way when I can. Octavia’s hand went to the screen on her lap top, trying to reposition it towards her as if that would make the skype call clearer. “What’s happening, Bell?” Her brows furrow, not understanding why he’s saying that–-what’s going on? Why can’t they write? The worry in her tone must have caught Fox’s attention because before O knew it, Fox had left Bear and Terra to wrestle for their rope alone and was standing beside the couch. Listen, I can’t tell you much, camps moving. “What? Bell, why?” This isn’t right. It’s never happened before that she knew of and her brother’s been leaving for the military since she was fourteen. His pixalized features appeared to be looking around before he focused on the screen again. Hey, hey, don’t worry ‘bout it, O—just tell Fox and I’ll writ— her brother’s features froze together, cutting his words and all the sound off at once before the skype shut down. Just like that he was gone again. “Bell? Bellamy?” Her finger went to the mouse as she leaned forward, trying to reconnect the call. “Bellamy!”

——————————————————-

After Octavia’s reaction to her brother’s call earlier, it took more than a few moments of convincing before Fox agreed that she couldn’t miss her shift at the diner. Octavia offered to keep Bear during Foxie’s shift and that the two could just stay the night—it’d be fun. Dinner and a sleepover seemed to placate Fox’s apprehension at leaving, at least a little. “Stop looking at me like that,” Octavia scoffed, rolling her eyes as she ushered her best friend towards the door. “The kids and I’ll play all day, really–-I have a presentation to finish for class, and besides I’m fine.” Before Fox could protest anymore, O gave her a smile and a wave before plopping herself down on the couch with Terra and Bear eagerly awaiting permission to lay with her.

By lunch time, Octavia was neck deep in articles and different news sites searching for some sort of clue as to what might be happening in her brother’s world. With no actual location and just generalization, she was left looking at horrific event after horrific event all over the world imagining Bellamy there. The news channel played in the background causing Octavia to stop and glance up every so often, especially when anything to do with their military was mentioned. Normally, she avoids the channel while the boys are away except for classes. Both of them have told her it’s not worth it but this time— she can’t stop. All she can see is her brother in one bad situation to another.

Her phone buzzing with Lincoln’s ringtone shifted her attention from her lap top to her cell phone. Hey babe, surprise, I’m coming home for the long weekend, I’ll be in around 4. For a few moments it’s bliss. She takes in a deep breath before putting the phone aside.There’s a calmness that peaks into her senses because Lincoln’s always been the calm to her chaos but he’s still two hours away.

The entire day, Octavia doesn’t move from her spot scrolling through different web pages on her lap top and phone while the television played in the background. The only thing that caused her to move finally was Bear and Terra whining about being cooped up all day. She sighed sadly, reaching forward to scratch behind both of their ears. At the attention both dogs perked up, Bear rushing towards the front door before he just stood there wagging his tail as he looked between the door and Octavia. “Alright, let’s go.” Quickly, Octavia changed into more running appropriate attire ( running might help the noise in her head ) before writing a quick note to Lincoln in case he arrived before she got back.

Babe, glad you’re home! I invited Foxie and Bear for a sleepover, sorry didn’t know you’d be back tonight—I just took the pups out but I’ll be home soon. Foxie’s done around 5 and I thought we could order in tonight.

Cant wait to see you, O

With two leashes in hand and both pups absolutely buzzed to get outside, Octavia reached for the door, just as the deadbolt unlocked and someone else turned the knob first. A smile appeared on her features as she saw Lincoln and his duffel bag coming through the front door. Terra’s tail started to go crazy but she patiently awaited Lincoln’s cue before she moved from her space at Octavia’s legs. “Hey, I thought I had more time before you got in—I really have to get the kids out, it’s been a long day inside.” She stepped forward shoving her phone into the running pouch she kept on her arm before she leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to Lincoln quickly. “I’m going to run them a bit and be back quick babe.” Before he had much of a chance to say anything, she slipped out the door with the dogs while he moved further inside.

————————————————

It was a later night for the trio but it was easier for Octavia to breathe with her best friend and boyfriend laughing around her. Though the intrusive thoughts surrounding fear and Bellamy lingered in her mood and presence the whole time. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and for the most part she allowed Fox and Lincoln to lead the conversations for the evening. They’d ordered food, watched a few movies, and talked about Lincoln’s rotation but before long, Bear was nudging Fox to move off the couch for bed.

Sounds of Terra’s snoring mixed with the fan running in their bedroom as Octavia laid staring up at the ceiling. She’d rested against Lincoln as he drifted off to sleep expecting to follow suit soon after but despite feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing, she couldn’t relax. Couldn’t shut off the damn noise. With her eyes shut all she could see was the articles. The horrors repeating on a dreadful loop because she’s spent all day obsessing.

Her cell phone said 3:17 as she slipped out of bed and made her way into the living room. She hated tossing and turning next to Lincoln. Would prefer to not wake him with her worries. Her body sunk into the couch as she pulled the small blanket off the back of the couch to curl up while she sifted through different apps on her phone.

Octavia pressed her fingertips against her palm, gently digging into her skin to steady the anxiety in her chest as eyes scroll through a recent news article dated two hours ago. Her brows furrowed, reading more about a shooter attack in a market that’s claimed eleven lives already with the number of injured rising. At this point her eyes are scanning, no longer reading every single detail. She’s only looking for a few certain words. Six shooters. One dead. Three apprehended. An unidentified soldier. Her jaw clenched, heart rate rising in her chest as she sat up. An unidentified soldier dead at the scene. Every nerve in her body began firing, sending her into a panic. Just like that, it’s like the walls of her home have begun to close in on her. Wanting to suffocate her. She can’t breathe.

Shaking fingers tossed her phone at the coffee table in frustration. In the dark however, she accidentally hit her metal water bottle on the table causing it to come crashing down on the floor. An unidentified soldier dead. First, she heard the clicking of Terra’s claws exiting the bedroom before a lamp clicked on in the bedroom.

It’s unlikely it’s Bellamy...but what if it is? What if it’s her brother and he’s never coming back to her? Even if it’s not him now, how long is it until it does become his fate? What if that’s the only fate all these men have? Fuck, she hates this. She hates not knowing what’s going on. She hates feeling this helpless!!! And that’s what it boils down to, there’s absolutely nothing she can do. Period.

An unidentified soldier. Suddenly it’s like she’s that petrified child barely in grade school again—being shoved to the back of Bellamy’s closet while two drunk adults raged a war with each other just out of reach of the bedrooms. Be quiet, don’t move until I open this door, Bell told her. Quickly, he was gone and she was left alone in the dark, fearing for whatever came next. It’s that same agonizing fear for his life that she experienced back then, that same panic like she was about to never see her brother again took hold over her very being. He’d come back to her then with a bloodied shirt and a swollen face…what would he look like this time? Would he come back to her?

O, what’re you doing? Hues shifted towards Lincoln briefly, head shaking as tears streamed down her cheeks. She tried to breathe, tried to focus enough to form words to answer Lincoln but nothing came out. Nothing but whimpers as she imagined her brother’s death. Imagined he was already gone. You need to calm down. “No, no, no, no, I can’t.” Her arm stretched across her stomach, holding herself tightly as he sat beside her on the couch. Her head shook as she struggled to pull a full breath into her lungs. An unidentified soldier.

Fox stepped out of the second bedroom turned office then, Bear following at her heels as she slowly made her way into the scene before her. O, tell me what’s happening—Octavia could hear his voice. Could understand he was there next to her, his hand gripping her free one but his words sounded a thousand miles away. Their camps moving—we had a skype earlier but it cut out. Fox’s words hesitated like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be sharing but continued anyways, Bellamy didn’t tell her what’s happening just that he’ll send word when he can. Fox and Lincoln’s gaze met for a moment before Octavia felt his fingers brushing bits of hair back as his hand gripped the side of her face. Octavia, O, there’s a million reasons why they’d move.

Her head continued to shake, breaths trembling as her face turned red. Both hands came to cup her face, forcing her gaze to match his. Breathe with me. “I need….I need…I need him,” She choked out between sobs. He’s okay, your brother is strong, you’re strong, O, okay, you just need to breathe. Her lip quivered but she held his gaze before leaning forward to press her forehead against his. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Finally, she took a slow deep breath in. Then another and another.

“I’m afraid, Lincoln.”

#trikrulinkon #answered memes || αím fσr thє thrσαt; slαsh dσn't stαв. mαkє ít dєєp.#myhiraeth #v. military || letters from home

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vvitcheshq · 6 years

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below the cut, you will find a complete list of all of the accepted characters! we had an incredible time reading all of the amazing applications you all sent in, and of course, we wish we could have accepted every single one of them! you are all so creative, and such talented writers, these applications really were incredible to read, and we can’t wait to see the amazing things you all bring to this group.

you may notice, beyond the cut, that there are more accepted characters than there were skeletons applied for -- some of the decisions we had to make were so difficult that, where characters were different enough to allow, we accepted a few extra characters under two new skeletons: IVY ( endurance ) and POPPY ( dreams ). If we could have done this for every skeleton with multiple apps, we would have, but our decisions were based on faceclaims, general personalities and backstory similarity, and adherence to the original skeleton to ensure that we didn’t end up with any characters too similar to one another.

for those of you who weren’t accepted there are still a few open skeletons -- ANEMONE, ELDERFLOWER, and LARKSPUR -- and we’re considering the possibility of opening up a few new skeletons once things settle down on the main and the group is properly open, so we would absolutely love to have you reapply, if you’re interested. we’ll set a second acceptance date soon, so let us know how long you’ll need to write a new application if you’re planning to reapply!

for those of you who were accepted, at the bottom of the post you’ll find a link to the accepted page, which will give you a checklist of what to do now! we can’t wait to write with you!

ASPEN -- congratulations, Kay! you have been accepted as Reina Takahashi ( Asami Zdrenka FC ). What struck me first, in reading your all, was the way the style of your prose so perfectly echoed Reina’s uncertainty and anxiety, the questions and the what-ifs. I was also so taken in by your metaphor of Reina approaching magic like a game of Minecraft, “All you’re doing is rendering an enormous amount of land— but what are you doing with it?” -- I can feel and understand the way Reina sees the world so clearly from your application, and I think she’s absolutely perfect for Aspen!

But how many times had she gone sleepless, awake at night while the rest of the coven was fast asleep as dusk turned to dawn? How many times had she spent so much time fretting that she decided to drop a decision altogether? Action was better than inaction, they say, but the what-ifs always ate away at her, until sometimes all she could do was let the idea rest.

FOXGLOVE -- congratulations, V! you have been accepted as Claudia Nguyen ( Lana Condor FC ). The decision for Foxglove was one of the hardest we made, but it came down to the specificity of detail in your app -- her ice skating, her connection to the world of witches through her friend, the way she attempts to feel content with the idea of never having magic... I just kept loving Claudia more and more as the app went on. I think she’s absolutely wonderful, and I can’t wait to write with her!

Her powers were weak, underdeveloped, hard to understand, and almost vague. Claudia heard someone whispering in the halls in her first weeks, wondering if she was a mistake, if her patron regretted their choice yet. Claudia kept her chin up, telling herself to just work harder. But she wasn’t a part of this world, she’d been raised with money and rules and snowflakes, not spells and incantations and rituals.

HEATHER -- congratulations, Emm! you have been accepted as Dera Helene Whelan ( Josefine Frida Pettersen FC ). Emm, both your apps were absolutely fantastic, and picking between the two was agony, but ultimately we felt more passion in your app for Dera, which tipped the scales her way. Dera’s family connection to the coven that raised her, her troubling and fascinating relationship with her patron, and the way her loss informs her coldness to the world were absolutely incredible and we can’t wait to see where you take Dera in the group!

Knowing this made the grieving process easier for Dera - she was comforted in knowing that her mother and father could be visited in a summer breeze, the crash of waves, the rustling of leaves. Yet, she still felt like a large part of her was tangled up in a locked treasure chest somewhere, an emptiness that she learned to fill with a growing thirst for knowledge, for protection, for distance. She didn’t want to feel anymore, at least not in the way that she was now so used to feeling.

HOLLYHOCK -- congratulations, Shannon! you have been accepted as Felix Dumont ( Chance Perdomo FC ). Maybe I’m biased because Hollyhock was my favorite of the skeletons, but I am absolutely head over heels in love with Felix. Their reluctant acceptances of a patron who was so much different from what they expected, and their subsequent whole-hearted acceptance of her and of fortune magic is so incredible, and I absolutely love Zoraida as well. I can’t wait to see Felix butting heads with some of the other witches we have in play, and I can’t wait to see what you do with them!

Like other witches Felix hadn’t thought much of the ancient discipline, that was until they saw the true power that lay within its workings. Magic had given Felix something they’d never had before- a future, a way to gain control of the life that was finally becoming their own. Now with the magic of foretelling the future in their hands, they are determined to use it to their full advantage, and to help carve out a new age for the discipline that has become so wholly their own.

HYACINTH-- congratulations, Kal! you have been accepted as Aria Hadley ( Stella Maeve FC ). This app... Kal, I am shook. You apologized for length in your bio but there was absolutely no need, because by the end you absolutely still had me wanting more. When I thought about possibilities for Hyacinth’s mistake, I summoned a demon by accident and got my best friend killed was not what I had anticipated and yet, it was the exact right thing to pick. It’s so clear from your decisions that you’re really engaged with the worldbuilding work that we have done as admins, and I can’t wait to see that translate to your threads in the group! I also loved Aria’s family background so much, and I’m fascinated to see where her plots go and how she’ll relate to some of the other characters!

Magic ruins people. The words rang in her head as the investigation continued, everyone in the school eyeing her suspiciously and wanting her to leave. When she closed her eyes, she swore she saw glimpses of the attack and she could hear her friend’s screams, but they were blurs, nothing substantial and definitely not enough to put together what happened that night. After a while, she thought it best that she couldn’t remember.

HYSSOP -- congratulations, Emily! you have been accepted as Abigail Sparrow ( Jessica Henwick FC ). Every single word of your bio for Abigail was stunning, it literally brought me to tears. Abigail’s loss is so haunting, and her determination to replace her sister is so heartbreaking... it left me absolutely speechless. I loved her unexpected choice in discipline, the way she envies the chaos students and wants so desperately to fill the hole inside of her. And her patron is so fabulous, too! I can’t wait to see who she becomes in the absence of her sister’s ghost, and what might happen if she sees her again!

One night, in half-delirium, she turned to you with a vacant smile. Will the spirits be kind to me when I go? You didn’t tell her you gave up on them. You didn’t tell her that their haunting had begun to haunt you, that you couldn’t bear to watch her become one of them. Instead, you lied. A small sin for a greater comfort. Yes. You whispered, tears spilling down your cheek.

You fiddled with the dates on the calendar, persuaded Gabrielle you were fourteen a day early. You just wanted one more birthday together.

IVY-- congratulations, Yara! you have been accepted as River Quinn ( Emma Dumont/Ezra Miller FC ). Yara, we loved your application so much we just couldn’t possibly reject it. River is the entire reason we decided to add more skeletons, she’s just that good. I found myself aching for his as I read his backstory, and on top of that, you know I adore both the idea of using two fcs to play a genderfluid character and both of the fantastic fcs you chose. I can’t wait to see her humor in play, as well as her vindictiveness -- and, of course, as is clear from the new skeleton we chose to represent him -- the endurance that has gotten him through this much in life and will take him so much farther!

river quinn was born again at 15 years old. life as an uphill battle, temptation in the desert. they struggle and they grow into something more, they learn how to hide. be seen, not heard, be admirable and lovely and easy to ignore. they were raised with love, but they were raised to be something cruel as well, and they win their approval in any way they can. but every manipulative golden god falls in the end, don’t they? it isn’t river’s parents who decide enough is enough with their new messiah, but river knows the decision is made because soft hearted people can only watch children go through so much.

LAVENDER -- congratulations, Roz! you have been accepted as Nico di Salvatore ( Luke Pasqualino FC ). Nico was the first app we received, and we’ve been longing to accept him every single day since. He’s stunning, I love the way you really wrapped him up in his obsession with magic so fully, from the way he treats his own body -- wanting to escape it when it limits him -- to the way he relies on it for everything. I love his fasciation with technical magic, his big goals in terms of the kinds of magic he wants to do, and I love, love, love his “familiar” Sparrow and his fantastic patron. I’m so excited to see where he goes!

Between his major and minor, Nico didn’t pay enough attention to the traditional routes of summoning a familiar to properly conjure one. He has, however, cobbled together what he calls a sort of familiar: a computer program, binary and magic folded together, housed in the casing of a little mechanical bird. Sparrow, as he named it, acts as his eyes (and ears, if he wants to eavesdrop on juicy gossip). And though she might not be a true spirit familiar, capable of real intelligence, Nico is nonetheless as attached to her as other witches are to their proper familiars.

LOBELIA -- congratulations, Em! you have been accepted as Theodora Summerfield ( Anya Taylor-Joy FC ). Firstly, I am in awe of the beauty of your writing. Every part of your bio ( a five act play through which a girl is written & a witch is made) was absolutely stunning. And on top of that, Theodora is thoroughly fascinating -- her decision to run away from the family that couldn’t stop hurting her, and the feeling of violation and despair at understanding what social magic is and what Violet has done, the way she decides on protection magic to keep her safe from all the ways she’s been hurt and manipulated throughout her life... I love the way her cruelty is born out of pain and fear and the need to protect herself. I can’t wait to see how she grows and changes in the group!

She finds you, again and again as fall fades into winter and winter snaps cold, offers you little pieces of help that you know better than to decline. You don’t understand why you trust her, really you don’t, but you can’t shake the feeling. It’s like magic, the way she’s wormed her way where you’ve allowed no one and it sets you on edge.

MARIGOLD -- congratulations, Zack! you have been accepted as Lucien Yates ( Keith Powers FC ). We’re so glad you got the time to finish your application, because Lucien is so wonderful. His closeness with his coven, his found family, and the way that closeness and their care for him makes his loss so much worse was so heartbreaking, and the way he was so light and so steadfast before it happened makes it even worse. That being said, I know you want to explore his darkness, and I can’t wait to see what you do with it and how loss and grief are going to shape him, and I know that my co-admin is so excited for your wanted plot with Dahlia as well!

Her death was a wave of a darkness that engulfed your light, causing every inch of you to be drained of what made you special. A drought choked at your senses for months afterwards, your spells became erratic, your grades slipped, while your tongue sharpened with new words that were painted with anger. Your father lied about the greatest witches pulling from pain, as if grief was a conductor of power. Perhaps your sorrow was suppose to add grace to your magic, twisting pain that forced tears from your eyes ever night were fuel to a greater strength. Bullshit! Since if that was true, there should be a hurricane revolting in your bones, a maelstrom of power, however you are a drizzle of a boy.

NARCISSUS -- congratulations, Charlie! you have been accepted as Leila Katerina Alvarez-Finch ( Melissa Barrera FC ). We were so glad to see that Leila was your first choice, because she was absolutely ours! I love the fire you’ve captured within them, but also their connection to the human world, and the difficult decision they made in choosing one over the other, in sacrificing what they’d worked so hard for to pick Aradia instead. I think she’s absolutely lovely, and with all the characters in the group who have experienced loss of a loved one, and who have dabbled with necromancy, I can’t wait to see what you make of their necromancer patron!

She had been alone when time had seemed to stop, the chatter around her dying down into a quiet murmur. Everything thing had seemed to slow down to nothing…except for the man who had sat down beside her at the pool. His feet didn’t cause even a ripple when they entered the water. The liquid growing cold around her own feet as a icy breeze radiated from the man.

“I like you.” He had said, sparking an eye roll from Laila even as she sat confused at everything happening around her. “Your confidence.” He continued, “I must be brief. We don’t have a great deal of time.”

POPPY -- congratulations, Nat! you have been accepted as Luna Vaughn ( Courtney Eaton FC ). Nat, we loved both of your applications, but ultimately Luna was the one we loved enough to create a new skeleton for her. You took her insecurity from Foxglove’s skeleton in such a different way that she really seemed to work as a new skeleton -- and we took her experiences with spirits and her longing to find her birth mother again as inspiration in creating this one. I loved the way that forgiveness was such a major part of her personality, with how many times she’s been left behind ( you forgive and forget and start all over again ), and I love the way you used spells to frame your plots for her. I can’t wait to see them in action!

Your thirst for more has become quite dangerous. The dead beings by your side scream out warnings but they fall on deaf ears now, you think you’ve gathered enough strength within the academy walls to practice the forbidden. Oh, you are sorely mistaken; way in over your head as you gather spells and herbs, you know this is not allowed, it is one of the rules they warned you about since starting school but you’re tired, aren’t you? Tired of feeling empty inside and having no one around for support. You want to see the one person that showered you with love, she’s long gone — buried and dead, how can you even dare to try such a thing? You, out of all people, should know that the dead should stay dead.

VALERIAN -- congratulations, Meg! you have been accepted as Aurelia Ashcroft ( Brittany O’Grady FC ). Oh my gosh! We were on the edge of our seats waiting for someone to apply for Valerian, so we were so glad that you sent in an app. Your app was simply lovely! I think the spirit of Valerian was really there, and how they’re always ready to leap into action. I’m so excited to see how the character grows and what direction you take her in!

She had no hesitation upon cutting ties with the mortal world, her family at all. All she’d known with them was secrecy and a normalcy that she had never quite been able to stomach or adapt to. Aradia was a place for her to feel free and she doesn’t know what the future holds but she is ready to become. There’s this little voice in her mind constantly telling her to be alert, to be open to anything.

CLICK THROUGH TO THE ACCEPTED PAGE. Please submit your character blog within 24 hours, or message the main if you need more time. CONGRATULATIONS, AND WELCOME TO ARADIA!

#accepted

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katie-lyn · 7 years

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Infected - Chapter 1

Summary: Dan and Phil have been best friends for their entire lives, but now as teens, how will they survive when the dead begin to rise and the world falls into madness? How will they live in this brave new world? Will they be able to do what is absolutely necessary to survive and face the consequences of this harsh reality?

Warnings: mild violence

PG-13

Word count: 1,632

Note: The Walking Dead takes place in a world where zombie media never existed, hence why they call them walkers among other things instead. I am going to take that page from their book because I think it is a good choice story-telling wise. Title also based on an episode title from TWD.

Note 2: This is my first fic on this blog. My first fic in a long time. I’m excited and nervous and I hope people enjoy this! Please, please give me feedback and let me know what you think!

Also, I had this whole thing typed on my phone then tried to post it and my tumblr app crashed so yay I rewrote the whole thing on my laptop and hopefully this posts. It was probably a little better the first time, but whatever. I’m still happy with this. First chapter below the cut!

Phil is a seventeen year old boy. He has a fairly normal life. He goes to school. He has friends. He’s pretty deep in the closet. He’s in love with his best friend Daniel, whom he’s grown up with since they were tots. Okay, perhaps his life has had a few small hiccups or inconveniences, but all of his problems were peanuts compared to what he woke up to today. He walks downstairs and hears the news channel on in the living room. There seems to be mass panic happening. He walks into the room and finds his parents full attention on the horrific scene on the television. The dead were rising. It was beginning not all that far away from where they were. Currently, they were being told the CDC was working on something and to just remain safely in their homes until further notice. Phil’ s mind went straight to ‘this has to be some kind of joke. April fools? No, it’s September. Well, there has to be some logical explanation’. But he saw it with his own eyes. The shot of the dead in the street. The footage of one of them attacking a woman and several of them ganging up on her, biting at her, her falling to the ground afterwards, and them continuing to tear her apart, pulling her apart, inside out, quite literally. He’s never seen anything so graphic and disturbing. Phil is a horror movie fan. This was not faked. There was nothing like this and he knew what special effects looked like, this was not it. This was real. It was on every channel, probably across the world. It was estimated to be a worldwide epidemic in only a few short weeks if a solution wasn’t found very swiftly. The military was going to take action very soon if need be. This was real. He was not dreaming. He checked by pinching himself very hard.

Naturally, the first thing Philip does is exactly what the professionals are telling everyone not to do. He goes outside. They aren’t sure how this has started, if it’s airborne, some sort of disease, contagious, etc.. Plus, the dead could be anywhere. They were confirmed in certain places, but of course they could be anywhere and maybe just not reported there yet. However, Phil makes a direct beeline to Dan’s house. Dan lives just right next door. Phil just goes straight in since he knows he is always welcome there. “Oh, dear, have you heard the news?” Dan’s mother asks him as she looks over when she hears him enter. “Yeah, I have. Is Dan still in bed?” Phil asks the woman who is truly like a second mother to him. “Yes, he is,” she replies before turning her attention back to the news, wanting all the available details. Phil rushes up to Dan’s room. He doesn’t know why he’s relieved to see that Dan is okay. As if he already would’ve been outside long enough to have been bit. Yeah, right. He’s still asleep, of course. Dan always sleeps in. Phil lays down beside him in bed. After only a few minutes, Dan begins to open his eyes, already unconsciously shifting closer to Phil for warmth and cuddles. “Morning… When did you get here?” Dan mumbles sleepily. “Only a few minutes ago,” Phil whispers. “The world has truly gone insane. You’ll never believe what’s actually happening right now,” Phil murmurs. “I dunno, Phil. Trump is president in America. Lemme guess; nuclear war that we are now a part of?” He glances up at Phil, truly half expecting to be correct. “That’s a valid guess,” Phil admits. “But no. Literally, you will never guess.” Phil takes out his phone and just shows Dan the captured footage of the woman being attacked that has been all over the news from the YouTube app on his phone. Dan’s jaw drops. There is no denying the reality of that clip. The bloodcurdling scream of the woman, the way they scratch and bite her, the way they tear her open and apart alive, until she isn’t. There’s no faking that. Phil slips his phone back into his pocket once the clip ends. “They’re telling us all to stay indoors until, like, they figure out a way to deal with them. But it’s spreading quickly and the military could possibly be getting involved if it comes to it.” He doesn’t even really realize it, but he holds Dan closer as he explains. He’s just always had this compulsion to take care of the younger boy. Dan was two years younger than him and they’ve been inseparable since Dan’ s birth, basically. Their parents are very good friends, and they are next door neighbors. They’re closer than could be. “Holy shit,” Dan mumbles, instinctively nuzzling closer to Phil. “Wait- Does this mean that school is canceled?” Dan asks, glancing up at Phil, small smirk playing at his lips. “It actually does!“ Phil tells him. “Yes!” Dan laughs. It wasn’t real yet. It hasn’t truly hit. It hasn’t affected them directly yet. It was just a few small occurrences happening elsewhere. They could still laugh and have fun for now. But the threat was growing and spreading and getting closer to everyone, everywhere. It had only just begun.

Fast forward two weeks and things have truly gotten bad. Shit has officially hit the fan. There is no cure. There are more walking dead people than the military know how to deal with. People are dropping by the dozens. It is no longer safe anywhere. People are locking themselves indoors, boarding up their windows, barricading their doors. People who haven’t stocked up on months worth of food in the last weeks are surely about to regret it because good luck getting to the store now. No one will probably even still be working at the store now, you’d just have to loot it. Phil hasn’t been outside in a while now, but he knows the outside world is insane these days from the news that still runs on television and the radio. Phil and his parents have all moved themselves into the Howell’s home. It’s bigger, so they have more space to spread themselves out. The Lester’s have brought all their food and resources over as well. Everyone is now very, very afraid. Dan and Phil still feel quite secure, though. They have a good thing going here. They had stocked up on food, so they have plenty still. They feel they’ve protected the house quite well, did a good job boarding it up. The only concern was: how long would this go on? What if it went past when they do run out of food? What if one somehow breaks in through a boarded up window? No one is really sure how to kill these things, or how to protect themselves against them yet, so would they all just die if one got in? What would they do? All Phil knows is that he will die before he lets anything hurt Dan. Soft, sweet Dan. He would 100% protect him with his life. If something wants to get to Dan, it will have to go through him first.

Dan did not take any of this seriously at first. But now that his house has essentially become a bunker, well- there’s only so much denial you can have. He’s now been with his own parents and the Lester’s all cooped up in his home that is all Fort Knox-ed out for a full eight days now. On the bright side, he would never complain about spending so much time with Phil. They have always been closer than platonic teenage boys typically are. They cuddle, sleep in the same bed when they spend the night together, even the odd kiss to the cheek or forehead sometimes. It probably has a lot to do with how they’ve been close since they were in diapers, but also they were just madly in love and the only ones who couldn’t see it were each other. This is a very scary situation, but Dan feels safe and secure where he is. Their home feels safe right now, Phil is always beside him which always brings a feeling of security, and all four parents are here. They both truly feel as if they have two mothers and two fathers. They both grew up with each others parents so much that they even call the others parents mom and dad. The parents all feel the same about both boys, caring about the other as much as if he were their own. They’re all one, big, loving family. Dan is very worried, though. He’s always had some severe anxiety. What are they going to do when the food is gone? What will they realistically do if one of those things gets in through a window or something? It is actually quite likely that it will happen. Whenever they make a loud sound, they can hear the dead banging on the glass of the windows, It already sounded like the glass was beginning to crack the other day. Sometimes it sounds like there’s only one out there, sometimes it sounds like more, sometimes it seems like all is fine outside their home. But how long will it take for a large enough group of them to gather around and cave in a part of their sanctuary? How long do they have here? Phil seems to sense Dan’s nerves because he holds the boy closer to his chest. “It’s going to be okay, Danny, okay?” He whispers and presses a small kiss to the top of his best friends head. Dan nods very faintly and nuzzles close, taking solace in his friends calming words and aura. They were safe for now.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #my writing #infected #infected chapter one #apocalyslpse au #childhood friends #friends to lovers #this fic is going to be my baby now for quite a while #I'm ready

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cooperjones2020 · 7 years

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Second City, chp. 10

Summary: Sometimes she worries she’s settling — for a smaller job, a smaller city, a smaller life than she’d promised herself — but that was before she found out Jughead Jones lives in Chicago. That was before she found out the final secret of Jason Blossom’s murder.

A/N: Fletcher Foley is a real Archie comics character, but I haven’t read any of the issues he’s in.

A/N 2: Apparently I forgot to post this a few days ago when the chapter went up on Ao3, so for those of you who only read here, here you go :)

ao3–>http://archiveofourown.org/works/11409360/chapters/26328312

All previous chapters of Second City and Nobodies Nobody Knows under the tag #second-city and on the Who Sings Heartache to Sleep series page on Ao3.

10. In which a change of scenery takes place

She steps out of Jughead’s apartment and into an uber. Well, not immediately. She can’t telepathically summon ride-hailing services. Though she’s sure someone in Silicon Valley is working on that very problem in this exact moment. A hysterical laugh gets caught in her throat at the thought.

She’s worried Jughead will come after her, so she zigzags a couple of blocks until she’s on the far side of the square. In between a coffee shop and a wine bar, she finds a large hedge to stand beside, and then she summons the car. Thankfully, his neighbourhood is still busy on a Sunday afternoon, and there are many small black icons zooming around when she opens the app. The wait is less than two minutes.

Kevin, she knows, is at work, some special project keeping him up at all hours and in the office, even on weekends. Polly doesn’t pick up. It’s her day off, so Betty assumes her sister and her sister’s boyfriend are enjoying their last few days of kid-free time. And, while she’s so glad she and Veronica are reconnecting again, she doesn’t think they’re quite at the point for this. Even if they were, she also doesn’t think she’s quite ready for Ronnie’s particular blend of supportively brutal honesty. Archie is an option she doesn’t even consider.

So, she goes to the only person who knew her then.

She manages to recapture and hold onto her anger all through the car ride. It feels righteous, powerful, and, unfortunately, all too short. Because once she steps into Mary’s house, she bursts into tears. Something deep inside her, long forced closed and held together with glue, staples, tape, cracks open and grief stampedes through her. She’s vaguely aware of Mary pulling her to the couch, wrapping her arms around her, and rocking her. Mary rubs circles on Betty’s back and makes calm shushing noises. She speaks only enough to ascertain that no one’s been injured or died, then she just lets Betty unload until she’s empty.

She cries for an embarrassingly long time, in violent sobs that wrack her body and cause a headache to bloom behind her eyes.

At some point, she comes to and slides from the couch to the floor. It’s still light out, though it is the middle of summer, so all that really tells her is it’s before 9 pm. Her throat is dry and lips parched. There’s a water bottle on the coffee table in front of her. She grabs it and drinks half in a series of gulps. Mike must have brought it out for her. She hasn’t noticed him in the haze of her heartache, but he must be around somewhere.

Betty settles back against Mary’s legs and lets her stroke her hair, allowing herself to be comforted by the maternal gesture.

“He lied to me.” She doesn’t know if she’s talking about Jughead or her father, but, in the end, she supposes, it doesn’t really matter.

Once she gets to her gate, Betty tries to take up as much space as she possibly can without feeling guilty about it. She picks a seat at the end of a row and sets her purse next to her, her sweater in the seat next to that. Her suitcase she slides so it’s partially in front of a fourth seat. She creates a forcefield of belongings so no one can approach her.

Yesterday had scooped her out and left her numb, depleted. But the one good thing about a multi-hour crying jag is its cleansing power. Sitting at the gate, she feels a renewed sense of purpose.

As soon as it’s crossed nine o’clock, she calls Cynthia.

“Betty, why are you calling me? Why don’t you just come down the hall? We can start our Monday meeting a little early.”

“I’m not in the office, Cynth. I had a bit of a personal emergency. I’m actually at O’Hare waiting for a flight back to Riverdale.” In all her years of grown-up-hood, Betty’s never done something like this. When her father died, they’d known it was coming, so she’d made arrangements to work from home and had trained the person who’d filled in for her on the things she couldn’t do remotely. Anxiety bubbles in her stomach at the thought of disappointing Cynthia.

“Oh no, is everything okay? Your family?”

“No, they’re fine. It’s more a me thing. But I’m so sorry to just leave like this. I know I don’t have vacation time or anything yet, but I was thinking I could use some sick days? Though I don’t know how long I’ll be gone—no more than a week surely. But I can also just take it as unpaid time, I know I’m leaving you in the lurch. And I have a piece half-finished—”

“Betty, stop. We’ll survive. We were gonna run your FP Jones interview this week anyway before his pre-publication publicity circuit starts next month.”

“Oh right.”

The flare of anger she has at the memory of her and Jughead in the bar in May, the moment she first started letting him back in, gives her the courage to get to the thing she’s been thinking about since she cried herself to sleep, then woke up at midnight on Mary’s couch and bought the plane ticket.

“Look, about that. The personal thing. I have a piece to pitch you. I think we should extend the Jones series to three articles. I’ll still review the new book. But I wanna write about—about Betsy Coleman. About being her. About what really happened, all the stuff Jughead omitted from the story. I want to write about it.”

But Cynthia knows her. Knows how deeply uncomfortable she’d been at the prospect of being publicly connected to the character.

“Oh honey, no. Why don’t we just talk about that when you get back?”

She lets Cynthia talk to her down, but she makes notes on the story anyway, while drinking the largest Starbucks green tea frappucino she thinks she can get away with without totally wrecking her blood sugar. She doesn’t mind that Jughead had written about her, about their life. She’d always known he would, had believed it in all the years between their break-up and The Final Fissure’s publication. She couldn’t begrudge him the one thing that she knows has always kept him sane, the thing that he does so beautifully it would be a crime to keep it from the rest of the world. She can’t begrudge the world for wanting to share in that. But, now, she’s pissed that he made her the heroine. She’s pissed that he put her on a pedestal, even while her own family was just as dirty as the Blossoms, the Kellers, the McCoys. In the Civil War between the North and the South of Riverdale, it was the Montagues that were blameless. Her own Capulets commanded every gun, every sword, every gavel.

She does wind up talking to Veronica, huddled against a charging station, and Ronnie makes her laugh through the tears that occasionally threaten.

Betty is jealous of Veronica (what else is new?). She is jealous of how sure and easy things are between her and Archie. And god she’s jealous of the sex she knows they must be having.

“It’s like the universe was saying here’s what you get, Elizabeth. You finally get to have a really great lay and then it all comes crashing down around your ears,” she whisper-yells, all too aware of the businessman in the row behind her. She hates being on FaceTime in public. Headphones make it marginally better, but not enough dispel her anxieties over being heard.

“Betty, that’s not how it works and you know it. You and Jughead, it sounds like you were a ticking time bomb anyway. Both physically and emotionally.”

“Bomb is exactly the right word. Only there’s a hell of a lot more shrapnel than I predicted.”

“Are you sure you should be leaving right now? I’m sure Jughead’s worried about you if you just ran out on him. And your mother—look, I may have only known her a short while but Alice Cooper makes an impression. Don’t you want to be calm when you see her?”

“I need to know, Ron. And she’s out of town right now, so I’ll have some time to figure out what I want to say. To look for, I don’t know, something.”

“Do you want to talk to Archie? I can wake him up.”

“No, I’m not ready yet.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t know.” She feels her nostrils flare.

“How could he not know?” She doesn’t know what would be worse — if Archie had lied to her or if Jughead had lied to Archie. Even through her own pain, she’d noticed how deeply Archie had felt Jughead’s loss. She’d been so pleased when she’d heard they’d reconnected. She didn’t want to come between them. Even at the time, she’d felt guilty for being with Archie. And sometimes, she’s pretty sure he felt the same. But they’d needed each other then, to hold each other up when the foundation had crumbled beneath them.

No, she knows what would be worse. As much as she hates having Robin Scherbatsky-ed them, the thought of her lifelong best friend, the only person who’d always been there for her, who’d always been honest with her, even when it would have hurt her less to lie, the thought of him keeping something like this from her—Well, it’s almost as bad as Jughead keeping it from her.

As she readies to board the plane, she finally pulls up their text message thread. He called her eight times yesterday, before finally giving up around 11 pm. He also sent her twenty-two texts, none of which she’d read. When she’d awoken at midnight on Mary’s couch, she’d opened the apps to get rid of the notifications, then pulled up the internet to book her flight. She hands her boarding pass to the gate attendant to scan, then shuffles along the jet bridge and scrolls through them.

“betty come back”

“you can’t just wander around a neighborhood you don’t know”

“i have more to tell you”

“i really want to talk to you”

“please answer me”

“you forgot your food. and your bra”

“hello”

“i will keep texting and calling you until you answer me”

“i just want to make sure you’re safe”

“please betts”

“i didn’t want to make it worse”

“i should have told you a long time ago”

“but in my defense it was pretty clear you’d moved on”

“shit ignore that last one”

“betty”

“betty come on”

“answer your phone damn it”

“i’m sorry”

“just tell me you’re okay. please.”

“nvm, heard from mary”

“i’m here when you’re ready to talk.”

There’s one more text, from 5 o’clock that morning: “just please be ready to talk sometime”. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

Now, she responds: “can you send me copies of the security photos you have?”

He calls her when she’s still getting settled in her seat, and his voice is a familiar cocktail of anger, panic, and pain. “Betty, where are you?” Before she can answer, the flight attendant’s voice comes over the intercom. “Are you on a plane?”

“Yes.” She doesn’t mean to be short, but it’s hard to know what to say, what she can say in this moment.

“Where are you going?”

She debates not telling him, but knows he’d figure it out anyway. “Home. I need to talk to my mother and I need to do it in person. She’s not as good at lying to me face to face.”

He lets out a ragged sigh she can hear, even over the sounds of the engine warming up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to screw up—”

But she cuts him off, “I’m not. Jughead, whatever else I’m feeling, and who even knows what that is right now, I’m glad I know.”

“Why did you walk out?”

“Not right now, okay? Can we just focus on the Jason Blossom murder mystery plot?” There’s so much still for them to say, but she almost understands why he’d asked her that yesterday.

He’s silent a moment, then he says, “Are you okay?”

“No.” She lets out of shaky laugh. “Fuck no, definitely not. But I will be, once I get some answers.” But then the flight attendant comes by and signals that it’s time to switch to airplane mode. “I have to go, Jug. I’ll—I’ll call you, I guess. Later.”

“Okay.”

She hangs up without saying goodbye.

She can’t get comfortable during the flight. The ache between her thighs and across her shoulder blades reminds her how long it’s been since she’s been with a man. It also reminds her of the cost. She wonders if there’s a metaphor in there somewhere, but the thought is too tiring. So, she stares out the window as the lake gives way to the fields and forests of Michigan, Ontario, and, eventually, to New York.

Betty walks out of the airport, and, for the second time in two days, dissolves into a puddle of tears, this time in her sister’s arms.

“Hey, hey, little sis—what’s wrong?” Polly’s perfected her mom voice over the years, and for a moment Betty lets it lull her into a false sense of security. Then she freezes as realizes she cannot tell Polly any of what she suspects. Not until she’s sure. “No-nothing. It’s just been a hard week and I didn’t realize how much I missed you.”

Polly pulls back from her, hands still on her shoulders. “Do we maybe need to stop for some ice cream and Midol on the way home?”

Betty manages to pull a laugh out of somewhere deep inside, her spleen maybe, and says, “I hadn’t even thought of that, but sure.”

“One pint of Tonight Dough coming up! Mom only has that no sugar added frozen yogurt at her house, and, believe me, you don’t want to eat it unless you have to.”

She lets her sister console her with the promise of frozen dairy products and pain relievers she doesn’t need as they bundle her suitcase into the car and pull away from the airport.

“I’m sorry I won’t be here for your visit, Betty. And mom won’t be back from her conference for a couple of days, so you’ll have the house to yourself.”

“That’s okay. I’m the one who didn’t give you any warning I was coming. Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Are you kidding? A whole hour of you to myself and I don’t have to answer Cheryl’s incessant texts about SPF and not wearing mom shoes and yes I’m sure we don’t need fast passes and Disney World and Universal are plenty, we definitely don’t need to go to SeaWorld too.” Betty rolls her eyes. Cheryl is some Frankenstein’s monster of sort-of-cousin and sort-of-sister-in-law and completely overbearing, but Betty couldn’t imagine her life without her. She just wishes Cheryl would stop trying to buy the twins’ love. One, it’s unnecessary, they adore her. And two, sometimes it makes Betty feel a little bad that she can’t do the same, no matter how much Polly hates when Cheryl goes over the top.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, just for tonight? I can have Fletcher push back our reservation.”

“No you should go. Don’t let me derail your plans. Besides, I had to be at the airport so early, I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

Polly rolls her eyes but keeps them on the road. “Of course not. You could have gotten a later flight, you know. Like two weeks later.”

“I know, it was sort of an impulsive decision.”

“Betty Cooper doesn’t do impulsive.”

“Maybe now she does.”

Polly glances over at her. “You look happier.” It’s surprising thing to say, considering the tears that had met their reunion.

“Pol, I just busted out the waterworks when all you did was hug me.”

“Stop it. I mean, you seem brighter. Like you’re taking better care of yourself. You’re smiley-er.”

“You spend too much time talking to twelve year olds. But yeah, I think…I think overall I am. I mean, it’s been hard, being so much farther away from all of you and basically starting over. But I like my life so far.”

“I’m so happy for you even though I miss you so much. Maybe once we all get to Orlando, I can have the twins FaceTime with you.”

“That’d be great. We all? Who else is going on this adventure again? Besides Cheryl.”

“Me, the kids, Fletcher, Cheryl’s girlfriend. Cheryl’s picking them up and we’re all meeting up at the airport Wednesday, so Fletcher and I are going to spend tonight and tomorrow in Saratoga Springs, a little mini-vacation before the crazy.”

Betty turns her sister’s statement around. “You’re happy?”

Polly’s smile is so big that Betty thinks it must hurt. She grabs Betty’s hand where it rests on the console and squeezes it.

“Yeah, I’m happy.”

Betty’s heart clenches.

For the rest of the ride, Polly chatters happily about their vacation plans. As much as Betty had enjoyed Harry Potter world, the prospect of that many consecutive days in the full buffet of Orlando’s theme parks, packed into crowds like sardines, and in August no less—she thinks it sounds like her own personalized version of hell.

But most of all, she thinks, she’s glad her sister won’t be here to see what’s coming. That she’ll have time to think of how to tell her.

#bughead fanfiction #riverdale fanfiction #betty x jughead #bughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #riverdale #mine #second city

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