#c:mara

[ancgnorisis]

STARTER FOR @thegildedwhispers

Mara stares at her own ceiling like it personally offended her. She’s restless — that kind of restless that has nothing to do with boredom and everything to do with a certain ex who won’t get out of her head. Three days. It’s been three days since the bar bathroom disaster. And for three days, she’s been replaying it like a movie she swears she hates but can’t stop watching. It’s 4 A.M. Perfect hour for bad decisions. She unlocks her phone, thumbs hovering, cursing herself even before she types a single word. Then:

[ 04:38 TXT > LAURA ] you awake?

She sends it before she can think better of it. Immediately regrets it. Immediately checks if it delivered. Her phone stays quiet. Too quiet. “God, I’m pathetic,” Mara mutters, tossing her hair back and sinking deeper into her pillows. Twenty seconds pass. No reply. Fine. Okay. She can play it cool.

[ 04:39 TXT > LAURA ] i can’t sleep. and it’s partially ur fault so u should feel bad.

She rereads it. Looks unhinged. Sends it anyway. Still nothing. The silence is infuriating — worse, it’s familiar. This is exactly how Laura reels her in: the hunger, the tension, the waiting. Mara exhales sharply, then types again with significantly less shame:

[ 04:40 TXT > LAURA ] …also i keep thinking about that thing you said you’d do to me if we weren’t in a bar bathroom.

She hits send and immediately buries her face in her pillow. She’s doomed.

[ancgnorisis]

STARTER FOR @eraxfthewxrst

The low lights of the bar smear everything into gold and shadow, the kind of warmth that makes strangers look softer and regrets hit harder. Mara is halfway through her drink — something citrusy she didn’t bother to learn the name of — when a familiar silhouette crosses the doorway. She doesn’t need to see the face to know. Mara freezes. Not visibly — she’s trained herself better than that — but inside, every muscle tightens, like a bowstring pulled back. Of course she’s here. Of course. New York’s big enough to avoid someone you’re done with. But not big enough to avoid someone you’re not over.

Mara isn’t even supposed to be looking in Laura’s direction. She’s supposed to be drinking her overpriced cocktail, pretending not to care, pretending she’s moved on, pretending she’s immune. Laura is at a small table with her date. The woman is cute in a clean, polished way, someone who probably journals and does meal prepping and meditates at sunrise.Someone who is not Mara.

Mara’s chest tightens. She looks away, forces a swallow of her drink, but when she glances back again, Laura is standing. Excusing herself. Heading toward the bar. Alone. That’s all it takes. Before Mara can talk herself out of it, she slides off her barstool and moves — letting her body reach the decision faster than her brain can scream don’t. She catches Laura just as she reaches the counter. “Your taste in women hasn’t changed,” Mara says lightly, leaning an elbow on the bar next to her. “Still going for the type who looks like she sends work emails with emojis.”

[ancgnorisis]

voicemail

(for Nico maybe?)

Beep.

''Hi, Nico. It's Mara. Obviously. You knew that. If you didn't, this would be a very strange voicemail for a stranger.'' A small hiccuped laugh.

''I know it's late. And I know I'm probably… not supposed to be calling you like this.'' She hums thoughtfully. ''But I had wine. And then I had more wine. And now I'm thinking about you, which feels… related.'' She exhales, amused with herself. ''I was trying to be a mature adult and not call you. Truly. I even gave myself a little pep talk like, 'Mara, be cool. Be mysterious.' Anyway, that lasted about eight minutes.'' Another laugh, softer.

''I keep thinking about Friday. Which is rude of my brain, because my brain should be thinking about literally anything else. Like… taxes. Or climate change. But no. It's you. Specifically your hands. And that thing you do where you get all quiet and intense like you're about to overthink yourself into a corner.'' She lowers her voice conspiratorially. ''And listen, I'm not saying I’m mad you acted like nothing happened. I'm just saying if this were a rom-com, my friends would currently be yelling at the screen.''

There is a small pause. ''So. This is me being fun and casual and not at all spiraling and just letting you know that I'm thinking about you. Still. In a very flattering way.'' Then, playful again: ''And if this is an HR violation, you can fire me later. Preferably over coffee.''

She laughs again, warm and flirty. ''Okay. That's it. Goodnight, Nico. Sweet dreams. Don't overthink this. I already did it for both of us.''

Beep.

[ancgnorisis]

💏

:)

25 .... as a 'yes'

Mara didn’t say yes out loud.

She never did, not when words felt too fragile, too easy to take back. Eddie stood close enough that she could feel the heat of him, the pause hanging between them like a held breath. He’d asked—quietly, carefully—giving her space to walk away if she wanted to.

She didn’t.

Instead, she stepped into him.

Her hand found the front of his jacket, fingers curling there as if testing something solid and real. She looked up at him once, just long enough to see the question still in his eyes, the patience. That was the thing that undid her. Not the want—but the restraint.

Mara rose onto her toes and kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was deliberate, steady, the kind of kiss that carried weight because it chose to exist. Her mouth moved against his with quiet certainty, soft but sure, answering the question he hadn’t asked twice.

Yes, then. Yes, like this.

She felt him exhale against her lips, the tension easing, his hands settling at her waist only after the meaning was clear. When she pulled back, just slightly, her forehead rested against his.

“That’s my answer,” she murmured.

And for once, it was enough.

[liamxainsworth]

Liam watched the game, finishing off his beer and planning to grab another as he watched the antics around him. He looked over at Mara then. “Baseball not your sport?” he asked with a grin. “I’m sure you would have been entertaining out there.” To be honest, baseball wasn’t his sport at all. Football maybe, not baseball though. It had been the one sport he didn’t find the appeal in. But leave it to Hollow Grove to actually make it interesting. “This has never been a favorite sport for me, but you add in the supernatural, and I’ll tell you it gets interesting. I wonder so many things, like what constitutes cheating? If a vampire uses their speed to get a human out…is that cheating?” He knew it didn’t truly matter and it was all in good fun though. Liam was in a rare good mood considering the date approaching being the one year anniversary of the Summerdale destruction. He planned to ride this wave of good vibes while he still could.

@marahastings

[from-russia--with-love]

-having already sank a bottle's worth of 'pre-drinks', Clara's all but bouncing her way down the corridor, excitedly dragging Marie Fay behind her- 

Come on. The sooner we get out, the more time we'll have.

[diaboliser]

Louie sat down and put his head in his hands with a groan. "I've done something horrible."

[from-russia--with-love]

-entering the Black Ball, Clara paused to let Marie Fay catch up, having left her behind at the front gate. Upon being asked for her name, Clara had quickly swapped her and her friend's identities, striding ahead before anyone could even question whether 'Marie Fay Montgomery' was the girl they'd heard rumoured to be a 'leak' — or why the surprisingly small Clara Tarasova looked so nervous as she hurried along behind-

Come on, I said I'd get you in, didn't I?