#I said oh I need a break from boxing it’s too aggressive and high energy for my summer exercise. I’ll do ballet instead!

[corruptedcaps]

Contraband

"Miss Black, how many times have you been told you that running shoes are not part of our uniform?" said the kind but stern Principal Kent, catching Kelly between classes. "I know, sir, but my shoes were taken by the other girls, Samantha and her gang. I only have my trainers left."

Kent looked at her, still stern, but a flicker of empathy registered in his face. "One of these days, Kelly, you're going to have to stand up to them. You need to be more aggressive. For now, here take this key, it will get you into the confiscation room, there is surely to be a pair of shoes in there you can borrow. Quickly now!" he said hoping no one would see his obvious favouritism to Kelly.

Kelly nodded, feeling the weight of isolation as she walked down the corridor. Bullied and friendless, the boarding school seemed like a never-ending maze of hostility. As she entered the contraband room, she wondered if there would ever be a day when she could break free from the clutches of Samantha and her gang.

Kelly scoured the room, scanning through a sea of forgotten and illicit items. She passed a whole host of things that ranged from cigarettes all the way to dildos. There seemed to be items from every decade in there.

Finally her eyes fell upon the box marked 'shoes.' Inside, an array of styles and vintage greeted her, but one pair seized her attention immediately. Sky high white stilettos, barely acceptable within the dress code, beckoned her. These were shoes she would have never considered before; too sexy, too trashy, she thought, for her plain, boring body.

And yet something about them was nearly daring her to try them, to step outside her comfort zone. Hesitant, Kelly pulled the stilettos from the box. As she ran her fingers along the shiny material them, a rebellious spark ignited within her. Perhaps it was time for a change, a departure from the identity imposed on her by Samantha and her gang. She tried them on, the unfamiliar sensation of height and confidence taking hold.

She unsteadily walked a few feet to a nearby lengthwise mirror and took in her reflection. The shoes looked ridiculous on her, her messy hair, glasses and oversized clothes clashed immediately with the shoes. She cursed to herself. For even thinking they might look good on her.

However as she reached down to take them off the stilettos suddenly seemed to tighten around her feet of their own accord. A strange sensation washed over her, making her lightheaded. Dark purple wisps wafted off the shoes, swirling up her legs and around her body. The room crackled with an energy both electric and foreboding.

Kelly gasped as the purple cloud shot into her mouth and slithered down her throat making her cough. Despite the discomfort she felt a most pleasurable sensation start in her stomach and radiate outwards. She felt her very bones creak and her skin stretch and go taut in equally measure. Her body somehow changing.

The shoes, now snug against her feet, seemed to sculpt her legs, elongating them with an ethereal elegance. Her posture shifted, adopting a more defiant stance that hinted at newfound confidence. The curves of her silhouette became more pronounced, as if the magic sought to highlight a beauty that had long been overlooked.

“Ohhh god what’s happening to me? I feel so… nasty.” She groaned as the changes continued.

Her clothing, seemingly touched by the same mystical forces, clung to her transformed figure with a provocative allure. The ordinary uniform tightened around her increasingly shrinking stomach. Her shirt tied up at the middle to expose her new flat midriff and to act as a bra for her now bigger tits. The once modest knee length skirt shortened to a length that would expose her privates with the most subtle of breezes.

The very thought would have made Kelly blush previously but was now turning her on. So much so that she was delighted when she felt her underwear dissolve away leaving her pussy bare.

“Oh fuck yes it’ll be so much easier to fuck studs like this. Oh god what am I saying? That’s not the kind of girl I am! Mmmm but I could be.” She groaned in pleasure.

Her messy brunette locks underwent a startling change, gradually transitioning to a lustrous and thick mane, gaining several inches in height as if was made of hairspray.

Simultaneously, fake nails snapped on her fingers. As if guided by an unseen hand, they took on a polished white sheen to match her new shoes. Finally her skin took on a bronzed fake tan look from head to toe and thick sexy makeup covered her face.

As Kelly eyed herself in the mirror, a personality crystallized in her mind. The girl staring back at her wasn’t some delicate well spoken wallflower who bent to the orders of anyone, not least Samantha and her clique of stuck up princesses.

No, Kelly was now a girl who did whatever she wanted and fuck the consequences. She was a trashy bitch who lived for life’s pleasure’s. A wicked grin crept across her face. "Fuck, look at me now, I’m proper changed, innit? No more being the soft target for those posh sluts. I feel so nasty and mean, I fuckin’ love it!"

She played with her thick hair, and started chewing on gum that had somehow appeared in her mouth. "Gone from plain Jane to a fuckin' babe. Never thought I'd look so good as slutty chav."

Her eyes glinted with a rebellious fire. "Those slag bullies won't know what to do with me. I'm not a fuckin’ pushover anymore.” She laughed to herself as she picked up the box of cigarettes she had seen earlier and sparked up on.

She breathed in deep its smoke, letting it coat her lungs. She blew a perfect ring as if she had done it a thousand times. She ran her fingers along the shelves of the room pocketing or wearing anything that caught her eye. She quickly lost track of time and ignored the bell ring signalling the end of class.

She was just eying a huge dildo when Principal Kent, concerned by Kelly's prolonged absence, entered the room with a purpose. However, as his eyes fell upon the transformed figure before him, shock and disbelief painted his features. "Kelly, what in the world..."

She looked at him first like the authorial figure he was and was about to scowl but then something started to grow inside of her, a sudden lust. Kelly had always been fond of Kent and that fondness had transformed into a newfound need to fuck him. She couldn’t help but salivate at the thought of tasting his dick and making him cum inside her. She stubbed her cigarette on the ground with her new heels and walked over to him like a panther.

She walked past his open mouthed stance and closed the door. With a turn of the lock she sealed the two of them in. She put her hands behind her butt and arched her back at him, pushing out her cleavage. Kent gulped.

“Ohhhh sir, I’m so glad you came, I got locked in here by mistake. You’re my knight in shining armour.” She said with a dangerous smile as she slowly approached him. He backed away into a shelf, pinned in by the new Kelly.

“Miss Black, I think we need to find you some help, why don’t we…” He began nervously.

Her wicked grin cut through his words as she stood confidently in his path. "Principal Kent, no need for help. I’ve learned the one thing you’ve always said I needed to be. Aggressive. And call me Kelly, babe."

In a bold move, Kelly seized Principal Kent by the head, pulling him into a deep and unexpected kiss. As their lips met, the magic within her stomach rose up and out her mouth entering Kent’s body. Kelly pulled back from their kiss and found Kent to be in a sort of trance.

“Well isn’t this a surprise?” Kelly said waving her hand in front of his face to no reaction while tasting the lingering magic on her lips. Smirking to herself she undid his belt buckle and let his pants slide to the floor. Pulling his underwear down she was dismayed to find a fairly insignificant penis staring back at her.

“Let’s see what my slutty magic mouth can do about this.” She grinned as she wrapped her pink lips around his cock and began sucking. To her delight she felt it grow larger in her mouth. However Kent seemed to break from his trance by her slurping but rather than stop her he grabbed her hair and guided his cock in and out of her mouth.

“Oh fuck yes you dirty slag, suck my big cock. Oh what am I saying? What are you doing to me.” He groaned in confusion but finding it hard to stop himself. Kelly looked up at him with satisfied dirty look on her face as she watched the magic start to spiral out from her mouth, down his shaft and infect the rest of his body.

His body began to bulk outwards along his arms and legs, becoming strong and muscular. His flabby middle aged stomach sucked in and became a toned six pack. He aged backwards, going from his 40 something self into an 18 year old hunk with a stylish haircut and chiselled jaw line. His muted suit turned into one of the school uniforms that barely contained his new bulging form.

He couldn’t help but look at himself in the mirror as Kelly continued to suck him off. He flexed his muscles and practiced a scowl. Like Kelly before him he found a new persona emerge the more he looked at his reflection. One that was mean, cruel and loved to bully. The only thing he loved more was his bitchy girlfriend Kelly.

He felt his huge dick start to spasm as he let the new personality take over, he was about to cum but Kelly had other plans. Pulling his dick out of her mouth she started to stroke it slowly as she stood up and slipped her wet pussy onto it. They both moaned in unison as she did.

“Ohhhh fuck babe I don’t know what you did to me but I fucking love it. I feel like such a bastard now.” He grinned.

“Stop bloody talking will ya and fuck me!” She said with a cheeky grin as he lifted her off the ground and pushed her against a wall. She groaned in ecstasy Ashe rammed his member into her wanting pussy again and again.

“Cum in me you fucking bastard!” She groaned loudly that she was sure most of school would hear. Kent obliged by thrusting long and hard into her. The magic that she had imparted on him was now re-entering her body. With each drop of cum coming in Kent started to revert back to his older form.

“No! No! What’s happening to me?” Kent cried out as he slowly dropped Kelly to the ground unable to hold her with his weaker arms. Kelly smirked to herself as she watched Kent turn completely back to his normal self.

“Sorry babe, but the magic likes to come back to me, I can’t help it can I? But tell you what, you be a good little principal and let me do whatever the fuck I want and we can make this a daily thing. Deal?” She said as she toyed with her hair.

Kent looked at her tight body and her sexy smile and knew he would do anything she asked. Anything to feel strong again and anything to feel her warm pussy again. He nodded. With that Kelly disappeared into the shelves to retrieve something.

“Good. First things first, the uniform code doesn’t apply to me anymore got it? I can wear whatever the fuck I want from know on got it?” She called out from deep in the room.

“Oh I don’t think I can do that, it will be obvious favouritism….” He started but trailed off as Kelly emerged dressed in a new outfit. He gulped and felt his dick get instantly hard.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m going to be your new student liaison, or something proper like that, so I’ll need to stand out from the rest of school or make up whatever excuse you want I don’t fucking care. Either way we’re going to be spending a lot more time together and you’re going to help me rule this dump. Aren’t you babe?” She said more as a statement of fact than a request.

She didn’t need to sink to her knees and suck him off again but she had gotten so horny thinking about what a mean bitchy queen chav she was going to be that she wanted big strong Kent back and Kent wasn’t going to argue.

THE END

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #evil couple #corrupted couple #corrupted shoes #corrupted clothing

[fannyspammy]

Hiii, I love your firsts series with Adam warlock and wanted to ask if you could do something like that with Minho? Because I saw you write for him too so I wabre to ask but if not that’s totally okey too! I don’t want to pressure you! Have a nice day!

Tease

Minho x Reader

Summary: the first time Minho admits he’s attracted to y/n

Warnings: nothing! You do get sassy asshole Minho & protective Minho (and a hint of soft Minho, if you squint) in one fic tho hehe.

A/N: A little break from the Adam fics with some Minho content! Shoutout to @theblaxkbird for requesting :) wasn’t sure if you wanted it sweet or a little spicier, so I kept it light! It is kind of long [& by kind of I mean very] tho oops sorry. If anyone wants more Minho content feel free to send in requests! Enjoy :)

[not my gif]

The first time y/n met Minho he was… well, insufferable. She arrived in the glade a month after he and the first group of gladers did, & was the first and only woman there. The other boys were either kind to her or afraid of her— either way, they looked out for her and catered to her needs. But Minho? Was an ass.

While the other boys helped pull her out of the box & introduced themselves with a smile, clearly excited to see a girl join the group, Minho led with his famous eye roll & a turn of his heel, walking away in a huff.

Newt apologized on behalf of his friend, explaining to y/n that he wasn’t normally like that, although they had been through a lot in the last month.

As the weeks went by, Minho made it a point to pick on her & tease her, every chance he got, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was simply pretending she didn’t exist.

“Ow! Um, excuse you,” y/n called after Minho when he aggressively bumped her shoulder, cutting her in line. Minho picked up a plate silently, unphased by the irritated girl standing behind him.

Newt rolled his eyes from a few places back. “C’mon Minho, you’re gonna cut in front of the lady?”

“Uh, no, I’m not gonna, ‘cause I already did,” Minho said, looking at his friend from over his shoulder.

Y/n rolled her eyes & swatted the air in dismissal. “It’s fine, Newt.”

After getting her food, y/n plopped down on the soft field a few metres from the Homestead, taking in the warmth of the high noon sun. She ate in comfortable silence, grateful to have a moment to herself in her day surrounded by rowdy boys.

Her comfortable silence was quickly broken by an uproar from the homestead. A chorus of voices erupted, indecipherable. She squinted through the sun, trying to see if she could spot the reason for the ruckus. It died down momentarily, and y/n got up to begin making her way over.

As she approached, Alby stomped out the door with incoherent shouts spilling from his lips, dragging Minho by the arm. Gally followed closely behind, Newt holding him back. It looked like there was a gash across his cheek.

Y/n rolled her eyes.

Why am I not surprised?

She turned around & returned to her spot, watching Alby scold Minho from a distance before leaving him sitting on the grass, ripping it from its roots like a child on time-out. She chuckled to herself, thinking how he was finally getting what he deserved. Then, from her peripherals, y/n saw Minho stand up & make his way over.

Crap.

“Whatcha doing out here?” he asked, hands in his pockets, a large bruise visible on his cheek now that he was closer. His tone didn’t seem hostile for once, but y/n wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to get there.

“What are you doing out here? Tired of getting your ass kicked in there?”

Minho rolled his eyes & plopped down beside her. “You still mad I cut you in line?” He rested his forearms on his knees, his toned muscles peeking out from under his rolled up sleeves.

Oh, god, there is no way this shuckface is gonna disrespect me, act like all he’s done is cut me in line, & then come flaunting his stupid muscles under his tight shirt.

Y/n stood up with a scoff, walking back to the Homestead. The last thing she had was energy to deal with Minho today.

————

“What’s wrong, luv?” Newt said as he approached y/n. “What’s gotcha sittin’ in a bloody corner all by yourself?”

Y/n crossed her arms. “Take a bloody guess.”

The Brit sat down across her. “Y’know, he’s not so bad.”

“All he’s done since I got here is bug me!”

Newt shrugged. “So he likes to tease. He also just took a punch for you.”

Y/n sat up. “He what?”

Newt raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t tell you? I saw him walk over to you outside to I assumed he came over to brag about it. The bugger almost got thrown in the slammer for ya”

“Newt, tell me what happened.”

Newt explained how as she walked outside, Gally made an inappropriate comment about her ass. To everyone’s surprise, Minho warned Gally not to talk about y/n like that again, but instead of apologizing, Gally commented something even more crude (something along the lines of “I’d like to stick it up there”, complete with gestures according to Newt). That’s when Minho really surprised them, lunging at Gally & tackling him to the ground. Gally got in one good punch before Alby finally lifted Minho off of him.

“Don’t worry, Minho definitely got more hits in than Gally did,” Newt informed. “But he was bloody riled up. Ya might wanna talk to him.”

————

When y/n found Minho he was laying in his hammock facing away from her, tossing a rock up & down. He paused for a moment, holding the rock still between his index finger and his thumb, as if sensing her presence, & then resumed just as quickly, as if dismissing it.

“Minho?”

“Whaddaya want, shuckface?”

Y/n rolled her eyes at the nickname & trudged over to stand in front of him.

“I brought you an ice pack,” she said, holding it out for him to take. Minho eyed the ice pack, then her, then the ice pack again, before returning his attention to the rock in his hand.

Y/n rolled her eyes for the second time in 2 minutes. When he didn’t take the ice pack, she walked over to the other side of the hammock & placed it on his cheek herself.

As soon as the cold touched his skin, Minho glanced at her without turning his head, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Y/n, what the hell are you doing?”

“Oh, so you do know my name. I was beginning to think you actually thought my name was shuckface.”

“Damn, shuckface,” Minho emphasized the word & smirked at the eye roll it triggered. “Why you so sensitive today?”

Y/n laughed. “Me? Slim it Minho, I’m not the one who got into a fight over a comment. Hell, if I was as sensitive as your shuck ass we’d be in a fist fight every day.”

Minho groaned in frustration and mumbled to himself. “Of course Newt had to tell you…” Sitting up, he snatched the ice pack from her and began to play with it in place of his rock. “Well, I wasn’t gonna let him talk about you like that.”

“Why not? You talk about me like that all the time.”

Minho wrinkled his nose in distaste for her words. “You think I talk about you like that? I like to tease you, shuckface, not talk about you like some easy skank.” He tilted his head to look at her & shrugged. “And you know I don’t actually mean the klunk I say. I just like when you react, ya shank.”

When her brows furrowed with confusion, he realized she did not, in fact, know that.

“Wait, did you think I was serious? When I’d tease you?”

Y/n threw her hands up in exasperation. “Well, I don’t know, Minho! How was I supposed to know you didn’t actually hate me when the second I stepped foot in the Glade you just rolled your eyes & turned around? You didn’t even bother introducing yourself! I had to get your name from Newt as he apologized for you!”

Minho smirked playfully. “Aw, was the little greenie upset I didn’t give her attention?”

“Slim it, Minho.” Y/n began to walk away. “I dunno why I wasted my time coming here.”

Minho grabbed her wrist. His hand was cold from the ice pack he’d been holding. “Y/n, wait.”

The boy sighed as he pulled her forward to face him again. His head was tilted down but his eyes looked up at her, as if he was embarrassed.

“Look, I’m sorry for ignoring you when you first arrived.” Y/n’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

Did he just apologize?

Minho continued. “You’re the only girl in a field of dudes. And let’s be real, you’re attractive. Clearly whoever sent us here knows my type. And when you arrived, ya know, we’d only been here a month, we were just getting things into routine, getting a structure kicked in— things were just starting to get… normal.”

He laid back down in his hammock again, hands behind his head as he regained his confident composure, attempting to mask the substance of his words with nonchalance.

“Not to brag, but I’d already started to build a reputation as a strong leader, & I knew a lotta those shanks out there looked up to me. So when you showed up, I just didn’t wanna get… distracted. But I should’ve been more welcoming. I’m sorry. And if you were actually upset about me teasing you this whole time you shoulda said somethin’, shuckface, ‘cause I just didn’t know.”

“Now wait just a damn second,” y/n said, putting her hands on her hips. “Are you telling me the whole reason you’ve been acting like an ass is because you’re attracted to me?”

“No, I’m telling you I didn’t want to be distracted by you.” He began tossing the rock again.

“Because you’re attracted me.”

“Am not.”

“You literally just said I’m your type.”

“Mm, is that what I said, though?”

“Minho!” Y/n punched him playfully and he reacted in mock hurt.

“Ouch! A girl who packs a punch? Maybe you are my type after all,” he teased.

Y/n looked him up & down, as if measuring what she was working with, then replied with a smirk. “Good.”

With that, she walked away, Minho’s eyes trailing behind her. Before she was out of sight he called after her.

“Thanks for the ice pack!”

Without looking back she shouted her reply, amusement playing on her lips.

“You’re welcome, shuckface.”

#i love him I miss him I haven’t thought about him in so long #i need to reread/rewatch tmr #minho #tmr minho #minho tmr #minho x reader #tmr minho x reader #minho x reader tmr #minho imagine #minho smut #minho imagines #minho tmr imagine #tmr minho imagine #tmr #the maze runner #the glade #thomas tmr #tmr newt #tmr x reader #tmr thomas #tmr gally #tmr fanfiction #tmr fandom #long fic

[badolmen]

*aggressively does ballet*

#ra speaks #personal #I said oh I need a break from boxing it’s too aggressive and high energy for my summer exercise. I’ll do ballet instead! #<- me. naive. not knowing the horrors and hate my heart would garner in the coming months. #actually I think you should pay me 2k my grandpa and aunt mimi died in the last 100 hours and you’re threatening me with debt I can’t afford #may your pillow never be cool and your car make a concerning noise that never goes away #I am torn between leaving their response in my archives and… #simply replying ‘ok - sent from my iPhone’ or a similarly dismissive and insulting gesture #I told you to fuck off now do so little money thief. go. take my money and think about my dead family who need funerals paid for. think.

[silverbyuls]

( lee hyeri, cis female, muse i ) oh snap! is that SHIN EUNBYUL they work over at high volume where some of the other employees have labeled them as THE AVERAGE JOE. that’s probably because they can be a bit ( optimistic. ) but also pretty ( dishonest. ) they’re TWENTY TWO and they’ve been living in woodstock for TWENTY TWO YEARS. it must be their shift because i totally hear THE CRANBERRIES blasting from the record store. ( a little tikes piggy bank tucked under the bed, clothing label sticking out from the back, snap clips with varnish peeling off, jelly shoes with the strap taped together, leaving lisa frank stickers along record crates ) @volumeupdates

BIO

the luke hemsworth of the family but middle child

goes by byul

tried to go by ‘e.b.’ but her mum went berserk because she’d reduced her name to two letters for the ease of her yt friends and her brother bullied her for being e.t’s ugly sister so now she tries to go by silver star (her name translated into english) but it doesn’t quite stick

claims that her older sister and younger brother stole all her beauty, brain cells and height

family invested everything into older sister so she could go to college in new york: savings, loans, moved to smaller house which is even further from the town centre

brother requires all attention as he has high hopes of getting into college on a baseball scholarship and she lowkey can’t wait until he’s far away from woodstock

her grades have always been average so no one expects her to leave – her parents talk about how nice it is that she’ll be with them forever but she knows that’s because they want her to take care of them when they’re old … which she would! if they didn’t live in woodstock

she tells them she’s going to move to california, but they think she’s as serious about that as she is about wanting to go to college, or becoming supermodel of the world, or an olympic swimmer, when she has average grades, of average height, and can’t even swim

if her life was a movie, she’d have fallen asleep in the first ten minutes – it has always been so boring and uneventful, so she lives up in her head with her fake scenarios to keep things interesting – most of the time, they’re taken straight from a book or magazine

sometimes these thoughts spill over into reality because she can’t fathom the idea of people realising she’s as plain as she is, and her little white lies give her a bit of sparkle to stand out (in her opinion)

but she will get to california!

she even has a plan:

she’s been working at freddy’s diner since she was fifteen, escaping to high volume whenever she can, a place where she can pop her headphones on during her breaks and pretend she’s getting ogled at on venice beach, but she’s terrible at saving so seven years later she’s still grinding

once she graduates high school, she has enough time for a second job and she’d dropped enough hints in front of jerry for him to kindly offer her a job. after all, she spends as much time in high volume as she does at freddy’s so there’s not much of a difference once she becomes an employee -- still floating around the place, sipping on her coke can, either people watching or people chasing -- except now she has access to the register

after a big argument with her parents, she ended up moving out into a place in the middle of town. that was never part of the plan because saving was easier when she lived at home. she’ll say things got really bad but really, she was just getting closer to her target and she wanted a valid reason to put it off for a bit longer

she was only supposed to do it once – stealing from the cash register. it was just right there, no one was around, and she thought it was going to be her last shift because jerry was angry at her for being late again (granted, he hadn’t actually been mad, but it was one of those days when everything felt personal)

besides, she’d overheard a group of girls she’d idolised in school talk about how they stole some underwear and they made it sound so cool

she felt like everyone could hear her heart thumping against her chest as she walked out of the store but the day after, no one said anything about it, no one even noticed, and she wasn’t fired. so she did it again, and again, and again, and eventually she didn’t even bat an eyelid

the extra money was supposed to help her reach her goal faster but, again, she’s terrible at saving and her parents are so hardworking, she can’t help but feel guilty and buy nice things for them every once in a while and when they ask where she got the money from, she lies and says jerry gave her a bonus for being a good employee

on the other hand, if they’ve had an argument, or they’ve forgotten about her again, she’ll have a full on les-mis-i-dreamed-a-dream episode then splurge out on a cute jacket because it’s hers and it’s new! rather than worn out hand-me-downs from her sister or brother!

started her own side hustle called the separation agency – inspired after a customer at high volume asked her to help him break up with his boyfriend. so she’s the messenger for people who have things to say but don’t have the balls to say it to someone’s face themselves. usually they’re horrible messages, like break ups. she’s had like three customers and tries to promote her side hustle whilst on her shift at high volume

she thinks her “business” could actually thrive in a bigger city which is just another reason why she needs to get out of woodstock – it’s holding her back!

anyway, jerry’s missing, which is perfect for her because she gets to come in late and not get told off, and maybe steal a little more than she usually does

PERSONALITY:

when she’s around people, she seems like an extrovert: bubbly, talkative, dramatic ... which uses up a lot of her energy and her social battery is weak, so needs her own space often, and likes doing nothing by herself so sometimes she’ll lie to get out of plans or bail last minute 

she has big dreams, and talks about all her big plans, but has leaving anxiety which is why she’s shit at saving and makes up excuses as to why she can’t leave just yet 

has main character syndrome -- likes to live her life as a romcom, most of her lies revolve around her love life because she wants to be seen as desirable, but also will overanalyse everything 

sensitive, passionate, immature, sympathetic, fickle, clumsy, dramatic, caring, head in clouds

will pretend to knows things to fit in like ~hipster~ bands or anything really, depends on the crowd

could gladly spend all day talking to customers at work then the next day she’ll prefer to day dream in the storage room

rides a bike to and from work and almost everywhere else too -- the only one out of her siblings who had to bike to school because small car and siblings took up all the space -- she’s had the same bike since high school 

loves spice girls but feels like she’ll be judged so keeps quiet and plays it when she’s closing

honestly could hate you one day and have a crush on you the next but you wouldn’t even know it -- a vicious cycle 

collects stickers and leaves them everywhere and on everyone - often passive aggressive through them, basically uses them like emojis

will try to order food and get others to pay for it - especially kfc, never gets to eat the drumsticks at home so will honestly cry if people steal the drumsticks from her

buys lottery tickets and scratch cards because she has a 50/50 chance of winning

WANTED CONNECTIONS: (current connections)

start up: stolen str8 from a kdrama that ruined my life hehe her parents set her up with a pen pal to keep her busy out of guilt because they’re so busy with her siblings and work and obviously she romanticises it !!! her parents would’ve asked to lie a little bit, just so she’d be writing to someone she’d easily obsess over -- love island vc: someone who ticks all the boxes 

xoxo gossip girl: someone who loves a good gossip sesh -- they probably send 👀 at each other across the store when things feel a bit tense, which is code for ‘meet me in the storage room’ so they can chat away for the rest of their shift

lunch stealer: she makes her own lunch every day and is extremely protective over it but one day it went missing and she knows it was them (maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t) so now they are her sworn enemy

sister’s/brother’s friend: therefore an automatic enemy

shut up: someone who just tells her to shut up because she chats so much shit and she’s insane - just sandra x dina vibes from superstore (x)

carpool karaoke: she hates cycling in when it’s raining, so either she’s trying to get them to be her designated driver or has already succeeded and is annoying about it

crush #1: someone she has a crush on (more of an infatuation) and they’re not interested in her in the slightest but in her head they’re giving her mixed signals and she has made up a fake boyfriend to try to make them jealous

crush #2: someone she thinks has a crush on her. either because they’re nice or tease her or just mean, it doesn’t matter, she’s insane so she’ll interpret it however she wants

ex: they never broke up, or even dated, but she thinks something almost happened between them and she thinks she cut things off by giving them space

separation agency: someone who once used the agency either out of the kindness of their heart or for a different reason entirely and now she won’t stop pestering them to try and get them to use it again

no thots just vibes: i just like this gifset tbh (x) and we can brainstorm ! 

#volumeintro #*releases into the wild*

[silvermalkin]

Obey Me! Shall We Date?

Simeon x Reader

Sick Fic - Simeon caught a Devildom virus, but he’s been quarantined. Who is going to take care of him?

Rated: E

Word Count: ~3300

Tags: Gender Neutral Reader, Cuddles, Fluff, Solomon’s Cooking Mention

School had ended, but you were taking a moment to study in the RAD courtyard. Something your professor had said confused you, so you were pouring over your “Contracts, Loopholes, and the Stupid Mortals who Make Them” textbook.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, can I talk to you for a minute?”

You stopped flipping pages to look up at Solomon. “Sure. You look solemn, is everything okay?”

“It isn’t.” He hung his head. “I’m sure you noticed Simeon’s absence today.”

“I did. Is he sick?” When he nodded, you closed your textbook. “What can I do to help?”

“This isn’t a mere cold, there isn’t much that you could—” he stopped and regarded you thoughtfully, resting a finger against his lips. “No, I suppose if it’s you it should be fine. Would you like to come see him?”

You were already standing. “Let’s go.”

While you walked to Purgatory Hall, Solomon told you about Simeon’s condition. “Unfortunately, Simeon thought it would be nice to take a late-night walk along the River Doom in the rain and he ran into a Devildom virus. It wouldn’t be too serious for a demon or a human, however, for an angel it is quite dangerous.”

“Additionally,” he continued, “The Devildom air is quite aggressive. Normally our angel friends can handle it perfectly well but in Simeon’s condition it could be fatal. So for now we’ve set a seal around his room to limit his exposure.”

“How can we help him recover? Is there any medicine?”

Solomon shook his head. “Only the usual, to ease some of the discomfort. But Simeon will just have to fight the virus until it has run its course.”

“And moving him back to the Celestial Realm?”

“It would be too dangerous.”

“Poor Simeon. And I bet Luke is out of his mind with worry.”

Solomon sighed. “Luke, well, see for yourself.” You’d arrived at Purgatory Hall, and as soon as you went inside you heard a huge clatter from the kitchen. You rushed in to find Luke sprawled on the floor, his head in a bowl of butterscream frosting.

“Oh, Luke,” you said as you helped him up and removed the bowl. “Are you alright?”

He blinked away frosting to look at you with tears in his eyes and drips from his nose. You made a mental note to throw the frosting away later.

“What am I going to do,” wailed Luke, “nothing I make is turning out right. I can’t give these to Simeon!” He gestured to the counter behind him where a small mountain of sloppy pastries and burnt cookies lay ominously. “I can’t do anything else to help him feel better, what if he doesn’t ever get—”

You almost patted his head, but switched to a frosting-free shoulder. “Try not to worry, Luke. He’s a strong angel. I’m sure he will recover in time.”

Luke wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded. “You’re right. Simeon wouldn’t let something like the Devildom bring him down for good!” Still, he couldn’t quite smile and tears still ran down his cheeks.

“Since you get it,” said Solomon, “why don’t you ease up on the baking? It’s not like a sick person could eat this anyway.” He nudged a melting Petrifying Parfait. “You’ve taken up so much of the kitchen I haven’t been able to make any real food for Simeon.”

You pressed your lips together. “Mmhmmmm. Well, maybe if you can get Luke and uh, the rest of this cleaned up, I can make something light for him.”

Solomon grabbed a towel and vigorously rubbed Luke’s whole head and face to get off the icing, which made Luke mad, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. While they focused on cleaning up the desserts, you set about making a simple soup. Something warm and light that would give Simeon a bit of energy but wouldn’t tax him to eat.

After the food was ready, Solomon took you up to Simeon’s room, but stopped you before you stepped inside. “The seal,” he stated. “It’s rather delicate. I can maintain it as you go in, but too many crossings would break it.”

“So, you’re saying that if I go in I shouldn’t come back out.”

He nodded. “If you’re willing to take the responsibility and look after him until his fever breaks, I’ll begin.” He looked at you.

You looked at him. “What are you waiting for? The soup’s getting cold.”

He chuckled. “Of course.” He touched the doorway and concentrated a moment. “Alright, go on.”

Without hesitation you strode inside and set your tray down on the small table before turning to the bed and the angel who lay there.

Simeon indeed looked very unwell. He was breathing erratically and sleeping fitfully, the covers twisted around him as he fidgeted. He was sweating, too. He had gotten dressed, sans cape, but his clothes were damp. His bedside table had some medicine on it, but the packet laying by a glass of water was unopened. It was an antipyretic; looking at the box, he would have needed food to take this, anyway.

Thankfully Simeon had his own bathroom, so you wet some cloths down with cool water. First thing was to help wipe the sweat from his skin. You gently dabbed his forehead, and worked your way down to his neck and shoulders.

He stirred a bit, eyes unopen. “Luke?”

“Sorry, it’s me.”

He didn’t react for a moment. “The dream again,” he muttered. Then his eyes cracked open, although they remained unfocused. “Wait. Wh- I’m- you don’t need- they shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t get worked up. I wanted to come. Luke is too distraught to help you, and do you really want Solomon to make you something to eat?”

He smiled a bit, which relieved you. “No.” His eyes started to drift closed again.

“Hey, now. You can’t go back to sleep just yet. You need your medicine but for that you’ll have to eat something first. Do you feel hungry?”

He didn’t answer.

“Simeon.” You pulled him upright, hoping that would wake him up some more.

“I don’t feel hungry but I can probably keep something down.”

You handed him the thermometer and he stuck it into his mouth as you fetched the tray you’d brought. When the thermometer beeped you looked at the reading. “Too high, obviously, but you should be fine after medicine and some rest. Now, try some soup first. If your fever breaks and you want something a little firmer later, I brought up a shadow apple for you.”

“Are these rabbits?” He reached over to the plate and gently touched one of the apple-peel ears. “Cute.”

He was cute, with his flushed face and sleepy mannerisms. You were glad you went to the effort of cutting them nicely. “Here,” you said, holding up a spoonful of soup, cupping your hand underneath to catch drips.

Simeon stared at you.

You flushed. “Hurry,” you urged, bringing the spoon to his mouth.

Obediently he opened up and took let you tip the soup in, but he watched you the whole time, face flushed from fever. Probably.

“The taste?” you asked awkwardly.

He snapped out of it. “I… can’t taste anything.”

“Oh,” you said. Feeling a little disappointed you stirred the soup slowly. Then a small snort made you look up.

Simeon was laughing at you. “Sorry, sorry! It tastes delicious, of course.”

“Simeon! That’s so mean. And after I went to all the trouble.”

He gazed at you with soft, slightly teary eyes. “Well, if you’re going to see me so helpless like this, I wanted a little payback.” He laughed at your pout, but then winced and clutched at his temple.

“See what your playing around has brought you?” you tried to scold, but your worried face gave you away. You handed him the bowl. “Eat at least a little more and I’ll find you something to change into; your clothes are soaked.”

After you located some pajamas you returned to take the bowl from Simeon.

“Sorry, I could only finish half,” he said.

“Even a little will help. Here,” you gave him the medicine and the water, “time for this.” After he’d taken it, you said, “Okay, turn around.”

He looked so confused. “What?”

You raised the pajamas. “We need to get you changed. I’ll unbutton your collar.”

Uncertainly, he looked away and you carefully unfastened his shirt. His skin was too hot so you laid your hands on the back of his neck, hoping your fingers would feel cool and soothing.

He jumped and turned back, his own hand coming up to hold his neck where yours had been. “I think I can handle the rest myself,” he said hurriedly. He snatched the pajamas but hesitated. “Sorry, but could you help me into the bathroom?”

“Of course!” You moved out of the way so he could stand and held onto his elbow to steady him. Together you shuffled to the doorway.

“I’ll handle it from here.”

You were worried. “You’re swaying a lot, are you sure? I promise not to look.”

“Please,” said Simeon with a sad smile. “I’d like to hold onto a little dignity.”

“Okay, but call for me the instant you need me.”

While Simeon was busy, you took the opportunity to straighten out his sheets. They weren’t as sweat-soaked as his clothes had been, so you deemed them fine for now.

After that task was done, you sat restlessly. Simeon seemed to be taking a long—

A clatter from the bathroom and a thud made you instantly sprint over, yanking the door open without a thought. Simeon was slumped down next to the counter. You stepped over the toothbrush and cup he had knocked over on his way down and knelt next to him. He was breathing heavily and didn’t seem to notice you.

“Simeon, are you alright? Uh, aside from the obvious.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he turned glazed eyes towards you. He didn’t say anything, but he brought a hand up to cup your face.

You pressed your palm against his forehead. This was bad. “Simeon, we have to get you back to bed.” Again, he didn’t really respond, but when you started to stand, he made the effort to come up with you. Leaning on you heavily this time, you started back across the room.

It was then that you noticed. Simeon had managed to change into his pajama pants but hadn’t gotten to the shirt yet. He was clammy, but you couldn’t help but notice the fragrance of lavender and bergamot lingering on his skin. You started to feel hot, too, but it probably wasn’t due to a virus. He’s ill, you reminded yourself, this is not the time for any weird thoughts.

Once he was safely situated in bed you took his temperature again. It had spiked, but hopefully the medicine would kick in soon. There were cooling pads in his bathroom. You brushed the hair over his forehead aside gently so you could apply one. It looked so painful for him that your heart ached.

He seemed to already be asleep, but he brought his hand up to catch yours. He opened his mouth, but had to swallow hard before he could find his voice. “Thank you for taking, the-the time. To come.”

“Of course,” you said quickly. “I couldn’t be easy until I had seen your condition myself.”

He cracked an eye to look at you. “But Solomon said. Said no one could… the spell… come in…”

“He managed it somehow. I couldn’t just leave you alone!” You busied yourself with placing the cooling sheet on his forehead so you wouldn’t tear up. If you hadn’t come, would they really have just left him to handle this by himself? You started to get angry at Solomon and Luke.

“Don’t frown,” whispered Simeon. “I like your smile. It gives me, uh, strong. Ha. Strength.”

Tears really did start to well up. “Simeon, I’m so sorry you have to feel like this.” You stroked his hair softly. “I wish I could just kiss your pain away.”

“You could try?” He puckered up, but then relaxed into a pained smile. “No, I know you—didn’t mean it like that.”

You clenched your fist. He’s a sick person. You can’t take advantage of a sick person, but he was just… you leaned in quickly, planting a kiss on top of his head. “I wish I could do more.”

“You’ve already done… Just having you here…” He was drifting off again. “Which one is the angel?” he whispered, almost to himself. Then he stirred a little more. “Actually—”

“Name it,” you said.

“Could you sing? Is there a song, of—of healing…”

You bit your lip, trying to think. “Maybe like a lullaby? I’m not sure I could…”

“Please? You’re so lovely. So lovely… please, your song would be lovely. It doesn’t have, doesn’t have to be a real song. Just your voice. I just could listen to your voice for eternity. Eternity with you… would be nice.”

You nearly shrieked with how adorable he was being. Face burning, you started with a few hesitant notes. Simeon instantly smiled so serenely that your voice broke. You cleared your throat and started again more confidently.

It didn’t take long before he was sleeping peacefully; you let your voice taper off. You gently touched his cheek. His skin seemed a bit cooler, but you were still worried.

“How is he?” asked Solomon from behind you. Luke was next to him, vibrating with anxiety. Had they heard you signing?

You went to the door so you could whisper. “He’s sleeping alright now, and I think the medicine is working but he should still be monitored."

“Do you need to be relieved? We could probably take over if you’d like to go back to the House of Lamentation.” Luke nodded vigorously, but didn’t seem to trust himself to speak.

You balked. “Didn’t you say the spell shouldn’t be crossed that often?”

Solomon smirked at you. “Perhaps.”

“Solom—" began Luke at a yell, before he caught himself. All of you turned to look at Simeon, but he didn’t stir. Luke continued in a stage whisper, “This isn’t the time for pranks.”

You snorted softly. “It doesn’t matter. I’m clearly the one most capable of looking after a sick person. I’m staying.”

Solomon chuckled, and Luke, instead of being offended, hung his head. “I agree that would be best,” said Solomon. Well, then, we’ll leave you to it.”

Once they’d gone, you went back to check Simeon’s cooling pad and touch his cheek again. No change in either. Well, it wouldn’t do to worry too much. At first you tried to borrow a book and read by the fire, but every time Simeon shifted your head shot up anxiously.

Finally, you decided it would be easier just to remain next to him. You knelt on the floor next to him. You were feeling a bit tired, yourself, so you rested your head on the bed. But what if something changed and he needed you? Then you grasped the solution and his hand in one. Now you’d be able to feel if he woke up or was too hot. With that security, you allowed yourself to drift to sleep.

There was a soft touch against your head and you jolted upright. Was Simeon—he was awake and smiling at you. He’d been patting your hair with one hand while the other still grasped yours. You pouted at your faulty alarm system, but didn’t let go.

“How do you feel?” you asked, rubbing a hand over your face before you reached to feel his. He had removed the now-warm cooling pad, so you were able to feel that his temperature was much lower than it had been before. The edges of his curtains were dark, so it must still be the middle of the night, only a few hours.

“I don’t have a lot of energy, but my mind feels clearer.”

You handed him the thermometer. “That’s good!” Once it beeped, you took it from him and handed him the plate of apples. “It’s still a little high, but your fever has gone down.”

Simeon had already eaten three shadow-apple rabbits. “It’s because I have such an excellent and comforting nurse,” he said, squeezing your hand. You’d forgotten he was still holding it.

“I didn’t really do anything,” you demurred.

“Nonsense. An angel doesn’t get sick easily. Don’t mention this to Luke, but I was really quite worried about it. It was a great relief to have someone so capable with me. I could rest easily knowing you were here. It doesn’t hurt that the nurse is cute, as well.”

“Simeon,” you protested lightly. “Stop, or I’ll die, from embarrassment.”

“I’d never allow that,” he said, but yawned.

You collected yourself. “You still need some sleep. I’ll get you some more water, but then you should lie down again.”

“Only if you’ll lie down with me.”

You nearly tripped on your way to the sink. “Excuse me?”

He just smiled innocently. “You can’t have gotten enough rest kneeling like that.”

Was he doing it on purpose or did he really not hear himself sometimes? You cleared your throat and ignored him, wordlessly filling his glass. When you handed it off, you said, “I’ll just get some rest on the couch, and you can call if you need me.”

His hand caught yours again. “I’m doing a little better, but you really do comfort me. Are you sure you won’t stay here?” His light blue eyes shimmered as he gazed at you expectantly. What were you going to do, say no?

“Fine, just for a bit,” you said halfheartedly. He scooted over and you climbed in. He had arranged for an arm to be around your shoulders and he pulled you in close. “Are you sure this will be restful for you?”

He nuzzled into your hair and breathed deeply. “Mm, yes,” he whispered. “If I can get rewarded like this, maybe I should think about getting sick more often.”

You jerked back to look him in the eye. “Don’t even joke about it,” you scolded.

“Ah, I apologize.” He still smiled, though.

“Seriously, Simeon, you have to take care of yourself.” You were tired and your eyes felt hot. “I was so worried.”

He instantly softened. “I’m sorry,” he said, pressing a kiss to your brow. “I’m sorry,” he said as he kissed an escaping tear away. His hand came up to cup your cheek. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, meaning something else as he kissed you on each corner of your mouth. Then he kissed you fully. He was still warm, too warm, but soft and sweet, only the firmness of his hand betraying how deeply he felt about you.

All too soon he pulled back to plant one last one on your forehead. “Get some rest,” he said, tucking you under his chin and against his chest.

You didn’t know how he thought you could.

#Obey me shall we date #Obey Me Simeon #Obey Me fanfiction #OMSWD #Obey me swd #OM simeon #This is mainly an exercise in how to write again #so please forgive any mistakes

[thefanficmonster]

Quarantine On Crack

Until Dawn Gang + Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Some underage drinking, A LONG-ASS READ (sorry 😅)

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Humor

Summary: The Until Dawn kids (including Hannah and Beth) decide to go through literal hell - trying to survive each other while being stuck on a mountain, in a lodge together for an undetermined amount of time. It’s really a 50/50 chance of how their relationships will be affected by this much time spent together.

Requested by my dear Until Dawn Anon. This is the first time our babies aren’t suffering yay! Hope you enjoy! Know I had a ton of fun writing. The credit for some of these amazing quotes goes out to you (keep both the requests and quotes coming, I absolutely love them!) Love you, Vy ❤

Imagine what the aftermath of a human tornado would look like. You’ve got an image? Great. Now triple it as though three tornados had ripped through the place. Cause that’s what the lodge looks like right now.

Let me backtrack just for a second so I can give you a proper idea of what’s going on and how it came to be. I’d like to mention this ain’t my first rodeo. I’m not in Blackwood nor am I staying in this lodge with this group of people for the first time. I knew what I was getting myself into when I accepted Josh’s offer to go there now with this pandemic that’s eating away at the world. I knew certain members of the group would be hell to put up with but that quarantine beat staying at home alone with my thoughts, so I gave in. This plan had its perks: since we would be the only ones on the mountains and all of us are perfectly healthy, we’d be allowed to wander the woods and breathe some fresh air. On the other hand, however, I’d have to restrain myself from committing murder. The snowy wood outweighed the possibility of becoming a murderer and that’s how I ended up here with the ten people I’ve been friends with since high school freshmen year. 

We’re on day four so far. Yes DAY four, not WEEK four, and people are already scrapping with one another. Jess and Emily can barely tolerate each other. Mike and Matt likewise. I’ve been done with their shit since day two and am now watching a literal rom-com unfold in front of me. “Will They, Won’t They Squared” is the title in case you were wondering. Why squared? Well we have two pairs of love birds around here that are not official, BUT THEY SHOULD BE. Not naming any names or anything *ahem*.

I probably should’ve mentioned, while I was on the scrapping topic, that I have already managed to threaten Mike at least ten times. Emily and I are trying our hardest to remain civil with each other through passive aggression, and I must admit we’re doing well. 

Another thing that has been going on is A LOT OF FUCKING FLIRTING. I swear we run on hormones and caffeine. And I’m into it.

Jess and Emily were at each other’s throats just moments ago, the argument took so many turns and kept branching out so much I forgot what they were even fighting about. Sam and Josh are sitting in front of the unlit fireplace. Sam’s giving him a hard time about his inability to light a fire. She’s basically doing what I would’ve been doing if Matt hadn’t handed me a cup of homemade cider.

“Y/N.“ He says as he settles on the other end of the couch

“Matthew.“ I reply to his greeting, clinking our cups together

“GET A ROOM YOU TWO!“ Emily yells from somewhere behind us

“We have like three empty seats between us and exchanged two words.“ Matt shakes his head, looking at the staircase over the backrest.

“Oh, sureee.“ Emily replies sarcastically

I can tell she’s about to go on and I’ve already went off on Mike twice today so my argument energy levels are low and I’m not having it. Thankfully, a single look shuts her up real quick and she goes about her way.

Suddenly, a loud scream comes from the kitchen. Everyone turns to look in that direction, but I’m unfazed. It’s Ashley’s scream so I know exactly what’s up.

“Sit tight, guys. I’ve got this.“ I put my cider on the coffee table and walk into the kitchen, grabbing the can of deodorant that I purposely left on the counter for this exact scenario. I pull the lighter out of my pocket and step between Ashley and the source of her terror which is, as I guessed, one of those mutated ass Blackwood cockroaches. 

I waste no time torching it and picking it up with a paper towel before throwing it in the trash. We take the trash out every night at eleven PM as some unspoken ritual, so the corpse can chill there for now. I ain’t going out in the cold just to throw away the dead body of a cockroach.

“Sorry about that.“ Ashley says through a relieved sigh

“Don’t worry, Ash. Everyone’s afraid of something.“ I assure her, putting the can of deodorant where it previously was.

“Even you?“ she asks skeptically

“Nope.“ I respond with a smirk.

“I CAN CONFIRM!“ Josh calls out from his spot in front of the fireplace, “SHE ISN’T AFRAID OF ANYTHING!“

“And a pyromaniac on top of all.“ Chris mumbles under his breath

He’s not wrong. I did teach them the deodorant flamethrower trick.

I notice Jess has taken one of those three seats Matt mentioned were between him and I earlier. The one closest to him, to be specific. Instead of third wheeling, I grab my cup and plop myself in one of the armchairs.

“Is that another point for the ‘Y/N’s burnt cockroaches’ score board?“ Mr. Munroe struts his way into the room.

I hum affirmatively, “Piss me off some more and there will be another point on that score board.” I warn him nonchalantly, taking a sip of my now almost cold cider.

 Ashley, who has safely made it out of the kitchen and is now sitting on the floor by the couch looks up at me and Mike who is now standing behind my chair, looming over me like a street lamp. “Do you two even consider each other friends?”

I give Mike a debating glance, one he returns, before looking back at Ash, “We fuck occasionally.” Mike confirms from behind me.

“That doesn’t answer the question.“ Ashley’s disappointed sigh mixes with Jess’ shocked gasp.

I give Jess an unamused look, “What? Don’t act like I haven’t slept with you too.”

Poor Matt, who’s halfway through a sip of his drink nearly chokes at my words, “Wait, WHAT?”

“OK, show hands everyone who HASN’T slept with Y/N!“ Mike declares.

Chris, Ash, Sam, Josh and Matt raise their hands in the air.

“I’m honestly offended that I haven’t.“ Sam says while raising hers.

“Offended that you haven’t what?“ Hannah asks as her and Beth come downstairs a bunch of board games and puzzles in their arms. “And why are we raising our hands?”

“People who haven’t slept with Y/N.“ Jess quickly explains, grumpily folding her arms over her chest. I can’t help but laugh, nor can I restrain the urge to fluster her even further by winking at her.

“I would raise my hand but these boxes would go everywhere.“ Hannah shakes her head.

“I won’t raise mine because....well, I just won’t.“ Beth blushes, making me laugh.

Josh whips around to glare at me, “Seriously?”

I raise my hands in surrender, “Wasn’t my idea.”

Thankfully the topic is dropped by the time Emily walks in. She sits down on the other side of Jess on the couch, more than happy to interrupt her and Matt’s flirting.

“Oh, finally!“ Sam says as the fire that’s been in the making for a while now finally lights, “I knew you could do it, Josh!“

“We could’ve done it a lot quicker if you helped, you know?“ He narrows his eyes playfully at her, taking the hand she offered to him so she could help him up.

“True, but I was your moral support. You know I like focusing on one task rather than multitasking.“ She teases him, “And now I’ll be your cider supplier. Be right back.“

I give Josh that knowing smirk when I see his ears reddening. You know something’s up when your cheeks/ears are burning hot in a room that’s around freezing - you’re either burning with a fever or a crush. No other explanation.

Hannah and Beth have set the board games they’ve brought onto the coffee table so we can decide what we’d like to play.

“UNO?“ Beth offers while Jess, Josh and Matt look at the options.

War-like flashback ensue when I shake my head, “No! Nah hah, I’ll be tempted to strangle somebody.”

“Over UNO?“ Josh gives me this look that’s between disappointed and deeply concerned

“I’ve been tempted to kill over Rock, Paper and Scissors.“ That statement tells him enough that he turns back around with this stunned look on his face.

Eventually, after a lot of convincing, the whole gang is on board with playing a round or two of truth or dare until one of us decides something more original because we really don’t feel like playing board games.

“Truth or dare, Y/N?“ Emily asks, not giving anyone else a chance.

I smirk, kicking my feet up on the table, leaning back in the chair, “Truth for the first round.”

“Who here is the best in bed?“ she sneakily narrows her eyes at me, thinking she’s intimidating. How cute.

“Dare.“ Why don’t we make things interesting?

Em doesn’t complain, “We still have that cockroach’s corpse?”

“Enough said.“ I get up from my seat only to get grabbed by Mike and pulled back down.

“Easy there, caveman.“ He says, shaking his head, “Just answer the question. This doesn’t need to be gross.”

Chris, Ash, Matt and Jess look mortified. “You were gonna do it, weren’t you?” Matt gathers the guts to ask.

I give him a sweet smile and a nod. “And to answer your question: Me. My turn! Josh, truth or dare?” 

He glares at me intensely, “Dare.”

The fucker knows I’m not the type to give ‘kiss this person’ or ‘7 minutes in heaven with that person’ dares. But I do ask some risky questions. Well...the only way to get him into my trap is to use his hatred for bug against him.

“We do still have that cockroach. So...“ I give an innocent shrug of the shoulders, giving him the chance to put two and two together instead of breaking it to him.

You could pinpoint the exact moment the realization hits him, his face turning in disgust. “You know, Y/N, sometimes I really love you.” He says, very touching of him, “And sometimes I’d love to kill you.” He takes a moment, a moment filled with aggressive eye contact between us before finally giving in, growling: “Truth.”

I think I’m level with Mother Theresa for what I did next. “What’s your favorite video game?”

The relief that washes over him is priceless to see. His answer comes as a sigh that indicates that the whole world has been lifted off his chest, “Metal Gear Solid.”

“Cool.“ I say with a cheeky smile.

Being the college kids we are, we easily get bored after a few more rounds, but not before having to defuse an argument that’s basically name-calling between Jess and Emily. I’ve noticed a pattern: if one of them as much as breathes in the other’s direction - a cat fight takes place.

Thankfully, the group disperses into smaller groups or in pairs. Sam, Josh, Chris and Ash go to the theater. Mike and Jess head upstairs, and I think no one would like to go to that area of the lodge in the next two or so hours. Emily and Matt go on a stroll while Hannah and Beth somehow convince me to play Monopoly.

The round ends with Beth somehow gathering all of mine and Hannah’s territories. After a brief celebration they head on over to the theater to join the others. I turn down their offer to accompany them and go warm up the cider that’s now literally frozen.

“Grab whiskey if you want to speed up the process.“ I’m surprised to hear Munroe’s voice behind me but don’t show it as I refuse to even turn around to answer him.

“I’m saving the whiskey for when things get really fucked up.“

“Smart, I guess.“

I choose to be nice and fill up a cup for him as well. I hop up on the counter, taking a slow sip of my drink while looking Mike, who’s standing opposite me, leaning against the kitchen island, dead in the eyes.

“You know,“ he’s the one to break the tense silence that surged between us, “jealousy is a poisonous thing.“

Intriguing opening, Michael. “I’ve heard, yes.”

“Then why don’t you just drop it? You’ll be happier if you do, trust me.“ That smug look on his face makes me want to pour the hot liquid (Destery Smith, anyone?) directly onto his handsome features.

I hear a pair of footsteps approaching the kitchen. A side glance in the direction the noise is coming from confirms that there are indeed two people coming this way - Chris and Ashley.

“A bold thing to tell me while we’re around so many sharp objects.“ If the eyes are really windows to the soul, I would like to picture his with a bunch of stab-wounds from my glare-daggers. Though my gaze is intense, there is a calm smirk on my face. “I can kill you right now.“

Chris and Ashley walk into the kitchen and freeze - they clearly hadn’t noticed us until it was too late. They are looking at us like a pair of deer caught in headlights - mortified.

Mike jumps at the opportunity to ensure his safety, “You can’t! There’s witnesses.”

Unfazed, I turn to the pair who’s on the fence about what they should do, “Guys, could you please excuse us for a moment.”

They both nod hesitantly, slowly taking a step back. Mike is not about to let them go, however. He straightens up, setting the cup he’s holding aside. “No, no, no! Don’t move! Not another step!”

Their eyes land on me and I give them a reassuring and encouraging nod to exit the room. They both comply easily.

“Guys, come on!“ Mike pleads desperately, making me suppress a chuckle

“Sorry, Mike. But you won’t show up at my house in the middle of the night....“ Chris trails off with his apology when Ashley takes hold of his hand so she can lead him away from the kitchen.

“She will.” Ash finishes his sentence, giving me a subtle wink to which I reply by blowing her a kiss.

“Checkmate“ I say triumphally, turning to look at a somewhat scared and disappointed Mike.

“A FIRE IN THE THEATRE!“ Hannah’s scream startles all of us.

I look at the where I left the deodorant earlier, finding the spot vacant. Oh boy...

“Damn it, Josh! I told you not to use the flamethrower without my supervision!“ 

As Mike and I run out of the kitchen I hear Chris say: “I’m afraid this is the only time this getaway will be lit.”

I hope Ashley gently smacked him upside the head in response to that.

#until dawn #untildawn #until #dawn #until dawn fanfiction #supermassive games #supermassive #until dawn fanfic #crack #humor #comedy #until dawn crack #dark pictures anthology #ps4 #video games #video game #game #video game fanfic #until dawn josh #until dawn sam #until dawn chris #until dawn ashley #until dawn mike #until dawn jessica #until dawn matt #until dawn emily #chrashley #josh washington #reader #until dawn x reader

[cheeri0-queeri0]

My First Two Loves (WLW version): Chapter 3

Is she gaping? Emma has to be gaping.

“Ava… y-you and… Mason? Are…”

Ava grins rakishly, rubbing a hand along Mason’s back. “Madly in love? Or, well, lust - we haven’t gotten to that other L-word yet.”

Nails. Nails are being driven into her heart.

For his part, Mason looks taken aback by her reaction. “I meant to tell you last night, Emma.”

“You could’ve texted!” A lump is rising in her throat.

Mason scratches the back of his head. “I wanted to tell you in person. I tried to call, but when the line kept dropping, I thought…this is better?”

No. No it is not. It is one million times worse.

“Yeah, you’re right!” Emma forces the words to come out chipper, forces a placid smile. “I… I’m speechless. Congrats, you two.”

Congrats on secretly shattering her heart. But hey, what’s another secret to the now-sure-to-grow pile?

Mason’s shoulders relax, the tension falling from his face as he turns to Ava. “I almost forgot, babe! I got a little something for you.” He reaches over on the hood of Ava’s car where he put a cute little thermos.

Ava tentatively takes it from him, eyes wide in surprise. “Caramel macchiato?”

Mason gives her a shy, crooked smile. “With two shakes of cinnamon.”

Ava’s favorite.

The girl slings her other arm around his neck and rests her head against his cheek. “You remembered! Best boyfriend ever!”

Emma...is going to combust from agony.

“You guys are just so...perfect together,” she grits out, hoping it sounds passably pleasant.

Ava’s eyes find hers, softening just a bit.

Mason lets out a breathy laugh that seems more like a sigh of relief. “See, Ava, I told you she’d be happy for us!”

Ava blinks, breaking her gaze away. “I knew she would be. She is my bestie, after all.” There’s something off about her tone. If she hadn’t told Emma in the car that they were still solid despite Lauren dying to usurp her place, Emma would worry that maybe they weren’t best friends anymore.

Hell, maybe she’s still a little worried. And now for more than the Lauren reason.

“I should leave you alone for some...couple time. Catch you later!” Cue an ungraceful escape.

Mason jogs to catch up. “There’s so many times I tried to call. To tell you.” His voice turns plaintive. “Emma, I just want to double check. Are you okay with this?”

No! I am unequivocally not okay with this! God, how badly Emma wants to shout that at the top of her lungs. If she said it, Mason is exactly the kind of guy who would follow through and break up. He’s good. And that’s the problem.

“Mason. I’m happy for you. And for Ava.”

“...Yeah? Because your happiness means a lot to me.”

And now she has to sell it. “Yeah. I’m stoked. You’re so cute together. I should’ve played matchmaker years ago.” That...might have been overkill. “I just have some things to take care of right now. Talk later, okay?”

Mason nods. It worked. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Emma power-walks away, tears pricking at her eyes as she let her feet take her anywhere else.

After a short time, she rounds a corner, realizing too late that she’s behind the gym near the back parking lot she usually avoided.

And she wasn’t alone.

“Hey there, princess. What brings you to my place of business?” The boy is smarmy, leaning against the brick wall, hair gelled so thickly it wouldn’t move even in a tornado.

Emma stills, confused. “Your...uh, what?”

He frowns, pushing off the wall and wandering closer. “My store. My shop. My livelihood. What you buying?”

Oh. Shit. “I’m not - I’m just trying to get away from some people - ”

The boy comes to a stop too close. “Save it. A sob story won’t get a discount.” He looked her up and down, calculating. Though he definitely didn’t look like someone who was good at math. “Adderall. Has to be. A study buddy. Everyone needs one, right?”

He yanks a plastic bag out of his pocket.

“Oh, no thanks. I appreciate it, but I am not interested.”

His jaw works, clenching and unclenching. “The offer isn’t optional anymore. You saw what I’m selling. You’re part of this.” He takes one more step, his Axe body spray stinging the inside of Emma’s nose. “Now open up that bag and find me two hundred bucks.”

Several thoughts race through Emma’s head. The first, unhelpfully, is two HUNDRED dollars for one bottle of pills? Shortly followed by If I run, will he grab me?

Sensing the direction of her thoughts, the boy huffs. “I don’t like having to hurt people, really.” But he would, hung unspoken in the air.

“Leave her alone, Darren.” The voice is unfamiliar, low, with a rasp to it.

Emma whirls around to the girl stalking toward them. She’s...dangerous looking, leather jacket slung around her broad shoulders, green eyes boring unwaveringly into the aggressive pill-pusher.

The boy - Darren - backs up quickly. “N-Noelle? I didn’t know you were back in town. I’m just trying to run a business, okay?”

Noelle doesn’t speak, just wrenches the bag out of Darren’s hands and flings it onto the roof.

“You bitch!” Darren hesitates, glaring, then turns tail and runs.

The other girl watches him go, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. Up close, she’s taller than Emma, but only just.

It’s like the bubble of nervous energy inside her just bursts, and Emma blurts out, “W-wow, that was...kind of amazing -uh, amazingly stupid!”

Noelle hums, glancing at her. Emma doesn’t miss the way her eyes drift down to her stomach and back. “You gotta fight like with like.”

Emma laughs, a tittering little sound that she hates. She bites her lip, hard. “You’re lucky it didn’t come to a fight.”

The other girl shrugs, unbothered. “I like my chances better than yours.”

Okay...fair.

Noelle sighs, swiping a hand through her bangs to push them out of her chiseled face. “You should get out of here. I can’t spend all day playing guardian angel.”

“Oh.” The comment rubs her the wrong way, but Emma brushes it off. After all, she did call the girl’s heroics stupid. Maybe...maybe there’s a way to make it up to her? “Unless…you’re new, right? Maybe I can repay the favor and show you around?”

Noelle raises a brow. “How do you know I’m new?”

Not an outright rejection, Emma can work with that. She smiles. “I happen to know pretty much everyone here.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“So you’ve been invisible the past four years? I would definitely have remembered you.” The last part comes out without her even thinking it.

Green eyes drop to the ground, expression shuttering off. “I’ve...been away.”

“Like on a trip?”

“Not exactly.”

Emma pauses. She honestly can’t tell what the other girl is thinking. “You...don’t seem to like answering questions.”

Noelle’s lips twist into a humorless smile. “I’m told it’s one of my best character traits.”

Emma’s heart pangs. That’s messed up. “I’m not sure who told you that. It’s...sad. It keeps people away.”

“Sometimes it’s better that way.” Her voice is flat, either matter-of-fact or defeated. Who’s to tell?

“Not always,” Emma shoots back, challenging.

Noelle studies her curiously, weighing her words. She runs her tongue over her lips, then clicks it against her teeth, coming to a decision. “Fine. So, hypothetically, let’s say I take you up on this offer. What are you gonna do? Draw me a map or something?”

Emma snorts. She’s dismal at drawing. “I’d give you a tour. The campus has changed a lot the last few years, and I know all the best new spots. Besides, I’m not letting you get away that easy.”

She means it as a joke, but - she means it as something else, too.

Noelle’s back straightens, and there’s a renewed interest in her gaze. She gives her an easy grin. “I like the sound of that. Alright, I’m in.”

Something in Emma’s chest swoops. She can’t help but beam. “Welcome to Eastridge High tour extraordinaire.”

She takes the other girl around the school, pointing out landmarks important and trivial. Noelle opens up, not by much, but enough that Emma gets a glimpse of who she is underneath all the stoic backtalk. Intuitive, dry humor in spades, and…

And maybe...very, very attractive.

Emma’s only ever really had a crush on Ava, so she’s not totally sure what her type is, but damn. Apparently badasses check a lot of her boxes.

They wind up at the greenhouse, bequeathed by wealthy alum’s generous donation. It’s dubbed the Garden of Truth, the legend going that questions asked near the fountain in the center must be answered truthfully, with a magical limit of one a day.

Noelle chuckles, like legitimately chuckles. “You have to be making that up. Right?”

Emma tuts, kneeling to dip her fingers in the fountain’s water. “One question only, so choose wisely.”

Noelle looks up at all the hanging plants, the vines climbing towards the ceiling. “You first.”

Are you into girls?

“Have you ever been in love?” Close enough, right?

Noelle stiffens. “No,” she says, sharply, then reconsiders. “Maybe. I had feelings for someone I- someone I shouldn’t have.”

No pronouns. No closer to an answer for that, then. There’s silence for a moment, Emma tracing patterns on the water’s surface.

“You looked upset when you showed up at the parking lot today. Why?”

Emma jumps, drenching her sleeve. She stands. “I wasn’t - ”

Noelle sends her a look. “We’re in the Garden of Truth, remember? Be honest.”

Emma takes a deep breath. It might be nice to tell someone, someone with no stake in the fight. “I found out the girl I like is dating my best friend.” She wraps her arms around herself, holding Noelle’s gaze. “N-no one knows that I’m… Don’t tell anyone.” Her voice actually quivers.

Noelle reaches out and puts a hand on Emma’s arm. “I won’t. I’m good at keeping secrets.” She takes her hand back, and Emma immediately misses its warmth. “This girl… Does she know how you feel?”

Emma’s vision clouds with tears. “No.”

Noelle tilts her head, eyes crinkling in sympathy. “Figures. It’s hard to imagine someone turning you down.”

It isn’t hard for Emma - that seems to be all she has been able to imagine. The way Ava’s mouth would hang open, the way she would back away, turn her down. How it would get out, first to the cheer squad and then to the whole school. There’d be whispers, cruel jokes, pity. Everything would change.

They walk back out. Emma spots a few cheerleaders lounging around a picknick table in the courtyard. They wave her over.

Noelle slows, shoving her hands in her light-wash jeans pockets. “Looks like that’s the end of the tour. Bye for now, Cheer Squad.” She walks off before Emma can reply.

“...Bye?”

Her steps felt lighter as she joined the group. Like Noelle had lifted the weight since the Ava-Mason bombshell went off this morning. A distraction, if only for a few minutes.

Ava’s watching her with a somewhat shell-shocked expression. “Emma, I can’t believe you were talking to Noelle Harris!”

To her right, Lauren looks delighted. She twirls a lock of black hair in her manicured fingers, eyes sharp. “Don’t you know who she is?”

Emma searches the team’s faces for a hint, but she can’t find one. “What, is she famous or something?” It’s meant to be sarcastic, but she’s so confused it comes of as genuine.

Toni clears a spot for her, patting the bench. “You’d better sit down. You need to hear the truth about her!”

Taking trepidatious steps, Emma has the sinking feeling she’s gotten herself further into a mess.

#playchoices #choices mftl #mftl

[hushman]

Curse you Pidge the Paladin

Summary:

Pidge the Paladin (known also as Agent P) is an agent for O.W.C.A. (the Organisation Without a Cool Acronym) and dedicated to helping keep the world safe. She does this by stopping the "nefarious” schemes of “Evil Genius” Lance McClain, founder of Lance McClain Evil Inc. and evil invention tester for L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. (the League Of Villainous Evildoers Maniacally United For Frightening Investments in Naughtiness). Armed with the best untested equipment L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. can supply him with, Lance will work tirelessly on his plans for global conquest, unless it's on the weekends, after 5pm or if he’s takes a personal day. Taking over the world is all fine and dandy but a good work-life balance is essential.

Rating: Everyone

Tags: Comedy, adventure,

My entry for the Plance Mini Bang over at @planceminibang

Special thank you to @oddreycharge for Beta reading this and to @perrytheplatypusgirl for making a gorgeous piece of art for this fic.

Check it here

You can read the story below or you can read it over at Archive of our Own

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19764709

Enjoy

****

Pidge, hotshot O.W.C.A. agent, arrived in her secret base in a teal smart suit, orange tie, brown fedora, and black-rimmed glasses. She sat down in her chair in front of a screen as her boss, Coran Smythe, appeared onscreen.

“Greetings, Agent P,” Coran said. “Our intelligence shows strange frequencies being transmitted from the headquarters of Lance McClain as well as “how to detect increase in bird behaviour” on his web history. Your mission is to go there and put a stop to whatever nefarious scheme he is up to. Best of luck, Agent P.”

Pidge gave a salute, climbed into her jet-powered hover car, and flew off just as her theme song was starting.

Dooby dooby doo-bah Dooby dooby doo-bah Dooby dooby doo-bah Dooby dooby doo-bah Pidge!

She's a computer savvy, tech loving lady of action! (Dooby dooby doo-bah) (Dooby dooby doo-bah) She's a scrappy young hacker, Who'll never flinch from a fray-ee-ay-ee-ay!

She's got more than just all that, Fe(Wah-ah-ah) She's got a snazzy suit and a hat, Fe(ah-ah) And the men all swoon whenever they hear her sa-a-a-ay

“Hold up, who said anything about swooning?”

She’s Pidge, Pidge the Paladin But you can call her Agent P. Pidge! I said you can call her Agent P! A-gent-P!

A short flight later, she arrived at Lance McClain Evil Incorporated by crashing through a skylight.

Waiting for her was Lance McClain in a lab coat and holding a remote.

“Ah, Pidge the Paladin, what an unexpected surprise,” Lance commented. “And by that I mean entirely expected!”

Lance pushed a button. A massive pole popped behind Pidge. Before she could react, a stream of bola flew in, tying her to the pole.

“It appears you have fallen for my cunning trap.”

“Cunning trap?” Pidge deadpanned. “This is the third time you've tried to use this thing. You even marked out on the floor where you wanted me to stand.”

“And yet, you fell for it,” Lance crowed in rebuttal.

Pidge gave as much of a shrug as her restraints allowed. “I wanted to see if you had fixed the aim on the bola launchers.”

Lance pursed his lips. “Fine, act all high and mighty tied to that pole while I enact my evil scheme.”

“And by “enact”, you mean tell some backstory to justify whatever hairbrained scheme and device you have today.”

Lance ignored this jab as he introduced his latest “tragic backstory”.

“You see, it harkens back to my miserable youth spent in my cold and unforgiving fatherland.”

“You grew up in Cuba.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Lance snapped back before continuing. "My siblings have always despised me."

"Just last week, you said Veronica was wrapped around your little finger and loved you with all her heart."

"That was last week,” Lance dismissed. “As I was saying, I was left to face the endless shame and ridicule from my elder siblings. But no more! Finally, they shall learn true terror with this: the Fowlagitationinator!”

Lance flung his arms flamboyantly towards the glorified satellite dish.

“So what exactly does it do?” Pidge asked.

“I am so very glad you asked.” Lance paused briefly as he failed to discreetly pull back his sleeve notes. “This device will emit a frequency that will increase the aggression in every bird within the city.” He read monotonously, “All urban activities will grind to a halt as everyone is terrorised by millions of feathery foes, leaving the city ripe for the taking.” His voice and arms pitched in confidence, dropping his speaker notes in the process.

“Millions?” Pidge raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re overestimating the city’s bird population.”

“I was going for dramatic effect.” Lance let out a groan. “Look, you’re here to thwart my schemes, not criticise them.”

“Fair enough,” Pidge conceded. “Speaking of thwart...”

At that moment, the restraints fell off her body.

“So, did it actually take you this long to escape, or were you waiting for me to finish talking?”

“Didn’t want to be rude.”

Pidge pounced at Lance with a jump kick. The man dodged with a last minute swivel, just barely missing Pidge’s boot. While the first strike had not connected, it had placed her between Lance and the device. He tried to throw a right hook at her. Pidge ducked and delivered a double palm strike to Lance’s abdomen.

“Your gut feels firmer,” Pidge commented. “Have you been working out?”

“Why yes, I have. Thank you for noti..Argh!” Lance was interrupted by Pidge flooring him with a roundhouse kick.

“Are you ever going to not fall for the compliment sucker punch?” The agent snorted.

She fell to ground with a yelp when Lance yanked one of her legs.

“It’s not a crime to appreciate it when you notice the effort I put into this body,” Lance replied as he stood up and wiped his mouth to check for blood. “Speaking of which, would you stop going for the face?”

“Sure.”

Lance managed to catch Pidge’s foot before it connected with his groin.

“Not what I meant.”

Lance flung Pidge by her leg across the room, causing her to hit the brick wall with a crash. He raced to press the large red button on the device. Pidge fired her grappling gun. The cable shot out, wrapping around Lance’s arm and pulling him back. He managed to get his arm free from his lab coat in time to bring his guard up against a furious onslaught of limbs.

What followed was a series of back-and-forth blows. While Lance had a higher endurance, Pidge was harder to hit. This continued unabated until he picked up a nearby chair. Pidge snatched a stool of her own.

Before either of them could take a swing, a ringtone interrupted the battle. Both Lance and Pidge put down the chairs.

“Is that your phone or mine?” Lance asked.

“Yours,” Pidge replied. “I changed my ringtone last week.”

“Huh.” Lance checked his phone. “It’s my brother. I’d better take this.”

Pidge nodded her consent as Lance answered the phone.

“Hey Luis, how’s it going?...Not too bad. Same old, same old...Yeah, she’s here to thwart my scheme...Nah, it’s fine, what’s up? Sure I can watch them tonight...not a problem at all...You’ll be here at 7? Yeah, that's fine.” Lance looked up and saw Pidge pointing to her watch. “Listen I’d better get back to work but I’ll see you tonight...Love you too.”

Lance hung up and put away the phone.

“Thanks for that, so do you want go back to chairs?”

“Nah, the moment’s gone.”

“Fair enough.”

Pidge proceeded to duck and perform a leg sweep, causing Lance to fall to the ground. As he picked himself up, Pidge raced over to the device. She pushed the self-destruct button and pulled out her grappling gun. She fired out a line, yanking herself through the skylight as the device exploded.

“CURSE YOU, PIDGE THE PALADIN!” Lance yelled.

Once he was certain was alone, he picked up a broom and started cleaning up the debris.

“You know, just once, it would be nice for her to stick around to help with the clean up.”

****

Lance had just finished sending his report to head office when the doorbell rang. He opened the door and was tackled by two blurs of energy.

“Come on you two, don’t break Uncle Lance within the first two minutes.”

“Hey, I can take it,” Lance laughed. “How about you both pick a game on the gameflux?”

At that sentence, the two raced off to where the gameflux was set up.

“I swear that thing is 90% of the reason they like me babysitting,” Lance commented.

“Well, that and the fact you usually offer pizza,” Luis said. “So you okay? You’re developing a bit of a bruise.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lance replied. “The agent O.W.C.A. assigned to me just got a lucky hit in.”

“The compliment sucker punch?” Luis asked.

“Gets me every time.”

“You know, man, you really need to see about getting out of that franchise.”

“Eh…” Lance gave a non-committal shrug. “It’s not that bad. Besides, we both know it takes three million dollars to buy out of the place before the two years are up. I got into this mess. I can take the lumps to wait it out.”

“Just promise me you’ll stay safe.”

“Trust me it’s fine. Sure, that woman kicks my butt on a regular basis, but at least we’re keeping things professional.”

Luis rolled his eyes. “Only you would consider being punched in the face as professional.”

“Well, it kinda is her job to punch me in the face since I am technically trying to take over the city slash country slash world.”

“That sounds like the best job in the world.”

“Love you too, bro.”

With a quick hug, Luis left. 20 minutes after watching his niece and nephew screech at each other in Combat Cousins X, Lance heard the doorbell.

He answered the door. Standing there was Katie Holt, holding a couple of pizza boxes.

“Battle supplies as requested,” she said with a wink.

“Thanks, Katie. You're a lifesaver.”

“Oh please, considering the stuff I’ve seen you survive, you’re practically immortal,” Katie replied flippantly.

Lance scowled at her suspiciously. “What exactly have you seen me survive?”

“For starters, Charlene LeManche.”

“Objection withdrawn.”

Katie’s watch started vibrating.

“Excuse me.”

She stepped out onto the balcony. Satisfied that Lance had given her privacy, she activated her watch to see an image of Coran.

“Hope I’m not bothering, Agent P,” Coran said. “I just wanted to congratulate you another job well done.”

“Thanks, Coran. Though if you don’t mind, I’d better head back inside. Secret identity to maintain and all that.”

“Of course. Have a good night, Agent P.”

Katie hung up on Coran and went back inside. Tomorrow, she would probably be kicking Lance’s butt again, but she was perfectly satisfied with beating him at Pancake Dojo 2 whilst enjoying a slice of pepperoni pizza tonight.

****

It was Tuesday morning. Lance had finished his breakfast and was savouring the first sip of coffee. The blissful start was interrupted by the doorbell. He answered the door to find several men with crates.

“Morning, guys,” Lance said as he stepped aside to let the movers in.

After everything was moved into the open space “Evil Lair” area, Lance got to work opening first crate.

“Alright, let’s see what L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. cooked up for me today.”

Lance pulled out a letter from his superior. The latest device was something called the Vapourmatroninator. Apparently, there was a little extra assembly required.

After all the other crates were opened, Lance realised that that by “a little extra assembly”, they meant that this assemble would be bigger than a minivan, yet not a single piece was bigger than the palm of his hand.

“No worries. So long as the instructions are clear, I’ll just work through it piece by piece.”

Not only were the instructions incomprehensible, Lance wasn’t even sure that it was in English. After an hour of failing to make any headway, he picked up his phone.

“Hey Hunk, I need some help with building the latest world conquest machine… I know what I’m doing. It’s these instructions that make no sense...Look, can you come help me without making fun of me?...Alright, but can you still come or not?...Thanks, Hunk. You’re the best.”

****

Pidge kicked open the door to Lance McClain Evil Inc. at 4 p.m. on the dot.

She was ready to get her thwart on when she saw Hunk working on the device. He looked up to see Pidge standing there.

“Katie? What are you doing here?” Hunk asked. “And what are you wearing?”

Before Pidge could answer, Lance walked in.

“Hi Pidge, sorry I’m running a little behind so I had to call in some help.”

“Wait, this is Pidge?” Hunk asked in disbelief.

“Oh right, where are my manners?” Lance said. “Hunk, this is my nemesis Pidge. Pidge, this is my friend Hunk.”

“This is Pidge?” Hunk asked again. “As in the person that thwarts your plans daily.”

“Well, it's more of a Monday to Friday basis, gotta keep that work life balance, but yes. That’s her.” Lance answered “What’s your point?”

“Lance, that’s...argh!”

Hunk was interrupted by Pidge grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back.

“Shut up,” Pidge hissed to Hunk. “Play along and I’ll explain everything later.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, Pidge! Let him go this instant!” Lance scolded.

Pidge complied.

“Hunk doesn’t work for L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. He's just helping me out as a favour. Do whatever you want with me, but I will not have you attacking my friends!”

Pidge looked genuinely remorseful as Lance took out some money and handed it to her.

“Now you are going to say sorry to Hunk, and then you’re going to go the donut shop and pick up a dozen lemon cream-filled donuts with passionfruit sprinkles. When you get back, he should be done with the Inator and then you can thwart me.”

Pidge complied, sending Hunk one last pleading looking before heading out the door.

“Sorry about that,” Lance said to Hunk. “She honestly isn’t that bad, she’s just a little wound up at times.”

Hunk eyed Lance with utter astonishment.

“And she doesn’t remind you of anyone?” He pressed.

Lance paused thoughtfully.

“Now that you mention it, with that fedora, she kinda looks like Indiana Jones.”

“You think she looks like Indiana Jones?” Hunk asked, clearly not sure how to react.

“Kinda.”

“So when are you next due for an eye exam?”

“Next year, I think. Why?”

“Might want to move that forward.”

****

Pidge arrived with the donuts just as Hunk finished assembling the Inator. She handed them over Hunk he packed up his tools.

“Well, I better be out of your way,” he declared as he headed for the door with tools and donuts in tow.

“Leaving so soon?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, as much fun as it would be to watch you getting thwarted, I’d rather not watch the device I worked so hard on get destroyed.”

“Fair enough, catch ya later.”

Hunk shot Pidge a meaningful glance before leaving.

He hopped in the elevator and waited for the ding signalling the ground floor. Just as he exited the building, the Vapourmatroninator crashed onto the sidewalk, inches from his ears.

He could faintly hear Lance yell, “CURSE YOU, PIDGE THE PALADIN!”

****

A while later, Hunk and Pidge, in her civilian attire, were at Hunk’s favourite sandwich place. Only after he was halfway through his sandwich was he ready to address the elephant in the room.

“Alright, Katie, tell me what the heck is going on.”

“Okay.” Pidge took in a deep breath. “You remember that internship I took with a think tank? Well, that think tank is a secret government agency, and that internship is more of a field agent position.”

“So, who do you work for? The CIA?”

“No, I work for O.W.C.A., the Organisation Without a Cool Acronym.” Pidge watched Hunk raise an eyebrow. “Look, the name isn’t great, but they do good work.”

“And why exactly are you kicking Lance’s butt on a daily basis?”

“When Lance signed on to an employment contract with L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. that marked him as an ‘evil genius’, O.W.C.A. protocol is to assign an agent to be a nemesis to every evil genius. This was my first nemesis assignment, so the higher ups wanted to assign me to something lighter to chew on.”

“And the fact that you and Lance being friends isn’t against policy?”

“It would be if Lance recognised me,” Pidge explained. “I would get reassigned and he would get a new nemesis. I’ve been busting his scheme for nearly a year, and I thank whatever miracle that he still hasn’t worked out that I’m his nemesis.”

“How can he not know? All you do is put on a hat and glasses. You don’t even change your voice!”

“Look, are we really going to debate Lance’s intelligence? He has some strong suits, but he signed on to an evil organisation because their name was L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. And it took three weeks of being friends with him before he realised I was a girl.”

“To be fair, we were 12 at the time, but I see your point,” Hunk conceded. “But why stay as Lance’s nemesis? Franchise or not, you know Lance isn’t evil. Wouldn’t you rather spend your time taking down real bad guys?”

“Three reasons,” Pidge explained. “First, if I don’t do it, O.W.C.A. will send someone else, someone who will actually think he's evil. Second, Lance has been a surprisingly useful asset in undermining L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N.

Any tech that fails with Lance tends to get scrapped, so stopping Lance also prevents some of the actually dangerous tech from being used by actual evil geniuses.”

“And the third?”

“Being Lance’s nemesis means that my work day is usually done by 5 and I get weekends off. Nothing wrong with appreciating a good work/life balance.”

Hunk rolled his eyes at this. “Alright, so what happens now?”

“Well it’s up to you,” Pidge explained. “Standard procedure would be to take you in to have your memory erased.”

Hunk choked on a piece of sandwich. A long sip of his drink helped him to speak again.

“Erase my memory?”

“Just the events of today,” Pidge assured him. “But if you promised to keep this secret under wraps I could conveniently forget the part where you recognised me when I file my report.”

Hunk deliberated for a moment. “Alright, I don’t like keeping this from Lance, but I’m not risking forgetting my great aunt’s banoffee pie recipe over this.”

“Thanks Hunk,” Pidge said gratefully.

“Though if you ask me, the real reason you like this gig is because you get to spend all your time with Lance.” Hunk emphasised his statement with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

Pidge glared at Hunk. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

“That wasn’t a no,” Hunk singsonged.

Pidge was about to respond only to let out a cough.

“You alright?”

“It’s nothing,” Pidge replied.

****

Wednesday morning was somewhat easier for Lance. The day’s Inator came in mostly assembled. So now all he had to do was wait for Pidge to arrive.

An hour later still had no Pidge. He was starting to worry. Just then, his phone rang. He answered for only to have his ear fill with the noise of hacking.

“Hey Lance,” Katie said in between coughs. “Sorry I can't make game night.”

“Jeez Katie, you don’t sound good.”

“It’s fine, just gotta rest up and I’ll recover soon.” She let out more coughs.

After hanging up with his friend, Lance felt conflicting emotions swirling in his chest. He really wanted to check on Katie, but he was also meant to be trying to take over the city in time to get thwarted.

It certainly was a dilemma.

****

Allura the Altruist was on her way home from stopping her nemesis when she got a call from Coran.

“Great work, Agent A. Though would you stopping by Lance McClain Evil Inc? Agent P is not feeling well.”

“Right away, Coran.”

Flying her car over to Lance’s evil lair, she parked her car on the roof and dropped elegantly through the sky light, ready to battle. To her surprise, the lair was completely abandoned. She then noticed a large device in plain sight with a note attached.

Dear Pidge,

Sorry I can’t be there. Had to go check on a sick friend. I’ve marked out the self destruct button. See you tomorrow.

Lance McClain

P.S. Curse you, Pidge the Paladin!

Against her better judgement, Allura pressed the marked out button. As she left the ruins of the lair, she couldn’t help but wonder if O.W.C.A should reassess Lance’s threat level.

****

“Here you are, Katie,” Lance said as he carried in a steaming bowl of soup.

“Thank you,” the sick girl wheezed as she took the soup. “You didn’t have to come over to take care of me. Don’t you have work?”

“It's all good,” Lance said dismissively. “I’ve got it covered. Besides, I wouldn’t leave you hanging.”

Katie blushed. If asked, she would claim it was fever.

****

On Thursday, a recovered Pidge arrived at Lance McClain Evil Incorporated, refreshed and ready for a day of thwarting. She flew in through an open window. As she arrived in the lair, she realised Lance wasn’t there.

“Er...hello?”

“Pidge! I’ll be right there,” Lance called out before coughing.

A dishevelled and ill-looking Lance stepped into the lair. He was still in his pyjamas and his lab coat was crooked.

“What a...an unexpected sur…” Lance started coughing again. “Sorry, think I might’ve caught something from my friend.”

Pidge looked at Lance in dismay. “You should be in bed,” she scolded.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Lance insisted. “So, behold my… achoo!.... Latest invention the...Something...inator!”

Lance gestured towards a crate that was barely even opened.

“With this I...shall take over the...world.” Lance’s half-hearted speech was shot through with more coughing.

“Lance, seriously, go to bed. I can come back and stop you tomorrow.”

“No, I flaked on you yesterday. I’m not going to do it twice.” Lance raised his fists, staggering slightly as he fought to keep balance. “Thwart me if you dare.”

Rather than fight, Pidge took hold of his hand and dragged him to the kitchen. She pushed him into a chair and silently heated up a can of chicken soup. She plopped the bowl in front of him and said, “Eat.” After making him eat all of it, she hauled him to his bedroom. She took off his lab coat and pushed him into his bed.

“There,” she quipped as she draped a blanket over him. “I’ve thwarted you. Now get some rest.”

“Curse you Pidge the...zzzzz,” Lance was asleep before he was even able to finish his sentence.

Not too long after, Katie arrived to check up on Lance.

****

Friday came as Pidge arrived at the hideout.

“Ah Pidge the Paladin, so nice to see you,” Lance greeted. “Sorry about dropping the ball the last couple of days. Still, I promise to make up for it as I unleash my TRINITY OF TERROR!”

There was a dramatic orchestra and flashes of lightning.

“Head office finally approved your effects budget?” PIdge asked.

“Why yes, thank you for noticing. Anyhoo, behold! The Degravitinator!” Lance held out a handheld, ray-gun-looking device. “Capable of disrupting the personal gravity of its victims. Behold the Plantinator!” He gestured towards a device with a large antenna. “Capable of sending out a pulse that will cause all the plants in the city area to grow at an uncontrollable rate. And finally the DX7J.” He pointed to a large cubic machine. “Capable of...something equally evil, I guess.” He noticed Pidge’s raising eyebrow. “Cut me some slack, not only did I have to finish building yesterday’s device, head office sent me two inators instead of one today. It's a miracle I know what the first two do.”

“And you had time to set up the special effects?”

“Look, are we going to fight or waste time criticizing my workplace priorities?”

Lance jumped back just in time to dodge a right hook from Pidge. He aimed the ray gun at Pidge and fired. Pidge jumped out of the way, narrowing missing the purple ray that shot out. The ray instead hit a nearby couch. It glowed purple as it started to float. Lance continued firing at Pidge. The agent kept ducking until a desk, several crates and a metal barrel were floating.

“Darn it!” Lance muttered. “Why didn’t they put a decent sight on this thing?”

Pidge leapt onto a floating crate, hoping to get high ground. She leapt to another crate to avoid the ray. She finally lunged at Lance with a flying kick. The kick hit Lance squarely in the chest before he could let out another shot. He fell back to the ground and accidentally pulled the trigger.

A purple beam shot out and hit the Plantinator. The Inator started to float in the air. Seeing her opportunity, Pidge kicked with all her might. It flew out the open balcony door. It then came to a rest between the two buildings.

Both Lance and Pidge stared at the floating Inator.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure I was expecting,” Pidge admitted.

“Well, we can’t leave that out there,” Lance said. “Eventually, the ray will wear off, and it'll fall onto incoming traffic. I already got a citation for what happened with the Vapourmatroninator. I don’t need another.”

“Fair enough, any ideas?”

“Do you have your grappling gun?”

“In shop getting a tune up. You?”

“The winch on mine broke and I’m still waiting for the replacement to arrive. How about your hover car?”

“Came here on the moped today.”

“Fair enough.”

Lance turned a dial on the ray gun and aimed it at the floating Inator. He fired a red ray that vapourised the floating inator.

“That thing has a disintegrator setting?” Pidge asked in shock.

“Yeah, you really think that would be the main feature of this thing.”

“If it could do that, then why were you bothering with the gravity setting?”

“I’m not firing a disintegrator ray in my own lair,” Lance said indignantly.

“That’s surprisingly responsible of you.”

“Thank you.”

“Still got to destroy it.”

“Fair enough,” Lance replied as he turned the ray gun back to gravity mode.

Lance spun round, firing the ray gun at Pidge. Pidge dropped and sweeped out Lance’s legs, causing him fall flat on his back. “Nice move,” Lance said, winded but clearly impressed.

“Thanks.”

Pidge picked up the nearby raygun and smashed it against the handrail. She then started to head back inside to deal with the DX7J only for Lance to snatch her foot, tripping her up.

Lance scurried to place himself between Pidge and the DX7J.

What followed was another fist fight. Lance was holding his own until Pidge hit him with kick to the gut, knocking him backwards.

Lance bumped into the DX7J, turning it on. Sounds of moving parts and sloshing liquid echoed in the machine. Shortly afterwards, there was a loud ding and a small hatch on the device opened to reveal a cup of steaming liquid.

Curious, Lance picked up the cup and sniffed it. He then proceeded to take a sip, much to the panic of Pidge.

“False alarm,” Lance said. “This isn’t an Inator. It’s the coffee machine I ordered.”

“You ordered a coffee machine?”

“Yeah, and not just any coffee machine. This is top of the line, does everything from expressos to cappuccinos.”

“That sounds pricey.”

“I charged it to the head office,” Lance replied. “They’re an evil organisation trying to take over the world - the least they can do is fuel my caffeine addiction.” He proceeded to take another sip from his coffee.

Pidge nodded; she couldn’t really fault the logic.

“Wait, does that mean I already thwarted you?” She questioned.

Lance paused his drinking.

“Huh...I guess so...Oh well. CURSE YOU, PIDGE THE PALADIN!” He hollered before returning to his normal tone. “Do you want a coffee for the road? I’ve got a travel mug I can lend you.”

“Can that machine do a Chai Latte?”

Lance scoffed. “Do you honestly think I would charge my boss top dollar for a coffee machine that couldn’t do Chai Lattes?”

****

“So glad we managed to switch game night,” Lance said as he brought in a bowl of chips.

“I’m just glad neither of us are mucus factories anymore,” Pidge commented.

“I’m just glad I didn’t catch it,” Hunk commented. “So care to explain how all that stuff is floating?”

“Today’s evil invention was an antigravity ray.”

“Antigravity ray?” Hunk repeated in surprise. “How does that work?”

“I aimed the ray gun, pulled the trigger and then whatever got zapped with it would start floating.”

“No, I mean…” Hunk paused as the realisation of who he was talking to struck. “Nevermind.”

“I don’t get what the end game was,” Pidge commented “As cool as it is, I just don’t get how your bosses expected you to take over the world with an antigravity ray.”

“They don’t really look at how so much as they just throw whatever random idea that comes to them at me and wait to see what happens.” Lance explained. “I’m still not sure how I was supposed to take over the world with an iguana cannon.”

“Buddy, you really need to get out of this gig,” Hunk affirmed.

“Would love to, but we all know that’s not going to happen until my contract expires. Besides it's not so bad. I set my own hours, I don’t pay rent on this place and I now have a coffee machine. Speaking of coffee, you guys want one? It's pretty good.”

“I’m good,” Hunk said.

“Chai Latte, please,” Pidge requested absentmindedly.

Lance paused and stared at Pidge suspiciously.

“How do you know it can do Chai Lattes?”

“Would you honestly invest in a coffee machine that couldn’t do Chai Lattes?”

Lance let out a laugh.

“You got me there. One Chai Latte coming up."

As Lance went over to the coffee machine, Hunk turned to Pidge.

“You know, eventually, he is going to figure it out.”

“Agree to disagree,” Pidge replied as she watched Lance come back with her latte.

Lance handed to the latte to her. As she took a sip, Lance spoke.

“So guys, I’ve been wondering. Should I invite Pidge to join us for games night?”

PIdge did a spit take.

“Sorry,” she sputtered. “It’s a little hot.”

Hunk kept his composure.

“You want to invite the person whose job is to kick your butt on a daily basis to games night?”

“Alright firstly, I can hold my own just fine.”

“Have you ever stopped her from destroying your stuff?”

“Well, no, but that’s not the point,” Lance argued. “Neither of us take the whole thwarting thing personally, and she’s the closest thing I have to a work colleague that I actually like.”

“You like her?” Pidge asked, not really sure how to process this.

“Well sure, she’s skilled, self assured, witty and honestly kind of a badass,” Lance replied.

“She also wails on you almost every time you face off,” Hunk added.

“No one’s perfect,” Lance replied. “Come on, what could it hurt to ask her? If she says yes, it will be a chance to get to know her better.”

“If you feel so strongly, I think you should do it,” Pidge replied.

“What?” Hunk said in dismay.

“Great, next time I see her I’ll ask,” He looked down and realised his hands were empty. “Whoops, forgot my coffee.”

As he went to get it, Hunk turned back to Pidge.

“I know this week has been full of shocking revelations, but how do you plan to be two places at once?”

“I won’t have to,” Pidge replied. “I’ll simply say that O.W.C.A. forbids me from fraternising with supervillains outside of work.”

“You know that’s only going to be a temporary fix.”

“It will do for now,” Pidge replied. “I’ll cross that bridge when I reach it.”

“Yup,” Hunk replied. “Keep telling yourself that.”

#plance #plance au #plance mini bang #Lance #Pidge #Hunk #phineas and ferb #Lance being lance #bless him he is trying #flirtyrobot #Evil Genius Lance #Secret Agent Pidge

[neo-culture-taste]

Abeilles au Printemps - Ch 5b

Alternate Title: Bees in Spring  

Genre: AU, romance, drama, comedy, smut, who’s the daddy

Pairing: NCT x Y/N (fem)

Rating: Mostly mature themes/ language. Smutty chapters will be labeled 🐝.

Word Count: 8800+

For other chapters, see the masterlist.

Okay it’s here! The second half! And it’s heavy. A lot of emotions being thrown around in this one.

Due to the receptionist not being able to stay after hours for the testing party, Ten was tasked with the last minute paperwork, leaving Jaemin to do the majority of the tests. After leading Taeil to the examination room, Ten kept walking further down the hall. Once he was out of sight, you found yourself lifting away from the wall, your legs automatically taking you to the room to see Taeil.

From where he sat, Jaehyun was able to see you walk across the hall. And for that split second his mask of indifference wavered. Not pregnant you were quick to trigger but you held in most of your emotions. Now that you were pregnant, he was worried you would completely erupt and cause damage amongst the three of you that he'd be unable to restore.

You stopped once you made it in the doorway and saw Jaemin gloving up before getting the vial and needle ready. You didn’t think ahead about what you would do once you stood in front of Taeil again. But you were so ill at ease about the rising animosity between the two of you that you were functioning entirely on impulse.

“Would it be okay if I sat in?” you managed to ask, though barely above a whisper.

Jaemin smiled at you after tying the rubber band tourniquet around Taeil’s arm, and a nice blue vein rose to the surface. “Go ahead,  sweetheart. I’m sure they’d all love some alone time with you.” You couldn’t tell if his statement was his usual snark or if he was being genuine. And the two of you wouldn't technically be alone with the nosy nurse doing his business on Taeil’s arm. But you didn’t really care at this point. You would take whatever you could get.

Taeil didn’t look up from his arm, nor did he acknowledge your presence as you went to sit in the chair in the corner of the room. You fumbled with the hem of your floral maternity sundress, a gift from your mom after you threw a fit about not being able to fit your clothing anymore. You couldn’t even come up with the words you wanted to say to him. Honestly, what could you say to him? Should you say anything at all? Maybe he shouldn’t talk you--allowing him time to calm down a bit. You didn’t know if you could bear the pain in his eyes any longer and you just wanted to make things right before it spiraled even more out of control.

“When you told me you were Jaehyun’s cousin I panicked,” you explained, hoping he would accept your apology. “I should have admitted everything right then and there, but I didn’t know how. I’m sorry.” He remained silent as Jaemin removed the sterile needle from its packaging. “Taeil...please talk to me,” you pleaded, your voice beginning to shake. “Say some--“

Taeil finally looked at you, and only because he didn’t want to look at the needle about to pierce his skin. His eyes were swollen and red and just plain fed up. Looking into his eyes like that, you could feel your heart cracking.

“Are you going to marry him?” he asked suddenly. Although his voice was quivering out of hurt and fear, there was a clear edge to his words.

Your eyes widening, it felt as if time itself had stopped. His question was notably unexpected and had shaken you completely out of reality. “What?” you asked breathlessly.

“All done,” said Jaemin, dressing Taeil’s arm with gauze and a bandaid.

“Why do you think--“ you began, but Taeil cut you off.

“Nothing. Never mind.” Taeil quickly got up to leave before pausing in the doorway with his back facing you, turning his head slightly to speak. “Don’t call me. Don’t text me. And if you see me in your office building, please walk the other way.” And with that he was gone.

One of your hands flew to your chest and gripped at your skin. It was an attempt to hold your broken heart together from the outside. Instead, your hand was holding a different heart. Adorned on your chest was a specially customized heart shaped locket. You had worn it every day since receiving it, and it was gifted to you almost six months ago by none other than the man whose feelings you had just unintentionally ground into dust. When you realized what your hand was doing, you squeezed it tighter around the piece of jewelry as if it was actually going to break into pieces as well.

Jaemin expressed his sentiment with a look of pity as he sanitized the room and began setting up for his next patient. “I‘ll go get the next one,” he said once he was done. “Clean yourself up.” He handed you a box of tissues before walking out.

You hadn't noticed when you started crying. Hopefully the tears didn't fall until after Taeil had walked out. You dabbed your eyes carefully, making sure not to get any mascara in them, but then hurriedly wiped the rest of your face when you heard Jaemin's voice reapproaching.

“Right this way, Mr. Kim.” The attorney entered the room behind the nurse, immediately spotting you sitting in the corner. His face was set in a scowl, as per usual, but it wasn’t his regular stick up his ass expression. He was just as pissed as Taeil, if not more, stacked on top of years of bitterness and contempt for you. You could tell by the way his broad shoulders were locked with tension that he was ready to spit out the first damaging thing he could think to say to you. Obviously he didn’t notice the wreckage of your puffy eyes and mascara stained cheeks, otherwise he wouldn't have started his bullshit as soon as he walked in.

“Your face says you didn’t expect me to show up today,” Doyoung began. “But we both know I’m a thorough individual. Unlike some of the other people here today.” You couldn’t believe you ever loved this guy. He was never this mean or spiteful when you dated him. But if Taeil’s unprecedented attitude told you anything, it was that maybe you did have a way of ruining people. Maybe Doyoung acted the way he did towards you because you really did hurt him in the past. Maybe your brain had somehow manipulated your thinking that Doyoung pushed you away towards Taeyong--that actually you were the one distancing yourself away from him because you were too scared to commit. You did it to Taeil already, as well as Taeyong. You did it to Kun in the worst possible way, and you even tried to do it to Jaehyun. Were you actually the problem? Or were you all just idiots who needed to get over yourselves?

You shoved your thoughts to the side and dealt with the direct address from the rabbit in the room. Out of habit, you answered him with the same amount of venom he spat at you on the regular. “No. This is my ‘I hate your guts’ face reserved specifically for you. I knew you’d show up despite me revoking your invitation.” He scoffed while aggressively folding his sleeve upwards and exposing the perfectly pronounced vein. “Look, at this Jaemin. I have a nice, thick blue vein already waiting for you right here at the surface.” He swiveled his head back to you, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “Yeah? And what made you so sure?” You didn't have the energy to hate him to your full capacity at the moment, so you decided to mess with him a little bit. “Because you love me.” “What-OW!” He turned to Jaemin who looked back at him with a deadpan expression. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Jaemin said monotoned. “I seem to have missed the vein.” He gripped Doyoung’s arm tighter and angled his gaze at the older man as a warning to curb his attitude. “Hold still. And let me try again.” You pretended to scratch your nose to hide your smirk. Jaemin was turning out to be a good ally.

Doyoung rolled his eyes in irritation before speaking to you again. “As if. I can't fathom how you win so many cases when you can’t even read me right. Trust me, Y/N. Loving you again will never be something I’m guilty of.” He then turned to Jaemin who was still looking for a place to draw blood. “Why aren’t you done yet? I have places to be and clients to take care of.” “You won’t keep still like I asked—“ “Fine. Just hurry up. This place is stressing me out.” Both you and Jaemin exchanged a quick glance. His eyes read ‘I gotchu, girl’ and you gripped the armrests of your chair in anticipation of what the nurse was about to do. Jaemin then purposefully stabbed Doyoung roughly with the needle, causing a shrill yelp to emanate from his chest cavity. “Oh, you meant this large vein!” Doyoung was seething now as his blood quickly filled up the vial. Once Jaemin removed the needle, the rabbit quickly rolled down his sleeve and threw on his jacket, all while sputtering nonsense about sueing and having Jaemin permanently out of a job. You rolled your lips inward as you tried your hardest not to smile, and also by pretending the pattern on your sundress was the most interesting thing you’d ever seen in your life.

“You forgot your band aid--“ Doyoung quickly dismissed him. “I don’t need one. I’m out of here. Tell Ten he’ll be hearing from my law firm.” After he stormed out, Jaemin turned to you in bewilderment. “Did he have that stick up his ass when you slept with him?” Hm. So Jaemin could see the stick, too? You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah. But it didn’t reach up as high in his ass as it does now.” You then let out a sigh. “That probably wasn't a good idea. He actually will sue this place.” “No he won't,” said Jaemin matter-of-factly as he sanitized the room once again. “Because he definitely still loves you.” Well shit, you weren’t expecting him to say that. You had only meant what you said as a joke. Was Jaemin lying or did this outsider see something you couldn’t?

Before you could ask him why he thought that, Yuta waltzed in like he hung out in the clinic every other weekend. Despite all the verbal showdowns that had transpired in that evening already, he looked pleasantly unaffected.

“Alright! Stick me!” Yuta held out his arm as if he was already a pro at this mess. “As you know this isn’t my first paternity test. I’ve been through this four times already. You and the ex-wife are the only ones to have the test done this way instead of having the mouth swabbed.” “Well, she needs peace of mind of who the father is before the baby is born, which is why we’re doing it this way. And sit down!” Jaemin shoved Yuta into the chair by the shoulders. “You know I can’t do this standing up!” “Are you this rough with your normal female clientele?” Yuta asked pointedly, watching as Jaemin attached the needle to the vial. “Nope. Just clowns like you. Now hold still.”

Yuta let the nurse’s comment slide and turned to you. “How are you doing?”

That was a bit surprising. You only expected Jaehyun to care enough to ask you how you were feeling, but Yuta wasn’t like him or the others. He was more reliable than you often gave him credit for, and you didn’t want to admit that you were beginning to consider him as a top candidate in the baby daddy race.

“As one would expect me to be doing,” you answered him.

“You know, you remind me of my ex-wife.”

You took back every nice thing your brain had just said about him.  

“Apparently when the results came in, she was so mad I was the father that she lied to me about it, and then didn’t tell me until my mini me was about to be born. And then we got married like a month later.” “I knew this already, Yuta.” “I know. But nosy rosy over here didn’t. And I sense he loves gossip.”

Taking the comment, Jaemin feigned innocence by smiling sweetly at Yuta as he drew his blood.

Yuta’s nose scrunched up as he watched the last bit of blood flow into the vial. “Anyway, Y/N. Once you find out, you don’t have to marry the guy right away. You don’t have to marry him at all. But if you do decide to marry him, make sure you love him first and that he’s ready to commit to being your husband and a father. Otherwise, you’ll end up like me who didn’t sign a prenup and he takes half your money.” Even thought you knew all of that already, you still had to give him a little more credit. He actually did make sense sometimes. “Thank you, Yuta. I’ll keep that in mind. Good talk.” “My pleasure.” Once finished and bandaged, Yuta stood up to leave before turning to Jaemin. “Is that it?” “For now.” Jaemin pursed his lips and pointed toward a spot on the attorney’s neck. “But you got a lil’ funny looking mole right here.” “Oh, no. Is it bad?” Yuta asked as he reached for the spot frantically. Jaemin was about to respond with a smartass remark, but Ten walked in and shut down his playtime. “Will you stop diagnosing people?” He grabbed Yuta by the face to look at his neck before shaking his head. “He doesn’t even have anything there!” “I just wanted to have a little fun.” “Bye Yuta,” said Ten, practically pushing him out of the room. “Although I do have a feeling I’ll need to draw your blood again really soon.”

“Ha! Probably. Later, Y/N.” Yuta gave you a lazy backhanded wave. “Text me if you need anything. I might do it for you.” Calling him reliable was still definitely a stretch.

Walking out into the hall, Yuta was faced with Johnny standing right beside the door. “In a rush, bro?” “Yeah, I just want to get out of here really quickly. Don't know if I have a bad feeling or if I just feel bad.” It was probably both. Closing the door behind him, Yuta paused with his hand still on the knob. “Be gentle. She’s visibly upset even though she’s trying to hide it.” “Noted.” “Johnny, you can come in now,” called Ten from within the room. Yuta's warning of being nice to you escaped Johnny's hippocampus as soon as he laid eyes on you. He stood in the doorway, his frame taking up all the space as he gazed at your sullen form. Your face was a little puffy, as Yuta lead on, and your back was hunched into a slouch.And much like you earlier, even if he wanted to plan out what he was going to say, his mouth went ahead of his thoughts anyway. “How did you manage to sleep with all of us in the same time period to possibly impregnate you? You even slept with our accountant and...your brother’s friend?” “Johnny, sit.” Ten was annoyed. No one had anymore time for this foolishness. He pointed to the chair and tapped his foot as Johnny took a seat and rolled up his sleeve.

After a loud complaint from Doyoung, Ten was going to monitor Jaemin getting the rest of the samples from the remaining men, but Yuta popped his head back in and asked where the bathroom was. So Ten left the room once again to go show him where it was located.

After doing some thinking about the way he greeted you when you arrived at the clinic, you gave Johnny a pass to express himself in whatever way he needed to, whether it was nasty or nice. You hadn't had a true conversation with him since the day you told him you were pregnant. You noticed Johnny was like a pot of water on a stove. It took him awhile to process everything before he reached his boiling point and everything bubbled to the surface. And it seemed he was finally ready to talk to you now.

“I know it looks bad but…” “Looks bad?! I thought I was the player!” He appeared to be back to his normal self. That was a bit reassuring. You shook your head in disagreement. ”No, no. That’s still very much Yuta on a weekly basis. I simply went on a bender with old flames in a two week time period. And you messing around with me when you and your girlfriend are broken up doesn’t necessarily make you a player.”

Johnny looked away from you as he ran his free hand through his hair. “I guess you’re right.” He watched as Jaemin readied the needle then looked back at you in confusion. “So, why am I horny right now? Why does all this turn me on?”

Holy crap...you broke Johnny. Your mouth fell open in shock at the absolute absurdity of his words. He hadn’t talked to you properly for three whole months and after being an asshole for a few minutes, that was what he said to you? Jaemin chuckled and spoke under his breath, “I love my job.” “I’m sorry,” Johnny looked down at his lap as he apologized. “I’m just...I don't know. This is all just…a lot to deal with.”

You rubbed your hand down your face and took a deep breath, suddenly saddened all over again. If you couldn't already tell by the first few people that had their blood drawn, this whole situation had everyone involved messed up in some sort of way. Feelings were being muddled all across the board and you were at the center of it. Unfortunately you couldn’t control how everyone would react. No one could. Johnny peered over at Jaemin who was still snickering when a light bulb went off in his pretty head. “Do I know you from somewhere?” He asked the nurse. His eyes narrowed to get a better look at the young man's face. “I don’t know,” answered Jaemin. “Do you?” He smiled. There was something sinister about the way his lips curved at their corners. “You might.” Not being able to remember where he'd seen him, Johnny shook his head and got up right after Jaemin pulled the needle from his arm.

“At least let me put pressure on where I stuck you,” Jaemin half-wined.

Although unsanitary, Johnny took his thumb and did it himself. “I'm good. Bye Y/N. We’ll talk later. I think I'm okay now.” No he wasn't. Realizing he couldn’t quite open the door with one arm, Jaemin rolled his eyes and went over to do it for him. But before Jaemin could grasp the handle, the door swung open in front of them. “This is despicable,” said the shrill female voice opposite them at the door.

The color in Johnny’s face quickly drained away, the area from where he was stuck with the needle long forgotten as his hand fell to his side. “Babe?! What are you--“ “Shut it.” Jaemin leaned in close behind Johnny and whispered in his ear. “I guess you did recognize me after all.” Johnny's eyes grew wide in realization as Jaemin lifted his hand to point at Johnny’s girlfriend in the doorway. “Her best friend is my cousin. We met at her wedding. The wedding you were also at.”

You felt the hairs on your back stand up when she appeared. You had never formally met this woman. You had only seen pictures of her in Johnny’s phone and in a frame on his desk that you had occasionally knocked onto the floor as Johnny took you from behind. You never expected to meet her like this--or even meet her at all. She stomped forward, pushing Johnny further back into the room as she stabbed his chest with her finger. “Jaemin texted me as soon as your stupid ass entered the waiting room. I didn’t say anything when I found out you had slept with her again. We agreed on giving each other space, but I never agreed that you could go and knock her up, Johnny!” Getting the urge to defend your case in the matter, you felt your body standing up and wobbling to your feet. “Excuse me. But what exactly was the agreement?” His girlfriend’s eyes snapped on you like a viper that had just spotted its prey. “Oh. There’s the woman of the hour! If you weren’t pregnant I’d—” “Let’s go!” Johnny barked as he grabbed his girlfriend’s arm and yanked her out the room. Furious, you found yourself moving toward Jaemin then gripping the collar of his scrubs with both your hands. “What in the actual fuck?” And here you thought he was on your side! He had stabbed you in the back before you even had a chance to let your guard down. “I’m not sorry. She had the right to know,” he said with the nerve to roll his eyes at you. “Plus I’m a man of the theater. I live for drama!” Before you could verbally (or physically) assault him anymore, you felt a pair of cold hands pry you away from Jaemin's throat. “Y/n, stop.”

You peered at the face of the person not wanting you to commit murder. Oddly enough it was Taeyong's strong arms stopping you from doing it.

“No one knew who she was except Yuta, and she was already in the hallway by the time he and Ten saw her,” he answered before you could ask. “I’m sorry she got you so worked up.”

Taeyong helped you sit back down before taking his seat in the other chair. Jaemin, a little afraid for his life now, stood up and straightened out his clothing, then put on the professional demeanor that he had been lacking since this party started. “Put out your arm for me, sir.” Taeyong did as he was told. Although silent, you noticed the muscles in his cheek contracting as if he was dying to ask you something. You didn’t want to talk to anyone anymore about anything. So you hoped he would remain silent until he was finished.

Originally you had been against Taeyong possibly being the father of your child. However, after speaking with him, your opinion of him had changed in his favor. He had gotten his life together, started a business, and was no longer involved in the types of things that could possibly put you and your daughter in danger. Sure he was quick to temper and had a tendency to speak with his fists rather than words, but he would never do anything to hurt you. And you trusted that he would rid himself of all his bad habits in order to give you and your daughter a happy life.

“All done.” Jaemin applied the band aid and Taeyong stood up. But like Taeil, the silent ones always had to stop at the door. This made you very uneasy.

“I guess I was right this whole time. I really am not good enough for you.” You heard the loud shattering of glass but didn’t see any on the floor, which only meant it was your heart breaking into a million pieces once again. You hadn’t seen him walk away but there was no longer a sulking figure standing in the doorway. You deserved to feel more than heartbroken with the way you had denied his feelings for you for so long, but still used them against him for your own selfish desires. Wasn't this what you originally wanted? For him to finally give up on you? Had you expected it to feel any less shittier? Jaemin couldn’t resist himself and gave his unwanted opinion. “Aww. Why don’t you love him?” You turned your head to the side and bit your cheek to stifle any tears that threatened to fall before snapping back to Jaemin. ”It's complicated. Just mind your damn business and do your damn job. Actually. Ten?!” You shouted for the doctor, wanting your best friend to come and save you from his messy nurse. “Love, this is after hours and I’m not even getting paid for this. So, you’ll be done with me soon enough. I’ll go get him for you.” He cleaned up the room once again before heading out to find his boss.

The last person to get tested was ushered in by Ten, who was beyond annoyed he had to babysit his nurse for bad behavior. But boy were you glad to see the man he brought with him. Jaehyun looked just as chipper as he did when you first arrived. You found it hard to believe he was unaffected by the other gentleman present today, especially Taeil, but you assumed he kept up the facade just for you. It had to be is amazing acting skills at work, and in actuality he was a huge wreck on the inside. Leave it to Jaehyun to be strong for you even when you couldn’t do it for yourself. If anyone who didn't know you saw the two of you on the street (and not in a disguise), they would think he was your husband. That was the way he treated you, constantly and always in front of others. The way he acted towards you in private was the same but maybe even more affectionate if that was even possible. Had the thought ever crossed your mind...to be Mrs. Jung? Yes. But you would never tell him that. You'd never tell anyone that. Walking passed the chair he was supposed to sit in, he crouched down in front of you and grabbed your hands. “How are you feeling?” His heartening visage quickly turned into one of urgency as he reached up to swipe a tear that had fallen down the side of your cheek. “You’ve been crying. Hey, Ten. Can we have a minute?” “Umm, yeah. C’mon Jaemin.” The two of them stepped out leaving you and Jaehyun alone. But before he was completely out of the room, you heard Ten whisper, “Did he just kick me out of my own examination room?” before shutting the door. Jaehyun stood to give you a gentle kiss on the cheek he had just wiped before grabbing the chair and positioning it in front of you. “Talk to me, baby. Everything okay? And don’t bother lying, because your face says it all.” You bit your lip and sat up straight, trying to be confident in the lie you were indeed about to tell despite his warning. “Yeah...” “Y/N...” “What?” He cupped your cheeks in his hands and softly brushed his thumbs back and forth upon them. “No, really. How are you? It was pretty intense out there. I’ll admit it was intense even for me.” You fumbled with the hem of your dress again, shying your eyes away from his as you sighed. “It went as I expected it to go. Lots of words thrown back and forth and borderline physical fights. Except I didn’t expect Johnny’s girlfriend to show up. That was unpredictable.” “Well, she walked in and threw her purse down on a chair before confidently asking for John’s whereabouts. Hands or her hips and everything. She didn’t even wait for a response before finding the hallway. I knew right then it was about to be a huge mess.” He then mimicked the way she did her grand entrance which made you laugh a little. “Is that a smile?” You reverted but not completely. “Stop, Jaehyun.” “Alright, alright.” He reached for you hands again and hesitated on whether he should tell you the next thing. “Y/N. I don’t mean to be another thorn in your side, but I met several heartbroken, betrayed, and confused gentlemen today.” You squeezed his hands before letting your head fall back roughly against the wall behind you. “Yeah, I know. And you’re one of them. “In some sort of fashion I am. But I’m still here aren’t I? How many times do I have to keep telling you that I’m here for you no matter what?” Ugh. You had had enough. You had had enough of everything that happened to you today, enough of your freaking pregnancy hormones and symptoms, and enough of Jaehyun constantly reminding you how good of a person he was even when he didn't intend to do so.

“I know Jaehyun. Can we not do this today though?” You didn't mean to get snippy with him, but you were tired. You were tired and you just wanted to go home and go to bed. “I know you’re here for me through thick and thin, and you want to buy me any and everything, and take care of me forever and whatnot. But you can’t undo the pain I just inflicted on a lifelong friend or the damage I caused to someone’s self worth.” Jaehyun raised his eyebrow. “Are you talking about Taeil?” You didn’t answer him. He didn’t need to know your heart was swayed by two people today you had originally thought were deemed as non factors. And you didn’t have to, because he immediately dropped the subject and nodded his head. “I’ll go get Ten now.” He gently let go of your hands and opened the door to find Ten and Jaemin standing closely to it, most likely having eavesdropped on your entire conversation. Jaemin went to glove up when he excitedly turned to you and pointed to his ring finger, silently asking you if wedding bells were in the near future. Jaehyun felt the wind from Jaemin’s movements as he was returning the chair to its original place, and the nurse quickly put his hands down like a child who was trying not to get caught for sticking his hands in the cookie jar when the actor turned to look at him. “Can you roll up your sleeve for me please?” asked Jaemin as he approached Jaehyun with the alcohol swab. “Actually, I would prefer if Dr. Lee drew my blood.” A little offended, Jaemin pulled back. “May I ask why? The doc already said I have the best tech--“ “I have a really good lawyer,” he nodded towards you, “who would sue both you and Dr. Lee if my blood ended up anywhere besides the designated place for DNA testing. It’s nothing personal.” Jaemin mulled it over for a moment. He had already proven himself to be a snake. He was indeed the type of person to do that. “Very well then.” He stepped aside while Ten begrudgingly washed his hands in the room's sink. He had hoped he was done working for the day. Ten got everything ready and soon had the needle positioned close to Jaehyun’s vein. “Listen here, movie star. I don’t care who you are, but you will not threaten me in my own office.” He pierced Jaehyun’s skin and they both watched as the blood started to fill the vial. “Your lawyer may be sitting right there, but she’s also the reason your blood is now in my custody.” “Ten!” you cried. Literally everyone was taking shots at you today. Jaehyun glared at the blood flowing from his arm and into the vile. “Touché.”

Once Ten was finished, Jaemin administered the gauze and band aid. Jaehyun got up from the chair to help you out of yours, and he held your hand as he led you back towards the lobby. Surprisingly, but not completely unexpected, Yuta was still sitting there talking to your brother and Lucas, the latter of whom looked like he was eager to take notes from the casanova. “My son had soccer practice at his school today. He’s in the league for little kids. Man does he love that sport. He gets it from me. I was sort of an athletic legend back in the day.” Yuta paused briefly to look at his wristwatch. “I should get going to pick him up, though. One time I completely forgot about him because I was too busy getting it on with your sis—“ “YUTA!” You couldn’t have come out at the worst possible second. You remembered that day and was very upset that you had kept him away from his son. That was one of the reasons why you only hooked up with him a couple of times. He had a more pressing obligation than getting his dick wet.

Your brother just stared at you, his soul seemingly gone from his eyes.

Damn, you really wanted this day to be over. “Everyone please leave,” said Ten before whispering in your ear. “I’ll have your results in three weeks. Stay strong until then.” You took a deep breath and nodded your head and let Jaehyun guide you the rest of the way outside. “Do you want me to take you home?” asked the actor. “Or do you want to relax at my house? I’ll rub your feet and cook you dinner. Well, I’ll cook you dinner first and then rub your feet.” You both chuckled, but then your smile waned when you felt Mark come to stand next to you with a different aura than when he first met Jaehyun earlier that evening. He too was done with today, and just wanted to regroup at home. You didn’t deserve your little brother sometimes. “My brother can handle it.” “Awesome,” Jaehyun said a little disappointed. “I’ll call you tonight. Get her home safely, Mark.” You saw him hesitate, and after reading his mind you grabbed his cheek and lowered his face to give him what he wanted. He got on your nerves towards the end, but he still wanted to respect your space. You were about to plant the kiss on his lips when you heard the loud slam of a car door resonate throughout the lot. “WHERE IS SHE?!”

Oh? You thought the evening couldn't get anymore worse? Ha! Who were you to be so lucky? You would have already left the parking lot if it weren’t for Jaehyun and his dumb lips.

Your head snapped to the area of where the voice was coming and you felt your blood begin to simmer.

It was freaking Kun of all people. Yuta barely said a coherent goodbye as he ran for his car and got the hell out of Dodge, nearly side swiping the taxi Kun just stumbled out of.

Mark leapt from your side to walk towards Kun, his, hands coming into contact with the older man's chest. “Calm down, man. Now is not the time—Dude, how much did you have to drink?! The whole bar?! You reek!”

Jaemin tapped Ten on his arm. “I know that look. Is that the one she cheated on?” Ten shook him off to join Lucas and Mark as the three of them tried to form a barrier between you and Kun. Frustrated with no answer, the nurse yelled, “Is that a yes?” ”Jaemin, go home!” commanded ten. “This does not concern you!” Jaemin rolled his eyes and turned on his heels to go back inside the clinic. Kun lurched forward trying to break through the human barricade and caused you to flinch. How the hell did he even find out about the testings? You hadn’t seen or talked to him since he and Taeyong were arrested. His face now was just as angry as that night but worse in his drunken stupor. You quickly began to feel awful again, blaming yourself for being the type of person to drive someone like Kun to get shitfaced before the sun even had a chance to go down. You seemed to drive all your ex's into insanity.

“Y/N, I’ll take you to my place after all.” You felt Jaehyun wrap his arm around your waist and pulled to guide you to his car.

“No!” yelled Kun. “Don't run away! I have something to say!” “Jaehyun...” Your hand immediately went to your belly, a silent apology to your little girl for the stress you had caused her all evening. The faster you got away from Kun, the faster you could put this whole fiasco out of your mind.

Finally making it to Jaehyun’s shiny black, and terribly expensive vehicle, you heard the frantic steps of someone running towards the mess you were running away from. Jaehyun opened the passenger side door beckoning you to get in when you turned to see WinWin trying to catch his breath while bent over with both hands on his knees. “Y/N...” warned Jaehyun. “Hush for a minute!”

Jaehyun threw his head back in exasperation. “Woman, if you stay this is only going stress you out even more, and I’m just trying to be patient with you.” Oh? Was Mr. Calm and Collected finally losing his cool? You just simply shushed him again. “I tried to stop him!” cried WinWin as he panted. Since when was he so out of shape? “I really--Ahuurgh Urgh ack--did!” Ten kicked Kun in the shin to knock him down to the ground, allowing Mark and Lucas to apprehend him better, before getting close to WinWin's face. “But you didn't try to stop your mouth from telling him, now did you?” Ten kicked Kun again for good measure. “OW! Stop! Stop kicking me! Let me go! I want to speak to her!” Ten kicked Kun again anyway. “That one’s for showing up to my practice drunk and uninvited!” He turned back to WinWin. “I’m about to kick your ass, too!” Shoes scratching against the concrete, WinWin quickly scooted backwards with his hands up in surrender. “I thought he had the right to know!” Ten’s eyes tripled their size in his head. “For what?! He didn’t father her child!” Kun, arrested and unable to wiggle under Mark and Lucas’s grip, let his head fall to the pavement. “No, I didn’t! But that’s because she told me we couldn’t have sex!” You felt your blood full on boiling now. Kun had the audacity to show up uninvited and talk about the nonexistent sex life shared between the two of you? Oh hell no. The pent up aggression for Kun you pushed aside for so long had finally come up, and it guided your feet towards him. Shoving Jaehyun to the side, you were ready to pounce, but he quickly grabbed your arm to slow you down. You gave him one look and he let go, quickly deciding to let you do whatever it was you needed to do. Mark and Lucas pulled Kun up into a sitting position so you could talk to him properly without Lucas’ knee in his back. “How dare you! You’re actually upset because we never had sex?” You sneered. “Do you actually want to be a part of this commotion? You want to be lucky number seven, hm? Is that it?” “No! I don't want to be your kid’s father! I’m mad because I didn’t even get the chance--“ “The chance?! You have got to be kidding me.” You were mad mad now. “We agreed from the beginning that our relationship would not be based on just sex. But towards the end, I needed that intimacy. I craved it. And I know you did, too. So I tried to move our relationship to the next level. But how’d you respond? By doing absolutely nothing! Even when I actively baited you by buying expensive lingerie in your three favorite colors. Not one, but three colors. And other stuff I don't feel like listing. But you still didn’t want me!” Kun gawked at you in disbelief. “Are you hearing yourself right now, Y/N? Because it’s absolutely fucked up! Why would I turn you away? You’re gorgeous! I have a dental degree, so I’m not stupid enough to do that. I thought you were just testing me!” Your nostrils flared as you inhaled.  “Well I wasn’t! Why would I waste my time putting in the effort and energy of seducing you just to test you? You’re insane!” Kun scowled and huffed out an angry laugh. “I’m insane? Oh, darling please. Look at what’s going on right now. Your brother and his roommate are holding me down like a criminal because they think I might hurt you. That’s offensive, yet ironic because you were the one that actually hurt me. And how did you hurt me? By sleeping with six other dudes while I was away at a conference. Who the hell had I been dating for 18 months? Because you are not the woman I fell in love with!” Oof, all of that stung. It was all of your wrong doings being thrown in your face by the person you hurt with your wrongdoings. It hurt you to hear it. But you weren't going to let this loser know that and have the upper hand in this petty argument.

You lifted your chin in opposition. “News flash, Dr. Qian! You were dating a lawyer. I turn cutthroat in a heartbeat.” “Don’t use that as an excuse,” he spat. “There are plenty of lawyers out there who are decent human beings. But you, Ms. Y/N, are far from one of them.” “Fuck you,” you hissed. “I wouldn’t now even if you paid me.” Absolutely infuriated by your ex-boyfriend’s words, you began to breath in and out rapidly, your face turning a ferocious in your fury. Jaehyun grabbed you by both your shoulders and held you from behind. “Y/N. You’ve said enough now let’s go.” So now he wanted to show up by your side? Even though you pushed him away, maybe you wouldn't feel as homicidal as you did now if he would have decided to step in sooner. “Get off me, Jaehyun. I’m not done with this asshole.”

“Y/N, please--” Ignoring Jaehyun, you continued to quarrel with your ex-boyfriend. “If I’m so gorgeous, why could you never get it up for me? Even when I wore extremely revealing outfits, you never had any type of carnal reaction.” Kun’s face fell a little when your face darkened in realization and you started to laugh incredulously. “Oh, this is golden! Were you even remotely attracted to me!?” A gasp was heard coming from the direction of the clinic's doors followed by the harsh whispering of the same voice saying, “The plot thickens!” Apparently, Jaemin had never left.

Ten whipped around from where he stood and shot daggers at his out of line employee. “Jaemin if you don’t go the fuck home!” Conversationally backed into a corner, Kun began to stammer. “N-Now look here--“ “No, you look here, Kun,” you demanded.  You were never sexually attracted to me. We shared your apartment for all that time and you never once thought about having sex with me, did you?” He looked at the ground as if the words he was searching for were scattered at his feet. His silent confirmation floored you, your pride taking a massive amount of damage. “I saw it as you simply respecting my wishes to not do it so early on in the relationship, but it was actually because you didn't want to have sex with me at all. Me trying to test you was a lie, too! I get it now! You were only dating me because of my social status!” Realization suddenly hitting him with your statement, Ten shook his head in anger. “You asswipe! That’s why you were so adamant about me introducing her to you! You were trying to build your clientele!”

You faltered a bit in your stance, leaning back into Jaehyun as he held you steady. Despite your attitude with him the past twenty minutes you were grateful he was still there. Kun was still floundering for words and looked to WinWin for support. WinWin turned away from him and looked off into the distance. “Were you ever really in love with me?” Kun opened his mouth to answer, but you cut him off. “Don’t lie to me.” Feeling Kun's shoulders slump, your brother and Lucas loosened their grip on him, and he was able to relax his arms at his sides. “Yes...in theory.” Kun sounded reluctant in his answer, and his face showed obstinance amongst the anger. “But were you ever truly in love with me?” His question made you snap. This dumbass just asked you this dumbass question and made all of your emotions boil over at once. “Yes! I was! I wanted it to work! I wanted it to work with you! I just wanted something to work for once!” You felt Jaehyun embrace your shoulders. You let yourself completely be held up by him as your own legs were too shaky to hold up you and your unborn passenger anymore.

“I changed my entire way of life just to be with you all because I wanted something functional!” No, no, no. Fuck. Your voice cracked. You didn't want to cry again, especially in front of Kun. You didn't want cry in front of anyone standing there with you. “I wanted something real. Something stable. No doubts about each other’s feelings or disagreements about our future. Just love and understanding all across the board. But all this time you were the one playing games.”

You then felt Jaehyun enclose his arms around your bump and place his head in the crook of your neck. The sensation was incredibly odd. You were admitting your deepest and most kept feelings and desires to your past partner while your current partner gave it to you with a simple touch. It felt all kinds of wrong. You knew Jaehyun was holding you to calm you down. And you knew he had his hands on your belly to remind you of exactly why you needed to calm down. But it just didn't feel fair because of the turn of events that brought you into this position.

You paused to catch your breath and choke back a sob. “Tell me, Kun. Did you really go to a conference for those two months you were away?” Before Kun could answer WinWin spoke up. “No. He wasn’t.” Everyone was the pikachu meme.

Kun managed to escape to his feet while his captors were in a stupor. “Why would you say that?! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Ten rolled his eyes at Kun's ridiculous statement. “Spill it WinWin.” The man addressed shook his head and ran a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. “Kun. I can’t lie for you anymore. It’s too hard to be friends with people on opposite sides. Especially if they just keep hurting one another. I can’t do this anymore.” Without another word WinWin turned on his heels and walked away and out of the parking lot. The quick escalation and brute conclusion of this whole episode angered Mark to the point that he shoved Kun up against the side of your car. “Mark!” you cried, but your reaction fell on deaf ears. You had never seen your brother this upset. He shouldn't be involved in all this. You didn't know how much more your heart could take, but you know seeing Mark like that brought you close to the end. “You show up unannounced, drunk off your ass, upset my sister, and we find out you were a liar this whole time, too? Where the hell were you then, Kun?” Averting his eyes, Kun answered him. “I don’t have to answer that question.” Ten saw you about to protest, but the look of exhaustion wearing heavy on your visage made him throw his hands in the air. “That’s it! Enough! Kun! Get off my property before I call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing. Lucas, walk with him to the corner and call him a taxi.”

Giving you another heated glance, Kun pushed Mark off him and begrudgingly followed Lucas to the street. Watching them walk away, Ten stepped in front of you authoritatively and ripped Jaehyun’s arms from around you. “Hey!” cried Jaehyun, stumbling backwards. “Shut it, pretty boy.” Ten grabbed your shoulders and forced you to look at him. “By doctors orders, I hereby forbid you to see any of these men for three weeks. I’m going to tell them not to talk to you, not to text you, they’re not even allowed to think about you!” “Ten, that’s unnecessary,” you retorted. But he wasn't having any more of your shit. “Shut up! I’m the doctor! Mark! Take your sister away!” Mark soared to your side in a second and grabbed your hand, leading you to the passenger side of your car. “Lucas is dealing with Kun, Ten will take care of Jaehyun, and we need to go home and take care of each other. Now, get in the car.”

“I’ll call you!” Jaehyun yelled after you. After being shoved into the passenger seat, you watched Ten yank Jaehyun all the way back to the front door of the clinic. You knew he was about to get scolded by Ten. But there was nothing you could do to save him as Mark pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive back to his apartment.

“You will not call her.” Ten chided the movie star. “I’m the only one she can rely--“ “No! She can rely on Mark, myself, and Haechan. Even Lucas if he can stop undressing her with his eyes for one second. But you? No. Your dreamy eyes, beautiful hair, tall stature, and fat wallet are a terrible distraction to her right now.” “The last thing I want to do is distract her.” “I know you mean well, Jaehyun. But you have been glued to her side ever since you found out she was pregnant. It's no secret to me that you love her. It’s evident in every manner you interact with her. But from what I can tell, you are also suffocating her! But she’s so messed up right now that she won’t tell you.” Jaehyun was silent and a slight pout made itself present on his face. “She’s doesn’t need the perfect boyfriend right now. She needs alone time without you buffoons spitting fire at her and one another. Now, I’m team Jaehyun.” The actor perked up at the revelation of having an ally. “But I’m first and foremost team Y/N. So, If you want to give her the world, which I know you so badly want to, then start by giving her space.” Not satisfied with Ten’s lecture, Jaehyun pleaded his case. “I have given her nothing but space for almost two years!” “Goodbye, Jaehyun! Get off my property or I’ll call the police on you, too.” Ten turned to go back inside the clinic only to find Jaemin still standing there. “Dammit, Jaemin!” The young nurse responded with a chuckle. “Sorry.” Before Ten could go inside, the three gentlemen heard a rustling in the bushes by the fence at the edge of the lot. “What was that?” asked Jaehyun, particularly alarmed. “It was the wind telling you to go home!” yelled Ten. “Right...” Jaehyun cocked his eyebrow not convinced, but his one-track mind prevented him from checking. “Before I leave though, Jaemin, I have a stack of non disclosure agreements here with your name on it.” He pulled the rolled up papers out of his back pocket and held them out towards the nurse. Ten rolled his eyes. “Don’t forget to pick up the ones from the other gentlemen. Doyoung almost didn’t sign his.”

“Doyoung is a tool.” Forgetting that he had just told Jaehyun to get off his property, Ten held the door open and ushered him and his nurse inside the clinic. There was more rustling in the bushes and the sound of rocks being stepped on, as well as a loud slurp through a straw in a plastic cup. “That was the worse verbal disagreement I have ever witnessed in my entire life. I just wanted my umbrella--“ The voice heard an additional noise to their rustling and saw a figure quickly dart across the parking lot. Curious, they followed to see a dark vehicle quickly drive away from the other side of the street.

“License plate TCN721.” They recorded the plate in their photographic memory. Turning to leave, there was a crunch under their feet that didn't have the distinct sound that leaves normally would. Instead, it was a print of a photograph. “What do we have here?” They said as they picked it up and turned it over, gasping at the picture in their hands and noticing the time stamp in the corner. “Well, well, well, Kun. I didn't know a dental conference required you to put your tongue in another woman’s mouth.”

For other chapters, see the masterlist.

Whoo~ That was a lot to take in. Next chapter is more light-hearted. But until then...how about some 🐝?

- C&D

#nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct smut #smut nct #taeyong #johnny #yuta #jaehyun #taeil #doyoung #lucas #kun #nct 127 smut #nct u smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fic #jaehyun smut #yuta smut #johnny smut #taeyong smut #doyoung smut #taeil smut #bees in spring #abeilles au printemps

[rhinozilla]

Whumptober Day 20: Trembling

Summary:  It's Tina's turn to keep Connor company at the facility while his damaged thermal regulator is undergoing repairs. They're both tired and just want this to be over.

--

The damage to Connor’s thermal regulator had been…well, the technician had described it as “catastrophic,” which…wasn’t a word anybody wanted to hear.

The upside was that it could be repaired.

The downside was that they had to remove it in order to perform the repairs.

No thermal regulator meant he wasn’t…regulating his…thermals…whatever, he was in a state of perpetual overheating. That was the gist that had been communicated to Tina through the game of telephone that the squad had been playing every time they changed shifts sitting with him at the facility. She was currently well into hour two of her turn, but mercifully he’d been in rest mode for most of it.

Without the regulator keeping his internal temperature in check, the facility had had to resort to dumping him in an ice bath about three hours ago. Tina could see the temperature of the water on the monitor screen mounted to the wall of his private patient room…It was fucking cold. The monitors also showed his internal temperature and his stress levels…both too high.

Tina shifted in her seat, and the cheap, rubbery cushions of the chair creaked. She was barely sitting on it anyway, perched on the edge and leaning forward with her arms folded on the wall of the tub that they’d dunked Connor into. Only his head and shoulders weren’t submerged in the slushy icy water, but cold compresses were being routinely replaced over his forehead and the underside of his neck where his head was resting on the lip of the tub. At some point in his sleep, he had turned his head toward her, enough to unbalance the compress on his forehead. He was twitching every so often, like his body was trying to figure out how to shiver in response to the cold.

The monitors on the wall had all kinds of charts with squiggly lines tracking the activity in his cranial processor. If she had to guess, between the twitching and the half formed words mumbling mutely past his lips, she’d say he was dreaming.

Huh, an android dreaming.

“What do you guys dream about?” she asked softly, lifting one hand and lightly flicking that rogue lock of hair hanging over his forehead. “For some reason, I’m picturing a Pacman arcade game.”

Connor’s eyes remained closed, his LED a sluggish yellow, but his brow was furrowed as he slept on. Tina propped her chin on her forearm, her other hand brushing that little sprig of hair back and forth, back and forth. She eventually started to gently curl it around her finger, loosening it only to curl it again.

“Like…you’re just om-nom-nomming through this grid, but instead of yellow balls it’s like…coins…because of your whole coin thing. Maybe instead of fruit, there’s…thirium juice boxes or something…Would the ghosts be…criminals?” She snorted and took her hand back, rubbing at her face. “God, what am I even saying? Sorry, I’m tired, bud.”

At the removal of her touch, Connor’s expression tightened further, and he made a low noise of distress. Tina replaced her hand on the top of his head, gently working her fingers through his hair.

“Take it easy. I’m not going anywhere. You’re…You’re not alone.”

Wilson had been on shift before Tina, and he had warned her that as time went on, Connor had been needing more interaction to keep his stress levels in control: talking to him, touching him, just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone. Wilson could be intuitive like that in a way that Tina didn’t think she herself was. This twitching and mumbling just looked like bad dreams to her.

The monitor made a low, singular beep, and Tina looked up in time to see one of the squiggly lines noting his brain activity starting to climb. He was waking up?

Her hypothesis was confirmed as, moments later, Connor’s feeble shifting became more purposeful, and his eyelids started to flutter. Tina left her hand on his head, bringing her other hand around to rest on his bare shoulder.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “Connor, you waking up?”

His expression pinched, and his eyes opened to half mast, blinking blearily. Tina tried to be patient as his glassy gaze roamed around before landing on her. She offered a smile as she waited for his higher functions to fully come online.

“Tina,” he exhaled the word.

She gently ruffled her fingers through his hair. “Yep.”

He tilted his head closer to her hand, seeking out more contact. He closed his eyes and frowned, making a low, pitiful noise in his throat.

“Cold.” His voice was soft and hoarse.

“I know. Sorry, bud. You took damage to your thermal regulator, remember?”

He opened his eyes again, visibly struggling to remember. “There was…a van…”

“Yeah,” she affirmed, noting that he seemed to be getting exhausted by the simple act of being awake. “Hey, you don’t need to talk or do anything. Save your energy. You don’t want to overheat even more than you already are.”

He hummed at that, and shortly after started to make a quiet clicking noise.

Tina blinked and straightened up a bit, glancing him up and down but not seeing anything happening to make that sound. She tilted her head toward the tub to get a better look at his face, and she spotted the cause of the effect.

His teeth were chattering.

“Oh Connor,” she chuckled. “I’m so sorry, dude…”

“Hurts.”

“Hurts?” She curled and uncurled her fingers through his hair again. “What hurts?”

“Cold.” He started to shiver.

An android who dreamed, shivered, and whose teeth chattered in the cold. Tina had well and truly seen everything now. The mild trembling created little ripples in the cold water, and her chest tightened with sympathy.

“I know,” she said, as soothingly as she could. “They’ve been working on repairs for hours now. They gotta be getting close to done—“

“I want out.”

Tina sighed. “Connor—“

“I want—“ He looked at her pleadingly and shifted, trying to get his arms to cooperate so that he could push himself upright out of the water. “I want out—Please—“

“Hey—“ She carefully grabbed his shoulders, trying to hold him down. “You’re overheating—“

“Please let me out…” His words were starting to slur, but where enunciation was leaving, panic was starting to come in strong. “P-Please…I don’t…There’s…Let me…”

Tina stood up and leaned forward, scooping an arm under the back of his neck to support his head as he failed to shakily push himself up. She reached down and found his hand submerged in the water, and she twined her fingers through his. The icy temperature of the water stabbed at her skin like knives, but she felt his heated fingers wrap around hers and hold on tight.

“Shh, shh, shh,” she whispered. “You’re okay. I know it hurts, but it’s helping you.”

The tired, reluctant noise that slipped out of him was near enough to be called a whimper, and he continued to tremble in her hold. Now that she was within reach, he was trying to move closer to her, deliriously seeking out the warmth of her. Maybe a stronger person could have resisted that, but Tina guessed she was just a fucking weak asshole then.

She let go of his hand in order to wrap her other arm around his shoulders. Her sleeves were dipping into the cold water, but she didn’t care as she held her cheek against the crown of his head, giving him a gentle squish of a hug.

God, the shivering was stabbing her right in the heart.

She used her palm to swipe his hair from his forehead and then pressed a firm kiss to the skin at his temple. He felt too warm, and the trembling abruptly went still. Tina lifted up and looked down at him. His eyes were closed, and his lips were parted slightly, like he’d given up halfway through trying to speak. Nothing on the monitors was sending up an alarm, and it looked like he’d just passed out again. That was probably for the best.

With a sigh, she carefully withdrew her arm from under his neck, lowering his head to rest against the wall of the tub again. She picked up the compress that had fallen away, straightening it out and setting it over his forehead.

Yeah, so her sleeves were soaked and cold now, and she grumbled to herself as she unbuttoned and removed the shirt, leaving her in just the grey tank top she wore under it. Her eyes burned a bit, and she sniffed, trying to will it back. She wadded up the wet shirt and tossed it back into the chair, only then spotting Hank in the doorway.

He looked as strung out as she felt, hands tightly folded over his chest as he leaned against the door jam.

“Changing of the guard,” he greeted.

Tina sniffed again, aggressively dragging her wrist across her eyes to clear away the tears gathering.

“He, uh, he woke up for a minute there,” she said, avoiding the lieutenant’s eyes as she gathered up her things. “Mostly lucid too. That’s…That’s gotta be a good thing, right?”

“…Right.” There was an indulgent lilt to Hank’s voice as he walked into the room. “I talked to the tech. They’re about an hour from completing repairs. Then they’ll be able to reinstall it and get him fixed up.”

Tina busied herself with stuffing her damp shirt into her purse, while out of the corner of her eye, Hank approached the tub where Connor was still in rest mode. He took a deep breath, made for a deeper sigh, but he just held it for a beat instead, staring down at his suffering friend.

“They need to get him out of there,” Tina said, unable to let the silence balloon in the room. “He said the cold hurt. It was stressing him out. I tried to calm him down. Don’t know how well that worked, but…”

“You did fine, Chen,” Hank said, eyes still on Connor.

Tina scrunched her nose, breaking up the tingling emotional pressure across her face. She swallowed and cleared her throat, then shouldered her purse.

“Right, well, I guess I’ll…I’m clocking out then. Keep us posted, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Hank glanced at her, at Connor, then immediately back to Tina. “Hey, c’mere for a second.”

Tina paused, eying him suspiciously and taking a few steps back toward him and Connor. “What?”

Hank took two steps to close the distance more quickly, and he looped an arm around her back, wordlessly tugging her to him in a hug. Tina helplessly stumbled into the embrace, too tired to return it, but content to let it happen. Hank held her for a second before giving her a brief squeeze and then stepping back.

“He’s gonna be all right,” he said, leaving his hand on her shoulder. “He’s a big boy, and a stubborn son of a bitch. He’s handled worse than a fever.”

It wasn’t just a fever, and they both knew that. However, Tina appreciated what he was trying to do.

“Yeah.” She rolled her neck. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

“Hey, you need anything, you let me know…and I will make sure Person takes care of it.” She cobbled together a wink and half a grin.

Hank snorted, patted her arm, and then stepped back toward Connor. “That’s very generous. By the way, you look like shit. Go home and get some shut eye.”

She gave him a mock salute. “Aye aye.” She leaned around him. “See you later, Terminator.”

A squiggly line on the monitor spiked and went back to normal. That was good enough for her.

Tina gave him and Hank a parting look and then took her leave of the room, heading out into the hallway. It was notably warmer in the facility corridor than in Connor’s room, but still chilly. She gave her eyes a final wipe with the sides of her hands, and then she folded her arms around her chest as she walked herself out of the building and to her car.

#whumptober2019 #no.20 #dbh connor #dbh tina chen #dbh hank anderson

[milliadoc-brandybuck-fanfiction]

(SPN FIC) The Five Points of the Pentagram: Episode 1 | New Kids on the Block | Act 1

MATURE. FEATURES MILD HORROR AND EXTREME GORE. 

The silence of the main courtyard of the large college campus was only occasionally interrupted by a dog barking, trees rustling or the wishing of the winds. Not a person was in sight on the quiet night in early August, only the sounds of nature and the distant orange glow of the nearby town present, which was noticed and appreciated by janitor Jimmy Michaels, who moved as quietly across the campus as the breeze itself. Tired and feeling low, he had finished his 10-hour shift and was ready to leave for the night, though took his time so as to appreciate the peaceful atmosphere that he knew would be lost once the kids moved back in. He felt his mood lower deeper, however, as he realised that this was the only time when he felt truly at peace.

But amongst the apparent calm, shadows crept along the sides of buildings and through the whispering bushes. Slowly and steadily, they stalked the janitor, who was unaware of any break in the status quo. They waited, biding their time until he was cornered without even knowing it. Sliding along tiles, over walls and across the concrete of the path he was on now… slowly approaching and ready to pounce on this unsuspecting prey…

Jimmy stopped. He felt an odd chill brush past him, and suddenly felt quite a sickening feeling, as though he was being watched…

He turned around.

Nothing.

Taking a breath and turning his head back around, he tried to look past it, tried to convince himself it was just the wind and he was being paranoid. He continued on.

Immediately he was met with a searing fire of pain, staring in his chest and spreading fast through his torso, arms, legs, hands and feet, before creeping up his neck and infecting his mind, forcing him to emit a scream of anguish that struck terror in him like he had never felt. He pushed against the pain and pressed his hands onto his head with great difficulty, feeling like there was a great force of red hot ropes holding his wrists back. He continued to shriek in horror, hoping amongst his nightmarish thoughts that someone, anyone, would hear him and come to help him out of this hell that was killing him in the most hideous and cruel way possible.

But alone on the large campus so late at night, no one heard his screams in time.

***

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP-

Lory’s alarm screeched at her repeatedly on the bedside table. This would have been really annoying, had she not already been awake for at least two hours. Her hand finally reached out and switched it off, and she rolled onto her back to continue staring at the ceiling for a few more minutes.

Today was college move-in day for the freshman crowd. As a sophomore she had moved back into her dorm a week early, and had been spending almost every waking moment dreading the mass of new faces and difficult new classes and teachers she’d be up against. She knew all week, all summer even, she’d have to face it, especially the socialising. There was no way she could have avoided all human contact for four years. Make no mistake, she’d thought about how she might be able to enough times, but there was no way around it.

After a further five minutes of ceiling-staring, Lory closed her eyes, took one last breath, and rose up from her bed. She glanced over at the window where she could hear the noise of some new students bustling around with their parents and moving boxes. Lory let out a loud sigh and swung her legs out of bed, beginning the first few phases in facing the day.

***

On the farthest end of campus, a ‘67 Chevy Impala was slowly driving through the dorm house roads. Inside were two brothers, one looking around curiously, the other looking around sceptically. The sceptic-looking one let out a grunt, which caused his brother to roll his eyes.

“What now, Dean?”

Dean bit his tongue and made a face before answering. “Just don’t feel right here. Like I really don’t belong here.”

His brother let out an ironic chuckle. “Yeah, well, unless you’re about to tell me that you also put in an application to come here nine months ago then you’re not far off on that.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just- I’m sorry, okay? I just meant that you’re not the one who has to stay on campus all the time, only temporarily. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, I wish that was true. I wouldn’t exactly call this job worry-free, Sammy.”

Sam didn’t reply, knowing full well that Dean was right and reminding him why they were really here, something that Sam had done his best to forget for the duration of the journey. Turning back to the various scenes of parents helping their kids unpack and move into their dorms, the sight suddenly struck a chord in Sam’s heart. Dean apparently felt the same.

“What dad would say if he saw us now…” Dean noted.

“Yeah, well, dad’s not here. We are.” Sam replied softly. Dean took it more as a comment of comfort than rudeness, and relaxed a little.

Suddenly hearing some more aggressive tones, Sam’s gaze fell upon a girl staring straight ahead with her arms crossed, standing at the bottom of her dorm house steps, facing who he assumed was her father, who was the source of the aggression and standing several feet away by his car. The interaction didn’t look dangerous, just like strict parenting, but even so that same chord was struck again and Sam felt sorry for the girl. He felt selfishly grateful when they were out of view; he and Dean didn’t need more reminders of their special family life.

***

Surely coming to college meant that she could escape her parents’ grasp? Did moving out not mean that she was her own person, and didn’t need to be told what and what not to do? Apparently her father had other ideas. He was standing on the farthest edge of the sidewalk from her, one hand already on the open car door, whilst she was stood by her dorm house steps. Both of them were so close to freedom, to not having to care about each other for a good few months, and yet he insisted on staying and giving her the talk of what he expected from her whilst other students and their families awkwardly walked past.

“-and we expect you to make the most of this… opportunity, you’ve given yourself. We won’t support you if you slip up, in any way, got it?”

“Yes dad, I understand.” She said flatly, trying not to sound too annoyed so as to avoid another lecture.

Her father didn’t even say anything to that. He just lowered the hand he had been pointing at her with and nodded, like he’d won. Always trying to make it a competition, she thought.

“Come on, Mike, let’s get going.”

Her father briefly looked away to the inside if the car where her mother couldn’t wait to leave. He turned back to her.

“Stay out of trouble.”

Unlike the other kids around her, it was more of a command than an affectionate little parental joke. She didn’t even respond, vocal or physical. She just watched him get in the car, and as soon as she heard the engine start, she turned around and walked up the steps into the house at last.

Breathing out a huge sigh of relief through her mouth, she was greeted by one of her three housemates, who didn’t even notice her entrance at first. She was clicking away on her flip phone, texting one of the thousand people she had already got the number of and added to her little group. She looked up at the sound of Gwen picking up one of her boxes, but immediately looked back down at her phone and continued typing before she even said a word.

“Oh, hey. We were gonna head down to the Courtyard if you wanted to come too, I guess.”

The lack of energy in her voice was outstanding. Gwen looked past it, however, and politely smiled.

“I think I’m just gonna stay here and unpack, actually, get used to my new room-”

“Yeah, they said you probably wouldn’t wanna come anyways, it’s cool.”

Taken aback by this bluntness, Gwen blinked and began busying herself by walking over to the stairs. As she started heading upstairs, another of her housemates bounded in and showed the first something so absolutely scandalous that they both burst into a fit of high-pitched giggles. Out of sight, and knowing they wouldn’t notice her anyway, Gwen rolled her eyes, leaving them to giggle away downstairs.

The room Gwen was staying in - the last in the house to be filled- was right at the end of the corridor, the sounds of hectic families (whomst, for once, she did not envy in their stress) filtering in through the open window at the end. Gwen couldn’t wait to step away from all the fussing around her, all the gossip and glamour of her new housemates, and her room offered her a wonderful excuse to be anti-social for at least a few hours.

Opening the door to her room was something that Gwen hadn’t expected to be so important to her until it actually happened. Her breath hitched for a second as this fresh start was displayed right in front of her eyes; blank walls, empty shelves and window sills, and barren notice boards for her to stick random reminders and study notes onto. Her college identity was a clean slate waiting to be shaped, and the room, stupid as it may sound, seemed to make her realise that for the first time.

She placed the box down on the floor and walked over to the window, taking in the room as she did so. She peeked outside to the ground below briefly,somehow even more crowded with move-ins than when she’d been down there, before looking back upwards and resting her elbows on the window sill. She placed her head on her arms as she took in the clear blue sky above her, barely a wisp of a cloud about.

Honestly, this might be really good. This might be my chance to take some control again, she thought hopefully. I think I can start to be myself again.

***

Lory came downstairs to see one of her new housemates, a girl called Meredith, amongst an abundance of cardboard boxes and plastic bags, looking lost.

“Need a hand?” Lory asked kindly.

Meredith turned to her and her face lit up. “Yeah, thanks.”

Lory picked up a few plastic bags.

“Ooh, those are for the kitchen!” Meredith said.

“Got it.” Lory replied walking over to place the bags on the kitchen counter. “You sure have a lot of stuff. Your grandma in there somewhere too?”

Meredith laughed, and Lory instantly felt happier hearing it. “I’m just terrible at getting rid of stuff. And my family are terrible at resisting giving me even more stuff. Pretty sure my mom gave me half the kitchen supplies from home, and my little sisters drew me about fifty thousand pictures of them in case I forgot what they look like whilst I’m here. Plus my dad gave me a bunch of his old clothes from when he was in college, y’know, ‘just in case’.”

Emerging from the kitchen, Lory grinned. “That’s cute. Sounds like they really care about you.”

Meredith smiled fondly, as if revisiting happy memories. “Yeah, we are pretty close, I suppose.” She said almost to herself.

It was sweet to see such love emitting from one person. Still smiling and feeling happy, Lory picked up one of the heavy boxes.

“Where to, chief?”

“Up to my room, first door on the left, thanks.”

Nodding, Lory walked over to the staircase. Catching onto a thought, Meredith turned around suddenly.

“You wanna check out the Eastern Courtyard?” suggested Meredith. “Apparently they’ve got it all: singers, performers, club sign-ups, free giveaways...”

“And have to socialise with random people before they have any alcohol in them? Yeah, no, I’m good thank you.” replied Lory, but with a playful smile.

“Oh, come on,” grinned Meredith. “It might surprise you!”

Lory laughed, continuing to talk as she disappeared upstairs. “The only thing that surprises me about this college is the free parking.”

As Lory disappeared from sight, Meredith shook her head, both amused and concerned. She rifled through one of her own boxes, feeling an oddly-shaped object that she didn’t recognise. She pulled it out, revealing a small item wrapped up in blue-grey tissue paper. Unwrapping it carefully, Meredith let out a soft gasp when she recognised the sharp curves and dents of her family crest, sized down and with a thin chain around it. She didn’t remember packing it… Her grandfather must have slipped it in when she wasn’t looking.

Meredith was only vaguely aware of her family’s heritage and bloodline. She had only really been told about it in the last few months before her leaving for college, a little by her mother, briefly by her sister, but mostly by her grandpa, who loved to go into great detail when exploring the family history. But this time he did seem different about it, like he was warning her. All this talk about ‘protect yourself’ and ‘watch out for trouble’. Meredith had assumed he only meant to say this because she was moving out, and that he was just looking out for her as she moved into adulthood.

She set the tissue paper down and took the crest in her finger tips, moving them along the small gems and edges that ran through it. It felt… strange to her touch; she expected the metal to feel cold, but it felt warm as soon as she held it, her finger tips barely grazing it before she felt the heat radiating from it. It was almost welcoming, familiar.

But it was no less unnerving. In fact, it was probably more so.

She blinked and shook herself out of it, breaking her trance. She wrapped it back up in the tissue paper. Not yet. Not in freshman week. There are enough things to deal with right now without this too.

Turning away from the bag with the necklace in it, Meredith picked up a box containing her notebooks and began the trek up the stairs after Lory. She was determined to make this week count for her, and wanted to begin in a happy state of mind, as ever.

***

The door sharply shut behind Gwen as she stepped back out into the fresh air. For once she didn’t care how loud it was, she knew her housemates wouldn’t notice the noise being too engrossed in themselves and random Facebook profiles (“Oh my God, her hair is unreal!”) to have any awareness. Initially she hadn’t wanted to go outside, but her housemates had chosen to stay inside being loud and generally disruptive (much to her annoyance), forcing her to go outside anyway to get away from their constant laughing and shrieking.

Wrapping her oversized dark patterned cardigan around her and folding her arms into it, Gwen began walking along the sidewalk and away from the house, in desperate need of a semi-peaceful walk, which she could have now that the streets had cleared up and most students had properly moved in. There was only a distant cluster of voices coming from one of the nearby ‘freshman zones’, of which Gwen had no intention of going to. A walk around the quiet campus seemed much more inviting. Besides, she wasn’t alone, not really; there was a cool autumn breeze that danced around her feet and made her feel safe.

***

After an hour of seemingly endless nagging, Meredith had finally managed to convince Lory to leave their shared dorm house and come out into the world. Despite this small victory, it proved to be short-lived as they headed down to the Eastern Courtyard and Lory’s moaning and excuses filled the air.

“Seriously, I don’t have time for this.”

“Yes you do.”

“I really don’t, I have somewhere to be.”

“I’m sure your bed is very comfy but that’s not where we’re headed.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

Meredith, being fairly patient, said nothing, though had to refrain from rolling her eyes at Lory’s constant whining. As they rounded a corner, a figure coming from the opposite direction rounded it too. When they came into view, Meredith saw that it was a girl walking alone in a large patterned cardigan. She perked up; here was an opportunity. As the girl approached, Meredith broke into a warm and friendly smile.

“Hi!” She said brightly.

The girl’s head snapped up, as did Lory’s, and Lory thought she saw panic flash in the girl’s eyes for a moment. When she saw that Meredith and Lory really meant no harm, she averted her gaze and smiled awkwardly.

“Oh- uh, h-hey.” And with that she continued walking, possibly quicker than she had been before. The girls watched her go for a moment before Meredith sighed.

“Oh well. Worth a shot, I guess not everyone wants to be friends.” She continued on, Lory following behind, still begrudging.

“I’ll bet everyone’s just like her, not wanting to talk, just wanting to get on with things. A smart move if you ask me.”

“Aw c’mon, it’s gonna be great!” Meredith replied, ever the optimist, it seemed. “You might meet some new friends whilst we’re there!”

Lory huffed. “Why would I need any more friends when you’re already soooo perfect?” She mocked with a fake smile.

“Ha ha,” Meredith grinned. “Flattery, fake or otherwise, won’t get you out of this, hun.”

Lory groaned, knowing, sadly, that she was right.

***

The harsh white lamplight hit the desk as Sam sat down and dumped his notebook onto the table, opening it up on a new page and immediately beginning to scribble out notes and to-dos. Dean stood behind him, admiring the room.

“Gotta say, not a bad place to crash for a few months.” He remarked. Sam ignored him, engrossed in his writing. Dean leaned against one of the walls and continued regardless, “Actually looks better than most of the motel rooms we stay in. Maybe I should try out this college thing, might get a decent night’s sleep out of it at least…”

He looked over at Sam’s reaction to the joke, but was met with his brother’s back leant over his desk. Dean sighed loudly.

“All right, something’s gotta be interesting if me saying I’m thinkin’ about signing up for college doesn’t get your attention. What’re you writing?”

“Class times for tomorrow,” Sam replied shortly.

Dean stared at him. “That’s it?” He looked disbelieving of this underwhelming answer. “God, you are such a geek.”

“I’m the one actually trying to get a degree here, Dean.” Sam replied without looking up again. “Some of us aren’t here just for the job.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m gonna go find somewhere to stay for the night. I’ll call you when I’ve got a place.”

“‘Kay.”

Shaking his head and smiling slightly, Dean pushed himself off of the wall and left Sam to his constant scribbling.

***

In the Courtyard, Meredith was walking around, talking to people, introducing herself, and generally lighting up the atmosphere. Behind her, Lory was dragging her feet, looking as bored and disinterested in the activities and sign-ups as she felt. Meredith tried to pretend not to notice, but she was starting to feel guilty for bringing Lory to a place where she clearly felt so uncomfortable.

“Hey, look!” She exclaimed, beckoning Lory over in an attempt to spark some enthusiasm. “They’re having a two for one deal at the local pizza house for all freshman!”

“Wow, better call the twelve-year-olds, they’d go wild for a deal like that!” Lory replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Meredith drooped slightly, lowering the flyer and placing it back on the table. Lory instantly felt guilt wash over her.

“Look, Meredith, I’m sorry, it’s just… this isn’t really my kind of thing. Especially since I’m not a freshman anymore. And please don’t take this the wrong way, but, you know I’m a mature student, and I just kind of feel like I’ve… outgrown this sort of deal. But don’t think that means that you shouldn’t do it yourself, or that I’m not happy, okay?”

Not being able to lift Lory’s social spirits made her feel like she’d failed somewhat, but Meredith gave a small smile all the same. “Okay. You go do your own thing.” She said encouragingly, tapping Lory’s arm briefly.

Grinning, Lory raised her eyebrows as if remembering something. “Speaking of my own thing,” she said. “I’ve gotta get to work. Have fun.”

She swished past a confused Meredith, who turned around and called after her, “You have a job?”

Lory looked back, still walking. “Yeah, I work at one of the bars in town.”

It was not possible for Meredith to look more taken aback than she did in that moment. She gaped at Lory as she continued to walk away, and when she finally opened her mouth she had to shout after her.

“You work in a bar?! One of the most social environments on the whole planet?”

“I said I didn’t like to socialise with people who didn’t have alcohol in them! Byee!” She called, the smirk in her voice very evident.

Meredith was left in the middle of the crowded courtyard, shaking her head in disbelief and holding back a smile.

***

Despite having not encountered anyone else for nearly half an hour, Gwen was still cringing at how awkward she had been with those two girls. They hadn’t looked threatening, they hadn’t seemed to be too giggly or gossipy like her delightful housemates had been; the one with silver hair had some pagan tattoos, so at least there was someone else she could relate to in that, and had looked really cool; the one with the bouncy, long curly brown hair was actually incredibly pretty. Perhaps that was what threw her off, they were both too cool and too attractive for her to not act like an awkward mess around them. Sometimes, Gwen really hated her stupid social ineptity to the point where she wondered if it was possible to burn it out of her soul. Permanently. Please.

As she walked along the empty streets, she finally noticed how the temperature had gone down and the light had begun to fade from the day. She also noticed how she was in a part of campus she didn’t know, which made her realise that she didn’t know where anything on campus was because the campus was huge and she’d never been able to remember where anything was on those silly little tours. So she was lost. And it was getting dark. Awesome.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she thought rationally. She came from the North side, so all she had to do was walk back the way she… thought she came. That was her best option right now. Gwen placed her hands on her head and ran them through her hair, resting them on the back of her neck as she looked out over the dorm houses. Then she replaced her hands into her pockets, turned around and began to walk away.

Something suddenly didn’t feel quite right. Gwen could feel an odd change in the air that had nothing to do with the growing night. She looked around her, brows furrowed, and noticed that the trees seemed oddly still, even though she could feel a sharp breeze travelling over her skin. She sped up slightly, wrapping her cardigan tighter around herself and firmly crossing her arms.

From a silent hideout, the shadows watched her. The temptation to follow was strong… but they could not strike. Not yet.

But soon.

***

Perhaps Lory had been right. Meredith was starting to become tired of the number of people who had approached her as a prank or with dumb joke questions, or asking if classes started tomorrow - on a Saturday. She decided to head back to her dorm house and muster up something at least edible. Thanking the person who handed her the umpteenth flyer of the afternoon, she turned and began walking back in the direction of the dorm.

As she approached the centre, a scream broke out and echoed throughout the campus. Disturbed but concerned, Meredith began running towards the source of the scream, which sounded like it came from the Eastern Courtyard. Other students were running through the arch ways leading to it already, having clearly heard the horrible sound as well. She reached the arch way and rushed to where a crowd had gathered. Pushing through slightly, she made it to the inner edge, and almost fell backwards in shock.

On the stone ground was a young girl’s body, blood pouring out of her ears, eyes and nose, white as a sheet and veins popping on her neck and face. Several staff members were attempting to block her from view and contacting the emergency services. Students surrounding the scene were whispering, some even screeching themselves in shock, some crying. Meredith could only watch in terror. She couldn’t look away. But she felt sick and empty at the sight.

Someone suddenly came up behind her, calling her name.

“Meredith! Meredith, are you okay, what’s going-”

Lory stopped as soon as she saw the body too. She let out a deep, terrified breath.

“Oh God…” She whispered in a low voice.

***

She had managed to get lost and ended up in the one place she never wanted to be in the first place; the Eastern Courtyard. But as Gwen approached, that awful feeling crept up on her again, and almost instantly after she heard a horrid scream. Fearing the worst, but praying like mad that it wasn’t anything to do with the changing winds, she ran to the source. The sight she met was awful, even worse than she could have possibly imagined. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from the girl’s face, covered in bold blue and purple veins and completely sheet-white. And all the blood… The blood was deep crimson and in a giant circle around the body, spread out so far that it was a shock that the human body could hold so much of it. Gwen felt a pang of fear at the thought that this feeling and this event… was there a connection…?

Glancing over the rest of the crowd, Gwen spotted the two girls from before opposite her. The girl with the curly hair was in a state of pure shock, whilst the silver girl, who still looked horrified, put an arm around her for comfort. A sudden burst of energy emitted from the two of them that made Gwen blink suddenly and take a sharp breath. She stared at them, stunned and confused, before the silver-haired one put an arm around the other and led her away from the crowd and out of sight. Then, to her right, Gwen sensed an even stronger energy, and her head whipped in its direction. Her sight set on a tall guy with brown hair, who did not look as shocked as the other students but more… panicked. He quickly glanced around the gathering circle of students and backed out of the crowd, as two security guards stepped up to move the students back and away from the scene. A couple of them pushed on Gwen’s side too, forcing her to break her gaze on the guy, but she quickly turned and pushed herself through the crowd to get a look at the guy.

But when she emerged, he had vanished. She looked around, circling on the spot whilst students brushed past her, but he had gone. His energy was lost, and Gwen breathed. She was left confused and almost breathless at the events that had unfolded.

Who the hell were all these people?

***

Hiding around a dark corner out of sight, Sam had already pulled out his cell phone and had typed Dean’s number before he could even think about anything else. He waited impatiently, and when Dean picked up on the fifth ring, he went straight into it.

“It got someone. Someone else. It’s started moving again.”

#spn supernatural spnfamily supernaturalfic deanxofc samxofc originalfemalecharacters witches deanhateswitches wellthoughtout

[foxofthedesert]

How to Tame a Siren | A DinahSiren Arrow FF

So, like every other DinahSiren shipper, I loved the scene after Laurel's petition to have Oliver released is denied and Dinah stops her from going after the judge. Dinah has some pretty impressive Siren calming skills, so I wanted to explore that in the setting of an established relationship.

If you’d rather read/comment on AO3, click here.

"Fuck!"

Bursting up from the sofa, Laurel heaves the notepad in her hand clear across the apartment, shouting into the effort with almost enough force to trigger her sonic ability. For what must be the fifteenth time this evening, she had read through an amended opening statement for the trial due to start tomorrow morning only to find it yet again utterly inadequate. Which in turn made her feel inadequate. Which then made her angry.

This trial is by far the most critical of her career. It is make or break stuff, really, of the sort that could catapult her from a zealous state D.A. into the realm of public political stardom. The potential to extend her sphere of influence into the elusive halls of power is too tempting to resist when Mayors, State Reps, and Governors – hell, even a few prominent US Senators – were made from emerging victorious in similarly high profile spectacles. Being District Attorney of a metropolitan area has certainly afforded her a tantalizing sample of what real power tastes like, and she has wantonly indulged herself in the heady flavor, but there is no sense in denying she wants more. The limited prestige of local prominence is not enough. Her desire to join the exclusive ranks of the political elite only intensifies the closer she gets to breaking through the threshold of a ceiling that appears increasingly less impenetrable. Just because she has mostly bottled up her dark side does not mean she has ceded her ambitions. First meta-human President sure does have a nice ring to it, after all.

Since giving up the unrivaled adrenaline rush of hunting down enemies then mercilessly disposing of them, Laurel has needed to focus those chaotic energies into more productive outlets. Joining Oliver's gang of mostly insufferable do-gooders proved an ineffective option, as such selfless service could never satisfy her ferocious, ultra-competitive drive. Oh, she tried suiting up for a while as a means to sate her frequent urges to commit violence, but found it to be at best a stop-gap solution. Fighting did help, and still does, to mollify the malefic creature crawling beneath her skin everyone so lovingly refers to as Black Siren, just not enough.

Sadly prowling the shadowy streets of Star City and pummeling members of the criminal element she once would have casually commiserated with had one glaring flaw: every night when her patrol was done she had to go home and try to stuff Siren back into the little square box labeled: DANGER MONSTER INSIDE, DO NOT OPEN. On a good day of pretending to be someone she isn't, that box barely survives the inexhaustible fury of the prisoner it was specifically constructed to contain.

The only alternative to giving in to the insidious temptation to become Black Siren again was to supplement the lackluster approach of vigilantism by funneling some of that excess energy into her day job. So that's what she has done, having adopted a method of practicing law that mirrors her no-holds-barred approach to fighting. Ruthless, aggressive, largely merciless, occasionally reckless, always a sharpened blade in hand ready to be metaphorically driven home. These were some of the descriptive words and phrases she has heard attributed to her tenure as District Attorney, meant as criticism by her opponents and praise by her supporters. Whether offered as complimentary or disparaging, she embraces them all wholeheartedly. Ultimately she is who she is and forever shall be, only now she focuses on being an edgy, remorseless, vindictive, judgmental, angry person in the courtroom so she can just be Laurel at home.

That said, she would be lying to insist she never wishes to return to the simplicity of Siren's outlook on life. Being a good guy is hella complicated and terribly stressful. There is an undeniable advantage to not giving two shits about anyone other than herself. Doing the right thing is so often thankless and contradictory to her temperament that she suffers from far more anxiety than she ever did causing mayhem whilst arrayed in the signature black leather and fishnets. Some mornings she finds it hard to force herself out the front door of the apartment for the gigantic knot of caustic dread that has taken up residence in her belly. But she has yet to let that irrational angst defeat her, in no small part thanks to the stubbornness that makes her a survivor. That, and there is one very special person for whom she would do almost anything who does not allow her to surrender to her worst characteristics or her very real fears.

On nights like tonight, though, when she is frustrated beyond all reckoning and has been bullied to the bleeding edge of her tolerance with the expectation placed upon her to do things the 'right way,' preventing a full blown Siren-apocalypse tests the limits of her carefully developed self-control. And when she is arguing with herself internally like she is right now? Yeah, that doesn't help at all. Doesn't bode well for her sanity, either.

What the hell are you doing, you deluded moron? The villainous part of Laurel's psyche is being so excessively obnoxious tonight that she is unable to ignore it. You're no Clarence Darrow. Hell, Gomez Addams is more qualified than you are for this shit. You know what that means, don't you? It means you're gonna fuck this up just like you do everything else. It means you're gonna make a fool of yourself in front of some of the most powerful people in the entire country in addition to those sappy morons you've started hanging out with. It also means a killer is gonna walk free. Good thing it would be oh-so-easy to make sure that never happens! Betcha a crisp Nixon or whoever the hell is on a hundred here it wouldn't be hard to intercept prisoner transpo and take care of that problem. Permanently.

"No! I can't. I won't..." Shaking her head frantically, Laurel is as much frustration over her internal dialogue with an imaginary version of her worst self as she is over responding audibly to the obvious goading. Agitated past the point of reason, she begins to pace the area in front of the sofa like a captive tiger whose juicy meal was left just out of reach of her chains. To ward off a total meltdown, she slips into the tried and true method she was taught to master the monster within.

"First," Ollie had told her taking up a very convincing zen pose, "close your eyes and envision a harbor of peace, somewhere you are totally safe. Somewhere you feel secure enough to allow yourself to be vulnerable. A place that you can be your true self, absent of all baggage weighing you down and as in touch with your former innocence as is possible. See it? Good. Now go there. Immerse yourself in your surroundings. Let the familiarity and serenity and warmth seep into your bones and wash away the fear and rage."

That part was always easy enough for Laurel. When she first started training in Oliver's regimen, she used to envision her house on Earth-2 back before her mother miscarried after an accident and her parents started fighting all the time, then divorced a couple years later, and soon after her father crawled head first into the bottle. Back then, she was exactly like every other happy little girl in America. Mommy's angel and Daddy's pride and joy, she was celebrated for her advanced intellect and a gift for language that manifested early alongside a clear affinity for mediation and a prodigious grasp for very vague concepts of justice. She can remember her Mom and Dad playfully arguing about whose footsteps she would follow in. Was she going to become a career academic like her Mom? Or a cop like her Dad? They never could agree. In the end, Laurel landed somewhere between all on her own, not that it mattered when her idyllic life came to a screeching halt not long after her eighth birthday. But the memory of that former happiness was enough to center her in the midst of the storm of unfettered darkness that was Black Siren.

Like Ollie, however, she has since moved on from that initial visualization. Her refuge is no longer a place but a person.

Dinah.

Just the thought of that name creates a puddle of warmth low in Laurel's belly that swirls wonderfully northward. Once reaching her chest, it then spreads into her arms and fingers, which begin to tingle with anticipation that will have to wait til later for fulfillment.

Her eyes slide shut involuntarily as she imagines Dinah in all of her glory – olive skin that is every bit as soft as it looks, thick curly brown hair she envies as much as she loves, entrancing green eyes that reveal the mysteries of the universe to an infinitely curious mind, and sinfully lush lips turned up in a smile only she gets to see. A distinctive smell washes over her as the very human vision of her haven coalesces within the mist of her memory, cherries and the subtle hint of Tom Ford Jasmin Rouge, and it is accompanied by the feel of warm fingers and palms sliding against and caressing the bare flesh of her arms, shoulders, sides, hips, and along the small of her back. Shivering at the ghost of a touch for which she has acquired an insatiable addiction, she also hears a slightly husky yet alluring feminine voice whose dulcet tones are capable of penetrating any resistance constructed by a heart that has been abused so many times there is no reckoning the wounds. That voice – Dinah's unmistakable voice – is telling her to be strong, is encouraging her with reminders of all the good she's done since rejoining the wider world, and comforts her with assurances that she is loved and always will be.

Like the arrival of a gentle morning tide, Laurel feels calm wash over her and her monstrous side recedes a step into the darkness.

"Next," Oliver would say, "concentrate on regulating your breathing and then focus on bringing your heart rate down. Elevated BP and oxygen supply to the brain only fuels the runaway chain chemical reaction going on. Control is what we are after, so strive for it with single-minded tenacity."

Again, easy enough, though primarily thanks to her gorgeous, heroic, compassionate, unshakable anchor – the woman in whom she has learned to trust and for whom she would take on the whole world. Taking slow, deep breaths, Laurel hones in on the sound of her heartbeat and then compares it with the memory of the one steadily beating beneath her ear most nights. That gentle thrumming cadence, so reliable and soothing, is a unique pacifier that has proved a startlingly effective cure to chronic insomnia.

Funny, she never believed books and movies that made romance out into some mythical cure to all the ailments of the human condition. She still doesn't about a lot of it. Not only do her psychological scars preclude her from such vapid sentimentality, experience has taught her that love can often be every bit as destructive as it is some wholesome force with only benevolent intentions and outcomes. There was a time in the not-so-distant past in which love inspired her to commit atrocities she will never atone for or forget, acts of such unfathomable depravity they eat away at her restored conscience to the point she has started wrenching awake from the throes of a vivid nightmare recounting on of them. And in the present, love has yet to cure her infrequent depressive fits any more than it has rid her of the endlessly reoccurring compulsion to murder the terminally moronic legal-lackeys who annoy her on a daily basis. But! She has discovered, to her immense delight, that popular media was right about one thing. It really is so much easier to fall asleep ensconced in the strong arms of the one person she loves more than anything or anyone else while listening to said person's heartbeat.

Unbidden yet beyond her capacity to resist, Laurel's lips quirk up into an amused smile. Felicity was so insufferable when Laurel admitted to Dinah turning her into a cuddle bug because a girl's night ended up with her having too liberally imbibed the delicious spirits served at their favorite 'friend date' haunt. A few other tidbits about herself also slipped free that night. One of them was of a particularly intimate nature and involved a graphic description of her all time favorite taste and smell, which got her into so much fucking trouble less than a week later because Felicity is literally incapable of keeping a secret, especially when in company with one Curtis Holt who has flipped his gossip switch on.

Lord have mercy! But isn't Dinah a splendorous vision when she's royally pissed off.

"Having restored a sense of equilibrium," Oliver would instruct once the first two phases were complete, "carefully corral the monster inside into a place from which it can't escape. There is no other option than compartmentalizing. Believe me, I've tried everything else. Embracing the monster only gives it validation and power over you that you will find nearly impossible to regain. Ignoring it will only feed it's rage. And trying to lock it away forever will only make it all the more vicious and bloodthirsty when it inevitably escapes imprisonment. No, the only way to deal with what people like you and I have to deal with is to control it fanatically. That means intensively training to unleash it with purpose instead of reckless abandon, very much like a weapon, and at all other times strictly segregating it. So put it in a box or toss it in a cage or seal it away in a cell, never lose track of the key, and then keep a close watch on it until the next moment arrives when you need it again.

This is the hardest part. Not because Siren doesn't go into her cage like she's been conditioned to, but because Laurel always feels bad about banishing that part of her into such desolate isolation. Without it, she probably would not have survived the repeated traumas she endured without going batshit insane.

Being Black Siren was not always the study in mustache-twirling villainy as it was when she relocated to this Earth. At first, she was on a crusade to secure righteous retribution for her father and Ollie and all the broken, hapless, vulnerable prey like her who succumbed to one or many of the soulless sharks circling the chummed waters in the wake of a personal tragedy. If only she knew what she does now, that revenge never goes as planned, is never as satisfying as one hopes it will be, and ultimately leads one down a rabbit hole of infinite darkness.

When killing Brett Collins – the drunken bastard responsible for her father's death – didn't quench the hatred that had taken root in her heart, she started hitting the streets on a regular basis. Before long, and with the help of an assassin named Sandra who took an unusual interest in her, she was learning how to fight with more than just her meta ability. Encounters with targets got progressively more out of control until she was not only either putting them in the hospital or the morgue, but she lost her ability to differentiate between just punishment and violence for the sake of personal pleasure. By the time Zoom coerced her into his cohort of meta-terrorists, there wasn't much left of the Laurel who was once the biggest daddies girl to ever live and who would have gladly endured a thousand scourgings or literally ran through fire for her beloved Ollie.

If only she could go back in time and tell her younger self how futile that path was, how empty and deprived of meaning her life became, she could have been spared so much unnecessary pain and so many avoidable stains on her conscience. Sadly, time on goes in one direction unless one is conscripted by an intergalactic agency with honest-to-God H.G. Wells time machines. Sara would not look kindly upon theft of The Waverider, even it was for a very good cause by her sister's doppelganger. Nor is Laurel is inclined to undertake such an endeavor. She has many regrets, far more than she can process at any one time, but the desolate highway of anguish she trod to get to where she is also made her who she is. And while she is not always at peace with the countless sins she has committed and never will be, she is unwilling to give up what she so serendipitously stumbled upon here in the Star City of Earth-1. With Dinah Drake of all people.

Three years ago, she would have laughed until her stomach hurt if someone would have suggested she would refuse to trade the sanctimonious bitch extraordinaire she first met on Lian Yu even if tempted with the opportunity to get either her father or her Ollie back – or both. And yet here she is, confidently acknowledging she would do just that without so much as a twinge of self-recrimination or guilt.

Dinah is, without question, the best thing that has ever happened to her, and there is nothing she won't do to keep from fucking up what they have. She can't say that about anyone else. For Quentin, Laurel had let her true self peek through the curtain of protection over her heart that was Black Siren, was even willing to let that self share the spotlight with her villainous alter ego. But for Dinah, she learned how to put Siren in a gigantic, cold, black box only to ever let her out when she's useful. There are no words to describe how huge a deal taking that leap was for Laurel. No one really would or could understand it except for Dinah and Oliver, both of whom appreciate her sacrifice to varying to degrees.

Oliver has a monster of his own to contend with and, since he agreed to train her how to deal with hers, no longer looks at her with that judgmental loathing and disappointment that once tainted their every interaction. Hell, he has even come to respect her for what she can offer beyond her rival combat skills and vague similarities to the Laurel he lost because he knows her daily struggles better than anyone else. They have developed a tentative friendship that neither are in a rush to experiment with for fear of triggering the other's traumatic memories of lost loved ones that wear their faces. To them, this amiable detente is working wonderfully, therefore it is perfectly sufficient.

Dinah, though...well, Dinah was the first member of the Team Arrow clique to care for the Laurel that is without any ulterior motives underscoring her overtures. It Dinah's unexpected and numerous offerings of support or encouragement that kept Laurel from making some mistakes that might well have re-immersed her in the ocean of hate, bitterness, and rage that was Black Siren. Dinah also had experience with taking out her pain on those who perpetrated it, has spilled blood and killed with her abilities in the pursuit of revenge. One of the people who hurt Dinah the worst was, in fact, Laurel, and that she was able to forgive Laurel for Vinny even a little bit spoke to the absolute strength of her character. A lot of vigilantes squawk about being heroes and set about proving how awesome they are with their fists or guns or knives or bows and arrows. Dinah proved she was a hero by showing compassion to the person for which she had the least reason to do so. To a practiced pessimist like Laurel, that alone made Dinah worth trusting, worth embracing, worth appreciating...worth loving. So when to her shock and inconceivable joy Dinah admitted to returning her seemingly hopeless affections, there was no way in hell she was gonna miss the chance to seize an opportunity she knew instinctively would develop into a once in a lifetime love. And it has been exactly that.

Objectively speaking, Laurel is fully aware she has no right to be as happy as she is. Thing about is she is too happy to care. So what if some of Dinah's friends on Team Arrow still don't trust her. So what if public opinion of their relationship is not always rosy. So what if their problematic history rears its ugly head and they fight like dogs and cats every now and then. So what if the whole fucking world disapproves of what they have. So long as Dinah is healthy and happy, anyone who has a negative opinion about their relationship can take a really short walk off a very tall bridge. Including Siren, who bitches and moans at every opportunity about how soft and pathetic she's become, like she is right now at this very moment. Sometimes Laurel is tempted to consult with Caity Snow about how best to address unwelcome snark from an alter ego. Or a therapist to deal with what might be a serious psychological disorder...

Tough shit, you salty bitch. Time to go back in the hole, Laurel tells Siren as she mentally escorts her darker self, bound hand and foot, to the ebony container she erected in her mind.

Once the beast is safely back in her inescapable box, Laurel returns to the task at hand. This opening statement has to be perfect and by God it will be. She promised a little girl named Susie that the man who took her Mommy and Daddy away would never hurt anyone else ever again. That's a promise she has no intention of breaking. And if successfully prosecuting this case propels her to a notoriety she can advantageously employ to further her career? All the better.

So I'm Meredith Brooks with a functional brain and better hair. Go ahead and sue me. She chuckles under her breath at her own joke.

Determination renewed, Laurel fetches the discarded notepad and deposits herself back on the sofa with renewed purpose. She has an important promise to keep and lofty future prospects to secure. That in mind, she sets about achieving both with a determination that matches the gleam in her eye.

"By the time I'm through, that jury will be eating out of the palm of my hand," she comments to the empty apartment, then begins to read once more

With a sigh of relief, Dinah pushes her key into the lock of her apartment door. God, it's good to be home.

All day long she's been a gigantic ball of stress. Three active, high profile cases have taken up permanent residence on her desk, demanding her attention which is already spread thin. Not only is she having to keep a close eye on the progress being made by six detectives and the entire forensics team, but she is also juggling quarterly performance evaluations on top of the Mayor's request-that-wasn't-a-request to conduct a thorough review of department spending in an effort to streamline the budget. All of that on top of her second job, unpaid by the way, patrolling the streets of Star City as the Black Canary means Dinah is way past due for some down time. Thankfully the end of her current circus act is in sight. An arrest was made today in one of the cases and she signed off on the last of the evaluations. Another two days and the budgetary review will be completed. Once that's done, she intends to take an entire week of vacation and God help anyone who dares to stand in her way.

The only problem with that plan is a certain blonde who has been perhaps the largest drain on Dinah's emotional and psychological reserves. Laurel is under even more pressure than she is, as impossible it seems, and has been working herself stupid since landing the case of the Governor's slain son and daughter-in-law. Dinah can't remember the last time she arrived to what would ordinarily be a relaxing evening at home with her partner of eighteen months.

Normally Laurel would be flitting about the kitchen while doing her best to cook an edible dinner, her golden hair twirled up into a messy bun, dressed in comfy attire like leggings and a loose, off the shoulder sweater or a raggedy old tee. That, or she would be sprawled out on the couch watching MMA or whatever live boxing match might be on, take-out waiting for them both on the dining table. Strangely enough, while Laurel was deadly serious about her job, she is not the type to bring work home with her. This case ended that preferable trend. It has consumed her to a frightening degree. Even when she's at home, her nose is in a law book or she's pouring through case files to find avenues through which to attack the insufferably smug in his wealth and privilege scumbag who – while clearly deranged and guilty as hell – has the best team of defenders dirty money can buy.

To be honest, Dinah is torn between feeling intense pride in Laurel's obsession for justice and a very real concern that said obsession might precipitate a backslide into dangerous habits that don't lead anywhere good. While she has long since forgiven Laurel for what went down with Vince, has even fallen so far beyond head over heels in love with her, a malicious specter lingers upon the horizon. Black Siren, while distant, is forever a threat to the mostly normal and incredibly happy life they have built together. Dinah knows all too well that for people like her and Laurel who have binged upon the sickly sweet delicacies offered by the worst aspects of human nature, succumbing to those old addictions is ever a single taste away.

For the past two weeks she's lain awake in their bed at night until exhaustion finally pulled her under the cresting waves of slumber, unable to fall asleep swiftly as she usually does due to slightly irrational fretting over Laurel's deteriorating mental state. Staring endlessly at Laurel's face, relaxed in repose but still troubled by demons that haunt her dreams, does nothing to quell the creeping panic that seems intent on digging further beneath Dinah's skin with every minute doubt or fear. Never has she been so invested in another person. Not even Vince. And that, more than anything else, is what fuels intense, paranoid fantasies of losing Laurel.

There is no accounting how many times she has conjured up what might happen if a not guilty verdict is returned in this crucial, impending trial. Of how she would be forced to watch Laurel's vibrant olive green eyes turn cold, and of their tense evening at home with all of Dinah's attempts to assuage Laurel's simmering rage failing miserably. Of Laurel eventually tiring of being pawed at and patronized with another you did your best, of her snapping at Dinah and then storming out of their apartment with death emblazoned all over her striking features. Of the morning news reporting the grisly murder of the real estate tycoon recently acquitted of murdering the Governor's son and daughter-in-law. And then the worst part, Laurel sneaking back home the next night, streaks of dried blood staining her blonde mane any ugly rusted shade of red, bags under bloodshot eyes blurry from not having slept on a manic euphoria-induced bender of senseless violence and palpable self-loathing.

Just the thought of anything remotely resembling that scenario coming to pass causes Dinah's stomach to knot with dread like a gnarled tree trunk from some old horror movie. There is little she could conjure up equally as capable of turning her guts into liquid and her heart into a block of burning ice. It is literally the worst possible outcome of this case, one that Dinah does not think she could survive. Losing Vince twice made her say and do and want things she never imagined she could back when she was a young and idealistic Marine. She had thought watching him die as Laurel screamed into his ear was her breaking point. She was wrong. So wrong. Losing Laurel to Black Siren again? That, Dinah thinks, might actually shatter her into so many jagged pieces that a veritable army of puzzle geeks couldn't put her back together.

Imagine then, how quickly panic sets in when she enters their apartment only to find Laurel on the sofa, bent over a notepad on the coffee table, hands tugging at her hair and an ugly sneer marring her pretty lips. After tossing her purse and keys onto the stand next the door, Dinah stalls for a few seconds to gather her courage before risking a breech of the fraught silence.

"Hey..." Dinah winces as much at how tremulous the lame greeting was as at the way Laurel stiffens at hearing it. She berates herself internally, knowing the last thing Laurel needs right now is to hear the doubts regarding her sanity in her girlfriend's voice. After clearing her throat and shaking off the nerves as best she can, Dinah tries again, this time aiming for and successfully achieving a warm concern that any good girlfriend should have upon discovering her partner in such a state. "You okay? You look like you're about ten seconds away from putting Mt. St. Helens to shame."

For a second Laurel just sits there stiff as a board, causing Dinah to hold her breath. She lets it out with a silent prayer of thanks when Laurel heaves a sigh and then runs a shaky hand through her hair.

"It's this fucking case," Laurel says, choice of vocabulary not that surprising. The more stressed – or aroused – she gets, the more f-bombs she drops. "And this fucking opening statement." She gestures wildly toward the notepad as if it were a criminal on trial for felonious assault. "It's just...it's complete and utter dogshit. Patrick Star could construct a better, more persuasive argument. This is the biggest trial of my fucking career and I can't even write an opening statement that would convince a fucking six year old that peas are nasty shit and ice cream is delicious angel food. And I'm just so fucking frustrated and..."

Trailing off, Laurel growls, then sighs again before finally shifting so she can look at Dinah. There is a liquid desperation in her eyes that reveals how close to the edge she is currently teetering.

"I'm at my wits end here, Dinah. I cannot afford to fuck this up. My entire fucking future is riding on the outcome of this case. The Governor has been watching my every move, breathing down my neck twenty-four seven, pressuring me to deliver on this with an unspoken or else hanging over my head like a fucking Damoclean Sword of political homicide. Not only that, but I have an opportunity to really put myself out there, you know? Everyone knows me as Laurel Lance, back from the dead, used to be the Black Fucking Canary or Laurel Lance the unerring crusader for justice. But you know what? I have ambitions. I have aspirations. I'm not that meek Laurel that derived genuine satisfaction putting bad guys behind bars. You know that better than anyone.

"I need challenges, I need high stakes to survive. I can't do mundane, Dinah. I just can't. I like the limelight. I thrive in it. It's exciting and addictive and I'm not ready to fade into obscurity. I don't want to just be a D.A. for a couple more terms and then slink into private practice with my tail between my legs. I want more. I wanna shoot for the stars, 'cause otherwise what's the fucking point? And this case? This is my chance to do that. To make a name for myself in influential circles beyond Star City. Beyond California, even! People in D.C. are following this case. Did you know that? And yet as with everything else, I'm fixing prove to them that I'm nothing but a gargantuan fucking failure. Fuck!"

That last exclamation is punctuated by a fist slamming so forcefully into the dense oak coffee table all of the knickknacks on it clatter and shuffle or are knocked off entirely.

For a second, Dinah just stares at Laurel, a bit flabbergasted at that tirade. All of it, not just the abuse of the table. She's always known a quiet life was not in the cards so long as they are together. Laurel was right about that. There is no getting around who Laurel is as a person. She is as she said. An ambitious daredevil who loves the spotlight and craves the trappings of power. Turning over a newish leaf has not changed those aspects of her character, which is perfectly fine with Dinah. She loves Laurel exactly as she is. It's just...well, she never quite connected those traits to a desire for a political career, and that's exactly what the subtext indicated. Maybe she simply never wanted to. Being the partner of a city councilwoman at most was all she really envisioned.

Now that she's been clued in that Laurel is aiming higher, way higher if her ability to read Laurel is a reliable judge, she finds herself surprisingly willing to make some concessions to help facilitate her partner's so-called aspirations. Is it ideal for her to put their private life up for even more public consumption than it already is? No, not really. But if that's what she has to do to accommodate Laurel's professional ambitions, then she is up for giving it a try. That isn't to say it will work. There is every chance putting their relationship under a microscope will signify impending doom. However, there is also a chance that in helping Laurel spread her wings and fly, she'll discover something new about herself as well. And that is an exciting prospect for someone who is also known for pushing boundaries. The leaps from farm girl to Marine to cop to Black Canary have all been pretty spectacular. So what's one more?

First Lady of California does sound kinda nice.

"Are you just gonna stand there and stare at me? Did I finally scare some sense into you?"

Startled out of her thoughts, Dinah returns her focus to Laurel, whose brows are drawn in tightly and whose lips are pursed in that moody way no one else can accurately replicate. She hadn't meant to leave Laurel hanging, and evidently Laurel took it the wrong way.

Recognizing this moment as critical, Dinah springs into action. "No, no," she says, moving as she talks. "I was just a little stunned by that...outburst. I'm actually kinda glad you got all that out in the open instead of dwelling upon it until it ate you alive. Just...look, I know you're upset, but there's really no need to take it out on the furniture. I assure you, Counselor, the coffee table is innocent."

Ignoring Laurel's scoff, Dinah strides over to the sofa where she approaches danger without a second thought. Three years ago she would never have been so bold seeing as this Laurel Lance is a tempestuous woman by any conceivable standard of comparison. At least once every couple of weeks, at minimum on a monthly basis, Laurel summons up potentially catastrophic hurricanes, which if left to their devices would plow through their relationship with all the tact and delicacy of an irate bull in a china shop. Thankfully by now Dinah has plenty of experience dealing with them. Her ability to forecast Laurel's moods is legendary, and as for actually dealing with them? Well, their friends don't call her the Siren Whisperer for nothing…

Once at the arm of the couch, she bends over to reach for Laurel's hand. Expecting resistance, she is pleasantly surprised when her girlfriend responds positively by taking her hand and lacing their fingers together.

"C'mere for a sec," Dinah says, tugging on Laurel's hand. When Laurel does not obey, she tries again with a bit more force, then adds, "Opening statements can wait, Miss Lance. Right now there is an amazing, loving, and extraordinarily patient girlfriend in dire need of a hug that she happens to think will be mutually beneficial. Perhaps we can have a sidebar to address that very critical and time sensitive matter."

A crack in Laurel's foul mood appears in the form of one corner of her lips quirking up. "Going to shamelessly manipulate me with flowery legalese are you?"

Dinah smirks. "Depends. Is it working?"

Shaking her head, Laurel chuckles. A second later, she pushes off the couch to stand. "Always does," she says, and when pulled close, melts into Dinah's waiting embrace.

For the longest time they just stand there in their living room holding each other, gently swaying to the melody of an important song that Dinah hums for both of their enjoyment. Slowly but surely the coil of irritation and rage that was Laurel unfurls until she is pliant and relaxed and fully ensconced in the heady atmosphere of their love. As sense and control return to Laurel, neither are in a hurry to escape the cocoon of warmth surrounding them, so they remain locked together, indulging in the sensation of their bodies in full contact from hips to shoulders, reveling in one another's scent, hands exploring fit frames both over and under items of clothing, all the while exchanging languid kisses or foreheads resting together as they stare at one other with indescribable adoration and devotion on full display.

This is one of Dinah's favorite things to do – just be with the woman she loves in her arms as every last one of her cares fades away into the background. Her buddies in the Marines always used to affectionately tease her about being so touchy-feely with her romantic partners. Said that real Marines stormed the beaches, fought like devils, then extracted with all due diligence. Of course, they were just breaking her balls, as most of them were unarguably whipped, but she never did escape their nickname for her: Huggy Bear. The label didn't bother Dinah. On the contrary, she wore it with pride. In the field, she was all Marine but at home she was all woman. Those that love her understand and accept the dichotomy. Still do.

Laurel took a while to adjust, having never been the cuddly type, but she has since been at least partially converted to Dinah's soft approach to romance. Which is great because now Dinah can throw on some sultry jazz whenever she's in the mood and drag Laurel into the living room to slow dance to Etta James's sultry crooning, Miles Davis' soulful trumpeting, or Charlie Parker's impassioned saxophone until their feet and legs ache. There are also times just like this when both are content to dwell inside the warm bubble of their love without a care for anything or anyone else. Enveloped by Laurel's smell, remnants of hazelnut coffee on her breath and the gentle fragrant spice of her perfume, and blanketed by the love pouring out from Laurel through her eyes and lips and fingertips, the entire world could go up in flames and Dinah couldn't be bothered to give a damn. This is her heaven, and it if were up to her she would never leave it.

But as Solomon so wisely wrote many thousands of years ago, there is a time for everything under heaven to end. As comfy and happy as she is right now, the reason she initiated this embrace remains an elephant in the room that must be addressed. She can't let Laurel go on like this or the next time she might come home to a trashed apartment. Or worse.

Breaking away from Laurel, albeit reluctantly, Dinah maneuvers them both back to the couch. After seating herself, she encourages Laurel to join her.

"Guess there's no getting out of talking it through this time, huh?" Laurel asks, looking embarrassed and at the same time afraid. Not of Dinah, but of herself, how she has been reacting to this case, and at how she has been wriggling her way out of talking out her issues with Dinah at every turn. The time for deflections and avoidance is over. For them both.

"Afraid not, babe," Dinah says, then pats Laurel's hand comfortingly. "This case has been eating you up. You're irritable – well more irritable than usual –" that earns her a glare, "and it isn't just because of your career being on the line. By the way, I just want to say, I didn't know you had your sights set on climbing the ladder so high. But if that's what you want, I'm with you. A hundred percent."

"Really?"

Laurel sounds as surprised as she looks when she shouldn't. Dinah has been nothing but supportive of her career. As a woman in a profession even more male-oriented than practicing public law, she is well versed in navigating the unfair hardships of gender inequality in the workplace as well as the complex social webs that spring up in a mixed gender environment. Granted, being a Marine more than prepared her for the culture shock of being an ambitious woman in primarily male dominated profession, but that isn't to say it was always easy. More than a few hateful pricks and handsy sleazeballs had to learn the hard way that she doesn't take shit from anyone, no matter how large and in charge they may be. While Laurel's venture as D.A. has been far less problematic on that front, the trauma she experienced at the whims of abusive men before assuming Earth-1 Laurel's life made Dinah's pre-cop days seem like a picnic. For both that reason and her own experiences in the workplace, she would never stand in the way of Laurel's dreams. And that wasn't taking into consideration the more simple motive for her support, that she loves Laurel and only wants the best for her.

So, Dinah is a tad bit offended that Laurel might have assumed she would throw a hissy fit or something after learning about her ambitions. That said, she abstains from making a scene over it since she can't deny she has only really been supportive of Laurel's current career track. They have yet to discuss at any length about where they want to be professionally five or ten years down the road. If this conversation is any indication, they should do so before long.

There is only one major reason Dinah can think of off the top of her head as to why they haven't broached the matter, namely Laurel's reticence to discuss where their relationship is headed. God knows Laurel has been let down and betrayed and burned by love too many times to allow herself the luxury of dreaming of a future outside of fighting for her survival. So it isn't a big shock that she doesn't seem to be operating with an end goal in sight as far as their relationship is concerned.

Dinah, on the other hand, has stubbornly clung to her idealistic vision of the future, so she knows where she wants it to be heading. But a relationship is a two-way street that she cannot navigate solo. Before long, she needs to figure out where Laurel stands as far as what she ultimately wants out of this relationship. Otherwise what are they doing? Spinning their wheels. That's what.

"Of course," Dinah finally answers aloud, careful to keep any offense from slipping into her tone. "I love you. I want you to be happy, and not just with our home life. It's just as important to me that you're being fulfilled by your job. Do you believe that?"

For a second Laurel stares at her in disbelief that is quickly banished by awe. "Yeah..." Her response is whispered so low that it is barely audible, so when Dinah arches a brow indicating she requires clarification, Laurel obliges. "Yes, I believe you. Thank you. That...hearing you say that means more to me than I can really explain."

Dinah doesn't agree. She thinks Laurel is perfectly capable of explaining it, but is merely too stubborn and prideful to admit she derives pleasure from receiving Dinah's validation. Why Laurel is so reluctant to confess to such when she has no trouble doing so in the bedroom is a minor inconvenience Dinah has yet to resolve. She is making observable progress, though!

"Oh, I think I have pretty good idea," she says, unwilling to press that particular issue at present when there are other things to address. "But that's not important right now. What's important right now is why you're all twisted up about this case. I've not seen you like this in a long time, and I have to admit it scares me."

Laurel sighs in frustration then pinches the bridge of her nose before responding. "I'm sorry about that. I never want to scare you. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do. That's why it's scary. If you're not trying to do it, it means something is really wrong. So what is it?"

Another sigh, this one more plaintive and hesitant. "It's about Susie."

"The Ingrams' daughter that was hiding under her bed while her parents were being slaughtered in the next room?"

Dinah will never forget walking into the apartment and seeing that trembling child sandwiched between two detectives who were trying to take her statement. As Captain, she had responded personally to the murder of two prominent members of Star City's upper crust, a family with links that stretched the breadth of the country all the way into the D.C. establishment. The last thing she expected was to be forced to attempt extracting vital information about the crime from a terrified, traumatized seven year old. She didn't make much headway at all, nor did anyone else who tried, before ordering everyone to leave the girl alone until Child Services arrived. And then Laurel waltzed in and everything changed.

"That's her," Laurel says, visage regaining a semblance of vitality as she talks about little Susan Ingram. "Remember I had to interview her a couple times right after the incident and she, uh...weirdly took a shine to me? And how she wasn't really talking to anybody else, so guess who got to spend bunches of quality time with her?"

Dinah smiles, remembering how Susie would cling to Laurel's leg or hand and would never stray much more than a couple steps from the woman who apparently reminded her a lot of her mother. It was half adorable and half amusing watching Laurel discreetly flail for balance at being the sole recipient of a traumatized child's trust.

"Sure. You acted all put out about it but secretly you fell in love with that little girl just like everybody else did. Me included." And that much was undeniably true. When Laurel informed Susie that Dinah was her girlfriend, it was as if she was suddenly inducted into the club. After that, she was present – as was Laurel – at every last one of Susie's official interviews about her parents' deaths. It was impossible not to love a child who could melt through Laurel Lance's sturdy defenses with such breathtaking ease and speed.

"Yeah...well," Laurel winces subtly, "I may have told her about losing my dad and then given her my word I would make sure the man that took her mom and dad away would never walk the streets again." She pauses then, her eyes misting up as she searches for something from Dinah that she is apparently having trouble finding. "Did I lie to her, Dinah? Am I gonna break that little girl's heart? Am I gonna be responsible for sending her into a death spiral like what happened to me after my dad's killer went free? Am I going to turn that precious, innocent child into me? A broken, deranged killer with no conscience."

Her own heart breaking for Laurel and Susie, Dinah shifts on the sofa, angling in toward Laurel so that their knees are touching. She adds her other hand to where she's holding on to Laurel's, one clasping the underside of Laurel's wrist while the other palms the top of her hand.

"Baby, no. First of all, you aren't broken or deranged, and you most certainly have a conscience. You wouldn't care what happens to Susie otherwise. Secondly, I don't believe for a single second that you will let her down. You're going to win this case and give her and her parents the justice they deserve. I know it."

Doubt and self-recrimination marring her features, Laurel pulls her hands away to run them fretfully through her hair. "How? How can you be so confident when I'm not?"

Absently, Dinah reaches out to tuck a strand of loose hair behind Laurel's ear. "'Cause I know you. Sometimes I think better than you know yourself. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Laurel Lance does not make empty promises."

"Maybe you'll change your mind after you read my opening statement," Laurel replies, then groans miserably. "It's really bad..."

"Doubtful. I've always thought you have a unique way with words. Most juries you've addressed seem to have agreed with me." Smiling, Dinah nudges Laurel's shoulder then gestures toward the offending notepad that seems to be the subject of ninety percent of Laurel's ire. "But I know better than to marginalize your concerns, so let's see it. And before you object due to my blatant conflict of interest, I'll be as unbiased as I can. Sound fair?"

With a drawn out sigh, Laurel returns a hesitant nod. "Yeah. Okay. But only because I trust you won't blow smoke up my ass." She then retrieves the notepad and extends it toward Dinah with a slightly unsteady hand.

Reminded of how critical it is to give an honest opinion without being unduly harsh, something she has become adept at living with a woman whose temper frequently has a hair trigger, Dinah respectfully accepts the notepad. "I won't," she says. "I promise." And then, when Laurel settles back into the cushions, legs crossed and arms folded over her chest, she begins to read.

From the first word, it was clear Laurel's stressing was for nothing. The rest of the opening statement does nothing to contradict that assessment. It is, in her opinion, an incredible speech worthy of being represented upon the silver screen.

"Laurel...this is amazing," she croons after finishing the captivating read. Unsurprisingly, Laurel glares at her dubiously. "Seriously! I'm not trying to spare your feelings because I love you. I actually think it's perfect."

Laurel huffs, stubbornly refusing to accept the praise – which is fairly typical, albeit less so now than when they first started dating. "You said it before. You're biased."

"Obviously. But that doesn't mean I can't recognize a winning argument. I've sat through my fair share of trials, and heard a lot of opening statements. And this?" Dinah brandishes the notepad as if it were the smoking gun in her case to prove Laurel is overreacting. "This is so, so good. But..." tossing the notepad back onto the coffee table, she retakes Laurel's hand, "if you're still not happy with it, tell me what you think is wrong. Maybe articulating your concerns and then tossing ideas back and forth will help work out the kinks."

That perks Laurel up. "You sure? I know we haven't had dinner yet..."

"Not a problem," Dinah says confidently. "I'll call in for Thai and have it delivered. We can work til it gets here. Sound good?"

"No. It sounds...wonderful." Silence stretches out between them as Laurel worships Dinah with her eyes as if seeing her for the first time all over again. The heated gaze of those electric green irises elicits a delicious shiver that corkscrews down Dinah's spine. "Damn," Laurel says after completing her languid study, strangely enough voicing Dinah's own thoughts. "I really am the world's luckiest bitch. 'Cause you are the best girlfriend in history." Full lips quirk up at one corner. "If I was as smart as I say I am, I probably ought to listen to Felicity, stop beating around the bush and wife you up."

The trailing comment, out of left field as it is, does not even phase Dinah. Truth be told, she's been fantasizing about taking their relationship to the next level for a while now. There is little else she wants more in the world than to become Mrs. Laurel Lance.

"Amen, babe. From your lips to God's ears," she replies enthusiastically, catching Laurel completely off guard.

"Are you...actually being serious?" Laurel responds, visibly shaken, waves of insecurity pouring off her. "You'd really…? I mean, you wanna…? You would...to me?"

"Laurel. Jesus." Ashamed of herself for leaving any room for doubt, Dinah heaves a self-recriminatory sigh as she scrubs a hand over her face. "I guess I have to work on my communication skills as much as you do, because of course I do." Deciding that there is no time like the present to get started on that noble goal, she gently squeezes Laurel's hand, willing her to understand just how much she really does want to get married. "I've been thinking about it for so long I already have a million ideas about bridesmaid dresses and venues and catering options." When Laurel's eyes widen comically, Dinah realizes how that might sound like an actual proposal. Chuckling, she shakes her head lightly, "Don't freak out, babe. I'm not asking right now. I'm afraid with me being a traditional girl I am in the romance department, that particular ball is in your court. That being said, at least now you know what my answer will be."

Another briefer silence descends, during which Laurel stares at Dinah in utter amazement and worries at her bottom lip. "By chance, is it the same answer you'd give if I asked you for a kiss?" she asks after a few seconds of waging an internal battle with a part of herself Dinah can already guess is making a fuss out of this.

No doubt it will not be the last time Laurel's dark side has cause or opportunity to undermine the direction their relationship will hopefully be taking – and very soon if Dinah has any say in the matter.

Dinah's answering smile is as much to tease as it is an invitation. "I don't know, Miss Lance. Why don't you woman up and find out."

"Oooo. A challenge. I likey. Alright. So..." Without prompting, Laurel fluidly slides off the couch and onto her knees. Once situated between Dinah's knees, she offers her hands palm up. And when Dinah slides her hands into Laurel's, those mesmerizing green eyes begin to dance. "Dinah Miriam Drake," Laurel says, all formal and serious yet with the stirrings of an indescribable passion and devotion underscored by a hint of playful affection. "Will you do me the extraordinary privilege of allowing me to kiss you?"

Tears well up in Dinah's eyes at the subtext to a query that was clearly a test run for a much more important one to come. Barely able to contain her urge to jump Laurel's bones on the spot and with her heart soaring through clouds of pure saccharine joy, she smiles. This is the easiest question she has ever been asked. Or at least it will be until she gets asked that other one. Doesn't matter, though. To both, her answer is the same.

"Yes."

#arrow fanfic #dinahsiren #dinah drake #laurel lance #black siren #laurel x dinah #dinah is a certified siren whisperer y'all

[altheaselmaisadoradarsey]

My thoughts on Hamilton West End

Thoughts on Hamilton West End 21/12/17 (night after opening!)

(This is long as shit and very messy it's full of first impressions and random things I've remembered (mainly the funny bits ngl) all mixed up together I apologise but I needed to get it out somehow cos I'm not good at expressing emotions lol, also the words funny, excited and hyper are prolly overused i apologise)

Bearing in mind I have not seen the bway show and the creative team is largely the same so I'm sure I'll talk a Talk about thinks that are similar in both

Vic pal theatre is stunning it's just been renovated our seats were sick even though we were about half way up the upper circle we had a brilliant view of the stage and the stage still felt really close

On a vaguely related note I wore my 'AND PEGGY' baseball cap and 3 of the stewards said they liked it it was cute

Act 1

FIRST THINGS FIRST THE CHOREOGRAPHY WAS STUNNING. A mash up of hip hop, modern and ballet. How you even think if that I don't know. There was always SO MUCH going on and the energy was constant - wether they were synchronised doing the same thing or all doing something different from the Schuyler sisters on the high walkway or the ensemble doing lifts in pairs even or whatever it just made me wanna dance (lol bc I can't) I can't talk about it enough but I'll stop now because I'm not eloquent enough.

Burr - voice is really unique and it was kinda weird at first (may be due to being used to Leslie) but you got used to it and I think reall suited the character? His mannerisms and physicality were SO BURR. Also was really funny! All his little one liners were done really funny-ly and well thought out.

Before they had King George to do a little announcement about phones and I love it also meant I was ready for the dum dum dumdum bc I was super nervous (in a good way?)

A.ham (song) - ahh it's such a good intro. when burr first came on there was an orange yellow light behind him and it made a super long shadow onto the stage and it was p o w e r f u l.

When they all came to the front of the stage in a line I was so excited because I've been waiting for that moment for 2 years

I LOVED Jamel Westman as Ham he was sick. He's just come out of RADA how do you deal with taking on a part like that with such little experience whoa . I must say that I think I liked him a lot more in act 2 than act 1 he seemed a bit stiff in act 1 but that may have been be I'm used to Lin who I think played him more nerdy and hyper? Kinda. I love both but Westman was insane. Also had a really nice singing voice.

Angelica slated my entire being Rachel John is perfect for that part

George Washington had a husky singing voice and it suited him so well

KING GEORGE III is possibly my favourite character ever he's so funny and extra.

I don't think Michael Jibson had the best singing I've heard in that role (but like who can even sing that it's high to kudos to him for hitting those notes) his 'kill your friends and family' was hilarious he sang the up until 'and family' which he said really seriously and then he left a massive pause where he just stared at the audience. I giggled. On the last da da dadadaaa's he did a little shoulder wiggle which was funny too! There was a couple of points over the three songs where he held long notes for even longer than necessary which was good too

Now my friends went and saw it in previews a couple of weeks ago and said they didn't really like Rachel Ann Go as Eliza so I did go in expecting to not like her as much ( I trust my friends opinions) which obviously wasn't great and I tried to go in with an open mind but I kinda understand why you might not like her however overall I thought she was good and I liked her a lot more in act 2 than act 1. At first I felt she was almost too excitable and hyper which more of a Peggy thing (speaking of, Peggy was really grumpy and cute which was funny) although Eliza did become a lot more restrained throughout the show which I think was a good choice as it helped show age and I think was more Eliza anyway. I thought her Best of Wives and Best of Women was perfect though. He American ACCENT though was not great I hate to say it but it was very British a lot of the time and in the 'ohhh I do I do I do I dooo' bit in helpless she sounded cockney? I'm sorry how

AWE IN HELPLESS ANGELICA COULDN'T GET ELIZA'S VEIL ON IN TIME SHE TRIED LIKE TWICE AND IT JUST SLID RIGHT IFF I FELT SO BAD It wasn't super noticeable though and things are bound to go wrong

In story of tonight reprise when Lauren's goes I've seen wonders great and small they all looked at Laf bc he was really short it was funny

Most of Wait for it was really still which was nice as it gave a rest from the crazy continual movement and action from the last few scenes. Also Burr has a peng voice

Ten duel commandments was super intense ahh

YORKTOWN WAS SO EXCITING IVE SEEEN ALL GHE PROMOS FOR THAT SONG AND TO ACTUALLY SEE IT LIVE SO EXHILARATING Westman was a stern leader and it worked really well

You could just tell that the audience thought it was the end of act one but NOPE SIT DOWN WE STILL GOT MORE

Also cheer on "immigrants: we get the job done" was British and polite but still there and I was READY FOR IT

on 'I'm so blue' in What Comes Next? Kings George did a little frustrated stamp and the red light he was standing snapped to blue it was good

Dear theodosia was super cute Burr and Ham were in matching costumes but Burr's waistcoat was purple and Ham's was green

Laurens' death was SAD but Cleve September is PERFECT for that role

Felt the transition from Laurens' death to not stop was bit quick, like I needed to feel sad for longer, it just sort of went straight into not stop

NON-STOP DAMN after the treasury or state bit Ham's 'lEtS gO' was so exciteable loved it.

On angelicas as it about her husband they got to the don't forget to writteee part and Angelica got taken away on the revolve Eliza was put into her place it was SO CLEVER near the end the staircase came into the middle and Washington was on the top and it was I N T E N S E

Clapped a freaking lot at the end of act one

Act 2

Dad called jeferson 'purple rain prince guy'

Seriously though the purple velvet was A Look

SUCH AN CRAZY Jefferson! Did loads of dancing and jumping and twirls is was so funny how he would just suddenly go into it

Ham snaked Washington when going in for a handshake he fully cut him off

I'm Take A Break they changed "John Adams doesn't have a real job anyway" to "the Vice President is not a real job anyway" which I think was changed so it's clearer to the audience who they're talking about

The cabinet battles were fab like I said before Westman was a calmer Hamilton but was more realistic 'We will reconvene after a brief reset' was said really sweetly to the audience like nothing was going wrong it was funny

Before Say No To This my friend just whispered Owh Dear really quietly and honestly? Mood

Christine Allado did a super sultry voice which was strong but deffo works for Maria.

The room where it happens was sick!!!

At one point the whole stage was in red lighting except for a bright white box that Burr was in it was so cool. Also VOCALS in this were amazing The Riffs!!!!

Cleve September as Phillip was cute you could really see the age difference between 9 and 19

The vocals in One Last Time we great "George Washington's going homeeeee" had me shook

In I Know Him King George seemed really crazy and manically smiled on 'that poor man their going to eat him alive'

And the crazy laughs at the end was brilliantly MANIC

He didn't leave at the end of his song just sat lower stage right and danced to the beginning of The Adams Administration which was funny but what was even better was that half way through his little introduction Burr noticed the king watching a gave him a odd look and the king just did a hand wave to tell him to continue and kept shimmying

WESTMAN'S VOICE IN HURRICANE WAS BEAUTIFUL

REYNOLDS PAMPHLET WAS FUNNY RVEN THOUGH I FELT BAD JEFFERSON LOOKED SO HAPPY AMD THE SET LOOKED REALLY COOL WITH ALL THE PAPERD FLYINV AROUND HAM BUT I COULDN'T EVEN FOCUS ON ANGELICAS BiT BECAUSE I WAS BUSY LAUGHING AT KING GEORGE DANCING WITH THE CHORUS AND ADDING HIS ONE SHEET IF PAPER TO THE MESS

oh but I loved was when Angelica arrived and the ensemble too way her bags in one motion it was slick and I enjoyed it

Burn was nice but I think Rachelle Ann Go made it a bit too vibrato-y which became kind of annoying (also I kinda felt though the entire thing she was forcing a really classical voice which was nice but didn't really work) her voice is amazing though apart from that and I really felt the reserved sorta anger in the performance

Blow Is All Away was SAD I COULD HEAR EVERYONE ONE CRYING AROUND ME, good dying (lol) on September's part

I wasn't a fan of Eliza's scream/cry when Phillip died I'm not sure what it was I didn't like but her counting WITH him was PErFECT

It's Quiet Uptown is the saddest thing ever lemme tell you. I don't cry. I cannot remember the last time I cried, particularly not at normal sad things. I saw Les Mis two weeks ago and didn't even get tear-y, so you can imagine how freaking sad this song has to be to get me to almost cry. I had pretty watery eyes and one hell of a snotty nose. It was bad. The lines like 'the unimaginable' were the worst. If you thing the cast recording is sad just wait until you see it live

After Jefferson came in with "can we get back to politics" he said it like he was tired of all the sad personal stuff which was funny and the Madison came on saying please and his voice broke like he had been crying at It's Quiet Uptown as well which was funny and it provided some well needed comic relief

When ham said he was voting for Jefferson Jeff did his twirls and dances again which was great and burr looked SO MAD

Your Obedient Servant was passive aggressive af it was great. And the ensemble was doing like lighthearted ballet and around them which actually worked really well Line change from "weehawkin, dawn" to "New Jersey, dawn" I'm assuming cos they've mentioned New Jersey more so it was clearer? Idk

Like I already said Best if Wives And Best of Women was 10/10 perfect

Ok so the world was wide enough Giles Terra (Burr) didn't do The Line™ in a really emotional way he did IT angry bc let's be honest you don't wanna compete yourself to Leslie on that so I enjoyed the change. HAMS SPEACH WHEN HE GEST SHOT IS SO GOOD I COULD NOT DEAL WITH IT

Also the choreo when Burr says "they row job back across the Hudson" they did this cool rowing move next to Ham and with the revolve it looked like they were on a boat!

I thought Eliza was quite good in WLWDWTYS "the orphanage" is such a nice bit

The gasp at the end was not made clear however. I understand it as Eliza seeing the audience and realising that her work has come true and that the legacy continues right? I only know that bc I read it beforehand, I think it could have been made clearer by the house lights come if up slightly so the audience knows Eliza seeing us. Also the way the gasp/hand move was done it made it seam Eliza was about to go into some really stereotypical opera singing? I just think she could have referenced the audience more but it's a really cute idea that I like.

All the cast bowed at the same time it was so cute and important bc everyone put in so much effort and they all deserved to be together

Straight up standing ovation oc

The play out music at the end was a really jazzy mashup of the songs and if my brain had been fully functioning after the show I would remember what songs but it was sick and they did the classic bum bumbumbum bum bum bum! At the end and the red and white bulls eye lighting they had for the duels flashed it was sick

SPEAKING OF LIGHTING IT WAS INCREDIBLE

THERE WAS LIKE A LIGHTING CUE EVERY 3 SECONDS I DINT KNOW HOW THAY MANAGED IT BUT IT WAS ALL SO WELL THOUGHT OUT AND CLEVER LIKE THERE WAS LITTLE LIGHTS AROUND THE EDGES LIKE STREET GRATES THAT IF LIKE BURR WAS IN ONE SIDE IF THE STAGE AND HAM ON OTHER THE GRATES WOULD BE ORANGE ON ONE SIDE AND BLUE ON THE OTHER. EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL. Yes I'm gonna rant bc techies don't get enough respect

I've definitely missed so many things I wanted to put here but I was quite overwhelmed which I think is understandable when I've been waiting for over two years for it but it was so so worth it.

Ok I'm done I might add more if I remember goodnight folks

#Hamilton #Hamilton West End #personal #thoughts #refff #musicals #Alexander Hamilton #Aaron Burr #Lin Manuel Miranda

[ezatluba]

Stressed pets: How to stop it now and when you go back to work

By Sandee LaMotte

April 25, 2020

Pets offer the opportunity for different generations to connect, easing the way toward deeper communications, fostering healthy bonding and reducing loneliness.

Happy dogs chasing balls on their fourth walk of the day. Purring puffs of fluff who can't wait to snuggle with pet parents miraculously home all day. These are the images we may have of sheltering with our pets during the age of coronavirus.

For some pets, that may well be true. For others used to more regular routines and serious alone time, the sudden reality of 24/7 intimacy could be nerve-racking, even catastrophic, especially if there are small children in the home."It can be overwhelming for pets when kids are home all the time, especially infants and toddlers. which is why they should never be left alone with the pet, not even for 30 seconds," said Dr. John Howe, the president of the American Veterinary Medical Association.

"Even the nicest dog in the world can bite. In fact there are 4.5 million dog bites a year in America, and over 800,000 of them need medical attention," Howe said. "Over half the bites are to children, and it's usually a serious injury when it happens to a child."Dogs and cats really need a safe place where they feel comfortable, where they can go and not be bothered," he said, "especially if there's children in the house."We transfer our stress, tooTo make matters worse, many of us humans are incredibly stressed right now. We're worried about our health and that of our loved ones during the pandemic. We're working long hours from home or fretting over the loss of a job. We're going stir crazy from social isolation or tense from being with the same people without a break.

While we may think we're handling all that well, our pets will recognize our tension and anxiety -- and may make it their own."You might think you're internalizing everything, but what we know from studies on both humans and animals is that we are not. There's physical manifestations that are probably even more obvious to our dogs and cats than ourselves," said Dr. Dana Varble, the chief veterinary officer for the North American Veterinary Community."Their emotions can be a reflection of ours because they are so tightly bonded with us," said veterinarian Dr. Meredith Montgomery, a clinical assistant professor of shelter medicine at the University of Florida.Montgomery, who specializes in decreasing stress for shelter dogs and cats, has seen it firsthand while isolating with four medically rescued cats and a dog.

Her cats have not reacted well to the constant din and boundless energy of her two-year-old toddler, who's now home instead of at day care most of the day."None of my cats particularly enjoy each other. So what's been very important for us in keeping a peaceful household is that they all have their own space within the home," Montgomery said. She's done that by using baby gates to provide some respite and encourages "vertical space within the home and giving each cat access to established areas, like boxes, where they can hide."How to tell if your pet is stressedRealize that there aren't specific signs that will apply to every dog or cat, experts said."Just like us, every dog or cat is an individual," Montgomery said. "So not only are different things going to stress them, but they also might have different and unique thresholds for stress."

Stressed dogs can startle, jumping at the slightest sound or movement. Some shake and shiver, vocalize excessively or drool. They can use self-calming techniques, such as yawning, lip licking, excessive grooming or spinning. Oddly, tense and upset dogs can also look depressed, showing a lack of appetite or energy. At times they can get diarrhea or urinate or defecate more often. And, of course, dogs can become uncharacteristically aggressive, snapping or growling. Cats, on the other hand, are more difficult to read, said experts. You have to look for more subtle signs, such as overgrooming, increased vocalization, lack of appetite, hiding or acting standoffish and, of course, suddenly ignoring their litter box.

"Cats will usually give you some little hint and if you ignore it, that's when they start to poop on the bed, pee on the couch, go outside the litter box," Howe said. While you should always check with your vet to make sure there's no urinary infection, stress itself can cause significant problems, he said."In fact, sometimes cats get a hemorrhagic cystitis where they start peeing blood, and it's just from stress, not from infection," Howe said.Help your dog and cat calm downIt's all about routine. For both species, the main solution is to stick to a regular regimen, just as you would do with a young child, experts said."They love to have the same routine," Howe said. "Getting up at the same time, eating at the same time, playing at the same time. That's the key."Use pet gates and crates. If a dog is crate trained, it can be very soothing for them to go back to their own special place, Howe said."They're safe, they're comfortable, and it's an opportunity for them to practice independence in their own space," he said. The use of baby and pet gates or barriers can also help keep pets and children separated, he added."Gates are so good to have while you're doing something like cooking, when you can't give the kids or dog direct supervision," Howe said.Play species-specific music. It's actually true that music does soothe the savage soul.

"Something that I use in the shelters and high-volume spay-neuter facilities that I've worked in is playing music," Montgomery said. "I have used slow-paced classical music at a low volume for 'quiet hour' with shelter dogs." She said that allows them time for decompression with a food puzzle or "treat-filled Kong, providing a healthy, appropriate chewing outlet."There are even species-specific tunes. A study published in 2015 found that cats preferred such feline-favorite sounds such as chirping, purring and the sucking sound of nursing kittens, mixed in with some classical music strains. You and your cat can listen here, while Spotify and other websites provide playlists for dogs.Keep grooming and playing. Dogs need regular exercise and playtime with their owners, experts said. If you're suddenly sitting on your couch all day instead, you'll soon see the signs of distress in your pet.

Cats, too, need daily play that mimics what they would do in the wild. Playing with toys such as feather spinners and puzzles that contain treats can energize cats and keep them happy. "Play with them, stimulate their hunting instincts, then feed them," Howe suggested. After all, big cats in the wild rest after a good hunt and a full tummy.Hopefully, grooming is part of your regular routine as good health care for your dog or cat. When it comes to calming, if your cat likes to be brushed, that's often a winner. "Grooming is very soothing to most cats," Howe said.Check your litter box etiquette. Most cat owners already know they need to keep the litter boxes sparkling clean by scooping often. Cat are also very sensitive to the type of litter (most like sandy or clay-based) and scent (they prefer no scent). The litter box should be big enough for the cat to turn around in -- bigger is better -- and there should be a litter box on every level of your home. And if you have multiple cats?

"If you have two cats, you have three litter boxes spaced throughout the house, if you have three cats, add another," Montgomery said. The rule is to always have one more litter box than the total number of cats in the home. It's also a good idea not to have a covering on a litter box, especially in multi-cat households, as cats feel most vulnerable while urinating or defecating, experts said.Use positive, not negative reinforcement. Having a dog rip up clothing or paper or your cat starting to scratch the couch or either species offering a sudden "gift" of pee or poop may seem like a personal affront, but experts said you should never take it personally."Dogs, and potentially cats, may be experiencing severe anxiety, which results in these fear-based or anxiety-based behaviors," Montgomery said. "But it's not some form of retribution against the owners. It's because they're experiencing a really heightened emotional state."

Positive reinforcement, such as providing treats when the cat does go in the litter box or the dog poops outside, is the best way to solve behavior problems, experts said. "Unfortunately one of the harder things to do is to ignore bad behavior," Varble said. "But say your dog is bugging you, constantly nudging you. If they give up and they go away to their bed, it's really important at that moment to go over to your dog and say, 'Oh, good dog sitting on your bed. Do the petting there, reinforce that."Keep trying. If problems continue, veterinarians want you to reach out, as they are quite used to helping owners with such behaviors. Vets may suggest pheromone diffusers -- made for both dogs and cats -- that you can put in the home to promote relaxation and calm nerves. Your vet may prescribe additional anxiety medications, or your vet may suggest a consultation with a behavioral specialist."The American College of Veterinary Behaviorists, ACVB, has a great website to find a veterinary behavioral expert that can do a consult with you," Varble said. "And some of those behaviorists are already set up to do via the phone or video." Getting your pet ready for your return to workAgain, routine is king. "Try and maintain some sort of typical work schedule as best you can right now," said Varble. "The more that we stick to typical work schedule and routine, the better our pets are going to adapt when we go back to work."

That includes feeding, exercising, playing and grooming at about the same times each day, experts said. But if you've fallen off schedule while sheltering (and who hasn't), don't fret."If you know you're going to go back to work in 10 days or so, start getting yourself and your animal on a more typical schedule," Montgomery said. "Focus on doing things that you have been doing, like taking them for a short walk, and make sure you're still fitting in those activities after your return to work."Consider crate training: If you haven't taught your dog how to stay in a crate, that might be a good choice now, experts said. "Now while you're still home, get your dog used to being in the crate," Howe said. "You can still walk by and talk to your dog, but getting them used to the crate if you can't leave them loose is very important."Keep up the playtime. Just because you're not there in the house all day doesn't mean you can't have "quality time" with your pet, experts said."What may this look like? Ten to 30 minutes of play with a favorite wand toy, special brushing session (if liked by your pet), a walk with your leashed dog, or time spent with a favorite toy playing fetch or tug-of-war," Montgomery said, adding that her older dog enjoys "getting one-on-one time for ear scratches with her favorite person."

As for pets with high energy, finding them an appropriate outlet can be important, she said."Daytime, individual dog-walking services may be beneficial as people return to nonessential services," Montgomery said. "Providing food-filled Kongs or feeding toys and puzzles for cats and dogs can also be a way to keep their minds happy and engaged while we are away at work."

Reach out to your vet. Veterinarians want pet owners to reach out for help, both during coronavirus and after."We have a lot of information for the pet-owning public created by veterinarians on our website and they can also find Covid-19-specific information as well," Howe said.

[gemcatvinyl]

Album Review: RATBOY -SCUM

A REVIEW SO SOON AFTER THE ALBUM DROPPED? WOW!

We’re looking at the long awaited debut album from Jordan Cardy, AKA Ratboy. If you’ve been following Ratboy up to this point, you’ll know how long this album took to come out, with some of the singles from SCUM dropping as far back as April 2015!

I’ve been aware of Ratboy for a few years now, I remembering listening to the brilliantly British single Sign On some time ago, and ignorantly complaining about how the songs lyrics were a little hypocritical, considering Jordan was wearing a $300 Supreme Box Logo hoodie in the music video.

Anyway, fast forward to Kendrick Lamar releasing DAMN. and noticing Ratboy in the sample credits to the track LUST. I started to read about their upcoming album, and looked into the yet to be fully released Ratboy clothing line (also called SCUM)

After a little more reading, and seeing the fantastic album cover for SCUM, I gave it a listen.

And I’m really glad I did.

I decided I’d put my thoughts on the interludes separate to the actual tracks, as so it feels a little more concise, and you can skip the stuff on the interludes if you only want my thoughts on the music!!

THE TRACKLIST

WELCOME TO MY WORLD is our introduction to SCUM, a short intro track. The open to this track is legitimately one of my favourite instrumentals of the entire album, it has such a great woozy feeling that really brings you into the album. It then goes into a radio show clip, present on nearly all the interludes, delivered by “Stevie” the presenter for the ever failing “SCUM RADIO” .The fake radio station clips, similar to the ones that appeared on Tyler, the creator’s last two albums Cherry Bomb and Flower Boy, add a lot of humour to the album, as well as tie it together pretty decently.

TURN AROUND M8 is a great energetic opener to the album. The instrumental has a clear Brit-pop influence, the chorus akin to a Blur track. The echo distorted voice samples adds a DIY quirk to the song, as well add to the already dense sample heavy instrumental. I especially like the piano line near the tail of the track. Ratboy’s vocals on this track are delivered with a load of confidence and control, and introduces us well to his quickly recognisable singing voice. A perfect intro to the album.

The shouty intro to REVOLUTION is perhaps at first grating, but it soon becomes brilliantly catchy. The first track of many with a political angle, the lyrics are some of best, and the noisy high energy instrumental fits it well. I especially like the use of the electric organ towards the middle of the track, as well as the weird fairground-esque alarm sample, someone tell me where this is from! Ratboy has a great knack for making a wall of sound effects really engaging, catchy and danceable!

LAIDBACK is our first track that is less angry and loud, and is instead more like a pop punk ballad. Another incredibly catchy song, that is a definite ear worm. with the lyrics, this is one of the more sincere and mature sounding songs on the album. the instrumental is much more simple, driven by live guitar and drums. This song is a lot of fun to listen to, and has the potential to be a much deserving summer hit!

ILL BE WAITING is another more chilled out song, with a clear Brit-pop influence, note the horn lead on the instrumental. Are we sure this isn’t a cover of a lost Blur song? If it is, it’s as good as Blur ever were. My main criticism of this track is how corny the lyrics are. “I changed my number, but i can change it back” is a pretty naff line, honestly. The hopeful feel to the instrumental keeps the track engaging, and makes it another solid track.

MOVE is a return to that brilliant aggression. Its fast pace and booming, disorienting, sample heavy instrumental makes it one the most engaging tracks here. the vocal delivery puts me in mind of The Beastie Boys, with that weird combo of punk and classic hip hop, and I’m sure thats intentional, Jordan is a big fan. The “oh oh oh” choir near the tail end of the track is super reminiscent of Blur’s Girls and Boys, and The end to this track is really satisfying, with a familiar combo of record scratches and string samples. Another standout track.

BOILING POINT Is the loudest track so far, with its heavy guitar and drum clattering. This is the standout political track, with the best lyrics of that type. They are blunt and direct, which flows well against the instrumental. The “OH YEAHHH” sample gives the song a revolutionary feel, you can imagine this in the middle of a protest. The chorus is great, “We all had dreams, When we were young, But now we’re loaded, Just like a gun” and in my opinion the best verse of the album so far, “The world is near boiling point, Seeing Theresa May who we didn’t appoint, Living for the sound of silent missiles, That within one second can reach fifteen miles, Something’s wrong, can’t you see? How can you let people on the street freeze? This is our so-called democracy”

FAKE ID is one of the tracks on the album that we’ve heard various versions of since 2015, and has a DIY feel to it that would make sense as a result. The instrumental has live punk rawness to it. The lyrics tell the story of getting mugged walking home after Ratboy has had his Fake ID declined. The song has a very english feel to it, with references to JD sports, PE (as any UK student will know one of the worst parts of secondary school) and broken fags 🚬. I’m a big fan of the chorus “He said “hand over the money, this ain’t funny. What’s this, are you taking the piss? Where’s your iPhone 6, I ain’t stealing this shit. Come here, bitch” Not the best track here, but still a great song.

GET OVER IT feels like one of the best produced songs, you can tell a lot time and effort went into it. The instrumental is almost solely made of simple drum sample alongside a woozy, summery vocal sample. Its one of the tracks that stands out as unique in the context of the whole album because of this. Ratboy sings through a variety of different filters, is especially like the delivery of “PUT YA FUCKIN HANDS IN THE AIR!” through radio distortion. One of my favourite tracks of the album.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK Is another older track reworked for the album, and has a dizzyingly loud feel to it, with the heavy breakbeat and loud electric guitar. This track is super high energy and raw. LUST ,the Kendrick Lamar track, includes a heavily pitched sample from this song, something which to me makes a lot of sense with the similar angry rawness of DAMN.

SPORTSWEAR is my least favourite song on SCUM. Sorry.The vocal delivery here is some of the weakest in my opinion, the cracked delivery at the start of the chorus is just annoying, and the echo on the majority of the vocals is unnecessary. The lyrics themselves are the best feature of the track, they’re more introspective in content and tone. The instrumental is the wall of sound concept done poorly too. This track is just so weak when its heard alongside so many great tracks.

LEFT 4 DEAD has grown on me a lot. I especially like the slot machine jackpot sample, and the Thames Tv jingle at the start. The instrumental is mainly live instrument driven, and has a great high energy. The delivery of the chorus is very awkward, which I can’t work out if it love or hate, the lyric itself however, “Well, hold on. I’ve got the right amount of money you said you need, Well, I’ve just got to nip up the Co-Op, it’s just down the road, I think they’ve got a working cash machine” is pretty hilarious. Considering this was my least favourite at first, I now really like it.

SIGN ON is I think the oldest Ratboy track on SCUM. Lyrically this is the most British Thing ever. Wetherspoons? Signing on? Scratchcards? very British. The instrumental makes this the most straightforward and rock driven track. Though it’s not of my personal favourites, I love how sincere it feels, like it was recorded in some kids garage late at night. Nice.

EVERYDAY is another Brit-pop heavy fun track, with bittersweet lyrics about working hard, only to stay poor. It has a fun reckless teenager vibe to it, with another fun instrumental. That Jeremy Kyle line is fantastic. Unfortunately this track falls into the background for me against others, though this is one of Ratboy’s best vocal performances.

SCUM ,Our title track, is another heavy high energy rock track, with a busy instrumental. This is the most Jamie T style track, though Ratboy does have a somewhat similar vocal inflection (I prefer Ratboy). A pretty conventional track, tough this doesn’t mean it isn’t great! It feels like the true closer to the album, though there is two tracks to go.

SAD SAD (feat. Mallory Merk) The only feature on the album, this track is a weird change of pace near the end, a smooth RnB tinged ballad, with vocals from Mallory Merk that give the song A Rex Orange County or Flower Boy vibe. This is another standout vocal performance from Ratboy. The clattering samples at the tracks end is especially weird, though it somehow works well.

KICKED OUTTA SCHOOL is our closing track, another track in a similar vein to SCUM ,is high energy and fun, and includes a great Beastie Boys -esque incorporation of a very familiar sample. The “thank you and goodnight” lines at the end are also very funny.

THE HIDDEN TRACK is a short song appears hidden at the end of the closing track. the distorted guitar is reminiscent again to Flower boy or Slow Hollows. This is weirdly pretty and subtle way to completely finish the album.

THE INTERLUDES

STEVIES FIRST WIFE - One of more cheesy interludes, this radio intro to LAIDBACK is kinda funny, but it’s still a little corny and annoying.

BIG FUCKA BURGERS - Definitely, the best and funniest interlude, BIG FUCKA BURGERS is a super crude and aggressive fast food advert. I especially love the ending. “OF COURSE I WANT THE FUCKING NINJA TOY I HOPE MY KID CHOKES ON IT!!!!”

BREAKING NEWZ - A Radio news bulletin from Stevie, this interlude only makes sense if you’ve seen the music video for the song GET OVER IT, which I recommend you check out!

TRUMPTOWERS - It’s obligatory Trump reference time! This instrumental does a good job of incorporating it. It’s to the point, VERY funny and brief.

SHADOWZ - A great woozy musical interlude, with an instrumental I’m a big fan of. 

SIRENZ - Another Radio ident, introducing the track SCUM. Nothing too interesting about this one, but I do like that random horn freakout.

POST SCUM - One of the funnier interludes, a dig at those inevitable disgusted christian mothers who think swear words and loud music will turn their children evil.

END OF THE ROAD - A hilarious closing interlude, where SCUM radio is shut down and Stevie is arrested. Stevie’s dialogue is its funniest here.

In Conclusion, SCUM exceeded my expectations in every way. It’s a fun, engaging, noisy, exciting and funny album full of charm and sincerity. Ratboy has proved himself to be not just a serious musician worth your time, but one the best new artists to hit the mainstream.

SCUM is one of my favourite albums of 2017. I give it an 8/10

FAVOURITE TRACKS - TURN AROUND M8, SAD SAD, MOVE, LAIDBACK, REVOLUTION, GET OVER IT

LEAST FAVOURITE TRACKS - SPORTSWEAR, 

#rat boy #scum #kendrick lamar #damn #Damon Albarn #blur #beastie boys #gorillaz #album review #album recommendation #ratboy

[artificialqueens]

I Deserve To Be a Winner (Sharon x Willam) - Rosie

A/N: Ages ago someone said they couldn’t imagine Willam and Sharon together but I could - this is how! This is set right after Sharon’s win, and is for the AQ Fic Challenge where I’ve included the words pretend, detox and hazy! Enjoy and tell me what you think here or at my blog @alaskadelneedles!

Summary: That one time Willam comforted Sharon in a time of need. 3.6k words.

Willam crossed her arms and frowned as she stood behind a thick veil of black curtains, intently watching the act on stage play out before her. Blue and purple lights danced across her knitted brow while the thumping music vibrated in her chest, wrapping around her heart and pumping in time with her pulse.

A bead of sweat escaped the confines of her wavy blonde wig and trickled down her temple. While her eyelids drooped with exhaustion and her feet stung from being molded into her Louboutin’s, her body still hummed with adrenaline. Even though she finished performing a few songs ago, bolts of energy continued to course through her veins. Most gigs were great, but it was nights like this that solidified Willam’s belief that she was made to be a drag queen.

She wished she could say the same for the entertainer currently crashing and burning on stage. Willam couldn’t help but grimace as she watched the queen struggle to keep in time with the music. Her dance moves were lackluster and her lips barely formed around the lyrics before the song was dashing away from her. If it were a queen deserving of such a blunder, Willam would have nodded along and enjoyed the spectacle. If it were a local queen struggling, Willam would have waltzed on stage to join her, never shying away from stealing the limelight.

However, fumbling around on stage was not an amateur, but America’s Next Drag Superstar. The spotlight was currently on Sharon Needles, who was making her reigning title look more questionable than ever.

Sharon was one of the few queens Willam tolerated during their time together on the show. They stayed out of each other’s way and accidentally created a tag team like dynamic when fighting with Phi Phi, one always in the ring with her while the other enjoyed some much needed peace away from O’Hara. Now that the race had ended and the pressure was off, Willam had found herself respecting Sharon more than she anticipated.

She ended up performing with Needles quite frequently since her recent win, the series first disqualified contestant booking the same amount of gigs, if not more, as the season’s underdog turned top dog. While it was Willam who had disappointed RuPaul, she could safely say that tonight she was not the one tarnishing the Drag Race name.

Between her uninterested dancing and dispassionate lip-syncing, Sharon barely interacted with the audience. When she did acknowledge their eagerly outstretched hands to slide the green bills from their grasp, they saw the light in her eyes they had fallen in love with had burnt out. Willam found herself mentally willing the crew to up the ante on the smoke machine, hoping the hazy cloud that hung in the air could intensify and obscure Sharon’s dismal routine.

Willam cringed, recoiling slightly as she caught herself feeling bad for Needles. An unfamiliar feeling of sympathy stirred awake in her mind, its eyes flicking open as it stretched its legs. She wasn’t a cold-hearted bitch who never felt concern for others, but Sharon Needles – who recently acquired $100,000 and a solid career – was not someone Willam expected to feel sorry for anytime soon.

As Sharon continued to stumble, both figuratively and literally, through her performance, Willam couldn’t ignore the niggling feeling in her stomach that the root of Sharon’s dire behaviour wasn’t just alcohol infused. Willam didn’t realise she had been holding her breath until she gratefully exhaled at the sight of Sharon’s set finishing. As the crowd applauded her, Sharon couldn’t even pretend to smile.

“I’m Sharon Needles, you’ve been amazing, thank you Dallas,” Sharon stated in a bored voice, reciting cliché phrases to the now slightly offended Denver crowd, who brushed it off as a usual Sharonism.

She dropped the microphone into the next performer’s hands and made a beeline for the side stage wings, not bothering to give the adoring audience one last wave or thank you. As she was enveloped into the darkness behind the black curtains, Willam’s hand instinctively shot out in an attempt to grab Sharon and give her the universal ‘you okay?’ look.

Instead, Sharon pushed passed her, slapping away Willam’s rare sign of compassion. Willam rolled her eyes, her sliver of kindness evaporating immediately. Sharon was just a diva, the fame already surging to her head as she acted as if she was too good for the people who had built her up.  

*

After taking her final bow, Willam bounced off the stage of the club and made her way to her dressing room, both exhausted and exhilarated. Tonight had been good. She had sold out of all of her merchandise, the gig had actually finished on time, and she knew she would be able to catch up with Detox and Rhea if she packed her stuff fast enough.

That was until she threw open her dressing room door and entered to find a distraught Sharon Needles weeping at her vanity. Sharon’s head was in her hands, her ghoulish grey curls falling around her and blocking her face from view.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Willam announced, bewildered at the unexpected sight. She was surprised at what she saw but her words were underpinned with her usual sense of amusement.

Sharon gasped and jerked her head up in surprise at the intrusion, clearly taken aback that someone had caught her in her current state of disarray. Her shock soon morphed into annoyance when she saw Willam standing in the doorway, whose eyes were alight with glee at Sharon’s moment of weakness.

“Fuck off,” Sharon shot back quietly, her voice embarrassingly wobbly, “leave me alone.”

Willam couldn’t help but scoff, “you’re in my dressing room, goddamnit.”

Sharon’s face dropped as she looked around at her surroundings. Her eyes widened as she spotted the array of Obsessive Compulsive Cosmetics products spread out on the vanity that she definitely didn’t own, and the costumes hanging up that were too colourful to belong in her closet.

Sharon’s face crumbled as she realised that, in her tearful post show state, she had found solace in the wrong room. Willam could only watch as the shoulders of the other queen shook, her breath hitching as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. Willam found herself wondering how her beat still looked perfect. She wasn’t sure what changes Sharon had made, but she had become ever so slightly fishier after winning. Willam was always quick to defend Sharon when Phi Phi and Kenya would snicker like schoolgirls in the werk room at her skills, saying she could paint pretty when she wanted to – and tonight she definitely did.

However, to her growing frustration, Sharon made no effort to leave. Willam wasn’t here for this, she wasn’t running a therapy session. She had places to go, people to meet up with. Comforting a weepy Sharon Needles was not a thought she cared to entertain.

But as Sharon carefully dabbed at her eyes with the tissue that had been scrunched in her hand this whole time, something timidly pulled at Willam’s dusty heartstrings. With pursed lips, Willam begrudgingly shut the dressing room door. She used her high heel cad foot to nosily drag a stool closer to Sharon and sat down opposite her.

“Don’t,” Sharon warned, not meeting her eyes. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Then why are you still here?” Willam asked, slightly aggressively. She had almost taken Sharon’s bait and kicked her out of the dressing room then and there.

Sharon didn’t answer, instead intently focusing on the tissue she fidgeted with in her hands as a sad hiccup escaped her lips.

“Okay, you need to calm down,” Willam started, clearly not well versed with fragile people, “like, right now.”

Sharon’s bottom lip quivered at her words, and Willam could tell she was trying to hold back another fresh wave of tears.

“I know tonight wasn’t your best performance, but they loved you anyway, so who the fuck cares, move on, you know?”

Sharon frowned, already lost at Willam’s attempt to comfort her.

“Tonight?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Willam clarified, now also confused. “You were pretty atrocious out there, but we all have those nights-“

“I’m not sad about that,” Sharon interrupted.

“Oh,” Willam said, as if the problem had been solved, but it hadn’t. “Then, why are crying?”

Sharon looked to the ceiling, as if looking for an answer, before exhaling loudly.

“I’m fine,” she said, delivering an irritatingly anti-climatic response.

“Argh, no you’re not!” Willam said, exasperated.

This was taking longer than she expected. Willam wasn’t prepared to sit down and methodically crack Sharon open like a nut and revel in her misery with her. She just wanted her stable and out the door, so that they could both carry on with their lives.

That’s what she told herself. However, actions speak louder than words, and it was Willam who hadn’t kicked Sharon out yet, who had shut the door and sat down with her. They sat in silence for a few moments, Sharon still fidgeting with her mascara stained tissue and Willam massaged her neck, trying to understand why she simultaneously wanted to hug Sharon and also smack the damn tissue out of her hand.

“For Christ’s sake,” Willam said, finally breaking the silence and reaching for the tissue box, “at least get another one.”

Sharon ripped a new tissue from the box.

“I’m just so stressed, and tired,” she said abruptly, “I’m so fucking tired.”

Willam opened her mouth to respond, to say that anyone would feel tired on their schedule, but Sharon interrupted her, unable to control the words pouring out of her.

“I just want everything to slow down, I never know where I am anymore, but everyone’s like ‘oh, Sharon, you have everything, why are you complaining? What do you mean you don’t enjoy going from one club to the other for months on end?’”

The words came rushing out of her, a clear indication they had been swirling in her mind for months, bubbling under the surface until she couldn’t suppress them anymore. Willam sat in silence, offering Sharon the one thing she had been deprived of since winning – someone who would listen and not judge.

“I’m just so frustrated,” Sharon said in a quiet, ragged voice, “because I took someone’s dream and I’m living it and I’m not even enjoying it, but I can’t say that. She’s the only one who’s allowed to be upset.”

Willam nodded, suddenly remembering how Sharon got on the race at the expense of her partner who was also a drag queen, Alabama or something.

Sharon’s breathing started to slow to a normal rate, and Willam could practically see the weight roll off her shoulders as the words left her lips, finally out there in the world and not riddled with guilt inside her mind.

“You can’t be mad for being a winner, baby,” Willam said, not letting the opportunity for a RuPaul impression slide.

A small smile pulled at Sharon’s lips, and Willam’s heart rose as she thought they were making progress. That was until Sharon’s face dropped again, her breath shaking as another thought flowed out of her.

“But maybe I’m not meant to be a winner, maybe I don’t deserve any of this… and that’s why I can’t handle it.”

Willam breathed in sharply, entirely not here for this pity party. She wasn’t entirely sure of her feelings for Sharon, of why this situation was happening. But she was sure about one thing – Sharon Needles killed season four and every season before it.

“No, cut that shit out!” Willam started, surprising both of them with her outburst. “It’s a game, you score, you put the numbers on the board and then you win. That’s what you did! You won four challenges, the most in history! You deserve to be a winner and you deserve to be happy. So stop wallowing in your own self pity and get a fucking grip.”

Willam finally breathed in, a little taken aback at the lecture she had just sprung on Sharon. She wasn’t usually the one to hand out pep talks. Alternatively, beating someone down was typically her area of expertise, so much so she was even thinking of starting a web series doing it.

But here she was, aggressively telling Sharon she deserved everything she had so rightly achieved.

Sharon just stared at her, stunned by her uplifting tirade. She blinked, her wet lashes fluttering against her damp cheeks. This was not the obnoxious Willam she had come to love and hate during the race.

“But, but-” she started again, attempting to argue with Willam.

But Willam couldn’t bother with Sharon’s self-loathing anymore. This night was weird enough and had not gone how she expected it to at all. So, in usual Willam fashion, she threw caution to the wind and ran with her gut instinct, ignoring the damage she might cause in the process.

She leant across and closed the spaced between them, capturing Sharon’s lips in a kiss and silencing the other queen.

It was tentative at first, Sharon shocked at Willam’s move and Willam’s mind simultaneously a complete cluster fuck of thoughts yet totally blank.

Sharon closed her eyes, the warmth of Willam’s lips on hers immediately calming her.

Reality struck Willam and she hastily pulled away, realising too late that she had most likely overstepped a boundary or four.

Their heads were still close together. Willam felt Sharon’s breath dance across her skin. Sharon’s eyes darted from Willam’s eyes to her parted lips and back again.

Willam’s mind was racing. What was she doing? Willam was in an open relationship, but Sharon? Sharon didn’t want her, she had Alabama. Sharon didn’t say she could kiss her. And when had Willam decided she wanted to kiss Sharon?

Willam’s thoughts were cut off as Sharon leant forward, their lips meeting once again and silencing Willam’s inner turmoil.

All previous notions of hesitation vanished as their lips moved together. Willam parted her mouth to deepen the kiss, her tongue brushing against the other queen’s as Sharon matched her movements.

Sharon’s hands immediately reached for Willam’s neck and shoulder, wanting to pull her closer. Willam shifted forward on her stool, her hands instantly reaching for Sharon’s hips and sliding her towards her.

Sharon took it further, pulling away from their kiss ever so slightly to move and sit on Willam’s lap, her legs straddling the other queen.

Willam hitched Sharon’s tight mini dress up the short distance it needed so it slid up over her curves before her hands moved to cup her ass and hold her closer.

Sharon grinded down into Willam crotch, her hips grating against the other blonde as desire pumped through her.

Willam couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips as Sharon rolled her hips, her breath hitching as their kiss became more passionate.  

Sharon tilted her head back and Willam planted a trail of kisses down her neck before sucking at a particular spot, marking Sharon’s fair skin.

“Yes, yes,” Sharon moaned softly, her eyes fluttering shut as she continued to roll her hips against Willam’s.

Sharon let the moment overpower her, the detrimental consequences of her actions the last thing on her mind. She gasped in pleasure as Willam squeezed her ass, the firmness of her touch contrasting against the softness of her lips. Sharon continued to grind her hips, her fingers tangling in Willam’s soft, silky wig.

Willam’s hands slid down and grabbed the other blonde’s thighs. She abruptly stood up and hoisted Sharon’s slender body up onto the vanity behind them. She caused a ruckus as she sat Sharon down, products crashing and knocking off the vanity as they were pushed aside. Neither of them noticed as they continued to grab at one and other.

Sharon spread her legs and wrapped them around Willam’s waist, her chest heaving as she arched her back against the cool surface of the mirror. As Willam captured Sharon’s bottom lip with her teeth, the sharpness dragging slightly on Sharon’s pouty lips, she wondered why she bothered fucking a Drag Race producer when this was in the hotel room next to her.

She snaked a hand down between their bodies and rubbed Sharon’s pulsing groin, earning a desperate moan from the other queen.

“I need you,” Sharon breathed softly into Willam’s ear.

Sharon’s dress was bunched around her waist from when Willam pulled it up earlier, so Willam reached for her black underwear and pulled it down. Sharon’s minimal padding fell to the ground as she did so, and since she was loosely tucked and didn’t wear tights, her erection sprung free as well.

Sharon palmed herself, biting her lip while she slowly and seductively batted her lashes at Willam.

Willam admired her for a moment. She studied how gorgeous Sharon’s dark lips looked against her unnaturally blonde hair, how the bright lights of the vanity that surrounded her somehow softened her features.

Without tearing her eyes from Sharon’s, Willam sat on the seat of the vanity before joining Sharon and wrapping a hand around her throbbing cock.

She teased her, pumping her slowly as her parted lips inched closer and closer to Sharon, who couldn’t help but gently thrust herself towards Willam, desperate for her touch.

Willam started slow, her tongue gradually swiping at Sharon’s slit as the other queen bucked her hips.

“Ah,” Sharon moaned, a strangled cry escaping her as Willam took her time.

Willam wrapped her plump lips around Sharon’s tip, gently sucking at her head. Sharon tangled her fingers in Willam’s hair, wanting to pull her closer as her wet tongue and warm mouth sent pleasure coursing through her body.

Willam finally sank down completely, enveloping Sharon in a hot mix of tongue, cheek hallowing and teeth grazing. Sharon felt herself hit the back of Willam’s throat as Willam switched between vigorously and languidly bobbing herself on Sharon’s cock.

Willam wrapped a hand around Sharon’s base, squeezing her slightly as she pumped her cock between her lips, looking up at Sharon through her thick lashes.

“Ah, fuck, fuck,” Sharon babbled as Willam moaned around her, vibrations echoing through her sensitive body.

Sharon felt her eyes grow watery again, but this time out of sheer pleasure. She couldn’t remember the last time she had let herself unravel completely with someone like this, with no trace of guilt or resentment in the mix. She had knocked back so many advancements while on tour, staying loyal to somebody she constantly felt apologetic too. Somebody whom she always pleasured as a way of saying sorry for stealing their one dream. Having the sole purpose of the moment be on making her feel good was overwhelming.

Willam abruptly pulled off completely, Sharon protesting at the loss.

“Say you deserve it,” Willam gasped, her voice croaky but firm.

“What?” Sharon managed to say, her mind clouded with lust.

“Say you deserve to be a winner,” Willam said again, “or else I stop.”

Sharon threw her head back against the mirror and scoffed. Willam’s idea was both stupid and genius. She clenched her jaw, the words unable to come out. But her hips involuntarily thrusted towards Willam, her cock painfully hard and slick with the other queen’s spit.

“I deserve to be a winner,” Sharon said slowly, her voice trembling slightly as her body buzzed with desire, desperate for Willam’s mouth to again be wrapped around her.

“Good, keep saying it,” Willam said satisfied, returning to her place between Sharon’s thighs.

Sharon couldn’t help the smile on her lips as Willam bobbed up and down, pulling off and edging Sharon when she didn’t comply.

“I deserve to be a winner, I deserve to be- ah fuck yes, a winner, I deserve, ah Willam yes,” Sharon chanted. Her back arched against the mirror and her thighs shook as her orgasm gained momentum, coiling itself tightly in her stomach.

Willam moaned around her before grabbing her balls and squeezing them slightly, massaging them as her mouth worked Sharon’s throbbing cock.

“I… deserve…I-” Sharon was cut off as she was finally pushed to the edge, her orgasm overwhelming her.

Her mouth was a silent scream as stripes of hot cum shot from her pulsing cock and down Willam’s throat. With closed eyes and shaking legs, she held onto Willam had she rode at her orgasm.  

She gasped for breath as she gradually came down from her high, Willam still gently sucking on her now over sensitive cock. She dragged her teeth slightly as she pulled off, Sharon’s legs shuddering in the process. Willam continued to pump Sharon as she admired her flushed cheeks and lust blown pupils.  

They sat in silence for a moment, just like they did before, except now they were in a very different situation. Willam’s mind was just starting to clear when Sharon shifted forward and enveloped her in a hug, her arms wrapping around her and holding her close. Willam returned the hug, her hands rubbing Sharon’s back as they nothing, but also so much.

Sharon didn’t need to say it, but she said it anyway.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice muffled as she spoke into Willam’s hair.

“It’s okay,” Willam said genuinely, before turning back into the Willam Sharon knew. “Now help me clean this shit up.”

#fic challenge #rosie #sharon needles #willam belli #hurt #comfort #smut #tw swearing #rpdr fanfiction #shillam #rare pair #canon compliant