#clarissa needs therapy please help her

[shortcakezzzz]

i feel so overwhelmed from just thinking of s5, imagine watching it... 🪦

#byler #clarissa needs therapy please help her

[felix-sullivan]

a(n incomplete) list of our plots, compiled in order of what storylines we’ll prioritise & focus on. every storyline may involve as many different characters, pairings & conversations as we please, but the context & content of the conversations should ideally directly relate to the storyline in question for the duration of the plot event.

––– the order is as follows

1. lucas adoption ––

current status ––– following a fight at school, geraldine kane was called into the principle’s office to talk about her son’s involvement in the altercation. joyce foster, who has long since developed motherly feelings for lucas, has now come to the definite decision to adopt him –  to give him a steady family even after he turns 18 and because she is convinced geraldine & john kane should have no legal authority over lucas. while initially met with some resistance from her husband, george foster, the two have since agreed to bring the idea up to the family and eventually start the adoption process. of course, they didn’t want to blindside lucas, so joyce has told him about their plan just a few days ago – something lucas now has to process by himself. and with other people. the fact that his uncle weston taylor is now out of prison might change everything, anyway.

possible conversations ––– lucas & maeve. lucas & benji. lucas & wes. benji & tammi. tammi & cari. wes & piper. cari & roman. joyce & lucas. george & benji. &more.

2. tom & jill ––

current status ––– now that almost all their children are all grown up and out of the house, jill & tom sullivan have made a decision. they know they don’t want any more children, so tom agreed to a vasectomy as an alternative to hormonal or barrier contraception. only a few months after the procedure, jill noticed changes that she first attributed to menopause – a thought that scared her. though the reality of the situation ended up being the even scarier thought. she’s pregnant. 24 years after her first and 16 years after her last pregnancy. before she had even worked up the courage to tell tom, he had already found the positive pregnancy test. and there was only one possible explanation in his mind – jill cheated on him. she denies it, he’s too hurt and proud to listen. so their relationship has been on ice and the athmosphere in the whole sullivan house has been rather frigid too for a few weeks now. he doesn’t sleep in their bed anymore, drowns himself in work & jill thinks she just needs to give him time. but time doesn’t heal all wounds, especially not when he pretty much ignores her existence alltogether.

possible conversations –––  jill & clarissa. tom & john. tom & danny. jill & roman. tom & felix. roman & felix. roman & cari. felix & noah. felix & chris. &more.

3. vicky & cory ––

current status ––– vicky owens most likely thought that the day she’d see cory langley again would never come – which would have probably been for the best for everyone. but she did see him again, one afternoon, in a walmart. 17 years had passed since they last saw each other. and even though they parted in a fight that was never resolved for either of them back then, they agreed to catch up over a cup of coffee at vicky’s house. vicky’s son, noah owens aged 16, came home while cory was still over and as he was beginning to do the maths, he realised that this kid was most likely his. he left that afternoon utterly dumfounded, trying to put the pieces together. only once he was back home did it start to really sink in – he most likely has a kid. cory went back to vicky’s house a few days later, shaking with anger, and loudly demanded answers. only after he’d already started screaming at her did vicky confirm to him in a small voice, ‘he’s yours.’ noah and his boyfriend, liam caldwell-moore, stepped in once they heard the raised voices, telling the rather threatening seeming man to get away from a crying vicky without having any context of the conversation. cory now knows this life changing secret that vicky has done her all to keep sealed tight over the past 17 years, while noah remains clueless

possible conversations ––– noah & liam. cory & noah. noah & felix. vicky & cory. &more.

4. lance & the hughes ––

current status ––– lance hughes’ situation is continuing to quietly deteriorate. after his overdose nearly a year ago he was clean for a few months, but fell into a major lethargic depressive episode. when the shock of it wore off a little and marisol & john hughes loosened their reigns on him, it didn’t take long for him to find himself going back to the drugs. he’s become a good liar, a better liar, knows exactly what people like his parents and bella bennett want to hear from him. he tells her he still smokes from time to time but that’s it – nothing else.

possible conversations ––– marisol & john. marisol & jill. marisol & lance. john & tom. john & piper. lance & bella. lance & charlie. piper & wes. bella & maddie. &more.

5. gabe & ana ––

current status ––– gabe thompson and ana caldwell-moore had been sleeping together again for months behind avery caldwell-moore’s back before it started to blow up in their faces. carelessly, they were caught in the act by ana’s son, liam caldwell-moore, a couple weeks ago. he has since been refusing to talk to ana or gabe, internally battling with himself about whether he should be the one to tell his mother, avery caldwell-moore, who knows something is up but is being kept in the dark about it. ana, feeling ashamed, has also been avoiding gabe while trying to fix things at home, though he wasn’t really having any of it – he confessed to her that he wants to give the two of them a try now and asked ana to break up with her wife. ana wasn’t ready to sacrifice her family – though things might look different once she finds out that she’s currently pregnant.

possible conversations ––– gabe & ana. ana & avery. ana & liam. liam & noah. liam & hazel. liam & zara. &more.

6. maddie & dom ––

current status ––– now that their little nova has finally come into the world, things have been quite different for maddie carmichael & dom parrish. they’re now full time parents living with dom’s parents, clay & vivian parrish. maddie barely even goes into the city to see her own dad, jesse carmichael, these days. clay and vivian help out where they can, something vivian especially is happy to do because it means she can keep an eye on her son too – she’s not too thrilled about his plans to drop out of school or even them getting married. those are things that are up for discussion between maddie and dom, though they don’t always see eye to eye on those topics either. however, vivian brought up the idea of buying a place for the young parents to raise their family to clay not too long ago.

possible conversations ––– vivian & clay. vivian & dom. clay & jesse. maddie & bella. maddie & vicky. dom & nick. maddie & hazel. &more.

7. jordyn & naoki ––

current status ––– n/a.

possible conversations ––– jordyn & caleb. jordyn & khloe. naoki & tristan. tristan & matthew. eric & khloe. ted & eric. ted & tristan. &more.

8. the bennett family ––

current status ––– danny bennett came back a changed man – and his family is starting to have to pay the price for it. his helplessness is making him rude and ungrateful to his wife, clarissa bennett, who has been trying her hardest to be understanding but is slowly starting to lose her patience too. especially because there doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to danny’s mood swings anymore. he’ll lash out over the smallest things, refuses therapy, drowns himself in mindless activities and even goes as far as being stricter with his children, bella & nancy bennett, than usual – anything that will give him some semblence of control.

possible conversation ––– danny & clarissa. danny & bella. danny & nancy. clarissa & jill. danny & tom. bella & maddie. bella & lance. nancy & dani. &more.

9. lennon & sasha & levi ––

current status ––– n/a

possible conversations ––– sasha & levi. lennon & sasha. toni & sasha. mona & levi. mona & lennon. sebastian & levi.

#okay... this got longer than intended #what happened here #ANYWAY lmao #thought it would be nice to have it in one place #please tell me if theres anything to be added or corrected about any of the summaries

[ambitionsource]

Who in the a class is in some kind of therapy?

what a question LMAO. but honestly, a very fair one indeed. while discussing this, es and i ended up basically dividing it into three groups (if someone isn’t mentioned, it just means none apply)

Is In Therapy Currently

Isadora || as we know from the canon of S3, isa is currently in therapy to work through the grief of valerie dying as well as like... the built up abandonment issues, anxiety, and struggles she has articulating or processing emotions lmao. it also helps her learn better methods to work with her autism

Farkle || i mean... we all watched S1 & 2. we know why he’s there LMAO and by god does he need it. it’s good that he’s improving though!!

Chai || she officially started therapy after the events of S1 while she was abroad because evidently her parents divorce really fucked with her emotional state and coping mechanisms -- as well as having sort of emotionally distant parents and having to navigate the world on her own. basically, money =/= nurturing. but yeah i think she realized what she did with tormenting her classmates wasn’t Healthy perhaps and so she sought out the resources to fix it on her own. her parents certainly weren’t going to be much help

Clarissa || clarissa has been in and out of therapy here and there since she was little, mainly for managing OCD. usually she’s fine and her appointments are infrequent (monthly at this current rate), but she tends to go back to her therapist when circumstances get very stressful, like the events of S2 (she mentions going back to therapy in a scene with charlie and haley in 210)

Not In Therapy Currently, but Has Before

Riley || though not by choice, riley went to therapy for a stretch of time in the aftermath of her bullying experience freshman year. by the start of S1, though, she’s on the tail-end of it after a whole summer full of it. she also had stints in family therapy when she was little when cory and topie were having their first bouts of marriage problems, but she doesn’t remember all that obviously. she’s thought about going back for herself because of all the divorce strain, but ultimately opted against it bc she didn’t want to go through cory or topanga. she mainly sticks to talking to eric if things get too overwhelming and using the coping mechanisms she already has

Darby || miss darbs spent some time in therapy in late elementary school due to having issues socializing with her peers. i think she’s always been a bit awkward and desperate to please, so that can get messy with kids cause kids are mean. she was also definitely bullied at that age for being really tall and so i think her parents put her therapy out of genuine concern just with the hopes that like, she’d be able to develop some coping mechanisms and have a safe space to get advice if they didn’t have the answers. and in some ways it helped, other ways no -- her friendships aren’t the healthiest still (as she’s the doormat), but i think she holds her own BETTER with the plastics having gone to therapy than if she never developed those emotional tools at all

Has Not / Is Not but Really Fucking Should Be in Therapy

LUCAS || this is like the most obvious blinking lights sirens wailing example ever. he is a walking textbook for endorsing therapy. between the domestic abuse, mommy and daddy issues, self-esteem in the subbasement, lack of life purpose, inability to read others well emotionally, inability to process his own emotions, the physical aversion due to his trauma, his kleptomania, his risk-taking behavior, his habit of lying, the fact that he has canonically walked off for days at a time with no warning, explanation, or safety net, that he sleeps in a fucking technician’s booth, he used to free-climb buildings SOMETIMES IN THE RAIN, no sense of self-preservation, intrusive thoughts, inability to express appreciation or affection in a normal non-stressful way...... this man is a therapist’s dream and nightmare. they could spend YEARS unpacking him. but will he ever go to therapy? no. because he a) doesn’t think he needs it, b) can’t ask for help ever, and c) could never afford it. and at this point, d) if his dad heard he was seeking help like that he would shut it down instantly. anyway, he’s the biggest case here. underline him in red

Charlie || charlie is a great example of someone who is like coping... sort of... not really... it Looks like they’re coping but they aren’t really and they really need help. like yes, charlie has stability in certain areas of his life that others don’t, and he’s extremely self-aware of his privileges, but i think that’s part of the problem. he’s convinced himself he doesn’t need or shouldn’t get external help because there are people who have it so much worse than him and he doesn’t... he doesn’t really need it, does he? he’s fine. he’ll be fine. and even if he did think about getting “help,” i think his first instinct -- and advice from others -- would be to go to his church leadership, which is not a suggestion made with ill will but just isn’t helpful considering half of his trauma is tied to his relationship with god and the church and faith. he needs a more objective space to unpack all of that, and obviously church itself is not the answer. i think that charlie will be able to work through a lot of his initial issues on his own with time and patience with himself (something we’re in the thick of right now -- we’re just barely in the acceptance phase), but he should really go to therapy in the future just to like... work through all of the long-term trauma he endured from his upbringing and bridgette’s exile and the dueling psychology of church vs sexuality. like... that’s gonna take some time to unravel and he needs to be in the right place to pursue that on his own. will he, i dont know, but i think when he does a certain heaviness he’s been carrying his entire life will finally like... lift. and he’ll be able to breathe better

Asher || so asher is a bit of a clusterfuck LMAO like he’s diagnosed officially with generalized anxiety disorder but he never saw a specialist, his mom diagnosed him since she’s a psychologist. the complexity here is that because of that... well, they say you should never let family be your personal doctors and i think that’s true for mental health professionals too. like emily basically gave asher the generic coping rundown when he was really young, and then he went on to develop his own coping mechanisms with, at least, a very fundamental understanding of what’s wrong with him. but he kind of developed his own complex about it all too, bc i think emily took pride in him being able to figure it all out and be so capable with his own mental health without ever going to therapy and he kind of internalized that, as well as having internalized a lot his mom’s perspectives and opinions as a mental health professional in a way that its like... well my MOM said that, so i feel kind of some type of way about it. so its all really complicated and twisted in his head and he just doesnt bother to unpack it (something, ironically, therapy would probably help lol). the thing about asher is that for all intents and purposes, he does cope well and he is really in tune with his own mental state. it’s just that he could seriously benefit from having an objective party help him untangle some of his neuroses i think and it would take some of the constant stress off his shoulders, but he’s honestly too stuck in his ways at this point to go. that being said, he’s a vocal advocate for therapy and its benefits -- just not for himself

Nigel || as discussed a bit in the ask i answered about him, i just think nigel carries way too much pressure on himself and he could benefit from someone helping him work through things instead of carrying all his stress on his own -- even if its less complex than some others. he’s like same range as clarissa.

Maya || maya has no issue with self-esteem, but i think she could still benefit from someone helping her actually unpack her issues over her dad and why she is the way she is. a therapist who specializes in narcissism would be a good fit for her -- not because she is one, but she does have... certain quirks where i think having that specialization can help unravel her motivations and actions a little more easily

Missy || she’s just a fucking mess. she shouldn’t be redeemed but i think therapy could really do her a favor and maybe make her less terrible and psychopathic towards people who aren’t like her. maybe

-- Maggie & Es

#a class #answered #Anonymous #ask and you shall receive

[the-writerly-night-owl]

What Else is There to Celebrate?

Open Heart/ Ethan x MC

Summary: Ethan and Clarissa are so late but a celebration was in order.

Author’s Note: well I was going to a Bachelorette Party story for News Years, but I’ve been binge watching Grey’s Anatomy all day so I’m holding off on that book. For day 30 (I switched days), Celebration for the 41 Days of Cheer. I’m just going to quit pretending that I know what I’m doing and quit mentioning what’s next lol.

There was a code blue in room 211 where the man started to seize. Clarissa had moved on and sprung into action helping him as soon as possible. Across the hospital Ethan was helping a patient through a diabetic shock. The clock ticking closer and closer to clock out time.

“Mr. Panabaker you’re in good hands,” she said as he was being wheeled away to the OR. Bryce and Dr. Emery to perform a temporal lobectomy once he was stabilized. Bryce had winked at her before she had to return to another patient.

Oh no, she thought, as this woman was having a heart attack. His body spazzing as she called another code blue as she tried to get him under control.  More nurses and doctors came into the room and started to help her.

“We need to schedule for an OR,” she said pointing for someone to go. The intern nodded at her before running away to get it in.

She took a deep breath and started to help as best as she could. Her eyes focused on Mrs. Shephard as they got it under control. Perfect as she looked at the clock again. Almost everyone would be off and there at the park except the one person that needed to be there.

Clarissa bit down on her thumb nail and check on her remaining patients. Including a child that had come in for an appendectomy that was healing perfectly.

“Doctor Sinclaire,” said the nurse. “Before you leave, I wanted to give this to you.”

She had produced a small present with a giant bright red bow on the top. “It’s a little uncommon but happy new year,” she said as Clarissa went to clock out. Part of her wished to go home and sleep since she’s been on her feet since four a.m. That didn’t matter as she had something to celebrate.

Finally clocking out and hugging the nurse for the present she headed out to the cat walk looking for Ethan in the crowd. He didn’t seem to be around anywhere as she just frowned. Until she saw him with Naveen down at the bottom of the steps nearest to the door as she raced down.

Getting closer she can hear them as soon as she was within ear shot.

“Come on Ethan, you know you want to,” said Naveen.

“No, we’re not going to accept that,” he said shaking his head. “Naveen we have something special planned.”

“Before you leave Doctor Sinclaire we have the paperwork about the therapy dog program that you helped set up,” said another nurse.

She took the paperwork and put into an organized accordion file before heading out with Ethan and Naveen. They only had one day off, and they were going to make it count. After all it was New Year’s Eve and they had plans.

“Come on you’ve got to come,” said Clarissa. “It won’t be a New Year’s Eve party without you.”

“If I come to your party there has a to be a time where we can sneak off together,” said Ethan staring at her for a long minute.

She had just nodded, Clarissa would have to make time for each of her friends. Why wouldn’t she spend time with her boyfriend? Even if it was a little awkward for some people. Together they had left the hospital and to the restaurant where they were hosting a party. It was the local Chinese buffet place since it was open late on new years eve.

Sighing she wondered what people would think when she showed up with the chief. With Ethan it was no surprise but with Naveen it might get people talking.

“Thank you for inviting me,” he said. “I don’t drink anymore but I will gladly toast with a Pepsi tonight.”

With that they had arrived as she started to mingle. Jackie still focusing on deciding a specialty that she really wanted to work on. She wasn’t opposing to Bryce suggesting that she should get into surgery but still skeptical.

Sienna was with Danny as her date and they weren’t separating anytime soon. Elijah had showed some of the interns one of his juggling tricks.

Finally, Naveen and Ethan talking with Aurora as she was eagerly explaining her last interesting case. Rafael talking with Zaid and Ines about something or another. Basically, everyone had gotten together well and making time for each other. It was turning out to be a good party as she watched from the sideline after meeting with everyone for a small time.

Although it was hard to ignore the long looks Ethan was casting at her from time to time. He had a Pepsi of his own in his hands. She was pretty pleased with herself to see that he had cut back from all the alcohol. Then again, he was only drinking that much because of the condition Naveen was in at the time.

“Hey,” said Ethan as he had pulled her away from the crowd. “Can we…”

“Hold on the clock,” she said pointing to a count down that the owners had put up next to their Christmas tree still standing. Clarissa put down a plate that still had some sweet and sour chicken on a nearby table.

She had taken his hand and squeezed it. Her other hand had done the same with Sienna. As they watched the clock count down.

“Take something,” said Elijah rolling past them as she took out a small box of confetti. Sienna with a blow horn. Ethan sighing and taking a hat reluctantly. Naveen had various items to throw when it came down to the time.

“Three….”

“Two…”

“One…”

“Happy New Year shouted everyone in the restaurant.”

Clarissa only smiling she was happy to have all her friends around her. A few of the nurses that had arrived late hugging each other. A hand had pulled her away from the crowd and her own Sierra Mist splashed up a little before laughing. Turning to look she could only see Ethan.

Following him out she smiled at him setting the drink down before heading out into the streets. Snow piling up as a truck drove by.  They finally did sneak away as they started to walk a little down the street. Since she didn’t have a coat on neither could go very far but her sweater and vest combo keeping her somewhat warm.

“This isn’t exactly where I was planning to be on New Years Day this late,” said Ethan grumbling some.

“Hey, you were having fun,” she said as he just made a face before smiling. She had poked his chest playfully as if she had proved it herself. “I saw you talking to Zaid and Ines and Aurora. See you have some other people around besides Naveen.”

He had chucked and put his hands in his pockets, his ears and cheeks pink from the cold. Now she had really wished that she had her jacket.

“Okay I was having fun. Although I pulled you away for a reason.”

“You mean besides to get a special new year’s kiss? I mean I didn’t get that yet.” She stuck out her lower lip and batted her big green eyes up at him. Ethan had shaken his head and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Pouting a little she just brushed up against him. “What’s the reason then?”

He had grown quiet as she turned to look at him. They had walked almost block to see the holiday lights on the Boston Common. It was still quite pretty as she pulled her puffed vest to make her slightly warmer. They could see the lights bright in the night and a light sprinkling of snow made everything magical.

“Okay it’s too cold and I can’t go much farther. I was hoping to do this at our apartment.”

Clarissa just smiled, remembering last Christmas he had given her a key and she had moved in with him. It was very romantic.

“What are you…”

He had pulled out a box from his own pocket as she just slapped a hand to her mouth hiding her gasp. Her emerald eyes grew wide as she knew what that was. Ethan had relaxed and eye’s softened as he opened the small box.

“The grounds kind of cold but, Clarissa Anne Sinclaire will you marry me?” he asked his voice sounding hopeful as he seemed to hold his breath.

Even though she wasn’t crying she could only shake her head and accepted the box putting the ring on herself. He looked a little surprised at that before throwing herself into his arms.

“I’m so glad that you didn’t make this grand, this is perfect as it is.”

With that she kissed him long, hard, and as passionate as she could. The kiss really warming them up in the freezing temperatures. As cute as it would have been to do it in front of their tree and maybe get Jenner involved, this was perfect as it was. The box holding the ring had fallen to the ground completely dismissed.

He had kissed her back with just as much passion as he had wrapped his arms around her waist. Her arms around his neck as they kept each other warm. Ethan twirled her around some before resting his forehead against hers.

“I still think in front of the tree would have been better. Plus, I could have gotten down on one knee…”

“I wouldn’t’ have wanted you to anyway. This is perfect this just looks magical.”

They had the lights in the back with a Christmas song playing in the distance. A bright crescent moon among the stars. A light dusty of snow falling from somewhere. It was magical and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

Laughing Ethan just took her hand as she admired her ring. It was simple and that’s exactly what she would have wanted.

“Now let’s head before we develop hypothermia,” said Ethan kissing her cheek once more. “Happy New Year Clarissa.”

“Happy New Year Ethan.”

With that they were off back to the restaurant. After all they had another reason to celebrate.

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#dr. ethan #dr ramsey #dr. ramsey #dr banerji #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #dr ethan ramsey #doctor ramsey #oh MC #mc oh #mc: clarissa sinclaire #oh #oh choices #choices oh #choices: oh #open heart #choices: open heart #choices open heart #choices #choices fanfiction #playchoices fanfiction #oh fandom #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices: stories you play #41daysofcheer #41daysofcheerchallenge

[officialleehadan]

About-Face

“Come with me, and all you dream will be yours.”

It was tempting. Clarissa couldn’t deny that, even as her husband pouted, only half-paying attention, and her children protested.

A refusal was on the tip of her tongue, and she tried to force it out around the hard knot of helpless, impotent rage in her throat.

Brad glared when she didn’t say anything, torn between her life, her steady, boring, awful life of cleaning up after her despondent husband and their kids. Oh, she loved her children. They were the light of her life despite their frequent defiance that was only made worse by Brad’s total disinterest in them.

“I-“ she hesitated, trying again to refuse. “I-“

“Let’s go already,” Becca said impatiently, grumpy as only an overtired teenager could. “Dude, she’s married. Get lost.”

“Yeah, leave our mom alone!” Jack said, angrier than his sister, and young enough to understand only a little of their life. “Send us home!”

Brad remained silent and only checked his watch, everything about him screaming that he couldn’t care less.

She had only been kidnapped by an Elder Sorcerer who may or may not be a vampire, but sure, no big, right?

He probably hadn’t even noticed she was gone until dinner failed to show up on time. Two years of couples therapy, and they hadn’t made one damn bit of progress because he just didn’t want to.

She might be determined to make her marriage work, but it took two, and she couldn’t make him care.

He loved her, once. Back before they got married and she got pregnant. He brought her flowers and told her she was beautiful.

She couldn’t remember the last time he said the words. Hell, she couldn’t remember the last time they even kissed, outside of their once-a-month routine of hurried, unsatisfactory sex.

“Clarisse,” Erik said softly, and held out a hand to her. His black-suited form was silhouetted against the fireplace that dominated one wall, and there was the tiniest spark of hope in his eyes when he realized she was thinking about it. “Stay with me, please.”

“You kidnapped me,” she pointed out, because it was easier than a no, and she was still angry about that. “I have a family. I didn’t promise to stay.”

“I will happily host your children whenever you desire.” he told her quickly, not yet smiling, but smart enough to understand that she needed more than pretty words. For all his (probavbly) evil ways, he was a good listener. “As for the kidnapping,  I frightened you and acted without your permission. I am sorry.”

Clarisse didn’t want to be swayed by the easy, honest apology. It wasn’t the first he gave her. As soon as he discovered that she was more frightened than excited by her sudden appearance in his castle-home, he began apologizing.

He even offered to send her back, but, in a fit of selfishness, she refused, curious despite herself.

She was a stay-at-home mom with two children and a disinterested husband. The lure of a week of peace and fun, and maybe a little of the romance she desperately craved, was a siren song she couldn’t say no to.

And then Erik turned out to be someone she liked. Someone who brought her wine and suggested books and didn’t bother her as she dozed beside his pool and enjoyed the quiet.

He was also, probably, a supervillain, but that wasn’t actually as bad as she expected. He let her see his lab and everything. Sure, it was creepy, but he didn’t really seem like the world-destroying type.

“Mom!” Becca said louder, now tapping her foot like the teenager she was. Jack looked up at their father, confused as to why Brad still hadn’t said anything.

Clarisse felt the long-familiar feeling in her stomach. The one that appeared whenever her husband walked into the room, and only grew worse with his silence.

It wasn’t dread. Brad had never given her a reason to fear him. He never lifted a hand, or raised his voice to her. But dammit, was it so terrible to want a husband who wanted to see her? Who smiled with her, and talked with her, and treated her like a person, not a cleaning robot?

“I-“ she said again, feeling hasty and impulsive and torn.  “I have a husband.”

“Yes,” Erik said, met Brad’s eyes over her shoulder. “One who still hasn’t said a word to fight for you, or even to reassure you after discovering that you were kidnapped.”

“Now that’s not fair,” Brad finally woke from his stupor enough to speak. Clarisse was mildly surprised, and then angry at herself for thinking it. “I’m a good dad, buddy!”

“Perhaps,” Erik allowed with a snide little smile that suggested that Brad was the lowest of the low. “Perhaps you are, although I doubt it. But your wife has been gone for a week, and you have not even tried to tell her that you love her.”

“Erik,” Clarisse pointed out sharply, and had the pleasure of seeing both men wince. “That was uncalled-for.”

There was a choice to make, and it was hers. Neither of them were allowed to take that choice out of her hands.

A week in Erik’s imposing fortress had taught her a lot about pushing her own boundaries, but also about the dreams and hopes she gave up when she married a used-car salesman, had kids, and gave up everything.

One way or another, things were changing after today.

Protests came from the kids again and she turned on them, entirely fed up with their whining. For once in her life, they were going to listen, and actually mind her without throwing tantrums about it.

“Stop,” she said flatly, in a tone she had never used before and was long overdue. A snap of her fingers summoned Erik’s ever-present butler Val, who Clarisse liked very much. “Val, take them to my rooms please. Kids, we will discuss this later.”

“But-“ Becca yelped as Val, who looked somewhat dead but was the very soul of efficiency, herded them towards the door. “Mom!”

Brad watched, stunned back into silence by her short commands. That was just as well. She had more to say, and it was his turn.

“Brad,” she said, trembling inside at her own boldness. “We’ve tried tomake this work. Two years of counseling and nothing is better. I want a divorce.”

“What-“ he stared at her and Clarisse felt a little thrill. Finally, for the first time in years, she had all of his attention. “Clarisse, you can’t be serious. You’re leaving me? For him? He looks like a scarecrow!”

Erik blinked, but Clarisse cut him off before he could even open his mouth.

“I am leaving you,” she said, getting angrier with every word. As if she couldn’t make up her own mind when she had enough. “Because nothing is better. I am so unhappy, day in and day out, and you don’t care. You don’t even speak to me most days.”

Val reappeared just at the right moment and Clarisse caught his eye again.

“Please escort him-“ she wasn’t sure where. Fortunately the butler was a professional.

“We have a number of guest rooms near your suit, Mrs. Connor. Shall I escort Mr. Connor to one of those until travel plans are finalized?’

Everyone should have a butler. They were amazing. “Yes please. Erik, do you-“

Erik shook his head and lifted a hand. “Of course. Val, give him the Blue Room and install the children in the suite beside it. They will be more comfortable in their own rooms, I am sure. Give them access to the pool and games rooms as well.”

“Sir. Mr. Connor, this way.”

Clarisse stared Brad down for a moment, and rounded on Erik before her courage could fail. He also looked stunned, but also impressed. When he met her eyes, he smiled slowly and knelt before her.

“What do you wish of me?” he asked softly as if her husband wasn’t sputtering behind her. “All of my resources are at your disposal.”

“Thank you,” she said, and pulled him to his feet. He curled his cool fingers around hers. “I can’t do a relationship. Not yet. Maybe not soon. Can you deal with that?”

He considered it briefly. “Can we be friends until you decide?”

The question was so offhanded that Clarisse had to laugh. “Yes, we can be friends.”

“Then yes,” he said gently, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Clarisse, you are a remarkable woman. For all that I would love to pay court to you, if we never become more than friends, I am still richer for your presence in my life.”

“You sure?”

“Completely. Now, shall I call for my attorney, or would you prefer to speak with your children first?”

“Will the attorney be okay if I day-drink?” She felt cored-out and hollow as the adrenalin of the last few minutes wore off. “I really need something harder than tea.”

“He would tell you to do whatever helps,” Erik assured her and ushered her into his office. A push of a button called for the as-of-yet-unseen legal aid even as Clarisse sank down into one of the comfortable chairs with a sigh of relief. “And so would I. Whiskey, vodka, or gin?”

+++

Uncollected Fantasy:

Below the Fog

Glitter Bold

God-Touched Tide

Into the Darkness

Turn Me

Wolf Moon

Blood Moon

Hallowed Halls Memorial

A Kiss to Heal a Broken Heart

+++

Support me on Patreon!

#marriage #married #disfunctional #bad family dynamics #divorce #unhappy #vampire #sorcerer #probably some stokholms syndrome #Erik is a little problematic #but so is brad #writing #writers #spilled ink #writing prompts #prompts #spilled thoughts #spilled words #writer #lee hadan #writing prompt

[cherryusa]

welcome to town, LUCAS BRIGHT!

CCU: SENIOR  MAJOR: WOMEN’S STUDIES SECRET: HE HELPED A FRIEND WITH A FILM PROJECT, AND SAID FRIEND SHOT EXTRA SCENES SO HE COULD LATER RELEASE IT AS... AN EROTIC FILM PROJECT. HE’S QUITE PROUD OF HIS BODY, SO NEVER WOULD HE BE ASHAMED OF THAT PART! RATHER... HE HAD TO DRESS AS AN ELF AND UTTER THE WORDS “THE FOREST NYMPHS HAVE TAUGHT ME HOW TO PLEASE A WOMAN.

“Do you really think Lux was murdered?“

“Uh...” It had been all of thirty seconds and Lucas was already confused. I mean, the police said one thing, that slideshow said another... who was he supposed to believe? The people working on the case? Or someone with a true eye for visuals? “No...?” ...Was that the right answer? The question he’d been asking all his life, really! He studied Clarissa then... and he couldn’t quite make out her reciprocated opinion (maybe because she was writing...). So maybe he said the wrong answer! “Or... yes?” Staring at her... he still wasn’t getting any confirmation. "Maybe. Final answer,” he concluded, slamming the table as if it were a Jeopardy button.

“Were you there the night of Carousel Cove? Do you think one Lux’s friends was behind the whole thing?”

“Yeah!” he exclaimed, banging the table with his fist. He had been thinking about this a lot lately! And he was pretty sure he knew the answer -- he just needed someone else to validate it! “Is the Cold War still a thing? Because I think the Russians maybe finally got us.” Unfortunately, Clarissa shook her head. So did they just give up? Should he have paid more attention in history classes? ...Nah, that was for nerds! But he soon made an astute observation: the Cold War had ended long ago, and she was definitely talking about the night as a whole... not just the explosion (but the Russians could also be blaming Lux’s friends!). “No -- they all seem like a nice group! And, between you and me, I don’t think any of them are smart enough to build a bomb...” He paused... furrowed his eyebrows... and asked the only question he had left... “Was the Cold War actually, like, physically cold?”

“Okay, like, if you had to recommend one place in town to spend all of your time - what would it be?"

“CCU! Sigma Pi represent!” he all but hollered, forcing a fist into the air like John Bender. Of course, that was, by default, the place he already spent the most time attempting to cultivate a degree (and the fact that he was actually probably going to graduate? Proved just how sad it was when people got accepted to Harvard and chose CCU instead...). “But, okay, I guess if I gotta pick somewhere that isn’t CCU..." God, there were so many potential answers... The Pit... Cinemaniacs... Frost-ee Freeze... but he knew -- oh, he knew -- his ultimate answer: "it’s gonna be Surf’s Up.” Folding his hands on the table, he figured it was only polite to explain his thought process! Why he hadn't chosen one of the other brilliant businesses! “See, I went in there a couple days ago and they had this cool new boogey board, right? Okay... okay, you ready to hear what it was?” She was only putting up with him and he was not reading that... which was the only reason his mother had taken him to therapy a few times as a kid to see if he was 'borderline artistic,' whatever that meant... “An iguana... wait for it...” Then, clapping his hands together, “with sunglasses!”

#cusaaccepted #accepted

[agentmarymargaretskitz]

Cursed

Inspired by @taleasoldastime-andspace‘s marvelous headcanons.

AO3, Fanfiction

“So while adenine pairs with thymine in DNA, it binds with uracil in RNA,” Lillian Stein explained to her class. “However, guanine and cytosine always come together in either. Nothing changes there. They always find each other.”

The bell rang as she capped her marker. Her students started to pack their notebooks and pencils away, chattering away with each other.

“Remember your lab reports are due tomorrow,” Lillian called after them as they began to leave. “Don’t forget to include your graphs.”

There were a few groans. Lillian turned around to erase the whiteboard she’d written on for the class. She didn’t have a class next period, and the ones that followed that were not biology. There were still some physics tests she needed to finish grading. Her prep hour could be spent working on that.

After gathering up the tests, her gradebook, and a few pens, Lillian left her classroom to go to the teacher’s lounge and ran right into someone. “Oof!”

“Sorry,” Ray Palmer apologized as the tests fell to the floor. “I didn’t see you there, Miss Stein.”

“No worries, Mr. Palmer,” Lillian bent down to pick up the stapled packets.

The school’s janitor dropped down low to the ground. “Let me help you out.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, taking the tests from him as he passed them to her. “How have you been?”

“Good,” Ray nodded quickly. “Things are good. Felicity and I went on a hike last weekend.”

Lillian ignored the twinge of jealousy that hit her when Ray mentioned his wife. “That sounds nice.”

“It was,” he replied before perking up. “Oh! You know how you’ve been trying to get your hands on a Van de Graaff generator?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, uh, I managed to build one.”

“Really?” Lillian grinned. “That’s amazing!”

He smiled at her as silence fell over them.

Lillian shifted the tests in her arms. “I should get going to grade these. I’ll see you around.”

“Cool.”

She walked away quickly, telling herself not to look back. If she had, she would have seen Ray looking back at her too.

Gideon Ryder pressed ‘Save’ on her finished article before leaning back in her chair. She stretched her arms and legs out with a groan. For the past five and a half hours, she’d been working her way through her assignments. As much as she loved working at the paper, sometimes she wished there was more that happened in the sleepy little town. She needed some juicy story to rescue her from writing about the latest mundane road construction.

The editor would be by later to pick up her articles. There was about an hour of time to kill until he’d pass by. Gideon sat back again to contemplate what to tackle next when her stomach began to growl. It reminded her that she’d yet to eat lunch yet. She could pop down quickly to the diner a few blocks down the street, have a bite to eat, and then walk back with time to spare.

Grabbing her coat, Gideon left the newspaper office and began a brisk walk down the street. A cold breeze blew down through the town, making her shudder and hug her coat tighter to her body. In the distance, she heard the sirens of the fire engine fading as it sped towards a fire. It’d probably wind up being another story she’d have to write tomorrow.

The warm air inside the diner made Gideon exhale happily as she entered. She placed her order and waited at the counter, listening to the conversations around her. There were a few pieces of gossip that she filed away for later as she ate her lunch. After she’d paid, she bundled back up and stepped outside to make her return trip.

“Gideon!”

She whirled around to see Rip Hunter, fisherman and town eccentric, running towards her. “Captain Hunter.”

“I need to ask you something,” the man said. “Will you-”

“No,” Gideon turned and began to walk away. “I refuse to participate in anything related to that insane theory of yours.”

“It’s only hypnosis therapy. It could help you remember who you are!”

“I know exactly who I am!” she huffed. “And it has never been the spirit of your ship. I am a journalist, always have been and always will be!”

“Gideon, wait!” Rip protested. “You need to believe me!”

She shook her head. “Rip, you’re rambling. I know it’s been difficult ever since you lost your family, and you’ve been working non-stop since then. Just take some time off. Please.”

With that, she walked away from him as he stared at her sadly.

As soon as he pulled up to the veterinarian’s, Mick braked hard and threw the truck into park. Gathering up the shuddering pile in the passenger seat, he carried the dog towards the office. There had been some pets in the fire his crew had just put out. The dog he held was the only survivor of the lot, but she wasn’t in good shape.

Lucky for him, he knew someone who could help.

The door slammed hard against the wall as he burst into the clinic. Mick cringed when he saw the mark that had been left in the wall.

“Mick Rory, I swear if that’s you!”

Amaya Jiwe came storming out of the back room, hair flying behind her in a ponytail. In their old lives in the Enchanted Forest, she had always been a force to be reckoned with. Here, she had been locked in the basement of the hospital with no clue who she was until Mick bargained with the Legion of Doom to give her another life years ago. Now, every day he woke up and found she was a veterinarian for the town. She managed to retain her ferocity now, but became as meek as the others in town whenever Malcolm Merlyn, Damien Darhk, or Eobard Thawne showed up.

“How many times do I need to tell you not to slam the door open like that?” she sighed as she caught sight of the mark in the wall.

He had lost count over the years, and that didn’t include the implanted memories of this cursed life. “Got a patient for you, Doc.”

She looked at the dog and stepped towards him. The poor animal whimpered a little as she took her from Mick’s arms.He heard her murmur softly to the dog as she walked towards an examination table. Mick followed after her, looking over the posters and diagrams put up on the walls.

“Found her in the fire we just put out,” he explained as Amaya started to look over the dog. “Couple other pets were there too, but she’s the only one who made it out alive. Ran her over here as soon as I could.”

“Good thing you did,” Amaya murmured. “She’s got a few burns I’m going to have to treat, along with some previous injuries. I’d like to keep her here overnight for observation in case she starts showing more signs of smoke inhalation. Do you know anything about the owners?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head. All these years he’d had, and Mick had never been able to figure out who had caused the fire or who the animals belonged to. “No one owned the house that burned. Neighbors had no clue there were even animals inside.”

“Strange,” she said. “Well, I’ll take her in for now. Hopefully, an owner can be found.”

“I’ll look into it,” Mick told her, moving towards the door. “I’ll come around tomorrow.”

“Okay. See you then.”

He’d never find the owner. Tomorrow, he would indeed be back here again. The curse made every day repeat itself over and over in the same way. One day, the Savior would come and change that though. She’d set in motion a series of events to break the curse the Legion of Doom had cast twenty eight years ago.

Then, Mick would have his power back to burn the world.

Clarissa Hofmann entered the hospital room, book in hand. The John Doe was in the same state as he always was. She had no idea how long he’d been in that coma for. However, when she’d volunteered at the hospital before, Dr. Thawne had asked her to keep an eye on him. No one had been visiting him or claimed him in any way.

“So he has no one?” she’d asked once she’d heard the story.

“Not a soul,” the doctor had replied.

In that way, she felt a kinship to John Doe. He seemed to be around her age, but the lack of visitors made her think he had no family or friends. She was alone in the world too. Mainly, Clarissa kept to herself. Yet oddly enough, the unknown comatose man made her feel a little less alone.

At least when he woke up, she wouldn’t have to do all the talking for both of them.

“Hope you don’t mind me reading to you,” Clarissa told him as she opened the book. “I’m not sure if you’re one for poetry, but I’ve always enjoyed Robert Frost.”

He didn’t say anything as she started to read Fire and Ice. For about an hour, she stayed and read to him before leaving the hospital. As she did, a young woman who she believed taught at the local school came in. She held the door for Clarissa as they passed each other. After murmuring a quiet thank you, the older woman started her journey home.

(One day soon, she’d get a book from Laurel Drake to read to the man. She would read a story of a man who could burn like the sun to the John Doe. Only then would he grab her hand and finally start to awaken.)

Mayor Leonard Snart gazed out the window of his office as he prepared to leave for the night. From here, he could see the face of the clock tower. Its hands had been frozen at 8:15 for as long as he could remember. If his reelection campaign proved successful, then he would make a town-wide effort to have it restored to working order. However, that could only really occur if he got reelected.

Damien Darhk was competing against him to take his place as mayor. Leonard knew he was well-liked by the people in the town, but Darhk posed a serious challenge. Along with Eobard Thawne and Malcolm Merlyn, Darhk was one of the most powerful men in town. Many people in the town were intimidated by them, and fear could provide a lot of pull. He had called Mick earlier to tell him about his concerns of losing his campaign, but Mick had only responded by assuring him that he would be mayor for ‘a very long time’.

Gathering up his coat, Leonard left his office and walked out of the town hall. As he did, he recollected that he was supposed to have met with Laurel Drake today. However, she had never shown up for it. He’d heard that she’d been acting strangely lately. Hopefully, nothing was seriously wrong with her.

(He ran into Laurel three days later. She was with a blonde woman named Sara who looked like the last place she wanted to be was in the town hall. When he met her, he didn’t know why he suddenly had thoughts of criminal activity crossing his mind.)

Sara Lance blew out the candle on her cupcake before dropping back into a chair. Looking out the window of her new apartment, she sighed at the view. Star City was no different than any other city she’d worked bail bonds in. Tonight’s assignment had been successful, but she’d broken a heel and lost a knife. At least she’d gotten a happy birthday from her mark before revealing that she was onto him. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had acknowledged her birthday. It wasn’t like she hung around long enough anywhere for people to do so.

Did her own parents, or at least her mother, ever think about her on her birthday?”

A knock on the door pulled Sara back from the slippery slope of wallowing in misery. Rising to her feet, Sara padded over to the door and opened it. On the other side, a brunette who looked like the lawyer type was standing there. She seemed harmless, but Sara still made sure she could grab a knife if she needed to.

“Sara Lance?” the stranger asked, her eyes widening.

“Yeah,” Sara nodded slowly. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Laurel Drake. I’m your sister.”

#legends of tomorrow #once upon a time #au #raily #timeship #foxfire #mixen #mick x amaya #vixenwave #martin x clarissa #captain canary #lance sisters #taleasoldastime andspace

[emulateharry]

story of my life

Chapter 19

Thank you to my dear @niallandharrymakemestrong, @melissas173 and @whoopsharrystyles for promising to drag me kicking and screaming over the finish line.  One more to go...

If you like this, would you hit the button or send me a note? If you didn’t, would you let me know why?  Thanks for reading!

Anne went home two days later having missed Robin terribly while in London with Harry and Kacey.  As she left, she hugged and kissed Kacey inviting her to come and visit in Cheshire.  Harry drove her to the train while Kacey stayed at the house.  There were paps lingering across the street and next door at the pub, ready to catch them anytime they came out, so Kacey rarely did. She puttered around, cleaning and menu planning and trying to find something to occupy her time between therapy appointments.  Harry was gone every day to meetings and working in the studio.  Kacey wrote thank yous to the doctors and nurses at the hospital for saving her.  She spent some time with Laura on the phone, learning more about her financial situation.  She was shocked at the vast amount of investments and property she owned;  she was a very wealthy young woman.  She went a little crazy online shopping after that phone call, ordering gifts for Anne, Gemma, the staff at the rehab center, Clarissa and Harry, of course. One afternoon Clarissa called to tell her that the inspectors wanted to interview her about the night she was attacked.  They had asked her to come down to the station to talk with them.  Clarissa had rejected that out of hand and wanted to get permission to have them interview Kacey at Harry’s house.  Of course Harry agreed and they scheduled a time.  Clarissa would be present and Harry rearranged some meetings to make sure he was available.  They had agreed on the following Tuesday afternoon.

Harry had been very busy with several projects, which involved boring meetings, and writing songs.  He was gone all day every day but he did manage to be at home most nights.  When he had to go out, he always asked that Kacey join him.   Whenever it was a business and pleasure mix, she declined.  When he was simply socializing she went with him, enjoying the time out with him and his friends.  He had bought her several more anti-pap scarves and she wore them religiously.  It had worked; no pap photos of Kacey had yet made it into the tabs.

It was Friday morning and Harry was excited; two of his appointments had been postponed and he had the rest of the day free from obligations.  He spent about an hour making the rounds of the florist, Kacey’s favorite chocolatier and lastly to her favorite restaurant to pick up some lunch.  Making it home, he opened the door and called out for her but there was no answer.  With a dreadful sense of deja vu,  he put the flowers and food in the kitchen and went to look for her.  He was about to go upstairs to the bedroom when he heard music coming from the exercise room.  As he got closer he could hear her pounding on the treadmill and he almost laughed at the song that was playing.  He opened the door carefully to avoid startling her and, fortuitously, it was perfect timing to hit the verse. Kacey saw the door opening and looked over to see Harry slinking in, doing some weird disco moves and singing loudly “I’m your boogie man, that’s what I am.  I’m here to do whatever I can; be it early morning or late afternoon or at midnight it’s never too soon.  To wanna please you, to wanna kiss you…”  She giggled at his ridiculous dancing and waggling eyebrows.  Turning off the treadmill she accepted his proffered hand and he twirled her into a perfect spin into his arms.  They danced for the rest of the song until Kacey was laughing and breathless.  He kissed her soundly as the song ended abruptly.

“Who would have thought you were a disco fan?” he teased.

“Hey now!  The beat is perfect for my slow 17 minute mile pace.  Don’t tease, at least I’m faster than I was.  Now smarty, what are you doing home?” she smiled up into his face.

“Meetings were postponed.  Thought I’d spend the day with my girl.  I brought lunch, are you hungry?” he asked planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Yes! I didn’t have breakfast, just a cup of tea. What did you bring me?” she asked eagerly, realizing just how hungry she was.

Harry walked her to the dining room and pulled a chair out for her.  When Kacey tried to help him get things ready, he refused and stopped her protests with his lips on hers.  He hustled to the kitchen ostensibly for plates and utensils.  Kacey could hear him banging around in the cabinets and running the water.  When he returned, he had put the flowers in a vase and placed them in front of her before giving her a chaste kiss on the lips.  Turning around, he went back into the kitchen.  Kacey watched him with rapt attention, a small smile playing on her lips.  He had set the table and laid out the food and was heading back into the kitchen to get drinks when she called to him.

“Harry?”

“Yes, pet?” he paused in the doorway to look back at her.

“I love you,” she stated with a slight blush, her eyes never leaving his.

Harry turned and walked slowly to her.  Kneeling down, he stroked her cheek and looked intently at her trying to sear this moment into his memory.

“I love you, Kassidy,” he breathed as he stretched to kiss her properly.  He held her tightly, kissing her ear, her hair, her neck…anything he could reach.

 Relaxing his hold at last, he pulled back to look at her face, his eyes moist.  He placed a tiny kiss on her scar, then one on her nose.

“We’d better get you fed, baby.  I think you’ll be needing some energy for the rest of the afternoon....” he added huskily, a dimple revealing itself.

Kacey smiled at him, hands weaving into his hair before pulling him to her once again.  “I think you’re right,” she murmured as her mouth sought his.

* Harry had been moved to tears once again making love to her.  Hearing her declaration was like the crumbling of a dam holding back all the emotions that he had tried to keep in check.  He was overwhelmed with relief, and love and awe.  For her part, she seemed to let go as well.  Gone was the caution and the fear and hesitance.  Though he had tried to demonstrate his love in the past, this was the first time they had both clearly known how the other felt.  They were free to express themselves to one another.  Their lovemaking was languid and, it seemed to Harry, more intimate than he had ever experienced before.  Being in love and loved in return was the greatest high he had ever felt.

* Tuesday morning came quickly.  Clarissa arrived at 11 AM to help prepare Kacey for the meeting.

“Kassidy, dear, there’s no reason to worry.  They are professionals and will be very considerate; I will not allow them to be otherwise.”

At that, Kacey felt her anxiety drain away.  She hadn’t realized how tense she had been until she felt her shoulders relax.

Harry was pacing about the lounge in a distracted way, frowning as he listened to their conversation, stopping only when the security door buzzed.   After checking the camera, he pressed the release and two women entered the courtyard.  He opened the French door and they walked into the dining room as Clarissa and Kacey rose from their seats in greeting.  The shorter of the two women extended her hand to Kacey first.

“Miss Day, I am Detective Chief Inspector Margaret Sheppard and this is Ms. Amelia Williams from the CPS.”

Kacey looked at them quizzically before Clarissa explained “Crown Prosecution Service.”

Kacey smiled and shook her head slightly.  “Sorry!  In the States CPS was Child Protective Services.  I was confused for a minute.”

The detective and the barrister smiled at her before DCI Sheppard continued.

“Thank you for talking with us, Miss Day.  We---“

“Kacey.  Call me Kacey,” she said.  The formal tone was making her nervous.  She could feel Harry twitching as he stood behind her at the dining room table.

“Kacey.  Would you please tell us about the night you were assaulted?”

“I can’t tell you anything about that night.”

“Why not?” Ms. Williams asked, surprised.

“I don’t remember anything,” Kacey said through a rueful smile.

“If you would allow me to lead you through some questions, perhaps we could help you remember the details,” DCI Sheppard offered.

Clarissa broke into the conversation.  “What Miss Day is trying to explain is that she has amnesia.  She has no memories of that night.  In fact, her most recent memory, prior to waking up in the hospital, was from two and a half years ago.”

Ms. Sheppard, who had been looking at Kacey intently, looked down at her notebook and blinked.  When she looked up, her lips were pressed into a thin line.   “That must be very hard for you.  Have the doctors said that you might regain your memory?”

“They are not certain.  She may regain some.  She may get it all back or she may never get it back,” Harry answered for her.  His hands were on Kacey’s shoulders, kneading gently.

“I’m sorry, Chief Inspector.  I wish I could help,” Kacey said quietly.

“It’s okay Kacey.  The evidence is clear, your statement is not crucial.  If you do remember at some point in the future, I would like to speak with you again.”

Miss Williams cleared her throat and all eyes turned to her.

“Kacey, I have been approached by the barrister for Carol Nicole Pinkerton,” she began.  Kacey looked at her blankly.

“The girl who attacked you, Kassidy,” Clarissa explained.

Kacey gave a small nod and began to pale as she looked to the prosecutor once again.  She reached up to take one of Harry’s hands on her shoulder.  He enfolded hers within his and squeezed gently, the contact helping to calm them both.

“Miss Pinkerton would like to meet with you and apologize in person.”

“No! Absolutely not!” Harry shouted, surprising himself along with everyone else in the room.  “I don’t want that girl anywhere near Kassidy.”

Kacey sat with one hand splayed on her chest, the other holding tightly to Harry.  Her eyes were wide and she began to tremble as she looked from the inspector to Clarissa.

“Do I have to?” she asked.

“No, of course not darling.  It’s up to you to decide—”   Clarissa began before Harry shouted again.

“NO! No fucking way, Kassidy! Don’t even think about it.”

“Can you tell me about her?” Kacey asked turning her attention back to Ms. Williams.

“Miss Pinkerton suffers from Schizophrenia.  When she is medicated, she is a good student and an excellent athlete.  She was not on her medicine when she attacked you.  According to her barrister, she is horrified at her actions and is currently suffering from depression in addition to her other mental illness.  She is anxious to have the opportunity to apologize to you in person.  To you as well, Mr. Styles.”

“Oh, there it is.  She wants to meet me? Isn’t her obsession with me what brought on this attack in the first place?” Harry spat out.

“Who would be at the meeting?” Kacey asked.

“You could bring whomever you choose.  DCI Sheppard and I would be there, as well as the girl, her family and her barrister,” explained Ms. Williams.

“May I think about it and let you know?”

“Of course, Kacey.  Please just let me know what you decide,” the prosecutor answered her.  Gathering her things she added “We’ve taken up enough of your time today.  Thank you for seeing us.”

Clarissa walked them to the door and watched as they left.  She turned back to the couple at the table.  Harry was still standing behind Kacey’s chair, gripping so tightly his fingertips were numb.

“Harry---” she began.

“No.  No, Kassidy.  I will not have you anywhere near that girl!”  Harry’s cheeks were red and the large vein in his neck was distended as he paced to the other side of the table.

“Harry, I’m not afraid.  Maybe this will help her,” Kacey said.

“Are you crazy? No fucking way! She almost killed you!  I know you don’t remember that, but I do! What the hell are you thinking?” he was shouting again.

“I’m thinking that you need to calm down.”

“How can I calm down when you are actually entertaining this idea?  It’s ridiculous! Don’t be stupid, Kassidy,” he finished snidely.

Clarissa thought about interrupting and sparing Harry but decided against it and leaned against the doorframe to watch, a small smile playing about her lips.

“First off, Harry, I am not stupid.  Do not insult me. I understand that you are upset—”

“Damn right I am.  You would be too if that brain of yours was working properly,” Harry turned up the volume even more.

Clarissa watched, amused.  Poor lad.  She’d heard that he had a temper, even though he rarely displayed it.  It was unfortunate for him that loud and angry did not intimidate Kacey; it made her angrier.

“Shut the fuck up for a minute!” Kacey’s shout echoed in the room as she bolted up out of her chair.

Harry was surprised into silence.

“You can be angry. You can be upset.  But you cannot call me stupid and imply that I am not in my right mind.   Get a grip on yourself right now, mister, or you will reap what you are sowing.  Do you understand me, Styles?” she shouted again.  “Where is the famous Harry Styles kindness, hmm?  Do you only stick to your principles when it’s easy?  Do you really stand for being ‘nice to nice’ or are you a hypocrite?” she finished, her eyes flashing.

“Don’t reward her! She wanted to get to me by attacking you. If you give in to this, we set a precedent.  What will they do the next time?” he growled at her.

“Do you hear yourself?  Do you know how conceited you sound right this minute? This is not about you, Harry.  This is about what happened to me.  What if I need to see this girl, to ask her why she did this to me? Did that ever occur to you? That I might need to see her?”

Harry stood still, looking at Kacey.  At last he let out a long breath before saying “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry, baby.  The thought of you in the same room as her makes me sick.  The thought of me in the same room makes me doubt that I will be able to keep my anger in check.”

Turning to her lawyer, Kacey asked “Clarissa, would you go with me?”

“Of course, Kassidy.  I won’t let anyone hurt her, Harry,” she stated firmly.

“Would you mind handling the details?” Kacey asked her.  Receiving an affirmative nod, she walked over to Harry.  “You don’t have to go.  You don’t have to put yourself through that.  I understand.  If someone ever hurt you, I would want their head on a platter…and I would want to have been the one who put it there,” she said reaching her arms around his waist.

Harry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close.  Kacey tucked her head beneath his chin and held him tightly. They stood swaying back and forth as Clarissa gathered her things and made to leave.

“I’ll let you know the arrangements, Kassidy,” she said as she walked out the door closing it behind her.

Kacey and Harry continued to hold one another in silence.

* Harry was gone again.  It was studio day and he would be there until late at night.  Kacey didn’t mind keeping herself company but wished she could be more productive.  It was as if everyone was trying to protect her from her life.   Granted she couldn’t remember much about it but no one was providing her with any details either.  Vaguely she wondered if the doctors had discouraged them from doing so.

She had cleaned the house, prepared a dinner that they could reheat when he got home, and done the laundry.  She had exercised, called her dad and Laura and taken a shower.  She had bundled up and gone out to wander around the courtyard for a few minutes of fresh air, examining the landscaping and daydreaming.  Clarissa had called about the meeting with her attacker; it was scheduled for the following Wednesday.  At least she had a week to mentally prepare for it.

It was evening when she ambled into the sitting room and over to the bookshelves.  Her headaches had finally gone away and she thought she might try reading to pass the time.  After perusing the shelves for a while, she pulled down the copy of Cook’s Postulates and took it over to the settee.   Curling up in the corner, she pulled a fluffy blanket up around her.   She reached for the stuffed moose that she had found in her things and had taken to carrying around.   Fussing with pillows until she was comfortable, she finally opened the book and began to read.

“Dr. Karl Burke was laying on the bed in the executive suite of the Branham Hotel.  His eyes were heavily lined with kohl and his lids were shadowed to perfection.”

Four hours later Harry found her sitting there, engrossed, with only a few more pages to go.  He kissed her on the head and went to the kitchen in search of food.  Finding the stew that she had made earlier, he placed it on the cooker to warm up and went back to join Kacey.   She was staring at nothing, preoccupied, moving her fingers back and forth over the cover of the book.   She looked up when he sat next to her.

Glancing at the book in her hands he asked “Well, what did you think?”

She hesitated before answering.  “It’s so weird.  I recognize so many things, people.  But none of the words are familiar.  I can tell that I wrote it; it sounds like me, like my voice.  But I don’t remember doing it.  Would it be vain of me to say that it’s good?”

“Only if it weren’t,” he said grinning at her.

“Do you realize the gift I was given?  I just read a book that I wrote! I was able to read it like any other person, with no knowledge of what was going to happen.  And I liked it.  It’s the type of book I would buy.  I feel like I’m having a weird out of body experience or something,” she finished, looking a bit dazed.

“Do you think you can sit and write more after reading this one?” he asked.

“No.  No, I don’t.  I have no idea how I came up with something this good. I know how awfully smug that sounds, to say that.  But it is,” she said picking at her lip.

“I know it is.  You are a very talented writer, Kassidy.  It will come back to you, baby.  Wait and see.”

* Kacey had binge read the rest of her books and enjoyed them all.  It was tantalizingly familiar while not being familiar at all.  Such a juxtaposition made her feel out of sorts.

She had been searching for something to occupy her time, tired of watching movies and television programs.  It was a meeting day for Harry and he would be gone until late in the evening.  She had gone into the second guest room to put away some sheets when she saw her laptop on the shelf in the closet.   She took it down and into the lounge.  Firing it up, she was confronted with the password prompt.  Guessing, she typed in the five letters, the first one capitalized.  The computer unlocked for her and she shook her head that she had guessed so easily.  Of course the password had been ‘Harry.’ She explored the files she had saved, reading notes on storylines and looking at pictures. She scanned the recipes and craft patterns that she had catalogued on the hard drive.  Clicking on the Zinio app, she browsed recent magazines and read several articles.

Finally she opened YouTube and looked through her saved videos.  She sat and watched all the One Direction videos, some she was familiar with and others that she didn’t recall.  She was having a good time, watching the fan videos and the interviews that she didn’t remember seeing before.  Going to the next recommended video, she began watching the clip but paused it in confusion.  She checked the date on it—New Year’s Eve, just two months ago.  She hit play again and saw Harry standing on the deck of a yacht with Kendall Jenner snuggling up to him.  He looked to be intoxicated as they stood there watching the countdown.  Kacey froze as Harry began to kiss Kendall, tongues very much in use, his hands wound in her hair.  But she and Harry were together in December.  She had made Christmas dinner for his family; she had seen the pictures.  Yet there he was, tongue firmly in that bitch’s mouth, just a week later.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Oh. My. God.

Harry had cheated on her.

* It was evening when Harry arrived home.  He finally had a night free and he planned to do nothing but spend the time with Kacey.  Entering through the dining room doors, he placed his keys in the bowl on the edge of the sideboard.  The house smelled wonderful, redolent of garlic and spices and tomatoes.  He was smiling as he walked into the lounge only to find Kacey’s laptop on the coffee table facing him.  A video was playing in a loop with the sound off.  It was the video of him kissing Kendall on the yacht.  The smile and the color faded from his face.  He looked up to see Kacey standing in the doorway to the kitchen, staring at him.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” her voice was low and measured, her face expressionless except for the tightness around her eyes.

Harry’s lips were pressed tightly together, his shoulders drooping.

“So. Did you fuck her?” each word enunciated clearly, one eyebrow arched and eyes boring into his.

The question stabbed at his heart. He hesitated a fraction too long and Kacey pounced.

“Stop with the planned media response Harry and answer the damned question!  Did you fuck her on that boat?” her eyes narrowing into slits.

“No,” he managed to say quietly, meeting her gaze.

“So help me God if you are thinking some bullshit like ‘I made love to her, I didn’t fuck her’ I will punch you in that beautiful face,” a flush rising into her cheeks, her nails biting into the palms of her hands at her sides.

“No.”

“Fabulous.  Everyone knew about this.  Everyone I’ve met.  You.  Your mom.  Laura.  EVERYONE knew but me.  She called me Scarface at your birthday party!  That little cunt!” her voice rising. “Why didn’t you tell me?  Do you have any idea how humiliated I feel?”

“I didn’t know how to bring it up.  I didn’t want to hurt you” he said plaintively.

“Didn’t want to hurt me,” she scoffed.  “Tell me, Harry, do I look hurt now?” she asked through clenched teeth.

Harry flinched slightly and looked away.

“Aww, am I boring you?  Have we had this conversation before?”

“No.”

“Really?  How is that possible?” she asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Because you left me.  You were gone when I got home.  I couldn’t find you.  The next time I saw you was in that hospital bed,” his voice cracking.

Kacey processed that.  “Am I here now because you feel guilty?” she asked with a hint of fear in her voice.

“No!” raking his fingers through his hair, “No, Kassidy.  I love you.”

“How do I know that’s not a lie?  Why should I believe you?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“Because I lost you.  Twice.  I don’t ever want to lose you again.  I don’t know that I would survive losing you again,” grief breaking the mask of calm he had tried to wear.

The despair and fear in his voice struck Kacey like a blow.  She took a step back and leaned against the doorframe for support.  Her face crumpled and the tears that she had held at bay found their escape.  Harry moved to her and gathered her to him, both of them relieved at the contact.   Kacey was clinging to him as she sobbed into his chest.  Harry held her tightly, afraid to let go.  He kissed her head over and over again, murmuring soothing sounds and ‘I love yous.’  They stood rocking together for what felt like hours until Kacey’s tears abated.

Keeping her head down, still holding him tightly, she asked softly “Why?”

Harry bit his lip trying to find the words.  He had dreaded this moment for weeks, not knowing how to explain himself.  He had had plenty of time for introspection while sitting next to her in the hospital.   He had gone over that night again and again and still could not untangle the reasons for what he had done.

“I…I was drunk.  That’s not an excuse,” he said quickly, “but it is part of the reason.  I missed you.  I was disappointed and…a bit angry…that you weren’t there with me.  I was drowning my sorrows all day, by midnight I was so drunk that I…I imagined that she was you.  I even called her ‘Kassidy’…”

Kacey pulled back to look up at him, her left eyebrow raised.  “You called her my name?”

Harry closed his eyes before confessing quietly “Yes.”

There was a pause then Kacey broke into a grin and shouted “Take THAT tall, skinny bitch!”

Harry just looked at her in surprise.

“So, you were gone and I was here and I found out. Let me guess, I ran,” she said, mildly disgusted.

“You left, yes.  I couldn’t find you.  I called the police, I hired investigators, and I called everyone.  I called Laura,” he replied.

“I’ll bet that was pleasant,” she remarked with a small smile.  She looked down at the floor and snuggled back into Harry’s arms.  “So I didn’t talk to you? Wait…I bet I left you a heart wrenching letter,” looking at his expression she knew she was right.  “Oh yeah, that’s me; don’t want to confront but want to tell you how I feel,” her tone derisive.

Harry was resting his head on hers and they were rocking again when he heard her say, in a small voice, “I’m sorry.”

He tilted her face up to his, looking at her fresh tears, confused.  “For what? What could you possibly have to be sorry about?”

She sniffed and answered, voice shaking “Instead of just staying here and having it out with you, I ran away like a coward.  I didn’t stay here to fight for you.  All this drama, all this pain—it’s my fault.”

“Kassidy, baby, you didn’t do anything…” he protested.

“Harry, you got drunk and kissed someone else.  That wasn’t the smartest move, but it wasn’t bad enough to deserve all this shit we’ve been through.  I mean, don’t do it again or I’ll have to remove your genitals with a spoon and they are far too nice for that,” she smiled shyly. “I’m sorry for over-reacting. Will you forgive me?” she asked him.

“Only if you forgive me.  I love you baby,” he said against her forehead.

“I’ll forgive you, but that bitch better stay away from you or I’ll have to have her killed. What? I know people.”

Harry smiled and shook his head at her.

“Harry, is there any other surprise out there that I should know about?” she asked hesitantly.

“No, Kassidy.  I swear there is nothing else.”

“Well that’s a relief,” she replied and then paused.  Laura’s words came back to her, to ‘be nice to the man who loved her.’  Letting out a long slow breath, she reached up to put her hand gently on his face.

“I love you, Harry,” she said, tears welling.  “I need you.  Please.  Take me upstairs and make love to me.”

“As you wish, baby,” he replied bending to sweep her up into his arms.

#soml19 #hassidy #hacey #harry and kacey #one more

[robininthelabyrinth]

Dragon Week 5 (coldwave) - the Pest pt 2

For @oneiriad, who wanted more of the Pest story, here's The Pest part 2, the interquel or whatever they're called when they're not before or after

Will presumably only make sense if you read The Pest pt 1 here (tumblr) or here (ao3)

Ao3 link

-

When Rip Hunter came for Heatwave, he came for a master thief.

One of the best of all time, some said. The heists he pulled were clever – almost fiendishly brilliant – and perfectly executed: timing, planning, contingencies built on contingencies, everything. They were even stylish. And then his turn towards supervillainy was nothing short of impressive in itself: to continue to operate as a thief in Central City when faced with the full might and speed of the Flash, to broker a deal with him in order to continue operations and then to maneuver that deal into a band of meta-humans who considered themselves indebted to him..! Nothing short of brilliant.

Despite the man’s somewhat unusual personal eccentricities – he was well-known to history as a pyromaniac, thus the nickname ‘Heatwave’ despite his possession of both hot and cold guns, and of course his habit of taking his pet dragon (only in Central…) with him everywhere he went was very nearly as well known – Rip was certain that Mick Rory would be a valuable addition to his team of Legends.

He wasn’t expecting him to be quite so…thuggish.

“Ouch!” Rip yelps, pulling his foot up onto his chair and glaring at the big, fat dragon that had stepped on his food while lumbering over to eat some of the food Rory had left for him. What an ungainly brute! He couldn’t understand why Rory kept it around. Someone capable of such excellent twists of timing surely had no need for a creature that spent half its days lazing around in a ungainly pile on the floor, thrashing its tail from side to side.

Honestly, Rip would swear that creature had a tendency to step on him in particular, especially when he was contemplating Rory’s many deficiencies.

Hmm. Well, at least it was well-trained.

Perhaps Mr. Palmer was correct in his suggestion that the creature served as some sort of therapy animal.

It couldn't possibly be of any real use.

--------------------------------------------------------

"Who thinks -" a voice starts, then abruptly cuts off. Ray freezes where he's sitting flat on his butt in a closet. That wasn't his fault: he was heading towards the dagger when Mick's stupid dragon had headbutted him.

Suddenly, the voice is laughing. "Well, well," Savage says - 'cause that is definitely Savage, oh crap - "it seems that we have a Central City dragon, well outside of its regular haunts. What rich man thought you a prize, my sweet?"

Ray peeks out the closet door. Savage is kneeling down before the dragon, holding out a piece of meat, which the dragon takes and swallows. He has a nasty looking knife in his other hand. A knife meant for Ray.

Gulp.

The dragon purrs.

It sounds like a motorcycle engine without a proper muffler.

"Sir?" another voice says from the door.

"Cancel the alarm," Savage says, standing. "It seems was only our, ah, ‘little’ friend here. Come along, yes - come - there is food this way -"

The dragon - traitor! - waddles off after Savage, apparently quite happy to be lured to the dark side by the suggestion of food, even if it was evil food.

Though if it hadn't pushed him into the closet, Ray might've gotten caught.

Probably some good training on Mick's part; some instinct to hide humans if guards were coming. Dragons were like pigeons, right? You could train pigeons.

At least now Ray has a clear line of sight on the dagger.

Though he doesn't know how to explain to Mick that he'd lost his companion dragon, and to Savage of all people...

Turns out he doesn't have to, since the dragon comes back by the time Ray undoes the system guarding the dagger. It's draped in gold chains, the little tart. Savage has horribly gaudy taste.

The dragon tries to push him away from the box, but a simple swat on the nose takes care of that. Ray's almost done, he can't be distracted by a dragon being weirdly twitchy -

A cage drops down around them both.

The dragon lightly bonks its head against the base of the pedestal, almost like it's frustrated. Then it turns its beady little eyes on Ray.

Ray gulps.

Mick had said the dragon was totally safe. Then why did Ray feel fundamentally unsafe right now..?

Dragons are like pigeons, right? Giant, scaly pigeons.

With, uh, very long teeth...long, toxic teeth…

Ray has never been so happy to be threatened by a villain before in his life. Thanks, Savage!

-------------------------------------------------------------

The dragon is blisteringly mad, Jax thinks.

Sure, it's just a dumb animal, but it clearly didn't appreciate Mick having tossed the box with the thermal core to it and telling it to run.

Well, 'run' might not be the word - dragons primarily waddled - but they did have wings and it had been able to climb up the wall, thermal core box in mouth, before any of the Russians could get to him. Bullet-proof scales were helpful that way.

Still.

Jax kneels down by the dragon.

"We'll get him back," he tells it. "Doesn't matter what Rip says; Sara's got a plan. We've got this."

The dragon growls, but turns and rubs it's head on Jax's knee.

"Man, I haven't played with one of you since I was a kid," Jax says wistfully. He remembered climbing all over one; they were quite nice, really, as long as you weren’t malicious. And there wasn’t any strict cut-off point where they stopped seeing you as a kid: as long as you were nice and cheerful, they didn’t mind you at all.

"I just wish there was something I could do," Jax says.

The dragon - Mick called him Len, and sometimes Lenny, which was a bit of a weird name for a dragon, but then again dragons didn't usually have names at all - turns and closes his jaws lightly around Jax's wrist. It's nowhere near enough pressure to hurt, but Jax is Central City, born and bred: he freezes.

First rule of playing with dragons: they mean you no harm, and if you don't move, they won't do anything.

The dragon tugs lightly at Jax's wrist.

"Careful there," Jax says. "I'm breakable. Please remember that."

The dragon huffs a little, and hacks up a puff of smoke. It's barely warm enough to heat Jax's arm, even though the dragon hasn't released him.

Jax can't help but grin. "Yeah, I'm the one who's normally on fire," he says. "Can't without Stein - whoa, careful now!" he adds, because the dragon has gone back to teething on him. "If you bite me -"

He pauses.

"Hold up," he says. "Stein told me about a thing once. You bit me, he gets bit too - and they used it to pass messages!"

The dragon releases him.

"Lenny, you're a genius," Jax says, and scratches its chin before dashing off to tell the others.

As he passes through the door, he sees the dragon yawn and curl up for a nap. Must've worn itself out, worrying about Mick.

Dragons were so cute.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pirates weren't anticipating a bear-size bullet-proof-scale-covered lump of blubber with sharp, toxic teeth and the ability to breath fire and ice.

They certainly weren't anticipating one coming out of the vents.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I found Jax," Mick reports.

"Is he still a bird creature?" Kendra asks.

"Yep."

"...are you okay?"

"Yep."

"What did you do to him?"

"Nothing.”

“Mick…”

“Lenny's sitting on him, s'all. Maybe the kid’s a little flatter now, not gonna lie..."

Kendra snickers despite herself.

"I'm going after Savage," she says.

"Take Haircut," Mick advises.

"You think I can't manage on my own either?" she asks, annoyed.

"That's dumber than I usually am," Mick says. "I don't work alone either, and I'm pretty damn good at managing by myself. That ain’t why you get yourself a partner."

"You don't?" Kendra asks, frowning. Mick always kept back to himself, though he was slowly warming up to the rest of the group. "Who do you usually work with?"

"Lenny, of course."

Kendra covers her smile. "Ah, yes," she says as solemnly as she can. "Of course. A very valuable partner to have at your back."

"Now you're getting the picture," Mick says approvingly.

"It's not quite the same thing..."

"Haircut's more like a puppy than Len is," Mick says. Kendra has to nod a little at that, even though she's still smiling; still, she's glad Mick's delusions of companionship haven't gone quite so far. "Besides, even a puppy can be useful."

"Oh?"

"Well," Mick says. "Between me and Lenny, which one of us do you think's sitting on Jax right now?"

"With you, Mick," Kendra says, now grinning outright, "I'd say it's even odds."

Mick barks a laugh.

Kendra decides that maybe it won't hurt to take Ray as back-up.

They still don’t get the dagger, but on the bright side, they manage to get back to the ship before the Time Masters’ thugs steal it away.

Imagine if they hadn’t – they might’ve been stuck in the past!

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The dragon yawns ostentatiously by Stein's side.

Every single one of the cowboys in the tavern avert their eyes, like they want to be elsewhere.

They'd initially come around mockingly at Stein's "pet", which Mick had insisted he take with him - assuming perhaps that he was some sort of dancing bear.

To be entirely honest, Stein hadn't particularly disagreed, though he stiffly objected when they tried to make the dragon perform. This was Mr. Rory's therapy animal, after all, however unusual the species chosen; he could just imagine Clarissa's reaction he explained that it had survived supervillains and pirates but had gotten injured when it was supposedly entrusted to his care.

Then the dragon had spat out what could only be described as a hairball of ice into the gun (and hand) of the man who tried to shoot Stein, and suddenly everyone seemed to be thinking better of screwing with him.

"You're not that bad," Stein whispers to the dragon, and sneaks him some scraps from the table.

Mr. Rory had done an excellent job of training it, really.

At any rate, Stein certainly felt safer with it by its side while the others went to deal with the bandit gang.

While he...

"I don't suppose you have any views on using future medicine to save that poor boy's life," Stein says waspishly to the dragon.

The dragon just purrs unhelpfully.

"Well, I'm going to get it from the ship," Stein says. "Are you coming?"

The dragon got up on its feet, which given its bulk was no small feat.

Stein chose to take its willingness to obey as approval.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The dragon waddled through the door and went straight for Sara, catching her boot with his teeth and tugging.

Sara hadn't really had that much interactions with the dragon - she liked Mick well enough, even if his tendency to refer to the dragon by a human name and act like he answered questions was weird; she couldn't imagine ever doing that to any of the rats or eponymous small birds that littered Starling - but she smirks down at it regardless.

It tugs again, almost desperately.

It probably wanted something.

Where was Mick, anyway?

Oh, right, on the mission to rescue his “past self” from the Pilgrim. What a bizarre idea.

"What's wrong, Lenny?" she jokes. "Mickey's fallen down a well?"

The dragon releases her boot and looks up at her.

If she didn't know better, she'd say it was glaring.

She grins, about to make another joke when –

"No, you moron, Hunter's gonna get him shot," it says. "Now get off your ass and help him."

"Holy crap you can talk!"

The dragon bares its teeth at her.

"Which I will wonder about later because right now I'm going to help Mick," Sara says hastily.

It just watches her run off the ship with narrow eyes.

After she helps save Mick, and after that Mick helps save her own past self, and one thing after another, it's only at the Refuge that she finally gets a minute to confront him about his apparently talking dragon.

“Yeah, so?” he says.

“Why didn’t you mention it?” she hisses. That dragon was everyone on the Waverider - god only knows how much it knew about all of them -

“No point,” he says. “You ever see that old WB short they used to put in front of movies? The one with the dancing frog?”

“The…you mean ‘One Froggy Evening’?”

“S’that what it’s called?”

“The one with the frog that dances and sings when it’s alone with its owner, yeah, but when it’s in public it –” Her eyes go wide. “Oooooh.”

“Yeah,” Mick says, shaking his head. “Just like that. Lenny’s a bit of a dick.”

“I can appreciate that in a guy,” Sara says. “Or, uh, dragon. As the case may be.”

Mick just shrugs.

“You’re not worried about the Pilgrim going after him, are you?” she asks, a little anxiously. Now that she knew it was sentient, well, it made a lot of the more amusing incidents on board the Waverider look a lot less like silly pet accidents and a lot more like the workings of a brilliant, mischievous mind.

“Nah,” Mick says. “Dragons’ scales apparently repel everything, even time.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have no idea,” Mick confesses. “Lenny refused to explain, when I asked.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Oculus explosion…is.

There’s no other way to describe it. Mick couldn’t let Haircut sacrifice himself, he just couldn’t, and he knows that makes him a sentimental idiot, but he had to do it. He barely even thought about it.

He did spare a thought to hope that Jax and Sara would take care of Lenny. They were Lenny’s favorites on board.

But yeah, he did it, and he did it without thinking, and he guess that makes him a hero now.

He’s had a lot of time to think about it.

Sort of.

When the explosion happened, the Oculus – or whatever the Oculus was keeping in check – just gushed forth, and time went a little bit wonky after that.

The Oculus explosion is.

Literally.

As in, it’s the present moment.

Just, you know, forever.

There was a while there where Mick focused on the body horror of it all – his body trapped in a single moment, heart stopped between one beat and the next, and his mind still alive and ticking just as well as ever. His fingers are frozen on the Oculus device, the fire of the explosion surrounds him without ever reaching him – he was at the epicenter of the explosion, so he was the first one hit, frozen a second before he burned.

The Time Masters weren’t so lucky.

They’re going to burn forever.

Well deserved, in Mick's view.

He’s still stuck here, though. Kinda sucks.

At least he has a lot of pretty fire to look at and a brain that rather enjoys doing nothing but that, because he’s pretty sure incipient insanity is the next logical step here.

Mick’s only a few steps down that road when Lenny shows up.

At first he thinks that it’s a sign of him going nuts, imagining a big, fat, waddling dragon plunking along the entranceway to the Oculus chamber, ducking under the frozen flames with a sour look that only Lenny could ever do quite right on his face.

Mick would ask him what the hell, but he can’t move his mouth.

He’s still about 90-95% sure it’s a hallucination when Lenny gets right up close to him and pins his boot with his teeth.

Mick feels that.

Still can’t say “ouch” but he thinks it.

Then he thinks “what the hell”, followed shortly by “wait this is real?!” and “how the hell did you even get here you little fink.”

Len tugs.

Mick’s leg doesn’t move.

Len grows, then tugs again.

Mick’s foot jerks a little, right under Len’s mouth, but nowhere else.

Len licks Mick’s boot, mouthing at it all over, then tries to tug again.

This time, Mick’s foot moves.

Mick’s torn between jubilant ecstatic joy at the thought of a rescue and the realization that his very near-term future involved a lot of dragon drool.

It does.

“Was that necessary?” Mick complains once Len’s gotten the majority of his body down on the ground and has spent an unnecessarily long time licking at his face.

“Dragons aren’t really immune to time, just our scales are,” Len says. “Some small ground-up part of that gets into our saliva. Your alternatives are that I eat you or kill myself and drape my scales around you.”

“…lick away.”

“I thought you’d say that,” Len says. “Now hold still, if it dries, you’ll just get frozen again.”

Mick grumbles.

It takes what feels like but definitely isn’t forever to get out of the Oculus chamber.

“Now what?” Mick asks, looking around the frozen destruction of the Vanishing Point. The further out from the Oculus, the longer it took for things to freeze, so the aftereffects of the gigantic bomb are definitely in the air. He might be the only person ever to get a slow-motion showing of what a nuclear bomb explosion looks like from the inside of the epicenter.

“Now we go home,” Len says, waddling pointedly away.

“You know I can’t breathe in space, right?” Mick inquires, trailing after him. “And neither can you, as far as I know.”

“There’s a time pocket,” Len says. “It’s a bit small – you’ll have to crawl – but you’d better be damn pleased with it. I had to shed my whole winter coat to make it.”

“Poor Lenny,” Mick says, seeing where the shed dragon scales started to make a path that eventually led to what could only be described as a small burrow hole in existence. Like what you’d expect from a rabbit or a mole, except, you know, in spacetime. “I didn’t know you guys were a burrowing species.”

“It’s vestigial.”

“Lucky for me it’s not that vestigial.”

They crawl out into…

“This is my apartment, Lenny,” Mick says.

“I thought you’d appreciate a touch of home,” Len sniffs.

“This is my first apartment, Lenny,” Mick says, crossing his arms. “The very first one.”

Lenny looks shifty.

“Exactly what were you doing when we first met?”

“Nothing! Lounging! You know how dragons like to do that!”

“Sell that to someone who doesn’t know you,” Mick says. “Well?”

“What makes you think I was doing something?!”

“The fact that this is clearly a burrow you’ve used before,” Mick says, and waits.

Len crumbles like his favorite type of coffee cake.

“…I was stealing forks off of the Titanic.”

“Of course you were,” Mick sighs. “Why?”

“They were pointy. I dunno, I had a sudden craving.”

“Dragons,” Mick says, and goes to take a shower.

#my fic #dragonweek2017 #dccoldwave #mick rory #leonard snart #legends team #dc's legends of tomorrow

[shortcakezzzz]

YALLLL NOO WAYYY I LIVE IN THE UPSIDE DOWN (i live in australia and apparently they call it "the upside down country" or smth 😕)

#stranger things #clarissa needs therapy please help her #byler #<target audience 🤓

[shortcakezzzz]

i swear everytime i open this app i get so overwhelmed i get out then come back just for it to repeat

#byler #clarissa needs therapy please help her

[shortcakezzzz]

goodnight i saw a melvin tweet saying that mike and el have a healthy and cute relationship

#byler #clarissa needs therapy please help her #mike wheeler #will byers

[shortcakezzzz]

fry me and turn me into those mozzarella sticks

#clarissa needs therapy please help her

[shortcakezzzz]

"haters will be haters"

BITCH YOU CALLED US(ahem, your fans who supports palestine) TERRORISTS HOW ARE WE NOT SUPPOSED TO HATE ON YOU?? 😞

#noah schnapp #free palestine #byler #< target audience #idk #clarissa needs therapy please help her #USED TO BE FANS #errrr not anymore #not such a big fan #i cant make fan noises im sorry

[shortcakezzzz]

when i think of it its crazy that the fact i was fine with noah just a few months ago

#free palestine #noah schnapp #clarissa needs therapy please help her #?

[shortcakezzzz]

hey look if I'm being completely honest I wasn't expecting Will to be gay. MIKE HAD ALWAYS BEEN MY SUSPECT EVER SINCE SEASON TWO AND HE'S NOT CANONICALLY OUT YET?? DJSIAISJJSSUUWUSJS ITS CRAZY

#byler #am i losing my mind #yes or yes #mike wheeler #will byers #clarissa needs therapy please help her