#fuck houndstooth so hard for this shit

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

SHES RIGHT AND SHE SHOULD SAY IT

[seancamerons]

Janny + 15

Prompt number 15 for Jay and Manny is:

I get it! You’re jealous!”

“No, I’m not. I’m just… protective. And maybe a little needy.”

---

It was December and Jay and Manny are celebrating the holidays by getting themselves a Christmas tree from a small farm about an hour away.

So They drove a few hours out of their way on a Saturday from Christmas, late but when they arrived there were plentiful. She was on a sweeps slash holiday hiatus with work, she works a current sitcom where she plays a young twenty something even now at almost mid 30s, but she looks young not to mention she's expecting and only a few weeks along with Jay. They married a few months ago in an intimate gathering with friends and family, a lowkey but a formal celebration at a newrby vineyard not far from the film studio, in fact it was an abandoned set where the planners and Manny got to work. They're happy, and it was inexpensive.

As she turned the corner seeing a tree she like and turned to tell Jay she managed to see Mick, her former drama teacher at Smith Dale whom she dated. Jay had alot of choice words in regards to him and Manny didn't want him to start anything or for Mick himself to see her.

He was with his what she could assume is his wife. She ran into him in her large houndstooth peacock, and avoided eye contact feigning ignorance, “I should really learn to watch where I'm going. I'm looking for my husband.”

“Miss Manny Santos, my my this is a sight, you're positively glowing.”

Embarrassed and somehow charmed, “I'm almost six weeks pregnant.” She wanted an out she wasn't sure what Jay would do as he was precooked in an enclosure with other odds and ends. “I just wanted to say that, now you're jn front of me you didn't treat me the best. “

“I know, and I just Wanted to tell you, I'm truly sorry.”

She wasn’t moved, “You just have no idea how defective you made me feel at every turn, you made me hate myself for the entire time we were doing whatever it was we were doing.”

“It wasn’t my intention, all I wanted was for you to succeed, you might not believe it, I loved you.”

“Mick, I moved on.”

“I can see that. I'm telling the truth, i hope you can findthelove you once had for me.”

“You're doing it now. I almost believed you, why is it important you're late. I have to find Jay.”

“Jay? He's a lucky guy.”

“Right because he's nothing like you. He was different when I initally knew him, and i did fall for him unconventionally, but he just wants the best for me. I don’t have to change for him. I can be myself, you always tried to cage me, force me into some category of acting antiquated, you know I tried so hard, to work so hard to please you and it just was never enough, I spent more time finding things wrong with me, crying, struggling, you broke my heart and spirit and I lost myself trying to live up to your fucking unrealistic expectations. I was a young girl, you used my willingness and weaknesses to hinder me, I will never forget that nor will I let it happen again.”

“Didn't you want to succeed? I was your professor, I'm a professional! I wont let you shit on me, Manuella.”

“Well, it was a bit more than that, if I remember correctly.”

“Why are you unloading shit to make me feel things, I was hard on you, because you have potential. You've done good work since, maybe not on stage but on television and films. I like to think you took some of what I said to motivate you.”

“I guess. I guess theres something I took to keep. Look I got to find Jay, I've been dawdling too long.”

“Happy holidays, Manuella.”

Manny walked past and took to find Jay admiring a tree, “where were you?”

“Remember when I was I'm college? I ran into the professor that challenged my sanity for a time.”

His mood and demeanor shifted, he seemed angry or annoyed, he grumbled, “What did he have to say?” He asked flatly.

“He was sorry. He said he was too hard on me. He also made it seem like he just wanted me to succeed when it was more than that. “

“Damn right, it was more than that.”

“Jay. Cmon I don't know why you're getting bent out of shape.”

“Because of how he treated you, where is he?”

“No don't say anything, I handled it he's not going to bother you.”

“Look I get it, you're jealous, we had a past.”

“That ain't it. No I'm just productive, and a little needy.”

“Needy how?”

“I need to know you don't still care about that arrogant prick.”

“Look at me,” She put out herbhand ,”I'm wearing your ring and caring for carrying this baby inside me for you and I, and you're someone I want a future with.”

“You're right, that counts but he was a big part of like your past like I just, I don't knkw.” He showed a vulnerable side of him, “I don't like that he got to you the way he did. He hurt you, and I don't know what you saw in that curly haired pretentious fuck.”

“Quiet, he'll hear you and, I love you, just you. Mick like he who shall not be named because it's taken me many years to finally find my prince, and my peace far away from those guys. I'm so fortunate, I know it. Did I mention I love you?”

“Of course and you know I love you too, Manny no matter how coocoo bananas you drive me, I just know he loved you in his own fucked up way and charmed you once, am I really jealous or merely protecting ylu.”

“I'm a grown ass woman.” She replied beaming, “I can take care of myself, but I'd be miserable and sad without you, and Jayson Junior too to think about. “

“Whoa, wait. He's gonna be a boy?”

“Just like daddy. He's gonna be most likely the perfect Mashup of both of us.”

“A Heartbreaker naturally with your dimples and my wit, maybe your emotive eyes, maybe I can teach him how to be a mechanic. When he's grown he'll be just as heartfelt as you. I hope he doesn't have a troublesome nature like me, I don't want him to struggle like me, I want to be a gooddad, not someone who gets money thrown at them, but actually raised.”

“It's one of the many many reasons why I love you, what you just said, makes me feel like I found someone special. Until I saw Mick, I had forgotten all about him, just not the hurt part. It just reminds me of how I was, and who I'll never be again because I feel stronger. If not for you I'd still be following around that guy, viying for approval I'll never get because I'll never know. You love me for all of me, and he just wanted a piece of young talent, a piece of ass.”

“You do have a cute one,” she glared but he saved with, “i get what you mean.

“Okay, well then, good to know. “

“Thank you for not getting mad, too mad.”

“Mad about what?” He knew better to say what she might be mad at in regards to their conversatio he instinctively shrugged his shoulder feighned ignorance. “Whatever, babe. You're welcome.” She turned to the tree he had been admiring prior to the conversation. “This is a nice one. Let's get it, put it in the car and get out of here. My feet are swelling up.” She softly beamed enticing him to pick it up keep it moving as they walked together to ring it up.

There they were met with the farmer at a table, he saw Manny and beamed, “Looks like you're about ready to pop, girl or boy?”

“A baby boy. “ Manny looked up at Jay proudly, their height difference amplified.

“I'll say I just, you know what? The tree is yours free of charge. Merry Christmas, it's yours.”

“But sir,” She kindly replied jay was speechless, “it's a bigger one. The firs had at least $75 dollar tags!”

“Nonsense you guys are up to your eyeballs preparing for the stork, it's the least we can do. Merry Christmas.”

“Wow, thanks.” Jay shook his hand, for a kind gesture, and they took the tree to the car. “Merry Christmas to you too.”

[ddaenggtan]

say you want passion (i think you found it) | M

you’re a tease. he’s tired of it.

pairing | shownu x fem!reader

wc | 6.5k

genre/warning | Covid doesnt exist sorry, big dick shownu, sweetheart shownu, dom shownu, sub reader, shownu is called hyunwoo in this, he also likes to be called daddy dont judge, sloppy blowjobs, but still, blowjobs, Shownu eats pussy like a CHAMP, Strength Kink, praise, degradation, degrading praise, this is HIGHLY specialized, you've been warned, deepthroating, DEEP deepthroating at that, nsfw pictures, aka shownu likes to remember it when he does a good job so he takes a picture bc it lasts longer uwu, talking with your mouth full (ill let u guess), doggystyle, teasing, brief nipple play, hickeys, begging, dumbification, rough sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, coming inside, gspot shenanigans, this is genuinely so unrealistic please do not think sex is like this ever in real life, i mean literally ever if you ever fuck someone and it's like this then they aren't real they're a fae or a god or some shit okay, aftercare, shownu uses 3-in-1 because He Does, Barely Edited by the grace of @personawife​‘s beta that she fit in when she could ilu, 

a/n | first n last shownu smut specifically bc its leilas birthday (@honiboyyoon​). u better enjoy this. (side note for anyone who isn’t into shownu smut, but is curious: there’s a namjoon version on ao3 that i’ll link here), but this took entirely too much effort and i did my damndest to fit as many things that ur into in this one fic as i possibly could. i hope this makes up for u probably never getting the vampire maknae line foursome i kept promising you sdfkldjsfasdf

The front door opens as you step out of the car, and you grin as your boyfriend appears in the frame. He grins at you and your best friend and you search his expression for a sign of anything other than his usual sweetness, but find none. You resist the urge to pout - you won’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Good luck!” Your best friend teases. You roll your eyes at her - she knows precisely what you envisioned upon arriving back to the quaint little house you call home with Hyunwoo. It’s the reason you wore this outfit, and tried on the clothes you did whilst shopping, and sent him selfies in the poses you did. 

You’re on a mission, dammit. It’s been weeks - literal weeks, not even an exaggeration - since you were properly fucked, and you’re fairly tired of prancing around the house in your shortest shorts and deepest v-necks so that when you bend over just right to water your fern, he gets the perfect eyeful. It’s exhausting to try to send all these signals all day every day - but you know how flustered he gets when you ask him directly, so you tried a different tactic. You were being nice!

And it hasn’t worked. At all. He’s offered to help you water your plants, to let you borrow his flannel pajamas in case you’re cold, and even to buy you a sweater, at one point. 

In August. 

So suffice to say, you’re getting a little tired of him being oblivious. So you’d called up your best friend and invited her to go shopping with you, and yes, it was also very fun to hang out with her and get boba, but she’s also the master of hyping you up and making you feel sexy and desirable, so it was truly a win-win.

Plus, she color-coordinated her own houndstooth pantsuit with your pink houndstooth skirt/blazer combo, so really, you should send her a fruit basket or something. Maybe cookies. 

The point remains that your boyfriend hasn’t responded to any of your borderline pornographic selfies or the very pointed videos of you holding various sex toys and asking if it would fit. You’re at your wit’s end, and you were really hoping that it would truly get through to him this time that you want nothing more than to be railed against the mattress so hard that you cry. 

You’re a simple girl, after all. 

But no! He’s got that sweet smile on his face as you carry your shopping bags in one hand and your purse in the other, carefully sidestepping the cosmos he’d just planted the other day so you wouldn’t step all over his hard work. His smile widens when you reach the door, and he presses a sweet, gentle kiss against your forehead that has you on the verge of tears. 

He waves again to your best friend as she drives off, and as usual snags your shopping bags out of your hand so he can place them beside the door. You’ve already pulled your blazer off to hang in the entryway closet by the time he’s shut the door, and you gasp as you’re jerked back. His hands are on either side of your head, braced against the front door like it’s the only thing keeping him up, and you struggle to focus on anything that isn’t the way his muscles flex.

“Do you have any idea what today was like for me?” He growls. The sound of it brings heat between your thighs, and you resist the urge to cheer. 

“Sorry, should I not have sent you any selfies today?” You ask, keeping your voice as light and innocent as you can. He makes eye contact with you; there’s a fire in his eyes you haven’t seen in what feels like forever. “Did you not like them?”

“You know damn well what I thought of them,” he mutters, one hand coming down to rest on your hip. “I’ve tried so hard lately, y’know? The tiny shorts with your ass hanging out, the shirts that show everything when you bend over. God, the bending.”

“Really?” You breathe. It’s always exhilarating to know that you’re desired, but this is nearly heady. He fixes his gaze on you, eyes burning, and your smile softens slightly. 

“I was trying,” he says, clearly holding himself back, “To be a good boyfriend. To make sure that you know that I want more from you than just sex, and that I value you as more than just someone attractive. I was trying so hard to prove that you– that we have more between us than that. That I respect you more than that.”

“So don’t respect me.” You say it like it’s obvious, because it is. You’ve been laying down signals galore the past few weeks, and clearly he did not get the memo. 

“I’m always going to respect you,” he says instead, sighing slightly as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to disrespect you, you’re worth more than that. But fuck, all I wanna do is fuck you stupid right now.”

“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip. It’s all you’ve wanted for weeks and now you might finally - finally - get it. “Disrespect me, daddy.”

The hand on your hip tightens, no doubt bruising the skin, and you gasp at the feeling. Hyunwoo makes eye contact - just long enough to make sure that you’re on board for whatever it is he’s about to do. 

He could probably suggest a number of things that you’ve never considered and you’d say yes, at this point - you’re not ashamed to admit that you’re desperate. 

The hand on your hips lowers - he traces all the way down your thigh and to the back of your knee before travelling back up, this time under your skirt. He kisses you as he does it - long, heated kisses that make your head spin so perfectly that you don’t know what he’s doing until he glides a finger across your clothed core. 

You gasp into the kiss, but it doesn’t deter him. He pulls down, kissing and biting down your jaw to your neck as his fingers trace over you once more. You can feel him smile against your skin. 

“You’re already soaked,” he tuts. “You’ve ruined this pair, princess. How naughty of you. Would you like daddy to take them off?”

“Yes!” You moan as his fingers ghost over your folds once more. 

“Yes what?” He asks, and you could cry with how much you want him. 

“Yes, daddy,” you tell him, and he smiles once more. It’s blinding, how bright he is when he smiles like that, and for a second you’re breathless. Then you feel them - his hands, burning a trail along your thigh to tug at the band of your underwear. It only takes him a few seconds to pull them down as he bends, and he kisses your thigh as he brings one of your legs up so he can slide them off completely. 

He was right - they are ruined, the evidence of your arousal immediately apparent by the large wet spot in the center. He doesn’t bother to slide them off your other leg, though - just lets them hang from your ankle, no doubt as a reminder of how strongly he affects you.

He presses kisses to every bit of skin he can as he stands fully upright once more, suckling a mark into your collarbone that you’ll absolutely cherish when you have to cover it up before work tomorrow. 

His hands don’t leave your thighs - warm and strong and utterly distracting, you can’t take your mind off them as he kisses you again, heady and intoxicating. You feel it as one hand travels back underneath your skirt again, gliding between your thighs. 

A moan sticks in your throat as his fingers slide in between your folds - the feeling of them teasing against your hole before they move to rub light circles into your clit is nearly too much to handle. 

“Hyunwoo, please–”

“Patience,” he interrupts. You can hear the smile in his voice as he slides over your hole once more, spreading your arousal across your lips before teasing your clit again. “Good girls have patience, right, princess?”

You whimper, hips arching off the door to try to guide his finger inside of you. It’s a futile attempt - he just returns to the slow, infuriating circles on your clit, and you would cry if it didn’t feel as good as it does. 

It could be hours or it could be seconds that he continues this pattern - slow, maddening circles on your clit, then the slightest bit of a tease at your hole, just enough to make you think that maybe he’ll fuck you with his fingers, before he returns to the circles. It’s enough to make a stronger woman cry, and you can’t help the whines that you let out when he once again deprives you of the fuck you so desperately want. 

“Please just fuck me,” you finally break, hands moving from where they’re wrapped around his neck to circle his waist and do your best to pull him in closer. You can feel him against your thigh, warm and thick and big, and you want him. 

He hisses when you grind against him, and the one hand that remains on your hip tightens ever so slightly. “You’re being very bad, princess,” he chastises, but you couldn’t care less. Your mind is focused on the memory of what he felt like inside you, and you’re ready to burst with need.

“I don’t care,” you tell him firmly, hands sliding up under his shirt to run your nails against his muscled torso. “I don’t care, I need you, please, I just want–”

“I know,” he cuts you off. His hands disappear from you entirely, but only for a moment - before you know it, two large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding yours out of his shirt. You can't stop whimpering, caught between the memory of the last time he was between your thighs and the reality of his lips against your skin.

Hyunwoo drops - he hits the wooden floor with a muffled thud, and before you can even react, his hands are underneath your skirt. He pushes it upwards, muttering something almost reverent about thighs as he does, and then he’s pressing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs. His hands don’t stop, though - they keep going, shoving your skirt up until it pools around your waist.

“H-Hyunwoo—”

“Ssh,” he whispers, giving your thigh a light bite. A heartbeat later and you can feel his warm breath against your folds. “You wanted to feel good, right?”

“Yes, please,” you breathe, hands instinctively tangling in his soft brown hair. 

“Then be a good slut for me, and stay still while I make you feel good." 

You stifle a whimper - he knows what his words do to you, and you jolt as his tongue gently nudges against your folds. There's no stopping the soft sigh that falls from your lips as he delves deeper, ghosting across your swollen clit to nudge against your hole. He's tentative, teasing with his movements - he likes to make you wait, tease you until you're grinding against his mouth.

You doubt this will be an exception.

A moan is thrust out of you as you feel your hole stretch slightly. Not much, not far - just enough to accommodate him as he fucks your hole with his tongue. It's just the right side of unsatisfying - you're aching, absolutely dripping for him, and this is just enough to whet your appetite and make you hungry for more.

You can feel his smile against you, and you already know what's coming - still, it's disappointing when he pulls his tongue out. You whine, unashamed of how you must sound or how loud you may be, and he chuckles.

"Patience, baby girl," he breathes. Warm air flows over you, and your hands move to tangle in his hair. His tongue shifts again, lapping at your clit for long enough that you think you may cum before he stops to draw mind-numbing circles around it instead.

Time bends around the two of you - it always does when he's between your thighs like this, when he's teasing and deliberate with every swipe of his tongue against you, every press of him against your hole. He edges you for so long; slow circles around your clit turn to quick thrusts inside of you that shift into laps against your hole that drag upward, just barely catching your clit before they stop.

You're sure there would be a puddle on the floor were it not for his dedication. The entire house is filled with the sounds of his mouth against you, only drowned out by the sound of your cries as he begins to suck on your clit.

Your knees quake on either side of his head, and he doesn't hesitate to bring his hands up behind your thighs. Without a second thought, he lifts - not even pausing in his mission, tongue still thrusting into you at an almost absurd rate - and then your thighs are resting atop his shoulders. You gasp, both in shock and in pleasure as he lets his teeth graze ever so lightly against that bundle of nerves.

This isn't the first time he's done this - put you on his shoulders and left you there while he eats you out within an inch of your life - but it's the first time in a long time, and it has you seeing stars as one of your hands stays tangled in his hair and the other is braced against the wall beside you.

"Hyunwoo, please–" You beg, but you can't catch your breath long enough between moans to say anything more. He sucks again, the flat of his tongue gliding over your clit as it's pulled into his mouth once more, and your vision goes white. Your knees quake, and you're sure that if you had been standing, you wouldn't be anymore.

"That's my girl," Hyunwoo praises after he's done cleaning up your cum. When you can see again, you realize he's set you down on the floor and is slowly massaging your thighs.

"Hyun, I....please....can you–"

"You want me to fuck you stupid, baby?" He asks. His tone is a little patronizing, but that's okay, because it only serves to turn you on more. "Does my sweet little whore need my cock in her?"

"Yes, please," you whimper, hips tilting upwards against nothing of their own accord.

Hyunwoo stands and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his grey sweats. A few moments later he's pulled them down just enough to free himself. Your mouth drops open slightly when you finally lay eyes on him - you know he's big. You know that he is big, you've had his entire length inside of you several times now and you've felt it for days after each time, but it still never fails to shock you.

Because he is big. Thick, so thick you can hardly wrap your entire fist around him, and long, with the perfect curve that hits that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. His dick is nearly as perfect as he is, and that is a very high bar.

It's also so hard that you can see it throbbing, jumping every so often as his muscles tense.

"You want me to make you come with my cock, right, baby?" He asks, once again using that patronizing tone that makes heat creep across your cheeks.

You nod.

"Then you're going to have to ask nicely, aren't you?" He prods.

"Please, daddy," you say without hesitation, "Please fuck me, I want you to make me cum so hard that I cry, I want to be a good slut for you."

"Very good, baby," he praises. "Now I want you to prove that you mean it. Can you be a good little whore and suck my cock?"

You lean forward, not even bothering to use your hands because your bones still feel like jelly. You run your tongue across the tip of him, giving small kitten licks to the slit just how he likes. A groan rumbles through him, and he lets out a soft gasp as you slip your tongue down to wet the shaft as well. 

"Fuck, princess," he moans, "I think you've gotten even better at this."

Encouraged, you let your mouth hang open– just barely wide enough to get your lips around the shaft– and let your tongue rest on your spit-slick lips. You glance up long enough to see that Hyunwoo's eyes are blown wide with his desire before you mouth sloppily down his dick. It's messy and would probably be disgusting if it were anyone but the two of you and Hyunwoo didn't have that look in his eyes that promises you'll remember tonight for several weeks. 

His hands move, one adjusting his grip on the doorframe as you suck the head of his cock between your lips while the other comes down to grip one of the two buns you put your hair in that morning. He tugs - not hard, not yet, but firmly enough that it stings slightly and makes you keen.

"If you're going to make a mess, don't you think you should clean it up?" He asks. You lift a brow and he grins. "Clearly you're not that tired if you still have an attitude."

"No," you whine, "I am tired, my bones are basically nonexistent right now thanks to you."

The hand in your hair loosens slightly, and Hyunwoo tuts. "I have to do all the work, huh? Then get on your knees for me, baby girl, so I can use you like a good toy." 

You rush to comply, and only wince a bit at the feeling of the cold floor against your knees. His hand stays where it is the entire time you're moving, but he waits until you're sitting still, legs folded under you and giving you that extra bit of height you'll need. 

"Let me know if it's too much," Hyunwoo commands, and you nod. His eyes darken, slightly, and he runs his thumb along your jaw. "What's the signal?"

"Two taps on your thigh," You tell him, not for the first time. He's always so careful beforehand, and while you appreciate just how much he cares about you, you also are sick of just staring at his cock, and your mouth is beginning to water. 

Hyunwoo coos slightly, and the hand in your hair shifts to guide rather than just anchor. "You're always so good for me," he mutters as he slides the tip past your lips. "Always such a good little slut." 

You don't stop the whimper that escapes your throat – he loves them, and you know it. Your mouth is lax, nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he sees fit, and there's the slightest twinge of complaint as your jaw begins to stretch. 

You ignore it, determined to get as much of him as possible this time. You've practiced for this, nearly every day, since the last time and you're not stopping until you beat your record. 

Hyunwoo sighs as he hits the back of your throat. "God, you're perfect," he mutters as he begins to slide back out. You let your jaw relax a bit as he does, and when just the tip rests on your tongue, you give it a small kiss, just because you can. 

Hyunwoo smiles, gaze softening for a split second. "Hands in position, baby girl," he reminds you, and you do as he says – one hand on back of each of his thighs, so you can tap out if you need to. 

Also so you can feel those incredible muscles flex as he starts shallow thrusts, rippling and tensing under your fingers. If your mouth weren't otherwise occupied, you'd bite them. 

Hyunwoo continues carefully, testing just how much of himself can fit before you start to gag on his length….and just how long you can choke before you really start to need air. 

He pulls back before you even need to tap out, always careful to keep an eye on you for any warning signs. He slides back in and waits until he hits the back of your throat again, pushing slightly further, and just as he's about to begin pulling back out, you look up at him with wide eyes.

You know you look like a mess; drool gathering on your lips because your mouth is too full to hold it, tears streaming down your cheeks from your attempts to stop gagging. Hyunwoo loves it when you look ruined like this, adores taking your perfectly crafted image and crumbling it to pieces in his hands. 

So it's no surprise when he lets out a low moan, or when he lets himself slip a little further down your throat. This is as far as he's ever gotten and you want him to know how good you are, how hard you've been practicing  with the toys underneath your bed. He slides out, precum dripping onto your tongue as he does, and you bat your lashes at him.

"Use me," you tell him. "Use me like the toy that I am for you, Daddy." Something darkens in his eyes and he doesn't hesitate to thrust  back in.

Your eyes water with the force of it and you don't stop the moan that escapes you as he slides deeper down your throat than he's ever been before. There's still a couple inches left before he'd be fully sheathed, but Hyunwoo doesn't even seem to notice as he pulls out just to thrust back in.

Neither of you are quiet — you can barely hear the wet squelch of your mouth. It's drowned out by the moans he draws from you, which in turn pull moans from him between the words he growls out.

"God, you're so perfect," he mutters as he fucks your throat with abandon. "The perfect angel slut, so good at getting throatfucked, just made for my cock no matter where it goes, huh? You're such a good whore, you're probably fucking soaked just from my dick in your mouth, aren't you?"

You whimper around him and he speeds up, relentless; he's not wrong either — you are soaked, can feel it between your thighs as your hips rock fruitlessly against empty air.

"Oh, look at you," Hyunwoo coos, "So desperate to be fucked while sucking me off. Maybe one day I'll get one of your buddies over here to fuck your throat while you ride my cock, since you're so desperate to get used like a good slut. But I don't even think that'll be enough, will it? Because they won't be me." He thrusts a little deeper, a little rougher, and you aren't sure if the noises you're making are as loud as they seem to you but either way, they only serve to egg him on. 

"No," Hyunwoo continues, "They won't be Daddy, will they? They won't be able to get this deep in your throat, won't be able to fuck you like this. And you know why? Because this is my hole." He punctuates the sentence with a sharp thrust and you squeeze the backs of his thighs to show your agreement. "You're my perfect slut. My good little whore. Isn't that right, baby girl?"

You squeeze the backs of his thighs again, but it isn't enough. He stills, still buried nearly to the hilt inside you, and cocks a brow.

"Well? Aren't you my perfect whore?" Your face flames, heat burning in your cheeks. Your jaw aches from being stretched for so long, there spit and precum dripping down your chin  and you can feel him throbbing in your throat. 

And Hyunwoo looks expectant. He wants to hear you agree with him, wants you to remind yourself of this fact.

You don't even blink when he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his sweats. You can't see what he does, but based on how he angles it and the shallow thrusts he gives without looking away from the screen, you can guess. 

"Aw, is my baby girl getting shy now?" He teases as you make eye contact with the lens and feel your face heat up. "Don't even worry about it, baby. I just wanna remember how fucking perfect you look right now forever. My perfect cocksucking slut."

You whimper, pussy clenching around nothing and you're overcome with a sudden need to feel him inside you.

"Are you gonna be a good slut now?" Hyunwoo continues, still recording. "Are you daddy's good slut?" You nod and can't stop the reflexive swallow as he goes even deeper. Hyunwoo groans at the feeling and you can see his grip on his phone tighten for a moment.

"Say it," he commands when his eyes open once more. "I want to hear you say it."

" 'm 'a'y's 'er'ec' 'ore," you moan. It doesn't even sound like words, at this point, but when you look back up at him with wide eyes. Hyunwoo looks proud.

"You absolutely are," he whispers. He hits a button and then pockets his phone again. He slides carefully out of your mouth and casually strokes his cock with one hand as he wipes spit from your face with the other. "I think you've been a perfect angel, baby girl, so you've earned your reward. Where would you like it?"

"Bed, please, Daddy." Your voice is hoarse and scratchy, but you don't care, and Hyunwoo doesn't seem to either as he pulls his sweats up and then bends. The world spins for a moment and then steadies, and you realize he's got you in his arms. Hyunwoo carries you like a princess towards the room you share, and tosses you on the bed without hesitation.

Your eyes widen as he starts to strip out of his clothes, and you can't deny that you enjoy the show. The torso of muscles all rippling, the golden skin all shining, the desire in his eyes. Then the sweats — they hit the ground with a thud and you idly hope his phone is alright before you remember there are more important things right now.

He is, unsurprisingly, still hard — almost painfully so, a deep swollen pink at the head and jumping every so often. The vein running up the underside is throbbing, and you can actually feel yourself get wetter with anticipation.

One knee rests on the mattress, then the other, and Hyunwoo is crawling towards you on his hands and knees, and you can see every muscle as it shifts and fuck you love this man.

"I love you," you tell him, not for the first time. He breaks for a second, a bright smile taking over his face.

"I love you," he replies, pressing a kiss to your thigh. "Can we take those clothes off now, baby, because as great as you look, you're even better naked."

Breath catches in your throat and you nod. Hyunwoo is almost reverent as his hands glide up your thighs and is exceedingly gentle as he slides down the zipper and then the skirt itself. He smiles again, almost shy, and you can't help but marvel at the fact that this is the same man who bad you gagging on his dick not five minutes ago.

He leans in and gently nudges your nose with his, but when you lean forward to kiss him, he backs away with a playful grin. His warm hand rests on your waist and he leans in again only to dart back when you try to kiss him — not far, though. He's still close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath mix with yours, but it's still infuriating. 

You pout at him, and his smile just grows. "What is it?" He asks, teasing. "What do you want?" His lips ghost over yours as he speaks and it nearly breaks you.

"You," You whine. "I want you."

"You have me." He leans forward then, capturing your lips with an intensity you haven't seen in a long time. His mouth moves against yours and it's firm, commanding, and absolutely intoxicating as he pulls back just to lightly bite your lips. It's not rough, not really, but it's fiery and exciting and everything you've wanted. 

He presses closer, nimble fingers undoing the buttons of your blouse in what seems like an instant. Warm hands cross your spine and then your bra is gone, too. His skin seems to meld to yours, hands moving everywhere as he lays you back. 

Your breath hitches when you feel him against your entrance and he smiles into the bruise he's sucking into your throat. 

"You're so fucking wet, baby," he breathes as his tip teases against your entrance. "You're always so wet for me, so ready to be fucked. Just a perfect fucking whore, huh?" He slides in then, but only a bit. Just like before, it's just barely enough for you to feel him stretching you out. Just a tease of what's to come.

"Hyunwoo," you whine. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he chuckles.

"What is it? You want more?" He slides in further, but just a centimeter. You whine again, pushing your hips up against his to try to push him deeper. You can feel yourself throbbing, aching, for him, and you're tired of being teased. You want to be full. 

You tell him as much, watching his pupils dilate with every word until there's hardly any iris left to be seen. 

"Is that so?" He mutters, almost to himself. "Well, your wish is my command." He slides in, slowly, but this time he doesn't stop. He just keeps going and going and going, until you can feel him at your cervix. It stings – you're stretched so far, and he's so deep inside – but you relish it. 

"Beautiful," Hyunwoo mutters as he begins to slide back out, inch by agonizing inch. You whimper as the tip nearly slides out, too, and your hips lift of their own accord. Hyunwoo takes the hint and pushes back in; he creates a rhythm, one so slow, so maddening, that you're on the verge of tears as you whine and whimper underneath him. 

He notices your frustration, pulls himself away from lazily mouthing at your nipples, and hums. 

"What's wrong, baby? You aren't satisfied yet?" He gives you that Boy-Next-Door grin that you know hides a demon behind it. "Are you going to ask nicely again? Tell me no one fills you up like I do and beg me to fuck you the way you want? You look so pretty when you beg."

Any other time, you wouldn't. You would at least hesitate, make him work a little harder for your pleas. But you're desperate and frustrated and have no shame, so you don't hesitate. 

"Please, Daddy," you beg, letting your legs fall open and arching your back so his eyes drop lower and lower. "Please, Daddy, no one can fill this pussy like you do, no one can fuck my holes like you. Pl–please," you moan as he slides entirely inside once more, "Please fuck me right, make me come on your cock, I wan– wanna be fucked stupid, want you to– to fuck me stupid, please, wanna be Daddy's perfect slut, pl– Ah!"

You can't help your surprised gasp as Hyunwoo flips you onto your stomach with a low growl.

Warmth drapes along your back as you rise up, palms splayed across the sheets and elbows locked to keep you upright; his skin is sweat-slick and heated against your own, and a shiver runs down your spine when he pauses to runs his teeth along the lobe of your ear. 

"You are the best part of my life," he announces.

Butterflies explode in your belly a split second before he slides out of you.

"And I'm gonna make you cum so hard that you'll never forget that fact."

"Hyunwo— Oh!"

He thrusts into you with enough force to toss you into the headboard, had he not planted one hand firmly on your hip and had the other curled around your breast to tease your nipple. 

"You like that?" Hyunwoo asks with a smile in his voice. He repeats the movement and you clench around him as you gasp out a moan.  It's all you can do to nod and he flicks your nipple in response. "Good."

He lifts up, both hands now holding you steady by an iron grip on your hips, and readjusts his legs so yours are spread slightly wider. Your arms are trembling but you pay them no mind. 

Until Hyunwoo thrusts forward, pulling back just as quickly only to bury himself again, a heartbeat later. His pace is absolutely merciless; the sound of skin hitting skin fills the room, mixing beautifully with the wet slide as he shoves back in and the rough, throat moans that he pulls from you. Your vision swims, and you can't concentrate on anything else as he gives you the fucking that's been haunting your dreams every night. 

He adjusts his grip, one hand moving to sit firmly on the small of your back and press you down just a bit. The angle shifts – not much, but enough that the next time he pounds into you, he thrusts right up against that spot that makes your toes curl. 

You cry out, vision going white as he hits it again, and again, and again, absolutely ruthless in his mission. Your muscles go weak, biceps twitching as they give out, and then you're face down in the mattress. Hyunwoo doesn't hesitate, just ghosts his palm down to rest between your shoulders and keep you in place. 

He might be talking – you certainly think you hear the low tones of his voice as he speaks to you, but you can't make out words. It's too much work, too many syllables, too much effort to try to work past the haze that blankets your mind. You can still feel him, pumping in and out of your gushing pussy — the stretch barely stings anymore, and he throbs inside of you.  Each thrust is still perfectly angled to hit that mind-numbing place that keeps you from doing anything more than screeching his name. 

He slows, immediately switching from speed to power as he manages to put even more force behind his hips. The hand in your back moves, as does the one on your hip and then you're rising.

A warm palm across your throat – not choking,  just keeping you in place while the other traces along your spread thigh. 

There are words – something your brain is too fried to make out, and then a rumble that vibrates through you. A laugh. His thrusts get a little faster as he fucks up into you, and you're dimly aware of his fingers slipping between your folds. 

Someone screams — no, not someone. You. You scream, something so loud and provocative that it can't even be called a moan anymore, as he begins to rub circles around your clit. Orgasms rock through you,  every part of your body going boneless even as you shake from the force of it. It's impossible to tell when it stops, if it stops – the aftershocks are strong and he still hasn't stopped fucking you, though he's slower and gentler now, letting you ride it out on his cock. 

"……perfect for me, " you hear him whisper as you're senses come back. "Absolutely perfect, an amazing fucking— just divine, you are."

"Hyun," you manage, and it's no shock that you sound absolutely wrecked.  "D– Daddy."

"I'm here, baby girl," he mutters, "What do you need?"

"You," You respond instantly. "Want you, wanna fee– feel it, want you to fill me, please, in– ah, inside, want you dripping ou–" You're cut off once more as your body heaves with yet another aftershock, clenching around his hard length again. 

"Whatever you want, baby," he promises. "Can you come once more for me, baby girl? Just one more time so we can come together?"

"Mm…." You pause, taking the best inventory you can as your muscles jolt again. You consider lying to him, or just omitting this, because you know he'll never stop reminding you of it, but decide against it. Instead, you quietly admit,  "I don't think I ever stopped."

"Oh, fuck," he breathes. Within moments, you can feel his thrusts turn more erratic, more frenzied, and then you're impossibly fuller even as something warm drips down the inside of your thigh. 

He's gentle as he lays you down on the bedspread, exceedingly so as he pulls his softening cock out of you. His weight disappears from the bed for a few minutes that seem to stretch into hours, and then the mattress dips, and his soft smile appears once more. 

"Here sweetheart, drink this." He hands you a familiar cup and when you take a sip, the water is cool and refreshing. Wet warmth, surprising but pleasant, glides along your inner thigh and you look down to see him cleaning you up. 

"Mm, this is quite possibly the perfect view," you tease, wagging your brows as you make a show of checking out his muscular arms. It makes him laugh, the soft one that's just for when you're being ridiculous. 

"Drunk your water, you menace," he commands as he continues to wipe. "You're gonna need to replenish your fluids, after all that." He looks pointedly towards the bed and you follow his gaze, face heating when your eyes land on the rather sizable wet spot staining the sheets. 

"Whoops?" You offer. When you look back at him, he only looks fond. 

"Don't even start, it was hot. Besides, they needed to be put in the wash anyway.  I'll start them after you get into the bath." He gives over you, taking kisses along every piece of skin he can until he reaches your lips. You can't help the way your breath catches – even after all this time, he manages to make you breathless over the smallest things.

He peppers kisses along your cheeks, and nose, and everywhere else until you're giggling and trying to turn away from him. Unfortunately, with his arms on either side of you, you're fairly well trapped, so you settle for fucking your head into his neck instead. 

You pause. Sniff again. Back up. He looks sheepish, like he already knows what you're going to say. 

"We were out of the fancy stuff—" He tries, but you don't let him. 

"You used that 3-in-1 shit again?" You demand. "Actual body wash isn't even fancy, it's what normal people use! That's it, you're coming into the bath with me after you start the laundry so that I can make sure you didn't use it in your hair, too."

He smiles again, though you have a sneaking suspicion that he's just humoring you when he nods and says, "Whatever you want."

[cannibal-witchh]

"I'm No Hero, Lady"

Reader(fem) x Carlos Oliveira

Written by cannibal_witchh

Contains: Violence, gore, vulgar language, some fluff

Notes: I previously wrote a fluff fanfic about Carlos snuggling the reader in bed during a storm. The reader had a nightmare about the past which was the incident in Racoon City. This is the scenario that occurred when the reader is saved by Carlos before the end up together.

The previous story:

The city was cast in flames, the fire resembled an angry ocean of embers, quickly devouring collapsing buildings and destroyed vehicles. The decaying humans once recognizable, slowly met the fate of existing as the undead, as putrefing skin consumed them. There were several minutes of sickening screams, gnashing of teeth, buildings crumbling, and the blazing of an angry sea of heat. And the following after that was stilled silence, painful, vacant, lifeless, and numbing. The air almost seemed heavy, ears desperate and clawing for a sound to be stirred.

Several hours had past since a violent rage of a deadly pandemic disturbed Racoon City. You had been locked away in your supervisor's office at the museum, alone and terrified. You possessed no expierence in defense, you were simply a staff member of the local museum. It wasn't until an unfamiliar face offered you help, it was an incredibly risky gamble to take, but it was either be supposedly 'saved' or stay under a desk in a poorly protected office for however long.

"Y/N, I'm gonna need you to stay close to me, there's too many of those freaks roaming around, and from the little knowledge disclosed they are very contagious. A bite, maybe a scratch, will cause a nasty infection.", Carlos informed as you nervously followed closely behind. He was leading you through the south wing of the museum where the dinosaur fossils were displayed. It was eerie, the entire large room completely in darkness, and Carlos' gun light being the only illumination you both had. " Relax, I took all these fuckers out already. You're safe, lady. " he looked over his shoulder at you and gave a warm grin. It was hard to find complete emotional relief but he certainly was charming. His shaggy dark hair brushing on his forehead and above his brown eyes, his olive muscular figure, and his scruffy beard. He definitely was handsome and unusually young to be working in this field. " How many of them were there?", you whispered, darting your eyes all around the room, examining for any movement or noise.

" Maybe twenty, there wasn't too many."

" What about how many survivors you and your team found?"

" Sadly, just fifteen. Either civilians refused help and barricaded themselves in. Or they were found too late and turned into one of those monsters."

" That's awful.", you felt the sting of reality flood through your body. Just fifteen. You continued pacing attentively behind him as he held his rifle close against his chest. "Walk carefully over here, this is where I had to clear a group of them out.", he muttered as you both managed to enter the corridor leaving the fossil room. There were adleast ten dead bodies scattered along the ground. Gore staining the white tiles, the stench of expiration filling the narrow hall, and decoral tarnished and destroyed everywhere. Discomposure deluged your body, you froze, standing idle, and quivering. It was an electric feeling of absolute fear that paralyzed you. You would have to maneuver around carcuses that could still possibly be alive, and you were not in proper attire to protect yourself at all from their attacks. You dressed in a tight grey houndstooth pencil skirt, and a silk mint collared blouse. Definitely not fit for an apocalypse. Carlos turned facing you, realizing you had stopped following him. His expression was serious for a few seconds, and a few times he would glance behind him confirming nothing was there. " C'mon, Y/N, we don't have much time." He beckoned

" I can't, I'm afraid."

"I cleared all this hallway, I promise. I won't let them hurt you.'

"I'm sorry Carlos. I'm too afraid...", you admitted with humiliation.

" Lady, ugh...don't hit me ok?", he playfully smiled and swung his rifle around his back. He plodded over to you and quietly scooped you up against his chest. He let out a awkward giggle and started to regain his balance with your weight. For someone who just witnessed this horrible pandemic, killed the undead, and did this independently he sure was calm. It was comforting, though. "Sorry, but I'm not leaving you behind nor am I wasting time.", he glanced over at you, making brief eye contact. His eyes were soft, it didn't display the slightest fear, and his hair swayed side to side above his gentle eyes. For someone roaming around in rubble, blood, and sweat, his aroma smelled wonderful. He smelled of spices and his own sweat. It was strange but he didn't smell too bad. Carlos coggled back ahead, carefully stepping over corpses, and just as he promised, they really were all dead. Occasionally, he would bounce you up to gain more security when holding you. You draped your arms tightly around his neck to stay supported. His breathing was slow and quiet against your face as he carried you closer and closer to the exit. " Do me a favor, please. Please watch my back.", he requested finally making it to the exit. The exit sign flickered red, static occasionally sparking from the sign, and shimmering down onto the ground. You looked over Carlos' shoulder and with your relief, nothing was there. No rustles and no movements. Carlos was struggling to open the door, he continued to press against the bar of the wide door a few times until he finally gave up. " Fuck!", he quietly shouted as he stepped back from the door. He took a few more steps back until he had a little space between the door and him. He lifted his foot up and kicked out the door. The door rattled loudly and swung wide open. " Thank God,", he sighed in relief as he transported you outside the museum.

"OK, ok, you can let me go. Sorry, for the trouble. ", you bashfully removed your arms from over his neck, and he slowly lowered you to your feet. "Didn't like being held, huh? I'm just kidding, let's keep going.", he teased as he began walking down the alongated museum alleyway. The two of you had finally made it out of the museum, and the alleyways seemed relatively tame. There wasn't too many corpses lurking down it. And the ones that did approach the two of you, Carlos would resolve with a knife to their skull and quickly they would collapse. He tried not to resolve issues with his gun unless it was when it was absolutely out of control. A few minutes of carefully walking down the backstreet, there was an abrupt crash of shattering glass behind you. It startled you and you immediately drew your eyes to the direction of the loud sound. " C-Carlos...", you stuttered backing away in terror. The virus effected animals too. A large dog had launched itself out of the window, snarling and foaming blood from between its teeth. He stood in an agressively pose, not removing its eyes on Carlos or you. " Try staying quiet, Y/N. We don't need to attract more attention."

"P-p....please shoot it..", your eyes watered on the verge of a break down.

The dog darted forward directly at you, something yanked at your wrist pulling you backwards. Carlos had grabbed you leading you both into a full on sprint. " I don't want to fire off in such a small space. I'm not sure if other freaks are around and they'll go towards the sound. We have to be careful." He quickly clarified, dragging you by the wrist to the very end of the alley. The dog continued racing towards the two of you, snarling and barking loudly. "Carlos!!!", the dog jumped forward at you, nearly biting your arm but a bullet dove forward directly into its skull. The dog flew backwards in a pained whimper. " Shit!", Carlos cursed in frustration, he moved his head around examining all directions. " Fuck, fuck, fuck...we gotta go!", he gripped your wrist and began to guide the both of you back towards the middle of the alley. The dead had be drawn to all the barking and the gun shot. Unfortunately, a group was forming on both ends of the alleyway, and blocking any escape. " Y/N, look! ", a broken fire escape ladder hung in the middle of the alley, it was the absolute only opportunity to escape. Carlos squated down, holding his hands together to give you a boost up to it. " Go, go, go, ", he chanted trying to sound as hopeful as he could. You hoped up and grabbed the ladder, with as much strength as you could gather, you began to pull yourself up. The swarm of creatures got closer and closer and you feared for Carlos' safety. Come on climb already! He jumped as high as he could, latching on to the ladder, and pulling himself quickly up. He let out multiple gasps of air in exhaustion and then gestured with his head to continue climbing all the way up. "Let's get all the way up, away from these fuck faces!", you both felt rattling from the fire escape with each step and climb you both took. You felt unsecure having your weight, Carlos', and his equipment. Within a few minutes of climbing up very high, you both managed to get to the roof of the building. Carlos immediately dropped his gun to the ground and laid on his back. For minutes, he laid there breathing heavily as if he ran a marathon. You walked a few feet away from him, dropping to the ground, and covering your face in your palms. So many emotions churned inside your mind, you were exhausted, terrified, confused, and livid. What was going on? Tears began collecting in your eyes, you failed to suppress the tense emotions clenching your chest, your body quivering in shock, and you began to fall apart in your own hands.

"What's wrong, Y/N? Are you hurt?", a large hand squeezed your shoulder.

" No..., I just, I dont know if I can take all this.", you sniffed continuing to conceal your face away from Carlos'. You felt his large arms wrap around you, pulling you close against him, and he rested his head against your's. " I get it. I'm scared shitless too. But you know what, we aren't doing so bad. We've survived this long."

" I only survived because you decided to be a hero and save me! I would've died on my own. I'm useless!", you cried, feeling tears escape between your finger tips. "Woah, no, you aren't useless. Its not like every other day a random pandemic hits and you get used to this stuff. I've never dealt with this shit before in my life. This is new. Everyone is just trying to survive, you made it on your own for hours with no help. Don't be so hard on yourself." Carlos brushed his large hands against your arms trying his best to calm you. He wasn't exactly great with words but you could tell he tried to make effort. You lowered your hands, revealing your tired red eyes, your face sticky and hot from crying. You felt embarrassed but it was just so difficult to keep it together. " We are almost out of here, chin up.", he grinned, squeezing you against him warmly. " T-Thank you, I'm so sorry you're putting up with my shit.", you glanced from the corner of your eyes at him, too embarrassed to completely turn over to show your reddened face. " Stop. Look at me.", you obeyed his request, although it was hard, you turned to face him. " This is what I'm here for. I want to help and I am happy to help you. Its a plus that you're a cute lady running around in a pencil skirt too. " He teased patting the top of your head, ruffling your hair and giving a light hearted giggle.

Unexpectedly, Carlos' walkie talkie beeped and static flooded through for a brief moment. " Carlos, where are you? Are you alive?"

"Tyrell, I'm alive, surprisingly. I'm up on a roof across Racoon City's museum with one survivor."

"Good! I hadn't heard from you for hours wanted to make sure you weren't having too much fun. So you only found one survivor?"

"Just one. I looked in several areas in the B territory but either the survivors were barricading themselves and uncooperative or turning."

" Shit, well, the boss man says we have to make this our last run. Things are getting bad and we are borderline at max capacity. Hurry up! I will stall."

There was a beep following static and it then it ended. " Looks, like we have to go. I have to take you to the exit we made. There will be a bus and they will take you far from this city to safety."

"What about you? You make it sound like you're not coming?"

"My commands remain. I have to stay."

You felt your cheeks buzz with heat, he was directed to remain?

****

Carlos and you had waited on the roof top for adleast half an hour. He had given Tyrell an update before the two of you finally climbed down the ladder. Luckily, all the zombies had migrated else where. The two of you quietly hurried, it took nearly another fourty minutes before you finally saw a buses gathered by an exit. It was filled with a civilians, and surrounded by military workers. You felt relief hit you, as you saw other evidence of survivors and humanity. You looked over at Carlos, he turned to face you completely, and he placed a hand on your shoulder. "It was a pleasure helping you.", he smiled, squeezing your shoulder as he walked you to the bus. A doctor on his team examined you for any signs of infections before you boarded, thankfully, you were ok. Thanks to Carlos. You entered the bus and turned around to properly depart from Racoon City, and to depart from your hero. " Thank you, Carlos. You really are a hero.", you smiled displaying truely appreciation. Carlos chuckled for a second and shook his head. " I'm no hero, lady. Hopefully, I see you around. Hopefully, still running around in a cute pencil skirt! ", he winked playfully, as blush scattered across his face and your's. Was he flirting with you? "Just try finding me at museum then. Well, thank you, Carlos. Really. Thank you.", you leaned forward and pecked his cheek.

"Until then."

The bus door closed, and you moved to your seat. You watched as the bus began to leave, your eyes fixed on Carlos, as your view grew smaller and smaller of the city and him. You hoped maybe one day you would see him again. You hoped your hero would survive this. You believed he would.

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 16

A/N: Sorry for the delay...but I think you’ll forgive me for the wait. 😏

December 18th - Part 1

DeeDee checked herself out in the mirror. She had on her favorite pantsuit and decided on a low slicked back chignon for her hair. She ran her hands down the suit jacket one last time and looked at her reflection.

“Today’s the day, DeeDee. We have worked so hard to get here and we deserve everything that is coming to our way.” She smiled and put her tortoise shell glasses on.  “I’m proud of you and everything you will go on to accomplish starting today.”

DeeDee heard her phone chime and buzz across her dresser. She walked over and picked it up. It was Phyllis in the group chat.

Phyll: Your presentation is at 4pm, right?

DeeDee: Yes

Phyll: The Engineering building?

DeeDee: Yup

Phyll: What room?

DeeDee: 1759

Phyll: We’ll see you there. 

DeeDee: Great, see you later.

Bev: We love you, DeeDee. 

DeeDee: Love you, too.

DeeDee made her way out to the living room and grabbed her purse and laptop case from next to her desk. She locked up and headed to campus to get settled in for a long day. 

---

Erik was cleaning up his desk. He came in early to send out the last of his work emails before he left for a week. He locked up his computer and stood up to leave when T’Challa walked in and stood near his desk. 

“Hey Cuz.”

“You leave today, right?”

“Yup, my flight leaves in 2 hours.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m excited to see Dr. Bell. She helped me work through a lot of shit while I was in school.”

“That is expected, but you know what I mean.” 

T’Challa took a seat in front of Erik’s desk. He pointed towards the chair across from him. Erik put his briefcase down and took a seat. 

“How are you feeling?”

Erik is quiet for a moment, deep in thought. “Ready.” 

“And you are sure?”

“You and Quis, I swear.” He rolled his eyes. “I get it. I messed up before. But at least, she showed her true self before I made a horrible decision.” 

“Erik, we ask because we care.” T’Challa sat forward in the chair, “You were in such a rush to find the one and get married. You never took the time to really get to know her.” 

“I know, I know.”

“You told her exactly what she needed to hear for her to act like the woman for you.” He put emphasis on act. “And she tried to trap you. So, yes we want to make sure that you know what the hell you are doing this time around.”

“I don’t need to be reminded of that fuck up.” He sighed, “Besides Quis said she is nothing like her. And I do know that for myself, too.”

“Marquis knows her?”

“Yeah, she is one of his doctoral students. Actually, hold on a sec.” He pulled out his phone. He went to a text thread, where his previous text was still unread.

Prince Erik: Good morning DeeDee. I hope you have a great day.

Prince Erik: Hey, you never did tell me how your presentation went. Let me know where we are celebrating.

Erik looked back at T’Challa, “Where was I? Right, DeeDee was one of his students.”

“Ok, and what do you know about her?” 

“I know that she is everything I am looking for. She’s smart, funny and sweet. She calls me on my crap. Even if she is super nice about it.”

T’Challa nodded his head, “And you are ready for her? 

“Yes, I am. And I know I deserve someone like her.” Erik smiled, “All the bullshit I went through in my last relationship, let me know I wasn’t ready back then. You’re right, I rushed and almost got in too deep with someone, who was all wrong for me.”

T’Challa looked at Erik, then touched his ring, “Does she know?” 

“Yeah, and doesn’t even care.” He smiled, “I’m telling you, T. She is it.”

“For your sake, I really hope she is.” 

He stood up and Erik followed. 

“I’ll be fine.” Erik looked at his watch, “I should get going. I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Until then, cousin.” T’Challa hugged him, and then Erik grabbed his things. They left his office together. 

---

DeeDee has watched three other defenses already. They were breaking for lunch before reconvening for the last two of the day. She made her way back to Dr. O’s office. He was letting her use it for the day. 

“Hey DeeDee, how you feeling?”

“Hi Dr. O. I’m ok.” She took a seat on the couch. “I am not feeling as nervous now, but I am definitely ready for it to be over.”

“I get it. I’m so sorry that you couldn’t go earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m hoping they chose to give me the last spot because they liked my topic best.”

“I like the way you think.”

“Thanks, Dr. O.” Her phone goes off, “Ooooh, let me go get my friends. I’ll be back in a bit.” 

“Sure thing. I’ll see you back in the main room.”

DeeDee checked her phone and went outside to meet with Beverly and Phyllis. She hadn’t seen or spoken to Phyllis, but she had chatted with Beverly since that disastrous night out.  

They ran up to her and gave her hugs. 

“I’m so sorry girl.” Phyllis said as they all stepped back.

“I don’t know what’s going on. But don’t take that out on me.” DeeDee finally spoke.

“I know, I know. I just -” 

“Men trouble.” Bev nodded towards Phyllis.

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Your new friend, Erik.”

“What about him?” DeeDee rolled her eyes, “You know what, we can discuss this later. It’s time for the next presentation to start.”

All three of them walked to the room and DeeDee led them to seats in the center on the left-hand side. She returned to her spot up front and sat down to wait for the next doctoral student to present.

---

Marquis’ cell rang while he sat in his office. 

“Hey E. What’s up man?”

“I’m back.” 

“Wait! You’re already here?”

“Yeah, I just made it to my hotel. Figured I would hit you up to see what you’re doing tonight.” 

“Just a simple dinner with the fam. But you are more than welcome to join us.” Marquis pulled his phone away and looked at the time, “What are you doing now?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Come visit me on campus.”

“Seriously?”

“You ain’t doing nothing and I have to be here, so yeah. Just bring ya ass.”

“Is your office in the Engineering building?”

“Yeah, I’m in 1590, at the end of the main hall.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in 30.”

“Great, text me if I’m not in my office when you arrive.”

---

DeeDee blinked and the presentation after their lunch break was over. She sighed and looked back at her friends. She didn’t bother to invite any members of her family. They would see her on Christmas and besides she wanted to concentrate on her presentation. It would not happen if she saw them in the audience, clapping and cheering before she could even talk. 

She went to them, “I gotta grab my things from Dr. O’s office. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Yeah, ok. I need to use the bathroom.” Phyllis said as she stood up. “Bev, you good here?”

“Actually, I’ll go with you, DeeDee.” 

Walking out of the room, DeeDee reminded Phyllis where the first floor bathroom was and they all split once they got to the hallway. 

---

Erik entered the building and stood at the top of the hallway. Not much had changed about the old building. He walked over to the directory and looked at the faculty names. He recognized a few of them and ran his hand over Dr. Bell’s name. It showed her office was across the hall from Marquis’. Great.

He started walking down the long hall, when a voice called out to him.

“Excuse me?”

The feminine voice caught his attention. He slowed to a stop.

“Yes, you. Are you lost?" He could hear the click clack of heels, “Maybe I can help you.”

He turned around to see a young woman in a suit approach him. 

“Oh no, I’m fine. But thank you.”

“You sure?” 

Erik watched as she looked him up and down. He gathered himself, “I’m positive, I’ve been here before.”

“Really? I’m here often and I would have remembered you.” Her voice dropped an octave.

“I bet you would.” He laughed, “Look, I really should be going. My friend is waiting for me in his office.” He looked behind her, “And it looks like someone is looking for you.”

She turned around and saw hands waving dramatically in the air. 

“Phyllis, hurry up. It’s gonna start soon.”

“Alright, I’m coming.” She turned back around to look at Erik, “I hope I get to see you again.”

He nodded at her and made his way down the hall. “Not if I can help it,” He mumbled.

Erik knocked on Marquis’ office door. He pitched his voice. “Excuse me, Dr. O.” 

“Why are you knocking? Come on in.”

He walked in and Marquis jumped up when he saw him.

“I thought. You know what -- nevermind.” He gave Erik a hug, “How you doing man?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” 

“You look it. Still living at the gym when you aren’t at work, I see.”

“I mean, you know. I never again want to look like the stick that shared an award with you.”

They both laughed.

“So, why are you still here on a Friday afternoon? You could be on your break already.”

“I will be. Immediately after this last doctoral defense presentation.”

Erik huffed and pulled out his phone. He hadn’t heard anything from DeeDee yet today. He shook his head and put it away.

“So, those were today?”

“Yup. There is one more and then we can go get drinks before I take you to see the family.”

“Yeah, sure that’s fine.”

Marquis locked up his office and they walked down the hall to the main room.

---

Erik sat in the back row out of the way, while Marquis walked to the front and gathered everyone’s attention. As he looked out ahead of him, he saw the girl from earlier seated on the opposite side from him. She was talking to her friend and kept looking back at him. 

“This cannot be good.” He returned his focus to Marquis up front.  

“Thank you all for being here all day today. We are ready to start our final defense presentation.” Marquis nodded to a young woman on his left who walked over and took the clicker from him.

When she turned around to address everyone, Erik gasped. It was her. He was looking at DeeDee. She pressed the clicker for her starting slide and began to speak.  

Erik took her in while she spoke. She definitely could not hide from him now. DeeDee was dressed in a burgundy and black houndstooth patterned pant suit with a burgundy blouse. It fit her very well, and he could make out her wide hips and the chest that prevented her from closing the blazer. He bit his lip to keep from making an inappropriate sound. Her dark curls were pulled back in a sleek low bun with loose tendrils hanging out. He hadn’t seen those glasses before, but the cat eye shape looked really cute on her. 

He tried to fully focus on what she was saying, but was glad that she asked him for advice a few weeks before. He would catch a word or two and know where she was. Erik continued his physical assessment of her while DeeDee’s presentation continued.

DeeDee was much shorter than he thought, but he loved the idea of her looking up at him or having to get on her tiptoes to kiss him. He smiled as her nose scrunched up while she spoke about environmental waste and how her study addressed it. He saw her infamous full cheeked smile when she answered questions from the panel and audience. 

When he was done getting his fill of her, he could hear the applause and she sat back down while the panel spoke amongst themselves.

He was so proud of her. She handled herself very well up there. And although he never expected to see her real presentation, he was happy to have been there. 

---

Everyone has walked to the front to congratulate DeeDee who was just told that she cleared her defense and that the panel was recommending the certification of her Ph.D.

DeeDee saw Beverly and Phyllis first. They both ran over to her, giving her hugs and praise. She smiled at her two friends.

“Thank you both for being here.”

“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, hun.” Beverly spoke up for them.

DeeDee pulled away from them and headed over to Dr. O. He was standing next to a man in a nice black suit, who was a few inches taller than him. She tapped Dr. O on the shoulder, he turned back, saw it was DeeDee and gave her a hug. She pulled away and noticed that the gentleman next to him was staring intently at her. 

When DeeDee looked over, she saw very familiar short dreads with a shadow fade, a neatly trimmed beard and the same dimples that she had been dreaming about recently. It can’t be.

“Erik?” She breathily asked.

“In the flesh.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“You know I came for Dr. Bell’s retirement party.” 

“Yeah, but I thought you would be here tomorrow or Sunday. But you are here. At my defense.” She stepped back to look up at him. 

“I am and it’s nice to meet you, Dr. Deidre Chabert.” He held his hands out.

She smiled brightly at him and walked forward into his arms. He engulfed her in a big hug. 

“Let me take you out to celebrate tonight.” Erik said into her ear. He looked over DeeDee’s head and saw the two women from earlier staring at them. 

“I would like that.” She mumbled into his chest.

“Good, go get your things.” 

She pulled out of his embrace and stared at her friends who were now behind her. DeeDee slid by them and went to get her things.

“So, how do you know DeeDee?” Beverly asked him cheerfully.

Phyllis just stared at him, arms crossed against her chest. DeeDee bounced back over to everyone with her bags.

“Hey guys, I want you to meet Erik.” 

“What? Mr. Note in the textbook? No way.”

“Guilty.” He replied.

“Do you mind if we get together to celebrate later this week or next weekend?”

“Sure sweetie.” Beverly spoke up. “Have fun, but not too much.”

“Yeah, we’ll see you later, Dee.” Phyllis gave her a half hug and stormed past her.

Beverly gave her a hug and walked out after Phyllis. 

“I have questions, but I’m gonna wait.” Dr. O turned to DeeDee, “You’re still coming over to go to the Christmas Festival with us tomorrow, right?”

“And miss an opportunity to see my favorite girl. Not a chance. Besides, I don’t think she will forgive me.”

“Great. Well, you two enjoy your evening.” Dr. O daps Erik, “I’ll see you tomorrow as well.”

“Definitely. Goodnight Quis.” 

Erik grabbed DeeDee’s things, “You want to leave your car here or drop it off at your place?”

“You can follow me home.”

He extended his arm as they walked out of the room, “Lead the way, Dr. DeeDee.”

“Don’t you start that mess.” She bumped him with her shoulder.

“Would you prefer Dr., Miss or Little?”

“Little?”

With his free hand, he grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers. “You are much smaller than me.”

“I bet you like that, don’t you?”

“You have no idea how much.” He squeezed her hand.

“Watch it, Mr. Erik.”

“Or what?”

“I don’t know yet, but you will find out.” She returned the squeeze.

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[nalgenewhore]

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Ress, Ress, wait,” Elide exclaimed, skittering to a stop as she tried to turn the corner. Her soft spoken bodyguard had been acting strangely ever since they had invited Fenrys to the palace. 

He reluctantly stopped, not meeting her eyes. “Hey, Elide.” Ress slunk away when she tried to touch his shoulder and she dropped her hand, a little pathetically. 

She tried to smile, tilting her head to the side, “I-I feel like no one’s seen you for ages, Ress. You know, if there’s ever something wrong, you can talk to me about it.” 

“Not about this,” he whispered. Ress looked down the hall, looking for a way to leave. 

Elide tried again, not ready to just let him leave, “Was it your boy?” She had a slight smile in her voice, trying to get a rise out of him or at least make him blush. His kind eyes hardened and she knew she had said the wrong thing. “Wait, Ress, please, I’m sorry- I-I didn’t mean to–” 

“Elide.” He said, his voice hard, brooking no room for argument. “I don’t want to talk about this and definitely,” he huffed a icy laugh, “definitely not with you, so please. Leave me alone.” Ress brushed by her without another word, walking quickly down the hall. 

Elide stood in shock, trying not to cry. After too long, she walked over to her old rooms, which they were fixing up for Fenrys. She nodded and tried to smile at the painters, whispering greetings to them. 

She sidled up to Lysandra, who was directing movers. “Hey.” 

Lysandra’s warm grin fell at Elide’s expression, “Hey, lovie. Wh-what’s wrong?” She ran a soothing hand down Elide’s back. 

“I think something happened with Ress and his boy and he- I think it’s my fault but I don’t know why,” Elide said, trying to not cry by tilting her face upwards. 

“How could it be your fault, El,” Lysandra asked, putting down her tablet. “He just wants a little space right now, I’m sure.” 

Elide nodded, not believing her friend in the slightest, but hoping she was right all the same. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan’s phone rang and he didn’t bother looking at the caller before he picked it up, “Hello?” 

“Lor, is that you, you fuckin’ bastard?”  

A lazy grin pulled at his lips and he sat back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk, “Marama.” 

Fenrys laughed brightly and Lorcan could almost see his friend’s shit-eating grin. “Heard you're trying to steal some poor girl’s throne, hmm? Seems fitting for Hellas’ spawn.” 

Lorcan rolled his eyes, “Yeah, and you’re the poor guy they called to slap a ring on her pretty lil’ finger.” 

“Ooh, she’s pretty?”  

Elide Lochan was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, but Lorcan kept that to himself. “She’s… nice to look at.” 

“Mmm, is that jealousy?” 

Lorcan felt something grow in his chest and he swallowed, some of his joking swagger leaving him, “Have at her, Fen. She’s feisty. I think you’ll like her.” 

Fenrys chuckled again, “Tell me again how many times she’s slapped you. It brings me such joy.”  

“Sadist,” Lorcan grumbled, rubbing his forehead. “And twice. The first was an accident.” 

“And the second?”  

His cheeks burned and he was grateful he was in his rooms with no one around, “I… uh, I might’ve called her ‘sweetheart’ or something.” 

“Hellas save you, man. You really are a fucking dumbass.” 

Lorcan rolled his eyes again, “I realise that, Fen. When’s your plane getting in, anyway?” 

The man on the end of the line hummed, “Mmm, in a couple days. Did you know I get a fancy room at the palace?”  

“Yeah, well, me too,” Lorcan shot back, smiling smugly. “You aren’t that special.” Fenrys just huffed and something crossed Lorcan’s mind, “Hey, weren’t you talking to some guy? What, ah, what are you doing about that?” 

“I ended it,” Fenrys said in a nonchalant voice. “He seemed fine with it, so no feelings were hurt, I guess.”

“And what about you? Are you fine with it?” 

“Couldn’t be more fine with it.” 

“Mmm, whatever you say, Fen.” 

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide ran down the hall, trying to go as quickly as possible. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered, trying not to tip over in her three-inch heels. She was running as fast as she could, but her strides were shortened by her tight, fitted houndstooth skirt and the matching coat she carried in her arms. 

She attempted to slow down when she turned the corner into the foyer, but ended up sliding and windmilling her arms. Elide crashed into Rowan, groaning softly, “Shit, sorry, Ro.” She shrugged her coat on, flipping her hair out from under the collar. “How do I look?” 

“Ravishing,” said a new voice, one she had never heard before. Elide spun, her eyes landing on a beautiful man. “If I may say so myself.” 

“You must be Fenrys,” she replied, her cheeks burning. She surveyed him from head to toe. He had cut off his dreads, his hair now bleached blonde and shaved close to his skull. It was styled in a meticulous, 360° wave pattern, which no doubt took years of mastering. 

Fenrys smiled, his cheek dimpling, and then he bowed, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Elide. I am humbled that you think someone like me could be your knight in shining armor.” 

Elide liked him immediately and laughed, holding out her hand for him to shake, “I am forever in your debt, good sir.” His hand was large and warm, his grip not too tight and not too loose. Perfect. “How was your trip from Doranelle?” 

“Oh, uneventful, I’d say. Lovely plane you’ve got,” he said, flashing her another grin. Fenrys’ dark eyes had a cheeky gleam in them that Elide instantly adored. 

“Oh, that old thing?” she asked flippantly. “That’s just something we have lying around.” Fenrys laughed, the sound warm and booming as it echoed through the hall. Elide smiled, turning back to Aelin and Rowan, who were in the midst of exchanging a secret glance. “Your Majesties, Fenrys Marama.” 

Fenrys bowed to Aelin, “My queen.” Aelin dipped her chin, sending a giddy grin to Elide. I like him, Elide mouthed as Fenrys and Rowan said their greetings. 

Elide looked around for Ress, wondering if her bodyguard was feeling better. In his place, another guard stood, looking much more intimidating and imposing than Ress ever did. She turned to Lysandra, whispering softly, “Where’s Ress?” 

“He’s taken some time off, not feeling well,” Lysandra murmured back. “Now, you and Fenrys are going to have a walk in the gardens. A photographer will be there, but just ignore them.” 

Elide nodded, turning back to Fenrys. The man smiled again, offering Elide his arm. She slipped her hand into his elbow and he said, “Shall we?” 

“We shall.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Three days later and Elide didn’t think she would ever tire of Fenrys’ company. He was hilarious and kind, his humour more bold and obvious than Elide’s, but they paired well together. 

She had learned that his favourite colour was yellow, his birthday was exactly two months after hers - August twelfth - his favourite sport was soccer and he had gone to the University of Varese on a soccer scholarship. Though his degree was in political science, and he planned to become a lawyer, Fenrys had an aptitude for photography and carried his camera almost everywhere with him. 

His older brother, Connall, was quieter than him, the dark side of the same coin. They had grown up in Doranelle their whole lives. Fenrys said he was grateful that he was the spare, because it gave him the freedom to explore the world as he had always itched to do. 

“Ellie,” he called, beckoning her over to where he was bent over a flower bush. 

Elide walked over to him, leaning down next to him, “What is it?” 

“A butterfly,” he said, lifting his camera to snap a picture. It was as if the soft click of the frame had bothered the delicate creature and it took off, fluttering in the air to a new perch. Fenrys pouted, sad that his new friend left so soon. 

Elide chuckled, “Don’t worry, sweetie-pie.” That was a new thing they had started the other day. Elide called him ‘sweetie-pie’ and in return, Fenrys had dubbed her ‘honeybunch’. It annoyed everyone around them, these overly affectionate names, and the pair thrived off everyone’s irritation. 

Fenrys laughed softly and stood up, slinging his arm around her shoulders, “You hungry? I think it’s time for lunch.” 

She smiled, wrapping her arm around his waist, “You always think it’s time for…” Elide trailed off as a certain someone walked into the garden, a book in his hands. Immediately, she scowled. 

“Honeybunch, are you alright?” 

Elide nodded, still frowning as Lorcan sat down on a bench and opened his book. He must’ve noticed her staring and looked up, flashing her a cocky grin that she wanted to slap off his perfect, beautiful face. “‘m fine,” she muttered, balling her free hand into a fist. 

Fenrys looked up, following her eyeline to Lorcan, who he faked a confused frown at, deciding it would be best if Elide didn’t know their connection. “Who’s that?” 

“Hellas incarnate,” she said, tugging Fenrys along to the castle. “He’s the other heir. I hate him.” 

Fenrys nodded thoughtfully, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly, “Don’t worry, he won’t succeed. That’s why I’m here.” 

“Ah, yes, my knight in shining armor,” Elide said in a simpering tone, batting her eyelashes. 

Her friend rolled his eyes, bumping her with his hip, “Shut up, stupid.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

My dearest honeybunch, snookums, Elide, Meet me in the garden, at dawn, should you dare Forever and truly, Your most beloved sweetie-pie 

Elide snorted at the note in her hand once more, shaking her head as she walked down the stairs. The whole proposal was planned out and still, Fenrys had used every loophole that he could to make it feel like it wasn’t just a business deal. 

She wore a pretty pink midi skirt and an oversized, cream-coloured sweater. On her feet she had on another pair of rounded-toe pumps, cream to match her top. Her hair was curled and loosely falling down her back, two sections pinned in the back to pull her hair away from her face. 

Nerves fluttered in her stomach as she walked out into the garden, spotting Fenrys sitting beneath a lilac tree. He stood up when he saw her, smiling broadly, “Good morning, Elide.” 

“Good morning, Fenrys,” she said, rolling her eyes when he took her hand and bent to kiss her knuckles. “Will you tell me why you’ve summoned me out here?” 

“Let us sit,” he told her, motioning her to the stone bench he had been resting upon. 

Elide sat, her hands folded in her lap. Fenrys joined her, his knee knocking into hers. She knew the paparazzi and the press were peeking through the garden fence and gate, their cameras flashing as they snapped a flurry of shots. “Over the past week,” Fenrys started, reaching over to hold her hands in his, “I have had the absolute pleasure of getting to know you and I have fallen desperately in love with your entire being.” 

Elide bit her lip to stop from laughing, nodding serenely, “Of course.” 

Fenrys’ eyes held a warning light, telling her if she laughed, he would laugh too. “And I can’t imagine the rest of my life without you so I ask thee,” he slid off the bench, smoothly pulling a velvet box from his pocket as he kneeled and flipped the lid open, “if you would do me the greatest honour in life and become my wife. Elide Amara Lochan, will you marry me?” 

She lifted her hand to her throat, the tears in her eyes forming in an effort to keep from snorting and ruining it all, “Oh, sweetie-pie. Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes!” Fenrys grinned wickedly and slid the ring onto her finger. 

Elide flung her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Fen,” she whispered, eyeing the diamond ring on her finger. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her with him as he stood up. 

For some reason, the sinking feeling in her gut didn’t dissipate and Elide had to hold back tears of grief. 

Everything is fine, she told herself, you’re happy. The happiest you’ve ever been.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“I believe congratulations are in order,” Lorcan drawled as Elide walked into the library. 

She froze and turned, glaring at him. “Thank you,” she said tightly, her back straight. “I’m very happy with him.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” he replied, smirking at her before returning to his book. He could tell she hadn’t moved and looked up again, “Is there something I can help you with, sweetheart?” Her cheeks reddened as her eyes flashed dangerously. 

Lorcan idly thought he should be scared of her, but he wasn’t in the slightest. He ran his eyes down her body, stifling the urge to reach out and wrap her up in his arms. She looked so soft in her black leggings and slouchy grey cashmere sweater that slipped down one arm. 

“I am,” Elide insisted, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her stack of books. “I am very happy with Fenrys. We’re in love.” 

Lorcan snorted, looking down at his book. He didn’t read a single word, “Don’t be dumb.” 

“I am not dumb, Lorcan,” she hissed. 

“Hmm, I don’t think you’re dumb, I think you’re being dumb,” he said, flipping the page. “Because if you were being smart, you would know that you could never be happy with Fenrys and,” he lifted his eyes up to her angered gaze, her cheeks still pink, “he could never fall in love with someone like you.” 

The angered light in her eyes guttered. It was replaced by crushing sorrow and she quickly looked away from him, “Well, you would know, wouldn’t you? I can’t ever imagine someone loving you.” Without another word, Elide turned away from him and walked deeper into the library. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Ready?” 

Elide breathed out slowly, resting her hand on Fenrys’ forearm, “Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

They walked to the formal dining room, their steps sure and measured. “You look rather dashing,” Elide said, appraising her fiancé in a fitted suit. 

Fenrys flashed her a grin, taking her hand and twirling her under his arm. Elide laughed, but the unwarranted thought in her mind was that it felt nothing like when Lorcan had spun her around. “As do you,” Fenrys said, resting his hand on her lower back, her black dress offering an open back. The neckline was square with delicate straps, its skirt ending just beneath her knees with a back slit that allowed her to walk normally even with the snug fit.  

Fenrys led her to the hall and Elide saw Ress standing with Lysandra at the door. He didn’t look pleased to be there, so she held herself back and simply nodded at him. He gave her a small smile and she tucked the little victory into her heart, not noticing how he glanced at Fenrys and immediately dropped his gaze. 

She didn’t notice how Fenrys locked his jaw and stared straight ahead, tears burning in his eyes, either.

“Are we ready?” Lysandra asked, her eyes sparkling. Elide nodded, shooting her friend a grateful smile.

She and Fenrys waited outside the room as the majordomo announced from inside, “Presenting, her royal Grace, Lady Elide, and Lord Fenrys of Doranelle.”

The double doors were pulled open by two men. The couple smiled and waved politely as they walked to their seats. Aelin and Rowan were standing at the head of the table. 

The queen stayed standing as the guests all sat, raising her glass of champagne to Elide and Fenrys, “Thank you all for joining us today as we celebrate the engagement of my dear cousin, Elide, and Fenrys. I could not be more happy for the two of you.” She lifted her glass as the others did and toasted, “To Elide and Fenrys!” 

Elide lifted her glass, staring across the table at Lorcan as he mockingly tilted his head to the side and toasted them. “To the happy, happy couple,” he said, just loud enough for Elide to hear him. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide viciously cut a bite-sized piece of her veal, scowling the entire time at Lorcan, who just smiled back at her and chewed slowly on his own food. 

She hoped that he choked. 

He spoke quietly with his aunt, who looked like she wanted to throttle either Elide or Fenrys or maybe the both of them. 

Elide smirked at the thought, smug knowing she had bested Maeve. Her uncle looked displeased as well as he pushed his food around his plate, glowering down at something and on occasion, up at Lorcan. 

She watched as Vernon lifted his head to glare at her arch nemesis. Lorcan just sipped on his whiskey and regarded Vernon with a bored expression, his body language open and unimpressed. Glancing down his frame, Elide swallowed hard at the sight of his white dress shirt. Lorcan had forgone a tie, somehow managing to pull it off and not look out of place amidst Elide’s formally dressed guests. He wore a navy suit, the colour making an arresting match with his copper skintone. 

The top buttons of his shirt were opened, the white material straining over his muscular chest. She caught a glimpse of black ink and a flush appeared on her chest as she imagined tracing her tongue over it. 

Shaking her head, she looked up at Fenrys, smiling, “How are you?” 

He lowered his head to her ear, “I’m doing quite well, Elide. And you?” 

“I’m good,” Elide said, sighing in relief when servers cleared their plates for the next course. “Bit tired.” 

He slid his hand between the back of the chair and her, easing the strain from her shoulders with a soothing touch. Elide sighed, easing into it by a bit. It still wasn’t as comfortable as she wished it was. 

It was the touch of a friend, a confidant, but not one of a lover. Shame coursed through her as the memory of Lorcan’s hand on her back was the first thing she thought of. 

Fenrys’ touch was nothing like that and she wished so badly that it was. 

+*+*+*+*+*+* 

Lorcan watched Fenrys rub Elide’s back, watched how she let the royal, regal mask slip. A pang of jealousy echoed in his chest and he knocked back the rest of his whiskey, savouring the slight burn that accompanied the amber liquid. 

Still, she didn’t relax completely. An image of her, something his mind made up, took up his brain. Elide, tired and exhausted, melting into his side. She smiled sleepily, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his chest. He dropped whatever he was doing and lifted her into his arms, gently carrying her to a bed - their bed. 

The hissing voice of his aunt startled him out of his reverie. “What, Maeve,” he said, looking down at his plate to find that they had moved onto the last course of desert. Thank the Creator. 

“Were you even listening to a thing I said,” she snapped, viciously deconstructing the delicate chocolate and espresso pot de crème. 

“No.” Lorcan looked at Fenrys, who was shooting him a worried look as he glanced between Lorcan and Maeve and Elide’s horrid uncle. If Lorcan had to choose one man he hated with his entire soul, it was Vernon Lochan. He had heard the story of Elide’s injury and the moment he had met Vernon, he had had to refrain from inflicting the very same pain and abuse onto the weaselly regent. “What do you want?” 

His aunt huffed, “We still have a chance at the throne, Lorcan.” 

“Of course we do,” he said drily, watching Fenrys whisper something that had Elide covering her mouth with her hand as she laughed. Her eyes sparkled and her nose scrunched up and she looked so happy. 

Lorcan hated Fenrys in that moment. He hated him so damn much. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Maeve had finally left. She had been telling him bullshit about how they could still win, Elide could still be ineligible. 

Eventually, he had just told her he would talk to her another day and he was tired. Lorcan stood on the dining room balcony, staring out at the forest. He had a crystal glass of whiskey in his hands, the singular ice cube melting. Lorcan had been waiting too long to drink it. 

The door opened behind him and he didn’t need to turn to know that it was Fenrys. 

“Lorcan,” Fenrys said, his voice low. 

He turned, offering a tight smile, “Congrats, Fen. I’m real happy for you guys.” Lorcan drank deeply from his glass, a slight buzz numbing him. “Real fuckin’ happy.” 

Fenrys arched a brow, not believing him in the slightest. In his hands, he carried an unopened bottle of liquor, “Really?” 

“Mm-hmm. I think you’ll,” he coughed, his throat tight, “you’ll make her really happy, Fen.” 

“Lor, don’t fucking lie to me.” 

“I am not fucking lying to you, Fen,” he said, his voice raising. “I hope that you make Elide Lochan happy. I hope that she makes you happy because if she doesn’t, what the fuck is the point of any of this?” He waved his hand, “Yeah, and I know it’s my fault, it’s all I think about.” 

Lorcan breathed in deeply, putting his glass down, “You told me you were in love, Fen. With that boy, you called me when you were blackout drunk and were crying over how much you loved him. How do you just… give that up for some girl you don’t know?” 

Fenrys sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes, “The boy… he didn’t love me. Not yet, at least, and I couldn’t stand waiting around for it so… yeah. I gave whatever that was up for some girl I didn’t know. She needed help, don’t you get that?” 

Lorcan just shook his head and pulled Fenrys into a tight hug. Better than most people, he thought to himself, not noticing dark eyes watching him through the opened door.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: ......i feel like that was a lot of stuff that happened. wow. 

@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @empire-of-wildfire @ladyverena @ttakeitbacknoww @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse  @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @minaidss @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @spyofthenightcourt @januarystears @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @magicalunicorngypsy @elriel4life @sensitiveillyrian

[hypergamygimme]

✨The night my mindset about dating options changed✨

I have never been one to hold my tongue yet I am a woman who respects atmospheres. I have to get this off of my chest because to this day this particular situation has been on my mind. And with the changing climate of black women becoming more feminine and realizing we are all we have i want to tell a quick story of what broke the camel’s back on my realization of our reality in the US!

Disclaimer: I will admit I DO NOT have this issue with African men. I tend to have this issue with othe African diaspora who have been misplaced in countries such as American, Jamaica, Canada, etc. Which given the history ... this isn’t a surprise. This is not my driest time experiencing something like what I’m about to write, actually I’ve experienced WORSE, but I’m telling this story in the midst of my level up journey.

So me and my best friend went out to dinner to catch up . This was around February before we were on serious lockdown. Now my best friend is mixed. Her father is Puerto Rican (Portuguese and native ancestry due to colonization) and her mother is black American (Nigerian, Cameroon and European ancestry due to slavery) . She took an ancestry test 😊. She is proud of who she is and I love it. And for me I am beautifully, proudly, and fully a Nigerian queen. I am not dark skinned. My mother is high yellow and my father is dark skinned. My skin colors changes with the weather but typically I am a rich Carmel color with an organice undertone lol (I love my color).

Growing up my best friend did get special treatment due to her being mixed but she also worked hard to get where she is in life. She isn’t tone deaf and she’s fully aware of her position in society but honestly if you looked at her she looks like a regular light skinned black woman due to her tanning very dark and her native ancestry . Anyways, she is very basic. She does wear make up and she likes wearing her hair curly or in braids. The most make up she will wear is mascara and lipstick. She has great skin, “fine girl no pimple”. Me on the other hand... I’m a diva! I will not step out of my house to meet ANYBODY unless I have on makeup, a classy dress, and heels. My nails are always done, toes CHECK, hair CHECK! That’s just me , I’m high level.

We went to a 5 star Japanese restaurant. I noticed many white men who were looking my way and I was okay with it because I’m here to look beautiful and find potential sponsors (anywhere I go). The old me would reject the idea but the mature me is fine with it. When our meal was over we went to valet to wait for our cars. Two Jamaican-American men were also waiting on their cars. The were both very dark skinned. They began to start conversation with my best friend . Literally BOTH of them. It was like they were competing to see who could get her number. They were asking about where she was from because she was so beautiful and that many women in Jamaica look like her. She told them she was mixed with Puerto Rican and they jumped with joy because she was a Caribbean foreigner like them. As they were talking my best friend told them that I was Nigerian and that we are probably closer in relation than herself. They looked me and said “ohh I have a Nigerian friend, cool dude”, then continue to speak to my best friend. She just rolled her eyes not to even mention she has a HUGE engagement ring on!! 😂💍

When she noticed how they wrote me off she stopped speaking to them and sent them on their way. I looked her like “what the fuck IS WRONG WITH THESE NIGGAS” (excuse my language but I was heated but not surprised). The valet walked up to us and shook his head and as he was laughing at the two idiot men who just entered their vehicles. He knew what was up we all did yet, they didn’t.

My best friend wore boots, jeans, and a dark green sweater to a damn 5 star restaurant. Her hair was in a pony tail and her nail were not done. I had on high heeled sandals, a form fitting navy blue dress, and a white and black houndstooth coat. My hair was straight, my nails/toes were done and nails painted red (white toes always).

In that moment I felt so low! This wasn’t a preference, this was a passive interaction with colorist men that left me feeling ugly and unwanted. Not only that but it made me feel as though my whole level up journey was a waste of fine! NEVER EVER allow people to make you feel like something you put your all into is a waste!! I will NEVER let anyone ever make me feel that way again! That is my vibe when surrounded by these type of men , Especially men who don’t own shit in this economy when I have a countries full of men who appreciate me! I should comfortable and appreciated by default not discarded even for small talked because my friend by my side is high hello or mixed!

I wrote all of this to say, black girls and women Go to where you are appreciated. Do not waste your time waiting for black men to notice you or treat you the way you should be treated. It is set in stone that they have their ideal types even when their type does not want them. They are of colonized minds and have no loyalty to you no matter how many times you fight, march, and stand in like superwoman for them . Let it go! Now in my disclaimer before I stated that I only have this issue with displaced African diaspora. I have NEVER had this problem with African men due to how our societal structures are built on our families. I understand I do I truly do. But I have options, I made options because those other options want ME! Even though I do plan to marry a Nigerian man because they typically provide, protect, and profess (when needed lol). Also, my lineage can continue. That’s ideal but like I said I’m open when dating.

Black women! Go to where you are appreciated and not tolerated! You are the prize! You are the gift to these men! You are not an option! You have a choice to make your life luxurious and live care free because you know the man in your life hold you to a high regard! You deserve it! You are not a charity case and don’t make people feel sorry for you! I got my confidence from my lineage and I know it’s not like that for everyone but dig deep and find that love for yourself! Stop wasting your youth struggling to find black love! There are other black men in this world that love you OUTSIDE of the American colonized mindset!

Please let me know your thoughts or share your experiences of when it “clicked” for you to open your options. ✨

[danetobelieve]

Eye Eye Cap’n || Miriam and Winston

When: early August Who: @meflemming​ & @danetobelieve​ Where: Miriam’s store. Summary: Miriam discover’s Winston’s third eye. Warnings: N/A

Winston wasn’t sure that going to see Miriam was really the best idea. But recently there had been a few too many close calls with people potentially noticing their hand or spotting the eye beneath the RSI brace that they wore. If Miriam could make them something bespoke, then Winston was sure that they would be able to keep everything hidden. Hopefully. They had found the address to her shop online and had made their way over at the time she’d requested. Pressing the doorbell outside the front, Winston looked over their shoulder and tried not to grimace too much at what they were about to do. It was hard not to be afraid of Miriam with everything they knew about her, but despite that, they couldn’t help but find themselves slowly warming to her.

Between the fucking Alexa constantly playing music (80s pop was fine… in moderation… and in the 80s) and the sometimes intrusive thoughts of vegan meat, Miriam was having a time of it, to say the least. She was glad that Winston was coming over, not just because they could hopefully help her with the Alexa problem. It had been some time since she’d seen them, and that hadn’t gone particularly well. Between the mime and outing herself as a vampire, she wanted to make sure that the two of them were still alright. She thought that Winston was an outstanding person, and she cared for them a great deal. They were kind and helpful and very brave. More people could stand to be like Winston. At the sound of the doorbell, Miriam left her office and headed to the front of the shop, grateful that the sun had set. Seeing Winston, she smiled, though her eyes narrowed in on the brace around their arm. “Hi, darling. Lovely to see you.”

Frowning gently, Winston tried to ignore the long hmmm that they heard in their head. There were many different tones to these hmms that they were hearing. Some of them somber, some of them more placid and some of them even confused. It just made focussing really difficult. Ever since their bizarre dream about the beach and their parents, Winston felt like there was someone else in their head. The bright smile that the witch hunter flashed their way was enough to send a shiver down Winston’s spine. But they returned it as best they could. “Hi Miriam,” they replied with a nod, “nice to see you too, especially sans your evil mime twin.” Winston gave another nervous smile. “I hear you’re having some alexa problems?” 

“It’s nice to see you without my miming counterpart, as well,” Miriam said. “Stripes aren’t my thing, I don’t believe, and I’d never do my makeup so garish in real life.” She brushed a bit of hair out of her face, determined to set strangely intrusive thoughts aside and to focus on the tasks at hand. “Indeed I do, but let’s see about your brace first, shall we? My technological problems are rather minor in comparison. What’s going on?” Miriam led them towards the back, just so she could get her materials in the comfort of her office. She wondered if she should have invited them to her workshop at home, but she hadn’t cleaned up in a bit. This was better. She opened the office door and cleared off her desk, paperwork and pens moved to the side as she grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. She eyed the thing on WInston’s wrist, figuring out just how she was going to make something that was both functional and attractive. She could do it. She could.

“What would you prefer? Polka dots?” Winston wasn’t sure why they were choosing to tease someone who could rip their windpipe out with less effort then it would take her to snap her fingers, but here they were, anyway. “I will say that you dress much better, not that that is hard, not that you dress badly, I’ll stop digging my hole before I can’t get out of it. I’m glad there are no mimes present. “Nothing is going on … at least not yet, but if I keep working 14 hours a day on screens and keyboards then there is a real possibility of repetitive strain injury and I just want to make sure that my wrists are supported as best they can be to you know avoid that.” Not to mention the eyeball that was clearly visible underneath the brace, which … they would probably have to take off. Fuck. They’d really not thought this through. Try not to sweat Winston. Try not to sweat. Just fix the Alexa and get out. “But you know, it’s not like a big deal or anything.” 

“I look quite good in houndstooth,” Miriam joked, adding a bit of a wink. Truthfully, she cared less about patterns and more about the material of her clothing. She laughed at the way Winston stumbled over their words. “I do dress quite a bit better than she did, yes, thank you, darling.” She twirled her pencil a bit in her hand, thinking over their words. “That sounds quite serious. We’ll worry about Alexa later.” The distant sound of Hall and Oates played in the background, and Miriam’s eye twitched. “She’s annoyed me for the better part of several weeks, I can hold out a bit longer.” And, well, she could. It was clearly cursed. Somehow, surely, a witch had contacted her poor, innocent assistant and gave her a cursed object designed to annoy the shit out of Miriam for the rest of her many, many days. If she wasn’t fearful that it’d end up in her crypt, serenading her as she dessicated, she’d probably attempt to go to ground once more. “Let me see the brace and I’ll see what I can do.”

Grinning in return, Winston chuckled, “I’m sure you do.” It was difficult not to find her charming, even knowing what Winston did they were pretty sure that she was winning them over. It was weird being sympathetic towards someone who killed for fun. Or whatever the reason. Just killed because they could? Winston wasn’t sure. Either way. Weird. “Uh, I don’t know if it is that serious, I’m not in pain or anything. I guess more just worrying about something that may or may not happen but better safe then sorry.” Winston flipped their hand over so that their palm was facing the floor. Pulling the brace off and keeping the eye facing away from Miriam. They had to hope she wouldn’t notice. “If you’re sure that you can last,” Winston tried to act natural, using their spare hand to pass the brace over. As they passed it over, they slipped their hand away. The familiar buzz of their phone vibrating in their pocket instinctually drew their hand to their pocket, fishing it out they weren’t sure what happened or why they dropped the phone, but a second later it was tumbling to the floor. Winston’s other hand clumsily tried to catch it in it’s fall, but missed, and Winston was left with their eye looking directly in Miriam’s.

“Safe rather than sorry is smart, Winston,” Miriam said seriously. “It’s important to catch things before they become serious, even if they might not.” She had taken the braze and begun to analyze it closely, figuring out the best ways to create something similar but more stylish and functional. When Winston’s phone fell on the floor, she saw them reach down to catch it, and Miriam reached down as well, her vampiric reflexes making her far quicker and more agile. As she looked up, she was looking into an eye. Just one, singular, and on the wrong part of the body. Vaguely, Miriam recalled when an errant eye also appeared on her own body, though she’d cut and clawed it out multiple times. Her stomach sank as she saw it, but she didn’t look away. “Winston,” she said to it, calmly, “There’s an eye. Where there decidedly shouldn’t be an eye.” She ran through the possibilities of what could have caused it. If her own disappeared, then they shouldn’t have one, that was a fact. “Who-- What-- Who--” She pinched the bridge of her nose, leaning up and back in her chair. “What caused this. Are you cursed? Did someone curse you?” The thought of a spellcaster hurting her young friend made Miriam’s mouth taste like iron. Absentmindedly, she realized she’d bit the inside of her mouth.

“Oh … no that’s not an eye, it’s just a hyper … realistic … … … tattoo?” Winston knew before they even finished speaking that it wasn’t a lie which would convince Miriam. Anyone could see that the eye on their hand was definitely not a hyper realistic tattoo. That would be some wild tattoo work but Winston wasn’t sure that even Luce could do that for them. Swallowing, they felt sweat bead on their forehead and hurriedly wiped it away. “Okay, yeah, it’s an eye, I …” they tried to think of the best way to explain this, Miriam thought that they had been cursed and technically they had been, “... I don’t know if it is technically a curse or if it is something else entirely, that sort of thing - I’ve only just found out about you know magic, vampires … werewolves, all the things that some people in this town have no idea about, so I don’t really know if it is a curse or something else entirely.” Their pulse was racing, blood roaring in their ears as they struggled to think of a way out of this. Miriam didn’t seem to realise that they could use magic, maybe they’d be dead if she could’ve worked that out, Winston wasn’t honestly sure. “Do you - how do you tell if you’re cursed?” Winston knew, they just had to pretend they didn’t right?

Miriam raised an eyebrow at Winston’s words, grateful that they backtracked almost immediately. She didn’t want to have to scold them about this, nor did she appreciate the offense to her intelligence. Anyone with human eyes could see that the eye clearly wasn’t a tattoo, and Miriam’s eyes were far better than a human’s. She could tell how stressed Winston was by all of this, though, and she couldn’t blame them for wanting to keep this a secret. She couldn’t imagine how terrifying this all must be. For all her hatred of magic, she’d been introduced to it in beautiful ways: rocks being turned into rubies, flowers blooming out of season, snow suspending itself in air. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have something as terrible as an eyeball cursed into one’s hand being one of the first experiences to ever have with magic. “Truthfully, darling, if you wanted to tell if you were cursed or not, you’d need someone with some sort of magical persuasion,” she gritted her teeth, “to help you. Or perhaps you could retrace your steps? Have you been in contact with anyone or anything that could have done this? I do believe I heard there was some sort of monster in the lake.” She kept her expression sincere and sympathetic. “I assure you though, WInston, if someone did this to you, you only have to let me know who, and they’ll no longer be a problem.”

Winston wondered if there was some level of moral culpability that they were giving to themselves by playing along with this. They could’ve just left Miriam well enough alone. But there was just something about her, about her charm, about the way that she seemed to flow from one thing to another as effortlessly and gracefully as the currents of the ocean. “No, I don’t ... “ Winston shook their head, “I work for the WCPD I can’t just have people be no longer a problem Miriam….” Their heart was pounding. She’d just offered to kill someone for them. Winston was 100% sure of at least that. “I know, I know how I got the eye, I was kind of part of the solution to deal with the monster in the lake but dealing with the monster in the lake had it’s own draw backs,” Winston raised their palm and gave it a wiggle, “but it was my choice and I’d make the same choice to keep people safe again if I had to.” 

“Oh, darling, it’d never get back to you,” Miriam said gently. And it wouldn’t. She was good at what she did. The only reason people knew anything about a witch hunter is because she had a bit of a flare for the dramatic, and she wanted them to know. She liked the fear, the panic, from a spellcaster who figured out just who caught them. She wasn’t getting any pleasure from the panic on Winston’s face, though. “Alright, though.”  She looked at them closely, taking in their words. “You were a part of the solution to get rid of the monster in the lake, and that’s how you got the hand in your eye.” She repeated the words slowly. Miriam had no idea what had been necessary to get the monster out of the lake, if it had even gotten out of the lake. She didn’t particularly care, either, since it no longer affected her. But it was affecting her friend. “What were you needed for? Technological help?”

“Whether or not it gets back to me isn’t really why I’m not a fan of the idea,” Winston replied, “I just, I’m not sure I’m down for killing people willy nilly just because they’ve done something to me.” This was surreal. They were pretty sure that Miriam wouldn’t be as sympathetic if she knew the truth. Which Winston wasn’t about to tell her. Because she could snap their spine like a twig and use it as a tooth pick for her sharp vampire fangs without a moment’s hesitation. Swallowing, Winston felt their heart race. Her fangs had been so sharp and the way she’d staked her vampire mime counterpart had been ruthless and without remorse. Winston had dealt with their own mime and cried about it every night for a week. Not that there was anything wrong with that. It was just that there were different strokes for different blokes and Winston wasn’t sure that they had the ruthless killer stroke that Miriam did. Winston’s mind raced. “Sort of. I’m kind of digitising a big archive of supernatural information with my boyfriend and we were approached by someone trying to solve it so that’s how I got involved. So I guess tech help? Somehow I always end up being IT support.” 

“Of course,” Miriam said easily, though the smile she gave Winston was a bit pained. She sometimes forgot what it was like for death and killing to not be… normal. Which, her life, unlife, whatever the hell she could call it, was hardly normal. She was simply forgetting, occasionally, what it was like to not know the taste of blood, to not know the feeling of a knife in her hands, to not feel enjoyment at another’s pain. She missed the not knowing, sometimes. This was one of those times. “You shouldn’t be getting involved with such things, Winston,” she reprimanded them gently. It took her a second to realize what she sounded like. She backtracked a bit, making her voice lighter, less concerned. “Eyeballs in hands don’t seem particularly fun, and if you’re to be helping anyone with technical difficulties, darling, I’d like it to be me over any other supernatural. Unless you’ve replaced me with some other vampire.” She put her hand over her unbeating heart dramatically before she got back to business. Picking up the brace, she said, “We can work on the Alexa some other time, though. Why don’t I get started working on something for you to hide that eye with. And, perhaps,” begrudgingly, she thought of Morgan and whether or not it would be possible to see about if the zombie knew of anyone who could help Winston, “we can eventually see about finding a way to do something about that.” She paused. “Unless you like it, of course.”

Once upon a time, the idea of taking someone’s life made Winston’s stomach crawl. They remembered when the topic of Miriam, a vampire witch hunter, had come up. Everyone had been dead set on killing her, but Winston hadn’t been sure. Then they had slowly come around to the idea as they had realised that the supernatural world didn’t play by the rules that they expected it to. Winston had been forced to kill others now. Had taken lives themselves out of necessity but never pleasure. They’d even brought someone back to life. The screams of August would never cease to ring inside of the empty caverns of their psyche but despite that Winston constantly came back to the fact that taking Miriam’s life … unlife, was not something they wanted to do. “It’s not that,” Winston replied, “I just wanted to help…” It hadn’t been a lie. Winston’s whole life had been working towards helping White Crest and they weren’t about to stop now. “Don’t worry though, I don’t think I’d be looking to replace you with another vampire … well ever. I don’t know if all vampires are as … gregarious as you are.” They swallowed and raised their eyebrows at Miriam’s reply. “Thank you, I really appreciate the help … is there, do you know a lot about magic?” 

“Helping is good,” Miriam said, seeing the war play out in Winston’s mind. “Your desire to help people is what makes you such a good person, a kind person, and I think kindness and helpfulness go a long way.” She also thought that kindness and helpfulness could get exploited by the wrong people. If whoever Winston was trying to help was merely using them, Miriam would hurt them, spellcaster or not. It, perhaps, would not be as satisfying of a meal, but it would do the job. She’d simply wait and allow them to tell her more if they wanted to. If not, she’d find out on her own. Sitting back, Miriam smiled. “Well, I’d certainly hope you wouldn’t replace me with another vampire.” She gave them a wink. “I like to think I’m one of a kind.” The only one of her kind that she knew of, whatever that may be. “Of course, darling. Whatever you need me for, you only have to ask.” She paused, thinking. “I never practiced magic myself. My husband did. His family were apart of an old coven. Respected in name, but… lacking in resources to hone their craft. I came for a wealthy family.” She looked around her office, which was once her father’s office, at all the fine things that showed off that wealth. Sometimes she hated it. “Plenty of resources. He loved my money far more than me.” Miriam gave them a tense smile. “It’s fine. I’ve moved on. But being with him and without him has taught me quite a lot about magic.”

“The more I learn about this … world, as in, everything that it includes, everything that goes on, all the stuff with hunters and slayers and wardens, the more convinced I am that if everyone just helped each other and tried to be a bit kinder then maybe we’d all be in a better position.” Winston swallowed thoughtfully, trying to think if there would ever, if there could ever be a way that they could tell Miriam about all of this, about what they really were. “I was about to say, I don’t think that there are any vampires that have your … flair.” This was an odd game to be playing with someone who could and would very happily end Winston’s life if they made one misstep. “Thats… to be honest that’s just really shit. You deserve better then someone using you for what you have instead of just being with you for who you are, I mean obviously no one deserves to be just used for the sake of it but you of all people don’t strike me as someone who deserves it for any other reason then material gain. I just … god I’m not doing a good job at saying that’s really terrible and I’m sorry it happened to you. I guess it doesn’t matter if you can do magic or if you grow fur on the full moon or if you drink blood, sometimes people can just be dicks.”

“I can’t disagree with you,” Miriam said carefully. She was one of those people who sometimes wasn’t kind. “But I can also say that things aren’t so simple. I wish they were. I wish we lived in a world where hurting and killing wasn’t necessary, but somethings are simply impossible.” She sighed. Maybe if the world was a better place, she could find peace. “I like to think I have a certain ‘flair’ as you put it that other vampires just can’t compete with.” Whatever Winston thought of her, she was glad they hadn’t taken off or ratted her out when they found out what she was. “It’s… It happened. It was quite some time ago.” She flexed her fingers a bit. “But thank you, Winston. Truly. Sometimes, people are monsters. Humans are monster. As you say, it’s not just limited to werewolves or vampires or zombies.” Talking to Winston, who was little more than a child, Miriam felt more vulnerable than she had in quite some time. Even with Morgan, despite the fact that she’d grown to enjoy talking to the zombie, she tried to be cautious. Morgan seemed to still be under the impression that Miriam could change, and Miriam couldn’t let those thoughts affect her. But, with Winston, it was so easy to want to be a bit better. “I can be… quite a dick, sometimes, Winston. A bit of a monster, really. I often wonder if it was the way my husband treated me that made me like this, or if I was simply like this all along.” She took a breath that she did not need and attempted a smile. “But, enough about me. Let’s get you fixed up, hm?”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ve begun to realise that the morally idealistic world that I thought we all lived in is not the same world as this one. Which was a shock to the system, but, probably the good kind of shock.” Winston replied with a shrug. The shrug was replaced by a smirk at Miriam. Nodding they sighed. “You definitely have good taste in fashion.” That probably came from the whole working in the fashion industry. “Yeah, I’m starting to realise that although someone might not be a human, that doesn’t mean anything. What matters is people’s actions, the way people behave rather then applying a standard to everyone just because of who they were. “Nobody is perfect, even if you were like this all along that justify the way that he behaved, but his mistakes don’t have to colour your life forever.” Winston knew what she was talking about even if she didn’t know that they knew that, it didn’t matter. Winston wasn’t sure that Miriam could change, but they were hoping that they could at least help her realise that there was the potential for it. 

“I can certainly imagine that it wasn’t the best in the beginning,” Miriam said, sighing. Magic, the supernatural, it is all so lovely until it isn’t. It’s all good and perfect until it ruins your life. “You get used to it, being surprised but the greyscale with which we base our morals off of.” She fingered the sleeve of the jacket hanging behind her. “I’d certainly hope so.” Though her clothes had been a bit outdated when she first woke up, she was slowly getting used to things again. It helped that so many styles were coming back. She shifted a bit. “I used to think that striving for perfection was the only option. I like being… good at everything that I do. I get that no one is perfect. He wasn’t, I’m far from it… I wanted perfection desperately. As for his mistakes, well, I’m afraid they define my whole existence. Most of it.” She gently stroked the jacket again. “My own actions tie in a little.” Perhaps, with this, she could balance out some of her worst actions with good ones. She turned her attention back to the brace, taking in the separate components of it and figuring out how to best transfer that to something while keeping it stylish. She scrutinized it closely before she started working on a sketch. 

“Yeah, well I’ve managed to get over the initial shock of learning that the world isn’t entirely black and white, getting used to the greyscale is it’s own challenge in it’s own way,” Winston had been ready to sign the proverbial death warrant on Miriam just a few months ago and yet they couldn’t think of anything worse then ending her unlife now. “Maybe you can’t be perfect, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t be good….” Winston hoped and prayed that she would realise, “it doesn’t even have to be good in anyone elses eyes, ultimately I guess that your own perception of yourself is the most important because it is the perception of yourself that you have to live with, or not in your case, I don’t really, do you call it like .. unlife? I guess it doesn’t matter. Just don’t let someone else’s short comings force you to live a life that you wouldn’t choose for yourself. If his mistakes define you then hasn’t he won?” Winston wanted to scream that not all spellcasters were bad but somehow they doubted that would convince her of the error of her ways. 

“It certainly isn’t always fun.” Though, it was the gray areas that Miriam seemed to thrive in. If she could keep her actions just gray enough, perhaps she wasn’t the great evil that she’s been called. She will never forget Gillian Wildes staring at her from across the town line and cursing her name. But Miriam knew, she knew that she was in the right for ridding the world of witches. She knew it. Sometimes, evil things had to be done for the right reasons. It’s what she told herself. She looked up and gave Winston a soft smile, one that didn’t meet her eyes. “I appreciate that, darling. Truly. I suppose as long as I’m good in my own eyes, that’s all that matters.” She wasn’t though, and perhaps that’s what was most damning. “It’d be a bit foolish of me to let him win.” Finally, after a bit of time, she handed them a sketch for a leather bracer that would ensure the eye didn’t get damaged while also keeping it covered. “How’s this?”

Somehow, Winston got the impression that Miriam wasn’t convinced by their little speech. Which meant that Winston wasn’t about to tell her the truth. Swallowing, Winston tried to forget about the fact that she’d probably rip their throat out with her teeth if she ever found out why they had they eye, like why they REALLY had it. “That looks really really good.” Miriam was clearly good at what she did because she had in her own way done several things that Winston would’ve never considered otherwise. “Thank you, how much do you think this is gonna cost?” Obviously they were going to pay her for her work.  

“Thank you,” Miriam said, though she knew it looked good. It looked good, and it would be efficient. It was something that she knew she could design quickly, too. Days were long and monotonous since she couldn’t go outside, so this would give her something to do. “Don’t worry about the price. This is a gift for a friend.” She looked off to her bookshelf, where the Alexa was sitting, seeming to mind its own business, but Miriam knew better. She took it down from the shelf and put it in front of Winston. “Though, if you’d like, you can take this infernal device off my hands. I don’t want to deal with it anymore.” It was cursed. Someone had cursed it, given it to her assistant, and had it sent to her. There was no other explanation. “But, otherwise, this is free of charge.”

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 18 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hieeee babies! We are so excited to share this very dramatic chapter with you! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Monday morning madness when Violet discovered that Courtney screwed up the Fashion Week confirmations.  

This Chapter: Courtney faces the music, we meet a very determined reporter, and Violet loses her shit.

***

“Hey gorgeous! To what do we owe the honor of this visit?” Alaska asked cheerfully.

Courtney stepped forward, into Alaska’s office. Even the charming decor, which usually filled Courtney with happiness, did nothing to alleviate the guilt that was pressing down on her lungs.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Shit, sounds serious,” Alaska said. “Okay, have a seat.”

Courtney sat, biting her trembling lip and taking in a shaky, shallow breath.

“They didn’t send you down here to fire me, did they?” Alaska giggled, then realized that Courtney wasn’t laughing along and grew slightly more somber, folding her hands. “What’s wrong, honey?”

She was just so nice, and it made Courtney hate herself even more.

“I...really messed up.”

“How so?” Alaska looked genuinely concerned, which only made Courtney feel worse.

“Um…” There was no way around it except biting the bullet. “I was handling the Fashion Week confirmations, but…” Courtney took a deep breath. “I missed some of the tabs on the spreadsheet, and so I didn’t reach out to people until this morning and some of them have taken other jobs.”

“You ‘missed tabs’?” Alaska repeated, her voice filled with disbelief.

“Yeah, I just...I didn’t see that there was more than one, so-”

Alaska sighed heavily, letting out a small, aggravated sound, before asking, “So then...okay, how bad is it?”

“Um…”

“How many people are unavailable, Courtney?”

Courtney handed over the pages in her hands, unable to look Alaska in the eye. She just couldn’t face the disappointment and anger that she knew would be on her face right now. She pressed her lips together, still trying to hold back the flood of tears, cheeks burning hot with shame, as Alaska looked over the lists.

“Jesus christ…” she muttered, then picked up the phone. “Kim? Hi, it’s me. Sooooo, there was a bit of a snafu with some of the Fashion Week staff and we need to pull names for alternates...Uh huh...Probably at least 15—...I know, I know. I’m sorry, this is...Yeah, you know what? Get me some recommendations from Yara Sofia, and I’ll see who’s working some of the shows 2 days before...Yeah, let’s make some calls and then reconvene in 30...Okay...Yeah, I get it, I’m sorry...Bye.”

“I’m so sorry, Alaska,” Courtney said. “I don’t know how I could have been so careless. But...please just tell me what I can do to help you guys-”

“I think you’ve done enough. You should go.”

Courtney nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat and standing up. Telling herself that she just had to get to the bathroom before letting any tears fall.

Without another word, she turned and ran, racing blindly for the nearest restroom, where she locked herself into a stall and finally let herself fall apart, crying like the useless baby that she was. What was she doing in this job? Who in their right mind thought it was a good idea to trust her with so many important tasks for such a huge company? How come, no matter how hard she tried, she was just never able to stay on top of it all?

A few minutes later, she heard the door open and heels click softly as they walked towards her.

She tried to get ahold of herself, especially once she saw the houndstooth pumps under the stall door, but it was no use.

“Courtney.”

“Y-yes?”

“This sucks. Okay? And it’s gonna be a huge headache to fix, and just something we really didn’t need today on top of everything else we’re dealing with—”

“I know,” Courtney said, breath hitching.

“—but...we’ll manage. Okay? So stop beating yourself up, and just do better in the future. I know you can.” Alaska paused before adding, “You’re better than this one mistake.”

Something about her kindness, even after all that, made Courtney lose it even more. A sob escaped her chest, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Enough of this, okay?” Alaska said. “Take a minute, then wash your face and come back to my office. I have a job for you.”

***

Courtney knocked tentatively on Alaska’s open door. She’d managed to pull herself together, and though everything in head was screaming to turn and run--from this company, from this job, from the silly dreams that kept her in this country--she’d forced herself to return and face the music.

“Sit.” Alaska pointed to a spot on the sofa, where a phone and a blank notepad were lined up on the coffee table. “Violet said that we could borrow you for the afternoon, so you can help us get out of this mess. I’ve emailed you the contact info for a bunch of makeup artists and hairstylists. You need to find out their availability, and if they have recommendations. If they’re free, tell them we’ll return with confirmation and a deal memo by the end of the day.”

Courtney nodded, sitting down and eagerly getting to work, relieved that she could have a small part of the solution.

“And Courtney…”

“Yes?” Courtney looked back up at her.

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Not Violet,” Courtney muttered, almost as a reflex, and Alaska burst out laughing.

“Are you kidding? Violet’s been here for over a year now, but when she first got the job, that office was a mess. Everyonemakes mistakes. Trust me. The real test is what you do afterwards.”

“Thanks, Alaska,” said Courtney, looking up at her with a smile for the first time all day.

“No problem. Now get to work!”

Courtney grinned, lifting the receiver and dialing the first number on her list. It took them almost 4 hours (and a bribe from Kim’s favorite sushi place to keep everyone working through lunch), but they eventually found people for all of the positions. When they finally finished, Courtney headed back upstairs to print out all the signed deal memos and update the spreadsheet with their new staff.

Violet was gone, having accompanied Fame to a meeting at Saks, but she’d left something wonderful behind on Courtney’s desk—not one, but two Fashion Week party invitations, with a yellow Post-It note with the word “sorry” written on it.

Courtney picked up her phone, sending a text to Violet with just the word ‘thanks.’

***

Willam hated his boss.

He hadn’t always. When he first got the job at OK!, Detox had been almost like a hero to him. But as the months wore on, and story after story got tossed or ripped to shreds or cut down to a two-line caption for some stupid photo collage, the resentment had built up to the point where he felt physical anger every time he saw Detox, or his stupid face, or his hideous yellow hair.

It just wasn’t fair. Willam knew that he was a more talented reporter, and a smarter person, than anyone else on staff. But in the meeting today, Rhea’s idiotic idea about a spread on celebrity foodstagrams had gotten praise, whereas he’d gotten chewed out, treated like garbage, all for pursuing a story that Detox failed to understand. Or worse, was actively trying to cover up.

“Hey bro. You alright?” Rhea asked, poking her head in the door.

“No. And fuck off,” Willam spat, turning to his computer.

“Ooh, someone’s maaad…” Rhea didn’t take the hint at all, slipping into the office and shutting the door behind her.

“I mean it, Rhea, get the fuck out of here.”

“Awww, it’s okay. I can handle your wittle tantrum, baby,” she said mockingly. “You need a snacky? Juice box? A wittle baby nappy?”

She reached forward to tousle his hair, and he pushed her away, eyes blazing with anger.

“This is bullshit and you know it!” he exclaimed.

“Bro, it’s not that big of a deal. Just drop it and find a different story to work on.” Rhea yawned, examining her nails.

“But I’m finally getting somewhere!”

“Are you? Because you said you’d hit a dead end with that sexy lesbian-”

“Sure. Pearl was a dead end. But-”

“Tragic,” Rhea clucked. “I could have made magic with her…” She punctuated her statement with an extremely lewd tongue gesture.

“Gross. And fine, yes, she didn’t give me anything, but-”

“And Detox literally told you 5 times that there’s no story there.”

“Exactly, Rhea! So what’s he trying to cover up? He obviously didn’t like that I was getting too close to something big. You know he’s friends with her.”

“Sure...but even if you’re right, then what?” Rhea said. “Say you find some crazy dirt, you really think he’ll publish it?”

“I think that if I find some crazy dirt, Detox fucking Sanderson won’t matter. I’ll be able to sell the story anywhere.”

Rhea chuckled, shaking her head.

“Alright, but you haven’t found anything yet. So what’s your next move, champ? Because so far you’ve got nothing.”

“I got a new mark…” He pulled up a folder of photos on his computer. “Look.”

Rhea looked, head tilted, a puzzled expression on her face.

“These are just pictures of Fame. What am I looking at? You have lost it, bro”

“Look closer. See the chick who’s behind her in every photo?” Willam zoomed in on a striking but clearly camera-shy brunette.

“Okay...her assistant? And?”

“Exactly. And assistants know all their boss’s dirt. But it’s not her I’m after.” Willam clicked through a few more photos, finally finding the one he was looking for. “Bingo.”

In this picture, the brunette was nowhere to be found, but an adorable, bewildered looking blonde was standing behind Fame in a pretty little mint green dress, bogged down with bags.

“A different assistant. Hashtag who cares?”

“A new assistant, Rhea. And new means vulnerable. Trust me...that girl? Is my ticket to aaalllll the dirt.”

***

Pearl opened the door to Laganja’s office, her hands filled with boxes upon boxes of invitations to Fashion Week shows and parties.

Fashion Week was a beast, Fashion Month was a monster. Fame was traveling to London as soon as New York was over, Milan and then Paris following, the prep work to get all of that ready always a struggle. Her assistants bore the brunt of it, Fame’s expensive taste and particular likes and dislikes not changing just because she was on another continent.

Pearl however, had a job to do too. As boss in the social media department, it was Pearl’s job to decide which shows, parties and events would be worth covering for their social media, and what different employees of Galactica should show up to, to best feature and nourish their brand in all four cities.

“Ready to crunch down?”

“I was born ready, mama.”

***

“I have Fame for Raja,” Violet said into the phone, her finger was on the button, ready to patch the call through.

“Oh, sorry. Raja’s in the conference room!” Ivy was always so cheerful, and for the hundredth time Violet wondered how she did it. “She’s working on the model castings. Should I interrupt?”

Violet bit her lip. Fame hated when she was bogged down by unimportant details, but she hated it even more when decisions were made without her.

“Hang on.” Violet clicked back over to Fame. “Raja is working on model casting in the conference room. Should I interrupt?”

“Where is my fruit salad?”  

“On it’s way Miss.” Violet glanced at Courtney’s empty seat, checking her watch. She’d never understand how Courtney could be so slow at everything she did.

“Well hurry up.” Fame hung up, and the line went dead. Violet quickly pressed back to her call with Ivy, wondering to herself if she should text Courtney to speed it along with the food. Not that it would do any good. The last time she sent that message, she got a glib response along the lines of ‘I’ll tell them to chop faster.’

“No need to interru-”

“Violet.” The door to the office opened, and Fame sailed out, snapping her fingers. “Come.”

Violet hung up right away, knowing that Ivy would understand as she grabbed her notebook and phone. By the time she caught up, Miss Fame was already halfway to the conference room.

Shit. She really should have predicted this.

Fame wanted to be involved, no decision too small if it’s subject caught her attention.

Violet tried to text Courtney, a quick shoe emoji to Ivy telling her they were on their way, as she hurried along, making sure the clack of her heels matched Fame’s perfectly so her boss wouldn’t get annoyed at the dual sounds.

As they walked past the glass wall in the conference room, Violet glanced inside.

Raja was sitting at the table. She was wearing a purple silk shirt, heavy gold decorating her ears, fingers and neck, her hair collected in a high ponytail. Trixie was there too, his sweatshirt of the day a bubblegum pink number.

The table was filled with black portfolio folders, and Violet recognized about fifty model cards that were spread out amongst the polaroids of their finished looks.

Violet was just about to get in front of Fame, so she could hold the conference room door open, when she felt her stomach drop.

Right there, at the opposite end of the table, was Sutan.

He was stunning in burgundy, his entire attention focused on his sister as he was talking to her, Raja laughing at something he said.

Sutan hadn’t spotted her yet, but Violet wanted to cry. There was no way she could hide, nowhere to escape to, the other without a doubt recognizing her the minute she stepped inside, and then it’d all be over.

Violet could feel her throat close up, panic clawing at her chest.

“Miss-”

Fame turned to look at her, Violet not even recognizing that she was the one who had called for her boss’s attention.

“I-” Violet was blank. Completely blank.

“I don’t have all day, Violet.”

“I’m going to go get your food.”

“Fine.”

Violet had no idea where it had come from, but Fame turned away from her, clearly dismissing her and blessedly leaving her outside of the conference room.

“Tantan! Were you really going to come by without saying hi-”

The door to the conference room closed, cutting the sound of Fame’s voice off, and Violet did the only thing she could think of.

She ran.

Slamming the door to the office closed helped a little, but her heart was still in her throat. She checked her hair and makeup in her black computer screen, yanking off her ID card and smoothing down her dress over and over again as she walked in a small circle, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Violet?”

Courtney came in through the door, the blonde holding the promised fruit salad in her hand, and for the first time, Violet felt relief course through her body at the sight of her.

“Are you okay?” Courtney asked.

Violet was utterly screwed, but maybe, just maybe, she would be able to pull off the impossible.

All she needed was for Courtney to follow her instructions perfectly.

“Fame is in the conference room for a meeting.”

“So why aren’t you there? Is everything alright?” Courtney’s brow furrowed.

It was a fair question, but it was also a fair question Violet wasn’t going to answer.

“I need you to bring her the food, and take notes.”

“What? Are you sick?”

Violet had started to trust Courtney more and more, but she still hadn’t allowed her to even attempt to take down Fame’s rapid fire orders during meetings, forgetting something at one of those a fatal mistake.

“Go. Now. Please.”

Courtney looked at her like she was insane, but she quickly plated the fruit, grabbed a roll of silverware, her notebook and phone, and hurried to the conference room.

***

Courtney entered the conference room, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible as she set Fame’s bowl of fruit down in front of her, along with the wrapped silverware. She opened her notebook, trying to find a place to stand where she wouldn’t be in the way.

Should she sit? She’d never been present in this room for a meeting where she had nothing to do but listen. It seemed inappropriate somehow to sit down beside Fame at the table, but also weird to be standing behind her, especially since the table was mostly empty.

Courtney vaguely remembered seeing assistants stand along the wall, so she did just that.

Everyone around the table was talking animatedly, Raja and Fame so firm in their opinions it almost sounded like they were fighting, but Courtney couldn’t focus on them or what they were saying.

All she could think about was Violet.

Courtney had never seen her coworker so visibly flustered.

Eyes wild, cheeks red, voice cracking.

She had looked like she was in genuine distress, and something told her that she should just forget about this impromptu meeting and go back to check on Violet.

After all, Fame could easily call her back if she needed something, right?

On the other hand, Violet had ordered her in no uncertain terms to stay with Fame, and there was a chance that whatever was upsetting her would be worse if she had the added stress of being worried about her boss. So Courtney supposed that she should just stay and do what she was told. She tried to follow the conversation about models, taking what notes she could manage. The good news was, nobody seemed to notice or care that she was there, so she assumed that her position near the door, back pressed against the wall, had been the right move.

“You’re blind.”

“It’s an opinion.”

“Trixie, not now darling. Why are all of these- Sutan where is that model I like?”

“I’m going to need a bit more information to go on if you want my help.”

“Who was that model from that latest Vogue?” Fame asked, waving her hand in the air. “The one on my desk with the red?” When her boss tossed a questioning look over her shoulder, Courtney realized that this question must be directed at her.

““I-I’m not sure, Miss?” Was this the sort of thing Violet got asked and was expected to answer? “Would you like me to go get-”

“Ugh,” Fame let out an annoyed scoff, and seemed to only now realize that Courtney was the one who was there. “Where’s Violet?”

“She’s taking care of something in the office,” Courtney said quickly, not really lying through her teeth, though the thing Violet was taking care of most of all was that she looked like she had seen a ghost.

“Go tell her that if she enjoys her job,” Fame said slowly, “she’ll get back here immediately.”

Courtney hesitated for a split second before Fame snapped her fingers, adding, “Now!”

“Yes, Miss!” Courtney said, rushing from the room.

***

Violet was trying desperately to stay calm. She was pacing the office, her brain working in overdrive, her fingers tugging at her skirt.

Violet was no stranger to digging her own grave, but this was an especially deep one, and she wasn’t sure if she could get out.

Under normal circumstances, Violet would run away. She’d burn the bridge, never look back, and walk away from her mistake, but she didn’t want to walk away from Sutan.

She hadn’t lied to him, not exactly, but she still wanted to cry.

Sutan was everything she could ask for, not because he earned more money a month than Violet would in a year, even as a designer, not because of his connections and how he seemed to know everyone who was anything.

No. So far, Sutan had been perfect because of how he acted. He was attentive and kind, respecting Violet’s boundaries without any kind of fight. It felt like he was interested in what she was saying, his eyes lighting up in delight when she shared her opinion.

Violet had no idea why he seemed to like her so much, why he chose to spend time with her and he could have anyone he pointed at, pretty girl after pretty girl probably standing in line to hang on his arm, but somehow, he had chosen her.

There was no way, however, no way at all, that he’d want to continue that when he found out who she really was.

When he saw that she was nothing more than an assistant, who couldn’t even do her job right.

“Um…”

Violet turned around to see Courtney in the doorway.

“I’m really sorry, Violet, but Miss Fame asked for you.”

That was it then. Violet was dead. Her plan had failed, and she had to face the music. She gathered her things, nausea rumbling in her stomach.

“I can tell her you’re sick.”

Violet looked over her shoulder at Courtney who was still standing by the door, a lock of blonde hair twisted around her finger, her lip between her teeth.

“Whatever you want,” she added.

Courtney was a ridiculously good friend, and Violet snorted, the harsh sound betraying how utterly fucked she felt.

“She asked something about a model in the Vogue on her desk, so I can just go get-”

“Jourdan Dunn?” Violet had no idea why Courtney didn’t know that, Fame actually mentioning the model by name one day when Violet had brought her a coffee.

“Great!” Courtney scribbled the name down. “If you need to go, like to the doctor or something, you should go. I’ll message you if anything comes up, or leave you alone completely if that’s what you need, just tell me-”

Violet was pretty sure Courtney had no idea what she had just offered, the blonde in no way ready to run the office on her own.

“No.”

Violet could feel green eyes on her, Courtney watching her every move.

“I’ll go.”

Violet took a deep breath, grabbed her things from the desk and said a slight prayer before she made her way to the conference room, already mourning her lost relationship with Sutan as she closed the door behind her.

***

Sutan was drumming his fingers against the table, a half finished bottle of pellegrino in front of him. He had perked up immediately when Fame had said Violet’s name, the anonymous blonde disappearing to go get her.

He had texted Violet as soon as he had gotten the email from Raja that she wanted him at Galactica, and that she wanted him there now, but as always, she hadn’t seen his message yet.

“I like your new bag, Trixie-” Sutan smiled as he looked at Trixie who had gotten up to stretch, the man looking out the window. Trixie had a fanny pack hanging off of his hip, the cut a lot like what Sutan had seen the European male models run around with over their shoulders, but while theirs was black, Trixie’s was a hot pink and completely covered in jewels.

“Very very stylish.”

“Katya made it for me.”

Sutan wondered if he was supposed to know who Katya was, but Trixie seemed to love it, and fashion was fun at it’s core, or so he had been told.

Sutan was just about to get up himself for a stretch when Violet opened the door and stepped inside, a notebook in hand, her back completely straight.

She was just as pretty as always, an art printed poplin dress in white and light blue paired with a set of elegant heels, her black hair falling down her shoulders, a golden hair clip holding it in place.

He knew that Violet was a designer, but he was pleasantly surprised, and even a little proud, that she was apparently high enough on the food chain to be needed for a meeting like this. It was impressive, only 23, and already invaluable to senior management.

“Hello-“

“Glad you could finally grace us with your presence, Miss Chachki,” Fame drawled, looking bored and kind of impatient. “I need the name of the girl from Vogue, the one with the red-”

“Jourdan Dunn, Miss?”

“Yes!” Fame snapped her fingers. “Jourdan Dunn.”

“You want Jourdan? Now?” Sutan snorted. The model had been booked for months, and while he was very good at his job, he couldn’t make magic happen just because one of his friends changed her mind. “And would you like unicorns at your show as well-”

He was cut off as Raja kicked him under the table, his twin shooting him a serious look that told him to watch his mouth.

“You want someone like Jourdan.” Sutan put it down on the piece of paper in front of him. “Noted.”

“It suits our more tropical, garden-y type of theme for the collection,” Raja picked up a few girls, moving them over and into the approved pile. “Green does look wonderful on darker skin tones.”

Trixie, Fame and Raja chatted back and forth for a bit, Sutan at first caught up in their conversation, but as they started to discuss hairstyles, he zoned out. What they actually did with the models once they were booked was not his business, and while hair could be uncomfortable to endure, it was rarely a violation.

His attention wandered, his gaze settling on something much more interesting than clip on bangs.

Violet was standing against the wall, the woman writing away, noting down everything that was being said.

Sutan tried to catch her eye, tried to get Violet’s attention, but it almost felt like she was avoiding him completely, her gaze glued to her notes.

“Violet?”

Sutan was pulled out of his thoughts as Fame called Violet’s name.

“We need a round of coffees.”

Sutan’s brow furrowed, confused. Why would Miss Fame be sending a lead designer for coffees?

He looked around the room, only now realizing that the apparently useless blonde from earlier wasn’t in attendance anymore.

“Yes, Miss,” Violet said, voice so soft it was almost a whisper, before speaking up a bit more clearly. “What can I get for you all?”

“Hmm, mint tea would be great,” Raja said.

“Can I get an iced mocha with extra whip?” Trixie asked. Violet nodded, writing it down. “Thanks, you’re an angel.”

Violet finally looked Sutan in the eye for the first time all day.

“Anything for you… Sir?”

Sir? Violet had never called him sir, her brown eyes looking at him for the first time, and that was when it clicked. Fame wasn’t sending a designer out for coffees.

“Umh…” Sutan sat up in his chair, the whole situation absolutely bizarre. “No thanks.”

Violet nodded, the tears clear in her eyes as she turned towards the door, walking slowly and precisely. To anyone who didn’t know her, she seemed perfectly calm, but Sutan knew better.

“Please, Violet, continue to move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me,” Fame said drily, before turning her attention back to the model cards, pointing. “I like her…”

Sutan sat in his chair, a little dumbfounded. Violet was Fame’s assistant? Why hadn’t she told him that before? And why was she so upset? Nothing made sense at the moment.

“Hello? Tan?” Fame snapped her fingers, trying to get his attention.

“Yes?”

“Good lord, what is wrong with everyone today?” Fame tapped on one of the cards. “I want her. Trixie, don’t you think she’d be perfect for the resort look?”

“Her chest is a little flat.”

“But look at that waist! Those eyes! Sew some chicken cutlets into the top and she’ll be fine.”

“I can do that.” Trixie made a note.

“Put her on hold, Sutan,” Fame said, handing him the modeling card.

“Are you okay?” Raja asked, her head tilted in concern as she surveyed her brother up and down.

“Yes.” [Actually. No.] Sutan swallowed, his throat feeling as dry as sandpaper. [I need a-] “I need a minute to...excuse me.”

He rose from his chair, and Fame threw up her hands in exasperation.

“Is Mercury in retrograde?”

***

Courtney jumped up from her desk when Violet re-entered. She’d busied herself with updating the schedule and ordering office supplies, but found it impossible to concentrate when she was this worried. Something was really wrong with Violet, and even though Courtney didn’t know what, she felt awful just sitting here doing nothing.

“Violet!” Courtney rushed towards her. “Please tell me what’s wrong, are you-”

“I’m fine.” Violet pushed her way past her, tears falling from her eyes as she grabbed her jacket and her sunglasses, covering herself up so quickly Courtney almost doubted that she had even seen tears fall from Violet’s eyes before she grabbed for her keycard as well.

Courtney had never seen Violet like this before, had never seen her express any emotion beyond calm professionalism or indignant anger, so Violet’s tears shook her to the very core. She also seemed to be having trouble breathing, her skin red and blotchy.

“Please Violet, tell me what’s going on,” Courtney begged.

“Everything is fucked, that’s what’s wrong,” Violet hissed, the tinge of panic back in her voice. “I couldn’t even look at him! Couldn't even-”

“Couldn’t look at who?” Courtney racked her brain. She highly doubted that Trixie could be responsible for this reaction. The jovial head of design was everyone’s best friend, and she’d seen with her own eyes how much he respected Violet. So she must be talking about that other man, the tall one. Courtney’s eyes narrowed.  

*

“Couldn’t look at who?”

“Fuck!” Violet swore as she couldn’t get her stupid jacket to close properly. Her fingers felt numb, clumsy, useless, useless just like her, her mind spiraling, her world zoomed in on the button she couldn’t even manage to close, her mother's voice ringing in her ears, the sharp tone one she hadn't heard in months.

“Violet?”

Her mother would never call her Violet, the word said with a gentle question she knew Courtney could never manage.

Violet turned around, and right there, right in front of her, was Sutan.

*

Courtney twirled to the man who was standing in the door, fury welling up in her chest.

How dare he show up here in the office? She didn’t know what he'd done to Violet, but she could very well use her imagination.

She stepped between them, arms crossed, asking coldly, “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” the man said, his voice annoyingly calm. “You can step away for a couple of minutes so that I can talk to Violet.”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not going to be possible.” Courtney squared her shoulders, showing him she meant business.

The man let out a chuckle of disbelief before giving her a patient, charming smile.

“Listen, dear-”

“My name is not dear!” Courtney said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

He took a deep breath before trying a different tactic.

“Well, dear, I don’t know your name, but if you kindly fuck off for 5 minutes, then I’ll happily name my first born child after you.”

Courtney’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. She didn’t care, at the moment, if she got fired. She was not going to let this man intimidate her, or mess with Violet any more than he already had.

“I think you’re the one who needs to fuck off, sir. So back away right now or I’ll have to call securi-”

“Courtney.”

Courtney felt a hand on her arm, Violet’s slender fingers on her.

“Can you go get the coffees?” Violet had pushed her sunglasses into her hair, her dark eyes liquid with tears she barely managed to hold back. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” Courtney asked softly. She really didn’t want to leave Violet alone with this horrible man, but she also didn’t want to say no to her, not in this vulnerable state.

“Yes.” Violet pressed a sheet of paper with the coffee order into her hand. “And Miss Fame’s usual.”

“Okay. But...text me if you need anything.” Courtney picked up her phone and notepad, casting an extra dirty look at that asshole as she left the office.

[jmeelee]

If I try to bribe you with chocolate, will you come back and write something for BS? Just this once? 😆

Dear nonny,  I hope this is sweet enough for you!

______

Friday is John Silver’s favorite day to work at Max’s.  Chances are he won’t get off until after midnight, when the posh patrons have consumed their fill of cappuccinos and the ocean view, and stumble out of the fancy restaurant to continue their paradise vacations.  Normally, he’s deathly allergic to this brand of hard labor: fourteen hours on his feet, fake smiles, balancing a dozen glasses of wine on a flimsy serving tray.  The money is good, but that’s not what’s kept him waiting tables here for six months.

That would be James Flint, the pastry chef.

And tonight?  John Silver has a good feeling about tonight.  

***

“Don’t even think about stealing food off the plates,” Billy, the head waiter, tells him as he’s training on his first day.  “You only eat what’s served at four o’clock family meal.  See that old dude over there?”  He gestures toward a Sous Chef with greasy grey hair and a stained apron.  “That’s Randall.  If you even pilfer a potato, he’ll know.  He has a sixth sense or something.”

Silver takes in the bloodshot eyes of the man swaying on his feet like he’s standing on the deck of a rocking ship, instead of unmoving hard cement.  “More likely he’s just stoned and paranoid.”

Billy shrugs.  “Either way, no sticky fingers, or you’ll be fired.”  And Silver thinks he’ll have no trouble following this rule, until they pass the pantry and end up at the dessert station.

Silver’s mouth starts to water, but it’s not because of the sweets.

In front of him stands the sexiest mother fucker he’s ever laid eyes on.  Soft looking auburn locks are swept back from his forehead by a black bandana.  The sleeves of his double-breasted jacket are rolled up above his elbows, showcasing sun-kissed forearms that bear so many freckles they look like they’ve been dusted with cinnamon.  The man is bustling around his station, snatching flour and sugar, bending down to grab stainless steel bowls and a wooden rolling pin, his houndstooth pants stretching over thick thighs.  

“Who’s he?” Silver asks, voice several octaves deeper than it was when they toured the grill.  

But Billy doesn’t notice; he’s too busy shooting daggers at the pastry chef with his eyes while the man studiously ignores both of them.  “That’s James Flint.  Don’t bother getting to know him.  He’s a dickhead.”

John thinks he sees the corner of Flint’s mouth raise a fraction of an inch, but Billy is hustling him onto the dining floor too quick to be sure.  “What makes him a dick?” John asks as the kitchen doors swing shut behind them.  

“He’s worked here ten years, back before this place was even called Max’s.  But he doesn’t know any of our names.  The maitre d’ once told him I’d personally handle all the dessert runs at a wedding we were hosting, and the asshole looks Hal Gates straight in the face and says ‘Who the fuck is Billy?’  I was standing right there!  We’d worked together for six years!”  

Silver bites his lip to keep from laughing at Billy’s outrage.  “Seriously, ignore him like he ignores the rest of us. He doesn’t like anyone, and he can go fuck himself.”  Now that’s an image John’s going to store away for solo time tonight.

“He’s going to like me,” John vows with a sharp smile.

Billy’s blonde eyebrows jump to his hairline.  “And how the fuck do you think you’ll manage to make that happen?”

John shrugs.  “I’m a hard man not to like.”

***

It takes four full weeks of John’s killer smiles and cheery ‘good mornings’ for Flint to even look up from the bread dough he’s kneading.  Silver is so surprised he trips over his own feet and nearly face plants into the soup station.  Flint grunts out a small laugh, and goes back to punching the dough like he wishes it were John’s face connecting with his knuckles.

Progress.

***

By the second month Flint is grumping out a greeting in answer to John’s daily salutations, and by month three the entire waitstaff has nicknamed him the pastry whisperer.

“What’s that you’re making?”

“You can’t eat it,” James commands, never looking up from the tan sauce he’s methodically stirring.  “It’s peanut butter glacé.”  

“Not even a little lick?  For me?”  John seductively leans across the counter, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

“Fuck off you little shit.”  

***

Month four finds Flint explaining some of his recipes to Silver, who listens attentively because the shape of James’ mouth when it moves does things to him.  In month five Flint allows Silver to help him brown the sugar on his signature coffee creme brûlée.

John flicks on the mini blow torch.  “Wish I was blowing something else.”  He winks at James, whose ears turn as red as his hair.  

Progress.

***

John starts coming to work earlier and earlier during month six. Flint gets to work before the sun rises to start the bread and desserts and get them into the cooler, and he’s out at three o’clock, so if Silver wants to monopolize his time it needs to be early.  

“Are you trying to usurp Billy’s position as head waiter?” James jokes on the third morning Silver rolls in early.  John heads straight to the industrial sized coffee maker and brews an extra strong pot.  It’s a Friday, and weekend shifts always creep into the wee morning hours, but on Friday’s Flint usually strips off his apron and stays for family meal, sharing a dessert with the staff.  

Silver brings them both cups of steaming black coffee and sets up a stand, stacking trays lined with linen napkins so they’re ready for lunch service.  “No one could outshine the golden boy,” he replies.  

Flint laughs, the sound making Silver’s stomach flip.  “Maybe for Gates,” he allows.  “He loves Billy like a son.”

Silver turns on the charm.  “And who do you love?”

“I love peace and quiet, neither of which I’ve had since you started working here.”

John makes a rude sound with his mouth.

“Fuck me,” Flint curses, and for a moment Silver thinks it’s a request, but then he notices James scowling at the chocolate sauce he’s heating over a double broiler.  

“What’s the matter?” He asks, stepping behind the counter and checking the contents of the glass bowl.

“It’s dull,” James hisses, scraping the sides of the bowl with a spatula. “I was going to use it as a glaze for raspberry truffles, but the quality is too low.  They’ll look like lumps of shit.”  He dips his index finger into the bowl and holds it up, testing the glossiness under the bright fluorescent lights.  

John leans forward and wraps his lips around Flint’s finger to the second knuckle, swirling his tongue around the digit, sucking up all the chocolate and pulling off with an audible pop.

Flint is staring at him, pupils blown and slack jawed, as Silver lets out a pornographic moan.  “Tastes amazing,” he supplies, then grabs his stack of trays and saunters out into the dining room to refill the salt shakers.  

“That little shit,” he hears Flint’s awed curse as he exits the kitchen, wet hand dropping to grope the erection tenting his checkered pants.  

John smiles to himself as rich dark chocolate melts in his mouth.  Yeah.  Tonight is going to be a good night.  

[quantumghoul]

i wrote this a while ago, a rewrite of fox’s last interaction with father but didn’t post it bc institute fans used to be fuckin’ nuts. i’m sure they still are but the demons have returned to hell from where they came.

fox hates their monstrous son who deserves to be dying

warnings for misgendering, deadnaming, and mentions of dubious consent also idk if you find this child abuse bc they fuck him up a bit? he’s a 60 year old awful man but okay

“So, have you come to gloat?”

There he stood. He was waiting for them. Waiting to give them one last lecture, obviously. Most of his weight shifted on a cane, he still managed to shove his awful little finger in their face, and raise his awful voice to them. “Do you enjoy this? Ruining my life’s work? I gave you chance after chance. Despite your ties with the railroad. Your obvious activities to disrupt my work and the work of those here. I ignored it all, I gave you a position those here would die for. To lead the Institute into a better tomorrow. And this is how you repay me? I’m your son.”

There’s that famed guilt, it must be in the Houndstooth blood. He didn’t even have the blood. 'I don’t owe you anything.’ It’s what Fox wanted to say, it stained the back of their throat. They noticed Pat-- the Synth, watching them from the corner. As always. Diligent. It stayed in their throat. “I’m here to give you one last chance to actually help someone. I need your terminal, evacuation for the populous and deactivation codes for the synths. No one needs to die further.”

“No one needs to die further? You’re dooming it’s last, best, hope for humanity, right here, right now. Destroying the Institute-- there will never be anyone better than us. You think that those simpletons on the surface will ever come close to what we’ve accomplished? You decide to destroy everything because what, what reason? The synths. Those railroad people really did poison you, thinking they had any value to be saved. You are the one killing people right now. I have no reason to help you. To think such a thing.”

“Shaun, enough. Just give me access to the terminal, and the codes.” Why was their voice so quiet. They were shrinking. Into a corner. Just like with their father. He sounded so much like him, all the time. He’d be so proud. Eck.

“I gave you everything.” He motioned to the synth in the corner. Like he was an object. With Pat’s face and the implication, it all but made Fox’s stomach turn. “We could have been a family, we could have another chance. You stupid, selfish woman!”

That was enough. That broke what small self restraint that’d kept chained down. “Did you ever think to ask what I wanted?” They grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hoisted him right off his feet and into the air. He dangled, weak, frail body gasping and flailing his cane. Didn’t dare hit them. They’d hurt him worse for it. They pointed to the corner, to the synth. “Do you think I wanted this? Did he want this?! You didn’t ask us, either of us. We’re both just OBJECTS to you? Do you think I wanted some fucked up child version of you?

Pat stepped forward, hands raised. “Henrietta, I must advise against that. I am instructed that while your safety is of the most importance, prime directive refuses to let Father be hurt. I will have to hurt you.” There was hesitance as they pointed their claws at him.

“You, shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear you speak. I never want to hear you speak again. And you--” They gave Shaun a hard shake. “You don’t know anything. About me. You don’t care about me, I’m an experiment to you that you can’t even dare respect the identity of. I am doing what I am doing because no one has given me any choice, no one cares what I think or what I want to do. Not you, not the railroad, but at least in the wastes, I found something worth while.” 

They slammed him down against his desk, rattling and knocking everything off. Shoving him to the terminal. “I have given you enough chances. Enter the code, or I will have to try and make you. You’re weak, you’re old, you’re dying, and I’m not afraid of you. But I think I can make you afraid of me.”

“No.” They slammed his forehead against the pristine white surface. Blood splotching. And again. “They never will learn a better way of dealing with things on the surface, hmm? Not without us.”

Yet another crack to his skull. Going for the head when you needed someone to work a computer isn’t the best idea, but then again, Fox didn’t have the highest intelligence. Not as much as mister ego here. “You act like I’m dooming the surface to live in utter squalor, like they haven’t gotten along without you. Since when do you give a shit about the surface for anything other than your personal petri dish. Enough excuses. Do you care so little for your own people, or are you going to be so much like me to let them die out of spite?”

“I am already dying, as you pointed out, and I am sure you killed many of them. Why help furthering the destruction and stolen property. Not much logic with those muscles.”

Another crack against the desk.

“Fine-- fine. Enough. I will.” That seemed just as persuasive as whatever they might have said. He didn’t seem to have much tolerance for pain. Probably didn’t even know what a bullet wound felt like. (There was a creeping feeling in their gut, curling around their spine, reminding them to care, to feel, to-- something over him, that they should feel bad, but they ignored it.)

They kept a strong hand on his back, pressure keeping him down. The other hand with deathclaw gauntlet ready to tear through flesh, Pat still off in the corner of their eye. His hands slowly found their way to the keyboard, beginning to unlock the damn computer and go about doing what Fox had ordered him. Typing surprisingly slow. Clearly reluctant.

They scowled, muttering to themselves. Also him. 

He clicked his tongue. “Resorting to violence. The wastes truly did infect you.”

“Are you still-- are you still like this? Do you have to die on your high horse?”

“I am simply stating a fact. Let this old man have one last review of his experiment then. Since I am not your son.”

Teeth gritted. He had to salt the wound to the very end. “Fine, you want to be my son so bad? How about a bed time story, something to put you to sleep. And! It’s informative and helpful to you. I can tell you’re a boy who doesn’t like fiction. The story of sad little Henri Jones Houndstooth. Someone who had never been taught to say no. That poor... poor child.

“Her parents told her she was a girl, and she said yes.

“Her parents told her she should go into medicine, and she said yes.

“Her father told her she was a disgrace and unladylike and ugly, and she said yes. Her mother said she should be grateful they bothered to keep her, and she said yes.

“When asked if she liked men, she said yes.

“When he asked her to marry him, she said yes.

“She wasn’t very happy, mind you, through all her life. But. She thought. Perhaps she was the one at fault. Everyone else was always so happy, everyone else was always right. She was wrong, you see, and if she stuck around... if she spent enough time with these pretenses. She’d he happy just like them.

“And when he wanted a child, well… she didn’t say yes, that was for sure. But it happened anyway, didn’t it. You’re here, aren’t you?”

He was deathly silent. Hands hovering above the keyboard as Fox crooned in his ear. “That is the end of Henri Jones, you see, as she died soon after that. She didn’t want to go in a vault, you see, the idea there was so... trapped. Stuck. She’d never escape. But she didn’t know the word no. Never no, always yes. Vault-tec surely didn’t know the meaning of no, so it all worked out.”

“What a cruel person you are,” he turned his head slightly, eyes down to the floor. Not at them.

“You had to inherit it from somewhere.”

[sttngfashion]

Genesis - 7.19

It’s a fashion-light episode but it DOES involve Spot, so. 

We start with Riker in sickbay getting some sort of spiny plant removed from his back after things “started getting romantic” with him and another crew member in the arboretum. 

Fuck so hard I roll over dangerous plants and don’t give two shits

Nurse Ogawa is here, which is always a pleasure, and she’s rocking a seriously voluminous updo, sort of a 1940s meets 1990s sensible French twist. I’m sure she loves having to remove Riker’s sexytime plant spines. That’s definitely what she went to Starfleet Nursing Academy for. 

Barclay is also in sickbay, because: Barclay.

He literally claimed he had something called “Terellian Death Syndrome” which is honestly a terrible name for a syndrome

Beverly has asked him repeatedly not to search the medical database before coming to her (AKA Never Search WebMD), but of course Broccoli does. She’s got her gorgeous strawberry shortcake season 7 hair happening:

MFW Barclay shows up in sickbay for the third time this week

The other patient being tended to is also a beautiful redhead:

The laying on of hands

Spot is pregnant and at first I was like “HOW THE FUCK DID SPOT GET PREGNANT” but apparently a) there are 12 male cats on board and b) Spot has a tendency to sneak out of Data’s quarters.

Okay, listen.

1. If there are AT LEAST 13 cats on board, WHERE ARE THEY? I want a Bridge Cat.

Bridge Cat: artist’s rendering

2. HOW IS SPOT GETTING OUT? This is a fucking SPACESHIP. Shit should be LOCKED DOWN. It’s literally AIRTIGHT. I GUESS she could sneak through, like, a vent or something but if you’re going to have cats on board, you need to PLAN for their fuckery.

This could be really bad

3. If the cats are WANDERING THE SHIP, aren’t you worried they’re going to end up in the warp core? Or that even just their fur is? WHO IS VACUUMING UP ALL THE FUR.

Anyway, Crusher is apparently also a veterinarian (which I guess makes sense since she treats all sorts of species) and says that Spot should deliver her babies soon. Nurse Ogawa then says that she’s also pregnant! THIS WILL BE IMPORTANT LATER, which is the only reason she says it.

Also important for later:

Oh yeah gimme that t-cell injection

I’ll just tell you now that all the weird stuff that occurs in this episode is a result of Broccoli’s mutated t-cells after he gets this shot (or something). It’s (enjoyable) nonsense so don’t worry about it. I just wanted you to see how much he loved getting this hypospray.

Picard and Data have to drive through an asteroid field to get a stray torpedo (bad). Data asks Barclay to keep an eye on Spot, since she’s about to give birth, and she likes Barclay best of all the people on board. You can tell by the way she looks at him:

This IS my “I love you” face

Broccoli is pleased, because no one likes him.

WE’RE BEST FRIENDS NOW

It’s actually very sweet; Barclay even seems to know something about cats and asks Data where she’s planning to have her kittens.

With Barclay’s luck, she will have them inside his pants while he’s wearing them, somehow

I just really enjoy Data’s display case here, with his violin case juuuuust open enough to let all the dust in, but not quite enough to actually see the instrument.

Spot’s in good hands:

Yarn, Spot? You cliche

Elsewhere on the ship, Worf is having a fucking feast:

No I asked for a SIDE of tentacles

This looks delicious, actually. Giant turkey leg? Some kind of weird dried fish? Potato salad on a bed of green beans? I’m in. 

Troi shows up, a little upset that Worf didn’t wait for her, since they planned to have lunch together. He’s mean and it’s weird. You can already tell something STRANGE is happening on the ship, mostly because Troi is NOT wearing a jewel tone:

Eileen Fisher for Spacefleet

Drink this look in, kids, because it’s one of the two non-uniform looks in this episode. We can see here that I THINK Troi is wearing some Danskin shimmer tights with her beige on beige minidress and matching waterfall cardigan. The color is not what we usually see on her, but it’s not terrible (except for my pre-existing anti-beige bias). It’s certainly along the lines of what I wear when I’m lounging around.

Secret pajamas except it’s not a secret. It’s just pajamas I wear in public

Ed. note: I copied that picture of my cat Violet to my clipboard earlier when I was making the images above and I accidentally pasted it here and I can’t bring myself to delete it.

Troi’s hair has reached its astonishing season 7 pouf levels and I just love everything about it. Anyway, Worf is acting like a real dick, but we do get another good look at those Ten-Forward outfits.

IS THAT HOUNDSTOOTH

If I ever attend another con, that’s going to be my look because houndstooth is everything to me.

Later, Worf’s dickishness turns into something MORE:

I’M A DICK ON A RAMPAGE

This scene is super dark and it’s not totally clear what’s happening, but Worf basically just destroys his own quarters, including his pillows, then cuddles up with them on the floor. We do get a decent look at Worf’s jammies, which are brown and might be made of varying colors of burlap.

If anyone was gonna wear burlap pajamas, it would be the Klingons

I’m not sure what’s going on with that shoulder detail, but it can’t be that comfortable to sleep in? But again - Klingons aren’t exactly a culture that considers “comfort” to be something to aim for. If you showed a Klingon an Aerosole, he would 100% cut it in half and throw the halves in your face.

These PJs might also be linen, which would be WAY nicer to sleep in, but a little off-brand. I mean, a Klingon in linen? Can you imagine? Hold on, you don’t have to:

Pure white to better show off the blood of my slain enemies

So everyone is acting weird. Troi is like “I’m cold. I need a bath,” and walks off the bridge. The next time we see her, this is happening:

Deanna, sweetie? It’s more relaxing if you take your uniform off

As she’s taking her fully-clothed bath, Worf busts in and:

CHOMP

It’s actually very upsetting, and at first neither of them even really know how to react either:

Oh god did I just bite you

Did you just fucking BITE me??????

Troi goes to sickbay, where she gets my favorite disco blanket:

Disco Blanket: Because why shouldn’t a blanket be iridescent

To be fair, emergency blankets ARE shiny, so.

You better believe that’s an affiliate link, friend

Okay so THEN Crusher is examining Worf and she asks him to open his mouth and HOO BOY was that a mistake.

Does the replicator not have the recipe for Listerine, or

He SPRAYS her like a fucking dilophosaurus!! 

NOT IN THE FAAAAAAAAAACE

Later someone says her injuries were so bad that SHE WILL NEED RECONSTRUCTIVE SURGERY. That means in every episode after this (not many, but still), we are seeing a RECONSTRUCTED BEV. 

So everyone is losing it, basically, which doesn’t explain why Broccoli thinks this is a normal way to stand:

Is this how a human? Does a stand? How is stand

Finally, Picard and Data come back, and when they arrive, the Enterprise is just adrift. They board and find this:

Sir, if the t-shirt does not spark joy when you touch it, the book counsels you to throw it away. I was unable to apply this method as I do not feel joy, nor any other emotion

It’s the shed skin of a reptile, which: whaaaaaat? Ain’t no reptiles on this ship!

Narrator: actually, there were reptiles on this ship

Troi is still in the bathtub when Picard and Data find her, and she is like, half lizard because the t-cells released when Barclay got that hypospray are making everyone de-evolve. Sure. She looks terrible, which is a real feat since Marina Sirtis is such a Betty:

Honestly she’s still p hot

I think my favorite part of this makeup is the gecko-like fingertips. Excellent detail. Love the scales, love the contacts, love the unripe banana shade of green they used. All great. 

Data and Picard go check out what else is happening, and they find a caveman at one of the control panels:

Not a Starfleet regulation haircut

But what’s this? It’s not a caveman at all! It’s...

I heard dramatic eyebrows were back in

...Riker! I guess! The makeup on Frakes here is SO heavy that it’s not immediately apparent that it’s Riker, except that he’s wearing command red and has a beard. Plus, Picard says “Will?” upon this reveal. 

FUCK YOU GUYS

I’m saving this as my “flipping the bird” image to use forever.

Data and Picard manage to subdue Riker and get him to sickbay, after which they go to Data’s quarters to use his computer. But guess what happened?

KITTENS

Spot had her babies! They’re legit VERY small kittens and very cute. Data says they’re hungry, and wonders why Spot isn’t taking care of them. And then comes one of the best shots since chicken in the hallway:

Sup

IT’S AN IGUANA WEARING SPOT’S COLLAR. SPOT DEVOLVED INTO LITERALLY JUST AN IGUANA. I laughed so hard at this shot and I REALLY wanted the kittens to interact with the iguana, but they didn’t. I don’t know if that iguana was even on set.

LOL

Data notes that the kittens didn’t turn into baby iguanas, so he thinks maybe there’s some kind of cure for the devolution from pregnancy? Or something? This is where Nurse Ogawa’s recently-announced pregnancy comes into play. So he goes to sickbay, and Picard goes to see what’s going on in Engineering, and finds:

Help meeee

Barclay devolved into, like, a spider? I guess? Because this gene mutating thing is just nuts and does whatever the effects people think will look cool. (And they all do look pretty cool.)

Nurse Ogawa has devolved into Standard Neanderthal #4:

On loan from the American Museum of National History

And finally, the big boss: Worf. Worf turned into something with an exoskeleton that was able to make this dent in the sickbay door:

Rude

Picard and Data speculate that Worf thinks Troi is his mate (sure) and he’s trying to get through the door to her, so they synthesize her pheromones to draw Worf away from sickbay so that Data can focus on making a cure with Nurse Ogawa’s pregnancy hormones. Obviously. But first Picard has to get out of sickbay.

PEEK

Picard manages to lure away the Worf-monster, which looks like this:

Part beetle, part conch shell, all covered in chocolate

It’s hard to see what’s happening but what you can see is just really gnarly:

Are there horny toads on Klingon?

Ultimately, Data is successful in making a cure and sends it through the air ducts so everyone on board is fine. And when Barclay finds out that it was his treatment that started it all, and that he might have a disease named after him:

A hypochondriac’s dream

And don’t forget: THERE ARE AT LEAST 13 CATS ON THE ENTERPRISE

[theartificialdane]

Nebula: The Courtney chronical

A/N: The Year: 2004. The Place: Brisbane, Australia. Baby Courtney is 11 years old. And she has her first crush. And it is not going well…

(Special thanks to @samrull for providing the inspiration for Courtney’s obsessive desires.)

Written by @veronicasanders ❤️

***

Loving someone from afar was hard work. Ever since Isabelle’s family had moved in the summer before, Courtney had been praying, wishing, hoping against all hope that the older girl would notice her. Would talk to her. Would look in her direction for more than a passing, dismissive glance.

Courtney loved everything about her. From the red streaks in her platinum blonde hair, to her wide hazel eyes, to her sarcastic laugh, to the dimples that appeared in her cheeks when she flashed her crooked smile. She loved how Isabelle didn’t give a fuck what the “popular” kids did, but instead had her own style, her own interests, her own laissez-faire attitude. She kept a leather-bound journal and used to scribble in it angrily, glaring at people when they pissed her off. She told one particularly dickheaded boy in their neighborhood that she was a witch, after she saw him push his sister down a hill. Helping the girl up, she stared at him with daggers in her eyes, swearing to curse him for all eternity unless he apologized.

She was everything.

Of course, a girl like that - the epitome of cool, the queen of counter-culture - that girl had no use for Courtney. Who never spoke up, who never made trouble. Never stood out in any way. Courtney was everything Isabelle was not. Ordinary. Vanilla. Boring.

And then, one day, at the start of Summer holiday, a miracle happened. A bone-fide Christmas miracle. Courtney’s parents decided to take her brother to Sydney to look at colleges (as if Ben was going to college. Courtney’s parents meant well, but they were a little slow on the uptake sometimes), and voila! Suddenly she was staying with Isabelle’s family. Sleeping on a twin bed in her room. For five. Whole. Days.

***

“I hate ALL my clothes!” Isabelle moaned, tossing yet another outfit dramatically to the ground. “I have literally NOTHING to WEAR! This fuckin’ SUCKS!”

Courtney bit her lip. She wanted to offer a solution, but wasn’t 100% sure how a drag closet would be received. “Um...we could go to my house. Ben has some pretty cool shit.”

“Boy clothes?” Isabelle looked skeptical.

“Well...not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s sort of hard to explain.”

Isabelle narrowed her eyes and sighed, exasperated. “Alright, Miss Mysterious. Let’s go.”

Butterflies filled Courtney’s stomach as they walked outside, through the garden, across the narrow creek, up the hill to Courtney’s house. Courtney led her up the steps to Ben’s room, where giant, dramatic black letters warned them to “KEEP OUT OR SUFFER THE DIRE CONSEQUENCES!!!!!!!!” She pushed open the door, feeling more nervous about Isabelle in her house then invading her brother’s sacred personal space.

She slid open the mirrored closet door, revealing the two-third’s of the closet where Ben kept all of his drag stuff. Sequins and feathers and lace...fringe and sparkles and pleather and fishnets. Rows of heels on the floor below the clothes, and stacks of wigs and boxes of jewelry on the shelves above, along with his extensive makeup collection.

Isabelle’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “This is your BROTHER’S stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“So...your brother is gay?”

“Um...yeah.”

Isabelle considered this for a moment, and then nodded approvingly. “That’s cool as.”

Courtney felt a sense of relief wash over her, pride replacing her edgy nerves. “He does my makeup and stuff all the time.”

“Really?! You’re sooo lucky. All my brother cares about is surfing and his dumb motorbike.”

Courtney gestured grandly to the closet. “Well...you can try some of his stuff on if you want.”

Soon enough, they’d both concocted entirely new ensembles. Isabelle in a shiny copper halter top and houndstooth shorts, and Courtney in the more ridiculous outfit that Isabelle had insisted on: a padded, sequined bra and pleather mini-skirt with a fringed bolero jacket. After Isabelle used Ben’s prized palette to add some color to Courtney’s face, all that was left was loading themselves up with every piece of jewelry Ben owned, before collapsing, giggling, onto his bed.

Isabelle gazed around the room at all the pictures on Ben’s walls. She smiled appreciatively at his Moulin Rouge poster, and then her eyes lit up at the shrine to Robbie Williams over his desk.

“Your brother has good taste. I’d give anything to pash Ewan. Or Robbie.”

Courtney nodded in agreement, though she wasn’t sure she saw the allure, exactly. Although she had to admit that Ewan was at least relatively cute, compared to most boys she knew.

“You ever pashed anyone, Courtney?” Isabelle had a slightly teasing lilt to her voice. As if she already knew the answer.

Courtney bristled a little. She was determined not be seen as a baby. “Yes,” she lied.

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “Really? Who?”

Thinking quickly, Courtney answered, “Greg.” The tall, soft-spoken boy on her cheer team was always nice to Courtney, and he was clean and didn’t smell nearly as bad as most of the other boys in her class. If she was gonna have to pash any boy, it may as well have been him.

Isabelle burst out laughing. “You sure love the homos, Court. Greg is gay as mardi gras.”

Courtney felt her cheeks heat up. She cleared her throat, racking her brain to try and divert the attention away from herself. “Have...have you pashed anyone?”

“Nope!” Isabelle said. “I want my first time to be magical. Like in the movies. My friends think I’m weird but I don’t care.”

“I...I don’t think that’s weird.” Courtney suddenly wished she hadn’t lied. “I think it’s cool.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not just leaving it up to fate, though. I practice a lot.”

“How do you practice?”

“Like...you know...on your hand, or a pillow, or...you know, with your friends.”

“Your friends?”

Isabelle flashed a crooked smile, revealing those dimples that Courtney wanted to reach out and touch. It took all her strength to keep her hands to herself. “You know...like...girls don’t count. That’s just like, so you can get good at it for when it’s time to kiss a boy. Like, for real.”

Courtney’s palms began to get sweaty, and her mouth was dry as chalk. She swallowed.

“Of course, you don’t need practice, since you’re already an expert. You and Greeeeg.” Isabelle winked and Courtney thought she might die of embarrassment.

“I...may have lied about that,” she whispered.

“No shit,” Isabelle replied, hazel eyes glittering with delight.

Courtney focused away from her eyes, on her shoulders, tanned a deep caramel from the summer sun, such an enticing color that Courtney had a desire to lick her. She heard rustling and felt Isabelle moving closer to her on the bed. She looked up, saw her plush, round, plum-colored lips. She wondered if they would taste like the watermelon candy they’d eaten earlier.

“Do you want me to show you?” Isabelle asked, one finger just barely touching her chin.

Courtney prayed that she didn’t appear overly enthusiastic when she nodded, closing her eyes. And then Isabelle’s soft, moist lips were on hers, and her fingertips itched, tentatively reaching out to graze her bare midriff, circling her waist, just as Isabelle lifted her head.

“Okay, now, remember, I’m the boy,” Isabelle reminded her, rolling Courtney onto her back. “So you need to follow my lead. This time, you gotta open your mouth.”

Courtney nodded, glassy-eyed. At that point she would’ve followed her off a cliff. Her lips parted eagerly and Isabelle slipped her tongue inside, shifting the weight of her body so that she was pressing Courtney down into the mattress.

Hands cupping Courtney’s face, Isabelle murmured soft instructions to her. “Rub your tongue against mine...suck on my bottom lip...squeeze my butt…” Courtney tried to hear and follow as she floated through the clouds, ecstatic and breathless by the sheer proximity of their bodies, bare skin of their bellies pressed together, the scent of her strawberry shampoo.

Skin flushed and burning, Courtney arched her body up, rolling her hips, lifting her knees, rubbing against the older girl, in a state of utter lust, until she was slammed back into reality by the sound of laughter, Isabelle rolling away. “Damn, Courtney. You’re a little nympho, aren’t you?”

Courtney raised herself onto her elbows, panting, hair falling into her eyes. She tried to catch her breath, watching Isabelle straighten her top and fix her lipstick, at a loss for words.

“It’s cool if I borrow these clothes, right? I’m meeting Megan and Zoe at the mall.”

“Y-yeah. It’s cool.”

“Great. See you later!”

***

By dinnertime, Courtney was still too embarrassed to join the family. She told Mrs. Peterson that she had a stomachache. Did Isabelle think she was...what did Isabelle think?

It turned out that her fears were for naught. Isabelle didn’t seem to think anything at all about her. She spent the next few days out with her friends, mostly, and when Courtney’s mom came to pick her up that Saturday, she merely gave her a casual wave and a “see you around,” barely looking up from the fashion magazine in her lap.

They didn’t see each other much over the next school year, either, since Isabelle was in the High School and Courtney was still in Primary. It was probably for the best when her family moved again the following summer. After seeing her boyfriend dropping her off a few times, Courtney knew that there would be no more “practicing” required, and she couldn’t bear those knowing smirks Isabelle would toss her way on the rare occasion she actually acknowledged her existence. Like she KNEW something.

She didn’t know anything.

With Isabelle gone, it was much easier for Courtney to paint on a smile and be the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the little angel that everyone wanted her to be. And over the next few years, the sharp pain Courtney felt every time she thought about the older girl faded into a dull ache, a small, insignificant scar on her psyche that she barely remembered, a part of who she was without ever thinking about it.

Although occasionally, the kissing lessons did come in handy.

[swearronchanel]

IT’S BEEN A WHILE

I haven’t actually watched Call the Midwife in so long ahh! The end of the semester has been kicking my ass but good news, this is my last week of class & I only have 2 finals next week! So I’ll be able to relax a bit and go back to being ctm trash™ later next week + I also convinced my mom to buy the books so I can read those when I get home too. Anyways, I have a break in between my second and last class & instead of being productive/working on all the assignments I have due this week I’m going to watch 4.06 (I closed my eyes and picked from the episode guide lol) because it’s been far too long! 😭👏🏼📺 ✨ here goes nothing, I’m officially back to annoying you all with my commentaries™ 💁🏼

Sister Mary Cynthia! 💔💛 miss her

“The religious life isn’t one I could’ve chosen”  LOL me neither,  I’m too much of a degenerate

Sister J tucking in Sister Mc’s hair, bless

“..Poisons my brain and contaminates my dreams” poor sister MJ! She’s ill😭 what does she have a uti or something?

PHYLLIS!!

Omg sister Evangelina is coming back, my heart 💔💔 I’m still sad about it

lol Phyllis telling Tim he’s shooting up, what a Phyllis thing to say

Growing pains, lol shut up Tim

“Pass me the Rolodex” You know Phyllis is about to get shit done

Paulette sitting in her dressing gown lol, she’s a little angsty & bitchy I love it

Since you know that’s more accurate representation of a teenager than Tim is😭😂 or at least me

Peter out here policing, guess we’ll see some irrelevant constables next series if needed since he’s out, lol bye 💁🏼

Ah yes the square dance!

“Hello pats!” They’re precious

SISTER E😭💔💖

Aw Shelagh! She was so excited to see sister E

Also she just looks angelic as always

I MISS THE SISTER E & PHYLLIS INTERACTIONS !! They were both so head strong & they clashed sometimes but I loved it.

Now I’m sad..

Sister Winifred with the best cringey faces as always

Look at the gremlins playing with Phyllis’s hubcaps 😂

Fred with the cdc squad 😂

Violet and Fred’s relationship is so pure !! But they’re not *really* together yet right? Whateves I love it

Aw baby Angela

“Hello Nurse” 😘😍😉  same Patrick

We all know Patrick quickly discovered a kink for a uniform he never knew he had 😏

Don’t we all though😂 Some uniforms just make people look more attractive😏😂😂

“We have half a dozen ulcer patients..” ULCERS COCKBLOCKING THE TURNERS SINCE 1960!!

Bet Shelagh didn’t remember dismissing that comment in the tent though

Trixie & Sister MC going out to patients together >>

Attracta is such a COOL NAME

Like it sounds fierce 😂 like Tiberius. Or Severus Snape

BUT ALSO I GET ANNOYED LOOKING AT HER BECAUSE SHE PISSED ME OFF AS VERA IN DOWNTON !!  

Anyways..

The grandmother is so cute omg 😭

Trixie and Patsy smoking in their pyjamas is my aesthetic

Still want all of Trixie’s pyjamas & whole wardrobe!

Aw the nurses laughing at phyllis😂😭 mean af

Omg she hears them! my heart😭💔

BUT DONT WORRY BECAUSE EVERYONE LOVES PHYLLIS AND TAKES HER ADVICE SOON ENOUGH

#DontFuckWithPhyllisAndHerAdoptedNurseChildren

“I go off my food when I’m upset and you keep upsetting me!

Ugh the worst is when you’re just dry heaving and spitting up bile😖 **I’ve never had morning sickness/been pregnant so I don’t really know but it’s prob just as bad or prob worse than drinking too much liquor 😂

Shelagh in her uniform holding Angela 😭😍 they’re both adorable

Are shoelaceless to Fred & Violet what cigarettes were to Dr Turner & Sister Bernadette? 🤔

So Fred and Patrick were both in WWII, why is the only conversation we’ve seen between them about it was on the shorts? 😂😂

SISTER E’S FACE EXUDING SALTINESS WHEN DR TURNER ASKED FOR PHYLLIS ON THE PHONE😂😂    

lol why do I think “in the family way” is a funny phrase?

Damn she’s pregnant though, like she really needs birth control so she doesn’t die

Her mum really called her a slut like *kelly from the office voice* number one how dare you?? & number two that was a bitch move

What’s borstal? Is it like Juvi ?

“You might benefit from a cigarette” same probably, the stress is real

I felt smart knowing it would be dangerous for Paulette since she’s diabetic (also: i learned it young watching steel magnolias😂 I hate that I cried in that movie)

This cute grandma aw 😭😭💖 she’s dying

Same though, I feel like every Hispanic girl gets gold earrings when they’re like babies. But for no real significance 😂 had my ears pierced since I was 6 weeks old and been wearing gold earrings foreves

11th pregnancy diablo, I’d die

Phyllis addressing herself as a spinster bc she’s so badass and gives 0 fucks – I love her

He brought back the hubcaps 👏🏼

Phyllis is legit a gem, she doesn’t judge & she actually cares

“When somebody thinks the worst of a person because of their background, such a lot can be lost”

PREECH PHYLLIS 🙌🏻🙏🏼 SO MUCH TRUTH

“It didn’t stop me from making something out of myself” I LOVE HER SO MUCH 💖

Fred asking out Violet, so pure. They are so cute😂😭

        Oh shit brb I have class in 5mins😂 gotta blast                   *Please pardon the interruption*

        Ok I’m back

Paulette’s pink suit is cute af tbh💁🏼

“I’m not your mother kid, if I were, I would do some things differently..” PHYLLIS ADOPT ME PLS

aww my bby shelagh is tired 😭💔

Remember this nightgown though? Yea neither did I😂 why is it so long? Whateves, glad she upgraded to the bri-nylon😏

“No one is invincible” “No, they aren’t” 😭👏🏼🙏🏼 they both know that ahh😔

Aww the nun squad pulling through to help Shelagh out

“I think my eyes will not permit it, indisposition has dimmed them” LMAO SISTER MJ IS LITERALLY ME WITH MY FINAL ASSIGNMENTS

“Thank goodness I am used to the vow of obedience.. I still have hard days with it even now..”

“You Mark my words, the joy of midwifery never dims”

Omg there’s something in my eye or I’m freaking crying I miss sister Evangelina!! remembering she died after tending to one last baby ugh my heart it was great but also not bc hello she died💔💔

I JUST REMEMBERED PEGINE DIES, I’M GOING TO BE MORE SAD

“..until I give my permission!” YES SISTER MC YOU YELL AT EVERYONE!!

So you’re gonna tell me no one saw Paulette leave the maternity home or that no one snitched on her?

After giving birth 11 times wouldn’t they just slip out by now😭😂 yikes I can’t imagine that pain 11x.. or imagine having 11 kids😂

This old woman is so precious

this montage >>

Shelagh singing in chapel with the nuns makes me so happy😭💖

Also where did this dress go cause I don’t remember ever seeing it again?

Is it a British thing or just a thing of the past that little boys always wore shorts?? Like it gets cold! 😂

PEGINE is dead 😭

Did Paulette not think about this before hand?? Like you know you’re diabetic and need to keep your blood sugar up??

My bby Trixie looking good™ even in that big skirt😍 haven’t seen much of her this episode 😔

“I brought bourbon, sort of an American Scotch”  Delia is my kind of gal pulling up with a bottle😂

But I don’t drink bourbon like um I’m not a middle aged business man who cheats on his wife 😂

“Do call me Phyllis.. just for this evening!” 😂 I love her. But seriously look how far she’s come! They were laughing at her and strictly on last name basis, now she’s been hanging out with the nurses and was Babs’s bridesmaid😭💛

Why didn’t Vaughn just bring Paulette with him back to town?

Vi defending Fred from the Cubs is cute 😂

Square dance lit, why is it the funniest but greatest thing to me though??

My other bby SHELAGH LOOKS SO GOOD TOO!😍 we were cheated of a closer shot

I approve of the dress! It looks like gingham but I’m not sure, maybe houndstooth??. Either way - Where is it!? Bring it back out in summer!

“I want to dance with you” aw deels

They’re setting the cart on fire 😭 rip pegine😭

Vaughn used his one call in jail on Phyllis, like same

SHE’S SO GREAT

So does she have the abortion or not? I’m confused.

Okay I think she does never mind

They gave Sister MC the tea cup😭💔 my heart

aw Shelagh putting on Tim’s hat and sending him off to school, so pure

“We are shaped by the hands we hold in ours and cherish and gently let go”

Ah Vanessa always ending the episodes right with the feels😭😭

I’ll forever love the narration/writing of the show 👏🏼👏🏼💛💛 literally the best.

The end 😭💔 wow I’ve missed this

[mylustaddiction]

The store

I remember sometime in July of 2007 you had a houndstooth skirt on. It wasn’t a short onebut it’s wasn’t long you Also had on a white silky shirt. I picked you up from a gathering you asked to stop at Kmart over on 17, back then that shit was 24hrs.

We walked around till we got to the shoe isle I sat down on the bench with mirror on it while u tried on dress shoes . You bent over in front of me while trying on a pair. and I slide my my hand up the back of you thigh, by the time i got to the bottom of ya ass you slap my hand real fast and laughed.

I immediately became hard. We got up and walked around some more I kept grabbing your hand to touch my hard dick. We walked over to the woman’s section in the back of the store. you bent down in front of me and bit my dick softly over my sweatpants teasing me. You did it twice, the second time making eye contact with me.

When you stood up I put my arm around your neck while you was turned looking straight. That’s when i licked your neck and I whispered can’t wait to bring you home. You took my right hand that was grabbing your breast and sucked my index finger and said why wait till we get home. You walked me back to the shoe isle told me sit down and said you’ll be back.

I sat there and waited for you with my dick harder then it’s ever been. When you came back you bent over in front of me again. I reached to touch your ass and I as I went up I touched your soaking wet pussy lips from the back. you had taken your panties off I knew then it was happening.

We fucked plenty times before but never in public and never raw. You whispered to me pull it out and I did. you grabbed a pair of shoes and sat on me. My dick slide in you’re drenched pussy so slow and smooth. As you pretended to look at the shoes while you slow grinded on me. we tried our hardest to do it slow and unnoticed. but it was to hard for us to. you drop the shoes and ass I kissed your neck and ran my hands up your thigh and played with your nipple ring, you began to ride faster and harder. You bit on my forearm to stop yourself from making to much nosie from moaning. I roughly wishpwrd baby I’m I’m cumming you told me I want you too........

You don’t remember that day in Kmart????

[2centsofsilver]

1/27

It’s 2:09 AM- Figured I’d blog! Tomorrow I have a 10-6pm all-day company training as a new employee at BGC. I’m not nervous where I would be with my old job at NR. I don’t know anyone so that’s why I’m not nervous. I have a feeling they don’t waste time with icebreakers or see real value in them. I could be wrong, it’s just a hunch. Today I literally slept all day. I slept through all my alarms, through therapy, all the way up until I had to leave for work. I taught my very last class today for YR and announced to the kids (my favorite school/class/group of kiddos) that it was my last day. They acted disappointed/sad and asked lots of questions. We took pictures and they said, “because you’re going to miss us?!” I wore my new LulaRoe maxi which is gorgeous. It’s the first time I’ve ever worn a skirt in public! This clothing line has brought me such joy and confidence and this teaching job has reduced a large chunk of my fear of public speaking. I’ll miss the parents, the staff, and the kids. I made a friend through work who I hang out with occasionally and talk to on FB all the time. My bosses also live in my hometown which is pretty neat. I taught at a school in Portage, Vicksburg, and Comstock and subbed in Galesburg and Vicksburg as well. Generally speaking, I didn’t really support the way in which they trained us to teach the lessons and I wanted out since Day 1. I don’t believe in “Wine and Canvas” art - the step-by-step “this is how we draw a line,” everyone’s should look the same in the end stuff. I wasn’t supposed to allow the kids to customize their own drawings or I could get in trouble, but I usually found a way to get around that rule. Today the lesson was Emojis. It consisted of 2 faces, a robot, a pizza, a trophy, and a crown. I let the kids choose whatever shapes they wanted for the jewels on the crown and I let them choose their favorite pizza toppings. Yesterday one of the kids I struggle most with ended up adding a tremendous amount of very concerning violent details to his picture. I’ll probably talk to my supervisors about it, but I didn’t really have time to approach the parent yesterday. I didn’t hang it up on the wall though. The new replacement teacher will certainly have his/her hands full! My 21 Day Fix program has sorta been slipping, but I’m trying not to see it that way. It’s really hard to maintain when you have issues sleeping/waking up. I shop at Aldi now and I love how healthy their selection of foods is. I’m able to find super healthy snacks and meals and am no longer struggling to get green and red containers in. For example, my friend from downstairs came over a few days ago and we spent a short hour of her teaching me how to make turkey burgers before we went to the gym. Now I can make turkey burgers and count those as protein. I also make/found healthy vegetable chips at Aldi, steamable off-brand broccoli, and frozen microwaveable kale burgers I can use for green containers and I’m also planning on making health shakes (in addition to Shakeology; or potentially dropping Shakeology all together). The hardest part is giving nutrition AND fitness my all every week. I can give one or the other my all. I’m working on my sleep schedule and working to give both my all. Making mistakes and shooting for “grey scale” (moderated) goals is not my strong suit. I’m hosting my first LulaRoe pop-up party on Sunday alongside my consultant from San Francisco who I’ve grown to become friends with over the last few months. The co-worker friends at BT where my position was eliminated in November introduced me to LR. They don’t talk to me anymore, but I’ve thanked them for introducing me to this amazing clothing line (god I sound like a promoter/marketer/fake ass seller), but it’s true. Anytime I talk to people and tell them how much I love it or invite them to the pop-up I feel like I’m trying to sell it, but that’s not the case. I have never been into shit like this in my life and have always considered it super stupid lol. Example: Jewelry parties, tubberware parties, etc. Not my thing. The first time I ever heard of LR was through an old NR employee and I was very much not interested. But at BT I was able to feel and get a good look at the clothing and then I attended an in-person LR party with those co-workers where I literally tried on just under 50 outfits. That day I spend more than $300 dollars and little did I know, developed a fast-moving addiction. Little did I know, my income would go down to practically nothing and just a few months later I’d be in a financial crisis (from too much LR plus the loss of my steady job leaving only one super part-time job bringing in literally $75 a week with only monthly paychecks).  But so far, I’ve accumulated over 30 LR items: I’ve won 3 pairs of leggings, purchased 3 others, 3-4 Irmas, 3 Cassies, 4 Carlys, 1 Nicole, 1 Ameila, 1 Lola, 2 Lindseys, 1 Randy, 1 Perfect-T, 3-4 Maxis, 1 Joy, and 1 Sarah. With my pop-up this weekend and a handful of friends who have told me they’ll likely buy 1-2 items, I’m hoping to get some free stuff. I plan to pick out some solid color Irmas to go with all these amazing skirts, and a Julia (if possible) to go with my new Lola. In all honesty, I kind of want to gift some free items to some friends. LR has CHANGED MY LIFE for the better in the following ways -INCREASED CONFIDENCE -Leading to INCREASED HAPPINESS -Increased positivity -General feeling good about myself and appearance day-to-day -Finally feel included in something trending -Finally can wear cute clothes everyone else is wearing/can wear -HUGE MOTIVATOR FOR WEIGHT LOSS this year -Realizing I do have a body type capable of beautiful clothes -True self-expression -Developing personal unique style -Able to share that with others without validation -Capable of achieving that style (knowing how I want to look and finding the clothes that fit that) It’s an amazing way for someone who struggles with social anxiety (appearance to others) and inner depression (self-loathing) to increase quality of life and feel good. At first I was concerned that the clothes looked cheap/fake (such as printed leggings; totally not my thing, or striped/bright leggings or shirts with rainbows and animals and stuff on them- yuck). But I’m finding it’s totally possible to find prints that are my own unique style: old-school navy/red/forest green plaid skirts, traditional houndstooth, black and navy checkered shirts/cardigans, super earthy designs (not just plain shirts with printed flowers, but actual earthy natural patterns and fabrics), patchwork designs, vintage, retro, whatever you like really. I’m super drawn right now to the gorgeous bohemian Lola skirts. I can’t get enough! The whole “Catholic school girl” look is something I’m also like shyly obsessed with. I think I’m going to go to bed now. I have all-day company training in the morning and given I slept all day (till work then after work till 10:30pm), I actually woke up at 10:30 thinking it was 10:30am (half-past the time I’m supposed to be to the meeting in Northeast Kzoo tomorrow). I completely flipped my shit, jumped out of bed in my normal “fuck I slept through an obligation” daze, ran to the bathroom, said “I slept in my entire outfit, fine, I’ll just wear this” and “shit, no time to eat, that’s fine, I’ll just starve”) till I realized it was dark outside. I strained my eyes to look at that 10:32 time on my clock. “PM” it said. I closed my eyes, relieved. Heart had been pounding. “What will I say? ‘I’m so sorry! I thought it was at 11′” Lies upon lies had filled my delirious head in a matter of a few seconds. But no, PM. Thank the fictional god for that one. Peace, Love, Happiness, Strong Girl Trying in 2017