#it looks so much better with my real hair than the cheap wig i got

[silversoulstardust]

I hope I won't get heatstroke in Paris next week

[qzwrites]

daniil/yakov AU pt.1

i'm out of control; here's a daniil/yakov AU

---

Being fat was not actually a substitute for having boobs, but it did make it a little easier and more convincing, with the right application of undergarments. Daniil thought he looked pretty sexy, actually. His wig was cheap and bad, but there was only so much he could do about that. At least he had enough practice with makeup to do a nice job.

Daniil hoped some of the other guys actually did dress up like girls, too, or he'd feel really silly. Not silly enough not to go; he was sure he'd be able to pick up girls dressed like this, at least. Kavagoran women were starved for men in makeup. He wasn't sure what drove that impulse exactly, but if it got him laid, he wouldn't complain.

He ran into Nastasya on his way out of the house. She looked pained. "Danny," she said. "You can't go out looking like that."

"I can and I will," Daniil said, and left the oldest of his younger sisters looking constipated in the hallway.

Daniil was not the only one of the guys to go through with it, although he was by far the one who had done the best job, bad wig notwithstanding. Maksim Kasharik had turned up in some galactic mini-dress and spike heels, but he hadn't done anything about his hair or chest. He looked hot as fuck, but he also didn't really look like he was in drag; he looked like some sophisticated off-worlder from a culture that didn't view mini-dresses as exclusively women's clothes. The other boys were in more or less passable drag--Mikhail had hidden his hair in one of those scarves Southern women wore, but his makeup was dreadful, while Ivan Khurenev had leaned into the camp of bad drag, while somehow excising the camp.

As Daniil predicted, the girls loved it, and someone rushed upstairs to exchange his bad wig for a better one from Stasia's bedroom. The cut was horribly out of date, but with the loan of a hair tie and some judicial loose locks, it was miles better than the cheap party wig Daniil came with.

He was dancing with some girls and their boyfriends when Maksim sidled up to him. Maksim put his mouth right up against Daniil's ear and asked, "Do you think we could get anyone to explode if we made out dressed like this?"

Daniil laughed. "If by 'explode' you mean--"

Maksim rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Yes, thank you, that was my implication," he said, using his hands on Daniil's hips to turn him more facing him. "Oh, hello," he said, looking down. "These are real."

Daniil laughed again. He traced one finger along his cleavage. "Real cleavage, anyway," he said. "I've got two bras helping me out."

"They look great," Maksim said, forgetting to be performatively sexy as he cupped one. "Oh, I see, it's all this out here that's fake. That's clever!"

"Thanks," Daniil said. He draped his arms over Maksim's shoulders. Maksim was usually just a bit taller than him, but the heels added several additional inches."You look good like this."

"Please," Maksim said, rolling his eyes, "I'm wearing a stretchy tube of black fabric and heels, anyone would look good in this."

"I wouldn't," Daniil said.

Maksim laughed. "Fine, anyone skinny would look good in this," he said. "You have the advantage of actual curves and real cleavage." He ran his hands down Daniil's sides to rest them on Daniil's hips again. He leaned in so his next words would be harder to overhear. "Were you going to go for a girl tonight, or see if any of these other guys get drunk enough to forget to pretend they're not into you?"

Daniil shrugged, and was gratified to see Maksim's attention drift down to his bared chest. "It's early still," he said.

"Fair enough," Maksim said, but did lean in to kiss Daniil, lightly. He made a face as he pulled away. "How do women do it?" he asked, because their lipstick had tried to stick together.

"The real reason for butches," Daniil said, and Maksim giggled.

After a couple of songs, Maksim went to get a drink, and Daniil went to use one of the bathrooms. On his way back to the main rooms of the party, he was stopped by a familiar voice saying, "Excuse me, miss, but where on earth has a beauty like you been hiding?"

Daniil almost didn't want to turn around, because then he wouldn't have to witness the shock or disappointment on Yakov's face. He did, although he rather wished he was mysteriously unrecognizable like Cinderella or some other wonder tale heroine. Daniil said, "Hi, Yakov."

Yakov Sardavin did not look shocked or disappointed. For a moment, he instead looked confused, and then he said, "By God, is that you, Daniil? You look amazing!"

"Thank you," Daniil said, unable to keep himself from blushing.

"I mean, I saw Ivan and Maksim, and I sort of figured--I mean, not that Maksim doesn't carry it off, but he does still look like a man in a dress, doesn't he? But you," Yakov said. He gestured.

"I look good enough to hit on?" Daniil asked.

"Maybe it's my Gnillesian-adjacent upbringing," Yakov said, shrugging, "but you just look like a woman to me."

"Well, that is what I was going for," Daniil said. That made him feel some kind of way to hear. Maybe it was just because it was Yakov, who he'd had a crush on for years, but the idea that someone could look at Daniil, recognize him, and still think he looked like a woman was...something to consider more later, perhaps. He brushed a lock of the wig's bangs back from his cheeks and said, "I didn't think this was your kind of party, though."

For some reason, that made Yakov blush. "Ah, no," he said, "not usually. I'm glad I came, though."

"Good," Daniil said. Then, before he said or did anything unwise, he said, "I'll see you later, Yakov," and left him.

Back in the rooms where dancing was happening, Daniil let a few girls he knew from school prod his fake breasts. Katya, already a little drunk by the smell of her, didn't want to stop groping them, and despite the fact that there was several layers of padding between her hands and Daniil's chest, it was pretty hot. He eventually had to pass her off to her friends just so he could walk off the nascent stiffy.

He went to the kitchen to get a drink, and Stasia smacked his ass as he walked by. He did a little offended-noblewoman-act, all flustered with his hand on his heart, to raucous laughter. Stasia's friends tried to pull him into their circle, but Daniil really needed some air now. "Sticks and stones, Stasia," he muttered, grabbing a can of soda from a cooler and heading out to the yard.

One of the things Kavagor had going for it was the climate. The Imperial capital was positioned in a beautifully temperate area, where the weather was mild and pleasant most of the year, with a brief dip into constant light snow in the winter. Most of the central continent was equally temperate, not only within human tolerances but actually comfortable most of the time. Not all of the planets in the galaxy were as climatically friendly.

Daniil stood on the patio and enjoyed a light breeze along with his cold soda, which cooled him off enough that he was no longer in danger of ruining the lines of his skirt when Maksim came through the door from the house. "There you are," Maksim said, descending the steps from the kitchen. "Do you still have that thing about my cousin Yakov?" he asked.

"No, I was out here to get rid of it," Daniil said, which made Maksim snort. "Why?"

"Because he's here and he's asking about you," Maksim said. He came close to Daniil to murmur, "I think you'd have a very real shot at getting him into bed."

"Tired of me already, Maks?" Daniil asked, putting on a pout.

"Darling Danny," Maksim said, toying with a lock of Daniil's wig, "you can have me any time. I have to assume Yakov is a limited-time offer."

"Can I?" Daniil asked. Maksim's already striking eyes were ringed with artfully smudged makeup. Daniil leaned in close enough to rest his fingers on Maksim's hip. "Then why haven't we?"

Maksim shrugged. "One or both of us have had other things on our mind," he suggested. "If you're really interested, I'd be happy to oblige you."

"But not tonight," Daniil guessed.

"Blood, Danny, we can go right here if you really want to make this party memorable," Maksim said, which was a terrible and hilarious idea. He went on, "I thought you'd rather take a shot at someone who needs the excuse of you making a beautiful woman, as opposed to just an appreciation of it."

"I'll hold you to that," Daniil said. "There's been a few times when I'm sure I would have had a better time going somewhere private with you than I ended up having."

Maksim grinned. "I've had similar thoughts," he said. He leaned in still more, bending down enough that he could lightly press his still-tacky lips to Daniil's. "And if you don't find any takers," he murmured, mere centimeters from Daniil's face, "I'd be more than happy to prove I'm no lady."

"You're doing a terrible job convincing me to find someone else to fuck," Daniil said, laughing.

*

Yakov broke away from the clump of girls he was dancing with when he spotted Daniil. That was something, Daniil thought, because at least two of those girls were definitely easy enough to spread their legs for Yakov. Yakov might have been more of a gentleman than some of their peers, but he wasn't a fool; he had to be aware of which girls were a sure thing.

He stopped in front of Daniil. After an awkward moment of silence, Yakov held out his hand and asked, "May I have this dance?" as if they were at a formal ball and not a house party.

"You may," Daniil responded in kind, although he ignored Yakov's proffered hand in favor of throwing his arms around Yakov's shoulders.

Yakov was better at formal dancing than he was at this kind, although how mesmerized he looked gazing at Daniil made up for a lot. It did at least allow for more casual touching than most formal dances, and Yakov seemed eager to take advantage of those opportunities.

When the music faded while the song changed, Yakov leaned in to say, "Seriously, I would never have guessed you weren't a girl if I didn't know better."

"Do you know better?" Daniil asked, cheekily, because he didn't think they'd ever been in a position to see each other naked. He'd certainly never shared a locker room or anything with Yakov, so he couldn't think of when Yakov would have had the opportunity and desire to look at him nude.

But Yakov looked thoughtful at that, almost as though he was taking it seriously. "Do I?" he responded.

Daniil's stomach turned over. "Why?" he asked. "If I said I was, would you believe me?"

"Sasha and Aunt Del would kill me if I didn't," Yakov said, making Daniil laugh. "And who would know better than you, right?"

Daniil hadn't considered the fact that Yakov had Gnillesian family. They weren't so rigid about gender there. Yakov had even said something earlier about that. On Gnilles, if Daniil went out dressed as a woman and told everyone he was a woman, they'd take him at face value. He heard they'd do that even if you skipped the dressing as part, ignoring the traditional gender of your outfit in favor of what you said. He could go out dressed like normal, and as long as he had those little chips of glass in his ears that said he was a woman, everyone who got close enough to see them would immediately call him one. Daniil had known that for years, of course, but he had never before considered that it would apply to him, too.

Daniil pressed closer against Yakov's body. Yakov's hand alighted on Daniil's waist as though it had been waiting for the chance. Quietly enough so no one else would be able to hear him over the music, Daniil asked, "If I said I wanted to be your girl for the night, would you kiss me?"

Yakov huffed a little laugh. "I think I'd do anything you asked," he said.

Daniil leaned forward and closed the distance between their mouths. Yakov slid his arms around Daniil's waist, pulling them flush together. Yakov deepened the kiss of his own accord, opening his mouth to let Daniil's breath in.

When they broke apart, Yakov asked Daniil, "Do you want to get out of here?"

Daniil replied, "Desperately."

*

Of course, Yakov was living in the Academy barracks and Daniil still lived at home, so they wound up in the nearest park, in a spot Daniil happened to know was poorly-lit and not frequented by passers-by.

He kind of expected Yakov to, you know, try and pretend he was a girl. Instead, Yakov groaned into Daniil's mouth and shifted his thigh to press into Daniil's erection more. "Is that for me?" he asked, jostling his leg between Daniil's.

"Who else would it be for?" Daniil asked. He didn't dare ask if the matching heat against his own leg was for him. "I don't see any other handsome young men pinning me to the ground."

"Not at the moment," Yakov agreed, and went back to kissing Daniil.

He also did the same thing Katya had done, and groped Daniil's heavily-padded chest like it was real. It worked just as well--if not better!--when Yakov did it, so by the time Daniil yanked off his top and the two bras giving him the illusion of breasts, his nipples tingled and ached. Yakov bent down and sucked one into his mouth like Daniil really was any other girl. Except at the same time, one of his hands crept down to cup Daniil's cock through his skirt.

Daniil moaned. "Yakov."

Yakov paused, and looked up at him. "This is okay, right? Or should I not?"

Oh, shit, he'd really--he thought Daniil--sticks, he was so considerate. It was an odd mix of Kavagoran chivalry and galactic manners that Daniil never imagined. Even with his queer friends, there was usually a cloak of irony over one part or the other. "It's amazing," Daniil said. "You're amazing." He might have to reconsider those feelings about how nice it was to have someone believe he was a girl sooner rather than later, and not just because it was apparently getting him laid. It felt so good.

Yakov hummed and went back to sucking on Daniil's nipple while he rubbed Daniil's cock.

A while later--Daniil truly couldn't have said as to how long--Yakov pulled away from Daniil's chest, although he kept his hand on Daniil's cock. Yakov said, "I didn't bring any condoms, although I suppose we would also need lube." While Daniil tried to wrap his head around how casually Yakov had said that, Yakov went on, "Usually at this point I'd go down on you, but fair warning that I'm probably bad at it since I've never done it before."

"What?" Daniil asked.

"Well, you know," Yakov said, looking embarrassed. "All my experience is with, ah, more traditionally equipped girls."

"You can say you've never sucked cock before," Daniil said.

"I didn't know if you'd be okay having that word applied to you," Yakov said, like the earnest idiot he was.

Daniil laughed, feeling much more intoxicated than the single drink he had would get him. "I've had cock applied to me plenty," he said, and Yakov chuckled.

"Well then," Yakov said, smiling up at him, "please forgive me if my cock-sucking is not up to your usual standards." He kissed Daniil's chest again, then his stomach, and then flipped Daniil's skirt up to press his face against Daniil's very strained panties. "Oh, hello," Yakov said. "Well, congratulations on being the first girl I've been with to have a bigger dick than me," he said, then kissed the damp spot on Daniil's underwear.

"Yakov, don't tease," Daniil breathed.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Yakov murmured, pulling Daniil's underwear over to one side, so Daniil's cock had a free route out of one of the leg holes.

The preemptive apology was not especially necessary; Yakov's inexperience was clear enough, but he had the general idea, and he was quick to pick up on whether Daniil liked something. He noticed how much Daniil liked pressure in that spot behind his balls, and once he had, he kept one of his hands down there, counterpointing his hand and mouth on Daniil's shaft.

"Yakov," Daniil panted. "Yakov, fuck, Yakov, I'm--bones, Yakov, you're so good, I'm--"

"You wanna come in my mouth, baby?" Yakov asked, talking around the head of Daniil's cock. He kissed Daniil's slit. "I'd like that. You're so hot." He bent back down to suck on the head of Daniil's cock.

Daniil couldn't keep himself from jerking his hips up as he came in Yakov's mouth, but Yakov only sputtered and let a little leak out between his lips. He kept working his hands, milking Daniil through it. Sergei's blood and bones, how good was he at eating pussy if this was his uncertain first blowjob? Daniil rather wished he could swap over and find out.

When Daniil was wrung completely dry, Yakov went ahead and lapped up all the bits that had spilled, cleaning off both Daniil's cock and his own hands. He gave the head of Daniil's cock one last kiss, then wiped his mouth with the back of one hand, before licking that up as well. "Can I kiss you again?" Yakov asked. "I really want to, but I thought you might not like the taste--"

Daniil hauled him up into kissing range. Yakov's lower face was all damp, and he certainly smelled like cock. Daniil opened his mouth and did his best to convey how much he did not mind the taste of semen.

Yakov was still rock-hard, his cock pressing against Daniil's stomach just above his own cock. Daniil reached between them to fumble with the fastening of Yakov's trousers, and all but shoved his hand down them. Yakov groaned into his mouth and bucked against him.

It was possibly the least elegant or impressive handjob of Daniil's life, but Yakov frantically thrusting his hips while he laid on top of Daniil was a memory Daniil would treasure forever after this night.

Daniil barely remembered to stop and tell Yakov not to come on his clothes. "Right, of course," Yakov said, and then pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. Daniil nearly laughed, but Yakov was trembling to keep himself still. Daniil arranged the handkerchief to cover the likely trajectory of Yakov's come, then went back to stroking him. Yakov groaned. "God, Danny, that feels so good."

"Good," Daniil said. He leaned up enough to kiss Yakov again.

Yakov came all over his own handkerchief and Daniil's stomach, but little of it got on Daniil's clothes. Yakov sagged on top of him. "Fuck," Yakov breathed. He kissed Daniil again, lightly. "Thank you," he murmured. "That was amazing. Blood, I can't believe I never knew you were so sexy."

Daniil giggled. They made out a little more before Yakov sat back to put his clothes in order. It took a bit longer for Daniil to put himself back together, since his shirt didn't fit right without breasts filling it out, so he had to re-assemble his bra contraption. Yakov watched with apparent interest.

"That's clever," he said, just as Maksim had. "That's why they look so real. The part I can see is real."

"Mmhmm," Daniil said. "Hey, you know how to do up the back of these. Would you?" He half-turned to put his back to Yakov.

"Sure thing, beautiful." As Yakov did up Daniil's bra back, he said, "We kind of messed up your wig, too."

Daniil wrinkled his nose. "It's actually Stasia's," he said. "The girls confiscated the one I came with. I guess I should fix it before I give it back to her."

"Oh, I just meant it was crooked," Yakov said, tugging on it. Daniil sat still, enjoying the attention. When the wig was straightened to Yakov's satisfaction, he looked back at Daniil's eyes. He asked, "Do you want me to walk you home?"

Did he want Yakov to walk him home? That seemed like a less pertinent question than whether Yakov would realize what he was doing midway through the journey. Or what Daniil's parents might say, if they saw them together. Daniil said, "I can get home on my own."

Yakov frowned. "Even dressed like that?" he asked.

Damn, that was a good point. If he walked, he'd be going through a neighborhood that was less accepting of noticeably queer folks, such as Daniil dressed up like a woman. And even if he passed, he'd be opening himself up to street harassment in a neighborhood most of the girls he knew wouldn't walk through alone. He smiled at Yakov, and said, "Maybe just to the tram stop?"

Yakov helped him up, then used the excuse of brushing dirt and grass off his clothes to grope his ass.

After Yakov walked him to the stop, he kissed Daniil one more time before he headed in the direction of his own tram stop.

[ndiariess]

... im back!! LMAOOO IK IK IK!!! listen listen listen! y'all don't understand how insane my life has been these past couple months! like i've been on this acc but i haven't had the time to like write on here anymore! so forgive meee! ANYWAYS the way.. i've been working.. EVERYDAY for 2 months is INSANE. i'm a camp counselor and i feel like i’ll never be the same again! like i’ve matured so MUCH and i’ve learned so much like omg, but like these kids though are no joke there’s been times where i’ve wanted to bang my head, cry, and run away😭😭😭 but i’m so so so thankful for my co workers they are just the best and so funny and chill! we went to dinner and jumped in the pool and just urgh much love! i’m ngl i have not been saving i’m down to my last $25 but listen

i’m just a girl.

i’ve been going to the gym and watching my calories too like who am i! y’all i am not playing when i tell you my body is TEA☕️ low waisted, high waisted, long sleeve, crop top, dress, skirt, shorts ANYTHING!! i look gawd innnn like urgh imma go to the gym today too i just yessssss����

as for boys and shit yk… i’ve had a couple situation - ships i’m not gonna lie to yall! they’ve been cool but like i’m not feeling relationships rn like urgh, taking care of myself is already hard work and now i gotta look after a nigga?!!! DO I LOOK LIKE A MOTHA!!! no. lmaoo but i’d be lying if i said one of the main reasons i’m looking forward to going back to school is for the guys😭 idk like guys coming up to you in the hall and asking for your insta is such an ego booster!

speaking of insta i have not been taking pictures and it’s cuz i’m suffering from a bad case of camp counselor hair… like urgh my hair not cute rn bc these kids love touching it and ONE TIME THEY CHASED ME WITH SHAVING CREAM AND DRENCHED ME IN IT!! plus i have to get in the pool all the time so it’s like there’s no point in having a middle part buss down if it’s just gonna get ruinedddddddd!!!

buttttt i bought me a wig for back to school so i look good and hawt so don’t even worry y’all! i also started shopping on depop bc yk i kinda care for the environment like lowkey… i don’t wanna get into rn BUT i got some nike dunks in grey for super cheap and they were real and new so i was like lemme get some black ones too… long story short i got scammed but it’s fine cuz money comes to me abundantly right? right.

i also took my SATs this past june i got a 1050 which isn’t the best but it’s better than that 950 i had gotten earlier this year, ITS CUZ I FELL ASLEEP LMAOOO!! no but i’m gonna take it again in october and hopefully hopefully get a 1400 that’s my goal cuz baby i need scholarships!!

i watched the barbie movie 2 days ago and it made me realize that this summer i haven’t been appreciating my mom as much as i should, i feel like working summer camp as just made me a little more irritable when i get home and shit. i just started to feel bad. at the end of the day my mom is just a grown teenage girl🎀 i did her lashes yesterday and they turned out cutee i’m also installing her hair, mothers deserve to be pampered too!

i went hover boarding yesterday to clear my mind and i almost fell but is it just me or do i not get embarrassed anymore like i’m definitely starting to think that being embarrassed is a choice🤔

anyways my goals for this school year is to be hot, make $$, and get into my college of choice!!

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH9

This is the first new chapter! Every last bit of it has never been read before (except by me and my betas)! What nefarious schemes will Adrien and Chloe try? Find out below!

Previous    First      Next      AO3

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

Chapter 9: Emperor’s New Clothes

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Adrien asked as Chloe adjusted her wig. He peeked over the railing to the courtyard below with a frown. All of their classmates were gathered, enjoying their break—completely unsuspecting of what was about to commence.

“Of course it’ll work. These people are idiots who will believe anything.” Chloe snapped her compact shut and tossed it into her purse. “If they had any sort of intelligence, they would have seen right through Lila by now.”

“Yeah, but what if they-” Chloe pressed a finger to his lips.

“Just leave this to me, Adrikins. Being mean isn’t exactly your area of expertise.” She patted his cheek. “Little Miss Lie-la is about to be exposed. Now get into position!”

Adrien swallowed hard before climbing down the stairs to stand by the science lab door. Even though he agreed to help Chloe get back at Lila, he wasn’t entirely ready to deal with the guilt that came with it. Lila was a menace, and her lies needed to stop—that much Adrien could agree with, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his skin crawl.

To justify going through with it, he reminded himself why he’d agreed to help in the first place. Marinette didn’t deserve to be pushed away from her friends, and freeing them from Lila’s grasp would help her move on. This was for Marinette, and on those terms only, he could accept it.

“Hello, everyone! It’s me, your favorite superheroine, Ladybug!” Chloe called into the courtyard as she descended the stairs, and every head turned to face her.

“Is that Ladybug?”

“It is Ladybug!”

“Is there an akuma?”

Adrien hung back with a wince as a crowd gathered around her. This was for Marinette. Lila needed to be stopped. He agreed to this.

“Yo, Ladybug, what are you doing here?” Nino asked.

Chloe placed a hand on her hip. “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood being a super amazing superheroine and protecting Paris from akumas, and I thought I’d stop in and visit my bff. So where exactly is Lila Rossi?” Chloe pressed a hand over her eyes and scanned the courtyard.

“She’s over here!” Alya waved. Despite Lila’s best efforts to shrink behind Alya, her new bestie wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to talk to Ladybug.

“Ah, there you are, my bff. It’s been so long since we’ve last seen each other. You remember? That time I saved your life, and we became instant bffs?” Chloe crossed her fingers. “You haven’t returned my calls, so I was starting to get worried.”

“Lila’s been out of the country until recently, and she’s been super busy catching up on school ever since she got back,” Alya explained. She patted Lila’s shoulder with a beam, and Lila offered a sheepish grin in return.

“Uh, yeah…” Lila’s face blanched.

They had her cornered. This was actually working! Maybe Adrien wouldn’t have to get involved after all.

“Oh, right, you went to Achu to visit Prince Ali. Funny though, I talked to Prince Ali yesterday—his assistant wanted to make sure that Paris was safe for his upcoming visit, so naturally they called me—I asked him how your visit went, and he didn’t remember inviting you to come to his palace.” Chloe cupped her cheek in one hand. “How weird is that?”

“Wait, what?” Everyone turned to look at Lila who stiffened, and a smirk curled on Chloe’s lips.

“But you were gone for over a month, Lila. I thought you said Prince Ali invited you to come stay with him,” Rose said. She hugged her scrapbook full of Prince Ali magazine clippings to her chest.

“He did!”

“But Ladybug just said he didn’t.” Alix crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, she must be mistaken,” Lila said. “I’m your friend. Why would I lie to you?”

“Ladybug is a superhero. She’d never lie to us either.”

“What’s the truth then?”

“Yeah, Lila, tell us the truth.” Chloe egged. “Or perhaps you’d prefer to hear it from someone else? I’ve got a pretty killer witness. Adrikins, be a dear and come over here.”

Adrien hesitated, heart hammering in his chest. He couldn’t go through with this. Even though Lila deserved it, he couldn’t bring himself to call her out like this in front of everyone. There had to be another way.

“Wait a second, Adrikins?” Alya’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think we have to wonder who’s telling the truth, do we, Chloe?”

“What? I’m not Chloe! She has way better hair than I, Ladybug, do. Plus she’s way funnier, prettier, smarter, and hey!” She spun around as Kim ripped off her wig.

“Ugh, we should have known,” Alya said. “You’re just upset because Lila beat you for class rep. Honestly, Chloe, grow up!”

“Yeah, Chloe, this is super lame.”

“Why do you always gotta pick on people?”

“You just can’t stand that someone’s getting more attention than you.”

Chloe shot Adrien a cutting glare as if to say, “Get out here and do your part,” but Adrien shot her an apologetic wince before ducking into the science lab.

“What are you doing? You can still stop that girl,” Plagg said when Adrien pulled his shirt aside.

“I panicked. I don’t want it to go down like this,” Adrien said. He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “I just can’t do it.”

“So you’re just going to let her keep using everyone?” Plagg asked.

Adrien squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. “Transform me!”

“Nice try, Chloe, but Lila won fair and square,” Nino said when Chat Noir landed in the courtyard.

Chloe blew a piece of hair from her face grumpily. “You all are so stupid if you actually believe anything she says. Even Dupain-Cheng realized she was a liar. I don’t want to be your class representative anyway. You’re all so lame.”

“The only liar here is you, Ladybug,” Alix said, and Kim waved her black wig over her head tauntingly.

“Lila is a liar! Ask Adrien. He can tell you!” Chloe’s cheeks flushed an angry red.

“Dude, leave Adrien alone.” Nino groaned, shaking his head. “Just admit you’re jealous, so we can all go home.”

“I’m really sorry if I’ve upset you, Chloe. If you want, I can talk to Mlle. Bustier about letting you be the class rep instead if it means so much to you. I don’t want us to fight,” Lila said humbly.

“Liar!” Chloe stomped her foot.

“I’m not lying! I promise,” Lila said. She held up her right hand for emphasis.

“Oh really?” Every head turned around as Chat Noir laid his staff across his shoulders.

“Yo, it’s Chat Noir! Like for real this time!”

“What are you doing here, Chat Noir?” Alya pulled out her phone to record.

“I heard that m’lady was making a house call, so I thought I’d come by and make sure everything was in order.” He cast a smirk in Chloe’s direction. “But it looks like someone just wanted to play dress-up.”

Goading Chloe probably wasn’t his smartest move, seeing as she was absolutely going to kill Adrien for chickening out, but he needed everyone on his side. Taking cheap shots at Chloe was always an instant crowd-pleaser.

“So, since you’re so honest, is there anything you’d like to share with the class?” he asked Lila. “Now would be a good time to get anything that your friends don’t know about you off your chest.”

She didn’t seem deterred by his presence at all, eyes glinting with amusement. Chat Noir bristled, grip tightening on his staff. Lila held no remorse for any of her actions, and she’d cling to her lies until the very end. Chat Noir bit his tongue hard as she turned to everyone else and plastered on a pout.

“There is something I want to tell all of you…” She clasped her hands over her heart. “I’ve been hesitant because I know you all have mixed feelings, but I think Marinette is behind all of this.”

“What?” Chat Noir and Chloe said in unison.

“Why do you say that, Lila?” Alya asked.

“Well, the other day on my way home I saw Chloe going to Marinette’s house, and now she’s here calling me a liar just like Marinette used to do,” Lila said, letting her face fall into her hands. “I just don’t know what I did to deserve to be treated this way.”

Everyone crowded closer to her offering their sympathy as alligator tears rolled down her cheeks, and a host of cutting glares aimed at Chloe. They should have planned for something like this. Lila always bent the truth to suit herself.

Rage boiled in Chat’s core, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to tackle Lila to the ground. How could anyone be so despicable?  

“Hang on,” he said firmly, forcing his shoulders to relax. “I’ve met Marinette a few times, and she doesn’t seem like that type of girl.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure that’s true either, Lila,” Alix spoke up. “I mean, Chloe and Marinette hate each other. Chloe would rather die than set foot in her house.”

Alya pursed her lips and turned to Chloe. “Is it true? Did you go to Marinette’s house?”

Chloe averted her gaze, crossing her arms over her chest. “I did go to see Dupain-Cheng at her tiny, disgusting hovel, but…she refused to help me—stupid little goody-two-shoes,” Chloe said. She met Alya’s gaze head-on and squared her jaw. “But with friends like you, I’m starting to see why she left. She was nothing but nice to you losers, and yet you’d so easily believe that she’d help me get back at someone. You’re all so pathetic.”

“The only pathetic one here is you, Chloe. Lila’s never done anything. None of us have! We’re sick and tired of putting up with your crud,” Nathaniel said, and several classmates echoed their agreement.

“Whatever. I don’t want to be your class representative anyway if you’re all too stupid to tell the difference between a diamond and a lump of coal.” Chloe flipped her hair over her shoulder, hips swaying as she stalked to the locker room.

Chat Noir almost chased after her, but his staff beeped with a message from Ladybug. There was an akuma across town. Chloe was going to have to wait.

♪♫♪ Broken Pieces Shine ♪♫♪

Marinette chewed her pencil, tilting her head to examine her designs from different angles. Clara’s deadline was still several weeks away, but she already had tons of ideas. Would Clara like a tasteful pantsuit or a flowing gown? Which one said ‘award-winner?’ Maybe if she added a sash or changed up the neckline…

The lunchroom bustled several simultaneous conversations, condensed into a uniform hum in Marinette’s ears while she worked. She was vaguely aware of her friends at the table with her, but when Macy leaned in to get a closer look at what she was working on, she still jumped.

“Ooo, are those for you-know-who?” she asked.

“Shh!” Marinette covered her sketchbook and glanced around to ensure no one had overheard. “Yes, but they’re not final. I’m just playing around with some ideas.”

“I like them,” Macy said. “Look at this one, Eliott. Eliott?”

He was unusually quiet that day, but Marinette had been too enthralled in her own work to notice. His nose was buried in a booklet, seemingly as engrossed in it as Marinette had been with her designs. He only looked up when Macy stuck her hand in front of his face.

“What?” He blinked.

“Marinette is designing top-secret things, and she needs opinions,” Macy said.

“Can’t you ask Martin?” he asked.

Macy gave him an incredulous look. “Martin left 10 minutes ago to go work with his group on their science project. Weren’t you listening?” She scolded. Though in Eliott’s defense, Marinette hadn’t noticed either.

“Oh, sorry. Guess I was distracted.” He closed the cover but marked the page with his finger. “So what do you need?”

Macy shook her head, taking a bite of her cake. “You two are such space cadets today.”

“What are you studying, Eliott?” Marinette asked. She tilted her head to get a better look at the cover.

“I’m in a community play, and we have rehearsal tonight,” he said nonchalantly.

“Wow, that’s so awesome! What part did you get?”

“Oh, it’s nothing special…” Eliott sat back with a smirk and shrugged.

“He’s being modest. He’s playing one of the leads, and he’s super excited about it. He memorized his lines in like 3 days, but he always reads over the script again before rehearsals.” Macy finished her cake and stood up. “I’m gonna get another drink. Help Marinette with her designs!”

“Fine, but can you get me a slice of that cake, please?” Eliott requested. He pressed his palms together with a smile. Macy rolled her eyes but headed for the dessert stand anyway.

“So, you got a lead role. What play are you guys doing?” Marinette asked, and Eliott tossed her the script.

Miraculous! The Battle of Heroes’ Day

“Oh, so it’s about Ladybug and Chat Noir,” Marinette said with as much casualty as she could muster. “Wait, if you’re playing a lead role then that means…”

“You guessed it, m’lady.” He winked.

Marinette bit back a laugh. The director definitely cast the right person. Put Eliott in a blond wig, and even she’d believe he was Chat Noir.

“That’s so awesome! When is it opening? I’d love to come watch.” She passed back the script, and he found his page again.

“Not for a couple more weeks, but if you want, I can see about getting you into one of our dress rehearsals soon,” he offered.

“Really? Yeah, I’d love to.”

Macy returned with Eliott’s slice of cake, but not before Gabrielle locked on target. “Did you save any cake for the rest of us? No wonder your uniform looks so tight these days.”

When Macy froze, Marinette turned to Gabrielle with a glare. “She got it for Eliott because some people don’t spend all of their time thinking about themselves.”

“I think about other people all the time,” Gabrielle said with a wicked grin. “I’ve actually been feeling sorry for Macy after Simon rejected her three weeks ago. If only she were prettier, then maybe Eliott would be more than just a friend.”

“Eliott and I aren’t like that.” Macy shot back.

“Clearly,” Gabrielle said with a grunt. “Tell me, Eliott. Have you ever thought about dating Macy?”

“Well, no, but-”

Gabrielle threw her head back with a laugh, and Macy’s cheeks flushed a deep red. She stormed from the cafeteria, tears bubbling in her eyes. Gabrielle watched her go with a triumphant smirk that made Marinette’s blood boil.

“You should go after her,” Marinette said to Eliott.

“Trust me, she doesn’t want to see me after that.” He shrugged and returned to his script.

“How can you say that? She’s your best friend, and best friends should always be there for each other no matter what!” Marinette slammed her palm on the table, but when Eliott refused to look at her, her jaw clenched. “You’re wrong. I think you’re the exact person Macy wants to see right now.” She didn’t wait for his reply before gathering her sketchbook and chasing after Macy.

The halls were empty and quiet, the chorus of chatter from the cafeteria fading as Marinette raced down the stairs. Macy was nowhere in sight, and Marinette didn’t know where to begin looking for her. After a week, Marinette was still learning her way around—not to mention still learning her new friends.

If it were Alya, Marinette knew exactly where to look, which treat from the bakery would always cheer her up, and as a last resort, where she was ticklish. She didn’t have those ins with Macy yet.

Eliott would know.

Eliott… How could he sit by while his friend was upset? Didn’t he care about her at all? If they really were best friends, then why didn’t he stand up for her and believe her when she said she was hurt? It was so obvious that Gabrielle just wanted attention. How could he let her come between them? Why did he let her walk away? Shouldn’t he chase after his best friend and make sure she was okay? Isn’t that what friends were supposed to do?

Marinette leaned against a row of lockers, shoulders heaving and tears stinging her eyes. Wasn’t she a good friend? Didn’t she always take care of everyone? So why would they turn their backs on her? How could they leave her all alone?

“What’s wrong, Marinette?” Tikki poked her head out of Marinette’s blazer.

Marinette sat on the floor with a sigh, resting her head against the lockers. “It just gets so hard,” she whispered. “Always being there for everyone. Being the one to fix everything for everyone. Sometimes I just wonder… who will be there to fix me when I need it?”

“You’ve got me,” Tikki said. She floated up to nuzzle Marinette’s cheek. “And your parents, Master Fu, Adrien.”

Marinette smiled at that, petting Tikki’s bulbous head with one finger. “Thanks, Tikki. I needed a friend.”

Screams echoed up the hall, and Marinette jumped to her feet. Shaking off the last of her doubts, she slapped her cheeks and took a deep breath. She wasn’t alone, and she would make sure her friends never were either.

“That sounded like it came from the cafeteria. I think it’s safe to say we know where Macy is,” Marinette said. “Transform me!”

Terrified teens with crooked teeth and unibrows rushed past as Ladybug entered the cafeteria. All around the room, her classmates cowered from the akuma zeroing in on Gabrielle in the center. Macy had become the perfect porcelain doll carrying a mirror in her hands—no doubt where the akuma was hiding.

Ladybug hooked her yoyo around Gabrielle’s shoulders and tugged her to safety, even if she deserved whatever punishment Macy was about to give her.  “Get somewhere safe,” she ordered.

“Duh,” Gabrielle said. Ever the gracious one.

“You’re welcome.” Ladybug rolled her eyes as Gabrielle raced off.

With Gabrielle out of the way, the akuma settled for Thomas. She held her mirror in front of him, and his handsome face broke out in angry red zits. The misshapen students fleeing the cafeteria all made sense. Gabrielle told Macy she wasn’t attractive, so now she was making everyone else look the part instead.

“You shouldn’t have let her get away, Ladybug. I think everyone here would like to know what she’s ashamed of,” the akuma said.

While that much might have been true, Ladybug wasn’t in the business of agreeing with one of Hawkmoth’s villains. “Revenge is never the answer, Macy. You’re better than this. Let me help you.”

“I’m not Macy anymore. My name is Mirror-Mirror!” she shouted. Her glassy eyes bore all of her pain, the real Macy screaming inside. “If you want to help me, then give me your Miraculous!”

Ladybug dodged her strike, flipping backward onto a table. Mirror-Mirror wasted no time charging in again and again, the destructive force of her anguish taking its toll on the cafeteria. It was impossible to get a hit in edgewise without seeing herself in the mirror, and Chat Noir hadn’t turned up yet.

“Kitty, I’m battling an akuma, and I really need your help! Where are you?” Ladybug spoke into her yoyo phone. Looks like she’d have to navigate this one on her own. “Lucky Charm!”

A slingshot seemed straight forward enough, but what could she use as ammo? Nothing stood out, and in her moment of distraction, she barely dodged a flying table. Her lucky charm skittered across the floor as she stumbled into her landing, and Mirror-Mirror closed in.

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall, what darkest fears hide in us all?”

“No!” Ladybug tried to shield her face, but it was too late. Her eyes locked with her reflection, and she sank to her knees, all of the fight leaving her body.

What was happening? Everyone else got pimples or big feet, so why couldn’t she move? If Macy’s mirror made everyone unattractive, then why? Why did she feel so…helpless?

What darkest fears hide in us all?

Of course! Her mirror didn’t just make people unattractive. It turned them into the thing they’re most ashamed of—the parts of themselves they hid from the world. And what was Ladybug ashamed of? Failing? Perhaps. Having her identity exposed? Probably.

But as Mirror-Mirror reached for her earrings, their eyes locked, and she saw what she truly feared. The mirror didn’t take her powers. It took her will to fight. More than anything she wanted to save Macy. To save Alya. Her friends. Everyone. But her legs refused to move.

Ladybug’s greatest fear wasn’t losing. It was being powerless to help the people she loved most.

“I can’t do it,” she whispered, head falling.

Mirror-Mirror’s fingers closed around her earrings, but before she could remove them, Chat Noir’s staff struck her side, sending her flying into the wall.

“Ladybug!” He rushed to her side. “Sorry it took so long, m’lady. Are you alright?”

“No.” She shook her head.

Chat Noir cast a nervous glance at Mirror-Mirror as she stood up. “Come on. We’ve gotta move.”

“I can’t,” Ladybug repeated.

“Are you hurt?” Chat Noir bent one of her knees. “M’lady? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t save her, Chat Noir.”

He searched her expression before scooping her up and leaping out of the way of another attack. He set her down gently and brandished his staff. Would he leave her one day too? What if she couldn’t protect him either?

No. That was ridiculous. Chat Noir would always have her back.

You thought Alya would have your back too. Look how that turned out.

That was different. Lila was manipulating her.

Who’s to say a villain couldn’t do the same to Chat Noir? He could turn his back on you.

He wouldn’t.

But he could.

Ladybug squeezed her eyes shut, pushing against the darkness clouding her mind. Ever since she became Ladybug, she’d always relied on her head to get through tough situations. Now even her own thoughts were working against her. She didn’t know what to believe anymore. Macy needed her help. She needed to save her friends.

Mirror-Mirror kicked Chat Noir in the gut, spreading him on his back. His staff rolled into Ladybug’s feet as Mirror-Mirror closed in. She needed to help him, but her legs wouldn’t budge. Her lucky charm was only a few yards away. If she moved now, she could reach it before Mirror-Mirror changed Chat Noir too.

But what was the point? Even if she did reach it in time, she still hadn’t figured out what to do with it. This battle was over.

“Hey, Macy!”  Eliott stood in the doorway, shoulders squared and head high. His hands were balled into tight fists to hide how they shook as he approached.

Ladybug assumed he ran away after getting zapped just like everyone else, but he looked completely normal. She hadn’t seen him since she left to find Macy, so he should have been in the cafeteria when Mirror-Mirror first attacked. Had he gone to look for Macy after all?

Mirror-Mirror abandoned Chat Noir, freeing him to rush to Ladybug’s side. He retrieved her lucky charm on the way and placed it in her hands. “Come on, Ladybug. Think.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you earlier,” Eliott said, and when she raised her mirror, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Go ahead if it will make you feel better, but it’s not going to do you any good.”

When Eliott remained unchanged, she lowered the mirror with a growl. “Why isn’t it working?”

“Because I’m already the thing I’m most ashamed of,” Eliott said. “I was a bad friend to you, and that hurts me more than anything else ever could. Marinette was right. Friends should never turn their backs on one another, and that’s why I’m never going to abandon you again.”

“LB.” Chat Noir placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m here. What do you need?”

Eliott hadn’t abandoned Macy, and Chat Noir wasn’t abandoning her. Not all friendships were destined to fail. So long as she held onto her faith in the people she loved, everything would be alright.

Ladybug turned the slingshot over in her hands. If she combined it with Chat Noir’s staff… She loaded the slingshot and aimed for the pillar diagonally across from them. The staff ricocheted off the wall, soaring right into the mirror. The glass shattered, and a black butterfly fluttered out.

Chat Noir pulled her to her feet, and she captured the akuma with one swipe of her yoyo. She took a deep breath as Miraculous Ladybug returned everything to normal, the last traces of her insecurities fading. When Chat Noir offered her a fist, she stretched up to hug his neck instead—he didn’t complain.

As Hawkmoth’s magic faded, Macy collapsed forward into Eliott’s arms. “What happened?” she groaned.

“You were akumatized, but I’ve got you,” he said gently.

Students filed back into the cafeteria, cheering for another victory over Hawkmoth. Gabrielle stood at the back of the crowd, arms crossed over her chest, and Eliott eyed her with a frown.

“I know I should have stood up for you, but Gabrielle didn’t let me finish,” he said. “You’re not just a friend to me, Macy. You’re my family, so of course I’ve never thought of you that way.” When Gabrielle rolled her eyes, he continued, “I think this has shown us that we all have things about ourselves that we don’t like, and just because I’ve never seen you that way doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re really beautiful, Mace.”

Macy hugged his neck, prompting more cheers from their classmates. Ladybug and Chat Noir used the noise as cover to slip silently out the door.

♪♫♪ Stall Me ♪♫♪

The day was over when Adrien made it back to school. Most of the students had already gone home, and he believed Chloe had too until he rounded the corner to his locker. He was going to have to face her eventually, though he hoped to delay it a while longer.

She didn’t say anything, but he knew that look all too well. Arms crossed, hip cocked, lips pursed. It was the same look she gave her butler when he took too long to bring her sushi, and Adrien lowered his head like a puppy awaiting a scolding.

“Chloe, I-”

“Oh, now you want to speak.” She quirked a brow.

“I’m sorry!”

“What happened?” She demanded. “I needed your help, and you didn’t have my back. We could have exposed her!”

He averted his gaze. “I know.”

“Why didn’t you stick to the plan?”

“It just didn’t feel right. I panicked.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Next time I’ll do better. I promise.”

“Next time? No one in this school is going to believe anything we say about her now because you chickened out!” She jabbed his chest with her finger. “I hope your conscience is happy. You made me look ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! Maybe I should leave like Dupain-Cheng.”

“Chloe-”

“No! No more excuses. If you really want to stop Lila, then call me when you’re actually ready to do something,” Chloe said. With a flip of her ponytail, she shoved past him.

Adrien leaned against his locker with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. Mirror-Mirror didn’t have to show him what he was ashamed of—he already knew. He was a coward, and now everything was ruined.

[plumeriaheart]

Cosplay Surprise [Leviathan/F!Reader]

This is the third(???) smut fic I’ve written and I still feel awkward about it rip... But also, Levi is a precious boy!!! Pls I just wanna make him flustered for days and shower him in love and affection!!!

FANDOM: Obey Me!

RATING: smut with some fluffy undertones~ 

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

.

.

Perhaps you had been in over your head when you ordered the costume and wig from Akuzon, but when the packages arrive at your doorstep, you feel like you have to go through with it. What's the worst thing that could happen? Leviathan would call you a normie, but that's nothing new. You don't think he'd be mad at you for trying to cosplay one of his favourite idols – at least you hope he wouldn't be. As long as the cosplay doesn't look cheap, you should be fine, right? Now it's just a matter of trying the costume on and making sure you look as similar to Ruri-chan as possible.

You're happy to find that both the costume and the wig seem to be of acceptable quality; Leviathan would have your head if you dared to wear a cheap costume of his beloved Ruri-chan. The fabric envelopes you in a soft hug, complimenting your best features. You don't recognise yourself in the mirror at first, so unusual does the long blonde hair and the green outfit look on you – but you find that it doesn't look bad, per se.

Grabbing your D.D.D., you scroll through your contacts and select Leviathan, sending him a text to ask whether you could come over to his room right now. You don't expect him to reply straight away, knowing that he might be busy with one of his games, and in the meantime, you could see if you could put on some make-up to make the cosplay perfect. But before you can even grab your make-up bag, your D.D.D. rings, and upon glancing at the screen you see one text message from Leviathan.

Leviachan: Perfect timing, I could use your help with some co-op dungeons. The door's unlocked :thumbsup:

His words bring a smile to your face, imagining what kind of reactions you'd get from him. You're not against playing games with him, but if he reacts to your cosplay the way you want him to, there would be something more important to do.

You listen at the door to hear if anybody is out and about before you leave your room, quickly making your way to your boyfriend's room. You knock to signal you're there, but don't wait for a response – he did say his door was unlocked. In true Leviathan fashion, he doesn't turn around right away to greet you, mumbling a quick 'Hey' as he's executing something that looks like a complicated combat combo. You remain by the door for a couple of seconds, taking a deep breath and finally going to join the demon by his desk.

Your eyes quietly follow his character on the screen, watching as he decimates a group of goblins – he must be nearing the final boss of this dungeon, and you know better than to interrupt him during an important battle like that. It doesn't bother you, you enjoy watching him play. Watching him do something that makes him as happy and as focused as this warms your heart, and though you came to his room with less pure intentions, you don't mind waiting if he looks this into it. You may also be curious to see how long it takes for him to notice the way you look.

"This boss fight shouldn't take long. I managed to get my hands on the legendary sword of ruination – it has a drop rate of 0.1 percent! Isn't it awesome?! The cursed flame enchantment should be strong enough to one hit regular enemies, but this boss here is special! He casts a drain health curse on you when you enter his dungeon and to lift it you have to defeat him. If you can't defeat him and have to leave so you can level up first, the curse is gonna stay on you! lol I bet so many noobs got killed by this boss when it's SO easy once you think about it!"

His eyes are glued to the screen as he enters what seems to be the final stage of the dungeon, the music picking up in pace and a brief cutscene commences. Something that looks like a giant mutated version of the goblins he fought before appears, clad in spiked armour and wielding a giant axe which seems to be emitting green smoke. Before you know it, you find your own eyes glued to the screen, rooting for your boyfriend to win the challenge ahead of him. He furrows his brows as he smashes the keys more aggressively, then finally lets out a sigh of relief when the boss goes down in one final move. He's about to turn his head and show you a brilliant smile when he suddenly freezes – finally, he notices what you look like right now.

"R-Ru-Ruri-chan?!" He squeals, eyes wide open and cheeks burning red. As much as he tries to hide his blush behind his hand, it's still visible to you. His eyes flit from your hair down to your face, and finally to your outfit. He's not sure where he's supposed to look, there's so much to take in.

"Do you like it, Leviachan?" You ask in a singsong voice, putting on a sweet smile and tilting your head to the side. The demon lets out a whimper, unable to form any words. "I thought I could make you happy by cosplaying as Ruri-chan..." As you come closer, he reacts by leaning back. His eyes roam your figure, taking in every detail of your appearance and you believe you've never seen him blush so aggressively. He looks at you with a mixture of disbelief, shyness, and even lust.

Would you really do something like that for someone like him? He can't believe it, and for a few seconds, he just keeps blinking, afraid he might wake up and find his room void of you. But you're sitting in front of him, looking at him with an uncertain smile. Quick, he has to say something before you get the wrong idea!

"R-really? For… For me?" The words come out more unsteady than he wanted them to, and he curses himself mentally. But then you give him a reassuring smile, a nod, and he's over the moon. In one quick motion, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, burying his head in the crook of your neck. Leviathan can't find the words to describe how touched he is, but he's certain you can feel his heartbeat racing against your chest. Hell, he'd be surprised if you couldn't hear it at this rate.

You don't make any attempts to move, instead combing your fingers through his hair reassuringly. There is no denying that you enjoy the way he clings to you as if he had to make sure that you're real, that you're his.

"Leviachan?" You hum into his ear, taking pleasure from the way he shivers.

"Y-Yes?" His grip on you only tightens, head nuzzled further against your body.

"You can do more than just hug me, you know?" A chuckle escapes you as he looks up at you, eyes glassy from how flustered he is. Never in a million years would he have thought… Sure, there had been times where he fantasised about his favourite idol, but… Ugh, you're just too good for him! But you're here, in his arms, and the way you smile at him makes his heart flutter – a sudden wave of courage (and maybe desperate need) washes over him before his lips into yours. His kiss is clumsy, nervous and eager, but you've come to love the way his lips feel against yours. When you let your tongue caress his lower lip, he responds with an inevitable moan, allowing your tongue to meet his in a tender dance.

The kiss grows more forceful as he pulls you on his lap, and you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your core. Grinding your hips against his crotch, you feel his chest vibrate as he groans against your mouth, and, with one hand gently placed behind your head, he pulls you closer against him. His other hand travels down to your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh. The sudden intensity of the kiss awakens butterflies in your stomach, your soft moans swallowed by his hungry lips.

He only breaks away to look at your face, to see your flushed cheeks and your lips parted with longing – his own face mirroring your expression perfectly.

"I'm all yours today, Levi," an almost plea falls from your lips, dripping with affection and lust. The tips of his ears tinged a dark shade of red, he nods to himself as if to calm himself down. Any attempt to calm down right now would be futile, you think, but it seems to do the job for him as his lips latch onto the soft skin of your neck, gently nibbling on it before suckling on it. A hot sensation begins to spread from the place where his lips connect with your skin, and you can tell that he'll be leaving a mark on your skin. As if only realising this now, the demon licks along your soft skin, soothing the red spot he created.

"I-Is this… okay?" Levi's voice is laced with uncertainty, and he barely allows his lips to graze your shoulder while awaiting your response.

"Of course it is, Levi – I think it's exciting, seeing you this needy." Your words are accompanied by a slight giggle, running one of your hands down his chest ever so slowly. The way your fingertips create the slightest sensation against his skin lets him crave you more, and when you begin to unzip his pants, he lets out an unholy moan.

"W-Wait..." He breathes, and you do as he says, looking at him with curiosity in your eyes. "Can you… sit on my desk?" When he raises his gaze to meet yours, you can tell how much self-control it took for him to ask this, and who are you to deny him? You meet his lips in a quick peck before you get up, hiking the skirt up at your waist as you sit down on his desk. You lean back a little, watching him get up and placing both of his hands by your hips, his face mere inches away from yours. He gulps, running his left hand over your thigh and inching closer to your core.

You loop your arms behind his neck to keep him close, eyes glued to his face as his confidence begins to grow. With an excited smile, he allows his fingers to run along your panties, and another blush rushes to his cheeks when you let out a content sigh. His fingertips begin to circle your clit through the fabric, and you can hear him take in a sharp breath when he feels your panties growing damp.

"Does… that feel good, MC?" The demon asks, trying out different pressures to see which one can coax out the sweetest reaction from you.

"Do you even have to ask? I love when you touch me, Levi – please, keep going," you whisper, shutting your eyes as you allow the pleasure to run course your body. Your words are music to his ears. With his right hand, he lifts your chin to kiss you; almost getting lost in the moment when you part your lips for him instantly. But you seem to be okay with him being more adventurous today, and so he begins to trail further kisses down your clothed body. He kneels, tugging at your panties, awkwardly fumbling with them before he manages to pull them further down. When his lips connect with your thighs, you've all but forgotten that, focusing instead on the way his mouth inches closer to your aching lips.

He doesn't waste any time and begins lapping at your pussy, allowing himself to savour your taste with every stroke of his tongue. It doesn't take long for your moans to fill his room, along with the lewd sounds of him sloppily licking your pussy. Levi shifts between your legs and before you know it, he's placed your thighs over his shoulders, hugging you closer. His tongue explores your folds with fervour, your essence coating his mouth and chin in the process. It reminds him that you're his, that no one else can taste you nor make you feel this way, and his chest swells with pride. As you tip your head back in pleasure, you run your fingers through his hair, tugging at it and urging him to go faster. Hyper-aware of your needy touches, Levi gives in to your desire.

When he lets out a shuddery moan, you feel it reverberate through your entire body. He goes from eagerly running his tongue along your slit to sucking on your clit, enveloping the sensitive nub with his lips. A jolt of electricity runs through you when he clumsily grazes his teeth against your swollen clit, a choked moan escaping from your lips. Searing heat grows within your body, pooling at your core, and the demon can tell by the way your hips try to buck against his face.

"L-Levi, I'm… ahh, so close," you whine in between moans, and the way you say his name, dripping with pleasure, makes him shudder once more. Spurned on by your involuntary reactions to his tongue's administrations, he finds the confidence to slip his tongue inside of your heat. You arch your back as his muscle teases your core, feeling your walls begin to clench as the unmistakable wave of your impending climax crashes over you. Your fingers curl in his hair when your orgasm crashes down on you, a string of curses falling from your lips. Even through your orgasm, Levi keeps licking at your pussy, driving you to a point of pleasure and ecstasy that makes your vision go blank for a couple of seconds. It's only when the sensation becomes too much that you attempt to clench your legs together, that he stops and looks up at you, admiring the mess that you have become thanks to him.

You are painfully aware that the only sound filling the room is your ragged breathing, but it takes you a few moments to catch your breath. When you look down at Leviathan, you notice his mesmerised gaze – and the fact that he's stroking his cock for you, now freed from the confines of his pants.

"Can… Can you keep your clothes on for… for the next part?" He asks you as he slowly gets up, crimson tingeing his cheeks. Your eyes wander from his dishevelled hair down to his glistening lips, taking note of the way he hungrily licks them, before you nod. Still dazed, he takes your hands and helps you get up, supporting your wobbly legs by swooping you up in his arms. It's easy to forget how powerful Levi really is when he shuts himself in his room most days, his shy nature not doing him many favours in that aspect. But he is the third-born for a reason, you think as you look up at his face.

Gently, he places you down on the ground before he begins grabbing pillows and blankets from the bathtub. He throws them on the ground, arranging them in a way that he believes is comfortable for you. You can't tear your eyes off of him, enthralled by his appearance. You know that he doesn't think much of his looks, belittling himself more often than not, but you think that if he could see himself through your eyes right now, he'd disagree. Such a vulgar image it is, and yet you can't think of any other word than beautiful to describe him.

"W-Why are you looking at me like that…? Do you… Do you not want to go further?" His question snaps you out of your thoughts, a flash of concern washing over his face, and you shake your head right away – you feel yourself aching for his cock to fill you up, a need throbbing deep within your core. The demon looks relieved at your response, and his abashed smile makes your heart skip a beat. Grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie, you pull him closer and your lips crash into his. You can taste your own essence as your tongue slips inside of his mouth, coaxing a muffled moan out of him.

It's all the encouragement he needs as he gently pushes you down, your own hands roaming down his chest and tugging at his hoodie. He gets your hint, he really does, but Levi doesn't seem to be able to tear himself away from you long enough to remove the hoodie. His cock is already aligned at your pussy, the tip of it prodding at your entrance, but despite his need for you, he seems to drown in your kiss instead. There's a hunger in his kiss that takes you by surprise, so unexpected from the usually submissive demon. When your fingers find his length and wrap around him, his entire body shivers. With slow motions, you begin to pump his cock, the heat of it teasing your slit. His hips move intact with your hand without entering you just yet, eliciting a deep growl from the back of his throat. Levi only breaks the kiss to look at you, eyes searching for permission.

"Take off your hoodie and you can fuck me," you say breathlessly, and with a small whimper, he complies. You let your eyes wander his pale skin, watching the way his breath catches in his chest as you work his cock faster, a red flush of passion adorning his fair skin. His gaze finds yours once more, asking for permission and when you finally nod, letting go of his cock, he buries himself inside of you with one swift motion.

The moan falling from your lips fills the entire room, followed by many more as the demon begins to thrust into you at a frantic pace. His strokes are quick and sloppy, hitting all the right spots to make you arch your back in pleasure. With every thrust inside you, you feel your mind growing hazy with lust once more, and the only thing on your mind is him. Levi's eyes remain on you as he fucks you, taking in the way your lips part, the way your tits bounce under your clothes and the way your eyes roll back when his cock hits your sweetest spots.

He's not new to the way your body reacts to him and vice versa, but seeing you in that costume is doing sinful things to him. Once more, he finds himself picking up the speed before he leans down, resting both of his hands next to your head while his face hovers above yours. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss, moaning his name against his lips.

It's enough for him to lose control of himself entirely, pounding into you as your moans grow in volume. You can feel his climax coming on by the way his thrusts become even more frantic, slamming his cock into you rougher than before, leaving your legs trembling.

His cock twitches inside of you before his hot seed floods your pussy, a surge of heat washing over you. Though his movements slow, he keeps rocking his hips into yours, panting heavily.

"Ahh, s-shit shit, s-sorry," Levi whimpers when his movements come to a halt. You're still breathing heavily, looking up at him with a questioning expression on your face. "You… You d-didn't… I-I mean, was that… was that enough?" You realise that he's apologising for coming before you could, and with how flustered and apologetic he looks, you cannot help but giggle. His eyes widen ever so slightly and he pouts a little, about to protest when you cup his cheeks in your hands.

"Levi, listen to me, okay? You're always enough for me. No one else can make me feel this good, and no one else can make my knees weak in more than just one way." Your words make him whimper again, his lips desperately pressing against yours once more until you're out of breath.

"I-I love you so… so much, MC!" Levi stammers, squeezing his eyes shut so you don't see him tearing up over his emotions.

"More than Ruri-chan?" You hum teasingly, not expecting any answer as you give him a quick kiss.

"Y-YES!" He almost shouts, only realising how loud his words were after they left his mouth. "S-Sorry," he adds, more quietly this time. How can he make such a fool out of himself when you're beneath him, looking like the epitome of beauty and passion?! Not too mention, he's still inside of you and – oh god, he's so embarrassed! The only thing stopping him from crawling into a hole to mope is the way you look at him, so much affection in your gaze that warms his heart.

"I love you, too, Leviachan~" You hum with a smile, and all his anxieties seem to wash away just like that. How…?

"I know this wasn't the type of co-op battle you had in mind when you texted me earlier, but… maybe we should go for another round – to grind some exp, you know?"

You can't just say those things without a warning! How is his heart supposed to handle you when you say those things, looking like that!?

His immediate response is a whimper before he presses his lips against yours once more. This time, he's going to complete all of the requirements for this quest.

A/N: I definitely feel like I could’ve done more with the cosplay aspect of this fic, but also, I don’t even know what Ruri rly looks like so who knows?? 

[thatgoblin]

Small Town Affairs Chapter 2

Summary: Hazel is an Omega in the small town of Tin Springs, Midwest America. She's trying to live her life after breaking up with the local sheriff, John Walker, and his mate, Brock Rumlow. New people aren't something that happens often, but when a new pack comes to town her whole life goes from a small mess to a complete disaster in the best way.

Warnings: Domestic Violence, Assault, Sexual abuse, Himbo Bucky, Misogyny, will update as story goes.

Chapter 2

The rest of the day went by smoothly. The lunch and evening rush came and went, making time pass by quickly.

At a half hour till close, Clint came back in.

“Hey,” I said, waving to him with a smile. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going. Got our stuff unpacked and put up so that’s a relief. I was on my way to pick up dinner from the restaurant and decided to stop in and say hey, also thanks again for helping out our first night,” he said, moving the lean against the counter as he talked to me.

“It’s not a problem. Like I told one of your packmates, Helmut, we’re a pretty friendly bunch here,” I said, tidying up my area before shutting down for the day.

“Oh, he came by?” Clint asked, his brows raising.

“Yeah, him and I think his name was Bucky. They came by to get some groceries and Helmut asked about a plant nursery. I pointed him to the one on the west side of town,” I said. “Why do you look surprised?”

“Well, Bucky and Helmut usually keep to themselves. Especially Bucky. I guess it’s the small town just bringing it out,” he said with a chuckle as he began to fold a piece of trash paper into something.

“They were nice. Well, Helmut did most of the talking, but Bucky was courteous. It’s not often we get Alphas that aren’t forceful or dominating. Even if they don’t mean to, it happens a lot around here,” I said, printing out my end of day numbers.

“Yeah, I got that sense the other night,” he said with a cringe. “Does the sheriff always greet new people like that?”

I paused a moment, chewing on my lip as I thought of my answer carefully.

“It differs. Like I said, Alphas around here tend to be more old school and domineering,” I said softly, my smile gone. Any time John and Brock were brought up directly to me I couldn’t help but go quiet and submissive. It took me so long to start breaking out of my old shell and still I’d slip right back into it at the mention of their names. “I’d be careful of him. Just don’t get on his bad side.”

“Is he that scary?” Clint asked, his fingers pausing in their movements to lean forward as if we were sharing a secret.

“Hazel, why don’t you head home early today?” Peggy said as she stood in the office doorway, stopping the conversation. Whether it was to protect me or put a barrier up for Clint, I wasn’t sure and I wasn’t going to argue. “I’m sure you need to get cleaned up for your other job before heading over. I’ll finish up your register for you.”

“Alright, thanks,” I said, not wanting to argue. “Uh, I’ll see you around Clint.” Handing the sheets and keys to Peggy, I grabbed my thermos and purse before heading out the back door. Peggy was my boss and felt like family, but there were times that she was different. Mostly when it felt like she was trying to hide something, a switch flipped and she turned into almost a commanding officer. I liked my job and knew there was a limit with her if I tried to push back, so I didn’t bother trying to figure anything out. Some mysteries were better left unsolved.

I drove home to get ready for my other job. I told people I was a bartender at a hole in the wall in the next town over, but if they knew the truth, they didn’t say a word. Probably because they weren’t supposed to be there themselves. I packed my small bag before grabbing a quick nap and snack. It was dark when I left the house and twenty minutes later I was backstage at the Pink Pony strip club. The other girls and guys were all in various stages of getting ready as I stepped into a smaller, private dressing room.

First things first was, well, to strip. I put my comfy, warm clothes in the small bag before pulling out my costume for the evening. It was a black mesh and bedazzled number that left little to the imagination. The mesh kept it together and on me as well as double sided tape, lots of tape. I quickly ran a baby wipe over my arms and legs to dry my skin a bit which would allow for the smaller crystals and stones on sticky strips that were for decoration to stick better.

Well, for decoration and hiding blemishes and marks I didn’t want others to see. I had a lot of those that would identify me, but the sparkle helped cover them nicely with some make up as well. I moved on to fix my hair into a wig cap then pinned it down with almost a thousand bobby pins and nearly a whole can of hairspray to help keep everything in place. I would glue the front of my wig down before doing my makeup to blend everything together. Lately I've been using a dark ruby colored wig with lots of curls, I got a lot more tips with that one than my other neon yellow wig. Coming out of the dressing room, I spotted a work friend Kira who was just finishing her own costume.

“Hey, Kira, can you get my back spots please?” I asked.

“Yeah, sure,” the other woman said with a smile. Her own costume of chains and feathers jingled like tiny bells as she walked over to me. Almost all the dancers got along well enough to help each other out as much as possible. There were a few dancers that didn’t get along very well, but they were at least able to either avoid each other or were at least courteous. It made the job 100 times easier if things were hunky dory backstage. A few minutes later, Kira had finished and I was set. I thanked her as she went to go do her own show. I pulled my knee high boots on, double checked my makeup, then went to work.

The seating areas at the front of the house as well as the other four smaller stages for one person were filled and still there were people standing at the bar. It was busy for a Friday night, but I wasn’t about to get mad about it. The drunker people got, the more money they’d spend.

“Hey, Carrie,” my manager said, waving me over to the bar. All the people that worked there had a stage name, some for safety and some because it was fun. I wanted to fly under the radar and be left alone when I wasn’t on the job. I walked over to him, waving and smiling to everyone that paid me any mind.

“Hey, Nick, what’s up?” I asked, leaning against the bar next to him.

“I know you’re my girl when I need extra sessions, especially private sessions. You wanna take this group coming in later? There’s supposed to be six or so. Includes lap dances and pole work, maybe a few body shots. They’re paying extra for my best girl. You want it?” He asked as looked around the floor of the club with his one eye.

“Sure. I never say no to extra tips,” I said with a shrug.

“I knew I could count on you,” he said. “They’ll be here in about an hour. They called ahead for some reason. No one calls ahead.”

“Great, hopefully they’re out of towners and get drunk easily,” I said, looking over the floor as well.

“Let’s hope so, go ahead and let Holly know that you’re not on the main stage tonight so she can have it,” he said, motioning to a brunette who was chatting up a table.

“Yes Sir,” I said, giving him a mock salute and getting an eye roll in return.

I let Holly know of the update and made myself useful by helping with serving drinks, making sure to give the tips to the servers I was helping, did a few lap dances, and mingled on the floor to pass the time till my party got there. My shifts were shorter, just five hours, compared to others because I only worked the weekends and was lower on the pecking order, but I still made a good amount on the weekends.

A little bit before my group got there, I headed to the room I was told we were using to double check that everything was clean and in order before getting on stage. I was swaying on the pole when the group came in. I nearly tripped over my platform heels when I saw who it was. It was the new pack in town, including the Alphas I had met at the store.

Fuck me.

Thankfully I was able to grab the pole and make it look like I meant to swing further, spinning myself around.

“Hi ya, fellas,” I called, making my accent thicker and my voice higher to hide my real voice. “Glad to see ya’ll made it. I’m Carrie, what’re your names?”

Taking seats around my stage, they all ordered drinks when a server came in. At first no one said anything, looking at one another almost nervously before I stepped down the stairs towards them.

“Oh come on, don’t be shy. I don’t bite,” I said, giving the dark haired man with a salt and pepper mustache a wink. He was dressed in a wine red button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black slacks. It was all tailored to him instead of the usual baggy church clothes most men around the area wore. The material didn’t look like something from Walmart either. As I slid my hands over his shoulders and straddled him, getting a feel for his disposition, the shirt had to be a mixture of expensive fabrics. There was no other explanation for how soft it was without looking cheap.

“That’s disappointing,” he said with a chuckle, leaning back in the leather seat. “I’m Howard, that’s Thor, Bucky, and Helmut.” Howard pointed to each in turn from the blond with a beard and shoulder length hair that was pinned back in a half ponytail to Bucky and Helmut. “We’re new in town and figured we’d see what this place has to offer.”

“And what do you think so far, Sug’?” I asked.

“I think we found a good place,” he said, smirking looking me up and down.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said, standing from leaning over Howard. “Now, who wants a lap dance?”

“Bucky, why don’t you go first?” Howard said.

“Me?” Bucky choked as the drinks were brought in, set on the small side tables between the seats.

“You shy, Sug?” I asked, moving to pull an armless leather clad chair to the front of the stage. “I promise, I’ll be nice.”

“Go on, live a little,” Thor chuckled as he picked up his drink. Even in the dim, colored lighting, I could still see a bit of blush across Bucky’s cheeks as he begrudgingly stood up. The men cheered as he moved to the chair in front of everyone.

“Now, some small ground rules, boys,” I said, sliding my hand along Bucky’s shoulders as I walked behind him. “No touching unless I say so, ask like good little boys and you’ll get body shots, AND the bigger you tip, the more you get.”

“I like her,” Helmut said as he watched. The music started for me, something with a good beat that allowed me to tease and taunt. Bucky’s clothes were different for tonight, more like Howard’s really. It was a dark navy blue button up with the sleeves buttoned around his wrists. What was odd was that he had leather clothes on. They were tight around his hands and while I usually wasn’t one to question someone’s fashion choices, I also wasn’t complaining as I took his hands to slide down the sides of my body as I faced away from him. My ass was inches from his face, letting me lean over to twerk for him.

It was common to smell arousal, the need from Alphas and Betas and Omegas alike when I gave performances, but Bucky was different. His scent was coming off in wafts, no hindrance at all. It was intoxicating and easy to get lost in. Especially being so close to him. All the dancers used neutralizing spray to keep our scents to a minimum, adding manufactured floral or fruity scents. I was so glad that I had put on an extra layer that night. When it came time for the tips from Bucky, it took a bit of prompting to put the bills in fun places.

“Put the bills down your shirt or the waist of your pants,” Howard said with a laugh. Usually I hated when customers did that, but with this group I didn’t mind. With slightly shaky hands, Bucky slid a few bills under the belt of his slacks as well as down the front of his shirt to peek out.

“Jesus, Howard, you’re going to get us kicked out,” Bucky huffed at his friend, shooting him a glare before looking down when I had squatted in front of him. Slowly, I slid up his body, making sure to grab the bills with my teeth to end with the tips of our noses touching. His steely blue eyes were wide open, his small gasp letting me smell his breath that had traces of mint and whiskey. Had it been just us, I would have been even dirtier, but with an audience most customers didn’t want to get too turned on.

“You did good, Sug,” I said with a grin, moving to sit directly in his lap as I plucked the rest of the bills from him to shove down my top. I gave him a kiss on the cheek before turning to the group.

“Who’s next?”

Thor took his turn, much happier to have a scantily clad person in his lap. He was fun too. Apparently he was from Scandinavia or something and was new to this type of club. I figured they had strip clubs abroad, but he seemed to be tickled to be in one now. Howard had his, showing off exactly how much he knew about dancing with how he knew where he could touch without getting in trouble. Then there were body shots between the dances that all the men took part in. After a couple, they were all pretty loose and goofy, even Bucky who was laughing and smiling wider.

The last dance of the night was for Helmut and that man was the one I was most worried about. Despite being the smallest Alpha there, the man had something about him that was alluring and almost dark. It was the same with Bucky and when both of them were together it felt like I was in one of those cartoons where the scent of fresh baked treats floated through the forest to beckon the lost ingenue to it. While Bucky had been nervous though, Helmut was not.

He wasn’t cocky like Howard or playful like Thor, no the man was steady and was moving with me almost. I would go to one side and his nose would follow, barely touching my neck and shoulder. His beard would tickle my chest as I peeled off a layer of mesh to let him motorboat me. The dance was intense and when I was done, I was sure that the neutralizer wasn’t working. Just like the others, he got a kiss on the cheek before letting him up.

Despite my fear of being recognized, no one said a thing. Overall the group had a good time, tipping generously as I finished on the stage.

“Now, I hate to say it boys, but that’s all the time there is for us. Make sure to come back and see me Sug’s,” I said, winking at them. They had paid for almost 4 hours and my shift was nearly up, but I would have rather kept servicing them the rest of the night. Especially Helmut and Bucky.

I waved to them as they all got up and left, Howard leaving more tips under his empty glass as he held back. “How about one last lap dance? Hmm? I’ll make it worth your while,” he said. The man had been leaving hundreds all over the place in my room, Nick would understand if I spent an extra fifteen minutes getting the house tips that way.

“Sure, have a seat, darlin’,” I said with a smile, sliding from the stage to the floor. I pushed him back into the chair when he hadn’t sat just yet, earning a surprised look.

“So, out of curiosity, do you do parties?” He asked, looking up at me as I straddled him, holding onto the back of the chair as I moved my body to the music.

“Never been hired to do one out of the club. Usually we keep them in house,” I said, rolling my hips over his thighs.

“I see. So, if I wanted to book you specifically for an event, would I just ask the manager then?” He asked, his eyes roaming over my body. It wasn’t out of the norm for customers to do that as they talked with us, but it felt off with Howard. Like he was acting the part of a customer instead of being one.

“Yup, his name’s Nick. He’s at the bar right now probably, he’ll be the guy with the eye patch,” I said with a hum. “Why are you so curious how things work here? I heard you new people were from New York. You must have fancier clubs there than this nowhere town.”

“True, but there’s a certain charm to this place,” he said. “My mate seems to have taken a liking to the town, especially a certain Omega at a grocery store he’s been seeing.”

“Oh yeah? Good for your mate, though if you’re here and not at home, I’m not sure how good that is,” I said, feeling my heart pick up pace. What the hell was he doing? How did he figure it out without even seeing me at the store?

“Clint, my mate, says the sheriff here is kind of odd. I haven’t met him yet myself, but small towns always have those sort of secrets don’t they?”

“You’re in the middle of the midwest in a small town, Sug’. There’s secrets everywhere. Everyone wants to save face despite hating the people they wanna impress,” I said. This was Clint’s Howard? Did Clint know then? He added me on Facebook, but I rarely posted more than work stuff for the store and even then I had nothing to say that I worked at the club.

“What about you? Do you have any skeletons in your closet, Hazel?” He asked, whispering my name. I stiffened, standing up to glare down at him.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but leave the money and go,” I said firmly.

“Look, I’m not trying to cause any trouble,” he said, holding up his hands.

“Uh huh,” I said. “I don’t care what you were thinking or doing, but your time is up and you should go. Now.”

“Look, Clint said some weird stuff about the sheriff and said you acted funny around him and when pressed about it. Why?” Howard asked, standing up as he pulled out a wad of bills.

“It’s entirely none of your business and honestly, stay away from the sheriff if you know what’s good for you,” I said, reaching out to snatch the money from him as he held it out.

“Well, I would, but he likes to make house calls and greet everyone,” he said. “I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it if it didn’t worry Clint and my pack, okay?”

“What do you mean, house calls?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

“The sheriff came by to see us, going almost door to door to introduce himself. Usually people don’t do that unless they’re trying to prove something or if they have something they want to stay hidden,” Howard said. “I was out when he came by, but enough of the pack was put off by it that it became a concern.”

“Just don’t put your nose in other people's business and you’ll be fine. Sheriff Walker just likes to make sure everyone knows he’s the one in charge,” I said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Howard said with a sigh.

“How’d you know it was me anyways?” I asked as he turned to leave.

“Clint said you had a weird birthmark under your left ear, that it looked like a crescent moon. Also when I pulled up the website, he recognized you from a promotional picture,” he said, his eyes trailing over my face. “But it’s not a birthmark is it?”

“You better go before security thinks you’re holding me hostage,” I said, gathering all the money as well as the glasses onto a server’s plater. If Clint figured it out, did Bucky and Helmut? Fucking hell.

“I’ll see you around, Carrie,” he said, giving a small wave before leaving the room.

I watched him leave the room before exiting myself, going right to the dancers room. There I sorted the bills before giving the house mom a tip and paying the house a cut. Sitting down, I took a bit to catch my breath and grab a snack. Things that had been simple were suddenly getting so very complicated. I had my second job for nearly six months now and was doing fine with keeping that part of me a secret. Things were steady, kinda boring, but steady. I needed that to get on with my life. Maybe it was time to start saving up to move to a new place. Somewhere far from the small town that was eating me alive.

“Hey, Carrie,” Kira said, coming into the room. “Your weekly visitor is here.”

Another thing to just make the night crap.

“Thanks. Tell him I’ll be out in a minute, I’m just changing,” I said, giving up on the last half hour of my shift. Usually I would have worked the floor more, but he was early this week. As quickly as I could, I took off my costume and accessories before wiping myself down then changing into my usual clothes.

Walking out the door for the night, I had made sure to get the money ready beforehand, wanting to hand it off then leave.

“Hey Sweetheart,” a gravelly voice called from a picnic bench next to the back door. I looked over to see Brock sitting there with a stupid smile on his face as he smoke a cigarette. He was lit up by a lamppost that was supposed to give us a good range of vision. Most of the time it just made everything orange and looked like it was from a horror movie. With Brock waiting for me, it felt like one. “I didn’t cut your night short, did I?” He asked, standing up to his full 6 foot four height, to throw the butt of his smoke on the ground and grind it out with his boot. I put my shoulders back as I marched over to him, pushing the envelope of money into his stomach. With Brock I couldn’t show hesitation or weakness, the man was a predator that would go for the throat the moment it was shown.

“There’s your cut,” I said, turning to leave.

“Uh-uh, you know the rules,” Brock said, grabbing my elbow tightly. Growling, I moved back over to him as he counted the money.

“Can you hurry up?” I hissed, pulling my hoodie sleeves down over my hands as I shifted my feet in wait.

“Calm your ass. I’m just making sure,” he said, not even looking away from the bills. “Ah, see, this is why you wait. You’re $300 short.”

“That’s because John decided to stop by the grocery store this week and bother me,” I said. “Per our deal, if either of you interact with me beyond necessary needs, you get less money.”

“Not $300 worth,” he said, looking up at me.

“He was an ass and I’m in a mood, so just take it and go,” I sighed, adjusting my bag strap on my shoulder.

“Not how this works, Sweetheart,” he said, holding out his hand. “Fork over the other $300 and we’ll call it even. I’ll talk to John and remind him of our agreement. After that, if he still decides to be an idiot, then you can give less money, but not till then.”

“That’s not what you said,” I snarled. “I’m not paying you to sometimes stay away. So that’s what you’re getting and nothing more till next week.”

“I don’t know who you think you’re dealing with, but I can assure you that it’s not nice guy John who you can just sweet talk,” Brock said, grabbing my arm hard to jerk me close. “Now, either give me the money or I make things really hard for you at your regular job. You know, the one where everyone likes you enough to pity you instead of whispering about what you really are.”

“Let me go, Brock,” I growled, trying to pull away from him.

“See, this is making the price go up. Now we’re at $400 that you owe me. Wanna fight me some more and make it higher?” He asked, tightening his grip on me.

“Fine.” Pulling out my wallet from my bag, I grabbed the extra money for him. Waiting as he counted it out, he slipped it into the envelope with a smirk.

“See, was that so hard?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Fuck you, Brock,” I said, wanting to just go.

“Oh no, no, no,” he growled, his hand shooting out to grab my face and force me to look at him. “We are not going to start that attitude. Understand? I can remind you why you hate me so much if you really want me to. It’s no skin off my back to take you home and fuck that look off your face.”

“Let go,” I grunted, struggling as his grip tightened.

“Not until you promise to be a good girl,” he sneered. The music to the club was loud, making it impossible for anyone to hear me scream for help or even know there was something happening. The music also covered the sounds of footsteps approaching us as Brock easily lifted me onto the picnic table to pin me down, making me lose my bag as I held onto his arm to try and pry it off with a cry.

“Hey! Get off her!”

Brock’s tight grip on my face kept me facing him, hiding the people who were coming over to us. It didn’t stop me from struggling though.

“This isn’t your business, fuck off,” Brock snarled, making my hair stand on in. John was a bully, someone who could only get so rough before feeling bad. Brock was a fucking monster. Something I’d wished I’d known before being with him. Just the sound of his voice raised and angry had me trembling.

“That’s not how this works,” another voice said as they got closer. “Let her go now.”

“Or what? You’ll call the cops?” Brock scoffed.

“No, we’ll just kick the shit out of you.” That voice I knew, making my stomach roll. They should have all left by now, what were they doing still there?

“Brock just go,” I managed, hoping he wouldn’t do anything. “Just take the money and go. I’ll pay extra next time.”

“Damn right you will,” he grumbled as he let go of my face before backing up. “She’s all yours. A heads up though, she likes it when you bite her.” Brock chuckled as he walked away, probably planning something for next week. My stomach rolled at the thought.

Sitting up, I swallowed hard as I hopped up on shaky legs to grab my bag. I kept my face down as shame threatened to set it on fire with how hot it was. I was near tears as I picked up my bag, my hands so unsteady I almost had to drop my stuff.

“Are you okay?”

My hair only covered so much of my face, but the people had seen everything already. I wasn’t hidden anymore.

“Look, uh, just. . . It’s fine, okay? It was just a misunderstanding,” I said, seeing Helmut recognize me. “You guys should go.” There was a confusion of sorts as his brows furrowed together, but he didn’t say anything. Before anyone else could say anything, I started off towards my truck, hoping that I would be able to make it without tripping over my own feet.

“Wait,” Helmut called as he followed. “Please.”

“I’m leaving for the night. It’s fine, I promise,” I said, putting on a nice smile as I stopped. Everyone loved my smile at the club. They said it was warm and friendly with a little spice. “It was just a mix up, that’s it. Thank you for checking on me though.”

“At least let me walk you to your car. You look shaky,” he said, trying to be a gentleman. I wanted so badly to let him, to have someone who wanted to help me instead of use me, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do that to him when there was so much more that could hurt him and the others.

“I think your friends are waiting for you actually, but thanks,” I said, my eyes watering as I kept forcing my smile. The last thing I needed was anyone getting involved between me and my exes That would just make the mess even bigger. Worse, I liked Helmut and his friends. Him and Bucky specifically. I didn’t want them to get in trouble or tangled up in my stuff. They didn’t deserve that.

On the way home, I had to pull over to keep from driving off the road. My vision was cloudy from tears and I couldn’t breathe. Things had been so good for me and now shit was hitting that fan. Why me? I didn’t do anything wrong! I played by the rules and got nearly killed only to escape and think I can leave it all behind. Why can’t I just be free of this!? I screamed as I hit the steering wheel, so mad and hopeless that nothing else had work. About ten minutes later I had calmed down to a sniffle and was able to see properly. I put my truck into gear and drove home.

I pulled into my short driveway to see everything was still the same there at least. I trudged in to put things up before bed, almost not caring enough but knowing I would be pissed in the morning. As I flopped onto my mattress after changing into my pajamas, I got a text.

[Brock SMS:] You owe double next time for the trouble.

Fuck.

[raywritesthings]

Bird in a Storm, 10/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Quentin Lance, John Diggle, Helena Bertinelli, Raisa, Joanna de la Vega, Ted Grant, Female OCs, Male OCs Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

So far, so good, Laurel kept telling herself over the next week. Mr. Khan and his shop remained unharmed, those thugs hadn’t made any reprisals or found her out, and the police hadn’t come knocking on her door. She was in the clear.

But the clear wasn’t good enough. One night wasn’t good enough. If she was going to make any real difference in the Glades, she was going to have to keep on with it.

Time to get serious.

It was hard knowing what to do or how to proceed outside of just saying she would to herself, though. After all, even if she didn’t really want to imitate the Hood in all matters, she had to admit Ollie’s vaunted list gave him an itinerary. The best she could hope for would be to wander around and wait for crime to happen. Not that that was a far-fetched prospect in the Glades.

But she couldn’t just stand around at night in a ski mask, either. That would give people the opposite idea of what she was going for. So then, maybe some updates to her look were in order.

She reflected on this as she entered the thrift store. Ostensibly, she was grabbing some things for the approaching warmer weather, but she wasn’t above browsing around for ideas. Was a scarf too Western? Would it fall off too easily?

Beside the clearance racks where she’d picked out a new shirt was a small bin labeled ��free”. Maybe she wasn’t absolutely destitute, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a look through.

Most of it was clothes that were completely out of season, not to mention fashion. A toy car that was missing one wheel and a few ugly patterned scarves were also in amongst the clutter.

Her thumb snagged an elastic band and she pulled out a black domino mask. Probably discarded from some Halloween costume. Laurel studied it for a moment, then slowly lifted it towards her face.

It’d be less sweaty, and easier to breathe in. Cheap as this one was. Maybe it’d be better to save up and make her own. She’d continued practicing hand-sewing during the slow hours at work, in the event that she might develop small holes or tears in her clothes that could be patched up instead of thrown away. And hand-stitching had other uses considering what she was planning.

Laurel left the mask in the bin and took her other purchases up to the register, mind still racing with ideas.

She’d need more than a mask to conceal her identity. But she didn’t want a hood. If she was doing this, she didn’t want to be seen as only some lackey of Oliver’s. This was her own mission, her own way.

A head covering in general would limit her visibility plus make her stand out pretty readily. She needed something discreet. Laurel didn’t have fancy arrows with lines attached that could pull her up the side of a building in moments. She had to be able to make a getaway, even in a crowd.

She needed to look like a woman.

It was so simple when it hit her. So long as she could be any woman — just some woman, with great hair and a body — they would never bother to see past the mask. She just had to not look like herself too much, that was the key. Dye was too permanent; a wig would disguise her hair better.

Over the next week she made the necessary purchases, each at a different shop and in cash. The important thing was not to let it be traced back to her.

As for weapons, she looked into something she could carry on her person. A baseball bat was way too conspicuous for a woman in her twenties to be walking around with. Eventually, she was drawn to a collapsible bo staff. She’d seen staffs hanging on the wall at the Wildcat Gym and knew Oliver used them for sparring practice with Mr. Diggle. It was a weapon she felt comfortable using with some practice, which she nudged a reluctant Ted into.

“I just want to try different things, you know?” She’d said with a casual shrug. “No point getting pigeon-holed.” Losing her job as a lawyer and realizing she had no real backup plan had taught her that the hard way.

She went out the first night she got all her gear together, knowing if she hesitated that she would find a way to talk herself out of it. The long hair of the wig swishing around her shoulders was a familiar weight. With her hands shoved in her jacket pockets — one hand over the staff and one hand over the mask, she walked around, watching and waiting.

Only she didn’t really find anything, other than a few catcalls. The next day, she saw there had been a reported mugging halfway across the Glades from where she’d staked out.

It was like this over the next few nights. She wasn’t where she needed to be or she’d get there just after she was needed. It occurred to her that this was probably why Oliver tended to stick to his list; it was full of ongoing problems he could investigate and then decide to attack in his own time.

She didn’t have the luxury of a base of operations or the ability to get into and out of high rises safely, though. And she wanted to be on the ground, handling the problems Jerome and Mrs. Ross had talked about. The problems she saw every day. She’d just have to get lucky.

The next night, she did.

The only gas station in the Glades was hit up for a robbery just as she was passing by. Laurel caught the flash of a gun out of the corner of her eye through the store window and quickly ran to the wall, flattening herself against it to get a better look. Two men, one pointing the gun and the other shoveling money from the register into a bag. They weren’t even bothering with ski masks, just hats pulled over their hair and jacket collars popped.

She glanced up at the security camera pointed at the front door. Its light was off. It wasn’t on, or perhaps it had never been plugged in.

Laurel got out her mask and extended the staff.

The door banged open as she stood and landed a hit low on the first man’s legs just as he ran out. He toppled over, his face smacking into the pavement. His partner in crime stumbled over him right into her fist, falling back against the wall. Laurel wrenched the gun out of his fingers and took note of the safety. Still on. The clip was empty. She shook her head.

“Who the fuck are you?” The guy on the ground spat. There was blood on his lip.

“Just someone in the neighborhood.”

With two hits of her staff, they were both knocked unconscious. She picked up the bag of cash, opened the door again, and tossed it towards the counter at the clerk, who was watching with wide eyes. Laurel didn’t wait for a response, knowing her priority was now to get as far away from the scene as possible.

Her heart pumped with adrenaline as she fled several streets away, a wide grin stretched over her lips. She had done it, and it still felt great. What did a few boring nights matter if every so often she could manage something like this?

Of course, it began to take a toll on her schedule. She woke up later, didn’t have near as much time before work to get her day started. She saw the few friends she had less.

Joanna took it the hardest. “I’m not gonna see you at work when I go back, Laurel. And sorry, but you don’t have the excuse of being too busy to have a social life anymore. So do you just not want to be friends?”

“It’s not that, Jo. Never. I’m just… trying to work out some things. Figure out where my life’s going.”

Her friend had scoffed over the line. “Well let me know if I’m still in it.” She’d hung up shortly after.

It was easier now to see things from Oliver’s point of view; how he’d tried to maintain relationships without letting slip what was really going on in his life. It made her miss him fiercely.

They hadn’t talked much since after Mr. Merlyn’s hospitalization. Ostensibly, they still weren’t supposed to be friends, after all. And Laurel hesitated to reach out to him about her new nighttime activities; something told her he wouldn’t approve.

Well, that wasn’t Ollie’s job to approve or not, so it was simply better for the both of them if she kept it to herself. He had enough on his plate seeing as the Hood was still going out at nights, taking on the elites in this city.

She was just doing her part where she could, making sure the people he was trying to help got that help sooner rather than later. It was his upbringing, she knew, that caused him to see things the way he did. The big picture instead of the small.

Laurel would aim to improve things from the bottom up while he continued to work from the top down. Maybe they’d meet somewhere in the middle someday.

She did her best to brush aside that sort of wishful thinking. It would be silly to think after everything that there was any sort of future for them. She didn’t even know what future there was for herself.

But as long as she could do something good, she would keep going.

---

Anita was starting to wonder if her Avó had been right about coming to live in Brazil. These past few months in Starling had been crazy.

It wasn’t as if she hated it at Avó’s either. She loved the cooking, loved the weather, loved the language. The only trouble would be, as always, money. Jerome wasn’t near fluent enough in Portuguese to find good work, and she couldn’t be too sure of it herself. They were just getting by in the States, and as long as that was enough for them she’d be happy to stay.

She’d gotten lucky. While other girls had been chasing after gangbangers and potheads in school, her Jerome had gotten a job to support him and his grandma. He’d always been the responsible type.

His grandma had passed three years ago, and the medical bills and funeral arrangements had put a strain on their finances, enough to convince them to sell the old house to a developer and start renting. A real estate agent had assured them the Glades was going to start gentrifying and that they’d be able to get a good price.

Only the sale hadn’t yielded as much as they’d hoped, so they’d remained stuck in the Glades instead of moving to a better, safer neighborhood. It didn’t bother her so much right now. But in a few years when they might have kids on the way? She wanted them going to good schools, not the poor excuse for school she and Jerome had attended.

They did their best to save, but there was always something coming down the pipe they weren’t expecting. At least they didn’t have a car. The repairs would be killer.

There was always crazy stuff going on in Starling City these days, too. Ever since some guy had decided to become a souped up Robin Hood last fall and take out his anger issues on a bunch of rich folks. As long as he kept it to them, Anita didn’t mind so much. For the first several weeks or so, it had created a buzz of conversation through the neighborhood. This guy was trying to change things, maybe. And in some cases he did. Here or there, people got their money back.

But the wealthy were good at consolidating what they had. Companies transferred from corrupt CEOs to corrupt board rooms, money disappeared before it could be returned to the right owners. And this guy liked to drop bodies. That part, Anita wasn’t so keen on.

Because there were people getting more violent in the Glades now, too. Drug dealers, young and angry men unsupervised by the old mob hierarchy. This Hood didn’t seem to have a backup plan for any of that.

Jerome was frustrated by it far more than she was. “I mean, did we ask this guy to come here and fight for us? Stir up trouble? Did he come talk to any of us, see what we wanted?”

“No, he didn’t,” she dutifully agreed before bringing out both their dinners. She kissed him on the cheek as she went around him. “But it’d be hard for him to ask around without giving the game away, huh?”

“Yeah.” Jerome dug into his food and there was quiet from his end of the table for a while. “You know, the guys are saying there’s some woman out there now.”

“A woman?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well, good for her.”

He grinned. “You like that? They’re saying she’s a real, how’s it go — right, gata.”

Anita arched an eyebrow. “You gonna leave me for her?”

He kept grinning. “Never, baby, you know me better than that.”

“Then she can be as good-looking as she wants.” Anita pushed her plate aside and came over to him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. “I don’t mind.”

At work, she started hearing the rumors, too, over the next few days. “Nobody knows where she came from,” said Lanh in hushed excitement as they stood one sink apart. “But she gave a man following my roommate home a black eye the other night.”

“No kidding?”

“Yeah. It’s cool, isn’t it?”

No killing, dealing with stuff in the neighborhood. It was like someone had come in and asked around or sat in on their talks, then decided to make all their wishes and hopes come true in the form of a lady in black leather. Seemed crazy, but that was life now.

She stopped by next door to see Laurel, wanting to get her opinion. After all, wasn’t she here because of her support for vigilantism in the first place?

Only when her neighbor answered the door, it was clear she’d only just finished stitching up a nasty cut on her arm.

“Ooh, honey, what happened?”

“Just a work accident. Shears, you know?” Laurel let her in and hurriedly cleared up some bloodied napkins. “What’s up?”

Anita decided to leave her questioning behind. “Just wanted to see if you were free. We should have a night out, you know?”

“Okay, your place or mine?”

Anita waved a hand. “I was thinking a little more exciting than that. They’re saying the Verdant’s finally opening.”

Laurel raised both eyebrows. “Are they?”

“Mm-hm. Wanna check it out?”

“I don’t know…”

She leaned over the counter towards her friend. “Come on. Nights in only feel better if you go out sometimes, too. Variety’s the spice of life.”

“It’s going to be packed,” Laurel pointed out. “We’d be lucky to wait in line for three hours before getting in.”

“Couple of good looking girls like us?” Anita grinned. “Besides, you know the owner.”

Her friend shook her head. “Oliver and I aren’t that close anymore.”

“Right, which is why you call him Oliver and not ‘Queen’ or ‘my cheating bastard of an ex’,” said Anita. “Come on, billionaire boy owes you a million favors, so why not call one in? It’ll be fun. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

She watched Laurel debate it for a few minutes. “Alright. But if he says no, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He said yes, clearly, because Laurel sent her a text that afternoon saying what time they should be there. No mention of a cover fee either, which was interesting. She’d have to meet billionaire boy herself to be sure, but if Anita’s intuition was any good, she’d say Oliver Queen was still pining away for her neighbor despite his cheating past. So Anita would be happy to drink his booze and help her friend kick him to the curb if need be.

They walked to the Verdant together, skipping the line entirely by going through a back door Laurel had been told about. A man just about shorter than Jerome but beefier greeted them inside. “Laurel.”

“Mr. Diggle. This is my neighbor, Anita.”

He nodded to her. “Pleasure to meet you, miss.”

“You too. Swanky place,” she said, getting a good look around as she took steps further in. The bass was already vibrating in her bones.

“Um, if you could pass on our thanks to Oliver. I’m sure he’s very busy tonight,” Laurel was saying.

“I’m sure once he’s finished showing his family the place that he’ll be making the time. Mr. Queen’s been doing some re-evaluating lately. But I’ll let you enjoy your evening.”

“Re-evaluating?” Anita asked as they left the man to head out onto the main floor.

Laurel shook her head. “Let’s not get into that. I think our first drinks are on the house.”

The drinks were excellent, it turned out. Here and there they met a scant few familiar faces, and Anita introduced Laurel to them. She couldn’t help noticing that most of the patrons clearly weren’t from around here; too many Rolexes and real jewels on wrists. Looked like the gentrification had finally begun.

“I’m going to get us another round,” she spoke loudly into Laurel’s ear. Tonight wasn’t for thinking those kinds of things. It was for just letting loose and pretending life wasn’t so crap sometimes.

As Anita returned with the drinks, her pace slowed. There was a woman with dark hair standing behind her friend and gripping Laurel’s arm tightly. Anita ducked around a couple chattering away to get closer without drawing attention to herself.

To her surprise, Laurel seemed to recognize this stranger. “Helena?”

“Laurel, good to see you. Almost didn’t recognize you,” said the woman.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing personal, but I heard about your fall from grace. Must’ve stung when you realized Oliver wasn’t really there for you. He never is.”

“Let me go, Helena.”

“Sorry, but you’re my insurance policy. We’re going downstairs to wait for Oliver, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll come quietly.”

Anita had just about heard enough. She looked around frantically for the security — they were either at the doors or far against the walls and couldn’t see them out here in the throng of people. So she did the next thing she thought of.

“Hey!”

The woman turned towards her direction just in time for Anita’s drink to splash in her face. She staggered back, gasping in shock.

And that was when Laurel sprang into action.

Anita had been planning to take her friend’s arm and run for it, but Laurel’s arms were moving and the woman was down on the floor in seconds, her arms pinned behind her back. She kicked out with both feet, heel gouging Laurel’s leg. Laurel gave a grunt that was only barely heard over the music, sitting on the woman’s thigh hard.

“Hey!”

“What the—”

“Is it a fight?”

“Yeah! Awesome!”

There was a small crowd growing around them, and Anita felt herself pressed between people on either side. Laurel’s arm bore long scratches while she held the woman’s head in a lock Anita could swear she’d never seen outside WWE.

“Excuse me! What’s going on here?”

Anita’s eyes bugged out as suddenly Oliver Queen cut through the crowd on her right. His eyes widened for a moment before he plunged in and grabbed Laurel around the waist, pulling her off the woman. Once she was set down behind him he yanked the other woman up as well, pulling her towards the exit.

The man who let them in before took Laurel’s arm and guided her after them. “Come on, Laurel,” she thought she read off his lips.

Anita rushed after them.

Oliver Queen was shouting at the woman named Helena when they all got outside. “If you ever come after someone I care about again—”

“My father—”

“Is no longer your concern! You do not have any business in Starling, Helena, and you will stay far away from here. Or else.”

Helena’s eyes flashed with anger, but she stalked off into the night.

“Wow,” Anita breathed in the silence. Oliver Queen looked a little surprised and discomforted to find he had an audience.

“Um…”

“Figured it was better for appearance’s sake if both parties caught fighting were escorted out,” Mr. Diggle said.

“And she’s my friend, so I’m sticking with her,” Anita added in explanation.

Oliver Queen nodded before turning to Laurel, one hand touching her arm. “Are you okay?”

Laurel shrugged. “Just fine.”

“What were you thinking?” He asked next. “Helena is dangerous—”

“So I was supposed to let her take me hostage?” Laurel finished for him, eyes narrowing.

“She’s a killer, Laurel.”

Anita’s eyebrows rose at that.

“And I had it taken care of. She was hardly going to kill me if she wanted to take me somewhere.”

The two of them were in each other’s faces, close enough to share the same air. She doubted either of them noticed.

“If something had happened—”

“It didn’t. Can’t you focus on that?”

“But it could have!”

“There’s no point to wondering what could have been, Ollie! Believe me, I’ve tried!” Laurel turned around and started marching away from him, the effect ruined somewhat by a slight limp.

Oliver Queen sighed. “Laurel, wait. Let Digg look at your leg.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Then let me call you a cab. Please.”

Laurel paused, and Anita took the opening. “We’ll take a cab, yeah.”

Laurel fixed her with a frown.

“Honey, you’re bleeding.”

A few minutes later, they were bundled into a cab and leaving the Verdant. What a night out. Jerome was never going to believe this. She’d heard the odd thing here or there since Laurel had moved in and knew of her gym classes, but damn, her friend was a brawler when she wanted to be!

They were halfway home when it hit her. “Shit, that was mob girl, wasn’t it? Huntress or something? She was the one going around whacking her dad’s people.”

Laurel sighed. “Yeah.”

“Okay, then billionaire boy might have a point. Cause they were saying that girl was nuts, you know? Not somebody to get mixed up with.”

“Wasn’t trying to, believe me. But I’m not going to go along and let things happen to me anymore, Anita. That’s not who I am.”

“Probably a good attitude to have in this town. Maybe I should pick Capoeira back up,” she mused.

“Capoeira?”

“Afro-Brazilian fighting style. I took classes after school for a bit, like the Irish girls that do line dancing, you know? There was a place down by our old laundromat. Wonder if it’s still open.”

“We could take a look together. If it’s okay for others to learn,” Laurel added after a moment.

“Sure, but aren’t you busy as it is at that gym?”

Laurel shrugged. “I could make time. And anyway, we’d get to see each other.”

Anita smiled. “Alright, we’ll check it out. But after that leg of yours is better. You’re gonna need it in good condition, believe me.”

They got out in front of Laurel’s and Anita helped her into the house, insisting she help get the leg cleaned up at the least. “You got something to numb that?”

“Not really.”

“Tell me you don’t have work first thing tomorrow.”

“I can manage.”

Anita pushed her hair back. “I mean, what did that bitch want anyway? Why’d she try to take you somewhere?”

Laurel shrugged, her eyes on the floor. “She dated Ollie a few months back.”

“Oh.” Jealous ex to the extreme, then. “You need anything else?”

“No, you should get home.”

“Okay, well just text me, alright? Get plenty of sleep.”

“I will, Anita.” Laurel stiffened when Anita leaned in to hug her. It took a moment for her friend to relax in her arms. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Anita let herself out so Laurel wouldn’t have to get up right away. The younger woman still seemed a little stunned; she suspected Laurel had been the big sister and minder to so many people over the years that she’d forgotten what it was like to have someone looking out for her for a change.

She and Laurel signed up for an intermediate class after they both tested into it; her because of her prior experience and Laurel because she was already quick on her feet. Anita could tell the class was going to kick her butt and complained to Jerome about it for hours as he rubbed her feet after the first lesson.

“Guess someone was a little jealous of that woman in black after all,” he teased.

“Yeah, just you wait. My legs are gonna look fantastic. You’ll be picking your jaw off the floor.”

As the days went on and there were more growing rumors of this woman in the Glades, she felt herself newly inspired. When women looked out for each other, it made the neighborhood all the better.

Though the more she heard and the more she watched Laurel’s determined look in their classes, the more the mysterious woman seemed less like a stranger, and more like someone she knew. Crazy as that sounded.

---

Quentin had taken to keeping an ear out for crimes in the Glades. It both increased his blood pressure and soothed his nerves, because the amount of criminal activity coming out of there was unheard of. But so far, his daughter hadn’t been mixed up in any of it.

Statistically, he worried it wouldn’t last. But what could he do? He’d raised her to be fiercely independent, and his initial bad reaction when Laurel had perhaps been at her most vulnerable ensured she would never take his charity. He was lucky enough that she was still speaking to him, especially after he’d brought her mother over for a truly appalling attempt at reconnecting.

He still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He couldn’t blame his estranged wife entirely for what had happened to Sara; it wasn’t as if she could have known what would happen out at sea. Bitterly, it occurred to him that by the same token, he couldn’t blame Queen then, either. Even if the man himself believed it, he hadn’t killed Quentin’s daughter.

Even more distressing, perhaps, was how much and how little Queen and Dinah had done to try and make amends with Laurel respectively. Where Queen had been nothing but repentant, Dinah had given excuses. She hadn’t even seemed to truly grasp what she had done wrong until Laurel had spelled it out to her.

She’d left a couple weeks ago, shaken and doubly discouraged when Laurel’s old friend at the Chinese embassy had confirmed the girl in the picture with the Rockets cap wasn’t their baby girl. Just another young woman who had bought a baseball cap on any ordinary day. He hadn’t given Laurel that news yet; he suspected she’d already guessed.

He picked up and then set aside the photo on his desk with his two girls. In some ways, he felt equally distant to them these days, though he knew he was kidding himself. The damage he’d done to his and Laurel’s relationship was entirely his own doing, not a random act of nature. He should stop wasting the time and make amends.

“Got a situation on 7th and Shane Street,” an officer announced to the bullpen, snapping Quentin out of his reverie. “Might need a couple detectives, cause we’ve got witnesses.”

Quentin stood. “I’ll go.” 7th and Shane was right in the heart of the Glades. He didn’t think it was all that far from that flower shop, come to think of it.

He drove over to find a bus pulled to the side of the road. It didn’t look to be damaged any. The driver and a few passengers stood around, the latter group all waiting for rides. A few men lay on the ground, welts on their faces and black eyes starting to turn into ugly bruises as they were cuffed by the officers. He ducked under the police tape and walked over to the group of witnesses.

“Alright, can anyone tell me how this whole thing started?”

“It was the hijackers,” a man near the back mumbled.

“The what?”

“The hijackers, man.” He was nudged by a woman at his left, probably a girlfriend or wife. She eyed the gun at Quentin’s belt warily. He carefully reached for a notepad and pencil to keep his hands occupied with that.

“And who are these hijackers?”

“They’ve been hitting the buses, usually on payday, sir,” the girlfriend spoke up. “Part of a newer gang.”

“Uh-huh. Was the SCPD informed of this?”

There were murmurings. Everyone too afraid to say yes. He frowned.

“How long ago did this start?”

“Little after the Bertinelli mob fell, sir.”

“It’s been horrible. They take everything you got. Money, jewelry, smartphones. We’re sitting ducks the whole route home!”

There were a bunch of voices shouting at him now, all wanting to be heard. One woman’s voice in particular stuck out amongst the group thanks to its heavy accent; an older woman in a housemaid’s uniform under her coat.

“They wanted my chotki,” she said, showing them all a black rope with many knots and beads in a few places, tied in a cross at the end. “It is wool and wood, what could they want with that? They were brutes. But she saved us.”

“She?” Quentin asked, stepping towards her. He thought he recognized this woman. Wasn’t she one of the Queens’ people?

Scarcely had he thought it before Oliver Queen himself came running up to the yellow tape. “Raisa!”

“Mr. Oliver!”

Just his luck. Quentin headed over as Queen lifted the tape to let Ms. Raisa out. “Just a minute,” he called.

Queen turned back to him. “Detective Lance, I came here to make sure Raisa got home safely. She’s been through enough for one night.”

“She’s not in trouble. I just need her to finish her statement. Now, who is ‘she’?”

Ms. Raisa shrugged. “No one really knows. They call her ‘the woman’.” She smiled warmly. “I believe tonight she was an angel.”

“Right,” he said.

“Was that everything, Detective Lance?” Queen asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, alright. Get her home.”

The two of them left, Queen leaning down to ask his housemaid a question Quentin couldn’t hear. He turned back to the group which was gradually starting to disperse. There were no useful additions other than someone saying a woman showed up a few minutes after the hijackers forced the bus to pull over.

The Hood. Now the Woman. Just great. Why had this city all of a sudden decided to go nuts?

He swung by Laurel’s place on his way back to the station and knocked. No one answered after a minute, but the light was on. He knocked again, louder.

“Just a second!” His daughter called out. She wrenched the door open in leggings and a blue tank top. “Dad! What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I visit my daughter?” His bravado covered his nerves, but relief was his primary emotion as she stepped back to let him inside.

“Were you on a call somewhere?”

“Yeah. There’s been some trouble with the bus routes. You don’t ride those often, do you?”

“Just to visit Joanna at her mom’s. Or to get downtown if I needed to.”

“Yeah, well stay off them at night, alright? There’s been gangs hitting them.”

“I know.”

That drew him up short. It occurred to him that these days, Laurel perhaps had an even more advance warning on crime in the Glades than he did. All the more reason to hate this arrangement.

He watched with narrowed eyes as she lowered herself onto her couch with a wince.

“What’s wrong with your back?”

She stiffened and winced again. “Oh, just work. I was lifting a lot of mulch bags today.”

Quentin shook his head. His poor girl had always had a willowy build. She was delicate, even if he’d made sure she knew how to defend herself in a tight spot. “You’re not meant for this kind of work, Laurel. We gotta find you something else.”

“This is doing me fine. Besides, I’m pretty sure to get law work, I’d have to leave Starling.”

“Shouldn’t have discouraged you from taking that corporate job in San Francisco,” he muttered.

“Well, I’m glad you did,” she told him. “I’m glad for the help I was able to give people at CNRI and for the help I can hopefully still give people here.”

He sighed. “Hopefully. You know, you can do anything you set your mind to, honey. I really do believe that. But what’s your plan here?”

She smiled. “I’m figuring it out, dad. I promise.”

He left soon after, since he was technically still on the clock at the precinct. Laurel told him she would head to bed shortly to rest up, and he made a note to grab some of those icy hot packs for her at the store. He thought he could play it off like an overdue Christmas present to get her to accept them. Hell, he owed her enough Christmases and birthdays from the last five years he could probably supply her through next March. If she was still breaking her back doing this work by then.

Laurel wasn’t the only one who needed a plan. Quentin had been keeping an eye on Daily in the close to two months since he’d been back on the force. There were no obvious slip ups, but he could just tell there was something off about the man. Call it his gut. Now with this bus hijacking situation having been swept under the rug for as long as it had been, he was starting to wonder just how many of his own people he could trust.

Was it genuine malice or just apathy for a neighborhood that saw enough hard times already? He wasn’t sure which was worse at the end of the day. But it was causing unrest, causing more and more people to turn to alternate means to seek justice.

By the end of the week, they saw an example of the worst of it; some guy in the subway tunnels committing extrajudicial killings and calling himself the Savior. The Hood had been forced to put him down to save the likes of that kid Harper. The Hood at least seemed to understand that vigilantes couldn’t be allowed free reign of this city, even if he continued to operate in it.

So he finally made the call.

Quentin stood out back behind his apartment building, the vigilante phone in his hand. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the precinct when he made this call. Just thinking about if someone caught him in the act — maybe Daily, maybe Hall with her earnest regard for the law — had his hands shaking.

“Detective?”

“Yeah, listen, we gotta talk. With everything going on in this city, with the force, I’m having trouble deciding who to trust. Now I don’t trust you,” he wanted to make clear. “But you’re a known quantity. I know what you want, what you’re willing to do.”

“And how does that help you?”

“It helps me because I think there’s some people on the force I can’t trust, and I don’t know what they want either.” Could be money, could be they felt threatened, could be they were always rotten. “Now I know you’ve figured out how to spy on us. I need you to tell me who’s on the take.”

“It’s not something I was concerning myself with.”

“Well start concerning yourself with it. You want people to stop popping up like this Savior or this Woman, it starts with law enforcement being a trusted and respected institution. You can’t tell me you expect things to magically stay better whenever you finally decide to hang that hood up?”

There was a long pause. “I’ll look into it, Detective. Keep the phone on you. I’ll call.”

Then the line went dead. Quentin breathed in and out once and headed back into his building. He hadn’t exactly done anything wrong. He’d simply pointed out an issue the Hood had likely been tangentially aware of and asked him to direct his attention towards it. Whatever happened after… well, maybe he was partly to blame.

Would Laurel ever call him a hypocrite if she found out about this or what?

[nightwingshero]

Hold Me Down Chapter 2

Yasss! Not only did I find the original chapter, but it’s way better than it was before. I’m super happy for this one! @ja-crispea @chazz-anova @faithchel I thought it would be important for you to know what happened with Wren and her ice cream, because let’s be honest, that’s the true ship of this fic. There’s the twist, spoiler alert. Wren x Ice cream.

It was a hot day, hotter than what it had been for the past few days. I huffed as I made my ascent, my ponytail swayed, sweat gathering at the back of my neck and my shoes slapped against the ruined tile as I went. A small plastic bag in one hand, and a large brown bag cradled with my arm. I was eager to enjoy the rest of my day in my apartment, eating ice cream and wallowing in my self-pity before coming up with another score. My pride was still wounded from getting caught. It pissed me off even more when I had found a chip in my throwing knife. Fucking bastard.

I hated grocery shopping only due to the fact that I didn’t like being around people. Dutch often joked to us darkly that we were in the business of people. Just that most of the time, they ended up dead. He wasn’t wrong, and perhaps that was what twisted my stomach so much. Despite him taking me off the street and teaching me everything all he knew, creating who and what I was, I could never come to agree or appreciate his values. I didn’t like killing and cutting my emotions out was nearly impossible. I was his greatest failure but was far from his greatest disappointment. No, she would always hold that place.

I freeze when I come to my floor, eyeing the man leaning against the wall next to my apartment door that was cracked open. He had a hand in his pocket, the other fidgeting with the toothpick in his mouth as he looked at his shoes. I could tell that his dark tan suit was cheap, his longish dark hair swept back just a bit, and I couldn’t help wrinkling my nose in disgust from his demeanor. I could almost guarantee that he was showered in cheap cologne as he used his false confidence to throw his weight around and I crinkled my nose at the sight of his badge on his belt. Cops. My veins turn to ice as I eye it, fear twisting in my gut. I had been so careful. But I square my shoulders, because I know my rights well enough that he needed a warrant.

“Can I help you?” I asked, my voice curious and a bit annoyed. He wasn’t welcome here, not from a long shot, and I wanted him out of my space.

He looked up, his brown eyes sweeping over me before giving me a lopsided smirk. “Well, hey there.” He straightened, shifting his weight. I eyed his stubble and his hair was gelled and combed back half assed. I fought the urge to rip into him, I didn’t need a detective who believed he was nothing by a womanizer sniffing around me. “Wren Blake, right?”

“Who’s asking?” I replied, narrowing my eyes at him.

He just chuckled. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“We?” I asked, glancing in my apartment. A woman stood taking pictures with her cell phone in gloved hands. Her dark hair was braided to the side and shined in the light my living room as she took pictures. His partner, I was sure. Her suit was crisp, the black blouse unbuttoned a bit to show off the golden cross around her neck. It’s fast, the way I take her in, but I was trained to be observant. One of the reasons I had survived as long as I have. But I’m tense as her dark eyes find mine, stern and professional. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Do you have a warrant? Because breaking and entering is illegal, Detective.”

“You bet your sweet ass we have a warrant.” The man cut in, taunting me with a smirk. “We’ve been keeping an eye on you, sweetheart. You think you could charm your way out of this?”

“Pratt.” His partner scolded before giving another glance around the apartment as she lowered the phone. She barley acknowledged the underlining threat as she turned and studied me. “Wren Marie Blake. You are wanted for assault, larceny, false pretenses, and I believe there’s a count against you for arson. There’s more, should I continue?” Her voice is confident, borderline cocky, but I don’t rise to the bait. “Wanted in many cities, at that. Word is you made quite the splash in Los Angeles. You’ve been busy.”

“And you didn’t answer my question.” I shot back, shift my weight to my other foot as I adjust the paper bag full of food. “Do you have a warrant?”

The woman took a step forward, her eyes drilling into mine. “You’ve got one helluva rep sheet, Blake.” She whipped a piece of paper out in front of me and I frowned. “And I’m going to need you to come with us.”

I sigh, glaring at the floor by her feet. Defeated, I sigh. “Fine, but can I at least put my food away? I have ice cream in here.”

 I couldn’t tell you how long I waited in the interrogation room, but it felt like hours. The room was only lit by shitty fluorescent lighting that gave the room a more eerily feel. I could almost roll my eyes from the drama of it. I leaned back and crossed my arms. I knew they were doing this on purpose, a tactic I wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with. It didn’t really do any good, all things considered. If anything, it gave me time to prepare for whatever they were going to slap me with and asking for a lawyer was the card up my sleeve if this went south quickly. I was ready for every scenario.

The door opened, bringing my attention from my inner musings and to the four people that had graced me with their presence. Two of them were the same detectives I had seen earlier, Thing One and Thing Two. An older man stood next to them, to the side with big glasses and a weird mustache. I could take a guess that he was the Captain of the precinct, but I wasn’t for sure. The other man was pretty much bald, his hair cut tight against his head, and a goatee that almost had me laughing. His dark skin looked almost pale with the lighting of the room, especially with the cheap blue suit and white oxford shirt underneath. He held himself with an air of authority that put him on a pedestal. I groaned internally. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get along with this man.

He slammed a file down on the metal table, watching me close for a reaction, and I raised a brow at him. It was apparent he had an air for dramatics. “I’m Special Agent Cameron Burke, this is Captain Whitehorse, and you’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Detective Pratt and Detective Hudson.” Ah. He was a fed. That explained so much. He leaned against the chair in front of me as he stared me down. “You see that? We have a whole file against you. You’re gonna go away for a long time.”

I just continued to stare at him, unimpressed. “Yeah. It’s a file. That was a little unnecessary, don’t you think? Things echo in here.”

He sneered. “You think this is funny? A game?”

“No, on the contrary, I find this rather irritating. What so-called evidence do you have against me?” I replied icily. I didn’t have the patience for this, I wanted the hell out of here. He smirked and flipped open the file, spreading pictures and documents across the table.

I kept my face neutral, still unimpressed, but my insides were panicked. I schooled my expression as I studied the black and white shots of me doing different jobs in different cities. Some in wigs, different outfits, and even one from last night before I had walked into the charity gala. I studied the bank statements from an offshore account before I looked at him. “What’s this supposed to prove? Other than the fact that you’re stalking me for no reason?”

Burke scoffed, a dark glint in his eyes. “We shook down one of your fences, Blake. I’m sure Victor Boshaw rings a bell?” He pushed a photo forward of the gruffy bearded man, and right there next to him, was me.

Victor “Sharky” Boshaw was a fence I had been using for a few years, first meeting in Montana. He was completely erratic an unorthodox, and definitely obnoxious. There wasn’t ever a boring moment with that idiot. But I could always depend on him to move whatever I brought him, and he always gave me a decent price. One of the few people in the market that didn’t screw me over, and as off-the-wall he was, he wasn’t snitch. Sharky always had my back, I knew better. He wouldn’t say a damn thing.

I glared at him. “You’re starting to sound like my father who is telling me its illegal to have friends.”

His face burned as he shoved the chair out of his way, slamming his hands on the table. I jumped as he growled at me. “I’ve had it with your bullshit!” I pursed my lips as his eyes pinned me down. “Look, I’ve been onto you, watching you for a few years now. I know you have ties that you try to hide. I’ve been trying to pin down Dutch and that entire organization.”

I paled immediately, swallowing as I felt my body become weightless. That wasn’t expected. “What?” I breathed out and he smirked.

“That’s right, princess. I know all about that.” He slowly straightened, crossing his arms as he began to circle me. “Taking teenagers off the streets, kids that have no future or have been victims of tragedy. Training them young is key, isn’t it? Teaching how to steal, trick, and to read people. Running cons…but it gets a bit darker than that, doesn’t it? That’s just tip of the iceberg.”

I clench my teeth as flashbacks hit me. The abandoned factory had lighting much like this room. It was always cold in that damn place, and the memory sent a chill down my spine. I hated that building. I hated the way that I had looked up to him as a father figure as he put a knife in my hand, and a gun next. Hand-to-hand combat, knife throwing, shooting…the real operation was far darker than stealing diamonds from a plastered elite.

He grabbed the back of my chair leaning to talk in my ear, the smell of his hot coffee breath fanned across my face. “Training future hitmen and assassins in the underground is definitely something the FBI is interested in taking down. I’ve tracked your every step; I have eyes and ears everywhere. Sounds like a certain someone is pretty upset that their perfect little protégé turned her back on them.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. How the hell had he found out? My palms became sweaty, my heart racing as thoughts flew through my mind. I wanted to scream out of frustration, but I knew I couldn’t. That stupid male detective, Pratt, wouldn’t stop smirking and I was ready to claw his face off. My pride was shot to hell and I was pissed that he had known.

“It would be…such a shame if someone were to leak your position to them, wouldn’t it?”

Pure dread settled in as anger raged through my veins. I clenched my fists tightly. “What’s your point?” I hissed. Burke moved again, walking away with a sickening swagger.

“Well, despite the fact that we’re hunting down Dutch and his posse, it occurs to me that well…it seems a bit pointless to use you to track him down with you being defective.” I flinched at his word choice when he finally turned back to me. “The DA believes he has a bigger issue than what us feds have going on, being less concerned for the bigger picture. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Seed family by now?” I furrowed my brow as I looked at him. “I’ll take that as a yes, then. Perfect. That makes this easier.”

“What do they have to do anything? What’s your point?”

Hudson stepped forward with another file, placing it down like a normal human being. “Joseph Seed is at the head of a major crime family, as you know.” Flipping the file open, she placed four pictures in front of me, pointing as she went. “His brother Jacob is in charge of security and running guns. He’s involved with underground fighting rings and training their personnel. His military background helps him out, obviously.” His beard was gruffer than Sharky’s, but his red hair was to the side, with a tight cut on the side. Scars littered his face, almost like burn marks. She would recognize those anywhere. “Then there’s the little sister. The little angel. We don’t have much detail on her, but as far as I know, she seems to be the one recruiting. She’s also their loan shark, so to speak. She also helps set up deals for this one,” she lands on a picture of a man I’m all too familiar with. “In particular. And he is hard to tie down. John is their lawyer, and he’s a damn good one. Knows how to read people like the back of his hand. He’s known for extortion, blackmail, and a few others. He has a lot of important people in his back pocket, making him practically untouchable. And as scary and dangerous as Jacob is, John is the one to look out for. He is known for cutting into people as punishment and is merciless.”

“Grade A psycho.” Pratt muttered with a twist of his mouth and his eyes cast downward.

“The point is, if I had to choose, he’s going to be the most dangerous to you.” Hudson continued, and I looked up at her confused. They hadn’t known about what happened a couple nights ago, did they?

“What do you mean?” I asked. “What the fuck do I have to be worried about? That sounds like your problem.” I replied with a snarky tone, and Hudson glared at me with her jaw ticking.

“Its your problem,” Finally, the Captain spoke and stepped forward a bit. He tried to seem confident, but there was a weariness that I couldn’t exactly place. “Because you’re going to be working with them.”

I stared at him as I let it sink in, and turned my gaze to the fed. “What?” I whispered harshly.

Burke seemed to be enjoying this a little too much as he grinned like the damn Cheshire cat. “We’re going to use those skills of yours to our advantage, since you’re here with your hands tied and off Dutch’s radar. You’re going in as a double agent for us. You’ll be feeding us intel as you spy on the family and help us take them down by providing incriminating evidence that will put them away for life. Things that even the baby brother can’t weasel out of.”

“Are you fucking insane?” I breathed out, eyes wide. “You want me to be a mole? Do you know how hard it is to get into a family like that? And assuming that, by some fucking miracle, I do…you know what they do to people like that? Do you have any fucking idea what they would do to me? They would kill me after making an example of me, you know they would!” I snapped. Frustration was so close to turning to tears as I shifted in the metal chair, but I quickly blinked them away.

“Then I suggest not getting caught.” Burke sneered. “But you would die for a greater cause, Blake. Maybe that makes you feel better.”

“And if I say no?”

He leaned forward slowly, menacingly, and got in my face. “You’re either with us or against us. You either do this…or you go to prison. From my position, it doesn’t seem like you have much of a choice. But what do you say? You in or are you out?”

   I walked quickly in the Georgia night, anger and determination fueling every step. I stopped only to light a cigarette, inhaling and savoring the burn in my lungs. I was nothing but a bundle of nerves. They had told me the family would be at the club tonight, celebrating something, but their intel was good. My mind reeled, trying to come up with a plan that could even work. I hadn’t told Burke that John and I had already met, making this nearly impossible. I contemplated approaching him, admitting what was happening, and then getting the hell out of dodge. But the feds were following my every move now, and there was no guarantee John would let me walk away from that meeting alive.

I was going to do this my way, at my pace, and on my own. I had insisted. A dead informant wasn’t exactly beneficial. They laid down the ground rules with check ins and all that. I wasn’t allowed to leave town, let alone the state. I had to stay where they could keep an eye on me at all times. Something told me that Burke had a control issue.

I looked at the half-smoked cigarette before throwing it on the concrete, smashing it with my heel. My black dress hugged my curves tightly, the plunging neckline just subtle enough to keep the classy look. I kept my hair down again, curled just a bit. I pulled it up a bit, adjusting the top so my boobs weren’t spilling out. I sometimes loved this side of it, dressing up in cute, and even sexy, outfits. Sometimes I absolutely hated it, and tonight was one of those nights. I had planned to take it easy for a while, but after the loving conversation with the officers earlier, I had a change of heart. Apparently.

All it took for the bouncer to let me in was a bat of my lashes and coy smile, which I dropped the second I crossed the threshold. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but a dark lounge wasn’t it. Not that I complained at all, considering that I’ve had a rough day so far. I took the dimmed lights, the neon accents creating an ambiance of something I couldn’t quite describe. But it was as if I had stepping into a completely different world. I could get lost to the music playing through the speakers as a group of people danced.

Making my way to the bar, I motioned for the bartender as I folded my hands in my lap with my clutch. I smile brightly at the younger man. Blonde, curly hair with bright eyes, and maybe just a little too eager. I lean forward just a tad, a small smile on my lips. “Martini, dry with extra olives.”

He gave a quick nod before hastily getting everything together, but I paid him no mind. I searched, my eyes scanning face after face, desperate for the target. Detective Hudson had sworn they would be here, no doubt in her mind. Well, good for her. That didn’t ease my doubt one bit. Then again that she had to say could, I felt like I was being fed to the wolves. I hated every bit of it. The bartender returned, placing the glass down gently. I knew he was waiting to engage, but I just grabbed it and kept my attention on the crowd. I wasn’t here for social hour. I was here to watch. And so, I did, taking a sip of my drink.

I spot the sister first. A perfect white short dress with sleeves, her hair falling in waves and her ankles are crossed, ever the lady. Then the rest came into view, my heart pounding hard. A red-haired woman sat with her, holding her hand. They had mentioned that there were significant others, spouses, involved, and as I find Joseph Seed, I see his blonde wife with him. His hair is long, pulled back into a bun, and even though it was late at night and inside, he wore yellow aviators. Just like he had in the photo.

“I believe,” a voice called from behind me, and I freeze for only a second as he placed his hand on the bar behind me, his breath ruffling my hair as spoke in my ear. “I told you the next time I saw you, I would kill you.”

I take another drink as he moved from me, circling around with his eyes on me before taking the seat next to mine. Finally, I found my tongue and spine. “I think it was ‘if I catch you doing this again, I won’t hesitate to kill you’. If I remember correctly.”

John gave a charming smile, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “You think you’re clever.”

“No, I know I’m clever.” I scoffed, taking another sip, my eyes falling on his family again. I finally see his other brother, Jacob, standing with his arms crossed in his grey shirt.

“How cute.” he taunted. I opened my mouth to say something, but that’s when I see her. It takes all the years of my training to maintain my composure, because there was nothing I would love to do than to let the glass in my hand shatter against the floor. Rowan.

She looked the same, just a few more years older. Her dark hair was still long and wavy, her bright smile hadn’t changed a bit. It’s a shock that I can’t really shake, because she’s there, after all these years. I had thought she died, someone finally hunted her down. That’s what Dutch led us, me, to believe. To prove and show what happened if you turned your back on the family. And yet, here we both were, survivors of the dark world Dutch had brought us in.

I feel a hand on my knee the second her dark eyes catch mine and move away, not even hesitating as she looked around the room and the hand squeezed, bringing my attention to the company I was keeping. “I warned you about coming near my family.”

I turned to him with a glare. “You threatened me with your family’s name, and if I’m being honest here, I’m getting tired of it, Johnny.” I sneered, shoving his hand off my knee. I grabbed the toothpick out of my drink, angrily eating the olives. I glanced over again, but she continued to laugh in that dark green dress, like she hadn’t seen a blast from her past. As if she didn’t know me at all. It stung, but I couldn’t tell if her noticing me was a good thing or not. She would blow the whole thing before I could even get started.

John’s mouth twisted and I felt my stomach sink in dread at the realization of what I had just done. Rowan was just one issue, but I completely forgot the one sitting with me. “Better be careful, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire and you’ve been warned already.”

“And you owe me a new knife, Johnny. They are custom made and expensive, and due to your carelessness, the one has a chip in it. Where shall I send the bill?”

“You’re not as charming as you think you are, darling.” He leaned in with a sneer, his eyes promising danger. “And my patience is running very thin with it.”

I leaned forward, my nose crinkling unimpressed. “And you’re not nearly as scary as you believe you are. Now, if you don’t mind, run and get the big bad brother. I’m above dealing with the baby, Johnny Boy.”

His hand flew back to my leg, squeezing and digging his fingers hard into the meat of my leg. My back straightened as I clenched my teeth from the mix of pain and something else. I kept my composure the best I could, but I never hated John Seed more than I did in this moment. Pure loathing like venom on my tongue for the way he always found the upper hand.

“Would you like another, miss?”

I turned to see the young bartender smiling at me, his eyes wandering down before meeting my eyes again. “No.” John replied, throwing the guy a charming smile. “She’s just leaving.”

“Cool. Well, it’s on the house.” He said, throwing me a wink. I gave a fake smile as he walked away.

“It most certainly is not on the house.” John snapped. “I’m not paying for your drink.”

I raised a brow at him. “Oh, the big-time lawyer owns a bar and can’t afford to buy a lady a drink?”

“It’s a lounge.” He growled at me. “And you are not a lady.”

I smirked, my hand finding its way back into my clutch. Grabbing what I was looking for, I quickly press the tip of my knife against his inner thigh. He stiffened, and my burgundy lips curved even more. “Now, I think that you should know a few things about me, darling.” I leaned, my lips finding his ear to whisper. “I don’t like it when men feel the need to put their hands on me without my permission, no matter how big they think they are. And when they do, well…I’m very skilled with knives, John. I’m sure you can use your imagination. Now, if you don’t mind.” He slowly removed his hand, and as he did, I shifted, rising from the barstool. “Thank you. You’re such a dear. Here’s to hoping our next meeting is as lovely as this one.”

“You should hope we don’t meet again, sweetheart. Because I’m not going to be so kind anymore.” He breathed out, his voice ice. I placed a kiss on his cheek.

“If this was you call being kind, then I look forward to seeing the big bad wolf. I don’t mind playing rough. Just make sure you can take it as well as you can dish it.”

I move away before he can register and react. My heart was hammering in my chest, shocked by what I had just done and cursing myself. I was supposed to get in and win them over, and instead I was antagonizing the youngest and one of the most crucial members of that damn family. The one that I needed to watch out for even before any of this happened. And no one knew. I made the decision to keep it to myself out of fear. If they thought I couldn’t do it, I would’ve been done for. I needed to play along until I could find a way out of this damn mess.

I took a turn, a block away from the lounge, and I started to relax. The fear of him coming after me melted away with each step. Passing a dark alley, I slowed to light a cigarette for good measure. A hand slapped my cigarette and lighter out of my hands, and another grabbed a fistful of hair, painfully yanking it back. Fear pierced its way into my chest as I tried to fight back, a black bag being shoved over my head. I screamed, punching and kicking blindly. I suddenly felt sharp pain at the base of my neck, and I dropped to the ground.

  `The bag got yanked off harshly, and I squinted from the bright light. It took me a moment to adjust, and then I was finally able to take in my surroundings. I was in a mansion, that was obvious. Marble floors with weird ass designs that rich people swore made them look classier. That was a fucking lie. There was a double staircase wrapping around the room, and directly across from me, the double doors were open and gave me a good view of their pool area at night as thin white curtains danced in the evening breeze.

I go to move, but find my wrists and ankles were duct taped to the chair I was sitting in. It was then that I finally took account for the bulky men in black, standing around quietly with their hands clasped behind their backs. “Well, look who decided to wake up!” A loud and obnoxious southern voice pierced my eardrums, making me cringe. An overweight older gentleman began to make his way towards me, a cane in his hand. He wore just a polo and tan dress pants. I made a face at his sleazy appearance, the slicked back hair and stupid mustache. “It’s about damn time. We have some business to discuss.”

I sighed heavily, a sneer on my lips. “Oh, you got to be kidding me.” He stopped his advance for a moment, glaring at me. But I didn’t care. Tossing all caution to the wind, my anger got the best of me. “I’m not in the fucking mood for any of you. Do you know what kind of day I’ve had? Seriously? What is this? Some backwash hillbilly mob family from the fucking Georgia swamps? Is this what I’ve come to? Which one is the jackass?” I snapped.

His mouth twisted, and he moved faster than I had given him credit for. The sting of my face and the blood that filled my mouth was the only way I registered him hitting me. I spit out blood on his floor, some running down my chin as I slowly gave him a death glare. “Now I have your attention. Damn women.” He turned to the side, eyeing an older blonde in a red dress. She pursed her lips as she held her head high. “None of you listen. It’s why they should never do a damn man’s job. But here we are.”

“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” I growled.

He scoffed. “Hurk Drubman Sr. I own one of the biggest marinas in Atlanta, selling sailboats. Also give those damn Seeds a run for their money when it comes to smuggling and gun dealing.”

“Haven’t been giving them much of a run, darlin’.” The blonde mocked with a smirk. He muttered something before turning back to me.

“I heard that you’re gonna help those damn feds take ‘em down. That true?”

I just stared at him, my face twisting in shock at the absurdity of the situation. “Where the fuck did you hear that?” I asked, completely exasperated.

“John fucking Seed isn’t the one with ties in the fucking police department.” I frowned, but he didn’t give me time to process that. “Either way, they’re undermining my slave trade, beating my gun deals—”

“Your…what?” I asked, hoping I heard him wrong.

His sick smile grew wider. “Slave trade, girlie. Sex trafficking. Its what’s making most of my money with that damn family taking the most of our business. And if you’re a good girl, you won’t have to worry about it.” A shiver went down my spine as I tried to wriggle in my restraints, but he paid me no mind. “Now, I know you cut a deal with those pigs downtown, but don’t worry about that. What I need you to do, is spy on them and get me information that will help my business grow.”

I sighed, giving up and glaring at the old man. “Are you serious? You expect me to play the Seeds and the feds? What the hell is wrong with this city?” I breathed out. “You’re insane. I would be lucky to even get close—”

“You got pretty close tonight.” He snarked back. “Left a pretty little mark on little Johnny’s check, my men say.” He walked, a cane in his hand as he limped forward. “We can do this the easy way, which is you agreeing and being a good little girl, doing what she’s told. Or, we could do this the hard way. I torture you, force you to agree, and if that doesn’t work…well, I could sell you or kill you. We could flip on it, make it a surprise.”

I forced the bile back down as my stomach twisted. I glanced to my right, catching the eyes of the old woman. She held a frown, glaring at her husband. When her eyes caught mine, she gave the slightest smile and nod, almost reassuring. “Well, let’s assume I say yes and do this, what do you plan on doing? You have the feds on my ass, and if your men aren’t totally blind, they would know that John and I aren’t exactly friendly. I don’t know what you expect.”

“I would like you to learn the ins and outs. Nothing too different than what you’re already doin’. Except you’re gonna give the information to me, frame the family, and take them down from the inside, while I get all their business.”

I made a face. “Oh, you’ve been watching way too many movies. There’s no fucking way—”

The end of the cane was pressed against my throat, cutting me off completely as I gagged. “There is a fucking way.” He leaned in closer, the cane pressing harder. I fidgeted, trying to catch my breath. “And I know something the feds don’t. That tonight hasn’t been your first run-in with John. They know you went to that stupid charity gala, but they have no clue what happened. Johnny can be handsy, can’t he? Especially when he finds out you’re workin’ a job on his turf.”

Stepping back, he finally removed the cane. I took a greedy breath of air. “Then you know that it’s going to be impossible. He hates me. And I would take him ignoring my personal space over this. He isn’t the one that has kidnapped me and tied me to a goddamn chair.”

Hurk laughed, with a shake of his head. “Not yet, he hasn’t. You think is bad, sweetheart? Oh, you’re not that smart, are you? Johnny would have you in the dark with knives digging into that pretty skin of yours, and he would be more than happy to do the honors. And he’s done it to men who have done less than what you’ve done already. People don’t get a second warning from the Seeds. You have, and I’m goin’ to use that.”

I rolled my eyes. “The fact is that I’m on some seriously thin ice with that man, and I won’t be able to get away with whatever it is you have planned. He won’t let me anywhere near that family.”

“You’re going to do this, and I don’t care what you have to do to do it. Become one of his coked-up buddies he keeps around, for all I fucking care. If you value your life, you’ll do this.”

Silence fell between us as I stared at the shiny floor. I weighed my options, not that I had many, and I couldn’t find a way to get out of this one. It just went from bad to worse in less than 24 hours, and I couldn’t believe the amount of trouble I had brought upon myself from going to one damn gala. Swallowing my pride was bitter, but I did it anyway. “Fine.” I bit out. “Whatever. I’ll help you steal the business and take the family down.”

A twist of guilt settled in the pit of my stomach as Hurk smiled. “Perfect! I’m so glad we could see eye to eye. I look forward to our business relationship, Blake.”

“And what do I get out of this?” I asked with a roll of my eyes.

“Hmm…well, how about you don’t go to prison? That you’ll get to leave Atlanta? I think that seems fair, don’t you?”

No. “Sure.” Not in the fucking slightest.

He gave a nod to his men. “Get her out of here. I’m done.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but only a strangled shout of surprise escaped at the black bag returned, blinding me once more.

 They had dragged me out of the damn house and thrown me into a van, fully restrained. I had no idea where we were going, but it wasn’t a smooth ride. It’s when we stop do they finally pull the damn bag off and cut my restraints. The bulky man grabbed me while the other slide the door open with more force than necessary, and the shoved me out before speeding away.

I hit the concrete hard, my palms and knees immediately getting scraped. I grunted in frustration as I sat on the sidewalk, yanking my heels off. My body was exhausted, muscles screaming at me with bruises forming on my leg. There were angry red lines on my wrists, complimenting the tattoos on my wrists. I wanted nothing more than a cigarette, and I cursed, realizing that they never returned the clutch purse I had. Anger swelled in me and I fought to keep the tears at bay. I had smoked more in the last few days than I had in months. I had quit, but the new stress was threatening to give me the habit again, and I was more than pissed that I couldn’t indulge in this moment.

Snatching my feels off the ground, I stood and walked into my apartment building. I longed for my bed, and I was set and determined to do absolutely nothing tomorrow. I could practically hear my ice cream calling for me.

The stairs were harder to take than they were this morning, and I hated every step I took with a fiery passion. This night, this whole day, had been nothing but a clusterfuck, and I didn’t know how all this shit could happen in 24 hours. Arrested, manhandled twice, threatening and being threatened, finding a new way to piss off the youngest Seed, being kidnapped, hit, blackmailed…what the fuck could happen next? I was done with the bullshit. I could put a smile on my face, figuratively, and agree to help Drubman so I could get the fuck out of there. I could off both parties while I made arrangements. I was getting the fuck out of dodge while I could, while I was still breathing.

Coming to the floor, it was like déjà vu. I froze seeing the door to my apartment wide open and dread settled heavily in the pit of my stomach. I rushed forward, my hands resting on the doorframe as I looked around.

The door had clearly been kicked in, the frame busted and a small dent in the cheap door. I swallowed as I took in the busted coffee table, torn up and flipped couch and chair. My TV was on and flickering, the screen cracked as the static filled the room. I stepped in cautiously, watching my bare feet so not to step in the broken glass of the table and some of my vases. Water, rocks, and flowers littered the floor. Down the hall, I could see my bed flipped on its side with the bedding ripped to shreds, the feathers from the comforter and pillows blanketing everything like freshly fallen snow.

The kitchen wasn’t spared, with cabinets thrown open, and broken glasses and plate along the counter tops and floor. My fridge and freezer were left ajar as food had been strewn, almost shoved, from its place. My face twisted and I clenched my fist at the site of melted ice cream on the tile. The wall against my counter bar held my busted landline and a note with my knives embedded in the wall to hang it. The same knives that was in my clutch.

I stepped forward and read the note, each line fueling my anger more and more. A threat, clear as day, from my most humble hosts this evening. My hand fell to my side as I look around hopelessly. It was a message within itself. The note was just a cherry on top. Whatever the Drubmans had planned, they were serious, and they wanted to make it clear. I did get some relief when I spotted my clutch on my small kitchen table, my cell phone falling out.

Grabbing it with shaking hands, I send a quick text, trying hard to focus on the keyboard. We need to meet asap. Tomorrow afternoon good?

I only waited a few more minutes before I received the confirmation text, and I fall to my knees, clinging the phone to my chest as I run my hand through my hair. The shaking becomes worse and I let out a sob as the tears break through. I can’t help the panic attack, there’s nothing for me cling to in order to keep me from the spiral. It’s a mixture of rage, helplessness, and stress. I didn’t ask for any of this. I wanted a better life, and I tried to stay in my lane the best I could, keeping my head down. And in less than a week, I had the threat of a rival crime family and the feds breathing down my neck. And worst of all, the potential of Dutch finding me was too close for comfort. Everything I had built, all the work I had done over the years, would come tumbling down around me. And I didn’t even have the chance to process of Rowan being alive. I needed to leave, get out of Atlanta as fast as I could, and never look back.

[procancelled]

It’s Hard To Be A Diamond In A Rhine Stone World 2008

Something I’ve noticed is that the majority of BOTDF songs address the listener instead of a specific person in the song. This is concerning given how sexual the songs are and how young the fanbase is. 

Slash Gash Terror Crew Anthem!

-          Fandom name.

-          Violent

-          Anthem for the fanbase is very sexual despite fanbase is young.

Bend over

Shake those titties

-          Gross and demeaning

Pull over

Hello Kitty

-          This is a FUCKING CHILDREN’S CARTOON CHARACTER!

Back it up like a U-Haul truck

Sock it to me

Rub my junk

-          Anthem for fanbase asks them to do sexual things to Dahvie

You’re a freak… like me!

-          Trying to connect to the audience and make them relate to him

 Save the Rave

You can talk

You stupid tricks

-          Demeaning to people who criticise him or come out with allegations against him

I’ve taken the pills

Giving into cheap thrills

-          Normalising drug use

I fell in love with a girl

At the dance club

She said what! As I’m kicking

Up the party drugs

-          Connecting relationships, ‘love’ and drug use

Shoot up this place

-          Violent

 S My D

-          A whole song dedicated to Dahvie’s oral sex fixation

I’m probably gonna lick

Feel you up until you drip

-          Oral sex fixation and overly sexual

Do you like my sexy hair?

-          Wig, shitty, mouldy, stinky wig.

I’m not wearing any underwear

-          So it’s easier to get your dick out?

-          Also, this is said in a very childish tone instead of trying to sound sexual

S my D

Pop it out like lipstick

-          Childish sounding when referring to his oral sex fixation

Take the bottles, pop ‘em out

-          Connecting alcohol with sex

Gimme gimme more on the dance floor

-          Sex in public, exhibitionism

Turn around, what the hell

Go real fast, break it down

Do it ‘til you touch the ground

Want it slick, want it sure?

-          Fast semi-violent sex

Bitch I know you want some more

-          Disrespectful and also sounds very rapey

So open me up like Christmas

-          Childish sounding which is very gross

S my D motherfuckin’ bitches

-          Disrespectful and demeaning

Suck it good

Suck it hard

Suck it right

-          Demanding

-          Oral sex fixation

-          If you want good oral sex then maybe you shouldn’t try to get oral sex from underage virgins, most of which don’t know or understand oral sex

 Ima Monster (Heart On My Sleeve)

-          Yes you are

I’m banging with the b-o—t-o-dizzle

With wiffles

-          What the fuck does this mean?

‘Cause I dribble like I’m rubbing on nipples

-          Obsession with breasts

-          Why would rubbing nipples make him dribble so much? He’s not seen boobs for the first time, he’s an adult

Gotta get out the pickle

-          Childish sounding and gross

Make it rain with the ripples

Let my candy rum trickle

-          Linking alcohol and sex

Get you buzzed with double triples

Getting head, in rentals

-          Oral sex fixation

-          Car sex again

Avoiding the parentals

-          Why would adults need to avoid parents? Because an adult should be having sex/a relationship with an adult so parents aren’t an issue right? Unless this is actually because he is avoiding parents because he intents to pursue a minor

They be hatin’ us

Cause we glamourous

They be hatin’ us

Cause I’m fabulous

-          Uses things like jealousy as the only reason he/the band are hated

 Can’t stop me once I’ve started

-          Sounds rapey as fuck

Baby got me retarded

-          Slur

Chop, chop, chop you up

-          Violent

Eat you like a cannibal

Spit you like an animal

-          Violent

-          Dismissive, uncaring and disrespectful

Slice, slice, slice you up

Cut you up, I’ll slice and dice

-          Violent

Serve you up as cold as ice

-          Gloating

Go ‘head girl, shake that butt

Make me freaking bust a nut

-          Overly sexual

-          Objectifying

Let’s get wasted, super UHW

Guess what honey, I’m a freak

I’m a freak, inside the sheets

-          Links alcohol and sex

-          Saying he’s a ‘freak’ is reminiscent of how he uses BDSM as an excuse

Rough, tough, naughty nurse

Rip it up, make it hurt

-          Normalising rough sex to a young audience that doesn’t know much about sex

-          Telling fans what he likes and what he’s like (supposedly) sexually

Don’t stop, get it, get it

Last for hours, not for minutes

-          Demanding

-          Yeah as if you could Dahvie

Open wide for my surprise

-          Oral sex fixation

Scratch and blow for your grand prize

Smear it on your plastic face

-          Rude

-          Marking who he’s with sexually

Leave you with a sweeter taste

-          He has told girls that his cum tastes like ice cream, young girls.

Super soaker on your chest

Let it drip down on your breasts

-          Breast obsession

-          At shows he would pour drinks on girls chests. He would also spit on them, mainly whichever girl he decided he wanted to have sex with

Haters make me famous

-          He indoctrinates his fans to think this way so whenever they see people criticise him or talk about what he did to them they will just replay that their ‘hate’ is just making Dahvie more famous

-          They aren’t haters and Dahvie is famous for all the wrong reasons

 It’s Hard To Be A Diamond In A Rhine Stone World

Slash Gash Terror what?

Slash Gash Terror who?

Slash Gash Party Crew

-          Violent name for fanbase

You know how we fucking do

-          Telling fanbase how to act

Pull over, that ass is so phat

You makin’ me clap

-          Overly sexual and demeaning

I don’t know how to act

-          He really doesn’t

I do it in the front

I do it in the back

Shake it down like that

Make that booty go clap

-          Overly sexual while sounding childish and not sexy in any way

Can’t knock it, I’m profit

-          Money obsession

-          Uses money and parents connect to the cops in his area to get out of any repercussions

I got paper to chase

I got money to make

-          By scamming fans

Squish, squish on your chest

-          Childish sounding

Rub those titties, super breast

-          Ah yes, one single super breast, the other one is mediocre

-          Breast obsession

Ah, ah lost my breath

Ultra sex you’re the best

-          Overly sexual

I’m packing

-          Doubt

I’m stacking

Some rated x action

Strawberry whip cream

We can be a sweet team

Bang bang choo choo train

Show me how you work that thing

-          Childish sounding while being overly sexual

This is how we fucking do

In the Slash Gash Terror Crew

-          Addressing fans

-          Telling fans how to act

 Keys To The Bakery

Haters block

-          ‘Haters’ = valid critics

-          Ironic since he blocks anyone who comments on his posts with the allegations against him

And snitches rock

-          Does he mean rock in some kind of bad way?

-          He calls anyone who confesses what he did to them as a snitch to make it sound bad so his fans go after them

Yo pass me the cup

I’ll drink till

I throw up

-          Unhealthy behaviour being normalised to a fanbase where the majority can’t legally buy alcohol

I get you wetter than Hurricane Katrina

-          Hurricane Katrina happened in 2005, three years before this album came out. People were still suffering.

-          Hurricane Katrina caused 1,200 deaths and $125 billion in damages

-          This line is said eight times in this song

Cuddle leads to trouble

When you’re up in my bubble

-          Sounds incredibly rapey

I don’t chase em

I replace em

-          It has been reported that over 100 people have reached out with stories about how they have been hurt by Dahvie

-          If Dahvie couldn’t get what he wanted from someone he would stop contacting them

-          He would also stop contact if he felt at risk of being exposed

Stackin’ hoes

Like dominoes

-          Disrespectful

Make a rumour

-          Constantly calls the allegations ‘rumours’ so they seem less valid, especially to people who don’t look into them further

Sense of humour

-          Nothing about rape or paedophilia is funny

Entertain with my life

Make me popular over night

To be famous is so nice

-          Acts as if the allegations just gain him fame. He is the literal embodiment of ‘HaTeRZ MaKE mE FaMOUs’

Reeses pieces butter cup

-          Random and childish sounding

Mess with me

I’ll fuck you up

-          Threatening violence

-          Many victims have said he is a violent person

This is how we party up

-          Saying the way he acts is normal

She licked it like a lolli pop

-          Childish sounding

-          Oral sex fixation

Don’t stop till you hit the spot

-          Demanding

You got me crazy or maybe

Get smashed

-          Linking sex and alcohol

I can’t stop

Till I pop

-          Sounds rapey

-          Only cares if he gets off, doesn’t care about the other person

There’s danger on the spot

-          Dahvie is the danger

Got money in my hands

Mad dough! Cash flow

Got the diamonds that glow

We be popin’ Champaign

Like we won the damn game

-          Obsession with being rich and flaunting that

-          He hasn’t got anything now. He’s poor and lives with his parents

Mosh and Roll!

When I step in the club

Everybody shows me love

-          No they don’t

-          And now some places, not just clubs, won’t let him in

I’m in the business of terror

-          Being honest there

More metal than Slayer

-          HA! HA! HA!

-          THE FUCK!?!?!?!?

I got money and hoes

-          Demeaning

In different area codes

-          Has victimised women in many states and even different countries

Cause haters make me famous

-          This stupid narrative again

But love will make you shameless

-          Dahvie doesn’t understand love and he also should feel shame

I’ll slash, gash this party bash

-          Violent

Gotta get that money cash

-          By scamming?

Up and down with no breaks

We as in, I’ll make you shake

-          Gross and overly sexual

We’re gonna burn this town

To the ground

-          Violent

I’m not a trend sweater

I’m a trend setter

-          This is an actual line that is spoken

Girl you better pop an umbrella cause

You’re making me wet drip, drip

I gotta get that lick

-          Oral sex fixation

For the centre of the tootsie pop

-          Childish sounding

You know I can’t stop

-          Sounds rapey

Shank you with my bling brass

-          Violent

Stacking up on my money cash

-          Obsession about money

 Do You Want To Be A Superstar?

Ummm… Mic check…

One… Two… Um… Fucking twelve

-          Again this is an actual line that is spoken

My fashion is so siq

-          He dresses the way he does so he looks younger

My fashion will make you lick

-          Oral sex fixation

Watch those panties fucking drip

-          Gross and overly sexual

Scene hair weave

-          Scene hair wig you mean

Scene attitude so fucking mean

-          Acts like being mean is okay and normal because of being part of a certain ‘culture’

Get on the floor

Get on the whore

-          Demanding and demeaning

Pull down your pants and drop your drows

-          Demanding

(Like Oh My God Dahvie you’re so obscene)

-          Acts like everything he does is just because he’s ‘obscene’ which is like him saying that how he treats women while he forces himself on them is BDSM

Bitch I’m the motherfucking war machine

-          Violent

Don’t give a fuck just bust your grill

-          Doesn’t care about being violent

Throw them hoes

-          Demeaning and dismissive

Throw these motherfuckers who get too close

-          Violent

Porn star bash

Porn star splash

-          Porn obsession

My porn star cash

-          Dahvie isn’t a porn star

Pretty damn stoned

-          Linking drugs and sex

Pretty fucked up? Yeah I know

-          Acts like everything he does is a big deal

Do you wanna be a super star?

Get fucked up and go real far?

-          Acts like if you’re famous you are going to get ‘fucked up’

Or do you want to be a porn star?

Fuck for money and go real far

-          Demeaning sex work

Wet from dreams

Wet from screams

Wet from sex and dripping with cream

-          Overly sexual

HOT HOT SEX!

HOT HOT BREASTS!

HOT WHITE TIGHT SHIRTS

BUSTING OUT YOU’RE CHEST

Double D titties

Double D pretties

-          Obsession with breasts

-          Objectifying women

Girl got them thighs

You’re pretty damn fine

-          Objectifying

I don’t give a fuck what I say

I don’t give a fuck I do it everyday

-          He literally doesn’t care as long as he gets away with what he does

Yes I’m different

Yet I’m unique

-          ‘Uwu I’m not like other predators’

Mess with me

I’ll grind you like meat

-          Threatening violence

Let’s get wasted, super fucked

Go head girl shake that butt

-          Childish sounding

-          Linking sex with alcohol

(Let’s get wasted)

Make me fucking bust a nut

-          Demanding

 Wet Dream War Machine

Operation get crunk, I'm in love with your trunk

-          Combines sex, alcohol and ‘love’

Get me fucking love drunk, baby girl I want

Drugged up like party monster, sexed up so grab the condoms

-          Links drugs and sex

Boom, Boom, Boom

In my hotel room

-          Raped underage girls in his hotel rooms while touring or would book a hotel room to take underage girls to

I'm the teenage bloody dream

-          ‘Bloody’ is he trying to be British or violent

-          He isn’t a teen and also shouldn’t be encouraging teens to want to be with him

Everybody fuck me

-          No

Getcha drink on

Take your clothes off

Let’s get down and dirty

-          Normalising drunk sex

-          Demeaning

 Mad Rad Hair

-          You mean wig

I'm fenny not a faggot!

-          Slur

With extensions so thick

-          It’s a wig not just extensions

You can suck my dick

-          Oral sex fixation

So get in my chair

Let me pimp your hair

-          Used cutting hair as a way to spend time with underage girls. Arrived at a time when the parents would have to go to work so he could be alone with the underage girl

-          He couldn’t cut hair. He called himself Dahvie The Elite Hair God on MySpace but he had not talent. I would think it’s the same with makeup. During this time his makeup wasn’t very heavy. It was only when Jayy joined the band and the band was more successful that his makeup got more extreme since he could afford a makeup artist, and Jayy actually can do makeup.

Let’s get wasted super fucked

-          Alcohol reference

My hair is better than yours

-          IT’S A WIG!

So just fuck me on the dance floor

-          Demanding

-          Exhibitionist

Everybody gettin' tense

Feeling up my body

-          Overly sexual

I love this filthy

Life to get CRUNK ALL NIGHT!

-          Linking alcohol and sex

My hair’s looking so tight

-          WIG!

In case you didn't know

I'm a really big deal

-          He wasn’t overly famous outside of MySpace at this point

So shut the fuck up

-          Demanding and disrespectful

And take your clothes off

-          Using fame to get people to have sex with him

Come' a MySpace whore

-          Demeaning

-          Telling his fans the kind of person he’s interested in

-          Being scene was a way for him to look younger and prey on young girls

Change your name to

XXGORE

-          He gave some of his victims their MySpace name

[siriuslyblack12]

chapter 7

“For the last time, I am not going as Dorothy for Halloween!” Sirius exclaimed.

 “Well it’s either me or you, and mum’s already made my tin man costume. It’s sick, by the way.” James pleaded.

 Remus put his face in his hands and groaned. The marauders were famous for their group costumes, but they’d been arguing about their plans the whole day. “I told you Wizard of Oz was a bad idea, why can’t we do Scooby-Doo like Peter said?”

 “Because Remus, Mary said that Lily said that Scooby-Doo isn’t cool. We have to be cool.” James said, as if he was offended that the other boy didn’t already know. It was truly pathetic, how much he sacrificed for a girl who supposedly didn’t even like him back. “Plus two of us would have to dress as girls, so unless you want to spend the night in an orange turtleneck and a wig, we’re doing Wizard of Oz.”

 Gregg’s perhaps wasn’t the best place to discuss their Halloween plans, as firstly, they were surrounded by people they weren’t inviting to their party and secondly, Peter’s mouth was full of pastry. Sirius took one of the many rolls the boy had laying in front of him and took a bite for himself, arms around Remus’s shoulders. “Who’s to say that he wouldn’t be Daphne?”

 “’m not being Daphne, or Velma for that matter. I thought we agreed that I’d be Shaggy.”

 “More like shag me!” Sirius laughed far too loudly considering they were in a public place. “You’re Daphne, I’m Velma, Peter’s Shaggy and James is Fred. We could even get Lils to be Scooby, if it’s cool enough for her.”

 “It’s definitely not.” James said, “I don’t even know why you’re so opposed to Dorothy, I reckon you could pull it off.”

 “You’re talking to a taken man here Prongs, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

 Remus rolled his eyes but sunk further into Sirius’s arms, relishing in the heat. They’d been together for a little over a month, and it had been the best month of life. Dates, dinners, just spending time together still made his stomach flip. “Well it’s good that I agree with James then, isn’t it?”

 Peter finally spoke, the pastries gone from his mouth, “Maybe we should vote on it.”

 There was a general hum of agreement on the table, and Peter continued, “All in favour of Scooby-Doo?” Sirius raised his hand, glaring at Remus, obviously trying to get him to do the same. “All in favour of Wizard of Oz?” Everybody except Sirius raised their hand, in fact he defiantly pressed his down into the table.

 “Then it’s settled, we get to see Padfoot in heels!” James said excitedly.

 “You should be so lucky.”

 Remus sighed, jumping in before there was a full out brotherly brawl between the two boys, “Where are we even going? I thought Marlene said she couldn’t host this year.”

 “That’s true,” Sirius began. “Which is why we’re going to Mary’s. Who knew that Mary fucking MacDonald was a party animal? The girl who got like, 5 A’s in her exams last year.”

 “I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not.” Peter said cautiously. He and Mary had also been steadily dating since September, spending even more time together than before. It was quite rare to see the two apart.

 Sirius laughed, “Well considering our Moony’s grades were even better than that, I’d say it’s not.”

 “How the fuck is everyone so smart?” James groaned.

 Remus chuckled along with everyone, mostly because he didn’t want to confront it. He himself had no idea how he’d managed to get the grades he’d gotten, but he wasn’t exactly complaining. His mum had bought him a cake and everything.

 Peter cleared his throat, standing unceremoniously. “Well, my mum probably wants me back home soon. I’ll see you at Mary’s.”

 They watched as he gathered his things and left with a final wave and smile, followed by James doing the same, “C’mon Pads, mum said we could have the TV today. Finally!”

 It didn’t go unnoticed to Remus how Sirius’s face lit up in glee at the mention of Mrs Potter. The smile spread over his face all the way up to his eyes, dimples settling in his cheeks. He was so happy. He wished it could always be like that. “You go ahead… me and Re might stay  for a bit.”

 Remus’s eyebrows shot up, “Will we now?”

 “Only if you want.”

 He scoffed at the thought that he’d turn down spending time with his boyfriend, yet was secretly delighted that Sirius cared enough to ask the question. James waved them off with a knowing smirk as Remus’s hand was grabbed and dragged out of the bakery. Excitable puppy.

  It was only half an hour later as the two sat atop a hill onlooking the business of the town, their hands threaded between them and the other clutching some cheap brand of chocolate. The crisp Autumn air surrounded them, enclosing them in the comfort and peace of the gradually lowering sun. Remus went to look over at Sirius, only to find him looking right back at him. He smiled.

 “You always look at me like that,” Remus started with adoration. “Like I’m worth something, or like I’m precious. I don’t know.”

 “You are precious, Moons. For some reason you refuse to admit it, I’m just saying what everybody’s thinking.” Sirius said smugly. It was almost matter-of-factly, like he was so sure and confident in what he was saying.

 Remus rolled his eyes, biting back the biggest grin in favour of leaning towards the boy for a sweet kiss. It was brief, but still made his head spin as he broke away drearily, “Baby.”

 “Baby?” Sirius laughed. He took a strand of Remus’s hair between his two fingers and twirled it absentmindedly. “I like it.”

 “You think it’s stupid.”

 “I don’t!” He only laughed harder, tackling his boyfriend to the ground despite his loud protests. They fell into each other arms as they rolled over in the grass, smiling wide and chuckling to themselves. “I like it. I really do.”

 Remus smiled, still disbelieving but feeling sarcastic enough to comment, “Whatever you say, baby.”

 “Fuck, I love it!” Sirius groaned and met his lips in a longer kiss. He licked into his mouth through the smile on his face, hands cupping around the back of his neck. Remus sighed softly as the boy in front of him moved down to his neck ever so softly; leading him to blink up at the sky. Content and love were the only two thoughts running through his mind.

 I can’t love him already, can I? Isn’t it too soon?

 “Sirius-, you do know we’re, shit, we’re in public.” His thoughts were incoherent with the feather-light brush of lips just below his jaw.

 Sirius pulled away slowly with one last peck to Remus’s lips, pausing for a moment to drink in his features. He bit his lip in a manner that could only be considered seductive. “I apologise, your majesty.” That earned him a punch to the shoulder. “We could go back to your house, if you want. Would your mum mind?”

 Remus considered it, before deciding, “It’s probably best if we stay here, unless you want to answer about a million questions about everything she can think of.”

 “I really don’t mind-“

 “I know that,” He cut him off, drawing his eyes back to the view in front of him. Truth be told, he thought the real view was Sirius. “I just don’t think I could handle it. When I’m out to her, maybe. Or whenever she’s not in.”

 Sirius nodded to show he understood and followed Remus’s gaze. “What about James’s house then? Sometimes I think mum loves us more than she loves James.”

 “To be fair, can you really blame her?”

 He shoved Remus’s chest and barked that beautiful laugh that was so often heard falling from his lips. “I’m telling Prongs you said that!”

 “I’d like to see you try.” Remus teased lightly, thus ensuing another tackle to the ground. He hid his face in the collar of Sirius’s jacket to stifle his laugh. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found someone he could be so open with, someone that would listen happily to every one of his minor inconveniences or whims. Suddenly, his thoughts drowning out reality, the atmosphere around them became a lot sadder, more gentile. “You call Mrs Potter mum.”

 “Well noticed.”

 Remus put a hand to his heart in mock offence, “I was just wondering what is was about, that’s all. It’s not exactly like the time you called McGonagall mum by accident, is it?”

 Sirius whined in protest at the mention of that infamous incident, protesting that the boys promised to never mention it again. The exact details were largely unknown, but it was held above his head to torment him playfully nonetheless. “I’ve been staying with them since… well you know, I guess it’s just become a habit. At least she’s better than my actual mother.” He laughed bitterly.

 Remus’s lips thinned out as he asked cautiously, “Have you spoken to Regulus since we saw him?” After saying it he realised how it could have come off. “Not that… Never mind, I shouldn’t have asked.”

 “No, no, it’s okay. It’s…” Sirius trailed off, hands clutching at Remus’s waist as if trying to steady himself. “Short answer, no I haven’t.”

 Remus made a sympathetic noise, “Do you want to speak to him?”

 I’m over-stepping. I shouldn’t have brought it up.

 “Of course I do, to be honest I just don’t know how. He’s so far away, you know? And he’s still in that fucking house and I just-“ Sirius sighed in frustration and hung his head, a small smile still determined to stay put on his lips.

 Bringing the dark-haired boy to his chest, Remus tried his best to reassure him. “There’s no pressure to do anything, Pads. Find him whenever you’re ready, whether that’s tomorrow or in a month.”

 “I know.” Sirius said quietly. “It’s just… a lot. What would I even say?”

 “Whatever you need to, baby.”

  ~~

  Sirius wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been expecting when he’d asked Regulus to come meet him in the park near the Black house. Memories of his childhood flashed through his mind, being in that park, playing with his little brother without a care in the world. He wondered when everything had started to get so messed up, and if it could ever be like it was. For now he would just have to take Remus’s advice and talk to him. Say whatever he needed to.

 “Do you remember that game we used to play? The castle one? We’d stay here all day waiting for the climbing frame to be free and then pretend it was our castle, like we were in charge.” A familiar voice said coming up beside him.

 “Reg-”

 “No, no, let me.” Regulus insisted, taking in a deep breath to steady his nerves. “I hope your happy.”

 Sirius spoke slightly louder than his brother, temper rising at the surprising change in tone, “What?”

 “You finally got what you wanted, didn’t you? You’ve never liked it there, even when we were kids and everything was fine, you still weren’t happy. Well congratulations, you won. You fucking won and now you never have to go back. Some of us aren’t that lucky.” The last words were almost spat, ended with a bite of bitterness. His face was drained of colour, jaw set defiantly.

 “Nothing was ever ‘fine’ about that house and you know it. How the hell was I supposed to stay?” Sirius replied through gritted teeth.

 “You’re asking someone who did have to stay, you do know that right?”

 Sirius looked at his brother face on for the first time in weeks, examining it closely and seeing the nerve that had been struck paint itself visibly. His heart filled with sympathy, but his head still maintained his anger. He couldn’t understand the position Regulus was in. He could never understand the position Regulus was in.

 “I always knew you were selfish.” Regulus turned away from the close eyes.

 Sirius stepped forward, fingers pointing into his brother’s chest to emphasise his point, “You can’t call me fucking selfish for caring about myself, okay! I’m sorry, I am so, so sorry, for leaving you there, Reg. I’m trying to make it better, I really am, but if you’re going to stand there and call me selfish and tell me I shouldn’t have done it then you can leave. Right now.”

 Regulus was quiet for a few moments before turning back and muttering a short “Sorry.”

 The two fell away from each other in a silent truce, eyes flicking over the park in front of them. So many memories, all of which dear to each of their hearts. “How can I help you?”

 “I don’t know if you can.” Regulus replied honestly, fighting back the welling of tears. “It’s not as simple as just leaving, Sirius.” He didn’t even realise that that was the first time he’d said that name in weeks.

 Sirius pulled down the cuffs of his jacket, “There’s always room for you at the Potter’s.”

 “Not bloody likely.”

 “Is that why the first thing James asked me when I went there is if you were with me?”

 Regulus huffed, running a hand through his hair in a similar manner to Sirius’s own nervous gesture. It was a known fact that he didn’t really like his brother’s friends, which only made him more suspicious of James Potter’s sudden interest in his well-being. “Mother will be wondering why I’m not home already, I best go.”

 “’m not stopping you.” Sirius fished his phone out of his pocket and clicked it on, seeing a few unopened messages from Marlene and Remus when an idea came to his mind. “Text me if you need anything, whenever you feel like it. I don’t think dear Mother could manage to police who you’re talking to.”

 After a hum of agreement from Regulus, he continued, “You could come to Mary’s Halloween party as well, I remember how much you used to love dressing up.”

 “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

 “Just think about it.” Sirius pleaded, hands pressed together. “I’ll text you the details.”

 Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled his brother into what was at first a casual hug, which then turned into a tight embrace. The tears that had been building in Regulus’s eyes spilled slowly as he held onto Sirius tighter than he’d ever held anyone, hooking his chin over his shoulder. Maybe he would go to this Halloween party, if it meant getting away from his Mother and closer to the only member of his family he truly cared for.

  ~~

  October 31st was a night that for many meant dressing up, eating sweets and having youthful fun. For others it was more about the parties, drinking and drugs and all things that would be regretted in the morning. For the marauders however, most popular people in the school, resident trouble-makers, why couldn’t they have both?

 “Oi Pete, stop eating all the snacks! The rest of us want to eat too.” Remus could hear James shout over the noise of the music blasting through the house.

 “Leave the man be, Prongs. If he wants to stuff his face on mini-sandwiches who are we to stop him?” Sirius reasoned, taking one between his fingers and holding it up to Remus’s mouth. The boy sighed, rolling his eyes, but took the food that was offered to him nonetheless.

 He’s cheesy. Good to know.

 James took his attention away from Peter and towards the affection couple, smiling brightly, “Aw, you guys are too cute.” They groaned at that, before he muttered, “Me and Evans could have that, but she has to go around calling me ‘arrogant’, ‘self-centred’ and ‘the biggest prick she’s ever seen’. What’s she even on about?”

 “I stand behind that!” Lily said from somewhere in the living room.

 It was quite hard for Remus to take the scene in front of him seriously, considering everyone had dressed as beloved characters. Sirius had gone as far as to tie his hair up in two pigtails, red ribbons in tow, and wear one of Marlene’s blue dresses (with shorts underneath it, he’d assured everyone). He looked good. Remus had never thought he’d think that about someone in a Dorothy costume. For a moment he forgot that he could now do something about it, but before long he was stepping forward and taking the boy in his arms.

 Sirius let out a surprised laugh, “Hi.”

 “Hey.”

 “You want another mini-sandwich? You should probably have some now before they’re gone.”

 “I’m good.”

 The two stayed like that for a few moments, basking in each other’s arms peacefully. They had already been such good friends that this felt natural and comfortable. It was sweet, a little excessive, but after pining for so long it was almost necessary to be close as often as possible. Making up for lost time. Remus noticed Sirius glance at the door worriedly, and so asked “Waiting for someone?”

 Sirius’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, “You could say that, yeah.”

 Remus gave him a concerned look, shifting so that his arms fell loosely around they boy’s waist, “Who? I thought everyone was already here.”

 Looking into the tawny-haired boy’s eyes, he thought for a moment. He’d invited Regulus without telling anyone, not even Mary, and it wasn’t exactly as if he was friends with anyone there. “Don’t worry about it, they’re probably not coming anyway.”

 “Hey, hey,” Remus said as Sirius went to turn away from his embrace. Putting together the pieces in his mind, it was all much clearer than it had been, “It’s not Regulus, is it?”

 “It doesn’t matter,” The boy dismissed. “Let’s just have a good time.”

 With a final caring look at each other, Sirius trying his best to reassure the other, the two moved into the party and separated reluctantly to spend their time equally between most of the people there. Remus found Lily and Dorcas, talking excitedly about some book or other over the fireplace and found himself joining them in conversation. He couldn’t help but notice Dorcas’s strange costume: a furry blue jacket and eyes painted onto a hat.

 “I thought you and Marlene were doing a couple’s costume,” He prompted gently. “No offence or anything, but what the hell is this supposed to be?”

 She smiled, “I’m the cookie monster, obviously. Marlene is Elmo.”

 “Because they’re such a famous couple.” Lily said amusedly, arms folded across her chest.

 “Of course.”

  Sirius had found the other half of the strange couple, along with James, and the three were discussing the latest football match. He himself didn’t care much for the sport, favouring swimming far more, but watching his friends animatedly replay it was entertaining on it’s own.

 “Did you see that penalty though!” Marlene exclaimed. “Sirius, what did you think?”

 Startled and confused, he simply replied with the first thing that came to his mind after listening to their discussions, “It was ludicrous, yeah.”

 “You’ve said that about everything, mate.” James laughed.

 “Fuck.”

 As they continued to talk and gossip, Sirius found his eyes flicking over the room to find Remus, deep in his own conversation. He was hit with a wave of emotion, of love, as he watched the way his hands moved as he made his point and the curls of his hair bounced as his head nodded to something Lily had said. This only grew as Remus met his eyes and sent him the most dazzling grin, causing Sirius to swoon slightly.

 Peter was off somewhere else in the house, most likely damaging things and making Mary run after him; James was talking everyone’s ear of; Regulus couldn’t even show up to the party in the first place but the only boy that mattered to Sirius in that moment was the one he was looking at. The boy he was in love with. And suddenly, just looking at him, the rest of the world fell away and it was just the two of them. Just for a moment, it could be like that.

[zigtheeortega]

day 24: loss | liam x mc (au)

title: disruption

pairing: liam x mc

@choicesfebruarychallenge | @bi-cookie ; @cxld-play

warnings: angst, smut, n*sfw, (18+)

word count: 5,764

song inspiration: if i ever feel better - phoenix

author’s note: first off, i’m not good at naming characters like at all, so elliott is just a placeholder bc i knew mc would look weird. second, i haven’t written an au choices fic yet, so i’m a lil nervous to post this! I’ve also never written liam before, much less smut for him, so i’m also nervous bc of that! this will probably be my only trr fic bc there are sooo many trr fics out there. lmao anyways, hope you enjoy this angsty smutty sad fic !

“We’re almost there, Elliott,” Bastien called to the backseat, startling her out of her sleep.

She rubbed her eyes and stretched, slipping her coat she’d been using as a blanket over her shoulders, zipping it up to her chin.

Lythikos had an intense frigidity to it, one that Elliott couldn’t forget. She only visited monthly for short periods of time, but the stinging sensation of the snow on her bare face never left her memory.

She checked her phone, her heart fluttering at the pseudonym that appeared on her phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey. I’m finishing up my last obligation, but I shouldn’t be longer than an hour.” His voice warmed her heart. It was the first time in weeks she’d heard it over the phone, not on television in a rehearsed speech. 

“Okay. I brought some of my work with me if that’s alright with you. I’d love your feedback,” Elliott smiled to herself, treasuring her lover’s genuine interest in her new profession.

“Of course,” she could hear him beam through the phone. “I love you.”

“I love you too. See you soon.”

He hung up, and she sighed. Sneaking around was getting so tiresome, but she’d do anything and everything for Liam.

After Elliott and her friends couldn’t locate Tariq, the wedding went on as scheduled. It took her months of hiding out in Cordonia with her best friends to get herself together. Hana stayed by her side consistently, consoling her until she figured out a game plan.

She thought she’d be able to find a solution and live out her fairytale, but she was too late. She’d never be able to fully have Liam like she wanted, but Madeleine offered her a compromise to keep everyone happy.

She’d brought it up to Elliott before everything went to shit, and Elliott rejected it. She saw being a ‘mistress’ as an insult, because she knew she could find a way out of the mess she was in.

Months later, Madeleine, Liam, and Elliott ran a tight ship with friends to keep the affair under wraps.

Elliott could only meet with Liam once a month, under the guise that he had important monthly meetings to attend at Olivia’s home. They could only meet for a weekend at best, and a few hours at worst.

They rarely contacted each other between their meetings. It was depressing, but necessary to keep them a secret. Liam had a burner phone, and Elliott had to save his number under an undetectable moniker. When they spoke, it was short and sweet, and they couldn’t use each other’s real names.

She flew to Cordonia monthly, usually having to go to great lengths to disguise herself from the paparazzi.

It was emotionally draining and everything leading up to the rendezvous was stressful and tense, but all worth it when she saw Liam’s face light up when he first saw her.

Bastien pulled into the driveway behind the castle, easing up next to a side entrance that Elliott was all too familiar with – she knew Olivia would be waiting behind the large door.

She fixed her wig, pulling her beanie over the top of it, and hid her purple-rimmed eyes behind huge square sunglasses.

“Olivia informed me that you can go to the door. I’ll bring your bags in later. There aren’t any paparazzi in sight, so you’ll be safe,” he smiled at her through the rearview mirror, a sympathetic look in his eyes.

“Thank you so much, Bastien. I could never repay you for what you’re doing for Liam and I,” she replied gratefully, apology laced through the tone in her voice.

“Anything you need, I’m here. Don’t feel guilty. The only time he’s happy is when he sees you, and I’d never get in the way of that.”

Her heart swelled at the thought. She waved to him, stepping out into the blizzard.

The door cracked open, and Elliott spotted the fiery hair before her expression.

“Come in, come in,” Olivia frowned at her messy disguise. “That wig’s a mess, Elliott. If you’re gonna opt for a cheap, frizzy wig, at least hide a pocket knife in it.”

Elliott shrugged, grinning at Olivia’s annoyance. “Why should I do that when I have my best friend here to protect me?”

Olivia scowled, a hint of a smile on her lips. “You’re lucky I’m your ally.” She turned on her heel and stalked down the hallway, leaving Elliott scurrying to catch up.

Elliott had gotten pretty familiar with the underground tunnels of Lythikos over the past year. Olivia secretly renovated an unused area to make an apartment-like cluster of rooms, so that Elliott could stay safely in the tunnels with everything she needed, and she wouldn’t be bothered by anyone.

It was an ingenious idea, and Elliott had no idea how to pay her back for her generosity. Honestly, Olivia probably did it to avoid controversy, like most every noble was doing. Elliott wasn’t sure if Olivia was doing it for the sake of Cordonia’s image or the sake of her friends’ sanity.

Olivia pulled out a skeleton key and unlocked the door, turning on the lights. “I added a more comfortable bed, some more decorations, and got Bastien to fully stock the fridge, so you can cook pretty much anything you want.”

She walked over to the living room area and pointed at the T.V. “I didn’t have to get a 60 inch flatscreen for you, but I know how much you love binging horror movies that I had to help scare you somehow.” She smirked, and pulled out a few drawers from the T.V. stand. “I ordered a hundred or so movies in case you get bored. I have no idea how long you’re gonna be here.”

Elliott shifted her weight, sighing. It was too painful to stay longer than a couple of days. “I was gonna leave on Sunday like I usually do –”

“How asinine. You’re taking a 9 hour flight on a Thursday night to get here by morning, and you take another 9 hour flight back on Sunday morning? You’re wearing yourself thin for no reason, Elliott,” she shook her head at Elliott, confusion lining her expression.

“Liam usually can’t spend more than 2 days at a time with me.”

“You have other friends in Cordonia, you know that right?” She narrowed her eyes at her, crossing her arms.

“After all that happened, I can’t show my face here. My reputation is tarnished, and even being seen here is a scandal waiting to happen. It gets riskier and riskier every time. I can’t risk any of my friend’s well-being for the sake of my secret relationship,” Elliott plopped onto the couch, defeated.

Remorse flashed through Olivia’s eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. “None of this is your fault, Elliott. We know the truth.”

Elliott shook her head, a lump forming at the back of her throat. It didn’t matter that Justin and Adelaide were ousted as terrorists, and that Elliott’s friends were able to stop them from assassinating Liam and Madeleine. 

Tariq was never found, and King Constantine was killed before he could clear her name. No one would believe Bastien, and Penelope was too afraid to publicly admit her wrongdoing, so Elliott didn’t have enough evidence to be exonerated.

“Sometimes… I wish everything were different. Maybe if we’d split up and searched on our own… or if I tried a little harder…” She struggled, her throat burning, a sign of tears to come. She didn’t want to talk about this situation any more than she had to, which was every time she visited.

Her new life was pretty much an escape from the events of the past year, but she was forced to face her past trauma head on every time she stepped foot on Cordonian soil.

“Elliott…” Olivia trailed off, and reached towards her, but dropped her hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I guess I’m still seething over the whole ordeal. I’m pretty defensive since I know we’re right but no one else knows that.” She sat down, leaning back onto the couch, crossing her legs. “You shouldn’t feel like you’re risking our social standing or anything. All of us know exactly what we’re risking to help you and Liam, and we’re okay with it. You’re our…” She whispered the last word and Elliott couldn’t quite hear her.

“I’m your what?”

“...friend.” 

Elliott threw her arms around Olivia, relishing in the rare vulnerable moment. Olivia seldom showed her true feelings, but when she did, it was like watching a shooting star. It was beautiful, fleeting – a great memory nonetheless.

“Get off of me, you sap,” Olivia patted Elliott’s back with the tip of her fingers.

“Thank you for everything you’re doing. I seriously can’t thank you enough. If there’s ever anything I can do to repay you all, please tell me. I owe you a lifetime of favors.”

“Well, first, you can actually spend time with Hana, Drake, and Maxwell. They won’t shut up about you.” Olivia rolled her eyes.

“Deal. I never got to see Cordonia on my own time, so maybe you could give me a proper tour of Lythikos next time I’m here. You know, when I’m not banished to the cellar.” Elliott grinned.

Olivia laughed once, a delightful noise. “Sure, but you’ll need better snow gear. And take a self-defense class or two before you do so.”

Elliott quirked a brow at her friend, then shook her head. “I won’t even pretend to know what you have planned for me.”

Olivia stood up, and headed for the door. “You have no idea.” She opened it, and before leaving, she said, “Liam should be here soon. Let me know when he’s in the room so Bastien and I can keep watch.”

“Be careful, Liv.”

“Don’t call me that,” Olivia smirked, and closed the door.

----

Elliott spent the next hour working in her notebook, editing and rewriting paragraph after paragraph. An animated movie she’d seen a million times played in the background, prompting Elliott to hum along to her favorite song.

After another hour, she started to worry. She aimlessly flipped through the collection of DVD’s, not really paying attention to the titles.

Where’s Liam? She thought, an uneasy feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

After hour three, she read a little from a book she’d brought until her eyes started getting heavy.

She awoke to a sequence of 5 sharp raps on the door, followed by a pause, then 3 more.

Our secret knock, She thought. She shot up from the couch and ran to the door, happy tears already welling up on her bottom lids.

She fumbled with the lock, anticipation causing her to shakily rip open the door.

And there Liam stood, holding a bouquet of flowers, a bottle of champagne, and a neatly wrapped present. His perfectly tailored suit laid perfectly on his arms and torso, his muscles just barely concealed. He beamed, his eyes glistening as his eyes grazed over her face.

She grabbed him by the lapels, pulling him inside hastily. “Whoa,” he said, nearly losing balance.

Elliott blushed, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing his face close to hers. She pressed her lips softly on his, a picture perfect moment she snapshotted and tucked away in her favorite memories.

All of the anxiety she felt traveling in disguise melted away the moment she touched Liam.

“I missed you,” he murmured against her lips.

“I missed you more,” she breathed, snuggling into his neck.

After a sweet moment, she pulled back, and snatched the champagne from his hands. “What’re we celebrating, love?”

He grinned, and locked the door behind him. “It’s a momentous day, Elliott. It’s been a year to the day since we first met.”

Elliott looked at him lovingly, hugging the bottle to her chest. “A whole year?”

He nodded, setting the flowers and present on the table, and gathered Elliott in his arms, hugging her to his chest tightly. “A whole year. I know this situation isn’t ideal, but I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Elliott.”

He used a finger to tilt her chin to him, and he pressed a soft kiss on her bottom lip. “You’re everything to me.”

“I love you so much, Liam.” She giggled, shaking her head. “From waitress to mistress. Same suffix, different job title.”

His smile wavered, and he exhaled a long breath, obviously uncomfortable with the joke she’d told. “I wish you’d stop putting yourself down like that. Marriage is just a title. Madeleine and I are just business partners. You’re my soulmate, Elliott.”

She pulled back, fiddling with the top of the champagne. “I know. I just wish we didn’t have to be so secretive.”

He gently took the bottle from my hands and popped it open. “I’ve still got local historians and lawyers on my payroll, and they’ve been extensively researching Cordonian laws. I don’t know if they’ll find anything, but I’m determined to keep looking. I don’t want to lose hope.”

Elliott pressed her mouth into a line, then quirked it to the side, processing everything he’d said. “I want to be hopeful that we’ll get out of this eventually, but I’d rather just enjoy the time I have with you, baby. Stress free.”

He poured them two glasses of champagne, and handed one to her. “Of course. My apologies.”

They sat at the kitchen table, and Elliott picked up the flowers, taking a deep whiff of the bouquet. “You really outdid yourself this time, Liam.” 

The cluster of sunflowers, lavender, and white roses contrasted beautifully, and smelled even better. “They reminded me of you, so I had to pick them up.”

“Along with a gift?” She lifted a brow, challenging him.

He sipped his champagne, trying to hide a smile. “I think you’ll like it. Open it.”

She ripped off the wrapping paper to reveal a plain white box. She lifted the top off, revealing an assortment of toys on top of a lacy lingerie piece. Her cheeks heated, and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I love it,” Elliott said, nibbling at the skin on her lip.

Liam eyed her lips, a playful look in his eye. “I thought we could try something new this weekend.”

The blush on her cheeks stayed, despite her eagerness to get in bed. “I like the sound of that.”

She gulped down the rest of her champagne and snatched the lacy piece, running to the bedroom.

“Hey!” Liam called, about to stand from the table.

“I’m trying on the lingerie! Stay where you are! It’s a surprise!” She yelled through the closed door.

Elliott emerged after a few minutes, peeking her head out of the door. “You ready?”

“Beyond ready, my love.”

She stepped out, and Liam’s breath hitched in his throat. She could plainly see him shift his legs, desperately trying to conceal his bulge.

“You look… stunning. Absolutely gorgeous, Elliott,” he said, his mouth agape, eyes hungrily roaming across her body.

The strappy lace piece fit like a bikini. The bottom was closer to a g-string than a thong, and the crotch was cut out, making it for easier access. The lace was sheer, barely covering her nipples and folds. She should’ve felt sexy, but was more out of place than anything.

“This is so corny, Liam. You bought me something that you’re just going to strip off of me, and I look absolutely ridiculous in it,” She said, crossing her legs to cover the lack of cloth around her opening.

He stood from his chair and crossed the room to touch her. He laced his fingers through her hair and draped his other hand across the small of her back. He tilted her head back, kissing her neck and nipping gently at her exposed skin.

“You’re right. I want to rip this off of you, but I can’t even begin to describe to you how arousing this outfit is. You never have to wear something that you’re not comfortable in, but I assure you it’s a pleasurable experience on my end,” he breathed into her ear, tightening his grip around her waist.

“Oh fuck,” She whispered, his bulge rubbing against her, causing her to gasp in repsonse. “Please, let’s talk later, and fuck now. I need you now, Liam.”

“Say no more, beautiful.” He swept her up and brought her to the bedroom, slamming the door behind them with his foot.

He dropped her onto the bed, and shimmied off his coat jacket, hanging it on the back of the wall.

“You’re so adorable, Liam. In the midst of a heated moment, you still have the mind to hang your coat up carefully so that it doesn’t crease before fucking my brains out,” she giggled.

Liam scrunched his nose up in confusion. “I can be reckless.” He threw his coat on the ground, but after a few seconds of eye contact with Elliott, where she could tell how absolutely tormented he was, he snatched it by the lapels.

Elliott howled with laughter as Liam hung it up carefully, brushing off the dirt.

“You always manage to be right, Elliott,” he softly smiled, unbuttoning his top buttons slowly. “But I don’t mind.” His arms flexed as he rolled his sleeves up. “As long as you don’t mind that I’m a little reckless in private, that’s all that matters.”

Her heart raced as he left the room and returned with the box of toys. Although she’d committed Liam’s body and their sexual encounters to memory, she still found herself enthralled with him like it was the first time they met.

He sat on the bed next to Elliott’s lace-clad body, and tucked a hair behind her ear. “Are you okay with me trying some of the toys out on you? I want to make sure you’re completely comfortable with it before trying anything.”

She smiled, nodding. “Yes.”

He pulled a small handheld vibrator out of the box, just small enough to fit on a finger. “First things first, I want to taste you.”

Her lower stomach clenched and ached as he grabbed her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed, parting her legs. Before she could throw out a sexy quip, he had taken advantage of the crotchless design by plunging his tongue into her folds, stroking relentlessly.

She moaned and dug her hands into his hair, tugging at his dark strands. He in turn rumbled against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body.

“Liam, please,” she breathed, feeling his hand on her stomach, holding her bucking hips in place.

He knew exactly what she wanted; he always read her cues perfectly. He slid a finger into her, curling it the way Elliott loved. He moved his hand and tongue in unison, the similar paces bringing her close to the edge.

Just as she was about to release, he pulled away, slipping the vibrator on his fingers. “Is it alright if I try this out on you now?”

She nodded, her body eager for his touch. He massaged her clit slowly with his fingers, keeping in time with the laggard pace of his other fingers pumping in and out of her.

The strong vibration mixed with the pressure of his fingers sent Elliot into another world. Her eyes rolled back, and she focused on the image of Liam’s naked physique, his head between her legs… 

Before she knew it, her legs were shaking. Liam kissed her softly, and reached into the box again, but she placed a hand on his wrist lightly. “We have all weekend to play with them. I need you in me now.”

His pupils dilated even further, and he nodded, standing up to slip off his clothes. Although she’d seen him bare numerous times, it never failed to amaze her that the man whose heart belonged to her was so breathtaking. His body looked as it was crafted by the gods themselves, chiseled to perfection, undoubtedly due to his strict fitness and diet regimen.

He grabbed a condom from the box of toys, but before he could tear it open, she stopped him. “Could we… go without one this time? I’m on birth control.”

She wanted so desperately to tell him the whole truth, but she decided she’d wait until the time was right. It would sound like an irrational decision to him, but she had thought it out nearly every day since she left Cordonia for the first time.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, but… I’ll pull out. Just in case.” He looked unsure, but lowered himself onto the bed next to her anyways.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just thought,” she shook her head. “Nevermind.”

“No, please continue. Don’t ever feel like you can’t be honest with me, Elliott.” He touched her cheek softly.

“The only time we had sex without protection was our first time in the garden, remember?” She smiled softly, reminiscing.

“Of course I remember, my love. It’s one of my favorite times that we’ve been together.”

“Oh, so you’re ranking them now?” She smirked.

“Definitely not. Every time is special, but that one was even more special to me.”

“I was thinking we could kind of recreate the night.”

His eyes twinkled, full of love for the woman he could never fully give himself to. It was depressing, but Elliott pushed those thoughts behind her horniness and flipped on top of him.

“I love when you take charge, El,” he said, his voice verging on a growl.

“You’ve never used that nickname. What gives?” She tried joking, but his bare shaft pressed between her legs was distracting to say the least.

“I don’t know, I thought it was cute,” he shrugged. “I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”

“No, I love it,” she breathed, and began grinding her hips against his. His grip on her hips tightened, and she leaned forward, kissing him deeply.

He grabbed his dick and rubbed his tip against her opening, teasing her. “You’re a tease.”

He pressed his hips upwards, entering her. Her body shuddered with pleasure as her walls adjusted to his size.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, as her hips moved lazily against his.

“It’s so weird hearing you curse, King Liam,” she whispered in his ear, kissing his neck.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. “I’ve never been aroused by a title before, but I have to say that ‘King Liam’ sounds delectable coming from your lips.”

He moved his hands to grip underneath her ass, lifting and lowering her the length of his shaft. She mewled in response, her legs tightening their grip around his middle. “I’ll call you whatever you want as long as you speed it up,” she purred.

He picked up the pace, deepening his thrusts. All of her worries of the future were a fading blip, her sole focus on pleasuring and being pleasured by Liam.

Before she knew it, he’d flipped her, raised her hips, and pounded into her from behind. “Oh,” she cried, her guttural moan muffled by the thick down pillow.

He sped up, his skin smacking against hers relentlessly, the sounds of ecstasy filling the room. She turned back to gaze at him through half lidded eyes, and was met with Liam’s sultry concentrating face. She’d seen it many times before, when discussing security issues with Bastien, but never in this context. 

She felt herself getting wetter and wetter at the sight of him getting off inside of her. She was the one pleasuring him behind the scenes. She was the one exploring parts of him the public would never see, much less Madeleine. She got to see a side of Liam that not a single soul would ever experience. It gave Elliott a new sense of security, despite the harrowing situation they were in.

He reached into the box again and grabbed a handheld vibrator she hadn’t seen before. “I’m close, my love, and I want to make sure you’re there with me,” he panted, before switching it on.

He tried handing it to her, but instead, she guided his hand between her legs. “Oh fuck, El,” he cursed, sweat trickling down his clean shaven chest.

He leaned over her, keeping his fast pace, and placed the quivering toy between her folds. She arched her back in response, pushing herself further into the pillow.

The sensation of the vibrator mixed with getting fucked brought her to the edge quickly, and she released, her body convulsing beneath Liam’s. She shrieked his name, clutching the sheets. “Oh, Liam, fuck.”

He quickly followed her, his pace becoming more jerky as he came with her. “Fuck, I love you, Elliott,” he shouted. The deep commanding bass of his voice reverberated off the stone walls.

When they could finally move, Liam plopped next to her, spooning her while peppering soft kisses across her neck and shoulders.

She couldn’t have imagined herself anywhere else in that moment but Liam’s arms.

----

After they cleaned up, Elliott threw on a robe and flopped onto the couch, turning on the TV to browse through channels.

He sat next to her shortly after, clad with sweats and a plain t-shirt. “This might be a terrible time, but we need to discuss something rather difficult.”

“That phrasing definitely scares me, but go ahead,” she joked, turning the TV off.

“We’re being pressured to pursue producing an heir,” Liam shook his head, pain and regret dripping off of his every syllable.

“Wh… What?” She forced out. Her knees wobbled, the air knocked out of her lungs. She knew it was coming, but not this soon after the wedding.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his hands balled into fists at his side.

“Why? You just got married! I thought we’d have a couple years at least!” she said, her voice hiking up an octave.

“With Constantine passing away and the terrorist attacks, there’s still some uneasiness within the people and nobles. They’re not sure that we’re still stable as a country. It’s more for the benefit of our image than anything. Trust me, I’ve held off as long as I could.” He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Are you going to have to fuck her?” Elliott’s voice quivered, her breath unsteady. She didn’t know if she was ready for the answer.

His eyes widened. “No, Elliott, I would never. We don’t have feelings for each other like that. The public doesn’t need to know that we’re not having intercourse.”

Elliott’s chest loosened a bit, but she was still cautious as she waited for him to continue. “We’re either opting for adoption, or artificial insemination. There’s not a fertility issue with either of us, but we’re both not capable of sex with each other. It just can’t happen.” He held her gaze, pleading with her to understand.

“I–I can’t continue this if you’re going to have a child with her, Liam. I’d be a homewrecker. I can’t let you be that kind of dad to your kid,” Elliott shook her head, tears freely falling.

His jaw dropped, and he staggered back. “Elliott, my love, I–”

“I know you love me, and I know that I love you. I know that life is going to be so fucking hard without each other, but I can’t do this to your future kid,” she sobbed, sinking into the couch. “You and Madeleine may have consented to our relationship, but your child didn’t sign up for this. Imagine if they found out about us? He’d think so little of you. I can’t have that.”

Her shoulders shook, her breath heaving in and out of her lungs shakily. She was experiencing a loss like she’d never felt before. She could stay with the love of her life in order to satiate her desire to be with him, but at the expense of horrendous guilt, knowing she could possibly break a family up and warp Liam’s future child’s perception of him.

If they stayed together, and the public found out about them, he’d be painted as the bad guy, even though Madeleine encouraged the affair. She’d throw him to the wolves, and he’d be absolutely obliterated by the press.

There wasn’t a winning solution to this problem. They were going to have to do what was best for everyone else, instead of what they truly wanted.

“I’m so sorry, Liam, but I can’t do this. I love you, but I can’t do this anymore,” she repeated and the excruciating pain in her chest continued.

“Elliott, we can figure it out, I know we can–”

“We can’t, Liam! This is it! This is the last time you’re going to see me!” She shouted, her voice trembling and unstable.

“We can still be friends,” he said softly, kneeling next to her trembling form on the couch. “I still want you in my life no matter what, Elliott.”

Anger flashed through her disjointed train of thought. Before she could gather them together, she unleashed her momentary rage on him.

“You’re really that selfish, Liam? You’re that fucking selfish that you could want to maintain the picture perfect life and get everything you could ever want, while keeping me on a short leash? To be there for you emotionally, physically, sexually, but I get nothing in return?” She stood up, pushing an accusatory finger into his exposed chest.

“I have to work under a pen name because of everything that happened. You can’t even Google my government name without reading about how much of a whore I am. I risked my whole life and career to be with you, and you didn’t have the decency to publicly defend me. You just sided with everyone else except for the woman you supposedly ‘love’,” Elliott continued, pushing a tormented Liam closer and closer to the door.

“I have to fly back home when you’re done with me and leave all of my closest friends. This is my real home. I have people who love me and care for me here. I fell in love with Cordonia, its people, and you. But I’m pretty much a prisoner in a dungeon every time I come over,” she rolled her eyes, refusing to shut her mouth and let Liam speak. “All for sex. All for a quick fuck and less than 48 hours of your time before I’m shuttled off back to the cold, heartless city of New York.”

Liam opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Elliott suddenly cackled, cutting off any attempt of him speaking.

“I forgot to tell you that I landed a book deal with a huge publishing company in the city. They want a few novels out of me. They loved my first rough draft of my book so much that they offered me a multi-book deal,” she smiled, shaking her head.

“That’s incredible, baby–”

“I was excited to tell you and instead all I can think about is how by the time I get my first book printed and released, you’ll have a kid. A family,” Elliott walked away from Liam, and sat at the kitchen table, taking a long swig from the champagne bottle.

After a long moment of silence between them, Liam finally spoke. “I know it seems like the universe is fighting us tooth and nail. I know that this situation is the worst we could be in. But Elliott,” he sat down across from her and lifted her chin up with his finger, “You’re the only woman I’ll ever love, and I won’t give up on this unless you tell me to leave you alone.”

“You know I don’t want to tell you to leave me alone. That’s the last fucking thing I want to do, but that’s how it has to be. You’re being selfish right now, Liam. You’re allowed to be selfish sometimes. This whole situation was selfish, but I guess it was okay since Madeleine okay-ed it,” she took another deep drink from the bottle. “But your child is completely innocent. They don’t deserve to be caught up in your selfish decisions.”

He flinched, and his form deflated. “I think… you might be right, El.” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes glistening. “I guess it was absurd to think this affair would last forever.”

She smiled sadly. “It was fun while it lasted.”

“I’ll always love you, El. I’ve always been truthful about that. You’re the only woman I’ll ever love.”

She leaned forward to cup his face in her palm. “I’ll never love anyone the way I love you, Liam.” She took another gulp of the alcohol. “I guess now that you’re confessing, I’ll have to confess, too.”

His brows furrowed as he waited for her to continue.

“I have an appointment with my OBGYN next week. I’ve always wanted one, but I’ve been seriously contemplating a hysterectomy for months now. Since you married Madeleine, really.”

“What? Why?” His eyes widened in surprise.

“I can’t see myself with children, but I can with you. You’re the only man I could ever picture having children with,” her eyes filled with tears. “It’s not a punishment to myself. I just know in my heart I’ll never want children again.”

His eyes brimmed with tears threatening to spill. “I’m so sorry, Elliott.”

Her chin wobbled as the truth of the situation finally set in. She was no longer his, and he was no longer hers. The crown disrupted the fate of the lovers, and there was no amendment.

----

[theangrypokemaniac]

Since I rant enough about the wizening Ma and Pa received in Sinnoh it's only right to wreak bloody rhetorical vengeance elsewhere:

However harsh it may be, I'm glad Takeshi Shudo isn't alive to witness the hateful desecration of his legacy.

...

In a universe where no one's allowed to age, why are the modern Jessie and James so withered and decrepit?

Dragon Ball has been on for more than three decades. Its stars were permitted to grow up, because the head can cope with the opportunities this offers.

Yet Goku, Krillin, Bulma et al bear a greater similarity to their younger selves than these gurning invertebrates do to Team Rocket, wearing a papery approximation of their skin.

Akira Toriyama is actually concerned about his life's work, still coming up with interesting concepts, brand-new characters, and most importantly, values his audience by keeping to the established canon.

If a Dragon Ball fan reads this, I am so jealous of you.

Consider yourselves fortunate not to have seen the thing you loved the most pulverised and the resulting glutinous mass moulded back into makeshift sloppy cadavers.

Look at the state of that man! That's a good picture these days!

Why have the eyelid lines turned into upside down bags?

And why has she collected her lashes for this particular screen shot?

On eyes with a strangely feline slant...

Has she had a face lift?

Get yer money back on that one, love.

And why has he marks under his eyes and round his flapping gob to add the hint of exhaustion?

And why don't her lips reach the edge of her mouth anymore?

And why must he display Beaver Toof, as if he's only got six pegs left?

Giving it to him but not her implies she's lost the lot, needing to gum objects for a result.

And why do her low-slung ears consist only of lobe?

And why can you see his featureless lugs? Why does his barnet stand outwards in tentacles like he's taken to wearing a floppy Starmie?

What's that's meant to be, purple dreadlocks?

And why is her hairline curved and absolutely straight, like a bad wig, apart from the perfunctory bits to the side, which I guarantee won't alter their position throughout the run?

Hair used to move about, now by law there's a set pattern which cannot change. Stamp that life out immediately.

And what's that flaccid growth between his weary peepers? Is that meant to be fringe?

PFFFT!!!

And why are her digits just as thick and oblong as his?

It ain't fingers. It's trotters.

And why's he got a back to his throat, but she hasn't?

And why are we forced to witness it? You can see all the way to his dangler!

The great gaping pink cave looks like the end of Looney Tunes when Porky Pig pops up and stammers: "That's all folks!"

Remember a lack of Beaver Toof? And triangular mouths?

Remember when Meowth was a cheeky, spirited little cat, not a middle-aged human midget, an emaciated wreck bored of it all?

Remember when it wasn't deemed necessary to expose us to internal organs?

And when James was a handsome, hysterically camp dandy, not a creepy, snot-ridden science dweeb?

And when Jessie was a beautiful, stylish young girl, hot-tempered but loyal, not a sullen, cold, reptilian, Botoxed-to-the-gills gorgon?

Remember when Team Rocket were fun? And attractive?

Remember when they had joy in their hearts in spite of their poverty? And vim? And hope?

Remember them acting with flair and imagination?

Remember when their schemes had variety?

Remember when they had more than a single disguise per era?

Remember when they had many occupations? And were good at them?

Remember when they'd have a go at everything and weren't reduced to flipping condemned meat in a grotty burger van FOR THREE YEARS?!

Remember when those in charge didn't despise them, when they got happy endings?

Remember split screens? And face faults? And background tones? And purple streaks down your cheeks?

Remember big, bright open eyes, not shrunken, sagging and empty holes afflicted by glaucoma?

Remember when Jessie had eyelashes?

Remember when Pokémon was an anime?

And when James had a fringe, not a bent swelling like a balloon animal?

And when the artist could be arsed to draw Meowth's Charm properly?

Remember when the voices weren't nails down a blackboard?

When Meowth didn't sound like a wedge of coal grinding beneath an oil-deprived door?

When Jessie's dulcet tones had a wider range that just screechy, and weren't reminiscent of a cacophonous banshee clawing her way from a bog, using her own mug as a shovel?

When James speaking didn't suggest he was at best, suffering sinus difficulties, and at worst, constantly battling to swallow his own sick from looking at her?

Mind you, I'm grateful the 4Kids cast are no longer here. They deserve better, and their presence would only validate the crude bastardisations.

Every time the guttural howls reach my poor ears a chill runs through my system, and reminds me of The Pokémon Company sacking the real dub crew in preference for a job done on the cheap.

Remember speed lines? And Pokéball-throwing animation?

Remember a new motto performance in each installment, not the same stock footage reused again and again?

Remember when it rhymed?

It shows.

Remember remembering it?

Remember when Team Rocket would walk down the street in their uniforms and no one took a blind bit of notice despite the organisation operating there?

And they didn't fanny about in one scabby polyester costume every minute they were travelling, even when NO ONE KNOWS WHO THEY ARE?

Since Unova, whilst confronting Ash and this era's soon-to-be-forgotten companions, you get this exchange:

Moron-Of-The-Week: "Who are Team Rocket?"

Ash: "They're bad guys who steal other people's Pokémon."

EVERY SINGLE BLOODY TIME!!!

WORD-FOR-WORD IDENTICAL!!!

The writers have such deep appreciation for their work they're sending in cut-and-paste scripts.

Remember blasting off when something blew up, not an explosion from nowhere, or giving it the slip with a jet pack, or abduction by a Care Bear?

Remember when the eyebrows matched the hair?

Remember when he wore it long?

Remember blue shock? And sweat drop? And hammerspace? And comedy violence?

Remember her jagged hairline? And it being RED!!!

Remember proper highlights to it, rather than the odd white lump now and again, as if sweating like a pig, or their heads are infested with giant space ticks?

Remember when they were in all the episodes? And were main characters? And on the introduction sequence?

Remember when Jessie and James used to hug? And hold hands?

And bicker as only a couple can, but you knew they'd never cope alone?

Remember when they'd fly into each other's arms under the flimsiest pretext?

Remember when they meant more to one another than just being a pair of unconnected and disembodied wraiths coincidentally walking down the same road?

And they had more than civil interactions?

Remember when she loved him as much as he loved her?

And no one else could ever take his place?

And canon wasn't infected with the ruinous depiction of her as a hard, heartless bitch barely tolerating him until someone 'better' came along, at which point she'd fuck off without a backwards glance?

'Better', as in a scabby, satchel-mouthed, gormless cretin, just to add surly insult to merciless injury.

Never has such a life-long and hardcore defender of the faith flipped into an ardent Rumishipper as I did after that episode, once I'd swept up the fragments of my soul.

Remember when they were sympathetic?

Remember when they showed human warmth?

Remember when they cared about each other?

Remember when they weren't just a jangling, distorted mess of half-recollected traits?

Remember when they weren't really evil?

Remember Rocketshipping? That was a thing once, believe it or not.

Remember when they had a conscience?

Remember when actually wicked characters turned up, and Team Rocket ALWAYS sided with Ash, rather than the nauseating spectacle of suddenly being best buds with the Boss?

Remember when they had contact with the Twerps?

Remember when Team Rocket and the Twerps loved each other in secret and would endanger themselves to save their 'enemies'?

Everything that was once good and winning about them was sucked out, degree by degree, to leave the corpse, hollow and dead, strung up on wires as a grim marionette.

I'm sure most who see this will vehemently disagree, that I'm completely wrong, that THEY like them.

Yes, you like this three, but you don't like Team Rocket. This is not them. You have yours, and I have mine, but let's not pretend they are the same.

Why, if there is no difference, would I be so hostile, when they meant so much too me?

Did you ever wonder where the original fans went, why they all departed en masse? It's not because they 'moved on' or 'matured'.

They didn't leave Pokémon. Pokémon left them.

As the makers rely so heavily on repetition (sorry, nostalgia) they arrogantly expect us to still be here, having blithely welcomed our memories minced and our canon ripped up or ripped off, apparently.

We're intended to put up with watching them lay waste to ťhe series's body, clinging on for when a rotting bone is pulled up now and again and waved at us, before they chuck it aside to continue the dismemberment.

It's been eaten from the inside out, explaining the facial collapse. Behold the beauty on show:

You see what I mean, don't you?

Don't you? No, because otherwise you'd say the same.

How anyone feels able to describe three deformed freaks as 'hot' or 'cute' I will never comprehend.

The uniform collar protrudes like a solid pipe, emphasising the pencil necks.

It gives the impression of wrinkled, leathery tortoises peering out of their shells to secure a tasty lettuce treat.

Is that pretty? No.

Is it so surprising I don't care for my favourites to resemble melted waxwork skeletons of their own dæmonic counterparts?

S&M is a most fitting name, for this is torture.

In the film Death Becomes Her, Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn vie for the attention of Bruce Willis, both taking a serum giving everlasting youth and slimness.

The catch is it confers immortality, but not invulnerability, so when pushed down the stairs Meryl survives but is dead, her neck broken, thus she's zipped up in the morgue fridge.

When Goldie is shot with a canon she too rises, internal organs blown out.

The rest of the adventure involves the pair losing the war against time, patching up and painting over peeling grey skin, holding onto loose limbs as their bodies fall apart.

This obviously is the case here. The trio lapped the potion up at the close of Sinnoh, experienced a fatal accident and are now steadily crumbling to mush before us.

According to grave-diggers the head always goes first, so there you are then.

I have a suspicion that Giovanni lured all three to his crypt, experimenting on them to engineer his ultimate super soldier, which explains their flat, plastic appearance. Those since Unova began are the cyborgs, the real ones locked in his cellar.

You may notice I have about the lowest opinion possible of the current writing team, as they deserve.

Why should I have any respect for vindictive halfwits like this, who hate Team Rocket so much they're going out of their way to distort and uglify them, expressing the resentment in celluloid?

Jessie, James and Meowth lost their only defender in Takeshi Shudo. From that point they descended from loveable, hapless tragic figures to self-parodies (Hoenn) whiney, irritating divs dumping one another at every interval (Sinnoh), robotic, amoral scum (Unova and Kalos) and now physically repulsive minor additions (Alola and Galar). Is that trajectory all accidental?

It not that it's a new 'style' (for want of a better word), as were that the case, this hideousness would apply to the entire cast, but it's only done to Team Rocket. How could that be unless motivated by malice?

Given the sub thesps are obliged to prostrate themselves in the dust, begging fans to make their appreciation known, it smacks of desperation.

They wouldn't need to ask that were the trio treated as an integral component. They must sense the objections and are thus drumming up support to avoid the dole queue.

Are those in charge so resentful of their presence it manifests in mutilating them, keen to do anything that may alienate the fanbase, so at the first sign of a dip in popularity they can leap upon it as the perfect excuse to write Team Rocket out?

Why be surprised? These are imbeciles who reject their own canon at the close of every generation, so why care about someone else's?

If people have to harangue the writers with grovelling praise of their retcons, rehashes and all-round twatting about, butter 'em up sufficiently, with the implied threat of deserting the franchise should Team Rocket be ejected, taking their purses too, all so the smug, avaricious berks deign to put the trio in the next generation, that proves they don't want them, so how can what they write for their characters be objectively of any worth?

Team Rocket would've departed by now, were there not a palpable worry their absence might ring the death knell of the whole thing, turning off the financial tap, which is what matters.

Therefore they are retained, grudgingly, and only so long as the clamour continues at its current decibel level. If that drops it's over, and don't expect a romantic resolution. Why should pleasing you be a concern when you're to leave with them?

Ask yourself: how much of your devotion is based on what they are right now, and how much is from who they used to be?

How long can they live off past glories?

The offences done in Unova and Kalos were bad enough, but remarkably Game Freak found further depths to plumb, therefore it can only get worse.

I have of course retained the loveliest for last:

Be still, my beating heart.

No, really, be still. Stop infact. 

Planet of the Apes.

[tartareus]

Fiona Goode as layers !

LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE

NAME -   fiona borgia vandenheuvel goode

EYE COLOUR -   vivid hazel although her gaze visibly darkens when she’s angry

HAIR STYLE / COLOUR -   like her father before her fiona has golden blonde hair, a family genetic trait that seemed to almost skip her daughter. fiona personally hates it when her hair is too long and has never had it any longer than at shoulder length. naturally straight with the odd curls at the tips, the supreme likes to keep a classic look that is just hers, with hair cascading down in gentle waves framing her face, but with a modern air to it. eventually, when she begins to lose her hair, fiona takes on wearing wigs ( high quality ones that try to mimic what her hair was like but just won’t curl right ) and headwraps sometimes

HEIGHT -   5ft 8 / 1,73m,  that tall and still refusing to wear heels that are smaller than 5 inch

CLOTHING STYLE -  black, copious amounts of it. it is not just because she is a widow, she has been fond of the colour ever since she was a teen and not only she finds it classy and charming, it also helps that it gives her an even more threatening and severe look. the cut is flattering, hugging her curves pleasantly but not too much as she’d rather take a classy look than a sexy one anytime. in the odd occasion that she wears other colours, she goes straight to red - vivid blood red or the dark crimson piece she loves so much. she's never wearing cheap stuff - hell, even her sleepwear is from chanel - because fiona loves fancy things, always has && will not hesitate to spoil herself buying them. overall she is stylish, even if she hardly ever leaves her comfort zone and drops the classics that are her favourites , like chanel and prada.

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE -    to me, it’s her jawline (she’s got a jawline for days - beautiful), but if you were to ask her she’d probably say it’s her legs. they are long, smooth and give her a lean look && while she knows there’s nothing particularly special about them fiona has learnt to use her legs in a way that could easily rival marlene dietrich.

LAYER TWO : THE INSIDE

FEARS -   her own death, losing cordelia for good, lack of power, not being loved, being lonely,witch hunters

GUILTY PLEASURE - oh boy, i could say so many things here - sex, alcohol, manipulating people - but let’s be honest she’s not feeling guilty about any of these, they’re just plain pleasures for her. so i’m going with the REAL deal here: crispy spicy fried chicken ! i kid you not ! catch fiona smuggling into the academy some kfc in the middle of the night after she’s done some shit like killing a student or digging up a racist psycho, that is all the comfort food she needs.

BIGGEST PET PEEVE - lack of respect, insubordination and incompetence, seriously...the quickest way to get her to turn your brain into scrambled eggs is by doing any of these. she will not have it.

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE - tbh it really depends on the verse, it used to be becoming the supreme, then it became being powerful. i think, in the way i chose to play her, it’s keep her powers and position as supreme as she becomes immortal ; on a side track, patching up things with her daughter is one of her goals, but it never really makes it to her main ambition.

LAYER THREE : THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS UPON WAKING UP -   when she’s not waking up with a random joe or jane ( in which she wakes up like “who the hell is that? get out.”) beside her, considering the amount of alcohol she drinks, fiona usually wakes up with a hangover and a thundering headache so it’s something along the lines of “  goddamnit, close the drapes ! where's that  painkiller ?? ”

WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT MOST -   “what can i do to get what i want ?” she’s always after ways to get something for herself, manipulate people so they are useful for her

WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED -   she takes a stiff drink and wishes there was someone to hold her - wishing that she truly had someone there for her, because at the end of the day, after parties and fancy meetings, that’s exactly what fiona is: alone and lonely.

WHAT YOUR BEST QUALITY IS -   she gets shit done, just goes for it with heart and soul - oh, wait...she doesn’t have one...well, semantics aside, she really applies 100% of herself to whatever she does. that dedication extends to her love life too. she might not be the most romantic person around and will try and manipulate things into her favour but if she really likes you she will do everything in her power to make it clear that you matter and that she cares about you.

LAYER FOUR : WHAT’S BETTER ?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES - she does well in parties and places full of people, she’s extroverted and can be oh so charming and sweet when she wants to, but she’d prefer single dates if she’s serious - especially in the beginning - as they are more private and intimate. once she feels confident that this relationship might work, she’ll be happy enough to show you off to pretty much everybody she knows ( and take the opportunity to claim you as her own, as a way to mark her territory because she sucks at sharing )

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED -   love never got her that far, respect is fickle so it’s neither, she’d rather be feared. the respect would come after this.

BEAUTY OR BRAINS -   brains, always, what’s the point of looking good and being a total idiot ? she values beauty (in herself and in others) but nothing compares to a cunning mind.

DOGS OR CATS - it might come as a surprise, given her own feline nature, but fiona loves dogs and always wanted to have one but...well, she doesn’t want to clean up after them && have all the responsibility that comes with having one so...she’d rather not have them to save herself from the headache.

LAYER FIVE : DO YOU…

LIE -   it might be surprising how much she tells the truth to be honest ? fiona is a truth teller, as crass and mean as that truth might come out, by default except when she lies, a shame is: she has to lie way too often.

BELIEVE IN YOURSELF - oh, she’ll make it seem like she’s THE shit, like she knows everything and that YOU need her... but does that meet her own standards ? no. she despises false modesty ( fiona knows she’s smart and powerful, no denying on her vain nature ) but she is, deep down, a little insecure

BELIEVE IN LOVE -   "pft, love is for fools and silly school girls.” yes, of course she does.

WANT SOMEONE - yes.

LAYER SIX : EVER BEEN …

BEEN ON STAGE - in fancy parties when she has to talk about someone and once when she went along with stevie in a tour 

DONE DRUGS – the million dollar question that should be asked here is which drugs fiona hasn’t done yet ?

CHANGED WHO YOU WERE TO FIT IN - no, she’d rather change the people around her than change herself.

LAYER SEVEN : FAVOURITES

FAVOURITE COLOUR -   black and red. she despises pastels because she never looked good on them

FAVOURITE ANIMAL – panthers.

FAVOURITE MOVIE - she'll say she likes some obscure french movie full of philosophy and complex female themes but that’s bullshit. in reality fiona is a slut for old hollywood movies like singing in the rain and to catch a thief, 80’s slashers and, surprise, the odd nancy meyers movie every once in a blue moon

FAVOURITE GAME – scheming, no just kidding…am i? chess is a bore to her, especially because she never really worked the nerve to learn the rules right. she’d take gin rummy and poker anytime ( not that she’s any good at them though )

LAYER EIGHT : AGE

DAY YOUR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE -   october 17th,she’s a libra sun, leo rising with a scorpio moon

HOW OLD WILL YOU BE -   if she had lived long enough to actually have another birthday she’d be 63

AGE YOU LOST YOUR VIRGINITY -  18

DOES AGE MATTER – depends on the situation; by default she finds younger people annoying with all their antics and will not hesitate to tell them so.

LAYER NINE : IN A PERSON

BEST PERSONALITY -   someone who won’t be threatened by her or insecure by her status and actions, she likes confident and capable people, someone who won’t back down and won’t quit at the first issue they run into. someone fierce yet passionate, someone intriguing

BEST EYE COLOUR -   dark brown

BEST HAIR COLOUR – she’s usually attracted to brunettes and raven haired people.

BEST THING TO DO WITH A PARTNER -   sex. kidding, i mean, it really depends on the relationship and the partner ? she’s all for long conversations and dancing by the moonlight but she’s not the type who’ll be making grand love speeches, telling you how infatuated she is with you. Don’t expect any of that. She will however take you to places like paris and Greece, long vacations are a thing that Fiona is very prone to, especially with a partner.

LAYER TEN : FINISH THE SENTENCE

I LOVE -  “ the thrill of the hunt, my dance; I love the delicious high magic and power give me, that no drug could ever imitate.”

I FEEL -   “ like I’m slipping away, fading as the world goes on without me. ”

I HIDE -   “ how much i truly care. ”

I MISS -   “ loving and being loved. ”

I WISH -   “ cordelia would understand that all I’ve done was to make sure she was tough enough to be able to survive this ugly wide wicked world”

tagged by : no one, i just stole it lmao tagging:  @copiesofme​​ (dolores) ;  @bloodykneestm​​ (ransom) ; @rosemalice​​ (avis) ; @gdvas​​ (marie) ; @flyingupward​​ (imogene) ; @hismanners​​ && @fencetm​​ !! + anyone that wants to do this, just say i tagged ya !!

[louisa-townsend-fmp-hair]

2.

Human history is rich with hair trends, for centuries it has been cut, coloured and covered, styled, shaped and shown off. As Lauren Pilippon stated, “hairstyling is a genuine art form: it symbolically represents our transition from unkempt barbarians to civilised social beings. We are the only animals on the planet to give our hair so much care and attention”. As our priorities have shifted from the days of mere survival, self-consciousness has become a major factor in our growth as humans and, whilst it may be considered a vanity, our hair has become a great concern of ours.  In its most rudimentary state, hair provides protection from the sun’s UV rays and is a source of insulation in cooler climates. Inherently hair represents youth, vitality and fertility, making it a great point of sexual attraction when seeking a mate. Beyond that we have placed our own meanings, connotations, rules and prejudices on the stuff, we spend hours altering its physical state and as of 2018, the global haircare market was estimated to be worth about $87.9 billion. The transformative power of hair has raised the likes of Marilyn Monroe and Rita Hayworth from unknown beauties to Hollywood icons. Hayworth (born Margarita Carmen Cansino) changed her hair from dark brown to auburn and had an electrolysis treatment to alter her hairline whilst Monroe was famed for her platinum tresses which she got retouched every Saturday, flying her colourist from San Diego to Los Angeles every week. We idolise celebrities’ hair in the modern world in a very similar way to how the ancient Romans worshipped that of their gods and goddesses; one major difference however is that we have access to our idols. A growing phenomenon of the 20th and 21st century has been the auctioning of hair, with the record standing at $115,000 for a few strands of Elvis Presley’s hair. In these cases hair has performed as both a tool for self protection and a sentimental object to be preserved, its purpose is simultaneously functional and decorative; it must be for this reason that hair has become such a valuable tool to humans.

Hair has had a long history as a financial source. When wigs reached their height of extravagance in the 1770s, they required masses of real hair to build. Whilst some people in financially vulnerable positions would sell their hair to wig makers, many cases of hair-stealing crimes emerged. Some people were wrongly informed that hair removal was a medical treatment for fever, others were captured and had their hair forcibly removed. While cases like these are rare in Europe today, still in some Eastern cultures the selling of hair is commonplace practice. The non-consensual cutting of hair has been used in places such as c19th prisons and the Nazi concentration camps as an instrument of humiliation and control. Sociologist Anthony Synnott declared, hair is “a powerful symbol of the self”, with this in mind the removal of hair is a form of stripping away a part of ourselves. A warder at mill bank prison told Henry Mayhew (journalist and social reformer) that many inmates “[especially female prisoners] would rather lose their lives than their hair!”.  Cases such as these are valuable sources to study when considering the psychological impact our hair has on us and why we still give it so much importance today.

Hair has been strongly influenced by religion for centuries, but much like hair’s place in politics, this has shifted warped throughout time. In the English civil war, hairstyles became highly factionalised. The oppositions the Cavaliers and the Roundheads’ hair provided a symbol for their opposing ideologies. The long-haired Cavaliers believed in political and religious orthodoxy, they fought for the continuation of royalism as the divine right of kings proved royalty to be closest to god. Contradicting these beliefs were the cropped-haired Roundheads, parliamentarians by cause, they stood as revolutionaries for the partial democratisation of the British administration. These two sides utilised their appearance to express either rebellion or conservatism in a way that has been mimicked in waves throughout history and still today- it would be worth studying the origins of the punk movement with the use of hair to reflect rebellion. In other cases it is seen to be the cropped or shaven hair that is more holy. The early Christian church tried to stop people from wearing wigs, especially women as it was seen to be an offense to chastity and a visible connection with illicit pleasures to wear such an embellishment on the head. In the first century AD, Clement of Alexandria stated that it was impossible to receive the priest’s blessing offered by laying his hands over the head as the benediction could not pass through the hair of a stranger. This attitude was further reflected in the second century by the early Christian author, Tertullian, who believed that the personal disguise provided by a wig was adulterous even writing that “all wigs are such disguises and inventions of the devil… if you will not throw away you false hair as hateful to Heaven, let me make it hateful to you by reminding you that it may well have come from the head of a damned person or an unclean person” . These attitudes of the church were consistent across centuries with the Council of Constantinople even excommunicating a number of wig-wearing Christians in 692 AD. Whilst this is seemingly a more forceful dictation of how one must present in the church, for Buddhist monks, the act of shaving one's head embodies the humility and willingness to renounce earthly cares that are required of the religious practice. This therefore stands as an initiation process to shift the cause of one’s life. It would be worth exploring the sacrifice of hair in a consensual act, such as in this religious process,when studying the symbolism hair holds in our earthly lifestyles.

Different cultural movements through the ages have provided wildly opposing hairstyles and attitudes towards hair. In the 60s, influenced by bands like The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, a trend of longer, free growing hair swept the world. Music genres like glam rock and punk brought in their own aesthetics, heavily influencing the way hair was worn by both genders. And the anti establishment ideologies of the 60’s inspired wearing ones natural hair in a free afro style. However, perhaps the largest and most influential hair trend of the twentieth century was the 1920s bob.  In 1909 Antoine de Paris cut the hair of French actress Eva Lavallière, whilst the trend didn't gain momentum for around a decade, the work of this one hairstylist provided a foundation for radical change to grow. The 1920s bobbed hair phase provided women with a hairstyle that both visually represented and practically supported the emergence of womens’ liberation. Singer Mary Garden was in her 50s when she cut her hair and she wrote of the experience to have a profound effect on how she viewed her role as a woman. “Bobbed hair is a state of mind and not merely a new manner of dressing my head” she stated, “to my way of thinking, long hair belongs to the age of general feminine helplessness. Bobbed hair belongs to the age of freedom, frankness, and progressiveness.” Former trends from the Victorian and Edwardian eras were characterised by the abundance of accessories including postiches, padding and ornaments. The bob offered a complete antithesis to these fashions. The style embodied the freedom and youthfulness that characterised the ‘new woman’, it worked with new technological advancements such as the car, which had an open top which would have ruined a victorian padded coiffure. It also reflected the shorter, swinging hemlines that characterised the new style of dress. It was accessible to all and cheap to maintain, meaning women had far more time to do other things. The new style wasn't entirely accepted with open arms however. In 1923 a report appeared in the newspaper that some hairdressers refused to cut bobs for women unless they were married and their husband approved due to great backlash many of them received from the men in their client’s lives. Issues became more serious in situations like that of Mexico city in 1924 when the Archbishop denounced the bobbed fashion and excluded women with the style from church. Some self-appointed vigilantes took it upon themselves to seek out the wearers of the style and forcibly shave them as a punishment. This resulted in a mass of riots across the city  between armed soldiers and many students. An even worse case of intolerance came later in the 1920s in China where the execution of women with these short styles was introduced; it was interpreted as evidence for the support of oppositional politics. This hairstyle change took place in an era of great societal shift. Whether the style was a product that adapted to this new female behaviour, or the style itself encouraged a new way of living, it's not clear; what is clear however is that it signified a great turning point in gender politics. The new ‘boyish’ look  provided an opportunity for young women to take on roles that were previously only given to men, sparking opposition but ultimately forming a new path for the modern woman to evolve. Specific movements like these can seem frivolous on the surface but under better scrutiny, we can find great power in the way hair has been used to oppose and change politics. I think this is a really interesting starting point to then consider the impact hair has on today’s world.

From classic literature to fairytales, folklore to films, hair has been a major part in creating a character’s identity. Classically tropes like blonde hair have been attributed to the good, innocent heroines of stories, her youth and purity, as well as charm and good luck signified by the fair hue meant she was promised the happy ending. Contrastingly the dark haired woman has always held an air of danger and fierceness. I think the classic stories we have all grown up hearing, whether they are fairy tales or old legends, could provide an interesting indicator for how we subconsciously judge hair still to this day. Through studying the ways in which the entertainment media depict hair, I believe we may be able to shine a light on many of our internalised stereotypes linked with hair and thus re educate our initial assumptions.

[natsunoomoi]

FFVII Thoughts

-This whole thing with Jessie is so much filler it’s mostly unnecessary. Plus I feel like the whole impact of Jessie and her arc and even this filler is detracted by her being a former actress. Like I mentioned before I feel like her being an actress and known for toying with men kind of takes away from her crush on Cloud and makes it seem cheap. Also even though she’s someone’s daughter who is more tech inclined, I always thought of her as an engineer herself and like a former Shinra engineer that quit would have been a more powerful message than that of an actress. Even if you keep her Dad getting sick it adds an extra layer. Like say she worked in R&D and they like pushed an experimental mako enhancement for the plant too soon and she warned it would make people sick and it made her Dad sick. There’s a lot of ways her story would have been better and fit more nicely into the narrative. :/

-Even though Jessie annoys me, Biggs is kind of okay but he comes off to me as a little cliche. Wedge is kind of a little nicer.

-Aww, they took out the pickpocket on the train during the ID scan. That would have been a lot harder to deal with, but yeah.

-Good lord they stretched out these areas.

-Completely lost in this lamp and platform maze, but after a long time I finally figure out how to get out even with the items.

-Another maze and more reactor context change.

-Robot change where you can screw it over. That’s interesting.

-Yay Aerith!

-Dang Reno. You hard.

-OMG stupid ghosts get out of the way. I bet I have to trek all this way back to get this materia.

-This church is now also a crazy rat maze.

-Now onto roof rat maze.

-Ugh, why do I have to take the long way just to avoid Rude?

-Let me explore the town!

-Cloud and Aerith are way more helpful in this game. The kids have a secret hide out. Cool, I guess.

-Chadley is seriously simultaneously frustrating and useful.

-Yay I can go back and get crap from the church.

-Okay, so sneak out. Why tf is there a pot right outside my room that I can’t see?

-Okay, so there’s Aerith. We have a secret tunnel-ish. So many ladders. So much up and down.

-Out of that maze and yay they kept that scene where Aerith brings up Zack. Still not sure I’m liking all the foreshadowing cuz this was a spoiler in the original game.

-Tifa looks nice in that outfit. Like in general in this game though. They gave her a pretty thoughtful makeover that like captures the essence of her original profile, but also with some added tweaks in style that I actually like better. Like she didn’t have those thigh highs before, but those are a nice touch. And instead of her mini skirt her skirt is actually a skort and is pleated. Plus like the better boob support.

-Good lord Wall Mart is so involved now. So many alleys. Get out of the way yo!

-Leslie seems kind of cool, but I’m not sure cuz he works for a creep.

-Ugh hussle of trying to figure out how to get in. This sponsorship thing is new. I guess Corneo got more exclusive in this game.

-I have to go to the coloseum? Ugh, why?

-This crowd is full of haters.

-Okay winning over the crowd....

-I have an extra battle? WTF is this BS. I almost wish it was the Turks making a surprise appearance. That seems like a silly stupid thing the original would have done.

-Obviously Cloud caught someone else’s attention.

-Yay! Finally dress up time.

-Awesome. I’m doing a bunch of quests now.

-Whoops I didn’t level up my materia all the way. I got most of them so it’s doing fine but just the medicine thing.

-I saw a lot of people complaining about Jules, but he wasn’t so bad? I just needed to remember the rhythm and what I was doing by saying it so I could keep track of the pattern.

-Ugh, Johnny where you taking me? I have to wait for someone not yet.

-Oh Aerith looks nice. I like her outfit.

-Okay time to dress up Cloud.

-Whoa, Folia is a honeybee? Teh shock.

-What is this mini-game? It’s hard to keep rhythm and sometimes I actually can’t see the queue. Why do you design a mini-game where you can’t see the thing clearly?

-Oh shit I missed a track because I didn’t want to sit there and keep playing a frustrating mini-game. D:

-Yay! At least I got the cute dress. But real talk I kind of miss the old way to dress up Cloud only cuz I would want to see what the different colored wigs look like, but that whole storyline is very trans insensitive. Or even drag insensitive, so I understand why they changed it.

-Andrea is kind of cool. I was worried they were going to make him into some kind of flaming stereotype, but actually although he definitely has some flare, he’s a pretty well balanced character and none of the characters really judge him for his personal choices. Although definitely some judgement for the stuff they make them do, but that’s fair because you’re being subjected to it. Good on Cloud for following along.

-Okay time to take down this fat loser. So how does this work? How do you know who he’ll choose?

-Wait does he just choose Cloud every time? That’s a little less fun. I liked dressing Cloud up as the prettiest princess so that you could get him picked.

-This bit of them threatening Corneo’s private parts is still one of my favorite things. It was teh shock when I saw it the first time back in the day and I still enjoy it now.

-Ugh, the sewer. Also a lot of denial. But ugh the sewer.

-My sister was right. The train graveyard is creepier.

-Oh crap I forgot to steal from Eligor. !@#$@#%

-Alright climb the pillar. This is kind of slightly more fun with the extra scenes from Reno and Rude.

-Whoa, they saved Wedge. Cuz he originally totally ate it. Like straight fell off the pillar several stories and was unresponsive.

-Biggs and Jessie still die. That’s fine. I actually feel less sorry for Jessie dying than I did with the original. :/ I think because they managed to actually make her irritating with how over the top they made her.

-Aerith and Marlene is so cute!

-Helicopter shots are annoying, but I like hearing Reno. It’s sad that Fujiwara Keiji died two days after this came out. This is like the last thing he did probably. But his voice fit Reno really well. I don’t think it fit Ardyn well. Ardyn I think deserved a lower register, but I think Square gave him the part probably because of his diagnosis cuz I think Ardyn’s in-game struggle in a sense reflected his real life trials in some way only in the game he became immortal. Real life not so much, but immortalized in a sense through these works. I wonder if Square would have wanted it to come out sooner so that maybe he could have played it himself a little bit before passing, but they had to push the date for quality and stuff.

-I don’t know why, but I really like looking at Reno’s open shirt. Like I think the way they did his abs are a bit different from Advent Children. I think his shirt is even open wider than in AC. *checks* Yeah, it is. AC it’s buttoned up toward the top and just the top one or two are left open. And okay for real Remake has his shirt open even more than even in the original. Nevermind him buttoning up more for AC, but like in original FF7 polygon Reno and original Nomura art Reno looks like it’s only unbuttoned to about mid-pecs. Remake Reno is like down to like the top of his stomach. I guess I can’t complain about the equal opportunity fan service.

-Tseng is actually done pretty well, but I keep looking at him cuz he just strikes me as odd.... Oh wait is it his hair? Is that a hair tie? I don’t think he had a hair tie before. I think we were just supposed to assume he had his hair slicked back and kept in place by gel or hair spray. Also his face is interesting cuz I think they tried to make him actually look Chinese, but I think he just turned out looking kind of like Tamaki Hiroshi. Oh and Suwabe-san!

-LOL Rude carrying Reno like a rag doll.

-And there goes the plate. Oh, no, Wedge. I guess he did die. But the kitties. ;o;

-Let me explore Wall Market! Ugh, fine.

-That Kyrie chick seems kind of a little annoying. I kind of want to let Barret hit her. But I’m probably biased because I had a hot mess of a flatmate with that name and she like didn’t clean up after herself and left dirty dishes in her room and like pushed it up against her roommate’s bed. >.> Like passing responsibility over them to someone else. And I think she maybe broke one of my cups? And like tried to use my stuff without asking? Maybe stole some stuff too but idk. And like worst of all was like she sold her car so she could get money because she couldn’t hold down a job and like needed money and instead of like you know paying rent and bills, she spent it on shoes and make up and left the receipt out for us to find.

-Wall Market is...different in the day time.

-All teh quests.

-Okay Kyrie is still kind of annoying and stupid when you talk with her one on one, but she at least seems better than my flatmate.

-Oh old lady is the Angel.

-Findin’ all the birds. It kind of strikes me that they added this in cuz of how much time it takes to get places and it’s kind of like XV and even the XIV MMO, but not. I guess it’s a staple now with their newer titles because of how grand they make the scenery.

-Down in the sewer again....

-I just really wanna find Corneo’s stash.

-OMG I got a chase this little asshole now.

-Okay so now Leslie. Leslie is a good guy after all. Not a bad new character too. Nice decent development and stuff.

-But gdi Corneo’s still alive. I mean, I knew that cuz Wutai, but ugh.... I think he deserved at least a punch in the face.

-Okay so anyway I guess I’m going up now. Just going to finish up stuff before I go past the point of no return. Get all teh things I can from the coliseum and all that.

-Climbing, climbing. Oops I missed a thing. Was I supposed to?

-Gdi this helicopter thinger is annoying. I can’t slash any boxes. Just kick them around.

-Okay done so I guess I’m going in.

-...Is this a parking lot?

-Oh okay so here’s the entrance.

-Shinra headquarters actually looks like a bigger version of Square Enix’s headquarters in Higashi Shinjuku. I’ve been there pretty recently and also like to cut through the office building to get to Artnia cuz I don’t want to walk all the way around. Decor and stuff and specifics are definitely different, but like the double tower U-shaped look with the walkway in the middle thing is very much how the building is in Shinjuku. Specifics with the stairs and escalators are also different, but kind of the same deal with some amount of ambient lighting at night time and the lobby and such is still mostly open in the evening for people who work late or want to pass through. Some of the doors being locked or like certain staircases and such being roped off are a thing as well. I just know this cuz I often go to Artnia around dinner time when I’m there, so it’s generally after hours already.

-I think even the parking lot situation might even be the same? I’m not sure because I usually take the subway and that let’s out into the mini mall downstairs, but parking if you go there and do that is like subterranean for sure and would be the first layer if it was on a plate.

-I mean, the HQ is also technically kind of on a plate also. Cuz the mini-mall is like below normal street level, but it’s like more cool with like a Lawson’s and restaurants. Coming up from the subway is also a lot similar POV-wise to coming up through grappling hook too in terms of perspective.

-Getting the key. Getting a glove on the way. This part is kind of cool. I always liked this part of the game in the original too and exploring an empty office.

-This is suspicious. I have to take a tour...?

-I guess this is interesting to learn about the company and stuff.

-Weird movie theater. Oh look a spoiler hallucination in the theater. It’s nice to see more of Sephiroth.

-Oh yeah the mayor. That’s a bit of a change that he’s secretly Avalanche. Whatever cool. Yay I got a weapon.

-I gotta do a battle simulator. Oh great I guess if I want items I have to sit here and do all the simulators.

-Oh look it’s Chadley. I have turn ins. Take my stuff.

-Okay so hike upstairs....oh shit they’re going in. Sneak slowly behind and like go around and explore stuff.

-Found the toilet. Haha. Tifa yells at Cloud if he goes in the wrong one. Good.

-This is a nice bathroom.

-Okay up in the vent.

-Interesting extra context and oh yeah Palmer saw Sephiroth.

-Hojo is more gross looking than I remember. Like piled on extra creep factor for him.

-Following into the lab. I guess I should be glad he wasn’t a dumbass and trying to mate Aerith with Red XIII.

-Interesting that it’s only now that they’re really making good use of Those Who Fight Further. I don’t think I’ve really heard it all that often before.

-Yay! Yamaguchi Kappei!

-This part getting serious with Sephiroth is appropriate, but kind of different with him starting to freak out.

-Oooh, Turks scene! It’s nice that they know they are fan favorites now and they put them in more scenes. I wish it would actually play their theme every time they show up like it used to. That’s what made them badass too.

-Aww, Aerith’s room.

-Interesting they are talking in Aerith’s room instead of getting captured and Aerith talking through the wall.

-Shinra science experiment...You’re probably not entirely wrong.

-Huh, wisdom from Red XIII. That’s different context.

-Wow, that’s different. Pointing out a different greater enemy so early. I guess it makes sense Aerith would know because of the whispers she hears, but also it kind of sucks the mystery of the progression of the original story.

-Dang, Sephiroth and Cloud confrontation-ish now? Not going to mysteriously take a body and stab the President?

-Oh joy another crazy rat maze.

-Hojo is definitely more gross than he used to be.

-Oh, nope. Just different order. There’s the trail of blood.

-Well, “blood”. Jenova blood is now apparently purple bubbling ooze.

-President Shinra is just hanging?! DISAPPOINTED. I liked it better when you just showed up and he had a giant sword in his back. Also wondering if you’d be blamed for it, but yeah, sword in the back!

-This is what you get for showing mercy. :/ Sword in back was better.

-Oh shut up already so Rufus can take over.

-Oh you get to watch the sword in the back.

-WTF. He’s not supposed to stab your party.

-Ghost things protecting fate is weird. But also I have some theories like the game is conscious that it’s a remake or something and for some reason they’re repeating history, but some things are different because people don’t do things in exactly the same way but certain things are fated to happen so they have to be preserved.

-Interesting that this game shows the cloaked figures going back and forth between Sephy. Kind of takes away the fun from years of debate on the subject about wtf is happening.

-And here’s Rufus. Still better than his Dad.

-I like that there’s more Turks footage than the original.

-Kind of nice that there’s more tender moments between Tifa and Cloud or rather we can experience them bonding more first hand.

-Did they make Wedge die in a different spot?

-Motorcycle bit is a bit different. Boss on motorcycle is kind of hard. Died once.

-I think it’s just cuz it’s a Remake that they added him here, but Sephiroth is at the end of the highway and I kind of think it sucks. :/ Cuz like it shouldn’t be like this.

-Why is Zack alive? Oh I think this is a flashback. Aww, this is supposed to be a hidden thing. ;o; Stop feeding them all the stuff. Let them find it.

-Whisper monsters...Okay this is just some kind of an AU. Like not really entirely a remake, but a different game in the same timeline cuz Sephy figured out somehow how to alter time and space. Aerith knows kind of what’s up because she became god essentially during AC. Would also explain why the game itself is giving away so many damn spoilers too.

-Holy shit, is Zack dead or not? D:

-Okay I looked up a thing and it said his death is ambiguous, but he’s never seen. Zack was an actual SOLDIER too so he could be a cloaked guy for all we know. But also at the end of AC it was both him and Aerith chilling together welcoming people to the lifestream so who the hell knows what she did.

-Biggs is alive?!

-So okay, if this is an AU things can change and I’m less gripey about the weird things that happened. Cuz it’s like just another pinpoint on the timeline that kind of has pseudo time travel and when you repeat things over again they’re not always exactly the same. I suppose for Square itself it’d be kind of boring to make an actual Remake because they don’t want to take away from the original and they want people to still buy that too cuz it was so good even though the graphics didn’t age so well. Instead they slapped Remake on a new title and trolled us all into thinking they actually did it when actually it’s like a timey wimey thing.

[amemixfan]

Can we have an L&L AU where the entire thing is a tv show?

• Like August’s actor live tweets every time it comes up on TV and likes to make fun of the characters.

• Saerys’ actor is actually British and always complains about the contacts they make him wear.

• Iseul’s actor has to get a new wig every so often because the studio is cheap and the little hair fibers fall off. It’s actually a game on set to see how many hairs they’ll find in between takes.

• Solaire’s actress has a very active Snapchat following and posts little behind the scenes videos for fans. Sometimes she screws up and spoils the next episode.

• The actress that plays MC also plays the Witch Queen so you have the occasional video where she is acting like a cute goofball on set as the Witch Queen which is a hilarious parallel.

• The actor that plays Alain h a t e s the way Lovestruck treats his character and constantly brings it up in interviews. He makes fun of Alain’s constant self sacrifice on social media and will casually mention on interviews that “oh I’m so excited for season 8-you know if I’m not KILLED OFF this time.”

• The actress that plays Helena is actually an activist for abuse and rape survivors so she works hand in hand with the team when it comes to writing her character. She’s directed a few episodes centered around Helena and other activists like Mariska Hargitay have praised her for it. She probably has quite a few awards.

•The actors that play the Generals are actually pretty nice in real life and are always hanging out with the Wolfson crew offcamera. It’s always a running joke that they’re hanging out with the enemy.

•The actor that plays Reiner actually didn’t have a beard before filming but now has to keep it because it’s “a part of his brand”.

• The actor that plays Magnus wears a fake mustache and it keeps falling off during takes.

• The actress that plays Altea is also big on social media so she’ll walk around set taking selfies and photos with the cast. She probably nominated at least one of the other actors for the Ice Bucket Challenge. More than likely has a YouTube channel.

• It’s a running joke to ask the actress that plays MC which of her costars is the better kisser. She swears she will take it to her grave and refuses to answer.

• The actress that plays Altea totally dyed her hair for the role despite being offered a wig because “she wanted pink hair anyway”. Her real life little brother probably plays Lional also and that’s why it was easy to play off siblings.

• There is a whole blooper reel of MC screwing up her lines because she has to memorize two different characters. She more than likely has accidentally started a scene as MC with her “Witch Queen” voice.

• Saerys’ actor has probably also screwed up a scene by slowly sliding into a British accent on accident because “goddamn it what would a demon accent even sound like?!”

• Alain’s actor has tossed the script more than once and complained that his character keeps getting killed off. He probably even mocks his “route” online by live tweeting.

• August’s actor has never actually ridden a horse before and totally panicked when they said he had to learn.

• Ryland and Solaire’s actors have stumbled on set sneakingly trying to get on camera because they don’t have enough screen time.

• Reiner’s actor actually can’t play the piano and has to move his fingers around to a recording. There might even be a little video one of the other cast members snagged from an angle where you can clearly see his fingers are not touching the keys.

• It’s always awkward to film magic scenes because Helena and Altea just wave their hands around and CGI takes care of the rest. So you’ll have their actresss flinging their arms every which way then the other actors falling to the floor dramatically and out of no where to mimic dying by spell.

• It’s a joke that the studio can’t afford more extras so you constantly see the same knights around. The Dwarven and human knights have become memes on social media for their constant cameos.

• Ishara’s actress is actually a mom and sometimes brings her kids on set. The other actors love to call her their “screen mom” and she brings snacks for them to eat because they’re “not eating enough”.

• At least one of the Generals has a very dramatic blooper reel of them dying in an overly comedic and exagerated fashion.

• There’s also another blooper reel during sex scenes because the actors always end up laughing during takes because of how silly it is to film those.

• As soon as the director yells “Cut!”, there’s a swear from one of the cast members as they rip off their armor because “oh my God it’s hot in this thing!”

• The actresses that play Sophie / Solaire and MC / Witch Queen always have trouble when they’re filming a scene where both their characters are interacting. “Where do I look? How far do I reach out? What am I doing?”

• Helena’s actress has to wear heels because Helena is ridiculously tall and sometimes has to wear a corset for her costume. She always complains and can’t believe women used to dress like that.

• Reiner’s actor, who actually has a degree in history, has, in more than one occasion, pointed out the degree of inaccuracies on the show.

• Saerys’ actor hates wearing his wig because it’s itchy but does like the cool tattoos and jokes that he might get real ones soon so that he doesn’t have to come in early every morning to have them sketched on him.

• Iseul’s actor probably has an active social media account where he takes photos of his elf ears and other costume bits. He really likes the scar they gave him because it makes him look really rugged and handsome.

• MC’s actress once joked on a livestream that the reason everyone got a glo up but her and Alain is because the studio ran out of money. “Saerys and Iseul’s hair extensions cost too much.”

• The director let the actors come up with their character’s Chicago names but only August’s actor picked a good name out because “they’re supposed to sound different, damn it!”

• And there has been at least one “battle” offcamera where the actors play-fought using the fake wobbly swords with each other.