#like even if they hadn’t shown the inspiration pics I would be able to tell that it’s just two different dresses stuck together

[yourqueenb]

Oh definitely. It’s because they stayed trying to do those multi-paneled skirts and criss crossing strips of fabric on the dresses in that book as well. But it never works because of the way the MCs’ body sprites are angled. Like I’m sorry, but the outfit in this picture looks a mess to me 😪

Does this outfit just scream ACOR MC to anyone else?

[kikis-writing-world]

Pregnancy Announcement HCs

Drabbles under the cut for how Pedro boys would react to your pregnancy, and how you’d share the news. Trigger/content warnings: Pregnancy (both planned and surprise,) mention of abortions as an option, talk of contraception, smut (including cum play, cock warming,) mentions of PTSD and past drug addiction, mentions of dead former partners, blood, periods, doctors/obgyns, single parent/father not wanting to actively participate. If I missed anything, please let me know! Lack of editing as usual... 

Pics are for inspiration, not always an exact replica. All take place in a sort of modern AU where there might be a social media to post pictures to.

Dave York

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Dave already has a family and he made it very clear that he wasn’t leaving them for you. When you found out, you were terrified he would demand you terminate the pregnancy - heck, you considered it briefly yourself. You thought long and hard about your options even before telling Dave.

His first reaction was about as bad as it could get: he said nothing, got up and left. He returned a few hours later when you had already cried yourself hoarse. He held you in his arms as he spoke clearly and carefully. He asked if you wanted to keep the baby, and when he said yes he almost seemed torn. You don’t know if it was wishful thinking that he was excited to have another child, but you swore you saw a sparkle in his eye… of course, it wasn’t that simple.

He told you it wouldn’t be easy for you since he would never be with you like that - you were just the nanny he was fucking. If you wanted to go it alone, he would help financially and support you as much as he could, but he couldn’t claim the baby as his and risk losing his daughters.

You were going to have to go the single mother route, and if anyone asked you’d have to either say it was a fling or the father wasn’t interested in being in the picture.

Din Djarin

In all honesty, you were surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Din loved to cum inside of you. He’d lay with you, his softening cock still inside you to make sure nothing slipped out. When he finally did, he’d watch with amazement as your body twitched as it adjusted to emptiness. Gently, he’d push any dripping cum back into your fluttering hole. His deep, gruff voice was laced with exhaustion and lust as he would talk about filling your pretty pussy, not wasting a drop…

When you started getting ill, you at first thought it was just a passing bug. It was inevitable with all the travel that you would fall under the weather. Two weeks into the churning stomach, you realized you missed a period. 

When you brought it up to Din, he changed all travel plans - the bounties could wait, he had to get you to the nearest clinic ASAP. The test coming back positive had him glowing with pride. It was hard to convince him to wait until further along to announce the pregnancy, knowing anything could happen in these early stages. As soon as you gave him the all-clear, he did everything but shout it from the rooftops. By the time the picture was posted -your headgear, his helmet, and a tiny helmet between - everyone already knew anyway.

Ezra

It was a surprise, but not a shock. You and Ezra, although you tried to be safe, definitely had a habit of being caught up in the moment and forgetting certain precautions. A walk through the forest that led to a beautiful field of flowers, a picnic on a moonlit beach - there were times Ezra was so overwhelmed by your beauty and the beauty around him that he just got swept up. It was hard not to get swept up with him.

He was ecstatic when you told him you thought you might be pregnant. He could hardly wait for you to take a test. His knee bounced anxiously as you waited the 2 minutes, holding your hand tightly in his. The positive result brought tears to his eyes as he embraced you close but gently, already scared of hurting the baby. He saw it as nothing less than a blessing. He dropped to his knees as soon as he let you go, already talking to the bundle of cells, calling them his little shining star. The nickname sticks throughout the pregnancy, leading to a beautiful space-themed nursery and all events leading up to the birth, including the announcement.

Frankie Morales

You’re absolutely terrified to tell Frankie. You knew he wanted to be a father, but the two of you had talked so much about the fears you shared about being parents. Mental health, substance abuse, financial stability - it made the concept of “starting a family” overwhelming.

Your stomach rolled the whole time you waited for him to get home from work, little plastic test taunting you from the table. What if it set him off? He’d been sober for years, but you knew every day was a new battle. You were so consumed by your own thoughts, playing out how he might react in your head, that you didn’t even hear him come in.

“Are you…” He half-asked the question, eyes darting between you and the test. You couldn’t find your voice, only nod. The facial change in him was immediate: broad smile and wonder in his eyes as he laughed, scooping you into his arms. You clung to him just as tightly as he started laughing, too much joy coursing through him. As he started crying “holy shit, I’m going to be a papa,” how could you have possibly doubted he’d be anything but ecstatic?

You each tell your closest friends and your families, but you manage to keep it under wraps for the first months until posting your announcement and shocking everyone. Toes in the sand at the beach of your favorite camping spot, imagining the sandcastles and other games you’d be playing in the near future - it was everything you could ever want.

Jack Daniels

The two of you were religiously careful. You had talked about a family, but had agreed that until Jack was ready - which may or may not happen - you were going to prevent it. But life finds a way…

You find out much later than you would have liked - nearly 3 months in, you missed the whole first trimester. Looking back, there were obvious signs of pregnancy but you just didn’t think it was possible. You and Jack find out together at a doctor’s appointment. You leave the office shell shocked with a stack of pamphlets to consider your options and an appointment for next week. When you get home, Jack doesn’t even talk about it. You try to bring it up a few hours later, but he ignores you.

Finally, 3 days later, you can’t take it anymore. You feel like you’re in this completely alone at this point as you yell at him “ignoring it won’t make it go away!” Jack breaks down and tells you he’s so damn scared. He cries in a way you’ve never seen him cry, talking about how he wants a family with you but he can’t go through that kind of loss a second time. It nearly killed him the first time and he wouldn’t be able to handle it again. You talk long into the night about all of it - both of your fears, worries, dreams, thoughts - nothing is off limits as you talk about all the possibilities lying in front of you. Even through the fear and trauma, one thing is clear: you both want this.

It’s not easy, but your doctor helps relieve some worries. She speaks frankly to you about the development of the baby along the way and suggests a therapist that might be able to help, as well as classes you can take on parenting. It doesn’t take long for the worried “what ifs” to be paired with excited “whens.”

Javier Peña

When Javier Peña walked into your small town police station, you thought you were dreaming. Sent to help with a case that your rural forces didn’t have the experience to handle, he was only supposed to be in town as long as the case took. You never imagined you, just a lowly admin, would catch his eye.

It didn’t take long for you to tumble into the bed of his hotel room. And your bed at home. And your car. And his truck. And just about any possible surface in between. What you thought was a one night stand turned to three, then four, and soon into a full fledged fling. You knew the expiry date hanging above your heads, so you kept your feelings for the charming (if a little gruff around the edges) agent locked deep away. The case took about two months, and then he was gone just as suddenly as he arrived.

A month after his departure, when you found out you were pregnant, you didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t even left you his number, so you were sure he had no plans to see you ever again. Should you track him down and let him know, or just carry on with this on your own? You spent night after night talking to the growing baby, asking what you should do.

Javier ended up answering the question for you, when he unexpectedly walked into the station once more. He asked to speak with you privately before admitting he had missed you. He told you about trying to forget you, only to spend most of his evenings telling his father about you. Eventually you cut him off with a kiss, telling him you’re glad he came back. You take his hand, placing it on your stomach when you tell him you had been thinking about him too.

Javi helps you secure a transfer to Laredo and even though you technically have your own place, you’re spending practically every night with him anyway. If anyone wondered why the move, well the recognizable mustache on your announcement answered their questions.

Marcus Moreno

Marcus doesn’t believe you the first time you tell him “I think I’m pregnant.” He remembers his wife’s pregnancy with Missy, and you haven’t shown any of those signs. You roll your eyes and tell him that every woman and every pregnancy is different, but he still doesn't believe you. It isn’t until he’s staring down at three tests, all positive, that it clicks in his head he’s having a second child.

He’s excited, but he admits he’s scared. He’s older now, what if he can’t keep up with a baby? More than that, he’s worried about Missy.

You both know you don’t want Missy to feel left out or replaced by a new sibling. The two of you have a good relationship, but of course there were speed bumps to get there. She understood you weren’t trying to replace her mother. Would she be as understanding, knowing that you weren’t trying to replace her?

You and Marcus sit her down and tell her together. Before you can even start on your planned spiel about how the family is growing and no one is getting replaced, she is talking a mile a minute about having a little sister. You and Marcus share a relieved breath and lock eyes before you have to remind her that it might be a little brother. This seems to dampen her mood a little bit, but overall she’s still excited… even if she is adamant she isn’t touching any stinky diapers.

Another way you make sure to include her, is how you announce it to your friends and family. You’re sure, with Marcus’ status, it will get out to the public eventually, but you start by sending close friends and family a picture of Missy wearing a shirt calling her a “Big Sister.” She loves the photoshoot, making all kinds of faces as you snap away on your phone. Happy, sad, pouting, crazy… they all go in the baby book.

Marcus Pike

It was only a few months after your wedding that you and Marcus were ready to start a family. You didn’t “start trying” as much as you “stopped preventing.” There were a few false starts when your period would be late or the time you caught the stomach flu, but a few weeks short of your first wedding anniversary, you were pregnant.

Marcus spent many nights laying next to you in bed, hand on your stomach as he just stared at you - to the point where you actually started to get annoyed by it. He was amazed at your body changing, at the growing child inside of you, that he was finally getting the “happy ever after” he’d been looking for all his life.

The announcement was hilarious to shoot. Marcus and you were covered in paint splotches, laughing with love shining in your eyes. You held a palette Marcus knelt in front of you with a paintbrush, painting “Masterpiece coming soon” on your stomach where the bump had just started showing with the right angle.

Max Phillips

Max knew before you did, even if he didn’t put it all together. He started complaining that you tasted different, smelled different. Not just your blood, but as he spent hours trapped between your thighs. His keen senses had him identifying a change, but neither of you knew what change it was. After all, as far as you knew, a vampire couldn’t get a human pregnant.

Max whined when your period was late - he loved your time of the month. “Best of both worlds” he would say as he feasted on you for as long as you could stand it. It had happened before, your period being late due to stress or illness, but this time it wasn’t just a day or two. A few weeks later nothing had happened. A quick trip to your gynecologist confirmed it.

“I thought you said there was no way you could be pregnant,” she teased as she showed you the results.

Max was shocked, scared, and then proud as a pig in shit. He was terrified to be a father, but he hid that behind a swagger and a “yeah, I knocked her up. Not even death can stop these swimmers.”

Even if you did try to hide it for much longer, the vampires he worked with could smell the change in you too. Put together with Max’s protectiveness over you being ramped up even more than it had been… it was easy to figure out.

You took the picture as a joke - it was supposed to be a compromise that if you took this photo, he’d take the cheesy ones you wanted - but damn if it wasn’t your favorite of the bunch.

Maxwell Lord

You know that Maxwell had a bad history with family. First his parents weren’t as supportive as they could have been, and then his ex-wife had all but used Alistair against him anytime she could. You knew he may be nervous when you shared the news, but you didn’t expect him to turn into Maxwell Lord, television personality instead of your Max.

The first question out of his mouth was “is it mine?” Which broke your heart and set a fire in your gut. You threw anything you could get your hands on at him screaming at him for accusing you of cheating on him. You had just started to calm down when he mentioned lawyers and set you off again. You knew his past, but you truly thought he loved you and that you were his future.

You left, booking yourself in at a hotel. You didn’t leave the room - not only had you not packed anything and knew the paparazzi would devour a picture of you looking so disheveled, but you just couldn’t find it in you to go anywhere. You stayed in the room, ordering room service, watching TV, and crying. In a fit of rage, you had thrown the bottles from the mini bar across the room, needing to channel your anger and knowing you couldn’t drink your sorrows away anyway. 

He showed up a few days later, having followed the credit card charges to the hotel, looking remorseful. He apologized for the way he reacted, and you heard him out despite still being upset. There was a long talk in which you reminded him that you’re not his ex or his mother. You’re not trying to screw him over or get anything from him by having his child. It takes him a long time and a lot of groveling for you to truly forgive him, but you go back home that night.

A few months later, as the two of you take a picture on his yacht, both of your hands holding your growing bump, you can hardly tell the fight had happened at all.

Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand

Ellaria noticed before you did. A mother herself, she picked up on the glow in your skin, the change in your body, and the complaining about aches in your back or your breasts. When she pulled you aside and suggested you were pregnant, all you could do was blink. The three of you didn’t use protection with each other, only when others were invited into your bed. You’d never gone out of your way to prevent pregnancy, so while it shouldn’t have been shocking, it still caught you off guard. Ellaria brought you to her doctor, sitting with you while you found out for sure.

You were nothing but excited to share your news with Oberyn. You knew how he felt about you, about love and passion, about the children he already had. You had no doubt that he would love your child just as much as the rest of his daughters. The night you told him was spent making love while he waxed poetic about you, your body, your child... If you hadn’t already been pregnant, you’re sure you would have been at the end of the night.

With sand snakes spread across Dorne, you struggled for a way to tell them all. Sending letters didn’t seem to do the moment justice. This may be Oberyn’s 9th child, but it was your first and you wanted an extravagant way to share the news. 

Ellaria helped you to plan gathering all the children together. It wasn’t easy, but a month and a half after finding out, you had the whole, huge family together. You posed them all for a picture with you, Oberyn and Ellaria front and centre. You were handed a sign to hold for the picture - supposedly showing the family crest. However as soon as the picture was taken, you turned to show them.

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl​ ​ @din-damn-djarin​​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @kesskirata​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @dihra-vesa​  @vonschweetz​ ​ @insideafictionaluniverse​​ @driedgreentomatoes​​ @computeringturtle​​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @thottiewinemom​ @mrschiltoncat​ @anaaaispunk​

[mybiasisexo]

Ring the Alarm

Genre: Angst | Marriage!au

Pairing: Lay x Reader

Length: 4.4k

Warning: Language | Adult Themes | Infidelity 

Summary: Nobody said marriage was easy--and your marriage with Zhang Yixing is proving that. When you find out about his indiscretions, you have two options--leaving him is easy, but can you leave the life you both made together? Based off the song Ring the Alarm by Beyoncé

Author’s Note: This one... This one is definitely a WIP. Something I’ve discarded but will be coming back to and finishing. I love this plot, but I know a lot of people aren’t going to agree the the ending I have in mind. Listen to the song, okay? That’s what I’m basing it off of *shrugs*. Also, I drew heavy inspiration from the movie Girl’s Trip,

MASTERLIST

credit

Marriage was never easy. It took commitment, honesty, trust, and a lot of sacrifice. 

You were always aware of this.

Once you reached the age to truly understand, you watched the weight of marriage burden your mother and your mother’s mother. Understood that the title, Wife, was a job, an occupation that carried on all of your life.

Yet, that never stopped you from saying yes.

Never stopped you from allowing that magnificently shiny ring to slide upon the third finger on your left hand, shimmering with the promise of forever.

Maybe, you assumed it would be different—your marriage. Maybe you were too young and naïve, believing that your love was stronger than those before you. That your love was based on something so magical it could withstand all of life’s trails and tribulations.

You were wrong, of course. But at the time, it hadn’t seemed so bad; especially when it was Zhang Yixing you were promising to share your life with.

Zhang Yixing was a rising mogul. He had started his own music label and it had blown up, skyrocketing the pair of you into high-class fame.

Through out it all, you had been by his side. From the time he was making beats in his basement, to the moment he won his first award.

You were the one who provided a roof over his head when he was solely focused on the music. The one who supported him financially when he didn’t have a dime to his name. The one who provided words of strength and courage when he was losing faith in himself. It was you who singlehandedly carried him to the top, allowing him to wear the crown as long as you were able to be by his side.

Because that was what love was.

But love was quickly overshadowed by greed. You both became too preoccupied scrambling to the top of the totem pole to remember why you had began climbing in the first place. The contracts you both signed with love soon became a business contract, you two only partners professionally.

Money had a certain power that overtook everything, and money was something that Yixing had a lot of—that the both of you had a lot of.

That’s no excuse though. No valuable reason for your husband of nearly six years to be cheating on you.

~*~

Once a week, you meet you with your closest friends, Seulgi and Irene, for lunch. Today you decide to eat at an upscale restaurant in downtown. You have known the two since high school and they have been your biggest supporters in life.

“How have you been?” Seulgi asks after you all have ordered, stretching her hand across the table to place it over your own, giving it a comforting squeeze. You smile softly at her, knowing full and well that she has caught on to the fact you’ve been hiding something that’s troubling you. She has always been extremely sensitive to other’s emotions, allowing her to read anyone like a book. It is what makes her such an amazing psychologist.

She also knows not to pry. A major rule of yours is that your marriage—like all marriages should be—is between your husband and yourself. You refuse to share the nitty gritty details of your relationship, even to your best friends.

“Surviving,” you reply simply, taking a sip of your hot tea. 

The answer is telling. Both women share a quick concerned glance. Before they can inquire further, the food arrives and conversation is shifted to lighter subjects: updates in your lives since the last get together.

About halfway into the meal, Irene receives a message on her phone. She glances down distractedly before doing a double take, her eyes widening from shock as she stares at her screen.

“What is it?” Seulgi asks curiously. You find yourself leaning forward in an attempt to catch a glimpse at what shook her, but she swiftly snatches the device so that only she can view the screen. Her eyes flicker over to you and an odd sense of foreboding dread causes your stomach to drop.

“I just got some pap pics….” She starts slowly, eyes drifting back to you warningly. “Brace yourself.”

“Why would I have to…?” She hands you the phone and you blink a few times, not fully comprehending what you’re being shown. Squinting, you enlarge the image, zooming in to clarify that the man in the picture is indeed your husband.

Making out with another woman.

There’s four pictures in total. The two are apparently at some club. The woman—who’s back is conveniently facing the camera—is sitting on Yixing’s lap. His hands get lower and lower with each picture until they land solidly on her ass.

You sit the phone down and close your eyes, breathing through your nose as you rub your temples in frustration.

Careless. Selfish.

“I…am so sorry,” Seulgi murmurs. Tears can be heard in her voice, your pain being felt by her.

Irene is a bit different though.

“So, what are you going to do?”

Irene is the hard ass. The realist. She doesn’t believe in playing games, always cutting through the bullshit to get right to the point.

She would have made an amazing lawyer.

But instead, she gave her talent to a gossip magazine. It pays just as well with less the paper work and she is brilliant at it. Irene is always on top of the newest celebrity drama. She has a wide variety of connections—yourself being one of them—and isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty to uncover the truth. She is so good at her job that sometimes celebrities willingly give her information, because having an article written about you from her is how you know you made it in this cutthroat industry. 

That is how she got the pictures. She has personal paparazzi that do most of the digging for her. Yixing is one of the most famous Chinese men in South Korea, so it makes sense to you that if they had spotted him doing something sketchy—because the world is aware of your marriage—they would capture it and send the proof to their boss immediately. 

Sighing, you lean back against your chair, staring out the window that reveals a beautiful sunny day, a day too lovely to have to deal with this bullshit.

“I can’t believe he would do this to you,” Irene rages on, fury spilling out of her. She has the most disdain for Yixing. Ever since you first met him, she was always telling you how he was bad news, a no good low life that would only bring you down with him. 

At this moment, you wish you had listened to her.

“This is just horrible.” You play with your wedding ring as Seulgi continues. “After all you’ve done for him, he does this in return.” 

“You’re going to leave him, right? I mean, the man is cheating on you—”

“I KNOW!” You finally snap loudly, instantly shutting your friends up. In a much quieter tone, to not draw attention, you add, “I’ve known for a while.”

“You… already knew?” Seulgi clarifies. Realization dawns on her and she shakes her head in disbelief. “You already knew.”

“For how long?” Irene presses, her anger tripling and you’re glad that, at this moment, she is your friend, and not a journalist. She has to have realized that she stumbled across gold with these pictures. She holds enough evidence to ruin your martial image and make herself richer beyond her dreams. “How long has he been hurting you like this while you just allowed it to continue?”

“It’s not that simple,” you defend yourself quickly. “You know our entire career is based on our marriage….”

“Do you at least know who she is?” Seulgi asks.

“His secretary.” You sneer. “The cliché bastard is fucking his secretary.” Your hands tremble as a wave of emotions hit you like a tsunami. They come so rapidly, you can barely register them all: hatred, disdain, anger, embarrassment, betrayal—you don’t think you’ve ever felt so much at once.

“These pictures were taken by my people,” Irene begins quietly. “I just asked and they are positive they were the only ones there, but if I don’t do anything with them, they’ll sell them to another source who will. You know this.”

The severity of her words hit you full force, knocking the breath out of you.

She leans over the table, making sure to look you dead in your eyes. “I need to know. Do you still love him?”

Her question throws you off. Do you love Yixing? You assume there was once a time when you truly did. You gave up everything to be with him. Gave up your dreams to help him reach his own. Took his last name as your own, giving your life to him. No one does any of that without love being involved, blinding them from making any rational decisions.

But that was a long time ago.

You are in love with a different Zhang Yixing. One who fought for what he cared about, and cared deeply about a lot of things. Loved deeply.

The man you are tied to now is nothing more than a mere shadow of the one you fell in love with.

Knowing this, your stare remains fixed, unwavering as you answer truthfully. “No.”

She takes a deep breath, nodding to herself as she leans back. “I can stall, but not for too long. If you really don’t want to leave him, and I understand why, you at least have to talk to him. Let him know what his actions are about to unleash, because once this hits the press, you will know no peace. It’s going to get a lot tougher for you. You’ll have to fight harder than you ever have.”

It isn’t until Seulgi slides into the seat right beside you and rubs your face do you realize you’ve been silently crying. Your breath shudders as you inhale and give into being weak for a moment, sliding your arms around Seulgi’s waist and leaning into her in a tight embrace.

“Can you send those to me?” You ask Irene, who nods before doing as you request.

“What will you do now?” She asks after your phone lights up with her notification.

“Confront him,” you say without hesitation. This conversation is long overdue. “Let him know how much of a bastard he is.”

“Then…?” She presses, an eyebrow raised.

“Then I guess we’ll see.”

~*~

The car rolls to a stop in front of Zhang Studios and you sigh as you gaze up at the building. It isn’t an over the top skyscraper, but it stands strong of wealth. The concrete building hovering over you fills you with nostalgia. You both worked so damned hard to get this place and now he’s using it against you.

His office is on the top floor. It is made for a boss, what with it’s icy glass doors and floor to ceiling windows that overlook downtown. On his desk, beside his nameplate, sits a picture of you both from your honeymoon, smiles huge and eyes locked, still utterly drunk in love.

The look in your eyes in that picture is the complete opposite of what is churning in them now. Ignoring his secretary’s protests, you swing the door open in time to catch Yixing bid farewell to the three other men in lavish suits that are also in the room. It appears you entered at the end of a meeting.

One of the men is a friend: Kim Jongin, and as they all turn around to see who entered, he smiles dazzling at you. He approaches you, taking your hand and kissing it.

“it’s so nice to see you.” He greets.

“You too, Jongin. It’s been a while.”

“That it has, but I’m looking forward to your anniversary dinner. I’m sure it’ll live up to the expectations”

You internally wince at the reminder. A date you should look forward to, only fills you with dread.

“Have the Zhang’s ever disappointed?” You ask with a wink.

The rest of the men bow in farewell before heading out after Jongin. You make sure to lock the door behind them so that Miss. Becky can’t attempt to interrupt.

Slowly, you approach Yixing as he unbuttons his jacket and takes a seat. Your heels clack loudly against the tile floor, empowering you with every step.

“My dear,” he begins quietly and you nearly sneer at the pet name. “What brings you here unannounced?”

Without saying a word, you plop the manila folder holding his incriminating pictures on his desk before him. He raises an eyebrow questioningly before humoring you and pulling them out. His jaw tightens as he scans the images and you catch it. It’s only a second, if you hadn’t been studying him so hard you would have missed the shock that pinched his face.

After a moment of silence, he sighs, tossing the folder back on his desk in defeat. His eyes scan his luxurious office before finally meeting yours.

“I guess apologies are in order.”

“Save it,” you spit. Your arms tremble with the anger flowing through your veins and it takes everything in you not to get physical. “You careless bastard.”

“I deserve that,” he says quietly. “Where did you get those?”

You scoff. “Does that really matter right now? That’s you, my husband, making out with someone who sure as hell isn’t me, just days before our anniversary. You selfish asshole!”

Your words are biting. He rests his elbows on his desk, his head on his balled up hands. “What can I do to fix this?”

You walk up opposite him, placing your palms solidly on the desk as you loom over him with narrow eyes. “Get rid of her. I don’t care how. I want her gone.”

He groans your name in protest, sinking back into his chair.

Left flabbergasted by his response to your request, you straighten up. He takes you in with slightly wide eyes as you laugh bitterly. “You know what? Never mind.”

Turning on your heels, you make your way to the door before spinning around to face him again. “What are we doing, Yixing? Huh? We both know this sure as hell isn’t a marriage, but we agreed to at least be a partnership! Yet you can’t hold up your end of the bargain, let alone your pants! All you ever care about nowadays is your company and yourself!”

“Come on now, you know that’s not true.” Yixing rises from his chair and walks over to you, but each step he takes forward, you take one back until your back collides with the door. Cornered, Yixing reaches up to cup your shoulders, rubbing them soothingly. “Hey, look at me. I’m sorry, okay? You’re right. We agreed to at least be partners and I’ve failed you. I’ll get rid of Seungwan, all right?”

Hearing her name makes your heart pang. You glare at him. “You promise?”

“Consider it done.”

“There’s also the pictures….”

“We’ll discuss that later. But we have to be stronger than ever at the dinner. Be more of a team.”

“I’ve always been a team player, Yixing, you know that.”

His smile is sad. “All the same.”

Tired of arguing, you merely sigh, resting your head against the cold door while closing your eyes. “Thank you.”

Suddenly, Yixing’s warm breath can be felt against your neck. Eyes springing open to see him leaning closer to kiss you, whether it is your cheek or lips, you aren’t sure, blocking your vision. The thought of him touching you in any way makes bile crawl up your throat, so before he makes contact, you unlock and open the door in one swift motion, sliding out before he can touch you.

~*~

The anniversary dinner is four days later.

The last couple days are nerve racking. Having to make the final details to the party with those haunting pictures hanging over your head has you stressed to the point where you can’t eat. The leading cause of your stress—your husband—has been the polar opposite of you. His nonchalant behavior isn’t reassuring in the slightest, although he promised repeatedly that his mistress, Son Seungwan, had been let go and he had zero contact with her since. You want to believe him, at least the last part, but your trust is completely gone.

Unfortunately, you will have to put a little faith in him tonight. The party will be held at your shared mansion to show your solidarity. You are not just celebrating six years of marriage, but also the birth of your baby—Zhang Studios. Your home will be filled with important people, and their testimonies from tonight will help you once your story breaks out, which will be in a matter of time.

The day of is spent making sure everything is perfect, not a speck of dust is lingering in the air. Yixing is gone most of the day, taking care of some things at work. He trudges in around six, much to your dismay.

Guests start filing in around seven, greeted by the happy couple.

Irene and Seulgi arrive together and rip you away from your husband. You catch him frown as he watches you rush down the hall, he is just as much not a fan of the duo as they are of him.

You pull them into a deserted hallway for some privacy, hugging them briefly in greeting before getting to the point.

“Any updates?” You ask Irene.

“The pictures have been bought and will be released in the next couple days. The article, from what I’ve heard, will make Lay out to be a money hungry sex-crazed monster, painting you as a helpless victim. It’ll be perfect for whatever you decide. You leave him; you’re freeing yourself from a wicked man. Forgive him and you’re a saint.”

You’re pleased with either outcome of the situation, although it means you have only a couple days to decide what you want to do. Lay is Yixing’s celebrity name, the name the world knows him as. It is unlucky Lay is going to be ruined by Yixing’s careless actions.

“Alright. Thank you girls for coming. I need all the support I can get tonight.”

“I would say ‘happy anniversary’,” Seulgi begins. “But I don’t think you’re too happy right now.”

Her comment brings out a smile, albeit small, and she pulls you into a side hug, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “You look sexy as hell though.”

That draws out a genuine laugh.

You soon reunite with Yixing in time to welcome more people.

Once everyone has arrived, you all settle around the dining room table that is big enough to sit all of your close family, employers, and celebrity friends. Yixing and yourself placed at the center of one of the long sides, agreeing that the closer you are the more in love you’d appear. You try to maintain your warm façade, but you can feel it slipping with every conversation you find yourself getting dragged into. You consider yourself quite the actress, you’ve been pretending to be happy in a marriage for years now, yet you don’t know how long you can keep this up, what with Yixing’s hand practically glued to your knee, a hand that has been tainted by the other women he touched—who knows how many he has been with, though you have a feeling Seungwan wasn’t the only one. 

You push the thought out of your mind, instead focusing on the food that starts to be brought out from the kitchen. The smell draws out noises of delight from the guests and you’re relieved and proud of the response.

The atmosphere is pleasant as everyone dives in but it only takes a few minutes for everything to crash. Yixing suddenly begins coughing on his wine, startling everyone and gaining their attention. You pat his back in concern as he attempts to clear his throat, teary eyes narrowing on something ahead of himself.

Trepidation drips down the back of your neck as you follow his line of sight, zoning in on a beautiful girl in a soft red gown that hugs her comfortably. Her long wavy ashy brown hair cascades down her back from a low ponytail and her thin burgundy red lips lift smugly as she watches the way Yixing reacts to her presence.

Slowly, you drop your hand from the man beside you, letting it fall limply to your side as you glare at the woman who should not be here.

The nerve.

Yixing catches his bearings, but he can honestly choke for all you care. His shock at seeing his mistress consumes him to the point he doesn’t even register the attention he has garnered to the situation. The silence causes your ears to ring as Son Seungwan struts to the best of her abilities to one of the last empty chairs.

“Sorry I’m late,” she apologizes, not sounding sorry in the slightest. 

Trying your hardest to seem unaffected, you toss your napkin on the plate in front of you and lean over to your husband as you rise off your seat to stand. “Lay, a word.”

He follows silently, bowing towards your guests apologetically as he follows you to the closest room to get some privacy. Once inside, you scan it to realize you chose his home office, which is fitting, because you have business to handle.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” You ask as soon as the door shuts, spinning on him.

He sighs, running his fingers roughly through his hair. “I don’t know—”

“I told you to handle this!”

“I did—”

“Does her waltzing in here like she picked out the wallpaper in the dining room look handled, Yixing? Huh?”

“I don’t know why she is here! I didn’t invite her!” Yixing counters, voice rising to match your own.

“Well I sure as shit didn’t invite her!” You run up to him and lower your voice. “I want her out of my house. Now!”

He sighs again. “We can’t do that. Not without causing a scene. She’s obviously bitter about how things ended between us. This is probably payback.”

There’s a brief silence as you put together his words. Finally, you think of something. “If she’s not leaving now, we’ll just have to speed things along.”

His face pinches in confusion. “How?”

“By doing our speech! The one we need once we’re asked for statements. God, must I do all the thinking around here?”

With that, you shove him aside to get to the door, but he quickly blocks it with his body, causing you to nearly collide. His chest heaves as he spreads his arms out, leaving you with no exit.

Cornering you, he uses it to his advantage and in a small voice says, “you have every right to be angry at me. I’m sor—”

“Move,” you order through gritted teeth. A staring battle soon commences, him going all out, giving you those wounded puppy eyes that you’ve always fallen for time and time again. the longer he gazes at you the harder you begin to tremble from emotion. You are so close to breaking, so close to losing your sanity. Not being able to handle it for much longer, you whisper, “please.” 

It’s not the response he’s hoping to receive, but he knows that’s all he’s going to get. So, he throws you a small smile before opening the door for you.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you inform, hoping he can’t hear the tears in your voice. “I’ll meet you back there.”

You check him long enough to see him nod and turn down the opposite end of the hall, towards the bathroom. As you reach for the knob, it twists and the door opens on it’s own, revealing the one person you have no intention of interacting with.

Son Seungwan.

She appears just as taken aback as you, but catches herself quickly, throwing you a mocking smile.

“Quite the party you have here.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” you say politely.

“I never said that,” Seungwan clarifies, eyes wandering over the hall. Irritation pricks at you, but you restrain it as best as you can, all things considered. “What I am enjoying though is this home. It is so beautiful. I bet you spent millions on it.”

“Something like that,” you reply.

“Well, I’ll tell you, it’ll look even grander once I start my home renovating.”

“I beg your pardon?” Is this girl crazy?

She finally meets your gaze. “Oh, Lay didn’t tell you?”

“Just get to the point,” you sigh, truly exhausted by everything that’s happened in the past twenty minutes. Crossing your arms over your chest, you wait for her response.

“He promised me a lot of things, you know? Promised to whisk me away, promised that I was the only one in his heart, that he didn’t feel anything towards you anymore and that he was going to divorce you so that he could be with me.”

You raise an eyebrow at her statement. So maybe he liked this one a little more than you were giving him credit for. Unfortunately for her, you know your husband too well.

Leaning in a bit more you look her dead in her eyes. “Take this from somebody who has been with Lay a bit longer. He loves to make promises just so he can break them. That’s how he operates, Dear. He whispered all those sweet nothings in the midst of ecstasy because he had something to gain from it, but all those words were just that—nothing. And, ironically, so are you. But, by all means, keep telling yourself that Lay is in love with you, because if he truly were, he’d be with you now, instead of celebrating his marriage to another woman.”

You can see her eyes gloss over with tears. Your words sting, but she has to know. A feeling of pity hits you as she sniffs and quickly brushs a tear that slipped away. For a brief moment, you see yourself in her, understand exactly what she’s going through.

It vanishes when she snarls. “You’re wrong.”

“And you’re delusional.” You’re quick to snap back, patience gone entirely. 

“At least I’m not the only one.”

You crack a smile at that. “Oh, Honey. I am fully aware of the predicament I’m in. I know who Yixing is, and where we stand. But I’ll humor you, say he really did mean all those things.”

You lean in until your noses touch and whisper, “you’ll have to pry all of those things from my cold dead hands.”

You storm off, back to the dining room, joining a visibly uncomfortable Yixing. The relief is evident as you sit beside him

[mithranqueersmusings]

Before This Dance Is Through V

Chapter: 5/16

Rating: M (Smut Warning)

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Despite what John had suggested, Ringo didn't go back to The Helter Skelter the following week; he'd considered it when John sent him yet another late night text but ultimately decided it wasn't the best idea. Spike had been playing on his mind daily and Ringo wasn't sure he was prepared to face him again. Instead he focused on his drumming and searched for a few more students to teach, which were fairly easy to find. Usually Ringo enjoyed his time off, he understood he was lucky that he didn't have to work a 9-5 job just to get by, but recently he wanted his fill his time up as much as possible, to distract himself.

One of his new students seemed incredibly interested in him, they'd spent an hour just chatting in his living room before they'd even moved over to the drum kit. Ringo wasn't too fussed, he was getting paid by the hour so wasting time was beneficial to him but he didn't want to give the guy the wrong impression. He was a little bit older and attractive enough but Ringo simply wasn't interested.

"Why didn't you just go for it?" John had asked him when they next met up.

"I dunno..." Ringo mumbled, but a part of him knew very well.

He'd given the guy another lesson since then and it became clear that the guy's interest in him wasn't going away any time soon. Ringo felt bad about the whole thing, wasn't he just doing exactly what Spike was doing to him? He tried to act as professional as possible the second time around in attempt to get the guy to back off, considering he hadn't heard from him since he was hoping it had worked. What was wrong with him? Was he really going to make himself suffer like this all because of one guy? And not just any guy, a stripper who had shown absolutely no interest in him at all. It was ridiculous, he kept telling himself, but no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he had to get over Spike, he would still think about him every day without fail. Trying to distract himself with clients had been working somewhat, but it had been difficult, especially when his best friend was John Lennon.

       youre gonna love me

The text came through when Ringo was sat in a café getting some lunch. He'd finished with one of his younger students, a sweet girl who's parents had tried to convince her to try a more 'ladylike' instrument but she had promised only to give up the drums if she was awful; much to her delight, and Ringo's for being able to prove the stereotypical parents wrong, she was pretty good. Seeing her always put Ringo in a good mood, the parents mostly stayed away partly due to the noise but mostly due to disappointment, which meant they could joke around together. Ringo could tell she admired him and he welcomed it gladly, one of the best things about teaching was inspiring others, at least for him it was.

        do i not already?

        well yes         but youre gonna love me EVEN more

        what have you done

        well i happened to stop by the club last night

        oh god what did you do

        wow is that how little you trust me

        can you blame me

        suppose not         ANYWAY i got talking to paulie

        surprise surprise

        do you want the good news or not???

        fine fine sorry

        AS I WAS SAYING i was talking to paulie         and he told me that your special little someone has an onlyfans account

        first of all fuck you for calling him that         second of all wtf is onlyfans

        oh sorry i didnt realise you werent living in the 21st century

        ......         care to grace me with your knowledge?

        basically its a website where you can post exclusive stuff for ONLY FANS to see         its not a porn site or anything but its basically where people sell their nudes         MEANING spike has an account so you can totally see loads of raunchy filthy perverted pics of him

        but i have to pay?

        well weve all gotta make a living

        i can basically see him naked for free

        but this way you wont get all freaked out and embarrassed         well you will but nobody will know at least         so do you want the link or not???

Ringo paused for a few moments, he was gripping his phone tightly in both of his hands as he unblinkingly looked at John's words. If his mind was going to decide to make him suffer by enabling his intense interest in Spike, he may as well get something out of it.

        fine

        where are your manners richard??

        can i please have the link to the strippers nude photos please john please

        alright calm down         let me know if its worth while i might have a look

        idk if im even gonna look at it         paying for porn is a little dated

        treat yourself ringo         id offer to pay but im broke

        if youre broke why were you at the strip club last night?

        well SOMEONE had to go

        they really didnt

        im supporting my local economy

        i dont think thats how that works

        sure it is         anyway here you go

Ringo stared at the link for a while, his eyes even began to blur, he didn't want to risk opening it in public even though he knew there was little chance of anyone seeing. He finished his lunch in a hurry and headed home quickly, only when he was in the privacy of his bedroom did he dare open it. First he had to make an account, when he saw the screen loading up asking for an email address and password he just turned his screen off and put the phone down. This was far too much effort for something he shouldn't really have been doing in the first place. But it only took a few minutes for him to pick the phone back up and begin signing up, he used an old email as it felt less seedy that way and he didn't want to risk his name cropping up anywhere for Spike to see. Now he could load up the link properly and take a proper look at Spike's profile.

Just looking at the small profile picture was enough to startle Ringo a little, the dark eyes looking into the camera with that unreadable glimmer behind them. He was shirtless in the picture, Ringo wondered why that didn't catch his attention first, with the frame cutting off just before it showed anything too explicit. The header was a photo taken from the club, showing him in tight, leather pants and tassels on his nipples which matched the whip he held in his hand. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He'd spent so much time and effort trying not to think about this man, attempting to keep him out of his mind as much as possible. Ringo knew that if he went through with this all that progress would be lost, he'd be giving in to whatever strange obsession he'd developed for Spike, one that no doubt wasn't going to lead to anything good.

Ringo kept staring at the screen as though it was going to tell him what he should do. Spike's profile had no description, which wasn't very surprising, and it dashed any hope Ringo had of discovering something new about him. Right before he was about to put his phone down again, it vibrated.

        howd the wank go??

        john i dont care how long weve been friends asking how my wank was will always be weird

        youre right sorry         so how did it go???

        if you must know         i havent had a wank         i havent even paid for entry

        now whos the one being inappropriate??

        ha ha

        why havent you???

        feels weird

        oh i see         youll consume a bunch of unethical porn for free but god forbid you actually give sex workers any actual money

        you are the last person who can lecture me about unethical porn

        hey now watch yourself         ringo if you dont get a subscription I WILL

        go ahead

        and ill tell you every day what sexy sexy pictures hes posting         ill tell you EVERY SINGLE TIME i have a wank over them

        every time? i dont think youve got enough data for that

        im not joking

        neither am i         you wank A LOT

        ringooooo just buy it i swear to god         if its not worth it or you regret it or whatever ill give you the money back

        on top of the money you already owe me?

        have you always been such a capitalist

        youre not doing a very good job of convincing me

        fine         spikes cock         now are you convinced???

        maybe

        naked pictures of spike whenever and wherever you want them all for the low low price of 10 quid a month         convinced??

        fine fine         if itll shut you up

        im starting to think thats code for 'i really wanna do this but im too embarrassed to admit it'

        i hate you

        now that DEFINITELY code for 'john youre right'         anyway theres no time to be telling me how right i am all the time youve got dick pics to look at         even i wont stand in the way of a good wank         so dont bother replying to me until youve paid for that subscription young man

        im older than you

        DONT BOTHER REPLYING

Ringo let out a sigh and rested his head against the bedroom wall from where he was laying on the bed. He opened up the link again and his thumb hovered over the subscription button, why couldn't he just do it? The money wasn't an issue, it could've cost half as much or be double the price and he'd still be debating it all the same. Somehow it felt like an invasion of privacy, after all Spike hadn't told Ringo about it himself, but then again that didn't necessarily mean he didn't want Ringo to see it. After all it was like John said: everyone has to make a living somehow. Sometimes Ringo wished he could turn off that part of his brain that was so empathetic, so concerned about how everyone felt and what they were thinking. He knew that he wanted this, so why wasn't he allowing himself to have it? Ringo could see that he was being ridiculous, as he was with almost anything involving Spike, and after lying there for a while pondering and debating he decided to flip a coin. Heads would mean he got the subscription, tails that he didn't. He watched the coin spinning through the air after he flicked it upwards, then snatched it and slammed it down onto his forearm before slowly moving his hand away: it was tails. What a relief. Ringo chuckled to himself for being so foolish, settling down into his bed; it was still only around midday but he didn't have anywhere he needed to be.

So why didn't he feel relieved in the slightest?

This whole thing was getting tiring, the constant debate between what he believed he should do and what he wanted to do, and it seemed like it wasn't going to be ending anytime soon. Apparently he was in this for the long run, whatever that meant, but if he was going to turn down relatively attractive guys practically throwing themselves at him, he may as well go all the way. While he was putting in his credit card information, he stopped to think around three of four times, but once he'd finished and the images became accessible to him, his brain was barely able to conjure up a coherent sentence.

"Jesus..." Ringo breathed out as his eyes flicked across the plethora of pictures loading up on his screen.

There was a lot of them, and a lot of Spike was on display. Most of them were pictures taken at the club, either from a professional photographer in the audience or photos he'd taken himself in the mirrors backstage - Ringo could even see glimpses of Paul in the background of some of them. The ones that caught Ringo's eyes the most were those that seemed to be taken in his house, these also happened to be the ones in which Spike tended to be fully naked. It was very different experience to see him like this: a static image that he'd intentionally taken of himself and posted for so many people to see, an image that couldn't look back at Ringo and make him feel that strange mixture of excitement and shame. He began scrolling down the feed which only revealed more and more enticing photos. Ringo began to feel himself hardening, he suspected it had been happening for a while now but he'd been far too distracted to notice. He felt like a teenager discovering porn for the first time, it was difficult to remind himself that this wasn't anything new. Seeing Spike naked shouldn't have excited him so much, and yet it did.

One picture in particular drew Ringo's attention: Spike was stood in front of a bathroom mirror with a loose black tie lying against his bare chest, one hand was holding a phone and the other gripping his cock. He had dark eye make up on and his hair was messy. Ringo wasn't sure exactly what it was about this photo that was so enticing but he couldn't take his eyes off it. The prominence of his collarbones, the faint curls of his dark hair, how his slim fingers wrapped around himself. Slowly Ringo slid his own hand under the waistband of his boxers as he stared at the picture. At first he hesitated, his fingers stopped right above the base. It's not like this would've been the first time he'd touched himself while thinking about Spike, it would've been far from the last he imagined, but this was different. It was more concrete, more of an admission. Nothing felt quite as real when it's only being imagined, the haziness of lust fuzzing up the mind as it so often did, but now with a very real photo of Spike in front of him - which he'd paid to see - the feeling was far more tangible, far harder to ignore.

He'd come this far, he told himself as his hand sunk lower until his fingers were running along the length of his semi-hard cock, he may as well go all the way. To begin with Ringo stayed looking at this single picture as he slowly pumped himself, but as his lust began to grow he perused through more and more pictures: Spike kneeling naked in front of a mirror with a loose cigarette hanging from his lips, lying in the bath with bubbles only just about covering his nakedness, spread out on the bed with a gag in his mouth, handcuffs forcing his slim arms behind his back with his cock throbbing. None of this was anything Ringo hadn't seen before, like most people in this day and age he'd searched through the darker corners of the internet - sometimes willingly, sometimes John was to blame - but to see Spike in such a way was like an entirely new rush. Each picture drove Ringo further and further on, at times he almost dropped his phone with how sloppy his movements were becoming. Who took these photos? Ringo figured it was best not to think about it, the possibility that Spike had a boyfriend who took all these pictures of him would've been the quickest way to kill his erection.

Ringo began moaning and cursing wantonly as he got closer and closer to his orgasm, he had to stop flicking through the pictures because he could hardly concentrate on what his other hand was doing, so he settled on a final one to help him finish; it wasn't particularly strategic but he was definitely grateful that he selected the one that he did. In it Spike was looking directly into the camera, allowing Ringo to gaze longingly into the rich brown of his eyes and how his dark lashes curled beautifully around them. He was shirtless with nothing but a necklace on, the same necklace that Ringo had seen him wearing in the record store and Ringo couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction that he'd seen it with his own eyes, as though it meant something. Deep down he knew that it didn't but his inebriated mind was latching onto it. The nudity in the photo was hardly interesting Ringo by this point, although it would be wrong to say that he completely ignored the flatness of his stomach or the faint shadows of his ribs beneath his pale skin, it was the personal aspect which truly affected him.

This wasn't just lust. Lust Ringo could understand, he could compartmentalise it and give into it without much shame or a second thought. If this was just lust, he would've bought the subscription without a care and touched himself looking at the nakedness of Spike's body as though it meant nothing more than a way to get off. Yet here he was on the brink of orgasm looking into another man's eyes, eyes that felt like they were looking straight back at him as though they were sharing this moment together. It wasn't hard to imagine Spike's hand in place of his own, those deep eyes watching Ringo come undone piece by piece. Ringo's hip began to stutter, his leg twitching a little as he had to drop the phone down onto his lap as his head fell back against his pillow as his orgasm approached. It wasn't the image of Spike's naked body that filled Ringo's mind as he came, it wasn't his arse or his cock or even his chest, it was his face, his voice, it was him.

Ringo lay breathless on his bed for a while, the clarity that arrived as his orgasm subsided wasn't welcome in the slightest and he was reluctant to pick his phone back up to see Spike's eyes looking at him once again. There was no use in feeling ashamed about it, no point in trying to deny it any longer: his feelings for Spike were more than a mere passing fancy, that was clear. Exactly what he was meant to do about these feelings was far from clear but that wasn't something Ringo could figure out right now with cum on his stomach and the daylight seeping through his bedroom curtains.

When he'd picked up his phone he'd closed all the apps immediately, doing his best not to catch a glimpse of what he'd been so eagerly looking at before. Just as he was about to step into the shower to clean himself off, his phone buzzed; he almost couldn't hear it over the music he was blasting out. It alerted him for a moment as though it was going to be a message from Spike stating he knew exactly what Ringo had just done - it wouldn't have really surprised him had that been the case, Spike's face almost always looked like he knew something that nobody else did - but fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was John.

        sooo how did the wank go

         who knows          but on a totally unrelated note im about to get into the shower

         well before you do that i have even more good news 

         can it not wait?

         NO because you might cum just at the thought of it and then youd be wasting a good shower

         well arent you considerate          and unnecessarily graphic

         thats me          anyway im taking you to the club next tuesday whether you like it or not

         im still waiting for the good news

         well if youd let me FINISH          next week theyre doing a special event and we just have to go          youll never guess what it is

         what is it?

         guess

         you just said ill never guess

         youre no fun

         WHAT IS IT

         alright alright keep your hair on          its a crossdressing event          high heels make up probably a few wigs all that good stuff

         im still waiting for the good news

         OH COME ON youre telling me you dont want to see spike in heels and fishnets with some lovely lipstick on

Ringo gulped. It wasn't a difficult image to conjure up his mind, considering he'd been staring at photos of Spike for the past twenty minutes and it excited him to say the least. He did want to see that, very much indeed.

[artangel3993]

this is pt 2 of this drabble and it wont rlly make sense w/o it!  time 4 violet. cw for i mean general fuckery that is conditionally present in the box boy universe, contracts n ownership discussed, also mention of drugs

the inspiration for the setting of the underground military bunker turned psychedelic warehouse is from a real case that was i think still the largest lsd bust in the 2000s which is neat. drug history! that link has pics of the actual bunker too and im p sure vice also did a documentary on it, its a really interesting case! anyways i just want to get to bunker time so i can introduce poppy bc i love her. 

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Safiya could not, for the life of her, figure out what the fuck was wrong with this algorithm. She kept running it through her IDE over and over, checked all the spellings of the variables, and it still wouldn’t run the way she needed it to, or be a functional block of code in any way, intended or not (she got that sometimes, when a program would run but it would do something completely fucking different than her intentions.) She dragged her hands down her eyes, and took another long sip of her energy drink. She hadn’t slept in two days and she was still behind on her end of the code for her company’s new game- which fucking sucked, but at the same time, Saf liked the challenge, the conflict. Having something to do. Vi left her with enough money that she’d never have to work a day in her life again and still be fine, but she was good at game development- well. Not right now, but in general. Right now, she was about to ring whoever invented C++ by the neck.

Safiya was set up at the table by the kitchen, hosting her computer, a jumble of folders and piles of unorganized papers, at least three finished Monster’s scattered in between it all, and herself: wrapped in a knitted blanket, the monitor’s blue light bathing her dark skin. Summer was a couple steps away on the couch, lying down on her stomach and watercoloring, her legs idly kicking this way and that in the air (when Saf was working, Summer liked to create with her, she’d put on one of Saf’s records and make all kinds of art in a concentrated, comfortable silence, but watercoloring was always her favorite. Sometimes she’d give Saf painted pictures of the characters in whatever game she was working on, which made Saf smile like an idiot every time and put them someplace safe.) There were still wildflowers and weeds weaved into Summer’s golden hair, mud caking her tennis shoes laid forgotten by the door, and a soft smile on her face; all clues that made Saf infer she’d probably been out in the garden this morning that Summer had recently started. Saf had a lot of land extending from the cottage she’d never explored and left wholly wild and uncared for, so Summer kind of took over. 

Now when Saf looked out one of the front windows, there were all kinds of flowers lining the house, fluffy bumblebees laying on their petals, the beginnings of an apple tree supported by two wooden poles on either side as big as the sapling was. Once, she got dressed in all of her protective clothing because Summer asked if she could bring her outside and show her the full tour, just to see her get excited talking about all the different seeds she’d planted, her plans to tie a swing to the big oak tree out front. Safiya, in those moments, felt like she knew Summer, really. Felt like she knew what she could do to keep her in that good place, and even if she still slipped into being far away, Saf could handle it.

(There were other kinds of days, too, when Summer felt like a completely different person and Safiya was out kicking in the fucking deep end with no understanding of what to do, if anything she could do would make a difference anyways. Sometimes Summer wouldn’t talk for days. Sometimes, she’d sit poised and elegant- on the couch or the rocking chair or her bed in what used to be the spare room- for hours and hours and hours with the only movement being her blinking every so often, her face otherwise looked like it was as trapped in a pose as the rest of her. Safiya would try sitting down with her, and talking as quiet and gentle as her voice would allow, ask her if she was alright, if she wanted to maybe stand up with her and they could take a little walk around the rooms of the cottage, maybe, or- or Saf could put on all of her gear and they could go outside together- take my hand, everything’s okay, you’re safe I promise- but Summer would be unresponsive at that point, staring straight ahead, and Safiya would realize just how fucking unqualified she was to try and help her at all.)

Safiya fell out of her thoughts as the record Summer put on got caught in a groove, and started repeating the same chord over and over. Summer’s head peeked up from the couch, and she walked over to the record player, delicately flipping the vinyl and motioning towards putting it back onto the player.

She never got the chance, though. The front door made a clicking sound, the hinges sighed, and Violet Lowe was standing in the doorframe. Summer dropped the vinyl and it shattered. 

“I thought I changed my locks.” Safiya didn’t move from where she spoke.

Violet shrugged. “You did.” There was quiet. She closed the door behind her to keep the light out.

Safiya stood up, her blanket dropping to the floor, and she felt stupid for being in her sweats and a pair of fucking crocs because it would be really great if she was anything close to intimidating right now. Still, she walked over to Vi, putting herself in between her and Summer. 

Safiya intended to say a lot of things to her, everything that had been boiling in her mind since the morning Vi left and didn’t come back, insults and how could yous and I deserve better than thats. Instead, this is what came out: “I missed you, Vi. So much.” If, Saf thought, she was just a little less emotionally stunted, there’d be tears in her eyes. She really thought Vi wasn’t going to come back this time.

Violet smiled, but it was unreadable behind her sunglasses. She was definitely selling again, it showed in the gold and silver coiling around her fingers in serpentine rings and  dripping down her neck, contrasted starkly against her black cocktail dress. She had new heeled boots that made her stand almost as tall as Summer was, their glossy cold-black finish the exact same shade as her perfectly maintained bob. “I know you missed me. It’s why I came back.”

“Where have you been selling?” Saf knew Vi had friends in the business with mansions up and down the west coast they’d hop around, going from city to city giving out all kinds of compounds and getting rich as fuck in the process, living like psychedelic royalty. But this felt different, she’d been gone for too long.

Vi shook her head. “Not selling. Manufacturing. That’s where the real money is. We don’t have to move around, either, we bought this underground military bunker-”

“A bunker. An underground military bunker.” How the fuck do you just buy an underground military bunker.

Vi mhm’d impatiently, as if she was puzzled as to Saf not being able to keep up. “It used to be for large weapons storage, but it got auctioned off. One of the smartest decisions me and Nic ever made.” Sometimes Saf didn’t recognize the names Vi would rattle off, but Nic, Nic she knew from the one time she’d been with Saf while she was away on her business trips. She swallowed the memories she, frankly, could not be less prepared to deal with, back down.

Violet took Safiya’s hands in hers, the cold metal of her rings making imprints against Saf’s fingers. “Saf, Elana’s making psychoactive compounds nobody’s even theorized about before, with the amount of privacy we have there. You understand? We’re about to change the drug underbelly of this entire nation. And I want you there with me.”

“I’d go with you?” Vi’d never offered to take her with, ever since everything happened that summer, with her Vi, Elana and Nic. Safiya looked back at Summer in her floral sundress (she only wore that one on days when she was feeling good, Saf knew it was her favorite,) who at that point had pressed herself against the wall, standing straight and dead silent, staring at the both of them, her face unreadably calm to most, but Saf knew she only disconnected like that when she was fucking terrified. The record was still in pieces on the ground. With both eyes on her, Summer peeled herself off of the wall and hurriedly started picking up the shattered bits. Safiya moved towards her, breaking Vi’s grip. “It’s alright, Summer, I’ve got this, don’t worry about it-”

“Summer?” Vi said behind her, and Safiya realized just how badly she does not want these two people in her life to interact ever. Fuck. “It suits her so well. How have you liked my birthday present for you so far?”

Safiya stomped back up to Violet, and in a whisper edging on a growl, “We are not doing this right now Vi.” Saf would make grave eye contact with her if it weren’t for the fact that Vi still had her fucking shades on. 

“Now, if you had such a problem with my generosity, she’d be gone by now, wouldn’t she?” And then, after a moment, she added: “Stop acting like a saint, Safiya. You’ve never been a good liar.”

The room buzzed with the echo of her words, and Safiya stood there, quiet, for a dragged out moment, trying to think of some way to spit back at her. It didn’t happen. With the most calm face she can put on right now, she turned back to Summer. “Summer, maybe you should... go outside, for a little bit. I’ll tell you when I’ve shown Violet out.” She makes those last words taste like venom, matter-of-fact, so Vi can hear her anger. 

“No, she can stay.”

Summer stopped dead in her tracks. Looking at the fear in her eyes, that sinking look that overpowered any kind of calm Summer usually had when Saf was there, Saf knew she was lost. Summer was listening to Vi, now, all Vi, the kind of gone Saf was all too familiar with people getting under Vi’s words.

“Anyways,” Vi said, a tad annoyed, as if all of that had just been a mere blip in the conversation, turning her head to address Saf, “yes, you’re coming with. You’d be safe in the bunker, I made sure of it. All of your special lights. I want…. I want you there. With me.”

If this had been in literally any other context, Safiya would’ve smiled at Vi’s effort to communicate her feelings, Saf had been with her for years and she knew how hard it was for her to even understand her own emotions, much less say them out loud. But she was pissed at her, and she was going to hold onto that feeling for as long as she could to make her feel worse. “Summer stays here.” There was no way in hell she was going to let Summer anywhere near Vi’s fucked up drug empire. 

Vi just fucking shrugged. “She’s coming.”

Saf charged at her again, pointing an accusing finger at her and getting close enough until it buried into the fabric of Vi’s dress. “You can act like I’m as fucked up as you are but I would never trust her with your or your f-”

Vi smiled, and batted Saf’s hand off of her as if she was a somewhat disinterested cat. “Let me rephrase that. My name is on her contract. She’s coming.”

[itslmdee]

Fic: When Fans Collide

Mira meets a fellow female fan with a secret at a convention.For the allbingo meet-ugly prompt "we have been chatting online for three years and today I learned your profile picture isn't you"

Mira loved going to conventions and meeting other fans, buying merchandise, attending the celebrity panels, and joining in with the amazing cosplay; those who liked to dress up as a favourite character could get very inventive with their costumes.

Mira had chosen to dress as Domino from "Deadpool 2" this year, having previously cosplayed as characters including Wonder Woman, Zoë from "Firefly" and, last year, Valkyrie from "Thor: Ragnarok". She hadn't gone so far as to add a contact lens as another Dominio cosplayer she'd met at the registration desk had, but she'd carefully applied the white makeup around one eye and fluffed up her hair.

She'd hoped to meet her online friend of three years, and fellow fan, Erica, but at the last minute Erica had said she wouldn't be able to make it this time, adding a sad emoji to her instant message. Erica hadn't been to a fan convention before and was anxious about it, so Mira wondered if it was nerves that led her to back out.

"I'll take lots of photos for you," Mira had promised. She already had several of the building and a couple with some fans, including the other Dominio, who had gushed over Mira's elbow-length fingerless leather gloves as more authentic than her own.

Mira browsed some of the stalls full of comics, signed photos, Funko Pops and other figurines, Blu-Ray box sets, and more. She'd got some money saved up especially to splurge on merchandise.

"Sorry," someone said as they bumped into her. Mira looked up at the woman who was wearing a "Burr shot first" T-shirt and a beautiful dragon necklace.

"No problem. I love the shirt," Mira said. "Both "Hamilton" and "Star Wars", what's not to love? My friend Erica has the same one." Erica had proudly photographed the shirt laid out on her bed being admired by a plush Pikachu.

The woman paled a little. "Thanks," she mumbled and walked away.

Mira was surprised by the reaction but didn't take offence. People could get nervous around strangers, especially if they felt intimidated by the crowded halls. She continued browsing.

Several stalls later Mira had only purchased a couple of keyrings though she'd seen a lot of things she'd like. She'd probably buy more things tomorrow once she'd seen everything on offer, and had her eye on a "Stargate: Atlantis" print and a colour-changing "Supernatural" mug.

Stopping for a coffee, Mira spotted the Hamilton fan again, huddled in one corner and glancing at the convention leaflet and then at the room as if lost. She wandered over slowly, giving a wide smile.

"Hi," Mira said. "This your first time here? It's a bit overwhelming when you first get here but most people are really friendly and you'll have a great time."

The woman nodded, one hand moving to fondle her necklace.

"That's a great piece," Mira said, "I'm Mira."

The woman nodded again. "I know."

That was unexpected. Mira glanced down at her ID badge; it was readable close-up but the woman must have good eyesight to have seen it from this distance.

"I'm sorry," the woman said and launched into a ramble. "I'm so ashamed. I kind of hoped I'd see you here, but I said I couldn't come because then you'd know what a liar I am, and so I said I wouldn't come and then I got here, and it's so crowded and you know I don't like crowds, and I regret everything right now and I'm sorry."

Mira blinked a few times, taking all this in. "Erica?" she asked when the woman finally stopped for a much needed breath. It was the only thing that made sense except the woman didn't look like Erica's profile picture. She leaned in and peered at the woman's badge. Erica Staywell. Her friend.

"Yes. You look amazing," Erica said. "Just like the pictures you showed me when you were preparing your costume. And I look…" She gestured vaguely.

"You look a little different to your profile picture," Mira agreed. Her own pic showed her dressed as Princess Tiana from when she and some of her friends had all dressed as Disney Prince and Princesses for a Halloween party.

"That's because that's not me," Erica said miserably. "It's a picture I found on a stock photo website. I was making a vision board to inspire me and I chose her because she's younger, thinner, prettier than me. I put her as my avatar because that's what I wanted to look like, that's how I wanted to feel, happy like she looks in that picture. It makes me feel good to look at her when I post online."

That was understandable, but Erica wasn't finished. Before Mira could ask why she'd never mentioned the photo was inspirational rather than based in reality, Erica explained. "We'd only been talking for a while when you said something nice about me and I didn't want to admit I didn't look like that; I'd just lost my job and was feeling miserable enough without having to show you how I really looked."

Mira stared at her, aghast. They'd still been getting to know each other then but she remembered Erica getting made redundant and how it had in fact brought them closer with Mira sending her gifs to cheer her up when she was low, letting Erica vent about the struggle of hunting for a job, and being thrilled when Erica got her new job which turned out to be better in every respect than her old one. They'd even talked a bit about the vision board which had at first seemed to fail Erica by letting redundancy occur before delivering the better pay and flexible hours she'd been asking the Universe for.

Now she understood why none of the photos Erica had shared in the last three years had shown her face.

"Oh, Erica," Mira said with sympathy. She was still reconciling this woman with her friend – and since they'd only ever communicated via text, no doubt Erica was getting used to hearing Mira's voice too. Meeting someone in person was always an interesting experience. "I would have understood."

Erica shook her head. "The longer it went on it just seemed like this huge thing that I'd have to tell you and I was embarrassed."

"Enough that you'd come to the convention alone?" Mira had already planned her trip and booked a single room since it was a longer distance for her to travel and she wanted to attend both days, Erica only initially agreeing to come for one day because she could get the train from her hometown to the hotel where she could meet up with Mira.

"I almost didn't come but I'd paid for the ticket," Erica said, blinking away tears. "I'm an idiot."

"Yes," Mira said because they'd become close enough for her to tease. "You're an idiot for thinking I'd care what you looked like. Which is amazing by the way."

Erica shook her head again and Mira pulled her into a hug.

"Look, of all the people here we found each other," Mira said, releasing Erica. "We have the rest of the day to enjoy the convention together. It's going to be so much fun."

"Okay," Erica said, summoning up a smile and wiping her eyes. "I'd like that."

"And I got you something so this will save me mailing it," Mira said, rummaging in her bag. She held out one of the keyrings.

Erica took the Lego Loki keyring, eyes wide with surprise. "Oh, thank you!"

"I've got Lego Wonder Woman," Mira said with a grin. "So, do you fancy the "Lord of the Rings" panel? It starts in ten minutes."

Erica clipped Loki to her handbag. "I'd love that."

They walked, arm in arm, to find a seat.

[pherryt]

ORDER OF PROTECTION

Pic request for Chapter 10 by @li-izumi

I struggled so much with Dean for this picture.his head is too big, his body is too skinny, but otherwise, i liked it. Quick pencil sketch done during a studio session with @weekendartmarathon

Finished Supernatural Fic AU Rating; General Wordcount: 96,231

Summary:

Dean and Cas wanted children. They'd considered using surrogates, but finally chose to try adoption. In the end, it didn't matter, though they never expected to get kids the way they did.

It's almost Christmas time when Castiel's two young nieces fall into their lives, and Dean and Cas are scrambling to make a home for them, and worrying about how much damage the kids have suffered that they'll need to undo.

And are they up to the task?

Excerpt from Chapter 10 that inspired this pic behind the cut (And if you read along and see a chapter that does NOT have a pic? Feel free to suggest one!)

Dean let out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair, looking first at their open door and then back to his husband. Dean pointed in the direction of the kids’ room, “That’s another one.”

“Another…? Another sign? I suspected, but I don’t understand what it means,” Castiel admitted.

“Yeah, well, most kids I know, aren’t that considerate,” Dean answered, “Not that they don’t want to be. Some of them do. It’s more like they don’t comprehend certain things, like how much noise they are making. How the time of day can change the impact of the same amount of noise. And that there? Was a child who did comprehend that and tried to lessen the impact so they disturbed those around them the least. Tell me Cas, why would a kid learn that?”

“Normally, I’d say the parents taught them to be more careful. That’s what parents do, isn’t it?” Castiel ventured.

“Yeah…if you happen to know the parents are pretty cool and not at all like your sister and her ex. Which leaves us to consider the other reason a kid might learn to be so careful, so quiet…” Dean’s face was red, angry. He was breathing hard, but somehow had managed to keep his voice fairly level. It was an effort, Castiel could see.

“Dean…” Castiel pulled him back against his body, trying to comfort Dean with his warmth.

“Cas, Sam and I learned damn early on never to get on Johns bad side. Because if he was having one of his episodes, or if he was drunk, the results weren’t pretty. Especially those later years and that’s all I can see right now, babe. That’s all I can see, those girls are so conflicted. They love us. God, I know I didn’t imagine that. They were honestly happy to see us! But they’re afraid of us, because that’s what their experience has shown them. To be afraid of the ones they love.” Dean nearly sobbed, his voice hitching, words wobbling.

“We’ll just have to show them not to be. Like Bobby did with you and Sam. It’ll be okay, Dean, remember? We’re doing this together, not alone, and we have support from other people, just like you said a few days ago, when I was freaking out about…about the stupid shit…” Castiel pressed a kiss into Dean’s hair, closing his eyes as he remembered his panic about the girls coming to live with them.

Dean snorted wetly into Cas’s shirt. “Wasn’t stupid shit, Cas. Your fears were just as valid, they were just on a different spectrum,” Dean paused, “No, that’s not quite right. Same spectrum. Both of us are worried that we won’t be able to care for the kids the way they need to be. It’s just that now our worries have expanded from the sorts of worries most parents have. Because now we know there are deeper issues here. We’ve gone from worrying about raising them right, to worrying about undoing the damage so that we can raise them right.”

“Still…” Cas trailed off, uncertain of where he was going with his train of thought. He was unsettled. Worried for his nieces, worried for himself, and worried for Dean. He had had an inkling of what it had been like for his husband and Sam, but hadn’t realized how much it still affected him. How having the girls in their care would bring light to old wounds, maybe even re-open them.

On the other hand, Castiel couldn’t imagine anyone better at helping those girls then Dean. He could relate to Emma and Grace in a way most people never would be able to.

That had to count for something, right?

[stillthewordgirl]

CC fic (with a pic): Second Chances

When a new version of Leonard joins Team Legends for a time, Sara's reluctant to get to know him. But when they're stuck together after a mission gone wrong, a conversation just might have to happen...

For the @ccficwithapic challenge. To be paired with artwork by @pillie-biper10​ :) Words used were "grasp," "fumble," and "capsule."

This version of Snart isn't quite the comics New 52 version, but he was definitely inspired by him! 

Story can also be read here at AO3.

***

“And sometimes, against all odds, against all logic, we hope.” 

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"I'm afraid not, Captain Lance." Gideon's voice is low; her tone a trifle subdued. "We have not yet been able to identify the substances released when you and Mr. Snart were in the lab. And given some of the others still secured that we have identified, you need to remain in quarantine until we are certain you were not exposed to something dangerous. And contagious."

Sara stares through the clear wall of the brig—which can apparently be completely locked down to contain even microscopic intruders--at Ray, who gives her a mournful look back. As well he should, since it's his goof that's landed her in here with...with a man who's not who he says he is, no matter how many times he says it or what the rest of the team thinks.

Which is probably not what she should really be concerned about right now. "How worried should I be about this?"

"Not that worried, Captain." Gideon sounds rather tentative. "I have treatments for anything you might have been exposed to. I think. But some of them take a while to show symptoms, or even test results, so..."

"I'm sorry," Ray finally says, again. "Sara, really. I just..." He holds his hands, now free of the ATOM suit, out before him. "The capsule, it just slipped out of my grasp. I tried to catch it before it could knock over the others, but..."

"But that's when all the bad guys came through the door. I get it, Ray." Sara shakes her head at him. "You're just lucky you had your visor down and aren't stuck in here too."

"Yeah, especially since he's the one who fumbled everything," Mick points out as he ambles in behind Ray. "You two both kept hold of yours, even through the fight. Still feelin' OK? Not gonna keel over on us?"

Sara rolls her eyes at him and Mick grins at her, then looks past her. "Bos... Snart? Still alive back there?"

Sara winces, but the man sprawled out on a cot behind her chuckles.

"Yes, Mick," he drawls as she turns, almost against her will, to glance at him. "Still kickin'. No thanks to the Boy Scout here."

"I said I was sorry..." Ray starts again, as Mick laughs and Sara closes her eyes in a "give me strength" sort of gesture.

"Enough," she says, cutting him off. "Gideon, how long do we have to stay in here?"

The pause is just long enough that she frowns, casting her eyes upward as they all sometimes tend to do when addressing the AI. "Gideon?"

"I...am not sure," Gideon tells her, hastily adding, "but 12 hours should be sufficient for either conclusive symptoms or test results. Or...maybe a little more?"

It's oddly nonspecific coming from the AI, but Sara shakes her head, looking at Ray and Mick to commiserate.

They're both wearing odd expressions. Ray looks guilty...well, he is responsible for this. Mick looks...smug? Sara frowns at him and he wipes the expression off his face, then turns quickly for the door, tossing a quick "Don't hurt each other" over his shoulder as he leaves.

"We'll check on you later," Ray says hastily, turning to follow. "And Gideon's keeping an eye on you. Right, Gideon?"

"Yes, Dr. Palmer."

As he hurries out, Sara sighs, then, setting her shoulders, turns and heads for the other cot in the room, ignoring the brig's other current inhabitant. That doesn't mean, however, that she doesn't feel his eyes on her as she sits down, then stretches out on the cot.

She closes her eyes, ignoring him.

When Gideon had detected an odd temporal signature several weeks ago (Waverider time) in 2020 National City, the team had gone to investigate...only to find not a mere anachronism, someone or something out of time...but one Leonard Snart, apparently out of time and out of whatever alternate Earth had spawned him.

And with ice powers, with which he'd actually managed to startle them all before realizing they weren't attacking.

Of all of them, he'd recognized only Mick (from whom he'd seemed to expect violence) and Ray. He'd frowned curiously at Firestorm, but only commented "You look a bit different on my Earth."

He'd stared at her with interest, but no sign of recognition at all. Sara's still pretending that hadn't hurt, but she's used to it now, after all.

Gideon and Jax were still trying to figure out how to get him home to his Earth—which is, Gideon had asserted, theoretically possible for the Waverider. Sara'd wanted to simply drop him off in Central City and let Team Flash figure it out, but Ray (and Mick, to be honest) had given her the puppy dog eyes and she'd allowed that they could at least make an attempt—and let him stay in the meantime.

That, she thinks now, had been a mistake.

No, this isn't the Snart they'd known before, and it's not the asshole from the Legion. This one's a bit more open, a little more communicative and even more openly snarky. And he is, if he can be believed, an actual hero, although he'd visibly cringed when admitting it—and that'd reminded her more of her...of the original Leonard than anything else he'd done.

He'd been a crook in the past—master crook, he’d told them quite proudly--but now he's a member of something called the Justice League, and although he mutters about "those damned heroes," no one’s buying his complaints for an instant. His actions here have shown otherwise.

He fits in with the team far better than that other Leonard had, at least at first. Maybe if he'd had time, that one would have grown into this one. But Sara doesn’t think so.

And she’d rather have the old one back, anyway.

She thinks, sometimes, that she’s the only one. This Snart’s just so much more easygoing. He lets Ray chatter at him; openly treats Jax like a little brother and talks to Stein about books and history. He's even managed to charm Amaya and Zari. (Though he pretty much ignores Nate.)

Mick, whom Sara'd expected to react much as she has, simply seems so glad to have a Leonard Snart (one who doesn't want to kill him or the team) back in his life. And this new Snart, who'd had some sort of falling out with the Mick on his Earth, seems pleased to have his old partner back. Sara, lingering in the hallway and listening to them talk--and missing the way things used to be between the three of them--wishes she could feel the same.

But.

She opens her eyes, then turns her head and regards the man on the other cot, who's lying there with his eyes closed. He's wearing the same outfit he'd had on when they'd first picked him up, a sleeveless black jumpsuit with a white-and-blue hooded garment over it. It's also sleeveless, given that his powers tend to ice up not only his hands but his forearms. She'd never seen the real Leonard show remotely that much skin.

They're very nice arms, really, she thinks, studying them for a moment, then lets her eyes drift back to his face.

And he's looking right at her.

Damnit.

Leonard—Len, he's told them to call him Len--lets a few moments pass, his eyes boring into her, a strange expression on his face. Sara frowns and stubbornly refuses to look away. She has, she thinks with a sigh, done that a little too often lately.

"So...Birdy," he says finally, his voice low and intense and sending a shiver down her spine. "Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you," Sara responds reflexively, looking away just as reflexively, then back.

“Uh, huh.” He snorts, but his eyes don’t leave hers. “Everyone else on this team thinks I’m the second coming of this hero Leonard Snart that saved time, and all your lives…”

“He wasn’t a hero.”

Len blinks at her, but he doesn’t say anything, in a clear bid for her to continue. Sara’s already regretting her impulsive words, but she knows he’s not going to just let them lie.

“He’d have hated that,” she tells him. “Being called a hero. I mean…I guess he was, but…” Her voice trails off. "He wasn't like you, he was...I mean..."

She's normally not at a loss for words, but she can't quite seem to find the right ones here. She sighs, then casts her eyes back up toward the ceiling, thinking.

"You were friends," she hears him say, his voice still low. "You and the other me. Mick told me."

"Yeah."

They both let the silence stretch a little longer.

"More?" he asks, and there's an odd note in his tone, one she can't quite place. "More than friends?"

It still hurts to think about it. And she's let that show to no one else, not even Mick, carried it for so long now that she thinks that that pain will always be a part of her.

"Not quite," she says, still staring at the ceiling. "We could have been, I mean...but then he died and..."

Sara rolls back onto her side and stares at Len, who's staring patiently back at her.

"I liked that he wasn't a hero," she tells him, the words spilling out, catharsis painful and cleansing in equal measure. "He understood me, probably better than anyone else here. He understood the battle. Hell, he had his own. He wasn't perfect, he was an asshole and a jerk and he held the goddamned cold gun on me, trying to save me at the Vanishing Point and I still hadn't forgiven him when..."

She stops, draws in a long, shaky breath, then looks at Len again. He's just looking back at her, that almost soft, questioning look still in his eyes, just like when...

"No, Len, he was not a hero," she tells him quietly. "And then he turned into one and it got him killed."

Her words are followed by silence as he considers her. Sara refuses to look away, though, now that she's gotten the words out.

Finally, Len sighs.

"And you blame me," he says quietly, "for...what? Being what he didn't get a chance to be?"

But Sara's shaking her head. "That'd be stupid," she retorts quickly. "I...don't know. I guess...he fought so hard, and then he died, and here you are...you didn't have to fight, you weren't there in Russia, in the '50s, at the Vanishing Point, you don't know..."

The bark of laughter startles her so much that Sara sits up on the cot, staring at him. Len shakes his head, still lying back on the bunk, eyes closed and mouth twisted as if in pain.

"I didn't have to fight, huh?" he asks, both humor and bitterness in his tone. "No, you just didn't see it. Most of the league still thinks I'm an asshole who's going to go back to icing the Flash at the merest opportunity, someone who needs to be to watched at all times. I dunno, maybe they're right, but...."

They both let the silence stretch again. Sara's gripping the edge of her cot and watching him, starting to understand, just a little, this man who's landed on the Waverider with them. No less complicated than the Snart she'd...oh, just think it...cared for before, after all.

Finally, Len sighs.

"Your team, they get it," he mutters to the ceiling. "They don't want me to be...perfect. They don't blame me for not being that way, for having...history." He shakes his head, then sits up to match her, eyes on hers, and she's startled by the expression in his eyes, the depth of emotion his counterpart had always kept so pent up.

"I feel...at home here," he says quietly. "Oddly enough. I'd even stay if I could, but I...well, I got promises to keep, back there. Just wanna enjoy this while it lasts."

How can she not understand that? That feeling of finding family, of a niche, where people aren't looking at you sideways for having your demons. Even this team wasn't like that originally, but they've grown into it, and she can understand so, so well...

Impulsively, Sara climbs to her feet and crosses the narrow width of the brig, sitting down next to Len, who eyes her, but doesn't move away.

"I'm sorry," she says, daring to do something it'd taken Leonard months to allow and putting a hand on his forearm. (She feels the muscles tense, but he doesn't flinch.) "I get that...the people watching you, just waiting for you to...to lose it, to explode, to step out of line. I used to feel like that." A deep breath. "There are days that, deep down, I still do."

He regards her a moment, then smiles, just a little.

"Yeah," he says, "I knew you'd get it. Just had a feelin'."

For a while, they just sit there, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Sara sighs, and speaks again.

"OK," she admits, "maybe I should have given you more of a chance. I'm sorry."

"How much of a chance?"

Sara blinks at him. In contrast to the seriousness of their conversation, there's a note of...oh, yes, that's definitely flirtation there. Something almost playful, in a way Leonard rarely managed. And interest, oh yes...

And hope.

"Don't push it," she warns, but she can't keep the edge of playfulness from her tone either. They'd also flirted, just a bit, and it's so easy to slip back into...

"Dinner."

Sara blinks again. "What?"

"Next time we're in a time where we can have a little spare, well, time. Can I take you to dinner?" Len shrugs, smirk hovering around the corners of his mouth, something warm in his eyes that she can't help responding to. "Get outta of the ship, talk a little more, see Sara Lance instead of Captain Lance."

He tilts his head and considers her. "'Cause I really think she's pretty amazing, too."

Sara stares at him.

"Are you asking me on a date?" she manages finally.

"I know, I know, it's sort of weird." He snorts and looks around the brig. "I mean, we're still waiting to see if we're going to come down with something vile and deadly, and up until 15 minutes or so ago, you wouldn't even talk to me, but...."

A glance back at her. A warm, intent gaze that—yeah, it does pretty remarkable things to her, that gaze. Even from this Snart.

"We'll see," she tells him, smiling, "after Gideon clears us. And if we ever find the time of which you speak."

"S'all I ask." Len leans back and smirks at her.

He's not Leonard. He'll never be Leonard. But he's here and they have so much in common, more even than before.

And it'd be such a pity to waste more time.

"Now, do you," she says, looking him in the eyes and making a decision, "like to play cards?"

"Gideon?"

"They are playing cards, Dr. Palmer." The AI sounds pleased. "And they've been talking. I think differences have...if not quite resolved, then at least dealt with. And they are quite thoroughly engaged in what you humans call 'flirting,' as I understand it..."

Jax, who'd rounded the corner into the medbay just in time to hear Mick's bark of laughter and Gideon's last sentence, shakes his head at them.

"Why aren't we a little more concerned with, like, the chances of them dying a slow and painful death by smallpox or something?" the younger man points out. "Yeah, I wanna see Sara admit Len's a pretty decent guy too...but..."

"I was able to clear the captain and Mr. Snart medically within 30 minutes after their arrival back at the ship." The AI's tone is a little prim, as Mick and Ray snicker a little. "But I agreed with Mr. Rory and Mr. Palmer that they needed to...what did Mr. Rory say? 'Get their shit together and deal with it.' This seemed like a valid way to push them to do so."

Jax shakes his head, eyeing his two teammates and then casting his eyes upward.

"Gideon, you've been hanging around this crew too long," he says with a laugh. "That's pretty damned sneaky."

"Thank you, Mr. Jackson...I think?"

Now I might just have to write that dinner date...

[whimzea-blog]

Hotter Sex with Your Man- Tonight! (Part 5)

This one is heavily inspired by the “Voyeurism” chapter in the Anti-Kink verse I linked earlier--also this is one tip I would NOT suggest you try with a partner lol

18. Unleash your man’s possessive side! When you’re at the club or even at the grocery store, flirt a little bit with another guy. A little jealousy never hurt anyone, and your man will work extra hard to make sure that you know you’re his.

Strangely, the dirty text tip did sort of work.

Zane had rushed to comfort Heath when he got home, telling him he’d told Jason what a fucking prick he was and that it would take a very long time for Zane to forgive him. And when Heath didn’t feel like he wanted to kill himself, Zane admitted that the ass pics he’d sent were hot as hell. Heath ended up on his hands and knees with Zane’s mouth on his asshole, and the sex had been much better than usual.

But still not to pre-stale levels.

Since things were on the uptick...well, sort of- Heath decided that he’d try another tip.

He was hesitant about #18, but it was the next thing on the list that he could actually do without breasts or high heels.

He had never noticed Zane get jealous. They were already very affectionate with their friends- it was just normal for them- and none of the guys in the group were interested in other guys. 

But he had never tried to make Zane jealous, so this was new territory. This tip was definitely the hardest so far. It was rare for him to notice another guy in a sexual way, and even if he did, his gaydar was pretty terrible. He had no idea whether they would flirt back or punch him in the face.

Good thing he was a risk-taker, right?

Fortunately, a few nights later he was able to try out his flirting skills. The group had gone out to a club downtown, right on the edge of West Hollywood. Heath thought there was a pretty good chance there’d be someone into him there.

He’d worn the same tight jeans he’d done the strip tease in and an even tighter black t-shirt. He knew he was going to get roasted by the guys for the outfit, but it was worth it if it worked to get Zane jealous.

They headed straight to the bar when they arrived. It was packed, and loud, and hot. Zane was clinging to him like glue, partly because of Heath’s ass in those jeans, and partly because he was trying to stay away from Jason, who unfortunately had tagged along.

Normally Heath wouldn’t mind, but it was going to be pretty hard to make Zane jealous if he was watching him the entire time.

His chance came when Zane left to go to the bathroom. He took his drink and scrambled to the other end of the bar that was obscured by people and a big pillar, so Zane would’t find him right away when he came back. 

He tried to pose sexily, at first leaning with his back against the bar so he could see everyone, and they could see him. When that didn’t work, he turned around and rested his elbows on the bar, sticking his ass out. He finished his drink and played with his phone, willing someone to just come up and talk to him so he could put this plan in action.

As soon as he had thought it, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He knew it wasn’t Zane, but he could tell it was definitely a dude. He felt a rush of nervous anticipation, but he pushed it back down, swallowed, and turned to look.

He was gorgeous, His skin was a beautiful caramel color, and his eyes were a deep dark brown. He had head of thick black hair, and an absolutely stellar body. He was like Todd, but with bigger pecs.

“Hi. I’m Jeremy.” The guy held out his hand for Heath to shake. 

“Heath.” Jeremy was smiling at him widely, his teeth white and sparkling like he was in a commercial.

“Nice to meet you, Heath. So, I saw you standing here and thought you were pretty cute. I was hoping you’d dance with me,” Jeremy said, gesturing towards the dance floor.

Heath couldn’t imagine walking up to someone and asking them point blank if they wanted to dance, but he guessed that if you were as hot as this guy, you could afford to be a little cocky.

HIs eyes flicked to the other end of the bar. He could see that Zane was looking for him. Heath leaned a little bit more over the bar, hoping that Zane would notice. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Zane finally spot him, but he kept his eyes on Jeremy.

“Sure, I’d love to,” Heath answered. He let Jeremy take his hand and lead him to the dance floor, and he was positive Zane had seen every step.

It was weird dancing with a guy. He and Zane had never done it seriously, only for a stupid Snap or something. But this guy was serious, and he was already dancing pretty hard.

Heath stayed with Jeremy for a few songs. He realized his plan was backfiring towards the end of the fourth. He was smashed against Jeremy’s front, and he could feel Jeremy’s dick hard against his ass. He was so, so uncomfortable, and he couldn’t see that Zane was even watching them.

He tried to move them closer to where Zane had been standing at the bar, and luckily he was still there, although he was talking to Brandon now. 

He lasted one more song, until he couldn’t stomach the feeling of Jeremy against him one second longer. 

“Hey, this was really fun, but I better get back to my friends,” Heath said, inching towards the bar.

“Can I get your number before you go?” Jeremy asked, unperturbed. 

“I don’t have a phone,” Heath lied before he scurried back to the bar. He ordered a shot of tequila and downed it before approaching Brandon and Zane. As he expected, the burn of the liquor helped to get rid of the cringe.

“Who were you dancing with?” Zane was looking at him funny, but Heath couldn’t tell if he was jealous or not. At least he had seen them.

“Oh, just some guy,” Heath answered casually. “I think his name was John, or Jimmy or something.”

“That’s cool,” Zane replied, nodding and taking a sip of his beer.

That’s cool? What the fuck?

“So, you...you don’t mind?”

“That you were dancing with another guy?” Zane shook his head. “Nah. It’s just dancing. I trust you.”

Okay, Heath’s plan had definitely backfired. And to top it off, Zane apparently was the best boyfriend on the entire planet.

“And it didn’t look like you were having much fun anyway,” Zane added. “Actually, it looked like you were pretty miserable.” 

He wasn’t wrong. 

Heath stayed at the bar with them for a bit longer before the girls came and dragged him to the floor for more dancing. Dancing with them was a lot more pleasant, and he figured even if the tip hadn’t worked, he was having a good time anyway.

They decided to switch locations at around 1am, and they were walking to the next place when Heath’s phone buzzed. It was Dommy D.

Hey, saw on Snap that u guys were out and about. Mind if I join? Just got back from San Fran but not tired yet.

Heath hadn’t seen Dom in two weeks, and hadn’t realized how much he’d missed him until now. Fuck yes. We’re heading to Sultan now. Meet us there.

Sultan was a hookah bar/club/restaurant/whatever else you could think of. It was what they all liked about it. If you were hype, you could dance and get fucked up. If you were feeling more chill, you could smoke and eat. And the baklava was on point.

See you in twenty.

“Dom’s gonna meet us at Sultan,” Heath told Zane excitedly. “I haven’t seen that guy in forever.”

“Great,” Zane replied with a smile, throwing an arm around Heath’s shoulders.

Heath was feeling more chill, so he went straight for the hookah bar when they arrived. This area of Sultan was covered with low red cushions, with short tables scattered in between. 

He flopped onto a cushion. Only Brandon and his date decided to join him, and that was totally fine. Less was more with this sort of thing.

Soon they had a hookah in front of them, and they chatted and took turns smoking. 

Dom found him not too long after, and Heath grinned as he sat down next to him on the cushion.

“Dude!” Heath hugged his friend and handed him the hose so he could smoke. “How was San Fran?”

They talked until the hookah had burned out and then they ordered another. Dom kept drinking until he was delightfully tipsy. He was even more hilarious than usual.

Brandon and his date decided to call it a night, so Heath and Dom had the space all to themselves. Their sides were pressed together from thigh to shoulder, and they passed the hose back and forth. Heath laughed a lot, and even though he knew there was only tobacco in the hookah, he felt calmer, more chill, and totally at ease.

Heath let his head drop onto Dom’s shoulder for a second, and Dom wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Shotgun!” Dom called out before he inhaled, sucking up the smoke and holding it in his mouth, gesturing at Heath.

Heath laughed and opened his mouth, and Dom pressed his lips against Heath’s to blow the smoke inside.

Heath inhaled deeply, then exhaled the excess off to the side. Dom was still really close to his face, looking at him intently.

“Dom?” Heath breathed, confused. And then he felt Dom’s lips on his again, but this time there was no smoke. 

Heath made a surprised noise, and Dom put a hand on his neck and deepened the kiss.

Heath was too shocked to do anything other than sit there with Dom’s tongue in his mouth. Never, in the whole time that they had been friends, had Dom ever shown an inkling of interest in guys, even when he was balls to the wall drunk or high on molly. 

Heath didn’t exactly kiss back, but it took him awhile to pull away. What would he do when this kiss was over? What would happen to their friendship?

“Heath?” 

Oh no. Oh God no. 

Heath turned his head and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Zane was standing in front of them, a drink in his hand. He looked crushed. A mixture of anger, and sadness, and utter devastation.

Heath was like in a deer in headlights. Dom had his head in his hands and was cursing quietly to himself.

“I came over to check on you...but it looks like you’re doing okay,” Zane said softly. Heath had never heard him sound like that in his life- heart-broken. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

“Zane-” Heath began, but Zane turned, dropped his drink on a table, and disappeared through the entrance into the night.

“Fuck.” Heath knocked his head against the wall and shut his eyes. It was one thing to dance with a random stranger at a bar. It was another to kiss one of your best friends on the mouth when you already had a boyfriend.

“Fuck.”