#like how she had just started working at the company at 23 as a low-level employee

[tricoufamily]

my this is the fall headcanon which i can have as its creator is that after jacques's death and maybe even after the kids' deaths they'll make an award-bait mrs. villareal biopic that is genuinely well made but like 99% inaccurate and hugo would probably publicly denounce it

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

if your still doing the prompt thing how about 17, 23, 25, 29 with power!bottom claire being stressed and intern!reader offering to help but don't have any sexual experience so claire teaches them

Thank you so much for sending this in! I'm so sorry it took so long to complete, life got very hectic, but I have it for you now! I hope I've done this request justice <3

Afterhours

Ship: Claire Debella x Reader

Summary: When you, an intern working at the governor's office, offer to stay with the governor while she works late into the night, you find yourself in a situation you have only ever fantasized of.

Word Count: 5.8k

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings: smut, hints at dark!Claire, pet-names, praise kink, degradation kink, fingering, oral, first time, virgin reader, legal age gap, power imbalance, mommy kink, begging, implied subspace

It's an open secret at the office that Governor Debella is paranoid.

If the extreme vetting process to just simply become an intern is anything to go by, the woman could use some relaxation time.

After all, a single intern hardly would have the ability to take down the political powerhouse that Governor Debella is.

Or, that's what you think anyhow.

You knew you had been lucky to land the job, the experience and credentials that will pad up your resume and qualifications that will come from working here, but some days, all you can think about is how stressed the top boss constantly is.

Being a people pleaser, being a people fixer, you started to stay late, wanting to get as much work done as possible.

Sure, you're only a low level entry personnel, but what you do helps free up time for those above you to focus on more important things.

After a few weeks of being the last one in the office, Governor Debella notices.

“Don't you have someone to get home to? A boyfriend, or a pet, or something?”

You nearly topple back in your seat, startled by your boss’s boss’s boss’s boss (seriously there's a chain of command here, and you're merely a bottom feeder) not having heard her approach from behind.

“Governor!” You gasp, trying to recover. “Uh- I don't- I live with a few roommates, but they never care if I'm there or not. We're all very busy.”

Governor Debella frowns, and crosses her arms.

“There's no reason for you to be staying so late. You're an intern. You don't get paid overtime.”

You shrug.

“I don't have much else to do. Call it volunteer hours.”

(And god, doesn't that sound pathetic, especially because it's true.)

Her frown deepens.

“It's illegal for you to stay and work without pay.”

“Are you telling me I need to start going home at quitting time?”

The words spill from your mouth before you can think them through.

There's a moment of silence, and for a second you could swear it's hesitation on Governor Debella’s face.

“No.” She says, after a beat too long.

There's another, much longer silence.

You hate the quiet, and you find yourself breaking it.

“Then, er, what do you want me to do?”

Governor Debella blinks, and it draws your attention to the dark bags underneath her tired silvery-blue eyes, her makeup must having had rubbed off enough for it to begin to show.

You suddenly realize that perhaps it's just as exhausting for her as it is for everyone else to deal with her stress and paranoia.

“Would you like some company while you work?” You offer, a gentleness in your tone that you hadn't made the decision to speak with. “I could clock out and then just… Sit in your office with you if you'd like. I know how empty the building feels when everyone has left.”

This time, you know you haven't imagined her hesitation.

“I'm under contract, anyhow, Governor. If there's an additional paper you need me to sign, for security reasons, well.” You shrug. “What's one more?”

Again, there's silence, and then…

“Call me Claire, if you're really willing to sit and do nothing for hours besides for staring at my office walls.”

You're a bit shocked she's accepted your offer, and you stumble over your response.

“I- oh. Uh… Okay, um. Claire.”

The governor’s lips twitch, as if she's hiding a smile.

“But not tonight. I was just about to head out, which means you definitely should too. Security won't stick around once I leave, and the night shift…” Claire scowls. “I need to remember to get them replaced.”

It's the most you've ever heard her talk without snapping at someone to do something, let alone to you.

“Isn't that what your assistant is for? To remind you or to arrange that on your behalf?”

“That's only if I remember to tell him.” Claire mutters, before shaking her head. “Shut your computer down, you're not staying if I'm not in the building.”

She waits, hovering over your shoulder as you listen, and she walks with you out to the front of the building.

“You didn't park in the lot?” She asks, when you start to head towards home.

You can feel your face flush.

“I uh… I don't exactly get paid enough to own a car.” You refuse to look at the older woman. “Usually I just walk back.”

“It's two in the morning.” Claire sounds incredulous.

“I have pepper spray.”

“No. You're not walking home anymore.”

Claire has her arms crossed again, and an all too familiar glare is being leveled at you.

Before now, you always thought it was an angry expression.

You're beginning to wonder if maybe it's a stubborn one instead.

You sigh.

“Well short of driving me home yoursel-”

“That's exactly what I'm going to do.”

You barely manage to keep your jaw from dropping as Claire turns, clearly expecting you to follow her.

You suppose if you don't, you won't get too far before she can find you walking.

Or if not, possibly fire you over it tomorrow.

You push down your anxiety.

Don't worse case scenario. You scold yourself.

Claire drives a nondescript silver minivan.

“I have custody every other month.” She explains your unanswered question.

Ah, right.

Sometimes you forget that Claire just recently went through divorce, that she has two little ones to care for.

You remember how the media had dug it all up, how they aired her very private life for the public.

For a minivan, it's pretty nice.

When Claire turns on the car, a few loud notes play, before she quickly slams her palm against the knob that turns the car music on and off.

You raise an eyebrow, but don't say anything about it.

Instead you ask, “how are they?”

“My kids?”

She sounds mildly surprised as she reaches for her seatbelt.

“Yeah.”

You click yours in as she replies.

“They're… They're okay, all things considered.”

She puts the car in reverse, and you rattle off your address so she knows where she's headed.

Her nose wrinkles, and you're willing to bet it's because you don't live in a particularly nice area.

“You had to hire shadows- uh, bodyguards for them, right?”

Claire's hands clench the wheel, turning her knuckles white.

“I don't know of any other governor who's had their children's lives threatened.” She practically growls. “It scares them, but they won't say anything.”

“I'm sorry.” You murmur.

Claire glances at your pale face, and she takes a breath, forcing her body to relax.

“It's not your fault.” She shakes her head. “They're my kids. I'm their mother. I'm bound to be a bit overprotective.”

You choke back an unamused laugh.

“You would hope.”

Claire gives you a quick look, before returning her full attention to the road.

“What makes you say that?”

Oh crap, you didn't mean to invite Claire to dig into your life.

“Er… My parents… They weren't the best.” You mumble.

Claire frowns, eyes still looking forward.

“How old are you again?”

“Twenty-three.”

Claire hums.

“And how much are we paying you again?”

You rattle off the salary.

Claire hums again, and then there's silence for the rest of the short drive.

When she pulls up in front of your apartment, you say, “this is it.”

You undo your seatbelt and open the door, moving to leave.

“I'll have the paperwork ready for you on your desk by lunch.” Claire says.

At your confused look she huffs.

“For your extended night hours.”

Oh!

“Right, thank you. And thank you for the lift.”

Claire nods.

“If you don't have those papers past lunch break, hound my assistant. Don't take no for an answer, I might not remember to let Brian know to expect you to be a bother.”

The word bother echoes around your head, and you swallow down sudden anxiety.

“Sure thing. Good night, Governor-er- Claire.”

“Good night.” The other woman says, and you shut the passenger door firmly behind you as you sprint into your building.

—»•«—

You do have to bother her assistant the next day, and the stack of papers Claire presents you with is frankly ridiculous, but you pull out a notepad, read them through, and write bullet points of what you're agreeing to.

You sign, and initial, and date.

And then you binder clip it all together and drop it with a fairly solid thud onto Brian’s desk.

“Governor Debella will want these to be scanned and filed.” You say, even as an intern knowing the procedure for important documentation.

The man frowns at you.

“You're not done.” Brain says, and then seemingly out of nowhere, produces another stack of papers.

You groan, but your impatience quickly disappears as you stare at the sheet of paper, towards the end of the stack, that says how much of a raise you're receiving for signing on to be Claire’s personal intern.

Claire's personal intern.

$47,000

That was $15k more than what you had been making.

What the fuck.

You sign the papers, and don't say a word.

Slowly, as the day progresses, people trickle out, until you're the last one in the main office.

Brain looks at you as he leaves, and nearly walks into a wall trying to maintain his stare.

You head towards Claire's office and knock on her door.

“Come in.”

She sounds frazzled, and you realize you haven't seen her flying around the office today as you normally do.

“Everything alright?” You ask, taking note of Claire's disheveled state.

“No.” Is the simple answer you get, and you don't push as Claire continues to frantically scribble something out.

You glance around, familiarizing yourself with the private office you so rarely see the inside of, and take notice of a little seating area, with two arm chairs and a very comfortable looking couch.

In addition, there's what appears to be a bar cart, but it's filled with bottled water and sports drinks instead of alcohol, as well as a giant TV screen and what looks like a game console hooked up to it.

Somehow, you can't quite picture Claire playing video games while at work, and you have to wonder if perhaps she has ever been forced to watch one or both of her kids while working.

You don't want to become an annoyance, so instead of pacing the space, you choose to settle into one of the armchairs, curling up with one knee to your chest, the other dangling off the side of the chair.

You stare at the ceiling and let your mind wander as you examine the embedded ceiling lights.

“This is fucking bullshit.” Claire suddenly growls, and the sound of a pen clattering against the plastic wood of her desk sounds through the room.

“What is?” You ask.

Claire’s head jerks up, and for a moment, she looks surprised.

“You're so quiet.” She says. “I forgot you were here.”

You shrug, and don't say I’m good at that, I've had a lot of practice growing up.

You do say, “I didn't want to be a distraction.”

Claire hums.

She does that a lot, you realize.

“Well, maybe instead I can bounce this off of you.”

She gestures for you to come around to her side of the desk, and you quickly skim over what appears to be a proposal for a bill.

“Is it even legal for me to be doing this?” You ask.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Claire shrugging.

“You work for the government office this will be coming out from. It's not illegal, just out of the norm.”

You make a noise of understanding, going over the contents of it, frowning.

“What’s the problem with this?” You ask once you're finished giving the proposal a once-over.

Claire viciously stabs a single digit at some handwritten notes laying next to her keyboard.

“This section, this sentence, this paragraph, this fucking word is wrong, but the thesaurus is being useless-”

“Whoa, whoa.” You slow down what was sure to be Claire spiraling into more stress. “What's the most important thing to fix here?”

Claire blinks, pauses, frowns, then flips through her notes.

“Here.” She finally decides. “This entire section needs to be completely rewritten.”

You scroll to the right place on the computer screen and read it over more carefully.

“I'm pretty sure we can bullshit what you want to say here.” You murmur half to yourself. “It shouldn't be too difficult, most of the framework is here, it's just about closing the loopholes and rewording things to be less polarizing.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Claire grumps, leaning back in her chair and frowning as she crosses her arms.

You shrug.

“I bullshitted my fair share of essays, the difficult part to it is having a decent outline, which you already have.”

The other woman grumbles something under her breath before sitting up, shooing you away with a flick of her hand.

“Alright, well if it's that easy.” Her tone is disgruntled, but her fingers are already clacking against the keyboard, and you take that as your signal to return to the armchair you had been lazing about in.

At the end of the night, she drives you home again.

It becomes a routine.

For the next few months, Claire uses you as a sound board during the late hours, and you've taken to bringing either a book to read or an adult coloring book to do while you sit with her.

And then something big must have happened in her private life, because Claire is an absolute menace even to you one Monday, tearing through the office morale like a hot knife to butter.

You don't dare say a thing, even when she snaps at you later that night for being incompetent, and you just sit and take it.

She doesn't mean it personally.

You know that.

But by the time Thursday rolls around, her attitude hasn't changed, and you've found yourself retreating, becoming as small and invisible as possible in an attempt to spare yourself from Claire’s wrath.

You hear shuffling from where you're curled up on the couch, and you look up, and find Claire downing a shot, a bottle of amber liquid sitting on her desk.

“I know I've been an ass.” She says when she catches your eye.

“You've been stressed.” You excuse.

Claire shakes her head.

“There are better ways of releasing steam.”

“Well what do you usually do?”

You think this must be the first conversation all week that Claire is having civilly.

“Get high. Or have sex.”

Your mouth drops open at her blasé answer.

“And I haven't been able to do either.” She complains.

“Well, er. I could- I could help. If you wanted. To- um. To destress, I- I mean.”

You don't know why those words left your mouth, and the moment they do, you can feel your face heat up.

Sure, you've begun to have the occasional fantasy or wet dream about your boss, but that wasn't the same thing as implying you'd have sex with her.

HR is going to have a field day with you.

You're going to be fired.

You bury your face into your hands, and when Claire gently brushes her fingers against your back, you jump.

You hadn't heard her move.

“Look at me.” She softly says, and you shiver at how low her voice is pitched.

“There's a good girl.” She smiles as you listen, and the pulse of heat that shoots down your spine makes you feel dizzy.

Her hand comes up to cup your face, angling it upwards and forcing you to meet her eyes.

“Do you mean it, baby?” She asks, and you shiver at the pet-name, biting your lip as you grow more aroused. “You'll help mommy destress?”

Your eyes widen at the title Claire has bestowed upon herself, and you flush with embarrassment as the whine you've been fighting to keep down slips out through your mouth and escapes.

Your boss chuckles.

“Such a sweet thing. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, offering to stay so late with me, did you?”

You frown, confused, despite your ever growing arousal.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Claire smiles, but it's a sharp thing that causes gooseflesh to erupt along your arms.

“Please, doll. I've seen the way you look at me. And we both know how aware you are of how… Lonely, I have been.”

Her hand reaches out, and she brushes her knuckles gently against your cheek.

“Say yes.”

Her voice is pitched low, and it makes you shiver.

“Say yes to mommy, and I promise, you'll never have to worry about a thing again.”

Perhaps it should be your sign to leave right now, the possessiveness that practically drips from the governor's tone, but all it does is empty your head of thought.

“Yes.” You breathlessly say. “Yes, I'll help mommy destress.”

“Good girl.” She purrs, and when your lips part to allow a moan to tumble out, Claire gently presses against your tongue with two fingers.

When you stay still, frozen and unsure of what the older woman wants you to do, she furrows her brow and withdraws her fingers.

“Have you ever had sex before, honey?”

Immediately you can feel heat rise to your cheeks as you shake your head, shame rising in your throat.

“I- I'm a virgin.” You whisper, tripping over your words. “This is my first time…”

You trail off, embarrassed.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Claire coos, her eyes sparking with something that makes you feel a bit like her prey. “Budge over.” She says.

Mindlessly, you obey, scooting all the way down, and Claire settles back against the arm of the couch, and she lazily smiles at you as she slowly, tantalizingly spreads her legs.

You had no idea a suit skirt could stretch so much.

You had no idea how well it could hide the fact that Claire wasn't wearing any underwear either.

“Teach me how to make you feel good.” You're flooded by a sudden need to please this woman spread out before you, a sudden desire to watch her come undone because of you. “Show me how to touch you.” You beg. “Please.”

Claire chuckles deeply.

“You're going to be so perfect for me, baby.” She husks out, and you can feel how your pussy pulses, leaking wetness against the material of your underwear.

Unlike Claire, you're wearing a pair.

A niggling feeling of regret bothers you.

You wish you were easily accessible for your boss.

You want her to ruin you.

“Come here, honey.” Claire beckons you with a single finger, and you're obedient, crawling until you hover over her.

She reaches her hands up, and oh so gently cups your face with her hands, guiding your head downwards until your lips are just millimeters apart.

One of her thumbs softly brushes over your cheek, moving back and forth in a soothing sweeping motion, and her silvery-blue eyes gaze deep into your own.

The moment stretches, and you grow impatient of waiting, and despite your heart hammering against your ribcage, you close the miniscule gap between your lips and hers.

They're so fucking soft.

Claire isn't your first kiss by any means, but you deeply wish it were.

You're moaning into her mouth like you're a slut, and when Claire enters your own with her tongue, it's all you can do to keep yourself from falling atop of her as your limbs go weak.

Languidly, you make out with your boss, and as you do so, one of her knees makes its way between the apex of your thighs.

When you instinctively buck into the touch, Claire pulls away, and breathlessly laughs at you.

“Remember, doll. This is about mommy, not about you.”

Your head is spinning from the lack of oxygen.

You whimper, and bite your lip.

Her expression softens, and she reaches up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear.

“Didn't mommy say that as long as you're with me, I'll see to all your needs? Make me feel good, and I promise, you'll get a reward, sweet thing.”

You drop your head against her shoulder, and the whine that escapes you causes Claire to reach up and stroke at your hair.

“Let me show you how to touch mommy, baby. Let me show you how she likes to be pleasured.”

It's not fair, you think. No one woman should have the right to say things like that in such a husky sounding voice.

Your pussy throbs.

You lift your head up, and shift your weight, settling back so that you're straddling Claire.

“Please mommy, teach me.” You beg, and the older woman groans at the plain desperation that drips from your tone. “Teach me how to make you scream for your baby.”

At the word ‘scream’, Claire's eyes light up, something that simultaneously sends a shiver of fear through your body, but also a shiver of anticipation.

“You want to make mommy scream, doll? Get off, and I'll show you how.”

Gracelessly you tumble off of Claire and onto the floor, and she shakes her head as she laughs.

“You’re adorable, sweetheart.”

She stands, and as she walks back to her desk, she strips, carelessly leaving her clothes crumbled on the floor.

As she settles back into her leather seat, she spreads her legs wide in a clear order.

Her gaze feels intense as she watches you wobble over to her, before you collapse, dropping to your knees, your legs unable to continue to support your weight.

Your head spins as the scent of Claire’s arousal overwhelms you, and you look up at your boss with wide, pleading eyes.

She chuckles, and her hand comes down to pet your hair, before they tangle and tug at you.

“M-mommy!” You protest. “I still don't know what to do!”

Claire groans, but she doesn't stop guiding you forward.

“You're smart, doll. I'm sure you can figure it out.”

You whimper, but don't protest further, and then the older woman's cunt is directly in your face, and you're powerless as you stick your tongue out hesitantly.

You give her a taste test.

The wetness that is slowly dripping from Claire is a bit salty, but mostly, it just tastes musky.

It isn't bad.

It's just… New.

You give Claire’s pussy a few more tiny little licks, trying to acclimate to her taste, and she tightens her hold on your hair.

“I thought you wanted to make mommy scream.” She bites out, yanking you flush against her pulsing center. “So do it. Mommy needs to relax, and you're going to help.”

Helplessly, you do as Claire commands, and you start lapping at her earnestly.

When she lets out an unrestrained moan above you, you can't help but moan in return, and Claire gasps.

She yanks your head back, her chest heaving slightly, pupils blown wide.

“I never thought you could make such sweet noises, baby.” She breathlessly says.

You feel heat rushing to your face, and Claire's free hand grips your chin when you try to look away.

“Neither did I.” You whisper, ashamed.

Claire tsks.

“None of that now, honey, mommy wants to hear you again. Moan for me.”

Your mouth drops open, and your mind goes blank as you try to process your boss’s demand.

Her grip tightens.

“I said moan for me, bitch.”

It tumbles involuntarily from your mouth, loud and uncontrolled, and Claire's grip on your chin turns painfully.

“Does that turn you on? For mommy to degrade you like the little fucking slut you are?”

The noise you make in response causes Claire’s eyes to glint as she smirks.

“Who knew beneath all that innocence was a whore.” She coos, before jerking your head forward in a clear demand.

You eat her out for what feels like ages, the taste of Claire filling your senses, and you grow progressively lightheaded.

You find your thoughts slipping away as you become utterly focused on not letting one drop of your boss’s wetness to escape your tongue, and you find your hands keeping her legs spread apart as you become more eager in your ministrations.

You feel drunk as Claire begins to make higher and higher pitched noises until finally, she goes so high, it's a shrill thing that your ears can barely withstand, and there's a wetness soaking your face that isn't from how vigorously you had been pleasuring her.

She hasn't told you to stop, though, and you find yourself not wanting to regardless, so you continue to lap at her until she harshly jerks your head away.

“Enough.” She pants, eyes closed, chest heaving. “Enough.”

Your head spins, and you feel dizzy as you stare, memorized by the woman above you.

You open your mouth, aware there's something you want to ask, but you can't seem to conjure enough words in your mind to even speak them aloud.

Silvery-blue eyes open, and the most self satisfied smirk you have ever seen curls at the edges of Claire’s lips.

“How precious.” She murmurs, before sticking her heeled foot out.

You hadn't noticed that despite shedding her clothes, the older woman had kept her shoewear on.

“Why don't you make yourself feel good, and put on a pretty show for mommy, hm?”

You slowly close your mouth, becoming aware it's been hanging open, and give your boss a confused look.

Claire sighs.

“That's right, you really don't have any experience. Could have fooled me, with how well you've made me cum, doll.”

You flush, uncertain if it's from the praise or from the degradation.

You watch as Claire carefully stands, and you're startled when she hisses, her left leg buckling from how loose and relaxed her muscles have become.

“Strip.” Claire orders, her knuckles white from how hard she's clutching at her desk. “And then lay back on the couch.”

You scramble, tugging your shirt off as you simultaneously attempt to undo the button of your pants, and you wind up tripping, falling to the floor.

Claire's laughter causes your face to heat up.

“Looks like my baby needs my help, hm?” She giggles, toeing off her heels so that she can walk properly.

You whine, and can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with embarrassment.

“Aw, sweetheart.” Claire pouts. “Mommy thinks you're cute for being so eager. No need to be so sad over it.”

You whine again, but slowly force yourself to sit up.

“Mommy.” You whimper. “Jus’ wanted to feel good.”

The older woman’s amused expression visibly softens, and warm hands reach for you.

You stand with Claire's help, and she almost reverently helps you undress, gently kissing each newly revealed piece of skin.

“Look at this beautiful body, honey. Just so perfect for me.”

Unable to bear the compliment, you choose instead to bury your head against the upper part of Claire's chest.

She coos, and runs her fingers through your hair.

“Oh, sweet thing. Is my baby feeling shy?”

You nod against her, noticing the soft smell of vanilla.

You've never noticed it before.

You had thought it was maybe the air refresher in Claire's office, but no.

It's her.

Your head spins.

And you're so wet.

Claire's laugh rumbles against you, and she easily guides you towards the couch.

You only grow steadily redder as she pulls your legs apart, kissing her way up from one ankle, and then kisses her way back down the other, over and over until you're squirming with your need.

“Mommy, please!” You cry.

Claire groans, eyes fluttering shut for a few moments, before she pulls you close, hooking your legs over her shoulders.

When she noses at your clit, your hands find her hair, and she tsks.

“No, doll. I won't reward you if you pull at my hair.”

Reluctantly, you release your grip, and bury your fingers against the cushion of the couch instead.

“Good girl.” Claire praises, and you moan softly in response.

When her tongue presses against you, you shudder at the new sensation.

It's wet and warm and slightly rough, and–

“Oh, fuck!” You cry out. “Fuck, mommy!”

Claire's hands harshly grip at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you whimper, but she continues to lavish her tongue over your clit, and you begin to squirm in earnest.

You've masterbated plenty of times, and have a few toys in your bedside drawer, but that is nothing compared to the older woman’s touch.

Within a few minutes, you're already near orgasm, and you chase the release, fighting the urge to bring your hands back up to tangle into Claire's hair.

And then right when you're about to reach that high, the moment before the waves of pleasure can overwhelm you, she pulls away, and you loudly sob.

“No, please.” You gasp.

Claire smirks, and you whimper at how lustful her gaze is, at how your wetness glistens on the bottom half of her face.

“You want to cum, baby?” She mocks you, pouting. “You want mommy to let you feel good? Then beg for it. I need to hear my cute little doll ask for permission first.”

You whimper.

“Please, mommy.” You can feel tears start to gather with how badly you want this. “Please let your baby cum, I wanna cum for you, I wanna feel good, please, please, please!”

“Hm…” Claire hums.

“Please.” The tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I wanna to cum, mommy. I want you to make me cum, please.”

You let out a sob of desperation when a single digit finds your swollen clit, and lightly begins to circle it.

“Please.” You whisper, your voice getting caught in your throat.

For a moment, you think your boss is going to deny you, and you open your mouth to continue to beg, when instead you gasp, two of Claire’s fingers suddenly stretching you open.

You let out a high pitch noise when she curls the digits, pleasure burning through you, and you buck your hips.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” You chant, unable to form any other thought, let alone words.

“Cum for me, princess.” Claire softly orders, and as if your body was designed to obey her every desire, you convulse, a scream tearing it's way from your throat as she continues to finger fuck you, the gushing wetness weeping from your pussy causing a squelching noise, and you writhe as you ride the high.

“Fuck, baby.” Claire groans. “I want you to come for me again.”

You squirm desperately, the aftershocks still pulsing through you, but Claire is stronger than your now limp body, and she thumbs at your clit, sending electric waves up your spine, causing your back to arch painfully.

“FUCK!” You cry out, unable to control your volume, and you can barely hear Claire's responding moan over the static in your ears as a new wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

You're gasping for air with how it steals your breath away, and when Claire collapses on top of you, you gladly welcome it, despite how it further suffocates your lungs of oxygen.

She smells so good. You think as you start to come back to your senses.

The scent of vanilla is still prominent, but it's now mixed with the smell of Claire’s sweat.

Somehow, it's more appealing.

The smell of sex still hangs heavy in the air, and you throb as your body unfairly grows more aroused again.

“Mommy.” You whisper.

Claire groans, burying her head further against your neck.

“You smell so good, princess.” She says. “And you look so beautiful when I fuck your brains out.”

A whimper catches in the back of your throat.

Claire finally moves, shifting until she's sitting upright, and you don't think she's ever looked as enthralling as does now.

Her cheeks are flushed, and you can clearly see faint freckles that are usually hidden under a layer of makeup that Claire must have sweated off, and her hair has gone from stick straight to gentle waves, a halo of frizz framing her face.

You lose yourself in her eyes, at how she smiles so tenderly as she helps you up and to the private attached bathroom in her office.

“Let's get cleaned up, doll.” She says, and you grin goofily at her.

Your head is still spinning.

She giggles, a light sound that makes you join in once a light snort causes her to double over.

“You're so cute.” She smiles, and you obediently spread your legs when she taps your thigh.

She gently runs the wash cloth in her hand over the sticky residue of your arousal, and you flinch every time she passes over your clit.

“You’re still so sensitive.” She breathes out. “Did mommy not satisfy you, doll? Do you want mommy to keep going until it hurts for me to?”

“I- ah!” You cry out when Claire firmly swipes the cloth over your swollen bud. “I just want to be good.”

Claire peers up at you, and you hold your breath as she weighs your words.

“Next time then, maybe.” She decides, and you aren't sure if your shoulders slump with relief or disappointment.

She finishes cleaning you up, before moving on to herself, telling you to wait as she does so.

You watch as her back muscles move with her motions, and you can't resist the urge to kiss them, to nip at them.

Who knew the governor would have such fairly well defined muscles?

“Baby.” Claire warns.

“Mmm… Mommy.” You reply, before darting the tip of your tongue out against her warm skin.

“Baby, if you want to go home, you'll stop.”

“But you're so pretty. I can't help it.”

Claire turns around, shaking her head.

“You're adorable, honey. Come on, let's get dressed so we can head home.”

Claire has to help you into your shirt and pants, and you don't notice when she pockets your underwear instead of giving it back to you when she spots it under the couch.

Before you leave, your boss insists on watching you drink a glass of water, predicting you'll be too tired to do so once she drops you off at home, expressing how important it is to her that you take care of yourself.

By the time you get to her car, you're stumbling with exhaustion, beginning to crash as the endorphin high wears off.

You can't keep your eyes open once she starts driving, and when you let out a huge yawn, Claire glances at you.

“Go to sleep, baby.” She soothingly says. “I'll wake you up when we get home.”

You're used to listening when she asks you of something, and so you don't think twice as you finally allow your eyes to stay close, and you drift off, Claire's warm hand on your thigh.

[motherfuckingmaneater]

Tell us more about Lord Voldemort. Things Bella knows that no one else does!

Goodness me, sorry it’s taken me so long to answer this! I’ve made these less usfw because the last ones were usfw af lmao.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   He needs silence in the mornings — and at most times. He likes sitting in silence in her company or engaging in little bouts of conversation. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he has an exceptionally vast knowledge of magic. Far beyond dark magic. This may seem obvious, but his knowledge even goes as far as to understand how magic impacts the magical body. For instance, when she was 23 and she suffered a miscarriage, he was the one to realise the initial symptoms. She had been struck by a contusion hex and her symptoms were off from what that would normally entail. She was in the kind of pain she hadn’t been before and he recognised that even before she did. By no means is he a healer, but he knew exactly what she needed in that situation and was able to give it to her. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   the sound of rainfall on trees soothes him. Often on the balcony of his wing he’ll sit and listen to heavy thunderstorms. He resonates with lightning and thunder, they speak to his fractured soul. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he wakes soon after dawn most mornings, even when he’s exhausted. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he’s absolutely touch starved. He refuses to be touched by anyone else but if Bellatrix runs her hands through his hair while they’re in bed together he always groans and demands more. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he only ever does it when they’re alone but he likes sharing a cup of tea with her sometimes in the afternoon. There’s no sense to it, she asked him a few times before if she should get him his own and he just says no and sips at hers whilst he’s sat beside her reading his book. She’s stopped asking now, if she has a cup in her hand she’ll hold it in a way he can take it and sip it when he likes. It’s just something he enjoys and she does too. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   blood magic is his least favourite kind of magic. It reminds him his blood is shared with a filthy muggle and he’s desperately tried to erase that part of himself for so long now. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he can’t hold his liquor. She can go through three glasses of champagne and be only a little buzzed but he can’t handle more than two at absolute most. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he enjoys having dinner with the Black family every other Sunday afternoon. None of them simper or bow but they do speak to him with reverence and believe in him very thoroughly. He enjoys it so much in fact that now it’s only Bellatrix and himself who are invited, not Rodolphus. He enjoys watching her be herself with her family, the scoffing eye-rolling teenage witch she once was comes right back out without apology, even when they’re taking Delphini to those dinners. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   his real laugh is not high or cold. It’s genuine, uninhibited and low in baritone — he has an infectious laugh.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he very rarely looks carefully at his face in the mirror. He’ll look at himself to shave but he tends not to focus on his face, he usually focusses on his robes and how they fall, or his hair. As his features began changing however, he stopped minding how he looked and started paying more attention.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he loves being at heights. His wing of the manor is at the very top.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he’s a surprisingly patient father. With anyone else (Bella semi-included) he isn’t patient, but with Delphini he seems to be able to centre both himself and her, even when she’s an infant / toddler. He takes no BS however and she catches on quickly that emotions don’t work with him, but he’s exceptionally patient, calm and speaks to her on her level. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   his favourite books are about history, about warfare and about art. He despises fiction — but Bellatrix loves it. They never have to worry about who is reading which book. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he very rarely smiles so no one can see it, but when he’s laughing (genuinely) Bellatrix can see he has a very slight dimple in his right cheek. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he’s a very light sleeper. Between the two of them he’s usually last to fall asleep and first to wake.

[power-chords]

My mother was a copyeditor for the Times for 33 years so I benefit from a subscription. They send out a weekly newsletter on Monday mornings and this one felt important to share. So I am copying and pasting here, inclusive of links and diagrams:

Good morning. Many vaccine skeptics have since changed their minds and gotten shots. Here’s why.

How to persuade

When the Kaiser Family Foundation conducted a poll at the start of the year and asked American adults whether they planned to get vaccinated, 23 percent said no.

But a significant portion of that group — about one quarter of it — has since decided to receive a shot. The Kaiser pollsters recently followed up and asked these converts what led them to change their minds. The answers are important, because they offer insight into how the millions of still unvaccinated Americans might be persuaded to get shots, too.

First, a little background: A few weeks ago, it seemed plausible that Covid-19 might be in permanent retreat, at least in communities with high vaccination rates. But the Delta variant has changed the situation. The number of cases is rising in all 50 states.

Although vaccinated people remain almost guaranteed to avoid serious symptoms, Delta has put the unvaccinated at greater risk of contracting the virus — and, by extension, of hospitalization and death. The Covid death rate in recent days has been significantly higher in states with low vaccination rates than in those with higher rates:

(For more detailed state-level charts, see this piece by my colleagues Lauren Leatherby and Amy Schoenfeld Walker. The same pattern is evident at the county level, as the health policy expert Charles Gaba has been explaining on Twitter.)

Nationwide, more than 99 percent of recent deaths have occurred among unvaccinated people, and more than 97 percent of recent hospitalizations have occurred among the unvaccinated, according to the C.D.C. “Look,” President Biden said on Friday, “the only pandemic we have is among the unvaccinated.”

The three themes

What helps move people from vaccine skeptical to vaccinated? The Kaiser polls point to three main themes.

(The themes apply to both the 23 percent of people who said they would not get a shot, as well as to the 28 percent who described their attitude in January as “wait and see.” About half of the “wait and see” group has since gotten a shot.)

1. Seeing that millions of other Americans have been safely vaccinated.

Consider these quotes from Kaiser’s interviews:

“It was clearly safe. No one was dying.” — a 32-year-old white Republican man in South Carolina

“I went to visit my family members in another state and everyone there had been vaccinated with no problems.” — a 63-year-old Black independent man in Texas

“Almost all of my friends were vaccinated with no side effects.” — a 64-year-old Black Democratic woman in Tennessee

This suggests that emphasizing the safety of the vaccines — rather than just the danger of Covid, as many experts (and this newsletter) typically do — may help persuade more people to get a shot.

A poll of vaccine skeptics by Echelon Insights, a Republican firm, points to a similar conclusion. One of the most persuasive messages, the skeptics said, was hearing that people have been getting the vaccine for months and it is ���working very well without any major issues.”

2. Hearing pro-vaccine messages from doctors, friends and relatives.

For many people who got vaccinated, messages from politicians, national experts and the mass media were persuasive. But many other Americans — especially those without a college degree — don’t trust mainstream institutions. For them, hearing directly from people they know can have a bigger impact.

“Hearing from experts,” as Mollyann Brodie, who oversees the Kaiser polls, told me, “isn’t the same as watching those around you or in your house actually go through the vaccination process.”

Here are more Kaiser interviews:

“My daughter is a doctor and she got vaccinated, which was reassuring that it was OK to get vaccinated.” — a 64-year-old Asian Democratic woman in Texas

“Friends and family talked me into it, as did my place of employment.” — a 28-year-old white independent man in Virginia

“My husband bugged me to get it and I gave in.” — a 42-year-old white Republican woman in Indiana

“I was told by my doctor that she strongly recommend I get the vaccine because I have diabetes.” — a 47-year-old white Republican woman in Florida

These comments suggest that continued grass-roots campaigns may have a bigger effect at this stage than public-service ad campaigns. The one exception to that may be prominent figures from groups that still have higher vaccine skepticism, like Republican politicians and Black community leaders.

3. Learning that not being vaccinated will prevent people from doing some things.

There is now a roiling debate over vaccine mandates, with some hospitals, colleges, cruise-ship companies and others implementing them — and some state legislators trying to ban mandates. The Kaiser poll suggests that these requirements can influence a meaningful number of skeptics to get shots, sometimes just for logistical reasons.

“Hearing that the travel quarantine restrictions would be lifted for those people that are vaccinated was a major reason for my change of thought.” — a 43-year-old Black Democratic man in Virginia

“To see events or visit some restaurants, it was easier to be vaccinated.” — a 39-year-old white independent man in New Jersey

“Bahamas trip required a COVID shot.” — a 43-year-old Hispanic independent man in Pennsylvania

[nyctophilin]

Stay Winning

@txtmoalove​⤀ Hey! As for my first request here , can I request a Felix smut? Something that'll include voice kink for his deep voice? 🥺 Maybe even an enemies to lover's au! I hope it's not too much !! 💕

Description⤀  He was always making remarks about her and making fun of her work. He was speculating about how her work was always chosen as the best and was creating rumors. She despised him. Or did she?

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing⤀ Felix x fem!Reader

Word count⤀ 3k

Genre⤀ Office!AU, Enemies to lovers, Smut, Angst(?)

Warnings⤀ dom!felix, grinding, fingering, spanking, unprotected penetration, spelling/grammar mistakes 

Pearl Note⤀ This was so fun to write. I really hope you like it! Please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think!

      “This concludes our meeting today. I’ll see everyone again on Wednesday at the same hour. Mrs L/N and Mr Lee I want you both to present your ideas and we will see which we can choose or if we have to combine them. Have a good day everyone!” Mr Bang spoke as he got up from his chair and left the room to go to his next meeting. Everyone else started gathering their things right after the CEO left and a general bustle settled in the room. Disturbing screeching sounds were made by the pushed chairs of the people who hurriedly wanted to reach either the cafeteria or their cubicles to get some more work done.

      Y/N wasn’t in a hurry like everyone else. She gathered her things calmly and was the last to leave the meeting room carelessly making her way towards her cubicle to leave the unnecessary things there before going for lunch. The clicking of her hills could be heard every time she stepped on the marble floors. Upon reaching her destination she left everything on the desk and took her purse with her.

      She walked up to another cubicle and used her knuckles to knock on the plastic walls. The raven-haired man lifted his eyes from the manuscript he was currently trying to check and a smile coated his facial features at the sight of her. “Can I steal you from your work for half an hour so we can eat? I’m paying.” She brought her purse to the same level as her face as further reassurance to the man that she meant what she said.

      “I thought you’ll never ask. I was starving there!” The man got up from his chair abandoning his files on the desk and put one arm around her shoulders. “Lead the way, Ma’am!” Y/N chuckled at his childish gesture and they both started walking towards the cafeteria. “How did the meeting go?” The man asked when they sat down at a table in the busy room.

      “It went well. Mr Kang is really excited to work with us and he thinks that everything will turn out great.” She hummed satisfied after taking a bite from her food. She will always be grateful to Mr Bang for choosing to actually give a shit about his employee’s health. Immediately after a bittersweet taste let itself in her mouth. “I have to work against Felix for marketing though. Mr Bang said he’ll choose whichever he likes best so I have to work hard to beat that loser.” She was squeezing the chopsticks in her hand at the thought of him.

      “Why does it matter that much? It’s not like there are infinite ways to market a book and Mr Bang seems to be fond of your work. If he wins once what is so bad about that?” Y/N sighed at her friend’s naive statement.

      “Jeongin, let’s say you are in a really good soccer team and you always win. Would you let the other team win once just because you did so many times before? If I purposely don’t do a good job right now, Mr Bang might think that my skills are not as good anymore which might result in me getting fewer opportunities to work on books that I really like. Plus that little shit is always trying to pick a fight with me.” She rolled her eyes when she remembered the kind of treatment she gets from her superior.

      “You always say that. What does he even say that get you so worked up all the time?” Jeongin’s question was a genuine one. He has worked at the publishing company for over two years now and ever since Y/N has started working there a year and a half ago he can’t remember one time when the two weren’t at each other’s throats. At first, he thought the rivalry between the two was because they both had the same job and it was normal for them to want they work to get chosen but then he realised that it was more than that.

      “He always looks down on me and thinks that just because he is older and has been working there longer his ideas should be chosen more often. ‘Even a kindergarten student could think of that.’, ‘He chose you just as an encouragement.’, ‘Maybe if I also had a short skirt Mr Bang would choose me as well.’...”

      “Don’t forget about the cleavage.” A deep voice suddenly ringed in her ear making her jump in surprise. She immediately turned her head in that direction and her nose was only one centimetre away from Felix’s nose.

      “What?” This is all she could say since she was still shaken by his deep voice in her ear.

      Felix got up from his bent position and a smirk tugged at his lips when he realised the effect his sudden appearance had on her. “I also say about the cleavage. I’m pretty sure that if I had boobs I’ll get just as many deals as you.” His eyes travelled from her face down to where her shirt had the first two buttons undone. He visibly licked his lips at the sight before looking back at her eyes and winking.

      His eyes made her uncomfortable but she stood her ground and rolled her eyes back at his gesture. “Oh sweety, it’s so funny that this is what you tell yourself to feel better about your failure. We both know that Mr Bang doesn’t do this kind of thing. And unlike you, he does not need to get on my good side. I’d fuck him even if he was choosing your work.” A fake smile was painting her lips as she finished talking. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish eating so I can go back to making a better marketing strategy than yours.” She turned back towards Jeongin and continued eating her food.

      As she heard his steps getting farther away from her she let out a breath she was holding in for a long time. She hated the way his voice affected her. He might be an asshole but damn he had a nice voice. She ignored the moist feeling that started forming between her legs and continued talking with Jeongin about different topics the rest of their lunch break.

      Y/N let out a sigh and rubbed the back of her neck trying to ease the pain she was feeling. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to calm the burning sensation from looking at the computer screen for too long. It was currently 11:36 PM on a Tuesday and she was still in the office. For the last couple of days, she didn’t have enough inspiration to work on a marketing strategy for Mr Kang’s book that would satisfy her so she just did something lousy in order not to show up with nothing. An hour prior, however, she got a really good idea and she had to stay over program to do it.

      She was pretty sure there wasn’t anyone else in the office with her at that hour and if there was they were far away from her and awfully quiet. She stretched her tired arms moaning at the pleasurable sensation of tension leaving her body after a long time. She leaned back on her leather chair deciding to take a short break from work for a few minutes. She kicked her stiletto’s off her feet letting another moan leave her lips at the free sensation. She really hated hills for always making her uncomfortable and hurting her feet.

      She closed her eyes and started humming a calming melody while trying to relax both her brain and her body. “I see that you are enjoying yourself.” The same deep voice that annoyed and turned her on so much was heard in the room and she opened her eyes with an exasperated sigh.

      “What are you doing here?” She questioned him as she turned her chair towards the door of her cubicle.

      “I heard you moaning and I told myself that it is impossible for sweet perfect Y/N to be masturbating on the job. The second time I had to come check it myself.” Y/N rolled her eyes and looked to the side sucking her cheeks in. She absolutely despised the way his voice could soak her and his words could make her want to stab him with a pencil.

      “Are you serious right now? That’s low even for you.” She was so done with his bullshit.

      “You are right. It would have been more logic to think that you were in here with Mr Bang. I doubt he would take you to his house.” She rolled her eyes at his words before getting up abruptly.

      “You know that you are really pathetic? Just because someone else took something YOU think you deserve that doesn’t mean they did something unethical to obtain it. I don’t care what you think about me as a person but. Don’t. Insult. My. Work!” She was now right in front of him and she pushed her index finger against his chest when she said the last few words. “You are 23 years old and you behave like a pre-teen. Making comments about my work and the way I talk and my clothes. Do my clothes bother you in any way?”

      Y/N lets out a yelp as Felix picks her up and carries her to her desk and harshly puts her down, definitely making some of the papers on it to wrinkle. He leaves a trail of kisses from her jaw to her ear before speaking. “Do your clothes bother me? They sure as hell do, darling! How do you think I feel every time I see your thigh ass in one of your pencil skirts or when you have your boobs out for everyone to see?” His deep voice was vibrating in her ear making an involuntary moan leave her mouth. Her private parts already started becoming wet and that was just from a few words from him.

      She tried freeing herself from his grip wanting to escape from that embarrassing situation. Her pathetic attempts only stirred Felix more and a sound resembling a growl left his throat. The sound went right through her cunt and she pushed her thighs together while throwing her head back and letting a groan out. Felix raised an eyebrow as he looked at her ecstatic form. He let another groan out and when he noticed the way her body jolted a smirk appeared on his face.

      “Do you like my voice darling? Does it turn you on? Is this why you always get flustered every time we fight?” His voice went an octave lower if that was possible and Y/N smashed their lips together taking the male by surprise. She desperately pushed her tongue into his mouth wanting nothing more than to shut him up so she can regain her composure.

      Y/N backed away leaving his lips for only a second before he forced her back into the kiss. With one hand he grabbed her thigh and yanked her towards him pressing their hips together and tilted her back more. The contact of her drenched pussy with his already erect shaft had her bucking her hips against him. A delicious groan left his lips and Y/N whimpered into the kiss repeating her action.

      Fed up with her actions Felix pushed her to lay on the desk, the sudden contact with the wooden surface making the oxygen leave her lungs for a few seconds. His hand made its way up her inner thigh until it reached her dripping core. Upon feeling her wetness through her panties a smirk appeared on his face. “Fuck, you are already so wet, darling. And all from my voice, just like a slut.” She whimpered at his words and bucked her hips into his hands desperately needing to feel any sort of relieve.

      A loud noise echoed through the empty office as his hand smacked her thigh in an attempt to make her stop moving. “Now darling, stay put or I won’t touch you!”

      “Fuck you!” She spit taking one of her hands and placing it over her clothed heat. If he won’t help her then she will do it herself.

      “Oh darling, trust me. I will!” Felix harshly yanked her hand from her sensitive parts and in a swift motion, he stripped her of her panties. His touches were feather-like as he explored her cunt for the first time. He felt his dick jolt at how wet she was and without warning pushed two digits inside her. Y/N let out a surprised yelp both her hands instantly grabbing his and her back arching dramatically. “Fuck, I wish you could see the way your pussy swallows my fingers so eagerly. Can’t wait to get my dick in there.” His voice was raspy and a pleasurable shiver crossed her body.

      “Maybe if you stopped fucking talking we would actually get there.” She was moving her hips on her own making his fingers go in and out of her dripping pussy. A dark aura enveloped him at her words and he started pumping his fingers at an impossibly fast pace. Breathy moans and occasional groans were leaving her mouth as she struggled not to squirm around too much.

      Y/N could feel a knot forming in her stomach and she started moving her hips in time with Felix’s hand. Feeling her cunt squeeze his fingers desperately he caught on the fact that she was close and he removed his fingers from inside her at once.

      “You asshole! Why did you…” She couldn’t finish her sentence cause Felix flipped her over pushing her face into the desk.

      “Did you really think I would let you cum on my fingers after you cried for my dick like a slut? You better stop complaining and take what I give you.” She heard how he unbuckled his belt and the faint sound of a zipper before feeling his head slide over her moist lips. Felix bent down over her and inserted his shaft in slowly giving her time to get used to his girth. He let out delicious groans as he felt her tight cunt squeeze around him and her sense went in overdrive from him groaning in her ear.

      His dick stretched her perfectly and she bit her bottom lip suppressing a moan. When he bottomed inside her, he stilled for a few moments under the pretext of giving her time to adjust to him but in reality, he was afraid that if he moved he’ll come instantly just like a teenage boy having sex for the first time. Soon after Y/N tapped his hand urging him to start moving. He started moving slowly, savouring every moment he was inside of her.

      Moving his hands in front of her, he ripped open her shirt somehow managing not to bust any buttons. He pulled her bra down and pinched her erect nipples adding on to her pleasure. His trusts became more urgent and he smacked her right boob ripping a moan out of her. He moved her hips in sync with his, meeting him halfway. She could feel the knot forming again in her stomach and she grabbed the edge of the desk for support.

      “Felix, I’m cuming!” Y/N managed to breathe out between moans.

      Felix moved his hand to her clit and started circling it frantically bringing her closer to her release. “Cum darling!” The ringing of his voice in her ear tipped her over the edge and she released with a loud moan that she was sure could be heard from a few blocks away.

      Felix quickened his pace chasing his own high and overstimulating her at the same time. Y/N’s cunt was squeezing him so heavenly that he thrusted a few more times before pulling out and releasing on her ass. The office was filled with their heavy breaths as they both tried coming down from their highs.

      “Y/N, what are you doing here?” Jeongin gave her a concerned look, confusion present on his face.

      “What am I doing in my own cubicle?” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she turned around in her chair to look at him.

      “No, I mean what are you doing here now? Didn’t the meeting for the marketing strategy started 48 minutes ago?” His eyebrows were furrowed and he checked his watch a few times in a row to make sure that he was correct.

      “I told Mr Bang that I came up with no idea and I would rather not take part in the meeting. Plus they have Felix there, it’s not like they actually need me if I got nothing.” She said that nonchalantly turning back on her chair to resume her previous activity.

      “Why would y…”

      Before the man could finish his sentence Felix stormed inside and went to hug Y/N tightly. “Thank you so much, darling! Mr Bang loved the idea. I promise I will make it up to you. Now I have to go. We have a meeting with Mr Kang to present the strategy to him. Love you!” The man cupped her face and placed a tender kiss on her lips before hurriedly getting out and completely ignoring Jeongin.

      Y/N turned her head towards the entrance of the cubicle and noticed how Jeongin was leaning against the plastic wall, hands crossed and a smirk on his lips. She bit her bottom lip before gulping visibly.

      “So tell me Y/N, what was that thing with the soccer team?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

      “Oh, please! Like I actually know anything about soccer!”

[96thdayofrage]

Rural Americans are dying of Covid at more than twice the rate of their urban counterparts — a divide that health experts say is likely to widen as access to medical care shrinks for a population that tends to be older, sicker, heavier, poorer, and less vaccinated.

While the initial surge of Covid-19 deaths skipped over much of rural America — where roughly 15 percent of Americans live — nonmetropolitan mortality rates quickly started to outpace those of metropolitan areas as the virus spread nationwide before vaccinations became available, according to data from the Rural Policy Research Institute.

Since the pandemic began, about 1 in 434 rural Americans have died of Covid, compared with roughly 1 in 513 urban Americans, the institute’s data show. And though vaccines have reduced overall Covid death rates since the winter peak, rural mortality rates are now more than double urban rates — and accelerating quickly.

In rural northeastern Texas, Titus Regional Medical Center CEO Terry Scoggin is grappling with a 39 percent vaccination rate in his community. Eleven patients died of Covid in the first half of September at his hospital in Mount Pleasant, population 16,000. Typically, three or four non-hospice patients die there in an entire month.

“We don’t see death like that,” Scoggin said. “You usually don’t see your friends and neighbors die.”

Part of the problem is that Covid incidence rates in September were roughly 54 percent higher in rural areas than elsewhere, said Fred Ullrich, a University of Iowa College of Public Health research analyst who coauthored the institute’s report. He said the analysis compared the rates of nonmetropolitan, or rural, areas and metropolitan, or urban, areas. In 39 states, he added, rural counties had higher rates of Covid than their urban counterparts.

“There is a national disconnect between perception and reality when it comes to Covid in rural America,” said Alan Morgan, head of the National Rural Health Association. “We’ve turned many rural communities into kill boxes. And there’s no movement towards addressing what we’re seeing in many of these communities, either among the public or among governing officials.”

Still, the high incidence of cases and low vaccination rates don’t fully capture why mortality rates are so much higher in rural areas than elsewhere. Academics and officials alike describe rural Americans’ greater rates of poor health and their limited options for medical care as a deadly combination. The pressures of the pandemic have compounded the problem by deepening staffing shortages at hospitals, creating a cycle of worsening access to care.

It’s the latest example of the deadly coronavirus wreaking more havoc in some communities than others. Covid has also killed Native American, Black, and Hispanic people at disproportionately high rates.

Vaccinations are the most effective way to prevent Covid infections from turning deadly. Roughly 41 percent of rural America was vaccinated as of Sept. 23, compared with about 53 percent of urban America, according to an analysis by the Daily Yonder, a newsroom covering rural America. Limited supplies and low access made shots hard to get in far-flung regions at first, but officials and academics now blame vaccine hesitancy, misinformation, and politics for the low vaccination rates.

In hard-hit southwestern Missouri, for example, 26 percent of Newton County’s residents were fully vaccinated as of Sept. 27. The health department has held raffles and vaccine clinics, advertised in the local newspaper, and even driven the vaccine to those lacking transportation in remote areas, according to department administrator Larry Bergner. But he said interest in the shots typically increases only after someone dies or gets seriously ill within a hesitant person’s social circle.

Additionally, the overload of Covid patients in hospitals has undermined a basic tenet of rural healthcare infrastructure: the capability to transfer patients out of rural hospitals to higher levels of specialty care at regional or urban health centers.

“We literally have email Listservs of rural chief nursing officers or rural CEOs sending up an SOS to the group, saying, ‘We’ve called 60 or 70 hospitals and can’t get this heart attack or stroke patient or surgical patient out, and they’re going to get septic and die if it goes on much longer,’ ” said John Henderson, president and CEO of the Texas Organization of Rural & Community Hospitals.

Morgan said he can’t count how many people have talked to him about the transfer problem. “It’s crazy, just crazy. It’s unacceptable,” he said. “From what I’m seeing, that mortality gap is accelerating.”

Access to medical care has long bedeviled swaths of rural America — since 2005, 181 rural hospitals have closed. A 2020 Kaiser Health News analysis found that more than half of U.S. counties, many of them largely rural, don’t have a hospital with intensive care unit beds.

Pre-pandemic, rural Americans had 20 percent higher overall death rates than those who live in urban areas, due to their lower rates of insurance, higher rates of poverty, and more limited access to healthcare, according to 2019 data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s National Center for Health Statistics.

In southeastern Missouri’s Ripley County, the local hospital closed in 2018. As of Sept. 27, only 24 percent of residents were fully vaccinated against Covid. Due to a recent crush of cases, Covid patients are getting sent home from emergency rooms in surrounding counties if they’re not “severely bad,” health department director Tammy Cosgrove said.

The nursing shortage hitting the country is particularly dire in rural areas, which have less money than large hospitals to pay the exorbitant fees travel nursing agencies are demanding. And as nursing temp agencies offer hospital staffers more cash to join their teams, many rural nurses are jumping ship. One of Scoggin’s nurses told him she had to take a travel job — she could pay off all her debt in three months with that kind of money.

And then there’s the burnout of working for over a year and a half through the pandemic. Audrey Snyder, the immediate past president of the Rural Nurse Organization, said she’s lost count of how many nurses have told her they’re quitting. Those resignations feed into a relentless cycle: As travel nurse companies attract more nurses, the nurses left behind shouldering their work become more burned out — and eventually quit. While this is true at hospitals of all types, the effects in hard-to-staff rural hospitals can be especially dire.

Rural health officials fear the staffing shortages could be exacerbated by vaccination mandates promised by President Biden, which they say could cause a wave of resignations the hospitals cannot afford. About half of Scoggin’s staff, for example, is unvaccinated.

Snyder warned that nursing shortages and their high associated costs will become unsustainable for rural hospitals operating on razor-thin margins. She predicted a new wave of rural hospital closures will further drive up the dire mortality numbers.

Staffing shortages already limit how many beds hospitals can use, Scoggin said. He estimated that most hospitals in Texas, including his own, are operating at roughly two-thirds of their bed capacity. His emergency room is so swamped, he’s had to send a few patients home to be monitored daily by an ambulance team.

[skittles1229]

Old Expectations Die Hard (Dashie x Reader Fanfic)

Chapter One: Weird Circumstances

You know your life is complicated when the friend you always complain to says "you never have a dull moment do you?" I sigh as the weight of the world seems to make it impossible to breath. You see recently things have been rough. I lost my job and my fiance all in the same day, that itself was an unbelievable story. I was so upset and strung out on thoughts of what to do that once i got home early from work i didn't notice the extra car in the driveway. i stepped into my home and my own floors felt as if they'd given way when i saw the guy i thought i'd be spending my life with in bed, with my sister... my sister and i hadn't been on good terms for a while and for a good reason! The drugs she took either made her unreliable and selfish or crazy and murderous. He, of course, pulled the its not what you think, id never hurt you, it was a mistake, and honestly i could write a book out of the excuses i heard in the time of two minutes but maybe another time. Needless to say i left. I never thought about going back and to be honest my sister looked more hurt then i was. I took a job in California a few weeks ago and moved in with my friend (BFF Name). They always seemed to know what to say and honestly i truly believe They  knew me better then i know myself. 

California gave me the biggest culture shock I've ever had. I came from Mississippi, the bible belt and the most rural part of the world. California was sooooo different then what i was use to. The weather is awesome. There's lots of jobs for technical people, at least until you're 45 and then you're considered ancient and you can't possibly know anything when some 23-year old out of Stanford tells you that they know it all. (a little bit of sarcasm there) It's a great place to start a new company, money is available as is talent. The risk of starting a company is lower since you can always find a new job The politics are insane, if you aren't towing the progressive party line you should just STFU. If you even once say that Trump has done something positive, or that Obama did something negative prepare for the wrath. Read the stuff behind the recently filed lawsuit against google for a taste of what it's like. Seriously, don't say a word. The state if structurally bankrupt, although the finances look good because so much stuff is off of the balance sheet. The public pension liability dwarfs the "good" part of the budget, and some day it is coming home to roost. Watch out when it does. The cost of living is absurd, really absurd. I'm not talking just a place to live but gas, electricity, haircuts, milk, pizza, you name it. The traffic is absurd too. (can you tell i like the word absurd) The public transit, although usually on time, is a mess. People are pigs, they throw trash everywhere, the cars are overcrowded almost all the time. 

I've got to say, from how much it sounds like i hate California, i actually don't.  Mainly because its so far away from my original family, leaving really helped me start to grow up and feel like maybe i was getting a hold of my life again. Only problem has been getting to my new job on time. I work as a barista and a waitress at a brunch place a good minute away from the apartment. The money is good, otherwise i wouldn't waste my time with the commute everyday. i keep being late to work because i still haven't adjusted to how terrible traffic is and so my boss was "nice" enough to switch me to the later shifts. The hours are long and boring because my shift starts in the middle of rush hour to the slowest hours at the end of the day meaning you have to find things to keep yourself busy with. the only good thing is, we can wear pretty much anything we want as long as its black. all i wear is dark colors so i didn't have to spend any extra money on a uniform and i didn't have to wear the same thing everyday. Today i decided i wear a v-neck shirt that with an emperor waist (body forming) with black skinny jeans and my regular converse. i decided against driving to work and decided it would be far smarter to catch a bus to the nearest destination. My (hair color) hair was done is a fishtail messy braid, i always liked this style because it made me look like i had a head full of hair when in reality i thought i was going bald. 

My personality was a little odd, you see some days i felt like the beautiful nerd who has no confidence and wants to hide away in a hole. other days i feel like a model from Victoria secrets, of course those are the days i get the most tips. today was honestly a mutual day, where id rather be at home in my bed asleep, or listening to music. The bus finally stopped a block away from my job and i sighed obviously not wanting to go into work. surprisingly there wasn't nearly  as many cars as there usually is around this time but i wasn't complaining. i walk in to see that most of the downstairs was empty but whoever was upstairs definitely had a loud mouth. i walk to the back in order to clock in and i bump into melany ( the girl im shifting with). "wow you actually got here on time! Maybe the boss's mood will cheer up." i huffed a little. "yea, i dont know why i thought id need a car in California, say whats with the low level of customers? its NEVER this slow." she looked at me in disdain, "some guys reserved the entire upstairs and we had to make this huge table out of all our tables up there, glad im not gonna be the one fixing it later." i rolled my eyes, i hated when a huge family came in and they just had to move everything around because little johnny wants the sit next to suzzie and suzzie HAS to sit by her parents bc she likes to throw her food on the floor, all fake names but a real situation ive been in before. "well have they at least been fed so that i only have to clean up after them?" she shook her head while hanging up her apron. "nope, they've only ordered their drinks and they are getting those onto trays now." so today was gonna be like every other day. "guess i better go help them take those upstairs then, have a good rest of your day." i walk away and slip on my apron, grabbed one of the trays of drinks while another waiter grabbed the rest of the drinks. Once i got upstairs, that's when i met him...

Chapter Two: Last Will and Testament

          He was sitting on the far end of the long table of people laughing and joking. everyone seemed to be loud and all had their own inside jokes. This guy, he stuck out. i changed my attention to the task at hand, finishing this shift. i hated when people moved all the tables and seating around. all the waiters and waitresses have to go back behind them and look at the layout of the floor to put them all back exactly as they were before. it was a struggle and because of this nobody actually wanted that job so usually the manager gives it to her least favorite workers and i happened to be one. "who all had coke?" nobody answered me so one of the men bellowed out the same line and somehow was able to get a show of hands. i walked around handing  out drinks, catching the lingering smell of strong liquor. i could tell by the end of tonight they would all be wasted and loud. please, just don't make more of a mess then you have to, i thought to myself. i had one drink left on my tray, "sweet tea?" the guy i saw before at the end of the table waved his hand and i dreaded going over there, i always seem to make a fool of myself when it matters. 

     i make my way slowly down the table with the tray under my arm and the tea in my hand. i lean over to sit his drink on the table.."here's your t-" *CRASH* while joking with one of his friends his elbow crashes into my hand sending the tea flying all over me and the cup crashing to the floor, thank god i wore black. he turned around and looked more horrified then i did. "i'm sorry! i'm so sorry!" his voice was deeper then i imagined it'd be. "no, it my fault i'm sorry ill get you a new one." i turned away to hide my embarrassment and walked away really just trying to get away from the situation. i could tell from the silence behind me that all eyes were on me. i ran to the back where the lockers were for the service. i went to the bathroom and stripped the sticky clothes off throwing them aside. i sat on the toilet  trying to catch my breath, my social anxiety had struck me  hard. a feeling of worthlessness and dread fell over me like a blanket. after the past few months i've had just one day without something terrible happening would mean the world to me. i heard a knock on the door, it was melany, she walked in with a towel from the kitchen. "hey, i heard what happen upstairs are you ok?" i covered my breast trying keep myself as unexposed as possible. "oh yea im fine, im just cold, and sticky, and... covered in tea." melany and i made eye contact and both laughed just to lift the dread in the air. "let me guess, all the guys are getting a kick out of watching me fumble again huh?" i said a little less concerned and more annoyed. she rolled her eyes "they are boys, they get a kick out of picking their own nose. we both slid to the floor beside each other, she hands me the damp towel. i get most of the sticky off as possible, throwing my hair up to make it look less clumped together by the sugar. "i have an extra black t shirt in my locker but i don't know how it will fit you. your breast are at least a size larger then mine." i shrugged my shoulders, "who cares ill make do. thanks for your help melany." she smiled her weird anime girl smile and ran to get the shirt from her locker.

     ill have to admit, she was right about the size thing. it was far to small around the chest area but the rest fit fine. after the incident my boss stuck me down stairs wiping tables and sweeping the floor, i dont mind though because i get to experience the day coming to an end with a beautiful sunset over California. i secretly kept the the window to watch as the sun fell from the sky. the sky seemed to burn and darken while the clouds began to glow with the last bit of sunlight left. the sky filled up with burning Burgundy and faded orange and yellows, the tallest buildings seemed to reach for the skyline as if it were a sunflower moving to the last drip of sunlight. moving here had been hard, and this had become one of the things i looked forwards to. living in the apartment with my friend was nice, buts its not the same as coming home to someone you use to lay with every night. sleeping alone seemed so much colder and emptier then i remembered from childhood. my mother would be so disappointed in the way i turned out, in the places id gone and the decision to spend my life with someone who was most obviously the wrong one. she would have told me to slow down and to take my time, that growing up wasn't everything. she would have said love isn't something you just wake up and have, its something you make. i wasn't anywhere close to where i thought id be by now, and i could see that. it tears at my heart everyday, not being able to see her or any of my family. sometimes it felt as if they'd all died in the fire that night. 

     i suddenly heard a boom of voices making their way down the stairs, i hadn't realized how close to closing time it had become. all of them walk out stumbling and laughing at their own jokes, seems they all got a good bit of drinking in, all except one. The guy i ran into on accident seemed as sober as ever, designated driver i think, he was much taller now. he seemed muscular but in such a fitting way for his body. his teeth sparkle because their so white, his smile complimented him best. his high cheekbones made his chocolate brown eyes his best feature. His skin was glowing with a sweet honey hue and before i could notice that i was staring he turned his head. his eyes met mind before i could think twice and that's when i felt the heat rise to my cheeks. weather it be from embarrassment or silly school girl shyness i didn't know . i turned my face away but it was too late, i turned my face a little just to catch a glimpse of him before he made his way out of the door and that's when i noticed his cheeks had gone from a burnt caramel to a rosy color. i felt my body shiver at the thought that maybe, just maybe he found me as attractive as i found him. i shook the thought from head realizing they had began locking the place down. as i helped close up shop and wash dishes i couldn't help but to let my mine wander to all different kinds of thoughts, funny thing was they always fell back to him and his rosy  cheeks. i couldn't help but smile as i felt my heart race at the thought of him, even though id made a fool of myself today i was glad i hadn't ruined my chances. Even if he'd never get with me or i wouldn't ever see him again, i'd still take it as a compliment that he even looked my way. 

     before long we were all outside laughing and talking about today. The manager locked the doors and said his goodbyes. i turn to walk towards the bus station when i see a man standing aside awkwardly between the restaurant and the parking lot. suddenly my eyes adjusted and once they did, the joyousness butterflies came back and the blush suddenly reappeared on my cheeks..

There are lots more chapter after this if you are interested you can find them here

https://my.w.tt/sosFRmianbb

[purplesurveys]

1141

survey by lets-make-surveys

1 - Do you have a favourite day of the week? What is it about that day that you like so much? I feel like I just answered this recently, but let’s go with Friday again. Always nice to fade out after work and to finally close all my work tabs and chats, and not feel obligated to reply to anyone for a couple of days.

2 - Would you describe yourself as a sociable person or not? I’m not the most sociable person, like I don’t always have the energy to be at the maximum level of perky, but I am to an extent. I no longer find it difficult to approach people and strike up a conversation.

3 - Who was the last person you spoke to out-loud? What did you speak to them about? My mom. My former director, Ysa, sent me a scented candle earlier tonight - as a parting gift since she got promoted and got reassigned to my employer’s sister company - and I just asked my mom to light the candle up because I’m scared of matches and fire.

4 - Do you prefer tea or coffee? Coffee; I never drink tea.

5 - What's your ideal weather? When was the last time you had that kind of weather where you live? Any kind of weather where the temperature is anywhere below 25ºC (which is already considered quite chilly here) is fine with me.

6 - Who was the last person (apart from family) that you spent time with? What did you get up to? Does virtual count? I had a Jeopardy night on Zoom with my orgmates a couple of weeks ago. I might miss out on a couple of people, but I was with Peter, Elis, Andi, Carmel, Robin, Laurice, and Mik. Apart from that, my uncle treated me, my kuya, and my cousin Luke to lunch the morning after said Zoom call.

7 - If you have pets, when was the last time one of them got on your nerves? Oh my god, just this afternoon. I was in a Zoom call with a client and besides our PR agency, there was another marketing agency in the call who was also pitching their presentation deck. The entire call was pure bliss on my end, no one was making noise at home – the second it came to my speaking parts, Cooper started howling and barking like crazy because idk, maybe he saw an animal outside or something?? In any case it suddenly got very loud and I got caught off-guard, and I ended up stuttering several times as I was trying to focus.

8 - Do you have to wear a uniform at work or school? If not, what do you tend to wear? The only time I had to wear a legit uniform was in private school, which I attended from preschool to high school. We do have business casual dress code at work, but that in itself is pretty flexible so I don’t really count it as a ‘uniform.’

9 - Would you rather live in a house with a swimming pool or an indoor cinema? Indoor cinema. I watch a lot of things that I’d love to be able to view with a much bigger screen - plus it’s a lot easier to maintain than a pool, lol.

10 - When was the last time you were at the beach? August 2019 :(

11 - Do you own a credit card? If so, do you currently owe any money on it? Could you afford to pay it off tomorrow if necessary? No. My parents also advise against getting my own credit card since I could pick up some bad spending habits from it, according to them. That sounds scary enough so I’m ok with my debit card.

12 - What do you tend to wear to sleep in? Does this vary depending on the time of year? Usually something light, short, and airy since I live in a tropical country that never gets to enjoy temperatures lower than like 23ºC.

13 - What do you tend to have for breakfast, if you eat it? Fried rice, hotdogs, and bacon strips are filling enough for me.

14 - If someone offered to cook you a three-course-meal of your choosing, no budget - what would you have? Oysters, filet mignon, and macarons.

15 - How many hours of sleep do you typically get each night? Is that enough to function or would you rather have more? Anywhere between 7–9 during weekdays, and like 3–4 during weekends because revenge bedtime procrastination is real. Yeah, I’d say it’s enough on both ends.

16 - Does your house have a loft/basement? Are they functional or do you just use them for storage? We have neither.

17 - When was the last time you did a load of laundry? Do you need to do some in the near future? I don’t do the laundry at home.

18 - Are you addicted to anything legal? What about illegal? I guess vaping? I’m a lot more reliant on it now versus the past few months, and I get a little restless whenever I have to charge it for an hour or so. 

19 - Do you suffer from road rage? What kind of thing tends to set you off or wind you up while driving? A little bit, but I obviously haven’t had to express it in a while because of my much-lessened time on the road due to Covid. Standstill traffic is the biggest factor, but standstill traffic + stupid drivers who are impatient and end up not following the road lanes is the quickest way to irritate me and set me off.

20 - What kind of animal did you last see in the wild? Is that a common sight where you live? I have no idea, and that’s precisely because I live in the suburbs in a city which would not make them a common sight.

21 - How is your hair styled at the moment? Low side ponytail.

22 - Do you post a lot on social media? If so, what kind of thing do you tend to post on there? Not as much as I used to. I’ll probably post 5–7 tweets (versus the 50+ I’d post when I was younger) and share like 1–3 Facebook posts a day. I could talk about pretty much everything on Twitter since that’s my main dump - be it rants, my feelings, what I ate, the latest dumb thing Cooper did, etc. On Facebook I mostly share memes, at least family-friendly ones that wouldn’t alert my relatives lol.

23 - What are you watching/listening to at the moment? Nothing for either. I can hear some birds chirping outside since it’s finally getting brighter again, but that’s it.

24 - If you have multiple pets, do they all get along with each other or are there sometimes fights/scuffles? Cooper has actually finally settled down a bit so I’m starting to feel more comfortable letting him out with Kimi in the same room/floor. He understands that Kimi doesn’t like being disturbed so even though he’s in the mood to run around and be energetic and play catch or whatever, he always takes the time to tip-toe around Kimi. They’re not best buds by any means, but it’s enough to leave them be and not worry about a fight breaking out anymore. Sweet boys.

25 - What are some habits you have in common with your parents? My dad excessively blinks when he’s feeling tense or in an argument; I ended up picking that up from him. With my mom, it’s mostly phrases or expressions that she likes to use.

26 - Where's your favourite place to swim - the ocean, a pool, river, lake etc? Beaches.

27 - When you're saving your place in a book, do you use a bookmark or fold your pages down? Or something else? I either remember the page number or do a tiny dog-ear. Bookmarks aren’t the right match for me lol, I’ll most likely end up losing them.

28 - What's your favourite kind of cereal? Sweeter ones.

29 - Is any part of your body hurting at the moment? Is there a specific incident that caused the pain? Yeah, my neck had actually been seriously stiff during my last shift and I couldn’t move my head unless I moved my entire body along with it. It’s died down now but I can definitely still feel the strain. My left shoulder in particular feels very strained at the moment and I’m feeling a considerable level of discomfort from it as I take this.

30 - What was the last thing to make you laugh out loud? 2 Days 1 Night, the usual. The Korean style of video editing is phenomenal and can literally make anything funny.

[coneygoil]

The Home We Built Together, part 34

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Interlude | Part 32 | Part 33

Writer’s note:  Hi everyone! Finally, another update! My chapters have been slow to come this year, but I'm glad I can still get them out. Hope everyone is staying safe out there! <3

“Where did you go?”

Hiccup froze mid door shut. His back and shoulders visibly tensed. Astrid folded arms over her chest, knowing he would try to play off whatever suspicious active he spent the day doing.

She’d woken to an empty house that morning. The sun had barely begun to show itself for the day when she cracked her eyes open. The other side of the bed was empty. Hiccup would get up sometimes before her to fix breakfast, so when she descended the stairs to the lower part of their home, she’d expected to see a pot boiling over the firepit and an adorable gap-toothed smile bidding her good morning. But downstairs was empty and quiet.

She’d started to think Hiccup had left to feed the arena dragons without her, but then she found his note. He’d left early to fly Toothless. For what reason, he didn’t give. This was the first time they’d spent the morning apart ever since they’d grown close as a married couple.

Feeling a little putout, Astrid had eaten a simple breakfast of cheese and bread and left to feed the arena dragons, thinking that maybe Hiccup would meet her there. The rest of the day her husband was gone. Astrid checked the cove, the seashore, anywhere she thought Hiccup and Toothless would go. She toyed with the idea of taking Stormfly out to find them, but that would have put her and her dragon at risk. She decided, if Hiccup wasn’t back by sundown, she’d go searching for him with Stormfly. Now, she didn’t need to.

Hiccup slowly shut the door then with a little exaggeration, spun around to face her. “Did you get my note?”

Astrid snatched the parchment off the table and held it up. “What was so important that you had to leave before sunrise and fly Toothless for the entire day?”

“I needed to be alone,” he answered, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.

Astrid’s chest constricted in a way she hadn’t experienced before. He needed to be alone. Away from her.

Hiccup shrugged a shoulder, adding, “To think.”

Astrid narrowed her eyes. “You’re always thinking, Hiccup.”

“I know,” he finally took a few tentative steps closer to her, “but I needed to clear my head and gather my thoughts. Just me and Toothless out over the water.”

The fight slowly began to seep out of her as she processed his explanation. Her and Hiccup been inseparable ever since she discovered his secret dragon best friend. Astrid had never been one to need company. All her life, she was just fine by herself. She hadn’t realized until today how much she’d grown accustom to Hiccup’s company. How much she needed him there. How much she would worry about him when he was away from her. It was like a part of her had vanished, and she feared she wouldn’t get it back. Now she knew how Stoick felt every time Hiccup would run off.

Her distress must have been visible. Hiccup finally closed the gap between them, cautiously touching her shoulders. “I’m sorry I left you behind.”

Arms remaining folded, Astrid nailed him with a glare. “I understand why you needed to be alone, but don’t ever leave without telling me first. No more notes.”

Hiccup nodded. “No more notes.”

She caught the look on his face as he ever-so-slightly leaned in, assuming the discussion to be settled. This wasn’t going to resolve that quickly without a little retribution. She reared back and gave Hiccup a hearty punch on the shoulder.

Hiccup yelped and threw her a wounded look as he nursed his shoulder.

Astrid pierced him with one finally glare. “That was for worrying me.”

Hiccup flicked his eyes downward. “Yeah, I deserved that.”

Moving on to the pantry, Astrid procured two slices of bread and dried meat and set them on the table. Her worry for Hiccup had consumed her so much that cooking supper had been the last thing on her mind. Now that he was home, her protesting stomach could finally be tended to.

They ate at the table in silence. She had questions and with the way Hiccup tensely sat across from her, she knew he could feel her eagerness to ask. They settled at the firepit with warm mugs in hand, the evening routine like muscle memory, and quietly sipped.

“Did it help?” Astrid asked, over the crackling of the fire. “Being out there all day? Thinking?”

Hiccup’s head perked up. He seemed to ponder over an answer for a long beat. “A little.”

Astrid sipped her warm drink then brought the mug back down to her lap. “Why do you think the Nightmare’s group stays at the Nest if they want to be free from the Queen?” A thoughtful moment of silence as the fire crackled. “Why don’t they just…fly away?”

“My theory—” Hiccup began, fiddling with his mug as he gazed into its contents, “is the Queen has some sort of hold on them. Maybe she can control them in some way or she’s holding a threat over them. Either way, they’re prisoners of her bidding. I hate saying this, but Toothless was lucky in a way to have been shot down. He got away from her.”

He took a quick sip then continued, though a bit hesitantly with his words as if he wasn’t sure of the idea out loud. “Maybe we could rally the Nightmare’s rebellion to drive the Queen deeper into the volcano and somehow collapse it on top of her.”

Astrid nodded. “That’s a good idea, but I doubt the volcano falling on her will kill her. I have a feeling she’d too power for that. We’d still have to be vigilant of her escaping one day.”

Hiccup hung his head. “Yeah, that was my concern too.”

“But,” Astrid offered an encouraging smile his way, “it’s the best idea yet.”

“Thanks.” He contemplated his next words. “If only we could free the arena dragons. Have the gang learn to ride them like we want to. We could all work together with the Nightmare’s rebellion to defeat the Queen.”

“It’s a risk—”

Hiccup cupped her shoulder. “And we’ve taken so many risks so far and they’ve paid off. But we have to test it first.” Hiccup set his mug down on the bench. He disappeared upstairs and reappeared, carrying Stormfly’s saddle. “We can use the cover of darkness. It’ll be a challenge, but we can make it work.” He grinned, his enthusiasm scratching out any concern. “Are you ready to fly with Stormfly?”

***

The trek to the arena was slow and they had to stick close to the cliff wall so to not accidentally step off the edge, but the walk was muscle memory to them and even in the cover of night, it was fairly easy to maneuver. Hiccup had insisted on carrying the saddle for Astrid. She wasn’t into chivalry or being a willowy blossom, but his wish to take care of her was enduring and so she let him carry the slightly awkward load as she took the lead.

They could have waited to try this. Astrid had voiced her concern, knowing Hiccup had been gone since before the early light and had just arrived home after sunset. But somehow, her twig of a husband was energized off sheer will and stubbornness, and he was pumped over the idea of her finally getting to fly with Stormfly.

The arena dragons were most likely asleep. With being cooped up in cages most of the day, they probably slept more than a dragon normally did if in the wild. A pang of guilt mixed with pity weighted on Astrid’s heart for the caged dragons. They didn’t deserve this life of imprisonment. She held onto the reassurance that one day those cage doors would be open for good and the arena dragons would never be locked away again.

They made it to the arena safely. Walking straight to Stormfly’s pen, Astrid rapped a couple of times on the thick wood before speaking softly, “Stormfly.” She paused. “It’s me. You awake, girl?” Astrid smiled when a quiet chirrup answered her. “Open it,” she called to Hiccup.

Above Stormfly’s cage, Hiccup pulled the level, releasing the weight that kept the door locked. Astrid pried the heavy doors open with Stormfly’s help on the other side. The Nadder stepped out, chirping in bewilderment.

Astrid caressed Stormfly’s horn. “Are you ready to stretch your wings, girl?” Stormfly trilled in reply, pressing her horn lovingly against Astrid’s forehead. Astrid laughed, softly, and pulled back, her smile lighting up the dark surrounding them. “Let’s go fly.”

Astrid began strapping the saddle onto Stormfly’s back. She talked to the dragon as she did, explaining to her what she was doing. Astrid wasn’t sure if Stormfly understood as well as Toothless did, but the Nadder stayed still and calm as she worked on the straps, so she must have understood to a point. Hiccup had walked down from the upper part of the arena to join them. He helped Astrid with the straps, making sure they were set and buckled correctly.

Mounting Stormfly was a completely different task than mounting Toothless. The Night Fury was already low to the ground, more accessible. His body was long and rounded, making it easier to straddle. Stormfly towered over Toothless’ height and her body slopped downward. Astrid wasn’t one to take the easy route in a challenge. Grabbing the front of the saddle, she hopped a couple times before swinging her leg high enough to make it over Stormfly’s back. She scooted up the saddle then leaned down to help Hiccup hop up behind her.

“So—” Hiccup wiggled around, adjusting his position. “This is what it feels like to be on a Nadder.” He grabbed at the saddle as he began to slide backwards. “A bit awkward.”

“I’m sure it’ll be easier to stay on once we’re in the air and she levels out,” Astrid offered, eyeing the long spikes silhouetted atop Stormfly’s head. She seemed far enough away that she wouldn’t be poked by them. Thankfully, Hiccup had taken that into account when making the saddle. She imagined, for just a second, her husband measuring the Nadder and smiled at the care he put into his workmenship.

Astrid encouraged Stormfly to walk to the arena’s mouth. The Nadder chirped, confused, as if she didn’t believe or understand what Astrid was telling her to do. After another minute of encouraging words, Stormfly finally walked them to the exit and up the ramp. Her walking pattern was also completely different than Toothless’, and it took more effort to hang on.

“You ready, girl?” Astrid asked as an endless ceiling of stars surrounded them from above. “Take it easy on us, okay?”

Stormfly spread her wings, stretching and flexing, working the muscles in ways they hadn’t been worked in a long time. Too long. She pressed down, just as Toothless usually did, and launched up into the night sky. Astrid held tight to the saddle, squeezing Stormfly’s body with her knees. Hiccup had abandoned his hold on the saddle as they launched. He scrambled to wrap himself around Astrid, his legs up against hers, squeezing just as tight as she was. But once they had leveled out, gliding above the water, both loosened their grips – though Hiccup kept his arms firmly around her waist.

There were so many small details to how Stormfly flew compared to Toothless. She flapped her wings more frequently, causing the muscles behind her wings to contract often. Astrid could feel every little movement through her tights along the inside of her legs. Those little movements made her feel connected to her dragon in a way that she hadn’t with Toothless. This Nadder was her dragon – the one she was destined to bond with. This flight, from the moment they reached the sky, proved that deep inside Astrid’s soul. She laughed out of pure joy and mused on if this was how Hiccup felt the first time him and Toothless flew their first test drive. She could hardly wait until she could fly alone with her dragon.

Hiccup must have read her mind. He leaned close to her ear. “Fly to the cove and drop me off. I think you two need some solo flying.”

Astrid reached back and squeezed his leg in response.

With just a little difficulty because of the darkness, they found the cove and successfully landed Stormfly there. Toothless cautiously approached, prowling close to the ground like a large cat. When Hiccup called out to him, his defensive stance eased. He raised his nose to sniff the air then broke out into a gummy smile, bounding up to Stormfly. He warbled excitedly and she chirped happily as if they were greeting each other as old friends. Toothless stood on his hind legs, bobbing his head as Stormfly mirrored the gesture.

“Huh,” Hiccup watched, curiously, planting hands on his hips. “I wonder if they knew each other before.”

“Looks like they may have,” Astrid concluded, leaning back to dodge Stormfly’s crown spikes. The Nadder probably was mindful of not poking her, but Astrid kept an extra distance, just in case.

“C’mon, bud!” Hiccup called after his dragon, and Toothless bounded to him, his tongue lobbing out of the side of his mouth. “You ready for a little flying with a friend?”

Astrid turned her attention back to Stormfly. She’d never flown without Hiccup on neither of their dragons. A tingling vibration spread all over her skin. She’d dreamed for many, many weeks to be in the air with Stormfly. To test the Nadder’s limits. To test her own limits. To see if Stormfly could beat Toothless’ speed. To touch the clouds and barrel down to earth. To be one with her dragon. Now, it was reality.  

Hiccup glanced over his shoulder at them, and she could tell he was grinning back at her through the dimness of the moonlight. Toothless pushed off, disappearing into the night sky. A wide smile spread across Astrid’s face.

“C’mon, girl. Let’s see what’cha got.”

Tags (if yall still wanna read it :)  @martabm90​ @chiefhiccstrid @drchee5e @celtictreemuffin @hey-its-laura-again

[omgjasminesimone]

Happiest Place on Earth

Logan x MC (Ellie)

Summary: Logan and Ellie go to Disneyland.

Now with Epilogue

Word count: 2500

Ellie lounges in her childhood bed, already dressed in her sleep shorts and tank top despite the fact that it’s only 8 pm. She’s currently unemployed, so her sleep schedule is a little off. Ellie really wishes she could land a job. Being out of her father’s house for four years and then returning to discover he still treats her like a child makes her wish she could afford to pay rent and move. Ellie lets out an impatient sigh as she continues to wait for her Grubhub order to finally arrive. Sure, LA is notorious for its terrible traffic, but this wait is ridiculous! She regrets pre-tipping the driver in the app.

The doorbell rings. “Finally.” Ellie mutters to herself, quickly running down the stairs and flinging the door open. She freezes, eyes widening as she takes him in, just casually standing on her father’s door step.

Logan smiles sheepishly. “Hey troublemaker.”

Ellie wants to simultaneously kiss him and slap him, but she’s rooted to her spot. It’s been over 4 years since she’s heard a word from him, since he ran after promising her he was done running.

Ellie crosses her arms over her chest, feeling defensive as she drinks in his manlier frame, the light stubble on his chin, the weariness in his eyes. “What are you doing here Logan?” Ellie questions.

Logan shoves his hands in his jean pockets. “I wanted to see you.” He replies softly.

“You wanted to see me?” Ellie asks incredulously, tears welling in her eyes. “You left me Logan! You ran and stayed away for years without even so much as a letter to tell me you were okay! I loved you so much, I would have run with you if you just asked.” Ellie whimpers, wiping furiously at the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Logan takes her face in his hands and wipes her tears away with his calloused thumbs. “You had to go to school, get back on the right path. And I didn’t run. I would never run from you.” He reveals.

Ellie looks up at him with watery eyes. “What?” She questions.

Logan smiles sadly, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “I turned myself in Ellie.” He explains. “I served my time. I just got out two days ago. I’m in a halfway house now, it’s an anti-recidivism program I got into because of my good behavior when I was in jail. They hook you up with a job with a company run by a former felon, someone who gets it.” Logan adds.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have visited you, I would have written you letters every day. I would have waited for you Logan.” Ellie insists, burying her face into his chest and hugging his waist as she pictures him all alone in jail while she was out enjoying college.

His arms encircle her shoulders, returning her embrace. “I know troublemaker, that’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to imprison you too.” Logan responds. “But now I’m out, and you’re done with school, and if you’ll have me, I’d like to start fresh.” Logan offers sheepishly, loosening his hold so he can look down at her. “Assuming you’re not seeing anybody. I checked your Facebook, and it said you were single. I don’t know if that’s current though…” Logan trails off.

Ellie lets him sweat for a moment before answering his question. “You’re in luck. I recently broke up with my ex-boyfriend. He said he didn’t want to do long distance after graduation, even though he got a job in San Diego. I guess 120 miles is too much to overcome.”

“He’s an idiot to let you go. If you give me another chance, I’ll love you the way you deserve.” Logan says reverently.

“And no more secrets? You promise this time?” Ellie prompts.

“Secretly turning myself in is the last secret, I swear.” Logan responds, feeling encouraged when he starts to lean down to her lips and she doesn’t pull away.

Ellie closes the distance, pushing herself onto her tiptoes and weaving her fingers through his now shorter, but still long, hair. Both their mouths open and their tongues tangle together as he grips her waist, hauling her completely against him. It’s like all the time they’ve spent apart melts away as they kiss. He left an imprint on her, and now, back in his arms, she finally feels whole again.

Logan pulls away when he needs to breathe, but he can’t stay away for long, pressing a quick peck to her kiss swollen lips. “Is your dad home?” He questions, hands slipping under her tank top and trailing over the soft skin of her lower back.

“He’s working a night shift.” Ellie replies, watching the glint that appears in Logan’s eyes when he realizes they have the place to themselves.

Logan steps into the house, making sure to lock the door behind him before gathering Ellie into his arms and hurrying up to her room.

30 minutes later, Ellie’s food finally arrives. But she’s a little preoccupied, so the delivery driver leaves it on the porch.

…

..

6 months later

 “I thought you said the lines wouldn’t be bad in February Ellie.” Logan complains, leaning against the railing as they continue to wait to board Space Mountain.

“This isn’t bad at all. In the summer, these lines can be up to 3 hours.” Ellie responds, and then she tries to soothe his slight irritation by looping her arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss him softly “I promise you it will be worth it. I wouldn’t lead you wrong on your very first trip to Disneyland.”

Ellie had insisted on getting them tickets for his birthday after finding out he had never been. Logan had tried to convince her that the money would be better spend saving up for rent for when they got an apartment together, but his girlfriend was undeterred. He only has 3 more months until he can leave the halfway house, no more curfew, no more parole, he’ll be truly free. Ellie got a job a few months ago, working as a consultant. She doesn’t love it, but it pays pretty well. Her income coupled with what he makes as a mechanic means they can afford a one bedroom in a LA suburb. To Logan, it feels like things are finally starting to fall into place.

Logan smiles when Ellie breaks the kiss, pulling her back in for another more passionate one. Ellie pulls away after a few seconds. “Watch the PDA. There are children present.” Ellie gestures to the little girl waiting in line in front of them with her mother. The little girl’s attention is firmly on the pair of them as her mother seems to be busy on the phone. Logan smiles at her and the girl blushes and looks away.

“No, that’s not what I told him. I don’t know where he got that price point, it’s way too low, it’s not going to work.” The stressed out mother mutters into the phone, massaging her temples. “I’m aware of that Charles.” She spits out, pressing her cell phone more firmly to her ear in an attempt to drown out the loud sounds of the theme park. “What? I can’t hear you. Wait, one second.” The mother turns to Ellie and Logan. “I hate to have to ask this, but can you keep an eye on her for a few minutes while I take this call? You guys look like a wholesome couple.” The mother pleads.

Ellie nods. “Of course, we’ll take good care of her.”

The mother offers an appreciative smile at the young pair before she hurries off. Ellie turns to Logan. “Did you hear that? Wholesome! We should report that back to your parole officer.” She whispers, smirking at him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called wholesome before. Forget my parole officer, we need to tell your dad.” Logan retorts quietly. Detective Wheeler still isn’t a fan of Logan. He’s spent quite a bit of time trying to talk Ellie out of moving in with him, to no avail.

“I bet it’s our matching Disneyland sweatshirts and the ears giving off the wholesome vibe. Isn’t that well worth the $150 you had to spend, since you insisted on buying mine for me?”

Logan winces slightly as he remembers seeing that ridiculously high number come up on the gift store cash register. “That was a little steep for the apparel, but if it makes you happy it was worth it. Your happiness is priceless.” Logan’s charm comes through, as always.

Elle grins at him, giving him a chaste kiss. Normally, a sweet comment like that would have earned him a steamy make out session, but they’re in the middle of babysitting.

Ellie squats down to the little girl’s level. “Hi, I’m Ellie. And he’s Logan.” Logan offers a wave when Ellie points at him.

The girl smiles at them.  “Hi, I’m Katie.” She says shyly.

“So Katie, what’s your favorite ride?” Ellie asks.

Katie grins. “It’s A Small World. What’s your’s?”

“I can’t possibly pick just one, that’s like asking me to pick a favorite child. I love Disneyland in general.” Ellie answers.

“What’s your favorite?” Katie directs her question at Logan, who rubs behind his neck sheepishly.

“Well, so far I’ve been on the Pirates of the Caribbean one and It’s a Small World, so the Pirates one I guess.”

Katie’s jaw drops. “This is your first time at Disneyland? But you’re old!”

“22 – I mean 23” Logan corrects when he remembers that he is in fact 23 today “isn’t that old.” He says somewhat defensively, but he’s just playing at being offended. He crouches down next to Ellie to be eye level with Katie. “How old are you?” He asks.

Katie puts up 5 fingers triumphantly.

“Have you started school yet?” Ellie asks, and Katie nods excitedly. “What’s your favorite part?”

Katie has a lot to say on the subject, and the conversation flows until her mother returns. “Thank you.” She mouths at the pair as she and Katie turn away from the pair to continue waiting.

Ellie turns back to Logan, trying to decipher what the look he’s giving her means. “What?” She finally asks when she realizes she has no idea why he’s looking at her like that.

“You’re going to be a really great mom when we have babies.” He comments, pulling her into his arms.

Ellie loops her arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “When? Not if? You’re awfully confident.” Ellie teases.

“I know that you love me, you’re not going anywhere.” Logan teases back, kissing the bridge of her nose. It tickles a little, causing Ellie’s nose to wrinkle. He smiles softly, allowing his eyes to close before capturing her lips this time.  

She pulls away slightly after a few moments, speaking against his lips. “How many kids will we have?” She asks.

“I don’t know, I think a lot though. Like, 8 or 9.” Logan answers.

Ellie steps back in surprise. “8 or 9? That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to carry them around, or push them out.”

Logan smirks, gripping her hand and pulling her to him again. “Not all biologically our’s Ellie. I do want 2 or 3 biological kids though. I want them to look like you, and be smart like you.” Logan reveals, resting his head atop her’s as he hugs her to him.

He can feel her smile against his neck. “I hope they’re kind and brave like you. And I hope they get your hair.” Ellie responds, tangling her hands in his soft locks. He’s growing it out again.

“Oh, they will. My hair genes are strong.” Logan teases, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

Ellie looks up at him. “So what about the other 6 or 7 kids? Adopted?” Ellie asks.

“I was thinking fostered, actually. So it’s not like we’d have 9 kids in the house at one time. That would be a lot. I was placed in homes with 8 other kids sometimes, and it definitely wasn’t ideal. I think we’d be great foster parents, and there are a lot of bad ones out there, trust me on that one.” Logan reminisces on his own childhood in foster care, and Ellie squeezes him comfortingly.

“How does foster care work? If they wanted to stay permanently, could we adopt them?” Ellie questions.

“Well, the hope is always that their parents get their stuff together and reunite with their kid, but that doesn’t always happen. So in that case, we could adopt them out of foster care.” Logan answers.

“This is important to you, isn’t it?” Ellie asks.

“Yeah, it is. I want to give a foster child the kind of loving home environment that I wanted.” Logan replies.

“Then I’m 100% on board. Although we have a lot of steps to go before we start seriously considering kids. We have to move in together first, make sure we don’t actually hate each other.”

“I could never hate you. I love every single thing about you Ellie Wheeler. You think I would wear these stupid Mickey Mouse ears for just anyone?”

Ellie laughs, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you too.” She promises between increasingly passionate kisses. As they kiss, Ellie starts to envision the future he’s painted. Their future family. Family trips to Disneyland. Tears prickle at the back of her eyes with the knowledge of how much she wants that with him, how much she loves him.

Ellie pulls away from him. “Let’s get out of here for a little bit. I want to be alone.” She says suggestively.

Logan gestures to Space Mountain, they’re almost to the front of the line now. “I thought you wanted to ride this.”

“I’d rather ride you.” She whispers in his ear, delighting in the way he shivers at her words.

Logan grips her hand, leading her out of the line and to his car with the dark tinted back windows.

…

..

.

An hour later, the two lay cuddled up in the backseat of Logan’s Devore GT, their clothes scattered all over the car. “You ready to go back in there?” Logan asks, idly tracing patterns over Ellie’s ribcage.

Ellie gently runs her thumb over the smudged stamp on his hand to allow them re-entry to the park. “I want to stay here for just a little bit longer.” She answers.

Logan kisses her forehead. “No complaints here.”

They lay in contented silence for a few moments before Ellie breaks the quiet. “You know, it’s funny you skipped marriage talk and went straight to kids.” She comments, gazing into his eyes.

Logan arches an eyebrow. “I thought marriage was implied. Let me clarify for you, I do in fact want to marry you Ellie Wheeler.”

Ellie blushes despite herself at hearing him admit that so earnestly. “I want to marry you too.” She returns, kissing him softly. “But don’t think that that counts as a proposal Logan. I want the whole thing, big public romantic gesture and all.”

“Like a Disneyland proposal?” Logan questions softly, smirking when she looks at him with wide eyes.

taglist:  @choicesarehard @ifyouseekheart @brightpinkpeppercorn @regina-and-happiness @drakexnadira @flyawayboo @fairydustandsarcasm @alesana45 @umiumichan @maxwellsquidsuit @lahelable @god-save-the-keen @mrsmckenziesworld @paisleylovergirl @iplaydrake @sinclaire-made-me-sin @hazah @lovehugsandcandy @desiree-0816 @cora-nova @justdani14 @lady-dianelewis @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @badchoicesposts @client-327 @riverrune @liamzigmichael4ever @princessstellaris @mrskaneko 

[ginnranger]

Character Information

 Clearly I have put more thought into some of these characters than others, but I will add to this as I write more and develop them more.

General Information -

Name: Ginn Ranger

Gender: Female

Nickname(s): Little G, Sweets (By Martin only), Lady Ranger (Martin), Little Ember (Past - hated),

Date of Birth: 1st January, 2002

Astrological/ Zodiac Sign: Capricorn

Ethnicity: English, Irish

Nationality: British

Species: Human

Sexuality: Panromantic, Asexual

Family: 

The Ranger family is an Irish descended family, residing in Liverpool City, then London. They are a poor family, but they get by well enough with what they have. Patrick and Mary had Ginn accidentally when they were 18. They got married when Ginn was 5 years old, when they were 23. They follow an ancient and rare tribal culture, known as Star Chasers, who believe the stars are the souls of their ancestors, and prioritise a person’s ability to fight.

Father: Patrick Ranger is a Northern Irish descended man who moved to Liverpool with his father when he was 10 years old, after the mysterious death of his mother. He was arrested and thrown in Juvenile Detention when he was 15 for assault and assist in an attempted murder, where he stayed until he turned 16. Once he was released, he was put on parole and pursued an apprenticeship and career in carpentry. He met Mary in the carpentry workshop, as she worked as the clerk in the shop. He is extremely creative, and blessed with artistic skills, like drawing, carving, and pyrography. He also enjoys music, and played guitar, until he had to sell it to scrounge enough money for bills when he was 25. His mother died mysteriously when he was 10, making his father even more neurotic than before, and forcing them to run to England and live with his uncle and cousin. He was disowned by his father at 17, when he started dating Mary. He has rusty ginger hair, styled messily, cut 4 inches at the sides and back, and 5 inches in top, having it fall over his right eye. The sides are tucked behind his ears. He has forest green eyes and light pale skin. He has a slim build, with broad shoulders and strong arms.

Mother: Mary Pendle (Later Ranger) is a Southern Irish descended woman whose family moved to Liverpool two generations before Mary was born. She completed A-Levels in Maths, Physics, and a B-TEC in Business, then moved on to do a degree in Mathematics and Finance in the university of Liverpool. She met Patrick at age 16, when she went to work as the saleswoman in the carpentry shop Patrick worked in. She worked so she could make her own money and run away from her abusive mother. However, she was disowned by her mother when she started dating Patrick. Her mother and her sister attempted to murder her after disowning her, but luckily, she managed to get into public eye before passing out to be taken to the hospital. Mary became pregnant aged 18 with Patrick’s child, so struggled a lot more with university than originally thought. She was diagnosed with Autism when she was 20, after one of her professors recognised some of the general characteristics in her. She has curly, messy, brown hair, that she usually keeps down, with a fringe swooping to the right, and cut to the middle of her shoulder blades. She has pale skin, with light freckles over the bridge of her nose, and bright, electric blue eyes. She has a skinny, curvy build.

Other family (s): Liyo Anand (Friend of Mary and Patrick, husband of Scot), Scot Lander (friend of Patrick and Mary, husband of Liyo), Amanda Lander (the mother of Scot, who took in Mary and Patrick when they were disowned, and helped them with Ginn when she was a baby), Gillian Pendle (Mary’s mother, never met), Finnley Ranger (Patrick’s father, never met).

Affiliation(s)/ Organization(s): When she is older, she helps Martin’s charity.

Occupation(s): Illustrator, activist

Appearance -

Height: 5’3”

Weight: 6st 5lb

Eyes: Heterochromia; right eye is electric blue, left eye is amber-brown

Complexion (skin tone/ conditions): pale, with light freckles on bridge of nose, and often had bags under her eyes. She had two large scars on her back, stretching from her right shoulder, down diagonally to the middle of her back, under her shoulder blades. There is a straight, thick scar on her left side, a slimmer scar on her right forearm, and a few self harm scars on her thighs.

Hair Colour/ Style: Rusty ginger. Cut short to the top of her ears, but often left to grow to jaw length, in a choppy and messed up style. She has a fringe swept to the left, covering her brown eye. It is mainly cut at home by her mother, but she will cut it on her own when she is going through a crisis. She had longer hair when she was younger, but she went through some traumatic experiences that made her cut it short to feel more in control.

Dress sense: She dresses in loose, baggy clothing, as she is very uncomfortable with being perceived as feminine due to trauma. She often wears an oversized khaki green army style jacket. Her favourite colour is green, so she often wears one of her many green tshirts, with all types of sleeve length. She likes black jeans and walking trousers, and often wears boots.

School Information -

Worst Class(es): English (Dyslexia), Sciences

Best Class(es): Art

Sport(s): running, gymnastics (no team, but very good) (Enjoys free-running and parkour)

Club(s): N/A

Status: Loser, outcast, art kid. When she becomes friends with the others, she moves up the social ladder

Trivia -

(Random facts about them, future job, etc.)

Random Facts:

Favorite place: top of Anglican Cathedral. likes to be outside, so is happy anywhere she can see the stars at night.

Hobbies: Drawing, animating, running, parkour.

Past events: As a child, she was never able to connect with her peers, for reasons she could not understand. This made her so lonely, she was manipulated into entering a bad crowd, but she only ended up gaining scars on her back, trauma from sexual and physical abuse, and more trust issues. She says the only good thing she got from those experiences is her excellent judge in character and her ability to fight.

Medical/Psychological history: She has a rare medical condition (Hemovenenum [blood poisoning]) that requires 1-2 injections a day in order to keep her steady and alive. This makes her have heart attacks, and makes her immunity severely low. Needs at least two check-ups a year. She developed PTSD and depression from the traumatic experiences as a 12 year old. She developed social anxiety after so much rejection by her peers as a child.

General Information -

Name: Martin Williams

Gender: Male

Nickname(s): Mart, Tin (by Ginn), Master Williams (By Ginn)

Date of Birth: 25th October 2001

Astrological/ Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Ethnicity: Spanish, Black

Nationality: British

Species: Human

Sexuality: Bisexual

Family: The Williams family is new money rich. Martin’s father, Conner, invented a new printing press machine, as well as more sustainable paper and ink, patenting it and creating his own printing company. Mr Peterson’s magazine was the first to invest in Conner’s company. This happened when Martin was 4 years old. His mother’s side is Spanish, and father’s side is black. They are all extremely close, having family gatherings a lot and doing many of their hobbies together. Their main connection is their love for music, all of them playing a different instrument and writing songs together. Martin and his two brothers love to run and venture through nature, parkouring through the wilderness.

Father: Conner Williams is a British black man, who despite his money, is very down to earth as he remembers what it is like to struggle. He is a caring CEO, and makes sure every employee has a good wage, great conditions, and an excellent experience in the workplace. He likes to help people, and is very generous. He enjoys music, and taught Martin how to play different instruments. He has dark brown eyes, thick curly black hair, and a thin, neatly shaved beard.

Mother: Elena Williams moved to England when she was 20, her family following her six years later. She is an interior designer, and works with Zack Peterson, advertising herself and putting simple designs in a section of his magazine. She is a caring, unbothered woman who does not care what people think of her, she just lives her life how she wants. She taught all her children Spanish, plays piano wither family, and taught Martin and Valeria how to cook. She had long, wavy, mahogany brown hair, reaching almost to her butt. She likes to keep it down, but if needed she will put it in a pony tail. She has large, russet brown eyes, and sun kissed skin.

Conner and Elena were the youngest couple in the group of parents, until Mary and Patrick joined them.

Other family (s): Dominic (eldest brother), Mateo (older brother) Valeria (younger sister), aunts, uncles, cousins, all four grandparents

Affiliation(s)/ Organization(s): a charity he volunteered in from 14yrs old.

Occupation(s): the same charity he volunteered in

Appearance -

Height: 5’7” (age 15), 6’2” (adult)

Weight: 11st

Eyes: russet brown, sparkling, often bright and happy.

Complexion (skin tone/ conditions): Dark skin, but closer to his mother’s lighter shade than his father’s

Hair Colour/ Style: Mahogany brown. Ordered messy, like he had spent several minutes gliding his fingers through his hair, methodically spiking it up, then brushing it forward, leaving bits sticking up. Every portion of his hair was cut to a similar length, apart from the front, which was slightly longer, dropping lightly in front of his right eye

Dress sense: Martin’s dress sense is often describes a grungy by his friends. He wears loose fitted tshirts, slim fit, dark coloured jeans, with bright coloured trainers. Depending on the weather, he switches between wearing button ups over his tshirts, zip up hoodies, and pull over hoodies and jumpers. His hoodies are all oversized and baggy.

He has been described by his teachers as ‘looking for trouble’, as his crooked smile makes him look like he is planning something. Really, he is thinking about something funny.

School Information -

Worst Class(es): sciences, art

Best Class(es): music, English

Sport(s): gymnastics (likes free-running and parkour)

Club(s): band, debate club

Status: disruptive one in class, but means well

Trivia -

(Random facts about them, future job, face claim, theme song, etc.)

Random Facts:

Favourite place: mountain tops, his paternal grandparents’ living room

Hobbies: music, making videos, anything to do with social justice

Past events: a few generations before, Martin’s ancestor “Andrew Williams” and Ginn’s ancestor “Hailey Ranger” were friends in the Army. Ginn and Martin bond over this. Martin was excluded for two weeks after he punched the PE teacher for discriminating against him.

General Information -

Name: Alex Peterson

Gender: Male

Nickname(s): Domer

Date of Birth: 14th November, 2001

Astrological/ Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Ethnicity: English

Nationality: British

Species: Human

Sexuality: Bisexual

Family:

The Peterson family is descended from people who were more than able to get themselves into The Dome after the Nuclear War. They are a rich family, living in the rich city centre of London. Zack Peterson inherited his business from his father, like his father did before him. They are a well respected family in society, so image is everything to them, however, they still remain pleasant and kind people.

Father: Zack Peterson is the owner of a massive world-wide magazine, Wonder. He inherited it from his father, like his father before him, and he is obsessed with keeping his social image pristine and perfect, so he tries his best to make good connections and do good things. He loves writing, both fact and fiction, but is useless when it comes to DIY and housework. He has a Masters Degree in English, and a Bachelors in both English and Business. He has short blond hair, and vibrant blue eyes. He tends to wear suits, even when he is not working.

Mother: Sarah Peterson is a psychologist with a particular interest in child development and how trauma affects a young person. She is supportive and maternal, but is also image driven, so hides problems. She has long blonde hair, neatly cut down to her mid-back, that she usually keeps up in a braid or bun, and light blue eyes. She has a very feminine style, never wearing trousers.

Other family (s): Grandparents, paternal uncle, maternal aunt, cousins

Affiliation(s)/ Organization(s): Churchill’s Private Secondary school, Parliament (adult)

Occupation(s): Politician

Appearance -

Height: 5’9” (age 15), 6’2 (adult)

Weight: 10st

Eyes: Cornflower blue

Complexion (skin tone/ conditions): pale but healthy. As an adult, he would have bags under his eyes a lot.

Hair Colour/ Style: light blond. Shaved sides and back, with a classic side parting, favouring the right

Dress sense: Alex likes to wear button up shirts with jeans, trainers or canvas shoes, with smart casual jackets.

School Information -

Worst Class(es): Biology, physics, maths

Best Class(es): ICT, History

Sport(s): Rounders

Club(s): Photography, rounders team

Status: nerdy jock

Trivia -

(Random facts about them, future job, etc.)

Random Facts:

Favourite place: Gardens and parks, his bedroom, the lounge in the Peterson home

Hobbies: photography, editing, photoshop

General Information -

Name: Louise Mitchel

Gender: Female

Nickname(s): Lou,

Date of Birth: 2th April 2002

Astrological/ Zodiac Sign: Taurus

Ethnicity: White

Nationality: British

Species: human

Sexuality: Bisexual

Family: Louise is the eldest child of three in the Mitchel family, with twin brothers, who are 6 years younger than her. Her parents married as they are secretly gay, and they think they hide it from their children and friends, but fail terribly, as they fool no one. Still, they refuse to break up until their incredibly religious parents die.

Father: Parker Mitchel is a lawyer. He is secretly gay, and often stays out late hooking up with men. Laila honestly could not care less.

Mother: Laila Mitchel is a speech therapist. She develops strong crushes on women very quickly due to her repressed sexuality. Mary Ranger is a particular weakness for her.

Other family (s): Jacob (younger brother), Thomas (younger brother)

Affiliation(s)/ Organization(s):

Occupation(s): Psychologist and counsellor

Appearance -

Height: 5’5”

Weight: 9st

Eyes: Sky blue

Complexion (skin tone/ conditions): Pale and pristine

Hair Colour/ Style: Light brown. Long (mid way down back), often kept up in a loose braid.

Dress sense: Louise likes to dress very feminine, wearing short skirts and neat blouses. She is classy, yet hot.

School Information -

Worst Class(es): history, art

Best Class(es): Psychology, English

Sport(s): N/A

Club(s): N/A

Trivia -

(Random facts about them, future job, etc.)

Random Facts:

Favourite place: her bedroom, libraries

Hobbies: sewing, makeup, dance

 General Information -

Name: Elsie Brown

Gender: Female

Nickname(s): El, Els, 

Date of Birth: 6th March 2002

Astrological/ Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Ethnicity: White

Nationality: British

Species: human

Sexuality: Straight

Family: her parents bonded over their similar names.

Father: Daniel Brown is a botanist specialising in fruit/veg baring plants to make them more efficient in harvest.

Mother: Danielle ‘Dani’ Brown is a marine biologist professor at the University of London. 

Other family (s): Jasmine (younger sister), Robert (older brother)

Affiliation(s)/ Organization(s):

Occupation(s): Primary school teacher

Appearance -

Height: 5’4”

Weight: 8st 8lb

Eyes: forest green

Complexion (skin tone/ conditions): pale, but slight tan. Darker than the other girls

Hair Color/ Style: strawberry blonde. Long and wavy. Barely ever kept up. Has a thick fringe swept to the left side.

Dress sense: Elsie likes to dress more conservatively than Louise, but still very feminine. She wears skirts down to the knee, with tights and simple dolly shoes.

School Information -

Worst Class(es): Art, music

Best Class(es): Maths, English

Sport(s): N/A

Club(s): N/A

Trivia -

(Random facts about them, future job, face claim, theme song, etc.)

Random Facts:

Favourite place: anywhere she can see water

Hobbies: making cloths, dancing

 General Information -

Name: George Groden

Gender: Male

Nickname(s): N/A

Date of Birth: 10th September 2001

Astrological/ Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Ethnicity: white

Nationality: British

Species: Human

Sexuality: Straight

Family: the richest family in the group.

Father: Grant Groden is a doctor and medical researcher in a private hospital. He is rather pretentious and class based, so has a slightly low view on the Rangers, but eventually he’ll get used to them

Mother: Molly Groden is a high class Interior Designer.

Other family (s): Diana (Older sister)

Affiliation(s)/ Organization(s):

Occupation(s): Doctor and Medical researcher

Appearance –

Height: 5’11” (15), 6’0” (Adult)

Weight: 11st 5lb

Eyes: Dark forest green

Complexion (skin tone/ conditions): more tanned skin than Elsie, but still not dark

Hair Colour/ Style: light honey brown hair, neatly combed and cut short, with a fringe

Dress sense: George likes to dress simple yet formal. he often wears woollen vests over button up shirts, and dress trousers.

School Information -

Worst Class(es): history, English

Best Class(es): all sciences, maths

Sport(s): N/A

Club(s): N/A

Status: stook up nerd publicly, but more relaxed with his friends

Trivia -

(Random facts about them, future job, etc.)

Random Facts:

Favorite place: Library, sitting under a tree with a book, museums

Hobbies: drawing, writing, reading

[poetic-photography]

23 -- Chase Atlantic

I’m going to try my hardest to explain what this song means to me with every line of the lyrics 

[Verse 1] I'm feeling a way, off some kinda drug Maybe it's lust, maybe it's love

 I’ve always struggled with what my heart or body wants. The search to love instead of lust is one of the most destructive roads I have ever had to walk.

I know I said I'd straighten out a week ago

I always gave and still give myself deadlines or startdates and always end up disappointing myself more than anyone when I don’t reach them in time.

I'm fiending though, 'bout to reach my peak, you know

I experience emotions either very intense or not at all, and most of the times, it’s the intense part, making me feel everything more extreme than how others would, and then it kills me in a heartbeat, all emotion is gone and I’m just numb. 

The city's got me falling now

Sometimes when I am out with friends, I wander off into the city by myself, listening to music. Feeling so much, yet nothing at the same time. It feels like I am seeing my own life through someone else’s eyes.

I'm fading away, I'm losing my head

in that moment, it feels like I am in another dimention, as if I’m not living in the same reality as everyone else.

I know you said leave, but fuck what you said 'Cause you've been steady, crawling on your knees again

Overthinking every single move I make, every step, every breath, overanalysing every minor thing, although people told me I am or something I’ve done was fine.

You need a friend And I've been off the pills again

In that moment I need a friend, although I never exactly find what I need. I need to talk about how I feel, but every word that comes out tastes like poison. I need to listen to someone or something, but it’s like I’m deaf to all sounds. I need to scream and yell, but people will confuse my cluelessness for anger and turn on me. I need to cry, but in order for me to be able to cry I need to feel safe, and that’s really difficult to find. I just need to sit somewhere alone, but I can’t stand loneliness. I need someone to hug me, but I can’t stand someone else near me. I never know what I truly need, which makes it unable for me to find the one thing that helps.  [Chorus] Baby's only twenty-three Dancing under lights since she was seventeen

The year I turned 17 was by far the hardest to deal with, and the year I started looking for every possible way out of reality. 

Her brain's flooded with ketamine 

Everyone in that situation tries to find a way to numb the thoughts, some turn to drugs, others to music. 

High from every (party/everybody) , low from self-esteem

This is by far the most important line for me, because I could be enjoying myself all night, dancing and laughing, go to the bathroom and cry my eyes out. I love going out with friends and enjoying myself, but the days after I am such a mess that I sometimes just sleep for days to get rid of the absoute numbness inside of me  I am planning on getting it tattood soon, after I had the oportunity to talk with the bandmembers of Chase Atlantic and having it written down in their handwriting. 

It's selfish but she never sleeps Honestly, she needs a little sympathy

People have told me before that they pitty me, and I know they are right, yet I still hate it. I know I just needed someone to love me for me, but I couldn’t see that. 

Look what's gotten into me? But baby's only twenty-three Baby's only twenty-three

She has been 5 years like this, so young yet with a heart so bruised and broken. Kind of how I feel our generation is turning out to be. Everyone suffers for mental ilness, yet so many are too afraid to speak up about it and get stuck in a row of very bad habits. 

[Verse 2] I'm caught in the buzz Another one down, I'm pushing my luck

This line is about drugs, or anything mindnumbing, but to me it’s more about pushing your limits although you know you will crash soon. 

The future's never looked so bright, it's blinding me

When I am in a state of mind that is based on pushing out the struggles instead of facing them, it’s like I am this other, apathetic person, not giving a damn about the bad things and seeing nothing but positivity, although I know that when I’ll be alone, everything will come crashing down . 

It's hard to see, I'm swimming through dopamine

The adrenaline that’s rushing through my body in those moments

Your body looks like heaven and I wanna give up, I just wanna leave

I know I should leave, i should go home, but the adrenaline and so are pushing me to keep going, to push out the feelings just a little longer. 

I'm floating away, I'm caught in the breeze But she's been so dramatic with these paragraphs Her broken heart, chemicals can mend it fast

Going outside and lighting a cigarette to get that nicotine kick before the cold can affect my body and mind. [Chorus] Baby's only twenty-three Dancing under lights since she was seventeen Her brain's flooded with ketamine High from every party, low from self-esteem It's selfish but she never sleeps Honestly, she needs a little sympathy Look what's gotten into me? But baby's only twenty-three Yeah, baby's only twenty-three [Bridge] I can't believe this is happening What did I do? What did she do to me?

Reality and Apathy are fighing in my head trying to figure out what’s real 

This isn't true to me, she's quite acute it seems Now I'm seeking therapy, she won't be there for me

Having to say goodbye to my own darkness, having to let got of it was very diffucult, because, when you close your eyes, you see darkness. But of you keep them closed for long enough, you see light. And in a way I was addicted to my own darkness. 

Mending my brain again Please don't give up on me This hurts tremendously How will this end for me?

Pushing people away who are trying to help me because I was convinced I could do this by myself, even though deep down I knew all too well I couldn’t.

Deal with this separately, deal with this Fuck it, she's dead to me

Blocking it out of my mind, trying to rebuild everrything I tore down, working on my own recovery. 

I'm on her frequency I know that she listens secretly I know that she listens secretly I'm on her frequency

Although it’s always with me, no matter how many therapy sessions, darkness will stay. Black can no longer turn to white, it simply becomes grey.  [Chorus] Twenty-three (Don't try to level me)

People tried to understand, but no one know what’s inside my head. 

Dancing under lights since she was seventeen (Picking apart all these pieces)

Overthinking every single choice again, taking hours to figure it out. 

Her brain's flooded with ketamine High from every party, low from self-esteem (They listen secretly)

The darkness that is still somewhere, waiting for a day to take over again 

It's selfish but she never sleeps Honestly, she needs a little sympathy (I'm on her frequency)

Knowing I had company in my worst moments, but not what I needed, and trying to not grab back to it. 

Look what's gotten into me? (I'm now a fiend it seems)

We are no longer friends, there are just memories and thoughts, and I am the one who pushed it out. 

But baby's only twenty-three (I'm on her frequency) Baby's only twenty-three (I'm on her frequency)

It’ll always be there, somewhere, but it’s my task to fight it and don’t give into temptations. 

Song : 23 

Artist :  Chase Atlantic ( Mitchel and Clinton Cave and Christian Anthony )

[btsybrkr]

You’re Hired

I love The Apprentice. I look forward to it every single year. It’s the one reality series that too-smart-for-you TV snobs won’t look down on you for watching, despite the fact that The Apprentice is really just Big Brother in suits. Think about it: larger-than-life contestants, living together in a big house, completing tasks where they will always be destined to fail (because it makes for much better conflict), all while being watched closely by an omnipotent figure, who calls all the shots.

In fact, Alan Sugar is a much scarier man-in-charge than the titular Big Brother. For one thing, he looks the contestants in the eyes when he’s destroying them emotionally - Big Brother hides away in a little recording booth somewhere, where he’s safe from any angry housemates, who’ve snapped after the pointlessness of what they’re doing has finally dawned on them. What a coward. Also, Alan Sugar is really bloody rich. Alan Sugar is so rich that he could probably buy you, and sell you back to yourself at a much higher price, and that’s pretty scary, if you ask me.

But, I digress. The thing that’s so great about The Apprentice is that it’s so low-stakes. Not to the contestants, of course, but to the viewer. See, it’s the only reality show where I never care who stays or who goes, and that’s because the contestants are usually, without exception, cocks - and this year hasn’t been much different.

Obviously, the stand-out recipient of the ‘Jesus Christ, You Really Are Absolutely Awful’ award this year has to be librarian and general irritant Lottie Lion, whose name alone makes her sound like the archetypal spoiled brat character from a Roald Dahl novel. It suits her so well, it’s almost as though her parents just sensed from birth that she was going to turn out that way. Or maybe she came out of the womb riding side-saddle on a horse and waxing lyrical about how much better she is than everyone else. I can’t know for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised.

When she wasn’t shooting a piece-to-camera to repeat her mantra “I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to win”, she was busy coming up with increasingly ridiculous reasons why she was the ideal candidate for the top job in each task. She started out strong in Week 1 by announcing she was the best choice for sub-team leader in a tourism task, because “I know that the population of South Africa is 51 million”, and yet, amazingly, still managed to out-BS herself week after week. Perhaps the finest example was Week 9, in which she described having viola lessons when she was four as having been “in the music industry for 15 years”. By that logic, I’ve been in dentistry for 23 years, because I can navigate my own mouth with a toothbrush without taking out six of my teeth in the process.

Oh, and let’s not forget the remark she allegedly made in a contestants’ group chat, in which she told Pakistani candidate Lubna to “shut up, Ghandi”, before allegedly threatening “I’ll fucking knock you out at our press training”. Obviously, this is horrendously racist and absolutely out of order, and with any luck, Lubna might knock her out first, since, as a person born with arms, she has technically been in the boxing industry for 33 years.

On a much lighter note, this series might have introduced us to one of the most genuinely likeable contestants The Apprentice has ever seen in the form of Thomas Skinner, a self-described “full-time geezer”. Obviously, that’s not his day job - geezering does not pay very well, especially in this difficult economic climate. He’s a salesman, and a bloody good one - he’s so ridiculously charismatic that he could sell me the very concept of breathing itself and I’d probably pay over the odds for it.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t very good at much else, and was fired by a reluctant Alan Sugar after losing eight out of the nine tasks he’d been involved in. I got thinking, though… couldn’t Alan Sugar just take him on anyway? Considering the lack of success that previous winners have experienced, he honestly might as well. I’m not sure exactly what he would hire him to do, but if anyone can help Thomas realise his dream of actually making a living as a full-time geezer, then I’m sure it’s him.

Personally, I think he deserves all of the money and maybe a knighthood, purely on the basis he’s the first candidate in a long time that hasn’t once described himself as ‘cutthroat’ or ‘brutal’, or made some ridiculous statement about how money is so important to him that he’d probably murder his entire family for a fiver. You know, like they usually do.

This year’s final saw headhunter Scarlett Allen-Horton and artisan bakery owner Carina Lepore go head-to-head for the opportunity to work alongside The Ultimate Sugar Daddy, with the final task being to create a hypothetical launch for their respective businesses.

Step one was to pick a new brand name. Carina and co. decided on Lepore’s, because - as Thomas put it - “people will go for the bread, but they’ll go for you, too”. It’s a nice enough point, but if she’s opening a chain of bakeries, she won’t always be in there, will she? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been disappointed to go into a Blackpool branch of Gregg’s, only to be told that, once again, I’m unable to speak to King Gregg himself. He’s probably hiding in one of his fancy London stores, the big elitist. Scarlett had slightly more trouble with rebranding her recruitment company, which aims to place more women and minorities into top level engineering positions. Marianne helpfully suggested naming it after “those animals that build their own homes”. Beavers. She means beavers. Beaver Recruitment? Really? Not exactly suited to a top level headhunting agency, but on the bright side, she may have just stumbled on a great new way for men to describe going out on the pull.

Next on the agenda was to come up with a billboard and a TV advert. The billboards were both surprisingly good, at least in comparison to anything else filmed against a cheap green screen in this year’s series (the now infamous soundbite “who took my unicorn, Sparkle Stars??” from Toy Week immediately springs to mind). The TV advert task was a different story for Scarlett, who was surprised to find that her ‘vision’ of Lewis, Lottie and Marianne driving an imagery car in an empty warehouse wasn’t absolute advertising golddust. “It’s cheesier than I imagined”, she said, upon seeing it for the first time. How? I genuinely can’t understand how she came up with that and thought it was ever going to look like anything other than part of a hastily-planned GCSE Drama performance. But then I would say that, because as someone who has seen a TV advert before, I’ve technically been in marketing since 1996. On Carina’s team, their prison-themed advert for her artisan bread (no, I’m not sure how they arrived at this idea, either) was far more impressive - prefect from a 1960s comic book Ryan-Mark even managed to put in a convincing performance as a hungry jailbird, which wasn’t something any of us were expecting to see this year.

After this, and the all important pitches - which I’m not going to go into, since it’s consistently the least entertaining part of the finale, where I imagine most people, including me, take a toilet break - it was time for the final boardroom. In all seriousness, the tension in the final boardroom is mad. I can only imagine it’s like you and another person are staring down the barrel of a madman’s gun, except the madman is Alan Sugar, and you want to be shot because, instead of bullets, it’s money. Actually, it’s not like that at all, is it? But it must be absolute squeaky bum time for the candidates, is what I’m trying to say.

After a few minutes of back and forth, and a couple more minutes of Carina and Scarlett turning on each other at the last second - which I’m absolutely, one hundred-percent, completely sure the producers definitely didn’t encourage in any way - The Sugarman arrived at a conclusion, and crowned Carina the winner, with a statement that I’m sure we can all agree with: “I do like the idea of more bread.” Well, don’t we all?

Anyway, deserving winner found - as well as plenty of memorable moments and ridiculous characters along the way - that’s it for another year. The only thing I’m left wondering is why it’s called The Apprentice, since the prize is a £250,000 investment, and since most real life apprentice jobs pay about £3.90 an hour. But then I wonder that every year, and to be honest, I’m all fired out.

[far-away-stars]

THE EXTREMELY DETAILED OC ASK MEME for Iegan AND Apate!! I warned you. :P Stay tuned for more. Probably.

There you are. At the best of my abilities. may it curse your sleep and bless my crops. :’D

under cut cause it’s damn fucking long. 

Illyrio

1. Age, Birthday, Star Sign

So, I don't really have month/day precise birthdays for my ocs? :'D I don't even know how that would work on SW and I suck at star signs so… I can say Illyrio is born in 3682 BBY and that makes him 42 during the events of Makeb (which is the year he meets Muhn, if that works as a reference), and that I fancy calling him a Scorpio cause I guess it kinda fits. 

2. Gender Identity

Cis man. It never really went further for him, he always was comfortable that way.

3. Orientation and Relationship status (single, taken (by who?), crush (on who?))

Bisexual. Married to Muhren in 3637 BBY in canon universe; alternatively fancying his mess agent Blakk in other ones and .. well, both in some others. >>

4. Race and Ethnicity

Human, in SW standards, and then I couldn't really go in many more details 'cause, well, I still kinda want it to apply to his universe rather than trying to stick Earth labels and I don't have a clear faceclaim… let's stick to "not white".

5. Height and Body type

He's 1m77 aka 5'9". He's not overly muscular, but still very much in shape. He has a pretty athletic body even if he's essentially built for agility.

6. Headcanon VA

I cannot find headcanon VA for the love of me, so, well, I suppose simple the Inquisitor VA for now. :'D Euan Morton is a Broadway actor and singer after all.

7. Occupation

Dark Council Elite, leader of the Sphere of Expansion and Diplomacy, with direct oversee on the Voss' diplomatic situation.

8. Weapon of Choice(?)

already answered here

9. Hometown and current residence

He was born on Ziost, in a slave breeding and training facility. He lived some years in an apartment at Dromund Kaas but now has set residence in his mansion on Voss, despite his work not often allows him to spend long periods of time there.

10. Do they have any markings, piercings or scars?

They have a number of scars, most prominent being the slave marking on his face, the whip scaring on his back and the lightsaber mark on his chest.

11. Do they have any notable features, like horns, tails, or so on?

Aside from the slave markings and, I guess, the white hair (not that much of a significant feature when alien races are involved :'D ) he doesn't really have any, no.

12. Own any pets?

Nope, thank the Force, he doesn't have to deal with his daughter's Nexus anymore and he's happier this way. 

13. Have any kids?

Yes, his daughter Khatyrkite, that he had at 23 and adopted when she was 7.

14. Can they cook? Can they bake?

No. Let's leave it to that. :’D

15. Can they sing? Can they dance?

They can sing but it's not that easy to make them. They can formally dance with dignity, but not much else. Too rigid.

16. Can they drive?

Yes, but prefers to be driven around.

17. Can they fight?

Yes, double-bladed lightsaber and Force training. When younger he was also quite dangerous bare-handed but he hasn't trained that skill in a while.

18. Have any special keepsakes?

Not really… his lightsaber, I suppose. Old beads for his braid. But he isn't emotionally attached to many of his belongings. 

Interests

19. Hobbies

Some not-so-light reading, meditation, napping, listening/going to the Opera.

20. Clothing/Aesthetic

Dark clothing with gold accents, rich reds, furs, and expensive tastes. Sith aesthetic meets some vague Arabian vibes and have a hedonist child.

21. Fave food(s) and drink(s)

He likes finger-foods; salty, small quiches are probably some of his favorites. As a drink he likes fruity and spiced wines, cold or hot.

22. Fave Color

Blood red.

23. Fave Genre

History books.

24. Fave Season

Autumn.

25. City or Country?

He spends enough time in the city working, so country for his relaxing times, but he wouldn't give up the comforts of the City easily.

26. Guilty Pleasure

Power? Witch sometimes turns into sex.

Storytime

27. What’s their family like? Who’s in it? What’s their relationship with them?

Before Muhn his family was basically only his daughter, Khatyrkite, and they were close, despite Illyrio's initial efforts not to be so. She grew on him and managed to slowly but surely make his fear more of an after-though. He didn't want to get attached to someone so easy to love. An alien child with no practical education thrown into the Academy of Korriban? Khatyrkite had to work hard to prove she could do it. And he did make her work, considering it necessary that she could prove and defend herself without her father's title to protect her. They have great affection for each other, even of it's often left unspoken, and even if not as strong as before, they still have their Force bond to prove it, even to each other.

28. Are they literate? Did they go to school? How long? What level? 

They are literate, and learned most of his basic knowledge during slave training. The rest he took up keeping company to the young Master during his studies and generally during slave life. Then there was the Sith Academy and then he was taken as an Apprentice and Abraxas finished his education. He learned the rest on the way.

29. What was childhood like?

Not much of a childhood, let's say that. Studies, collars, biological engineering, slave training directed into obedience and alienation to self.

30. What was adolescence like?

Spent serving as a company slave in a high ranking noble family in Ziost. Let's say stunted.

31. What’s their current main conflict?

Finding any peace between overworking and starting to let go but risking losing status/power and a certain state of security born from habit.

32. What steps have they taken to overcome this conflict

Trusting more of his emotional baggage, vulnerability and work on his husband.

33. How have they changed over time?

He has become less.. unstable. Sith training following his slave one had pushed on many of the emotions he had been repressing beforehand, so, well, it made for a powerful Sith, but not much of an emotionally stable individual. He got in touch with more of himself and on what truly he wanted to be for his Muhn. 

For Fun

34. What’s their room look like right now?

It's a mix between his rich but organised deco and Muhn's pretty clutter and his plants. Rich, elegant colors overall, generally elegant but comfortable looking, cushions, big bed, big windows, woods, a library. His room is his comfort place, really, and probably one of the rooms he spends more time in aside from his training room and the gardens.

35. What are they like as a friend?

Bad. Bad-ish.

36. What are they like as a partner?

He.. gets better at it, given a little time. >> The sex is good.

37. Do they have any phobias?

They are not fond of deep waters, but can manage them. They detest Force inhibition devices.

38. Did/do they go anywhere special for vacations?

They haven't gone in one in… dam forever. They wouldn't know at this point, really. It's a mix between wanting to be in a place where he wouldn't be recognized and his desire to keep his status and power close.

39. Your character walks into a cafe. What do they order?

Rich, hot, spiced coffee.

40. What time do they go to bed, usually?

Depends, they are very used to an irregular sleep pattern.

41. What’s their morning routine like?

Depending on how much time they have, the very least composes shower and a minimum of beauty care, they usually pick their clothes the day before. They usually snack something quick if they have the time and take a caff or directly a stim, if need be.

42. What’s the dumbest thing your character’s done?

That's not to be discussed here.

43. What pokemon would your character be (if they’re already a pokemon/gijinka tell us what they are, and how that’s affected them)?

I.. don't really know? Struggling between a dark type or simply a snob-looking one.

44. What’s their pokemon team? Try to pick all 6.

Dear Force, so.. Any snake Pokemon is valid and he should have them, this being said : 

Arbok

Serperior

Ninetales

Spiritomb

Sableye

Chandelure

+if I may, a couple of legendaries that rule the Sith snake aesthetic :

Zygarde

Shiny Mega Rayquaza

45. Theme song (and a playlist if you’ve got it!)

I will always put "How can I refuse" here, no matter the consequences. :'D

46. If this character was in a musical, what would their motif be (what kind of instruments do you hear, what’s the tempo, ect).

Oh my god, I don't have that knowledge. Something low and a bit fear-inducing, but with a melody of strings, violins and violas, cutting it like the fresh falling of rain in between dark, tempest-heavy clouds. Some quiet, deep, rich drums.

The Deep Lore™

47. What was this character’s biggest turning point in their life, something that changed them almost completely?

Discovering he was Force Sensitive.

48. What was their lowest point? What was their highest point?

Lowest : his years at the Academy. Highest : Becoming a Darth/marrying Muhn.

49. What are some themes tied to your character’s story? I'm sorry, I'm getting too stuck with some of those deep© questions, I'm giving them up for now. :'3

50. What are some motifs associated with your character?

Villainous behavior, hedonism, manipulation, pragmatism, hyper-emotionalism.

51. What were some inspirations for your character (people, movies, games)?

Well, the Inquisitor storyline from STWOR, certainly, tho I didn't end up keeping much of it. Aside from that nothing really comes to mind but I'm sure I'm missing stuff. :/ In six years he has been through stuff.

52. How are you and your character the same? How are you different?

We struggle with other people's expectations and we don't want to be seen as weak or exploitable, I suppose. For how different we are I suppose the rest is pretty more obvious, but, mhn, I blame myself much more quickly, despite my barriers, so, well, instead of killing people I just get sad, I suppose. :'3

53. Expectations vs Reality: what did you expect and what did you get with this character?

I expected a hot, sassy, dark side playthrough. I guess I didn't expect the angst, the fluff and the attachment. :'33

54. What does your character want, and what do they need?

He wants power, but he needs to unlearn what truly gives him value.

55. What’s your character’s core trait? What’s their best trait? What’s their worst trait? When happens when these all interact with each other? see point 49.

56. What’s your overall goal with this character? Will they get a happy ending or will they succumb to their faults?

They.. eh. I don't really believe in endings? People go on, one way or another. He's much more than a simple narrative for me, now. If I were to just see how much he has already done in his life I would say he's in a happier place now, so, I'm glad. But that's not who he is either. It's not about getting him fixed, not really

---

Apate

1. Age, Birthday, Star Sign

Born in 3678 BBY, the rest is not in my book. :’3

2. Gender Identity

Non-binary/agender, intersex.

3. Orientation and Relationship status (single, taken (by who?), crush (on who?))

Bisexual, kinda taken by Kitty, but it's in the "it's complicated" folder cause we technically didn't even set a meeting point for them. :'D also, precedently entangled with Mikawlas, and generally involved with many other . >> 

4. Race and Ethnicity

Togruta. Their faceclaim-ish is Ezra Miller, so some ethnic inspiration there.

5. Height and Body type

They are 1m81 aka 5'11". They are slender with some athletic features, especially on the abdominal area. 

6. Headcanon VA

I have no clue. :'D I'm sorry.

7. Occupation

Went from sex worker to owner of the Golden Rose Pleasure Center.

8. Weapon of Choice(?)

Sniper Rifle. They don't really consider their body or their pleasure expertise a weapon, no matter its potentialities.

9. Hometown and current residence

Grew up in a Coruscanti orphanage, now resides on Nar Shadda.

10. Do they have any markings, piercings or scars?

Aside from their natural Togruta markings, nope, and if they were to get them/had got them in the past, wouldn't hesitate to have them removed.

11. Do they have any notable features, like horns, tails, or so on?

Lekku and Montrals? :'D they are curved in the front so they do catch the eye.

12. Own any pets?

No. They didn't have the position for one for a long time and then never really gotten to it. Probably scared they would do a bad job taking care of one.

13. Have any kids?

Nope.

14. Can they cook? Can they bake?

They can't really, no. :'3 they can manage a survivalist meal but they essentially rely on other to get food.

15. Can they sing? Can they dance?

They can't really sing, but it's not a passion of their so they never really did any practice worth of it. They can dance, but only a selection of simple things, essentially for their job. They don't mind dancing casually, and are pretty good at it. At least, they are pretty to look at doing so.

16. Can they drive?

They can, they shouldn't, but they can. :'D

17. Can they fight?

They are better at ranged combat, but they can throw a hell of a fight nonetheless.

18. Have any special keepsakes?

I'm not sure if they have anything of Mikawlas, or even of their orphanage life.. they spent too much time on the street, if they managed to salvage something during those years it would certainly be a precious possession for them. 

Interests

19. Hobbies

Taking care of themself with beauty products or with a mani-pedi is a luxury they couldn't afford for a long time and it does marvels to their mood so they indulge in gladly it when they have some me time. Also they have a sometimes strained relationship with their looks, so making themself pretty makes them happy. Aside from that they like simple pad games, to run and spend some time in shooting ranges.

20. Clothing/Aesthetic

They like shiny, they like precious fabrics, gold, their heels, shorts, skirts and dresses, some fashionable frills and classy, eye-catching outfits. 

21. Fave food(s) and drink(s)

They like experimental foods, jellies and escargots the most probably. If they could only drink vodka and lemon sprite they would. Also champagne.

22. Fave Color

Rose Gold.

23. Fave Genre

Detective/crime stories.

24. Fave Season

They haven't experienced much of those, living mostly in ecumenopolises, so, if it's not artificial weather they probably would have complaints one way or another. Something temperate I suppose, late spring.

25. City or Country?

City.

26. Guilty Pleasure

Aside from sex? Mhn. The thrill of the hunt, maybe. But both of those things have been incorporated in jobs for a long time, so, well, aside from having a particular relationship with both, defining them "guilty" pleasures is complicated. I guess they like being pampered, sexually or not, so there's that.

Storytime

27. What’s their family like? Who’s in it? What’s their relationship with them?

They don't have a family, nor good memories from the orphanage, so, probably the closest they got to family was, first, at Madame's institute, where they really come in touch with a positive collective/community. They started coming in touch with themself and with others in a way that was more than family than ever before. Of course they wanted to rebuild that with the Golden Rose, even if it became with times more "officious" with the number of workers and clients and regulations that came with it. But they do want people to feel safe with the Rose, and want them to feel at least a little bit like family.

28. Are they literate? Did they go to school? How long? What level? 

They are literate, and studied at the orphanage until they left, so, they are not very knowledgeable after that. They didn't continue studies, only tried to pick up some decent bases to start being more independent after Madame picked them up. They worked hard to be functional as owner of the Golden Rose, and that's where they are at. 

29. What was childhood like?

They weren't very happy at the orphanage, didn't felt like they belonged. It ended up with them running away, so...

30. What was adolescence like?

A mix between rebellious orphanage life, naive Nar Shadda and bling/bling fascination and the basically spoiled, responsibility-free life as a Crime Lord doll. It was.. maybe not as practically formative as it could have, overall.

31. What’s their current main conflict? I'm sorry, I'm getting too stuck with some of those deep© questions, I'm giving them up for now. :'3 

32. What steps have they taken to overcome this conflict? see above

33. How have they changed over time?

They became more self-aware, more conscious of themself and their choices. More independent, and such, with a bigger presence, allowing them to also create better and stronger bonds with people. With a helping hand they started shedding all the bad preconceptions they had on their life, even if it really took years and years to come to terms with some truth about themself and their past, but well, they got back on their feet. Now they have a house, they pay bills, they own and handle a host house that oversees many people that Apate wants to protect. So, well, I can't really tell how they changed, cause they didn't, not really. It was still them, all along, but I guess they own themself a bit more every day.

For Fun

34. What’s their room look like right now?

It's a pretty big room, but essentially on the minimalist side. Very clean and shiny, with its marble floors and big window on the High District. It's not cluttered and Apate doesn't spend that much time in it, but when they do they find it more peaceful for it to be essential but pretty and expensive looking in its decor and composition.

35. What are they like as a friend?

Devoted, sometimes harsh and too up-front, but also generous and affectionate.

36. What are they like as a partner?

They haven't had much experience in that field yet, so, maybe, distant, even if not on purpose. They are not really used to the practicality of building ties so ever-present and strong, they are still very much used to deal with things on their own. But very sweet, very tactile, very inquisitive, playful.

37. Do they have any phobias?

Of losing themself in someone's idea of them. Again.

38. Did/do they go anywhere special for vacations?

They haven't taken a vacation in ages, they want to quite bad. Anything different from Nar Shadda would be welcome, but they probably want the pampering vacation treatment. They do have an affinity for water, because of their ex, so maybe somewhere they could swim a bit.

39. Your character walks into a cafe. What do they order?

Everyday something different, they don't like caff but drinks it daily so spicing things up is their way. Now it's usually Terjam that buys caff for them, so they enjoy being surprised.

40. What time do they go to bed, usually?

It depends, the Rose usually "opens" late in the morning and closes later at night, but it depends if there are events or not, and if Apate has plans or not. They are more akin to the night life, and Nar Shadda Never really sleeps, so it's not unusual for them and some friends to have late evening shopping sprees or date nights or such. It will depend on how much work there had been during the day.

41. What’s their morning routine like?

They take their time. They wake up slow and then stretch and drink water and then shower, quick breakfast with either milk/yogurt/sweet cheese and some fruits while listening to radio/the news, and then make up and dressing up and then to the Golden Rose where they take a coffee and some pastries with Terjam before starting work around 10:00.

42. What’s the dumbest thing your character’s done?

Thinking it was a good idea to escape to Nar Shadda with no money or friends or knowledge of the city at the peak of 15 years old.

43. What pokemon would your character be (if they’re already a pokemon/gijinka tell us what they are, and how that’s affected them)?

Zughhh... Tsareena.

44. What’s their pokemon team? Try to pick all 6.

Shiny Goldeen

Gorebyss

Mega Diancie

Mega Altaria

Alola Ninetails

Sylveon

45. Theme song (and a playlist if you’ve got it!)

I don't really have one, ahh… Lady Gaga-ish feelings, but not as "hard".

46. If this character was in a musical, what would their motif be (what kind of instruments do you hear, what’s the tempo, ect).

Mhn, something lively and clear, but with a solid accompaniment, like some piano. Maybe a discrete but deep beat underneath, like almost a techno base.

The Deep Lore™

47. What was this character’s biggest turning point in their life, something that changed them almost completely?

There's been two. One when Mikawlas died, and Apate found themself mourning, furious, hurt and dependent on the little skills they had to survive from there on. The second was when Madame picked them up and helped them detox and then got them back on their way to manage themself independently and redefine boundaries in a way that could better connect them to themself and a thriving comfort zone.

48. What was their lowest point? What was their highest point?

Apate almost lost themself, and skipped many steps of their emotional and practical development growing up in not-so-healthy environments. They never really had a family, they rushed and yet mellowed through their adolescence without any real friends of their age, they suffered a big loss pretty young and then started living off favours and on the street without really a support and foundation to evolve. 

Then they got back to their feet, and found their ambitious drive again, and created the Golden Rose and wasn't that just *chef kiss*.

49. What are some themes tied to your character’s story?

Former drug addiction, stunt in personal growth and past trauma being overcome, sex work and its relation to their own sex drive and desire, curiosity and extroversion, sex positivism, grooming, fashion and beauty care.

50. What are some motifs associated with your character?

Unsuspected assassin, Diva, fashion expert, sexy and capable, sass master.

51. What were some inspirations for your character (people, movies, games)?

Mhnhnjnnnn I dunno. There are pieces here and there but.. nothing that flashes in my mind. 

52. How are you and your character the same? How are you different?

We like shiny things. They can pull it off.

53. Expectations vs Reality: what did you expect and what did you get with this character?

A character for smutty action, and I kinda got myself into angst but also a more vivacious and free-willed character I expected. 

54. What does your character want, and what do they need?

They want the Golden Rose to thrive, they probably need a vacation.

55. What’s your character’s core trait? What’s their best trait? What’s their worst trait? When happens when these all interact with each other? see point 31

56. What’s your overall goal with this character? Will they get a happy ending or will they succumb to their faults?

Same as Illy's point.

[acuppellarp]

Welcome (again) to A Cup-pella, Jeanne! We’re excited to have you and Haley Sterling in the game! Please go through the checklist to make sure you’re ready to go and send in your account within the next 24 hours. 

OOC INFO

Name + pronouns: Jeanne Age: 25 Timezone: EST Ships: Haley/Chemistry, Haley/Nerdiness Anti-Ships: Haley/NoChem

IC INFO

Full Name: Haley Nicole Sterling Face Claim: Virginia Gardner Age/Birthday: 23 / September 17, 1995 Occupation: Part-time acup barista, part-time level 1 instructor through NYC Ultra Gymnastics, part-time student at NYU, defender for April’s Showers Personality: Competitive, impulsive, determined, naive, ditzy Hometown: San Francisco, CA

Bio:

Oh, the Sterling family. If there was ever a group more fitted for a reality TV show on TLC, it was them. That’s how an outsider would see it, at least. For Haley, it was just her family. The first few years of her life were spent loving her parents and little sister, and then her second mom and her second dad came into the picture. Whenever she went over to her friends houses growing up, they introduced her to their parents. Haley did the same, it just so happened she had a few more parents than them. It wasn’t the picture that she saw on TV, but that didn’t really matter. She had a family that loved and doted on her, that’s what mattered. She was an incredibly content child - set her out in the backyard to run around and play, and she was a happy camper. Or set her up in her bedroom, playing with her little sister (once upon a time, Jemma really did play with barbie dolls properly). She was content, and she was friendly, always running up to strangers and asking if they wanted to be her friend. Needless to say, her parents had to have the stranger danger talk with her more times than she can count, but the fact remains that Haley has always been a people person, easily able to settle into a crowd.

Dedication isn’t a word many people would associate with Haley even today, and it never has been. She comes across as having her head in the clouds 9 times out of 10 and she wasn’t exactly a contender for valedictorian. She’s not the person you to go if you’re looking for reliability, and that’s why a lot of people are thrown off when they find out she’s been honing her skills as a gymnast since the age of 4. It wasn’t some kind of “love at first sight” moment, where Haley knew she wanted to make it her life from day one. On the contrary, she remembers crying in frustration when she couldn’t get a somersault down as easily as the other kids in her class (granted it was within the first week of classes, but Haley’s child mind didn’t care about that).

That’s why it was so invigorating when she finally nailed it by week two… Haley’s never been known for her patience, you see, but the one thing she’s got going for her is that she doesn’t quit. She doesn’t quit because of that same excitement she got when she perfected that first somersault right, followed by her first cartwheel, her first handstand, mastering her first forward tuck and everything over the next few years as she climbed up the levels. She was 8 years old, level 9, when she got her first first place award on the uneven bars, subsequently helping her team take home the win as well. That, my friends, is when Haley fell in love with the sweet taste of victory.

There wasn’t time for Haley to ever cultivate many other areas of extracurricular interest. She’d arrive at school an hour before classes started to make use of the gym’s empty weight room for strength and conditioning, and immediately after school she would make her way down to the gymnastics center for more hours worth of practice. Her dedication and prowess in the sport are what helped her lock in a scholarship offered by NYC Ultra, a gymnastics club located not too far away from NYU’s campus. The school itself didn’t have a gymnastics program, but NYC Ultra had scouted her during her final meet during high school and offered to help fund her higher education if she joined their team upon moving. And its a good thing they did, because her grades certainly wouldn’t be earning her any academic scholarships.

Leaving her family had her balling like a baby, but Haley found herself settling in to New York City life eventually. It was a much different pace than San Francisco, that was for sure. Still, Haley prides herself on never really feeling like a fish out of water, especially since she quickly made friends with the other members of her gym and then at school. Her decision to major in social work was based in her family’s own unconventional-but-still-good history, and as much as she struggled to maintain her school, practice, and work schedules, she did find herself liking the course she was on. She was a full-time student for her first two years, but recently after much debate and guidance from people significantly smarter than her, Haley made the choice to go from full-time student to part-time student.

At the same time, she also made the decision to retire from competing in gymnastics and try her hand at coaching, something she’s discovered a love for. She’s now certified to teach entry-level gymnastics, and she thinks she’s found a good balance to her life. It also lost her her academic scholarship, but with the time she’s freed up from her previously strict practice schedule and full-time course-load, it’s all been a relief. She can study without feeling pressured to make it a priority, and is able to both work and be involved in athletics at a pace that lets her enjoy herself rather than feeling constantly stressed. Sure her schedule is pretty packed, but it’s all things that bring her happiness, so it’s worth it.

See, the thing with Haley is that if she isn’t interested in something, it falls to the wayside. But once she finds her passion and groove, she is all in. That’s the reason why she can’t sit through an algebra class without daydreaming, but she’ll give you a point-by-point breakdown of why Laurie Hernandez should’ve taken the gold for the Women’s balance beam during the 2016 Olympics, or make an entire PowerPoint on why Digimon trumps Pokemon (she’s still gotta catch ‘em all though, make no mistake). She knows what she loves and doesn’t waste her time or energy on things that won’t end up bringing her personal happiness and fulfillment. Is that a good way to be successful in life? Probably not, but has it helped Haley get through the last 23 years with minimal sadness and reason to say she didn’t give something her all? Absolutely, 100%, a thousand times yes.

Pets: Haley has had iced coffees last longer than some goldfish. She’s pretty much given up on trying to keep any kind of pet alive at this point, so instead she has her bedroom windowsill decorated with succulents. They’re less likely to ruin her carpet and lose her her deposit.

Relationships:

Jemma Sterling — She’s the first person to admit that Jemma is far from perfect, but she’ll also attempt to rip anyone’s head off who dares insult or undersell her baby sister. Watch it, folks. Haley adores Jemma, even if she does worry her from time to time with just how… we’ll say just how “free” she can be. It’s probably not the best idea, but she trusts Jemma wholeheartedly. In a way, Haley is a little envious of how open her sister is with everything, but that’s a story for another time. She still loves her to the moon and back and then to the moon and back again.

Blair Anderson — Haley and Blair dated for a short time, but that didn’t make it hurt any less when the broke up. Or at least Haley calls it a break up — she won’t say it out loud, but a part of her felt completely jilted and forgotten about when Blair went on her cruise. It’s been months since they’re brief fling, and while Haley hates being anything less than UBER SUNSHINE HAPPINESS, she’s also still angry with Blair. Could she suck it up and just talk to her to get resolution? Of course she could. Has she? Absolutely not, Haley lacks that kind of foresight for common sense.

April’s Showers — Even though she replaced being on a gymnastics team with coaching, Haley did miss the extra boost of athleticism that came with constantly being in practice. She got the idea to join April’s soccer team from her sister, and it’s definitely been a big help in keeping her endorphin levels high and her laziness levels low. It feeds in to her competitive nature, and she digs almost everyone on the team so far. Being on the same team as her sister means they have to share the family brain cell at the same time, but Haley’s enjoying herself.

EXTRA INFO

mmmhalebop ☄️ / HaleyStorm / i’m secretly the fourth member of Hanson

Five latest tweets:

@HaleyStorm: @marvelstudios pls call my insurance company and tell them you’ll cover the surgery to have the heart you ripped out of my chest replaced @HaleyStorm: manny santos hiking up her thong will always be iconic #whateverittakes @HaleyStorm: #gymnastsecret - if you see me hold a position on the bar too long, it’s bc i 100% blanked on the rest of the routine @HaleyStorm: tba @HaleyStorm: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! guess who just saw a dog, me it was me you don’t have to guess

[quicksilversquared]

How to Fake A Marriage Ch. 28

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(AO3) (FF.net)

Ben had been right about the number of research papers and other writing assignments that Adrien had for his second semester of classes. The two of them had spent one tutoring session inspecting all of the rubrics that Adrien had been handed in his first few days of the semester and putting together a rough schedule of where he should be for all of his papers and projects at certain points in the semester. It wasn't nearly as overwhelming broken down like that, but Adrien still pushed himself to get ahead of the schedule, spending all of his days finding research papers that he could reference whenever he wasn't in class.

The twinge in his back that had popped up during his first semester got worse. Adrien spent several minutes every hour trying to twist and stretch it out before returning to his readings, but it only alleviated the ache for a little while.

The extra work early on in the semester was going to be worth it, in the end. Adrien wasn't sure that Ben had taken into account the fact that it took him a bit longer than most of his classmates to read the research papers and articles that he was using, since they were largely in English instead of French, so really, he was just putting the extra work now to make sure that he would be on schedule later on.

Adrien wasn't the only one who was intensely busy. Marinette had gotten a fair number of inquiries about commissions after Jagged Stone's album dropped and it got out that she had designed covers and dressed several other singers and bands, and she had spent several hours responding to those emails once the holidays were over. A surprising number of the inquiries had been dropped after Marinette informed people about her prices (and Adrien had to grin remembering Marinette's infuriated spluttering whenever someone complained and tried to counter with a much lower price offer; she had blocked several people instead of replying, since her reply probably would have included a bit of rather unprofessional swearing), but there were a couple more bands that had reached out with legitimate requests and they were completely willing to pay Marinette's prices. Adrien had spotted his girlfriend creating some sort of spreadsheet to keep track of the requests before diving in to her first round of preliminary sketches.

(The sketches that he had seen so far were really cool.)

"Are you still reading that stupid paper?"

Adrien sighed as Plagg's voice jolted him out of his thoughts. He turned around to see his kwami lurking behind him, looking utterly bored. "It's not stupid, it's a highly researched and peer-reviewed paper. And no, I was, uh..."

"Daydreaming about your wife?" Plagg jeered, grinning and spinning around Adrien's head. "She'll be home soon enough and then you'll get to see her face then."

Adrien rolled his eyes, trying not to blush. "That's not- never mind." A pause. "And she's not my wife. Yet."

Plagg gagged loudly and Adrien aimed a swat at him. "Did you need something, or did you just come over to annoy me?"

"Cheese!"

Adrien groaned- he should have known- and hopped up to go fetch Plagg's snack. He had to roll his neck to get the crimps out of it, and something cracked loudly. Adrien cringed- that didn't sound good- but at least it seemed that he hadn't injured anything. Plagg wasn't paying him any attention, too busy zipping impatiently around the fridge and rambling on about what kind of cheese he was most in the mood for.

Naturally.

Once Plagg was settled down with a variety plate, Adrien headed back to the table and woke his computer back up so he could resume reading his way through the paper's summary to see if it was something he could use. He was just working his way through the introduction and taking notes on some of the things they mentioned when hands slid over his shoulders and started massaging. Adrien sat back with a purr, letting his head loll back far enough to see Marinette and Tikki behind him.

"Working hard, kitten?" Marinette asked. Her hand slid over his shoulder and under his jaw, tilting his head back so she could kiss him. "How was class?"

"It was interesting," Adrien told her. "I had my class about space today, and that's my favorite. And the lab class was pretty good, too. And then I got together with Ben for an hour and a half to talk about my Electromagnetics class. That one is a doozy to try to keep up with."

Marinette could only smile and nod at that. Adrien grinned. He knew that she tried to keep up with what he was talking about in his classes, she really did, but she hadn't had any math or science classes since back in lycée and he had gotten to some seriously higher-level stuff. The fact that she was willing to sit and listen to him rambling on about some theorem or another when he got excited about something was amazing, it really was. She could be completely lost but she wouldn't interrupt him or try to change the topic. She even tried to ask questions about whatever it was that he was talking about, which proved that she actually listened, even if she couldn't follow what he was saying at all.

It was more than Adrien could have ever said about his father. Even with the topic was one of his photoshoots, Mr. Agreste only ever listened with one ear at most.

Adrien let himself relax as Marinette's hands worked magic on his shoulders and neck. She wasn't a professional or anything at it- her hands had a tendency to wander a little aimlessly, and sometimes they wandered into his hair and petted him for a few minutes instead before going back to massaging his shoulders- but it still felt fantastic.

"What about you?" Adrien asked after a further few minutes of massaging. "How was your day?"

Marinette grinned. "Oh, it was good. We did a few collab designs, and they turned out pretty well. There were a few silk-and-leather combinations, and I think one of them might make the runway."

"Oh, cool."

"And I heard from Alya, too," Marinette added. "She's still gloating that she got her Ladynoir interview before Mrs. Chamack. Apparently the traffic on the Ladyblog has been higher than it has been in years."

Adrien tried his best not to laugh at the smug look on Marinette's face. Mrs. Chamack hadn't gotten any interview from the superheroes about their newly-confirmed relationship at all, while the duo had specifically orchestrated their 'patrol' to run into Alya and talk to her. Adrien suspected that Marinette was perhaps still a little bit sore about the woman interrogating Ladybug and Chat Noir about their relationship status so often and putting them on the spot in her studio the few times they came in.

(Also, he wasn't going to argue with her about that. Alya, overeager as she could be at times, could apparently recognize when to back off with her questions. Madam Chamack, driven by gossip-focused ratings, would push and push until the superheroes snapped and took their leave abruptly, and that never reflected terribly well on them.)

"And she's obsessing over the contest forms again," Marinette added. She looked much less smug about that, and Adrien had to try not to laugh at her exasperated expression. "And getting all of her research summarized and organized. There's some things that she has to leave out for space, and she keeps wondering if she should try to shorten her other sections so she can fit little details back in."

"Doesn't she get to submit a more lengthy summary of her research if she gets to the later stages of the contest?" Adrien wanted to know. "I thought that was what she said at Christmas. And she knows that it'll be a better idea to focus on the users that she does know a lot about and has gotten a lot of research done for right away. If she just does little odds and ends on everyone, the committee might think that that's all she can find and it isn't worth the money to send her places."

Marinette gasped. "Oh! Yeah, that's exactly what she needs to hear. Hold on a second, I have to text her that." Her hands left his shoulders, and Adrien mourned. "I don't mind hearing about her progress, of course, and I don't mind offering my opinion to help her, but all the back and forth and second-guessing herself is starting to drive me a little crazy."

Adrien couldn't blame her. Now that she mentioned it, he remembered a series of texts from Nino groaning about how Alya kept pestering him with questions about things that they had already discussed. She kept second-guessing and running herself in circles with worry.

Hopefully Alya would calm down soon. It wouldn't do her any good to be stressing out and potentially ruining a perfectly good application.

"Did anything else interesting happen today?" Adrien asked after Marinette's phone had returned to her pocket and her hands had returned to kneading his shoulders. He was startled when she suddenly groaned.

"I got another idiot trying to get a commission," Marinette said, sounding suddenly grouchy. "Someone who wanted something ridiculously fancy for a ridiculously low price. I told them how much it would actually cost, not that I would actually accept them when I have so many other things to do, and then they sent back a message accusing me of highway robbery. There were some curse words, so I blocked them." She groaned. "I just have to hope that none of these idiots start complaining to Madam Rosalie about me, but I suppose she wouldn't take them seriously."

"How are these people getting your email in the first place?" Adrien asked, completely baffled. "Do you have, like, a website for commissions that I don't know about or something?"

Marinette shook her head. "No, I don't. If I did, I bet I'd never get any rest from answering emails. Most of the legit inquiries I get are from bands and singers that probably just asked Jagged Stone how to get in contact with me. Everyone else got my work email from the company website. A couple of those inquiries were legit, but most are just idiots who expect an original designer piece to only cost as much as something from a department store. And a cheap department store, at that."

"Could you ask to have your email removed from the company page?" Adrien suggested. "It sounds like it might be a problem to have it up."

Marinette shook her head. "I have to have it up. And there's fewer people bugging me every week. It really wouldn't do much at this point."

Adrien hoped that she was right. He didn't like the idea of people calling Marinette names or trying to cause problems for her just because she dared demand that she be paid fairly for her work.

(He wasn't going to lie- if someone actually did cause trouble for her, he wouldn't hesitate to transform and show up on the idiot's doorstep with a few choice words for them. No one messed with his Lady and got away with it.)

"And I suppose I really shouldn't worry at all about people emailing Madam Rosalie," Marinette continued, oblivious to Adrien's mental plans of destruction. "If they mention pricing at all, she would just laugh at them. She's been there before, back when she was just starting out. And she helped me set my prices too, her and Mrs. Kelly. Otherwise I probably would have set stuff too low, and that's no good when establishing a customer base."

"Are all of your customers bands, then? Or are there some individuals, too?"

"It's all bands or singers. Any private individuals who wanted me to design something ended up being idiots about the price, or at least they just dropped the idea when I gave them base price estimations." Apparently done for now with her massaging, Marinette finally sat down at the table next to Adrien and pulled her tablet out of her bag. The protective cover for it had come in the mail just over a week after Christmas, and Marinette had picked out a leafy pattern. It was really pretty, and more importantly, Marinette loved it. Adrien glanced over her shoulder as she powered it up and caught sight of an in-progress album cover. It was darker and had more black and grey than she ever did with Jagged Stone's albums, but it still screamed rock, or maybe metal. It looked really cool. "And I'm busy enough that I think I would just accept bands at this point anyway. They kind of provide free advertisement."

"Hopefully that's the last of that kind of requester, then." With one last glance at the paper he had been perusing and his notes, Adrien stood up and stretched. His back let out a loud crack, making Marinette jump. He gave her a sheepish grin as he headed into the kitchen, shrugging when she looked concerned.

His back cracking had actually felt kind of good. It relieved some of the painful pressure that had built up over the afternoon. Adrien twisted and stretched again, and this time was rewarded with a series of pops.

Much better.

Adrien started work on dinner as Marinette worked on her commission. He paused often to glance over at his girlfriend as she worked, her brow gently furrowed as she added details to the piece. Tikki alternately perched on Marinette's shoulder and flew around the room, occasionally popping into the kitchen to check on Adrien and snag a cookie from the jar that Marinette had sitting on the counter. Plagg napped on the window ledge, curled up in the last dying ray of sun.

Adrien spooned the casserole mixture he had been working on into a pan and slid it into the oven before sticking his head back out into the living room area. Marinette had left the table and was kneeling on the floor, cutting out some pattern pieces from her special patterning paper.

"Done with the cover art?" Adrien asked. That was fast. Marinette had gotten a lot of the piece done, sure, but he hadn't thought that she would be able to finish it so fast.

Much to his surprise, Marinette shook her head. "No, not yet. There's still a bit of work to be done with sharpening up some of the shadows and contrast, but I can do that whenever. I just figured that I should get some of the outfit work done while I'm at home."

Adrien nodded and headed back into the kitchen to chop up some fruit for a salad. Tikki swooped down to steal a few pieces before Adrien tipped everything into a bowl and stuck it in the fridge.

"Your dietician would be proud of you for eating healthy," she told him as she settled down on the counter. "It's hard to when you first move out, I know. I've heard people complaining about not wanting to make more dishes just so they could have a fruit salad, and that they would rather just stick to the main dish."

Adrien grinned and raised his voice slightly so he could be sure that Marinette would hear. "I see. And would I be correct in assuming that by people you mean Marinette?"

The "Hey!" from the other room came in loud and clear. Adrien's grin widened and Tikki giggled.

"That's exactly what I meant," Tikki whispered loudly. "Whenever she was on a designing kick, she wouldn't take the time to eat right if she wasn't eating at the same time as her parents! And then she was starting to do the same thing when she came here, before you moved to London."

"What is she telling you, Adrien?" Marinette demanded from the next room over. "Don't believe any of it!"

Adrien just laughed.

It wasn't long before dinner was done and he was pulling it out of the oven. Plagg had finally moved, his ray of sunlight long gone and the windowsill now a bit chilly. Now he was situated on top on the back of the stove, munching on a slice of Gruyere and relishing in the heat floating up.

Adrien set the table as the dish cooled a little so it would set, then waited until Marinette had sat up from her work before interrupting. She had moved on from the patterning paper to cutting actual fabric, and he didn't want to startle her and make her cut something wrong. "Bugaboo, dinner is ready."

Marinette set her rotary cutter aside and popped up. "Really? Great!"

It didn't take long at all to eat, and then Adrien shooed Marinette off to keep working while he cleaned up. It was a fairly transparent attempt to avoid his papers for just a bit longer, but Marinette didn't tease him about it at all. It wasn't that long of a delay- having done some of the washing-up while waiting for the casserole to bake had that effect- and then Adrien was settling back down in front of his computer to finish reading and taking notes on the paper he had been partway through when Marinette arrived home. He had just finished with that and was about to open the next paper (this time the paper was thankfully in French, which would make reading it just a bit quicker) when he remembered something that he wanted to ask Marinette.

Adrien turned around in his chair, once again waiting until Marinette's scissors and her fabric were no longer in contact before saying anything. "Hey, Marinette?"

Marinette sat back on her heels, glancing over. "Yeah?"

"What would you think about having Ben over for dinner some night?" Adrien asked. "I'd cook, of course. But I just realized earlier today that I've been talking about him for months but you two haven't ever met."

"Oh, sure!"

"He's got a lot of interesting stories to tell," Adrien said, spinning around in his chair to straddle it backwards and watch Marinette instead of going back to reading his paper. Marinette had gone back to cutting out pieces of fabric, but she was clearly still listening. "Since he took a gap year and all. And his family always traveled when he was a kid." He grinned. "They apparently went to France one year, so he was trying to tell me about it in French. And, uh, I appreciated the enthusiasm and all, but he hasn't taken French classes or practiced at all for, like, five or six years." He grinned at the memory. Ben had tried, he really had, but the story had finally ended up being told in a strange mix of French and English. "Maybe he can try again when he comes over. Will any time in the next, say, two-ish weeks work?"

"Any day except next Thursday," Marinette said, and Adrien frowned. Had he missed something going on at Marinette's work? He had thought that he knew everything that was going on at Madam Rosalie's.

"Wait, what's next Thursday?"

Plagg snickered. Tikki looked appalled. Marinette just gave him a Look.

"Adrien?"

"Yeah?"

"Next Thursday is Valentine's Day."

  Adrien and Marinette's Valentine's Day stay-in date ended up being planned half by Marinette and half by Adrien. Once he realized that the holiday was approaching (and how he had forgotten, he really had no idea) Adrien had wanted to be the one to plan it. After all, he did technically tend to have more free time than Marinette, since he was only at school for a couple hours a day and could easily move his study sessions and homework to other days, and he had romantic ideas practically bubbling out of his head. But Marinette hadn't been content to let him do all of the work, so they finally agreed that he would cook dinner and she would make dessert and they would both contribute to the decorations in their (well, technically still just his) apartment.

Adrien called dibs on the music soundtrack, though. He knew what songs he wanted to play, and he knew Marinette's favorite songs, and he had spent several hours brainstorming with Tikki while Marinette worked on her latest commissions. It had turned out well, he thought, mixing soft romantic music with music that was a little more their style but that still had a definite love theme.

And once they got everything set out and prepared, their Valentine's date was definitely romantic. Marinette had somehow managed to get a large vase of roses and baby's breath flowers smuggled into the building (she swore up and down that there was no chance that any reporters could have found out, but she refused to tell him how she had managed that), and Adrien set out cookie-scented candles around the room and set up a lovely red tablecloth and fancy place settings. They both dressed up, and then sat down to a steak dinner.

(The kwamis agreed to stay out of the way in Marinette's apartment, accompanied by a large wheel of cheese and a stack of cookies.)

Thankfully, it had turned out perfectly. Adrien had been really worried about accidentally under- or over-cooking it. His cooked vegetable medley- a recipe that he had gotten from his family's chef over the break- turned out just as well.

"You know, if someone told fifteen-year-old me that you would be able to cook so well, I wouldn't have believed them," Marinette told Adrien as she polished off her last few bites. "Remember that time that you and Nino tried to make snacks for one of our study sessions back in our first year of lycée?"

Adrien groaned. "Don't remind me. Oh, those were awful. We definitely screwed something up when we were mixing up that dip, and who even knows where we went wrong with the mini pizzas. I'm so glad that we had prepackaged stuff that we could still snack on, or that would have been a long study session." He polished off the last of his vegetables, dragging one of the potatoes along the plate to wipe up the last of the sauce. "I'm glad that Alya was willing to teach me how to cook. I hated not knowing what I was doing when we were cooking. And I like being able to actually eat what I make."

"You learned well," Marinette told him. "I know some people who got taught and still can only make the basics. This?" She gestured at her now-empty plate. "This is far, far more than the basics."

Adrien preened.

"Do we want dessert right away?" Marinette asked several minutes later as Adrien brought their dishes out to the kitchen. "Or do we want to have a break first and let dinner settle?"

"Let things settle, I think. Then I can fit in more of your amazing chocolate cake." Adrien made sure that all of the dishes were out and what needed to be soaking was filled with water and soap, and then he headed back towards the table. On the way, he snagged the heart-shaped box of chocolate that he had picked up on his way home from school and the smaller box that he had wrapped earlier in the day. "Besides, I wanted to give you something before we have our dessert."

Marinette twisted in her seat to watch him and her eyes went wide when she saw the box. "Adrien..."

"I couldn't go and buy anything fancy," Adrien assured her as he pushed the box of chocolates and the small box on top of it across the table. "I'm pretty sure people would notice if I went to a jewelry store or something. But I couldn't go completely without any gifts."

"I don't need anything fancy," Marinette assured him. "Or any gifts, really. The drawing tablet you got me for Christmas was already more than enough. And spending time with you is a gift, too."

Adrien grinned over at her. "I know. But I wanted to get you something. What kind of cat would I be if I didn't get you a present?"

Marinette paused, hand hovering over the small wrapped box, and gave Adrien a deeply suspicious look. "Why do I get the sudden feeling that I know what this is?"

He just pasted on his most innocent look. "I'm sure I don't know what you might be talking about."

Sighing, Marinette pulled the wrapping off and opened the box. Inside, a dove-shaped bar of soap sat among pale pink tissue paper. She lifted it up and sniffed, then looked pleased. "It smells like baking spices! Cinnamon and nutmeg and-" another deep breath- "and allspice. I love it! Thanks, kitty."

"I spent a couple days hunting that down," Adrien told her, delighting in Marinette's loud groan. "But I couldn't show up empty-pawed."

"Adrien."

He just grinned at her, unrepentant. The soap had been a great find and he was totally going to stock up on more of them before they left London, just to be sure that he would have them for presents for years to come, because watching Marinette groan and roll her eyes while trying not to laugh was never going to get old.

"I do love it, even if you're ridiculous," Marinette said again, setting the box back down and leaning over to kiss him. "And I have something for you, too. I managed to find the time to make it at work during one of my breaks, and I think you'll like it." She handed over a shoebox-sized box wrapped in what looked like homemade paper, with hearts and cats stamped all over light pink paper. It was adorable, and Adrien did his best to not rip it as he opened the box. Something made with cat-patterned fabric sat inside, and Adrien picked it up curiously. It was stuffed with something small and grainy, and Adrien looked to Marinette for an explanation.

"It's a heating pad," Marinette explained. "Filled with rice, because that seemed to be the best thing to use. You stick it in the microwave for a minute and then put it on your back, or your neck, or your lap, or whatever you want. I know you like heat, and I thought it might be nice to use on cold days or just to curl up with. And they're really good for back aches, too."

"I love it!" Adrien was always planning ways to use it. Maybe he could stick it in his bed to warm the sheets up before he slid in when he went to bed before Marinette, or just hang out with it on the couch, or use it when he had sat at the table for too long doing homework and his back started to hurt. The cat pattern was adorable, and- Adrien unrolled it- yeah, he hadn't been seeing things. The fabric on the back side of the heating pad was green with little red ladybugs scattered all over.

It was Ladybug and Chat Noir themed, and he loved it even more.

"I know I've loved heated blankets when I've had them on tour, and this is gonna be like a miniature heated blanket," Adrien continued happily. "Thank you! And it's so cute, too."

Marinette was grinning. "I knew I had to use those patterns as soon as I saw them," she said. "They're just perfect for us. And I got more fabric of both just to make sure that I would have some for whatever other projects I might want to do in the future. These kinds of patterns have an annoying habit of being discontinued right after I discover them."

Adrien tried not to laugh at the grumpy expression she made at her words. He had to wonder how many times she found the perfect fabric for something, only to have it vanish before she could buy it. At least at Madam Rosalie's, she could just make the perfect fabric on demand.

...well, it was probably a little more complicated than that, but from what Adrien could tell, Marinette could have free rein with fabric design if she so desired, and she had regularly been designing patterns for her team's pieces.

The evening continued with them spending some time snuggled together on the couch, talking about everything and nothing all at once. It was comfortable and warm, even if it wasn't too terribly different than what they did normally. After twenty minutes of that, Marinette pulled Adrien up so they could dance to the music still playing from the speakers Adrien had set up. They waltzed around the cramped space in the living room, sometimes turning a little sharper than normal to avoid hitting the chairs or the couch.

"The carpet is messing me up," Adrien said with a laugh as his shoe snagged a bit on the carpet and sent him tripping into Marinette for the third time that night. A second later, he was catching Marinette as she tripped over her heels. "We really need a proper hardwood floor to dance like this really well."

"I also need to know how to dance for us to be dancing really well, but details," Marinette teased him as she righted herself. The song ended and she led the way back to the table. "I haven't had the fancy-pants training that you've had. My hold is probably all wrong or something."

She was right, but Adrien wasn't about to go full nerd on her and admit it. "Have you been watching too much of that dancing show on TV again? Because that sounds like a comment that one of their judges would make."

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him instead of responding, effectively distracting Adrien for several minutes. When they finally separated several minutes later, he had more or less forgotten what they had been talking about. His distraction was fully completed when Marinette promptly headed into the kitchen to fetch the cake she had made and served it up with a generous scoop of ice cream.

It was a lava-style cake, rich and fudgy and fluffy all at the same time. Adrien hummed happily as he let the first bite melt in his mouth. Clearly it had been a good idea to agree to let Marinette make the dessert. As always, she did not disappoint.

"I was going to put heart-shaped sprinkles on top, but the store had sold out," Marinette told him as they ate. She made a slight face. "I thought that I had looked plenty early, but apparently everyone in London really wanted heart sprinkles for Valentine's Day."

Adrien laughed. He couldn't help it, she just looked so disgruntled. "It's plenty tasty without sprinkles, bugaboo."

"It just would have been good for color," Marinette grumbled. She stabbed her fork into her cake and took a bite. Her expression immediately smoothed out and her eyes closed as she enjoyed the cake. Adrien grinned.

Marinette would probably never comment like he often did about how good the cake was because that was all she was used to, but he knew that she always enjoyed her own baking.

The candles flickered lower as they finished up their desserts. Adrien scraped the bottom of his bowl, trying to get up every last delicious crumb before they brought their dishes into the kitchen.

(He would have licked his bowl, but he had been raised better than that. Besides, there were plenty of leftovers for them to have other days.)

"I haven't heard anything from Alya today," Marinette commented as they washed up their dishes. She giggled. "I'm guessing that Nino managed to distract her from the contest at long last."

"I'm just glad that the entries were due yesterday," Adrien said. He took the newly-washed plate from her and started drying it. "It's too bad the deadline was so close to Valentine's Day. You would think that they might put it a bit sooner since, y'know, Valentine's and all. People can't plan as well if they're stressing over entering."

"I think it has something to do with the contest people not wanting to have to deal with having to wade through the entries before Valentine's Day," Marinette joked. "If they have the contest closing date on the 13th, then they don't have to read anything before the 14th, and they won't be distracted on Valentine's Day thinking about the entries."

Adrien let out a hum of thought. Part of him wanted to laugh at Marinette's joking theory, but upon second thought... well, she might be right. He had seen how obsessed Alya could get when she found a topic that she found intriguing, and from what he could tell, it was a common trait among reporters. He could see where the contest council members might get distracted by some of the more original ideas being presented, and that might keep them from being able to fully focus on whoever they were spending Valentine's Day with.

Well, if they were spending the day with someone. He knew that not everyone paid attention to Valentine's Day (he certainly hadn't before this year), so maybe the unfortunate timing was just due to the organizers not really paying attention to the significance of the date.

"Either way, I'm glad that the contest is closed now and I won't wake up to fifteen messages from Alya asking about wording for a specific section or whether or not she should include some specific detail," Marinette said. She put the pot she had just washed in the drying rack and reached for the last plate. "I mean, I understood, because this is such a big opportunity, but I've never seen her so anxious. Also, I'm not the one with a degree in writing! How was I supposed to know which wording was better?"

"I had thought that she had been planning on having everything ready and entering as soon as the contest opened this year," Adrien said. Maybe he had misunderstood, but he was almost positive that Alya hadn't wanted to wait until last minute to enter. And then instead of entering, she spent the two-week entry period fiddling around with her submission, changing word order and fiddling with the details. "But so much for that. Hopefully she wins this year so she doesn't have to go through that again."

Marinette giggled. "Hopefully she wins this year so that she doesn't find all there is to discover before she can even leave Paris. Because she's going to, at the rate she's going."

"She really has been discovering a lot." Even if Alya had been focusing mainly on getting things organized and formatted correctly to enter the contest ever since the Christmas holidays, that hadn't meant that she hadn't found anything new. A few more historians had responded to her inquiries (apparently having the Ladyblog on her resume had been a large help in spurring them to respond), and they had each had found something of interest. The biggest discovery, according to Alya, had been what had to be an ancient Ladybug and her partner. The Chat Noir at the time had been elsewhere, and the Ladybug had been paired with what Alya said had to be another user. It sounded like it had been a Bee, just based on the color scheme.

It was the first time in months that Alya had found a new type of Miraculous holder. Adrien would not be surprised if the next few months were filled with a careful combing-through of everything she had found over the last year and a half to try to find any signs of other Bees throughout history.

"So what do you want to do after we finish this?" Adrien asked after drying a few more dishes. "A game before bed, maybe? A movie?" He flashed an impish grin at Marinette and wriggled his eyebrows, letting his voice drop into Chat Noir's suave purr. "Or purr-haps the Lady is feline more like going straight to the bedroom?"

Marinette's jaw dropped and she gave him an absolutely incredulous look. "Are you seriously trying to pick me up with cat puns?"

Adrien grinned. He could practically feel the indignation rolling off of her, and it was hilarious. "Mewby."

"I have half a mind to splash you," Marinette threatened, waving soapy fingers in his direction. "If it weren't for the fact that I don't want to get your suit wet, I would."

"And I would splash you back, but I really don't want to accidentally get that gorgeous dress stained." Adrien ducked down and pressed a kiss to Marinette's cheek. "We should have a date sometime where we just, like, don't get dressed up at all. We could wear pajamas and order takeout and play board games and splash each other all we want."

Marinette lit up. "Oh, that sounds amazing."

(Adrien absently wondered if he could get away with ordering onesies for both of them for the date. Marinette might not be happy with him if he did, but she would be so. cute. in a red-spotted or cat-themed adult onesie and it would be so worth it.)

"I know we don't really have much in the way of games over here except for video games and cards, but I bet I could borrow a couple things from my coworkers," Marinette said, clearly excited. The last bowl dangled from one hand, clearly forgotten. "I could just say that we want to have a game night, so they don't think date. And we could make popcorn, and- okay, now I'm just planning our next date when we're still in the middle of our Valentine's Day date."

Adrien laughed. "Oh, I'm glad that you like the idea." He tapped her hand, reminding her about the dish she still held. Marinette eeped and hurried to rinse it off and hand it over to Adrien. "So what do you say? Game? Movie? None of the above?"

"I'd be up to a short rom-com before finishing our date," Marinette decided after a moment. "If you want, of course."

"I suppose it would be a good idea to let our lovely meal digest a bit before we lie down," Adrien agreed. He put the last bowl away and dried his hands before holding a hand out to Marinette. "Let's go find a movie to watch, my Lady."