#{ her bio really became a novel i apologize }

[bellaxlestrange]

Full Name: Bellatrix Callidora Lestrange née Black Gender: Cis-female Pronouns: She/her Age: 31 Birthday: April 19th Sign: Aries Blood type: pureblood Hogwarts house: Slytherin Relationship Status: Married to Rodolphus Lestrange Positive Traits: loyal, strong, intelligent Negative Traits: cruel, unpredictable, stubborn

full bio under the cut

Summary of traits: 

From the moment she was born to Druella and Cygnus, Bellatrix was told she must be loyal and faithful to her family. Simply fall into line with everything her parents asked of her and her life would be easy, not that it wasn’t already as she had been fortunate enough to be born a Black. And she kept true to that value, she knew as the eldest and future heir that there was more that was expected of her compared to her sisters. She knew she would be the head of the family should anything happen to their parents, she knew that she was to be married one day and continue the line of heirs, she knew that she had to show the world that the Black family was in power for a reason. No slipping up. Which led to lessons from both her parents on how she should be acting to the world, Druella wanted her to be dressed as a proper lady of the house, someone that men would easily fall to the feet of wishing to be married to her. Something she begrudgingly went along with for as long as she could until Narcissa came along and could be the dress up doll her mother always wished for. But on the other hand, Cygnus believed that despite her gender, he needed an heir that was strong and could carry the weight of the family without a problem. So, he began to instill in her that emotions were for the weak, never let her enemies know what she was thinking because then she’d be one step ahead of them. This mentality only grew within Bellatrix, especially as she went off to Hogwarts, she never let anyone fight her battles nor would she let them defend her. She was her own woman that more than capable of handing the mess herself. From her father she also learned that intelligent was everything, it came in all shapes and sizes, and she needed to prepare herself as much as she possibly could. When at school she did her best in her classes, but not enough to be top of the class, why make herself a target when she could stick to the average level and let her enemies underestimate her worth. It has been assumed that because of the tough teachings and the tough love outlook her parents drilled into her during her childhood that Bellatrix has little to no compassion for anyone. For the most part that is true, she had only chosen a few people within her circle that she shows any true kindness towards but being at Hogwarts as well as joining up with the Death Eaters has only led for her cruelness to grow to its full potential. The Dark Lord had always welcomed her cruel streak with open arms so there was no reason for her to reign in that chaos. With cruelness like hers, Bellatrix knows she is as unpredictable as they come. She won’t shy away from saying what she wants or doing what she wants, something that her and her mother always fought about the most. Now that she’s married and a well-known Death Eater, there’s no reason to impress anyone to be her partner. With her anger growing from her escape, one can only assume she’s just a ticking time bomb waiting to explode again.

Growing up:

Born to parents who were openly prejudice against blood traitors and mudbloods alike, Bellatrix knew there was a set path for her made long before she was conceived. She was to be the heir, despite not being born a male, and she could be expected to continue the family line successfully. From the minute she could walk and talk, her mother made it her mission to teach her daughter the proper way she should act when presented to the world. Chin up, shoulders back, smirk gracing your face, and being the lady she was supposed to be. What Bellatrix took from that was don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t give your opinion on any social matters, just smile and act pretty. And it was quickly discovered that image of Bellatrix is not one she wanted to hold for the rest of her life. Something Cygnus picked up on quickly before the explosive fights began between the two women. Thankfully as her father swept her under his wing under the impression he could show her the ropes of the world, her mother had turned her attention to her younger sisters, and everything moved along smoothly. Most of her free time was spent in her father’s study listening to his thoughts and concerns about the world, listening to his stories about how great the world once was and how soon enough things would be settled again. It was these moments with her father that paved the path she would take once she started her schooling.

It was no surprise when the sorting hat had barely grazed her head before shouting Slytherin, there was no other place for a Black to be sorted. Now surrounded with individuals who were taught it all just like her as well as the individuals that they were told were lesser than them, muggleborn wizards and half-blood witches, meant all that cruelness could be released. She formed a small group of likeminded friends, immediately proving herself to be the leader, as they targeted those that they were told were not worthy of the magic they were gifted. She was a terror to everyone, strutting through the halls with a snarl across her face and her head held high. Bellatrix knew she was better than everyone and she made sure to prove it, bullying other students, talking back to professors, earning letters home based on her behavior. Letters she was sure gave Druella heart attacks and hoped made Cygnus proud. Everyone knew her name and everyone knew to step aside when she walked by the brunette was reveling in the fear she was creating. When Andromeda followed behind her, she tried and tried to make her sister follow completely in her footsteps but always knew deep down that Andromeda was not the type of person she was. Alice was another matter, one she refused to acknowledge as anything more than a fluke in the Rosier blood. How was it that her mother’s maiden family were so weak to produce a traitor when Evan had come out as such a shining star. Trying to keep hopes high when Narcissa joined them, it was obvious the youngest of the three sisters seemed to follow her eldest sister more but not the same. Yet again when it was time for Sirius to join the lot of them, to be blunt, shit hit the fan. Bellatrix was furious and outraged that she was ever related to yet another traitor and she always went out of her way to make her cousin’s life hell just as she had with Alice. In her mind, it was as though Sirius and Alice were no longer her family. Her family was those that found themselves beside her in Slytherin, her family was those who kept to each other and were there for each other, her family was loyal. And because something in their heads was different from the rest of them, Sirius and Alice were now written off as nothing more than the blood traitors they found themselves befriending. Even with Regulus now being the last to join the family at school, Bellatrix found herself forever focused on those who she now found herself estranged from. Part of her now feeling ashamed and sorry for Regulus and Evan to have to admit that they were the brother of such abominations.

During the war:

Upon graduation from Hogwarts, Bellatrix found the next step was finding a job or getting married. The former she felt she wanted nothing to do with as the state of the Ministry was quite questionable and she didn’t want to associate with the failure that was impending on that front. So that left her with the latter option, something that delighted her mother entirely. But Druella didn’t get the easy process of finding her daughter a husband that she would’ve liked, Bellatrix made sure to put up the most fighting she could. She didn’t want to be married yet, she didn’t want to be the proper pureblood wife that her mother was, there was more for her out there than being someone’s little wife. Her reputation from Hogwarts seemed to have carried far into the real world and many men that her parents presented were terrified of such an outspoken wife. Something about not being able to control someone like her is what they all said. Not that Bella had a problem with that, it gave her more time to search for that something more she had always been hoping for.Such a thing finally came to her in the form of Tom Riddle. Someone along the same social circles had mentioned a group forming to shape the wizarding world back into what it once was. Purebloods being at the top of the ladder again, running the world, and pushing those lesser to the side. Everything that Bella had once been told about and what she still wholeheartedly believed it. She had used whatever connections necessary to push her way front and center before Tom Riddle, who was beginning to use the name Lord Voldemort. He was persuasive and charming and didn’t need much to convince Bella to join his forces. Even he could see the proper the witch possessed and the eagerness she had to prove herself as a strong individual. She gave over her life to be a good soldier to him and even improved her standing by bringing him names of individuals who would join up with him as well. What started as the point of recruitment and contact for any potential Death Eaters, Bellatrix slyly moved her way up the ranks to become one of the Dark Lord’s most trusted servants. And as she fell deeper into the world of the Death Eaters, it seemed that the perfect husband had presented itself.

Rodolphus Lestrange was a part of a good family, a pure family that could do with some influence down the road, and her parents approved. Rodolphus was one of the few prospective that didn’t try to silence her or try to turn her away from the work of the Dark Lord, if anything he was eager to be beside her. A marriage that began for mostly show and a sign of unity that now has formed into a good partnership between the two. They understood one another without a question and with Rodolphus joined up right next to her, they became a couple that should not be messed with. It had seemed like so many things were going right for the witch only for things to turn south so quickly.

Andromeda was caught intertwined with a mudblood. It didn’t take any of them long to find the poor wizard and Bellatrix held back no hesitant to raise her wand in his direction, the most powerful of torture curses she could muster falling from her lips. Everything had disappeared around her, her only focus on keeping the strength of her curse going. The anger she felt for having another traitor to the family, anger for a stupid mudblood being able to trap her sister into such a betrayal, anger that she couldn’t see any of this coming. It was like all those lessons and teachings about how family was the most important thing were falling through in her mind right now. If family was so important then Sirius wouldn’t have been sorted into Gryffindor. If family was so important then Andromeda wouldn’t have strayed from what was expected of her. If family was so important then they would’ve all been together like they were when they were young.

Andromeda’s threat was the only thing that stopped her, a small part of her still wishing for her sister to realize that this life with a mudblood was not for her. But with her sister holding strong for the wizard at the end of her wand, Bellatrix knew she had to play this smart and come out on top. She gave her sister an ultimatum with such narrowed eyes, doing what was asked of her and she would keep her distance. If this family appeared as normal as possible, she’d keep up her end of the deal and with Ted’s life on the life she knew her sister would follow. Although as time went on the elder woman believed at some point Andromeda would turn and she would finally get to have her fun with Edward Tonks.

Andromeda’s betrayal, despite her now following what was asked of her, changed everything within Bella. Her family were turning their backs on her left and right, she had begun to question them all. What was stopping her younger cousin from changing sides or Narcissa from following behind their sister and finding another life outside of the Death Eaters? It took some time but when the smoke had cleared and things had settled, Bella knew that, besides Rodolphus, she couldn’t be loyal to her family anymore. Not when things were changing and improving so quickly with the Dark Lord. If she wanted to be his best soldier, then she needed to give all her loyalty over to him. The Dark Lord wouldn’t betray her, he had his plans to achieve, and they very much aligned with what she wanted. So, without hesitation she offered up a well-kept family secret to him, it was for the greater good that the Dark Lord knew of Narcissa’s power. For all they knew that could be the key to winning this war, so she told him all about her sister and how young the woman was when she had been when she first began to experience such power, the approving smirk that greeted her settled any nerves she had about selling her sister out. At the end of the day, she was here to serve the Dark Lord, everyone else was a second thought to her now.

The present:

The Dark Lord falling to Albus Dumbledore was the worst thing Bellatrix had ever had to witness. Watching her Lord fall to such an incompetent wizard had driven the rage within her to all but explode. She needed to find an outlet for her anger, she originally wanted to attack Dumbledore himself for releasing the final blow but her husband was quicker about pulling her away. Whispering to her that there were other ways they could go about their anger, other people they could use to pass along their message and come out on top with their duels. Her mind raced and raced to think of a perfect target, the perfect example to send back to Dumbledore that not everyone was going to come quietly with his reign, and she finally found it in her cousin Alice Longbottom and her husband.

The only regret that Bellatrix has from that fateful night of torturing Alice and Frank was that she slipped up. She wasn’t the most powerful in the room, if she had been she would’ve been quick to silence the child or quick enough to grab Rodolphus and escape. But her emotions had clouded over everything. Her anger and fear and anxiety about losing the Dark Lord had resulted in their capture and arrest. So, when the time came for her questioning, she threw everyone she could under the bus. In her mind that was the perfect plan for her to push the blame away from herself. Rodolphus, Rabastan, Barty, Regulus, and Alecto, all the names were thrown from her mouth as quickly as she could.

Sure, she knew at the end of the day it wasn’t going to stop her from going off to Azkaban, hell the Longbottoms had seen her and Rodolphus’ faces. There was no escaping that fact. But she could take down as many of her peers as she could. So, when she was walked down the halls of the prison seeing all the faces she knew would’ve joined her, the simmering anger grew as she failed to catch the sight of her cousin. She could see her husband and his brother and Alecto and Barty, but where the hell was Regulus?  Was this just another point of her family betraying her yet again or did Regulus have something else up his sleeve? The questions ran wild as the days passed and still no sight of her dark-haired cousin. It confused her entirely how he had found a way to wiggle himself out of trouble but failed to get her out as well.

When the timing was just right and things aligned so perfectly, Bellatrix was ready to get out of the prison. Joining up with her husband and brother-in-law first, none of them knowing where the safest spot for them to hide out would be nor did they know what had been going on in the Wizarding world since the arrest. With Sirius, Andromeda, and Alice being the traitors they were, there was no desire to seek them out now while she was on the run. Of course, she could’ve disappeared off with Evan but who knows if he had been questioned on any activity either, so Bella turned to the one place she knew had yet to betray her in any way so she headed to Malfoy Manor. Fully expecting to seek shelter with Narcissa and Lucius with open arms.

[writtenbyhappynerds]

Unit 3: Face Claims, Please Stop Using Emily Rudd

     Ok. So now lets look at face claims. Face claims are a broader topic to character creation and OCs as a whole. I like face claims. They’re great, because they allow you the writer to get in your head what the main character looks like and how they fit in with the cast and the world. I have nothing against face claims, I use them myself because I like to visualize what I’m working with. However, as we’ve seen in Unit 2, it’s on the writer to convey what the character looks like. As we’ve seen in Unit 1, the character should be cohesive with the rules of the universe. Face claims and characterization can apply the first two units very easily. 

     Reference images are for your eyes only, so that you can see what the character looks like. When describing a character, pull details from your reference image to explain what they look like. You do not have to be overly specific. Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way is a prime example of being overly specific, given the first paragraph of her fanfiction My Immortal is: 

     “Hi my name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eyeshadow.”

     Never do this. I will find you and we will have a very nice conversation about how to improve your writing. Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way breaks the three big rules of characterization and character description: She drops the face claim directly in the narrative (Amy Lee, lead singer of Evanescence), she describes every characterizing feature about her (vampire teeth, ebony black hair), and she describes her complete outfit. To give a better standard of describing characters, we are going to fix Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way. 

     Young Adult novels very often stick to height, hair color, eye color, and body shape. This is something you as an author should think about, but sticking just to this blueprint can be pretty generic. When you look at other people, those aren’t the only things you notice, right? Those aren’t even things you necessarily need! A big example of going against the grain of the standard is found in The Great Gatsby. Despite having loads of color imagery, we never learn what Daisy’s hair color or eye color is. But somehow, we don’t need them because we are supplemented with, “Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it. Bright eyes and a bright, passionate mouth.” Fitzgerald focuses on how his characters carry themselves and their facial expressions. These give descriptions of their personalities. When he does describe hair color or eye color, he does it in a way that fits with the style and vibe of his writing, and you as a writer can do the same. 

     In my own personal opinion, eye color does not need to be described immediately. You can save small descriptions of your characters and sprinkle them in throughout the story, rather than dumping an appearance in one paragraph. In one instance you can describe what a character’s wearing, and in another later on, describe their hair as they pull it away from their face. Describe it as it changes from the normal. Jeremy Scott’s The Ables is a great example of character description and characterization. The main character is blind, which means that the cast gets by on contrasting personalities. We don’t know the ethnicity of many of the characters until we’re halfway through the book, and the main character only learns his basic appearance because it’s been described to him by his parents. Things like eye color and hair color and how tall someone is don’t matter as a whole. What matters is how it can be applied and further the story and the personality of the character. A character having curly brown hair? Don’t necessarily need that. A character who takes the time to curl her brown hair every morning? That tells me something about that character. Small moments, and giving descriptors through details can really help you avoid the paragraph dump. 

     Character Bios are the bane of my existence. Do not put character bios in the beginning of your fanfiction. All you’re doing is giving me a paragraph I’m not going to read. Character bios are lazy writing. It’s low-hanging fruit to mention them as something to not do. There are so many ways to incorporate detail into a story. By putting in a character bio, you tell the reader that you either: don’t know how to incorporate these facts, are too lazy to incorporate these facts, or don’t care enough about what you’re writing to incorporate this information that we must know immediately about your character. In addition, we don’t need to know your character’s favorite color and the music they like on page one, so why do that to yourself? Not caring about your work can ruin a fanfiction. If you don’t care about what you’re putting out there, how can you expect your audience to care enough to read it. 

     Another important aspect of characterization is show-don’t-tell. Which we’ve all heard, but I’ve rarely seen it used. When used effectively you can draw the reader in, and allow them to use context clues to draw their own conclusions. A good rule of thumb, and the Show Don’t Tell 101 is that you show emotions, and tell feelings. You don’t need to tell me how the floor swayed under someone’s feet and they felt as if they were underwater. You can just say they felt tired that morning. However you can show emotion, and show the full range of anger and pain when someone’s upset to convey properly how that character is feeling. This is something that requires a light touch. It ties in with context clues and foreshadowing. I shouldn’t know from the third line of dialogue of a Shane Dawson fanfiction that the OC has an eating disorder. I shouldn’t know when exactly two characters are going to end up together, or when two characters are going to split apart. It should come as a surprise. An example I can give is a story I have of two spies who fall in love. From the first chapter, it’s obvious to the reader how this world is a game to them, and how they click and exist on that same wavelength. Chemistry can be obvious. Banter can be a fun way to express chemistry. What wasn’t obvious in this story, was that one of the spies would be killed by his own organization. What wasn’t obvious was how this would shape the other spy, who became the main villain of later works. If you make the narrative obvious I want you to then surprise the reader. Because you yourself will get bored. That’s why you see a lot of fanfics get dropped after three chapters- the writer has it all planned out how something will happen, and this plan becomes boring, but they don’t try to change the plot to make it more exciting. Throw in a wrench. Shoot someone. Spice it up my dudes. 

     We titled this chapter Please Stop Using Emily Rudd because one, we see Emily Rudd, as well as other girls who will be in an imgur album at the end of this chapter, way too often as the main OCs in fanfiction, and two, they represent a saturation and an insecurity in the market of main characters. We as writers don’t need to rely on these girls, and we actually keyhole and limit ourselves when we stick to stereotypical goth/emo girls (ex: Eugenia Cooney, Aly Antorcha, and Taylor Momsen face claims), or pale girl with dark hair and green eyes (Emily Rudd) same thing different descriptor for Nina Dobrev, or that red haired girl with green eyes who I couldn’t find a name for but she’s in almost every Harry Potter and/or Weasley sibling fanfic so you know who I’m talking about. 

     These girls should not be the standard of OCs. On top of that, not every OC has to be “strikingly beautiful” some of these OCs are like, 11-12 at the start of the fanfic. It’s ok to not describe how pretty they are. On top of that, not all of the world looks “strikingly beautiful” and that shouldn’t be a character descriptor. When one fanfiction I read had the love interest describe the OC as, “nothing to look at,” they contrasted everything else I’d read before because they made the beauty in that character not about what she looked like but her actions and who she was as a person. She became more beautiful as the fanfiction went on because of her personality, and by the end of it, it made sense that the love interest fell in love with her because he loved her as a person, not as an object. That’s what it boils down to. These girls don’t have to be pretty thin models and celebrities to be good face claims. Spending less time on the appearance, and more time on the personality makes for a character more beautiful and more believable than if you used some model. Don’t feed the manic pixie dream girl trend. 

     Moving on. Your character should not fill a hole or replace a member of the cast. They should bring a new perspective and add, not take conflict from the original work. For example, if you are writing Harry Potter fanfic, the character should not be composed of all the attitude Harry and Ron didn’t get in the movies. If you write Sherlock fanfiction, the character should not be the voice of reason to apologize for Sherlock’s antics while still doing the same things as him. In my own Psycho-Pass fanfiction, my character should not be a manifestation of Shogo Makishima’s soul. All these things do are fill holes in the story without adding to the narrative. If they were removed the story wouldn’t know they’re gone. If you can add conflict or alternative plots to the narrative, making the characters and the cast go through something they didn’t go through otherwise, you make the OC matter more. There used to be a beautiful Harry Potter fanfic that got deleted, where the OC went on full fledged adventures without the cast. She did her own thing, hanging out in the Harry Potter universe. This fanfic worked because the OC was the star of her own narrative. She wasn’t hanging on to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco. They did their thing, and she did hers. It made for a great fanfic that I’m very sad to have seen the end of. Try and give your character something to do that doesn’t involve the cast. Think of it like fanfiction’s version of the Bechdel Test: Can your OC go through a chapter of fanfiction without relying on the cast. 

     Let’s revisit our darling, dearest, dead, Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Ravenway. Using what we’ve discussed in the previous paragraphs, I am going to attempt to fix the introduction given by our dear Enoby in Chapter One of My Immortal. Pray for me. 

     By Year 7 at Hogwarts, I had given up on the uniform. I’ve been at this school for too long to keep wearing the same damn thing, and as soon as I’m done I can bow out of button-ups and itchy sweaters. Professor McGonagall had a fit when I walked in last year with purple and red streaks in my hair. I smile as I imagine her face when she sees my miniskirt and corset. I sloughed in front of my mirror, carefully winging out my eyeliner and dabbling my lids with red eyeshadow. I popped on a black lip, blew myself a kiss, and felt stupid for doing so. 

     McGonagall didn’t even let me make the Great Hall. She marched me back, and forced me to change into the school uniform. I added pink fishnets and combat boots, and rolled my skirt up before heading back down to the Great Hall. My classmates gave me a wide berth. As I walked past a cluster of Slytherins I could hear them whisper. 

     “Fangy bitch.”

     “Say that again?” I said setting my sights on them. “Do you really want to insult me now? I haven’t even had breakfast yet, though I could make an exception.” They scurried off. I flipped them the bird as they went, and carried on downstairs. Remus Lupin was the best thing to ever happen to this school. Yeah, he was a werewolf, but I felt a little less alone. At least there was more than one monster running around here. 

     Next week we will be discussing names. Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way will make a return, as well as some other names that are uncomfortable and cringy to read. This is your warning now, that in 2 weeks we will have our first exam for Fanfiction 101. I did say in the introduction that there would be an exam, and it’s on its way. We will give you more information next week when we see you to discuss Nameberry.com. 

     Supplemental Instruction: The aforementioned imgur album of overused face claims and OCs. Think of this like a newly minted banned book list. 

https://imgur.com/gallery/SpIGZhF

[jackiforjustice]

hiya everyone! I’m dev ( use any pronouns, mine are up in the air rn ), and this is my social justice baby jacki! please hmu for plotting - I’d love to really develop something with each of you! bio below!

trigger warnings for racism, sexism, and police brutality.

✘ CHARACTER BASICS

Skeleton Title: The Cavalier Faceclaim: Laura Harrier Jacqueline “Jacki” Reynolds | Twenty-Two | Cis-Female | She/Her | May 18th

✘ CHARACTER BACKGROUND

The Gist: 

Jacqueline is the oldest daughter of Susan and Barry Reynolds. Born in 1969, just two years after the Supreme Court Case Loving v. Virginia legalized interracial marriage across the United States, Jacqueline was one of the first interracial children in her small Idaho hometown. 

A couple years and two younger brothers later, the Reynolds family decided to move to Graingerville to be closer to a big city. It was clear from a very young age that Jacqueline was smarter than her years - she exceeded in school from day one, and always preferred reading to the rowdy games at recess. 

Although she was incredibly intelligent for her age, Jacki always had trouble fitting in. The other black kids thought she wasn’t black enough because of her white mother; the white kids took one look at her rich dark skin and knew she wasn’t one of them. While she managed to find her own group of friends who didn’t care much either way in terms of her race, the underlying discrimination and confusion based on being from a mixed family stuck with her for a long time.

When Jacki entered middle school, her father started telling her stories of his own adolescence - while Jacki worried about math quizzes and essays, Barry was fighting for his rights every single day. He became a lawyer because of it, and after hearing about the Civil Rights Movement directly from him and her other relatives, Jacki decided she wanted to be a lawyer too.

As Jacki got older, her peers began partying more often, rebelling against their parents to make a statement, to be reckless and bold with no apologies. Jacki tried that phase for a minute (but quickly ended when she realized she cared more about what her parents thought of her than her friends from school). Instead of completely locking herself away from the other teenagers in Graingerville, she chose a more proactive route: everyone at her high school knew if they needed a designated driver, Jacki would be there to lend a helping hand. 

By the end of her sophomore year in high school, Jacki had a perfectly laid-out plan of how to get into either Harvard, Yale, or Stanford majoring in Political Science. Her parents were undoubtedly impressed, and worked to help her achieve her big dreams of getting into top notch schools. 

Needless to say, her plan worked. After graduating as valedictorian from her high school, Jacki was off to Yale majoring in Political Science with a minor in American History. Yale pushed Jacki to her absolute limits in the best way - she worked harder than ever, made lifelong friends, and even had her first boyfriend (his name was Liam, and they dated for one semester before she dumped him during finals week because he was distracting her). 

Although Jacki entered college with the hopes of becoming a lawyer, the more she learned about the Civil Rights Movement and the treatment of black people in American history, the more she wanted to immediately help those in need. She had been eyeing the possibility of Law School for a while, but it wasn’t until she moved back home to Graingerville post-college graduation that she changed her career path slightly.

The Big Freakout Event of 1990 threw her family for a loop. Her younger brothers were just about to start their sophomore and senior years of high school, her mother had just been promoted at the hospital, and her father had just won a huge case against the unjust arrest of two young black men. But when people with psionic powers and lizard deers terrorize the streets out of the blue, the world sort of pauses for a while. 

When the dust had settled from the craziness of the BFE, Jacki found herself wanting to help more directly. Being a lawyer helps those accused of a crime - she wanted to help protect the people of Portland from...whatever the crazy shit out there was. She was still torn between being a lawyer or moving to a different career choice when another event influenced her decision.

In March of 1991, Rodney King was horrendously beaten by police officers in Los Angeles. It was unjust, it was unfair, and it was entirely based on race. The trial for the police officers in question was scheduled for the following year, as these sorts of things take time, but it was that one event (and reading about other racist events prior to the Rodney King beating), that led Jacki to join the Portland Police Department.

She was the top of her class at the Police Academy (she’s always had a penchant for rules and regulations), and with marks like that, she was absolutely sure she’d start making tidal waves once she was officially on the force.

Unfortunately, they had her saving cats from trees, dealing with parking tickets, and lost elderly people roaming the streets. 

The Emerging Threats Unit looks better and better by the day. Jacki’s dreamed of helping people since she was little - why won’t the higher ups let her just do it? She’s starting to get sick of pushing papers around while she could be making the world a better place. Luckily, that Yale degree is coming in handy - she’s doing her best to study up on the supernatural stuff going on around town, and she’s determined to be the expert on all things crazy in this place if it kills her.

Jacqueline Reynolds has no supernatural powers unless you count her unnerving organization skills or her endless knowledge on the historical racism in America thus far (both of which cause her major exhaustion and/or frustration, which I would deem a consequence for her power).

✘ “STAY WEIRD PORTLAND”

One wall of her apartment bedroom looks like a conspiracy theory wall. She’s incredibly organized, yes, but her obsession with being the expert on all things supernatural in Portland has caused her to look a little bit like a nutcase. However, the conspiracy theory wall is prettier than other conspiracy theory walls in TV shows and movies because hers comes with color coordinated strings, index cards, and pens. Sometimes when she’s feeling frisky, she even manages to color coordinate the thumbtacks. 

While Jacki is a picture perfect student, she has no clue what it means to be good at maintaining a romantic relationship. Absolutely no idea what she’s doing. Flirting often goes right over her head. She can give you historical dates and supernatural factoids up the wazoo, but hit her with a one-liner and she just sort of stares...and then walks away.

✘ ASPECTS & SKILLS

Straight A Student: Jacki never earned less than an A- in her entire academic career (a fact that her parents remind her younger brothers of every single day). She excels in history and English, and performs well in math and sciences. Although art has never really been her thing, her ability to give it a try has always earned her at least an A- in class.

Strong, Smart, Underestimated Woman: It’s 1991. She’s a Yale graduate, incredibly intelligent, resilient as hell, and determined to serve justice and protect those around her. She is fierce by any definition of the word, but that doesn’t mean everyone sings her praises. Some men find her strength frightening. Some others find her intelligence to be overbearing, or too “know-it-all” for their liking. She’s underestimated, and often given the dirty work rather than the work she joined the police force for, and she knows it.

I Have to Do What’s Right: Even though Jacki loves rules, regulations, and the like, sometimes the rules are wrong. That’s why she started training with The Fighter. That’s why she’s studying up on supernatural occurrences. And that’s why she’s more than willing to protect people who aren’t in the wrong. I mean come on, it’s not anybody’s fault that some of these people have powers - just because people fear them for being different doesn’t excuse any harm that comes their way, and Jacki has made it her mission to protect people with powers as long as they don’t maliciously hurt others.

Great: Will Good: Notice, Academics Fair:    Investigate, Shoot, Lore Aver:   Athletics, Stealth, Drive, Fight

✘ AESTHETIC

A brand new pack of index cards. Happy family photos on the wall. Clean laundry. The same haircut every time. Highlighted textbooks. Annotated novels. Reading the newspaper thoroughly. Fresh scented candles. Conspiracy theory strings. Too much coffee. Waking up to sunlight peeking through the window. Horrible headaches. Extra poster boards for future rallies and marches. Sleeping alone. Speaking quickly for efficiency’s sake. Gin and tonics. Being overwhelmed by large social situations. Studying without being assigned to. Forgetting to sleep. Forgetting to eat. Forgetting to take a moment to just breathe. Justice. Family dinners on Thursdays. Bending the law for things that are right. Ironed clothes. A color-coded planner. Wearing a retainer every night to bed like you’re supposed to. Bob Dylan CDs. Perfectly polished badges. Quiet breakfasts. Practical clothes.

✘ SEASON 2, EPISODE 1

If anyone else were to see what Jacki’s apartment looked like, they’d think it was just as clean as ever. But by her standards? Her room was a mess. Textbooks on the history of time and space stacked high on her desk; questionably sourced papers on the existence of supernatural creatures in our universe highlighted, annotated, and in their own folders; four mugs of coffee, all of them empty and lined up on top of her dresser. She would get to the bottom of this case. If her boss didn’t want her on anything more important than parking tickets, she’d work the Emergency Threat Unit cases on her own time. Sure, Jacki was losing sleep by the minute, but it would be worth it when crisis inevitably hit Portland again and she was the best resource they had. Plus, now she had a friend to help her improve her combat skills! She’d be prepared for anything, with a twelve-step solution to the next Big Freakout Event to hit her town. Just like her dad always told her: “If you can’t be the boss, be better than them.”

Please feel free to message me for any plots! I have a wimpy ass plotting page here, so feel free to look at that for inspiration!

[lady-therion]

Close Quarters: Part 3 [Nessian]

Summary:  Two people, one cabin, plus a whole lot of love-hate tension.

Modern AU. 

A/N: In close quarters, every moment is a universe. 

***

   If Cassian thought he was fucked before, that was nothing compared to now.

   Now he was fucked with a capital “F.” The kind that was written with blood-red sharpie and underlined three times in that alarming “See me after class!” kind of way. Because in addition to discovering that Nesta actually felt things—possibly more so than anyone he had ever met—he also discovered something else.

    One, she liked romance novels.

   Two, she wore glasses.

   Glasses.

   There were only so many revelations a man could take in a single day.

   “You’re staring again,” she said, from her spot on the sofa.

   “Hn?”

   It was the most intelligent thing he could say once she turned that withering gaze on him, her eyes like blue agates intensified by the spell of those square black frames. An embarrassingly hot burn ran down the back of his neck as he sat across from her, trying to string together words.

   She gestured at the corner of her mouth. “You have a little…”

   He mirrored her, fingers grazing his lips. “What…?”

   “Drool,” she deadpanned.

   His cheeks flamed, close to scalding. The instinct to bat her wry accusation away with some crude remark was tantalizing. That had been the electric thrill of their dynamic, after all. But he sensed that if he fell back into old habits, Nesta would too.

   Because whether she realized it or not, she had been looking to him all night for cues.

   Math and music make no personal demands, she had said, after revealing that she didn’t find him as repulsive as he initially thought. It was a truth that added to the complex algorithm that made up Nesta Archeron. Just when he thought he was closer to solving her, the more compounded she became.

   At the military academy, he learned the concept of equivalency: the strategy of giving up an advantage in order to gain something of equal value.

   Against all his expectations, Nesta had given him a truth. Probably at great personal cost. So it was only fair for him to start doing the same.

   “Again,” she said. “The drooling. Should I get you a cup?”

   He grinned. “Sorry, can’t help it. I’m just really digging your glasses.”  

   “Liar,” she said. “Nobody likes glasses.”

   He spread his arms across the back of the couch, keeping a respectable distance. They were actually having a conversation! A civil one!

   “First: Friendship 101,” he reminded her. “Friends don’t lie. And second: People do like glasses. None of that bullshit like in the movies where the guy takes off a girl’s specs and suddenly everyone realizes just how gorgeous she is. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a prick.”

   She said nothing for a moment, that preternatural stare working overtime as he watched her process and dissect his words a million different ways.

   “My ex didn’t like my glasses,” she said, finally. “He said they made me look owlish. But I can’t help it. I get it migraines.”

   His blood simmered as an irrational urge to punch something coursed through him. He congratulated himself on keeping his voice flat as he said, “You don’t look owlish. I hoped you dumped his ass.”

   She smirked. “He dumped me, actually.”

   He incredulity knew no depths. “What? Why?”

   She shrugged, her expression shuttering. “I would think...the reason is obvious.”

   The pang in his chest felt as sharp as an arrowhead.

  No, he wanted to say, it wasn’t obvious.

  “Nesta—”

   “It’s nothing,” she said, brusque and dismissive. “Let’s talk about something else.”

   Cassian didn’t want to drop it, but he filed it away as another thorny variable of the Nesta Archeron algorithm. He always had this image of men—or women, for that matter—throwing themselves at her feet. Sure, she could be intimidating as hell. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t worthy of someone’s affection.

   Or acceptance.

   More than anything, he wished could just say this to her. But equivalency demanded that Cassian take no more than he was given and he made too much progress to upset that balance now. So he cast around for something else to talk about when he finally settled on the books she had spilled across his coffee table.

   She had done it by accident, having upended her bag in a semi-frustrated search for those (not at all mesmerizing) glasses. Now its surface was hidden beneath heavy tomes on quantum physics, differential equations, and mass market paperbacks featuring shirtless men on the cover. He leaned down to pick through them; historical bodice rippers with names like The Earl with the Dragon Tattoo and One for the Rogue.

   “Seriously?”

   Nesta snatched them from out of his hand. “Seriously.”

   He cleared his throat. “So, your taste in reading...”

   “Tease me all you like,” she said, her tone and posture frosting over. “I won’t apologize for enjoying stories where the woman has all the power for once. I won’t apologize for enjoying relationships that survived the odds, however ridiculous or exaggerated. And I won’t apologize for liking sex.”

    He held up his hands in placation. “You definitely don’t have to apologize for that last one.” Then immediately winced at how flippant that sounded. “Wait. That came out wrong. Let me...”  

   “How do you do that?” asked Nesta. “How do you always throw me off-kilter?”

   “I throw you off-kilter?”

   “Yes,” she said, grimacing. “I’ve told you more things in the past few hours that even my own sisters don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense. The answers elude me and it’s just so frustrating.”  

   There were several things Cassian could have said. All of them were wholly inadequate. So he stewed in the ensuing silence, that weird fog of tension, until Nesta rose and asked him where the bathroom was.

   “Upstairs to the right,” he said, and watched as she left him without a backwards glance.

***

   Nesta wished she had another set of clothes.

   At the moment, all she had was a blue wool sweater that was so shapeless, it slid off her shoulder like a burlap sack. Her black jeans had faded to a dull gray, making the rips and stains more apparent. In short, she looked like an underfed undergraduate. In reality, she was an underpaid doctoral candidate. Any money she received from her stipend went to her two worst vices: her caffeine habit and her shoe collection.

   Normally, she wouldn’t care how she looked. But Cassian…

   It wasn’t that she wanted to look attractive for him. That was preposterous. She just didn’t want to look like a bespectacled stray that stumbled upon his doorstep either (even if that was exactly what she was). Pride was a hard thing for her to aside. The fact that Cassian could shred through it like paper—and that she allowed him to—was terrifying beyond measure.

   And yet she couldn’t forget the way his breath had branded her skin…

   They hadn’t talked about that. How he whispered into her ear about how surprising he found her. He hadn’t said it in a snide way either, as if she were something to be owned and objectified. It was a far cry from how Tomas treated her, the memories of which she had firmly shut in a coffin until a single interaction with Cassian had coaxed it out. 

   No, really. How did he do that?

   Sighing, she took a moment to glance at her surroundings. Cassian had lent her the guest bedroom on the second floor, which also came with its own bathroom. Like the rest of the cabin, the space it was rustic and charming. It irked her. Everything from the cherry wood panels to the marble white countertops to the built-in skylights made her feel...out of place.

   Towels, she thought.

   Answers wouldn’t come to her if she was overwrought and overtired. Self-care and a hot shower would have to the best interim solution.

   But in order to do that, she needed towels.

   A cursory look downstairs told her that Cassian was no longer on the first floor. Most likely, he had gone to bed. Which was just as well. She didn’t know if she could face him when she was feeling so...exposed. Still, she couldn’t ignore the slight tinge of disappointment. Had she really grown so used to him being there, baiting her or otherwise?

   In any case, her shower would have to wait.

   And of course, Cassian appeared out of nowhere just as she shut him out of her thoughts.

   And of course, he happened to be fresh from his own hot shower; rivulets of water running down the ridges, divots, and cuts of those hard-earned muscles. Muscles that stood stark even under the whorls of tattoos that seemed like an elegant extension of his dark, tanned skin.

   And of course, she also happened to forget her own powers of speech as she surveyed the towering mass of his barely clothed presence, trying in vain to keep her photographic memory from engraving him in her mind.

   “Oh,” she said.

   Cassian blinked, finally noticing her there at the end of the hall.

   “Oh.”

 ***

Thank you for reading, my loves.

Other chapters be found in the Masterlist in my Bio / I am Lady_Therion on AO3

[artificialqueens]

You Bring Out the Best in Me (Bengela) - vulnerose

Rambly A.N. - Hi guys! So this is meant to combine two requests I got, one being with Dela having a panic attack and the other with either Shangela/Dela being flirty and the other not noticing until said person finally makes a move. I love reading longer fanfics so I thought rather than giving two short ones, I’d just combine them into one. (And of course, why not both having a crush on each other?) Apologies if any characters here are OOC, I try my best but I haven’t written fanfiction in a long time until recently so my skills are rusty. I’m always up for prompts so if you ever want one just comment on either my posts on the artificalqueens tumblr or AO3, my user is vulnerose there as well. Andddd of course this has nothing to do with any of the people mentioned! Enjoy my loves :)

ALSO if you’d want to see a potential sequel to this just let me know. I’m honestly considering doing it, I loved writing this fic so much.

The pressure was getting too much for Dela to handle.

It was her junior year of high school, where the competition to look as good as possible academically-wise had truly kicked off. Teachers were so much tougher than they had been in the earlier years, and she found herself crying in her bedroom after school. Every. Single. Day.

It wasn’t like Dela wasn’t a good student - she was. She was a straight A all honors student, and had been since middle school. She’d decided to challenge herself to taking four AP classes, thinking she could handle the stress since she’d enjoyed taking AP Euro the previous year. But dear god was she wrong. Bio projects were daily, her APUSH teacher was super demanding and offered no test corrections, statistics was fucking her over mentally, and she could barely write a rhythm in music theory. It was draining her mentally and physically - she had to work her ass off to maintain all As. Even then, her parents still found a way to demand more out of her.

She couldn’t count the number of times she just wanted to sleep, but couldn’t because of a report she needed to write. Dela was notorious for having coffee with her every morning. She didn’t do it purposely or for show, she couldn’t survive a day without a large cup of coffee, since she rarely got more than 5 hours of sleep. In the mornings she’d put layer after layer of concealer under her eyes to cover up the ever growing bags down there, and red-reducing eye drops became her best friend. She surprisingly rarely broke out, maybe a bit of acne here and there but her skin was rather clear.

Despite all the stress eating away at her mentally, she still managed to be the sweet, always delightful girl everyone had come to know her as. She never snapped at anyone, even when they were yelling in her ear and she’d barely had any caffeine. Her image was very important to her, and she stopped at nothing to maintain it.

It was midterm time, the most stressful time of year by far, second of course to finals. Dela had anticipated this week for a bit now, studying hard for long hours and attempting to prepare herself mentally. Each midterm intercepted at least one other, and it wasn’t too long before Dela was aware that she’d be taking all of her midterms on one day. One fucking day. She nearly broke down in tears when she realized this.

The day before midterms started, Dela decided she couldn’t care less and allowed herself to destress completely, as she knew she’d only worsen the upcoming anxiety attacks if she worried over a stupid worksheet right now. The anxiety set in right after school, when she immediately began reading page after page in her history book, doing practice problems, rereading her English novel, practicing her flute, and working on her big bio lab that acted as a midterm that was due tomorrow.

She fell asleep at 4 after being confident she would be alright. She had to wake up at 7.

She walked into the exam room the following day, bags unconcealed, eyes red and puffy, contacts bothering her, and head pounding from a migraine. The second she was handed that paper, anxiety took off and in the most minute moment, her throat felt like it was being suffocated, tears trying to well in her eyes, head more focused on people tapping their stupid fucking feet on the ground. Her fingers and thighs were shaking, completely enslaved to the major panic attack she was experiencing. Her brain was focusing on anything but the paper in front of her. ‘You pulled your ponytail just a TAD too harsh. Now it’ll be the only thing you think about.’

She miraculously survived, and asked immediately afterwards to go to the bathroom. The panic attack was subsiding but fear began to grow again. What if she failed all of them? Would her mom disown her? What if they thought I was cheating because I was looking around the room so often? I couldn’t help myself, right? It was the anxiety, not me right?

Dela locked herself in a stall and just sat there recollecting her thoughts and allowing the panic to subside. God, how she wished someone was here to make her feel better right now. Jinkx had ended up missing midterms incredibly narrowly, as her family’s yearly trip to Seattle had been scheduled to start the day before. Jinkx always had shitty cellular up there so there was no way she’d be talking to her until after the Christmas break ended. Aja was still taking her midterms and so was Trixie, and Alaska was probably too busy with Roxxxy and Detox to watch her cry about her everything.

She pushed at the chipping nail polish on her thumb, sighing heavily as she thought. Nobody really cared for her, did they? Dela always felt that she had a sufficient friend group, people that had her best interests in mind no matter what, but the realization dawned on her that no, no she didn’t. She couldn’t think of one person that would be able to comfort her right now. That person was always Jinkx, but now she had to find a way to deal with her emotional breakdowns on her own until her best friend returned. And she didn’t know how to take that.

That is, of course, until her brain and the voices inside began to taunt her and laugh, saying she was dumb, unlovable, forgettable; the list went on and on and on. Tears began to run down Dela’s cheek as she couldn’t stop the voices from continuing to spew hateful words at her, telling her how she’s a disappointment of a daughter and how all of her friends really just felt sorry for her. That she bombed all of her midterms and she’d be rejected by everyone.

Logically Dela knew it wasn’t true - nobody would hate her for failing a test, but she couldn’t help but believe the other two. Since when had her parents been truly proud of her? And since when did the majority of the girls she called friends ever text or call her? Even hang out with her? She couldn’t think of a time, date, or place.

Dela was fully broken down and worn out, crying from stress and panic and relief and sadness all at once. She’d never truly felt so useless and vulnerable until this day in time. Dela was grateful she hadn’t worn makeup, at least there’d be no tear stains on her skin.

Her crying session was abruptly ended by a voice.

“What’s going on in there mama? Don’t know who’s in there or what’s going on but it’s something. I’m not leaving until I help you darling.”

Dela’s eyes widened as she instantly recognized the voice. Shangela Waldey. Head cheerleader, but in the few times she’s spoken with her, seemed nice. They shared a couple of classes too. Her ugly crying stopped and was replaced by quiet sniffling.

“Honey? C'mon, tell me what’s up. Or come out and I can give you a hug or something.”

A hug did sound pretty nice right now.

Dela came out of the cubicle with her face red, eyes even bluer than usual from crying, and Shangela’s heart broke at the sight. She didn’t know Dela well, but it hurt to see the usually sweet and happy girl stripped down and miserable.

“Oh sweetie…” Shangela’s arms reached out and wrapped around Dela’s body, and Dela felt a sense of comfort and relief. She continued to cry but it definitely wasn’t as audible as it’d been before. Dela tried to avoid crying all over Shangela’s cheerleader uniform but Shangela wasn’t having it and whispered for her to not worry. Shangela rubbed her back to try and relieve the poor girl, wondering who made a girl so precious and gentle cry like this.

“What’s wrong honey? You’re always so happy. Did someone hurt you?” Dela blinked at her, shaking her head slowly, both still keeping the hug.

“Wasn’t anyone. I’m so stressed out Shangela, I just finished taking all my exams today. My brain has been so fried this entire year and I’m really scared that I’m gonna do shit on them.” Dela began to bawl again as she told the girl what was bothering her. Shangela’s hand began to play with Dela’s hair as she continued to listen to the girl talk. “My closest friend is away and I can’t talk to her right now and I feel like nobody cares about me. I can’t think of one person that I could talk to right now, none of them like me. I just feel like a tremendous failure.” Shangela broke the hug, holding one of Dela’s hands in hers, other lightly pointing up Dela’s chin so she could look her straight in the eye.

“Don’t know you that well honey, it’s the truth. But from what I do know, you’re anything but what your brain tells you that you are. I’m sorry you feel that way sweetheart, because it’s not true at all. You’re not a failure, and if you really feel like you don’t have anyone that you can talk to, I’m here.” Dela’s eyes widened slightly - she wasn’t expecting that kind of a response. From the moment Shangela broke the hug she thought she would taunt her and get her popular friends to begin bullying her.

“Got a lot on your mind, don’t you?” Shangela was smiling with both her eyes and mouth, watching Dela stare into space. Dela snapped out of it almost immediately.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to say that.” Dela stopped momentarily to wipe the tears from her eyes before continuing. “Why do you care about me? Like you have so many friends and you’re so popular, why me?”

Shangela couldn’t help but laugh. “Girl you think I give a shit about 99% of the people I hang out with? You can’t trust them with any secrets you got, all they wanna do is get drunk on weekends, they’re barely passing their classes right now, fucking ridiculous. Partying and failing isn’t my schtick, only reason why they keep me around is because without me, there’s no cheerleading team.” Shangela so badly wanted to form a true friendship with someone, and had always found Dela to be a sweetheart - not to mention quite beautiful too - and she couldn’t pass up this opportunity to get to know her better.

Dela sat down on the bench beside them, Shangela joining her, waiting her response. Dela buried her head in Shangela’s shoulder, whispering ‘thank you’ over and over again.

Shangela felt her heart begin to fly, and she couldn’t think of why.

Shangela broke the hug, grabbing Dela’s hand and walking the both of them to the sink. “C'mon honey, let’s get your face washed so you don’t look like a hot mess. If you can let’s hang out after school.”

Dela smiled at her, dousing her face in cold water, feeling energy soar through her as it hit her face. “Sure, that sounds lovely.”

After sharing phone numbers, the two of them grabbed their backpacks, ready to head out after spending far too long in there. Shangela’s hand fumbled in the front pocket of her backpack, searching for a box of Altoids. She took one in her mouth.

“Have one girl, you need it after all the coffee you drink.” She could tell Shangela was being playful - nothing in the blonde’s voice indicated bad intents.

Dela laughed, taking one out and popping it in her mouth, the peppermint freshening her breath.

“See you soon girl,” Shangela waved goodbye, heading out of the bathroom.

Dela’s face was illuminated with the biggest smile it’s ever had. She didn’t really know why. “See you soon,” she whispered back, in the silence of the bathroom.

—————————————————

The past couple of weeks had been some of the best either of them had in their lives. They spent time hanging out as often as they could, and texted on those days they just couldn’t be together in person, especially when Shangela had work. It excited Shangela to have a real person for a friend - not a fake, popularity-obsessed one. She could talk to Dela about seemingly anything, from grades to personal issues and everything in between. Dela always listened and gave her advice when she needed it. Shangela was, for the first time, not feeling left to the side in a friendship. She felt like Dela truly cared about her and her wellbeing.

Dela didn’t know what to expect initially, but had all her doubts and scared about Shangela shut down that first time they hung out after the bathroom incident. She just had an aura consisting of genuine, loving, reality-checking behavior that Dela just loved. Shangela was never one to lie - she always told it how it was and she respected her immensely for that as it’s so easy to lie. She initially thought of Shangela being a substitute for Jinkx but she no longer viewed her in that manner - she was nothing like Jinkx. She was just uniquely Shangela, and when Jinkx returned from Seattle she couldn’t wait to tell her what’d just gone down.

“You’re friends with who?” Jinkx whisper-screamed at Dela, a bewildered look on the ginger’s face as she attempted to take in what Dela had just told her. The two were in Dela’s bedroom for a sleepover, where Dela just unraveled the news to her friend.

Dela snorted at her response. “You heard me.”

“Christ, I leave for one week and a year’s events have gone by. I’m warning you right now, if she ever hurts you or you let her I’m personally beating her into a pulp.” She pointed a finger directly at Dela when she said the last fragment of her sentence, establishing her meaning well and clear.

Dela threw a pillow in her face. “She’s not gonna do that, I promise.”

Jinkx got off the floor, rolling herself into Dela’s bed and shutting off the lamp as she turned on the TV. “Don’t make a promise too soon. Now let’s watch something before I pass out.”

—————————————————

It had been a month since Shangela and Dela had first met that day, and Dela was just now getting to see Shangela’s apartment - purely because the two had to finish a biology project they’d been assigned to work together on.

Shangela fumbled with her keys as Dela stood behind her in the hallway of the building. “It’s not much to look at so don’t be surprised.” Dela laughed as Shangela finally managed to get the door to unlock after numerous tries.

Closing the door behind her, Shangela led Dela around and allowed her to take in her surroundings. The apartment was rather simple - it had both a modern and cozy feel to it. Dela couldn’t help but notice the lack of people in the apartment.

As soon as they got to Shangela’s room, and both of the girls plopped down on her bed, Dela decided to ask her what the deal was with it. “Hey Shangie?”

Shangela’s head turned toward her, putting down her phone. “What’s up sweetheart?”

The cute nickname made Dela’s heart fly, but she tried to not let it be visible. “I’m sorry if this is rude to ask, but you appear to live by yourself, how come?”

If there was one thing that hurt Shangela slightly, it was talking about what had happened between her and her parents. Dela immediately sensed the discomfort on Shangela’s face after she’d asked her the question, and instantly felt like shit. She reached a hand out and rubbed Shangela’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to Shangie, I’m sorry if I hurt you in anyway.”

“It’s ok, just that it’s hard what I went through with my parents.” Shangela paused momentarily, deciding whether she should say the next thing or not. “Promise you won’t judge me for what I’m about to say?”

“Unless you murdered someone, I have no judgement in my heart towards you,” Dela reassured her, smiling with her eyes.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “So when I was around 13, my mom caught me watching lesbian porn. I’d been doing watching it for a while but I got careless that one day, you know? So then my parents had a long talk with me and sent me to conversion therapy and all that shit,” Shangela took a pause, her eyes beginning to water. She hated the fact that she was about to cry like a baby in front of Dela, but she’d seen the other girl in that state before so she felt less embarrassed.

“Oh no, you poor thing.” Dela immediately engulfed her in a tight hug. “What happened after, since obviously conversion therapy isn’t a scientifically proven way to become straight?”

“I faked that it worked for a while, but last year they caught me kissing a girl and that was their final straw. They kicked me out and I haven’t spoken to any of my family in about a year.” Tears stained Shangela’s cheeks as she thought of her family; all the good memories that made her wish this all hadn’t happened. She really did love and miss her family, but she would have been even more miserable staying in the closet but being with them.

Dela could feel her adrenaline spike as she heard Shangela tell her that she was gay. “I’m gay too and my parents didn’t react well either when I came out. They told me to never talk about it again or they would throw me in the streets. I know exactly how you feel, there’s just so much hate and ignorance in this world, it sucks.”

Shangela couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief pass through her body as Dela told her that she was in the closet as well, and how she didn’t just get up and leave. Of course Dela wouldn’t do the latter - she knew the girl well enough by now to know that she doesn’t judge a soul - and she honestly wasn’t expecting her to tell her that she was gay as well.

“We really are the same, aren’t we?” Dela laughed, punching her arm lightly.

“Now I can send you pictures of girls that I think are hot,” Dela told her, winking.

Shangela couldn’t help but smile as she saw her wink. It gave shy, cunning, and flirty all at once.

Maybe it means something… maybe it doesn’t.

“Cmon girl, we all know I’m the standard of beauty.”

“Wow, society’s standards are that low?” Shangela’s mouth gaped at Dela’s answer, the once silent room filling with laughs and guffaws.

“Fucking bitch. Let’s get started with this bio project and make it good so we don’t hear Smith lecturing our asses on how we’ll fail the AP test.” Shangela couldn’t thank Dela enough for brightening up the mood, but now it was time to come up with a project worthy of at least a passing grade.

“Boo,” Dela pouted, sighing as she went to get her laptop.

“Hurry back quick so we can start baby.”

Dela was now incredibly grateful she had her back turned to Shangela so she couldn’t see how much that nickname made her blush. She returned, both laptop and her bio binder in hand and sat on the bed once more, Shangela having wiped her face of the tear-stained foundation and runny mascara and eyeliner from crying, yet chose to reapply her red lipstick. Dela couldn’t help but notice how good of a color red was on her.

“I like that lipstick shade on you, it looks so beautiful.” Dela had been pulling up the rubric to see exactly what they had to accomplish - and of course they got the project focusing on sex cells.

“Thank you darling, maybe I’ll give it to you one day,” Shangela spoke, wrapping her arm around Dela’s waist and looking on with her at the screen. Was that flirtation in her voice? No - couldn’t be, probably just meant she’d buy it for her birthday or something. The arm was an innocent gesture but she couldn’t help but feel her heart burst from it. Oh god, why was she getting so enamored by Shangela all of a sudden? She’d always acted this way around her - it meant nothing one way or the other, right?

What was this girl doing to her?

Dela couldn’t say anything else besides, “Let’s get this started.”

And so they did.

—————————————————

“Dela? Earth to Dela?” Jinkx waved a hand in front of Dela’s face, who’d been staring at her locker for the past five minutes. Dela immediately sprung back to life, twisting the combination.

“Sorry, lot on my mind right now. You have time to talk?” She shoved several books in and slammed the locker shut with her foot.

“Sure do. Let’s walk to the coffee shop, you can talk to me about your issues throughout the journey,” the redhead replied, tapping the top of Dela’s head. Dela couldn’t help but notice Shangela walk right by the two of them as they neared the front door. She winked at Dela, then began heading toward the gym, presumably for cheer practice.

Jinkx had noticed as well, and gave Shangela a confused look to her back. Nonetheless, they walked out together and Dela began the long process of explaining everything happening to her to Jinkx.

“So basically I wanna tell you something she told me the other day but promise you won’t tell anyone about it? Like, ever since I’ve known this I’ve been feeling weird things towards her and I don’t know why.”

“My lips are sealed doll.” The two decided to sit down on a bench in the park, which happened to be right by the café they’d been headed to. The ginger played with the rips in her jeans, still looking at Dela, fully alert.

Dela whispered so that nobody besides the two of them could hear. “We came out to each other. I’m only whispering in case she isn’t out yet.” Her voice leveled to a normal speaking voice. “Now I feel like everything she does is flirty, and I don’t know if I’m just being too hopeful or there might be something there.”

“What sorts of things are making you think she might like you?”

“She calls me these really sweet nicknames and I blush every time she calls me them. Like she calls me baby and darling all the time and I haven’t heard her say my actual name since the first day we met.”

Jinkx’s fingers moved onto scraping the black nail polish she had on. “Hmmm, that’s tricky because a lot of people do that sort of nickname thing with close friends. I mean, I do it to you on the daily. Buttt, it can be a sign. Give me the rundown on the rest.”

Dela began to count off with her fingers as she recited. “She gets kinda touchy with me, she’s always in the mood to hang out with me, I told her how nice her lipstick looked on her and she said she’d give it to me and I don’t know whether it’s a pass or not, you know?” She got frustrated with herself as she realized that her potential signs just sounded like Shangela being a good friend, which of course she was. “It’s so hard to explain, but I just feel like she does.”

“I bet you there’s one very obvious sign that you’ve forgotten. Think Dela, think,” Jinkx persuaded her, knowing there’s got to be one key factor to making the final verdict.

Dela hesitated for a moment, before speaking. “I mean, she’s cried in front of me, but I don’t think that’s a sign? I know she’s not known for crying but that didn’t seem like a sign to me, maybe it is.”

Jinkx’s eyes widened. “Oh no honey, she loves you. Shangela hasn’t cried in front of anyone in this school since pre-k. Which I commend her for, I can’t go for even a month without crying.” Dela felt her heartbeat speed up. “But the question is, do you like her? And I already know the answer to that, you do. Make a move on her before she thinks you’re not interested. That probably won’t end pretty.”

“You support me being with her?” Dela almost felt the eyeroll Jinkx gave her in response.

“As long as you’re happy with it, I don’t give a shit you do. But mark my words, if Shangela Wadley ever even thinks of hurting you, I will make sure she gets it.” Dela smiled, hugging her.

“Thanks dude.”

“No problem, I love being the third wheel,” Jinkx spoke, sarcastic. “You can get your girl after we finish this shift.”

Dela sighed, annoyed, as she’d forgotten completely about their shift. “Three hours of hell and I can go over to her house.”

The two got up and began heading toward the coffee shop, where they both worked. “What’re you gonna do there with her?”

“I’m addicted to Game of Thrones thanks to her now, so we planned on watching it for a movie night. Maybe a special topic will be brought up.” Dela looked at Jinkx and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Ah yes, that topic being on the role of the nucleus in a cell?”

“Sure,” Dela rolled her eyes as Jinkx laughed, both reaching the glass entrance door of the coffee shop simultaneously.

“You’re so in love.”

—————————————————

“Hey girl!” Shangela greeted Dela in pajama pants and a t-shirt, hair up in a bun. Her look may be seen as lazy and boring to others, but Dela saw her looking equally beautiful as she did all made up. Shangela enveloped Dela in a hug.

“Hi Shangie!” Dela’s hair was wet and cold against Shangela’s scalp - she’d probably just washed it - and Shangela didn’t care one bit. It was unlike her and she knew that - cold wet hair was her worst enemy.

Everything is appealing when it’s done by the one you love, isn’t it? Shangela shook that thought out of her head. It was time to accept the fact that Dela had no feelings for her in that way and just thought of her as a close friend. The thought of that pained her, but she felt like it was obvious at this point. Dela probably would have made a move on her by now if she liked her, as Shangela thought her flirting made it clear that Shangela liked the other girl.

God, she really needed to get out of her head for a second, didn’t she?

“Hey girl, need help with your stuff?” Shangela asked, noticing Dela carrying a bag with night clothes, which appeared to be rather heavy. Dela shook her head in refusal, but her eyes glimmered, thanking her for the offer.

“Can I leave this in your room?” Shangela waved her off, giving the signal to do whatever the hell she wanted. Dela ran across the living room to the bedroom, plopping the bag on her bed before coming back to the couch where Shangela was sitting, curled up in a blanket. “How rude of you to not give me one too.” Shangela laughed.

“Girl please. Go steal one from my room.” And so she did.

Dela returned with a blue blanket, with the pattern being the phrase ‘Halleloo!’ written all over it. “The most Shangela one I could find,” Dela mumbled while curling herself into a ball with the blanket, her head lying on top of Shangela’s lap purposely as the two sat on the couch. The blanket smelled like her too, and Dela couldn’t get enough.

Shangela ruffled Dela’s hair, smiling at the girl. “Excellent choice dear. Let’s watch this shit now.” Dela wooed in response.

For the next hour or so, the two girls stared at the screen, Shangela making remarks on how she was literally Daenerys or how she was the mother of the dragons. Dela would just smile in response, enjoying the sweet moment as Shangela gently stroked her hair, treating her with care and caution. The tension between the two was clearly thick to anyone but them. After a second episode had concluded, Dela flipped her body around so she was facing Shangela, but her head still in her lap. Shangela looked at her confusingly, the movement drawing her attention away from the credits.

“I wanna ask you something,” Dela said, looking up into Shangela’s eyes, who at this point had retracted her hand from the other.

“What’s up?”

“Do you like anyone?” Um, duh, is what Shangela wanted to say, but she couldn’t bring herself to be that brash. Hesitation evident, she eventually responded.

“Mhm.”

“Cool, I do too.” That phrase had sunk any hopes Shangela had of Dela liking her, and all she wanted to do was cry. “Let’s play a game.”

Shangela raised her eyebrows at her. “A game? What do you mean?”

“Like,” Dela paused for a moment to collect her thoughts before sitting up, “We each reveal one characteristic of the person we like so we can guess who the other likes. We say 5 qualities and at the end we have to guess.”

Fuck it, why not? “You go first darling.”

“Sure.” Dela was happy yet extremely nervous, wondering if her plan would blow over. “She has blonde hair.”

“What a specific quality.” Dela smirked. “She has black hair.

Dela thought for a moment before saying the next trait. “Her first name is eight letters long.” Shangela raised an eyebrow at her. Ok work, she thought. Shangela barely knew how to spell her own name, let alone the number of letters in it.

“Hers is four letters long.” Dela wanted to gape, but knew she couldn’t. Who else had black hair and a four letter name?

“Hmmm, she’s a cheerleader. A pretty good one at that.” Shangela was almost positive she could hear her heart pounding out of her chest when Dela said that. It’s gotta be her, there was literally no other person in the school it could be.

Shangela thought for a moment before saying the next hint. This could either blow up in her face or make her the happiest person in the world. “She was crying in the bathroom about finals one day and I helped her out.” Shangela both couldn’t wait to see Dela’s reaction and feared it.

She felt Dela’s hand graze hers, and was petrified as Dela hadn’t responded right away. Dela’s other hand brushed the curly blonde hair out of her face and stroked her cheek lightly.

“It’s me huh?” Dela asked her in a faint voice. Shangela wanted to roll her eyes so hard at that question. No, it’s the fucking Pope.

“Mhm, if you don’t feel the same I’ll never mention this aga-” Shangela had been cut off by Dela pressing her lips against her own. Her body had tensed up immediately before relaxing into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Dela. Everything felt right. Dela’s lips were warm and so soft, and her thumb continued stroking Shangela’s cheek as the two shared the first out of many tender moments.

Dela broke it, tears welling up in her eyes as she realized the reality of this. This girl loved her. She vowed to herself to treat her like a goddess, as she deserved nothing less than that.

“It’s so early but I want to let you know that I love you, and I have for the past couple of months. You’ve made my life so much better and I feel genuinely happy whenever I’m around you, it’s not the fake kind that I give to most of the people in school,” Dela didn’t look Shangela in the eyes speaking this, focusing on chipping the nail polish on her fingers. Shangela tightened her grip on Dela, rubbing her back with her hand lightly and stroking through her hair with the other.

“Same here baby. I love you so much, and I hope you know that. You bring out the best in me.” Dela gave her that smile - that beautiful fucking smile that she loved so much - and buried her face into Shangela’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe it took us so long to admit it to each other,” Dela said, breaking the silence they’d had momentarily. Shangela leaned in to give her another warm peck on the lips before agreeing with her.

“Whatever, we have each other now and I can shower you in love.” Dela smiled against the skin on Shangela’s shoulder.

“Sounds great.”

Shangela turned off the TV, lifting the girl still wrapped in her blanket as she shuffled her way to her bedroom, still wearing hers. Dela kisses the same spot on her cheek repeatedly throughout the short journey, and let out a whine when Shangela released her from her grip, leaving her on the bed under the covers. She removed the blankets from their bodies and discarded them haphazardly across her room. Shangela joined her in the bed, Dela snuggling up against her warm body as Shangela hugged her tight, pressing a kiss into her neck before beginning to doze off.

As they began to fall asleep, they were over the moon as they were finally able to lie in bed with the one they loved.

—————————————————

After that weekend, they made a promise to each other to not keep it a secret. Of course, not rub it in everyone’s faces, but to not avoid little things like holding each other’s hands in the halls or sneaking kisses when nobody was looking (or so they thought).

That Monday morning, Jinkx was all but shocked seeing the new couple hugging in front of Dela’s locker, which wasn’t too far from Jinkx’s. She smirked at Dela, mouthing 'I told you so!’ before being waved off by a flip of the middle finger by Dela.

Eventually, the two had to part, as they had different home rooms. Their different classes didn’t stop them from all their thoughts being consumed by one another.

Lunch time rolled around, and Dela was thoroughly surprised when she saw a particular girl with winged eyeliner and red lipstick coming her way. “Oh look who decided to join me for once?” She spoke teasingly, Shangela rolling her eyes.

Shangela sat next to her. “I don’t give a fuck about my old 'friend’ group anymore.” Shangela said, emphasizing the word friend with finger quotation marks. “I have you and I really don’t care what they have to say about me anymore.” Dela looked lovingly into Shangela’s eyes before pressing her lips against hers. People were probably staring but they didn’t care - let them stare.

They pulled apart way too quickly for either of their likings, but neither girl wanted to get in trouble by the staff. Dela’s lips had become a faint red from her lipstick and Shangela loved the way it looked on her more than anything.

“I’m getting you to wear red lipstick soon, it looks so nice on you.” At this moment, Jinkx and the rest of Dela’s small friend group had joined the table, everyone but the three who knew gaped at the situation. Shangela simply smiled and greeted them all warmly, getting to know the rest of Dela’s friends. Some of the popular group that had been used to Shangela being with them had caught notice of the situation.

“The fuck is she doing?” Violet questioned to Ginger and Manila, confused as hell as to why Shangela was hanging out with new people, much less why she was getting all touchy with a band nerd - Dela. “What’s gonna happen to the cheer team now?”

Both girls were about to agree with her when a voice came up behind them. “I’m fine with it. She looks really happy.” Manila turned her head to see who was speaking.

It was Raja.

“But-” Ginger began to speak before Raja shut her down.

“Honey she’s never looked happier than she does right now. Let her live. Shangela’s staying on the team, she told me.”

The trio nodded their heads reluctantly, continuing to watch the scene a bit more before turning back to their table.

Despite attempting to focus her attention on the new girls, Shangela’s mind and eyes would always go back to Dela. She couldn’t help herself, and Dela winked at her when the period was close to being over, letting her head rest on Shangela’s shoulder and wrapping an arm around her waist. Shangela looked at her, her heart being warmed as Dela’s beautiful blue eyes sparkled and glittered at her. She was perfect.

“You guys are so fucking cute,” Aja said. The whole table noticed the scene occurring when Aja had pointed it out and began squealing. Dela’s face flushed with embarrassment, but Shangela, being the girl she was, leaned in to kiss her. The squeals turned into 'aw’s and they pulled apart at the exact moment the bell rang.

Although they had to part ways since they didn’t share their last two classes together, Shangela followed her to the band room, not caring if she was late. Dela refused to let her but Shangela was resilient.

As they turned a corner, Dela mumbled, “I love you,” into Shangela’s ear. The shorter of the two whispered the same thing back, and there they were at Dela’s stop.

“So movie date tonight?” Shangela asked her. The two didn’t have plans but fuck it, why not make some?

“By movie you mean Game of Thrones? Of course. I’m surprised you’re not sick of me after being around me literally twenty-four seven.”

“I could never get sick of you, you stole my cold dead heart. Now go in before your teacher yells at you.” Shangela stood on her tippy toes, pressing a kiss into Dela’s hair before running off before she was insanely late. Dela’s face had a bright smile plastered on it, her heart warm and full.

She was perfect.

[dragonydreams]

The Reading Perch - Captain Canary

Title: The Reading Perch Fandom: DC's Legends of Tomorrow Rating: Teen Pairings/Characters: Sara Lance/Leonard Snart Summary: Bookstore AU. Sparks fly when literary agent Leonard finally meets bookstore owner Sara for the first time. Timeline: n/a Word Count: 3,422 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Berlanti Productions, DC Entertainment, and Warner Bros. Television. Betas: Thank you to angelskuuipo and shanachie for looking this over for me. Author's Note: Happy Birthday @stillthewordgirl!

Or read at AO3

  Leonard sighed as he drove past the "Welcome to Starling City" sign.

It wasn't that this was his least favorite place to be, but after being on the road for nearly a month, he'd give just about anything for that sign to say Central City instead.

"Lucky twenty-one," Mick said from the passenger seat.

Leonard smirked at his oldest friend and client. "You say that about every new town we go to."

"And so far, they've all been lucky," Mick said. "We've sold out at almost every book signing on this tour. Don't want to jinx us now by not calling a new city lucky."

"I'll give you that," Leonard conceded.

Sometimes he couldn't believe how lucky they'd been - and how much the tables had turned for them.

Leonard and Mick had met as kids in juvie. Mick had saved his life when a group of older boys had gone after the scrawny newbie. They'd been close ever since.

They had made a good life for themselves as criminals. Leonard was the brains and Mick was the brawn. They kept each other balanced.

What Mick had never told Leonard, was that he enjoyed writing science fiction.

Leonard knew that Mick enjoyed reading the genre - they both did - but it's quite the leap from reading to writing.

Not until one day when Mick almost shyly approached Leonard to say that he wanted out of the life. He'd written a book and it was going to be published.

Once he'd gotten over his shock, Leonard had insisted on seeing the contract to make sure that his friend wasn't getting screwed over. Then he asked to read the book.

And just like that, Leonard became Mick's agent and assistant, fully supporting this turn in their lives.

Now they were on stop twenty-one of a very successful book signing tour. Independent bookstores only, per Mick's insistence.

They checked into their hotel and, feeling a bit restless after being in the car for so long, Leonard decided to go check out the bookstore the event would be held at the next day.

The Reading Perch was an eclectic blend of cozy bookstore and pop culture mecca. While they had good sized sections for all of the genres you'd expect to see in a small bookstore, there was also an impressive graphic novel section of the store.

Interspersed with the books were displays of literary tee-shirts, bags, pillows, figurines, and even those oddly popular Funko Pop dolls.

Leonard wandered around until he found himself in front of a large display of Mick's book. He picked one up and opened to the back cover to read Mick's bio. It was as much a work of fiction as the rest of what he was holding, but thanks to a hacker he knew, no one would know about their criminal pasts.

He stood there long enough for a pretty blonde young woman to approach him.

"If you're interested in that book, the author's actually going to be here for a signing tomorrow," she said, gesturing to the poster with Mick's face on it beside the display.

Leonard looked up at her, smirk in place. He noticed her name tag and asked, "Are you Sara Lance?"

The woman looked surprised, then a little wary. "How did you know my last name?"

Leonard gestured to her name tag that bore her name and Manager beneath it before holding out his hand to her.

"I should probably introduce myself. Leonard Snart. I'm Mick Rory's agent."

Recognition filled Sara's eyes and she immediately shook his hand. "Of course! I should have recognized your voice from our calls. I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow."

"We made good time getting into town so I decided to check out the venue. I hope you don't mind."

"Not all. I can give you the two cent tour now, if you'd like," Sara offered.

Leonard carefully set down the book he'd been holding. "I'd like that very much, thank you."

For once, Leonard wasn't just putting on the act he usually had to perform when meeting the store managers at these events. He and Sara had spoken frequently over the past several months while he had been scheduling the tour. They'd had an immediate repartee from their first call and he always enjoyed checking in with her.

She was much younger than he'd imagined. He knew he was stereotyping her based on her appearance, but she gave the aura of someone who would prefer to be hiking through mountains or white water rafting rather than a person who enjoyed spending their days indoors with books.

"And this is where Mick will be," Sara said, pulling Leonard out of his thoughts.

She had led him to a nook about halfway through the store. There was a small desk with a comfortable leather desk chair for the author, and a couple of smaller desk chairs pushed against the wall, presumably for the author's entourage.

Leonard walked behind the desk and experimentally pulled on one of the drawers. Sara pulled a set of keys from a pocket and opened first that one and then the others. Inside were different colored Sharpies as well as some granola bars and gum.

"Gotta keep them locked or else the contents would keep disappearing. Learned that lesson the hard way," Sara apologized, locking the drawers again once Leonard's curiosity was satisfied.

"I like that you're so well prepared," Leonard said.

"We try to host a lot of these events to engage readers with the authors. We've learned that being prepared always comes in handy."

"As the person who would be running around to find this stuff, it is much appreciated," Leonard said.

At that moment, Leonard's stomach gave a loud rumble, reminding him that it had been a long time since they had stopped for lunch.

"Have you had dinner yet, Sara?" he asked. "Perhaps we could continue discussing the plans for tomorrow over a meal?"

Sara bit her bottom lip and glanced towards the front of the store. "I'm supposed to help with closing and get everything set up for tomorrow after that."

"What time do you close?" Leonard pressed.

"Nine o'clock," Sara said.

Leonard glanced at his watch. "It's only seven now. How is the pizza place that I passed on my way here? That should give us plenty of time to eat and have you back in time to close."

Sara whimpered. Actually whimpered. "You had to go tempting me with the best pizza in Starling," she groaned, dropping her forehead onto his chest.

"Is that a yes?" Leonard asked, knowing he'd won.

"That's a yes," Sara agreed. "Let me tell Nate that I'm leaving."

Leonard slowly walked to the front of the store, allowing himself to be distracted by the various displays on his way. Sara was waiting for him when he got there, a grin on her face.

"Enjoy what you see?" she asked, teasingly.

Leonard ran his eyes over her body and smirked. "Very much."

Sara's cheeks flushed and she quickly turned away to open the door and hurry out.

Leonard caught up to her easily. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"You didn't, not really," Sara said. "I guess I kind of deserved it. You didn't see me giving you pretty much the same look before I approached you. I wasn't expecting you to be so--"

"Old? Tall?" Leonard guessed.

"Ruggedly handsome," Sara finished.

It didn't take them long to reach the pizza place. After ordering at the counter, they found a booth and settled in to wait.

"I don't want to offend you, but I've gotta ask," Leonard started, earning him a raised eyebrow from Sara. "How did you end up working at a bookstore? You don't seem the type, and I've met a lot of bookstore managers over the past month."

Sara laughed and settled against the back of her seat. "I get that a lot. I guess you could say that it's in my genes. The bookstore was my grandmother's. When I was little, my mom used to drop me off there to hang out instead of getting a babysitter. The books were my babysitters. I found myself studying literature in school and after bumming around Europe for a while after graduation, I found myself back at the Perch. With all of Europe at my disposal, I kept finding myself in bookstores so I figured that I may as well as go home to mine."

"It's yours?" Leonard asked, surprised. Her name tag said Manager, not Owner.

"Yeah," Sara confirmed. "My grandma left it to me in her will."

"I'm sorry," Leonard said, automatically.

"I'm not," Sara said. "I mean, I'm sorry that she's gone, of course. I miss her every day; but being in that store is like having her there with me every day, too. I always expect to find her around the next bookshelf or coming out of the stockroom."

"So I should complement her on the fantastic wordplay in the store's name?" Leonard asked.

Sara's face lit up. "You get that? Most people don't. I wouldn't have pegged you for an ornithologist."

"I read the encyclopedia a lot as a child," Leonard said. No need for her to know that it was in juvie. The reading selection hadn't been all that bountiful, but there was a full encyclopedia set that someone had donated. "Starlings are perching birds."

"Guess we're both full of surprises," Sara said.

"It appears so," he agreed. He raised his bottle of water in a toast, "To many more happy surprises."

Sara tapped her bottle against his. "I certainly hope so."

Their pizza arrived and they hungrily dug in, barely talking as they devoured their first slices.

"So how did you become a literary agent?" Sara asked, once they'd satisfied their initial hunger. "I tried looking you up online, but you're practically a ghost."

"I like my privacy," Leonard said.

This was something that Hartley had warned him about. He'd asked if Leonard wanted him to create new pasts for him and Mick after wiping their records, but Leonard had said no. He didn't want to have to remember some fake history. He'd always been able to BS his way out of situations when people started asking personal questions and assumed he could do the same now. It wasn't like he usually got chatty on these stops. Usually.

"There's privacy and there's living in the dark ages," Sara said. "No Facebook, no Twitter, no LinkedIn, even."

"Cyberstalk much?" Leonard teased.

"I may have gotten a little curious after our fifth call," Sara admitted, picking at the cheese on the half-eaten slice of pizza on her plate. "I don't usually click so well with someone just on the phone."

Reluctantly, Leonard admitted, "I do have a Twitter account so that I can follow what people are saying about Mick's book. It's just not under my name."

"Is he why you became an agent?" Sara asked.

"He is," Leonard acknowledged. "We've been friends for almost as long as I can remember. He had my back growing up and since I have a better head for business, when he got a publishing contract, I became his agent. It's my turn to watch his back, now."

"Aww, that's so sweet," Sara said.

"I'm not sweet," Leonard insisted, scowling.

"You keep telling yourself that, but I now know better," Sara said, grinning.

"Don't you have a bookstore to get back to?" Leonard said, grumpily.

Glancing at her phone, Sara's eyes widened. "Shit, yes I do."

She took several bites of her pizza, polishing off the slice on her plate in seconds, causing Leonard to stare in awe. She certainly could pack it away for such a tiny woman.

"I was only joking," he finally said.

"I wasn't," Sara said, while chewing. "It's after 8:30. I really need to get back to the store."

"I hadn't realized it was getting so late," Leonard said.

"Time flies, and all that," Sara agreed, wiping her mouth and hands on several paper napkins before standing. "Walk me back?"

"It would be my pleasure," Leonard said, standing.

Leonard would have liked to have walked slowly back to the store, to extend their time together, but Sara kept a brisk pace. She was on the clock, after all.

"Are you coming in?" Sara asked, when they reached the door.

"I should probably go check on Mick," Leonard said.

The wind was blowing a lock of hair across Sara's face, and he slowly reached out to brush it off her forehead and behind her ear. The brief touch was electric and he had to force himself to step away from her.

"I'll see you in the morning," he said. "Have a good night, Sara."

"G'night, Leonard," Sara said, hurrying into the store.

He could hear her apologizing for being late, and the teasing tone of her co-worker in response.

The next day couldn't come soon enough.

~~*~~

Leonard's alarm woke him the next morning from tantalizing dreams of a certain blonde bookstore owner.

If he found himself shaving a bit more closely today, he told himself it had nothing to do with the beautiful woman he'd be seeing very soon.

Looking through his suitcase, he chose a blue dress shirt to wear with his black jeans. A gray sport coat finished off the look. He knew that Mick would be similarly dressed in blue jeans and a white dress shirt. Some variation of these outfits had become their costumes for these events.

"How's the space?" Mick asked as they settled at their table after having visited the breakfast buffet.

"It's eclectic," Leonard said. "I like it."

"This is the one with the girl you like, right?" Mick asked, causing Leonard to choke on the bite he'd just taken.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Leonard said, coughing.

"Sure you don't," Mick said, dryly. "Because you always choke when I talk about girls."

"How'd you even know about her?" Leonard asked.

Mick rolled his eyes. "Because every time you talked or got a text from her, you'd get this silly expression on your face. It doesn't take a genius to see that you're smitten."

"Since when have you used words like 'smitten'?" Leonard deflected.

"Since I became a successful, published author," Mick retorted. "She that hot?"

"Yes," Leonard reluctantly admitted, "but it's more than just her looks. I really like her."

"Mazel Tov," Mick said, taking a bite of bacon. After several bites he noticed the pained look on Leonard's face. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that she owns a bookstore in Starling City and we live in Central City; when we're not traveling for book signings," Leonard said.

Mick waved him off. "Who said we have to live in Central? More specifically, who said you have to live in Central?"

"Because Central City is our home," Leonard said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "My sister's in Central."

"Lisa travels for work almost as much as we do," Mick objected. "I don't see why we can't work from here instead of Central."

"You want to move to Starling City so that I can date a girl that you haven't even met yet?" Leonard asked, dumbfounded.

"It's not like we have office jobs or anything," Mick said with a shrug. "If you like the girl, I can support that. It's what we do. You'd do the same for me."

Leonard nodded absently. He would drop everything for Mick if he asked him to. And he wasn't even asking; Mick was offering.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Leonard said. "Sara and I haven't even been on a date."

"Didn't you have dinner last night? I'd call that a date," Mick commented.

"How did you even know that?" Leonard asked.

"You're wearing the blue shirt. The one that matches your eyes," Mick pointed out.

"What does the color of my shirt have to do with anything?" Leonard asked, taking a vicious bite of his toast.

"That's the shirt you wear when you want to impress someone," Mick said.

Leonard threw up his hands, knowing there was no way he was going to win this argument, and finished his breakfast in sullen silence. Much to Mick's amusement.

~~*~~

The signing event went off brilliantly. There was already a long line of people when they arrived at the store and Sara was there to greet them.

Mick gave Leonard a wink as he noticed how closely Sara stayed to Leonard's side; her hands fluttering around her as if she wanted to reach out and touch him, and then would have to force herself not to.

Leonard wasn't much better. Seeing Sara again had him wanting to pull her against his side and wrap an arm around her waist to hold her close. It was strange for him to crave casual, physical touch so strongly.

Sara helped Leonard keep Mick fed and hydrated, insisting on breaks once an hour for him to rest his hand.

As the event wrapped up, Mick announced that he was going back to the hotel to rest.

"Need to go soak my hand in some ice," he said, by way of explanation.

"Thanks again for choosing the Perch for your stop in Starling," Sara said, shaking his hand.

"It's been our pleasure," Mick said. "I hope to see you again soon."

"Me, too," Sara agreed, her eyes straying to Leonard.

"I'm going to stick around here and help Sara clean all this up," Leonard said, his eyes never leaving Sara.

Mick huffed out a laugh. "You got it, boss. Remember what I said."

"Go ice yourself," Leonard retorted.

After Mick left, Sara asked, "What was that about?"

"Nothing. We'd been talking about how nice it was to spend time together in person, you and me. And what the future could hold."

Sara nearly dropped the pens she'd been putting away. "Even though we live in different cities?"

"What if we didn't have to?" Leonard hesitantly asked.

Sara's face scrunched up in confusion. "But we do. You live in Central and I live here."

"What if I didn't live in Central?" Leonard pressed. "What if I lived here?"

"I can't ask you to move here for me," Sara objected. "We haven't even been on a real date!"

"That's what I told Mick when he suggested that we move here," Leonard said. "You don't want some guy you barely know to descend on your life, no matter how fun the flirtation is."

Sara reached out to grab Leonard's hand as he turned his back to her. "No, that's not it at all. Talking to you is always the highlight of my day. Meeting you yesterday was one of the best days of my life."

"Mine, too," Leonard admitted, entwining his fingers with Sara's. "So, if I stayed, you'd want to see where this flirtation can go?"

"What about the book tour?" Sara asked. "How do I know you don't have some shop owner waiting to fall madly in love with you in every city?"

"Are you saying that you've fallen madly in love with me?" Leonard teased.

"I would have to be mad to have fallen in love so quickly, wouldn't I?" Sara responded.

Leonard's breath caught. "I-- I--"

"Looks like I've rendered you speechless," Sara said, smirking.

Leonard could only nod, not wanting to ruin what was happening by putting his foot in his mouth.

"Bet I know a better way," Sara said, stepping closer to him. She rose on her toes and reaching up with her free hand, drew his face down to meet her lips.

The kiss was as perfect as Leonard could have hoped for. Kissing Sara felt like coming home.

Sara released his hand and wrapped both arms around his neck, pressing her body against his as the kiss deepened. Leonard held her against him, one hand around her waist as the other slid into her hair.

It was the catcalls from Sara's employees that finally broke them apart.

"I'll take that as a yes," Leonard said, playing with the ends of her hair.

"Yes," Sara said against his lips, drawing him into another lingering kiss.

Mick was going to spend the rest of the tour gloating about this; but as Sara snaked her tongue into his mouth, Leonard found that he didn't care. To have Sara in his arms like this would be worth all the teasing he was going to get from Mick.

He couldn't wait.

 The End