#'who appear to... their class' - he doesn't know for sure that that was their lifestyle

[skyriderwednesday]

That doesn't narrow it down much Holmes, there were several French artists called Vernet.

I start to believe that 'art in the blood' is better known as Autism.

[dairy-farmer]

Another stalker/civilian Au~!

Its an Au where Bruce get thrown into some multi-verse adventure with a few other Batmen, not long into his grief spiral? And between Climactic Battles(tm) they try to tell him to be... less harsh, on his Tim? Because they know he is them. He won't listen if they say Be Nice. He's raging and full of grief.

And he's like? Tim? Timothy Drake. The neighbors child who should be in Morocco, THAT Tim?

Yep. He becomes your next Robin. They ALL tell him. Because *various explanations basicly boiling down too "you publicly lose your shit in grief"*. And? Bruce has time to work through his immediate, VIOLENT denial? While on that adventure?

Comes back having reached a stage of "Absolutely Not. No More Robins." Not because it's TIM, but because he refuses to lose another kid? But ALSO? He's now Hyper Aware of this kid?

That's HIS kid.

He has to PROTECT that kid from trying to become Robin. From trying to join the Caped lifestyle. So he, now that he's no longer risking just destroying just HIMSELF, drags himself together. Painfully, slowly, and with help, but he does it. Is he okay? Not remotely. But he slowly gets functioning again.

Twitchs everytime Tim looks too hard in his direction. Seems too concerned.

He carefully manipulates Tim's school to offer better and better distractions. Opportunities for growth and too entice. Photography, engineering, languages, skating, game creation. Anything.

He monitors Tim too and from school. Stops purse snatching and petty crimes far before Tim ever sees them. Makes SURE there will never be any call to action for his boy. No great tragedy.

Then, of course, the universe (as it tends too) spits on his efforts in mockery. Tim's parent are kidnapped, killed, by a madman. He is orphaned, like Bruce was. Left with too much wealth and few to protect him from those who would take it. It's like looking into a mirror of the past.

He steps up.

His lawyers vicious, the will, a forgery they'll never be able to prove is fake. They KNOW it is. Because they destroyed the original. However, his fake is better then theirs. His lawyers far more bloodthirsty. He sees most of the Drake Industries board in jail by the end of the month.

But... Timothy Drake is not his son. He's his foster child.

One who avoids him.

Who chokes on the secrets he KNOWS, but doesn't know, Bruce knows he knows. Who mourns his parents. Who's trying to hold on to the shreds of his life. Bruce watches him through the Manor cameras and obsesses. So small. So sad. They have both lost so much.

It is almost... perverse, the weight that lifts from Bruce's shoulders, when he drags his weary body back to the cave each night. After brutal patrols and the untold horrors man visits upon man. And he can just? Flip on the cameras. Find Tim. Curled warm and soft, safe and alive, in his bed. Playing some game, later then he should, as young men do. Sneaking a snack.

The living representation of what he's fighting for.

But Dick comes back, raging through and misunderstanding. Thinks Tim is Robin. Lashes out. The shouting echoes. By the time everything is cleared up, Tim has already quietly found himself a boarding school abroad. Dick is devastated. Feels like a monster. Bruce wants to refuse. But whispers of another break out on TOP of League of Assassins agents being spotted lurking around?

He hates it, but agrees.

It's a miserable slog of time after that. Report cards and updates the only highlights. A crime lord that turns out to be his dead son appears. A BIOLOGICAL Son that hounds him to be Robin appears. Eventually Tim returns. Technically, aged out of the foster system.

As though Bruce would ever let go so easily.

He welcomes him home at the airport. His boy, grown into his slender frame and delicate features. Wants to drive him to the Manor but drives him to the upper class apartment Tim has bought himself instead.

Adjusts his patrol routes mentally.

Learns, through his planted cameras, that Tim's schoolmates have been a TERRIBLE influence. Casual nudity, sprawling hedonistic nights of take-out and wine, and most concerning? Mentions of "hook ups" he will be missing, over the phone. Bruce is appalled. How did he MISS this?

Sure, Tim cleans up well. Presents himself as reserved if flirtatious in the boardroom. Is now working to seize control of his birthright. But... but...!

Bruce is conflicted. But can not tear his eyes away, as he reviews the surveillance from the Welcome Home gala he threw for Tim. Was it coincidence? Or intentional. That every "hot young thing", as it were, that Tim pulled into a side room to fuck him throughout the night. Was the civilian identity of a Cape?

Bruce, as he tends to, gets obsessed. Watches as Tim is fucked by hooks and lovers alike. As he pleasures himself in his home, works in his office, commutes to and from work.

Maybe it gets weird. Because of course it does. Maybe Damian volunteers, after noticing his Father's obsession, in hopes of gaining som of that attention for himself. Seduces Drake. Finds they have a lot in common. Fucks him knowing his Father is watching. Realizes he is IN to that. That he enjoys the murmured commands of his Father in his ear, telling him how best to earn his approval.

Maybe it's just Bruce. Who finally shows up as Batman. And they pretend. That Tim doesn't know. That Bruce doesn't know he knows. And Bruce rocks his world.

However it ends? Tim is a kept man. Batmans secret civilian lover. And he gets WEIRD about it~☆

-🐼🐼🐼

it would be just like bruce to get weird over it especially since, whether he realized it or not, he's formed a pretty severe complex over tim 😩😩😩

[problemswithbooks]

So, I recently watched Helluva Boss and as always I've been prusing the tags for it on tumblr to see what other people think about the story and characters.

Something that stuck out to me is when people say Striker is a hypocrite because he hates the Royals, puts down Blitz and Fizz for being with Royals, but he, himself, works for one. Also that his pitch he gave to Blitz about teaming up to take down Royals was all a lie.

Now, I'm not going to say he's not being a bit of a hypocrite, especially given how much he hates Royals. What I will say is that I understand why Striker wouldn't see it that way (besides the fact he has a seemingly desperate need to feel superior to other imps).

Striker wants to kill Royals--that is very clear. A huge hurtle to that goal is that they are immortal. The only thing that can kill them is Angelic Steel--something that is rare and expensive. Yes, Striker is supposedly a well known assassin, but it's doubtful he'd ever make enough money to afford Angelic Weapons without taking on extremely wealthy clients. The wealthiest would be those at the top.

We don't know if Striker has worked with Royals before. If we assume Stella was the first Royal he was hired by, that makes his choice to work with her make far more sense. Particularly when we take into account who her target is--her equally Royal husband.

Unless stated otherwise later, Stella must have provided Striker with his Angelic Weapons so he could kill Stolas. She doesn't just give him a single weapon, either. She gets him a sniper rifle, pistols, a knife and a rope so he can incapacitate Stolas and take his vast magic abilities away, rendering him helpless. On top of that, she is also paying him money.

Given Stella never brings up the fact he lost the sniper rifle, or demands he return the weapons she provides, this deal he's making, although hypocritical, is only a benefit for Striker. He's getting paid to kill someone he wants to anyway, and a new arsenal that gives him the capability to kill Royals afterward.

This is why I don't think his offer to Blitz was a lie. I think what he told Blitz is his long term goal/plan, and was simply offering Blitz to join him since he found Blitz to be somewhat equal to him after Blitz did so well in the harvest games. Once they killed Stolas, got Stella's money, they would turn around and start using those funds and weapons to kill more Royals.

The reason Striker doesn't see himself as on the same level as Blitz and Fizz with their relationships with Royals is because he sees himself as using Stella, where he perceives Blitz and Fizz as being used. It's true that Blitz gets similar benefits from his relationship with Stolas (if Striker even knows about Blitz using Stolas's spell book for his business, I can't recall) but given what Striker saw of their relationship, he would see Stolas using silly pet names despite Blitz disliking it and see that as Blitz debasing himself publicly for Stolas. Yes, Stella doesn't treat him with the upmost respect, but it's over the phone, without witnesses. Nor does he give her anything in return except a dead husband--someone he would have targeted anyway.

He sees Fizz as even worse because, to him, it appears Fizz has given up his own autonomy to live a cushy lifestyle. Yes, Fizz gains many benefits from being with Ozzie, but Striker views it as letting Ozzie take advantage of him, to let Ozzie treat him like a pet (which some people do, do to some imps). He doesn't know Ozzie loves Fizz--franky I don't think he'd believe a Royal could love an imp at all anyway.

Yes, he may work for a Royal, and take her orders, but he does so to pilfer more and more Angelic Weapons from her as well as take her money, all of which I'm sure he tells himself he will later use against her and the rest of the upper class. It's a business transaction that he actually holds all the cards in. Unlike Blitz and Fizz he doesn't have to publicly debase himself to get the benefits he seeks. At least that's how he sees things.

[yandere-kittee]

Derrick Cohen (Yandere Playboy x Gn! Reader)

Contains: Isolation, Manipulation.

Derrick is rumored to have been in bed with the entire female population in the school, but what they don't know is that he's only ever dated one girl and only lead girls on because he doesn't seem to be in love with them at all.

Sure, he's pretty and all that but what else? They don't know him that well and neither does he, so why would he bed or be in a relationship with someone he barely knows?

He'd only be in a serious relationship if he knows that he can trust them and they can trust him. (Yes, I am implying he's demi romantic and demi sexual)

He can be flirty but he too knows his limits and boundaries, he's a playboy, not a home wrecking piece of shit.

He doesn't get attached to those he flirts with.

Though, you we're different.

You treated him normally and barely glanced his way despite his good looks and popularity, you two had been assigned to do this thesis statement and you two swapped numbers to have contact with each other outside shared classes.

You didn't try shooting your shot even though you could have the chance of getting close to him and maybe going on a few dates or something like that, but no.

You focused on your thesis statement, even helping him with areas he couldn't quite grasp or fully understand, you didn't belittle for it, at all.

Maybe cause you really wanted to focus on your studies and think that you'll focus on love when you got your while life together, but that's just the author talking.

He wanted to get closer to you since he genuinely wanted to be friends with you, who knew.

Who knee he'd actually fall in love with you, someone who didn't seem to have that much pressence.

He really wanted to get to know you but you had the biggest trust issues, it was hard letting your guard down on someone whose rumored to have been in bed with the whole female population of the school.

But that was it.

They we're just baseless rumors, so who we're you to judge? So you let your walls down a bit and gave him a chance, ACL chance for the two of you to get to know each other.

It was at first, weird, since he was so eager to get to know you, asking you so much questions that you couldn't be able or didn't want to answer some of them, he was very enthusiastic.

But you could guess that was apart of his charm, he looked better when he smiled, you also like it that he has two dimples on his cheeks when he smiles.

He was a bit clingy at times and would appear out of no where but you truly enjoyed his company, though it slowly became overbearing when he'd accompany you everywhere, not just at school but outside as well.

If you we're going to go out, he'd ask if he could tag along, if not outside then inside your own home, you had a little grooming kit in your room that had some of his clothes, self care items and a few stuff from his previous visits.

He's rarely seen hanging around with his usual group of girls and is now always seen next to you, he's willing to give away his play boy lifestyle for you to stay by his side.

Since you hardly interacted with other students, it was easy to isolate you from the rest and keep you all to himself, telling you how other students gossip about you behind your back, insulting you and overall saying how you're just clinging onto Derrick and don't know your place that well.

Buy don't worry, all you need is him and no on else♡

,★⌒ヽ(●＾､＾●)Kiss!

I hope you enjoy this one, I'm a bit sleepy and definitely need to sleep early cause I gotta wake up early but I got motivation back (Did I? I don't know...)

Picrew link (I lost the link, so if anyone knows it and has it please let me know so I can properly credit the artist.)

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

Hiiii~

I've been mentally drained but well! Congratulations on being so close to getting your degree 🥳💕 Do you know what you want to do in the future?

Honestly it's been horrible to live the rom-com life but at least it's keeping my friends entertained 🤡

I kinda have been thrown around left and right by the situations since the beginning of the year 🙃 Currently aiming for who might be the man of my dreams but it's so frustratingggg. Basically guy A went to my friend to ask for my number cause he's interested in me. The description of me shows he has known me at least since summer 22 cause he mentioned me bringing my dog on campus which I didn't do since then. And well she said no which had me screaming internally and told her to give him at least my insta next time.

They did cross paths again at the fitness and he said she did well not to give him my number cause he should go the traditional way. They talked a bit and that was it. Thing is guy A sounds like the absolute dream: respectful, well spoken, takes care of his younger sisters and mom,is a med student, has great fashion taste, etc. So 3 months almost went by and A never appeared so I lost hope thinking why would a guy like him be into an average girl like me.

So guy B comes into picture. We have some classes in common, we start talking and I'm mind-blown cause we have great deep conversations. I thought why not see if anything could happen. Eventually he realised I am interested and asked me while we were walking by the lake on campus. I said yes and he said he's not disinterested but doesn't want to dive head first in and go with the flow. I said that's cool with me and then asked to kiss me. During that time I wasn't talking with my best friend which is very important.

A week after the kiss I made up with my friend and during a group meet up with the girls I am told A went and talked to her again at the end of the previous week. He tried to ask about me but since my friend told him we were on a break he told her that he thinks I found someone cause he saw us kiss, but he was happy for me. Thing is B called after our kiss to inform me he isn't emotionally available and doesn't want a relationship, but we still remained friends.

A week again goes by and A bumps into my friend again on campus (she's more on campus than I am so I guess it makes sense) and he told her he's certain I found someone cause I was with the same guy but he felt happy cause I seemed genuinely happier. He told her he'd keep his distance to be respectful and cause every guy deserves a chance (CRYING). When she told me that I started screaming once again on the inside and told her she must tell him what really is going on.

Two weeks ago he met up with her since it was her bday but since her friend (almost gf) was there they couldn't speak but he knew she had good news for him in regards to me, so they scheduled to meet at the end of this week and talk about me.

In the meantime ex korean bf that broke up with my ex friend made a new account after 3 years to follow me on insta cause I blocked him. And an old guy friend asked me to be fwb literally after I was sharing with him how frustrated I was on not being able to find a serious relationship.

I'm so frustrated by how commedic and ironic my love life is but also stressed out cause I'm waiting to hear if my chances with A are screwed 😭 Please pray for things between me and A to workout cause he's literally the man of my dreams 😭😭

-🐇

Hey 🐇 anon! It's so good to hear from you again and hear all about your y/n tales.

I am really excited about getting my degree and I would like to pursue the Communications field in the future, I am not entirely sure what area I want too specifically, I'm kinda just letting it hang in the air for now.

Okay, I'm really confused and also curious to know more. I don't know what you're manifesting to experience this y/n love triangle lifestyle but I am all for it and I am living vicariously through you.

As far as my love life goes?

Absolutely barren.

I don't have a crush, a romantic interest or even anyone that I remotely have a connection too because it just hasn't happened (it's also probably because I rarely leave the house).

But I'm cool with it, I'm too content in my writing and being single to worry about entering into a relationship anytime soon.

Oh, person B just sounds like he doesn't know what he wants and doesn't want to let you go either, the worst type of toxic fboi.

But person A does sound really nice and I wish you all the best with him, go out and live that Y/N lifestyle babe :)

[aziraphales-library]

Hullo!!! I was wondering if there were any Victorian! AUs. M ratings would be grate :D

Well hello!

We had one such ask before so check out the previously recced fics here.

There is also a Collection with Historical AUs you can browse.

Refrain [M] by Cardinal_Daughter

Refrain

1. Stop oneself from doing something

2. A comment, statement, or complaint that is often repeated.

Ezra Fell is tired of being so afraid. Human AU. Victorian Era.

I Wish it was Real Love [M] by wyrmy

Ezra Fell is a dull and respectable middle-class man living in Victorian England. From the outside, he seeems to have a normal, respectable lifestyle and a normal, respectable marriage. Granted, his wife is a bit witchy, and he's fairly effeminate, but by and large he's unremarkable. Little does anyone suspect that goings on at his 'Gentlemen's club' are anything but gentlemanly, and he desperately needs to keep it that way.

And because M is not a super popular rating in this genre a few E rated fics...

Hell Fire and Holy Water [E] by TawnyOwl95

The Reverend Eastgate is being haunted and the ghost seems to have a personal interest in his failures as a vicar, family member and human being. Eastgate doesn't know how long he can resist it’s attacks.

The mysteries Mr Eden works for the Authority, a magical organisation that Eastgate has always been warned to avoid.

Although as the haunting progresses it becomes clear that there is more terrosing the parish of St Beryl's-At-The-End-Of-The-World than Eastgate's ghost. The two men will have to work together if they both want to survive it.

Blow Out All the Candles [E] byNadzieja

Crowley leans over the timber balustrade of a dingy building that was once an upscale theatre. He breathes the stuffy air that smells of smoke and sweat, and taps his heels on the sticky floor.

But he can't really complain - London sure has some horrid spots to offer, and the ringer house at Cleveland Street hardly is the worst of them.

*

Crowley is a rent-boy working in a gay brothel in one of the poorest districts of London. One night a rather mysterious and very handsome client appears, coincidentally just after another gay brothel is exposed after a raid.

Who is this angel-like looking man? What is his connection to the whole situation? And more importantly–will Crowley be able to keep his emotions at bay?

Time is ticking, since more and more gay brothels across the city are being raided by the newly appointed chief of police…

Also a tag search for Victorian AU.

~Mod N

[lovethisletters]

The Bat & The Lantern || Batman x Reader

Hi, lovely! I had so much fun writing this (I'm not gonna lie, I was quite nervous at first, since I don't know that much about the whole green lantern universe, but guess it turned out...ok?) so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did and to be honest, I would like to revisit this story again in the future!

Little disclaimer: The reader is a Human green lantern but similar to star-lord she lived the majority of her life in space, that's why she's so oblivious as to whom Batman is, also this takes place during Dick Grayson early years as robin (12-13).

Word count: 2233!!!

Summary: Reader is a new member of the Justice League...but Batman doesn't seem too happy about it.

Keys: Y/S/N: Your Superhero Name | Y/N: Your (real) Name.

Hal Jordan was your friend since you joined the green lanterns (which it was barely 3 or 4 years ago)

Basically...you were "new"

But that didn't stop your fellow green lanterns (?) From seeing all your potential.

Everyone is convinced that with the right training and perseverance, you will become one of the greatest green lanterns of all time.

So, it didn't take long before you proved yourself to be capable enough to join the big leagues.

More specifically, The Justice League.

Hal was the one to introduce you to his companions.

The Amazonian, the human looking alien, the speedster, the other Alien not so human looking, the half robot; everyone was so nice to you since they met you.

Everyone except...The grumpy bat.

When you first introduced yourself, he didn't even bother to be as welcoming as the others.

He just stood there, looking all big and serious that you almost thought it was a statue or the poor guy had catatonic lapses or was way too shy or socially awkward to approach you.

You felt bad, so you approached him instead.

—Hi! I'm Y/S/N...—You said enthusiastically before being abruptly interrupted.

—I know, I heard your introduction already—His voice so devoid of any kind of emotion that you may as well had been talking to a machine.

"Scanning complete, Batman"

A voice inside his cowl informed him, it sounded like an older man with a British accent.

—Thank you, I'll check it later.

That’s when it hit you…the reason why he was watching you so intensely and standing so incredibly still: He was scanning you.

Fucking. Son. Of. A. Bitch.

You stayed there, your face paralyzed with surprise and anger, without knowing very well what to answer; you didn't want to cause a scene on your first day, but this man was just so rude; That is not an appropriate way to receive a new member. yes, it is normal to have suspicions, but you would appreciate if he had the decency to let his suspicions be known when you weren't present.

—she just introduced herself and already on with the paranoic behavior, Bats? seriously? —Hal stepped in your defense.

—this is a routine procedure; I'm just being cautious.

—He was like that at the beginning with all of us too, don’t worry he’ll warm up to you in no time—Wonder woman whispered in your ear after watching your uncomfortable expression.

Ultimatedly you decided to listen to the amazonian and let that one slide, “is normal to be wary of new things anyways” you repeated yourself.

As the months passed you have grown quite frustrated. Between all the missions and meetings even though you felt your relationship with the rest of the team grow closer and they began to trust you and respect you; your relationship with the Batman stayed pretty much the same.

Yes, there was a bit of progress….a bit.

He was bit more talkative to you, a bit more “friendly”, a bit more trusting.

But it was always just a bit never actually fully a teammate to you, your relationship felt more like distant coworkers.

At the beginning it didn’t worry you too much, until your lack of communication started to mess with your performance in the missions, sometimes something completely bizarre and unexpected would happen and because both of you didn’t know each other very well, the mission would take the double amount of time to resolve since you couldn’t coordinate at all.

One time he almost ran you over with his batwing…

The whole thing was kinda funny looking back on it but at the time you were furious (rightfully so)

In his defense, he didn’t knew you were there…I mean…you basically where standing in his parking spot (not that you knew there was such a thing, most members could fly or at least jump really high, so you kinda always forgot he couldn’t…and to be honest you didn’t know his exact powers)

—Sorry—was all he said as he got out of the strangely shaped flying vehicle and directed only one glance at you to make sure you where ok before entering the building, always maintaining that characteristic calm and cold demeanor.

One day you entered the hall of justice earlier than usual only to find an unexpected guest sitting in one of the empty chairs his gaze fixated on a book, he was wearing a rather colorful suit of some sort matching his green mask, then you realized when you were close enough…he was a C H I L D.

You panicked, why was a child here? Is he some sort of mini spy? How was he able to get through the security system?  Did he touch anything dangerous?

This and many more questions ran through your mind, the child noticed you were looking at him and only gave a polite nod as a greeting before returning his attention to his book.

Perhaps a school trip that you weren’t aware of was taking place and this kid strayed from his class? Perhaps he was looking for one of your teammates to ask for a photo and got lost and decided to wait here for his teacher? That will explain why everyone wasn’t here in the meetings room, perhaps they were busy giving the (hypothetical) group of children a tour?

—Hey kiddo! Are you lost? —you began the conversation in a friendly tone before kneeling down a little in order to appear less imposing…after all he was a child you didn’t wanna scare him.

He looked at you so incredulously.

You could almost hear him think “ma’am wtf are you doing???” through his expressions.

—What’s your name?

—Ummm…uh…Robin?­—He spoke like it was something obvious  while signaling the “R” symbol on his chest.

—Robin, uh? What a pretty name! tell me Robin…why are you here? Are you lost?

Poor boy he was so confused, you didn’t know who he was? Didn’t any of the members told you about him? And more importantly…Why where you talking to him like if he was a 5-year-old?

—No, ma’am…I’m just waiting for Batman.

“Batman? Was he a fan of Batman of all superheroes?”  It surprised you a bit, usually kids tend to like superman or wonder woman more since they are nicer and charismatic, and Batman was the opposite.

—Sorry Kiddo, I don’t think he’s one for photos, perhaps you could ask the others some other time! ­— you began explaining trying to dissuade the kid while guiding him towards the exit.

—He’s not here for photos—smooth as ever…the Bat was behind you.

—He’s my sidekick.

Your jaw dropped, a sidekick? He’s a CHILD! You knew superheroes had sidekicks, but you never knew they were that young!

Before you could even begin to protest, Batman ignored you, looking down at the child and instructing him to collect his things.

—Hurry, you’ll be late for class again. — He said before disappearing behind the door that led to his parking spot.

Robin quickly followed, hanging his backpack over his shoulder before stopping in his tracks directing an apologetic smile towards you and saying:

—Don’t worry miss, I can take care of myself! — He must have noticed the concern on your face before leaving.

Since that day your routine changed.

You would wake up earlier, many times you’ll be the first to arrive to the Hall of justice, and even have breakfast flying on your way there all for one thing: Robin.

Once you learned he was Batman’s sidekick you couldn’t help but worry over that poor child, “what if he gets hurt? Is he eating/sleeping/resting properly?” you just couldn’t help yourself.

At first it was just checking on the kid by just…seeing him in the morning and greeting him casually but there were times he wasn’t there, and you would panic internally and there was no other way to calm your anxiety until you would ask the Bat about the child.

He would always replay shortly: “He’s at home” “He’s at school” “He’s busy” and your conversations always would end there.

One day that Robin was there however, instead of your usual ‘greeting nod’ he started talking to you.

He asked you all sorts of things (that weren’t compromising to your real identity ofc) “What’s your favorite color?” “What music do you like?” “What’s your favorite movie?”

And it started from there.

The conversations with Robin grew not only more frequent but also more personal (as personal as someone with a superhero lifestyle can be), to the point it had become a routine for you to come early and talk to the boy, sometimes you had breakfast together or even helped him with his homework before the Bat would take him to school.

Perhaps it was because you didn’t have many acquittances here on earth, but Robin became family to you.

And family takes care of each other.

It had been a rather difficult and spontaneous mission; Lex Luthor was starting to act a little bit fishy (more than usual) using his connections and money Luthor had been acquiring/robbing very specifically concerning items all over the US, his next objectives: a Radion sample being investigated in a secret laboratory in Star city and a Dionesium sample...contained in the Wayne tower laboratories...

The team decided to split to put a stop to Luthor’s minions and his plan.

The Bat insisted the rest of the team should go to Star city, telling them that he and Robin could handle it, but everyone was immediately against it: Luthor had already collected relatively powerful items and being the intelligent motherfucker he is, probably transformed some of those items to give to his goon’s so they might have a chance in harming any of the members if they were to interfere.

Ultimately, the team agreed you and cyborg would accompany them to Wayne Tower.

Robin was stoked, he would get the opportunity to fight alongside you! But Batman…not so much…he kept trying to lose the two of you on the way there; fortunately, cyborg put a tracker on the batwing, he wasn’t going to get rid of you that easy.

Upon your arrival, you could spot several men (armed like if they were military but with a much more upgraded equipment) already leaving the building, carrying two tanks (presumably full of that substance Martian Manhunter had mentioned before) and heading to a truck without any plates.

Long story short: you organized a plan as quickly as you could but…something went wrong…Cyborg and Robin were supposed to create a distraction while the two of you recovered the tanks without damaging them, since the properties of the substance within remained unknown.

But something went wrong: You and Batman failed to coordinate and so you were spotted by the henchmen, they started aiming their weapons at the two of you, initially you thought a force field generated by the power of your ring would be enough...oh no, honey, you’re so wrong.

Sonic weapons were able to not only break your concentration quickly, but also made your ears bleed! One after another you kept re-making the fields, but the sonic waves so deathly and loud just kept coming.

You don’t know how but you were able to stand your ground long enough to make cover not only for Batman and allow him to get the tanks back safely but also for the rest of your team and give them a slight advantage to take down as many of Luthor’s minions as they could.

And then…you passed out.

You woke up at the infirmary in Justice Hall, your head a mess and wrapped in bandages, you had broken your arm because that shit inside a cast too for some reason…and…your ring was gone!

Panic!

No, never mind it was on the nightstand next to the chair in which batman was sitting on.

WAIT…next to the chair in which batman was sitting on?!?!?!

—How are you feeling? — you didn’t know if it was him suddenly talking or the genuine concern on his voice that startle you, so you just nodded slightly while he approached you.

—Can you hear me properly? —Surprisingly you could, but you still were a bit taken aback by his presence.

—I…­—Before responding your brain reminded you of the fact that you didn’t had your ring on, hence your secret identity was revealed to Batman. Your hands practically flew to your face in embarrassment. You didn’t know why but without your mask you felt naked and vulnerable.

He noticed.

His gaze studying your pained expression before he let out a small sigh.

—I came here…to thank you…and apologize— hesitantly his hands moved to the back of his cowl.

—You not only put yourself in danger for Cyborg and Robin, but you also concerned yourself with my safety even when it was probably my fault that we ended up in that situation —He admitted pressing a hidden button loosing up his cowl before finally taking it off and reviling the most gorgeous man you’ve had ever lay your eyes on.

—And for that I thank you and apologize…sincerely—Such sudden action left you speechless for a while, Batman not only had thanked you and apologized, but he had entrusted his identity to you.

—I think-…I think we started with the wrong foot; you know? —You finally were able to respond, breaking the silence that filled the room and surprising him slightly by your sudden declaration.

—Let’s start again…Hi! I’m Y/N—You imitated the same friendly voice tone you first used to talk to him.

The lips on the man in front of you curved forming a subtle almost imperceptive grin.

—Hello, Y/N, I’m Bruce…Bruce Wayne.

 ♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

 WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! IT. TOOK. SO. LONG. Sorry :c

I had a bunch of ideas for this request but ended up going with this one since I wanted to expand on their beginning, I’m still trying to figure out a way to write Bruce and this was my first attempt, so…sorry if it was…bad :c I’ll try harder next time!!!

Any errors you might see, please let me know; English is not my first language so I’m trying to improve.

In the final scene I wanted Bruce to show he recognized the Reader as an equal so that’s why he took it off…still I felt like it could improve.

 ♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov​ where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be a little bit fond of her as much as I am!

Anyway! Thank you for reading!

[slowlyreadinghouseofmirth]

Page 7

In truth, he had never liked her as well as at that moment -> Selden's affections here are plain to see, made so especially by subordinate clause 'in truth' which conveys an honesty and freshness about his feelings. Most importantly, he likes her when she is being her true self, unconventional, and willing to take risk. It's likely informed by his disillusion with high society and finding commonality in someone willing to disregard its etiquette. This is where Lily is unique.

There's also this sense that Selden likes Lily because she is impulsive and this sparks his curiosity to try and understand why she does the things she does-- understand Lily as a person.

He knew she had accepted without afterthought: -> This reaffirms Lily's lack of hesitancy, which alludes to how willing she is to be in Selden's company. It also shows how comfortable she is with him as she is aware of the rumours that could occur but never merits them with being a possibility, showing great trust.

Alternatively, being aware of the risks and having not afterthoughts could suggest that she doesn't fully understand the risks' depth and nuance as in future the situation at Monte Carlo would suggest, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

he could never be a factor in her calculations -> there's a colon that separates this clause from the previous one which suggests this is an explanation for Lily's certainty. To me this would point more towards Lily not really associating the risk of rumours with Selden because she trusts him so much. i.e she does not think of him when she thinks of the risks. But given that they are going up to his apartment it seems strange that Selden would not think himself a factor in her decision. It's therefore possible that he thinks that Lily does not think of him worthy of great consideration.

Also the noun 'calculations' would suggest a lot of thought had gone into the decision where it was previously implied it was one of impulse. This seems like Selden thinks that Lily is playing an intricate game, which further demonstrates his curiosity about her and need to understand her.

there was a surprise, a refreshment almost, in the spontenaity of her consent -> This further contrasts Selden's perception of Lily's 'calculations' and I think the narration is a fine weave between objective reality--where Lily is impulsive-- and Selden's subjective perceptions-- where Lily appears impulsive but there is something more complex informing her decisions. I think this is meant to show that Selden is blinded somewhat by his affections for Lily, seeing things deeper than what are there or what everybody else sees. Alternatively, we as the reader lack Selden's sight into the complexities of Lily and so she is introduced to us as other people see her, which isn't well at all, and we have to learn how Selden sees her. It's a challenge to care for Lily as he does.

The spontaneity invokes a light hearted and refreshing feeling of being in love which mirrors the honest of truth mentioned earlier.

So there's Selden's surprise at Lily being so spontaneous which draws back to a previous point about she is unique for being impulsive almost reckless. It's like we get a sense of her character and her environment from how the two are at odds with each other. Lily is impulsive; noone else of her class should be like that. In a way that makes her free from the system and yet shows her struggle against it but ultimately her struggle will be more defining.

She noticed the letters and notes heaped on the table -> I assume that this is a reference to future letters although I don't know if they would be the same ones. If they were, I don't even have the mental capacity to unpack that. Just the thought that Lily's fall is inevitable, that even when she is happy, having a nice time, an unknown omen lurks within the same room that will bring her sorrow... oh its symbolic, for sure. But I don't want to think about it.

Lily sank into one of the shabby leather chairs -> the verb 'sank' shows how at home Lily really is with this kind of surroundings, how the shabby whilst not fashionable or expensive, is comfortable. From this we and the the pile of letters we get an image of a a slightly disorderly but well-lived in home. This is one of the tragedies where we see the possibility of what her future with Selden could look like where it is unconventional but Lily is comfortable at home even with it.

"How delicious to have a place like this all to oneself! What a miserable thing it is to be a woman," -> I love Lily's exaggerated turns of phrases like 'delicious' and the exclamations; I think Wharton's emphasis on these exaggerations is to capture Lily's innocence through her speech by making it similar to that of a child who is easily excitable.

Again with the exaggeration but this time with 'miserable', we get the sense that Lily has found the world difficult as a woman to live in but miserable seems too strong of a word, certainly at this stage in the book and is sort of hidden within her other hyperbolised expressions. Maybe this creates a kind of cry-wolf situation where, when Lily properly starts to struggle, people don't take notice not only because it wasn't the done thing to do to talk about struggles but also because of her melodramatic personality, everyone thought the same stuff was happening as it had before and Lily was making a big fuss over nothing.

There is repetition of 'miserable' in association to being of female sex further down the page which is another example of Lily's melodrama. But at this point we as a modern audience start to question if she is actually alright (or at least I did). I'm not sure if a contempary audience if the time would have given the strict taboo over discussing any kind of struggle financial/physical health etc. let alone the discussion of mental health. From the impression I get of the time, the only real source of outlet for people struggling with mental health beyond self medication was art, which makes me wonder as to the position Wharton is writing this from.

she leaned back in a luxury of discontent -> The juxtaposition of 'luxury' and 'discontent' raises an important theme that wealth does not equate happiness and that Lily is not happy as a socialite but happy in the company of Selden, and that actually money is the source of Lily's unhappiness. In this specific context, she is lamenting her lack of freedom to live the lifestyle that Selden does.

"Even women," he said "Have been know to enjoy the privaledges of a flat." -> Putting the discourse marker directly after the subject of 'women' breaks it apart from the rest of the sentence and emphasises the extraordinariness of women being able to live independently. But it also raises the possibility of it and suggests that Selden thinks Lily is extraordinary and unconventional enough to achieve the possibility if she chose to.

"Oh governesses– or widows. But not girls– not poor, miserable, marriageable girls!" -> Again we have the breakdown of womanhood into distinct classes like governess, widows, and girls,which creates the idea that there's no intersections between any of them and is a reflection of of societies fixation for categorisation which loses sight the complexity of situations and problems. And it also makes it easier to place social stigmas like those on governesses and widows. Those stigmas are made apparent here but in contrast to how Lily describes girls, being a governess or a widow seems desirable.

In the list of adjectives 'poor, miserable, marriageable', marriageable is equated to these other adjectives and we see that Lily associates marriage with a poverty of kind, of the heart.

It's also interesting that Lily talks about herself as a girl where Selden speaks of her as a woman. Lily plays up her innocence as she has probably been taught to to make desirable marital match, but with that Lily carries around an air of immaturity and naïvity; she's still very child-like. Perhaps that's a part of her that's trying to cling to her youth so she doesn't have to face her future where she will need to marry to survive. Lily sees her adulthood as a constraint on her and her desires whereas Selden sees her potential.

"you mean Gerty Farish," she smiled a little unkindly. "But I said marriageable–" -> Okay so definitely a little tone deaf on Lily's part buts she's honest to a fault and her honesty is refreshing and entertaining.

I'm no expect on autism and don't claim to be but there's something about Lily's mannerisms here that reminds me of people who I know and am very close with who are autistic. And it makes me wonder if Lily was autistic and neurodivergence was recognised in her time if her fate would have been any different.

"Her cook does the washing and her food tastes if soup. I should hate that you know." -> I just love the imagery of the first sentence, it strikes my funnybone. I guess it also illustrates that Lily's privileged upbringing if she thinks this is a bad situation to live in.

Okay I'm going to bring in a bit of a technical term to describe the verb 'should'. So it's a modal verb (expressing possibility based on context) but specifically a deontic modal verbal, meaning that Lily's hate depends on social rules. When she says she should hate it it implies that society wants her to hate it but she wouldn't necessarily hate it. That's what that verb phrase implies in today's english, but language has changed since the time it was written so it may not have been written with this meaning, especially as a signifier of an older text is the use of modal verbs in places we wouldn't today and a lot more of them.

The shift from Selden's reflections to the quick dialogue and short simple sentences of action creates a lively and charged atmosphere that feels almost flirtatious in its rhythm but by the nature of the content is more domestic (preparing afternoon tea). The balanced turn taking feels comfortable in that they both have equal power in the conversation, being allowed to say what they want to and being listened to. It goes towards simulating what a possible future could be and also shows how happy they are in this moment.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Bonjour ! How are you doing ? I've read you're depressed, I've been through it too, feel free to talk to me whenever you want ! Since you're my favourite writer, I've got an imagine request for you ! Imagine Leviticus Cornwall's young wife has been kidnapped by the gang. She's a classy british girl and she is very pretty, but she is not arrogant and is friendly with the gang. Arthur and her fall in love but Dutch want a ransom and doesn't want her to stay. You can choose the ending.Thank you :D

Awe thanks friend! My depression is luckily on the down low and I am in therapy to learn how to control it, but it’s awesome to hear that we support each other. If you need to talk, I’m here as well!

Sorry it took so long to do this one. Honestly this request could have turned into a multi-chapter fic! That being the case, it’s really long (only 20 pages lol). Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

(Author’s note: Arthur doesn’t have TB in this scenario) 

Word count: ~10,500

You look over at your husband across the breakfast table with disgust. Although it’s a rather rare occurrence for him to join you for your morning meal because his schedule is so full, you’d rather he never did. Of course, you’ve no say in any of this. You’re just his wife, his property. He’s made it clear more than once that he’s no interest in your feelings, your hopes and dreams. 

You’d grown up in London. Your father was and still is the owner of a prominent bank. When you were in your late teens, your father and mother decided to move to New York and start a new bank there. Your father saw the ocean of opportunity there. New York was a fast-growing city, and although it didn’t have the wealthy history of London, it had new sources of money that had yet to be tapped. Your father raved about the correctness people used when they called the area New England, for it was like it in many ways but so many of the people were “new money” and your father loved it. Within only a few years, your father’s new bank in New York took off so well he even built another one in Boston, which was where he decided to permanently locate you, your mother and younger brother. 

When you first arrived in America, you knew very little about the country and certainly nothing about the American West. The little you had learned about the country was mostly in regards to the Revolutionary War a little over a hundred years ago. How the Americans had basically won against the British with little more than varmint rifles and their unique strategies of outsmarting their rivals. You learned in school that thirty years ago America suffered a Civil War, something to do with slavery. You had no idea though that many of the states had wanted to become their own separate country. 

Your mother was aware that your knowledge of America was flimsy at best. Hers was the same way, so she encouraged you and your brother to go and learn about the history of America in order to appear knowledgeable about it despite being a foreigner. However, she wouldn’t let you study at Boston’s library. She insisted that, coming from a wealthy family, you should read from the University’s library and study with their tutors. Only common folk went to the public library, although you thought it would be a wonderful source to observe American culture firsthand. Per her wishes, you went to the University’s library with your brother, but you didn’t like it much. You felt that its books would have been no better than the library’s and the tutors were so stuck up and over-educated, it made you miserable. 

In London, you were constantly surrounded by the wealthier folk since they were the only ones your parents would let you be around as a child. When you moved to Boston though, you were old enough to disobey them and mix in with a different crowd. You found yourself enjoying the company of the middle class. They were not concerned with manners and etiquette. Many of them had a sense of humor you enjoyed and because they were not so caught up in their wealth, they had a sense of community the wealthier folk lacked. They cared about each other. That was something so unique to you that you absolutely loved. It made you openly disobey your mother and you went to learn about America in Boston’s library. They offered tutors as well, and they were friendlier and had a richer knowledge in basic history, not just the history in politics and the prestigious like the University’s tutors had. Some of the tutors had even been involved in some of the events you studied up on. One was a former doctor during the Civil War and he told you some awful yet intriguing stories about it. 

As you learned about America, you found yourself divulging into the American West. Of course you’d heard and learned a little about it as a child, the hot deserts with their cacti and the cowboys. However, as you learned about it now, you realized your previous knowledge had been minimal. You knew nothing of the true wildness of it. The outlaws, the sheriffs that were just as tainted as the criminals they sought. The tough ranchers who fought wars against wolves. The heartbreaking histories of the Natives that had lived and been treated like less than vermin by the settlers. The Mexicans who came and brought pieces of their own rich culture. It fascinated you. You’ve known nothing but civility and the West sounded like the opposite of it. Of course, you read a little about the wild gangs that flourished there and had no interest in experiencing them firsthand or even from a distance. 

Your husband wipes his mustache and beard with a napkin and stands up without looking at you. His servant Bradley comes forward, holding a book open for him to read. You know this book very well. It contains your husband’s daily schedules. You have one as well. You’re used to living by a tight schedule, having done it most of your life. Your husband studies it for a moment and then says something to Bradley. You don’t hear it, not that you care. Without a glance in your direction, your husband turns to leave when the butler, Mr. Blomsbury comes in. 

“Mr. Cornwall, the mayor of Saint Denis is on the phone for you.” 

“About time that wretch finally returns my calls,” Leviticus says. “I’ve been needing to discuss matters with him for far too long. He’s an idiot and I’m a fool for ever getting into business with him.” 

He leaves the room, followed by Blomsbury and Bradley. You sigh and finish your meal, your servant Marie comes forward to clean your plate. “Mrs. Cornwall, you have an appointment with your tailor in an hour. He is expecting you in the…” 

“Yes, Marie, I am aware of this,” you say kindly. “Please make sure the room is ready to receive him.” 

She curtsies and heads off. You dismiss the rest of the staff to do their other chores and head off to your own personal library to read a bit before the tailor arrives. You don’t want to go to this pointless party you’re being dressed for, but you’ve little choice in the matter. 

On your way to the library, you bump into Leviticus Cornwall. Your miserable husband. You apologize for bumping into him as you know it’s the last thing he will do. 

“Y/N, make sure you actually choose a flattering color to wear this time. That purple you wore to the last event washed you out. I had many people ask me if you were ill.” 

“You were the one who told me to wear purple, Leviticus. You wanted us to match, remember?” 

He ignores your remark. “Just pick something that actually looks good on you, Y/N.” He continues on down the hall to his study. 

You sigh. How you hate him. Being born with a silver spoon in hand, you thought your entire childhood you’d be able to afford the luxury of finding someone you loved to marry. In your early twenties, your father and mother took that opportunity completely out of your hands. All the other women your age they knew were already married and some were even mothers. Your father was at least generous enough to want to find you a husband who was wealthy enough to let you live comfortably the rest of your life. Soon after, Leviticus Cornwall became a client of your father’s. They talked much and your father found out that Leviticus was a widower. His wife had passed away some years ago from complications during her first childbirth. The baby hadn’t survived either. It was arranged shortly after your father met him that you two should at least become engaged. 

You were not happy when you found out. You’d recently met a young man at the library you were rather fond of. You knew your father would never accept him, he came from a middle class family. But he was your age, funny, attractive and very sweet. Just before you’d gotten the nerve to ask him out on a date, your father told you about your arrangements with Leviticus Cornwall. The man himself had been present when your father told you this, for Leviticus wanted to make sure you were at least pretty enough to be his fiance. When he saw you, he didn’t smile but he nodded approvingly. 

“She will do,” he said after circling you and assessing your body. “You didn’t tell me she was so young.”

“I have no control of her age, Mr. Cornwall,” your father replied. 

“No I suppose not,” Leviticus answered. “Still. You are lucky that I am a busy man and have no time nor patience to care for the opinions of others when it comes to my lifestyle. I hope she does not either, for some will think it inappropriate a man my age have a wife so young. A mistress, sure, but not a wife.” 

“Of course, Mr. Cornwall. But she will make a wonderful wife,” your mother assured him. “She’s smart, she went to the best girls’ school in London. She also has many skills, she learned to paint and sing from a young age. She’s also finely accustomed to riding a horse. Properly of course, not that uncivilized way some women choose to ride with a leg on either side.” 

Your mother was really selling you to him. Of course, you had learned how to do these things, but it didn’t mean you liked them. As far as riding side-saddle went, you detested it. There was little that was more painful than doing it that way, but of course you’d never ridden the way men did. 

After much discussion, mostly on the matters of your dowry, it was settled. You were to be married to this man whom you barely knew. Three months later, you became his wife, despite him still being mostly a stranger to you. He’d had so little availability during your engagement he rarely visited and when he did, all he talked of was the things he had to do, his businesses and the problems that came with them. How he was interested in buying stakes in certain companies or outright buying them altogether. 

When Leviticus became your husband, you moved with him down to Pennsylvania. He had the largest estate of any person you’d ever known. His mansion sat on over a hundred acres, some of them finely manicured but most used for livestock or farming. His stables themselves were huge and he even had an indoor riding arena, a rare thing to see. Leviticus bred horses on the side, although he did little of the business himself. 

You head off now to the parlor where you are meeting the tailor. After over an hour of measuring and discussing styles, you finally give the tailor the final order on your dress and head out of the room. Marie meets you in the hall and holds open your schedule. 

“Mrs. Cornwall, Mr. Cornwall has just received urgent news from New Hanover. His train traveling through Ambarino has just been robbed.” 

“Well, good for him,” you say, growing tired of hearing about nothing but your husband’s affairs. “I have other things to attend to.” 

“Actually, that’s just it, ma’am. Mr. Cornwall will be travelling later this evening to New Hanover in order to speak with the investigators. As he will be travelling, you are to accompany him.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he wants you to go with him. It’s not because he loves you, hell you’re just another possession of his. You’ll be there strictly for appearances. Marie does not wait for you to respond.

“Your things are already being packed, Mrs. Cornwall. Be ready to leave by this afternoon.” Without another word, she leaves.

You’ve had enough of this. Over the past few weeks, you’ve caught yourself fantasizing about a simpler life, one without schedules and a loveless marriage. One that doesn’t mean you’re surrounded by money but by opportunity. People won’t tell you where to go, how to dress, walk or talk. One where you’d be allowed to just be you. All your life, you’ve been told how to act, how to be. But before you got married and were still studying in the public library, you had all those friends who your father called “common folk”. Although they had undeniably less money, they were happy. Happier than your parents, happier than your husband surely. They were free to go where they wanted and be who they were. You’ve never had that luxury. 

Not only that, you don’t want to go with Leviticus on another boring trip to investigate nonsense with his business. What does it matter if his train got robbed? The criminals likely only took a few thousand dollars and Leviticus had enough to buy a small country if he wanted. Still, you know that if he lets this slide, he’ll feel he’s made himself a target and a fool. As you know, he is all about appearances. You come to the decision to talk to him about you staying here.

You find Leviticus in his study, going over some papers. Bradley stands attentive before him as Leviticus murmurs things about his train being robbed. 

“Mr. Cornwall,” you say as you rarely address him by his first name. 

“Not now, Y/N, I have something more important to see to.” 

“Mr. Cornwall, I want to talk to you about tonight,” you say, sounding more bold than you feel. 

He throws down the papers and glares at you. “What? What could you possibly want? Did you not hear that I have just been robbed?”

You stare right back at him. “I heard, but I don’t know why you’re making such a big ordeal of it. They couldn’t have taken more than a few thousand dollars. Do you not take more than that on a daily basis from the people who work for you?” 

His eyes darken. “I will not be told how to run my business by my own damn wife. Bradley, get out.” 

Bradley bows and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Leviticus stomps up towards you, his teeth bared. You stand your ground. He simply puts his face inches from yours and breathes hard, clearly trying to intimidate you. After a moment, he takes a step back. 

“Now go get ready. I want to leave in an hour or two.”

“I am not coming with you, Leviticus. You can deal with things on your own. Hell, I’ll just be shut up in some damp and poor excuse for a manor anyways. It’s not like you need me there to impress a governor. You’re simply overseeing an investigation of your own affairs.” 

Without warning, Leviticus turns and slaps you hard. You flinch and cup your cheek. Of course, this wasn’t unexpected. He’s hit you several times before, but most of the time he’s been decent enough to put your bruises in places others won’t see. 

“I said you’re coming with me and that isn’t changing just because you don’t feel like it,” he hisses. 

You lower your hand and glare at him again. “No I’m not, Leviticus. It’s completely pointless for me to go with you. You can’t make me-” 

He slaps you again and this time you feel your lip burn. Pulling your hand away, you see a spot of blood on your finger. 

“Don’t make me hurt you,” he snarls. 

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” you say, your eyes watering from the stinging of your face. He raises his hand again but does not swing. 

“If you think what you feel now is pain, you’re in for a surprise, Y/N. Now go get ready. I won’t tell  you again. I’ll drag you out to the carriage by your ears if you don’t come willingly.” 

You take his threat seriously. His servants will not hesitate to force you into his carriage, they’re just as frightened of him as you are. Everything in his life he rules over with an iron fist. His eyes flash as you stand there and you quickly dart out of the room, knowing that to stay means further abuse. 

When you arrive in your dressing room, Marie applies a powder to your face to hide the red welt rising on your face. She says nothing to comfort you though and then she helps you into a dress suitable for travelling in. When you’re done, you dismiss her, claiming you need some time alone. She curtsies and leaves, closing the door. 

You’re done with this. This life, this marriage. You want no part of it. Of course, your parents aren’t a help. They’re the ones who arranged this marriage for you in the first place. You’re going to escape though, and this trip is the perfect opportunity. You know there will be ample opportunities to escape, after all your staff aren’t that tough. They simply take care of you, not act as a guard. 

Quickly, you grab a bag and stuff several items of jewelry into it, knowing you can trade them for money. You won’t go east or north towards Boston or New York. When Leviticus discovers you’ve gone, he will search for you and those directions will be the first place he looks since they’re the only places you’ve been. You’ll head west. Maybe you’ll act as a house maid or something of the likes, except you’ve no workable skills. You’ll work out those details later. Right now you focus on your escape and how you’ll be able to afford living on your own. 

You head into your large closet and grab a small black box behind a rack of overcoats. In it is stored a few thousand dollars Leviticus always keeps in case of emergency. You swiftly empty it, stuffing the bills into your bag. Then you tuck the bag under the skirt of your dress. With a belt, you secure it around your waist where no one will notice its presence. 

A few moments later, Marie enters the room again. “Mrs. Cornwall, the coach is ready. Mr. Cornwall reminds you that you are obligated to accompany him.” 

You nod and grab your gloves, slipping them onto your arms and following her out. Once outside, you hold your head high and Stanley, your coachman, offers his hand to help you inside it. Once you’re settled, you wait a few minutes before Leviticus joins you. You ignore each other as the coach moves.

You’re taken to the train station where you ride inside Leviticus’s personal car and head down to Annesburg. There, Leviticus puts you on another coach but does not accompany you as he wants to discuss buying a stake in the Annesburg mine. You don’t care, of course. Soon his business won’t be any concern of yours. 

The coach leaves Annesburg and heads west in New Hanover. Stanley explains  you’re to stay in a small manor near the border of West Elizabeth. The coach travels further away from Annesburg.

The sun is setting and the coach travels along long grassy plains. Deer dash away from the trail at the sight of your coach. The coach travels over some tracks and then comes to a halt. The driver explains the horses need to rest and feed. Stanley gets out of the coach in order to stretch his legs. You wait for a moment, knowing he’s going several yards away in order to smoke. The driver of the coach is not paying you any attention either as he fiddles with the feed sacks, attaching them over the horses noses. 

Now is your chance. You swiftly look around for anyone who might be watching, but no one’s around. Two men are playing dominoes on the train platform but they don’t even glance your way. A train rumbles up and then stops, preparing to take on passengers. As quickly as you can manage with your heavy gown, you dash out of the carriage and onto the train, not bothering to buy a ticket. Just as quickly, you settle into a seat on one of the finer cars, knowing that you look the part of someone who belongs there. You fidget with your hands, afraid someone spotted you. You keep a close eye on the driver of the coach and Stanley, who’s still smoking. Before either of them even start looking towards the carriage, the train’s whistle blows and begins to move. 

You breathe a sigh of relief as the station disappears behind you and you check again that your bag of stolen money and jewels is still attached to you. You’ll get off at the first station, knowing that a ticketmaster is likely to come around and see everyone aboard has paid. Almost on queue, he comes into your car and starts making his way around. When he gets to you, you slip a ring with a large ruby on it in order to bribe him. He nods and goes on his way. You realize you should have asked him that he’d never seen you on this train, but he’s gone at this point. Oh well, he likely won’t remember your face anyways. 

The train chugs north. You know by this point Stanley knows you’re gone. How could he not know? The coach had only stopped for a few moments. You’re sure at this point they must know you’re on the train. There was nothing else around that could whisk you away so quickly. Now you’re beginning to see the flaws of your plan. At least you have it in your favor that a train is much faster than a coach. 

A little over an hour goes by and the train begins to slow after coming out of a long, dark tunnel. It stops at an old military station, the name “Bacchus” written above a rickety door. Some men, dressed in army uniforms, stand on the platform. When the train stops, you see men begin moving some boxes and barrels off a flatcar towards the rear of the train. Now is the time to leave.

You head outside, glad that none of the other passengers questioned your movements. Once off the train, you travel south, following the road but staying off it in case the coach happens to come along this way. 

You’ve never been this far west before, but the country is beautiful. Tall, wispy aspens flutter their leaves in the gentle evening breeze. An elk lifts his proud head from a berry bush and stares at you, almost as though he knows he’s far more of a threat to you than you are to him. He goes back to browsing as the sun dips beyond the mountains. 

Now you’re faced with another predicament. You’ve never slept outside and you don’t know the first thing about how to start a fire or find shelter. However, in a cluster of trees just south of the road, you see flickering firelight. Approaching it, you see a wagon and near it, surrounding the fire, is a blond man, his wife and two children, a boy and a girl. You approach slowly and the man looks up. 

“Ah, hallo, gnädige Frau!” he says. You swallow. Of course, you took German when you were younger, but it’s been many years. 

“Guten Abend,” you respond. His smile is warm and his family looks at you kindly, though they have already noticed how out of place you look in your heavy dress, feathered hat and high heels. You ask them if you could use their fire for the evening and they agree brightly. 

You sit down, thanking them and the boy hands you a plate of Bratwursts and the girl offers you some German bread. You thank them again and eat, feeling quite hungry. As the sky grows darker, the family talks in their native tongue. You’ve forgotten most your German lessons, but still manage to pick up a few words. 

“Ich haben ein Fragen,” the woman says to you. You recognize the word Fragen: question. You nod in recognition. “Was machst du hier?” 

“What?” you ask, not understanding that line. 

She gestures your clothes and then the fire. She wants to know why you’re here. You’ve no idea how to translate your predicament into their language. The young girl tugs on your sleeve. 

“Ich kann etwas Englisch sprechen.” You nod.

“I am running away from my husband,” you say slowly enough that the girl can translate to her parents. “He is very rich but I am not happy with him.” 

“Bist du schon lange gelaufen? Bist du mit dem Boot hierher gekommen?” The girl looks at you.

“Have you been running long? Did you come here by boat?” 

You realize they must be confused by your accent. Although you’ve lived in America many years now, you still retain a decent amount of your British accent. 

“No, no I only just ran away. I came here on a train, but my stagecoach driver and servant will be looking for me and they know I took the train.” 

The parents nod, understanding now how you came to be at their fire. 

“You are welcome to stay with us tonight,” the girl translates for her mother. “We are headed for Valentine tomorrow and can drop you off there.” 

You thank them again and finish your meal. Not longer after, they show you a place under a canopy they’ve stretched over a spot of grass next to their wagon you can use. They’ve nothing to offer you except an old blanket. You take off only your shoes and hat and fall into an uncomfortable sleep. 

 **********************

In the morning, the family takes you to the small town of Valentine. There, you say your goodbyes and head into the general store where you trade in some jewels for money and buy some shirts and pairs of jeans. You’ve never worn pants before, but you figure the less you look like yourself, the easier you can hide. By this time surely, Stanley will have found a way to reach your husband and tell him of your disappearance. Leviticus may see you as nothing but property, but he will want you back, so you know he will begin a raging hunt. You desperately hope he never finds you as you hate to think what he’ll do to you if he does.

After buying clothes, provisions and a satchel to store things in, you head over to the stables and buy a tall cherry bay Thoroughbred named Willow. Only when the stablemaster comes out holding a heavy saddle do you realize another problem: you’ve never ridden with one leg on each side of the horse, only side saddle. Still, when you lead Willow out of the stables, you climb awkwardly into the stable and try your best to secure yourself in it, though it feels very foreign to you. You almost decide to buy a pistol from the gunsmith but realize that’s a foolish decision. You don’t know the first thing about guns and could very well end up shooting yourself. You decide it’s best to try and keep heading west, further from your home. 

As you head south and away from Valentine, only going at a walk since you’re unaccustomed to riding this way, Willow snorts and stomps her foot, coming to a stop. You try urging her to walk on, but she just snorts again. Looking on the ground, you see a rattlesnake on the path, coiled and rattling its tail at her. Willow suddenly rears up and throws you to the ground before darting off into the trees. The snake slithers off, but your shoulder hurts terribly from where it slammed into the ground. 

“You a’right, ma’am?” a voice asks. 

Looking behind you, you find the picture-perfect example of a cowboy sitting astride his horse. His dark gambler’s hat shades his eyes from the sun and his blue shirt is worn and dirt. He looks at you, his face tanned and dirty from days of being in the sun and the wild, his jaw stubbled with a short beard. You notice his blue eyes. 

“Yes, I’m alright,” you say, standing up and clutching your shoulder. “My horse was spooked by a snake.” 

“I saw,” he says, dismounting his horse. “You need help catchin’ her?” 

“Could you help?” you say, grateful he’s offering. “That would be lovely, sir.” 

He tips his hat and then runs off into the trees where Willow went. You hear him talking to her in a gentle voice. A moment later, he leads her out. You thank him and then try mounting up, but what was a difficult task before is even harder now that your shoulder’s hurt. 

“You need help, ma’am?” he asks again. 

You nod and with a wavering voice explain that you’re new to this. He huffs a small laugh. “New to ridin’ a horse, sounds like ya just came here from London or someplace. You sure you’re doin’ a’right?”

You realize he’s not asking about your physical being, but more about your situation. 

“To be honest, no sir. I’m… well, I come from a wealthy family but my husband died in a… a bad way and I had to run. Only I don’t know the first thing about being on my own.” You hope  he doesn’t hear the lie. 

“That much is clear,” he says, his hands on his hips. He looks rather attractive as he does and you blush and look away. He sighs heavily. “Well, sounds like you need help. Now I ain’t exactly clean in my own history, but I’m willin’ to offer you help until you get settled. Come on.” 

He helps you into your saddle and then leads you further down the road and into a large cluster of trees where a large camp is nestled. Over the next few hours, you’re forced to sit by the horses as the man who helped you discusses with two other men whether you should be allowed to stay. In the end, they agree you can with the warning that if you mention them to anyone, particularly lawmen or Pinkertons, they will not be forgiving. 

“Trust me,” you say to a tall man with a large black mustache and dark eyes. “I’ve no interest in speaking with lawmen. My husband will likely have them in his pockets, so they are just as much my enemy as they are yours.” 

The man nods and walks away, asking a middle-aged woman with a thick bun on her head to help you set yourself up.

*******************************

Over the next few weeks, you learn that the camp you’re living with is a gang of outlaws, led by Dutch Van der Linde. His second in command is Hosea Matthews and the man who brought you here, named Arthur Morgan, is his right hand man. 

Your introduction to the rest of the gang was not the smoothest as the matriarch, a woman named Susan Grimshaw, went into a right fit when she learned you have no domestic skills. “I never heard somethin’ so ridiculous in all my life!” she said. “Can’t even wash clothes!” 

The other girls were kind enough to teach you how to do the chores around camp. You knew how to sew at least, not because you ever had to repair your own clothing but because you’d learned as a child how to embroider and knit. Luckily, sewing up the gang’s clothing is similar work, though with little art. 

You like learning how to cook with a man named Simon Pearson. He’s quick to tell jokes, although he tells a lot of stories about his days with the navy and he only knows how to make a few things. You do somewhat miss having three-course meals three times a day, but you know you won’t starve here. 

Most of the people in camp are kind and curious about you, although you tell them nothing of your husband’s real identity. You’ve told them all he died and never mentioned his name. For some reason, you get the feeling that to let slip the fact that your husband is Leviticus would be a bad thing. Cornwall’s got a lot of business out this way and he’s made a lot of enemies. You simply tell the others that your husband and you moved down here from London a few years back but he’s always been an abusive, hateful bastard and because you’re in America, the land of opportunity, you finally had a chance to get away from your life after his death. The others scoff at you calling this place the land of opportunity, saying there’s little of that to go around for people like them. 

*******************************

You’ve become quite close to this gang that has quickly become your family over the last few weeks. Although most of them have their own sordid pasts, they’re good people. They have a sense of family you’ve never seen before, considering they come from a background your father would call “degenerate”. You’ve never seen people work so quickly and with such a sense of duty. Of course, that doesn’t mean they don’t have their problems with each other. Arguments do break out, but most of them seem to be for show and rarely end in physicality. 

Only a week after you’d shown up, Arthur and some of the others came back with a red-haired man named Sean. You instantly knew he was Irish the moment he spoke. Since you both came from across the pond, you became close friends. You would have liked to get to know a woman named Molly O’Shea better as she was also Irish and she clearly came from a privileged background, but she didn’t seem interested. 

The person who was most interested in you though was Arthur, the man who’d brought you here. Of course, you were extremely interested in him too and it didn’t take long for you to get feelings for him. He works the hardest out of all of them and he cares about everyone. You saw him bring Mary-Beth a fancy fountain pen one day after she’d mentioned she wanted one. During his rare breaks when he was in camp, he’d often come find you. He claimed he just wanted to make sure you were settling in fine, but you noticed he stuck around you more than the others. He asked a lot of questions about your past, what your childhood and marriage was like, why you left. You told him everything except who your husband was and the fact that he wasn’t really dead. 

When you mentioned you lived your entire life being waited upon, he told you it sounded awful. “How did you not feel like a prisoner?” he asked. You were caught off guard by the question. Before you’d run away, you never felt that way. Now that you’re out here though, completely responsible for yourself, you realize you might as well have been a prisoner. You feel slightly envious about the others, realizing that even though none of them (except perhaps Molly) grew from well-off families, they’re wealthier in something you missed out on in life. All of them have tradable skills that you’re just now learning. Not only that, none of them have to put on a mask, hide who they are. Karen’s not shy about her drinking habits. Tilly used to run with a vicious gang and sometimes she talks about what that was like. No one in camp has ever had to pretend to be someone else. Something you were never allowed to do. 

You sit now with the girls, reading aloud from a book Mary-Beth gave you. Although you often worked with them, they liked you to read aloud. Something about your accent, you suspected. Just as you’re reading a rather romantic scene from the almost sickeningly passionate story, Arthur walks over to your group, clearly wanting to see what’s going on. He has a habit of doing that, which you find endearing. You hide your smile and continue reading as he stops, his hand on his gunbelt. He smiles as he listens, his eyes soft. 

Just as he’s about to say something, John Marston walks over and punches his arm. “Come on, Arthur. Got a job for ya. We’re gonna steal some sheep but need to go to Valentine for something.” 

“Fine,” Arthur says gruffly. Not long after they leave, Dutch and Strauss head off too. 

An hour or so later, the four men come back looking sweaty and angry, Strauss’s leg is bleeding. You’re washing some plates by Pearson’s wagon and Hosea marches over to them. 

“Dutch, Dutch what happened?” 

Dutch dismounts his white horse. “Turns out old Leviticus Cornwall don’t take too kindly to being robbed.” You freeze when you hear the name, but Dutch doesn’t notice. “He came up and tried to kill us, wants us to stop robbing him. We’ll have to leave this place, we had to shoot half the town in order to escape.” 

You follow Dutch into his tent, staying a few steps behind as you listen to him and Hosea. They talk a little more about what led to them being shot at, but neither of them mention knowing Leviticus has a runaway wife. You breathe a sigh of relief. They don’t know, and if they do, they don’t know it’s you. 

******************************

After fleeing Horseshoe Overlook, Arthur and Dutch both agreed you needed to learn how to rob, ride a horse properly and shoot a gun. Arthur took it on himself to teach you those things and he was an incredible instructor: patient, knowledgeable but not arrogant. The more time you spent with him, the deeper your feelings got. A nagging suspicion settled in your gut that he liked you too. It was just the soft way he spoke to you, how his hands lingered on yours when he taught you how to shoot a shotgun. One time you slid right off Willow’s back and he came over to help you up, but his hands stayed on your arms too long. 

It didn’t take long for rumors to get out that you and Arthur were sweet on each other. Of course, you tried denying them, more to protect Arthur than yourself. No way could he want to be with you: a spoiled rich girl who didn’t even know how to sew a button on a shirt when he met you. He never treated you like a spoiled brat and he mentioned to you time and time again how sweet and honest you’ve been with everyone. 

One night after Arthur, Karen, Bill and Lenny robbed the bank in Valentine, Dutch demanded a party for their success as they brought back a lot of cash. Everyone drank and sang together, but it wasn’t long before Sean, Uncle and Lenny started needling Arthur for having a crush on you. He denied it again and again until John came up and joined the fun, stating how obvious it was with a list of examples of his behavior that proved he liked you. 

“I bet you ten dollars, Morgan,” John said, “that if you went over there and kissed her on the mouth right now, that girl would be blushing like crazy and wouldn’t even be mad. I know she likes  you.” 

“Shut your damn mouth, Marston,” Arthur retorted. That was until the other boys joined in on the bet, which climbed up to fifty dollars. All he had to do was kiss you in front of everyone right now. He’d had a lot of whiskey and his face was bright red, but when he looked at you sitting at the round table singing with Grimshaw, he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter. You looked so beautiful in the light of the lantern, your cheeks pink from your own drunken state. 

“Go get her, son,” Hosea said. Arthur looked at him and then got up, walking slowly over to you. He fidgeted with his hands, terrified but fueled by drink. When he got to your table, he stopped. 

“Y/N, I got somethin’ to say to ya,” he said. 

You smiled and stood up so he could address you. “Alright, Mr. Morgan. What is it?” 

He stammered for a bit, his face growing redder. He hid his eyes beneath his hat and his hands were shaking. God, he was cute when he was nervous. 

Without warning, he suddenly grabbed you and bent you slightly backwards, his lips planting on yours. Out of all the things Arthur could have done that night, that was certainly the last thing you expected. You almost pulled away, but his lips were warm and rough against your smooth skin. He smelled nice too, like pine and leather although you could taste the alcohol on his lips. Forgetting that you had an audience, your hand wove up behind his neck, pulling him closer. Your chest grew warm and a light feeling overcame you, making you kiss him back. 

Someone whistled at you and Arthur, followed by several people laughing. That brought you back down to the present and Arthur pulled away from you and then straightened you up. His face was horribly red, but he was smiling. “Sorry, Y/N,” he said. “I hope I didn’t frighten ya.” 

“Maybe a little, but I liked it,” you said, your hand still on his chest. You glanced at the onlookers as they continued to laugh and tease you. You bit your lip and looked up at Arthur. “What say you we go somewhere more private and try that kiss again?” 

He quickly grabbed your hand and led you off into the trees and then onto a moon-bathed beach by the lake. There, you two ended up doing much more than kissing, although that’s how it started. Encouraged by your drunken states, you were the one who got carried away and stripped out of your clothes in order to swim in the lake to relieve the heat of the air and your body. Arthur followed soon after, but you remember the way he watched you swim. Not long after, you ended up lying with him on the beach, his body glowing silver under the moon. You climbed onto him just to kiss him, but as you were naked and alone, it didn’t take much to end up going further. 

Although the only man you’d slept with before had been Leviticus, it was never on your terms and he only did things with you for a moment before he reached his satisfaction and was done with you. However, Arthur was so different. He touched you in just the right places, his rough hands gliding along your naked back and hips. He felt amazing inside of you as well, almost as though your bodies were molded for the other’s. He’d gotten you to release first then followed shortly after. You never knew sex could be so passionate and emotional, but Arthur made you feel and think things you’d never experienced before. 

The morning after had been a bit awkward when the two of you woke up naked on the beach, still wrapped around one another. You had a pounding headache and knew Arthur did too. When you remembered what you’d done together, you both panicked a moment. Had you really slept with Arthur the same night you found out he loved you back? The two of you dressed but stayed on the beach and talked things out. You came to the decision that what had happened had felt right and you wanted to stay together. After that, you were very open with your relationship to Arthur with the rest of the gang. 

That all happened weeks ago, and you’ve grown to love him more than you thought possible. You’d dreamed of finding a man to love as a child, but had no idea it felt like this. Even as a child, the men you’d imagined you’d love couldn’t hold a candle to Arthur. He’s thoughtful and secretly sensitive, but protective and strong. You remember the way he held you when Sean died, almost crushing you as you sobbed into his chest. Another time in Saint Denis, a man on the street had said something rather rude about you and Arthur punched him in the jaw. “You don’t get to say shit about my girl, ya hear?” he roared as the man fled. You couldn’t dream of a more perfect man to love than Arthur Morgan. 

You were crushed when Hosea and Lenny died and most of the gangs’ men, including Arthur, ended up on a boat and stranded on Guarma. You never thought you’d miss anyone so much, but during the couple of weeks that he was gone, you felt physical pain in his absence. You spent many nights lying on his cot clutching one of his shirts, willing his scent to stay and offer you some level of comfort. When he returned, it was like you could breathe again. Shortly afterwards though, the Pinkertons forced you and the gang to flee Lakay and into Beaver Hollow, an old Murphree hideout. 

That’s where you are now. While things with the gang have always had rough patches, now they’re worse than ever. People fight constantly and Dutch seems to be losing his mind. He’s changed from the intelligent, cunning but caring man into someone who’s still intelligent and cunning but enjoys killing. It doesn’t help that Micah constantly hisses into his ear. 

Over the past few months of travelling with the gang, you’ve heard relatively little from and about your husband. Somehow you’ve managed to avoid the patrols he’s likely sent out to look for you and you only saw your name show up once in an article in the Saint Denis paper about your disappearance. However, with tensions in the camp running higher than ever and Dutch acting so mad, you’re beginning to fear things are about to come to a head with you at the center. 

Micah strolls into camp, holding a newspaper under his arm and followed by Bill. They’ve just come from Annesburg, having scouted there for possible leads on scores. You’re standing at Pearson’s wagon, preparing tonight’s stew. Micah gives you a knowing and dark smile that you don’t like as he heads to Dutch’s wagon. A bad feeling comes into your stomach and you follow behind him a few steps. 

“Dutch, I just found somethin’ out. Somethin’ that could be real useful. Somethin’ with ol’ Cornwall,” Micah simpers at him. 

Dutch lowers his cigar and looks at Micah expectantly. Micah rubs his hands together. 

“Did you know ol’ Cornwall’s married and his little wife ran away right after we robbed his train up in Ambarino?” 

“How is this any use to us?” Arthur demands, having been attracted by the name Cornwall. “Not like we’re gonna find her.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, cowpoke. Turns out we already found her and she’s right there.” Micah spins and points right at you. Everyone in camp stops and stares at you as your blood runs cold. 

“Shut up, Micah,” Arthur growls, walking up to your side to protect you. “Y/N’s husband’s dead.” 

“Or is he?” Micah retorts. He flings the newspaper at Arthur. “Read it and weep, Morgan.” 

Arthur furrows his brow but opens the newspaper. “N-no, don’t!” you plead, but too late. There’s a black and white photograph of you standing arm in arm with Leviticus Cornwall, your unsmiling faces staring up at Arthur. He reads the first bit of the article aloud. 

“Leviticus Cornwall, executive of Cornwall Kerosene and Tar, Cornwall Rails blah blah blah has released a new statement regarding the disappearance of his wife. Back in May, Mr. Cornwall’s train was robbed in Ambarino by the notorious Van der Linde gang. In order to investigate the robbery, Mr. Cornwall and his wife Y/N came down from their home in Pennsylvania. Mr. Cornwall last saw his wife in Annesburg when she left to stay in his residence in New Hanover. It was reported that she did not arrive at the home but her stage driver and chauffeur, Mr. Stanley Wilcox, claimed she was missing shortly after arriving at Emerald Ranch. It was unknown then if they had been involved in her disappearance or if she’d been kidnapped by other means.”

“Earlier this month, a citizen of Saint Denis stated he’d seen Mrs. Cornwall in the city. ‘I’d just visited the Cornwall manor a week previously on business with my brother,’ Mr. Henry Larson reports. ‘I saw a painting in a hallway of Mr. Cornwall and his wife Y/N. I recognized her immediately. She was dressed like a farm girl but it was definitely her.’”

“A few days after this incident was reported, authorities had reached Mr. Cornwall about his wife’s appearance, but before he could arrive, the Saint Denis Massacre occurred in which the previously mentioned Van der Linde gang attempted to rob the city’s bank and a shootout between them, the city’s law enforcement and the Pinkerton Detective Agency occurred. The gang of outlaws has since fled the area, but rumors speculate that Mrs. Cornwall is among them. If anyone holds any information towards her whereabouts, they are greatly urged to come forward. Mr. Cornwall has offered a considerable $20,000 to anyone who can find his wife and return her safely.” 

Arthur lowers the paper, his eyes dark. Your hands are trembling. The cat’s out of the bag now and you’re in big trouble. Micah sniggers as Arthur looks at you, his eyes tell you the betrayal and pain he feels. 

“You’re Y/N Cornwall,” he says as a tear slides down your cheek. 

“Only on paper,” you say. “I didn’t know how to tell you.” 

“Oh because it was so hard to say ‘hello, I’m Y/N Cornwall, you just robbed my husband but do you mind if I run with you fellas a while’ when you first arrived?” Micah taunts. Dutch’s eyes are narrowed slightly, the way they do when he’s got a plan coming together. 

You look around at everyone staring at you in shock. Some look like they have a hard time believing it, Mary-Beth and John for example, while others look angry and hurt. Arthur is among them. He drops the newspaper and takes a step back from you.

“All this time,” he says quietly. “All this time and you never mentioned once you’re his goddamn wife!” 

Another tear falls. “I’m sorry, Arthur. Everyone, I’m sorry. But how was I supposed to tell you the truth? You robbed my husband, he tried to kill you. Not only that, I was never married to him by choice. My parents basically sold me to him and he’s never made me happy. Maybe… maybe I was just happy to finally be around people who didn’t associate me with him for once.” 

You clasp your hands in front of you, willing any of them to understand. Dutch walks slowly towards you, his jaw set. Micah follows behind, looking excited.

“You’re Y/N Cornwall. The man who has been hunting us for months. The man who holds the ticket to our freedom from this cesspit of a country. I think I have a new plan.” 

His eyes narrow, glittering. You suddenly realize what he’s thinking. 

“Dutch, please don’t take me to him. I’m begging you. If he finds me again, he’ll kill me. I don’t even know if he’ll pay you for me. Dutch, he hates you and your boys more than anything, you were the only ones stupid enough to rob him. I know for a fact he’s paying the Pinkertons to hunt you down.” 

“How do you know this?” John asks, standing next to Arthur.

“Because I know Leviticus better than any of you,” you say. “He obviously figured out pretty quickly that the gang from Blackwater were the same ones to rob him. He also must have found out the Pinkertons were looking for you, so I’ve no doubt he contacted them and started putting money into their pockets.” 

“Or you’re the rat we’ve been looking for,” Micah sneers. “Maybe you’re the one telling the Pinkertons our every move. Think about it, Dutch. All our problems with them started right after we took her in. She’s been lying to us from the start.” 

You don’t know what to say in your defense. Since you have lied to them from the start about your true past, there’s nothing you can do to say you aren’t lying to them now.

“Dutch, please,” you whisper, your lower lip trembling. 

He sighs and stares hard at you. “Tie her up.” 

Before you can move, two pairs of hands grip you tight and throw you down, your hands and feet being tied up. People are yelling, you hear Sadie screech and Arthur roar. You start trying to look around to ask someone for help, but a black cloth is tied around your head, covering your eyes. Someone shoves another cloth into your mouth, preventing you from speaking. You can still hear though. 

“Dutch!” Arthur roars. “Let’s talk about this! We can’t take her to Cornwall! Like she said, ain’t no guarantee he’d pay us after all the problems we given him.” 

You feel yourself thrown over a horse’s back as Dutch says, “This is the right move, Arthur. I don’t like it, but she’s used us and this is our best shot at getting out of here. Heyaw!” 

The horse beneath you suddenly begins to run and you can hear the pounding of other horses. Arthur still yells at Dutch, trying to make him think logically, but Dutch ignores him. 

After a while of heavy riding in which you feel like all your ribs and your stomach have been heavily bruised from the horse’s movements, they stop. You can smell the thick coal dust and the smell of polluted water. Someone’s hands grab you and you’re set on your feet, the ropes cut. The bandana and gag are removed and you see you’re standing on the pier of Annesburg, a boat docked. The name of it is The Soaring Emily. Leviticus named it that after his first wife. 

“Cornwall!” Dutch hollers, keeping a painfully tight hold on your arm. “Cornwall! Get out here! My friends and I have a proposal for you!” 

Looking behind you and Dutch, you spot Bill, Micah, John and Arthur. Arthur looks at you, pain in his eyes. He doesn’t want to do this, but nothing can stop Dutch in his roll. 

A door on the ship’s deck opens and Leviticus Cornwall steps out, flanked by a group of men, all holding rifles. His eyes glare at you and then to Dutch.

“My friend,” Dutch says. “I heard tell that your lovely wife got away from your clutches. Well, just so happens, she’s been stowing away with me and my boys for the last few weeks. Rumor says you’re wanting her back, so we’re here to make a deal. You give me and my boys that $20,000 and a boat. You get your wife back and we’ll stop robbing from you. In fact, you’ll never hear from us again.” 

Leviticus just laughs. “Mr. Van der Linde, I admire your determination and your daring, but if you think I will give you a single penny, then you’re sorely mistaken.” 

“How about now?” Dutch responds, pulling out his pistol and aiming it at your temple. He pulls the back the hammer, your heart pounding in your ears as more tears fall down your cheeks. Dutch wouldn’t kill you, would he? After all the time you spent in his camp, helping feed the others and bring in money, he’s just going to kill you. Something tells you he will if he doesn’t get his way. 

“Dutch,” Arthur hisses a warning behind him. He’s ignored.

“Now Mr. Cornwall, I know what it’s like to see the woman you love die by the hands of your greatest enemy. Now while I doubt poor Y/N here is the love of your life, you obviously value her in some way. Which would you rather keep? Her life or your money?” 

Cornwall glares back at him, his teeth bared. “I’m a businessman, Mr. Van der Linde. Business doesn’t care for feelings or love. Shoot her if you must, but I will not give you anything!” 

Your stomach drops as you realize that this is it. Dutch is just crazy enough that he won’t care about shooting a member of his own gang. You’re not surprised at all that Leviticus is willing to let you die. To him, you’re replaceable, a mere object. Still you thought you mattered to the others, to Arthur. 

Before anyone can do anything to save you from Dutch’s grip, Dutch nods. “You sure? Fine, I prefer it this way.” He suddenly swings the gun forward and shoots Cornwall, the bullet piercing his chest. He pushes you down as Cornwall’s men begin firing, the others shooting back. The gang begins to run as more men come out from the boat, leaving you where you’ve fallen. You start to scream, begging for help, but it seems no one can hear you amidst the gunfire. 

Suddenly a pair of hands grabs your arms and cuts the length of rope binding them, then they lift you up. “Come on, sweetheart,” Arthur’s rough voice says as you stand. 

You’re shaking hard and you want nothing more than to throw your arms around him, but now isn’t the time. Sharp gunshots litter the air, echoing off the buildings. Arthur grabs your hand and runs north on the train tracks. When you reach a bridge going over a sharp dip in the land, a path running through it, he stops. 

“You go, darlin’,” he says, breathing hard. “Go, don’t come back to Beaver Hollow. It ain’t safe for you there.” 

“Arthur, I’m sorry,” you say, thinking he’s pushing you away because he’s mad. 

“Just go, darlin’. I’ll come find you when I can. But you can’t come back, ya hear? You do and you’re dead.” Before you can say anything else, he’s running back down the bridge towards Annesburg to rejoin the gang. You know he can’t leave of course. Not now anyways. Dutch and the others still depend on him too much. 

You flee from Annesburg, having no idea where you’ll go or what you’ll do. Your horse is back at Beaver Hollow, but luckily all your money and the few pieces of jewelry you stole from Leviticus are in your satchel. You run north towards Willard’s Rest and then stop by the wide river where you finally break down. The past few weeks come rushing through you, the good and the bad. You know since Guarma, Dutch has gone crazy but you never thought he’d turn on you like that. Not when he’s spouted for weeks about having loyalty and faith to anyone who would listen. Your life has come crashing down around you so swiftly, you aren’t sure how to process it. 

You stay here for a few hours, going between sobbing, missing the gang (especially Arthur) and feeling numb. As the sun begins to set, you look down the path and see Arthur riding up, your horse in tow. When you see him, you begin to cry again. You don’t run to him though, knowing how hurt he must be. 

He dismounts and walks over to you, pulling you into a tight hug which surprises you. “Arthur, I’m so sorry,” you wail into his shirt. “I never meant to hurt you.” 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he says into your hair. “I know why ya lied. Hell, I probably would’ve too. But everything else you said, was it true?” 

“Everything is. The way I grew up, how I was sold to him. I promise his name and the fact that he wasn’t dead at the time was the only parts I hid.” 

He sighs and pulls away. “Well, I guess one of your lies came true today though. Darlin’, I’m so sorry.” 

Over the next few hours, you and he discuss what will happen now. He comes to the decision he won’t leave the gang, he can’t. He knows now that there’s no saving Dutch, but maybe he can help the others get out. You, on the other hand, would be handed a death sentence if you stepped foot into the camp. He asks what you want to do and you admit that you just want to live somewhere alone with him and have a quiet life, begin a family with him. He blushes but agrees that’s what he wants to. 

The next day, he takes you to a small cottage he’s seen on the borders of New Hanover and Ambarino, not far from the river. It’s secluded and well hidden in the trees. You have plenty of money to set your things in order, so you’ll be well off here. It’s also far enough from the gang that they won’t find you but it’s not far enough for him to not come visit you. 

Over the next couple of weeks, he visits every couple of days. You manage to take care of yourself quite well having learned through him how to hunt and skin animals. You bought some materials and seeds from the store in Valentine and are determined to start a garden, although you’ve never taken care of plants before. It’s a lot harder than you thought, but you manage to get a few plants sprouting. 

When Arthur visits, he tells you of the things he and the gang has done, how much crazier Dutch gets. Arthur himself is growing angry and mistrustful of him, but he’s determined to help the others escape with their lives. Sometimes you read about the gang’s activities in the paper in Valentine, like Bacchus Bridge being blown up, Colm O’Driscoll’s hanging in Saint Denis followed by a deadly shootout, tensions growing between the Wapiti and the army. 

One night Arthur shows up at your little cabin late into the night. He’s exhausted and there’s blood on his hands. “I’m done, darlin’,” he says when you open the door. “I ain’t ever goin’ back there. I’ve wasted my life livin’ the preachings of a crazy man.”

“What happened?” 

Arthur explains how the son of the Wapiti chief went and did a raid on Cornwall’s oilfield in order to retaliate for them forcing his people off their land. You know Arthur has had many dealings with them, trying to help them in their struggles against the army. Arthur then describes how, after getting bonds from the foreman’s office, he got knocked down by a burst pipe. An officer pinned him to the floor and nearly overpowered him. Dutch had seen it all and even had the chance to kill the man, but Arthur watched him walk away, sealing his fate.  

“If Eagle Flies hadn’t come, I’d be dead. Then that asshole Colonel Favors shot him. He’s dead now, and all because Dutch didn’t care if I died. When I accused him of such, he lied in front of everyone and said he’d done no such thing. I’m done, darlin’. I’m done fightin’ his battles for him just so he can leave me to die. I wanna start a new life with you properly now.” 

“Arthur,” you say, cupping his cheek. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

[smashskate]

Jackie Jett - For @thesimsters-stories​‘s Love Island

“Well damn! I’m Jackie, and I can control the weather!”

Name: Jackie Jett

Age: 26

Location: Del Sol Valley

Occupation: Weather Reporter

Traits: Non-Committal, Ambitious, Outgoing

Aspiration: World-Famous Celebrity

Skills:

Charisma: 8

Wisdom: 6

Dancing: 4

Acting: 4

Bio: 

Introducing Jacqueline “Jackie” Jett, the semi-famous Weather Reporter on the Del Sol Valley Network, Channel 7. With hair about as big as her ego, Jackie is known for being loud, proud, and... another word that ends in -oud. Give us a bit to think of one, and we’ll get back to you. 

Jackie grew up in the suburbs of Del Sol Valley, with her parents and two older brothers. She excelled in school, graduating Valedictorian of her class and getting accepted into Foxbury Institute’s Specialized Biology program. It’s safe to say that years of success definitely boosted her opinion of herself, which was struck down a few notches when the job market tightened up as soon as she graduated. Jobs in her field were hard to come by, and Jackie was feeling down on her luck. One day while shopping with her bffs, she was approached by a man who she assumed to be a model scout. It turned out to be Victor Price, one of the producers at DSVN, who offered her a spot as their new weather reporter. With the show’s viewer count draining as online news becomes the new craze, Jackie’s appearance is possibly the only thing holding the studio together at this point, and she knows it.

While Jackie does have some brains on her, her most admirable trait are her wits. She’s real cunning, and knows how to play the game to come out on top. Unlike some of the other applicants, long-term romance isn’t really Jackie’s thing. She’s much more inclined to one night stands and hookups, and anyone who lasts longer gets their number deleted from her phone. Jackie claims to love this lifestyle, much to her cuffed friend’s dismay. While they think she’s crazy for not wanting to get boo’d up, she thinks the idea of being tied down is absolutely sickening. So why would she apply for a show like Love Island, where the only goal is to find true (or true in terms of reality television) love? (Reason number 1 will shock you!)

Questions:

Briefly describe yourself and your life.

“If you insist, LOL! Alright, my name’s Jackie Jett and I’m 26 years old. If I look familiar, it’s probably because you’ve seen me on DSVN, during the 8am time slot, 9 on weekends. Shameless plug, I’m the hottest weather girl in the hottest city in the west! Sure, the job’s a bore at times and I really only got hired for my looks and not my now-useless biology degree, but it pays well and I get a lot of time off to do the things I actually enjoy! I’m not actually as dumb as I come off to our viewers. I’m college educated! Although, it doesn’t really matter much at the moment, so I figured why not have fun where I am now? Also yes, I’m a natural redhead. Anyone that tells you different is a disgusting liar.”

Any Hobbies?

“My hobbies pretty much only consist of me going out and getting drunk. But it’s not that bad! I’ve always been a party girl, since high school even. There’s nothing more fun than going to a nightclub and letting your inhibitions run wild for a few hours! And if I can witness some celeb drama happen live before I hear about it at the studio the next morning, that's always a plus.”

How long have you been single?

“Well, that depends on what you define a relationship as, doesn't it? If you’re talking about any kind of romance, than I’m technically never single. I’m just never with the same person! If you define it as a romantic, long term relationship, then not since freshman year of college. And I’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much. I love to have my options open.”

Why did your last relationship end?

“Again, if we’re talking longer term, he wanted to get more serious and I realized that it just wasn’t what I was looking for. I was 19 and I still wanted to experience so much before getting cuffed. He really didn't take it well, so kinda safe to say I dodged a bullet on that one.”

What are you looking for in a relationship?

“If I had to be in one? I would want the other person to know and respect that I’m not going to be tied down for the rest of time. The whole “open relationship” thing is a standard I like to set with my long term hookups, and I would like that to apply here as well. Also, they should be hot. I’ve been with every type of guy you can think of, but I’ve got standards. I like em sexy, who can blame me? I promise, if I get on the show I’ll try to restrain myself. Keyword try. Also generally don't be a dick. Just because I’ve been with a lot of men doesn't mean I’m less deserving of respect. Any guy that thinks differently goes out the door, sorry not sorry. Oh, did you know that I have Demi Lovato’s phone number? We’re, like, basically besties.”

What are you not looking for in a relationship?

“By this point in the interview I think it’s pretty obvious the one thing I’m super not looking for, LOL! But other than that, I’m open to a lot! Just depends on who’s asking.” *winks* “I’m really not territorial, but if any of the women try to shame me for my lifestyle, I’m not afraid to get my claws out. Women are supposed to support women, I’m not tolerating any bullshit.”

Something else we should know about you?

“Okay, I guess this is where I come clean. Well, to the producers at least. So, basically, for the last few months, our shows ratings and viewership have been dropping. Our analytics team looked into it, and we’re pretty sure it’s because of that Simstagram News update. Instead of watching the actual news, people are going there because it’s quicker and easier to get info. So one day, Victor comes up to me and is all like “I’ve got an idea and I need your help”, which is already fishy because that’s basically code for “I need to use your looks to get the show traction”. So I go into his office and he brings up the Love Island Application. And, like, at first I’m hesitant because I work in showbiz, right? I know how reality tv stars get perceived by the public. But then I realized that if the studio tanks, I’ll no longer have a job, which like, major bummer. So I say yes!

In the end, I’m here to stir up drama and look cute on camera, all as bait for people to come and watch live news. Of course, I get the added benefit of a longer segment on the show, and a boost in Simstagram followers! So it’s really a win-win! Honestly, I probably would have applied anyway, if I had seen the casting call before Victor showed it to me. A bunch of hot guys, hookups, and more drama than a Kardashian-Jenner Simstagram comment section? That’s basically my dream life! And hey, who knows? Maybe I’ll finally get a tan!”

Some fun facts:

Please, make more That 70′s Show references when you meet her. She’s never heard them before. You’re so original, oh my gosh.

She’s allergic to shrimp. Makes for a downer at fancy parties.

She doesn’t tan, just burns. Curse her Irish heritage.

She played volleyball in college. She was pretty good at it, but almost broke her nose, which cause her to quit out of fear of getting a nose job.

She’s definitely a B list celebrity. No, don’t look it up. The internet is full of misinformation. You can’t trust anything.

She watched Mr.Robot and now has tape over her webcam. Sincerest apologies to her FBI agent. He/She’s missing a lot.

She’s a secret drama nerd. She can’t sing for the life of her, but she did the occasional play when she was younger.

Although her brothers know she can make her own decisions, they’re still super protective. They’re like 6ft+ guard dogs that Jackie sicks on any man that harms her.

She's got a tattoo of a ladybug. She won't tell you where, you’ll just have to find out for yourself ;)

Despite her complaining, her and Victor are pretty close. They have that sibling type bond. Only if one sibling was able to fire the other.

[harbingham]

                   Harry took one look at the survey && rolled his eyes. What a waste of fucking time. As if they were all going to BOND because a survey supposedly confirmed they could be  f r i e n d s  . Or at the very least good roommates ?? Whatever. Harry quickly wrote his name, crossing out the rest of the questions with EASE. Besides, they knew who he was already.

          Instead, cursive letters inked the paper — If you put me with someone annoying, I’ll make sure the trip is absolute hell. Ending the sentence with a thick period, annoyance festering as it usually did with life’s POINTLESS trifles.

                    The usual smug smirk dipped over his lips, carelessly turning the questionnaire in without a second thought.

so yeahhh, because my son is the way he is ... i filled it out for him bless up. why do i love harry bingham when i fucking hate him ?? idk fam, idk.

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Harold Theodore Bingham PRONUNCIATION: H EH - r uh l d   th EE - uh - d aw r    b IH  ng-uh m   MEANING: estate ruler  /  army leader  REASONING: Harold was his great-grandfather’s name, while Theodore is is father’s name that’s been passed down for quite a while as either a first/middle kinda deal NICKNAME(S): Harry, Har ( though he doesn't like it  ) Bingham, Pretty Boy PREFERRED NAME(S): Harry, just Harry unless you want a punch or a mean remark bless BIRTH DATE: April 13th, 2001 AGE: 18 ZODIAC: Aries !! GENDER: Male PRONOUNS: He/Him ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteroromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual NATIONALITY: American ETHNICITY: wonder bread

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: West Ham, CT HOMETOWN: West Ham, CT SOCIAL CLASS: Upper/Close to the 1% FATHER: Theodore Bingham † MOTHER: Karen Bingham SIBLING(S): Stacy Bingham ( 12 ) BIRTH ORDER: Harry, Stacy PET(S): In the Bingham household ?? Never. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: He’s surrounded by family, they usually always have at least two reunions a year. However he’s never felt close to them ?? So he’d never list their names here really. He’s only somewhat close to his immediate family. Though, he was close to his nanny growing up if that counts bless PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: it’s a list of like ... relatively short lasting relationships, hookups, && one night stands, until his most recent, kelly, which is probably his longest lasting one ?? ARRESTS?: Technically, on record, none :). He’s definitely been caught like, trespassing, underage drinking, && drunk driving lbh ... but yeah, no record. i hate him. PRISON TIME?: N/A

OCCUPATION & INCOME

SOURCE OF INCOME: intern at parent’s company  /  his parents CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: he doesn’t really like it tbh, but it’s done his family well so after college he definitely plans to continue the legacy && make if flourish even more. PAST JOB(S): n/a SPENDING HABITS: *throws money in trash can* MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: the gold ring with the bingham family insignia his father gave him when he turned 13 ( made him feel like he finally belonged you feel )  though he’d tell you it’s everything he owns ... i hate him

SKILLS & ABILITIES

TALENTS: bringing people together ( or apart ), lightening the mood ( or you know, fucking it up too ), banter, racing, fixing cars SHORTCOMINGS: oh honey — saying shit he doesn’t mean, his own arrogance, addictive personality, emotional invulnerability, aloof nature, shall i continue ?? LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: English, French, Italian DRIVE?: Hell yeah JUMP-STAR A CAR?: Yes CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: Yes, but he’d rather pay someone to do it before ever doing it himself RIDE A BICYCLE?: nope catch me crying SWIM?: Yes PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: Does learning the recorder in 3rd grade count ?? PLAY CHESS?: Yes BRAID HAIR?: Yes ( Stacy made him learn since he was the only one home most of the time ) TIE A TIE?: Yes, his father practically taught him that in the womb. PICK A LOCK?: nah. he’s more into the jump the fence, break some glass, make a fucking scene, kinda trespassing

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: Alex Fitzalan EYE COLOR: dark brown, specks of gold in natural light HAIR COLOR: Chestnut Brown HAIR TYPE/STYLE: Curly && wavy, his hair texture kinda varies by each strand unless he properly styles it ... which he does when feeling okay GLASSES/CONTACTS?: No, but he definitely likes the aesthetic of glasses sometimes. Like bet money on his ivy interviews he wore glasses ... did i mention i hate harry bingham ?? DOMINANT HAND: Right HEIGHT: 5′10″ WEIGHT: 140/150ish lbs ??? BUILD: Slender Muscular EXERCISE HABITS: it’s rather irregular and depends heavily on his mood. if he’s in a good/okay mood then a few times a week. otherwise it’s hard to do much of anything, let alone work out you know. SKIN TONE: light with pink/tan undertones TATTOOS: none PIERCINGS: none MARKS/SCARS: small dark birth mark near his right, outer ankle. shoulders/back && cheeks tend to get rather freckly in the summer && he hates it. some random cuts && bruises from blacked out drunk/high escapades, the occasional hickey bye. NOTABLE FEATURES: dimples when he actually smiles, white af teeth, the hair™ USUAL EXPRESSION: either completely unamused or smirking tbh CLOTHING STYLE: designer, preppy — think polos, ironed pants, or cuffed skinny jeans, all paired with some boat shoes. sometimes when he’s not feeling so great he’ll wear a plain tee/hoodie JEWELRY: gold pinky ring ( mentioned above ), apple watch on occasion ALLERGIES: long haired cats BODY TEMPERATURE: runs hot 😏 DIET: no such thing, boy’s metabolism is fast, the lucky son of a bitch. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: N/A

PSYCHOLOGY

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral TEMPERAMENT: Choleric  /  Melancholic ELEMENT: Fire MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: Anxiety, Depression, Toxic Masculinity 👀 SOCIABILITY: Moody™, but very social. Popular™. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: um ... he tries ?? it’s not good though, nope. PHOBIA(S): autophobia ( fear of being alone ),  atychiphobia ( fear of failure ) ADDICTION(S): coffee, opiods, alcohol, etc DRUG USE: yes please ALCOHOL USE: yes please PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: if provoked yes, or if he feels the need to protect/stand against something.

MANNERISMS

QUIRKS: easily annoyed, rolls his eyes a lot, has a comeback for almost everything ( even if it’s just a fuck you ) HOBBIES: cars, racing, sailing ( learned from his dad ),  HABITS: drinking, swearing, pills, drinks coffee every morning NERVOUS TICKS: furrowed brows, pacing/unable to stand still, hand twitching, squinting eyes DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: Money, Perfectionism, doing the Bingham name justice FEARS: Being forgotten, Isolation, Losing the rest of his family/the few he cares about, Death, Fatal Illness POSITIVE TRAITS: Charming, Adventurous, Witty, Ambitious, Assertive, Protective NEGATIVE TRAITS: Moody, Enigmatic, Cocky, Prideful, Destructive, Sarcastic, Stubborn, Impatient SENSE OF HUMOR: sarcastic, dark DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: he fucking literally fucking says fuck every fucking other fucking word :D CATCHPHRASE(S): fuck you cassandra, fuck off, fuck you, fuck me, fuck that, we’re playing fugitive tonight

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: Racing  /  Sailing ANIMAL: Otters BEVERAGE: any && all alcohol™ ... or secretly strawberry hi-c don’t @ him. BOOK: never let me go by kazuo ishiguro CELEBRITY: Margot Robbie COLOR: Navy Blue && Dark Gray DESIGNER: Balenciaga && Ralph Lauren FOOD: loaded fries FLOWER: blue stars GEM: Sapphire/Diamond HOLIDAY: halloween MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: he has a lot of favorite cars, but his black maserati ( aka the fugitive car ) is probably his favorite. he also likes helicopters MOVIE: Fight Club, The Wolf on Wall Street, The Breakfast Club MUSICAL ARTIST: blackbear, Drake are two of his go-tos, though the list is long QUOTE/SAYING: “Just do it.” boy bye SCENERY: nothing like overlooking a long wooden dock into a bright blue lake surrounded by trees  SCENT: cedar, sandalwood — anything kinda woody/musky ?? bless. SPORT: golf SPORTS TEAM: his father always rooted for the yankees, so he roots for the yankees TELEVISION SHOW: Mad Men WEATHER: cloudy with just a bit of sun peaking through, bright blue sky — not too hot, not too cold. VACATION DESTINATION: anywhere near a body of water, though he’s particularly fond of lake como in italy cause there’s a bit of everything ?? mountains, the lake, beautiful architecture, etc :’)

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: living that ‘american dream’ baby GREATEST FEAR: peaking in high school, being forgotten/not wanted (yet you push people away boii water u doing ?!), being vulnerable ... again there’s a long fucking list MOST AT EASE WHEN: in a fast car, living that reckless™ lifestyle LEAST AT EASE WHEN: realizing what a dumbass he is && having to apologize for it BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: getting into brown && columbia off some actual merit && not just money wow BIGGEST REGRET: not really being there for his dad near the end bc that would mean being vulnerable && saying goodbye coming on this fucking trip MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: losing the student body president position to cassandra BIGGEST SECRET: which one you want honey ?? TOP PRIORITIES: for everything to stay the same  /  go back to the way it was  :) :( :) :(

[cheap-space-9]

SUPERHERO SUNDAY #1

(Pictured: "Captain Time" logo, original design, final designs and headshots [with and without "time arrows" which appear on his chest while travelling through spacetime.])

General Information:

NAME: Andrew Jason Whitcomb

ALIAS: Captain Time

AGE: 23

POWERS AND ABILITIES: Super-Speed, Enhanced Strength & Agility, Future Vision, Spacetime Travel

WEAKNESSES: Can Only Access Said Powers when Wearing the Suit, Must Consume Many Calories when in the Suit to Not Pass Out, Must Wait One Hour after Spacetime Travelling Before Doing So Again

PLACE OF ORIGIN: Dentonview, Wisconsin

Backstory:

Andrew Jason Whitcomb was once a young man from an upper middle class family who loved comic book superheroes as much he loved his (secret) boyfriend River. When his parents found out about the relationship, they kicked Andrew out for his "alternative lifestyle".

Three years later, Andrew still loves superheroes and River, but is stuck in a bad apartment and a job he hates. Money's an issue and worse of all, River just broke up with him. He decides to grab a box of donuts and is walking back home when suddenly a man in a black suit appears out of nowhere and crashes into Andrew, spilling the sugary sweets. Enraged, Andrew socks the gent in the face which sends a golden ring off the man's finger. Andrew curiously puts the ring on, admiring the hourglass sculpted on it. He suddenly hears an ominous voice saying that a stranger has taken the ring and is being sent to its return time. Andrew begins to feel nauseous, blacking out as he feels himself zooming off to some unseen place...

Andrew wakes up in a building filled with technology and is being scanned by a large machine. A woman explains to him that he is in the future, in the far-off year of 2216 and that she and the mysterious man Andrew stumbled upon was a member of their organisation, the F.O.R.C.E. (Fighters for Overseeing and Rewriting Certain Events), a spacetime police force that makes sure the Earth's timeline stays intact and beneficial towards humanity. Since the F.O.R.C.E doesn't want any of this information getting into the wrong hands, the woman plans to mindwipe Andrew and send him back to the past. However, before she can do so, the machine scanning Andrew states that in his future, he becomes one of the F.O.R.C.E.'s greatest agents. The organization trains Andrew in everything from history to hand-to-hand combat.

Before he is sent back home, Andrew is given his own Hourglass Ring which can create Andrew a suit of his own imagination. When wearing the suit, he is bestowed with the powers of super speed, enhanced strength and agility, the ability to see certain "Bad Futures" (he calls it his "Future-Sense"), and the ability to travel through spacetime to fix said Futures.

Denying the black suit-and-tie combo of many F.O.R.C.E. agents, he decides to don a colorful suit akin to comic book speedsters and adopts the alias CAPTAIN TIME. He becomes a beacon of hope to people in Dentonview, earning the moniker of "The Spacetime Speedster of Wisconsin".

Inspiration:

My favorite superhero team (aside from the X-Men) are the Great Lakes Avengers. I grew up in the Midwest (Wisconsin for seven years, Michigan up to now) and LOVE Midwestern representation! So I decided to create my own Midwestern superhero team! I started by making a semi-self-based OC that would be unconventional: he didn't come from New York, he didn't have short Hollywood hair, he wasn't 100% muscle, and he wasn't straight.

So I made him a Wisconsinite, gave him my two most-desired powers (I love the idea of super speed and am OBSESSED with time travel), made him gay, and based him off of Reverse-Flash (a speedster who could travel through time and look snazzy in yellow) and Spider-Man (a snarky wisecracker who's a man of the people.)

I hope you enjoyed this (not-so-)little story! If you want to know more about my superheroes (how I designed them, more info, etc.) please feel free to leave an ask in my inbox! Until then, I'll see you next Superhero Sunday when I reveal the stunning Miss Midwest!!!

– Roxanne. 💨⚡🕐

[astridxreyes]

W H O    A R E    Y O U?

ASTRID REYES

AGE: 28 APPEARANCE: Astrid rarely wears makeup and, when she does, she wears a bare face kind of "no makeup" makeup look. She likes fashion and likes experimenting with clothes, but often is seen in more plain jane clothes in an attempt to blend in (ex. t-shirt, jeans , sweaters, white sneakers). GLASSES/CONTACTS? She has glasses that she occasionally wears, but only to help her blend in as a "human" who needs reading glasses. TATTOOS? She has a matching tattoo with her friend Liv (who she accidentally turned into a harpy) that says "to infinity" across her rib cage (here); A couple of watercolored little birds on her right collar bone (here); stay gold tattooed across her left wrist (here); a tattoo that says 'but without the dark, we'd never see the stars' on her left upper thigh (here); a little anchor on the back of her neck (here); and a little elephant on the back of her ankle (here). SCARS OR BIRTHMARKS? Astrid has a couple different scars on her body. She has some scars on her hips and her wrists from TW: self harm; Her left wing doesn't tilt exactly right and a has a scar across from it; she has a tiny little scar that can barely be seen across her right temple. RICH OR POOR? Astrid grew up in poverty and although her adopted family is very wealthy, she lives a lower middle class lifestyle not wanting to borrow money from them. SPECIFIC TICK OR MANNERISM? She fidgets with her hair when she's nervous, often switching up her part from one side to the other or fidgeting with the hem of her skirt or shirt as she talks to people; she also has a tendency to rock back and forth slightly on the balls of her heels and nibble on her bottom lip.

P E R S O N A L I T Y ?

What is your idea of perfect happiness? 

“I don’t really know if I believe in perfect happiness anymore, but I guess if I had to pick I’d say that moment when I just forget where I am. When the world around me fades away and I just can exist without the past or... fear of the future.” If she had to pick a specific moment, she knew it would have been when she was flying, high above the trees, far away from any source of people whom she could hurt, where she could just sing to her hearts content, letting the wind kiss her cheeks.

What is your greatest fear? 

Being found out, being sent to prison or even worse, transferred. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare the shit out of me, excuse my language, to be sent somewhere- anywhere- away. But, I think the part of me that scares me more is what would happen to my family- the Reyes who took me in when they didn’t have to- and my friends like Liv. I did this to her, I scratched her. I turned her. I ruined her life and, because of me, she might end up spending the rest of it behind bars. And Damien- he already lost so much. I wonder if he’d even look at me again if I ruined what was left of his family, Astrid couldn’t help but think. But, she wouldn’t ever dare mutter it out loud.

What is your biggest pet peeve or trait you deplore in yourself? 

“There’s kind of too many to list. But, I guess if I had to pick I’d say just not feeling able to be myself? Or even really knowing who I am? I sometimes see other people around my ages, fooling around laughing and letting loose. You know, those people who are the focus of every group they’re apart of, who make you laugh out loud and are just magnetic? Those people who everyone can’t help but be drawn to? I see them and I get jealous, so freaking jealous, because I can never be like that. And it’s not just because-” Because she was undeclared. “I just- sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in my own body. In my own skin. Like no matter who I’m around or what I do, I’m on edge and petrified of being myself, of letting people in, of getting hurt again, of having someone take something of mine that wasn’t theirs to take. I hate that I don’t feel safe, that I haven’t felt safe since I was like 10 years old and will probably never feel safe again and- and I hate when I look at these bright amazing people, I know deep down that I’m not one of them and I probably never will be, I guess...”

What is your biggest pet peeve or trait you deplore in others? 

“I don’t know? I don’t really know if there is one. But, maybe being entitled? Those people who feel like the world belongs to them and everything is for their taking even if it’s not?”

Which living person do you most admire? 

“I have two. My mom and dad. My adopted mom and dad. They took me in and gave me everything. Not just a home, but a family even if it was far from easy. They’re kind of the coolest people in the world and I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

Which living person do you most despise? 

“I don’t know if he’s alive anymore, but...” Charlie...

What is your greatest extravagance?

“College? I only went for a year and a half before it was just too much to keep paying for on my own, but it’s definitely the most I’ve probably ever spent on anything.”

What do you consider the most overrated virtue? 

“Maybe faith? I don’t just mean in the ‘higher power’ sense. I mean just hope. Believing that everything is going to be okay, even if the world is falling apart at the seams?”

On what occasion do you lie? 

“I kind of lie everyday, now-a-days. About who I am? Where I came from? But, I guess I lie the most when I tell people ‘I’m fine’.”

“What is the quality you like most in a significant other?

“Optimism? Or maybe humor? If someone can make me smile or let my walls down, they’re a-okay in my book.”

 Do you have a catchphrase? Which words or phrases do you most overuse? 

“Maybe ‘Gosh Darn it?’”

Who or what is the greatest love in your life? 

“Fiyero Tigelaar. And if you know who that is, then you probably know why.” She’s a little theater nerd and fell in love with singing and the stage.

When and where were you happiest? 

“The first time I flew across the lake. I kind of had a whole Harry Potter riding a hippogriff, moment. It’s was pretty awesome.”

Which talent would you most like to have?

“Shapeshifting would be pretty cool, but I’d settle on getting over my stage fright?” Or singing without the possibility of accidentally paralyzing someone or knocking them out... Kind of puts a damper on being a broadway star and all.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? 

Being Declared without having to go to jail, would be pretty cool? She couldn’t help, but think.

If you could pick up and go anywhere, where would you most like to live? 

“Just get me anywhere in Europe with a backpack and I’ll be happy.”

What is your most treasured possession? 

“My Hello Kitty backpack. It’s silly and cheesy, but it’s all I’ve got from before I ran away, so...”

What do you value most in your friends?

“Faith, trust, and I have yet to find someone with pixie dust, but that would be cool too.”

Who is your hero of fiction? 

“Elle Woods. She got into Harvard. You know, not like it’s hard or anything.”

What historical figure do you most identify with? 

“Amelia Earheart. She was the first female aviator to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean and she just never let anything hold her back. I don’t know if I’m anything like her, but I want to be.”

What is your greatest regret? 

“Not getting out fast enough when Charlie... when I was turned.”

What is your life’s motto?

“If you’ve seen Warm bodies-”

Would you describe yourself as being an optimist or a pessimist?

“Optimist. I’d say I’m a glass half full type of person, but I drink water too fast to have half of anything left.”

Introvert or Extrovert? 

“Introvert aka a not so closeted loner... I really should get that on a t-shirt.”

How do you hope others will see you? 

“Hooman?”

How are you seen by others currently? 

“Nice? Which I kind of hate by the way. I mean being nice is great and all. At least, I’m not the devil or anything, even if our pastor might disagree if he-” learned the truth. “But, in my experience, nice is kind of the go-to-word to describe someone you know nothing about.”

How do you see yourself? 

“Like Tracey Turnblad shoved inside a scrappy filipina body.”

How do you react to praise? 

“Last time someone complimented me, I’m pretty sure I flailed my arms and made a sound that could best be described as an awkward dinosaur noise? So not great.”

How do you react to criticism? 

“I thrive in it. My self-esteem loves being taken down a notch. But, in all seriousness, I try to prove them wrong and often end up doing something I’ll probably regret like doing a weird rollerblade dance routine to Stayin’ Alive. Clearly, one of my finer moments.”

Do you often make snap judgements or take time to consider? 

“I’d like to think I’m a rational thinker, but... did I mention the Staying’ Alive boogy dance? On Roller blades?”

Do you think you lead more with your head or your heart? 

“Bu-dum, bu-dum, bu-dum...  I was trying to make a heart sound and the second I did, I instantly regretted it.”

When was the last time you cried? 

“When half of the ice cream in my cone fell on the ground. What? It was a very traumatic experience.” Even, though she knew it was actually when her parents asked her if they could adopt her. Happy tears.

What is your guilty pleasure? 

“The Bachelor franchise. It’s like watching a car crash. It’s horrifying, but you can’t look away. That or singing to show tunes in my car at the top of my lungs when no one’s watching or sitting in the taco ball parking lot eating a quesarito while... also listening to showtunes. And then I end up ordering dominos and make the deliver guy knock on my window like I’m doing some shady drug deal when in actually it’s just for cookie brownies and those parmesan bread knots... I have a lot of guilty pleasures.”

When was the last time you showered? 

“This morning and every morning like a hygienic person?”

Are you the type of person who talks in the movie theater? 

“No. Unless it’s a horror movie. Then, you’ll find me curled up in my chair, peaking through the cracks in my fingers covering my eyes, screaming at the characters not to go in the room and asking them why in the world they’d be asking if anyone’s home when they hear a creepy noise upstairs, as if the killer is just going to respond with ‘oh hi love! I’m just making myself a sandwich. But, don’t worry. I’ll be down in a giffy to kill ya.’”

Are you more of an indoor cat or an outdoor bird? 

“I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane-” (Cue Five for Fighting - Superman) She’s an outdoor person.

Are you a fan of Harry Potter and, if so, what would be your Hogwarts house? 

“Honey badgers don’t care.” She’s a huge Harry Potter fan and a Hufflepuff all the way.

Do you like superheroes and, if so, which character is your favorite? DC or Marvel? 

“Yes! And Kitty Pryde aka Shadowcat.”

Did you used to play Pokemon? And if so, what be your starter Pokemon? 

“Yes! And in the versions I’ve played, Squirtle and Piplup.”

Star Wars or Star Trek? Or neither?

“Both?”

If you were in the Hunger Games, what would be your game plan? 

“Hide?” Hide until I get caught and then fly up real high or sing until anyone who tried to attack me gets stunned so that I can escape?

If the zombie apocalypse happened today, how would you defend yourself?

“I’m a goner anyways, so...” ZOMBIE HARPY HERE I COME!

What’s the first thing you do when you’re home alone?

“Slide across the floor like I’m Tom Cruise in Risky Business while singing ‘What Dreams are Made Of’ into a hairbrush like Hillary Duff.”

What is the most overplayed song you listen to? 

“Defying Gravity or Satisfied. Can you tell I used to be a theater kid in High School?”

Do you believe in a thing called love?  (cue the Darkness song…) 

“I believe in a thing called love Just listen to the rhythm of my heart There's a chance we could make it now We'll be rocking 'til the sun goes down I believe in a thing called love Ooh!...

too much?”

Do you believe in love at first sight? 

“No. I believe in lust at first sight, but when you think about the cliche disney fall in love moments- Prince Charming couldn’t even recognize Cinderella when she didn’t have a big ball gown on and, in Snow White, which also was Prince Charming funny enough... he was kind of a stalker and necrophiliac? And yeah... I don’t know if I want that personally.”

If you could travel to any period in time, future or past, where would it be? 

“I’m kind of happy now, to be honest. Even though I wouldn’t mind reliving the early 2000′s again?”

Have you committed a crime? 

“Who? Me? Nooooo.... Never....” I’m literally undeclared so... you do the math?

If you could commit a crime and get away with it, what would it be? 

I’d like to continue being undeclared without being caught, thank you very much.

If you found yourself trapped in an elevator with a group of strangers, what would be the first thing you’d do? 

“Panic? I’ve seen Tower of Terror and I have no want to be the little girl in that movie.”

[blazingonline]

How to Identify Your Soulmate

A soulmate is someone you have that natural connection with. Someone who just blends to your taste just as you want or desires in a person.

When you meet your soulmate you don't need to pretend to be another person, you just fit in the right category for each other.

Though most people think soulmate is only in fairytale or a character in a movies.

When you meet your soulmate, you feel fulfilled in all ramifications. Your soulmate in most cases is your destiny helper, Someone who was ordained to assist you in life. When you meet your soulmate, you definitely have no room to act like someone else around them.

What might make you end up with the wrong person.?

There are so many things you as a person will engage in and end up with the wrong person thereby making life so unbearable for you.

1. Pretentious lifestyle.

2. Spiritual blindness.

3. Decision making.

4. Behavior/Reputation.

5. Egocentrism.

In this article, I will be explaining how this five points prevent you from meeting your soulmate and how it could lead you to the wrong person.

1. Pretentious lifestyle

How do you expect good things to come to you when you decide to live a life of lies and pretends.? Sometimes, your soulmate might be your neighbor next-door but due to the kind of pretentious lifestyle you live, you end up seeing them as "not your class of person" .

It won't cost you anything if you live a normal life. Pretenders miss a lot of opportunities, you need someone who gives you peace of mind and not vice versa. You could pretend as you want but deep down you know the real you.

When you pretend to have fame, wealth, luxuries,money and power what happens when your time elapses.? Definitely everything is vanity upon vanity. Nothing last forever.

Missing your soulmate is a missed lifetime opportunity. Don't end up marrying the wrong person because of the type of lifestyle you choose to live.

2. Spiritual blindness.

Do you think there's anything like spiritual blindness.? Definitely yes there is.! When you are not spiritual sound and agile you become blind to the things of the spirit.

Before we continue do you believe in spiritual things? You got to understand how this things work, else you end up getting confused.

By being spiritually blind, this happens when you don't have God in your life. When you allow God to lead you, he will definitely give you your heart desires.

When your spiritual sight is clear, God shows you that which is destined for you. As someone who's not spiritually blind, when you meet your soulmate you have devine confirmation. Your spiritual being alerts you.

3. Decision making.

Do you know the type of decisions you make really matters.? Now before ending up with the wrong person, ask yourself if he or she is really the right person for you.!

How do you do these?

1. Put them to the test.

2. Go for counseling.

3. Ask for Devine intervention by allowing God choose for you.

A lot of people make bad decisions because of emotions or desperation. When you decide to do away with whatever comes your way because of age or what people might say, you might be ending up with the wrong persons.

Before you make any decision, make sure you think through it and go for counseling.

4. Behavior/ Reputation

No body wants to associate with someone with a bad behavior or reputation. If you feel the kind of behavior you posses is making people to distance themselves from you, I oblige you to think twice.

As long as God won't send you a soulmate with an ugly behavior, he definitely won't lead you to someone who doesn't want the type of behavior you have which is unpleasant .

Avoid doing anything that will make you look bad in the eyes of people.

"Though human behaviors differs from person to person, some are traits begotten from parents".

5. Egocentrism

For someone to be considered egocentric, it means that individual is self-centered and only considers what they feel or want without considering how it affects others.

An egocentric person feels other people opinion doesn't count and sees only themselves as center of attention.

"Although egocentric behaviors are less prominent in adulthood, the existence of some forms of egocentrism in adulthood indicates that overcoming egocentrism may be a lifelong development that never achieves completion. Adults appear to be less egocentric than children because they are faster to correct from an initially egocentric perspective than children, not because they are less likely to initially adopt an egocentric perspective".

Changing the way you see people and the type of decisions you make will tell if you're likely to meet with that soulmate sooner than later.

Posses the qualities you want in others, build on your self-esteem, go for counseling if need be.

Your love life can change for the better if you let God lead while you follow. Don't make decisions you will end up regretting.

[oxfordeliterp]

❝ The devil doesn't come dressed in       a red cape and pointy horns;   he comes as everything you've ever wished for...❞

Jacob de Terreros | twenty-one (II) | The Riot Club | Diego Boneta | open

There once was a handsome, young prince who was said to be living in a kingdom with rivers of melted gold and diamonds for fruit in trees. Yet, this prince who seemed to be having it all couldn’t live happily ever after, because the myths about his land were all lies and the rivers have run dry a long time ago, even before they’ve chopped the said trees from their roots. But as a story must live on and enchant, he does his part pretending to be the prince in the stories, rather than a lost little duke with no trust fund. Jacob doesn’t mistake the world for his, but he does his best at fooling himself and pretending that it is, because once the responsibilities that curved his father’s back with worry strike him too, he knows he won’t be having the time to taste life and enjoy its wonders. He resents his sister — poor little thing has nothing to do other than smile prettily, and she can’t even get that done well, while his part requires an Oscar-worthy performance that he still manages to nail. He doesn’t care much for Victoria as long as it mades his qualities stand out and his value exposed — because he truly is the good son, and even their loving parents must know that for a fact. He doesn’t smile with his teeth and waits patiently for his time to talk so his words would be the most effective possibly given the circumstances, because somebody like him has to know strategy and etiquette as if they are his bible. And they are; he plays everybody on his fingers without difficulty, bringing them where he wants them to be with a snap of fingers. He wins them over through jokes and an upbeat, generally playful and friendly attitude, because at his core, he’s no big lord, but a witty schoolboy who doesn’t want to be locked in a rotten manor that hasn’t been dusted off since the Prohibition in Mexico, but who is ready to oblige, knowing it is his duty and not trying to fight destiny. He understands legacy and the honor of being part of his family, no matter how much they’ve fallen from the graces of heaven and run out of resources. Howsoever, what he doesn’t let show is that it scares the spirit out of him because, after a grandfather that drove their kind to ruin and made sure of the Terreroses’ downfall and a father who couldn’t fix a thing, he fears that failure has now snuck in his blood too. Being in control of his family is a terrifying thought and he feels like he can’t even tie his shoelaces properly, let alone be the face of a legendary name. Yet, this doesn’t stop Jacob either. He doesn’t know how to stop — they haven’t taught him — and for that he is bound to make a better leader than his ancestors. He knows how to paint himself in the best possible light, using the brush to underline his every good feature — his chin, his humour, his cute stuttering that he made an ally out of and is using to his advantage for humorous effect and an irresistibly adorable vibe. He knows how to linger on the details that suit him and how to throw under the rug the fear, the resentfulness, the stress and how proud and arrogant he can get, all based on thin air and the ghost of his royalty. It is a talent Jacob is mastering, but, sometimes, it suits him so well that people are starting to see the obnoxiousness behind the cracks. Sometimes, the fact that he has learned all his lines word by word and knows them by heart makes everything go a little bit too smoothly, making him look fearless and unstoppable, which is a good perception if he wants to intimidate and dominate, albeit not genuine. No matter what, most people are sold or at least pretending not to notice because of a faux balance and general friendliness among the members of the Riot Club. He is focused on, not only keeping up the appearances, but also learning to make money — and do it fast, because, for him, there is shame in both being born poor and eventually dying that way too, and he hated nothing more than the thought of being useless and incapable of dragging his family out of the bottomless hole they seem to have got stuck in. Although responsible, he is also careful not to lose his edge and always seem up for a new partying event. Every time he isn't getting the applause he is expecting, followed by awe and pats on the back — congratulations regarding a comeback or perhaps just compliments on his shirt — he feels trapped under the fear that maybe, that somebody who didn't laugh at his joke or who glared one second too much could be onto him, ready to expose his darkest family secrets and turn him into a fool. Considering the social standing he has and the type of people he is surrounding himself with, the risks are high, and he has always been afraid of heights. Yet, he is lucky enough to always somehow dodge all dangers and, if he keeps being cautious at the same time as looking as if he is having the best time of his life with a his fingers clenched around a Sex on the Beach, nothing bad can ever happen to him. After all, he is not his father and he most definitely is not his grandfather either, no matter what the resemblances in the mirror say.

Arabella Windsor He sounds like a fairy tale and although she is fighting everything in her nature to stay a cynic and roll her eyes at his every move, she feels drawn to the concept of a duke to be. The bubbly ponytailed girl who used to take equestrianism classes in her can’t help but stare. He, on the other hand, takes full advantage of his status and the glimmer in her eyes. He acts kind and sweet, because it is the role of his life and one he is familiar with, but deep down, what he wants from her sounds just like what everybody else’s intentions. It’s just an entertaining role play, not to mention that he is pulling sensitiveness out of the femme fatale of the campus that seemed just so unbreakable a moment ago. Jacob is having the time of his life toying with her, but he does it with such subtlety that nobody can tell. Amir Jain They are roommates, despite Amir affording otherwise, because he is trying to approach a modest lifestyle. Howsoever, they couldn’t get along less well, no matter how much both tried to make a connection and turn living together into something pleasant and cordial. It is embarrassing that they can’t manage to find a common ground to start on, in spite of sharing the place they live in, but, if anybody at all asks about their dynamic, instantly assuming that they would be the best of friends just because one acts like a prince and the other is literally one, they are answered with the same lie that they are. Pretending a friendship is beneath both of them and an unnecessary lie, but as soon as they took down that route, they couldn’t turn back and admit they don’t know anything about each other past the color of their toothbrushes. Lana Chambers Lana is his Cinderella, although neither is aware of that. They have met during the homecoming ball of this autumn, and although it wasn't a masquarade, the two didn't recognize each other as they sat on the same marble stairs outside of the party, just talking. There was no exchange of names, but a fluent trade of ideas, hitting each other with the best shots possible and, for once, connecting on a deeper level. Despite the Riot Club and the Quarrel Club being exclusive and narrow enough for people to expect all members to be acquainted with each other, fate made it so that Jacob and Lana never met beforehand and didn't cross paths even after the night that tied them. Although nothing out of the ordinary happened at the event, his interest is sparked and even she has to admit to being slightly swept off her feet by the mysterious stranger. Little does she know that her Prince Charming is actual royalty. Miles Kenilsworth His entire life has Jacob got the same generic stares at the cling of his name, but it leaving Miles completely indifferent and unimpressed is a sensation he has never met before. Everybody is at least slightly influenced by his title, but not the blond, which frustrates him to the point where he would get out of his little bubble made of gold, stepping on his pride and going to whatever length to prove that he is awe worthy. Although finding Miles antipathic to the bone, he is fighting his distaste trying to get under his skin and show him what he is made of, as if the validation of a boy who is chasing hard for the world’s matters for some reason more to him than the other dozens of open mouths. Miles, on the other hand, is too busy to even as much as notice him, or so he claims, pretending to look the other way and toy with the duke after spotting this need for proving himself.