#blonde and either brunette or black hair if we’re being specific

[feliciadraws]

Look, it goes without saying alright

Blonde hair-dark hair pairings are *chef’s kiss*

[jjba-hell]

Repaid

Day 3 and its time for some spaghetti western shenanigans.

Listen... I don’t like Westerns but I did have way too much fun writing this so do with it what you may.

Reader stays gender neutral in this house, no real warnings save for some guns and violence. Enjoy.

The dull ache in your right eye socket is really starting to get you. You’d figured you could sleep it off if not for the scratchy material of the tavern sheets under your skin.

Wait.

How did you get to the tavern again? Last time you checked Miles was a few days behind you and he had the money. The plan was to camp.

Camp... camp... oh right camp! You sat up to look for anyone else awake- someone should be on watch but there’s no dying campfire beside you. There was nothing beside you, not even a horse to say you’d been left behind. All that stretched around you was an infinite amount of desert sand painted pale blue by the full moon above you.

“Shit.” You hiss out between your teeth as you push yourself up on your feet. Not even so much as a sleeping mat was underneath you and god this stupid eye of yours was foggy. Must be some sand caught in your eye- wouldn’t it scratch though?

You didn’t have much time to consider pondering as a shadow- that’s the best you could describe it- pushed its shoulder through you and continued a sluggish walk ahead of you to fuck knows where.

“Where are you going?” You found yourself asking with a voice much too hoarse to be your own. Not only was it hoarse but it brought awareness to just how dry and cracked your mouth and throat were. If you’d been out here since sundown or ever before that your throat was probably bleeding. Might explain the taste.

Without feeling like you had much choice you started walking after the shadow. The longer you walked the worse every annoying itch turned into an ache- the scratchiness in your throat only seemed to get worse the more you huffed a breath to continue walking. If you were following death, honestly you’d just laugh.

After what felt like hours you were no longer alone- a few other figures much like the one you were following seemed to join you in blindly walking after the leader. You couldn’t see much of them either, not that they were close enough to look at anyway. The town’s dull yellow lights seemed to brighten every step you took but it wasn’t enough to convince your body to cooperate. The closer you got, the heavier your limbs, the harder the steps until your knees gave out under you and your face acquainted itself with the dirt.

All you could remember after that was the feeling of hands clasping themselves under your arms and your feet dragging behind you.

“That’s the only memory I have of that night. I had no idea I even spoke to you.” You admitted to the man whose saddle you were slung over. “So unless you plan on selling yourselves out for a little bounty money I don’t see why this is fucking necessary.”

When you’d woken up from that night you found yourself more coddled than you’d ever been in your life- swaddled in soft sheets and even softer pajamas, wrapped up in bandages like you were a porcelain doll.

Didn’t last long and now you owed this gang money for your stay and a doctors visit. You promised you’d pay them back but you didn’t have a fucking penny on you. Their solution? Tying your hands in front of you and slinging you over the saddle of the one with the weird eyes.

“You admitted to being from the McRoys gang- that’s loyalty bonded by blood.” The gruff voice above you commented, not doing anything to qualm the painful pounding your stomach was getting from the horse’s steps.

“My sister married a McRoy for fuck’s sake, those fucks don’t mean shit to me!”

“Swear that on ya daddy’s grave?” Came the question after some audible hooves clambering to get closer to your head.

“I’ll do ya one better- I’ll put ‘em in his grave and THEN swear they ain’t mean shit to me.”

Their boss slowed down to a stop and you’ve never wanted to slide headfirst into the sand more than you did in that moment. “This the place?”

You were hauled off of the horse and onto shakey legs. True as hell you stood at the sign for the McRoy ranch and to even a bigger surprise your goddamn horse stood at the troth drinking water with your saddle on and all.

“Why you fucking- untie me right now.” You held your bound wrists at the giant man that had lifted you off.

He only gave an amused huff of air from his nose as he cut you free so you could stomp through the hot sand on bare feet.

“And you leave me? After hauling you out of your fucking mother all those years ago, I topple off you once and you fucking high-tail it?” You angrily grab the knapsack from its back to rummage through for some clothes- wasting no time to slip over your head and over your ass to replace the pajamas.

“Are you sure you were riding alone?” The brunette with the ponytails asked.

“Yeah. I don’t even remember why I toppled, let alone where or how..” You peered at the team once more. “My boots?”

They all seemed to share a laugh as the blonde coughed it up and you humiliatingly stepped straight in them.

“Right. So now that we’re all on equal footing... what do you really want from me?”

Being an outcast in any group was difficult, LaSquadra was no different. You’d have to risk your skin more than once to finally be able to earn even a bit of trust from their boss specifically and what you’d deem your cut was quickly snatched up by Formaggio for drinks until one day Risotto handed you your cut of coin and instead of quietly handing over the money, pulled a gun at Formaggio’s head- the first right move you’d pulled in weeks.

You’d soon learn each of them held a bounty over their heads- deciding to stick together instead of trying to haul each other’s asses to the nearest sheriff. And with your handiwork all over the McRoy ranch heist (clean as you’d tried to keep it), you’d find yourself with a bounty almost comparable to Risotto’s.

It was only when your place among them was solidified that you found yourself suggesting more and more outlandish schemes for a bigger cash grab.

“But we gotta start thinking logically about this- if we burn down every sheriff’s office there’d be no evidence to incriminate us.” You had jabbed at Illuso as you two ducked under an overturned table. One moment you were offering a stand off in the town square, the next thing you knew the bar was being blown sky high by some awfully desperate lawmen.

Risotto’s bullwhip slid across the shattered glass from the neighboring table and that what all signal you needed. “And all of this because ONE wanted poster showed you having a mole on your upper lip.”

“Did you not see the size of that thing??”

Risotto kicked the overturned table to slide into the crowd- leaving you enough of a gap to between the bullets to crack the whip into a couple hands- those viper venom soaked bone shards woven into the end was doing enough damage to the holder’s hand to knock ‘em out of the game for the count.

You got enough of them down to give Ghiaccio the chance to fire a few shots and Melone to bust open the window where Pesci awaited with your way out.

Risotto slid in behind your table and handed the loaded pistol for your round of shots. Not that you missed half as much as the men your travelled with.

Your right eye never did stop being foggy- Melone suspected cataracts but you saw targets much too easy with your foggy eye to cover it up completely. Maybe you were taking “deadeye” too literally though.

After 5 out of 6 rounds now lodged firmly in some lawmen’s thighs you hopped out the window last and took off after the rest of your team.

“If we have to pay for one more bar’s repairs I swear to god I’ll turn myself in for a hanging.” Formaggio huffed as he dropped onto the dusty floor beside you- fingers outstretched for the bottle of moonshine you were only passing around- that shit was vile.

“They’ve been hot on our trail for a while now- you think the townspeople are sick of us?”

“Somehow I doubt they’re willing to take their chances with Ciocolatta’s cronies, must be something else.” Prosciutto lowered himself to your other side, offering a cigarette which you did accept. “You don’t think it’s the new governor?”

“That little blonde pipsqueak? No, there’s no way- he probably got that job from his daddy and doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, let alone getting lawmen to run us down this consistently. Illuso, you’re the one making people squeal when we stay in town, no rumors that could have sparked this?”

“Carne’s allegedly dead but he’s not big enough for the people to let their guards down now.”

“Well we might be finding out soon.” All your heads spun to Risotto as he walked back into camp from the first watch. “There’s someone coming this way.”

“I’m guessing you think we can take them?”

“Sick of running. Anyone who’d come this far after us at least deserves an audience.”

You’d packed everything up except the fire in the camp- if it was going to be a shootout, at least you’d be ready to leave. You were about to mount your horse when Risotto stopped you. “I’m gonna let you stand up front-“ he handed you his bullwhip and two more casings of ammo. “If anything goes south, you’re our best shot.”

So you nodded and led your horse to the front, the others waiting behind you as the group- matching your own in numbers- came to a stop.

“You calling the shots?” The one with long white hair cascading under the brim of his hat asked.

“Nah- just the front line. What you come out all this way for? The moonshine’s shit unfortunately.”

“Precaution. We’re not here for any arrests, though.” Mr Black Bob came to his partner’s defense- the rest only seemed to wait.

“No arrests? You say that with a lawman right next to you?” You gave a nod to Mr Moonhair.

The click of a pistol had the hairs on the back of your head stand up. You didn’t know from which side it came from but it was like a cascade of 13 other pistols pulling back their hammers.

“Perhaps we should talk before we jump to conclusions. Name’s Bucciarati.”

“Well Bucciarati it sounded like that pistol cock came from your side first. I don’t know if I can trust a bunch of snakes that lie to my face.”

It was surprisingly not Mr Moonhair that removed his revolver from its holster. It was the one with the bandana over his head.

Another cascade of metal slipping from leather as they all pointed at one another, save for you and Bucciarati. “Got some trigger-happy subordinates there, Bucci. Who do you work for?”

“The governor.” All charm had left his voice and now you were left to the stiff formalities of a man serving.

“Ah. So you ARE lawmen.”

“We have no idea what sinister grip you have over the townspeople but it will not continue like this. We’re here for an ultimatum. Disappear from your business and all bounties will drop- no lawman will arrest you and the warrant for your hangings will be dropped.”

“Mhm and if we’re caught doing our usual business?”

“Then all charges are doubled.”

You couldn’t help but give an earnest laugh as you broke the stare off between you and Bucciarati. You leisurely turned around and mounted your horse. Risotto gave you a knowing look as you did, stealing yourself to look into Bucciarati’s ocean blue eyes.

“Do yourselves a favor- go visit Reaverbrooke. Ask some questions... shit if anyone is still there... and get a feel for the service we provide. Make sure you report all of that to the little blonde boy’s boot you’re lickin’ and maybe then we can talk on ultimatums.”

The barrels lowered as you spoke, watching Bucciarati keep up his attempt at a death stare.

“But since you’re lucky, you’re dealing with the bleeding heart of this gang- we’ll lay low until you come back to us. Same time next week?”

Bucciarati wasn’t given much time to answer as you led your squad out of the camp. Once enough distance was put between you, Risotto came up beside you.

“You’re leading us to their base? What are you mad?”

“Someone’s gotta put that pipsqueak back into his place. Who better than us?”

[littlx-songbxrd]

I've sent this in to a few people but I thought you might appreciate it😌

" Kit had only been there a few weeks when he first saw the dark haired, blue eyed ghost standing next to Jem while looking at Tessa longingly. Instead of asking about the ghost directly, he said he saw an old picture the other day and was wondering who it was. He saw Tessa’s eyes fill with tears and he felt his stomach fill with panic, this was it, he made her upset and ruined everything, now they were going to make him leave. Jem’s face went from happy to mournful as he told Kit who it was. And thankfully they didn’t kick him out either.

Kit didn’t see the ghost of Will Herondale for another few days after that.

Jem and Tessa were at the store getting groceries and things for their daughter who would be born soon, Kit decided this was the perfect opportunity. They had allowed him to get all his stuff from his old house in L.A., they went to visit Diana while he got his things, but he also went to Malcolm’s house and got the things Malcolm bought and stored for him in a closet. After Jem and Tessa left for the store, and the coast was clear, Kit got the box of clothes from Malcolm’s and pulled out a turtleneck crop top and a faux leather skirt. The blond giggled as he spun in the outfit he missed wearing. He also found the makeup he had just gotten before shit hit the fan and giddily put it on, having to redo the eyeliner once or twice to make it perfect.

“That’s a nice outfit.” Said a voice behind him. Kit screamed and tripped over the box of clothes. It was Will, leaning against his bedroom door. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Yeah well you did. And I thought Jessamine said you passed on peacefully?” Kit said, putting on the mask he wore around others, specifically Shadowhunters.

“I don’t have the heart to tell her I’m still here.” Will said sadly.

“You actually don’t have a heart at all but okay.”

“Sarcasm. Nice, you really are one of us.” The ghost was smiling now.

“No I’m not. I never wanted to or will be one of you. I only ever said I was because-” Ty. The answer was always Ty. Who did he think of every morning? Ty. Who does he dream of at night? Ty. Who did he want to tell about the dresses and skirts more than anything? Ty. But no one could know that. “Because I thought I would be thrown out on the streets of Los Angeles if I didn’t play along, and I’m only still doing it because I know Jem and Tessa want me to.”

The ghost raised an eyebrow, “and is there a reason you only wear outfits like this when they aren’t here?”

“They’d think I’m a freak or something. So no, I won’t ever wear this stuff around them or even mention that I like it.”

“Why would they think you’re a freak? It’s just clothes.”

Kit scoffed, “because I’m a boy and boys don’t wear dresses and skirts and makeup.”

Will made an insulted expression. “My niece wore suits all the time, and my adopted son wore skirts. There’s nothing wrong with it, who on earth put that thought in your head”

“My dad… and a lot of other people.”

“They are wrong.” Will moved closer and hovered his hands on Kit’s shoulders, “do not be ashamed for who you are. Jem and Tessa, they aren’t going to care, and they adore you for you, it has nothing to do with the fact that we’re related.” 

His words made Kit start to tear up. “But what if they decide they don’t want me anymore and leave like my parents?”

“Then they aren’t the Jem and Tessa I know and love.” Kit chuckled wetly, he turned to the mirror and started wiping his tears and making sure not too much damage was done to his makeup. “Is there anyone who knows about all this, besides, I guess, me?”

Kit shook his head, “I wanted to tell Ty but..” No. He couldn’t. No one could know about the terrible thing he said to Ty that night. “Nothing. Nevermind.” Kit looked away from the blue eyed ghost, “actually, could you leave. I want to be alone.”

Will nodded and left for the attic, where Kit assumed he stayed. After he left, and Kit alone, just like he always felt, he started crying. It was just small sobs, he never let himself get too loud, someone might hear him if he did. He cried about everything. His mom, his dad, Malcolm, Livvy, and Ty. He cried for Ty the longest. Kit had fallen asleep in his closet when Tessa and Jem got home, and was still asleep when Tessa went to his room to tell him dinner was done. She saw the box, the pink dress that was on top, she hadn’t known he wore that sort of style, she’d have to take him shopping for some new ones before summer. Tessa found him in the closet a few moments later, his makeup smudged and ruined, and his skirt creased unfashionably. The brunette went and got some makeup wipes and removed the black stains on his face from the eyeshadow and liner, she then carefully removed the skirt so she could fix the creases, and placed him on his comfortable bed. He shivered and she quickly covered him with a fuzzy blanket, Tessa kissed his forehead and turned off his lights. She told Jem nothing, Kit would either tell them on his own, or nothing at all. "

OH GOD

ITS LIKE YOU KNEW MY SOFT SPOT IS JESSA ADOPTING KIT

I DONT THINK I HAVE WORDS TO EXPRESS HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

TESSA RESPECTING HIS PRIVACY AND TAKING HIM TO BED AND JUST LOVING KIT

AND KIT WHO IS AFRAID OF BEING THROWN OUT BECAUSE HES NEVER HAD STABILITY

BUT TESSA AND JEM LOVE HIM SO MUCH AND JUST-

AMAZING

OUTSTANDING

YES I INDEED ENJOY IT A LOT

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Enough - Leo x Isabella

There comes a time in your relationship when all you can say is you’ve had enough  

Warnings: cursing, it’s a little angsty

@lorirwritesfanfic @drakewalkerfantasy @rainbowsinthestorm @lorircreates @hopefulmoonobject @liam-rhys​ @kimmiedoo5​ @speedyoperarascalparty​

Isabella was stressed. Rubbing her left temple to soothe her aching headache, she held Nico close to her propped up against her chest by her other arm as she tried to get some work done; but like everything recently, if one thing could go wrong, everything went wrong. “Hey...” Leo entered her office fresh from his return from Cordonia, “What was the missed call from the school about? I called back but they told me you sorted it... you could have let me know...” Without lifting her head, Isabella pointed across towards to the corner with her pen where Natalia and Alessandra sat without a word; both knowing that their mother’s temper and patience wasn’t to be tested any further today. “You two are home pretty early...” Leo began to fold his arms unimpressed as he checked the time on his Rolex “Is one of you going to tell me why?” Isabella knew Leo’s comment was a slight dig at her but kept quiet. The seven year old Princesses kept their heads down as Isabella looked across the room at them over her thick black framed glasses. “We... we were rude to our teacher...” Alessandra mumbled as she continued to colour in her picture. “We’re sorry...”

Natalia rubbed her eyes, pouting, both of them knowing they were in the wrong. Leo slowly ran his fingers through his sandy blonde hair as he shook his head looking back at Isabella as she broke her silence, “They’re writing letters to apologise for deciding they didn’t want to be taught today and back talked constantly because they didn’t like what the teacher had planned for their lessons. Those letters are for their teacher on Monday morning and no carnival this weekend...” Leo nodded in agreement as she girls tried to protest, immediately huffing as Leo laid down the law, “You both know the rules. At school you are no different to your classmates and what your teacher says, you do. End of story.” Isabella began to wince as Nicolas decided to fuss against her chest, the high pitched scream echoed through the room, “Leo?” Isabella begged, “Can you take him?” Leo reluctantly walked over to Isabella, carefully taking the three month old from the cocoon he was wrapped in placing him against his chest. “Lia... Sasha... you can finish your letters in your room...” Isabella sighed heavily as she finally had some peace. It had been a long week in Leo’s absence.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Isabella slouched across the table, dragging her fingers through her hair. This was getting far too much to handle. Isabella noticed recently that the girls would play up when their father was out of town, they weren’t getting the same attention as they once did before her and Leo’s Coronation; It wasn’t fair but with a new baby and new responsibilities - the twins would have to come around eventually. Isabella couldn’t reward bad behaviour just because of their current circumstance and hoped that it was only a short phase. Leo’s back and forth to Cordonia wasn’t helping matters either. With Leo’s continuing absence, it was making it harder for the couple and the longer the trips became, the louder the arguing but Isabella was not going to argue with Leo in front of the children. She knew better not to. On the outside looking in, the Sánchez-Rys family were picturesque, they didn’t have a care in the world but when you scratched under the surface, there were many secrets that their hearts held onto.

Things hadn’t been going too well since Nico was born. With everything going on in Cordonia and a new baby Leo felt threatened and pushed away as Isabella spent most of her time with the new baby. Nicolas was the definition of a clingy baby and Leo couldn’t cope with the changes in his family structure as he lay by himself in their marital bed, only for Isabella to sleep beside her baby in the nursery. Between being a parent and a Queen of a country, there was little less time for anything else; she was completely exhausted and not willing to put up with Cordonian affairs - it was added stress she didn’t need. As space drifted between them and Leo spent more time back and forth in Cordonia, the cracks in their relationship seemed to widen even further. Leo’s jealousy and Isabella’s fears of not being able to be the mother she always wanted herself to be beleaguered the couple and more than once left Leo on the outside looking in. The more they had drifted apart; most nights Leo stared up at the ceiling wondering what if and Isabella cried into a muslin cloth that was draped over her shoulder.

After putting Nico to bed and sending the girls to their rooms, Leo glared sternly at Isabella, “So were you ever going to tell me they were sent home from school?” Isabella rolled her eyes sighing, “I didn’t even know they called you, it’s not a big deal Leo... they made a mistake, they’re grounded...” Isabella scrunched her nose up in disgust, “It’s not like they were hurt... plus it wouldn’t have happened...” Leo gritted his teeth as Isabella had great pleasure in pointing out it was his fault, “...If you actually were here every once in a while, they wouldn’t play up for attention...” Leo clicked his tongue not giving Isabella the satisfaction she wanted from the argument and instead agreed with her, “By all means... yes... this was my fault... next time, they can come to Cordonia... or better yet...” he had a deceitful glint in his eye, “We can send them to boarding school so that their mother doesn’t have to stop working for a day to look after her children... or would you rather I get Barthemely to come and put our girls into regent care? Huh?” Taking a deep breath the young Queen pushed out her chair; her heels clicking across the floor towards her husband angrily screaming at Leo, “Don’t you dare... I’ve two seven year olds, a three month old, still attending my own and your Royal engagements... Where the hell are you other than running off to be at your brother’s side every other week because he fucked up?”

Leo’s was furious, Isabella was pushing buttons that she knew not to push right now, “Well if your fucking Uncle hadn’t taken Camille into regent’s care, I wouldn’t have to... What the hell are you doing to try to help?!” Isabella’s stony expression said enough as she slowly folded her arms, her left arched brow raising, “Don’t you dare make this my problem... Liam went into bed with Auvernal - he was warned often enough to keep them as far from Cordonia after what happened in Rivia...” Leo’s eyes slowly narrowed, gritting his teeth, seething, “He didn’t have a choice! I would have done the same! You Beaumont’s are all the same... out for yourselves!” Biting down on her bottom lip, Isabella tried not to laugh, “You are a hypocrite... why are you only caring about Liam’s life now? In a heartbeat...” the petite brunette clicked her fingers, “...You were ready to walk away from everything! You’re no fucking better...” Isabella’s lips began to curl coyly upwards, “How nice is it on your little pedestal looking down at everyone because Leo Rys is so perfect... he can do no fucking wrong!” Leo’s face reddened with anger, he could feel his fists clenching; his nostrils flared as Isabella’s dark chocolate brown eyes looked through him. The Laurentian Queen clicked her tongue, “Maybe you should just run back to Cordonia like you always do when things get tough...”

Isabella sucked in her cheeks as Leo began to smirk cockily, “Fine by me...” as he pulled on the sleeves of his jacket, “At least that is something we can agree on...” The petite brunette’s almond shaped eyes narrowed slightly as she watched Leo turning and making his way towards the door, “You walk out that door...” Isabella screamed, “Don’t ever think of coming back!” Without looking back at her, Leo pulled on the handle, walking out without saying a word. Isabella took a deep breath through her nose as the room finally fell to a eerie silence. She didn’t know how to feel other than a weight had been lifted from her chest. Her eyes darted towards the door as she heard quiet knocking. “Bella...” Jimena stuck her head through the door, “You ok?” Jimena frowned watching as Isabella placed her head into her hands and began to cry. Closing the door behind her, Jimena ran across to take Isabella into her embrace, “I am so sorry...” Isabella sniffed, wiping her tears with her fingers to stop her mascara running as she stepped back. Jimena raised her brow in confusion as Isabella walked back towards her desk to pick up the phone, “Who are you...?”

Isabella held up her hand as the dial tone rang out, clearing her throat as the caller answered, “Good afternoon Señor Castellanos...” shaking her head, Isabella’s long waved curls shimmered in the evening sun that shone through the window hiding her mascara stained cheeks, “Freeze all assets and accounts except the workers expenditure accounts...” Jimena’s eyes widened in shock as Isabella argued with the Royal accountant, “Quite frankly Señor... I don’t give a fuck... No one is getting a cent from those accounts until I say so; move what you can now, we will deal with the rest later...” Isabella placed her hand over he receiver as she mouthed towards Jimena, “if Leo wants to walk out that door and go back to Cordonia, he can spend someone else’s money to get there... everything is grounded...” Jimena nodded, stepping back from Isabella not to interrupt as she continued to discuss the new terms with the accountant. Unknown to Leo, Isabella’s staff were briefed for years that if she and Leo ever separated, they had specific protocols and procedures in place in order to protect the Crown. Pressing onto her earpiece, Jimena spoke in hushed tones to Javier, the head of the Royal Guard “Lock everything down... we need to enforce the divide et impera protocol. It’s time to throw the Lion to the wolves...”

[girl-next-door-writes]

Fake Dating

This is an entry from my eldest for my writing Bingo.

Fake dating - James and Peter

"I've got to get her attention somehow, Pads! Something that's going to make her realise she should be with me you know…"

The four of them were in the dorm room, Remus trying to read whilst Sirius lay into him, James paced the room and Peter sat down on his own bed. Once again it seemed the topic had turned to Lily Evans. Of course they talked about more than the girl, they did have lives, it's just every now and again it comes to one of James' few attempts to be with the girl. He'd been trying hard for ages but any time he seemed to ask her out, she'd always said no to him. He couldn't see the problem, what was it she didn't like about him? He was THE James Potter. Nevertheless here he was with his friends, working out his next game plan to make Evans swoon.

"Come on, You have to give me some ideas guys? I could use anything right now." The boy sighed as he then stood still and pushed his glasses up his nose, looking from one of his friends on one bed to the other two. "Anything but that…" He began to warn when noticing a smirk creep up on Sirius' face, already knowing what he was going to suggest without needing to hear it.

"How about this James," Remus began as he slowly laid down his book on the bed, keeping it open as to not lose his page "Maybe you should get to know Lily a bit better and shear some things about yourself before jumping full force into things? You might find it to be more successful then the approach you're currently choosing to take." He also began to sit up in the bed slightly, moving Sirius off him to gain more room.

Sirius pouted just slightly at him when he'd moved, also sitting up on the edge of the bed as his eyes traced Mooney before he turned his attention over to Prongs. "You could always try making her jealous though? I mean, show her that you don't care whilst also showing her how good of a lover you can be." This suggestion caused a head shake from Remus, completely disagreeing to the idea. In his opinion that may cause the opposite effect to what James was heading out to do, creating more problems even.

James, on the other hand, was more than interested in what the other gryffindor had put onto the table. It would definitely show her how good of a lover he was if she could see him taking around another girl and treating her well. His only problem now was finding a suitable candidate to use in place of his partner. "Hey Siri, you know if Marlene is still open? Or maybe one of your cousins?"

A gag was followed when Sirius heard the question and raised an eyebrow at James "One of my cousins? First off, I'm not sure whether or not that would be breaking the bro code, and secondly, if you can't even get with Lily then your chances of pulling either of them is worse." Just the thought of James wandering around the halls with someone like Narcissa made him uneasy. "Maybe Snivellus is still open since he’s got the same problem?"

"Pads, you remember…" Remus let out a sigh as he spoke before James even got the chance to get all defensive. He wanted to avoid a fight this early in the day, especially between Potter and Black. That wouldn't end well since they would tend to bicker non stop on occasion. "As for Marlene I think she's gone home for a family emergency or something so she's not here currently."

James was staring at Sirius before rolling his eyes at the smile that had appeared onto his face when he was getting the warning from Remus. This was a problem, he'd have to spend a while ticking a list to separate people off that he couldn't use for his plan. As a joke though, he did try to ask the rest of the room's inhabitants. "Mooney? Pads? Either of you up for helping a friend out?"

"I'm taken." Both boys spoke in sync as they held hands and raised them, Remus using his spare one to pick his book back up whilst Sirius tried to sort out his shirt collar. Not that Remus would have said yes if he hadn't already been taken, Sirius on the other hand would have been up to helping James out in any situation. Now, however, he kind of couldn't without some questions being asked apart from the obvious one of 'when did you two start dating?' that everyone would be questioning upon hearing the news.

"I'd be up for it!" Perked up a voice which had been silent for the most part during the conversation as he'd been more of just listening rather than getting involved at the moment. The voice of course belonged to Peter as he began to sit up on his own bed with his legs crossed over each other. When the smaller of the four noticed the other three looking at him now though, he went quiet once again but still talking of course. "I mean, only if it would help of course James?" The blonde kind of tried not to look the other boy in the eyes as he was unsure whether he should now flip his offer over into a joke.

Lucky enough, James just raised an eyebrow and looked back to the other two Gryffindors. The longer hair of the two was chuckling a bit at the circumstances as he nodded, insisting that James takes the opportunity. The brunette, on the other side of things, looked to Sirius for a moment, then to Peter, then to James. Finally he shrugged a bit as he shook his head, indicating that he could care less though still he thought that attempting to make Lily jealous was not the way to go about things. With these silent opinions, the dark haired boy looked back to the blonde, pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded. "At least someone's here for my cause. Thanks Wormtail, I really owe you something for making you do this."

"No need to thank me…" Peter managed to give off a weak smile back to the other boy, scratching the back of his head as he thought before mumbled slightly "You're already doing me a favour yourself." It might finally be a time where he doesn't feel like a fifth wheel, not that necessarily he was since as established James didn't have Lily yet but still. With Remus and Sirius on one side of things and then if things go how he planned, James and Lily come to be, then where would he fit into everything. Even if the time may only end up being short, for now Peter could hopefully know how it feels to be part of a relationship. Even if it is all fake…

~~~~~

The rest of the morning was spent deciding how exactly they were going to go about showing this ‘relationship’ between the two of them. Like preparing themselves for questioning, all four of them. Number one, When. The first to ask James and Peter this happened to be Frank Longbottom, seeing them more closer than usual. More specifically, he’d noticed them kind of holding hands and thought nothing of it at first before looking more at the facial expressions of the boys. The blonde had usually been the nervous type but at this moment he appeared to be trying to hide his face in his robes. From what could be seen however, he was a deep crimson. The taller of the two though looked hardly phased though it could also be noted that he was whispering to his friend a bit more then he’d usually be seen doing.

Frank stayed where he’d been before watching the two other Gryffindors plop themselves down onto the couch by the fire. The way the two interacted again was different to how he’d usually witness, but the other thought he had was maybe this was how they were without Remus and Sirius about. He’d either see all four of them together or at least in a trio. On the occasions that he did only see two of the group though, it was never usually this duo in front of him, normally being James and Sirius messing around together or the obvious flirting between Remus and Sirius. However this was new to him.

“Hey guys,” Happened to be the first thing to escape Longbottom’s mouth as he waved at the two, watching them a bit more since he did appare curious to the sight in front of him. Peter kind of waved back as he stayed quiet, sitting on the couch normally with his legs down and leaning back only slightly whilst on the other end of the spectrum James stretched his legs out across the rest of the empty space by him, leaning his head on the other boy’s shoulder. “So… What are you guys up to?”

“You know,” James merely stated and he rearranged his position so he was sitting up just a bit more, now looking at his friend with a small smile on his face “I’m hanging around the best guy I know obviously, just having some alone time with my boyfriend without Siri or Remus getting in the way. I mean, you’d know with you and Alice and everything.” He wanted to get it out as soon as possible that the two of them were now a ‘thing’ so Lily could hear about it as soon as possible. Peter hadn’t expected his phrasing though and stayed his previous shade of red and he went to try to hide his face again. Not that he’d argue about this of course. He’d hate to admit to the truth that he always wanted things to end up like this to his friend’s though. What kept himself for getting too immersed was the reminder that all this was just to help James get with Lily. That was all.

“Oh, okay…” Frank appeared to not fully take in the words for a second as he nodded at the two of them before looking away, going back to writing a paper due in for tomorrow. However, a few seconds into his writing he realised what he’d been told. At first he was going to get a little defensive about his relationship with Alice, claiming that ‘We’re not THAT close’ but the more intriguing part of the situation caught his attention. “Wait a second… You two are going out? Since when?”

“I mean yeah, you want to answer that one love?” James spoke as if it was obvious, which technically now it kind of appeared that way but still. Once more he changed his position on the couch, trying to find one to be both comfortable yet show off that he was now taken. This turned into the boy lying back over the blonde’s legs, having to fix his glasses on his face as they’d almost fallen off during his second rearranging and hopefully the last. “Or would you prefer me to?”

Peter paused for a moment as he looked down to his lap to watch James look up at him with those big hazel eyes of his. They made him almost forget the question until of course he came back to reality when turning his attention onto Frank. It took a bit of flustered ‘ummms’ and ‘ahhhs’ and just a slight bit of stuttering until he finally got out the right reply of “Oh yeah, yesterday you know…”

“That doesn’t seem right,” Frank began to raise an eyebrow at the two boys as he lowered his quill and parchment to place them down, not believing in their story too much. Not that he wouldn’t think they could eventually grow into something at some point, it’s just he didn’t think at this moment in time they had actually hooked up the night before. That and something he’d witnessed the other evening seemed to disprove this. “Yesterday night you tried asking Evans out by serenading her with Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You, didn’t you?”

Here was one of the other things they’d (Should have) prepared for in the boys’ dorm with Remus and Sirius, being able to wriggle James out of last night’s fiasco. This would involve some good acting from both of them to make the story appare believable though yet if they only did this for Frank then hopefully through him thinking things are true and help from the other two marauders then the news should spread like wildfire. “Well,” Appeared to be the start of James’ story, and not a very good one at that. “I’d started to think about things once Lily denied me for the...how many is it now… 15th time? Anyway though, then i was like ‘Hey, how about i get someone who actually appreciates me, am i right?”

If they were being completely honest, this was the most glost over part of the conversation earlier in their game plan. And it shouldn’t have been. If they didn’t have a convincing enough story then people would immediately see what James was trying to do. Why would Potter start going out with one of his best mates? And why of all people would Potter start going out with Pettigrew? It didn't make sense. Yet, now, it was both of their jobs to make it make sense. James at this current time though was done an absolute terrible job at it of course if Frank's still raised brow wasn't proof. Luckily enough for him, Peter came to the rescue with a back up.

"I know you always want to look tough James but… Geez…" The blonde seemed to sigh as he whispered under his breath yet just loud enough to let Frank hear him. He needed to be convincing, unlike his partner in crime here, and in an attempt to try to get into the feels Pete had looked back down to his lap and into James' eyes. If he just thought hard enough as he stared into an endless array of Hazel then…

"I found him crying in the dorm room after the whole thing went down, not that he'd actually tell you himself. I was going to turn in early and found him with his sheet over his head. Obviously I went over to ask about things but seeing him I just… It was hard for me to look at him with the tears streaming down his face. He… HeHe was really hurt, I knew that, and I just wanted to help of course and… Well obviously he needed a shoulder to cry on! When you love someone so much and just realised that, well, you can't have them then of course it would hurt. Especially when they're kind of a friend who wou--- doesn't share the same feelings back. Just kind of the heart to heart he had last night and I mean the way he spoke had me. A true Gryffindor would be brave enough to share his feelings like that of course and that's why James is. After that? Well we kind of got to talk alone before shearing the bed. So technically if you look at things, it wasn't till this morning that it was official, but unofficial it had been in the evening before…"

A silence filled the room as the only sound now being heard was the crackles of the fire that had been lit. James had begun to sit up by the end of the tale, at a loss for words at what the other had said. He'd wanted to interrupt on many occasions during it but found himself unable to as he had those blue ocean's staring back at him. Now, however, Peter had found himself looking into the first place as his face grew a Crimson once more and a somewhat shaky hand ran though his blonde locks. He had felt he trailed off a bit, finding himself unable to stop as he spoke, as if something had taken over him slightly. The final of the boys had his mouth slightly agasp as he looked for something to break the silence between the lot of them. When the words were found though, they were warm and slightly apologetic. "James… I shouldn't have assumed things, my bad. But it's great to hear you've found something you can actually get your feelings out to. I'm sure that you two will last for a while."

Once these words were offered by Frank, James excused himself from the room and began to drag Peter off with him back to the dorm room. The conversation to follow had been slightly awkward as when the smaller of the boy managed to finally look at the other's face once more, he'd noticed the other was slightly red too whilst avoiding eye contact. "Found me crying? And all hurt or whatever because of Evans? You just made me sound like some sappy love sick fool Pete…"

"Like you're not?" Sirius joked as he looked at the two enter the room again, him and Remus standing with each other by the door. "You're the typical Romeo Prongs, pretty sure Wormtail got you to a T!"

Remus looked at Sirius for a moment and ruffled his hair slightly, a bonus on being the tallest in the group is not having to reach up, before looking over to the boy's who'd just returned to the room. "Not to agree with Sirius," Though Mooney did indeed think Sirius' observation was right "But the way Peter had put things was rather convincing, especially compared to your rendition. I won't lie, if I didn't know you two weren't actually a thing then I might have believed it."

Peter turned his gaze from James again towards the other two boys, somewhat embarrassed at the previous event. From James' reaction he felt as if he ruined things and he should have just gone with the lame excuse he used instead of going a bit more deep. "Wait… You heard everything? I'm so sorry about it I just didn't know what I was doing. Really James, if I'm screwed stuff up then I und---"

"Woah, calm down Peter…" Remus ended up interrupting the smaller boy, slowly laying a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down. This was followed by a soft smile for reassurance that he'd not done anything wrong but rather the opposite to the werewolf's opinion on the circumstances. "Padfoot and I were listening from the staircase just so we could come in if anything happened. You really did a great job out there so don't apologise for it. You were a convincing actor and from the sound of it you got Frank to believe in you after James almost sabotaged things." Mooney then turned his attention to the boy he'd just referenced and let out another sigh before lowering his hand from Peter to cross over his arms. "As for you James, just think about. Pete made an excellent point out there in his explanation. A true Gryffindor isn't afraid to show his feelings to others. Even if I do disagree with the way you're going about trying to get with her I'd like to point out the fact that if she hears about this and how strong of a guy you are to actually talk about things like that, then she might come to appreciate you more than she does."

Another silence followed this, similar to the one in the common room before except completely devoid of sound due to the lack of fire as white noise in the background. James had kept his head down, looking to the floor rather than at any of his friends as he used this moment to do as Remus had suggested and think. As he thought, that point had been right. If Lily saw him as a guy not afraid to show his weaknesses but rather build on them with help from others then she might like him more. At this, the Gryffindor began to smile and slowly nodded in regards to the werewolf's words, finally choosing to agree with the observations. In this moment he also finally brought himself to look Peter in the eyes again before bringing him into a hug. This was unexpected to the blonde but was meant to symbolise an apology for getting somewhat defensive earlier about the situation.

"Come on then… let's go show-off this power couple to the rest of the school… let you keep up with more of that acting talent you've been hiding from us too." James began to speak again as he patted the other boy on the back before letting go of him and moving to take a hold of his hand as they left the room. If only they really knew why Peter's monologue had sounded so convincing, not that they would.

~~~~~

A week. That's how long they'd kept it up for before finally being able to speak with Lily. Depending on who you were, this week may have been good or bad. For Remus and Sirius it had been a middle ground as either they'd have to help out with their friends' 'relationship' from time to time, get some much needed alone time together or head on a double date to Hogsmead. If you were Severus you would surprisingly have the week Potter free since he was too busy wandering around with his new 'boytoy' or whatever people were saying though rumours. If you were most people then you'd be confused, not sure whether you heard things right when as a Slytherin you heard Ravenclaw was told by a Hufflepuff who was told by another Ravenclaw that Potter and Pettigrew were going out. Then you finally have two sides of the relationship itself.

At one end you have James who was frustrated. He wasn't frustrated at Peter, no, he'd appreciate the help he was trying to give so much. Each time he heard the smaller boy talk about him, he felt as if he was actually acting like they were a real thing. This was a good thing for convincing people around them that they were actually a thing. Apparently the news had even got to Dumbledore he'd heard Marlene a few days after she'd returned which had coincidentally been the day after the fake dating started. The thing that really frustrated him was the lack of Lily Evan's in his life. Somehow he'd gone the whole week without sight of her and he was extremely surprised. She must have heard by now right? If Dumbledore knew then of course she would, but why had she not come straight to James to question the matter at hand?

On the separate side of thing's happened to be Peter and he… Well he felt both like he'd been blessed but guilty. Each time he and James hung around each other he'd felt deep down that he was appreciated. This wasn't to say he wasn't appreciated before, just more than usual due to the circumstances at hand. Being able to praise James in front of others without having to hold back due to it 'being too much' wasn't a problem when there was the excuse of dating the guy. Hell, he couldn't help blushing as he thought of the fact they'd been incredibly close ever since the rumours had begun, revealing in the time they'd spent cuddling together in the common room or holding-hands in the corridors. The reason he'd felt guilty though was due to not having shared a tiny, little fact with James which may have helped James out a bit sooner. He knew Lily had been in the hospital wing of Hogwarts due to high temperatures and an extensive amount of vomiting.

That same evening James had tried to woo Evans with his singing, she'd eaten something off. Extremely off. She hadn't realised it at the time but soon after she'd gained food poisoning. Peter's excuse was he didn't learn that till Tuesday… Their third day of fake dating. Yes, he didn't realise it was a little selfish to not tell James this but he'd also never specifically asked there Lily was at all that week plus he also knew that Lily might appreciate it more if James didn't come around and try to get with her during her being ill. That might make things worse, giving her a headache that keeps coming and going. At least whilst using the week for his own gain, he could give the other girl a break from what she'd usually deal with.

Finally though, a week after all of this had begun, Lily was finally better and sitting down in the Gryffindor common as she copied off some notes that Marlene had lent her. It appeared calm around her, most people such as Sirius and Remus having chosen to head out to Hogsmead for the day to head to place's like Honeydukes. Luckily enough, or rather not for two of the three, James and Peter had also decided to stay at Hogwarts for the day. As if to ruin the relaxing atmosphere Lily had surrounded herself with, both boys ended the common room with hands locked in on each other. The excitement to cross James' face in this moment was almost instantaneous and he did have to remind himself to stay calm in the current moment. He couldn't just pull his usual shtick, right now he had a plan and he'd been preparing it for a whole week, just for this moment right here.

"We should really head out again together tomorrow evening with just the two of us Pete, call it a date again but ditch Remus and Sirius this time so it's actually some alone time?" The Gryffindor had begun as he led the smaller boy over to the couch by the fire, slowly letting go of his hand and taking a seat, patting the space by his side. "I'll let you choose this time and of course I'm paying, you know how much of a gentleman I am."

Even if he'd tried to promise himself not to on the first day, Peter couldn't help but get himself over invested in the fake relationship they'd formed. At this moment he'd been too focused on James to realise Lily as well. "That sounds amazing but you really don't have to, you know how I hate making you pay for me… I just feel you've done so much for me already that I can't take any more." He had to move some of his blonde hair out of his face as he began to take the space by James, him being the one to lean into the taller of them rather than vice versa as when there with Frank. It was a comfortable position for him and always loved the warmth of James' body next to his, being able to sink into his body.

When Peter had noticed the mouthing of the words 'keep up the good work' from James however when he'd started to trace over those lips with his eyes, he'd realised his time was almost up. Reluctantly turning his gaze away from the dark haired male, he caught sight of the ginger who'd just started to look up from her own writing when listening to the boys. Though she'd usually roll those green orbs when she'd caught sight or even heard James' voice, this time she appeared to laugh a bit. It was just a small giggle as she looked at the position the boys were in, a smile now forming before word's escaped. "I'm sad I couldn't be around to witness this sooner, you wouldn't believe how much Marlene has been going on about this being her new favourite thing. I can kind of understand why now that I see it in person."

This was not the reaction James expected. This was not the reaction James had wanted. This was not the reaction James had played over and over in his head as a way to keep up the charades. He tried not to show his mixture of both disappointment and frustration in his face though as he tried to stay blank. He couldn't bring himself to fake a smile in this moment as he heard the redheads words and felt them hit him. Where were the passive aggressive remarks? Where were the 'what if you had somebody better' comments? Hell, she was being completely supportive towards them. Even as James was stuck thinking, she'd looked over to Peter to say "I could always tell you had your eyes on him from the way you gush, guess you got lucky with being in the right place at the right time last week. I really must congratulate you on that."

Peter hadn't expected this either, but damn if he hadn't hoped for this turn out. Remus had been spot on about Lily of course, she wouldn't get jealous. All that effort had been for nothing. For James it had been for nothing at least. For the Blonde, still lying into his best friend, he'd have to agree with the red head's words. He happened to be in the right place at the right time. Just in the room when Sirius had come up with a dumb suggestion. Now, though, a question did come to his mind. What comes next? What were James and him supposed to do that the plan hasn't worked and basically everyone across the school thought they were actually going out?

~~~~~

"We need to make it look like we broke up or something…"

So this was where things ended then? Two hours after the incident with Lily right where it had all started, in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory. Not like Peter had expected anything other than this result, what else could it have been? James realises he doesn't like Lily anymore and thinks his best mate he's been pretending is his boyfriend is actually who he wants to be with for the rest of his life? Like that would happen. It was just some cliché that he would never find himself in, no matter how much he wanted it.

James tried to punch the wall to let out frustration only to find out he shouldn't have as he was soon shaking his hand to 'get the pain out' or something. He did agree it was a bit of a stupid move, next time he should just aim for the pillow. Nevertheless, he then looked to Peter and he continued to shake the pain away with what looked like a single vigorous jazz hand. "Like, What's the story around our break up? Cause I was thinking it might be that I'm actually not over Lily because she's my soulmate and everything and we found out in potions because of that Amortentia stuff and whatever?"

"I understand James… of course you wouldn't be able to get over her… You're almost obsessed. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt though, you're not Severus when it comes to trying to be with her…" Peter began to reply, knowing this is the last opportunity he'd get to say he and James were exactly 'together' as a couple. Yes, it had apparently been fake but it had to at least be half real. Everything James did and said definitely had to be fake as he probably just imagined the ginger from downstairs with him everytime the two of them would cuddle but that amount of faking and imagination wasn't needed for the other Gryffindor. He'd just needed to be careful with his words. "I just want to tell you this before it's all over though… Thank you. This week has been probably the best week of my life and though I'd hate to say this, I doubt I'd be able to feel how I've felt this whole time ever again. On our first day when I was talking about how it hurts to know that someone you like… As in like like… doesn't exactly have the same feelings back? Guess we've made it all the way around to that point haven't we? Yet, before we end this… There's just one thing I hope for… "

With his words being over and done with, Peter took his shot as he closed his eyes and waited… And waited… And… laughing? He could be sure of it, there was James' laughing in this moment as he'd waited for something else. "Woah there Wormtail, you're aware we don't actually have to act this out cause no-one's around right?" James had begun to point out through his laughing, completely misunderstanding the situation at hand. He'd gotten so used to how Peter had been acting lately that he thought everything along those lines were just him being an amazing actor. When he'd stopped laughing and noticed both that his friend wasn't laughing along whilst he opened his eyes to show disappointment, he'd begun to come to realise what had gone on between them. "Peter… you didn't actually think I… Right? I mean you couldn't have, you don't like me in that way. We're just friends, obviously. Just friends. You've got to be joking right? Tell me you're pulling my leg with this…"

It was almost an order in the way James had said it, drenched in complete disbelief over the circumstances and the fact one of his best friends could have actually had a crush on him. He'd never seen the blonde in that way and in his opinion, he never would be able to. Peter just felt a pit in his stomach on the other hand, both expecting yet being taken by complete surprise at his reaction. It hurt. All of his words began to hurt. Even thinking back to the 'romantic' remakes shared between them over the week, they began to pain him. He knew they were fake, he knew they were… But why did it seem so real to him? Now he had a dilemma. James knew, of course he did since he'd just come out to him, but he had to think fast. Either he could deal with this and have his relationship with James completely ruined by this, or he would try to make up a probable excuse to use. He was lucky enough to find the words in time to take the latter option.

"Of course I'm not being serious James. I mean… I'm Peter so that's obvious. I just wanted to see what I could get away with with you know, have a small prank of my own whilst we do this, maybe use it to defuse the tension… guess the opposite happened?" There was pain, a lot of it, being pushed down inside of the blonde as he faked what he could. For the first time since the beginning he finally appeared to act, even putting a smile on his face as such a low moment for him. The thing that put the nail in the coffin for him though was James… James believed his lie more than his actual feelings in this moment.

"A prank…? That's it! We say we pranked everyone to see what would happen and then it was successful, especially with us catching Dumbledore out!" There was a glimmer in the boy's eyes that shined through his glasses as he pushed them up his nose. What had previously been a face of shock had now turned into determination with a grin. "You're a genius Wormtail, and actually had me for a second. Must applaud you for that one… Now come on!" Before James had left however, there was an extra little surprise. As a joke, a cruel one considering the circumstances, Potter had leaned over and gave Peter a kiss on his cheek before moving out the door. "God, I love you sometimes Pete…"

There it was, an extra wound to live with. Those words. The Gryffindor was now left alone in the dorm room, no sounds to be heard at all apart from the beat of his own heart. Even that stopped for a moment as he thought. He wanted to forget everything that had happened between them that week. It had been amazing, like a dream, like paradise… But that's all it was. Something fake that you'd never actually get to experience for real. Just an illustration. And as wizards they were good at creating them, weren't they? Now wouldn't be the only time he'd wish to forget about it. At some points he may get close to forgetting but then something would always bring the memories back. At least in this moment, there was one thing he could remember from the experience. Never let people know what you really want.

"Love you too… James…"

[prorevenge]

Call Me Mean Shit AND Cheat On Your Fiancé? Here, Let Me Ruin Your Dating Life

So, first post here, kinda scared, but oh well. Also, this is kinda very long so, uh, grab your stash of candy or whatever and enjoy I guess. This also happened a few years ago so it's kinda fuzzy

First, I'll introduce you to the cast. The reason I describe their personalities and some of their looks is because it comes into play a little later. A little context is that I come from a considerably large family, with five siblings. My parents died when I was around four (or at least, I've been told), so my older brothers were my main caretakers. Mostly Lukas 'cause he had a lot of time on his hands. We are all blonde with grey/blue eyes except for my only sister, who got most of her traits from our mother.

(these are listed in order from oldest to youngest (for siblings), also, you can probably tell we're of Scandi origin so shut up any racist bastards out there)

Markus: quite tall, around 5'9, but his spiked hair adds to his height, so he really looks like he's 6'2. He is the big dummy of the family, but is still very lovable. Very loyal and it is very rare for him to betray someone. Kinda like a giant puppy or a really tall child. He's super kind and hardworking, and you can rarely see him shout, get angry, or ignore anyone. His personality is very important later

Lukas: also quite tall, around 5'9 as well, but looks hella shorter cause of Markus' goddamn hair. His most prominent feature is his eyes. This hard, cold, emotionless, and dead scary blue eyes. He could kill you with his glare if he wanted. He controls his emotions very well, and it's hard to get him to loose his temper. He's also kind of a drag queen. His personality is also very important later

Erik: on the shorter side, he acts like your insecure and awkward teen all the time. Doesn't like confrontation, and would rather spend his time studying for Uni than actually talking

Hilde: a little taller than Erik, which is embarrassing for him, brunette, hazel eyes, a slightly darker complexion. Acts like an awkward mix between Erik and Markus, her looks are important

WellInTheory: the shortest of the all ;n;, but still considerably tall compared to the average. Looks a lot like Lukas, with grey eyes instead. I have a short temper, if you know how to set it off, but otherwise, I'm pretty chill. The most important thing to note is that: I love my brothers to no end. Hell, I missed one of my Uni finals for Markus *very very very important*

EB: entitled bitch, Markus' fiancée whom I just happen to hate very, very much

Now that we've gone through introductions, let's begin, shall we?

So, here's the background information: Me, Hilde, and Erik are all in UNi. Erik in his third year while me and Hilde were in our second. Luckily, Markus and Lukas have a house so us three are staying there

Markus had come from the local bar with EB. Now, it was 3 AM at the time so none of us knew (he called a cab). In the morning, since I'm always the first to wake up to go to morning lectures, I go down for breakfast, and low and behold, there is EB, standing in the kitchen with my brothers fucking makeup on her fucking face. So naturally, I had no clue she was there and instantly panic. I grab the nearest frying pan and threaten her with it.

Me: Uhm, who the fuck are you, why do you have my brother's make up on, and why the fuck are you in our house?

EB: oh, didn't you know, you must not be very sharp then! Markus brought me home with him~ I'm EB, Markus' girlfriend~~~~~

Me: okay, that explains two questions, now answer the last

EB: what do you mean

Me: *deep inhale* I MEAN, why the fuck do you have my brother's makeup on?!

EB: it's not hissss~

Me: yes it issssssssss (me mocking her)

At this point she just ignores me and pulls her phone out of her purse, and I happen to catch a glimpse of Lukas' eyeshadow palette in it. Of course, I lunge and pull it out of her purse instead of asking for it like a normal person. EB starts shouting at me that "I stole her makeup" and that "you will pay for this!". Yea right. I just stole back something you stole originally. Just at the right time, Lukas comes down, searching for his makeup and his coffee. He notices EB and basically asks her the exact same questions, and she responds with the exact same answers. Another perfect timing, and Markus comes down. Same questions, but now:

Markus: why do you have Lukas' makeup on?

EB: oh this, this isn't his. At least, not anymore. It's not like he needs it, he's so ugly even this makeup can't cover it!~ (keep in mind my brother was constantly getting hit on by boys and girls alike, ie. he's one of the prettiest men out there (its my opinion (no I am not incest (fight me James Charles fans))))

Markus: it doesn't explain why you stole his makeup--

at this, EB cuts him off and starts throwing a fucking tantrum

EB: YOU'RE JUST SIDING WITH HIM CAUSE HE'S YOU LITTLE BOYFRIEND!!!!11!!1!!!1!1 WHEN YOU BROUGHT ME HOME I THOUGHT YOU ACTUALLY LOVED ME11!!!1!1!!111

*dead silence*

EB: whAT/!?!?11/!? oh so NOW you're scared--

Markus: Lukas is my brother...

Needless to say, she was embarrassed, but that did not stop her for ridiculing me

EB: well, that doesn't matter, that little girl shouldn't have reached into my bag, it's a violation of private property

And literally everyone in the room (except maybe Markus cause he's too nice for his own good) was literally like: no u, but in a mental or very quiet way.

Time passes, I get to witness Markus get harasses verbally daily by EB and as he drifts away from our little family.

Finally, the last semester of Uni arrives.

Over the course of multiple stressful weeks, EB just gets more and more annoying, and for some reason, she absolutely hates me and my sister, but mostly my sister. Why? cause she's a racist bitch that clearly doesn't understand genetics.

EB: WHY IS THAT UGLY BLACK BITCH EVEN LIVING WITH YOU?!?!

Markus: cause she's our sister--

EB: NO SHE ISN'T!!!1!11!!! SHE DOESN'T LOOK ANYTHING LIKE YOU!!!111!1

Markus: well thats because--

EB: I. DON'T. CARE!1111!!!!!!! JUST GET HER OUT OF MY SIGHT1!!!11

Markus: why?

EB: CAUSE SHE'S BLACK!111!! and YOU

she turns to me, who had just come through the fucking door

EB: YOU'RE JUST A NARCISSISTIC LITTLE WHORE WHO DOESN'T HAVE A FUCKING BRAIN!!!11!1!!!!

I had just come back from a particularly confusing lecture and my mind was still swimming at the new information thrown at me, and I was now being yelled at the moment I stepped through

Me: ...wha...?

It was all I could manage

EB: SEE? SEE?!?!??! SHE'S FUCKING BRAINDEAD AND USELESS!!!!! THE SLUT AND WHORE IS ONLY OUT TO GET OLDER MEN-

She's abruptly cut off as Erik, who had come down a few minutes earlier and was watching from afar, and Lukas stepped in front of me. Lukas gives his signature death glare and leads me away.

Lukas: insult us one more time and you'll be prohibited to come in contact with any of our family, you racist son of a bitch. Markus, you can follow her if you wish.

Erik: I wonder what Markus sees in you...

EB: a- wha- bu- AFAKLDAHFALHF (no really its what it sounded like)

this is surprising cause as mentioned before, Erik HATES confrontation and Lukas rarely looses his temper.

Fast forward a little, I'm hanging out with my friends at the local pub, when suddenly...

EB: AND OMGGGGGG WellInTheory IS SUCH A BITCH11!!!!1!!111!!!!!!

She continues complaining about me loudly, so naturally, I take out my phone and record the whole, goddamn thing. But I also recorded something I didn't expect.

EB, started to french kiss some guy. I don't know what this whore was thinking, but it seemed no one cared except for me. After she finished making out, she starts to complain about me and my sister loudly for another 10 mins or so before leaving.

I captured the whole thing. Markus and EB's marriage was going to happen in less than two days. You know what this means? Simple. Nuclear revenge! In the purest form, over the course of many years! :D

So I drive home as fast as I can without violating any laws, and run into our house. EB had gone home with one of those three men to do some sacrilegious acts, I would presume. I leap up the stairs and crash through Markus' door, then shove the video into his face.

...

I had to comfort him for five hours. FIVE. HOURS. He was that distraught at the video, and had either cried or hiccupped while ranting to me. Lukas, Erik, and Hilde eventually came in as well, probably to complain about the noise, only to find Markus breaking down and had to help as well.

After he had calmed down enough to form legible words, I presented my nuclear revenge plan. Everyone was in on it in some way or another, and they all loved it.

​

Fast forward, (wow there are a lot of these) and it's now the wedding day.

Markus had asked whether EB wanted him to invite his siblings, she of course, said no. But here we are, dressed in our best dresses. Erik, being the sneakiest one of all, had switched EB's wedding dress to the exact same dress me and Hilde were wearing an hour earlier. Lukas and Erik were wearing the exact same suit EB's secret boyfriend was and EB's father were wearing. When EB sees us, she goes fucking insane.

EB: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?! I TOLD YOU NOT TO COME

Lukas: Really now...? We got invitations~ Signed by you at that

EB: WHAT?! SHOW THEM TO ME

Lukas hands over four invitations that indeed, has her signature on them. She became furious, and of course, started dumping all the blame on me and Hilde. I could clearly tell that my brothers were livid. They however, kept it all in as they waited for the plan to unfold further.

We could tell people were staring at EB, me, and Hilde because of the dresses. We had specifically chosen dresses that better suited me and Hilde's body types, and looked absolutely horrendous on EB. Some brighter people were starting to laugh as they figured out the plan to destroy the wedding. It's time for wedding vows. As request from the four of us, the officiant asked for EB's vow first.

Officiant: do you take Markus as your husband?

EB: yES~~~~

Here, is where shit went down

Officiant: Markus, do you take EB as your wife?

Markus: do I? Well, considering she hates the rest of my living family enough to deny them any access to my wedding, and considering she cheated on me with some random guy... what do you think?

Lukas: considering the points you just listed, I'd say no to this marriage. She always smelt bad, and she would always take forever in the shower anyways...

Erik: agreed. and besides, what whore french kisses a random guy in the public? and you call WellInTheory a slut... Also, the fact you denied wearing and stealing Lukas' makeup... just...

Hilde: take that you racist bitch. I hope whatever's left of your clearly broken family sobers up and disowns you forever. I hope to see you on the streets!!

Me: so I'm the slut, "just out there to get older men", eh? yea, I think not. I mean look at you! You even copied our dress! how shameful. And the fact that your secret boyfriend is here as well, wearing the same suit as my brothers... shame...

EB just stood there, with her mouth easily catching three of four flies per minute

Markus: I think... nah. I'll not marry you. My family's right, you are a disgusting bitch. Now, where's the cake?

The rest of the wedding was spent laughing at, ridiculing, or completely avoiding EB, and a cake fight happened. EB was crying over how "I THOUGHT YOU WERE LOYAL TO ME MARKUS AAAAAAAAGHHHH" or something like that, and every time she tried to rekindle their relationship, Markus would either laugh at her, throw a scalding comment at her, act like she was the black plague, or just flat out ignore her. Remember when I said Markus' personality would be important later? Yea, this was why.

​

I also stalked her on IG, Facebook, etc. Anytime she got another boyfriend, I sent the video to said boyfriend and warned them and also suggested them to check her phone. They always broke up a day later.

​

I've mostly gotten over it now, but still occasionally destroy some relationships just to remind her. After all, you mess with my brothers? I ruin your life. Mutual, I think.

(source) story by (/u/WellInTheory)

[notalwaysthevillian]

Brewing Love

Warnings: Anxiety, food mention, first date jitters

Pairings: Remile; background Logicality & eventual Prinxiety

Word Count: ~1.5k

Based on this post by @teacupfulofstarshine!

Read from the beginning!

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 4

The next morning, Remy breezed through his morning routine. With twenty minutes left before he had to be at the shop for his shift, he decided to head in early to see if Patton needed any help with the pastries.

When he got there, he found Patton on the phone.

“Can you repeat that? Slower?”

Remy couldn’t hear the words on the other end of the line, but he could tell that they were freaking out.

“Oh, V! If you wanna come stay with me and Lo - no, you wouldn’t be bothering us at all, I promise!”

“I have a spare room.” Remy offered, putting his apron on. “Whoever you’re talking to can stay with me.”

Patton’s eyes lit up. “Really? Oh that’s great! V, I have a friend who has an extra room. He’s offering to let you stay...No, I didn’t. He just offered...yeah...he’s Logan’s cousin...okay! I’ll let him know. Talk to you soon!”

After hanging up, Patton threw his arms around Remy, covering his apron in flour. “Thank you so much!”

“Do I get to know who I’m housing?” Remy asked, a teasing smile on his face.

“His name is Virgil! He and I were best friends in high school.” Patton’s peppiness disappeared as he talked. “We went to colleges on opposite sides of the country. I should’ve made a better effort to keep in touch, but we stopped talking. He called me in a panic this morning - I think on instinct. His boss just fired him from his job and his landlord is evicting him.”

“Poor guy.”

Patton nodded, pushing a recipe over to Remy and moving about the kitchen. “I’m glad he’s moving in with you, even if it’s only until he’s back on his feet. I miss him.”

“He’s welcome to stay as long as he needs.” Remy started shaping some dough. “You and Logan were there for me.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Remy smiled, seeing nothing but sincerity in Patton’s eyes. “You know, I can’t wait to be your cousin-in-law.”

Patton giggled. “I can’t wait either.”

“For what?” Logan asked as he entered the kitchen. His eyebrows drew together as his eyes landed on Remy. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I just thought I’d come help -” His excuse died as Logan fixed him with a look. “I’m too excited for my date tonight and finished everything I needed to this morning.”

“Awwwww!” Patton squealed. “Now I see the family resemblance.”

“Patton!”

Seeing the redness in his cousin’s cheeks, Remy simply raised an eyebrow. Patton was quick to explain. “Logan was so excited for our first date that he got to the restaurant an hour early.”

Logan buried his face in his hands to prevent them from seeing just how red his face was. Sensing his distress, Patton pressed a kiss to the top of his head. When he looked up, he saw Remy staring at them with longing.

Flipping down his sunglasses, Remy headed back out to the cafe to start the machines.

Remy found himself staring at the clock whenever he had a moment.

And he had a lot of moments.

The cafe was unusually slow that Saturday. With the number of times Remy had wiped it down, he was surprised there wasn’t a hole in it.

Just as he reached the last hour of his shift, the bell over the door went off and a steady stream of people flowed in. Roman lead the pack, stage makeup still on his face. He waved at Remy before heading over to choose his mug.

Being able to insult most of the customers during the last part of his shift was a blessing. Most of his nerves about his date had vanished by the time Logan announced that they were closing.

The last of the customers filed out, with Roman hanging back.

“Roman, we’re closed.”

“I know, Specs.” Roman grinned as Logan rolled his eyes at the nickname. His face took on a seriousness that Remy had rarely seen. “Thank you. For last night. We had sold maybe half of our tickets before then, but we were officially sold out an hour before the show this morning.”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “Your talents will likely increase our business. I am happy that it is beneficial for the theater as well.”

Roman waved before heading out of the store.

Remy cleaned up at lightning speed, leaving as soon as Logan told him he was free to go. He raced to his apartment, opting to dress up a little more for this date. After giving Chai the attention she deserved, he ducked into his closet.

“No...no...no...n- actually.” He held up the black blazer. “This could work.”

Bzzt.

Grabbing his phone, Remy grinned when he saw who the text was from.

Em: We’re going to grab dinner before if you wanna join us! We’re heading to Marco’s. Hope you like pizza!

Remy: Gurl, you know I love it. What time?

Em: Five! See you soon :D

Glancing at the clock, Remy groaned when he realized it was only three-thirty. He hung the blazer back up in his closet, opting to get dressed later. As much as he loved his baby, he didn’t want to be covered in cat hair when he left.

Over the next thirty minutes, Remy managed to wear Chai out. She curled up in a ball next to him as he watched a quick episode of Steven Universe.

By four thirty he was hopping in an Uber and heading over to Marco’s pizzeria.

He spotted Emile with two girls through the window. When he walked in, Emile flashed him a smile that made him weak in the knees.

“Girls, this is Remy!”

“So you’re the cute barista.” The brunette said, leaning on her elbows. “Emmy here has told us some good things about you.”

Remy gently touched Emile’s wrist, turning it to see the charms for the day. “Oh, have they now?”

The blonde nodded, practically bouncing in her seat. “Mhmm! They said you were super nice.”

“Guys!” A beautiful blush spread across Emile’s cheeks. They shook their head before gesturing to the brunette. “This is Valerie, and her girlfriend, Iona.”

“You can call me Io.” Leaning over, she placed a kiss on Valerie’s cheek. “What kinda pizza do you want?”

Valerie moved so that they could share a menu, giving Remy a pointed look. He quickly followed her lead, leaning closer to Emile. “What kind of toppings do you like?”

“Oh, I don’t like a lot of toppings.” They said, trailing a finger down the menu. “Oh, I love margherita pizza!”

“Margherita pizza it is.” Remy flipped the menu closed and put it away. He moved to hold their hand, but hesitated. Was that okay?

Emile noticed, biting their lip before gently taking Remy’s hand. He gave it a squeeze, trying to ease any worries or doubts they may have had - and also some of his own.

“I like that blazer on you. It makes you look handsome.”

Blood rushed to Remy’s cheeks. He heard the girls giggle and mumble something about ‘cuties’. “That’s - thank you. You, um, you look pret-lovely! You look lovely.”

“You can say pretty, I don’t mind.” Emile teased, looking up when the waiter came over.

They placed their orders immediately. As the waiter walked away, Valerie focused her attention on Remy.

“So, where do you work?”

“Oh, I work over at Get Roasted. That’s where Emile and I met, actually.” He linked their fingers together as he talked. “From the first moment I saw them, I thought they were beautiful. If only they’d noticed I was flirting sooner.”

Emile flushed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, darling.” Emile appeared to melt at the nickname. Remy made a mental note before raising their joined hands and kissing their knuckles. “All that matters is that we’re together now.”

“Awwww!”

Io’s outburst had them all laughing. The four of them continued to chat about various things before their pizza came. They dug in, finishing the pies quickly.

“Your checks.” The waiter put them on the table.

Remy snatched them both before anyone moved.

“Remy -”

“I’ve got this.” He got out of his chair. “You get the popcorn. Deal?”

As Remy walked to the counter, Valerie turned to Emile. “He’s such a keeper.”

“You think so?” They asked, watching Remy swipe a card.

“He paid for both of our meals. You said he was an absolute gentleman at open mic night - even when you said you didn’t realize it was a date. What’s holding you back from such a man?”

Giggling at the Disney reference, Emile shrugged. “I just...I’m worried that he’s not how he seems, you know?”

“He’s the whole package, Em.” Io chimed in. “Handsome, sweet, generous. If you don’t snatch him up, someone else will.”

Emile watched Remy joke with the cashier. Their heart swelled as they looked on. “Yeah. You’re absolutely right.”

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[redslilstories]

Marry Me

Author: lilyme (aka. redslilstories aka. me ;)) Summary:This is how could 7x17 have played out without the catastrophic car crash and a few tweaks to the storyline Character: Arizona/Callie Rating: PG Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, nor do I own any rights to the television show "Grey's Anatomy". They were created by Shonda Rhimes and belong to her and the ABC network. No copyright infringement intended!

It was a sunny Saturday in spring as a lone black car made its way along a freeway near Seattle. Its passengers were Callie and Arizona, the blonde steering the car along the street safely, while bemusedly listening to Callie talking to her best friend on the phone.

Callie sucked in an excited breath, the following giggle only temporarily distracting her girlfriend behind the wheel. "She's moving back in?!" she squealed in excitement, waiting for Mark's affirmative answer before mildly slapping Arizona's arm with the back of her hand. "She's moving back in!"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard it the first time," the blonde laughed at the ecstatic brunette next to her, before raising her voice a little so that the man on the other end of the line could hear her. "Good for you, Mark!"

He had gotten back together with Lexie a few months ago, and naturally he was over the moon about it. The fact that the resident apparently had decided to take this next step in their newly blossomed relationship was of course the icing on the cake.

Callie was so happy him. And Arizona had to admit that she wasn't too sad about it either. He wasn't looking at her boobs anymore... as far as she knew. At least they had the bedroom to themselves again, which was a big plus.

But Arizona acknowledged that the man had helped her a lot on the last months. Their little Italian dinner date to prove Callie that she could get along with her best friend had been a turning point. They still weren't exactly on best-buddy-basis, but they were getting along pretty okay.

That took a lot of strain out of her relationship with Callie. And it had positive side effects too. After all, it had been Mark who finally had convinced Callie to let Arizona paint her bat cave. Or rather their bat cave.

So much had happened in the last year. Breaking up over disagreements about babies. Getting back together after staring into the eyes of death. Officially moving in together. Cristina and Owen moving into their own home. And Arizona... winning the Carter-Madison grant.

An event that had almost torn them apart again. Callie had been conflicted about being happy for the peds surgeon and being devastated because she knew that the original plan meant that her girlfriend, the outstanding peds surgeon would have to go to Africa for three years. To help establish a hospital in Malawi and save lives thousands of miles way from her.

But the blonde heart and soul had been equally as twisted.

This grant. She had applied for it over three years ago. Back when she had still been single. More than ready to commit to the ones who needed it most. And not ready to commit herself to a serious relationship.

It was her dream. Or... it had been. Had been for so long. Then Callie had come along and had turned her world upside down. And now suddenly faced with making a decision between Africa and Callie... she had known she would choose the latter.

She hadn't given up on Africa entirely, however. She was overseeing most things from Seattle with occasional trips to Malawi to help out.

It wasn't her original dream anymore. It wasn't three years in Africa doing what she knew she was born to do. But her vision of it all still remained.

And now she had even more. Her old dream. And her new ones. Which now even included baby showers.

… Okay, that one was a bit of a stretch. She still hated those.

But still she had organized one yesterday. With the help of Mark, who had a lot more feel when it came to that stuff, surprisingly. Scrapbook station, onesie decorating, whatever. It didn't matter to her, as long as Callie was happy.

And Callie had been happy about this. So she had been happy as well. Even though she could have lived without that balloon stuffed under her scrubs and that little tiara on her head that read "momma".

But seeing that huge smile on Callie's face had totally been worth it.

For Callie she would do anything. For Callie, and their baby.

Their baby. That thought still brought the silliest of smiles to her face.

With a couple of trips to L.A and the help of Addison, their baby was finally on the way. Neither of them had thought that it would work on the first try, but it had. And if the baby stayed on schedule, in 108 days they would finally be 'momma' and... well, okay, they had names to discuss.

Speaking of which... Arizona already knew that they were having a little girl. Doing ultrasounds often in her daily work, she could easily tell from the check-ups she's been to with Callie. But she didn't want to spoil her girlfriend's fun, since they had agreed on not wanting to know the baby's sex before birth... officially.

And Arizona had had enough fun secretly buying a few girls' clothes in the last weeks, and she could already imagine this little girl with Callie's black hair and big brown eyes one day wearing that insanely cute pink Minnie Mouse sweater.

Callie's adorable laugh at something Mark had said on the other line drew her out of that thought. "No, Mark, we don't need you to go paint shopping for our nursery yet. And we don't need either blue or pink," she chuckled at his latest effort to learn the secret kept between Arizona and the baby himself.

He had been desperate to find out. But it wasn't like he had any say in this matter – and Arizona had absolutely no intention on letting him in on her knowledge either. In the end he didn't care if in four months he'd be the godfather of a little boy or a little girl, that was pretty certain. "But I'm sure you can convince Lexie to go shopping with you for the apartment," Arizona provided as Callie readily held the phone's speaker to her. "You know how she loves to decorate".

"Hey, you wanna ask her right now?" Callie suggested with raised eyebrows. "Bet you're bored with your whacky neighbors gone already, huh?" she teased the man once more. "Yeah, we'll be fine those three days," she confirmed to an obvious question about the trip they were engaged in right now. "Okay, bye for now, Love you," she spoke before ending the call.

"Aww, you kinda choked him off there," Arizona pouted as she overtook a truck parked on the side of the road with ease.

"He'll live," the brunette chuckled. "And now...," she held up the phone ceremoniously so that her girlfriend could see out of the corner of her eye that...

"Did you just turn off your phone?" the blonde asked a little confused. Callie Torres was not someone who shut off her phone. Callie Torres was a phone addict.

"I did," the proclaimed addict smiled contently. "Or else he'd be calling again in half an hour. You know how he is".

"But you told him we'd be fine," Arizona argued, not even sure why. Not having Mark call constantly had its perks, she had to admit. "He's probably gonna worry when your phone goes straight to voice mail".

"All things taken into consideration," Callie calmed her, fully understanding this train of thought. "I left a message on my voice mail that tells every caller where we'll be and what I'll do to you over and over once we get there. Nasty, naughty things..."

"You what!?" Arizona exclaimed and nearly brought the car to a screeching halt. In panic. In arousal.

She felt the sudden need to call Callie's phone to hear her formulate what they were about to do over and over. Hot. Terrifying. Terrifyingly hot.

Her brain was really indecisive on this.

"Kidding!" Callie laughed. "It just tells everyone that we'll be gone for a few days".

"Oh," Arizona nodded in thanks for the clarification. But the thought of the nasties and naughties remained.

They hadn't done a lot of that in the last weeks. The changes of Callie's body often making her feel uncomfortable despite the effort Arizona put in showing her how desirable she was for her.

And she knew that at least some of this tension originated in the stress Callie felt herself going through. With trying to be her best at work and nurturing their unborn baby at the same time.

So, Arizona had arranged for them both to get some time off and had booked them a few days in a cozy B&B two hours away from Seattle to cool down and relax.

And obviously this had this welcome effect of Callie's libido reappearing. "So... it's just gonna be you and me?" she gave Callie her most radiant smile.

"You and me," Callie confirmed with a big smile of her own. "And, oh! And the baby," she laughed.

"Are they kicking you?" the blonde asked as she watched Callie put her hands on her growing belly.

"No, but we're definitely awake," her girlfriend returned. It had already been four weeks since the movements of the baby had become noticeable for Callie but it never once failed to amaze her.

"Good morning, baby," Arizona called out softly and put her hand on the side of Callie's tummy in greeting.

Their baby. She still had to realize that in the next days it'd be just Callie, the baby and herself. And no one to disturb them. She reached for her own phone lying on the dashboard and handed it to Callie. "You know what you have to do," she told her and Callie nodded with a happy expression before proceeding to put a message on Arizona's voice mail as well and shutting it off.

Meanwhile Arizona was on the lookout for a very specific spot on the side of the road. There was something she had planned. Something that was way bigger than a trip to a B&B. Something that was very important to her. And could change her life... their lives forever.

She slowed down the car gradually, getting them ready for what she had planned.

Callie noticed her girlfriend's actions and sent her a questioning glance sideways, which Arizona answered. "Do you, um, do you want to pull over for a bit?" she got out, glad that she had almost managed to keep that shaking out of her voice. She had practiced this scenario in her head over and over. Still it did little to calm her nervousness.

The brunette cocked an eyebrow at her. "Do you need to pee?" she teased lightly, "Because I thought I was the one with the crazy bladder..."

Arizona smiled at the amused figure sitting next to her. She had learned early on during Callie's pregnancy that joking about the challenges this brought to the brunette's body was not a wise action. But laughing along the jokes Callie made herself was safe. Well, at least most of the time. "No, I just thought you'd want to relax your legs for a minute, maybe?"

"No, that's okay, and we're only thirty something minutes away. I'll be okay," she felt a warmth spread through her at Arizona's apparent concern. She had never been one to let herself be coddled; but there had been moments lately where she enjoyed the care and attention.

Arizona faltered for a moment. She hadn't anticipated a possible denial to her suggestion. Which she now realized was pretty stupid considering that Callie wasn't always predictable. Never had been. "Well, come on, honey," she cooed, "just for a few minutes... our room at the B&B won't be ready for a couple of hours anyway."

"Okay...," Callie scrunched her eyebrows at the blonde's weird behavior... and sudden need for a rest. And she was about to complain about them having hit the road so early if their room wasn't even ready for them. But...

"I have sandwiches," Arizona redirected her thoughts before that could happen.

Okay, that was a game changer. She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and it was already hitting 12 pm. Now, if only...

"I packed some peanut butter ones as well," Arizona confessed and suddenly Callie was more than ready for that little break.

Arizona knew about her pregnancy cravings. And she had hoped that Callie's taste buds would eventually switch to something a little more... healthy like pickles, but Callie still stuck to her beloved peanut butter. However, they had an agreement. A peanut butter sandwich only twice a week.

Or apparently on special occasions like this one.

A couple of minutes later their picnic blanket was spread out under a tree that overlooked a beautiful valley in the Seattle area. Callie was seated on a pillow Arizona had thankfully brought along for her comfort and was leaning against the tree, for the moment content with enjoying the view. The picnic basket containing their food sat beside her still untouched.

The blonde had told her to sit tight while she went back to the car to get a thermos with tea and a bottle of water.

If she was being honest, heading back to the car to retrieve said liquids had been an excuse. They could easily have carried those with them on the first trip.

But she wanted, needed a few moments to herself. To collect herself, go over what she wanted to say.

This was going to be one of the most important moments... in their lives. And she wanted it to be perfect.

'Perfect'.

She repeated this word over and over in her head on the way back.

Until she rounded the tree and... felt the need to slap the back of her own head in good measure.

Maybe she shouldn't have left the basket in Callie's care.

Maybe she shouldn't have admitted to having packed her woman's current favorite food.

But certainly she should not have stored the tiny velvet box Callie now held between trembling fingers beneath said yummy goodness.

"Okay, okay... don't freak out. Don't freak out," she blubbered, at this moment not even sure which one of them she was trying to calm down. She deposited the bottle of water and the thermos on their blanket and dropped down in front of Callie, taking the little box from clammy hands. "I... wow... I thought you'd be sitting up higher with that pillow and all," she laughed nervously as Callie just continued to stare at her with an expression like a fish on land.

Arizona fidgeted around for a moment before dismissing the plan of getting up on one knee – the dress she had chosen to wear today making that practically impossible, anyway. One more thing she could have done differently in retrospect. So she sat back on her calves ad just looked at Callie for a moment.

Callie.

Her Callie. Her Calliope.

She was the one for her.

And now she wanted to make it official.

"Calliope... I love you more than anything," she started out slowly, this thought in her mind now clearer than it had ever been before. "You're the most amazing woman I've met in my entire life. And now you're giving me the most amazing thing in the world. You and our baby – you make me happier than I ever thought I could be." She reached out and grabbed Callie's hand with hers. Soothing Callie who still looked like she was going to hyperventilate any moment. And encouraging herself to continue. "You're... You're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. The one I want to wake up to every morning and the one I want to go to sleep with every night. And I am so grateful that I get to be with you".

She halted for a moment and took in a big, trembling breath in preparation for what would be next. "But I want more," she nodded her head with conviction. "I want to see you walking towards me in your wedding dress. I want to hear your vows. I want to be able to call you my wife. And in forty years from now, when our ten kids have finally left the house, I want to sit on our porch and hold your hand. And look back on all these wonderful moments we've had together. And I don't want to regret never having asked. So... Calliope Iphigenia Torres," she retracted her hand from Callie's to open the small black velvet box and reveal the plain white gold ring with a half carat diamond, "will you marry me?"

Seconds passed where she could hear nothing but the wind rustling through the trees and her fast beating heart.

And Callie looked... freeze-framed. Like someone had just pressed pause during the most important movie scene. Her gorgeous black dark eyes wide open in shock and her mouth still agape.

Arizona began to worry. Surely her love's neither verbal nor non-verbal response couldn't be interpreted as a good sign, right?

But why did Callie fail to give her the desired reaction?

Was it the ring? Had Callie opened the box before her return and just found the ring too appalling for words? She had known the ring would be an issue. She knew Callie didn't like anything too girly in jewelry. She had considered asking Mark for help. After all, he knew her best. But she also knew that he couldn't keep a secret. So she had confided in Teddy instead.

Had their idea been so way off?

Or did Callie simply not want to get married? Arizona had once dropped a casual comment about marrying before the baby was born. Callie had just shrugged at that. But Arizona had always thought that this would be important to her. With her catholic background and all.

Or was she just too scarred from her first marriage to take that step again? Once bitten, twice shy?

Or... did Callie want to get married... but didn't want to marry her?

Arizona's heart sank at that. It was definitely a thought worth dwelling on for a moment.

She could name reasons for an objection Callie might have to marrying her. But... no! She shook her head. "I'd... I'd be lying if I said that there weren't bumps in our road. We've had them and chances are we'll encounter some in the future. But-"

"You... You want to marry me?" the onset of a terrible babble rant was interrupted by a brunette having finally found her voice again.

"I... I do?" Arizona returned, not meaning for it to sound like a question but at this moment totally helpless.

Callie's expression slowly transformed into a smile. She had never thought she'd hear those words again. Would find someone willing to commit to her with everything they had. It was just so overwhelming. Especially since it was Arizona.

Not that she hadn't thought this would be a possibility in the future. But she had always imagined that she's be the one to ask. To catch the little butterfly that lightened up her life.

But now that it had happened this way... it was even more...

"Yes," she husked out.

… perfect.

"W-What?" Arizona inquired, not believing her ears of all a sudden.

"Yes," Callie spoke louder, her smile growing, "I'll... marry you".

And that was where Arizona's baby blues lit up again and her grin got so wide it threatened to split her face in two. She laughed incredulously as tears formed in her eyes and she leaned up to embrace Callie in the happiest of hugs she had ever given. On her cheeks she could feel the wetness of Callie's own joyous tears as her fiancee held her close.

Her fiancee.

She wanted to shout this out to the entire world. Calliope Torres was her fiancée!

Loosening the hug, she leaned back up to capture Callie's already awaiting lips in a tender kiss. "I love you," she whispered, letting their lips meet repeatedly.

"I love you too," Callie replied, softly cupping Arizona's cheeks in her hands and simply looking at her. "I love you so much, you don't even know it," she shook her head. It was true. She hadn't loved anyone this much before. Except their baby.

"I think I get the idea," Arizona chuckled and pecked her again.

Callie grinned at her soon-to-be-wife, and suddenly remembered something blatantly important, "Arizona Robbins... will you give me my ring?"

"Oh!" Arizona exclaimed, the box laying dumbly in her hand almost forgotten. She took the item and slid it onto Callie's ring finger, sighing in relief when it fit just perfectly.

"It's beautiful," Callie whispered, on the verge of crying again. "Thank you".

Arizona clasped the ring-decorated hand, at the brunette's teary expression having trouble holding her own emotions in check. "We're getting married," she whispered almost as incredulously as Callie had been before.

Her fiancèe brought their joint hands to her lips and gave Arizona's a soft, confirming kiss. "We're getting married," she confirmed with a smile and held their hands close to her chest.

Arizona laughed as her thumb caressed Callie's fingers. "Think we'll manage to get married before the baby is born?" the blonde asked. Feeling now more than before than they should address this topic.

"Hm," Callie pursed her lips. She certainly wanted to get married to Arizona as soon as possible. And that was not because she felt the need for the baby to be born into marriage. It was simply because she could hardly wait any longer.

But knowing that the due date was only a few months away, and knowing how much planning would go into creating the wedding the two of them wanted – the dresses alone – four months felt like a pretty short amount of time. "Well, we can certainly try," she chuckled as she brought their intertwined hands to lay in her lap. "Maybe the baby will come out the same day. It happens," she bemusedly.

"Oh!" Arizona laughed. "That'd be a plus. We'd never forget our anniversary," she joked. "And we'd have an amazing story to tell her- … or him," she quickly caught herself, fearing that she had just spilt that little secret of their baby being actually a baby girl.

But Callie hadn't noticed. Momentarily distracted by a sudden movement in her womb. "Hello, there," she giggled as her hand moved to her tummy. "I think they heard us talking about them". She said softly and smiled as Arizona perked up instantly and lay down to press her ear and hands to her belly. "Hi, there, my pretty baby," she cooed softly. "Did you hear? Your mamas are getting married".

Callie caressed Arizona's hair as this one continued to talk to their baby. Arizona loved this tiny, tiny person inside her so much. It was ridiculous how often they could be found in positions like this lately. Especially since the baby had started kicking. Callie loved feeling this too. Though she wasn't always a fan – especially not at night.

But the thought of the baby brought her back to something Arizona had said minutes ago. "So, do you still want those ten kids? Despite my hormone waves and all?"

"Yes!" Arizona said enthusiastically. "And more!"

"Oookay," Callie laughed amused but a teeny bit overwhelmed at the same time. "Let me get this one out first, then we can talk about having more kids, okay?"

"Okay," Arizona nodded as her hand was met with a tiny movement from inside Callie. "And maybe you won't have to do it all by yourself. Our ten plus kids..."

An audible gasp escaped Callie as her hand grasped the blonde's shoulder in wonder. Was she... "Arizona Robbins, are you suggesting that..."

"Shush...," the other woman interrupted, "... before I change my mind".

A new bout of tears made its way down Callie's cheek as she held her fiancee in her arms who in her turn held their baby as best as she could.

Arizona could see their future years shaping out in front of her eyes. Married. With tons of kids. And a house. And dogs. And chicken.

It was looking pretty perfect.

END

[raywritesthings]

What Have They Lost? 1/?

My Writing Fandom: Arrow, The Flash Characters: Barry Allen, Iris West, Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Connor Hawke, Cisco Ramon, Ted Grant Pairings: Barry Allen/Iris West, Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: "I can definitely tell you that there’s a way we’re going to bring [Laurel] back and she’s going to be alive and well. And Flashpoint might have a little bit to do with that." -Wendy Mericle AKA: The AU where that wasn't a blatant lie, and Flashpoint has bigger repercussions for Barry's friends and allies than he first realized. Notes: So, probably not wise to start yet another WIP without finishing the one I have going but...I got really excited about this idea and wanted to see what people thought. If this is continued (which I hope to do so), things may get a little confusing as certain characters will be going by different (more comic book accurate) names, but I'll do my best to make that clear when introducing them. There are characters referenced in this chapter who will have a bigger role going forward, and when that happens I will add their character tags. Similarly, if some characters haven't been mentioned at all yet, that doesn't mean they won't be in the story. Their character tags will be added later, too. Much thanks to @colorofmymindposts for beta-ing this chapter and helping me restructure some things. It's a much better beginning as a result. Title is pulled directly from a line in DC Rebirth by Geoff Johns while song titles and lyrics were pulled from both the Black Canary solo book and Green Arrow Rebirth, and I make no claim of owning any of them. I hope you all enjoy and let me know your initial impressions! *Also can be read on my AO3*

Barry felt that, all things considered, life was treating him fairly well lately.

Of course, he’d had to fix the mistake he’d made going back in time to save his mother, and even now there were consequences from that. The team hadn’t been happy to learn that truth, and he worried his and Cisco’s friendship would never again be quite what it was. There were things that had resulted from his meddling that he would always feel guilt over.

But not this. Not him and Iris. Despite an awkward first attempt at a date and the second getting interrupted as well, they were falling into a better pattern now as a couple.

She found him in his lab one late morning while Julian was out at a crime scene, so they had the space to themselves for a bit. Iris wrapped her arms around his middle from behind and placed her chin on his shoulder, though he doubted it was to see the spectrometer he was working with.

“Any plans for tonight?”

Barry shook his head. “Nothing specific. You know, just,” he waved a hand to indicate general Flash stuff, which Iris understood with no trouble.

“Think you could take a break for one night?”

Barry raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I got concert tickets and I want you to go with me.”

A concert? That wasn’t usually his scene. “How’d you get them?”

“Daria in Arts and Entertainment gets sent them sometimes and she can’t make tonight work, so she offered them to me.”

Daria in Arts and Entertainment? That probably meant this was some kind of pop thing, didn’t it? Barry’s face scrunched up.

“I don’t know, Iris…”

“Bear, come on.” She squeezed him tight for a moment before letting go and taking a couple steps back. “It’s Birds of Prey!”

“Am I supposed to know them?”

“They’ve only been my favorite band since college, so I would hope so,” she remarked, and Barry turned around with a frown. He could have sworn Iris always said she liked the pop star Cassidy best. “They do some slow stuff, too. I know how you like your jazz,” Iris added  with an indulgent roll of the eyes. “So are you in or out?”

He knew Iris still wanted to do some normal couple stuff as well as more extravagant dates. And if she was happy, Barry was sure he could put up with some music that might not be his taste.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m in. It’ll be fun.”

“Great.” Iris leaned in and pecked him on the lips. “Gotta head back to work, but I will see you later for our date. I’ll text you the details.”

“Okay.” Barry watched her go, his smile falling off his face as she disappeared down the stairs. If this was Iris’ favorite band, he was going to have to do some research.

He went to his computer and searched the name Birds of Prey, only finding articles about a band and their lead singer, a woman only known as Dinah.

“Triumphant return to Central City after particle accelerator accident,” he read aloud to himself from the bit of preview text from one article. What did that mean? And why did the name Dinah sound oddly familiar to him?

A knock on his lab door called his attention, and he was busy the rest of the afternoon with casework, even with Julian’s added assistance. Rather than resume his internet search after his shift ended, Barry decided to pursue a different avenue of inquiry.

Cisco was present when he rushed into STAR Labs. His friend barely looked up from the computer monitor he’d been studying.

“Cisco, hey, what do you know about Birds of Prey?”

That question caught the engineer’s attention. “Uh, you mean one of the greatest musical groups of our time?”

“Yeah. Sure.” How did everybody already know this band besides him?

“They’re stopping here on their comeback tour. I think it’s tonight, isn’t it? I missed the online bid for tickets.”

“Iris got two from her coworker, so we’re going tonight,” Barry revealed.

Cisco groaned. “Lucky. I only saw Dinah live once, back when she was doing open mic nights around colleges, you know?” Cisco’s gaze got a faraway look. “I had a poster of her on my wall all through grad school. I’d give anything for a picture with her.”

“Well, I can’t promise that, but I can try and get you a picture of just her.” Barry checked his phone. “I’ve got to meet Iris at the house.”

“Yeah, have a good night.”

“You, too.” It hadn’t been perfect, but Cisco had at least been willing to open up to him about some topic, even if it was one that made little sense to Barry.

He arrived home and changed quickly into clothes better suited for a concert. Iris already had the keys to the car, so she drove them over rather than him running them. They parked on the street near the venue and joined a fast-growing line to get in.

“So, everybody keeps calling this the comeback tour,” Barry began. “What’re they coming back from?”

“You really didn’t hear?” When he shook his head, Iris continued, “They were performing on stage the night of the particle accelerator explosion.”

“And there was an accident,” he said, repeating what he had read before.

“Yeah, the sound equipment and everything, you know? I mean, the band manager got them all off the stage before anyone got too hurt, but there were all kinds of rumors about Dinah’s voice being damaged or the trauma being too much to let her go back on stage.”

“Wow,” was all Barry could come up with. 

“Yeah. But, she got back in the game. This is their last stop on the tour, at least for now. People are wondering if they might go international next.”

They had passed through the doors and now were too busy looking for their seats to talk. They weren’t right in the front row, but Arts and Entertainment writers were clearly given a good spot, probably in hopes the review would be better.

The lights dimmed, and a voice came over the systems. “Central City, here tonight is the band that needs no introduction. This is...Birds of Prey!”

The obligatory fog machine obscured things as the musicians all got into place. He counted two redheads and a woman with hair so dark it almost bordered on black. Nothing about them seemed to stand out in his memory.

But he didn’t need the large screens on either side to tell who the woman was that strode confidently downstage to the mic in the center. Even if it should have been impossible.

“Laurel?”

The crowd was too loud around them, and Iris was busy with cheering and didn’t hear him or see his distress.

How could it be possible? He still remembered standing in front of Laurel’s grave, watching as Oliver tried to hold back the anguish that had been in the wet sheen of his eyes and the deep lines of his face. He didn’t think he could ever forget that look. It hadn’t just been Barry’s team who’d loved her.

And yet she was standing above him on a stage, so alive.

“Hello, Central City! It is good to be back.” Laurel paused to let the cheers subside. “I wanted to make sure we stopped here on tour. Had a bit of a fight for it. You can ask Ted.”

Iris leaned over to tell him, “Ted’s the band manager. He’s practically a father to her.”

“He is?” Who was Ted? Where was Captain Lance?

Iris nodded but gave him a second look. “You okay?”

He felt incredibly faint, actually, but there was no time to explain anything to Iris. There were people all around them and Laurel was speaking again.

“But Ted agreed, because we don’t walk away from things. Right, Central City?”

Laurel paused again for cheers. Someone out in the crowd shouted a, “We love you!”

“I love you, too!” She replied with a beautiful smile. “No matter how many times we get knocked down, we get back up. So let’s get up and get things started!”

She motioned back to the band, and the dark brunette hit her drumsticks together four times before the rest of the music started up. People were already on their feet, and Barry stood as well to see better. Now that he was over the shock he started taking more of her appearance in. There was still her blonde hair cascading down her back, but that was about where the similarities ended in how this Laurel styled herself. She had on a blue tank top, ripped up jean shorts, and fishnet leggings on under those. Fishnets!

Was it Siren? Was this all just some trick? And yet even as he thought that it made little sense. Iris’ favorite band since college, Cisco’s poster in grad school...somehow, Laurel Lance had been a member of this band for years. 

But she’d been a hero. They all knew that. Or they had.

The song they were performing now seemed to be called Fish Out of Water, judging by the chorus. Barry could relate to that feeling. Then it hit him that Laurel actually had a really good voice. He’d never known that about her, whether it had even been true before...all this.

Because it was dawning on him what this was. Just like the changes that had occurred to his friends’ loved ones because of his meddling, the only explanation for Laurel not only being alive but drastically different than he remembered was the timeline being altered. But how could he have missed this?

If this much was different, what else had changed in Star City? He’d spoken to Felicity briefly since returning to this timeline and realized John now had twins instead of a daughter, but what about Oliver? Were he and the others okay?

“I’m gonna slow things down a bit,” Laurel was saying. “Even if I know you guys like things fast around here.”

Iris nudged him in the side with a big grin. It faded as he looked at her, though. “Seriously, Bear, you okay?”

“It can wait.” Now wasn’t the time or place to get into it. He wasn’t even sure how to explain to Iris that a woman she had never met but admired was now still a woman she had never met but admired just in a different way.

“If ya broke the wings of a blackbird, baby...it’s a joke to think she’ll look backward, baby,” Laurel sang. She looked...sad, somehow. Not in an obvious way. The confidence was still there, but it was like something was missing. And Barry thought he knew what it was.

His mind raced as the band closed out with another louder number to get people cheering right at the end.

“How do you feel about pretending to be from Arts and Entertainment?” He asked at more of a shout in Iris’ ear to be heard.

She raised both eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Barry ran instead, back to her office at Central City Picture News to grab a camera and a couple of press passes. When he reappeared at her side, she blinked in surprise.

“Barry—”

“It’s kind of important that we talk to her. I’ll explain on the way home.”

Iris looked unsure, but she nodded, trusting him. Barry felt a boost of confidence at that; the rest of his teammates weren’t that willing to trust in his ability these days.

They made their way backstage with the passes and waited as Laurel and the others exited the stage. Barry felt a little stunned to watch her approach this close despite seeing her up on the stage. She was real and alive and a part of him wanted to rush forward and hug her — but that would probably get them kicked out.

There were a few lucky fans with special passes there, too, and he watched as the woman and sometimes-teammate he’d known signed autographs and took selfies with them. He snapped a couple of pictures with the camera he’d borrowed for appearance’s sake.

“Great show tonight, Dinah,” Iris called out to get her attention. She held out her hand when the other woman approached. “I’m Iris West with Central City Picture News. Huge fan, really.”

“Thanks for coming out,” said Laurel, her eyes only briefly passing over Barry, and it was so strange not seeing even a hint of recognition there. Had they never met in this timeline? What did this mean about whether she knew the others?

“So what’s next for the band?” He asked. “International, somewhere else in the states? Star City, maybe? It’s our, uh, sister city,” Barry added when both Laurel and Iris gave him odd looks.

“Funny you should say that. We’ll be taking some time off in Star, yeah. Ted and me, anyway. The other girls are stopping home in Gotham, but Ted’s got a place there.” She nodded back towards an older man with flecks of gray in his hair and a few lines in a deeply tanned face.

“Great,” said Barry.

“Your new song, Blackbird. It’s really good, and the lyrics, uh, what’s the story behind that?” Iris asked. Barry knew he’d put her on the spot and that this style of interview wasn’t exactly her specialty. He thought she was doing a great job, though.

Laurel shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of false starts in life. A lot of things I’ve had to walk away from. You learn to live with it.” She glanced over at Ted again who made some kind of motion. “Listen, there’s a girl scheduled to meet me in the green room, so if we could wrap this up?”

“Yeah, absolutely. I’ll message your people if I think of anything else to ask,” Iris said quickly. “Thanks so much for your time.”

“Yeah, thanks Lau— uh, Dinah,” Barry remembered at the last second. Her eyes jumped to his with a sharp look.

“Yeah. You too.” Laurel said quietly. She turned and walked away, glancing back at them over her shoulder once.

“So what was that actually about?” Iris asked in his ear. Barry gave a start and looked away from the hallway Laurel had disappeared down. They went through a side exit and started the walk back to the car.

“I know her. Or knew her. Um, before I changed the timeline.”

Iris’ eyes widened. “Really? How?”

“She wasn’t a singer. She was the Black Canary. A hero, part of Oliver’s team. She died last spring—” Iris stopped in her tracks, expression one of alarm. Barry reached for her hand to keep her moving down the sidewalk. “—or she did in that timeline. I don’t know how this happened.”

Iris was quiet for a few moments, processing the information. “Well, at least she’s here in this timeline?”

“Yeah, but,” Barry began. He shrugged. “It’s so different. She doesn’t even go by the same name!”

He remembered seeing Dinah on the gravestone, only then realizing they’d all been calling her by her middle name the whole time. What made a person decide to change names? How far back did this divergence from the timeline go?

Iris was frowning, discomfort showing on her features. She had defended his actions in changing things to the rest of the team, but was this a step too far? What did she think of him now? “Well, Bear, I think you’re just going to have to leave this be,” she said eventually. “It’s too late to change things.”

“I know. I just — I need to check on the others in Star, okay? Just so I know what’s been going on if we ever have to team up sometime.”

“Okay.” Iris let him go with a kiss, and then Barry was off running again, first to get his suit and then to Star City.

What was Team Arrow like without a Black Canary? What was Oliver like? He didn’t know too much about the other man’s relationship with Laurel, but they’d obviously been close judging by how affected he’d been at the funeral. What would Barry be like without one of his teammates? He couldn’t even imagine it.

He entered the cave and stopped, calling out to make sure the space wasn’t as empty as it appeared. “Hey, Ollie, you in? Really need to talk to — woah!”

Barry didn’t quite dodge out of the way of two arrows connected by a wire that shot out and pinned him to the wall behind him.

A young man, teenager really, with blonde hair and dark skin emerged from behind a support beam. He carried a bow and quiver of arrows and was grinning as he approached. “Gotta watch your surroundings better, Flash.”

“Connor,” said a familiar voice, the tone only slightly warning.

“I’m only messing, dad,” said the teenager to Oliver as the older man approached. Barry felt his mouth drop open. Since when did Oliver have a second son?

Oliver himself seemed different, somehow, in ways that were hard to define. The stubble he usually had could more accurately be called a goatee, and there were lines in his face that Barry could have sworn hadn’t been there. But he didn’t look as abjectly miserable as the last time Barry had seen him.

“What’s going on, Barry?”

He decided to just cut to the chase. “What do you know about Dinah Laurel Lance?”

Oliver’s face scrunched up. He frowned, though it was more in confusion than anything else. Then the worst possible answer left his lips.

“Who?”

[angstytieflingbard]

Hero’s Journey - Chapter Two Battle Simulations

Summary: Link does a battle simulation, and finds an enemy in Bakugou. Thankfully, he finds some friends too. He only wishes he didn't notice how empty the sky is.

Warnings: Semi-Graphic Depictions of Canon Typical Violence, Cursing

A/N: Here it is! I’m sick, I think I might be dying, but I got it done, and not too much over the deadline I set either. I was hoping to have it out earlier today, so I’m sorry, but my brain felt like mush so finishing and editing it was a bit rough. I hope you enjoy though, and don’t be afraid to tell me what you think! 

~~

When Link got into class the next morning, chaos had already erupted, despite it only being 7:40.

‘I’m starting to notice a trend…’ Link thought, edging around the commotion in the front of the room to get to his seat. He was near the back of the class, next to a quiet boy with red and white hair. Link glanced over at the boy for a moment, curious, but found his attention quickly dragged back to the front of the room. 

Iida and Bakugou were arguing again, as they had been the morning before (according to Uraraka, Iida had gotten upset over Bakugou putting his feet on the desk, which is what started them both off), Kirishima and Ochaco were attempting to mediate the confrontation, and Midoriya was settled against the wall opposite them, watching their argument with a somewhat anxious expression on his face. Link waved at him, admittedly somewhat obnoxiously, until the greenette finally looked over at him. He gave a quick ‘Come Here’ signal, and Midoriya made his way over, keeping an eye on the group at the front as he did. 

‘You okay?’ Link scribbled onto a spare paper in his notebook and showed it to the boy. 

“I’m alright. Just… it’s been awhile since I’ve seen Bakugo get this worked up over something. And usually when he does it’s at me, so… you know.” Midoriya chuckled uncomfortably. Link narrowed his eyes. 

‘With what you said yesterday, I’m surprised you don’t just avoid him entirely.’ He wrote next, and Midoriya sighed. 

“It’s complicated. We were friends as kids. But he’s… kinda angry, as I’m sure you can tell. I’m- I was, quirkless. So I was an easy target, I guess.” Midoriya explained, spurred on by the intent look on Link’s face. He wasn’t laughing anymore, but he offered a sad, weak smile to the blonde. 

‘He sounds like a bully. That won’t fly here, not if he wants to be a hero. So don’t worry about him being an ass to you anymore.’ Link writes, and Midoriya’s smile gets a little wider. A little more real. 

By now, Iida and Bakugou had both finally gone to their seats, Kirishima and Ochaco following a moment later, and the green-haired boy patted Link’s shoulder gratefully as he goes to his desk too. Class started only a couple minutes later. 

~~

Link hesitated in front of the changing room doors for only a moment this time, turning and heading into the girls’ room as he remembered his experience in the boys’ only the day before. It’s much calmer, and after some introductions, quiet conversation filled the air as as he changed into his hero costume. 

It was a bit complicated to get into, admittedly. First, cream-colored harem pants, tucked into knee-high brown steel-capped boots, and held up by two overlapping hip scarves. Next came the long sleeved olive green undershirt, and short sleeved cerulean overshirt, and then a faux-leather chestplate (one-shouldered, giving his sword arm a better range of motion), and gauntlets, fingerless gloves, and tactical belt of similar make. The chestplate and gloves were also engraved with a gilded symbol of three triangles stacked to make one larger one. For the final touches, he had a shoulder guard on his shield arm, a long, white scarf, and a small headpiece, consisting of a decorative ear cuff, curling over and behind his pointed ear to look reminiscent of feathers, with an earbud attached. 

When he finished getting dressed, he was surprised to see that some of the girls had waited up for him, talking quietly amongst themselves. 

“Wow, your costume looks so cool! It reminds me of fantasy stories, if that makes sense?” Uraraka complimented his outfit cheerfully as the remaining few in the room filed out along with them. Link smiled, feeling his cheeks pinken at the compliment. 

“It certainly looks protective, anyway. I hadn’t even thought of something like steel-toed boots…” Jiro said thoughtfully, and Yaoyorozu nodded in agreement. 

“The design is certainly interesting. Most of our costumes make our quirk pretty obvious, but I don’t know if I could even guess at yours.” Link’s smile stretched to a mischievous grin, and he shrugged nonchalantly in answer. 

Soon enough they were at the training grounds, and the group of four dispersed, only Uraraka staying by Link. Most of the class was there as well, though he noticed Midoriya was conspicuously absent. 

“Where do you think Deku-kun is?” Uraraka asked, seemingly voicing his thoughts. He paused for a moment, remembering the conversation they’d had after school about Midoriya’s nickname. 

“Why does he call you Deku?” Iida had asked, and Link cocked his head to the side curiously. 

‘Doesn’t Deku mean useless?’ He remembered thinking. The word reminded him of trees, though he couldn’t fathom why. 

As Midoriya had explained, Link frowned. This guy seemed more and more like a villain the more he heard about him.

Link sighed at the memory, glancing back in the direction of the training ground entrance. As though summoned by Uraraka’s question, Midoriya jogged out into the area the class gathered in, and Link tapped the brunette’s shoulder, pointing to the boy as he approached. 

“Hey Deku! I love your costume, not too flashy, you know?” She greeted him, and he froze, seeming to fluster at the compliment. 

“Well, I… Uh…” He trailed off, and Link felt his brows raise. Uraraka was right, though. Midoriya’s costume was almost cute in it’s simplicity, a green body suit with white accents, red tactical belt and tennis shoes, white gloves, black knee and elbow pads, and a black and white translucent mask over the lower half of his face. With the long protrusions attached to the head of the suit, it reminded Link of a bunny, and he couldn’t help but smile lightly. 

“I should have been more specific about what I wanted. This bodysuit is skintight!” She complained, and Link huffed out a laugh in agreement. It was true, the suit seemed uncomfortably tight, though he imagined the heels weren’t much help either. He tapped her foot with his, giving an exaggerated glance down at her boots to make his point, and she smiled sheepishly. 

“Well… the heels were my idea. I kind of regret that now though…” She admitted, adjusting her astronaut-like face visor.

“I love this school.” The three glanced over at the comment to see a short, grape-headed boy practically drooling as he looked at Uraraka. Link narrowed his eyes, moving to loom threateningly over him. 

“Uh, Link? Link?” Midoriya asked, concerned. The boy looked up, paling at the malicious intent on the blonde’s face. Link reared his leg back to punt the grape into the nearest wall. 

“Alright students, now that you’re ready, it’s time for combat training!” All Might announced, voice booming across the faux urban landscape. Link paused at the voice and the grape boy quickly scrambled away from him. He sighed, but turned and stalked over to the rest of the class, Midoriya and Uraraka following quickly after. Link spared one more glance at the now terrified grape before All Might started to speak. He gave them a brief explanation on the statistics of indoor vs. outdoor battles, and informed them that they would be doing indoor battle simulations. Several students started asking questions all at once, the pro hero listening patiently to their concerns. 

“How will wins and losses be determined?” 

“How much can we hurt the other team?” Link glanced over at Bakugo dubiously at this.

“Will the losers be in danger of getting expelled like yesterday?” 

“How will we be split into teams?” 

“Isn’t this cape fabulous?” 

All Might cut in, telling everyone to settle down so he could explain the rules, pulling out a small pamphlet as he did. 

“A script?” Midoriya murmured in surprise, and Link snorted. 

The exercise seemed simple enough. They’d be split up randomly into teams of two, and then fight indoors as heroes vs villains, with the villains protecting a fake weapon and the heroes attempting to either retrieve the weapon or capture the villains. 

“Also, as we have an uneven number, one team will have three people!” He said, holding up a box filled with little slips of paper. 

“We’re deciding that haphazardly? And won’t the team with three have an unfair advantage?” Iida interrupted again, though this time Midoriya was the one to answer. 

“Pros are always having to create makeshift teams with heroes from other agencies, and sometimes hero vs. villain teams end up unbalanced in terms of numbers, so maybe that’s why?” He offered. 

“I see. So that too is a reflection of the real world. Please excuse my rudeness!” He said with a bow. All Might accepted the apology, and the students moved to take slips from the box, finding their teams quickly enough. Link read his own slip as he stepped away from the box. 

‘Team G…’ He surveyed the class, skirting around the edges of the group and discreetly checking people’s papers. 

“Uh, Team G? Anyone?” Link turned at the voice, seeing a boy with almost yellow blonde hair, a horizontal streak of black looking almost like a lightning bolt crossing the side of his hair. He walked over and tapped on his shoulder, the boy jumping at the contact and spinning to face him. 

“Oh! Hey, you team G?” Link nodded, and he grinned. “Yo, I’m team G too.” Jiro approached them, holding her slip up to show them. 

“Nice! I’m Kaminari, by the way.” He introduced himself. 

“I’m Jiro, this is Link. He doesn’t talk.” Jiro responded, giving Link a small smile in return for his grateful expression. Kaminari nodded, thankfully not seeming to mind, and the three followed the rest of the class to the observation room. 

~~

The first battle went to hell almost immediately. 

Yaoyorozu was right to call it a lynching, watching Bakugo for all intents and purposes attempting to murder his friend. He felt helpless watching his friend get hurt, knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. Even Uraraka had gotten hurt, the overuse of her quirk making her sick, and both of them had gotten sent to the infirmary soon after the battle. Link had glared daggers at Bakugo the entirety of the discussion after the fight. The explosive boy didn’t even look back at him, seemingly consumed in inner conflict.  

Next was Todoroki and Shouji against Ojiro and Hagakure. The battle lasted only two minutes, though it had felt even shorter to Link, attention split between the screens and his partners strategizing next to him. The others seemed horrified at the strength of the bichromatic boy, though Link found himself more intrigued. He kept feeling that nagging feeling of familiarity at seeing the boys quirk. 

Finally, it was his groups turn. They were the heroes, and Yaoyarozu and Mineta were the villains. 

“Alright, so we have a plan. Jiro checks each floor with her quirk, and when we find them I stun them with my electricity, and then Link goes in and keeps them busy until we grab the weapon.” Kaminari recalled, and Jiro and Link nodded. The signal for them to enter sounded not long after, and they filed in, Jiro at the head of the group. 

They followed their system, Jiro checking each floor meticulously with her quirk, all the way to the fourth, when the girl finally nodded, pointing towards the floor above. They headed towards the stairs, and Kaminari gingerly tested the doors, mindful for traps. They realized quickly that the doors were blocked. Link stepped forward, gently brushing Kaminari out of the way, and braced himself to try and ram the door open. 

He took a glance back to make sure they were prepared, and at their nods, he rammed into the door, clenching his teeth at the pain that reverberated through his shoulder. The door gave a little, and he heard a clatter on the other side, confirming his suspicion that the door was blocked rather than locked or held shut by something. He tried again, and this time the door opened, stopped only by the metal bars littering the ground in front of the door. 

Link rolled his shoulder to ease the quickly-forming ache as Kaminari moved in front of him, activating his quirk and blasting the room with electricity. It was a relatively low voltage, as Kaminari had explained earlier that if he tried to do too powerful of an attack he wouldn’t be able to control it, likely putting the two of them in the crossfire in the process. 

As soon as the electricity dissipated, Link charged forward, surveying the room quickly. Mineta was on the ground, whining dramatically about the pain, but Yaoyarozu was still standing, already making something to use as a weapon despite the pain he was sure she was still feeling. He also realized the weapon wasn’t in this room, and clicked his tongue in slight annoyance, realizing they’d hidden it somewhere else. It was a good plan, forcing them to fight while the weapon was safely tucked away, possibly even on a part of one of the lower floors that they hadn’t manually checked. Unfortunately, that meant there wouldn’t be any avoiding conflict with Yaoyarozu still standing. Link grabbed Mineta by the back of his shirt, throwing him (possibly a little harder than necessary) over to Jiro and Kaminari, and started in Yaoyarozu’s direction. 

She swung her weapon at him, a long metal baton, and Link brought his arm up, catching it on his gauntlet with a grunt, holding back a wince. He twisted his hand around before she could swing, gripping the baton and yanking it away from her. He backed up to give himself some time, adjusting his grip on the baton. 

‘I could use it like a sword…’ He mused, and with that thought, he lunged forward, baton connecting with Yaoyorozu’s newly made one. 

From there, it was almost like a dance, and the rest of the room seemed to fade away as he fought with a singular attention. Yaoyarozu struggled to keep up, each blow connecting a bit too close for comfort, and finally their batons locked. They struggled for a moment, each trying to overpower each other, until finally Link grunted and pushed her back with all his strength, sending her stumbling back. He gave her no time to recover, dashing forward and dropping the baton, pulling the roll of capture tape from his belt and wrapping it around her as swiftly as possible. 

“Villains Captured! The Heroes Win!” 

~~

‘Hey, Bakugou.’ Link set the paper on the explosive boys desk. Bakugou glanced up at Link suspiciously. 

“What do you want, extra?” Link rolled his eyes at the boys abrasiveness.

‘I know it’s not my business, but Midoriya’s my friend and I think if you’d stop being such an insufferable child then maybe you could be too, so I wanted to warn you. The kind of cruelty you showed off today wasn’t heroic, and if you keep acting like that eventually you’re gonna get kicked out. You were practically trying to kill Midoriya today, for something that’s not his fault. He’d never want to hurt you, so why would you want to do that to him?’ Bakugou skimmed the note quickly, scowl deepening. 

“You’re right, it’s not your business. What I do to weak, lying little nerds isn’t any of your concern.” He growled, standing and walking towards the door, shoulder-checking Link as he did. Link grabbed his arm as he passed, locking eyes with him and signing something he was sure even Bakugou would understand. 

‘I’m watching you.’ 

Bakugou yanked his arm away roughly, slipping past the group waiting for Midoriya to return from the infirmary and out the door. Link frowned. He’d been hoping that Bakugou would’ve been at least a little remorseful, maybe even understanding of Link’s concerns about the path he was on. With that idea thrown out the window, he at least hoped Bakugou would take his threat seriously. He didn’t exactly have any ill will for the guy, but he wasn’t gonna let his friend get bullied anymore. 

“Link?” He turned, seeing Yaoyarozu watching him with a somewhat concerned expression. “Are you alright? You seem upset.” Link shrugged somewhat sadly, handing over the paper he’d written the notes on, with one addition. 

‘He said that “What he did to weak, lying little nerds wasn’t my concern.”’ Yaoyarozu read the paper over quickly, frowning at the last addition. 

“You were… maybe a bit harsh, in your wording. But correct nonetheless.” She sighed, taking in his dejected expression. 

“If you think there’s a bullying problem here, you could take it to Aizawa? He’d know how to deal with it.” She offered. Link shook his head. 

‘Aizawa doesn’t exactly like Midoriya, so I don’t know that he’d step in. And even if he would, I’m not looking to ruin Bakugou’s chance at being a hero, I just want him to stop being such a relentless ass. Plus, Midoriya would only get mad at me. He doesn’t seem to see a problem with Bakugou’s behavior, not like everyone else does.’ She nodded, reluctantly agreeing. 

“Then the only thing you can do is leave it alone for now. If it gets worse, I’ll come talk to Aizawa with you myself.” Link smiled at her assurance. 

“What are you talking to Aizawa about?” Another classmate, Tsuyu, stepped in, curious at what she’d overheard. Link and Yaoyarozu shared a glance, and when Link shrugged noncommittally she spoke. 

“We’re a bit concerned about Bakugou’s behavior. We were considering talking to Aizawa about it if it got any worse, considering the one he’s actually targeting won’t.” 

“I noticed that too. He seems kinda villain-like.” Tsuyu said, taking a seat on the desk between the other two. 

‘He could be a good hero if he’d just calm down. I doubt he even knows what he’s angry about half the time.’ The girls waited patiently for his response, and he smiled gratefully. He was used to getting left behind in conversations, so this was a nice change. 

“You’re probably right. Maybe-” Yaoyarozu started, only to be cut off by a few cheers from the other kids as Midoriya walked in, with his arm in a cast but otherwise not too worse for wear. They crowded around him, showering him with praise for his quick thinking during the simulation, and he blushed bright as he attempted to brush it off as nothing. 

“Hey, where’s Bakugou?” Midoriya asked, and Link’s brows furrowed in concern. 

“He left just a minute ago, looking all pissed about something.” Kirishima explained with his usual grin, and Midoriya excused himself quickly, running out in the direction Bakugou had left. 

“You’d think he’d want to avoid Bakugou after what happened, not run after him.” Tsuyu commented. Link nodded in agreement. 

“Whatever he wants to talk about, it must be important.” Yaoyarozu murmured. 

The three talked for a few minutes longer, exchanging numbers before they all finally headed out. Once they were off the topic of Bakugou and Midoriya, he’d found that the two were actually pretty fun, though each reserved in their own ways. Momo, as he’d been asked to call her, had a very refined, charismatic personality, and Tsu was very blunt, but also well-meaning and even funny when she wanted to be. 

He was proud of himself, honestly. Making friends had never come easy to him, too shy and, admittedly, stand-offish to really get close to anyone. His unwillingness to speak certainly didn’t help him either. But his classmates here seemed kind, actually interested in him and what he thought. 

He glanced up towards the sky, taking in the gradient hues of orange, pink, and navy blue, sun already disappeared past the treeline. It was beautiful, but he felt like it was incomplete somehow. He didn’t know why, but he’d always felt like that.

He got to the train station just in time to board, mind still fixated on the, to him, unnatural emptiness of the sky, forever missing some crucial piece that he could never know.

[universalfanfic]

This is IT. This is all I’m writing! Don’t even @ me. 

I also did 15 minutes of research before I decided I didn’t care. So if you’re a former president’s child, I’m sorry. 

Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. They’re ideas intrinsic to American values and way of life. 

From children we’re taught there’s freedom of choice and freedom in future. We look out to the stretching wilderness spanning the country and see challenge. See a facet of ourselves. 

From sea to sea there’s wood and desert and farm and city. Opportunity and loss, friend and stranger. There’s room to be reckless and pockets to play it safe. We thirst from a young age for that freedom, that potential. We reach short arms and stubby fingers out and out, towards the promises of our parents, desperate to grasp some of it for ourselves. We reach and strive, until we’re capable of grabbing a bit of it. We hold it close to our hearts. Fiercely defend our fair share.

Freedom. Choice. Self.

And then your mom and step-dad tell you that you have to move back in with them.

[]

“Are you kidding me?”

Sutton glared at her parents and let the scathing look slide over to the two hulking men in the corner of the room.

“You know we aren’t, Sutton,” her mother said.

Her mother stood primly next to her husband, the newly elected President of the United States, and smoothed out the skirt suit she’d adopted ever since Howard plunged completely into running campaign races. Sutton felt like she was at a board meeting.

There was a long-suffering sigh faintly hidden behind her words and Sutton didn’t think it was earned. She wasn’t the one making ridiculous demands.

“With Howard in office we’re all in the spotlight.” Her mother continued. “And with the political climate like it is, we can’t take risks-“

“I’m not part of this,” Sutton insisted. “I’m not even Howard’s biological kid! If anyone needs a bodyguard it’s Tyrese, not me.”

“We’re a family,” Howard cut in, calm and unfazed, as usual. “Which means you could still be a target for people. I’m afraid this isn’t a negotiable issue.”

Sutton stood from her chair and paced a few steps around the office.

“No, don’t you use your politician voice on me. I’m not doing this. I’m not derailing my life. You’re trying to demand I not only get daily surveillance, but move? Into the White House?”

“There’s already been one threatening altercation.” Howard fiddled with his cufflink, a sure sign he was getting irked. “And taxpayers shouldn’t have to cover for additional expenses when-“

“They’ll make me more of a target for people by drawing attention than I would by myself. Look at them!”

They were towering men, especially compared to Sutton’s small frame, and dressed sharply, with tight haircuts that screamed security detail. At the moment, they were doing a decent job of pretending not to be privy to the argument, but Sutton could still make out a thin frown on the blond one’s face.

“I’m a grown woman,” she continued to argue. “What happened to my agency, huh? Besides, you know I don’t do much. Nothing crazy. Consider their well being for a second.” She gestured to the men. “Are you going to subject them to my mundane routine? Don’t do that them.”

Her mother rolled her eyes and Sutton thought she heard one of the men stifle a cough. Howard shot her a look and ran a hand over his hair.

“Sutton,” he said. His tone was sharp and all traces of the placating politician was gone. “Not only am I responsible for caring for this entire country, but I’m also responsible for caring for our family. Both physically and emotionally. If something happened to you because you’re being stubborn, I’d have a whole ‘lotta mess on my hands. You’re moving in and getting the bodyguards. End of story.”

“This is Mr. James Barnes and Mr. Steven Rogers,” her mother said, waving a hand in introduction. “I suggest you get accustomed to them.”

[]

Sutton stomped out of the office without looking behind her to see if she were being followed. She already knew she was. Two large shadows were cast in front of her, dwarfing her own, and she clenched a fist hidden in the pocket of her coat. A petulant attitude, perhaps, but her parents were treating her like a child again anyway.

Like a child who needed babysitters to make sure they stayed out of trouble.

She scoffed under her breath.

A potential target.

As if. She had coworkers who probably didn’t know her name and the last time a guy had come up to chat with her he’d been asking for directions, not her number. The idea that she’d ever attract the attention of a terrorist was laughable.

What would her coworkers say when the office had to be cleared by two dudes who looked like posh hitmen? What would her friends think when she showed up to dinner and a movie looking like she’d picked up two uptight gym buddies?

“I hope you didn’t sign up for excitement,” she tossed over her shoulder, “because you’re going to be bored out of your minds.”

Both of their faces were stoic and unfazed. They were probably bored already.

“Avoiding excitement is generally the goal, miss.”

Sutton quirked a brow at the brunette one, James, and tipped her head.

“Get ready for some gold stars, then.”

If they found her annoying or amusing, she couldn’t tell. They reminded her of those British guards tourists liked to try and pester. Expressionless. Robotic.

Wonderful. They were going to have lots of fun.

[]

She hadn’t even joined in on the campaign when Howard had been traveling from state to state. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t want anything to do with politics, yet here she was being dragged into it.

Maybe she could’ve really put her foot down. Said, No. But then she’d be daily haunted by how much extra she was costing the country by being selfish. That, and her mother would most likely take care to remind her of it.

Do you remember how Howard is striving to lessen the burden on middle class taxpayers? It’s a shame we can’t help with that.

All of her things were packed and moved into the White House by the next day. Sutton hardly got to label any of the boxes, and she wondered how much they were going to shove into storage as a swarm of workers left with all of her stuff.  

She stood on the curb of her old apartment complex and tapped a foot in irritation as she watched the u-haul disappear into traffic. Her two new shadows were lurking behind her yet again.

Sutton tugged on the sleeve of her jacket, adjusted her purse, and still refused to look behind her. It wasn’t their fault they were assigned to her. It wasn’t their fault she was in this situation. But she still held on to the flimsy fantasy that if she didn’t look they’d just sort of… disappear.

“Are you ready to go, Ms. Regan?”

Taking a steadying breath, Sutton slowly let her head turn over her shoulder as she finally faced her new reality. Steve pulled a set of keys from his pocket and began heading for a black SUV parked on the curb. James followed him and opened the back door, holding it open and staring at her expectantly. Sutton pursed her lips.

“So do I not get to drive anymore either?”

James only tilted his head further towards the car, expression unchanging. Sutton rolled her head over her neck and pressed her lips into a thin smile.

“Alright then.”

He shut the door for her and moved to the passenger’s seat. Steve already had the car started and waited until they’d both buckled before pulling out onto the road.

A thick silence settled over the car as they drove. Sutton tapped her fingers on her knee and stared out the window. Her security didn’t appear to be bothered by the lack of conversation. But then, they hadn’t looked bothered by anything so far. It was probably part of the job qualifications.

“So, is this one of those things where I try talking to you two only to get the silent treatment because professionalism?”

“You can talk all you like, Ms. Regan,” said James. Sutton rolled her eyes.

“You can call me Sutton, you know. I’m not the one who’s taking office.”

James glanced back briefly, once again belying no specific emotion.

“Of course, Ms. Regan.”

Sutton narrowed her eyes and let out a breathy huff. She could almost swear there was an amused lilt in his voice. Almost.

“Fine, Mr. Barnes. So lovely to chat with you.” Her gaze slid over to the driver’s seat and she fought back a smile as she stared at the back of Steve’s head.

“You too, Mr. Rogers. How’s the neighborhood?”

Steve glanced back at her through the rearview mirror. It wasn’t quite scathing, but he certainly didn’t look like he was faking being unamused.

“The grounds around the White House are secure,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll be able to settle in quite well.”

Her brows actually shot up at that. Wow. Low blow.

“Oh, I can tell we’re gonna be great friends.”

She gave them a saccharine smile and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

Maybe if they’d been more agreeable, she would’ve invited them to run errands with her that evening.

Too bad.

[themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy]

What is the outsiders? So that I'm knowledgable

HOOOOOO LETS GO!!! So the outsiders is a novel written by S.E. Hinton in 1967 about a neighborhood that has been taken over by gangs. You have the socs who are the ‘spoiled rich kids’and the greasers, the more hoodlum type. The novel focuses on a gang of seven greasers, more specifically three of them, as things finally get pushed too far with the social statuses. I want you to read the book, so I’m not going to spoil anything, but I will introduce you to the greasers and show you what they looked like in the movie. :)

So the book opens with a famous line that was supposed to be written by the main character, Ponyboy Curtis.

Fourteen at the time, Ponyboy Michael Curtis was described as having “light-brown, almost-red hair and greenish-gray eyes,” and wears his hair “longer than a lot of boys wear theirs, squared off in the back and long at the front and sides.”

He is portrayed as the sensitive one in the book, a writer and a lover of watching sunsets. At one point in the book, he recites the poem, “Nothing Gold Can Stay” by Robert Frost. The line, “Stay Gold Ponyboy” comes from this.

He also, throughout the course of the book, is seen to fight quite often with his oldest brother, Darry.

Next we have his slightly older brother, Sodapop Curtis.

Sodapop Patrick Curtis is sixteen years of age while the events of the book are taking place, and he is the middle Curtis child. He is described by his brother Ponyboy as being happy-go-lucky, but we also know that as much as Ponyboy loved Sodapop, (he was described as his favorite person!), he really didn’t know all that much about his struggles.

We find out later in the book that his girlfriend, Sandy, is pregnant with another man’s child, and leaves the town to raise the baby, even though Sodapop was willing to raise the child as his own with her through marriage.

Sodapop works at a gas-station, the DX, and we find out that he has dropped out of school to help his older brother pay the bills since the car-wreck that killed their parents.

Now for the oldest Curtis brother, Darrel.

Darrel Shaynne Curtis of 20 is the oldest brother and therefore legal guardian of the Curtis brothers. His hair is said to be like his father’s- dark brown that sticks out in the front of his head with a cowlick in the back. His eyes "are like two pieces of pale blue-green ice.” He is said to look exactly like his father, but with different eyes. Also, he looks older than his actual age, which is twenty. Ponyboy says he would be better looking if his eyes weren’t so cold.

That was stolen from the outsiders wiki page, but only because I couldn’t find his physical description from the book. He is the brother that Ponyboy is seen to fight with a lot, but not sibling fights, more in a way you would fight with a parent, grades and curfew and such. Seeing as after they are orphaned, Darrel becomes their legal guardian, this style of fight makes sense.

Now we’re going to move on to the other members of their gang of friends, ones that aren’t related.

Dallas Tucker Winston is the tough one.

As much as we want him to become sensitive in the end, he really doesn’t change as a person. He breaks, and there were severe consequences from this breaking. He isn’t ever really able to experience love from anyone, the kid with a tragic backstory, horrendously abusive parents, and little to no will to live. He is seen as a player, but it’s important to remember that he wasn’t just a horny teen. He was pissed when his girlfriend used to cheat on him, so that makes me think that he really wouldn’t be the cheating type. He was vital to the story though, the book would have only been about thirty pages had he not been there to help. Although he was raised on the harsh streets of New York, he seems to offer helpful advice, albeit somewhat extreme.

In the book, Dallas Winston is said to have an elfish face with high cheekbones, a pointed chin, small, sharp animal teeth, and ears like a lynx. Dally didn’t like haircuts nor hair oil, so his almost white-blonde hair fell over his forehead in wisps. He had blazing blue eyes which Ponyboy describes as “cold with all the hatred in the world.”

Steven Lucas Randle is Sodapop’s best friend and co-worker at the gas station.

(This is my favorite picture of him, only Steve could look that hot while having chocolate cake smeared across his face whoop)

Steve is seen as hating Ponyboy, and most people hate him for this. It is my personal opinion that Steve sees how Ponyboy takes Soda for granted, sees how Soda’s problems are ignored while Pony’s are discussed, and resents the child itself rather than the issue. 

It is also important to remember that Steve is only a part time worker, and still regularly attends school. Steve has an abusive father and has a girlfriend, Evie, who we do not get to see. 

Keith Mathews, or, “Two-Bit” is seen as the comic relief.

I believe he is more than that. He is shown to truly be concerned when Ponyboy is dangerously on edge, and is known to hide his depression with jokes. He has a younger sister, but we do not get to see her either. 

He is an alcoholic, chocolate cake lover, kleptomaniac and from what we know, A VERY MESSY BOI. He is eighteen and in junior year, and just likes to go to school for the hell of it.

He loves Mickey Mouse with all of his soul man it’s intense. His shirts in the movie are often Mickey shirts and he is seen to go to the movies and make a game of flipping girl’s skirts up, not to mention he is great at impressions, making Ponyboy and Johnny believe for a second that he was an angry soc coming to hurt them.

He is said to have a thing for blondes, although the girl that he hit on, in the movie at least, was a brunette. He was around six feet tall, stocky in build, and was very proud of his long, rust-colored sideburns. He has grey eyes and was always wearing a wide grin.

Now for the “kicked puppy” of the group, Johnny Cade.

I’m going to start off by saying that he has ridiculously abusive parents. His house is shown at one point and you can hear screaming from inside. He goes up to the front door to turn in for the night and is shoved back out, his mother behind him with a broom, screaming about how he shouldn’t be there.

He is also amazingly caring, the only one Ponyboy can really talk to, and I believe he is the only person that Dallas Winston loved, that’s why he broke. 

 "Johnny was smaller than the rest, with a slight build. He had big black eyes in a dark tanned face; his hair was jet-black and heavily greased and combed to the side, but it was so long that it feel in shaggy bangs across his forehead. He always had a nervous, suspicious look in his eye. Johnny reminded Ponyboy of a little puppy that had been kicked too many times. Because of his parents, and the socs abuse, and all of the trouble that comes from being a greaser, he is extremely jumpy and when Two-Bit scares them at the movies, mentioned above, he physically jumps and Keith has to calm him down a bit.

All in all, the outsiders is fabulous and go read it thank you for coming to my ted talk

[ellanainthetardis]

prompt: effie knows that haymitch has a thing for brunettes so she considers dying her hair, but haymitch stops her and tells her that he does actually like brunettes but they don't compare to her and that he really loves her blond hair

Here you go [X]

Friendly Opinion

Effie sipped her champagne slowly, aware thatshe needed to stop now before she became downright tipsy. Haymitch had beensteadily knocking down glass after glass and, if he was yet to show any sign ofdrunkenness, she wasn’t ready to risk both of them being intoxicated at once.

She crossed her legs deliberately slowly – forthe benefit of the sponsor who had been eyeing her for half an hour – wishingthose stools were less tricky to maneuver. She could have moved over to a tablethough, she was sure finding someone she knew at that party wouldn’t have beenhard… The club was buzzing with too loud music, it was the latest place to beand she usually enjoyed it well enough, but that night it was packed withpotential sponsors and Games’ teams on the hunt for money.

Sitting at the bar alone, looking available anda little bored, had seemed like a safe bet. She had caught the attention of afew men and women but, truth be told, people were more interested in chattingher up than offering their money.

Her eyes toured the building, passing over thecrowded dance floor with its pink and green blinking neon lights to check thefirst floor’s walkways. Haymitch was still where he had been standing for thelast hour, as far from the speakers as he could physically get. Chaff haddeserted him though. He was staring at something – or rather, as she quicklydiscovered, someone – and she followedhis gaze to where Alina Grave was making a quick but efficient job ofrecruiting sponsoring offers.

Eight’s victor had come back to mentoring acouple of years earlier and Effie still wished that this particular Districtwould rotate mentors more often.

She looked back at Haymitch to find him stillstaring and she pouted, taking another sip of her champagne. She studied Alinafrom afar. She could see the appeal, in truth. She was around Haymitch’s age,in her mid-thirties or so, and she looked verygood. She was attractive, very attractive,and the tight dresses Eight’s stylists always had her wearing were definitelyworking for her. Her stomach wasn’t as flat as one could have wished, true, butthat was what you got for giving birth, Effie figured. All in all, she could have been tempted so shecompletely understood Haymitch’s apparent fascination for the woman. Alinacertainly had the spirits he liked in women.

Plus, they hadhad some sort of affair she didn’t quiteknow the specifics of.

She wasbeautiful.

However, Effie was too.

The only thing Alina had going that Effiedidn’t – aside for the very small matter of the two them coming from the sameworld when she belonged to a placeHaymitch hated – was the hair color. She had noticed before. And she had piecedit together from the various comments he and his ridiculous best friend hadmade over the years.

He liked dark-haired girls.

And Effie was very much a blonde.

He was adamant he hated the wigs and loved herhair but it left her puzzled. How could he love her hair if she was blond andhe was into brunettes? She wasn’t fond of her natural hair to begin with. Hermother would have had it dyed permanently in her teenage years if it had beenleft to her and, for once, that was probably something Effie could have agreedon. Her hair was awful. Unpracticalwild curls of an insipid color.

She liked wigs because it allowed her to switchhairstyles and hair colors every few days without any damages but she did liked dying her head a vibrant pinkor purple sometimes. Never when Haymitch was in the city though. He would havemade fun of her and it would have probably been one of those times when he wascrueler than she wanted to deal with.

He didn’t like pink or purple.

He liked dark hair.

He was always eager to have his way with her whenshe had dark colored wigs on and he never asked her to remove those. He wasparticularly fond of the black one trimmed with gemstones cut into a short bobthat made her look impish.

He likeddark hair.

And shedidn’t have dark hair.

And he didn’t like her keeping her wigs whenthey were having sex.

She couldn’t help but draw a parallel as to whyhe was staring at another woman with dark hair he had slept with in the past.

She pondered the question as she fished acigarette out of her clutch and wedged it between her green painted lips – adark shade that went very well with the crimson wig tied into a puffy side bun,if she did say so herself. She didn’t have time to look for her lighter. Thesponsor who had been eyeing her lit it for her before she even reached for herpurse again.

He remarked it was a shame for a lovelycreature like her to be sitting alone.

She countered that the bar was where the mostinteresting people were, case in point.

And just like that the flirting was on. Shesmiled and laughed and said every right thing she needed to say, everything hewanted to hear.

He was old and wealthy and he had actuallypledged himself to Twelve once over three years earlier – because, shesuspected, he had a soft spot for her – but they never had any opportunities touse his money because their tributes had died too soon. She didn’t actuallysecure a sponsor offer but he promised to think about it if she promised tothink about having dinner with him. It was a proposition she wouldn’t run pastHaymitch, knowing full well what he would have had to say about it. As for taking it now… She would think aboutthat later.

Her cigarette had long been crushed in theashtray the bartender had pushed in front of her with a worried look for hisgleaming counter and she searched for another one as soon as the sponsor wasgone.

“You keep saying you’re quitting.”

Her lips stretched into a smile and she gaveHaymitch a small shrug as he commandeered the stool the sponsor had justvacated.

“I am a stress smoker.” she claimed.

“Must be stressed all the time, then.” hesnorted, lifting his voice a little to be heard over the music. He gestured thebartender over, ordering a whiskey and a margarita. She was a little impressedhe knew what sort of drinks she wanted without her having to specify. “OldVinian’s eyes were glued to your boobs, sweetheart. Careful. You don’t want to givehim a stroke or something.”

“He might sponsor us.” she informed him.

“Yeah, and pigs might grow wings and start to flytomorrow.” he mocked, grabbing his glass and pushing hers closer to her.

“At least,I made some contacts.” she sighed, wishing the music wasn’t so loud. It wasperfectly alright for a fun evening out but it wasn’t at all practical for theplanning they needed to do to chase after sponsors. “Who did you secure?”

It was a gibe more than anything and he didn’teven pretend not to get the joke. He hadn’t gone out of his way to talk tosponsors, that went without saying.

“Deana still wants a piece of my ass.” hecommented, nodding to a woman who was far too old to be wriggling on the dancefloor the way she was doing. “That counts or what?”

“Unnecessarily crude.” she chided him, wincinga little. “I do not need that visual, Haymitch.”

“Jealous, are you?” he taunted.

She was unfortunately unable to answer thatbecause of her untimely sipping of her margarita. They drank for a few minutes,foregoing conversation. He kept checking his watch every thirty seconds.

She bore it as long as she could. “You are beingrude. One does not make a lady feel like they are bored or not worth theirtime. If you have plans with someone else, simply apologize and be on yourway.”

He lifted his eyebrows, irritation flashing onhis face. “Just wondering how long it’s gonna take you to finish that drink sowe can leave. That’s my plan.”

“Oh.” she said, her cheeks burning withembarrassment. “We cannot leave yet. Everyone else is still trying to findsponsors…”

“We’re never getting sponsors and our kids arenever making it out even if we do.” he spat, somber.

“You do not knowthat.” she retorted, annoyed by his constant pessimism.

“Nineteen years of experience say I do.” hedeadpanned, downing the rest of his drink. “Look, stay or go, I don’t care.Keep the car. I’ll walk back.”

He was gone before she could even blink. Shewas slower in getting up – because her dress was short and unpractical althoughvery pretty, and her clutch wouldn’tclose properly – and thus she only caught up with him at the end of the street.

She didn’t want to call out to him like afishmonger so she had no choice but to walk fast – almost at a run – which wasnever easy on towering heels. She had all the troubles in the world looking dignified.

“I hope you know I never run after men.” shehuffed once she was standing next to him.

She suspected he had slowed down his pace soshe could actually catch up.

“And I hadto be the exception.” he grumbled. “You couldn’t annoy someone else.”

He didn’t protest when she looped her arm underhis, which told her he wasn’t really mad, just a bit drunk and probablyfrustrated. Their tributes’ odds didn’t look good if the first couple of daysof training were anything to go by.

“You will miss me when I get promoted and youknow it.” she teased with a bright smile.

That promotion she had kept talking about sincethe very first year, the one that would neverhappen. As they were both aware.  

She was too good at her job, too good athandling him. He had been goingthrough an escort a year before she had walked in, either harassing them intoquitting or sleeping with them and then acting like a jerk. He had beenimpossible, a real pain for the Head Gamemaker, and Twelve’s paperwork hadnever been done on time. Then, she had been hired and everything had changed.He was still impossible but she had her tricks to make him behave a little moreproperly. He was still a pain but he tended to annoy her and not the Gamemakersbecause he found it funnier. As for Twelve’s paperwork, it had long become her responsibility. She did most of hisjob in addition to hers, this way they were up to spar and everyone was happy.She was too good. They would never promote her and  risk going back to the wreck Twelve had beenbefore.

When Haymitch was furious with her – or theworld – he liked tossing that in her face. But sometimes, he humored her.

“Picked your next District already?” hechuckled. “’Cause I heard Three’s retiring soon…”

“I was thinking about Eight actually.” shecountered. “Their team seemed to be doing really well tonight.”

She guided them deeper in the city, throughsmaller pedestrian streets that would hopefully cut the walking time in half.What a ridiculous idea to walk whenthey had car with a driver at their disposal. Her shoes would kill her longbefore they reached the Center. They were masterpieces. They weren’t meant tobe walked in.

“Maybe.” he shrugged. “Didn’t pay attention.”

She pouted at the obvious lie. “Alina lookslovely.”

“Subtle.” he snorted, as they were reachingMain Square. He steered them toward streets that paralleled the square – sothey wouldn’t get caught in the middle of a crowd who would request autographsand pictures, she presumed.

“For someone who was not paying attention youlooked at her a great deal.” she huffed. “That is all I am saying.”

And that was plentyalready.

“So what? You spied on me the whole night?” hescowled, hurrying his pace and forcing her to lengthen her steps to keep up.The City Circle was in sight and she would be relieved once they would reachthe Games’ compound, her feet hurt.

“I happened to notice you were staring at her alot.” she deflected. “I checked that you were not getting drunk, I was not spying.”

“Kind of falls into my definition of spying.” he muttered.

“Well, then. I will happily buy you a newdictionary.” she retorted. “You do not need to answer me since it is clearly asensitive topic. I shall never ask about Alina Grave again.”

“Good.” he snapped. “’Cause that’s none of yourfucking business, Trinket.”

“No need to be rude.” she hissed.

She had trouble keeping up with his strides soshe unlocked their arms and went at her own pace. He walked on for a minute orso and then stopped, hands buried in his pockets, waiting for her. He offeredhis arm again once she reached him, not once looking at her. She took itwithout a word, happy to notice he slowed his steps to accommodate her.

“The sponsor she was talking to was handsy.” hemuttered once they reached the middle of the City Circle and the Training Centerwas looming ahead. “She could have broken that guy’s wrist, sure, but she’s gota family… I’ve got no one they can punish for punching a Capitol. She’s myfriend. I was looking out for her, that’s all. Not that it’s any of your business.”

She relaxed a little but kept her featuresschooled into detachment. “I said Iwould never ask again.”

“Yeah, well… You didn’t ask, I offered.” hescoffed.

“She is very attractive, though.” she hummed.

He rolled his eyes. “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” she asked, sounding every bit aspuzzled as she wasn’t.

“Comparing.” he spat. “That’s bullshit, Effie. I ain’t going to feedyour ego.”

She eyed him from under her fake eyelashes,trying to read him. “My ego does notrequire feeding.”

“Finally,we can agree on something.” he taunted. “Warn Caesar. He can probably squeezeus into the morning special.”

It was lucky for him they reached the Centerjust at that moment. There was a group of people at the doors, like always, and,for a moment, she lost herself in the necessary act of waving, smiling, andsigning.

Haymitch was in the lobby well before shemanaged to make her escape. She barely had time to slid between the closingdoors of the elevator or he would have gone up without her.

“You could have waited.” she rebuked.

“Thought your ego would need an empty elevator,sweetheart…” he mocked. “It’s so big.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, lips pursed, andtilted her head to the side, giving a pass to the crude joke he was obviouslyexpecting. She patted her wig instead, keeping her gaze riveted to the flashingnumbers that indicated the floors.

At eight, she cleared her throat.

“May I ask your opinion on something?” sheinquired.

“Sure.” he shrugged.

“Without  you making fun of me?” she insisted.

His smirk should have been outlawed. It was fartoo sexy for something so smug and disrespectful.

“Now, I’m curious.” he confessed. “Shoot,Princess.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was simply consideringa new hairstyle earlier but I cannot forthe life of me decide if it is a good idea or not.”

“Hairstyle?” He made a face. “You mean yourreal hair?”

“Yes.” she nodded. “I was thinking…”

“No pink.” he almost begged. “And don’t cut it.Not that I care. Or have an opinion.” He rubbed the back of his neck,embarrassed and uncomfortable with the conversation. “’Cause I don’t.”

It was lucky she was such a good actressbecause keeping herself from grinning was difficult.

“I was thinking about becoming a brunette.” shedeclared.

If possible, he winced even more. “What for?”

“Why not?” she replied cheerfully. “You do like dark-haired women, don’t you?Wouldn’t you like it better if…”

“We don’t do that kind of stuff.” he cut heroff, just as the elevator chimed to signal they had reached the penthouse. “Iain’t shaving for you. You don’t need to dye your hair for me.”

“It would not be for you.” she answered flatly. “I am asking for your opinion as afriend. I have had the same boring hairstyle since forever and…”

“What’s wrong with it?” he grumbled. “I like yourhair.”

“But it is blond and you like brunettes.” shebreathed out with frustration. “Shouldn’t you…”

“It looks reddish with the right light.” hemumbled. “And it’s real. I don’t like fake anything.”He rolled his eyes. “I like yourhair.” 

He looked upset at the thought that she woulddestroy it with black dye so she helplessly lifted her hands and then droppedthem. “Alright then. I simply wanted your opinion. As a friend.”

“Well, that’s my opinion.” he scowled.

“Good.” she nodded, pushing the button thatwould open the doors that had long closed, given their hesitancy to step out,and then gesturing in the vague direction of her room. “I will go to bed.”

“Yeah. Good.” he acknowledged, not looking ather. “I’m gonna hit the liquor cart.”

She was neither surprised nor alright with thatbut she didn’t try to stop him.

She was too busy running to her room, fightingoff as smile.  

[hollywoodx4]

Sticking with the Schuylers (12)

In this part, the Schuyler sisters have a busy schedule...

1  2  3  4  5  6   7   8   9   10   11

A delicate, floral-adorned planner lays open on a wooden desk. Typically pristine, it is now littered with layers of letters and scattered clothing, mismatched socks and a bouquet of sunflowers just beginning their first signs of wilt. On one clear corner a lit candle lets off a pleasant floral scent, a juxtaposition to the clear beginning signs of chaos that have begun to erupt.

               “9 A.M – Meet A. and P. Going to B&B for fitting and photos

               11:45 A.M – Brunch with Dad, Mayor, others…

                               -Dr. Leighton does not like children-avoid topic

                               -Mr. Thren is remarried, ask about Molly, not Susan

                               -Mrs. Linley has possible connections, network…”

               A soft chuckle can be heard from her desk chair, where Alex has his sock-clad feet up on the last spare inch of desk space. From her place by her closet Elizabeth Schuyler’s glossy hair flips over her shoulder as she spins to shoot him a frustrated glare.

               “What else?” Her voice is tainted with a twinge of impatience. He shakes his head, holding a finger on his place in her planner.

               “Did you really write all of these personal details in here? Of your dad’s friends’ lives?”

               “Yes!”

               “Topics of conversation?”

               “Kind of,” All he can see now are her arms, flinging dresses of various colors onto the growing pile that has formed on her bed. When the flying fabrics settle she pokes her head back from the closet, fingering the material of a simpler navy blue dress. “I know it might be a little weird but it’s a habit, I do it every time we go out somewhere my dad’s friends will be.”

               “Any reason?”

               “You’re going to die,” She hangs the navy blue dress-on the outside of her bathroom door and makes her way to him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder.

               “Once, we were all at Sunday brunch at                the Waldorf. I was fifteen, Peggy was thirteen, Angelica was nineteen. We’re all kind of doing the usual brunch thing, going around talking to people, and then we get to this one man. We hadn’t seen him at brunch for a while but we’d seen him on our drive to school the Tuesday before, with some tall, lanky brunette. We’d seen him with her before, too, multiple times. So we’re in the middle of socializing with them when this redheaded woman-middle aged, lower heels, looser fitting black dress-comes up and holds his hand. And Peggy, being Peggy, just blurts out ‘I thought your wife would be with you, where’d she go?’ Like, right in front of some Government official.

               “So the redhead,”

               “Was his actual wife! So imagine being the poor redheaded woman wondering what this thirteen year old girl could possibly be talking about, as her husband’s talking himself into circles and she’s near a full-on breakdown in a very public place.”

               He lets out a laugh at this; something about thirteen year-old Peggy being just as unfiltered then as she is now seeming too funny to be true. But then, it has always been her personality. And the way Elizabeth retells the story, eyes widened as if that same horror transferred from the affair-ridden couple to her, captivated his interests. So he sits up, taking his feet away from her desk and leaning his elbows on his knees. Alex glances down at the meticulous writing, lines and lines of detail filling her planner each day of an important event.

               “So these notes,”

               “I just don’t want to see anyone go through that again. The affair was all over Jezebel and Page 6 and then the woman-Colleen, that was her name-had to move because she was basically ostracized by her own people. These people she built these great friendships with. All because her husband was having an affair that we just so happened to catch.”

               “So you write notes.”

               “I write notes.  And in the car on the way to brunch I read them to Angie and Peggy, and there hasn’t been a single public embarrassment since. I won’t let that happen.”

               She doesn’t hear anything else from Alex; she’s hanging clothes back on their hangers, dismantling the pile she’d made in search of a perfect brunch dress. When Eliza finally looks up Alex is looking back at her, shaking his head as a warm smile plays on his handsome features. But when she asks what he’s smiling about he doesn’t respond, merely shrugging his shoulders before sipping the dark coffee he’s brought along.

               Eliza makes her way back across the room to him, taking the coffee from his hands and brushing things aside on her desk so she can set it down. It ends up somewhere between the pile of his opened letters and the sunflowers from their first date but she barely notices; doesn’t have time to with the pace of how quickly her hands have found his cheeks and drawn him in. She settles herself neatly on his lap, his hands finding their home around her waist, and in her hair. Hers in turn roam from his cheeks to the back of his neck, where she attempts to bring him even closer to her although the physical space between them is near to non-existent. All she can feel is security; his gentle hands, the words he whispers when she runs her thumb across the small hairs on the back of his neck. And she’s warmth, sunlight and a coursing, continual glowing that radiates throughout Alexander’s entire body when her vanilla-dusted lips turn up in a contented smile.

               And she’s so happy, so completely blissful, that she doesn’t notice the door of her suite open until someone clears their throat, the sound of bags being dropped on her counter resounding through the nearly silent room. She hops immediately from Alex’s lap, face burning as she takes a breath, smoothing her long-sleeved shirt before turning to face the noise.

               Angelica Schuyler stands with her hands on her hips, shaking her head at the sight in front of her. In true ‘kid-boss’ fashion she immediately intimidates the pair, who look between themselves and her with almost guilty visages. Alexander gets up from Eliza’s desk chair then, grabbing hold of his coffee before nodding at Angelica, his speech rambling and nervous.

               “I should probably get going now, uh, helping clean the apartment for game night. You guys still coming?”

               They nod, Eliza’s quicker and jumpy while Angelica’s is a slow, calculated movement of the head. And her eyes don’t leave his, not when he leans in to peck her sister’s lips, not when he slips on his shoes. No, Angelica Schuyler’s eyes don’t leave her sister’s boyfriend until he’s closed the door of the suite behind him. Then she wheels her gaze rapidly over to her sister, who’s still standing-in her pajamas, might she add, by her desk. Elizabeth is silent, redder than ever and moving slowly toward her closet, where she picks the navy blue dress off of its hanger. She drapes it over the side of her bed and moves to undress herself. Silent, still silent, as her sister crosses her arms over her chest.

               “Elizabeth Schuyler.”

               “What?”

               “Just tell me how you’re feeling right now, just-I’m not here to lecture you but you and I both know….Are you alright?”

               “I’m perfect.”

               “I just wanted to make sure-you feel safe right? You wanted that?”

               “Angelica.” Eliza pauses in her dressing to make eye contact with Angelica. To ensure her of the truth in her words-or to be sure that they’re heard-she’s not sure. Either way her expression comes out somewhere between frustrated or gentle, with the slightest hint of visible pain shooting across them. She sighs. “He’s not-it’s fine. I’m fine. Happy, I’m happy. And Alexander would never,”

               “I know, I know that. I just,”

               “I know.” She’s quiet then, reserved as she fingers the scalloped edging on her dress. And she remembers; his hands on her, the safety she’s felt…the security. “But I don’t want to talk about that right now. I’m finally moving on, Angie. I’m breathing.”

               One moment. A hesitant sigh and two hands wrapping themselves around her. Angelica rubs Eliza’s back before squeezing her once more; gentle, yet firm enough to know that she’s there. That Elizabeth has her in her corner.

               “Okay, fine. For now. But expect Peggy to ask you 1,000 questions once we get in the car, she’s been waiting for us.”

               …

               She doesn’t ask her questions in the car-Peggy Schuyler is glued to her phone when her older sisters finally emerge from the dormitory building, linking arms. She’s unbuckled her seatbelt while the car was parked, both legs swung up to cover the entire back row of seats. Her back is pressed comfortably against the window, head bent down in concentration. She barely bats an eyelash even when they come into the car, only to murmur a quick greeting to her middle sister as her legs are pushed down off the seat and she’s ordered to get her seatbelt on.

               It’s not until they’re at the venue until her questions start flying.

               They’re in the midst of aisles and aisles of beautiful dresses, assorted by color and fabric and things as specific as the type of stitching used to keep it all together. Peggy and Eliza find themselves in the same section, looking at what the store owner and interviewer has directed them to as the ‘mid-range pastels.’ It takes a lot for Peggy not to roll her eyes as she leaves that conversation.

               Eliza’s thumbing through a rack of minty greens when Peggy strides along next to her, humming and feigning her interest in the choices Eliza pulls out. They’d ogle the dress, chat about it a bit, and pose for a photo by the waiting magazine crew before moving on, shouldering the dress apologetically into the waiting arms of an intern. Eliza chats with her, too, taking some of the load from her arms and asking about her job. The blonde-haired intern is stunned but easily keeps up conversation-the brunette’s gentle tone of voice makes it easy for anyone to get along with her, really. But soon they’ve lost the intern to Angelica, who’s in the middle of a solo-interview.

               So they shop in silence for a while, Elizabeth simply enjoying her sister’s company while Peggy bounces on the balls of her feet, eager. She’s holding two pieces-a soft yellow and a more vibrant orange, slung carelessly over one arm. Eliza is more delicate, feeling the fabric before holding the dresses up t to her, considering before either placing it back on the rack or adding it to the pile in her own arms.

               “So, Bets, how was your sleepover?” The middle sister rolls her eyes, shaking her head and leaving her eyes on the rows of dresses.”

               “It was good.” When she refuses to divulge more Peggy presses, stepping in front of her with teasing, mischievous eyes.

               “Just good?”

               “We’re not there yet, Peg. Herc was having a cousin stay over and Alex doesn’t particularly get along with them-something about an argument they had last year? I don’t know. So he came over and we attempted some recipe from Pinterest-well, he attempted. His cooking skills are basically slim to none. And then we started some show on Netflix and went to bed.”

               “You never,”

               “No,” Elizabeth’s tone has turned. Once slightly irritated by her sister’s pushing of the subject, she now finds a strange feeling sitting at the pit of her stomach. The way her little sister seems to be so eager, asking questions and sorting out details…in a way, it reminds her of herself with Angelica at that age. And in every way, that terrifies her.

               “Peggy,” She glances around the room furtively, making sure the cameras and interns and interviewers have truly left them alone. Once she’s sure of their privacy she drapes her dresses across the top of an empty rack, both of her hands finding a gentle place on her little sister’s shoulders. “I want you to know that relationships at this age…at any age, aren’t just about that. And that should never be the focus of anyone’s attention on each other.”

               Peggy’s lips are drawn into a thin line. She brushes her hair back from her face and turns to the rack of clothes, feigning interest in a fiery red dress completely out of her usual aesthetic. Eliza stays next to her, one hand on her back, her voice gentle and soothing.

               “What’s more important is the connection you make with someone. Being able to do things like cook together and laugh over how badly the food came out. Or to just sit in the same room and not have to talk, just to be happy to be together.”

               “That’s easy for you to say. You have that. Angelica? She has that too. And I’m literally over here just being the comedic relief. What if I don’t always want to be just the baby? What if I want that too?”

               “But Peggy I didn’t have that. Angie’s different, her weird romance with John at fifteen was just fate’s twisted way of telling her that that’s what she needed, and when she needed it.” Elizabeth continues to scan the room, praying that their conversation won’t be interrupted until she’s sure she’s said all she needs to. It’s a bit awkward, talking about these things in the middle of a shop in hushed tones underneath the smooth vocals of Jason Mraz. But she keeps on, eyes glazed with a shadow of seriousness as she turns her little sister to face her.

               “When I was your age, I met James. When I was your age I had Angelica and John’s relationship memorized to a T. I loved them, and I wanted that desperately. And I thought that if some handsome older guy ‘coincidentally’ stumbled into my life than that must’ve been the end all be all.” She pauses for a moment, taking a shaky breath before placing a motherly hand on Peggy’s cheek.

               “There is no end-all-be-all in these things, Peggy. You don’t have to decide at eighteen who you want to spend the rest of your life with. Or at twenty-five. Or thirty….I’m twenty, and this thing with Alex is new and exciting but that doesn’t mean that I’m not thinking about myself. Or valuing myself. The most important thing is recognizing how you feel, and when you’re ready. There is no clock on these things, only pressure. But you can ignore pressure, Peg. If any one of us three can it’s you. I rushed into things at eighteen and…well, you know how that went. We all know. I just don’t want you to end up in the same boat that I was in. I want you to know that you can and you should think about yourself first.”

               Peggy’s almost in tears, Eliza is in tears, looking back at her little sister with large brown eyes welled with tears, one spilling over and rolling down her cheek. She chuckles, a sheepish sound as she wipes it away with the back of her hand.

               “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so preachy today, just…just say okay. Say okay, and let me know that you heard me.”

               “Okay.”

               “And you have to mean it. Nobody in your life is more important than you, Margarita Schuyler. Nobody.”

               “Okay. Nobody.” Peggy nods and moves to wrap Eliza in an embrace, placing her head on her shoulder. And when she does, Eliza can feel her little sister’s nerves; her anxiety and the throng of worries that had followed her into the store and clouded her thoughts for quite some time-dissipate.

               They only pull apart when voices approach them, and the intern beckons for Eliza.

               “Your turn for a solo, Elizabeth.”

               “You can call me Eliza,” She smiles at the intern, turning herself back on to public mode. As she leaves she turns back over her shoulder, to give Peggy one last, reassuring smile. And then she’s on again, answering a strain of questions as she pops in and out of the dressing room. Grinning, always grinning as her raised cheekbones begin to strain from the façade of the public eye.

[hekate1308]

Once Upon A September, Chapter Two

Lawrence

Castiel groaned.

Crowley, while apparently unshaken at the spectacle in front of them, was quite as annoyed, if the way he showed the last Dean impersonator the door was anything to go by.

“Dear God, these guys were all pathetic.”

“Maybe you can’t just fake being of noble blood” Cas tried, but Crowley shook his head.

“No, Feathers. I will admit that a little something called dignity is always a plus, and that there is a certain charm one’s either born with or doesn’t have, but surely someone has to know how to play a prince.”

“There’ve been no plays in over eight years. Maybe all actors – “

“Come on. I’m still here, you’re still here. Someone in this godforsaken kingdom has to remember how to act.”

“Republic” he corrected him automatically.

“Not in my house.” Crowley sighed. “I think we should go to the Palace, check out a few of the old family paintings. Maybe if we get someone who looks enough like him, we can train him.”

“He was just a child – “

“Hair and eye colour don’t just change spontaneously when you reach a certain age. Let’s go!”

Castiel followed him because he had nothing else to do.

Lawrence, a few miles away

Michael had no idea what he was doing.

Sure, he knew something as stupid as a black feather had told him to go to Lawrence, but now he was there...

It wasn’t too late yet to return and go to the factory. It wasn’t too late to at least get a job.

But there was something about the city drawing him in.

Drawing him to a specific place.

He ended up standing in front of the old palace. Somehow, he knew exactly how it had looked like back in the days of glory, the days only few dared whisper about; the days of the Winchesters.

Michael had always been fascinated by the former royal family, but not because they had been by all reports excellent kings right until the revolution no one could explain; no, because of the tales of how much the king and queen had loved their children, Prince Dean and prince Sam.

He had always imagined that if he found his family, they would welcome him with as much devotion.

These days, the palace was deserted. Few dared approach it, but no one even looked at Micahel as he approached it.

It was easy to gain access.

Michael strolled through the abandoned corridors, imagining how it must have been, almost a decade ago. Had the princes played in the hallways? Had they been allowed to interact with the other children? Had the king and the queen made sure they saw them at least once a day, despite their many obligations?

He stopped and leaned down to pick up a few pieces of colourful glass. It wasn’t difficult to guess that they came from the window that had been broken by a brick, most likely on the night of the revolution most people wished had never taken place.

The glass still sparkled in the sun whine he held his hand up.

“Mom, what are they doing?”

She smiled at him. “They are renewing our windows... and this time, there’ll be colours.”

“I love colours!”

She chuckled and ran her fingers through his hair. “I know. And once they’re done, you can see the colours dancing across the wall.”

He shook his head, unable to explain where the scene had come from. It happened now and then, faces and rooms popping into his mind and fading away just as quickly. He knew there was no point to hold onto the blonde woman; she would disappear like everything else he’d ever tried to grasp about his past.

Michael continued walking around, unable to explain what he was searching for, but feeling that it was important.

Finally he came into what must have been the throne room. At least it had been called that; the Winchesters had in fact done away with the throne or any royal regalia generations ago, one of their tutors had confided to them one day; King John and Queen Mary had been sitting on simple chairs when they had listened to their subjects’ petitions. But once upon a time, there had a throne, and therefore the room would always be called that.

Even now, with Michael standing amongst the ghosts of a recent past that felt centuries away.

Just like his own.

He slowly made his way through the room the room, walking up to where the royals’ chairs would have stood. They had sat in front of a painting of their family.

The Winchesters and their two beloved sons.

Michael’s eyes scrutinized every single one of them, until he was just starting at the oldest child. Prince Dean.

They must have been about the same age. At least Michael believed he had been ten years old, minus or plus a year or two at the most, when he had been found.

Dean. A good name, really. He didn’t much care for Michael, but it was as good as any other until he found his real one-

“Now, now, what are you doing here?” a voice drawled behind him. He reeled around.

The palace, a few moments earlier

“It looked different back when I was a child.”

“And the prize for the most asinine comment goes to – “

“Not what I meant” Cas mumbled. “It seemed – bigger, that was what I was trying to say.”

“Everything seemed bigger back then.” Crowley pointed at a dark corridor. “That was where the royal suites were located. Dean had his painted all in blue, and with lots of toy carriages. He loved them.”

Castiel was beginning to wonder just how much time Crowley had spent in the palace before the revolution. As a kitchen boy, he’d never been informed about the guests of the King.

“The kitchens are then other way” he replied. “I always enjoyed cooking.”

The revolution had hit his whole family hard. The income the children had provided – he and Gabriel had both been working in the palace, although his happy-go-lucky brother had been a page rather than a kitchen boy – had disappeared over night, just like their tutors and their hopes of something better for all of them.

“Don’t look like that” Crowley scolded him. “Things are looking bleak, I grant you that. But either you are like all the other sheep and just drudge along, or you try to do something better.”

“I don’t think betraying a family’s hope is necessarily – “

“Details, Feathers, useless details.”

They had reached the throne room, where the old family painting was still hanging from a wall, five happy faces staring at nothing.

Or rather, someone.

Crowley reacted first.

Now

It was a good thing Castiel wasn’t alone, because he was looking at one of the most gorgeous men he had ever seen.

He had long been aware of his desires, and thankfully people like him were no longer persecuted in Lawrence; not even Metatron had dared change the Winchesters’ policy of live and let live.

“Aren’t you pretty” Crowley mused. “I have to say, for a burglar you give a girl all sorts of naughty ideas.”

“If I’m a burglar, you tow are as well” the main answered smoothly.

“What an astute observation, I can tell we – “ Crowley began but stopped abruptly, frowning. His eyes flew from the young man (maybe two or three years younger than Castiel, but why he registered that, he couldn’t say) to the painting and back again, and it didn’t take Castiel long to realize what he was thinking about.

The man had vibrant green eyes and brunette hair, like the boy Castiel remembered leading through the palace as it had been destroyed.

Crowley cleared his throat. “I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot. Name’s Crowley, this is Castiel. Who are you?”

He looked at them, clearly suspicious, but seemed to decide to risk it. “Michael.”

“Michael and?”

“And nothing. I don’t ask about your first name either.”

“Castiel is my first name.”

It was the only thing to say he could think of.

Michael – somehow, the name didn’t seem to suit him, like a piece of clothing a number too small – snorted. “Alright. So, last name?”

“Novak.”

“What about you, creepy guy?”

“No one has ever heard my first name and lived, my dear.”

“Not your dear.”

Crowley suddenly stepped up to him to scrutinize him. To his credit, Michael didn’t step back.

“What the hell – “

“Anyone ever tell you that you bear an uncanny resemblance to the lost Prince?”

He laughed, but it was not a nice laugh, not a happy laugh, not one Castiel wanted to hear from this beautiful person ever again.

“What is this going to be? Some “make a poor schmuck believe he’s actually a prince” joke? This ain’t Cinderella, pal. My own folks didn’t like me enough to stick around and I ended up in a hospital with no idea who I was. Still don’t know. So if you could kindly – “

“He’s got spunk. That’s good” Crowley mused as if he hadn’t heard him, “Dean was only ten years old, but you could already tell he’d be trouble when he grew up.”

“What – you knew the Prince?”

“Crowley” Castiel said resignedly, “Knew everyone. Still does.”

Crowley smirked. “Remember that.”

“I will – look, guys, I really don’t care, so I will just – “

“Now, now, not so fast” Crowley said, reaching out for him.

Michael answered by shoving him to the side.

“Alright, alright” he raised his hands. “No touching. More’s the pity, but as you wish.”

Michael huffed. “What do you want?”

“You see, we’re in a bit of trouble – “

“You are” Castiel said firmly.

“Come on, fathers, we’re in this together.”

“Because you decided we are.”

“Alright guys can you do anything else than bicker for half a minute? This one” Dean pointed at Crowley, “Clearly has an offer of some sort to make, and right now I’ve got nothing – I might even be desperate enough to take it.”

It was music to Crowley’s ears, no doubt, but Castiel would rather not have involved someone who looked so pure in their scheme.

“Just hear me out. I am guessing you are not the biggest fan of our president either?”

“How do you know that?” Michael asked, his eyes narrowing. Naturally, he was suspicious. Metatron’s agents were everywhere.

If Crowley hadn’t had his own reasons to want him gone, Cas could have easily imagined he’d have been one of them.

“Because you’d hardly be here, staring adoringly at a picture of the royal family if you were an admirer of his?”

“I wasn’t staring adoringly” Michael muttered, “I was looking at it. I was curious.”

“My point exactly. Now, here’s the thing. The one who has a right to the throne – the one who could kick Metatron out – is Prince Dean.” Crowley gestured towards the portrait. “Prince Sam will never be seen as having a better right to the crown until it is proven that his brother is dead, and that’s practically impossible. And the family has been looking for Dean ever since he disappeared. So we thought we’d find someone who looked like him – “

“An imposter, you mean” Michael said.

“Exactly. Hell, we could even be open about it with the royal family – I am sure they are eager to get rid of the president.”

Castiel wasn’t sure Crowley was telling the truth. He certainly wanted the money the Winchesters were ready to pay.

On the other hand, he really hated Metatron, so who knew? It would be just like him to keep his real motives a secret, too.

“So you want me to do what? Play the Prince? I have no idea what to do! I don’t even know with which fork to eat dessert!”

“That can easily be arranged. We only need you to be believable for a few months. Then you can step down and let Prince Sam have the throne.”

Any sane person, Castiel knew, would say no. And yet, despite everything, he desperately wanted him to come with them.

Michael blinked. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but fine. I’m in.”

[bestlivesexwebcams]

Is Cams.com a perfect match for a horny man? You bet!

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Who, What, When, Why, How?

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How Does This Work?

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Who’s on the Site?

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What’s in It for Me?

This site has a bunch of user-friendly features that we found awesome. One of the best and most notable features of the Cams.com site is the Interactive option offered on the main page. This allows customers and models to take their “relationship” to the next level. We’ve mentioned it once before but we’ve got to say it again, this part of the puzzle is exactly what the industry needs.

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The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

We try to be as thorough as possible when it comes to divulging the good, the bad, and the ugly of these live sex cam websites. Since many of them are quite similar, we sometimes find it difficult to discern between choices. When it came to Cams.com, however, we noticed glaring differences right away. Now, that’s not to say that Cams.com is perfect. Here, we’ll show you what we mean:

PROS

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The Holy Trinity – Here, there are cams featured for all three of the major groups: women, men, and transsexuals. Way to be an equal opportunity host, Cams.com.

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Conditional Love – They say variety is the spice of life, which might be why Cams.com has so many bitches on different professional levels. New, used, or gently worn, you’ll find it.

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Face Off – The Interactive Mode is killer and well worth the money. That’s all we’re gonna say.

CONS

Extreme Close-Up – Since the thumbnails are small, you’ll be tempted to click for a better look. However, those tiny pictures are all you’ll get unless you want to register. End of discussion.

Tower of Babel – There aren’t as many language options on Cams.com as some of the others. For example, we didn’t see German on there at all and German hoes are among the best.

King of the Hill – While Cams.com has a shit ton of fine, professional-looking bitches, the amateur train is chugging along at the speed of light. We see a hostile takeover in the near future.

Can You Hear Me Now? – The audio quality on the Interactive sector isn’t the best, but then again, we have old equipment and the hoes probably do too. Not sure there’s anything Cams.com can do about it.

Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous – Although a lot of the content is free, some of it costs money. And by “costs money” we mean it’s a tad more expensive than what we’re used to.

Who Cares? – It seems like the customer service agents in charge at Cams.com have much better things to do than help you with your concerns. Unless it’s about the money they’re not getting, you’d have more luck complaining to the wall.

When Judgment Day Comes

It took us a while to determine exactly how we felt about Cams.com, despite the fact that we were greatly impressed at first. We always check ourselves at the door, just in case. Luckily, that feeling of “love at first sight” stuck around long enough for us to check out all the site had to offer. About the time we discovered the Interactive section, we were already in love. Although we can’t say Cams.com is our number one favorite live sex cam website on the net, we can say that we wouldn’t mind visiting again or at the very least bragging about our latest conquests to the boys.

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from Best Live Sex Web Cams http://www.bestlivesexwebcams.com/sex-chat-sites/cams-com/