#my baby boy…. i love phil.. he’s like an oc to me….

[shion-yu]

Taco Fiesta 2.0

Quick story for fun ft. @wussifer's OC Jack and my boy Cliff who are actual soulmates in another life <3 Based on this. 1,287 words, CW: food poisoning, emeto, mucho fluff.

Jack's love for questionably safe street food had gotten him in trouble more than once over the years. Cliff kept telling him to stay away from those stands but Jack's memory seemed only to last a few months before he took the plunge again. This time is was "Phil's Philly Steaks" and Jack thought the name was way too funny to pass up trying. 

Cliff groaned and tried to tug him along. "Jack, please, Leo's got dinner at home waiting for us," he tried, but it was hopeless. The call of street meat with a terrible pun was all too powerful. 

"It's fine," Jack said casually as he handed over a wad of ones. "I have a different stomach for this kind of thing."

"You do not," Cliff rolled his eyes. "Just don't come to me when it's 'Got Taco to the Fiesta' 2.0, alright?" 

"Sure, baby," Jack said cheerfully, accepting the giant paper plate overflowing with steaming Philly steak that he was handed. "Thanks man," he told the vendor and Cliff followed behind him to a nearby bench.

Cliff looked at Jack's purchase with distaste. "That looks like brains," he said. 

Jack took a big bite and hummed with satisfaction. "Delicious brains though. Wanna try?" 

"Absolutely not," Cliff said, pushing the forkful Jack was holding up away and sticking out his tongue. He waited as Jack miraculously devoured the entire meal and threw away the plate with a satisfied burp. "You're so gross," Cliff whined as Jack laughed and appologized. 

They took the train back home and made it to Leo's apartment without further incident. Jack's belly was sticking out a bit but true to his word, he managed to shove down a whole plate of dinner made by Leo, too. Cliff had no idea how his boyfriend had such a bottomless appetite but he figured at least Jack was eating enough for the both of them, given Cliff no longer ate my mouth. After dinner they went to Jack's room where Jack sat at his desk to study and Cliff watched videos on bed. 

Jack was still studying when Cliff got sleepy and turned in for the night. "Night Jackie," he said. Jack blew him a kiss and looked fondly at his little family on bed, made up of Cliff, one cat in his arms and one dog at his feet. He had about fifty of the same exact picture but he couldn't help but snap another one with his phone, they were just so cute. 

Around eleven, Jack's stomach started rumbling loudly. He rubbed it and shifted in his chair uncomfortably. He had definitely eaten too much today, but it'd go down soon enough. Except an hour later, it certainly hadn't gone down and Jack felt even more bloated than before. He groaned and stood up, thinking maybe walking around would help. Did they have Tums in the bathroom? Jack located then and chewed two of the tablets. The chalky taste did the opposite of make him feel better and he realized very quickly that he was feeling nauseous. 

It was just too much food, he told himself. No way this was the tacos from three months ago 2.0. He hit his chest with his fist a few times and let out a loud belch that made his eyes water. He glanced at Cliff but his boyfriend was still sleeping soundly. The dog, however, was staring at him in startled disdain.

"Sorry Sabi," Jack said, rubbing his aching stomach. Sabi sniffed as if he understood and rested his head back down on Cliff's legs. 

Jack tried to go back to studying, but his stomach was really burning now and it felt like the words he was attempting to read were running all over the page. He had begun to sweat and groaned, pushing his chair away from the desk and pressing his forehead on the edge. He tried to breathe through the nausea but one thought about the neon yellow cheese sauce on that cheese steak today put him over the edge and he made a mad dash for the bathroom.

It was an absurd amount of food to have eaten, and it felt absurd coming back up. Jack threw up wave after wave of chunky, smelly vomit and swore to himself for probably the twentieth time that he'd listen to Cliff about the street food next time. After a few minutes it seemed like he was empty, and the dizziness was gone. Jack flushed the toilet and stood on shaky legs to wash his face and hands in the sink. He listened, but Leo's bedroom was too far away to hear and Cliff seemed to have manage to sleep through it despite the occasional very loud moan that had come out of him. 

Jack returned to the desk in his room, hoping that was it. Going back to studying turned out to be a no go though and Jack gave up quickly, crawling into bed next to Cliff and resting his head on Cliff's chest. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The attempt lasted about fifteen minutes before Jack was launching himself back into the bathroom for round two. That solidified it - it wasn't just overeating and Phil's Philly Steak was most certainly the culprit. Jack threw up until there really wasn't anything left but stomach acid. It took him another ten minutes to gather the strength to stand up and wash up again, spraying some air freshener on his way out to mask the putrid smelling combo of fry oil mixed with puke. 

Jack stumbled back to bed and lay down, clutching his stomach with a loud groan. Cliff didn't look so cute asleep anymore. He looked annoyingly peaceful while Jack was going through cheese steak purgatory. Jack shook his shoulder, whining. "Cli-ifffff." 

Cliff twitched and opened his eyes, squinting at Jack cluelessly. "What?" He asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"I threw up," Jack said pathetically. 

"Oh, sorry baby," Cliff mumbled, reaching for Jack and pulling him close. "Do you... need... Zzzz." Aaaaand he was asleep again. Jack sighed and cuddled against Cliff anyways. Cliff tended to be fairly useless between the hours of ten PM and eight AM unless Jack really set off the alarms, but he wasn't going to do that for another round of food poisoning by stupidity. 

"Thanks Cliff, you're so comforting," Jack muttered. Cliff's arms did feel nice though, and before Jack knew it his eyes had begun to sag closed. "Love you," he said.

The next morning there'd be plenty of time for scolding and then coddling and rubbing Jack's back as he threw up again. But at least until morning, the two of them managed to sleep - one much deaper than the other. 

"You should've woke me up," Cliff said the next morning while serving Jack plain toast in bed, hoping it would ease Jack's stomach cramps.

"I did," Jack said.

"Really?" Cliff asked, a look of genuine confusion on his face. "Sorry. I don't remember."

"It's okay," Jack said. "I'll forgive you if you make me a good Philly cheese steak at home."

Cliff made a face of disbelief. "Jack, you cannot seriously want to eat right now," he said.

"Not now! Later. To erase the taste of the poisonous version from my memory," Jack said.

Cliff shook his head. "Maybe you should try and remember the poisonous one next time you want street food," Cliff said. But then Jack gave him such kicked puppy dog eyes that he added, "Okay, I'll do it, just listen to me next time, please?" 

Jack grinned, gave Cliff innocent doe eyes and said with an incredible amount of confidence, "I always listen to you!"

[hot-for-rock]

Picture This

Part: II -> Part: I

Rick Savage X OC {Casey Spencer}

A/N: Comments and reblogs welcome! Also I’m doing a Sav POV on part of this chapter as the next one don’t worry.

Casey’s POV

I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, making me set down my camera for a second to see who’s trying to get a hold of me. Now is a good time because everyone in the band is eating and it’s kind of weird to take photos of people eating.

I glance down at the Home Screen and see it’s a text from my dad. He’s not the biggest on texting, only doing it when he doesn’t want to bother me or he’s sending me a photo of something. I click on the text to open it and sure enough it's a photo. It’s of him and my pure black stallion, who I affectionately named Black Sabbath, Sabbath for short. Yes after the band. It's not that weird, have you heard some of the names of race horses? I promise you Black Sabbath is normal compared to that.

I can’t help but smile at the photo, how I miss both of them, but mostly Sabbath. No offence to my dad who I love very much, but I miss the damn horse so much. So many great times riding him until the sun came down around the ranch. He’s my baby, and I know he misses me too, and I can’t wait to see him again when the tour passes through Montana.

I can’t help but smile again as I read the text my dad sent with it, “Missing our girl.” I text my dad back, “missing you guys too.” Then I lock my phone screen and look up to see Joe staring at me, with an amused look on his face.

“What?” I ask genuinely confused, why the hell is he looking at me like that?

“What are you smiling about?” Joe asks me, “Have a boyfriend back home?”

“God no.” I snort about to burst out laughing, me and a boyfriend from back home? Never, I was always the weird kid, no one ever showed interest in me and most of them are cowboys not my type. “I was texting my dad, he sent me a photo of my horse.”

“Your horse?” Sav asks, raising an eyebrow at me, obviously curious about my comment regarding a horse.

“Yeah, my black stallion, Sabbath.” I tell him, pulling up the photo of Sabbath my dad just sent me. “See, my horse and my dad.”

“He’s a pretty animal.” Sav comments looking at the photo on my phone. “So you own a horse then?”

“No, not technically. My dad owns him, but my dad gave me Sabbath as a birthday gift.” I tell Sav, sliding along my photos to find one of my on my horse.

“Did you grow up on a horse farm or something?” Sav asks, he seems pretty interested in this and I appreciate it, there is nothing I love more than talking about my life on the ranch and my horse.

“No, my dad owns a ranch. He raises cattle.” I tell Sav, as I find the photo I’m looking for and show him. “See, this is me riding Sabbath.”

Of course the photo has me in full cowgirl mode, with my boots, chaps, shades and cowboy hat on, with a rope by my side because that day I was out helping my dad and the boys with the cattle.

“You’re like a real life Cowgirl.” He says, sounding astonished, though I’d hardly call myself that, I mean I’m nothing compared to my dad who’s for sure a real life cowboy. I guess I do look like one in that photo though.

“Did you think I wore cowboy boots for fashion?” I joke, knowing full well it was a massive fashion trend among rock stars in the 80s hell if I remember correctly Joe had some.

“I did yeah.” He admits, “but it’s actually quite interesting.”

“I can assume you kill these cows, correct?” Phil asks, looking slightly horrified, probably because he’s a vegetarian and just found out his new companion grew up raising animals to kill them.

“Yeah, but they had a damn good life before.” I inform him, trying to make him feel a bit better about it. “It’s part of the life of a rancher.”

Phil still looks slightly horrified but at least he’s not giving me some lecture about how my family are murders or something, I appreciate it.

“Wait, Sabbath, like Black Sabbath?” Viv suddenly pipes up looking at me with an odd expression.

“Yeah, I named my horse after black sabbath, i promise you it’s not that weird.” I tell him, “You haven’t seen anything weird till you’ve seen race horse names.”

He still looks at me dumbfounded by that, and I have to say it’s pretty funny to shock everyone in Def Leppard so much by being a rancher's daughter.

“You see now Joe? I wasn’t texting some secret boyfriend, just my dad. Also I wouldn’t want to date anyone where I’m from.” I tell him, “I’m the most single person alive.”

“Good.” I hear Sav say beside me, and turn to look at him confused.

“What?”

What does he mean by good? Like it’s good I’m single? But why the hell would he care? It’s not like he likes me in that way right? I mean he’s nice to me, and we get along well, he even calls me love and I like him a lot. I mean I’ve had a crush on him forever, and he’s so much more amazing then I could have imagined but he’s Rick Savage. He’s the bassist of Def Leppard, one of the biggest rock bands to ever exist and I’m just a girl from Montana. I mean there is no way he’d like me in that way, so it can’t be that, though that’s typically what it would mean. What else could he possibly mean? Maybe he’s happy I’m single because I can focus better? Or maybe it was just unfortunately timed and he meant good for a whole different reason.

“I-I meant this sandwich is good.” Sav tells me, “it’s not good you’re single, love. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s okay, I like it.” I tell him, and it makes a lot of sense since it was just unfortunately timed, I mean of course he wouldn’t want me in that way. I can always dream though.

“If you’re happy that’s what matters, love.” He smiles at me returning back to his food.

I jump as I feel my phone vibrating again only this time it’s continuous, meaning someone is trying to call me. I take out my phone again and see it’s my dad, I can’t ignore my own father and nothing too exciting or important is happening, so now is as good as ever.

“I’ve got to take this.” I tell all the leppard guys as I get up and leave the room so I can have some privacy as I talk to my dad.

[docterzerocare]

hey, so uh. learned that q!Phil came back, and got inspired to write a thing with an oc, q!Dandy! :] my lil unicorn single parent <3 also, q!Dandy would make 100% make sure that The Federation can't gaslight Phil into believing that this shit didn't happen. they didn't freak out about if Phil was alright or not just to have The Federation just fuck with Phil's memories.

anyway, have The Concerned Parents Reuniting and Dandy Going Off To Potentially Get Kidnapped Kill A White Bear :)

--------

She heard that Phil had come back, and she doesn't think that she's ran over to his house so fast before.

Except when she first learned that Snapdragon had gone missing, because surely Phil knew where they were, right?

He didn't. Even worse, Snappy wasn't the only missing kid on the island...

They threw open the door to his house, hearing him let out a surprised 'caw' and seeing a few stray feathers go flying. He walks over to where Phil is, and he feels horrified at the sight in front of him.

Phil looked like shit, to put it bluntly. Bags under his eyes, red and puffy eyes from crying, and patchy, bloody wings.

Birds pull out their feathers when stressed, it remembers reading once. How stressed had he been? Had he even realized he'd been doing it?

While it's standing there, its son gasps in surprise. "Mr. Phil! You're back!" Ralphie excitedly rambles. He's about to rush over to hug the man before Dandy gently holds him back.

"Careful, Sweetie. Mr. Phil is hurt," xe quietly whispers to him, eyeing the avian's bloodied wings.

Phil gives a weak smile. "I-It's fine, mate. Just stings a little, that's all." A bit hesitant, Dandy carefully releases Ralphie, who then walks over to Phil and gives a gentle, yet firm squeeze hug. "We've missed you."

Xe stands there for a moment, a tired smile on xeir face. Before long, however, that smile fades into a frosty, cold look of rage. Phil stared at xem, concerned. "Uh...Dandy-?"

"That fucking bear did this, didn't he?"

Phil freezes. He's seen Dandy angry before. Really angry. He saw it when they walked in on ElQuackity standing over a creeper crater where Snapdragon once stood. Emphasis on once. Jaiden had to hold her back, as she screamed at him ("MY BABY! MY BABY BOY! SNAPPY- WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!"). Despite how hard ElQ had tried to insist that Snappy's death had been pure accident-wrong place, wrong time-Dandy didn't believe him. Phil has heard stories about Dandy having stabbed ElQ before he vanished off to fuck knows where and Quackity was returned to them.

Jaiden wasn't there to save him that time, that was for sure.

The other time...well, Phil witnessed that one first hand. And boy, has he heard that cold, calm tone of voice from Dandy before.

And unsurprisingly, it was also during a conversation involving Cucurucho.

(The unicorn stood before the bear, glaring up at them, ears flattened, and tail lashing. "If you so much a harm a hair on my son's head, and if I ever find out that you had something to do with my little Snapdragon being gone, then I'll burn that fancy building of yer's with you inside of it, ya hear me?"

Cucurucho just stares at them. "Ha ha ha. :)")

He tries to deescalate things a bit. "Dandy-"

"He was, wasn't he?" He sounds pissed, not that Phil can blame him. "You know, I thought it was a coincidence, with Big Q and all. But then it was Jaiden...then Snappy...and now it's you."

Still holding onto Ralphie, he seems scared, specifically for what's potentially about to happen to them. "Dandy look, I know that you're pissed-"

"Darn right I'm pissed, Phil!" She sighs. Taking a deep breath, she walks over to Ralphie and picks him up. She has a sad look in her eyes.

"Ralphie, Sweetheart, Mama has to go do something."

He tilts his head. "What's that, Mama?"

"I just...need to go talk to someone." She hands him to Phil. "If I don't come back, you'll stay with Tubbo, Mr. Bad, and Mr. Phil, okay?"

"Mama?" He sounds worried.

She smiles. "No matter what anyone tells you, Mama loves you, Sweetie. Can you promise me that you'll never forget that?"

He smiles up at him. "Of course, Mama!"

With that all settled, he stands up. Phil sets Ralphie down before moving after him. "Dandy, Dandy, don't do this, you know what happened to me-"

"I don't care, Phil, I'm sick of this shit."

As Dandy heads back out the door, a clear purpose in mind, Phil tries to follow after xem. "What are you even going to do, mate?"

Xe turns back before heading off to who knows where. There's a fury in xeir eyes. "To kill that fucking bear, hopefully."

----

q!Dandy is pissed.

Oh damn 👀

[crepusculum-rattus]

35 but can i request ur rambling bc about your hardcore phil. i want to know more about him always

you Can :D!!! i love rambling abt this guy.. i’ve got so much just sitting in my notes app about Him. also i was getting ready for work while writing this so it took a Minute :P

so My hardcore phil.. hes my pathetic and fucked up cat who is dunked in milk daily❤️ okay haha! i’ll actually ramble about the beginnings of his story bc i think it provides the best Insight abt Him..

so when i was on vacation w my family i was like “hrmmm i want an excuse to write ender and phil interacting.” and it just Snowballed from there. bc i had to find my way through Why they would interact and how to characterize ender.

the idea was that phil is entirely new to a hardcore style world (in the logistics where players can choose the type of server they enter ehhh it’s best not to worry abt this part tbh). he’s good at surviving, he’s good at being alone (he claims). but he keeps stumbling upon structures that were clearly built By someone (cough cough it was the gods). and he’s like “haha Weird” bc sometimes he’s a bit of an idiot and thinks nothing of it… he just keeps on exploring and progressing, working on his base and all that stuff.

aaaand he’s finds his way into the nether, and manages to Stumble upon the blaze empress. and they just Don’t get along. so he gets and bad first impression of the deities (since she’s the first deity he actually Talks to). it’s not rlly the empress’ fault, she’s just Stressed bc ender has always been a little bitch, and she doesn’t trust this random guy who claims he just stumbled into her domain (even tho that’s fr what happened).

but like Whatever.. he’s like “okay fine jeez i’ll fucking leave.” and decides to take it Personally that she doesn’t like him, and tries his best to avoid the nether all together after that. luckily he’s got most of what he needs already.. since his goal IS to earn wings in this world which you usually get from going to the end and killing the dragon. soooo he’s just an entirely human dude for most of this. literally just a Guy

and eventually he finds himself in the end. and it’s .. Wrong. he knows it is. he stands in the center of all the pillars for what feels like hours and no dragon appears. it’s just overwhelmingly Silent…….. and then the fucking bitch bastard, ender, appears. and he can very clearly Tell that he’s a god, and is immediately like “before you say anything, i’m Trying to leave but i fucking can’t yet. so shut up. i get it.” but ender just smiles and phil, the idiot, takes it as a good thing that ender appears to be polite and isn’t yelling at him to leave his realm.

there’s a strange lingering feeling around ender but he just takes it as general weirdness from a god. but he ends up talking to ender because the god seems curious as to why phil is There. when phil tells him he’s trying to earn wings (which you usually get from killing the dragon lmao) ender offers for him to stay. it’s not like phil can exactly Leave since he doesn’t really have a way to get out, but the offer is nice. so he takes it :)

aaanddddd that’s the beginning of Him and his time in his hardcore world. very fun very good,, he’s not in danger at all. and it’s not like he’s Stupid, i mean he’s surviving hardcore, he just hasn’t interacted with a lot of people in general. so he’s not.. Great at knowing when someone is just using him. plus he can be pretty stubborn in his opinions of people, so he’s like.. always weary of the blaze empress even later when he needs her help. the same stubbornness is also what makes it Hard for him later once he finally knows ender better. smile.

[bunnymoss]

A little over three years ago I penned what I now consider to me one of my greatest accomplishments. The Other Daughter is my pride and joy, and though I haven't put much work into the FC4 fandom recently, I'd like to gently push my lovely novel onto your timeline to perhaps entice you to give it a read if you haven't already!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18483772

Featuring: -Perpetually Frustrated Pagan who is really great at making poor life decisions -Honey Badger incarnate Vanya who definitely didn't sign up for this, but damn she's doing it anyway and oh hey, self discovery? She'll take a helping of that too! -Paul De Pleur who, above all things, fucking sucks as a father and he'll tell you that right to your face (from behind the Dr. Phil self-help book he's re-reading for the eighth time) -Gary gets a personality! (And he's precious, so precious, can do no wrong good soft boi) -You hate the Golden Path? We do too! Now featuring Extra Fucked Up Sabal for added flavor -Guns? We got em. Drama? Got that too! Fluff? Oh yeah baby. Fluff AND smut? You won't believe this. We SURE DO got that too fam.

And hey, jokes aside, it would mean the world to me if you'd give my OC fic a shot. I know that OC/MC pairings sometimes get a bad rap, and full respect to those who don't vibe with that sort of thing. But if perchance you do, The Other Daughter might be for you!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18483772

[smoochkooks]

—golden boy (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, fluff, disney hercules au, meg!oc, hercules!jk

⟶ summary: jungkook finally has you all to himself. and oh, is he going to cherish the moment wholeheartedly.

⟶  word count: 2.7k

⟶ warnings: virgin!jk, switch!jk if you squint, exhibitionism (they do it outdoors but it’s ancient greece so it’s not even surprising), soft to kinda rough sex, heavy petting, oral (f receiving), slight dirty talk, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie, jk in a man bun, pegasus cockblocking his partner in crime

a/n: i got cherry vodka drunk and wrote this in two hours. it’s jorny hours so please forgive me for the sins you’re about to read with your very own eyes. hercules is one of my favorite childhood disney movies and watching it today i just couldn’t stop imagining jk as the greek god. if you see any mistakes - please ignore them. it’s almost 2am. enjoy!! xx ps. I had some major difficulties with posting this one so if you were one of the first people to read it and sth was off: read it again now thank u

Jungkook thinks you're the most beautiful person in the whole world. 

He hasn't seen many goddesses in his life (hell, he's sure of it, judging by the short period of time he spent on Olympus as a newborn baby-god) but he's positive you would make his aunt Aphrodite jealous. You’re the epitome of his perfection, a walking daydream, his muse and an object of desire.

He could die happily staring at you, though it's impossible due to the fact he's very much immortal. He could travel back to Hades and fight every titan that rots in the pits of Tartarus, just to see you batting your long eyelashes at him or hear you call him ‘golden boy’ again. You quite literally have him wrapped around your finger, not even his father Zeus, the most powerful god in the entire universe managed to convince him to stay on Olympus and bask in the glory with the rest of his family.  

Jungkook chose to live his life with you, on Earth, and there's not a single smudge of doubt or regret clouding his brain. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms and kiss stupidi just like right now when it’s dark out and you’re sitting comfortably on the ground near a small pond.  

“You saved me once again, golden boy,” you murmur, fingers lazily threading through the dark locks on his neck. It almost makes him purr into your mouth.

“You weren't really in trouble the first time.” He bites your lip in return, eliciting a giggle from you.

“But am I not your favorite damsel in distress, Jungkookie?” You place your palm on his rock-hard chest and push, until he's laying flat on the grass, the starry sky above reflecting in his black orbs. “You're my hero, you know that, right?” you whisper, straddling his lap.  

Jungkook's been to Olympus and knows what heaven looks like but this: you above him, your hair cascading down your shoulders, dress bunching up around your waist and revealing smooth expanses of honey skin– is incomparable. It's sweet ambrosia on his tongue, the finest of all tastes, the greatest feeling in the world.  

“Am I?” he asks just to hear you say it once again. Instead of responding verbally you lean down to kiss him, your lips molding perfectly together. He groans into your mouth, two calloused palms itching to touch the bare skin of your thighs. Growing bolder, his hands reach further, cupping your asscheeks and pulling you even closer to him. 

You smirk into his mouth. “Someone's eager,” you tease but give in anyway, brushing your core over the hard length beneath his tunic.  

Jungkook all but moans at that and you relish in the sounds he makes, repeating the movement and slowly grinding yourself on his cock. His face twitches in pure ecstasy and you swear you've never seen anything more beautiful in your entire life– the son of Zeus being at your mercy, helpless to the pleasure you're giving him. “You're going to be the death of me,” he sighs, angling your head to kiss you again. You don't hesitate to oblige, accepting the tongue he slithers inside with a whimper of your own. 

“Thank gods you're immortal.” you say in between kisses.

He chuckles lowly, sending shivers down your spine. He bunches the material of your dress in his hands and lifts it off you in one, swift movement. Your nipples harden feeling the soft breeze fanning over your flesh. Looking down, you're met with Jungkook's blown out pupils. He looks so dreamy like this, the most perfect golden boy you’ve ever seen. His lips are swollen from your kisses, hair a little tussled and falling from his bun. A sight for sore eyes, truly.  

“You're so beautiful, love,” he murmurs, his palms engulfing your breasts. You moan when he sucks one of the nipples into his hot mouth, fingers threading through his hair and ready to pull. “My goddess,” he chants, switching to the other breast. He flicks the pebbled bud with his tongue and then bites lightly, making you cry out in pleasure. “I love the sounds you make. Want to hear you moaning for me. Give me more, love, please.”

He places his hands underneath your thighs and lifts you off him, laying you on your back. You don't complain about the change, not when he trails kisses down your chest and stomach, not when you feel his hot breath on your womanhood. He's determined to please you, it seems, so he mouths over your undergarments, alternating between kissing and licking you softly through the material.  

“Take them off,” you mutter, growing impatient. Jungkook looks up, a devilish smirk on his lips. Oh, how many sleepless nights you spent dreaming of him staring at you like that and practically devouring you with his eyes.  

“Won't you beg for me a little, love?” He's too cocky for his own good but you decide to let it slide for now, your urges getting better of you.  

“Please, Jungkookie, make me feel good.” you keen in saccharine sweet voice. He doesn't need to be told twice, ripping the undergarments off your body. “Oh, yes!” you moan when he gives you first, experimental lick up your slick folds. He swirls his tongue over your clit, making you choke out a, “Right there, darling, right there.”  

Jungkook's certain his newfound favourite place in the world is going to be between your thighs. He's already addicted to your taste, to your smell. He lavishes your cunt with passion, devouring you like the finest meal. He loves the sounds you make, love the little whimpers and breathy moans. He wants to listen to them forever. 

He groans into your heat when you pull his hair, pulling away from your pussy with a wet pop. “Do it again,” he rasps against your core and that's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard. You grant his wish, repeating it every time he delivers a toe-curling suck to your sensitive bud. “You're dripping, my love. Is this all for me?” Jungkook asks, lifting his head up enough so you could see his lips and chin glistening in your arousal. He’s getting bolder again but you’re too consumed with your own pleasure to pay mind to it.

“All for you,” you murmur, the pads of your fingers trailing through his locks lightly. He closes his eyes, lets you massage his scalp for a brief moment. “You're doing so good, darling. You're going to make me come.” 

He takes it as a sign to continue, diving right into your cunt. He shows no mercy, bringing you to the edge of release. You wonder how could he possibly be so good at this already but then you remember who exactly your lover is– a son of Zeus can only be either a fast learner or natural.  

With one, final flick of his tongue on your clit the coil in your stomach tightens and you're coming, more slick gushing out of your and coating Jungkook's face in translucent release. He doesn't seem to be bothered though, licking his lips and chin obscenesly and moaning at the taste. Your hole clenches, needing to be filled.

Jungkook discards his tunic and now you have a perfect view of his sturdy muscles, the byproduct of his training with Phil. You almost drool at the sight, running your palms greedily over the wide expanses of his chest. When your finger ever-so-slightly brushes his nipple, you feel him chocking out a tiny moan. Smirking, you repeat the motion.  

“Y/N, love, please don't tease me. I need to be inside you so bad.” he husks when your other hand travels down his abdomen and trails over his aching cock. 

“As you wish, darling.” With shaky limbs you manage to turn him on his backside again. Right when you're about to pulls his undergarments down, you hear something rustling between the trees. You stop abruptly. 

“Did you hear that?” you whisper, squinting your eyes to see better although there's no use for that during the night.  

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Hear what?” he mumbles and props himself on his elbows to look, but then you see it yourself. A glimpse of white fur that can only belong to– 

“That stupid horse!” you shriek, covering your bare breats with your hands.

“What?!” Jungkook yells, equally as shocked as you. He scrambles for his tunic to cover your modest figure. “Pegasus! Get out of here!” The magical creature neighs in response and peeks from between the bushes, looking at you pitifully. 

“Oh gods, he saw me naked!” you wail, mortified, as Jungkook gets up to scold Pegasus. “I'm gonna die from embarrassment!”  

Jungkook angrily gestures to the horse to leave you two alone, standing only in his undergarments. You want to laugh at how absurd this whole situation is. Pegasus nods with his head bowed down. Fulfilling the order, he spreads his wings and flies away somewhere. You hope far, far away from here.

“Hey,” You hear Jungkook's soft voice. He takes your hands in his and uncovers your red face. “We're alone.” he says, smiling apologetically at you.  

“I can't believe your stupid, magical horse almost watched us fuck."

“Keyword: almost.”

You cry out, burying your face in his neck.  “It's not funny!” you huff, punching him in the chest however you know he probably hasn't even felt it. But you did feel pretty much though; it hurts like you've hit a stone.  

Jungkook chuckles, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. “Do you want to continue?” he asks, rubbing your back soothingly.  

You look up to meet his eyes. “Do you?” you repeat with raised eyebrows.  

There it goes again, the damned sly smirk. “I'm still very much hard, love, and I'm afraid it won't go away that easily.”

“Yeah?” you murmur, thoughts about Pegasus and his prying horse eyes showed to the back of your head. “And what are you gonna do about it?” You push him onto his back, fingers grasping the material of his undergarments.  

Jungkook swallows before saying, “I'm gonna fuck you so hard you will never even think of leaving me.”

Biting your lip, you slide his undergarments down his toned legs. His cock is just as perfect as the rest of him–long, curved at the top and flaming red, craving to be touched. Using the precum that has gattered at the tip you smear it along his shaft, watching in awe as his face confronts in pleasure. He lets you play with him for a while like that, drive him to the insanity with your teasing.  

Just when you're about to position yourself over his cock, he stops you. “Have you ever done this before?” he asks, although he already knows the answer.  

“I did. Once,” you answer honestly. “But it didn't mean anything to me.” You slowly sink down on him, welcoming the slightly burning stretch with a satisfied moan.  

Jungkook hisses, digs his fingers into your waist and you're sure he'll leave bruising marks. “And what does this mean?” he asks, almost chokes out feeling your hot canal enveloping his length.  

“Everything,” you breathe out, lifting yourself off him just to slam down hard afterwards. “You mean the world to me.” you say; it’s priactially a whisper. As you're staring into his wide eyes, you can see your love for him reflected in them. It all feels like a dream you don't wanna wake up from.  

“I love you, Y/N,” he confesses and you know he means it. “From the moment I saw you for the first time I knew you would be the one for me.”  

A lonely tear slides down your cheeks and he catches it with his thumb. “I love you too, Jungkook.” you murmur.  

He smiles like a fool, opens his mouth to say more but you shut him up with a kiss and your hips establishing a steady rhythm on his cock. You pull away from his lips, saliva dribbling down both of your chins but you don't care, bouncing on him like your life depends on it. Maybe it does a little.  

“So good,” you whimper, the tip of his cock almost hitting your cervix with every stroke.  

Underneath you Jungkook looks like he might die right here and there, his chest sweaty and heaving with every breath he takes. He has a vice grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his cock. To your surprise you find yourself liking that side of him, the rough touch of his hands on your skin. You wonder what he's capable of if you push him a little further.  

“Oh, gods!” you keen when his cock brushes past the spot that makes you see stars. He fucks into you just in time for you to add, “Just like that.”  

As much as Jungkook enjoys seeing you bouncing on top of him, he grows tired of just laying still and taking it. In one, swift motion, he flips you onto your back. You squel after the sudden change of positions but that quickly morphs into a loud moan as he rams his cock inside your cunt.

He picks up the pace, making you feel every inch of him. He stares down where your body ends and his begins, watching his cock disappearing in your hole. You urge him to look at you instead, pull him down to leave a messy kiss on his lips. “Shit, you're so perfect,” he marvels, palms squeezing every part of your body he could reach. “Look at you, taking my cock like a good girl,” he spits, leaning to suck a mark on your neck. “Tell me how much you like it.”

“I love it. Love your cock,” you say over the slapping sounds of your skin meeting his. “You're so good to me Jungkookie, so good.” As you feel another, powerful orgasm approaching, you slip your fingers down your body to toy with your clit.  

Jungkook catches it and snatches your hand away, replacing with his own. He rubs your sensitive bud fast and hard, making you cry out his name in a broken moan. “Are you gonna come for me, love? I want you to cream my cock like a good girl.” he rasps, slithering himself inside you with enough force to knock the breath out of your lungs. 

“Yes, yes!” you chant, feeling your cunt spasming around his length. He curses, fucking you through your high. “Kiss me, Jungkookie–please,” you nearly sob and he obliges right away, plunging his tongue inside your mouth to dance with yours. It's messy and wet but you're relishing in it.  

He pants against your mouth, his pace getting sloppy. “I'm not gonna last longer,” he stammers out. “Your pussy feels too good, I'm–”

“Shh,” you whisper, cupping his cheeks in your palms. “It's okay. You did so good, darling.” He moans at the praise, leans down to bury his face in your neck. 

“Oh gods, I'm gonna–ah, shit,” he groans, thrusts into your cunt a few more times and then he comes, spilling himself inside. “I love you, I love you.” he repeats, breathing heavily down your neck.

You wrap your arms around him, smiling to yourself. “And I love you.” you respond. “But please, for the love of Zeus, get off me or you'll suffocate me.”

Jungkook chuckles, lifting himself off your body. He props himself on his hand and stares down at you. You’ve never felt so happy. It’s right here, with him, that you feel the most acomplished. You wish to make it last forever. He places a kiss on your mouth, a sweet, quick peck before he crashes his body next to yours.

He pulls you to his side and you could feel his heart beating underneath the palm you placed on his chest. It beats with the love he has for you. 

“When do you think you will be able to go again?” you ask.

Jungkook cocks his head. “What? Are you proposing a round two?”

“Not exactly,” you quip, your nail ever so slightly brushing over his nipple. “Want you in my mouth this time.”

“You little minx.”

You smirk. If his already semi-hard cock is anything to go by, you have a long night ahead of yourself.

[jtargaryen18]

The Shape of My Heart

Chapter 36

Warnings: Violence, Threesome, Smut, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Jealousy, Polyamory, Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Double Penetration, Anal Sex, Voyeurism, Stucky, Spanking

A/N: One of my resolutions in 2020 is to finish this story. It’s on AO3 but I thought I’d bring it here to pull me back into it. I’ll be posting new chapters when I get to that point on both platforms.

This is not a dark fic and there’s an OC instead of a reader.

I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown, tumblr or fanfiction.net, it has been reposted without my permission.

~~~

In time, they'd mostly put Ross out of their minds and things fell into a comfortable routine around the compound.

Chris was six months along in her pregnancy and each day closer to the birth of their son made her boys both worse. In good ways. When they weren't pointing out that she'd started waddle – because that's what a woman with a ballooning figure wants to hear – they were hovering over her.

Okay, maybe she did waddle. A little. As Helen suspected, the baby was on the larger side and preliminary tests she'd run revealed that the father, whichever one of them it was, had indeed passed his modified and superior DNA on to their child judging by the size and slightly accelerated growth. And that was a good thing in her mind. It did a lot to calm Steve's mind anyway.

The hovering wasn't bad at first. She didn't mind that they took care of all the household tasks and ran her baths and kept her fed. That was all good.

It was the little things like being able to carry her own laptop. She'd closed it one evening after work when Bucky showed up to walk her up to the apartment only to have him freak out when she went to pick it up. She could lift things with no harm to the baby. He couldn't be dissuaded. Worse, Tony backed him up – how about that? – and now when Steve and Bucky weren't carrying her things around for her, Tony was.

And Nat on occasion. And Bruce. And Sam. And Wanda. And Darcy. And Phil especially.

Jesus.

They continued to work on the return of Project Insight as they waited for Ross along with other missions that came up like clockwork. When Ross had returned the week after Steve had met with him, Tony and Fury, he informed them that there was intel that HYDRA had hit a snag in their production efforts, wherever they were, and that he'd let them know when it was time to strike. It gave Chris and Tony time to look for the plans and algorithm copies in the meantime.

Chris had eliminated data from thirteen servers so far, all across Eastern Europe. Mostly mockup plans for restarting the project but no sign of the algorithm so far – and Chris really wanted to get her hands on that. Just last week Fury got intel on where it was believed they were building the new helicarriers and Chris was heading for the meeting. She knew this mission would require both Steve and Bucky and she was as ready as she was going to be for that.

Hell, she couldn't sleep for worrying about it. About them. Chris needed them both. She loved them both.

What she wasn't ready for when she walked into the conference room was for Ross to be standing there, his expression stony as his gaze fixed on her, dropped to her belly.

Fuck you, Ross. I haven't forgotten it's your fault I lost my first child.

His expression became something like a disapproving sneer as she headed to where Steve and Bucky sat, both of them watching Ross with gazes she wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of. Bucky moved over a seat, placing her between them.

Chris took a deep steadying breath. She'd hoped Ross would show up. But she couldn't let on that she did.

"Where the hell were you?" Bucky hissed as they waited for a couple of others to arrive. "I've been looking for you for an hour because of this."

Oh, she knew they'd be pissed. Her boys intended to keep her out of the meeting, away from Ross. She understood why. Really.

But for her own plan to work, she really had to be at the meeting to see Ross.

"I got wrapped up in checking out that server in Bavaria," she said in a low voice, knowing her soldiers could hear her. She hated playing this card. "I know I should check my phone more but… I get so forgetful these days. I guess it's the pregnancy."

It was the one thing she knew she could use as an excuse that would make them feel guilty if they continued to fuss at her.

"You need to find an app or something," Bucky did go on. "I don't care if you have to set an alarm that goes off every hour, for your safety we need to be able to reach you. I called three times."

"I forgot to put my volume back on from my meeting with Tony this morning," she said pitifully. "I'm so sorry."

Oh, all the lies. Still, she told herself. It was necessary. They'd understand why later.

Steve's jaw was locked but his gaze had softened, letting her know he was upset but couldn't bring himself to be that mad at her.

Bucky on the other hand…

"I'm just about ready to restrict you to the apartment for the rest of the pregnancy," he warned, keeping his voice low.

Nat took her seat across from them, winking at her. Good. Nat was all ready to do her part.

"Do you hear me?" Bucky went on. "I'm serious, Chris. We're not taking any chances with your safety or his."

Putting on her best remorseful expression, Chris acted ashamed to meet his gaze and when she did, she nodded.

"I'm so sorry. I love you both and I… I'll do whatever you think is best. I promise."

After all, if she and Nat pulled this off, it would be worth it to spend the next three months restricted in the apartment. If she could stop Ross…

"What are you up to?" Bucky's gaze narrowed on her. That got Steve's attention.

"What?" Chris sounded innocent.

"You agreed to do what we wanted, even stay in the apartment, huh? Just like that?"

Chris blew out an exhale, trying to come across as tired and overwhelmed. Bucky wasn't easy to fool.

"Well, I stay so tired these days," Chris explained, and it wasn't a lie. "If I was there in the apartment, I could catch a nap here and there. I was thinking earlier that I wish I could've taken a nap."

She caught the glance the two of them exchanged and Bucky backed down. Steve had to be happy as hell to hear her say that. He'd been gently asking her to work from the apartment for the last month, and she had to be ready to go through with it now. And she would be if she and Nat pulled this off.

Tony finally walked in, his gaze going to Chris, his expression something like disapproval. Beneath the table, she felt Steve's hand slide protectively over her belly, over their son, his large hand spanning a lot of it. Steve was watching Ross, but the gesture had her melting.

"We've located HYDRA's production facility," Ross began without preamble. "Just as we suspected, it's deep in Siberia and very well concealed. We actually lucked into learning its location. We don't have a lot of time. The helicarriers will be ready to carry out their mission within days."

Chris's heart clenched in her chest. Bucky's hand slid into her own in her lap, lending her strength.

Ross had a laptop set up on the opposite table, within reach of Nat which wasn't a coincidence. Ross pulled up maps on the screen, hooked into Tony's guest network so he could display it easily for them. All he needed to do was turn his back quickly…

Her boys studied the map, looking over the terrain and buildings they would have to navigate in their quest to destroy the second incarnation of Project Insight. Ross turned to the maps, pointing things out. It gave Nat all the time she needed. Chris watched as Nat followed her instructions, no one seeing her hands move towards Ross's laptop.

"I understand, Stark, that you've had some luck in tracking down copies of the plans," Ross said but he was looking directly at Chris. "How about the algorithm?"

"Not yet," Tony's voice didn't hold any of its normal exuberance.

Ross's gaze on her was intense and as much as she hated to do it, she reached out to read his emotions.

Curiosity. Determination.

That he was up to something was no surprise. But what? What could he possibly hope to do now?

They discussed the terrain of the site, potential landing sites, exits. Bucky and Steve had a lot of input on how they were going to pull off the mission, Bruce throwing in a couple of ideas. Rhodes would be going with them and every extra person helped as far as Chris was concerned.

She just wished Steve and Bucky didn't have to go at all. Their baby would be there in three months and she wanted both of there in one piece.

Hell, it was terrible timing. Everyone else was gone on a mission led by Sam and Clint. That group that included Vision, Wanda, and Peter.

"I'll meet with you later this afternoon on a lead we have regarding the algorithm," Ross said too calmly to Tony before turning his attention back to the maps. The mission parameters were reviewed, and Tony, Fury, and Steve went over details.

The mission would deploy tomorrow.

The meeting adjourned, and Chris took a steadying breath. Her plan was in place and if Nat did everything right, and Chris couldn't imagine that she didn't, she'd have exactly what she wanted.

The bad news was, she had only hours to examine the data. And a doctor's appointment too.

Knowing they had a lot to do to get ready, Steve helped her up from the chair. "I'll walk her back to up to the apartment if you want to get started, Buck."

"I'll walk her up," Natasha offered. "I've got to run up to my place anyway."

Before her boys could debate it, Chris smiled. "I'll go with Nat. You two head on. I'll just be so glad when this is over with."

The weepy way she said that earned her kisses from both, Steve's hand rubbing soft circles in the middle of her back.

"Just stay put," Steve instructed her. "If someone comes to visit you, FRIDAY will let me know."

"I have a doctor's appointment, Steve," she reminded him. "At 3. What about that?"

He and Bucky communicated silently. "Just a routine visit, right?" Steve asked.

She nodded.

"I'll see if Dr. Meadows can come up to see you at the apartment, how about that?" he offered.

Chris shrugged. That was fine with her.

She and Nat just chit chatted until they got off the elevator on her floor. Once they were inside Chris's apartment, Nat gave her the small drive back.

"I hope you can get what you need," Nat told her.

Chris gave her a huge hug. "I'm sure I will. I can't thank you enough."

Nat smirked. "Don't thank me yet. If you actually get something, then you can buy me dinner or something."

"Deal!"

Nat headed out to get ready and Chris headed for her cave.

The utility she'd given Nat to use was very black hat, a spider meant to grab certain file types, to look for certain sizes and dates. Everyone did naming conventions differently so she knew she'd be flying blind there.

The results seemed basic at first and Chris sighed in defeat, seeing very little. Until she noticed that an apparent junk file, grabbed only because of its size, was grabbed. Within it, she found quite a lot.

Ross had the plans for the resurrection on Project Inside. He had the algorithm. The fucking algorithm.

What was Ross doing with it? Had he been part of HYDRA all along? Or did he mean to use it against someone? She didn't understand.

Then she found a good deal of information on the Avengers Initiative. There were meeting notes, official missives, proposals. Apparently, Ross wanted the entire initiative dissolved but how could one politically do that? They couldn't just make the set of heroes disappear with so many fans and appreciative citizens out there. They couldn't control them – they'd proven that.

Frame them?

The more she read, the more she started to realize what the plan was. Ross meant to make it appear that Tony Stark himself was trying to resurrect Project Insight, a project to take out now anyone who was perceived to be a threat to the Avengers who then meant to try and take over…?

Who the hell would believe that? Tony was what he was, but no one would buy him being a HYDRA-level megalomaniac seeking world domination with the rest of the team.

Chris's head began to ache. Correspondence about the Avengers Initiative on an official level finally started to die down around October of the year before. It was like Ross hit a wall, decided to give up.

The date of the next file got her attention. It was dated Thanksgiving of last year. November 22, 2018.

Private notes Ross made with a couple of slides. A presentation he'd given to someone. Someone. Who? Who on earth would be persuaded to go along with him on such a crazy, hair-brained idea? Who would allow themselves to be convinced that Tony Stark, Steve Rogers and the rest of the Avengers would try to take over the planet?

The notes were very detailed. Mentions of Steve caught her eye. Of course. Steve had rejected the accords before. It would look like the entire plan was born of the disagreement between Tony and Steve on how the Avengers continued serving the planet. It almost made it seem that Steve would only agree if they had complete control prompting Tony to say "hey, let's just take over the world."

What was the significance of Thanksgiving?

Chris had just opened another file when it hit her.

Thanksgiving was the day that both Tony and Bucky announced that she and Pepper were pregnant at their holiday dinner.

Fuck.

In Ross's head, the Avengers were such a threat that he needed to eliminate them – somehow – before they could hatch another generation. Was that it?

Chris felt sick.

Fury had also been worried about word getting out. She thought about the people in their group who had known. Who among them would help Ross?

Or did he have bugs around them?

Surely she and Tony would have detected that.

Rising from her chair because her lower back ached, Chris began to pace. How did Ross think he was going to get away with this? What did it all mean for the team tomorrow? Were they heading straight in for a trap? The last files detailed the mission he was about to send them on, but all of those files looked official, aboveboard.

Did Ross mean to kill them all? And if any of them survived, they'd have evidence to show how they'd tried to take over?

Chris had meant to find something she could use against Ross, to dump it before he could stop it and let the world at large judge him for his many crimes. While some of his "notes" could be incriminating, there wasn't anything there to actually prove intent. There was nothing about his transaction in selling her to Odysseus.

What was coming?

She had some water, she paced some more. In the end, she decided she needed to tell Steve, Tony, and Fury what she'd found.

She hadn't realized it was 3 PM.

"Dr. Meadows has arrived," FRIDAY announced.

She really wished she didn't have an appointment today of all days. Maybe she could just tell her she wasn't feeling well and get out of it that way.

When she opened the door, Dr. Meadows smiled at her. The OBGYN had been taking care of her at Helen's recommendation and Chris was fond of her. It just wasn't a good time.

"Are you okay?" the other woman asked, walking in while Chris held the door for her.

Chris bit her lip. "You know, I'm not having such a good day. I'm really sorry."

"It's no problem," Dr. Meadows placed her bag down on the coffee table. "Let's just make this a quick check and I'll let you get some rest, okay?"

Chris nodded. Her anxiety level was climbing.

"Do you feel okay physically? Is it anything to do with the baby?"

Chris shook her head. "No, I don't think so. It's just… Not feeling well in general. I think it's just that I haven't been sleeping well. I'll go to bed early tonight.”

The doctor hummed, motioned for her to sit down on the couch. Chris's phone hummed from the coffee table before her. While Dr. Meadows was taking her blood pressure, Chris snatched up her phone to see she had a text.

From Phil.

SKJ08U7342: Are you home?

Trying to angle the phone so she could be sure the doctor couldn't see the screen, Chris quickly considered the text.

Chris: Yes.

SKJ08U7342: Can you stay until I get there? I needed to go over plans for tomorrow.

Chris's heart dropped. Something was very wrong. The text was intended to let her know that and to let her know he was coming for her. Phil never put in anything important in writing directly.

"Relax," Dr. Meadows whispered as the blood pressure cuff squeezed her arm.

Chris: I'll be here the rest of the day. Did you need Steve and Bucky too?

"Your blood pressure is off the charts," the doctor told her with a wince.

"I'm so sorry," she told her, her hands shaking.

SKJ08U7342: Be there in 5.

Dropping her phone to the table, Chris gave the doctor her attention now. If she were in danger, the doctor with her was in too. The poor woman didn't deserve that, not for trying to help her.

"Dr. Meadows?" Chris said slowly. "I don't mean to be rude, but can I talk to you another time?"

The doctor's warm brown eyes widened. "Is everything okay?"

Chris typed. Fast.

Chris: Remind me to have Steve talk to Nat. And to have Tony check out of my desktop. I picked up some virus called Poseidon.

Turning her attention back to the doctor, she smiled. Trying to put the other woman at ease.

Chris never noticed the woman held a slim cannister in her hand. "I'm sorry."

The spray was deployed in her face and then her world went black.

***

Phil knew before he hit the hallways something was wrong. He hit the com.

"We have an Athena alert," he said calmly, knowing it in his gut.

Sirens began blaring a beat later and Phil knew that the elevators and stairwells would automatically be sealed off to those not authorized given the seriousness of the alert.

Stopping at Captain Rogers' apartment, Phil used his thumbprint to get in, having authorization in such a situation. Nothing looked out of place, a quick check revealed that Chris wasn't there.

"FRIDAY, where did they take Agent Danforth?" Phil demanded.

"They are on the roof," the AI responded.

"En route," Tony was on the com now and Phil heard his boosters in the background.

"We're coming up on the south side," Captain Rogers advised him.

"I'll take the north side," Tony told them.

He didn't use it often, but Phil took out his work phone with all the Stark tech, shook out the image to display where he stood in the living room. "Show me the roof," Phil ordered the AI.

A small group of soldiers in all black uniforms followed the woman they knew as Dr. Meadows, had just reached a helicopter waiting on the roof. Four of the men surrounded one soldier who carried Chris Danforth easily in his arms.

Tony flew in, placing himself between the helicopter door and the group. The situation wasn't ideal because extreme care had to be exercised with Danforth's delicate condition.

When Captain Rogers arrived on the roof, Barnes at his back, he slowly approached, taking in the situation. When he saw the doctor, his expression hardened.

"Give back Agent Danforth now," Tony ordered, taking a step closer to them as they took a step closer to the vehicle. Unlike Steve, Tony had been able to suit up and didn't look worried. "OBGYN, huh?"

The woman they'd known as Dr. Meadows nodded. "I am."

"Working for who?" Steve asked angrily.

When there was no answer, a fight broke out. Dr. Meadows looked uneasy as the four soldiers around the one carrying Agent Danforth began firing. Captain Rogers did have his shield. Between it and Barnes's arm, they deflected enough bullets to move closer. Just when it looked as if they were gaining the upper hand, they turned to find the doctor with a hypodermic needle poised at Danforth's throat. The young pregnant woman still lay unconscious in the arms of the soldier carrying her.

"Make one more move I don't like," the woman said angrily, "and I'll inject this and kill them both."

"Why are you doing this?" Barnes' frustration was clear in his tone.

"This child is crucial to my research," the woman told him coldly.

"That child is ours," Steve's voice was low.

"Behind you!" Phil called on the com, watching in horror as two more men climbed over the side of the building.

The two new soldiers yielded guns firing rays of gold like the Destroyer protype gun Fury had entrusted him with. One blast of it had Iron Man fighting back hard. The other fired at Rogers whose back was to him. Barnes blocked the shot with his Vibranium arm, giving Rogers time to turn and deal with him.

The next volley sent Iron Man flying off the roof. Rogers and Barnes and then faced the two. One of them then fired a blue ray, hitting Barnes and dropping him to the ground unconscious. Before Captain Rogers could deal with that, he found himself facing two of them with weaponry that was highly dangerous and new to them.

Phil was on the move, heading for the roof. He didn't stop, fight for breath. His captain needed him and a group of SHIELD agents, led by Black Widow, were on his heels, coming from he didn't know where.

When Phil reached the roof, the helicopter was in flight but still in view. Three bodies, clothed in black, lay scattered around Captain Rogers who was on his knees, struggling to breathe. No sign of Iron Man or Barnes. One soldier remained on his feet with one of the new weapons. Aiming it under his own chin, he pulled the trigger, dropping to the rooftop without a head.

The sound of Captain Rogers' scream could likely be heard for miles.

Phil didn't know at that moment, but they'd not only taken Agent Danforth and the child she carried, they'd also taken Bucky Barnes. And Tony Stark was seriously injured, on the ground several floors below them.

@what-is-your-plan-today  @jennmurawski13 @badassbaker @caffiend-queen @disneylovingal  @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

[ne-fe-li-bata]

Aye yo CORPSE!  ...

Dead ass;

You can't convince me that Corspe was/is/does ; 

in no particular order..

• Deserve to be held ( I would smother him with my chest and hold him tighter than he has ever been held) & protected from this world

• Pyro! Mans loves🔥🔥🔥 - mostly his fav elemental  (Leo is a fire sign); “WOOO... now that’s a fire!”

•  Loves knives/weapons- has a collection (quite a nifty 1, ay thank-a-you) & even knows how to use butterfly knives/ tackle combat.

      Has a collection of weapons (brass knuckle, daggers, swords, knives,etc.)

•  Highly interested in combat/training. Most likely has training in some sort of combat. Loves any form of physical combat < UFC,MMA, Boxing, any type of martial arts>

•  Absolute proper gentlemen / clearly has the utmost charm/cunning

      I.e holds the door open & will slap yo ass on the way in, moves you away from street side when walking, pulls chairs, defends your honor, etc.

• Takes A . L . O . T  to truly capture his attention- but once you have it ..%100

•  With his person; protective/obsessives/ possessive/ sensual/ affectionate .

              < mine is mine. me no share -like absolutely not at all>

             “ You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down for ya“

• RP'er on DeviantArt/chats had his own OC. (also prob had his fav person to RP with) 

         <prob even talked to them in MSN or private chat>

•  Watched mostly nothing by anime/cartoons (nick/CN) as a kid & also mostly watched certain shows/movies as a kid well into his teens

         (could recite quotes/scenes as second nature)

•  Not a major musical theatre type of kid. But musical movies/shows was 1 of his favs- but still highly interested/ in love with theatre/musicals/preforming arts none the less.

-EYES DON’T LIE

•’staring problem’ he’d just stare at you -deep in his head (both good & bad) you’d have to bring him back to you ..”babe- eh, come *snap*back to me. What’s on your mind my love?’

•  Genuinely a really warm person- but only to certain people, but comes across cold & distance 

•  Grew up in the internet & knows the way around the 'business' & 'faceless' YouTubers/celebrities

•  His teens/ late adolescents consisted & grew up on YouTube O.G videos/ video game commentary/content;

  Cry.. <Cry was a huge part of my life & still hold a special place in my heart. Corspe just like I was most likely devastated with the shit that went down> 

Jack

Nova

Sp00n

Jontron

Smosh

Nigahiga

Shane

Jenna

Hanna Hart

Phil/Dan

KevJumba

Ray William Johnson

Pewds

Machinima

EMT

ERB

Wassabi Prod.

VlogBros, 

-etc

• Has an oral fixating (lovebites indefinitely <like dead ass ya’ll be chillan/ out & he’d attack you> & just needs something in his mouth always)

• Fidgety af, always need to be playing with something in his hands/playing with 

•  Is a goddamn absolute certified freak--but also super soft bean boi. (can't stress how this boi needs& deserves to be protected)

• Constant hand/arm touching/stroking for comfort.

• Daddy{papi} / Mommy(mamá) . Master . Sir  kink - hard control kinks- but highly sub. 

hard(er) kinks

• Lovebites = M I N E 

obvs fishnets/ crossbody straps/ lingerie

lace

collars/ restraints 

toys

     •RP

degrading/praising

sub/dom switch

showing/proving your actually/completely & utterly his/ he’s completely & utterly yours..

& of course you know it's go time when 1 - if not both of you has kitty ears on. 

over stim 

*no touchy/ don’t let me go*

“look at what I’ve done to you”

“you kno only I can do this to you”

“look how greedy you are for me”

“look at the mess you’ve made because of me’ 

“cum on my face”/’cum for me”

“who do you belong to” / “you belong to me & only me”

100% all black clothing 🖤

*that once we get home / I swear I’ll deal with you right here, right now* look 

primal play  “when you run from me, it only makes me want you more” “you know imma find you kitten”

pet names (beast< i feel like you call this man “ (a) beast”-he about to lose his absolute fucking mind> , “oh Corpse/______, you absolute fuckin’ beast- my God” kitten, babyboy/girl, baby(e), bae, my love, lover boy, my darling, slut, needy little bitch, cum slut, lil’ whore, master/mistress, king/queen”

“only yours” “just ______” “ no-one but _____” “only____” “only you” 

‘I’ll keep you so no one can find you or bother us’

“that’s my girl” / “that's my boy”

“would you like to/ I saw----”

“look at me” “don’t look away from me”

GROWLING / talking through clenched jaw

not breaking eye contact 

     • his name & ‘Corspe’ being cried out 

“cry out my name for me baby. know who you belong to”

video/sexing/teasing 

breeding kink

voyeurism

abrasions

aftercare af 

impact play 

24/7

edging 

accidental stim; “holy fuck- I’m so turned on by you rn”

rope bondage 

begging 

worships 

•  But also soft kinks; 

MEME SENDING

head on lap/chest

naps

playing with hair 

matching outfits

voice messages 

always touching (somehow)

no space between bodies

picture taking together/ just of you

body rubs, head rubs

massages

competition 

play fighting

“this reminded me of you”

“I remember you said” “I know you...”

“you know I love you”

“I can tell by your eyes”

“ugh- I swear to shit imma marry you 1 day”

“nothing really made sense until you”

“do you wanna watch”/ “WAIT!? YOU HAVEN’T SEEN?!”

“damn- you really do love/like me, eh?”/ “you are SO fucking mine”

“that’s my girl”/ “that's my boy”

pet names/ “MY_______” “YOURS”

long stares

dates- stay at home dates are his fav, as your attention/focus is just on him 

choker/necklace/ jewelry (that 1 of you bought- NOT LIKE HIGH PRICE TAG, but like seen it & was like ‘omg ____ would so wear...’) 

cuddles with movies /anime watching time

just being in the same room/on call- even in silence 

* emojis*- just some sort of communication 

inside jokes/ puns/dark humor

seeing 1 another with kids

future kink (family, travel, etc)

playing video games 

dancing/ singing with 1 another

Sitting on the ground, wrapped around his leg when he streams/edits

Nerf gun fights 

Watching him record (tracks/editing/streaming)

•  Loves- loves surprises <like dead ass would set up a surprise date/ do a scavenger hunt for you/ surprise you with your fav thing>

•  Loyalty is everything & his best attribute (& pride) 

• The music that he make is from the soul/heart. He pit everything has has/what he has left into his art

•  No one has seen the real him - a side he truly hides

•  He's both book & street smart

           Taught himself through YouTube/Reedit/online 

•  Fav actors; Jim Carrey/Robbin Williams/Will Smith (?)

•  Man’s straight up dangerous. we only know like a  quarter of him & people fall at his feet. ( h e . i s . n o t . t o . b e. F U C K E D . w i t h) 

•  Hates silence 

         ( constantly needs background noise)  <also can't fight me on this babyboi cuddles pillows/blankets for night-night time>

•  People don't understand the pain he is in every day, unless they have fibromyalgia/GERD/high functioning (sever social)anxiety/depression/ agoraphobia 

(my mom suffers with fibro/depression <I myself have GERD/ sever social amenity/depression>& I wouldn't wish those illness on my worse enemy...)

• Over all pain has changed him

• Has dealt with self harm since a young age- most likely 9- 11 yrs old. (as someone else who’s suffered with SH for years- when you become so numb it 1 of the only ways to feel some sort of anything/makes you feel like you’re alive)

• Addiction (drugs/people/things)

•  Wrote & read a lot of fanfiction

        (most likely his main source of reading in pre/teenage years)

• Is a hopeless romantic but has his guard way up

•  Obsessed with Japan / Studio Ghibli

• Doesn't think he deserves any of the recognition/ fame he's gotten--but definitely deserves it all as he's creative & inspirational as fuck. Also he’s worked so hard for it & had put himself through so much

    Contrary is highly appreciative of those that are supporting

• Doesn't do it for the fame but for the fact he know how he's gotten people through hard time (just like those on the internet got him through)

• Was a scene boy that vibe’d of myspace/ listens to a lot of  ‘scene’ pop-punk, emo/ scene band shit (band?)

•  Also is/was a major tumblr boy

•  Would be a phenomenal father

•   His love language: physical touch & words of affirmation 

• He would flinch at touch movement but would melt in your hands

• Face caresses would trigger anxiety/ tears.. but once he’s calmed/comfortable would burry his face in your touch. neck & chest

•  Still caught up in daydreams

•  A part of him is still never satisfied even if it’s exactly to the pin point detail of what he wanted  

•  Has at least 40/50(ish) songs he hasn't released

•  Mommy & daddy issues (not saying his home life was really- really  fucked - but non the less- it certainly wasn't the best).. Also wants to protect/provide for his family (especially his sister) & was prob closer to a grandparent/aunt/uncle)

•  Definitely prefers to be by himself, as every time people come around, it's like;‘"this is why I'm okay (ish)with being alone" 

• lost an important person to him due to O.D/ suicided..

•  Also most likely to of heard his "friends" shit talking 'Corpse' or something correlated with him

•  His pride is his biggest sin (next to lust)

•  Has single-handedly defined a huge part of 2020 ( in the best way)

•  Went through a fighting stage where he was ready to fuck anyone up on a drop of a dime (middle/'high school'/street fights- possibly even under ground)

          but also a stage where he cut absolutely everyone off for a solid couple years

•  Most likely obsessed with 1 of 3 creatures; lion, dragon, wolf ( 5ish- possibly bear/fox)

•  Dinosaur obsessed 

• Internet & video games raised him

• He raised himself

Quick to adapt to surroundings/situations.

•  Mighty Morphin Power Rangers was his shit ( I CAN SO SEE YOUNG BABYBOI RUNNIN AROUND THE HOUSE IN A POWER RANGER SUIT) "IT'S MORPHIN' TIME MOTHER FUCKER"

              fav ranger- green 

•  Has up until next year planned out & is working on the next 'version of corpse' ( PR, vids, music, etc)

•  Also med/high key this man was most likely in a physcward (more than once) ..

•  This man deserves more than he'll ever give himself recognition for & knows in the back of his mind--people will hate just to hate

•  Rose is his fav flower  🌹

•⛈️🌧️. >🌞.  Loves storms/ rain & prefers them over sunny days

•  Loves the moon/stars/space (?) < observatorium dates = fuckin mint>

• Pixar/Disney lover

        <still believes- deep down in happy ever after ... but thorough an twisted yet not so twisted- simple(??), dedicated process(?)>

•  Fav Pixar movie.. either Wall.E or Toy Story 

    •  Pixar > Disney

         •  But fav Disney movie- Beauty & the Beast (?)

• Most likely had a Jackass obsession's (doing dumb hoodshit)

•  Fall is his fav season (?)

•  Horror/ thriller movies/shows over everything (obvs)

•   Had an escape place in town where he’d hide from the world- that absolutely no one knew about. 

•  Was really into graffiti/ street art 

•  Arested as a youth - but charges dropped- or was still considered a mirror (either fighting/ possession/ trespassing/ vandalisms)

• Arrested on heavier charges (also same as above - but not tried as an minor)

•  also-ALSO ... thou he feels like he owes people something. HE DOESN’T OWE ANYTHING TO A N Y O N E . His mental & well being is the most important.

•  On a side & major note. You can't deny that this man single handily is a (in my opinion) the 2nd biggest “C” that define 2020.

•  Was most likely really into skateboarding/BMX

• Late night drives/impulsive road trips & playlist/ sitting at lookouts, just in silence & touching 1 another. 

• Clingy af-.. but could also be distance & cold af- especially on high pain days. stormy brain days. PTSD episodes.

• Slow dancing/ dancing around the apartments. with or without music.

• Rocking out with each other- screaming lyrics in each other face.

• “hey baby- how you feelin” 

         *grunting* *shuffles over & lays on chest* 

• Huge comforts for 1 another;

      Especially when going out, being wrapped around him for comfort & reassurance. Even being at home alone together- panic attacks are shit, PTSD episodes are even more shit. helping each other with bathing & caring

     When he’d be hiding from his reflection- or stares just a little too long. Going up behind him & worship him (vise versa)

• He’d be your biggest hypeman/ #1 fan (vise versa)

• Would LOVE you wearing his clothes/jewelry & would love to wear you things.

Was probably engaged to his ex (that's why he gets offt when people mention "corpse wife"

There'd be days where he'd be so distance & cold.. & tell you to leave but wouldn't let you.

He'd sit in the bathroom with you when you shower/have a bath.

As he doesn't sleep most night. He'd be up just watching you sleep & caressing you.

Lil spoon > big spoon.

<more to be added>

I love you... genuinely . turly.  madly. deeply.

[awkwardtaco056]

so now that i’m no longer in the Hell that was school and after finding the lovely blog @endcringe i’ve decided to talk about my own experiences with cringe culture, bullying, and why it’s Really Bad to not let people enjoy inherently harmless things, especially neurodivergent people (read more because this is gonna get long and triggering at times, TW for mentions of bullying, suicide, child abuse, a brief mention of incest shipping. I won’t be naming any of the peers that I discuss my experiences with, because my point with this post is Not to “cancel” anyone, I just want to speak out on my experiences)

I’m neurodivergent; I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was 8 years old. I didn’t know a lot about it, and a family member even painted it as “oh it’s nothing blah blah blah just apply yourself more. Because of this, I had no idea about the concept of hyperfixations until I was in my late teens. Due to that, I would obsess over random things and my family would shame me relentlessly for it. My mother said I had an “addictive personality” and that she feared I’d end up a drug addict or alcoholic because of it.

I look younger than what I am, I’m short, and small. AKA, the perfect candidate for being picked on by people bigger and stronger than me. People made fun of my art when I was around 13, but fortunately that was an instance where spite fueled me to improve drastically. However, just because I happened to take the shitty comments and have it fuel me then does NOT mean bullying people will have that effect all the time. At some point someone put my old South Park fan art on a cringe blog. I was temporarily hurt, and a little angry, but I realized that if someone was making fun of a 15 year old’s art, they probably didn’t have much going for them in life, so I moved on.

Fast forward to high school. Everything was horrible and I’m not exaggerating when I say I barely made it out alive. I was living in an abusive household up until January 2018 and I found comfort in many different interests. I’ve always found great comfort in music and the arts in general. In 2016, I drew a picture of a mermaid. I was inspired by the chocolate opal gemstone, and I thought it’d be fun to draw a gay chubby mermaid with dark skin and a rainbow tail and freckles. Junior year was lousy and I wanted something that sparked Joy. I was immediately told that “scientifically, mermaids wouldn’t look like that. Mind you, my take looked like this:

Obviously I wasn’t going for realism, I just wanted to draw a cute mermaid. However, they continued to tell me that they wouldn’t look like that, going as far as writing so on the back of said drawing. When I got angry at her for taking it too far (as I’d established before that I didn’t like it when people wrote on my art without permission), they got angry back, accusing me of being unable to take criticism. Heated by the accusation, I went as far as asking my art teacher if it was fair for them to say that, and she said no, stating that constructive criticism would be talking about how I could improve my lineart and coloring in the digital version. I took her actual helpful criticism and since then have improved Drastically in digital art. Even with that being said, I found myself hesitant to participate in things such as MerMay because I was leery of hearing that peer berate me for having cartoony mermaids. 

 During high school I grew to love many musicians, a lot of emo/alternative stuff, a couple being Twenty One Pilots and Melanie Martinez. I love how unique TOP’s style is, their open discussion of mental illness, and as someone who had a rough childhood, I connected with every single song on Cry Baby. It was like nothing I’d ever heard. I started listening to mashups featuring all these different artists I love, adoring how they could change the tone and sound so drastically. A peer Bully of mine in junior year condemned these two artists, declaring that they made “Bad Music” simply because it didn’t fit their tastes. They’d throw my drawings on the ground, write over them in pen, steal my headphones so I couldn’t listen to music, push me around, complain that mashups sucked and gave them a headache, and in general shit all over conetnt that was actively preventing me from committing suicide. 

Some family members were no better. Once high school hit, I began listening to Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, and My Chemical Romance. Their deep complex lyrics stuck with me. I would write down quotes from my favorite songs and thanks to hyperfixating, I remember each studio album in order My mother resented when I fell in love with the “Emo Trinity” because “the Columbine  shooters were emo and that event traumatized me” Despite that, not only did the Columbine tragedy occur in 1999 and none of the bands got together until the early 2000s, but I have a pretty good feeling those groups aren’t For gun violence. The other side constantly criticized the fact that I love FOB, P!ATD, and MCR because I’m black and “why must you listen to that white people music.”

 I grew fond of Dan and Phil in high school (and I’m still a fan to this day!), I loved Phil’s kindness and positive aura and I deeply connect with Dan’s sense of humor and personality. Their content made me happy during some very dark times in my life. It’s November 2017, I’m over a close peer’s house at the time, and notice PINOF is upon us. I drew the PINOF whiskers on my face, my plan being to quietly watch them in the corner of peer’s bedroom on my phone through headphones, the others were doing their own thing and I knew they didn’t like them, so I thought they’d respect it if I silently indulged in it. Unfortunately, the complete opposite happened. I was immediately shunned and locked out of the bedroom, told that I’d only be let back in if I washed the whiskers off because “absolutely not”. Me, being stubborn, washed them off temporarily but drew them back on in the room. Life during then was especially bad for me, as the abusive household I was in was getting worse. They noticed, of course, and even though all I wanted was to enjoy this small tradition in a time during a deep depression, I was immediately shoved out the room and locked out, only to have said peer’s family members notice. I’m a relatively shy person, so this was honesty a really harrowing experience that had a lasting effect on me. 

I grew to adore Sanders Sides as well, but the moment I found out most of my peers didn’t like Thomas, I was terrified.  I stopped watching Dan and Phil’s content for months and shied away from other fandoms too, only occasionally indulging in times of complete solitude. One time when said peers were due to visit my house for the first time, I saw the Phandom and Fander stuff I’d hung up on my wall in my little sanctuary that was my bedroom (it was the first time in years I’d had my own room), and I was filled with panic and fear. I took them down and hid them away, genuinely terrified of what they’d do to me if they saw. It’s still incites so much anger in me to this day because they turned around and ended up shipping incest, but somehow liking D&P and Sanders Sides was So. Much. Worse.

They were baffled by my actions, despite having humiliated me Twice by going on a private blog of mine separate from everything so that I could fully indulge and laughing at everything on there, once at a peer’s house, once right in school. I don’t think they realized how traumatizing it was to have a large group of people in public laughing at something I was deeply self conscious about for all of my life. I put on a brave face at the time, but ended up crying in the bathroom after first period began. I continued to be treated as lesser until things came to an ugly head August 2018 when I ended up in the hospital because I nearly attempted suicide. Years of child abuse, bullying, and being deemed “cringy” made me feel like I didn’t deserve to be alive, that everyone would be happier if I were gone.

After arguably one of the lowest points in my life, I cut them off and slowly began to embrace the Real Me. I started letting myself enjoy the things again, made true friends and even found love, my first boyfriend ever at 18. I still get choked up retelling it, but when PINOF 10 dropped, after he found out how much I’d been hurt over the incident in 2017, I was greeted with a photo of him with the whiskers on his face. I cried for a while, blown away at such a pure act of kindness. He listens to me ramble about my interests, he compliments my taste in music, he watched K-12 with me. 

This got incredibly long, but my point is this: Cringe Culture hurts people. You might think it’s whatever if the Thing doesn’t apply to your interests, but content you’re denouncing as cringy could be something that’s keeping them alive, that one flicker of light in a void of darkness. When I was contemplating suicide, I listened to The Black Parade, repeating Gee’s words to myself over and over, that nothing in the world was worth hurting yourself over. Some friendly joshing here and there is okay, but actively ripping someone to shreds constantly to the point where they have a mental breakdown in front of you and later on plan their own demise is disgusting. Nobody should abuse anyone for having harmless interests, no one. Unless you’re participating in p*dophilic/inc*st/s*xual assault/inherently abusive ships/content and pretending it’s not bad because “Fiction doesn’t impact reality!”, you have every right to like what you like and be happy. Read homestuck. Play Undertale. Draw up the Wildest OCs you can imagine. And stay away from people who try to rob you of innocent fun, life is too short and in this cruel, unforgiving world, you deserve to be happy, whether you’re a 13 year old who draws cute furries, a 16 year old cosplayer on TikTok, a VSCO girl, a 30 year old who writes/draws self insert art or a 20 year old who adores Invader Zim. 

Cringe Culture is just bullying under a different name, and it can lead to many instances of people, especially fellow neurodivergent folk to feel isolated and ostracized. Attempting to bully someone out of an interest they have isn’t going to fix them; it’s more often than not going to cause more damage. I suffer from diagnosed C-PTSD, anxiety, and depression, and sometimes I still find myself trying to over-justify my interests. To all who are roped up in bad homes and lousy “friends” who berate you for your innocent passions, I’m sorry you’re suffering, things will one day get better even if it doesn’t feel like it, and fuck those people. I’d also like to note that sometimes even if it seems more terrifying, it’s better to have one or two close friends you can truly trust than a whole group that walks all over you. You have every right to call them out for treating you poorly, and if things don’t improve, you also have every right to leave.

You have a right to live your True Self.

[licoriceblackaliceangel]

February 1st is the day I made this blog!

First making this blog, I’ve said it plenty of times when it was brought up, but I never intended to do much with it.

I made it for the purpose of not flooding my main blog with bat/im stuff, and having the idea of answering asks for Alice if any came by. I was RPing as Alice with someone on discord for at least four months prior to this blog, and soon this blog delved more into an RP blog more than an ask blog.

I’ve made plenty of friends, have so many memories and a lot of growth through this blog. And despite some of the hard times I faced and forces and situations where I almost deleted a few times.. I don’t regret a thing.

SO.

I decided to make a little follow forever under the cut! A few people (Going back. A lot of people did. Oops.) will get some special shoutouts solely because I have a lot of thoughts, but if I don’t write something for you, don’t think you mean any less to me! If I forget anyone, my DEEPEST APOLOGIES. I have the memory of a gold fish and trying to remember everyone is. Hard.

But just know if we are mutuals I LOVE AND CHERISH YOU.

This also got a lot longer than I expected OOPS

@inkdrenchedsmile: Tea, I tell you everyday and talk to you almost everyday. I love and cherish you so so so much. You’re the sweetest, cutest, most darling thing ever. You are the brightest little marshmallow peep~ And I have so grateful everyday to have met you and be able to write with you. I love your writing and stories and your ideas and art and YOU ARE SO TALENTED! You mean the world to me. I love you, honeybun <3

@kalamxs: GIO. BOY YOu know I told you plenty of times you’re one of the reasons I even went to making this blog. I followed you before I even had the thought in my mind (I don’t remember why, maybe from your AWESOME ART and your writing and rping made me stay) because YOU ARE SO FUCKING GOOD!! I remember laughing all the time and sharing with my friends in my discord even though they don’t exactly understand BUT-- Man I’m so happy I got to actually. Interact with you! And get to befriend you and man YOUR ART GIVES ME LIFE. I love seeing all your stuff and writing and I LOVE WRITING WITH YOU. Bendo and Alice are absolutely adorable as well; fucking dorks. I LOVE YOU BABEY!! NEVER GONNA STOP LOVIN AND SUPPORTIN YOU!!

@bendicethedaughterofthedevil: NICK. You know I been with you since the MERE START. And I told you watching your growth and Bendice’s story was. WOO. Man I sometimes see the old Baby Shower art thing I did for the twin’s baby shower like.. Gonna be almost a year with that too. And just. :(.. THINGS WERE SIMPLER THEN.. I love you Nick, you’re talented and sweet and so so ambitious and strong and I LOVE YOU BABEY!!

@devilswinging: Veemo, I am so glad to have been able to meet ya and interact with you. I love ya man and I love writing with you and your muses. I love the small chit chats we have and seeing you on my dash. I love Alice’s relationship with Bebe and Sammy and just. Man!! You know, no matter what, if you ever feel down and feel like no one likes your boys, know I !! Will always love and appreciate them. <3 And Alice does too.

@instrumentsofcyanide: STELLLAAAAAAA. I fucking love you Stella. You’re so funny and sweet and the little messages back and forth sometimes and you coming in my DMs like: WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH YOUR ANONS all the time is. So funny. All the damn fiascos Oreo manages to produce and just. Oreo in general. Always gets me laughing and smiling. I love you and your boy so much?? You’re so fun and creative and silly and just an OVERALL JOY TO TALK AND BE AROUND WITH!!! I’m so glad to be able to interact and talk with you <3 (Never forget the first time I think you actually said anyhting to me was about that one Alice Blog Foot Pics Fiasco and I’ll never forget being like; Man someone I look up to and I’s first interaction is over saying ‘wow fuck this girl’ over guilting me for foot pics-- DOFIHJGFD)

@inkwise: AVI I LOVE YOU SM. DFKGJ. You’re so sweet and creative and your muses are an absolute joy. I especially have so many feelings. For Henry. So much. I love this man so much and I thank you and him everyday for my life. He needs a break. I love getting to write with you and seeing you on my dash is?? A fucking delight. Thank you. <3

@lxgner: ALICE YOU CREATIVE SWEET PERSON. You have so many damn muses and I APPLAUD YOU. Your OCs are all pretty sweet imo? The ones I seen. And the ambition you have to write and work on all this?? I applaud. I love your Joey muses esp and they’re so interesting and I love the thought you put into them all you know?? It’s interesting and really brings life into them. Your writing is delicious and your humor is. Great. I love writing with you <3 Keep your head up darling.

@one-eyed-twin: LADY V I LOVE YA SWEETHEART. Your muses are a delight and I love the little threads we’ve had, either it with Phiona, Clyde or Vlad (here and on my other blog) I love peaking at your threads and seeing your writing. You’re an absolute delight and I love?? Your creativity and your ART!! You truly are a person with impeccable tastes ~ Love seeing you on the dash, love <3

@inkyencounters: Glowbun you. Are really a sweetheart. So creative and funny, you really are kind and try to look out for everyone and it’s Very nice. I’m very appreciative of how kind ya are and the creativity you have with your muses and just. It’s very refreshing. Thank you for everything.

@sillymuses: Where do I begin. I love writing with you either with Charlie or on this blog, both here and my OC blog of course. You really have such a creative spin in your writing and really? Feel your characters and paint them so!! Amazingly. I love the back and forth between you and you’re honestly. Adorable. I love seeing you and your creativity hun <3

@inkmachine: GLOOMY I LOVE YOU AND I HOPE THINGS ARE/WILL GET BETTER SOON LOVIE. God it’s always a treat when you’re online and on the dash it’s. Always hilarious. I love seeing what Bendy fucking gets up to this time and he’s so?? Awesome. I love him a lot. The little bastard PFF. He’s absolute adorable and cute and I love the dark shit with him honestly. And him and Alice’s lil Candi adventures are always. Tooth rottingly sweet. I love ya hun. <3

@taakos-troupe-of-threads: I hope you know the phrase “Snap would fight Chalk Jesus for Alice’s honor” is a thing that will NEVER leave my mind and tends to cross it once a day. PFF. I love writing with you and seeing you on the dash as well! Snap is a fucking DOLL and I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. (As does Alice, ofc) They’re absolutely adorable and poor girl is such a worrier PFF. Our DMs are always something funny as well, I think. I always know I’m in for something good when I see that fucking. Orange Danny Devito icon in my dms-- KSKJF

@dappcrdust: GLITTER!! Man. I remember first writing with you with your Bendy muse and honestly? Ever interaction from him to now has ALWAYS been a fun treat. I love your writing and love seeing you on and getting into whatever shenanigans that seem to pop up. Mostly with Angel it seems pfff.. Sweet Angel. I love what you have all done and cooked for him and his character he’s so?? three dimensional i love it. Him and Alice’s BFFship is honestly. Great and I love them SO MUCH. You’re creative and fun and just. A sweetheart. Love ya hun <3

@gamblxrhxsk: tbh I didn’t know what blog to @ YOU FUCKING MANIAC. Jk. I love you Echo. PFFF It’s funny to me that I feel I got closer with you via fucking. shit with CEO-Entity. LMAO. Echo where do I start. You are SO DAMN FUNNY. Like my GOD how many times have I laughed out loud to myself over some shit ya wrote and done?? Hell, even with your stuff with phil swift and entity and all that stuff got my SQUAD TO COME TO ME LAUGHING OVER IT!! I love also all your muses and the fact you got this whole arsenal and can?? Keep up with it for what it seems like. PROPS!! I love fucking around with you here and there and even though we don’t really write together too much (which, I would love to but I’m myself and even still lowkey anxious OIGJG) I just love putzing around and seeing you do your thing on the dash; from jokes to serious business. It’s always a treat. <3

@nctherchpter: Pai, I’m still lowkey so flattered you ever followed me back (and now mutuals with me on our mains like. WHAAA--) Your art is always. Bellissimo. Asriel was always a joy to see and honestly just. Stole my heart. I love him so much. Your writing is always a joy and man you just. Are skilled in The Arts(TM) Your self insert blog is also?? Awesome. I love the concept and idea and going through with a thing like? Honestly. Inspiration. All your self insert stuff really is just. Big big inspo. I’m so glad you seem to have? So much fun. Also I did say it in Nick’s stream many moons ago when they were going through BATIM again. Your voice is v cute <3

@clair-de-luna: WHERE DO I BEGIN WITH YOU!!! Man I remember following your main back for that SWEET MUFFETON ART. My cherished Muffeton mutual. And now here we both are with THIS. YOUR ART JUST CONTINUES TO INSPIRE AND GROW AND I LOVE!! SEEING IT!! And LUNA MELTS ALICE AND I’S HEART ALL THE TIME. God does she ADORE HER LITTLE STAR!! Ugh. I cry real tears. Always a delight to see you both here and your main. <3 I love ya DC!!

@lilithmagne: AC you. Are truly an artistic marvel. Your art is INCREDIBLE, your writing is BEAUTIFUL. And I love seeing you on my dashboard. You are so sweet and kind?? It’s so nice. I LOVE the love and work you put into Lilith and her story and your research and dedication? It’s amazing. Lilith is an absolute BEAUTY and God I LOVE HER. You do her SUCH A BEAUTIFUL JUSTICE!! So honored to be mutuals with you honestly. <3 Keep being amazing you beautiful person.

@lucifermagne: MARZI YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE ANGEL. Working on all those HH icons for other rpers, working on your other RP blogs and pumping out that SWEET CONTENT. You are honestly a treasure. You are absolute sweet and a joy to see online. I love peaking at your threads and LOVE seeing your posts either for HCs or just IC shenanigans with Lucifer. You put so much through and care into your interpretation of him and I LOVE IT. He’s such a fun goof ball but at the same time presents himself as. THE KING OF HELL. Obviously. He’s an absolute Joy and just!! It’s amazing. We haven’t threaded together yet but even despite that?? I just love seeing you and him (and Alastor and Marx and the gang ofc) on the dash. Always a damn delight. <3

@thatscwewywabbit: we only just started interacting like. a week or so ago but AMANDA Man I have told you before how much I adore seeing you write for Bugs and how it’s ALWAYS SO FUN to see him and your posts for him on the dash. THE AMOUNT OF RESEARCH, CARE, LOVE, THOUGHT ALL PUT INTO HIM AND YOUR WRITING FOR HIM. It’s just so good. So refreshing. Ugh. MY CHILDHOOD!! It makes me so happy all the time. You really are. An inspiration. Writing with you and him is a DELIGHT and love peeking at your other threads just. It’s so nice. It’s almost uncanny how well you play him. My goodness! Keep being awesome lovely <3

@viennaxmuses​: Fuck you bitch. Yeah. You’re getting put here. Bitch. Fuck you. I LOVE YOU. BItch. You fucking fuck. You sweet cute funny fuck. You adorable loving supportive bitch. Ya uplifting comforting creative artistic thot. Fuck you.

Okay this went WAY LONGER THAN I INTENDED but sorry everyone else I didn’t write a lil blurb for. I wrote a lot and I STILL WANNA GIVE SHOUTOUTS CUS I LOVE!! ALL OF YOU!! Even non-mutuals like. I just wanna share all the love and appreciation I have here.

@hxllodolly @cvangclii @snxkeyes @ofinkdxmonsandxngels @brxkeninstrument / @butcherbrains @stupidcoffeeboy @strawberry-lemonade-muses @hazbinmuses @bornloscrs @black-jack-the-cat​ @bluescarfvivi @a-framed-rabbit​ @angelusvoce​ @ask-slender-and-gray​ @wrenchand-abone

[starknjarvis27]

Happy Pride! I decided to update my Favorite Fics of All Time rec list! I’ve reread each of these many times. It’s very queer (except the Batfam one, which is just all the found family feels):

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Rey/Finn/Poe

Title: Fonder

URL: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6510361

Summary: Rey and Poe become close while Finn is in his coma.

Why I Love It: It’s both hilarious and sweet. I laughed, I squeed, I wanted to grab Poe and Rey into an everlasting hug. THE LITTLE OCEAN.

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Title: Carry On

URL: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B3hkdeeG8VhPU1JJbTNFN05CMHc/view

Summary: To make ends meet, Destiel gets a job as Castiel’s sub.  

Why I Love It: D/s goodness. Complex relationships. Family dilemmas. Hot. Sweet. Misunderstandings. JUST ITS SO GOOD GUYS.

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Title: Asunder

URL: http://archiveofourown.org/works/62115?view_adult=true

Summary: Years ago, Dean ran away from his addict brother and his crazy girlfriend. Now, they’re getting married, and Dean has to go back to California to figure out whether his brother is really clean this time. Castiel comes along.  

Why I Love It: It’s so subtle and aching and beautiful and I love it.

Fandom: Sherlock

Pairing: John/Sherlock

Title: Cooperative Principle

URL: http://archiveofourown.org/works/488939/chapters/852994

Summary: As the newest instructor at St. Bart’s, John has been explicitly warned to never do Sherlock Holmes any favours. Too bad the sex is so good.

Why I Love It: MISUNDERSTANDINGS. MISUNDERSTANDINGS GALORE. this one just kills me, but it’s SO GOOD.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Sirius/Remus

Title: Let Nothing You Dismay

URL: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2818349

Summary: Sirius is in love with Remus. It’s the holidays. There is pining.

Why I Love It: The most beautiful writing in the whole world.

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Stiles/Derek

Title: Fireman Derek’s Crazy Pie [Cheeseburger Baby]

URL: http://archiveofourown.org/works/752428

Summary: Stiles sets off the fire alarms in his dorm so Hot Firefighter will keep coming back.

Why I Love It: THE ASPARAGUS SCENE. APOLOGY BROWNIES. IDENTITY PORN.

Fandom: Avengers

Pairing: Steve/Bucky/Sam

Title: There’s My Territory

URL: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2202087

Summary: Bucky is trying very very hard to learn self-care. The best thing he’s found is…silk panties.

Why I Love It: TRUST ME JUST READ IT. It’s hot, it’s painful, it’s delicate, it’s powerful.

Fandom: Avengers

Pairing: Clint/Phil

Title: All I’ve Got Left to Believe In

URL: http://archiveofourown.org/works/677246

Summary: Clint Barton is not Peter Parker’s big brother. (YES HE IS.)

Why I Love It: Foster kid Clint. Adorable Peter. Kind and adorable Phil. FOUND FAMILY.

Fandom: Batman

Pairing: None (side BatCat)

Title: Foreign Object

URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7804285

Summary: Bruce Wayne has a brain tumor. He and his family have to deal with it.

Why I Love It: FOUND FAMILY. Also, this fic introduces one of my very favorite OCs.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Albus/Scorpius

Title: Put Your Guns Away, It’s Tea Time

URL: https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/17913607

Summary: Scorpius gets invited on a Weasley camping trip.

Why I Love It: This is exactly what I needed after Cursed Child. If JKR weren’t a fucking coward, this would be canon.

Fandom: X-Men

Pairing: Cherik

Title: A Nice Boy

URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4152609

Summary: Erik has never invited Charles to brunch. Why should he? It's not like they're dating.

Why I Love It: I love fics about people who don’t realize they’re in a relationship. Charles and Erik are soulmates in every universe, and I love the ways this fic rewrites them in a modern, powerless world.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Drarry

Title: Then Comes a Mist and Weeping Rain

URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234222

Summary: It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

Why I Love It: This fic is what might happen if the Harry Potter crew went back to Hogwarts for their 8th year and actually dealt with all their emotions. Draco pines so beautifully. 

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Sterek

Title: DILF

URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487739

Summary: "Today is Scott's first day of kindergarten and Derek is terrified."

Why I Love It: Wolves! Cupcakes! Science! Children! So much pining!

Fandom: Twilight

Pairing: Many, with mostly OCs

Title: The Imprinted Chronicles

URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5803547/1/The-Imprinted-Chronicles-Book-One

Summary: This series is technically about the different Twilight wolves finding their soulmates, but it’s more about the way the pack interacts with each other.

Why I Love It: Some of my favorite OCs of all time. Plot twists like WHOA. Amazingly deep characters. Complicated relationships. Wolf shenanigans.

And no rec list from me would be complete without this one:

Fandom: Avengers

Pairing: Pre-Steve/Tony

Title: Some Things Shouldn’t Be a Chore

URL: http://archiveofourown.org/works/381185/chapters/622952

Summary: The Avengers live in the Tower. Shenanigans ensue.

Why I Love It: OYSTER FORKS. ROOMBAS. LEANING AGAINST EACH OTHER’S BACKS. CHORE CHARTS. TIRED MUMBLING. HILARITY. TEARS.

[meganmazing]

another phlint rec list*

i’ve done one of these before (1), and phlint also shows up in one of my multi-fandom rec lists (2), so if you want more of these two, check those out!

click the titles and author names for links and remember to show love to your authors in the form of comments/kudos, they love it all, i promise.

READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS ON EVERYTHING, PLEASE <3

(*except for one fic that is technically not phlint-centered, but it’s a sequel to a phlint fic and it is important and 100% recommended reading, plus Clint plays a role, so.)

Phil Comes Back

Never Sold a Lie by nerdwegian        Words: 7k+  Rating: M

"The Life Model Decoys are designed with a self-sustaining Artificial Intelligence, with the project goal being for them to be able to pass as their Target Model in any given situation."

Road trip fic. Obviously.

EDIT: Now also available as podfic by the lovely, amazing shell!

YEAH, YOU DID READ THAT RIGHT. This story broke my heart, but becasue I am who I am (read: a massive sap), it has a happy ending. It’s Clint’s perspective and so the Clint feels are front and center, but I was thrown by how hard it hit me with the PHEELS. The grief is so well done on Clint’s part, and I love how the author dug right into that, BUT PHIL. 

It’s not the road trip trope you’re expecting. No spoilers, becasue it’s better if you don’t know a ton going in.

ask ourselves what road to take by topaz     Words: 47k+    Rating: E

Clint knew it was going to be bad as soon as he looked up from whatever the hell Nat had gotten for him to eat and saw Fury standing in front of him.

Clint and Steve being friends is generally overlooked in a lot of the stuff I’ve read, so every time it pops up in a fic’s tags I’m like, “oh right, this is a thing!”

It’s the most Hawkeye thing I've read in a long time, and I love it. It follows along with MCU movies, too, but GOD. It hurts, and hurts so good. The ending totally melted my soul.

(Barney shows up ~kinda~ but this is not the fic I referenced earlier. I read this before I actually cared about Barney, so when he ~kinda~ popped up I didn’t give a shit, BUT EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT NOW)

AU

I Could Live by the Light of Your Eyes by nerdwegian  Words: 43k+  Rating: E

All Clint wanted was to get laid.

(In which Clint meets a mysterious man who may or may not be named Phil, and accidentally stumbles into a big conspiracy where very few things are what they seem to be.)

The quote that won me over:  ""You're going to get me fired," Clint says, which is also dumb as hell. He's going to get his own ass fired, all because he can't turn down a fucking blowjob from an assassin in a three-piece suit, what the actual fuck, Barton-- ”

This is amazing. The way they play with the lore/canon of the MCU is incredible, and honestly, that universe is so interesting I wish there was more of it. I audibly when “OOOOHHHH...hell yeah” more than once. Phil is awesome. Clint has a complicated relationship with impulse control. Life is bad ass and messy.

Good Publicity (is worth its weight in tequila) by aftersoon   Words: 18k+ Rating: M

All Phil wanted was a quiet drink. What he got was a devastatingly handsome archer, one meddling boss, and a job in PR for the most destructive team of superheroes he'd ever heard of.

I thought I hated AUs that had Clint as an Avenger and Phil as a civilian, but damn. Add this to the list of things I can’t say anymore. The way he gets tied into the whole team is great, and I loved how involved everyone was. Plus, obviously, Clint. Always. 

If you’re looking for a good Phil-centered fic, and you like AU, definitely don’t skip this one. 

Chilling with the Avengers

There's a Dog-Related Pun in There Somewhere (Don't Worry; Tony's On It) by Perpetual Motion  Words: 11k+  Rating: G  

Phil gets turned into a corgi. There are emotions involving Clint. That's literally the entire plot.

Tony’s name is in the title. Is it a surprise that I clicked on this story? At this point, it really shouldn’t be.

The corgi!Clint fics in this fandom are the best, and so hell yeah I clicked on a corgi!Phil one. And I am so glad I did, because it’s the cutest thing and so funny. Out of all the recs on this list, this is the one that’s pure fluff and goodness.

Pre-MCU

This One Time in Shanghai by Eligh         Words: 9k+ Rating: E

Clint and Phil just keep on accidentally having sex. And then Phil screws it up with (ugh) feelings.

HELL YEAH HE DOES.  The way this is written is so Phil, and the style/flow of it changes as Phil's understanding of his own feelings change, and it was just so damn well done. Plus, there are expertly done sexytimes with FEELINGS (a lot of both in this fic, tbh). All the love to the author, seriously.

(The cameo in the end had me going: is that...? IT IS.)

Series 

Line of Sight (series) by shadowen      8 Works Total  Ratings: E/M/T

My series bookmark just reads: If you haven’t read this series you’re doing so many things wrong. So, clearly, I kinda like it. Just a little. And can I just give all the kudos to the author for making 8 whole works in the series? Bless.

By the time I got to the tags in Part 8 (Anchor Point), I was walking on air.

The first installment is below, and it pretty much cemented my love for the author.

Fifty Pound Draw by shadowen          Words: 30k+  Rating: E

There was always a chance the mission would go wrong.

This fic quite literally builds the relationship from the ground up, and I still vividly remember getting to the end of the very first chapter and thinking, “Oh, Clint”, and wanting to wrap him in a million blankets forever. Dude has been through the ringer.

The final chapter is one of Phil’s mission reports, and holy shit only in this fandom do formal mission reports make me tear up, what the hell. I love Phil so much in this. I mean, I love him always, but the way he’s written here just kills me because the characterization is so spot-on. And so is Clint’s. This is that backstory fic to stomp all backstory fics, and (at least this first part) could be stuck right into the MCU as is with zero change to any of the properties, and that kills me just a little bit more.

And Here’s That Series I Referenced in the Beginning

Landslide by JHSC  Words: 91k+  Rating: E

Clint is seventeen. He has a girlfriend, a baby on the way, and a headlining act in the circus.

Then, he doesn’t.

When I think of amazing OCs, I think of JHSC. The world created here is honestly in a class of it’s own, like an elseworlds tale that my brain just immediately accepts as alternate universe canon - no questions asked. Landslide (and it’s sequel) are very heavy reads, and so I would say know what you can and can’t handle before going into this regarding depression. 

Found family dynamics get me, man, and Landslide is a gut punch. It digs into Clint’s life in a way I don’t often see, and I love this series all the more for how it handles backstory. In my bookmark I rave about the pacing and oh boy, THAT CLIFFHANGER.

Under Pressure by JHSC  WIP, Current Word Count: 83k+   Rating: E 

Barney has a plan: leave the circus, support his family, and get control over his life.

Then his plan gets shot to hell.

I’ll be honest. I hate Barney. Rather, I did, before this fic. Honestly, I knew from how hard I fell for JHSC’s character portraylas las time that there was a good chance it would all happen again, but I’m a little mad about how much I care now.

I will go to the mat for Barney and Paul at this point, and the most recent update was so GOOD. If you want a raw, emotional story that is so real it hurts, but also sweet and romantic, then HERE YA GO. The latest update is getting into THAT CLIFFHANGER in Landslide that left me screaming, and I’m on the edge of my seat for the conclusion, guys, send help.

[growningupgeek]

Season of Love

Word Count-1373

Characters- Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Elaina Mason(oc) and some special guests.

Summary- Sam and Elaina just wanted a simple quiet wedding.  Chuck and Gabriel have some other plans.

A/N-Surprise @d-s-winchester this is the first of two fics I’ve written for your 12 days of Christmas challenge.  I told you that you didn’t know what you were letting yourself in for letting me take White Christmas.  Tags under the cut.  As always, if you want on or off my tag list drop me an ask or a message.

-JediCat

Edit is mine.  Please do not post any of my works on another website with my written permission.  Giving credit does not count.

Elaina looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.  Her simple ivory satin and white lace dress was complemented by an updo and light make-up done by Alex and Claire.  She wore her own heart shaped blue topaz earrings and Jody had loaned her a matching necklace.  Out in the library, Sam was waiting with Dean, Cas and a few friends for the wedding to start.  It might not be the wedding she’d dreamed of when she was a kid, but having Sam made up for it.  A soft smile crossed her face at the thought of her soon to be husband.

Gabriel’s face appeared behind her in the mirror, “You must be thinking about him. You’re glowing.”

She squealed and threw her arms around the archangel’s neck,”You made it!”

“Did you think I’d miss this,” he asked hugging her back.  Then he withdrew just enough to look into her eyes. “Are you sure about this?”

Elaina looked into his suddenly serious face and smiled at him. “I know Sam and I have had our ups and downs, but I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Gabe searched her face, then smiled back satisfied with what he saw there.  “Then let’s get you married.  But that dress, pretty as it is, will never do for you.  Close your eyes and let me work, cupcake.”

Knowing that there was no use arguing with him, Elaina sighed and closed her eyes.  She could hear Gabe walking around her, studying her from every angle like he’d never seen her before.  Then he made a soft noise and snapped his fingers. Her shoulders chilled but her legs felt warmer as Gabe turned her.

Finally he whispered, “Open your eyes.”

Slowly, she opened her eyes.  Her knee length dress had been replaced with a strapless floor length gown trimmed in red on both the top and bottom.  The red band on the top was studded with beads and there was intricate beadwork on both the skirt and the bodice.  Gabe hadn’t touched her hair, makeup or jewerely and she felt tears well up in her eyes as she ran her hands over the material.  She turned to him to express her thanks when the door opened and Jody stuck her head in.

“Elaina, we’ve got…” her voice trailed off as she took in the sight of her friend.  

“Jody, this is Gabriel,” Elaina said softly.  “I know I asked you to walk with me but…”

Jody smiled, “Well, since I’ve just been introduced to God and the Avengers I think I can handle being replaced.”

Elaina’s eyes went wide, “Thanks, Jody.  We’ll be along in just a minute.”

As the door closed Gabriel produced a silk handkerchief.  “Let’s get you married.”

On the other end of the bunker Chuck was talking to the Winchester brothers, trying to talk them into letting him change their Fed suits into something more festive.  Sam was trying to explain that he and Laine wanted something simple when Chuck tilted his head to one side, then shot a questioning look at Cas, who rolled his eyes and nodded.  Chuck walked towards his guitar with a flick of his finger.

“Trust me boys, you’ll thank me later,” he called over his shoulder.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered behind Sam.  He turned to find his brother’s Fed suit had been transformed into black tux, with a red bow tie and a narrow band of red trim around the lapels.  He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Dean looked up at him.  “I wouldn’t laugh if I were you.”

Sam looked down, his suit was now a white tux with a red bowtie and pocket square.  He just shook his head, Chuck was going to have his own way one way or another.  He and Dean shared a look, then walked over to where Cas was standing and looked out over the transformed library.

Bookcases had been pushed back against one wall, the other was lined with tables decorated with evergreen, holly and ivy and laden with a feast.  Garlands of evergreen and holly were strung between the pillars and green carpet ran between rows of chairs from the stairs to where Cas was standing.  There were a few more people sitting there than Sam expected to see; Donna, Alex, Claire and Mary he expected to see, but Jody was supposed to be with Elaina.  He caught her eye but she just gave him a reassuring smile.  Behind her were Elaina’s friends from the Avengers and SHIELD: Phil, Grant, Steve, Bucky, Natasha and Wilson along with Thor and his lady, Jane, smiled at him from their seats as they waited for the bride.  Dazed, he looked to Cas for an explanation.

Cas looked as bemused as he felt. “Chuck wanted to give you and Elaina the wedding he felt you deserved.  And there’s no arguing with him once he sets his mind.”

“At least he didn’t bring that Stark character along,” Dean said just loud enough for Cas and Sam to hear.

Before he had a chance to make any more comments, Chuck began to play the wedding march on his guitar.  The small group rose to their feet as Elaina appeared at the top of the steps on Gabriel’s arm.  Sam felt like he couldn’t breathe as he watched them walk up the makeshift aisle, the only thing he could see was the woman coming towards him.

Elaina took no notice of any thing around her, all her attention was focused on Sam.  She felt like the only thing holding her down was Gabriel’s arm wrapped around hers as they made their way to the alter.  A few feet away the two of them stopped and Sam stepped forward reaching his hand towards her.  She reached out and felt his warm fingers close around hers, their eyes locking.  Gabriel chose that exact moment to clear his throat so that they both turned to look at him.

“You’d better be good too her, Samsquach,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.  “I know where you live.”

A titter of laughter ran through the guests and Elaina leaned over and kissed Gabe on the cheek.  He flushed just a little as she and Sam moved in front of Castiel.  

The ceremony itself passed in a haze, little things stood out to her: the look in Sam’s eyes as he repeated his vows, biting her lip as she slipped a plain silver band onto his finger, how warm her band was as he pushed it on and the feel of his lips on hers as Castiel pronounced them man and wife.  And as they turned to face their guests glitter that looked like snow flakes began to fall over them. She looked over towards Thor who pointed at Gabriel and smiled.

Dean was the first one to hug her, whispering in her ear, “Welcome to the family, officially.”

The next few minutes were a blur of hugs and congratulations until Claire announced loudly that she was hungry, which sent everyone towards the food.  After the cake was cut and passed out Chuck returned to his guitar.  All eyes were on Sam and Elaina as he led her to the middle of the library, now cleared of chairs.  But instead of taking her in his arms for their first dance like she expected, he took her hands in his.

“You once told me this was your favorite Christmas song as well as one of your favorite movies,” he said with just a hint of nervousness in his voice. “I didn’t know what to get you, nothing seemed special enough, so this is my wedding gift to you.”

Then he looked over at Chuck, who had his guitar in his hands again.  Chuck nodded at him and began playing.  Tears formed in Elaina’s eyes as she recognized the opening notes of White Christmas.  When Sam’s rich, mellow voice joined the guitar she didn’t even try to stop them from flowing down her cheeks.  Her grip on his hands tightened on his as he sang the final phrases of the song

May your days be merry and bright and may all your Christmas’  be white

The Usual Suspects-   @darkcastersruletheworld​​ @black-shad0w-w0lf​​ @imagine-that-supernatural​​ @ladysaraharper​​ @thedepthsoffandomminds​​ @kbrand0​​ @soaringeag1e​​ @supernaturalismalife​​ @iwantthedean​​ @jojomonsterbunni​​ @little-red-83​​ @growleytria​​ @ashleymalfoy​​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​​ @halespecterwinchester​​ @driverpicksthemuusic​​ @isometimeswritesomethings​​ @whyisleepacesoamazing​​ @mist-and-echoes​​ @sassysupernaturalsweetheart​​ @kaylas-obsessions​​ @aerisawriting​​ @letsgetoutalive​​ @divinitycas @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​ @jodyri​​ @soab1967​​ @busybee612​​ @appleschloss​​ @kazchester-fanfiction​​ @oriona75​​ @screeching-pterodactyl-fangirl​​ @deandoesthingstome​​ @littlegreenplasticsoldier​​ @sammy-moo​​ @for-the-love-of-dean​​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​​ @kittenofdoomage​​ @sandlee44​​ @apeshit7x​​ @purgatoan​​ @fast-times-in-the-impala​​ @wereallbrokenangels​​ @wonderless-screwup​​ @dontsassmecastiel​​ @cherrie-liquor​​ @deascheck​​ @mrssamfuckingwinchester​​ @winchesterprincessbride​​ @tjforston​​ @babi-correia​​ @helixiaray​​ @writingthingsisdifficult​​ @mysaintsasinner​​ @mogaruke​​ @wheresthekillswitch​​ @skybinx-blog​​ @bohowitch​ @hexparker​ @jensen-jarpad​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​ @masksandtruths

[sassasquashedgrapes]

Deep Love: Part Deux

You still with me? I’m so happy you enjoyed Part One with it’s lengthy, detailed intro.  Now if you’ve noticed, my story is always written in the perspective of the two main protagonists, Quinn Fabray and my OC, Iain Hargreave.  Same format follows, however, I was yet again, as I almost always have, not been able to come across the full ending.  It’s always bee a bad habit of mine, sorry. I do come around to write an ending and there are so many drafts I’ve written down on paper or whatever I could come up with during those long nights of pulling clinical rounds back in my heyday. 

But don’t worry, I’ve got some extra stuff about Iain Hargreave and his long-lost brother, Neil.  I’ve even managed to make a continuity from the supposed ending and it coincided with the New York Season on Glee in its latter part before the show went bye bye. 

Anyway, please leave me a kind message if you would like to read more or have any reactions, be it violent (be gentle with me please!) on this fanfic.  

Ok, carry on!!!  Click below

***

Chapter 7:

Quinn

 Friends.  He wants us to be “just friends”.  

 My heart sinks a little at the thought as I look at his handsome dark, impassive face.   It may not what I hoped for, but at least a little bit of him wants to open up and he is talking civilly enough.  

 Wait!  Hang on a sec.

 Why on earth should I care so much for someone who obviously doesn’t want to have anything to do with me but feels obligated to stick around because he feels sorry for me.  

 Being around Iain is so confusing.  He reminds me of this guy I had a big bad crush on during my Lucy Caboosey days when I was fat, overweight, and unloved.  His name was Phillip Creed and I was obsessed with him. He was the star of the soccer team and was popular, rich, gorgeous with the same dark hair but he had hazel brown eyes. Phil had a girlfriend who picked on me the same way I did to Rachel Berry during sophomore year.  Angelina Wilcox wasted no time at all making me feel like I never had a chance with her boyfriend because of who I was.  Fast forward a few years later minus the fat and rhinoplasty, I still find myself feeling the same way around Iain minus the bitchy girlfriend.

 At least this time, Iain is smiling and he looks more relaxed than usual.  As much as I would never admit this, I have only been around him for less than a week and I missed him terribly when he was away for those three long days.  Some part of me wanted to ask why he was gone. Did he go home to a girlfriend during those days he was at Lima?  The thought of him with some unknown woman leaves me feeling bereft.

 To the point that I blurt my thoughts out loud.  We were in the middle of one of our tutorials when I express my worries vocally.

 I throw Iain a horrid look, instantly regretting my spontaneity. Way to go, Fabray.  Just perfect. It’s like those days when I greeted Phil along the halls and he looked right through me.

 Iain’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.  He was in the middle of discussing the laws of thermodynamics.  Which by the way, was actually pretty sexy considering physics is boring and how he describes it makes it sound so easy.  Never mind that he looks ridiculously hot in a dark blue grey sweatshirt that brings out his blue-gray eyes and cream pants that are immaculately clean. He hesitates for a moment before he throws me a quizzical look.

 “Well, you’ve been gone for three days.  Don’t I at least deserve an explanation for that?  I mean, what if you’re out and gone again for a longer time period?  Maybe your girlfriend misses you terribly?  I might be forced to get a different tutor who isn’t tied down.”

 Iain sighs in relief, probably thinking I worried about him being with somebody.  Not that it was the whole truth, but I do deserve some explanation.

 “I went on a personal leave.  I had some, uh, business to attend to that required me to be out of town for more than a day. I was helping my grandmother move some things out of her apartment because she moved a floor down. And lastly, I hate to dash your delusions that I’ve got some girl waiting for me, but for now, I’m single.”

 Was it me, or did he just emphasize on the word ‘for now’?

 I avoid his piercing gaze because he’s giving me that look that makes me completely uncomfortable.  It’s as if he’s trying to break the walls I’ve built up my whole life. These were the walls that have protected me from ever being disappointed, hurt, and heartbroken.  

 With Finn, there really wasn’t anything there.  I thought there was at first, but it turns out he wasn’t what I wanted.  It was more like I had this urge to relive those ‘glory days’ of him being the town football hero and I was his number one girlfriend, but things have changed through the years and what I felt around him didn’t matter anymore.  Puck, on the other hand, was a disaster.  I admit that I care about him because he is after all, Beth’s father.  However, other than having a baby in common, we weren’t right for each other.  He’s too reckless, selfish, and immature.

 Sam Evans was a sweet guy, but I guess even though he was perfect on paper with his Ken doll good looks and sandy white blond hair, even that wasn’t enough to make my heart pound furiously the same way I react towards this impermeable, mercurial young man sitting across me.

 And here was Iain looking for a way right into it.  If I wasn’t careful, he was probably going to break all those walls in a heartbeat.  

 All he ever had to do was ask.

 But for now, I sigh with relief despite feeling a stab of disappointment, when he doesn’t.  The man leans calmly on his chair, linking his hands behind his back as if waiting for me to answer or throw a quip at what he had just said.

 Focus, Quinn.  Don’t let him get the best out of you.

 “Okay, that makes sense.  But why are you here?  You aren’t from around these parts, I can tell.  So why Lima?” I ask instead.  I notice he’s still debating whether to tell me.  So I put on the pressure.  “I mean, you can tell me since we’re “friends” after all.” Gosh, I didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic on the we’re friends part, but I feel like after what we’ve been through, he owes me some sort of explanation.

 “If you must know, I have a younger brother who doesn’t know I exist.”

 My eyes widen in shock at the news.  In my mind I had played over that maybe Iain was a serial killer, a man with a wife and a kid, or a double agent working for the secret service.  Amongst other creative things that I had thought of his life, this was the last thing I was thinking he was going to say.  

 I wasn’t sure if it was the way he just said it out bluntly or was it another one his methods of throwing me off my guard but I look at his face to see some kind of reaction and he was honestly telling me the truth. In fact, I catch a small sight of something that seems like he’s showing a vulnerable side which he quickly squelches and resumes his impassive mask.

 “I was eight when my mother left my father because she felt......abandoned and they had a big misunderstanding.   She went home to Ohio to live with her sister.  After the divorce papers were settled, she wasn’t heard from again until a few months ago I received word that she had died from cancer. I went through her records and found out that she had left a will to a young boy who was born six months after she was thrown out of the house by my father.”

 “So you’re father never knew your mother was pregnant?”  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.  How could anyone be so cruel and cold-hearted to just to drop someone they chose to marry?  Exactly whatever that misunderstanding that passed between Iain’s parents was, it was that big of a deal to do something so drastic and tragic. My heart went out to Iain, who was such a young boy that he probably couldn’t understand or comprehend anything at the time.

 “Yes.  He’ll never know since he’s also dead. He died in a plane crash before I graduated high school.”

 This just gets more depressing as he keeps going on about the details on his parents’ divorce.

 “Do you still remember her?”

 “Barely.” He answers, but I know somehow that Iain is lying because he just stares blankly at the wall.

 ***

Chapter 8: Iain

 When Quinn asks me if I remember my mother, I knew I was telling her the truth that I barely remembered her.  

 Some memories I have as a child were forcibly blocked so I could deal with the pain.  I know that whatever transpired between her and my father broke something inside and forced me to grow up.

 When my mother left my father, he was heartbroken.  He had remarried several times, but couldn’t stay in a relationship because he either cheated on his wives and they eventually found out, or that he divorced them on grounds that ‘it wasn’t working’.  But I knew better.  My father never got over my mother.  She was his one and only true love and he lost her forever.

 But there was this one memory that I still have of her.  I was four years old at the time and it was during that night when my father brought my mother to the opera.  My mother was in a beautiful full length gown with her pale blonde hair coiffed into a neat chignon.  I went inside their room because I didn’t want them to go out without me, but my mother assured me that they would return.  She kissed me on the cheek tenderly as I caught a whiff of the Chanel No.5 perfume she had put on.  She grabs one of my father’s neckties and patiently teaches me how to tie it.  

 After demonstrating to her twice that I had gotten it right, I remember following her until the top stair cases as she descended down to the hallway where my father was patiently waiting for her.  

 He looked dapper in a tuxedo and smiled gently at my mother as he bowed gallantly and told her she was ‘more beautiful than Grace Kelly”. He took her hand and kissed it and he pulled her towards him and twirled her around as they danced while my father hummed to “Moon River”.  All the while, my mother blushed and laughed heartily and I knew from the looks that they gave each other that they were truly, deeply in love.

It was both the happiest and the saddest memory I possess. I was sent to England a month after my parents’ date to the Opera when my great grandmother found out that I was a child prodigy with a genius level IQ.  

 Genevieve Rolfe-Stuart insisted that I was to live in England, with private tutors.  It was to not only appease my insatiable curiosity and enhance my knowledge, but also to prepare me for Gordonstoun, a private co-educational boarding school in Scotland where my ancestors before me attended.  I was to be separated from my mother, who had visibly objected, but was helpless once Madame (great grandmother) made her choice.  

 My transfer to England broke my mother’s heart.

 Four years later, she and my father divorced.  Since then, my father was too busy to pay me any attention because he buried himself with work which I knew was the only way he coped with the pain.  

 Genevieve didn’t waste time making me wallow in self pity. She hired tutors, most were retired professors from the one of the world’s respected Universities like Cambridge and Oxford.  I was a curious child and a quick learner that my grandparents and Genevieve had taken it in themselves to hide me from all the gossip and emotional turmoil New York had spun from my parents’ divorce.  When I was older, I moved further away to another boarding school in Scotland, where the weather was so cold that I actually forgot to feel miserable and enjoyed my time, especially whenever my mates and I snuck out of school grounds to pick up local girls.

 I notice Quinn’s silence and saw the look of pity on her face. I shrug it away with a wave of a hand and tell her it was all in the past and I didn’t suffer from any emotional scars.  I then threw her a joke (okay it’s a slightly lewd one) about her doing one thing that could cheer me up and then the sad mood disappears.  Like clockwork, she changes the topic because I know that my presence and our underlying mutual attraction to each other distress her.  As if I haven’t noticed the way she checks me out?!  I’m not exactly one to toot my own horn, but I love the way she looks at me.  Like I’m the only one who has the ability to affect her the same way she affects me.

 “So were you able to track your brother?”

 “I haven’t had much luck because I haven’t spent as much time in McKinley High.”

 “What’s his name?”

 “Neil.”  Quinn’s shakes her head saying that she doesn’t recall anyone with that name.

 “If ever he does go to McKinley, he’s probably in the sophomore class.  You said that your mother left you when you were eight, so that would make him a year younger than me.  If he looks anything like you, I would have noticed.”  

 I raise my eyebrow as I take in the soft blonde hair that falls nicely on her beautifully perfect face as her eyes widen at the realization of what she said earlier.  A faint reddish blush escapes those delicately molded cheeks.  It takes a huge restraint on my part not to touch her and feel if that silky fire beneath her porcelain skin, to touch it and know whether that velvet-soft skin feels warm or if it would burn my skin.

 “What I meant was, I would notice him because he would look like you since he’s your brother.” She was stammering and avoiding my gaze.  I start to wonder if anyone in her school has ever made her feel this flustered.  I suddenly get this jealous jolt through my body thinking of some inexperienced, small town dweeb from that school who has the same ability. I dismiss the thought because whoever that motherfucker is, I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.

 Whoa easy there, Hargreave.  

 I remember my little sister, Chelsea telling me this interesting theory of hers that men turn into Neanderthals when it comes to their women. We were going through her studies and she read me a poem called “The Cave girl” by Mae West when she had voiced out her opinion.  Now that I think of it, perhaps maybe I am a caveman after all.  All I need now is a big club.

 “So does that mean you’re going to help me?”

 “I can do the best I can.  But Glee club isn’t the most attractive club for teenagers.  I’m no longer a cheerleader, as you know so the other way is to form a Christian Praise group.  I’m going to call it, the God Squad.” “What makes you think my brother is the Church going folk?” I try to smother a laugh as Quinn throws me a dark look.

 “It isn’t fun to make a joke out of religion and God.”

 I raise my hands in surrender.  “I didn’t mean to offend you.  I respect the whole concept that people put their faith into God and all.” “But...” She waits for me to respond because she just knows I’m going to say more.

 “But nothing.  Look, let’s just drop this Quinn.  I think it’s cool that you‘re trying to help me.  But I want to be more hands on and find a way that I can get close to my brother. He isn’t aware that he has family. I doubt my mother would want to cause him any grief about what happened between her and my father.  I also know that my mother would never make my brother bear any hatred towards my father even though what he did was rather....cold.”

 “Tell me more about your mother,” Quinn implores.   I did my best to recount the information I’ve gathered about her.  As it was, Lisa Mae Sheridan had been a ballet dancer.  Not essentially talented, according to the reviews, but she was unquestionably beautiful and the audience could never take their eyes off her when she danced.  I tried to recall the ones mentioned by the reviews and articles, because I had blocked most of my memories of her and the only thing remaining of her was a scrapbook of the articles that she kept and left for me so I would never forget her. My mother tried her hand at Broadway musicals where the critics panned her acting, but praised her legs.  She was glamorous as she was beautiful.  The gossip columns hinted that she had serious romances with A-list celebrity stars like George Clooney before he was famous and that famous director, Quentin Tarantino.  But the article that she saved for last was when she married by father with an elated look on her face as she ran down the cathedral steps whilst she held on to his arm as a people showered them with white petals.  

 The marriage lasted nine years.  Long enough for my mother to get pregnant with me within the first year of their marriage and have a sleazy affair with a polo player.  She left my father to return to her hometown when he discovered her and the said tryst.  

 I carefully omitted the word “Polo player” and replace it with something like a sleazy neighbor because I don’t want Quinn to feel as uneasy with me if she finds out that I come from money. Actually, I re-hash most of the entire story and tell her instead that my mother was a former ballet dancer from Ohio who chose to marry my boring, workaholic father over George Clooney. Several years later, she decided that she had enough of domestic life. Out of spite, she made my father believe that she was having an affair with the dodgy gay neighbor.

 Beyond that, I knew little of my mother.  I then later relayed that the whole incident between my mother and the polo player was a misunderstanding because it turned out that he was gay and was a close friend of my mother’s.  But alas, living the way we do where society gossip mongers would do anything to destroy something so pure as true love, my father fell for it and threw her out of the house without any explanation from her side.  

 He then filed for divorce and took full custody of me.  My dad would have pulled out every political influence he could so he could file a restraining order and get sole custody of me. In the end, it turned out that he didn’t have to resort to anything for my mother hadn’t bothered to wait for the court hearing, nor did she oppose him.  Instead, she signed the divorce papers and told the lawyer that she forgives my father and loved me very much.

 When my father had realized his mistake, he was too proud to beg for forgiveness.

 He died without ever seeing my mother again.

 I knew she was going to ask a lot of questions.  I patiently answered each.  I’m not exactly the sharing type of person when it comes to personal stuff.  In fact, no one has ever dared probe on this topic.  I usually brush snooping journalists off and dazzle them with my charm, but somehow, some profound feeling that I choose to ignore right now, I want Quinn to understand this part of my life.  I sure as hell haven’t been honest about a lot of things, but there’s this tug at my conscience that wants me to give her some compensation for the other lies.  

 Well, they’re not technically lies. I just chose to omit some important details such as my net worth, my wealthy social background, you know those things.

 “Did your father ever remarry?”

 “He remarried a couple of times, but they never worked out. I guess he wasn’t completely over my mother.  I did gain a step-sister out of his attempts.  She’s thirteen and a real pain in the ass.” I roll my eyes laughing as I tell her about Chelsea.

 “Does she know about Neil?”

 “I think she has an idea, Chelsea’s a pretty resourceful kid.”

 “Who raised you after?”

 “No one and everyone.  My great grandmother acted as my legal guardian.”

 “That sounds pretty harsh.” I shrug it off nonchalantly.  “It’s the way things have always been, Quinn.  I was in boarding school most of the time. Parental supervision was mostly provided by the faculty.  I pretty much grew up around adults most of my life.”

 “It sounds pretty lonely.”

 “Don’t worry, I didn’t suffer from any emotional scars. In fact, I think it was probably the best thing to do given my situation.  You deal with what you have to deal with.  I can take care of myself.  It’s Neil I’m worried about.”

I breathe in and exhale deeply.  “A few months ago, after I had found out about my brother I did a background check on my mother’s family.”  I frown and shake my head.  “They aren’t doing so well.  My aunt...my mother’s twin sister, lives in one of the toughest neighborhoods and I can’t imagine what life is like for my brother.  I read from the reports that he’s a lot like me and it just eats my conscience knowing that I’ve been living in luxury and he’s been having it rough.  He deserves much better, Quinn.  He needs to know what really happened.  I know it sounds cruel to break it down to him now that he’s much older, but I’d be damned to just stand there and do nothing.”

 I look down at my hands.

 “I’m not going to leave him like my dad.  I’m nothing like him at all.” I mutter despairingly, unaware if Quinn could hear the last part.  I’ve never in my entire life felt guilty for living the way I do.  I had earned whatever billions of dollars I’ve made, I had worked my ass off twice as harder than anyone to become the person I am today, and I knew in my heart that my brother deserves to have the same privilege I had.  I never meant to say it out loud that this situation was making me feel like crap.  I hate getting emotional over things like this and right now I could use a drink. Or a cigarette if I still smoked.  I kicked the habit a year ago and I wasn’t going to start again, knowing that it was also the cause of my grandfather’s demise.

Suddenly, Quinn reaches out her hand and I feel her dainty fingers try to cover mine.  She looks into my eyes and reassures me that we would find my brother.

Heaven help me, my palm is starting to twitch from the warm fuzzies.  

 Suddenly, I’m feeling much better.

 Then it occurs to me that I am not a warm fuzzies kind of man.

 But I’ll make an exception whenever she touches me.

 ***

Chapter 9: Quinn

 The next day is a whirl of excitement.  

 My mother and sister are going away for the week on a Mother-Daughter excursion.  The local church raffled tickets to a Cruise trip to the Bahamas and they had just announced a few days ago that my mother won.  They had to leave today.  My father had a business trip to Texas and they decide to hire Iain to watch over me for the week.  

 I’m reeling from the news.

 I also realize that I’ve gone down from my room only to be told by my Mom while Iain’s sitting on the breakfast bar.  He’s wearing a cream collared long sleeved pullover shirt, dark olive green cotton military trousers and dark gray Chelsea leather boots. There’s a hint of facial stubble as I notice how his five o’clock shadow looks amazing on him, making Iain look more mature, sophisticated with this “I-can-still-look-hot-even-if-I-don’t-have-the-time-to-shave” attitude.  I usually prefer clean shaven men, but he pulls it off so well that I’m more than willing to make an exception.  He gives me a knowing smile and I blush furiously because I’m still in my nightgown. It’s an oversized mint green shirt that reaches a little above my knees with the words “Bear Hug” emblazoned above. The shirt depicts a huge black bear that looks like it’s hugging me with its paws strategically placed on each of my butt cheeks.  At least I’m not wearing my plush Unicorn slippers, which was my Christmas gift from Britney because I could have died right here and there.

 “That’s nice, Mom.” I nod, as if without a care in the world. “Good morning, Iain.”

 “Good morning,” he murmurs not taking his eyes off the bear. I curse myself because I’m not wearing a bra underneath.

 “You better get dressed, Iain will take you to school.” My mother kisses my cheek quickly.  Iain steps off his stool and turns to help my mother with her bags.  Fran’s outside waiting patiently.  They strode off in minutes and I make a beeline to the bathroom.

 I shower quickly and choose to wear something that’ll make me look sophisticated and not trying too hard.  I go for a collared white lace blousy dress with a slightly open v-neck with holes designed like paisleys then top it off with a yellow and white headband. Then I get a leather chunky belt and cinch it to the middle and accentuate the whole outfit with chunky-heeled brown and white Oxfords.  I always wear my gold cross as a reminder of my faith and hopefully, God will erase Iain’s earlier memory of me and that Bear Hug shirt when he finds me wearing this.

 As I make my way down, Iain is on his mobile phone.  He’s rolled up his pullover at the sleeves and I get a good glimpse of those bronzed muscled forearms and his hands as he mindlessly twirls a pen around his strong, masculine fingers.  I watch as my mouth goes dry wondering what those hands would feel like running through my hair and how that stubble on his chin would feel against my skin.      

 “And the accounts on Strasbourg?” he asks, still on the phone. “Great.  Inform Miller and tell him to send me a copy through e-mail.”

 There’s a long pause.  He listens attentively, his handsome features focused and determined as he coolly nods as to whatever exchange was going on the other line.

 “Yes.  Call the Washington office and relay to labor relations the news about Detroit. They’re bound to have the same problems as well.”  He says calmly on the phone.

 I don’t feel comfortable listening in on his conversation so I go upstairs and pretend that I’m going down for the first time.  His head jerks up suddenly and he mutters on the other line before he kills the call.

 “Hi,” I say a little too brightly.

 “Hi there,” he nods, completely oblivious to what I’m wearing. Great plan impressing him Quinn, he’s completely stunned my Cheerio cheerleader sneers.  You should have worn the uniform.  Men just love cheerleaders.  Oh, which reminds me you aren’t one anymore.  The inner bitch queen is laughing at the snide remark.

 He looks a bit nervous.  “Did you just get down?  I’m really sorry I wasn’t able to make you breakfast.  It’s a little too early for school and your dad’s given me a bunch of errands to do, so do you want to grab something to eat? It’s my treat.” He looks so adorable when he’s blabbering his head off I can’t resist him.  

 I nod wordlessly, thinking about the call he made earlier. What does he do during his free time, I wonder.  A while ago, he was oddly formal and businesslike when he made that call that I started to doubt if there were any UPS chains in a Europe, like particularly in Strasbourg. I don’t think the UPS stores my Dad works for had a branch beyond the United States, but then what did I know about delivery services?

 “Sure.” I just say. He extends his arm and motions me for something.  “What is it?” I ask eyeing him dubiously.

  “Your bag, please Ma’am,” Iain answers dryly.  He is offering to carry my bag.  

 Aw, how sweet.

 “I can carry it, thanks.”

 “Then let me hold it for you while you put on your sweater.” He nods to the yellow mustard cardigan I’m clutching on my other arm. “It’s nippy outside.  I wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

 I roll my eyes and hand him my school bag as I wear my sweater. It doesn’t have any holes to button them in so I leave it open.  Before I can take my bag from him, Iain turns around quickly and heads off for the garage. I trot along his wake not without first admiring his broad shoulders and his butt.  Okay I know, I admit it.  I maybe a conservative Christian, but I’m also a girl who knows when to appreciate a handsome sexy man with an amazing body and Iain’s is just perfect.  He’s sinewy, lean and muscular all over and it’s obvious that the man does work out.

 The gorgeous Adonis opens my bags and looks for my keys.  He switches off the alarm and we both climb inside my red Volkswagen Beetle.   He settles himself adjusting the seat to his tall frame as his takes out an iPod from his jacket and plugs it in.  He backs the car easily and we both drive in silence.  

 It’s also ironic that the first song to be played on his iPod reflects on our mood.  It’s a rock tune that’s dominated by the sound of the piano and drums (how typical Iain) with a male singer, ostentatiously British, crooning about how Silence is Easy.  

 “I guess my iPod’s not a morning person,” Iain remarks as he throws me a sideways glance.  I giggle in spite of myself, my shoulders shaking in mirth while I bite my lower lip from bursting in laughter.  He looks at me sternly, his eyes on my lips and my jaw drops. He instantly sits up and focuses again on the road with a smirk on his face “You must think I’m a boring stiff with a playlist filled with piano classics.”

 “Actually, I also thought of the Beatles and other old music old people listen to.”

 Iain snorts and rolls his eyes as he hands me the iPod list. “Go pick a song.  I’ll have you know that I do possess an eclectic taste in music.”  

 I thumb across the dial to find a bunch of artists ranging from different rock genres, hip-hop, and pop music.  I hastily thumb through the collections of albums from Radiohead, Sting, U2, Bob Marley, Bloc Party, Stone Temple Pilots, John Legend, and other big name bands which he has most if not all the albums.   I also notice he listens to trip hop and dance music. Then, I see his classic collection of Bach, Mozart, Rachmaninoff, and Ryuichi Sakamoto.  He even has a bunch of Renaissance music with Thomas Tallis, Alonso Lobo and William Byrd. I’ve probably listened to Spem Alium like several times after seeing it on the Tudors because I was crushing on Charles Brandon big time.  Iain sort of reminds me of the actor that played the dashing Duke of Suffolk, both men are ridiculously gorgeous for their own good.  

 “It’s getting pretty quiet on my end here, Quinn.”

 “Hold on to your boxer shorts, I’m still finding a good song.” I answer irritably.

“Mighty feisty in the morning, aren’t we?”  He chuckles as he makes a U-turn when the car comes around a bend.

 “I’m hungry.”

 “So am I.  But unlike you, at least I know when to curb my temper.  Here, let me try.”  He grabs the iPod from my hands and quickly scans the playlist.  I’m amazed he’s able to do this while he keeps his eyes on the road. “To atone for the earlier song selection,” he adds as he presses on a button when the song ends.

 The song starts out in a soft drum beat and bass.  The female singer has the most unusual voice; it’s a mezzo-soprano with a voice that resonates like she’s emotional and about to cry. I love the way she delivers the song because she sounds as if she's shivering. The effect is astounding, as the music is light, dreamy, and ethereal. She’s like a goddess from outer space. Or an alien singing underwater like one of those Pilot whales I once saw in Discovery Channel.

 “It’s called Beautiful.” Iain throws me another sideways glance, as if reading my thoughts.

 “It is beautiful,” I agree as I take the iPod and read the selection.  It’s sung by a group called Mandalay. I make a mental note to download it on iTunes soon. We listen to the rest of the song in silence until the next song plays. It’s from the Flaming Lips called Do You Realize??  The upbeat seventies-like tempo changes our somber mood and Iain plies me to talk about me and my family. They’re pretty generic questions and I get this impression that he’s doing this so I would relax.  It turns out to be an effective strategy of his, as I find myself at ease with him and I tell him stories about my other relatives.  He’s an attentive listener as he nods his head and smiles at some of the antics my crazy painter grandfather Fabray did during my family’s last visit.  I turn to look at him but his eyes are still on the road, his face looks relaxed as he concentrates on his driving.  

 “So tell me about your plan on how you’re going to find Neil?”

 He shrugs his shoulders.  “I haven’t had the foggiest idea.  My last attempt was an epic fail.  First, Principal Figgins assigns me as a substitute teacher for the seniors class only to move me to Night school the next day.”

 I quirk my eyebrow as I look at him. “Any reason why he would do such a thing?”

 Iain looks bewildered.  He obviously doesn’t realize how attractive he is, how women stare at him and ogle. Doesn’t he know the effect he has on women?  

 More importantly, how he affects me?  

 For some inexplicable reason, this attraction I feel for him cuts out on most of the bullshit drama I used to employ with the other guys from my past.  Iain scares me because he makes me feel exposed and vulnerable, yet I can talk freely to him about anything. I get this feeling that the two songs playing are about him.  He really is so beautiful.  I’d cry like the Mandalay singer and get emotional too, if I had a voice like that.

 “It’s beyond me.” He shakes his head.  The song skips and moves into another livelier tune.  It’s an upbeat remix of Empire of the Sun’s Walking on a Dream.  I loved the original, but I’m amazed that Iain’s found a good dubstep version of it. He turns the car to the left and we arrived to IHop.  I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

 Iain laughs as he shuts the engine off. “What?  You got something against IHOP?” He looks momentarily worried.  “We can go somewhere else, if you like.”

 I shake my head.  “I just can’t imagine you eating in IHop.”  Actually, what I was really thinking that was our first ‘sort of date’ unofficial date and out of all the choices of where to dine, it’s at IHOP. It’s not really a date, I quickly remind myself.  I could have cooked my own breakfast, but somehow Iain has taken it up on himself to provide me with that.  It’s a thrilling feeling, but I also feel like it’s a backhanded thing because it also means he get to treat me like a child.

 Iain gives me an incredulous look.  He cross his eyebrows and rolls his eyes as he ambles out of the car.

“Come on, you’ll be late for school at this rate.”

 We enter the restaurant with the smell of buttermilk pancakes and fried food wafting in the air.  My stomach grumbles in response.  I don’t know if Iain possesses superhuman hearing, because he looks slightly peeved and motions me to sit on a booth near the window.

 “I used to come to IHOP when I was studying for my exams in Harvard,” he explains as he takes a seat across me.  “There were times when I went with my roommates to Denny’s but I like the food here better.” He shrugs as a waitress in her early thirties approaches us.  Her name is something I don’t really pay attention to because she’s looking at Iain like he’s the breakfast that’s about to be served.  My eyes narrow in jealousy as I cross my arms while Iain mulls over the menu without even looking at her.

 “We’ll have two orders of the original buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup and bacon on the side, two glasses of orange juice, and coffee with the works.” I answer her with daggers glistening from my eyes.

 “Yeah, that’ll do. Thanks.” Iain agrees and I’m rewarded with one of his dashing smiles.  I flush with joy because his full attention is centered on me.  Jane (I finally notice the name tag) writes down both orders before she sends out a long sigh and walks away.    

 “You seem pissed about something.” Iain remarks as he leans back against his seat and looks at me speculatively.

 “That girl was looking at you like you were the main course.”

 “Quinn Fabray, are you jealous?”  Iain teases as his face lights up in mock surprise.  I note how his blue eyes are dancing mischievously like he’s thrilled about the whole thing.

 “No,” I snap angrily.  “Stop laughing at me.  I’m serious! It’s the way you affect women.  Haven’t you noticed? Or are you just completely blind?”

 “It’s just looks,” he answers exasperatedly as he throws both hands in the air in surrender because he can’t help himself with that situation.  And he’s right, he can’t.  

 “Please tell me you do notice.”

 “Yes, I have.  But I’ve learned long ago that they don’t matter.  Believe me, when you get to be around my age, you’ll learn not to care.”

 “When you get to be around my age?  Wow, you sound old.”

 Iain bursts out laughing like a loon.  I notice some people turn around and look at us with this stunned expression on their faces.  Like as if they couldn’t believe I’ve just made this beautiful man laugh his head off. After a few moments, he settles down.

 “You’re very relaxing company, do you know that?” He gives me one of those signature panty-dropping smiles of his and it’s a good thing we’re sitting down because I’m beginning to feel weak at the knees already.

 “Are you prevaricating?”

“No, I meant every word.” He looks pensive for a while, reflecting on something.  “I just didn’t realize how tense I was until now.  Your vocabulary is astounding, by the way.”

 I almost shake myself from the rapid switch of topics and his compliment.  I compose myself before I get another absence episode.

“Well, I do like to read.” Jane is back with our food.  She takes the longest time to serve Iain first and I glare at her. Iain is looking at me with a salacious smile on his face, reading into my thoughts.  He appears as if my jealous rage gives him some perverse joy.  He barely notices Jane waiting anxiously for him to acknowledge her.  He just smiles at me, his eyes never leaving my face and mutters his thanks to her with a wave of dismissal when she’s finally done placing down my order.  Jane obviously looks disappointed as she strolls back to the counter.

 “What books do you like to read?”

 “Just about anything. When I was younger I didn’t have a lot of friends because I looked studious so I took comfort in books. When I was a kid, I found myself reading Fran’s assignment books.  But what I enjoy nowadays are world legends and fairy tales.  I’ve always thought there was something romantic about the Japanese Feudalism too. The story about Samurais and Geishas always gets to me.  Lately, I’ve been reading Indian mythology.”  I hesitate when Iain regards me in silence while he eats.

 “I’m sorry, am I boring you?” I turn my attention to my plate and start scarfing down my pancakes.  

 Iain shakes his head.  “Not at all.  In fact, I find you to be the most interesting person I’ve been with for the longest time.  I can’t even remember being this enthralled by anyone at all,” he looks surprised with himself as the words come out his mouth, like he’s just discovered this fact too.  He shakes his head suddenly, as if to cover himself with that remarkable discovery.  “So the answer is no, you haven’t bored me at all.  Why the fascination with Indian myth?  I’m assuming this is the South Asian culture you’re talking about?”

 My heart slams into my rib cage at the impact of his confession of me being the most interesting person he’s met.

  “Uhm, yes.” I almost choke at my pancake and take a long sip of orange juice while I continue.  

 “I guess it all started with my fascination for elephants. When I was a little girl, my dad took me to the local zoo.  There was this elephant named Raja that was brought in from India a few weeks before we visited.  People would bring their kids to see him.  He was a beautiful white elephant, the rarest of their kind.  He was just magnificent.  When we visited him, there were other children offering him peanuts and I knew I didn’t stand a chance of him noticing me.  I was chubby, wore glasses and had braces.”

 I exhale as Iain regards me in silence.  He’s done with his food and sips his coffee as I continue. “But he noticed me.  He approached me and reached his trunk out and took my peanut.  He didn’t want what the other kids were offering, he just wanted mine.   Then he reached his trunk again and briefly touched my hand almost as if he sensed I was lonely and in that time frame, I could sense that he too was feeling the same way.  We looked at each other for a moment and I just felt....connected to him. I know it sounds crazy, but it felt like magic.  Then his trainer shouts a command which he then turns away, not before sending me another lonely glance.  Like he was thanking me for even the briefest moment that we shared together and that it had meant just as much to him like it did me.  I begged my dad that we should visit him again, but it took him a long while before he complied.  When I did, Raja was gone. The zookeepers said that he was transferred to another bigger facility because he was miserable and wasn’t eating well.  I never saw him again.”

 I wave my hand to shake off the gloomy mood.  “Anyway, going back to elephants in general. They’re my favorite animals in the world.  Other people like dogs and cats, but I’ve always thought that they’re too clingy and being around them can be claustrophobic.  Elephants on the other hand are independent.  They’re big enough to take care of themselves.  They’ve gone by without our help for thousands of years. I have this theory that they choose to be tamed rather than the other way around.”

 “Or maybe it’s the human that ends up being tamed?” Iain suggests softly, his tender smile tells me that he wholeheartedly understands.  

 I sagely nod in agreement, ignoring the rapid beating of my heart.  “Maybe.”

  A long moment of companionable repartee follows.  I allow myself to listen to Iain as he talks about his time as a boy growing up in England before his parents’ divorce.  He said that he moved with his great grandmother, who by the way sounds like a real terror dragon lady.  When I voice out my opinion, he laughs and nods saying that people have the same impression whenever they meet her.  He tells me stories about how his father remarried Chelsea’s mother, who was a flighty thing that never cared about her daughter’s welfare and that soon after their divorce, Iain’s father immediately adopted her and took sole custody. I listen to him tell me stories about the times when his grandfather was alive and how they used to spend hours at a time playing songs on the piano.  I also find out that Iain can also plays the guitar and because of his upbringing, he can speak French, Spanish, and Gaelic because his great grandmother is Scottish and insisted that he learn the language.

 I enjoy so much of his time that I barely notice that I’m almost late for school.  When Iain realizes this, he swears a mouthful before he ends up paying for the bill, leaving a huge tip for Jane and we hurriedly head back to the car.  He drives the car in anxious silence and we come across the grounds of William McKinley High.

 “I’m really sorry about that.” He looks sheepish and nervous when he puts the car on neutral.  “It won’t happen again.” Are you kidding me?  I wouldn’t exchange that moment for anything in the world.

 “I had fun.” I tell him, rewarding him with a shy smile.  I don’t know what it is about him.  He’s such a complex character, full of layers and is so dynamic that I wonder how I manage to keep up with him.  I reflect in that moment that maybe it’s because of this that it cuts out all the bullshit and the only thing we have left is honestly.

 “Yeah, me too.” Iain agrees somberly, giving me a half-smile that I think is his own way of giving out an equally genuine shy smile. I realize he’s reluctant to leave. I also don’t want to leave either, but Lucy Caboosey is dragging my bag and my books to school.

 Suddenly, an idea pops in my head.  Brain blast! I can take my tea and eat my cake too.

 “Listen, do you have anything to do after you’re done running errands for my dad?  I have this brilliant idea on how you can get back to school and find Neil.”

 Iain raises his eyebrows.  “Okay,” he says slowly.  “What’s your plan?  I could go along with it tomorrow.”  

I tell him.

 * **

 “So this is your good idea of a cover-up?” Iain leans over to me and whispers suspiciously as he scans the auditorium after briefly making introductions. Since that fateful night when he found me doing afterhours schoolwork, he quit his job at night school to spend more time with me.  I told him that he could cover for our school pianist, Brad, who was suffering from a bad case of gastroenteritis.  I was also able to convince Mr Schuster that Iain was a gifted musician and of his plans to do Juilliard in the future. Mr Schu pretty much ate up anything since nothing was going to deter him from winning Nationals.  

 I ignore the shivers running down my spine as I feel his breath on my face as he leaned down to whisper that comment. He looks divine in a three button collared grey pullover sweater that’s unbuttoned and open, revealing his black undershirt, distressed blue jeans that match his eyes, and a pair of chocolate brown boots that makes him look like a Hollywood superstar that just landed on LAX. Yes, this macho hunk drives me to school every day for one week and I can pretend that he’s following me around today like a lovesick puppy.  My inner queen bitch is thrilled as I smile triumphantly while we pass the hallway side by side.  I can see from my peripheral vision that all the girls are gawking at him, mouths wide open, drooling with lust.  Iain doesn’t notice a thing and his attention is focused on me while he waits for me to answer him.

 He’s mine, bitches, all mine!!! My inner queen bitch is chanting gaily while doing the cabbage patch.

 “Do you want to see your brother or not? I got you off from working at night school so the least you can do is thank me.”  I pick up my pace and hurriedly take my seat while Iain looks on.  He shrugs and settles in, introducing himself to the other band members.  They nod and shake his hand. When all introductions were made, he resumes back to his position by the piano.

 Mr Schuester looks stressed.  He drones on about winning Sectionals and goes on about the winning pieces he wants to use.  Tension is building up and I can see it’s not just Mr. Schue who’s feeling the brunt. Finn has been non-stop confrontational since Blaine moved out of his old school.  Rachel is, well, Rachel Berry as usual.  

 I note Tina and Sugar gaping at Iain as he, unmindful that he has an audience, ruffles through some of this week’s suggested song selections. I turn around and see Kurt and Blaine with the same dreamy look on their faces.  A slight pang of jealousy flows through me as I watch Rachel scurry down over to Iain blabbering on what songs she would sing and questioning Iain’s capability to keep up with her talent when a gritty voice breaks my thoughts.

 “Is it me, or are you threatened that someone might steal away your boyfriend?” Noah Puckerman asks as he is seated behind me and leans forwards, regarding me sardonically with those dark green eyes.  I notice Iain out of my peripheral vision, turn to look towards our direction, barely listening to a word Rachel says.  I ignore the hostile look on Iain’s handsome face as I lean against my chair.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply cooly, keeping my gaze straight ahead of me.  Iain seems more in tune with my conversation with Puck.  Rachel barely has a clue that he isn’t even listening to a word she says. He curtly nods, politely dismissing her by giving one of those signature Iain Hargreave disarming, panty-dropping smile of his, which Rachel responds with a gasp and a blush escaping her cheeks as she turns and darts quickly back to her place.  Finn is looking both at Rachel and Iain like he just swallowed a whole bottle of vinegar.  Iain resolutely ignores Finn’s glowering gaze and turns his attention to Puck. Neither men are backing down from the stare down that it’s so immature, I almost roll my eyes.

 “Oh, really? “ Puck scoffs as he continues on with his staring match against Iain.  As much as this might seem like a turn on, having two boys fight over me, it isn’t. I was worried that if Iain lost his cool, he would blow up his cover and then his hopes of finding Neil would then be futile.  Turns out, I didn’t have to worry because Iain responds to Puck’s menacing appraisal by looking bored, almost unaffected.

 “Then tell me why is he looking at me like he’s about to beat the crap out of me?”

 “I didn’t know you were so scared.”

 “I’d watch it if I were you,” Puck looks at me seriously. “I know guys like him.  The ones that think they’re God’s gift to women, being so perfect on the outside but rotten to the core.  At least with me, I’m all what you get.”

 “And you’ll never get that chance ever again, so please drop it.”

 “Fine, whatever you say, your Highness.”

 Iain starts playing a song selection called Famous by a British Indie band, Scouting for Girls.  Blaine carries it off beautifully as always.  Iain looks so comfortable on the piano, with his masculine hands dancing away as Blaine croons to the catchy retro 80’s beat.  I remember this song blasting from Iain’s iPod when he dropped me off earlier.  “You’re going to snap your neck doing that,” Iain teased, almost gently, when he noticed me bobbing my head to the music.   If ever I had doubts that Iain couldn’t play a pop song, they dissipate as he looks capable and even sings along to it.  He’s got a pretty decent voice too, I sigh as I tilt my head to look at him while he sings merrily along to the tune.  I don’t care if the other girls in the New Directions have wistful looks on their faces, even Santana looks mildly interested.  I get to go home with him for a week, I grin triumphantly. I watch with glee while Iain practically enjoys himself; his normally icy cool demeanor relaxes as he tinkers those black and white keys without a care in the world.  

 I compare him to the other guys in the room and find that he is unlike anyone I’ve ever met.  He’s tall, maybe two inches shorter than Finn, but definitely taller than Sam.  Unlike Finn, who is awkward with his towering height, Iain is comfortable with his own body. His movements remind me of a sleek panther: graceful, agile, athletic and almost predatory.  Fortunately, unlike Blaine who is the second best looking guy present in the room, Iain isn’t gay.

 I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy could dance as well as Mike Chang.  He is definitely not naive.  He looks worldly and yet could appear affable, being just as comfortable in a myriad of people from different social classes.  He possesses a hint of rebellion like Puck, but unlike the former who screams danger, Iain’s aura whispers it.  He seems to have also gained appreciation from Artie and the new Irish kid who has taken a shine on him.  He emanates sexiness which I now understand why Principal Figgins moved him to teach Night Classes because he served as a distraction for every hormonally induced teenage girl.  

 It wasn’t until the meeting was over that I was approached by Rachel in the bathroom. I was busy fixing myself in front of the mirror when she settles in beside me.

 “So that was Iain.”

 “What about it?” I ask as I applied mascara. I knew gossip flowed about me having him as my legal guardian.  Since my mother and Fran had decided to go on a Mothers & Daughters for Christ Cruise to the Bahamas, Iain’s been living with me.  How my father has approved of this has again baffled me, but at least Iain keeps his end of the bargain by acting like a gentleman because he sleeps on the living room couch.  

 Since that incident when he found me doing night school, he’s also volunteered to drive me to school and bring me home. I would have protested, but he’s persistent, saying that since my dad has given him a list of things to do, it’s convenient in his part.  I agree to meet him halfway at the Beanery, which was a few blocks from school, that way people wouldn’t take it the wrong way and think that I was living in sin with a man who is just as sinful as the devil himself.

 “He’s very handsome.”

 “You plan on stealing him too like you did with Finn?”  I turn to face her and instantly regret the words that pop out of my mouth.  I know that we may never get along given our history, but that never meant that we weren’t friends.  Rachel has long tried to be one for me even though I always found a way to rebuke her. She quickly waves off her hand when I try to apologize.

 “I meant to say that Iain is handsome but he isn’t my type because he intimidates me.  He reminds me of Damon from Vampire Diaries.  Tall, dark hair, intense blue eyes, gorgeous male model looks but really scary as a whole package.  I also see the way you look at him and I know you like him a lot and that you might have, um, feelings for him.  I also see the way he looks at you, Quinn.  He’s crazy about you.”

 “He barely pays me any attention.” I try to look bored but my heart is racing like I’ve been running a marathon.  Iain has feelings for me?  It sounds so ridiculous I could barely fathom the guy being the hearts and flowers type going down on one knee and proclaiming his undying love for me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t fantasize about him doing it.  I just didn’t think that was.....possible.

  I’ve seen the way Iain reacts when I’m around like he can’t get enough of me and that alone jolts my system and puts my senses into overdrive.  I know he can tell that I feel the same way too, but somehow he doesn’t act on it because he hesitates like he seriously believes that his profoundly lacking.  

 In the short span of time I’ve spent with him, my ego has grown into bigger proportions that I know Iain genuinely likes me.

 It would be easy to believe that I wasn’t pretty enough, sophisticated or classy for this red-blooded handsome debonair modern day Disney prince, but I knew that wasn’t true.  

 I can read just as much through his own bullshit as he can mine, which is surprising because with Finn, Puck, and Sam they could never tell what I’m thinking.  It isn’t like that with Iain.  He scares, excites, thrills me more than any man I’ve ever met.  But there are things about him that he keeps to himself, just like me.  We’ve been so jaded from our past that there’s this brick wall that’s stopping us from ever revealing our feelings.  It’s so frustrating sometimes that I think it’s impossible to pursue a relationship with anyone who’s remotely like me.

 “That’s because he knows you’re also looking at him. He stares at you whenever he gets the chance.  He smiles when you smile or laugh at something funny.   And he seems nice, Quinn apart from the fact that he looks pissed most of the time.  Maybe if you could find your way past everything that happened to you and –“

“I appreciate your concern, Rachel, but I don’t need your advice.” I frostily answer as I turn and leave the bathroom.  As I make my way down the hall, I notice a tall young man with a shock of jet black hair walking past by.  He’s well over six feet in height and was just as imposing as someone whom I know so well that I breathe inward in my excited state.

 It is Iain’s younger brother!

 It wasn’t that hard to track him down as his muscular frame is visible through the crowd.  I notice some girls in Cheerio uniforms giving him the same appreciative glances as they do with Iain.  Good looks definitely run in the family, I grimace as I follow him move out of the school grounds.  

 He continues to amble easily and heads towards the field and out to the parking lot.  He then approaches a white top down convertible and the look of horror settles on me as the dark tinted windows roll down as he laughs while giving out high fives to a bunch of boys his age wearing familiar dark blue blazers with red trimmings.

 Neil wasn’t just a student at McKinley High.

 He’s from Dalton Academy!

I watch from the shadows as he exchanges a few words to the boys whom I assume are his team mates because they look just as buff as Iain’s imposing younger brother. After a few minutes, the car makes its quiet exit out of the school grounds.  He turns his head sideways as if to check for any witnesses and saunters his way back to campus as if nothing out of the usual happened.  From the time that I’ve stalked Neil, I already make out a few differences and compare them to his implausible older brother.

 Neil is handsome, broad-shouldered and long legged like his brother.  Unlike Iain, Neil is taller by a few more inches and I’m guessing he’s around the same height as Finn if not taller.  Also, unlike Iain, his younger brother is more muscular and looks to be even older than his given sixteen years.  

 In fact, he has the same intimidating pose as Iain as I note that they share the same good looks except I find Iain far more attractive, because of his leaner physique, angular jaw line, and smooth cultured refined stance while his brother looks tough, capable and just a tad angry  with this “don’t mess with me” vibe.  

 I couldn’t quite make out the color of his eyes as his dark, almost black hair and eyebrows hood his similar almond shaped piercing gaze. I laugh at myself thinking how similar and yet different both brothers are.  Iain has the old Hollywood glamour of a Dolce &  Gabbana male model  while his brother looks fit to be a cast member from Friday Night Lights.  Not that it’s a bad thing, I actually find myself intrigued at the thought of another Hargreave that I walk towards Neil who stops by his locker with his back facing me when I gently tap his shoulder.

 He turns around and I find myself staring at the most fascinating pair of eyes I’ve ever seen.  His eyes were blue on the outer layer but with a central golden-brown ring on the middle of his iris that reminds me of what the rays of the sun would look on a clear blue sky.  It’s a beautiful contrast against his dark almost midnight black hair and bronze skin.

 Neil notices that I’m staring and stalling time that he initiates the conversation.  I duly note that he’s equally as charming and suave as his brother. Instead of feeling flustered as I always do with the mercurial Iain whose mood flits from calm to stormy, I find myself at ease, relaxing to his much affable, calmer younger brother when he laughs at my reaction.

 “It’s called central heterochromia.  It’s a rare genetic condition where both eyes share two different colors.  My name’s Neil by the way.” He extends his hand as if to shake it.  

 I take his hand and shake it.  “I’m Quinn. Quinn Fabray”

 He surprises me by bowing down and kissing my hand.  I quickly retract it as he chuckles to himself, taking in what I could imagine was an image of myself blushing from the end of my roots.  

 “To what do I owe this pleasure of meeting you on this fine afternoon, Miss Fabray?” Neil raises his eyebrows as he gives off a signature Hargreave lazy smile that was designed to knock women off their feet and drop their panties.

 Perfect.  Are all Hargreave men this charming and devastatingly handsome? I could almost envision what their father was like when he was alive.  If he was anything like his two sons, it wouldn’t be a wonder why their mother chose him over George Clooney.

 “I was wondering if you’re new here.  I haven’t seen you around in school.  Are you a sophomore?”

 “Junior,” he corrected.  “I skipped a grade. And to answer your question yes, I did move in recently with my aunt so I’ve been in McKinley High for a month.”

 I was about to ask him how he was adjusting and as if he read my thoughts, he again quirked a dark eyebrow at me and tilted his head.  “Are you worried about me adjusting to my status as the new kid?  Fear not, sweetheart.  I’m pretty capable of taking care of myself.”

I’m sure you are, I think to myself noting the rippled muscular arms.  I also notice a few people looking curiously at us, wondering why a dethroned blonde high school cheerleader was talking to a junior.  

 “Are you going to try out for any clubs? Because a couple of my friends and I are in the school’s glee club are we’re looking for new members. We won 12th place last year in Nationals and we could use some new blood.”

 “As much as I would love to, I’m tone deaf.” He says in a deadpan voice, but I know he’s joking as I gaze into those almond eyes that crinkle in amusement and I watch in wonder as the brown circles have turned golden. “The only chance you’ll ever hear me sing is in the shower.  Not unless you want to join me, I could definitely do a private audition.” He grins and winks suggestively as I roll my eyes and find myself chuckling at his humorous attempt to flirt.

 “Nice try, Neil.  I’m a staunch believer in sex after marriage.”

 Neil clucks apologetically and shrugs his massive shoulders.  “It was worth a shot.  I can imagine a lot of guys whose hearts have been broken by the news.”

 My thoughts suddenly turn to Iain but I dismiss them quickly.

 “How about you try joining me and my friends in Bible study group instead?” I tilt my head and look at him earnestly, desperately trying to win him over.  He hesitates for a moment and my persistence finally pays off because he exhales and nods curtly.

 “My, you don’t ever give up do you?  Alright, I’ll join you.  I’ve been going through plenty of shit these days I could probably need some Divine guidance.  But, on one condition.“ he cuts me off before I even ask him more.

 “I take you out for dinner.”

 I found myself wondering if Iain was this persistent and as amorous when he was Neil’s age.  But then again, the only “date” I ever had with him was last night when he ordered pizza and we had our dinner in front of the television watching History documentaries. Iain is a closet Discovery Channel freak and I also happen to like documentaries.  I keep up with the latest shows by reading the synopsis on the internet for blending in purposely.

 “How about you meet me for coffee at the Beanery after Bible school?  Meetings are every Wednesdays at five.”

 “Fine.  So I’ll see you tomorrow. Then after that, it’s a date.” Neil gives off another one of those lazy smiles.

 “It’s just coffee, Neil.”  I warn him as he laughs and slams his locker door before heading off for class.

 I run hurriedly home excited with the news I can’t wait to break for Iain.  Though he offers to pick me off and drive me to school, I call him to assume him that I was hitching a ride with Tina.  I imagine a vision of him shrugging nonchalantly at the other end and tells me that dinner will be ready by the time I get home.  He waits until I hang up and I go home, giddy and excited.

 I rush into the house and look for him.  He’s nowhere to be seen.  I hear the lilting notes of the piano and saunter off to the living room where his back is turned.  He’s just had a bath, I notice that his hair is still damp and I assume that he’s probably had his afternoon run, which he usually does before he picks me up from school.  He’s wearing a black shirt that fits snugly on his lean muscular torso and faded distressed jeans that hangs low in his waist in a very sinful way.

  He’s completely lost in the music he’s playing.  He looks so comfortable, I smile wistfully as I lean against the wall of the entrance door watching him, enraptured by the soothing sound that his long skilled fingers make as he presses the keys.  My goes dry, suddenly wondering what those hands would feel running through my hair, my face, my lips.....and the rest of my...

 “Good day at school?” Iain asks mildly without turning his head, I am grateful that his voice breaks through my dreamy haze.  I make a silent prayer to the Lord for possessing such sinful thoughts.  Oh my, how can something as innocent as playing a musical instrument become such a turn on?

 “Uhm, yeah.  It was okay.” I mentally shake my wayward thoughts, glad that Iain stops playing and turns to face me with a soft smile on his face, as his eyes crinkle merrily.

 “Hi there,” he greets warmly, his voice soft and enticing.

 “Hi,” I murmur shyly.  “What was the title of the song you played earlier?  It’s very beautiful.”

 Iain tilts his head, mirroring my own.  “It’s called Liebesträume No 3.”

 “Dreams of Love by Franz Liszt.” I cite off recalling one of the famous classical songs I had once never paid any attention to at school until Iain.  Since then, I’ve been googling everything I could learn about classical music.  In some weird way, it was the closest thing I’ve tried to do in order to be closer to this highly unpredictable young man who never fails to give me heart palpitations with just one look.

 His grin is infectious.  “Ah, I see that my classical music influence is rubbing on you.” He scoots over, pats the seat beside me and motions me to sit.  I obey and place my hands beside me and tilt my head to look at him.

 “Do you know how to play?”

 I nod my head and laugh despite myself.  “My mom hired a teacher with hopes that Fran or I would learn, but alas, we’re a hopeless bunch.”  Iain chuckles and tinkers with a different tune, Polonaise in G minor by Chopin. Iain’s a huge fan of the Polish composer.  I’m also not going to admit I have the complete collection downloaded on my iPhone and that I listen to it just to calm my nerves after a heavy stressful day.

 “What was your teacher like?” Iain inquires mildy.

 I get a mental picture of Mrs. Largo.  “She was a good friend of my mom.  I remember her being cuddly and smelling like buttermilk pancakes.”

 Iain smothers a laugh as he switches to G flat major, “Cuddly?”

 I laugh and playfully swat his arm which he swerves to the side to avoid, giving me this warning look but his eyes are full of mirth. “She liked to eat a lot.  I just looked forward to having her around bringing us pastries.”

 “Ah, what child could ever resist pancakes?” Iain agreed with mock gravity, he smiles knowingly remembering the time we spent at IHOP.

 “What was your piano teacher like?”

 Iain falters in his expression despite still remarkably not losing concentration as he keeps his eyes directed at his playing.  “My grandfather taught me how to play when I was three.”  He plays something else and this time it’s Nocturne in C minor.  Chopin has a whole series of Polonaise, Nocturnes and Etudes that I have yet to remember.  It’s a miracle that Iain has mastered most if not all of them to memory.

 “You must have been very close.” I picture Iain as a cute little boy with big blue eyes, tousled messed up dark brown hair with a mischievous toothy smile as he eagerly plays a song on the piano with his legs dangling from the seat.   “We were.  He was more like a father figure to me. My dad rarely spent that much time with me because he was too busy with work.  He wasn’t like your teacher though, my grandfather was as cuddly as a Grisly bear.  He looks like a genetic cross between Yogi Bear and Santa too.  Hence, ‘cuddly’.” Ah, there’s that impish smile again.    

 “So can you play anything else?  I’m beginning to worry that all you know is Chopin.”

 Iain throws me a mock horrified look and my shoulders shake with mirth.  He looks pensive and stops what he’s doing suddenly, thinking of what to play as he scratches his chin with one hand, deep in thought while his other arm leans against the piano.  Then his face lightens up as I gaze into those cobalt blue eyes of his darken in mischief.

 He plays something that starts off slow, poignant...and oddly familiar.

 “Are we playing ‘Name that Tune’?” I smirk and raise my eyebrow.  Iain laughs. He looks so young, handsome and carefree as he nods his head and continues hitting the keys as the gentle, dreamlike, song goes on.

 “Is it Piano Concerto No.2 in C Minor by Rachmaninoff?”

 Iain pouts at me sexily.  “I thought we were playing ‘Name that Tune’, not Jeopardy.  But yes it is.”  He looks impressed, my Cheerio cheerleader self is doing cartwheels and splits.  

 “How did you know?”

 I shrug my shoulders.  “It’s from the movie Brief Encounter.  I must have seen that movie like a couple of times on cable.”

 “Who knew Quinn Fabray likes to watch movies in black and white?”

 “Just because I’m blonde and I used to be a cheerleader, it doesn’t mean I’m dumb, Iain.”

 He looks at me in a feigned sheepish expression and part of me wants to reach out and affectionately ruffle my hands against that thick, dark brown hair.  He’s so sitting so close to me, I realize this is the nearest proximity we’ve ever had.

 I focus instead on what he would have looked like if he were the three year old who was being taught by his grandfather. He must have been so adorable when he was younger, I could easily imagine him with big blue eyes, tousled hair sitting with his legs dangling on the piano as he tinkers to “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”.  I hold the sudden urge to wrap him around my arms and hug him tight.

  “You do surprise me, Quinn.  It seems like I’m not the only one who has layers.”

 What does he mean by that?

 He clears his throat.  “What I meant to say was that I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve too. Take for example; doesn’t it seem odd that this particular song sounds familiar?  Like as if it were from a pop song or ballad.”

 My eyes search his not quite comprehending.  He clears his throat again and as the song reaches into another round, he breaks into a mock girlish falsetto and sings ‘All By Myself’.

 He looks so ridiculous and lovable, I burst out laughing.

 “You’re cute when you laugh.” He says dryly with mock sham gravity but he’s grinning ear to ear.

 “You put Rachel Berry to shame.” I answer tartly, enjoying our banter, deeply thrilled that he’s thrown me a compliment.

 “Sounds like a rip-off doesn’t it?”  He’s talking about the classic song’s riff used in the power ballad.  

 “Your singing wasn’t that bad either.” I answer in a deadpan voice. He chuckles at my quip.  

 This day couldn’t get any more pleasant.  I didn’t feel like I wanted to break the news about Neil just yet.  He looks so relaxed and carefree.  Not now, my subconscious, Cheerio cheerleader, and inner queen bitch are down on their knees, pleading.  I’ll do it tomorrow, I promise myself.

 “Something bothering you?”

 Drat!  Damn Iain and his mindreading abilities.

 “Uhm, no.” I lie.  Iain throws me a meaningful look that says “tell me.”

 “You sure?”

 “It’s just...I was worried about that scholarship grant at Yale.   I mean, what if I don’t get it?” There. It was half the truth anyway; I do worry about that too.  

 Iain’s expression softens and he rewards me with a half-smile. “Leave that part for me to worry about, ok?  I’m sure you’ll get a grant from some rich benefactors with so much money to spend.”

 He straightens up.  He looks determined and I note that his blue eyes blaze with purpose and excitement.

 “Okay,” he says as I’m further dragged into those unfathomable blue orbs.  “Close your eyes.” He instructs as I give him a puzzled look.  

 “I’m giving you a musical appreciation course.  It’s all part of the Iain Hargreave tutorial package. Not only can I improve SAT scores and guarantee a scholarship into one of the country’s finest universities, but I also give my favorite students a good sense of taste in the arts.” He breaks in a mock serious voice.

He looks so lighthearted, cheerful, and young; I actually forget that he’s much older than me.  I dismiss this thought immediately and enjoy the moment.  I give in to his order and he breaks into a sound that is slow, poignant, and reminds me of an old black and white Hollywood Noir movie.

 “Listen to the sound and tell me what you’re thinking,” when I try to open one eye to look at him dubiously, I hear him clucking his tongue “Uh-uh, don’t open them yet, just tell me.” He implores as he plays a little louder as if the song were meant to go through that.  

 “I’m not going to laugh,” he adds quietly.  “Trust me.”

 Trust me, he says.  Do I even trust myself when I’m around him?

 “It’s like being stuck in an old Hollywood film noir crime drama. I’m thinking of a scene where there’s this lonely detective who’s down on his luck during the twenties who smokes way too much cigars in his office.” I listen in further as the somber sound breaks in again.  “Then there’s this woman that can be seen through the heavy blinds of the window door, she knocks softly before entering. When she does, she looks way too glamorous to be stuck in a dingy office and she’s wearing red leather high heels.”  I open my eyes and my mouth goes dry as Iain smiles almost as if in admirable wonder at what I had just said.

 “That was amazing,” he murmurs not taking his eyes off me.  I hardly noticed that he’s stopped playing as I in turn take in the unruly dark hair that falls casually on his forehead, his blue eyes turning into the color of stormy dark nimbus clouds as he takes in every angle of my face, memorizing it as if it were his last.  I can smell the heady mixture of bergamot, sandalwood, and Iain. My heart flutters in anticipation thinking of the unknown.

 “The title of the song is called High Heels.  It’s by a modern Japanese composer, Ryuichi Sakamoto.” Had I imagined it, but has his voice turned husky?  I drown myself staring into those hypnotic cobalt blue eyes and my heart races faster when I note that his pupils are dilated. Suddenly, I’m not interested in Sakamoto or anything for that matter.  What I want is to lean towards him and feel those hard lips against mine. I want to drown myself into sea with this Poseidon, into the vast depths mixed with bergamot, sandalwood, and unadulterated male. I can almost feel myself leaning towards him and he’s mirroring the same thing I’m doing.

 He reaches out and tucks a stray strand of blonde hair from my face.  His fingers linger, gently tracing the side of my face before he suddenly stiffens with a stricken expression like I’ve just bitten him.  He then quickly withdraws his arm as if touching me repulses him.

 “Quinn, I think this lesson is over.” He smiles sadly, I am pulled harshly back into reality, so hurt and embarrassed that I don’t notice the unmistakable regret in his voice.

 “You were spot on to guess the title.  I imagined the same thing too when I first listened to it.” He switches topic so quickly that I give myself a mental shake.  I don’t even notice that he stands up a little too abruptly as he eases his way off the piano giving us distance.

 Wait? What? You’re not going to kiss me? My subconscious wants to stand up grab his face and.... Wait?  Why do I want him to kiss me?

 *                *                *

Chapter 10

Iain

 What the fuck just happened?

 I was so close to kissing her, I almost blanch at the thought of it.  God damn it, Hargreave! My subconscious gives me a kick straight for the groin.  What the hell were you thinking?  You nearly molested a minor!  What the fuck is wrong with you? It started out all innocent.  She looked like she was enjoying listening to me play, so I decided to go along with it, despite the warning bells ringing in my head. It was all part of the music appreciation thing.  My grandfather did this exercise with me so I wouldn’t be bored playing something that didn’t have any meaning to me.  I even taught it to Becky once and so far, I’m glad at the progress she’s made with her piano lessons.  Why in God’s name do I even want to make Quinn care about the stuff I like?  I don’t even want to know why it seemed so important at the time to make her catch a glimpse of my own private bubble.  You really got it bad, I almost roll my eyes at the thought that out of all the women I could have taken my pick from, the one who’s gotten under my skin; the only woman I want is too young and inexperienced for her own good.

 I’ve done my research on her.  I know it sounds creepy, but it pays off in the corporate world. My family does countless of background checks on potential girlfriends for me and wives of my dad, so this wasn’t new. I already knew about her history with that Mohawk punk; that they’ve had a baby together and that Beth was adopted by some woman who was a teacher at McKinley named Shelby Corcoran who also happens to be Rachel Berry’s biological mother.  I wasn’t going to destroy her life like that other moron did.  

 Looking at how vulnerable she is now, with her mouth quivering and her blush reaching across her soft delicate cheeks and tears welling up her eyes I feel like a cross between a lecher and an idiot.  I run my hands through my hair caught between laughing in frustration and groaning in agony because I don’t know which is worse, wanting to kiss her or feeling guilty for not kissing her when she looks so forlorn from rejection.

 “You’re hungry.” I find myself frowning as I murmur that thought aloud.  “You need to eat.”

 It’s a lot easier keeping this distance, I turn my heel and saunter off the kitchen leaving her.  I ignore gut wrenching sensation when I catch her hastily wiping a lone tear from her face because I feel lower than a snake for doing this to her.

  She doesn’t need this in her life, I tell myself as I silently prepare the table while she sits at one end looking like a pale ghost of a vibrant girl who had just voiced out the same sentiments I felt about the song I played earlier.  In fact, she described it better than me, I remarked bitterly.  

 I talk aimlessly about how my day went, keeping in line of the conversation pulling her out of her sullen mood.  I omit that I made a rather expensive overseas call to my housekeeper on how to prepare tonight’s dinner.  I chuckle at the memory of Mrs. Taylor painstakingly patient efforts.  So far the salad I’ve prepared isn’t half as bad as I thought it would be and that the Moussakas mixed with minced lamb was just as good as how Mrs. Taylor made it.  I mentally pat myself at the back that I’ve managed to cook a rather decent dinner despite my limited, if non-existent domestic skills.  I’m going to have to buy a cookbook at this rate.

 Dear Lord, she’s already got me cooking.....literally.

 “Great Moussakas.” Quinn smiles slightly as she takes in another helping.

 “You’re welcome.” I give a half sided smile as I finish off my plate.

 “Not our usual take-out, but this will do.”

“What kind of food do you like?” “Just about anything.  I’ve got an adventurous gastronomical streak after watching Anthony Bourdain’s show.  My mom cooks the really boring healthy stuff,” she rolls her eyes with disgust. “It’s not that bad, but I could use a bit of variety once in a while.  I’ve got a fast metabolism anyway so getting fat is the least of my worries.”

 “I wouldn’t care if you were fat.”

 She flushes a little.  I wonder bleakly if I’m I ever going to tire of her looking this way?  

 Probably never.  

 She takes a long sip of water. “Really?  I used to be that.  You know, fat...”

 “I know,” I say softly.  “I saw the picture your father keeps in his office.”

 “Guess it must have been a surprise to you when you found out what I look like now, huh?” I throw her a bewildered look.  There are times when I don’t know what she’s thinking exactly, but I can somehow tune in to what she’s feeling.  

 This time I catch a glimpse of that sad, dowdy chubby girl hiding behind the gorgeous blonde. Though I know they may be as different as day and night, they’re cut from the same cloth. I find myself thinking that when Quinn lets her guard down, you could see that sad vulnerable dowdy girl.

 “Why do you do this to yourself, Quinn?  Please don’t.” I say quietly.  “You don’t have to be ashamed of your past; it’s what defines you as who you’ve become.  And you are the most extraordinary girl I’ve ever met.  Don’t ever forget that.”  She nods, as if the words penetrate through her.  I had to emphasize on the word girl than woman because hell, I didn’t want to scare her thinking that she is without doubt the most fucking amazing woman I’ve ever met and I’ve never been intimate with her to even to know that.

  And, as an afterthought even I slept with her, I would’ve felt the exact same way.  I remember the time when I wanted to seduce her in New York, and thinking about how I was going to treat her like a weekend fling didn’t suit me at all.  Hell, she deserves so much better than what I had to offer.  I get this feeling I would never let her go if I did.   What were my reasons on why I felt this way was baffling the crap out of me, but I wasn’t going to ponder on my wayward thoughts.  

  Now she looks about just in need of an ego patting.  My thoughts go out immediately on how lacking Russell and Fran’s parental skills were that they’ve never made their own daughter feel loved and secure.

 “When I saw you, it didn’t matter.  It was a shock initially, of course.  But it was never an issue.”

 She looks at me trying to decipher if I’m bullshitting her. I answered her in whole honesty. I recall the first time I saw her that day at the hotel lobby, I caught a glimpse of that sad dowdy, helpless girl who looked like she was begging for someone to love her and it gave my sinoatrial node a jolt like never before. Even though she looks like a knockout with that sandy blonde hair and rocking sexy body, I knew I had fallen in love with the lonely lost girl first.  

 I remember my Philosophy professor in Stanford once quoted some cheesy line from Blaise Pascal, saying that the heart has its reasons which reason does not know; to the extent that it wants what it wants even if it doesn’t make sense at all.  

 And from that moment I knew that I wanted Quinn. Imperfections and all fucking seven shades of her love.

 “That....was a very nice thing for you to say, Iain.” She thanks me.  

 What the fuck? I just let my heart, if not my dick, hang out loose and wear it on my sleeve and she thanks me like I’m her grandmother who just read her a bedtime story?!

 I am never going to understand women.

 “I didn’t say it to be nice,” I snap, regretting immediately when I see her involuntarily wince.  I don’t know why I even bother? I stand up and hastily take my dinner plate and walk to the kitchen to rinse it off.  This girl confuses the hell out of me.  I should be scared shitless, but I’m not.  In fact, I’m drawn to her more than ever.  It’ll be a few more days until Judy gets back and I don’t know whether to dread or look forward to that day.  I admit it, I’m attracted to her.  What unsettles me, however, is the fact that she feels the exact same way and I don’t know jack shit what to do about it.  

 A few hours later, after dinner, I sit in front of the big couch and watch listless at the news on CNN.  I check my Blackberry and answer a few messages from work.  I pull out the Macbook I brought with me and resume to answer any e-mails I’ve left and give further instructions.  I have to remember to sometime thank the people who work for me that they can pretty much cover my ass while Project Missing Little Brother is ongoing.  I haven’t been doing business deals for almost two weeks now and people are starting to wonder if I’m stuck in a mental asylum.  

 This explains why I had to take a personal leave from the Fabrays for three days to cover a business meeting with the Hong Kong businessmen whom I had just purchased a deal in the luxury shipping lines industry. Then I had to make a conference call to Japan and Dubai as we discussed the merger of the upcoming property that was going to be built in their respective countries.

 I know I’ll always be a talented pianist, but deep down inside I love the rush I get doing corporate stuff.  At my age, I finally understood that it wasn’t a game like I had done when I was much younger and made mergers and do stock investments like it were a Drug Wars application.

 In fact the business version of the game, Loan Shark was inspired by me.  I developed the software when I was 12.  With the help of my father’s advisers acting as my proxy, I had easily earned my first billion dollar net profit.  It all seems like yesterday when I had taken control of the company from my grandmother when I turned 21.  Almost four years of a whirlwind experience and here I find myself fuming on a couch about some fair-haired teenage girl who makes me want to forget everything and lose control.  

 My thoughts are rudely interrupted by the sound of my Blackberry.  I pick up and answer.

 “Hargreave.” “Iain!!!” A shrill youthful female voice shrieks at the other end as I wince and move my head away from my phone.  

 “How come you haven’t been answering my e-mails? Constance is worried sick about you and thinks you’re having a mental breakdown or something and I don’t know how much longer I can cover for you.”

 “What have you been telling her?” I inquire mildly.

 “Well, I told her that you’ve been dealing with some crazy South American druglords on your ship.”

 “Chelsea...” I growl menacingly.  If I could strangle my kid sister right here and now I probably would have done so.

 “I was kidding, you can chillax Big brother.  I said you visited me in boarding school for a PTA meeting and said exactly what you instructed.  I’m a terribly great actress.” “You should be, I’m paying for your acting lessons.” Not to mention I’ve doubled her shopping allowance for the next two months so she could keep the end of her bargain.

 “So have you met him?  Your brother?”

“He’s our brother, Chelsea.”

 “Yes he is.  But what I meant is that he’s your blood. I’m adopted so I don’t share your DNA.” Chelsea simpers a bit and says quietly.   “Do me a favor and please go easy on him, ok?  I know what you’re like when it comes to opening up on the emotional stuff. I doubt this drama is going to be a walk in the park for him.  He’s going to rebel and act out.”

 “Like you do?”

 “You know exactly what I mean, Iain!”

 “Sometimes I forget you’re just thirteen.”

“I’m wise beyond my years is all.”

 “Is there anything else?”

 “Where’s Anton?” My sister was referring to my personal bodyguard. I actually have three on hand for security reasons, but since I went incognito, I was on my own for a while. Since my return from New York, Anton has been following me from a safe distance.  

 “At his usual post.”

 “Aren’t you going to ever tell her?”

 “Tell who?”

“The girl you’ve been babysitting!  She must be really pretty because you’ve been hanging around their house for more than a week now.  Knowing you the way I do, you would have been in New York days ago, dragging your new found brother alongside in tow.”

 “It’s none of your business.” I ignore the tugging feeling that my sister is spot on.

 “I’m going to meet her one day.” Chelsea makes it sound like she’s made her ultimatum.  “I can’t wait to see the girl who’s gotten my billionaire brother in such a tizzy.”

 “Goodnight Chelsea.”  I cut her off before she starts protesting.

   I turn off my phone knowing that my sister is going to call me again and ply me more questions about Quinn.  I already feel terrible having to drag my sister into this mess and it doesn’t make me feel better that Chelsea has this idea that there’s something going on between me and Quinn.

 Speaking of the blonde girl, I haven’t heard anything from her in the past few hours.

 I look up at the clock and think that she’s in her bedroom probably reading the Bible, praying, or doing something utterly boring.  She’s been rather quiet the entire time that I find myself swearing a mouthful as I stand from my post and head over upstairs.

 I knock softly on the door before opening it and find her fast asleep on her bed.  She’s in a deep slumber that she doesn’t notice I’m inside her bedroom.  I lean against the door and sigh contently taking in the sight of her in a sheer lilac nightgown that’s short enough to slow her long legs and pale flawless skin.  

 I’m a guy who likes his women in expensive lingerie like Agent Provocateur or Victoria’s Secret (hell, I’ve even slept with the models from both catalogues) but seeing her even in a chastely modest nightgown makes my blood pound like no other.

 I turn my lustful thoughts instead to her dainty room painted in lilac and purple paisley designs fill the walls of her bedpost.  She’s fond of elephants as I note that there are also at least four different colored stuffed elephants in her room.  A yellow one with a sun design tattooed on its forehead sits on her desk while a white elephant with a floral design on its head with eyes that remind me of an alien’s sits on her window ledge accompanied with a pink elephant with an intricate Indian lace henna on its head that appears to be winking at me.

 Beside her is a fluffy cotton candy pink elephant stuff toy she fondly calls Gumbo. She once told me that she won him at the fair in a ball throwing game. The others, she explained were bought online because the proceeds go to an elephant sanctuary.  I frown at the inanimate object that sits on its haunches like it’s about to take a crap, envying the damn thing because it gets to sleep beside her every single night.

 I take the longest time looking at her sleeping form, watching her breathe in and out, noting the sheer thinness of her gown and that if I stare long enough, I might catch the outline of the mounds underneath her breasts. I immediately shift my gaze elsewhere and realize that she just left her night lamp on.  She must have been reading a book as it lies on the floor beside her open faced.  

 I approach the side of her bed and find out that it isn’t a book, but a diary of sorts.  I feel like a jerk invading her privacy and read some of what she wrote on her diary but as I flip through the pages, I realize that it isn’t diary but a journal.

 It’s a mixed collection of short stories, anecdotes made by from artists, poets and authors.  I’m amazed at the witty comments she makes along with pictures that she has taken no doubt from a Polaroid Lomo hybrid camera that she must have brought along with her.  Who knew she could write like this? She’s not only got perspective but she even makes the most mundane thing seem extraordinary. She’s absolutely brilliant!  I stifle a giggle as she recounts an antic Brittany does where there’s a photographic evidence of the unaware cheerleader as she tries to feed a piece of melted cheese to her obese cat.  

 I read through, noting that she too loves Chopin and has learned to adore Sakamoto.  I thumb along and come across a page that’s splotchy that there’s an sketch of a woman opening her arms to surrender to the embrace of a winged man. I realize that it’s taken from Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss, by Antonio Canova, a sculpture I once saw in the Lourve. It depicts a beautiful woman in the arms of the angel, Cupid; each lost in each other’s embrace with a thought that resonates exactly what I’m feeling.

 “The mind can calculate, but the spirit yearns, and the heart knows what the heart knows”

― Stephen King

 “If you think with your head, a heart is just an organ that pumps blood.

But if you think with your heart,

you know that a heart is the core of human existence.

It feels, emotes, and expresses.

With a heart you can perceive, understand, and judge.

Often, a heart is accorded more importance than the brain.

But then, why does my mind fight what my heart wants?”

-- Q

 I look quickly checking if she’s woken, lucky for me the girl sleeps like the dead, I muse as I silently close the journal and place it back. The last thing I would want her to think is that I had gone through her private thoughts.

 I come closer and grab the edge of the baby pink comforter pulling it over, tucking her to bed.  I realize with a dull ache that she’s been crying because I can hear her sniffles and that there’s a drying mark of tears that mar her porcelain skin.

 Without thinking I run the back of my hand against her face, as if to wipe them and I feel uneasiness settle knowing that I’m responsible for this episode.  She stirs a little but mews against my touch as she sighs contently with a ghost of smile on her face. I comfort myself knowing that at least in her sleep, she doesn’t fight me.  

 I run another glance at her sleeping form and mutter “I’m sorry for acting like a jerk, baby.” She stirs slightly and mumbles in her sleep saying something about not leaving her.  Strange feelings beat inside me as I wonder if this was the exact same way my father felt for my mother.  

 Instead of pondering such thoughts, instead of complying to her request while she’s defenseless in her sleep, I turn off the night lamp and leave her bedroom, closing the door behind me without looking back.

  *                *                *

Chapter 11

Quinn

 I wake up the next morning feeling oddly refreshed.  I knew I had been crying the night before due to Iain’s mercurial mood swings and my confused feelings for him.  Since that time where I thought he was about to kiss me, he’s been distant and has avoided me the entire evening.  That took a toll on me because I had been up the rest of the evening pouring my thoughts on my journal, trying desperately not to think about the handsome young man who was asleep downstairs.

 I had dreamt that he had entered my room and tucked me into bed. It’s that feeling one gets when they’re half awake and half asleep and I was almost certain that I heard him apologize for his behavior.  Perhaps I dreamt it the entire time, I wasn’t so sure.  But what I was certain of was that I wasn’t sure how to approach him giving the awkwardness last night.

 As I descend from the stairs.  I guess Iain spared me the trouble. I find a letter on the dinner table addressed to me written in bold, cursive, obviously masculine handwriting:

 Quinn,

 Your dad made me run some errands so I had to leave early.  I made you breakfast.  Anton will take you to school.  He’s waiting outside so please don’t take too long and waste his time.

 Iain.

 How thoughtful of him, I dismiss the sad feeling gnawing at my nerves thinking that I wasn’t going to see him.  With all the confusion, I haven’t told him about Neil. But then I figured I had to earn his brother’s trust first before telling him the news.  It could wait till later, I tell myself as I quickly devour the breakfast he’s prepared.  I have this feeling Iain isn’t keen on domestic skills, but at least he makes a decent egg and bacon omelet.  

 Once all is said and done, I take my school bag and go outside and find a man in aviators parked in front of the house......ohmigosh, is that a Bentley Mulsanne?  

   I find myself looking at a tall young man who looked to be in his late twenties, with a shock of black hair, hard Latin features...Mexican perhaps?  He‘s tough and fairly intimidating, but I relax the minute I notice his eyes, they had a kindness about them and looks to be smiling.

 “Good morning, Miss Fabray.  I’m Anton.” He nods curtly as he opens the back passenger door of the silver luxury car.

 “It’s Quinn, please.” I say.  No need to be formal, mister.  Who the hell is this guy?  Sometimes I don’t know Iain well enough to know what he’s been up to and who his friends are and what they’re like.

Perhaps this could be his way of letting me catch a glimpse of his life.  He isn’t very good expressing his feelings verbally, so I guess demonstration will have to do for now.  And at least, maybe I could get some information from this Anton guy.

 Anton is more of the silent type.  He drives in utter silence when I break his thoughts.

 “I didn’t know Iain had friends here in Lima.  How do you know each other?”

 “We were team mates in soccer during his time in Stanford.  I moved here with my wife and daughter a year ago.  I had only known that Iain was here this morning when he called in a favour to ask me to bring you to school because he knows I work as a valet at Courtyard Lima.” He mentions one of the few three star hotels in town.  In fact, we don’t even own anything five star here.  Though Anton says this to me straight-faced, I get the feeling it’s almost as if he were reciting a prepared speech. Instead of questioning him further, I nod as if this piece of information has appeased my curiosity.  Anton visibly relaxes.  

 I guess he doesn’t like to lie either.  

 There are things about Iain that don’t add up.  First of all, he’s too cultured and educated to be just some musically inclined guy from New York, plus he’s way too arrogant to take orders from anyone that it’s a wonder why he runs errands for my dad who can be overbearing to people he thinks are beneath him, and now this......being dropped off to school in a silver Bentley?  I don’t mean to sound snobbish because I can’t imagine anyone in this town would own a car like this, I mean, who in Lima Ohio drives a car that’s over two hundred grand?  Sugar Motta gets driven around in a Benz, but this car costs twice. Actually probably more than thrice, as I notice the additional features inside the car. There’s a portable jack where one can plug electronics, a small screen monitor and dvd player, an Apple dock, which I take full advantage of charging my phone.  As I open the mini refrigerator, Anton’s voice booms from his side telling me that I can help myself with whatever I wanted.  I smile gratefully and grab a Diet Coke and open a box of Truffettes de France Truffles.  I’m crazy about those things and it’s a delightful surprise that the fridge happens to have them.  I giggle amusingly as I pop a piece in my mouth as I continue to mull over the things about Iain that doesn’t make sense.  

 Like when I met Anton, he’s formal to the hilt that I get the feeling I’m his employer than just a friend of his friend.  Plus, he doesn’t look like the chauffer type either but there’s something about him that can make anyone feel safe when he’s around. Like a bodyguard.  And yeah, like I didn’t notice that he wore a gun holster that was barely concealed from his blazer when he assisted me into getting the car.  I don’t want to question everything just yet.  I want to live in this blissfully ignorant state that for now, Iain is mine and that he isn’t going back to New York soon because he hasn’t found Neil yet.

 Neil.  I almost blanch because I haven’t told Iain about me meeting his younger brother.

 “He’s a good man, Quinn.” Anton interrupts my thoughts as he looks at me briefly at the review mirror as he easily changes gears.  I’m a bit puzzled as to why he would say this so brazenly.  I barely know the guy, but he seems to know Iain and I don’t know what Iain’s been telling him about me.  Not that I care.  

 Once we reach the grounds of McKinley High, people look at disbelief at the sight of the silver four door Bentley.  I ease out before Anton rushes over to open the door for me.

 “Thank you for the ride and for the chocolates, Anton. They’re my favorite.  Please thank Iain for me too.” I tell him and he looks shocked.  He blushes for a moment and nods quickly before he heads off.  

 “Sweet ride, Fabray.” I hear one of the jocks from the hockey team give that praise. I resolutely ignore him and walk on.

 We start the God Squad meeting. I’m being joined by Mercedes, Sam, and this new guy Joe Hart who looks like a teen hippy with his dreadlocks, beat-up sandals, and slightly unkempt clothing that hangs loosely around his reed-thin frame.  He sort of came around as a surprise when he asked about the group and I thought it was because he was high from smoking too much weed.  It turns out that he was serious and I actually mistook his earthy smell as marijuana from the organic softener he uses on his clothes.  I was just as surprised to find out that Joe was formerly homeschooled before his parents decided to let him enjoy life as a regular teenager as a sophomore.  

 Our session is about to begin when I see Neil poke his head.

 “Am I late?” My spirits lift and I see that Neil is dressed in a blue plaid shirt, well worn soft jeans that are strategically ripped at one knee and a pair of beat up Nikes.  He looks every bit as handsome and masculine that I tell myself it’s because I’ve missed Iain this morning. Neil is just channeling my frustration with his older brother. I almost I could have imagined Iain if he was younger and much more reckless with bigger biceps.

 “No, please join us.”  I motion him to sit beside me and Mercedes has this “who is this piece of hunk?” look on her face.  Sam looks displeased.  We’re still good friends, by the way, and I could tell that he’s pining after Mercedes by the murderous glances he’s giving Neil.  Joe seems unaffected by the underlying tension and gives Iain’s brother a welcoming smile.

 “Everyone this is Neil.  I invited him to join us.”

 Everyone murmurs their hellos.  

 “Neil Sheridan, right?” Sam looks at the newcomer with an air of hostility.  He doesn’t carry his father’s surname, I reflect as I watch Neil saunter over to us.

 “Yeah, that’s right.” Neil replies, completely looking bored. I’m starting to think that this is a famous Hargreave “I don’t give an eff what you think” counter stance.  It works effectively as Mercedes gives Sam a warning look which he relents.

 “So tell us, brother Neil why you have come to join our group of praise?” Mercedes asks sweetly, as if giving out amends for Sam’s antagonistic behavior.

 Despite of himself, Neil chuckles.  “Well, I know it’s hard to believe that someone like me has faith. My family’s originally Catholic and raised me to believe in God.  And I do believe in God.  I’ve been going through some tough times.  Me and my aunt moved around especially in the last couple of months since my mother’s death.”

 Mercedes makes an automatic sign of the cross as an act of giving a silent condolence for Neil’s loss.  I pray that Iain’s mother didn’t suffer that badly.  I knew she died from cancer.

 “I’ve been a bit of a jerk too.  I didn’t make things easier for my Aunt Luna.  She’s already had a lot to deal with, raising me as her own. She has a son from a previous relationship, Julian.  He’s autistic, so yeah, it’s been hard for all of us.”

 “Don’t you have any other family?”

 I already knew that answer, but because Sam asked this, his eyes full of compassion for Neil’s plight.  I’ve been given so many graces by God that sometimes I find it so compelling that there are people far worse off than me.  After meeting Iain, I realized that there’s this irony that there are those who despite having everything, there are painful tragedies like this that even no amount of money in the world could afford to compensate.

 Neil’s eyes harden as he simply answers “No, I don’t.”  I feel a chill creep my spine.  Did his mother tell him about the divorce?  I wonder silently as I listen to him continue.

 He shakes his head and lets out a long sigh.  “I never knew my father.  My mom says that he was a good man and when I was old enough to ask more, she didn’t give me sufficient answers.  I don’t even have a picture.  I even doubted my mother was telling me the truth; she got knocked up by some complete stranger and was just shielding me from the truth.  Then, when I couldn’t ask her, I tried going to Aunt Luna and she wasn’t that much helpful either. I know it’s been really....frustrating not being able to know something about that other half of you.  I don’t look anything like my mother.  I sure don’t act like any of my other relatives and every time I try to find answers, I get nothing.  Add that up with high school drama and teenage angst that is one dodgy mix.” He gives off a lazy half smile and I’m almost tempted to hug him. He clears his throat and cites a passage from a Bible.  I’m amazed that he sites this out of memory.

 “There’s a reading off Matthew from the New Testament that says: ‘Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.’  

So I’ve been doing that, taking things a step at a time. I’ve found myself being much closer to the good Lord who has given me strength when my mom was dying with cancer. I’ve read the Bible to her whenever I got the chance to visit her at the hospital.”

 “Praise the word of the Lord for providing us comfort for the sick and our souls,” Joe says nodding with approval.

 We all respond with praises.

 “It’s like what was written in Psalms 37:5-6: Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him and He will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.” Sam responds, reading off a page from a dog-earned pocket Bible he carries with him all the time during our sessions.

 “Commitment to our Lord and God our Father Almighty takes a lot of blind faith, especially during these dark times.  But if we persevere we’ll find our way and our prayers will someday be answered.  So with this, I pray that you someday will find peace, Neil.” I smile and take his hand.

 He looks at me with this odd expression and says nothing.  

 I really have to find a way for the brothers to meet. I’ve been wondering that perhaps maybe all this time from the time that I had chanced upon Iain in New York and this time that I’ve met him and his brother could God have sent me to serve a purpose to reunite the brothers who have lost so much?  I used to think of my faith as sometime routine, my Celibacy Club was, let’s face it, an utter sham so I wouldn’t have Finn sleeping off with some slut when I didn’t put out.  But so much has changed after Beth.  I had become more considerate and less selfish.  And this time, I might have a chance to right the wrongdoings I’ve done in the past by reuniting Iain with his brother.

 ***

“Hey wait up!” Neil catches up with me in the hall after our God Squad session.  I turn around and watch him jog, noting how graceful he is despite his massive size. Apparently klutz is not one of the words found in the Hargreave DNA.

 “You were great in there, Neil.  I’m really glad you came.”

 “Yeah, it was good meeting everyone else.  Even that weird guy with the Rastafarian hair is alright,” Neil nods towards Joe’s direction as he passes us by.  We murmur our hellos and Neil rivets back his attention, his marble-like sunburst eyes glinting with purpose.

 “I believe you owe me a date, Miss Fabray.  I’ve come to collect in advance.” He says softly as I can feel him coming in closer.  He stops until we’re almost head to head.  Actually, it’s more like the top of my head is a little below his shoulders. My heart races nervously as I look again at him.  He gives a half-smile and suddenly, I start thinking of Iain and how he does the exact same thing. I realize that when his brother does this, I get weak in the knees, but with Neil it’s different.

 “Yes, I guess I do,” I swallow and nod.

 “Well, you don’t have to act so nervous about it,” Neil laughs, but he doesn’t realize is that I was thinking about his brother and doing mental comparisons between both of them.

 “I don’t do dates.”

 He looks stunned. “Why is that?”

 I shrug my shoulders.  “I guess it has something to do with the fact that I had a pretty rough time in the last two years.” “Somebody hurt you?” Neil asks quietly. We both take a companionable walk together.  School is over and because neither one of us brought a car, we decide to hike our way to the Lima Kahlua Bean Coffee Shop.  I didn’t think Neil could afford to eat at Breadsticks, so going for coffee seemed like a good neutral ground.  I didn’t want to hurt his feelings either because given from what I’ve known, he’s just as proud as his older brother.

 I shake my head and let out a long sigh.  I tell Neil the whole story of my teenage mommy drama. How I managed to fool my then ex-boyfriend into thinking he was the father.  Of the time when my own dad threw me out of the house and that I have lived with three other people unlike Beth’s father while exiled.  My parents’ divorce, my sister Fran driving me crazy after she found out her husband was bisexual, my transition from being the It Girl, captain of the Cheerios, to angry bewildered ex-girlfriend, then cutting my hair short and dying it pink, smoking cigarettes and getting a Ryan Seacrest tattoo.  I even told him about the time I tried to steal Beth back as Neil listens attentively and quietly.  I’ve been talking my head off and haven’t realized that we’ve already made it to our destination.  I’m not one who easily shares anything because I have trust issues, but being around Neil made me feel so comfortable that I barely felt the need to draw up any barriers.

 He finds us a seat near one of the nicer parts of the coffee shop. He takes off his jacket and places it on the couch.

 “You know what you want?” He motions his head across the counter.

 “I’ll have a Chai latte with skim milk, thanks.”

 “Alright, beautiful. Just sit your pretty little ass there and I’ll go get us our order,” Neil winks at me, his eyes crinkling in amusement as I give him a scolding glance.  

 I sit back and reflect again on each of the brothers and how different, yet similar they can be.  Neil is brash, but I get it that he can also be thoughtful, considerate, and a sensitive person.  I recall the way he listened to me talk about my life.  There was no pity in his eyes except when he looked furious as I relayed the news about me getting thrown out of the house.  He’s quiet, thoughtful and a lot mature for his age, I almost forget that I’m two years older than he is.  

 His brother, Iain, on the other hand is cool, quiet, refined but also possesses a fiery temperament like a stallion held in check.

 Both brothers are drop dead gorgeous, as I note with dismay on how the girls in line eyeball Neil with gusto as he gives his order to the barista, who is a petite blonde blushing furiously from the attention she’s getting from the tall, handsome broad-shouldered muscular god in front of her. With his bronze skin, black spiky hair and eyes which are a stunning myriad of gold and blue, Neil was in fact a gorgeous Greek god.

 Zeus comes back juggling my order on one arm as he easily carries his own mug and balances a slice of cake on the other arm.

 “Here, let me help you,” I insist as I take my mug as he grins in thanks.  He then settles his cake.  It’s a huge triple chocolate fudge cake.  He plops himself on the couch across me, I smile thoughtfully thinking of the Hargreave boys’ ability to still retain that boyish quality despite their rakish appeal.

 “I haven’t had one of these like for the longest time,” Neil starts digging in on his cake as he pops a slice into his mouth.  He then closes his eyes and lets out a hum of appreciation, enjoying the fudgy goodness as he playfully licks his spoon and shudders in pure bliss.

 “And why’s that?”  I laugh and shake my head when he offers to share his cake.

 “My Aunt Luna has this thing about organic food,” Neil explains as he takes a long sip of his decaffeinated coffee.  “She’s against anything that’s processed, has sugar or preservatives, and all the other good stuff children like.  She thinks it makes her son, Tom hyper so we don’t have it at home.  Plus she’s a vegetarian, so meat is also definitely off the menu.”

 “That must’ve been tough adjusting to a strict regime.”

 He shrugs nonchalantly. He tilts his head side to side as he chews on another piece, playing with his cake.  He looks like a little boy enjoying his birthday cake. “It wasn’t that bad, at least I never had to worry about getting fat because  I eat. A. LOT.” He laughs, emphasizing on his huge insatiable appetite.

 I give him an appreciative look over.  “And it’s working.”

He lifts part of his shirt halfway to show me his well defined six pack abs.        

 Holy crap!  I fervently remind myself that Neil is just 16 years old.  I can’t even recall a time in my life when I had a classmate who was as well formed as he is.  I wonder if he works out, I think of Neil inside a gym, but it’s unlikely that he spends his time there.  I think to myself that the muscles on his body are related to the fact that he likes to indulge in sports and those rippling pectorals are from all the hard work that’s effortlessly paid off.

 “You’re starting to drool, babe.” Neil throws his head back roaring in laughter as he quickly puts back his shirt.  “I usually don’t like being ogled at, but for a stunningly beautiful woman, I’ll make a huge exception.”

 Has Iain ever told you how beautiful you are? My subconscious sneers as she walks over to caress Neil’s forearm before settling herself beside him, sitting on the armchair as she wraps her arms around him possessively.

 “Have you ever considered modeling?”  I recover from my reverie as I take another long sip of my Chai latte.  It’s cold and was mixed a bit too sweet.  I don’t care, just as long as I don’t look at those tempting abs again.

 “I used to, actually.  We were always on the road before my mom died.  I was born here in Ohio, but my Mom and I moved to Covington Louisiana when I was three. We moved out before Hurricane Katrina and lived in New Mexico for a while before settling in LA, which was great because the weather’s just as nice.  I also did some modeling there to cover for some of the bills.”  He raises an eyebrow when he notices my reaction.  “Don’t feel so sorry for me, gorgeous. I can assure you that I was never molested by a creepy pedophile.  My Mom and Aunt Luna did some modeling back in their day, so they knew the right people in the business.  In fact, if my mom hadn’t been sick, I might have taken up that Ford contract and moved to New York. ”

 “Did your Aunt Luna always accompany you and your mom?”

 “Yeah, she and mom are twins so they were inseparable.  I guess Aunt Luna just couldn’t for any reason leave her alone to fend for me.  I guess she’s got some twin’s intuition because she insisted to always stay with us because she knew that there was something wrong with my mom.  Mom had this habit of never telling anyone what she was thinking or how she was feeling but somehow Aunt Luna knew.  She was there when my mom was diagnosed with Leukemia. That’s why we moved out of Covington because Aunt Luna got a job so we were able to afford the hospital bills and pay for Mom’s treatments.  Then when we were living in LA, she ended up having an affair with some D-list celebrity, got knocked up, and had Tom.”

 “It must have been really tough.”

 “It still is,” Neil runs a hand through his hair and sighs with frustration.  “I never had time to think about the superficial things people our age worry about, like what’s considered cool and popular. I had two women depending on me and a baby cousin who is sucked into his own private world.  I did things I knew were necessary like providing money to pay the bills even though my mom was fully against it.”  He then switches rapidly into another topic, which throws me off course but then again his brother also shares the same habit.  

 “Do you know that I haven’t eaten anything from a fast food restaurant in, like, almost forever?” he chuckles to himself divulging in a secret as he leans forward conspiratorially.  “There was this one time in school when this classmate of mine wanted to go on a diet, so he traded my lunch with a Big Mac meal.  I got sick after a few hours and had to go to the bathroom so many times that my teacher got pissed and sent me home.  Since then, I’ve had an aversion to McDonald’s like the plague.”  

 “Did you ever think that it could have been indigestion or maybe it was just a bad burger?”

 “It could have been,” Neil rubs his chin thoughtfully.  “But I’d rather not take the risk.  Aunt Luna’s methods have proven to be quite effective that my stomach is programmed like this for the rest of my life.  I guess once you’re used to not having something good, it doesn’t bother you because you don’t know that it’s good. Although there are times where one can have regrets.” He looks at me thoughtfully and I get this weird feeling he’s talking about something other than food.

 I look at the time and notice that two hours have already flown by.  Oh my, I’ve forgotten about Iain!  He must be so worried.  I was having such a good time with Neil and I forgot that my phone was still on silent mode; I never even felt it vibrate in my bag.  I check my iPhone and see that he’s left five messages and three missed calls and a voice mail. I quickly read them in order.

 Quinn, I’ll pick you up at school. Be there in 5 minutes

 I’m at the parking lot waiting. Where are you?

 Quinn, I’m worried, please reply ASAP.

 Your teacher said that you left an hour ago. WHERE ARE YOU?

 LUCY QUINN LIZ FABRAY, YOU BETTER PICK UP YOUR DAMN PHONE!!!!

 I pale considerably but I also have this urge to laugh hysterically because of his impudent behavior.  He’s really worried.  After reading his fifth message, I don’t even want to know what he’s left on my voice box. I send him a quick text saying that I’m with a friend and will be on my way home soon.  I don’t need him to pick me up everyday like I’m a five year old child. I care take care of myself!  But somehow the thought of Iain being angry because he’s worried doesn’t settle in quite well with me.  With a resigned sigh, I look at Neil who seems mildly amused by my facial reaction.

 “Boyfriend problems?”

 “How can you tell that it was a guy?” I sputter and feel embarrassed realizing what I asked came out wrong.  Neil starts biting his lip and his eyes are filled with mirth as he squelches the urge to laugh out loud.

 “Well, first of all, you look like you’re going to go hysterical so I gather it’s someone who’s really gotten under your skin.  Judging by the way you reacted from my stomach display earlier, I can easily deduce that it was a guy.  Though I really wouldn’t mind if you liked girls too.” He teased giving me a wink while grinning evilly like some seductive Cheshire Cat. “’I’m open to dating brunettes, by the way.”

 I glare at him.  Neil suddenly bursts out laughing. His eyes turn misty from all the merriment. I start getting this feeling that I’ve just elected myself as the hired clown for the Hargreave brothers. In all my time at McKinley High, none of my boyfriends were caught laughing in stitches when they were around me.  It’s an odd feeling in a good way that I find myself laughing along with Neil.

 “For your information, I’m not into that.  I was raised Christian and I believe in what the Bible says that God created man and woman because they were meant to fall in love with each other.”

 “Relax, babe I was kidding.  I just haven’t had the chance to have fun and flirt with someone as gorgeous as you that I was kind of enjoying myself a little too much.  So I apologize for being a jerk.” Neil tilts his head and bows it a little as to atone for his quip.

   I suddenly get this mental image of Iain entering my room, running the back of his hand against my cheek, apologizing for his rash behavior before tucking me into bed.

“I really should go,” I hastily return my phone and stand to pick up my bag.  Neil gently grabs my hand and stops to look at me earnestly.

 “Don’t,” he pleads softly.  “I meant what I said.  I really had fun being with you.  I haven’t felt this way for a long time.   Can’t you stay a little longer, please?”

 I hate to admit that I’m a sucker for the plight of troubled, tormented, handsome alpha males.  Including the one sitting across me.  I realize that Neil, having had moved from different states most of his life, apart from losing his mother to cancer and juggling high school while taking care of his aunt and cousin with special needs must suffer from loneliness. “I guess we could have dinner at Breadsticks if you’re up for it.  My treat too, please I insist.  We can use the coupon vouchers I got online. I’ve been dying to try their buffet special and I have an extra coupon because it was a buy-one-take-one offer.” I cut him off quickly when I note that he’s about to object.  Neil is a gentleman and would never allow a girl to pay for his meal, but I also know that he’s proud to admit that he couldn’t afford the food there either.

 “Plus, they serve free unlimited breadsticks.  I know there’s also an option to have them in organic whole wheat.” I added.

 “First I get an offer to be with a beautiful woman, then she tells me that I don’t need to pay for the meal and now I can eat unlimited organic whole wheat products.” Neil looked staggered, gratified and impressed. “What kind of a man would I be to turn down such an offer?” He joked dryly.

  *                *                *

Chapter 12

Iain

 Where the hell was that damn girl?  I pace anxiously around the parked Beetle at the parking lot of McKinley High.  I already left her three messages.  Quinn could have made five or six rounds around the entire school premises and I was sure to have seen her.  I scan across the many faces of America’s future and find none of them satisfactory. I try calling her, but it ends up going to voice mail.  I shrug and make my way inside and look for Mr. Schuster.  I find myself entering down across the hall inside a room where I find a pert, redhead with huge brown eyes framing her delicate face.  I remember her as the school guidance counselor during my short stint in McKinley. The Mousy Redhead.  What was her name again?

 “Emma,” I announce my presence as I knock on the door.  Emma Pillsbury raises her head and gapes at me with those big brown eyes that look ready to pop out of their sockets. I quell the urge to roll my eyes; here we go again.  I want to dispel that unbridled admiring look off her face because I have other things to worry that don’t concern her.

 “M-m-mister Hargreave!” the mouse squeaks as she quickly stands to greet me.  I raise my hand and shake my head, offering her to sit back again.  She obeys dutifully and resumes looking at me with those huge saucers.  “Can I help you with something?”  

 I note that the woman has a nervous tick and that this has nothing to do with me because I know that she suffers from an anxiety disorder and has obsessive compulsive tendencies.  I remember my first lunch at the cafeteria when I saw her routinely open her lunchbox.  It was methodic, strategic, and highly ritualistic.  I know this because I’ve seen the same behavior from this rich sheik I met in Dubai with a severe case of msyophobia.  That’s fear of germs in layman’s terms.

 “Have you seen Will Schuster?  I’ve been trying to contact Quinn on the phone and she’s not picking up. I assumed that maybe the New Directions have practice that I’m not aware of?”

 It was common knowledge everyone knew I was Quinn’s acting legal guardian, hence I didn’t have to explain why finding her was imperative. I never needed to explain my actions to anyone and I really could fucking care less what everyone else thought

 Emma shakes her head.  “Will isn’t in school.  He called in sick today so there’s another new teacher who’s taken over Spanish class.”

 Wonderful.  No glee club practice.  Since Quinn is no longer a cheerleader where the fuck could she be? The girl doesn’t have a lot of other extracurricular activities except that she has been organizing a Bible study group, so maybe I could find her there.

 “Do you know where she holds her Bible Study group with Mercedes and Sam?”  I think about her discussing whatever it is Christian kids talk about.  Maybe she’s enjoying her time praising God that she lost track of time.

 “Yes, it’s just across my room on the other side, but Quinn already left an hour ago.”

 I let out an expletive, ignoring Emma’s shocked reaction and quickly stride off the room.  I swear a mouthful and pull out the Blackberry and give the angel with blonde hair and sea foam green eyes another call.

 It goes back again to voicemail.  This time I leave one and I go on full mean, dictatorial tyrant mode.

 “Quinn, so help me God for saying this: But where the fuck are you?  I’m coming to get you.” I hang up then quickly press a number on speed dial.

 “Mister Hargreave?” A feminine voice inquires.

 “Nat, I need a tracing on a phone with the following number.” I give out Quinn’s digits brusquely along with her iPhone serial number, one of the perks of possessing an eidetic memory.  There’s a long pause for a moment and I can hear from the other line the IT specialist Natasha Chen typing madly against the keyboard.  In less than 30 seconds, she relays to me the exact coordinates.  “Stay on her and keep me informed.” I tell her curtly before ending the call.

 I quickly get on the car and bring out Quinn’s GPS and type on the coordinates given.  Turns out Quinn frequents this place a lot because it’s registered under the category: Food, Restaurant, and Dates.  Not that I care if the girl was out on a date, but she could at least have been fucking considerate to tell me.  

 Then I think about all the clowns in school who could have possibly asked her out.  The mere thought of makes me sick as I feel wrath pouring like acid on my flesh.  I take a deep breath before I turn on the car engine.  Then when I hear the beep from my phone, I quickly grab it and read the text message from her.  

 Sorry I was with a friend.  We went out for coffee and I’ll be home soon.

 I’ve been worried sick about you and all you can say is that you’re fucking sorry?!  I angrily toss the phone to the passenger seat cursing the girl and myself having cared so much.

 Already the task has gotten more complicated.  

 Focus, Hargreave.  Don’t let her get the best out of you.  

 Maybe she really was having a good time with her friends. I try to think of Quinn and who she likes to hang out with while I’m driving and following the coordinates from the GPS.  Maybe she went shopping with Mercedes after a God Squad meeting then they ran into Kurt and Blaine and lost track of time.  

 The phone rings again.  I reach for the passenger seat and pick it up.

“Hargreave,” I bark imperiously.

 “Mister Hargreave, it’s Natasha Chen.  The subject hasn’t moved and is still presently at the same location.  You’re fast approaching at a 5 miles radius.  Will that be all, sir?”

 “Yes. Thank you.” I dismiss her and return my phone back to the pocket of my blazer.

 That’s right, I console myself, focusing on how to get there than worrying about my exasperating little charge.  

 She’s just having fun.  Being a kid, because that’s who she is, my subconscious tells me though I refuse to listen as I pull up in a small bungalow type restaurant.  

 The place reminds me of a generic Olive Garden with its big wide windows and walls constructed by stone, obviously made of an average type concrete mixed with ablaster to make it look like stone with vines creeping at the sides on the walls painted in mute yellow and green.  I’m not a food critic nor do I care about the exterior of the restaurant, it’s just an inherent observation that is a deep seated force of habit thing I do.  Profiling things, people, and business ventures is something I commonly do when assessing something that I know is valuable and would produce profit.  

 But these past few days, I’ve been behaving irrationally like a mad jealous boyfriend all because I’ve been distracted by a beautiful, blonde teen angel with green eyes whom I should know better that she has no present value in engaging into a relationship with me because she is young, inexperienced and is now acting like a spoiled inconsiderate child in need of a good spanking.  

 I walk inside, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the restaurant.  It’s noisy, crowded, and there’s a large crowd lining across the buffet table.  I quickly scan around the group and when I don’t find her, I turn my attention to the seated couple at the far right of the restaurant.  Immediately, my heart stops beating for a second as I catch a glimpse of golden honey colored hair framing a beautiful face that’s haunted me during my days, and most especially my nights.  She’s talking animatedly to a tall young man with dark hair who reminds me of that Frankenstein ex-boyfriend of hers.  Frankenteen, I used to cleverly nickname Finn but right now I really don’t give a damn about him.

  I approach slowly, determinedly, and as I grow closer, I see the shocked reaction on her lovely face as she turns ashen.  Her eyes have gone wide and she looks about she’s just ready to cry.  She mouths something like “oh my God” which I find ironic because I know it’s a sin for Christians to say the Lord’s name in vain.

 “Hello Quinn,” I say with dead calm.  I usually am good with hiding my thoughts and feelings and this time it’ll serve me good to do so because all I really want to do is grab her by the hair and take a big club and yell ‘ooga booga boo’ and hit her with it before dragging her back to my cave.

 If I wasn’t so angry or resentful, I would have marveled at the capability that this girl has over me.  I’ve barely been with her for less than two weeks and already I’ve turned into a paranoid, raving jealous Neanderthal.  

 “Iain,” she says softly.  I can tell that she’s nervous but she looks into my eyes as if pleading me to forgive her.  

 I barely pay attention to the boy opposite her who looks at both of us in stunned silence.  His eyes are speculative as he observes the display of fireworks between me and Quinn.

“You didn’t answer my calls so I tracked you down,” I look at her with disdain as I motion her to scoot over.  I take my seat beside her and snake my arm around the seat we’re occupying, staking a claim, but my eyes never leave her face as I watch the emotions play on her delicate features.

 “Y-y-you were stalking me?”

 “You didn’t leave me any choice. I was worried and you weren’t picking up your phone or answering my messages,” I tell her accusingly, trying desperately to keep my emotions in check.

 “Iain, this isn’t a good time.” She falters as I continue to stare her down.

 The boy across the table clears his throat.  I turn around to glare at Frankenteen.

 When I do, I see a young man with similar features like mine. He looks just as shocked but covers it immediately with a mask of indifference which I raise an eyebrow in admiration.  Just like Dad, I think. I quickly hide my astonishment as I stare into those familiar blue and golden multicolored striking eyes.  They’re gray blue around the iris, like mine but with an orange yellow, almost golden concentric ring surrounding mid-peripheral zone of his eyes, giving it a sunburst appearance.  It’s a rare form of central heterochromia, and it only runs in one particular line in my family.

Neil Jacob Hargreave looks calm as a dead winter’s night as he regards me in high amusement.  The boy is a perfect carbon copy of our father, I note even by the derisive way he’s looking at me. It strikes me odd that I should still be surprised.  I already know what Neil looks like from his records given by the hired private investigator and I know that he’s a spitting image of my dad, but seeing him in the flesh with his cat-like eyes glinting with mischief and his crooked smile unnerves me to the core.

  “I’ve always imagined our meeting would have been profound or at least poignant to some degree,” Neil’s gritty voice is tinged with part amusement and sarcasm. “But never in my life had I imagined it would involve having to fight for the attention of a beautiful blonde. I’ve always thought redheads and brunettes were more of your type.”

 I ignore the obnoxious jibe coming from the rough young arrogant pup.  I turn my attention instead at Quinn who is staring at both of us wordlessly.

 “How do you two know each other?”

 Quinn for the first time is nonplussed.  “I—we—“

 Neil, though he may be a dickhead, takes mercy on her.  “We met at Bible Study.” He explains smoothly.

 Now this is shocking news.  I turn my head and look again incredulously at my brother.  I still haven’t removed my arm from Quinn’s side. She’s moved closer and is now leaning against me as if hoping to gain some inner strength.  My dour mood improves slightly but I don’t feel like analyzing why I feel the way I do.  I don’t even want to consider why I’m holding her close and unconsciously rubbing her shoulder back and forth with my thumb like I’m comforting her.  

 Hell, I’m the one who’s supposed to be nervous.  

 Neil rolls his eyes.  “Please try not to act so surprised. I maybe poor, proud and a whole bunch of other things, big brother, but our mother didn’t raise me to be an atheist.”

 “I’ll let you catch up,” Quinn murmured as she uselessly pushes and tries to pry herself out of my arm.

 “Yeah, big brother.  Stop holding on to that pretty girl like you’ll never let her go.” Neil chides, but I can see that he enjoys rattling the hell out of me.  

 I won’t allow him to get the best of me, because I know that he’s been hurt from the after effects of our parents’ divorce, lonely, and he’s taking it out on me because I’m the only target of Hargreave heritage that’s in proximity.  His method to shock and annoy all screams teenage angst.

I reluctantly let my arm go and stand so Quinn can move out of her chair.  I give her the keys and tell her to stay in the car.

 “We’ll talk later,” I promise giving her a stern look that I was serious and meant it.  She nods mutely and scurries away.

 I watch with dismay as Quinn makes a beeline for the bathroom. Then I turn my attention to my kid brother who’s watching the scene with amusement.

 At this point, I’ve given up having to sugarcoat anything. He’s old enough to understand how life works and how to make decisions for himself so giving any nonsense voluntary conversation was moot at this point.    It was also worthless to let an awkward silence pass by between two people who want to move forward but aren’t quite sure how to proceed.  

 Besides, I couldn’t keep Quinn waiting too long for me.

 So instead, I try honesty for a change and ask him the first thing I think of.

 “How did you know?”

 Neil shrugs his massive shoulders nonchalantly.  “Five years ago, I did a school project about central heterochromia.  Turns out that I have a rare case and it only runs in a certain genetic line.  You’re not the only computer hacking genius in the family, so I did my research.  I went through several records and, boom.  I found Dad who has eyes exactly like mine.  Since I look a lot like him, it was easy to put two and two together.”

 “Then why didn’t you come forward?”

 “Yeah, right.” He scoffs.  “What was I going to do?  Walk into one of the Hargreave mansions and make a huge spectacle of myself?  Sell my story to the tabloids?  Who was going to believe me?”

 “I would have.”

 “Well it’s too late for that now.  Besides, I knew it would’ve broken Mom’s heart.”

 I agreed.  “Mom would have never wanted you to resort to anything so low.” “I’m surprised that you aren’t angry with her for what you thought she did to Dad.”

 “Neil, I’m not one to judge so quickly. I got my facts straight and have this theory of what really happened after the divorce.”

 I recount to him the details of the proceedings. How our mother had serenely signed the papers and quietly left.  How our father came back to get her, only to be filed a restraining order by the same woman he wronged.

 “He was devastated,” I say quietly, my mouth forms a grim line.  I shake my head at the memory of how my father grieved for her. “For a long time he was despondent and wouldn’t talk to anyone.  I tried to cheer him up, but it was hopeless.  He was sad and buried himself to work.  Whenever he remarried, he’d find something wrong in the relationship and cut off ties.”

 “He could’ve written a damn letter.”

 “He tried, Neil,” I interjected.  “It was the only form of communication he had left after the restraining order.  Despite even that, it all came back as ‘return to sender’.  He even knew about the times when you moved from Ohio to settle in Louisiana.  When he died in that plane crash, he even knew about New Mexico.”  

 “Did he ever ask…..about me?” Neil asked dazedly, his expression guarded as he turns his attention to his water glass.

 I let out a long sigh and shook my head.  “I can imagine he knew about you.” I admitted.  “Which explains why he went to Ohio because he wanted to, so to speak, bury the hatchet.”

 “When was this?”

 “Around a year after the divorce, before the restraining order.”  I watch Neil as a myriad of emotions cross his face.   I could tell that the emotional chain reaction was now beginning to settle in.  He tries to keep an impassive mask, but I know he’s struggling.  He’s as tough, but I’m sure as hell that he wasn’t going to cry either.  It’s part of the Stuart trait, because being Scottish we’re too proud, arrogant and tough.  I then try to soothe the young man by getting more to the point.

 “Doesn’t it strike you odd that our own mother would file a restraining order against our father?”

 “She was angry, that’s understandable.”

 I shake my head.  “Think about it, Neil.  Think very hard.  I may have been a child when this happened, but I remember her.  She was kind and never liked to hurt anyone’s feelings. People who remember her loved her, others envied her because not only was she beautiful, but she had a heart of gold.  I also know she would have done anything, given up everything to give you the best and make you happy.  She loved our father very much which was why she never remarried either.”

 I look directly at Neil and he ponders for a moment, considering the ramifications of everything I’ve told him.

 “I know it must be hard for you.  I know that Mom must have kept you in the dark and how much of a struggle it must have been for you to want to know the truth and to be the only one to take care of her before she passed on.” Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to say the words that our mother was dead.    

  “I’m telling you now that he did care and more importantly, he cared about you.  There’s more that you need to hear, which was why I came to Ohio to find you. Before he died, he hired a lawyer to create an addendum to his will.  Kind of an unforeseeable reason that he drew it up a few weeks before his death. You were included in it.  All his assets, he bequeathed it to you.  He kept it under tight wraps that you weren’t going to be contacted until you reached your 18th birthday.  Nobody in our family knows about the will.  I only found out last month after I began my search to find you when I saw Aunt Luna’s picture on the news.”

 “He left everything to me?” Neil asked incredulously.

 “He did,” I answered.  “Neil, I don’t need his money.  I have more than enough to last me ten reincarnations as a billionaire.”

 “I heard about the profits you made out of Grandfather’s inheritance.”

 I smile impishly.  “It drove his financial officers crazy.  But Pop trusted me to use it freely, under close supervision of a trusted adviser and miraculously, I thrived.” I nod as if stating the obvious. “Someday, you’re going to do the same thing too.  Make something out of yourself.  That was our father’s gift to you.”

 Neil nods slowly, digesting the new information.  His eyebrows furrow in deep thought, and I get this image of my father with the same expression on his face as his sits on his office table concentrating on one of his files.

 “Aunt Luna,” Neil says after a long pause then shakes his head bitterly.  “She filed the restraining order.”

 That was the answer I hoped to hear.  I nod my head.  

 “Now it all makes sense,” he says softly.  I listen as he recounts to me the story when they moved to Ohio.  How Aunt Luna had followed them around until my mother’s death.  That she had been in a relationship with a married district attorney in Ohio and the possibility that she had acted with that lawyer to file the restraining order.

 “Then when Mom was sick, she took care of her.” Neil laughs bitterly.  “She felt fucking guilty after what she had done to us and took it on herself.” He looked thoughtful for a while.  “She must have also returned the letters as well.  She’s a damn good actress too and because she looks so much like her, anyone could have been fooled thinking it was Mom who filed the restraining order.”

 “It would be so convenient to hate her,” I remark dryly as I squelch the bile that rose to my throat when I notice Neil go from ashen to furious. “But people are complicated.  There’s good and bad. Then there are those in between—like Aunt Luna. Flawed, imperfect people who’ve made terrible mistakes.”

Neil exhales and collects himself.  “What are we going to do?”

 “Well, we’re just going have to plan things accordingly.  I need to make sure that you’re ready to move out and live with us.”

 “I’m more than ready,” Neil says determinedly.  “I’ve been waiting for this all my life.”

 “There’s one more thing you need to know: Derek and Lisa Hargreave were in love despite their differences.  She was a beautiful small town girl and he was a wealthy sophisticated man.  I wouldn’t be surprised if that made Aunt Luna jealous because we both know her history with the men in her life.  When the scandal broke, she thought she was doing the ‘right thing’ by filing a restraining order, pretending to be Mom.  I could imagine she thought she could have something to gain thinking if she could ‘seduce’ dad and have him for herself.  Or maybe she truly wanted to protect her twin from Dad because he hurt her then when she realized it was a stupid error on her judgment, she tried to make amends by sticking around, hoping that she could contact our father.  I don’t know Aunt Luna that well, but like again, what I said.  Not everything’s written in black and white and it’s all in different shades of fucked up.”

 “That would make sense,” Neil agreed.  “She did try to get in touch with him, but was never able to. I remember seeing some long distance calls made to New York and London in one of our phonebills before Dad’s death.”

 “And then what happened?” “Nothing.  I guess he saw through her and told her off.  Because, I remember plying her questions about the phone calls and who she was calling.  She told me to forget it and called him a bastard.”

 “I wouldn’t be surprised, Dad never liked her.  I think he tolerated Luna because she was Mom’s sister.”

 “Isn’t it odd that they’re twins and complete personalities apart?”

 “Yeah, our mother was a saint and Luna is the spawn of Satan.”

 That got a laugh from Neil.   I find myself laughing at the hilarity of it all.  Despite the pain and the grief our family endured, I realized that I didn’t have to play a stranger with Neil and form a bond, because it was already there.

 “Look, we’ll discuss more tomorrow.  I already sent word to Anton and he’ll bring you home.” “You brought along your bodyguard?”

 “It’s mandatory,” I tell him.  “It’s for safety precautions and all other accouterments that come along with being a Stuart Rolfe Hargreave.  You’ll get used to it.”

 “Didn’t you live in England for a while before Harvard? It’s amazing that you never acquired the accent.”

 “I never forgot I was American,” I answer honestly.

 “One more thing,” Neil interrupts as I am about to stand up.

 I raise my eyebrow.

 “About Quinn…” “Yes?” I ask testily.

 Neil bursts out laughing.  “Now, I may not have known you that long Big brother, but you’re not scaring me one bit.  Your intimidation tactics might’ve worked well with those sissy high powered suits, but you don’t fool me.  I’m so glad that we never grew up together because now that I’m bigger than you, you won’t be able to kick my ass with what I have to say.”

 “Doesn’t mean I can’t try,” I growl as I resume back on my seat across my impertinent younger sibling.  “But please, do go on.”

 “I don’t like it one bit.  She has no clue who you really are, does she?”

 “That’s none of your business.”

 “Oh, I think it should be,” Neil disagrees.  “Because I happen to like her.”

 “Well, you can’t have her.” I blurt out suddenly as my eyes draw into dangerous slits.  Fury shoots up my nervous system before I have a chance to think that I might be overreacting.

 “Now you’re acting possessive.  You like her; she likes you, what’s holding you back?”

 “She’s a child, Neil.”

 “She was just as old as mom when she married Dad.” He points out dryly.  “I remember him being around your age too.” He then scratches his chin thoughtfully. “You know, Quinn does kind of remind me of her.  Sweet, blonde, tough on the outside, all sugary on the inside--“

 “That’s enough,” I command harshly.

 “It’s imperative that you’re going have to tell her sometime, big brother. I’m surprised that she hasn’t gone around asking questions about the whole thing, but maybe she doesn’t want to know either.” Neil scratches his head thoughtfully as if pondering on the possibility.  

 He quickly clears his throat and looks me in the eye, his voice dead serious.  

 “If ever you do come around confessing, it isn’t going to matter to her.  She’s crazy about you, obviously. She won’t care about your annual net worth, she’ll probably even overlook the fact that you used to be a reckless playboy billionaire tycoon or maybe she’ll even give you hell about that which will probably be so much fun to witness.  I hate to admit this but it’s a real trip watching the two of you.  I take it you’ve noticed the fireworks whenever you two come in close contact?  She’s jumpy when you’re around.  She never acts like that, even around me.  She keeps this mask on school like she’s the beautiful perfect untouchable teen queen, but I know it’s all a ruse because deep down inside, she is more than beautiful and perfect: she’s also sweet, sensitive, and damn funny when she wants to be.”  

 Neil pauses to catch his breath and continues.  

 “I’m sure as hell you’ve noticed too, given your record that you’ve dated the world’s hottest women on the planet.  You could have had your pick of women and here you are, acting like you can’t get enough because you can’t keep your eyes and hands off her. Hell, you even dress alike which is by far the creepiest shit I’ve ever seen.” He nods at the red and black checkered shirt I’m wearing underneath my blazer.  Quinn was wearing a similar patterned jacket over her cream dress. It was purely out of coincidence because I had left the house early for a meeting in Arizona.  I had taken a plane flight and had just come back in time to pick up Quinn.

 I didn’t want to admit to my brother that I do notice the fireworks.  The same electric feeling whenever she’s near or that I can be so in tune with her thoughts even though she’s never vocalized them out loud.  I’ve heard from various people that she’s difficult to read, but I find her reactions quite obvious and equally refreshing.  Maybe it’s because I’ve lived in a more sophisticated, complex world where I’ve played the guessing game so many times, in many various forms that I’ve grown tired and despondent for the past few years.  From the time I’ve met Quinn in a lobby and see her vulnerabilities; it draws me to her like never before.  I lost her and find her again in less than a year, live with her for less than 4 days, have her play a vital role in building a broken relation that lasted for almost 17 years, and now this.  For some inexplicable reason, I’ve come to this conclusion that Quinn was perhaps the best thing that’s ever happened to me for I’ve finally found a purpose in my life.  That was to make someone’s life better.  

 Starting with my brother.

 Who knows how many more lives I could help out?  I’m on a roll at this point.

 “Well?” Neil raises an eyebrow.

 “Well, what?”

 “Think about what I said.  Quinn is a smart, beautiful, fine young woman who’s obviously in love with you. I know we’ve all got some shit baggage from our past but someday, you’re going have to figure out what’s stopping you from loving someone like that because she won’t be the kind that’ll hang around if you don’t love her back.”

 “And your point now is?” because I just had a feeling that my brother was going to suggest something more.

 “So is she fair game? Because if you don’t want her, I do.”

 “Get over it.” I command arrogantly and my voice goes hard. I glare at my brother and Neil suddenly bursts out laughing, shaking his head in hilarity as pure gales of mirth eliminate the tense mood that enveloped us earlier.  I surprisingly find some amusement in this and give him a smirk.

 “Just so you know,” he says when he finally calms down. “I was the first one she asked out on a date.”

 “I’m assuming this is one of those coupons vouchers she bought online?  They’re useless.  It was a scam.”

 Neil’s eyes widen in astonishment.  “Do you keep records of what she browses online?”

 “Just the payments she’s made.  The company has already given her a refund on her debit card. Please don’t tell her about it, because she’ll be mortified and go all melodramatic.”

 “You’re acting like a stalker, Iain.”  It’s the first time Neil addresses me with the nickname I’ve only reserved for my family to call me.  To the rest of the world, I was Max Hargreave, CEO and multibillionaire.

 “I haven’t been myself for these past few days either.” I admit.

 “Heaven help me if I ever end up losing my balls over a beautiful woman.” Neil rolls his eyes.  “You should have seen yourself earlier when you first saw her with me.” Neil snickers, savoring the memory as if divulging on a private joke where he’s the only person who knows the punch line.  “You looked right about ready to kick my head in the trash bin.  You might have even succeeded if I was somebody else.”

 I don’t answer him.  I’m through with this useless discussion.  Neil raises an eyebrow and takes in a deep breath.  I don’t even understand my own reaction to my brother’s admission that he wanted Quinn.  I was furious, hell, I’m still pissed.  So why do I care if my brother likes her just as much?  He’s about the same age as she is, albeit a few years younger.  Quinn always has this habit for dating naïve idiots anyway and given Neil’s age and inexperience, he’d be the perfect candidate. So why does this even matter to me? Because the mere thought of anyone---but myself---touching her sets my blood boiling.

 I notice my brother looking at the bill the waiter leaves on the table.  His brows furrow as he settles it on the table and before he reaches in his pocket for his wallet, I interrupt his thoughts.

 “Relax, little brother, I got this covered.” I fish down the pocket of my blazer and pull out two hundred dollar bills and place it on the tab like spare change.

 “But I didn’t get to pay—“ Neil stammered.

 “You can keep the Bentley to compensate for your ‘loss’.”

 Neil’s eyes suddenly glow in merriment when he turns around and sees the silver Mulsanne parked.  “Really? That’s mine,” he blows out a long whistle.  “I can definitely get used to that.”

 “That’s not all you’re going to get used to.”

 “Is Genevieve really that scary in person as they say?”

 “She makes Genghis Khan look like a Golden Retriever,” I answer dryly.

 “I heard there’s a sister too.  Chelsea, right?”

 “You’ll meet them soon.” I promised.

 “Oh, and another thing.”

 “Yeah?”

“Just remember that I was the bigger man to walk away from Quinn.”

 “I should hate you.”

 “But you don’t,” Neil points out merrily.  “You can’t help yourself.”

  I let a long sigh of exasperation as I run my hand through my hair.  I was going to have to get used to having a younger brother. I wonder if there’s a manual out there in dealing with one.  

   *                *                *

Chapter 13

Quinn

 “Well,” Iain said once we return to my house as we walk our way up the path to the front door.  “That was interesting.”

 We’ve driven inside the car in utter silence.  I can’t believe he’s calm the entire time.  I knew he was furious when he discovered me and Neil together, but now he acts like as if nothing’s happened.  While waiting for him as I was told to do, I sat silently at the car, worrying about the confrontation and how he was going to manage with Neil around. I remember restraining myself from getting out of the car just to check how they were doing. Doesn’t anything ever faze him, I wonder sullenly.  The man reunited with someone from his past and he’s acting like as if he just visited an old friend.  Surely, somewhere inside him he has got to feel something….or remotely anything.  

 Suddenly, inexplicable rage pours out of me. I was never the confrontational person, or violent but something red-hot just snapped inside me and I needed a good venting.  

 Iain turns and was about to ask me something, but he never gets anything out as I launch myself at him, catching him with a headbutt to the stomach and he gives out a grunt.  If he had anticipated this move, he would have definitely easily fought me off, but my inner queen bitch nods with satisfaction as I catch him by surprise, knocking him off balance.  He trips and I follow, shoving at him until we’re both at the ground.

 “What the hell are you doing?” He asks as he winces, recovering from the pain of the impact as I’m sprawled on top of his lean, muscular body.

 I barely take notice because I’m angry.  “How could you be so cold, callous and uncaring?” I shriek.

 “What are you talking about?”

 “You just met your brother, whom you never knew existed until a few months ago.  The only emotion you’ve shown was anger because you were worried where I have been, and here you are acting like you could care less that you’ve met Neil?  Do you possess any feelings at all?  Or is your heart made out of stone?”

 I begin whacking him on the chest with my fist.

 That felt good.

I do it again.

 “Ow!  Will you quit doing that,” Iain glares at me when he grabs my arm.  I’m too pissed to notice that his grip is surprisingly gentle albeit firm.

 I try doing it with my other free arm.  “He was alone!” Whack.  “He took care of your mother.” Whack.  “Until the day she died, he was there with her.” Whack.  Whack. “Don’t you miss her at all?” Whack. Whack. Whack. “How could you not feel anything after all that?”  Whack. Whack. Whack.

 He tries to catch the other swinging arm, but I’m too quick for him.

 “Oh, so this is about Neil?” Iain asks flatly. His voice has taken a hard edge at the mention of his brother’s name.  If I wasn’t so frustrated with him, I would have realized that Iain sounded jealous and was resentful that I was considering his brother’s feelings than his.

 “No, you idiot!” I yell as I whack him again at the chest. “This has nothing to do with your brother.”

 “Then would you mind telling me why you’re so angry?  Stop hitting me, it’s not going to accomplish anything.”

 He finally succeeds and grabs the other arm. I find myself flipped on my back with Iain on top of me.  In this bizarre turn of events, Iain grins unexpectantly.  It’s the look on his clean-shaven face that stops me momentarily.  The expression transforms him.  Before he had been handsome in a stern, intimidating way, but now he looks boyish and disheveled as a lock of black-brown hair now falls carelessly on his forehead.  I bleakly think of how many women would voluntarily drop their panties over that grin.

 I start to feel a bubble of panic rise, as I try to knock him off, but it’s completely futile as he has pulled my arms over my head, imprisoning my wrists with one hand, while the other supporting his weight.  I’m acutely aware of this uncompromising position now that we’re face-to-face and I swallow hard upon the realization of our almost intimate posture.  Even though I’m acutely aware that he’s heavy and half-squeezing the life out of me with his weight, my heart starts pounding crazily as I take in the smell of him mixed with that heady combination from his expensive after shave, the smell of fresh cut grass, and the blue sky floating dreamily above us.

 “Let me up…..now!” I demand as I fight, struggle, writhe, and squirm, feeling the panic attack rising again when I notice his gaze intensifying, his pupils dilated.  He isn’t breathing hard as he holds me helplessly in this position.  When I realize that he isn’t going to do anything, I finally stop.

 “You ready to talk?” He asked, but I could swear his voice sounds hoarse.

 “Don’t you feel anything at all?” I ask softly.  “If it were me, I’d be shouting my head off, with all this frustration and crazy that’s gone by for sixteen years.  I’m mad, Iain.  I’m angry for your behalf because I’m your friend and I…care about you.”  I can’t bring myself to admit that I feel more than that.  I add hastily, avoiding the topic.  “I’m also hurt that you won’t let me in on what you’re thinking; I thought that’s what friends do, tell each other things about themselves because they trust each other. But here you are, acting cold, unfeeling like you don’t care and it’s….tearing me apart.”  I turn my head because I don’t want him to see the tears welling up my face.  “I’m not supposed to care, Iain but I do.  I know that you aren’t willing to share everything that’s ever happened to you, because that’s who you are, but can’t you at least let me in?”  

 There’s a long sharp intake of his breath. I realize that I’m finally getting through to him.  Sometimes, I swear for a remarkably smart man, Iain can be so obtuse.  He’s probably been thinking that I was worried about Neil’s feelings, when it was him I worried about most.  I couldn’t bring myself to admit that even while I spent time with his charismatic, charming brother, he was all I could think about from that time at the coffee shop to Breadsticks when he saw us.  

 “When I was few years younger than Neil, I got into a lot of brawls.” He said quietly.  I barely notice that he’s let go of my wrist and moves slightly to adjust his weight despite not moving elsewhere as he stares down looking at me.  There’s an contained expression on his handsome features as if he’s just analyzing his thoughts for the first time.  “I was pretty pent-up all the time so I picked fights with anyone at anytime.  I didn’t care if they were bigger or they were more in number than I could handle. I was angry and wanted to do serious harm.  I’d come home with black eyes and a cut lip.  It drove my father and great-grandmother crazy.  I was almost expelled at one of my former schools.”

 “When was this?” “Early teens. They immediately sent me to Scotland to deal with my drama.”

 “How did you overcome it?”

He smiles bitterly at the memory of it.  “I had a teacher, a former military man, who saw I had potential when it came to contact sports so he made me join the varsity football. Plus he made me do crazy army drills like as if it were juvenile boot camp; I also learned how to play rugby and martial arts during my stay there.  I was a natural at soccer, but my great-grandmother would never allow me to play professionally.” He snickers at the memory.  “You should see how the Scots play football.  It can get pretty out of control sometimes that survival is a necessity than scoring a goal,” he jokes chuckling at the memory.

 “Did you find some other way to vent your anger?”

 “I did some target shooting too.”  Iain added.  “I think all the gun powder and deafening sounds made me lose my frustration all together.”

 “Are you going to let me up now?”  I’m now highly aware that we’re still lying on the ground.  I want to move as far as possible away from him as I can.  It’s hard to imagine that Iain was the brawling type.  My heart goes out to the image of a young dark-haired pre-teen who was helpless, angry, and confused.  Not to mention lonely, having to live a life without his mother who was a thousand miles away and a father who was barely there when he was hurt and needed him the most.

 Plus, I was finding it harder to concentrate.  With my anger dissipated, all I now feel is something close to yearning.  To run my hand against that unruly lock of hair, to feel that hard, freshly shaven angled face on my hand.  I felt a small ache running through my heart imagining Iain as a young boy coming home with a bruised eye and cut lip  

 “Depends if you’re going to hit me again.”  He says dryly as he looks at my lip, which I know is quivering with something related to excitement.  He reluctantly lets me up, but his eyes have a dark shimmer to them and I imagine for a second that he’s feeling the same surge of desire I felt earlier.  I shake my wayward thoughts as he rolls away and sits up, offering me to do the same.  We sit side by side together in silence as we look at the sun set on my front lawn.

 “I was resentful for a long time,” Iain says quietly after a long companionable stillness.  “I blamed my dad, my mom, and even myself for everything that happened.  I blamed my dad for being too proud for not being able to get her back; I blamed my mother for being helpless and not doing anything to stop my great-grandmother from sending me to live with her in England.  For a while, I even thought that maybe I was to blame for their divorce.”

 “Iain, it wasn’t your fault.  You were a child.”

 “I know that now,” he agrees, his voice solemn.  “It just got to a point that I was so tired of being angry that when I was old enough, I forced myself to stop with the nonsense. I did just that, accepted the things I couldn’t change and moved on.  Since then, I haven’t shown any form of extreme emotion.  So forgive me if you think I’m a cold, heartless clout.”

 “I’m sorry,” I say honestly, putting my hand on his arm.  He rewards me with a careless half smile and holds my hand by giving it a firm squeeze.

 He shakes his head.  I’m acutely aware that he has made no effort to retract his hand.  “No, you were right to call me out on my bluff.  I should have considered Neil’s feelings as well. He’s a remarkable kid. Mature for his age, bright, insightful, and a hell of a lot more selfless than I was when I was his age.  He looks and reminds me a lot of my father.  It’s a shame they never met.  If there’s anything that I feel towards this….it’s regret.”

 “What are you going to do about it?  I mean, the whole thing with Neil and everything else?”

 He lets a long exasperated sigh.  “It’s going to be a shock.  The rest of my family doesn’t know because my father kept his will and Neil’s identity a secret.  He left a clause specifically not informing everyone that he wasn’t to be contacted until he reached 18 years old.  I found an article about my mom’s twin some months ago and had I not been as persistent, I wouldn’t have known about him either.”

 “So what happened to your father’ assets?  Surely there would have been questions about father’s will?”

 “He gave some to charity.  He invested a company that was in mass producing spy cameras so that was a booming business, but he left a quarter to be handled by his trusted employees and financers, while the rest, he invested in other stock, which now Neil currently will inherit.  So when he died, his company ran just as efficiently and managed to go on even without him.”

 “Iain?”

“Yes?”

 “There are things about you that I know you’re not ready to tell me.  I understand why you hesitate in doing so, but I thank you for at least letting me in some part of your life.” I tell him quietly.  

 It’s the truth.

  I already knew the minute Iain stepped in our house that he came from money.  Actually, I knew it the minute I saw him at the lobby in the Intercontinental, looking like a handsome, worldly, young prince dressed in expensive designer clothes.  For a while, I had been dying to ask him about who he was, but I realize that he’s already showing that side of him that I’ve never known which I find far more valuable than his money.  This part of him is what I found most attractive and endeared him further to my heart.  He’s sensitive, sometimes a bit moody and unpredictable, but that excites me like no other, he also has a kind heart, seeing how considerate he’s been with Neil. I noticed how his younger brother goaded him into a fight, but Iain remained composed and collected like a dignified diplomat. There were times when he allows himself to show me his vulnerability that I could catch that glimpse of the young boy who eagerly played the piano and the angry teenager who blamed himself for what transpired between his parents’ marriage.

 Iain looks at me wordlessly.  He looks nonplussed as he stares with this unreadable expression on his face.  I excuse myself and go back to the house to collect my thoughts and give us some distance. When I’m inside, I glance at the window and look again at the front lawn where Iain and I tussled earlier.  He was still sitting where I left him.  He appears pensive and has the loneliest expression on his face.  I would’ve comforted him, but right now I’m confused by my own emotions and the gravity of what transpired today that I leave him and march straight to bed.

    The next two days pass by with a blur.  I avoided Iain deliberately because I saddened by the idea that I knew the inevitable was coming to a close.  He was everything I wanted, but I knew it was impossible to have him.  It was because I knew I had a life ahead of me and pursuing a relationship with someone who obviously couldn’t commit either was fruitless.  Plus, I didn’t want to miss him too much either.

  My mother and Fran would be returning from their trip in less than three days so I busied myself with my scholarship application, doing more research about Yale, studying for my finals, devoting my time to God squad and Glee club.  I even tried convincing Sue Sylvester for another try at Cheerios which she relented saying that she would consider it. I would only come down and eat breakfast, only to be driven by Anton, whom I already suspected worked for Iain. Anton would glance at me in silence with a questioning look on his face, which I ignored as well.  Then, at dinnertime, I would carry a tray up to my bedroom and spend the rest of the evenings upstairs studying for my finals.  Iain was pretty much MIA as well, because he was busy arranging what I was thinking was a reunion involving introducing Neil with the rest of his family.

 -------------------------

[5amanthus]

1, 2, 5, 11, 17, 19, 25, 34, 40, 48, 50 I hope these aren't too much

AAAAHH too many questions! Goodness! XD No, I’m just kidding, thank you!

1: Your first OC ever? That’s definitely going a while back. I can’t possibly remember my very first OC but my first written one was a mermaid that could fly named Scarlet. She was for an incredibly crappy TMNT story I wrote XD

2: Do you have a personal favourite among your OCs? Oh god, I so do. I’m going to be a parent who chooses favourites, aren’t I? Although it’s more of a group of OCs rather than just one favourite. I have way too may for just one. 

5: If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be? Okay this is a really hard one XD I mean I want all of them to be popular but the first one that pops into mind is a drone named Troy. He’s still my proudest and first angsty creation (In the series he is in). He was literally created out of an angsty idea. I love him.

11: Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a “sunshine”? Fucking Lively. Definitely lively, he’s on the dim side but that’s probably why he can be happy in the middle of a war. There are quite a few other sweeties but he’s probably the l i v e l i e s t XD Unless this is sarcastic, if it’s sarcastic than probably Sheldon. He managed to ruin donuts but that’s a story for the actual story XD

17: Any OC OTPs? Ooohh boy hold onto your seat, a flood of names is about to be coming your way. Alright so Troy x George, Lively x Lynx, Bill x Nye, Phil x Bartholomew, Carlos x Pablo x Tony, Deepstrike x Tyler x Soundblaster, Wreckcircuit x Error, There is an OT10 and I love every single one of them, Ominous x Oscar, Py x Darius, Romeo (I actually have a drawing of him done) x Rico. Non-TLAD (Rust Dusk x Break-Bulk)  And like so many more that I’m gonna be like ‘damn it I forgot them!’ later but honestly I think that’s quite a few right there XD I’d go into more detail but I doubt there is enough room on here. 

19: Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why) Honestly all of them mean so much to me but again I’ll probably have to go with Troy. When it doubt, go with him XD I mean most of the characters I have are either pieces of me or things that I want to be. Troy is kind of both of those things, what I am and what I want to be. He tries to be there for everyone and sometimes it feels like there is no one there for him. Though he does have friends and he does his best, it doesn’t stop him from becoming down. When ever I’m having a depressed night, I can always put it in him, translate my thoughts into his own and it always makes me feel better because I can give him someone to help him with his issue (my issue) at any given moment. It’s therapeutic and he means a lot to me even as his own individual self, I’d honestly love to meet him in real life XD

25: The OC that resembles you the most (same hobby, height, shared like/dislike for something etc?) Troy X’D Although he is much taller than me. 

34. Do you have any twin characters? Yes I do! I have Ominous and Neuro who don’t really get along too well and first get split up by faction and then by alternate dimensions! Ominous sees Neuro again but alas Neuro never sees Ominous again. Also ‘Damien and Desmond. Demetrius and Violet’. But those ‘’ are drone babies. And then Renegade and Genocide are twins although they don’t look alike because they had the same carrier but not the same sire so it’s a little bit complicated! I really need more twins though honestly. Only non-TLAD ones I have are Dakota and Dubstep. 

40. Any fond memories linked to your characters? Feel free to share! Honestly just getting to create characters is amazing. Especially ones from TLAD which is a series I’m working on with a friend. So just getting to share ideas, laugh, cry, and create new lives is amazing! Not to mention it’s pretty fantastic when I pull out my ‘Angst Beast’ card and start throwing some heart breaking shit into the mix XD

48. OC who is a perfect cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure. Goodness there are so many! I’m a sucker for sweeties. Honestly Inter Phy with all her symbionts, Troy, Ominous, Oscar, Tyler, Lively, Soundblaster, Ethan, Tyson, Noah or Neil (I can’t remember which is which but they’re both nice though I love to refer to one of them as a glazed cinnamon roll cause he’s sweet and pure, but so not when it comes to the berth XD) Bill, just like, so many of them. And then non-TLAD ones would have to be Data Axis, Static Surge, Grappler (Alien), (Humans) Amelia, Keena, Celeste, and Amber. 

50. Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you wantIf you want. Ah, this question holds too much power!!!! Honestly 90% of my Ocs are Transformers and 70% of those are Drones. I should probably talk about some of the more Cybertronian ones cause they deserve just as much love! It’s hard to remember names when you’re actually being asked but I’ll just roll with ‘1st generation’ TLAD Cybertronian characters (yes there are so many that generations are needed) So Inter Phy is going to be the first character anyone is going to be introduced to in the TLAD series once I get her story up. She’s a Minicon-Seeker hybrid in Vos, and as would probably be expected, she is not welcomed. Abandoned as a child she is left to fend for her own, and as if things weren’t bad enough, she made a small mistake that got her in trouble so her face, her wings, and her alt-mode were removed. What she did? You’ll just have to read Memory when it comes out XD Next up is Ominous, an incredibly large and awkward Decepticon boi. His upbringing was a bit better even if he rejected his family and ended up in the gladiatorial pits! And then into the Decepticon ranks where we was reunited with his twin only to have their relationship shaken again by betrayal and then split even further across dimensions. But he’s a good, pure child, who tries his best and makes a few horrible jokes along the way. Those are just my favourite Decepticon’s though. My favourite Autobot OCs would have to be Error and Wreckcircuit. Error is a white and black jeep who has pink optics. He tried to join the Decepticons at first but was literally such a screw up they didn’t want him. Now he gets to make mistakes on the Autobot side but he tries his best and actually ended up getting a bf from a mistake. Wreckcircuit is a lil black Minibot with green and blue highlights. He turns into a smart car and has who different coloured optics which he is embarrassed about and wears glasses to cover it. He’s actually quite sneaky and usually frequents on the Nemesis as a spy giving Soundwave a run for his money. Honestly though there are just too many characters for this meme X’D

Sorry if this is a long read! 

[ladysqueakinpip]

All the OC questions with the selkie fam, which includes the 3 bros, Irena, and Anneliese, and also the boys mom if she's developed enough

HECK Y’ALL KNOW HOW TO DELIVER

*these asks are from this post in case anyone wants to either send more or reblog the original 

unfortunately i’m going to skip their mom for now just because she’s not developed enough :’c

1. Do any of your OCs have a speech impediment?

elian: nope! but megan suggested he sound congested all the time because of the ridiculous sounds weddell seals make

abbe: none

roland: none

irena: none

anneliese: none

2. Do any of your OCs have a physical disability?

elian: already answered! 

abbe: none

roland: none; im suddenly considering giving him bad eyesight though #glasses_roland2017

irena: none

anneliese: none

3. What is your OCs favorite band if they have one? (i’m answering this assuming they have access to the broad variety of music we have) 

elian: i feel like he would like the sound of bands like fall out boy, daft punk, imagine dragons etc. but he would like the lyrics of twenty one pilots more because he relates to them the most 

abbe: bryan adams?? phil collins?? elton john?? someone like that. 

roland: i’m torn because i want roland to be an edgelord but i also want him to be a quiet shy baby so why not both? i think he would like Gorillaz. sometimes laid back and chill and other times a little edgier. also in with the type of kids i feel like he would hang out with. 

irena: something a little older from when she was a teenager. probably a female artist. why are gwen stefani or celine dion sticking out to me?

anneliese: SHE’S THE 12 YEAR OLD GIRL WHOS OBSESSED WITH BOYBANDS like one direction and 5 seconds of summer. i feel like she would also love softer female artists like regina spektor

4. Does your OC have anything they take pride in? (like an award or collection?)

elian: *vibrates excitedly* spoilers

abbe: mostly how he’s been given the ability to… move on? his mom is still trapped in their family’s past tragedies and roland and elian are dragged down with that as well, but abbe’s been the one to grow and rebuild the house and get married and now he’s gonna be a dad soon. he’s proud he’s been able to continue the legacy. 

roland: he’s really proud of the things relating to his equestrian hobbies. he’s just starting out in the horse-breeding business but he has one or two really nice mares and im sure he has another one he’s training for the royal guard. he’s also the best rider in his family because its like all he does lol. 

irena: she was able to get out from under the shadow of her mother. irena and her mom don’t really like each other and her mom was always disappointed that she decided to become a knight instead of trying to climb the social ladder. they kind of stopped talking. ironically enough, irena ended up basically being adopted into a Duke’s family and though it’s super petty and very vengeful i think irena’s also proud of how she became everything her mother wanted in her own way and without her mom’s help. she likes to think of her mom being salty and jealous. 

anneliese: her reputation! she had to essentially rebuild it from the ground up after her dad did naughty scandalous things but she’s proven herself to the people who serve her. 

5. Does your OC have a favorite film? (answering like they live in modern times)

elian: he likes superhero movies, like the marvel movies. i haven’t actually seen a lot of these so i can’t pick the one that’s his favorite but i have a feeling it’s like captain america or spiderman. he wont stop making jokes about how roland is emo peter parker. 

abbe: already answered!

roland: black beauty he strikes me as the type who would like psychological thrillers like the shining or inception. movies that have lots of deep layers and summaries you stay up late reading until you’re too scared to go to bed. 

irena: she would like things with very traditional elaborate fight scenes and dynamic relationships and cool props and swords and armor and epic battles so basically she’s a lord of the rings fan. 

anneliese: literally the only thing coming to my mind are the twilight movies. the fault in our stars. ya’know stuff like that. i think she would be a big sucker for the princess bride. 

6. How tall is your OC?

elian: 5′1″

abbe: 5′7″

roland: 5′6″

irena: 5′2″

anneliese: 5′0″

7. Does your OC have any celebrity crushes? (answering like they live in modern times) 

elian: i don’t think he really follows celebrities he cares more about the quality of the movies they make. 

abbe: maybe he had one when he was younger but now that he’s married and has a kid on the way he doesn’t have time for these kinds of trivial things he has to focus on the #wife. 

roland: the actresses who are a little older but very #classic. julie andrews. judy garland. he might also like modern stars like anne hathaway or emma stone. one of those two. 

irena: what if she was a david bowie fan i feel bad not immediately saying her husband dwayne the rock johnson

anneliese: nick jonas. justin timberlake. orlando bloom. every boy from one direction. you get my drift. 

8. Do you ship any 2 of your OCs?

elian: ANNELIESE

abbe: his beautiful loving delicate sensitive understanding wife rosalie k thanks bye

roland: his super big crush on lady jeannine harpers kills me everyday

irena: dwayne the rock johnson

anneliese: ELIAN

9. How would you describe your OCs fashion taste?

elian: bold. he likes things that make him feel adventurous like big hats with feathers or sturdy boots. he’s upper class so he’s still gotta look nice but he goes for that “i’m a rich guy who’s never been camping in my life but i went out and bought all this super nice fancy camping gear so people will think i’m professional when i’m not” look. 

abbe: very presentable, always On Point™. he’s gotta dress to impress, so all his clothes are neatly pressed and he tries not to wrinkle them up too much or get them dirty. he tends to trade in neutral colors like white and black for things a little brighter to liven up the house a bit. he’s still young. let abbe be Free™.

roland: he’s a big emo hot topic baby and the only thing he’ll wear is black.

irena: sleek shiny new armor that’s hand-crafted with details carved into the breastplate and shoulder pieces. regal deep colors and clean polished boots. 

anneliese: PINK. big poofy dresses. less of a focus on patterns and more of a focus on teeny cutesy details. 

10. Does your OC have any special talents?

elian: lmao i’ve never talk about this before but i sort of headcanon he’s alright at. fishing. it’s dangerous for him to swim and when his dad was around he was in the same situation. as selkies they still had a strong draw towards the water so instead of fishing as seals they would bond with each other by going to the shore or out on a boat and just have some quiet fishing time. :’) but anyway because of all that elian is much better at using a fishing rod than other selkies are. 

abbe: he seems like a really average family-man kinda guy so i want him to have some talent that’s just so obscure and ridiculous and totally unexpected. he can juggle with his knees. he has this 6th sense that tells him when it’s going to rain. i’m confirming all this for canon immediately. 

roland: he sort of gives me the “intellectual” kind of vibes in a good way and in a bad way. he was probably very good at school/his studies and for some reason history is really sticking out to me the most! while roland and elian don’t really get along i kinda headcanon roland had to tutor elian a lot when they were working through their school books together. 

irena: she can play an instrument, i know that much! i haven’t decided what she plays, but i’m thinking some type of fictional string instrument. she teaches elian how to play some instruments, too, because we all know that poor child is bored out of his mind. 

anneliese: she loves the whole wide world and reads a lot as a weird form of escapism? reading is her way of connecting to all the people and all the places in the world and it exercises her imagination. she’s probably a SUPER FAST reader and i bet she has a scary-big vocabulary for a girl as young as herself haha. 

11. Is your OC really bad at something?

elian: already answered!

abbe: SELF CARE abbe will work himself to the bone and push down all of his personal feelings and hurt to put his family first. i don’t think he wants to be that way but he was kind of forced into that mindset after he had to immediately step up to his dad’s position and then get married on top of that like he had so many big life-altering changes thrown at him within a years time poor boy didn’t even have time to grieve or adequately manage his emotional state. 

roland: being an individual haha. more like being openly opinionated and voicing those opinions. he “aaron burr”s the heck outta life with his “don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for” attitude. he doesn’t want to give anyone a reason to start drama with him. 

irena: already answered! 

anneliese: already answered! 

12. Does your OC have both of their parents?

abbe, roland, and elian lost their dad 3 years before the story starts. for a good time after that their mom was not…. entirely there emotionally either so abbe is basically New Dad™. 

irena: yes

anneliese: her dad is… kind of in prison?? so like he’s there but not there ya know. and who knows about her mom i’ll talk about that in the next question. anyway her aunt and uncle took her into the family and are basically her new mom and dad congrats anneliese. 

13. Does your OC know their parents?

elian: yes

abbe: yes

roland: yes

irena: yes, but she lost contact with her mother years before the story starts and she’s totally uninterested in rekindling the relationship

anneliese: she knows her dad but i haven’t fully decided who her mother is or what happened to her so for now??? my answer is who knows. 

14. Does your OC have any siblings?

abbe, roland and elian are all brothers! they don’t have any other siblings haha. 

irena: none

anneliese: none but she did have a cousin! they were really close when they were little, almost like siblings. the cousin was the old heiress to the estate but she got a bad illness or disease or something like people did back in the good ol’ days and died. now anneliese is the heiress. 

15. Do any of your OCs have pets?

elian: already answered!

abbe: none

roland: already answered!

irena: she might have a nice riding horse but other than that i doubt she has time for her own pet. 

anneliese: i haven’t thought about it but she does seem like an animal kind of girl. if she does i can see her having a super fluffy kitty. 

16. Do you have any nonhuman OCs?

17. Do you have any OCs you haven’t posted about?

18. How would you describe your OCs nature in one word?

elian: righteous 

abbe: altruistic

roland: distant

irena: meticulous

anneliese: dreamy

19. Who is your youngest OC? (i’m combining this question with the other one and just saying their ages) 

elian: 13 yrs

abbe: 21 yrs

roland: 16 yrs

irena: 33 yrs

anneliese: 12 yrs

20. Who is your oldest OC?

21. What race is your OC?

they’re all selkies!

22. Would your OC like you?

elian: he would like some things about me, then find other things completely infuriating. 

abbe: he’d probably think i was a little too casual and maybe a bit weird, but he wouldn’t hate me either! 

roland: i think we’d be cool. 

irena: we could have a couple really nice conversations. 

anneliese: she would!