#so a while back i was talking to myle and i don't know how we got there tbh but they told me they calculated the bands birth chart

[ghost-of-you]

Happy 11 years, 5 Seconds of Summer!

[alotofpockets]

Highs and lows | Lia Wälti x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Reader is a type 1 diabetic and experiences both hypo- and hyperglycemic events. I hope all the medical talk is right!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

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One of the things you loved to do outside of football, was going on walks with some of the girls on your team. When you and your sister Lia made the move to London, you had found a second family in your Arsenal teammates. The friendships you made here went beyond the pitch, and you were forever grateful to have gotten a place amongst them.

Today you were joined by Lia, Steph, Viv, Beth, and Leah. As well as Myle and Calvin, the dogs were both running around the park as the rest of you were talking. 

“Oh hi Myle girl, do you want me to throw the ball?” The dog had dropped the tennis ball into your lap, so you got up to play with her. You made a quick stop to grab your water bottle before you ran back to the dogs. Myle had so much energy, so she kept running up and down the field, while Calvin stayed closer to your side. You throw the ball for Myle again, but your vision goes blurry right after. You knew the feeling all too well, and sat down slowly. Calvin moved closer to you and started barking. Steph looked up at the sudden loudness from her dog, who usually is rather quiet, and notices you on the grass. 

“Hey Lia”, Steph didn’t even have to finish her sentence, the tone of her voice told Lia enough, she looked over to you and rushed to your side when she saw you were on the ground.

“I'm here.” She reaches for your hand, while reaching for her phone with the other. She taps the device to the patch on your arm, letting it read your glucose levels. You had been diagnosed with diabetes type 1 when you were a kid, so the symptoms were very familiar to your sister, and to the team now as well. “It’s low.” By now she didn't even have to tell you what she was going to do, as she was with you for a lot of your highs and lows. She grabs a juice box out of her bag, and tells you to drink up.

“Here, lean into me.” You heard Leah's voice behind you. Her hands on your shoulders guided you into her. The girls knew that there was nothing they could do for you, and that they would just have to wait for your glucose levels to get back up, but that didn't mean that they wouldn't try to make it as comfortable for you as possible. 

Slowly but surely you started feeling better, the blurred vision faded, and you felt a little stronger again. While you had gotten used to the hypo- and hyperglycemic events, they were still a little scary to experience, because you'd never know when one would be more severe.

“Come on, let's get you home.” Lia extends her hands to you, after you let her know you were ready to get up. Once you were up, she hugged you tight, always a little scared of the events herself. 

“Why don't you come to our place?” Beth offers, “We live closer, you can rest there.” You agreed instantly, the less you had to walk right now the better. Back at Beth and Viv’s place you find yourself slowly drifting to sleep cuddled into Viv’s side, with Myle on your chest. 

You’re woken up by the smell of one of your favourite dishes lingering in the air. “Hey, how are you feeling?” Viv asks when she notices that you were awake again. “Good enough for that delicious meal Lia is cooking up.” The girl you’re still laying against chuckles, “Ah good, you’re back.”

You looked around the room to find Leah, Steph, and Calvin had left the home, while Lia was in the kitchen with Beth. Though, you knew your sister did all the cooking, because Viv always loved to tell you how bad of a chef Beth really was. You got up and joined the rest for dinner.

The next few days your blood sugar levels didn’t have any major spikes, there was the occasional high and low, but nothing that wasn’t quickly fixed. 

On game day you were rushing out of the house, cause you forgot to put your alarm. You rolled out of bed, hopped in the shower, and quickly changed into your match day outfit, before you headed to your car. 

You knew it was stupid to skip meals, because it would most likely influence your blood sugar levels later on, but right now the only thought on your mind was getting to the stadium on time. Which luckily you managed to do, you headed into the locker room where everyone was about ready to start warming up. After quickly putting on your cleats, and your training kit, you followed the team out.

“Everything alright?” Your sister asked as she put her arm on your shoulder to warm up her legs. You nod, “I overslept. Forgot to set my alarm, but I’m all good.” You continue warming up together, before running some drills with the rest of the girls. 

On the pitch everything was going great until it wasn’t. You felt very shaky, and were sweating more than during a regular game. Trying to push the feelings aside only worked for a few minutes, with one tackle you were on the ground, and your body fully gave into the high blood sugar. Both Lia and the medics came rushing your way.

“You need to check her glucose levels.” Your sister instructed. The medic already had a phone in their hand to tap it to your patch. “We’ve got her Lia, don’t worry.” The phone quickly gave the glucose levels, and showed they were very high. 

“I’m going to give you an insuline shot, to get your levels down quickly.” You simply nodded, not caring how they would lower your blood sugar, as long as you would stop feeling this way. After the shot, your body started slowly feeling stronger again. The medics walked you off the field, and sat you down on the bench. Steph sat down next to you, and you leaned into her side. She took the bag of nuts the medical assistant handed over, and opened the bag for you. 

When the halftime whistle blew you headed into the locker room, while Steph went to warm up with the rest of the bench. 

“What happened?” Your sister’s worried voice rang out the moment you sat down. She didn’t even let you answer the first question, before she continued. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? You know how bad it can get if you don’t treat your highs and lows on time.” 

“Since I was in a hurry this morning I kind of forgot to have breakfast. I swear I was going to eat something when I got here, but you were all ready to warm up, so I forgot in the rush again.” You knew that skipping meals wasn’t good for your glucose levels, and you really didn’t do it on purpose, and you needed Lia to know that. “I should’ve said it sooner, but it was almost half time. I thought I would be alright until then.”

Lia uncrossed her arms, and the angry facade fell. “Please don’t ever scare me like that again!” She sat down and put her arm around you, happy to know that you were alright again. You listened to Kim and Leah discuss the tactics for the second half of the game, and made your way back to the bench when it was time to head back again. 

The team ended up winning the match. After the second half you felt a lot better again, so you walked the victory round next to your sister, who was happy to have you properly on your feet again.

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[wosowffc]

You need checked kid

Reader get injured in training but is too scared to get help

You had been at the club now a couple of months your only young, 17 to be precise, so had been living with Viv and Beth. You hadn't really expected to be living with a couple as you only have living with team mates as you never knew your mum and dad but Beth and Viv is what you needed just didn't know until u moved in. Viv has gone to Man City now but it's yours Beth and myles favourite time at weekends if she comes down.

Training is tough you had some struggles settling in but they are ironed out now, though you refused to do a medical as you got too worked up.

Living with Beth means you had gotten close to her closer freind group at club like Steph and when getting your first senior call up you attached to alessia and Beth.

You walked out that Monday morning feeling nice and refreshed Viv took you up to Manchester when beth had freinds visiting from Spain so it was a nice few days with her and myle also meeting some of the Man City girl though playing against them you hadn't really had conversations.

Drills started off and went well, some girls were doing solo training off to the side and some still feeling the acl effects but are close to a return which I'm so excited for them. We finish up doing some 5v5s there's about 4 happening each having a half of a pitch each. I was playing against Steph and Beth and alessia was accompanying me as a forward with Leah Katie and manu making up the team.

I was laid face down. What happened? How'd I get here? What's the ringing about? Questions flooded and I tried to push myself up with my arm which were quick to shake violently not pushing me far from the ground. I feel hands either side of my head.

"Stay still kid, it's alright don't move to much ok. You've hit ur head a good slap" alessia is above my me as I move onto mt back and she's still holding my head. Beth and Steph come rushing into my visson.

"Don't worry the medics are coming over now ok" Steph says rubbing my arm with a hand on my stomach. No. I can't. No medics.

"I'm fine. Please I'm just, let me up" you push them away as they all try get you to stay still

"Yn no come on, you need checked kid" Beth if I could run right now trust I would be in Scotland how quick I would go.

I get up the startling sickness very prominently present as the grass spins and the building contort. I start to walk , in a straight line, no but I'm getting away before the medics try to look over me. I'm scared. Petrified even of anything to do with doctors and yes I know technically there not but to me I'm still scared to the pit of my soul.

We arive home Beth telling me the whole car ride that I should have gone looked over while still making sure I was ok herself handing me water and food which I couldn't eat every corner bump pot hole made me feel like the world was moving more than it already was.

Viv rang worried after Beth had told her of course she had tried to talk me into it to b it my decision was final.

The match two days later against liverpool had been going pritty well. There been a few goals but I knew Id been off since hitting my head, should I have let someone know before hand yes but right now something was wrong seriously wrong. on the front line with alessia I start to walk towards her as the ball moves away.

She immediately grabs my side, moving to one knee to see my face.

"Yn!, yn hey are you ok, yn answer me!" She says as you head moves to her chest and u fall forward into her.

"Put her on her side less" Beth calls out running over as the team watches nervously at the side.

The girls fumble around me limp on the floor at the Center of them. The medics come over putting me on a stretcher and rush me in an ambulance.

The hospital. This is my hell on earth. I have no fears I like spider snakes what ever else I'm fine but doctors and all this is a no. go. area.

I woke with a groan seeing Beth next to me alseep hand on my leg. No, no, no I can't be here. Machines start rapidly getting faster which causes Beth to wake up form nex to me. She attempts to calm me.

It's about half an hour later after been given something to calm by the nurse Steph and alessia arive after getting a text from Beth and bringing you some food.

"You have a sever concussion from training yn. You can go home soon ok promise but they just want to take caution ok?" Alessia says before Viv comes in and gives me a kiss on my forehead

[pitchsidestories]

Don’t Be So Hard on Yourself II Laia Codina x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2161

A/N: based of this request. Let us know what you think.

Like every week, Jonas Eidevall announced his starting line up for the upcoming game a few days before the weekend. And like most weeks, Laia Codina was not in it. Usually she would accept this with a brave face but this time, she left the room right after the announcement. Shocked, you watched your girlfriend go; “Laia…“

You were about to get up as well but Jen Beattie held you back from following her; “Let her.“ “It’s really not easy for her, Jen.“, you explained helplessly. The rest of the Arsenal players had already fallen back into their usual routine of small talk. The Scot nodded empathetically; “It’s never easy to sit on the bench.“ “Very true.“, Lia Wälti agreed.

“Leave her alone for a moment.“, Jen instructed you gently. “Right… I don’t want to annoy her.“, you nodded slowly. “She always puts on a brave face and supports the other players. I know she expected something else when she moved her.“, the Scot continued.

“Especially coming from the World Cup as a Champions… it’s tough.“, you added. You and Laia had talked about it a lot recently. “We all understand that, trust me.“, Jen smiled softly.

Victoria Pelova chimed in; “Yes, we get that.“ “Thanks girls.“, you forced yourself to smile at your team mates. Kim Little who sat next to Jen got up; “I’ll go look after her.“ You thanked your captain with a grateful nod.

Laia sat on the steps outside. She looked up in surprise as Kim approached her; “Kim hi.“ “Are you okay?“, the captain asked, sitting down beside her. “Yes, I’m good.“, the Spanish defender replied, no very convincingly.

But she could not fool her captain. “It’s tough, right?“ “A bit.“, Laia finally admitted, her gaze directed down at her toes. With confidence, Kim replied; “You’ll get your time. Trust me.“ “Are you sure about this?“ Laias voice was filled with insecurity. The captain nodded; “I am. I see how hard you work.“ “That’s what she says too…“, the defender said.

When she looked up, she caught Kim smiling briefly; “Maybe she’s got a point.“ “Yes, but you know as my girlfriend she needs to say stuff like this.“, Laia returned the smile. Kim raised her eyebrows at her team mate; “Yes, but as your captain I’m saying that stuff because it’s true.“

“Appreciate it.“, Laia laughed lightly. Kim bumped her elbow against Laias; “Are you ready to go back inside?“ “I am.“, she confirmed while getting up and pulling the Scot up with her. “Let’s go then. We still need you for the game.“

Meanwhile Steph Catly was putting an arm around your shoulder:” And you stop feeling bad because you’re in the starting line and she isn’t.” “I don’t.”, you muttered. Slowly Beth Mead shook her head:” Yeah, you’re.”

“Maybe a little bit.”, you admitted blushing.  Laughing Katie McCabe padded your back and suggested:” Don’t. Don’t blame yourself, blame Jonas.”  “Katie.”, Vivianne Miedema rolled her eyes at her friend. Cheekily the Irish player threw her hands up:” What? As long as it works, and she feels better.” “I can confirm it helps.”, you told her with a crooked smile on your lips.  

Triumphantly Katie turned around to the Dutch forward:” See!”  “Girls, do you want to grab a coffee and we get Myle?”, Vivianne changed the topic quickly to something more light-hearted.

With that said the owner of Win brought in the puppy she and her girlfriend got which made Beth squeal out loud in delight:”Myle!” “Hello little one.”, you whispered in awe, cuddling the little dog when he approached you and started licking your face. Happily, the blonde dog mum declared: “He says hi too.”  

“Such a good boy. Laia, can we get one too?”, you asked your girlfriend as she was re-entering the room. Quickly Victoria responded, pouting:”No, I’ll get a dog before that.”

“I didn’t know we couldn’t get one if you get one.”, the Spanish defender answered entertained by her reaction. Trying to calm down your teammate you offered her:” Vicky, we could look together at dogs, what do you think about that.” “No, thanks.”, she waved it off. 

Motivated Vivianne clapped into her hands:” Let’s go to the coffeeshop, shall we?”  “Please, Myle needs a puppycino.”, her girlfriend nodded excited. “And I need a human cappuccino before we cook later with Aitana and Keira via facetime.”, you added grinning.

Innocently Alessia was looking at the brunette:” Sounds delicious, Laia are we invited too?” “For the cooking or the dinner?”, Laia wanted to know.

The face of the English player turned slightly pink:” Actually, more for the dinner.” “I knew you’d say that.”, your girlfriend replied smiling. Cheekily Victoria asked her:” Does this mean we can come later?” “Fine.”, Laia sighed in defeat. But you knew she loved having her new teammates over for dinner.

After you had your little coffee catch up with the Arsenal girls you two started cooking in your new appartement.  Amused Aitana looked at you both through your phone screen:” So you want to get a puppy? I need to tell that Mapi, she will love it. Remember she always said you’re the epitome of puppy love when we were younger!”

“Oh, stop it. We’ll never hear the end of it.”, Laia begged the Spanish midfielder giggling.Laughing, you agreed; “Yeah, please. We want to visit Barcelona in peace.“

Keiras face lightened up in surprise and she shared a look with Aitana; “You’re going to visit?“ “Soon, yes.“, you replied. “Can’t wait.“, Aitana smiled happily into the phone camera. “We neither.“, Laia answered while watching Keira stirred their food with a wrinkled nose.

“We need to cook faster. I’m starving.“, she complained. With a gaze to your kitchen clock, you agreed; “Oh yeah, we should hurry up.

The Arsenal girls will be here soon.“ “You invited your team to our BFF night?“, Keira asked, more amused than offended. Laia shrugged in response; “You know how Alessia can do puppy eyes, right? We had no chance.“

“Rude.“, the English midfielder laughed lightly. Her midfield partner at Barcelona agreed; “Honestly, we’re your friends too!“ “We know that.“, Laia rolled her eyes with fondness. “That’s why we’ll see you again soon.“, you added.

“Maybe.“, Laia followed up. Keira repeated; “Maybe?“ “Yeah?“ Before they could start a discussion about your vacation to Barcelona, you changed the topic; “Aitana, how’s your dinner looking?“

“Delicious. Here, look.“ The phone was lifted and the camera flipped so you could see their delicious looking Spanish dish. “Looks amazing.“, you commented.

With a small smile, Keira challenged you; “Bet yours doesn’t look as good.“ You had to suppress a smile, thinking back about how shy and awkward Keira was when had first met her.

Laia in the meantime took her phone to show your friends the large simmering pot that sat on your stove: “Lies. Look at that beauty.“ “That’s a whole lot of food.“, Keira stated, seemingly impressed. “Well, a lot of girls want to join dinner and they’re footballers so that means they’ll be hungry.“, you explained, carefully tasting the hot food. “I see.“

As soon as you were done cooking, Keira and Aitana ended the video call to enjoy their dinner in Barcelona while you in London hosted your team mates. As always when you spent time with them, the evening was filled with laughter and good cheer. You didn’t even notice how quickly time had passed until all your guests had left.

It was around midnight when Laia and you started doing the dishes. “They couldn’t get enough of that dinner, Laia.“, you stated contently. Still elated from the dinner, your girlfriend smiled; “I’ll tell Aitana and Keira that they loved their recipe.“ “You should.“

“They’ll be happy.“, Laia concluded with a laugh. You both silently focused on cleaning for a moment but a thought still whirred in your brain; “Laia, are you happy here?“ The defender paused, wiping her hands on a tea towel before answering; “I am… Why?“

You shrugged; “I was just thinking about your reaction earlier when Jonas made it clear that you’re not in the starting line up… I was worried you might regret joining me at Arsenal.“ “I don’t regret it.“, Laia replied quickly. You could see that there was more going on so you prompted her to continue; “But?“

“I was expecting to get more game time after the World cup.”, the brunette explained, her voice couldn’t conceal her disappointment. Softly you promised her: “Trust me, your time to shine will come.” “Hopefully.”, she whispered, her shoulders shrinking.

Saddened by her body language you pulled her into a hug:” Laia, don’t be so hard on yourself.” “I’ll just try to become better.”, Laia told you with a weak smile on her lips. More hopeful the defender added:” I feel like I can do it.” “I know you can.”, you tried to cheer her up.

Gratefully she pressed a kiss on your forehead, mumbling against your skin:” Thanks love.” “You’re welcome.”, you replied sincerely. The Spanish woman decided after your embrace:” Let’s go to bed. Tomorrow is training.” You swiftly followed her to your bedroom; the promise of better days was in the air.

It seemed like the effort Laia put into her training paid off because Jonas put her up in the starting line against Reading at the end of January. On match day Vivianne hummed:” Look at you, you’re so proud of your girlfriend.”

“Oh, shut up, Viv.”, you playfully elbowed her.  The Dutch forward kept teasing you: “What? It’s true.”  “Yes, okay, you’re right, I’m really happy for her.”, you admitted proudly grinning into your girlfriend’s direction who was just getting ready for the match in your team’s locker room.

Amused Vivianne looked at you:” Told you.” “So cute.”, Beth tuned in with an equally wide smile. Your teammates making you groan out loud: “Not you too.” “What?”, the English blonde answered innocently.

Meanwhile Jonas announced cheerfully: “Girl’s time to go off on that pitch and play.” “Thank god.”, you muttered relieved before turning to Laia, whispering into her ear, good luck, love.” The defender kissed your cheek: “Thank you, mi amor.”

In the second half the Spanish player did score, Victoria exclaimed happily:” Nice goal, Laia!” “Thanks.”, Laia answered blushing. Beaming Jen Beattie padded her shoulders:” Welcome to the Arsenal.” “Thanks.”, she chuckled.

Eyerolling the Dutch midfielder turned to the Scottish player:” She’s been here for half a year, Jen!” “She didn’t score yet though.”, Jen defended herself. Curious Laia glanced at the older woman:” Is that the moment when you become a real gooner?” “Yes.”, the Scottish player nodded delighted.

For a moment you embraced her: “Congrats.” “Thank you.”, your girlfriend said, cheeks turning redder after your hug. Clearing her throat Beth reminded you all:” We got to go back to work, girls.” “Exactly.”, Kim agreed.

After the match you and Leah walked into the locker room together:” Lee, your assist was great.” “Thanks. Feels good to be back.”, the blonde confessed smiling.

Like every professional player you knew what a big moment it was so you added: “I can imagine.” “It was perfect.”, Beths eyes sparkled fondly while thinking of her goal. Teasing you glanced at her:” Yeah, pretty decent goal, Beffy.” “Decent?!”, the goal scorer repeated playfully hurt.

Jen interrupted you, a guitar in hand. “Guys, listen.“, she called, playing the first chords. Kim gave her an unimpressed look; “What are you doing?“ “It’s something we worked on, right Jen?“, Leah responded, sitting down next to Jen and started singing. Rolling her eyes, Kim shook her head about her team mates while Laia held her hand out towards you.

You took it and let her pull you in to slow dance to the song. Smiling, you looked at each other until Katie shouted; “Disgusting cute couple!“ “I agree.“, Kim mumbled. “Oh, you two let them breathe.“, Caitlin rolled her eyes. Jen nodded: “Yeah, let them have fun.“

Laughing, Caitlin slapped Katie on her upper arm; “Also you could just ask me to dance with you, Katie.“ The Irish player grimaced immediately; “Ew, no.“ “Ignore them, Laia.“, you smiled, your eyes locked with hers. “But…“, she started. “Hm?“ “Doesn’t matter.“ “Okay.“ “Let’s enjoy this.“, Laia stated, continuing to sway with her hands on your hips. “Alright.“, you nodded.

She let her forehead rest against yours; “That was a great game.“ “Agreed.“, you smiled, genuinely happy for your girlfriend. “It feels like the hard work finally paid off.“ Carefully, you caressed her cheek with one hand; “You definitely deserved it.“ “Thank you.“ Jens voice snapped you two out of your moment; “Girls? Everyone left already.“

You hadn’t even realized that the music had stopped playing. “We’re coming.“, you called as Jen left the dressing room as well. Laia took her football bag; “Yes, on our way.“ On your way out, you took your girlfriends hand and pressed a quick kiss to her lips; “Certainly a day to remember.“

[gamecrash716]

Discount (Pt 1)

Ships:

Kade Burns/Myles

Cody Burns/Priscilla Pynch

Kade walked into the kitchen, chuckling to himself about the sweet deal he got at the local diner. Little did he know it would come back to bite him.

Cody was daydreaming while eating cereal, Dani was attempting to make herself breakfast, Graham was making toast, and Charlie was sipping coffee while reading the newspaper.

"Mornin family," Kade said. "You're a bit late today," Graham said. Kade scoffed, "I needed some extra beauty sleep." Dani rolled his eyes at Kade's comment, and Charlie chuckled at it and continued reading. Then he read something that made him almost spit out his coffee. It took everyone by surprise by the action and got Cody out of his daydream.

"Uh, dad, is everything okay?" Cody asked. Charlie cleared his throat, "Just the news, son," "A rumor that's been going around the town for a few weeks ago." Dani raised an eyebrow, "What rumor?" If it was so bad that Charlie almost spat out his coffee, Dani wants in on the gossip. "Let me see," Dani said, and Charlie handed over the newspaper. "What does it say?" Graham asked.

"Ex-Theif Turned Rich Girl's Babysitter Is Possibly Dating the Oldest Burns!"

The four family members turn to look at Kade. His face was almost red as a fire hydrant. Charlie and Graham were in disbelief, Dani could see it happening, and Cody was mad and glared at Kade. "So it's okay for you to tease me for crushing on Priscilla, but you're outright dating her babysitter." Cody sneered. He knew his brother could be a bit of a hypocrite at times, but these are the few times where it genuinely made him mad. "You definitely don't wanna see the pictures then," Dani said.

"PICTURES?!"

Dani put the newspaper on the table and opened it, showing the "dates" of Myles and Kade. Everyone looked at Kade for a response. "I need to make a call real quick." Kade said as he dashed to his room and closed the door. He frantically dialed Myles' number, hoping it would answer.

M-Myles

K-Kade

P-Priscilla

(I absolutely suck at writing phone call dialog, so it'll be like this until then)

M: Yeah? K: Have you read the newspaper? M: No, why? None of us even really read that stuff. Only Madeline does. K: Remember how we would go to the diner and fake being a couple for their discounts. M: Dear god. What is on the paper? K: There's been a rumor going around that we actually are and my family knows. M: Let me guess, Cody's been giving you the stink eye ever since K: I didn't know people would think we're dating! And with Cody, it's not that bad. M: Dude, you bullied your younger brother for crushing on Priscilla, the daughter of a criminal. And he thinks you're dating me, an actual criminal. M: Of course he's going to be mad at you. P: He has a crush on me? M: Uhh P: Does he? K: Who are you talking to? M: *whisper* Priscilla heard me, Kade. She knows about the crush K: Why does that matter? M: *whisper* She likes him back! K: OH! Uh, gotta go train!

Myles looked at the hung up phone in annoyance. 'That explains why people kept looking at me weirdly,' He thought and turned to look back at Priscilla. She was giving puppy dog eyes. Now, most of the time, this wouldn't work on him. However, the feelings are mutual. He couldn't lie about and break Priscilla's heart. Myles sighed, wanting to to avoid the question. Luckily, his twin opened the door. "Hey there's a carnival going on tonight," Evans said, "Do you want to go there Priscilla?" "Myles, can you call Kade and tell Cody I'm going?" Priscilla asked. Myles sighed, "Yeah, I will." 'Just need to make sure that idiot didn't do anything stupid,' He thought.

-Back at the Fire House-

Cody was continuing to give Kade glares. Kade, obviously, ignored it. The bots wanted to know why, mainly Heatwave. Blades went to ask Dani, she always knows. "Hey Dani, what's with Cody?" Blades asked. "And what did Kade do?" Heatwave asked, giving Kade a harsh side eye and ready to spray him with water. Dani whispered to Blades and he was shocked and audibly gasped. "What is it?" Boulder asked. "You're dating Myles?!" Blades shouted. "N-No, the press just makes it seem like it," Kade tried to explain. "Kade, why would you associate with a criminal that we have arrested multiple times?" Chase asked. "Would you believe me I told you?" Kade asked. Everyone gained interest.

"Look, a few weeks ago, there was a couples discount at the local diner," "I didn't have enough money for the normal amount and Myles was near by so I asked him for us to pose as a couple so I could get the discount." "He agreed, so we ordered and sat away from everyone else." "We did this multiple times when the had the discount was in place and I guess people though we were dating because how close we tend to get at times..." "We got really close some nights..."

After hearing Kade's explanation, everyone had various reactions to this. "So people think you two are dating because you wanted a discount?" Graham asked. "Yup, and it worked." Kade said proudly, "I guess we got too convincing." "Why am I not surprised," Dani said, "I should've expected that you'd be the type to do it."

"So why is Cody so upset about it?" Boulder asked. "You mind if I tell them?" Dani asked. "No," Cody responded. "Alright, Cody likes Priscilla and he's upset about it." Dani said. "Wait, you do?" Blades asked. Cody nodded. "Myles did chew me out about it over the phone considering Priscilla likes you b-" Kade covered his mouth before he could finish the sentence but it was already to late. "She likes me?" Cody asked. Kade sighed, "Yeah, he did tell me because Priscilla over heard everything and he may have told her about your crush." There was a tinge of pink growing on Cody's face.

Part 2 will be coming soon

[bylightofdawn]

So I'm editing chapter 31 tonight, I'm kinda trying to pre-edit them before my grammarly paid subscription runs out mid April. And I gotta say this scene with Plo Koon is filling my heart with joy.

I just want to hug and squish him. So I'm gonna post a snippet, because why not?

This takes place right after the latest posted chapter where they find out Myles has been kidnapped by Death Watch.

Tyvokka tugged the younger Jedi by the arm a little more distance away so that they could have some privacy. Jaster seemed too involved with what was going on to pay them too much mind.

«He is right. You are too emotionally invested in this situation and making a rash decision. It is unlike you.»

Plo Koon's brow ridges creased even further in a frown.

"They kidnapped someone, Master. Even if Jaster and I had no emotional connection, I would feel obligated to help. Our duty is to protect and assist in times of crisis." The younger Jedi countered.

«He is not a member of the Republic; that is where our duty lies. » Tyokka pointed out with merciless logic. «I understand why you feel compelled to help, my young Padawan, but you must be mindful of your feelings and how they could cloud your judgment.»

The Kel Dor let out a frustrated sigh, which was only further magnified by the antiox mask. "Myles is a good man and doesn't deserve to be tortured or worse at the hands of Death Watch." He stated firmly in his resolve.

"Master, even if he is not a member of the Republic, he is still in danger and has been kidnapped. I will assist them because it is the right thing to do. You taught me to always do the right thing. If you think that means I am compromised because of my relationship with Jaster, then I fear you have lost sight of what our mission is supposed to be. Treaty lines shouldn't dictate who we help."

Tyvokka was surprised and taken aback by the passionate way his former student spoke to him. Worse, he felt shamed because Plo was right, and he instantly regretted his own shortsightedness.

His concern that Plo might be over-invested had clouded his own judgment, but Tyvokka was willing to admit when he was wrong, and he reached out and caught his former student's shoulders in his great hair paws.

«You are right, and I am ashamed to admit I overreacted. It's not every day that the Padawan teaches the Master, but I am proud of the Jedi you have become and, more importantly, the man you have become for being willing to stand by your principles so firmly.»

The mottled color marking Plo Koon's skin darkened to a deeper color in the Kel Dor version of a blush. "Master, you flatter me too much."

«Nonsense, I flatter you the proper amount. Now, go inform your Mandalorian he will have two more people to assist in this crisis while I call the Temple and apprise them of the situation.»

"Master Yoda won't like it."

«I've known Master Yoda for centuries and am less impressed with his rank than you are. I will deal with him.» The Wookie shoved Plo in the direction of Jaster less than gently and wandered back toward the office so that he could make his call in peace.

Jaster looked over at Plo with a strained expression. He hadn't heard their conversation but had read enough of their body language to know they had been arguing.

"I'm assuming Tyvokka tried to talk you out of volunteering for this nerf rodeo?"

"He did, but I pointed out a Jedi's duty is to protect and help in times of crisis."

Somehow, Jaster looked even more pained over that reveal. "Plo… I'm not sure I want you involved in this. The blowback could be bad. I am not going to let Tor Vizsla get away with this. This could reflect poorly on the Jedi Order, and I don't want your position as a Jedi to be endangered in any way."

"We don't do the right thing because it is easy. Sometimes, it is hard and requires sacrifice, but I will stay true to my path just as you would. Even if we were not involved, I would help out because it is the right thing to do and because I will stand by while an innocent man is harmed just because it might be inconvenient. I have faith that the other members of the Jedi Order will see that."

Something complicated and inscrutable flashed across Jaster's face before he leaned up to press their foreheads together in a brief kov'nyn . "I love you so much. And thank you for being the person that you are."

[mayxthexforce]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

respond to the prompts out of character!

what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have? Hard to say. I gravitate towards obscure and tertiary characters because of the freedom that gives me to develop them beyond what we were given, but I also have some characters who have A LOT of lore (Obi-Wan, Luke, Leia, Han) because of how much information there is to pick from. I guess something else that most of my muses have in common is that they are, to different degrees, confident and passionate about whatever goals they have, no matter how different those goals might be or how different their alignments are. They might not be too sure about who they are as individuals, but they know where they stand, they know the role they play, and they're either embracing it or actively rejecting it.

is there anything you don’t like to write? There's a few. A big one is smut for the sake of smut and violence for the sake of violence, for both I need a certain amount of plotting and some kind of chemistry between the muses + understanding with the other mun of how things might go. Cheating plots are a huge no, I don't want my muses to cheat nor to get cheated on. Obviously incest, non-con, anything involving bathroom stuff in the bedroom. Also I don't enjoy writing one liners-single paragraph replies, the shortest I can give is 2 paragraphs without counting dialogue lines and even that is super rare.

is there anything you really enjoy writing? I love fleshing out dynamics that didn't exist in canon (e.g: Han and Dryden, Maulkiller and Maul, Myles and Din, Koska and Paz, Roan and Anakin, Nuru and Thrawn) or didn't get explored as much as they could have because they were more background dynamics (e.g: Quinlan and Agen, Sabé and Anakin, Garen and Obi-Wan, Medrit and Boba, Bossk and Jango, Elodore and Dooku). I also love writing the scenes in between, the things we didn't get to see but that could have led to how things went.

how do you come up with headcanons? I look at a character and focus on the gaps in the story. Be it a blank in the plot like what Sabé's family life was like for her to so quickly and happily leave them behind and never look back, or something small like what about hoi-broth makes Obi-Wan have such dire allergic reactions (it's the oxidized spices).

do you write in silence or do you play music? either with instrumental/repetitive music or with some random YouTube video (analog horror and AITA compilations are very useful for this lately) in the background. A personal favorite for writing or Under Giant Trees by Agnes Obel.

do you plan your replies or wing them? I plot them a bit. First, I figure out what my character would do and say in response to what my partner's reply said, if it's a longer reply I even do bullet points, and then I actually put it into words.

do you enjoy shipping? I love shipping. Romantic, platonic, familial. It's all awesome!

what’s your alias/name? Mica.

age?  23.

birthday? October 29th.

favorite color?  Green, red, purple.

favorite song?  Zombie by The Cranberries.

last movie you watched?  Diary of the Dead by George A Romero.

last show you watched?  The Simpsons.

last song you listened to? Ainsi Bas La Vida by Indila.

favorite food?  Rice and tuna with butter and cheese.

favorite season?  Spring.

do you have a tumblr best friend? I have a few. Tanya (corruptedforce), Vani (galaccias) and Luna (foundjarin) have been here since my humble beginnings. Break (mutatiio) is a more recent addition but I'm just as attached. Cato (monstarousmythos) isn't in this fandom but has put up with me through it and through so many other fandoms, and then there's Liz (nieithryn) and Viktor (@virulentmastermind) who I've been talking to a lot lately and really enjoy our conversations. Special mention to Dylan, who -while most of our interactions happen on discord- first interacted with me through Tumblr and I wouldn't be this deep into Star Wars roleplay if it wasn't for them being the first nice experience I had in this RPC.

TAGGED BY: Stolen from @nieithryn.

TAGGING: @galaccias, @corruptedforce, @d4gangera, @monstarousmythos, @mutatiio, @k4ssa, @tacticalvalor, @foundjarin.

[tarlos-spain]

I'm so excited to start posting this work. I have to say that if it exists is thanks to @fandomtrumpshate and it's thanks to @trickzill-art that decided to ask me for an original work.

So here it is.

Summary: Santi has had the luck of writing a best seller, but now, a year later, seems like he can't come up with anything else. Not until he met Joseph, a young barista with big dreams for the future. Thanks to him, Santi finds new motivation, just like Joseph is reminded of what is really worth fighting for.

Chapter 01

Santiago took the book from the shelf. "The Beat of a Rebel Heart" was the title his publisher had recommended for his first novel. It had seemed stupid, he had tried to come up with his own ideas but none of them had convinced the publisher.

"You've decided to launch yourself on the market under a pseudonym, I think it's perfect." Oliver, his publisher, had told him when they were talking about the promotion of the first novel. "But that also takes away your visibility. You'll never be Santiago Carreras, the young promise of gay young adult novels. If all goes well, your book will have a movie on Netflix or Hulu, but no one will link it to anyone but Berta Carros. Are you sure by the way with that name?"

"It was my grandmother's name, she got me started writing, she read my first stories and told me I had talent, while my father told me I wouldn't get anywhere with words. I owe it all to her."

"Ok, Berta Carros it is, then...I still think we could find something more commercial like Vanesa de la Fuente or something like that."

"It doesn't impress me that you call my book whatever you want." Santiago told him. "But my pen name won't be touched."

The book had been a success. Sales were higher than other books of the same style or so Oliver had told him, after all Santiago didn't care about those kind of numbers; his passion was writing, he had his first book for sale and by the looks of it a huge part of the potential audience for stories about gay teens liked it.

Soon half the bookstores in the city had copies of his book and New York was full of bookstores everywhere. Amazon picked up on the success and sales of the digital version began to climb and not just in English. His book was selling in Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, French and German.

Within months, the name Berta Carros had fan pages on Facebook, Tumblr and one day, Sandra, his best friend, sent him some links to some well-known sites where people were writing fanfiction. They had started writing things with his characters, Robert and Myles.

He put the book back on the shelf, although he moved it to the right place. Someone had put it in the romance section, along with Wild Love at the Ranch and The Executive and the Carpenter.

No one remembered his book anymore, it had been an incredible few months, but it was over as quickly as it had come. A year later, Berta Carros was only remembered by the few remaining fans of his book, those who were waiting for a sequel that Santiago knew would never come and those who wondered when Berta Carros would release his second book for sale.

Oliver, his publisher wondered that too, almost every day now and that day when he heard and noticed the vibration of his phone in his pocket, he realized it was no different.

"O. Talbot" was written on the screen of his phone. He stepped out of the bookstore, took a sharp breath and answered the call.

"Santiago, my boy, how's it going?"

"Oliver you called me yesterday, I assure you my life hasn't changed at all."

"Hmmm, I'm not going to say I like hearing that, but tell me you're still writing."

"I'm still writing, yes, but I can't confirm to you that I have Berta's next book in hand."

"Do you know when that will be?"

"Oliver, you ask me that same question every day and you know what the answer is.”

"Yeah, yeah. You don't function well under pressure, but Santiago, a year ago you decided to enter the world of literature and as romantic as writers' lives may have seemed in the past, we all have a deadline now, I as an editor have a minimum number of books to submit to those at the top and for that, you writers have to submit your manscripts to me. It's a chain that has to work perfectly."

"I know and I'm sorry. I'm trying to come up with the perfect story. I don't want to write something mediocre or...."

"Santiago, boy." He hated it when Oliver or anyone else called him that, with that tone of superiority. "We're talking about books that sell to teenagers and adult women who..."

"Oliver. I wrote my first book to tell my own story of that teenage boy who does coming out, who stands up to his parents, who shows them who he really is, and who falls in love."

"Yeah, yeah, it was a very nice and sentimental book, I won't deny it." Oliver said and then there was silence. Santiago figured he was looking for the best words not to bother him anymore and not gamble that he would go to another publisher with his new book, when he had it written. "What I wanted to say is that I'm not asking you to write the new Divine Comedy, it doesn't even have to be a book as special as your first novel. I just need Berta Carros to have a new book on the market for the Christmas campaign, do you think that would be possible?"

"Well, it's nine months."

"Exactly it's like a pregnancy, it's going to be our baby, Santiago, boy."

Santiago felt like cutting the call short when he heard that. Oliver Talbot wasn't his favorite person in the world, but he was the one who had put his trust in him with his first book. He owed him that much.

"I guess I can make an effort and get something out."

"Would you have a general idea for the day after tomorrow?"

"The day after tomorrow?" Santiago asked, stopped in the middle of the street and stared at nothing. "Well, I guess I can get a couple of days out and we can discuss them."

"Great! That was precisely what I wanted to hear. Talk to you in two days."

Oliver cut the call short almost before Santiago could say goodbye.

After the call he needed a coffee, a large one just the way he liked it, with cream, cinnamon, lots of vanilla and chocolate chips. He was not far from his favorite coffee shop, the place where he had found much of the inspiration to write his first novel.

He was sure that there he could find what he needed to get his second book off the ground.

But first he needed a coffee.

It was almost noon when he entered. In the mornings and especially on weekends, the Finca del café was a busy place because of the number of cyclists, teams, families and friends who passed by for breakfast. But at noon like now, the café was usually emptier and quieter, the perfect place to sit with his computer next to the coffee he so desperately needed.

He didn't have to look at the coffee list, he didn't need to in order to make his exact request. He walked up to the counter, he knew all the baristas that worked there. Connor usually took note of what he wanted and often didn't even ask him what he wanted because he already knew them.

"What can I get you?" said an unfamiliar voice that made him look up.

A pair of green eyes, a luminous smile and slightly tousled light brown hair completed him over a tag with Joseph's name buttoned to the shirt.

The barista was new, or at least, he had never seen him before. He would certainly remember him, because he was the most handsome man Santiago had seen in a long time.

"Chocolate mocha, not too hot."

"To go?"

"No, I'll take it here, I usually spend a lot of mornings here, working."

"Oh," Joseph picked up one of the cups and a marker, with an even wider smile on his lips. "That sounds like you're a big shot. Writer looking for inspiration for his next book? Have you written anything I might have read?"

"I had a book out last year. It had some success, but I don't think you know it. Plus I wrote it under a pseudonym."

"I read a little bit of everything. Come on, test me, maybe I’m making your coffee and I’m a fan of yours, even if I don’t know it."

Santiago reacted with a nervous chuckle at the barita's charming laugh.

"I don't think so, but okay. "The beat of a rebellious heart."

Joseph was filling the coffee cup with the milk and then the foam, but stopped short and looked up to Santiago and stared at him like someone looking at an impossible apparition of a ghost.

"You're not serious." Joseph sentenced. "You haven't written that book, because "The Beat of a Rebel Heart" is written by a woman, Berta Carros and I can't wait for her to write her next book."

"That's a long way off because Berta doesn't even have an idea for her next novel."

Joseph opened his mouth, but closed it and gasped again like a fish sticking its head out of the water. He stood there, staring at Santiago as his boss tried to get his attention from the other end of the bar.

"Wait, you are serious. You wrote 'The Beat of a Rebel Heart'. You're Berta Carros."

Santiago put a finger to his lips. He hated having used that name, hated having had that stupid idea to create the pseudonym for himself. At first he hadn't been proud to write a novel for teenagers, no matter how much it was a story of two boys falling in love and then it had caught the critics' attention because of the realism Berta had demonstrated. By then, Berta Carros had made a name for herself with her first book and Oliver Talbot had thought it a good idea to keep her there and use the same pseudonym on subsequent books.

Joseph set the cup of coffee in front of him, one twice as big as he had ordered and as he was about to say something to the barista, the barista put a finger to his lips smiling.

"I've already told you that you're my favorite author. It's a gift."

Santiago accepted it as Joseph went to make the next coffee, retired to his usual table, put down his coffee, pulled out his computer and headphones, put his cell phone on charge and took a seat.

He stood there for a moment watching the barista work, talking to his colleagues, laughing, being charming to the customers and not noticing that there were two girls in line waiting to be served by him, amidst the silly giggles at how much they liked the barista.

He opened the computer and looked at the blank page of the blank document he had not yet started working on. He took a deep breath, he had been having small panic attacks for days at the thought of trying to write something for his new story.

And suddenly, the image of Joseph about ten years younger appeared in front of him, as if from a movie. Teenage Joseph, full of dreams, wanting to be... Joseph wanted to help everyone, in high school wanting to make everyone around him happy. That Joseph wanted to be a doctor... no, a veterinarian.

Little by little his new protagonist began to take the shape of the green-eyed barista with the perfect, radiant smile in front of him.

"A latte and a chai tea, please." Said a woman in a suit to Joseph as she gestured towards the table where her partner was seated.

"Good morning Susan, are you setting up a meeting with the folks in New York?"

The woman gave him an uncomfortable look because the barista was talking to her beyond too hot or not hot enough that she wanted coffee. She nodded nervously and paid to walk away to the end of the bar where her order was to be delivered.

"Why do you keep trying?" Amara leaned on the counter next to Joseph and rubbed his back. "People don't want to talk about their private lives with you. You're not their friend and they don't expect your advice over coffee, unless it’s about the perfect cookies to take away."

"But it's so cold, Mar. When I imagined myself working here behind the bar, I imagined I knew the people, many would be the same every day at the same time and that would gradually give us some familiarity."

"You've seen a lot of movies, haven't you?"

"It's not that. It's my dream, that's the kind of coffee shop I want to work in, the one I want to have."

Amara laughed and patted him on the back a couple of times. "So now you want to have your own coffee shop, and where are you supposed to get the money for that?"

Joseph sighed and went on with his work, there were already several glasses and cups to clean on the pike and tables to tidy up.

Most people didn't understand how he could really like that job. Everyone thought that if someone started working as a barista it was because they were waiting for their life's work, because they were studying, because they came from another city, and if it was someone young enough it was because they had left home or it was their first job.

But none of those possibilities fit Joseph.

Joseph was happy there. He was happy getting up early to open and serve the first coffees as winter dawned, discovering the new items that were invited from the central office for each season and was extremely happy drinking pumpkin spice at Halloween until the Christmas coffees arrived.

He loves coffee, and had managed to squeeze a couple of his own recipes into the cookie section.

Of course his friend was right about one thing. Money was a problem, both to study something related to the world of coffee and to open his own place someday.

But he had time and was saving. Everything he earned working there was going to two places, the rent for the apartment he shared with the fireman in 252 who he barely saw because they had crossed shifts and for that dream he slept with every night, getting into hotel school to learn everything he needed to learn to one day open his own café and have everyone fall in love with the world he saw.

A grunt from the writer's table caught his attention. He saw him sigh and close the computer then turn back to the window.

There was no one waiting to order anything at the counter so Joseph decided to take his morning break. He made his coffee as no one else knew how to do, because no one else understood the amounts of milk, lactose free because he was intolerant, sugar, brown, because it was healthier, cinnamon, you always needed some and cream... any decent coffee should have some in it and walked over to the table.

"Upset?" he asked and Santiago turned to him. "I'm not going to ask for your autograph, relax, but I am looking forward to the release of your second book and I'm dying of curiosity to know if it will be a continuation of "heartbeat" or something new."

Santiago laughed nervously, picked up his now empty coffee cup and wrinkled his nose as he realized it was.

"Shall I make you another?"

"You don't want to see me on a caffeine high and that certainly won't be how I start writing anything. No thanks. As for the new book, I'd like to know what it's going to be, too, although the one who's most curious is my publisher, who's about to fire me if I don't get the first draft to him in a few days."

"Wow, sorry to hear that and sorry then that I'm bothering you at the moment of inspiration."

Santiago let out that nervous laugh again, which this time made Joseph smile because he thought it was charming. He opened the computer again and turned it over.

Prologue

My name is Josh, although here at the hospital I am known as Josh "Dr. White's son." My father is the head of the emergency room at New York Presbyterian Hospital and a dozen doctors and twenty-odd nurses work for him.

They all know me, some of them literally were present at my birth and my father says that the most senior nurse in the hospital was the one who helped me cry for the first time.

As "Dr. White's son" I am free to move around wherever I want, except for the operating rooms, although the truth is that I am not too interested in seeing how they open people up, manipulate their organs and fill everything with blood.

But in the rest of the hospital I can go from one place to another without anyone looking at me funny. They all greet me, ask me about my father when they haven't seen him for a few days and ask me, as usual, if I'm going to follow in Dr. White's footsteps and study medicine.

However, today no one approaches me. Maybe it's because it makes them uncomfortable to see me crying inconsolably and they don't know what to say to me, maybe it's because my clothes are a mess, literally scorched, with a couple of holes from pulling and my hair as if I had fought with a herd of angry cats or maybe it's because they don't like the presence of my companion, Jaime, a wonderful Mexican boy who has gotten me into the best trouble these past few months.

Until recently I wouldn't have realized that there are people who look at you because of the color of your skin, the way you talk or any stupid detail that makes you look like one thing or another. But these last few months have opened my eyes, made me realize that the world I was living in was nothing more than a fantasy.

And you know what is the most ironic thing of all, tomorrow is my birthday, tomorrow I turn eighteen. just a year ago, I had the perfect life, the perfect dream, the perfect idea of the future, not to mention the perfect boyfriend, the perfect father and the perfect house.

If you ask me right now what I mean by perfect, my answer is to see my father walk out of the emergency room with a calm expression and hear him say that the heart of the love of my life has started beating again.

"It's horrible isn't it?" Santiago asked and finally breathed again when Joseph looked up from the computer. "I think I'm going to delete it and start over. I don't think..."

"I hope you don't mean that. You just wrote this?" Santiago's eyes widened in shock at the question. "I mean... I don't think it's little, well yes, it's very little and I love it, I want to know what happened to Josh."

A small smile added to the blush on Santiago's cheeks.

"It's the first thing that came to my mind, which is already saying a lot because I had been in the dry dock of inspiration for almost five months. what is it about this place? Because if it has any secrets, I'll come write here every day."

Joseph shrugged, looked back towards the counter, he didn't want any customers to be left waiting, certainly his manager wouldn’t like that either. But for the moment, Amara seemed to have it under control and motioned for him to take his time.

"You're the first writer I've seen here writing, so I don't know what inspired you. But I do know that many of the customers who come through here have told me that the coffee I make is the best they've ever had."

"I agree with them on that." Santiago looked back at the empty cup. "And for that coffee you make I'd like to come back here every morning."

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, until a group of teenagers entered the coffee shop. They were on their way to class and were talking loud enough to disrupt the peace and quiet of the place.

Santiago looked at the time. He had decided to take the morning off to find that idea he needed so badly. Now he had it, it was just a written page, but suddenly his brain was overflowing with ideas that he had to put down on paper.

He stood up with force, so much that he almost knocked the chair to the floor.

"I have to go."

Joseph watched him dart out of the cafeteria, computer under his arm and open backpack full of papers, two or three notebooks and a few other things he hadn't gotten to see. He still couldn't believe he had met the author of his favorite book. When he had woken up that morning he had not imagined that Berta Carros was a man, someone so handsome, nice, attractive and that he would not be able to get him out of his mind.

[ghostsbrokenbyfairytales]

"oh you mean how you kept me out of your bullshit with teddy? why the fuck should i leave her out of this when i can stoop to your level toni." kirby moved back into his face not caring anymore and not caring how loud they were being either. "you know what's so great about that? we're not dating nor will we ever so it doesn't matter what you would've done. teddy and i actually talked about that, ya know, something that adults can do unlike you trying to act like a tough guy all because i didn't fucking know myles' name. god go fuck yourself. your fuck buddy or whoever the fuck she is to you deserves someone who's not a conniving little bitch like you. does me saying shit about her hurt your wittle feelings? look in the fucking mirror then because this is exactly what you did to teddy while he felt his lowest. as for the apology take it and shove it up your ass, i don't need it or want it."

"Good for you two, took you long enough" he rolled his eyes, before he glared at them "fuck you...." he said simply. "You can say all you want about me, but you keep her the fuck out of this." He knew it was hypocritical but that's why he knew he had to apologize to Kirby and Teddy. He knew how that felt now. But the more they talked the less he meant his apology. "It takes one to know one Kirby. The more I talk to you the more I'm realizing I might be right about what I said to Teddy...." he narrowed his eyes at him. "I saw what he went through at the Ren Faire, seeing you with Dr.knightley, the Anxiety attack after seeing you, Z comforting him under the tree. You're lucky he's even dating you after the shit you put him through...I know I wouldn't have" he said simply.

[mcmusing]

With shameless frequency, I talk a lot about how the woke and their over-the-top PC agenda are causing society's rapid deterioration. This time, I'm here to criticize the hypocritical 'marginalized' groups to which they cater.

At the news/controversy of a black Batwoman, a black female Bond, and all those other chicks who black-wash redheaded characters, these twats want to act as if we're living in an unprecedented time in film and television history. We are, but not for this melanin infusion that's been around and gradually increased for roughly the last century. No, we're living in an age of self-inflicted amnesia used entirely to keep hatred and race wars alive and thriving. Just because black audience members and their white guilt loaded allies flip out whenever one of these characters is reasonably despised by legit members of fandoms does not mean they're not full of crap. The majority of them don't actually care about seeing black characters on screen. How do I know this?

Try stopping by Lipstick Alley or any other message board for retro media.  They all look back on one 90s series with utter contempt for the title lead. A title lead who personified the strong character concept, who happens to be black and female. Don't bother searching your empty heads to figure it out. Here's a clue:

Moesha shares a lot of similarities with the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Both 90s series were set in LA with a black cast, prosperous families with college-educated parents, and focused on leads with vocal skills who would go on to become amazing actors despite starting off so poorly in their craft. Will Smith and Brandy Norwood, respectively. Even though Will's character regressed into a directionless comedic caricature, he's still remembered with fond iconic respect. Brandy's character? Moe to the, Woe to the.....

The show centered around HS girl, Moesha Mitchell. Her family included her father Frank, grade school aged brother Myles, and their stepmother Dee. Also, her childhood friend and neighbor, Hakeem usually joined them around the meal table. The family did not have the Banks' level of wealth but they still maintained a comfortable upper middle-class lifestyle and a nice house. We eventually saw Dee get promoted to vice-principal of the high scho and Frank open up his own car dealership. Moesha initially did NOT appreciate her father marrying someone who worked at her school. Dee's presence also bothered her because Moesha was close to her deceased mother and felt Dee was stealing her role as lady-of-the-house. As not only her birth parents' only daughter but eldest child, it's understandable why she would be put off by such a change. It took time, but Dee and Moesha developed a loving mother/daughter bond.

As bold an assertion as it is, Moesha was undoubtedly one of the deepest and best teenagers portrayed in television history. The later seasons of the show had maaany issues but none diminished the lead herself. During the 80s and 90s especially, most TV teens all fell into very black and white characterization. The good kids constantly practiced the best morals, would be considered nerds no matter how gorgeous the actors, and likely be some kind of environmentalist or take on some other lame cause. The bad kids got into outrageous trouble, almost never grew up, enjoyed all of the popularity, and typically did horribly in school to the point of wondering how they managed to dress themselves in the morning.

No box could possibly contain all of Moesha's many layers. Yes, she was an honor student and aspiring writer, but she was not defined by these details. While she did have a solid moral code, she got into plenty of trouble believable for a teenager. She was strong, intelligent, ambitious, caring, helpful, and incredibly independent. At the same time, she could also be overly brazen, short-sighted, stubborn, nosy, and too outspoken. All of these combined to create her unique awesomeness. Unfortunately, too many fans choose to only remember her negative qualities.

While better behaved and saner than her friends most of the time, Moesha developed the reputation for 'drama'. This typically manifested from her complicated relationship with her father. Like his daughter, Frank was a driven eldest child. His version came packed with testosterone to boot. He was very conservative and held traditional American values in regards to education, business, and home life. Frank adored his daughter, but they bumped heads so often due to their many similarities. Their strong wills and natural leadership capabilities in particular. Frank expected his rules to be followed to the letter while Moesha's independence caused her to work around this and hide things.

Honestly, she never wanted anything too bold or dangerous. She dated boys she wasn't allowed to, but all they did was kiss and go out together. Admittedly, she had one guy over while her parents were out for the evening and they got caught in her bedroom (he invited himself up there while she was looking for CDs). However, there's no guarantee she would have gone all the way with him. She never slept around during high school.

Probably the worst thing she ever did was road trip to Mexico without her parents' OK. Even so, she was in a big friend group and they all looked out for each other. Moesha even took the car keys away from their driver friend who wanted to drink. She lost them while dancing with a handsome native, but she called home for help and got the idea for Triple A. This kept her and her friends out of trouble. Her dance partner unintentionally got them busted when he innocently called her house to return the keys but still, she handled the situation fairly well all things considered.

Unlike Will, who typically depended on his uncle, Moesha usually tried to fix her own problems. When she grew tired of her father's frugality, she took on part-time jobs. More than once, the accomplishing thrill of making her own money caused her to neglect other areas of her life. This is the big difference between lazy and productive young people. Earning money is so satisfying for the latter that it's easy to get too caught up in it. Something certain adults never outgrow.

On one of these instances, Moesha believed a promotion at work qualified her as an adult. Dee convinced Frank to let her live as an adult and make her own decisions so she can see how hard it really is. During this little strategy, Moesha voluntarily wrote her parents a check for her share of the household expenses. This caused Frank to declare her a better adult than himself, just not to her face. This only stopped because Moesha started to miss her once-in-a-lifetime teen experiences. Also, her promotion did not increase her salary enough to justify taking on so many extra hours.

Moesha's biggest fault had to be her tendency to get overly involved in other people's private business. She did not do this simply for curiosity and a chance to gossip. Identifying a problem and instantly coming up with a solution was a large part of her nature. Due to being so young, she could easily act without thinking a situation all the way through. A good example is when she invited Hakeem's absentee father to his birthday party. Hakeem, having not seen the man in years, did not react to this favorably. Worse, his father never showed. Moesha felt terrible, though she had the very best intentions. She could only imagine the idealistic heartfelt reunion between father and son, not the potential tension and hostility that could have resulted instead. Since Moesha comes from such a solid family unit, it was likely hard for her to relate to the many fatherless black children out there. Frank actually helps rectify the sad situation by spending more one on one time with Hakeem.

Out of all of their conflicts, the worst occurred during the summer between Moesha's junior and senior years. Without giving her parents all of the information, she attended a coed sleepover with her friends. When Frank found out, he stormed over to her friend's house to get her, terrifying every youngster in sight. Once home, Moesha tries to defend herself by insisting she was not going to have sex with any of those boys. Frank is all too fed up, however due to catching that boy in her bedroom, that road trip to Mexico, and Moesha getting a tattoo on her stomach. His daughter thinks he's overreacting because she's not even a third as bad as other kids her age. Their argument gets so heated, Moesha stormed out of the house in her night clothes. Unable to see eye to eye with her father, she wound up spending the entire summer with a family friend.

This issue really illustrated how headstrong Frank and Moesha both were. If not for intervention by Myles, who desperately wanted the family back together, it's hard to say how long the estrangement would have lasted. The show did a nice job of not demonizing either of them. It's understandable how Frank would see her misbehavior as her spiraling out of control. It's also reasonable that Moesha would feel too unheard and dismissed by him to live under the same roof anymore.

Shortly after they reconciled, the family discovered Myles had been using marijuana as a coping mechanism. This isn't neatly wrapped up like an after school special, either. The Mitchells wound up attending therapy, where they finally unleashed their grievances from the last year or so. One would think having his sister home would be enough for Myles. That's not as great as it sounds if he's constantly worried one more fight will make her leave forever.

While a good family with a two-parent household, the Mitchells were anything but perfect. That's okay because most families are not. Growing pains, defiance, asserting independence, and arguing with parents are all part of the adolescent experience. All of these things fleshed Moesha out in ways rarely ever seen on TV.

Another crucial way she stood out is how the show and Brandy's portrayal did not reduce her to a cliche sassy/angry black chick. Yes, they addressed racism once in a while, but the concepts of victimhood and underlying hatred towards white people did not exist in the Mitchell home. While Moesha could get angry and downright threatening at times, she preferred talking through conflicts until someone pushed her too far. Her retorts came out as clever and unyielding as opposed to resembling dialogue from those abominable Friday movies. A nice girl but nobody's pushover.

What's really ludicrous is that while so much hate is hurled Moesha's way, the show's spin-off, the Parkers, is often praised. The Parkers was a show starring Moesha's HS best friend Kim and her mom Nikki going to college together. What started as an insightful mother/daughter show that preceded Gilmore Girls, devolved to the lowest common denominator. Kim went from funny and not too book-smart to being a cartoonish idiot to the point of wondering if the actress suffered annual brain damage between seasons. Nikki quit being the fun, loving but tough maternal force and warped into a deranged stalker completely obsessed with her attractive but entirely uninterested and repulsed professor.

While Will from Fresh Prince did not fall as wretchedly downhill as the Parkers, are they really what black audiences consider quality entertainment? Either low-brow comedy or angry, racism-driven drama? To this day, past minstrel shows are still reviled. I don't see why. They seem to be what the people want.

Don't kill yourself.

Do demand justice for Moesha Denise Mitchell 💛

[stevethehairington]

overshare time!

tag 10 people you wanna know better!

thank you @stevesbipanic for the tag!! 💕

relationship status: haha single.

favorite color(s): purple! also teal and peach which are the color scheme of my room and have been since college lol

favorite food: suuuuushiiiiii mm mmm. i could eat sushi all dayyy

song stuck in my head: it's been bouncing back and forth between animals by nickelback LOL, rag doll by aerosmith, and black velvet by alannah myles ifor like the past week straight

last thing you googled: max greenfield LMAO

time: 5:41 pm

dream trip: i have been DYING to go to italy my whole life. or greece. or i would KILL to go to prague just so i can see the bone church

last book you read: the last book i read was misery by stephen king

last book you enjoyed reading: i did enjoy misery! it was very entertaining and classic sk lol which is always fun

last book you hated reading: ooh last book i hated reading hm. well haha. oh man i have some friends who are going to haaaate me for saying this but. probably piranesi by susanna clarke. i wouldn't say i hated it, but it just. kind of bored me. and i wanted so badly to like it because the whole concept behind the book is so cool! and some of the imagery in it really is gorgeous, but i just couldn't get into it for some reason :/

favorite to cook/bake: i actually love making homemade bagels, it's so fun and they taste even better than store bought (duh lol) and bagels are my favorite things so.

favorite craft to do in your free time: i suppose writing would fit here haha. but yeah i do a lot of writing in my free time if my inspiration and motivation will allow for it.

most niche dislike: i am SURE i have a niche dislike but i literally cannot think of anything rn that isn't like the common ones like the sound of people chewing or neighbors blasting music at 11pm at night.

opinion on circus(es): i don't really care for them one way or the other, they're just kind of things that exist that i haven't given much though to really.

do you have a sense of direction:  HAHA NO. or like. yes but not a good one haha. like i know my neighborhood pretty well and the streets around it, but ask me where the presidio is in relation to my apartment or how to get to the castro from work and im like uhhh idk? lol. i am also one of those people that can not tell you the names of what streets you take to get somewhere for the life or them but ABSOLUTELY can be like oh yeah you turn left at the giant rock! and then right at the combination kfc taco bell! which annoys my mom to no end hahaha. i also cannot tell you which way is n/s/w/e either like lol do not ask me that.

tell us about you D&D character: haha yeah so. i have only ever played dnd one (1) time rip, and i was kind of confused about the whole thing so my character is probably suuuper lame, but her name is Periwinkle, Peri for short, and she is a human rogue level 3 (we were asked to make our charactes human and level 3 for the oneshot, so that's why lol). she had a haunted past and can talk to spirits which is p cool. but uh yeah it's been a while and like i said it was for one oneshot lol so i don't really remember the backstory i gave her rip.

tagging:

@steviemunson @mostmetalmunson @pizzaqueen @aberfaeth @eddie-unbanished @stevethehairington @cherry-vamps @rippedkicks @oatflatwhite @tear-soaked-cheeksdonteverlast

[its5amandimbored]

Part six of my fowl twins memes/review/reaction Ok so I reread all the artemis fowl books and made memes on them which you can find down here (I'll be keeping the fowl twins stuff in there too, just to keep everything together)

Artemis fowl memes

I basically decided to blindly read the fowl twins and react to it and talk about while also sprinkling in some memes

Also you probably shouldn't see this until you've read the book or be prepared for spoilers. Fair warning.

Previous

Honestly true. As annoying as artemis could be and as patronizing as he could be a lot of people did end up earning his respect. Holly, foaly and even mulch he showed a certain amount of respect too, people just had to earn artemis' respect, while Myles doesn't give a fuck how smart your are how talented you are, your rank, position, experience, it seems impossible to earn any amount of respect from him, he thinks very little of literally everyone. Even artemis who is extremely intelligent he seems to look down on, don't get me wrong, myles adores both his brothers and that's very evident in the way he talks about them and thinks about them but he still thinks little of them and thinks they're both dumb and doesn't give either respect and patronizes and is very condescending to both of them, again despite artemis being a literal genius with much more experience then myles. Which is very different from artemis, I mean if artemis respected you or even cared about you he treated you much better then myles would. Even people he didn't think were on his level intelligence wise he gave respect to like butler, juliet, his parents, mulch, root, hell even his little brothers who were literal toddlers he didn't talk down to like he would a stranger or someone he doesn't like. Myles doesn't have that. It doesn't matter who you are or what you've done, he'll talk down to you and think little of you.

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The worse part is artemis probably did expect this type of behavior from myles, even if he didn't approve or thought it was wrong he knew myles would do it anyway. Imagine you go off on a giant project to learn more about the world and your little brothers who's like 14-17 years younger then you just takes your credit card. Also who's paying it back? Myles has no money of his own. He has no job and unlike artemis who at least was a part of the family business and made money out of it, myles isn't. So is artemis having to pay for whatever his little brother does, including buying expensive custom made suits, while he's in space?

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Ok this was adorable. I go soft for the cute sibling moments in this book man. They're adorable

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This is what I hate about spins offs. They depend to much on the original. Why can't the author or director or whatever just focus on making a good product thats about these characters you've seen before but a different age and in their own adventure? Why do they have to make constant references to the original. Just do your own thing. This just seems so unnatural and cringe and weird. Like did we really need that reference to the line that was said back in the first Artemis fowl book?? Like don't get me wrong that line made me laugh but it was because it made sense. Here it makes no sense. Who would say that? That line is so unnatural and awkward and clearly just the author going "hey! Hey! Remeber that line?! From the original?! Remeber the original?! Please give me money."

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This is ADORABLE!!

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So I know myles didn't actually murder his brother and lazuli. But like I'm telling you the fowls' true calling is acting cause like artemis was amazing and so is myles. Oscars to the both of them. Also love how teddy is just like "lmao look at this child killing his brother! This is gold!"

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Teddy: "wow that's useless information."

Myles:

Myles is so petty it's kind of funny

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Next

[royaletiquette]

hhemeraa​:

Seeing the other prince quelled any concerns he might have had about the evenings, mulling over contently now that things were nice and calm. Curiosity was good and having a new friend, even better. The selfish part of him didn’t want to let him run off to bed despite seeing him yawn. 

“Technically, there is nothing stopping mages from doing that - except the law. We’re not all monsters, you know,” Myles laughs and the bushes around them seem to flex with merriment. “I don’t know about most other families or how people conduct themselves in their own homes, but here on the royal grounds, it’s often frowned upon to use magic for mundane tasks that you could do yourself. People will think you’re incredibly lazy and the shame of being thought of as lazy or cutting corners is enough to keep people from needlessly using their abilities. If you’re going to perform some grand feat or something or other, usually someone will give notice so that no one thinks we’re under attack. To get around it, most go out to the forest on the outskirts of town in secret, but it’s a very open secret. It’s practically impossible to get onto royal grounds if you mean harm considering one of us will likely hear about it before they even step foot into a building.” He peers over towards Hibiya, wondering if he’s boring him. “If you’re tired, we can continue talking later, I’m not sure if I answered your question or not, but it is late and this drink is starting to turn my ears hot.” 

Chuckling at the needless defense, immediately pointing his finger at the other prince with his own retort. "That's not what I was getting at and you know it." Curiosity, truly. So morbidly curious that if allowed, he could question Myles until the sun was comfortably where the moon was in the sky now.

Hibiya daydreamed some while listening, his mind jumping around with excitement over which thought to land on and wander about. He must have looked like he was zoning out with his drifting stare, being too preoccupied dissecting they different cultures. Would it be as jarring for someone not horribly mixed up with all the politics?

A quick "hm?" when it was turned back on him, stealing an extra second just to think more clearly. "I'm always a little tired," he chuckled despite not telling a joke. "I don't think you did either, but I'll take the excuse to make my exit," Hibiya decided after a moment longer, taking his time to stand up as to not throw off his newly skewed sense of balance. "Least I keep biding my time for the enviable." Offering a hand and smile to help Myles up.

[vanchlo]

The Partner / Chapter Fourteen, "The Ten"

Word Count: 5.9k words /  Story Masterlist /  Read The Assistant /  Read on Wattpad / Warning: Sensitive and upsetting topics

I wasn't sure what had brought me here. It had felt like yesterday since I'd shut this door last, even if weeks had passed since. I'd never been able to shut it on that day and I knew that I wouldn't be able to, not fully.

"Babe! Are you ready to go? We're going to be late for the meeting," a voice calls from down below. Gulping hard, my heart stays stuck in my throat at the sight before me. It hadn't been the only one this morning that was hard to swallow.

"Coming!" The upstairs guest bedroom door closes behind me. I can't help but look at it over my shoulder, still unsure of why I had come up here. "We're not going to be late, Harry! When was it that you started to become so anal about being early?"

Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, he doesn't attempt to hide the way his eyes roll at my remark. They finally settle on me, registering my eyebrow raise I challenge him with.

"Since you take fricken forever to get ready in the mornings, and the boss needs to be early," he tuts, nodding his head towards the front door. I hadn't noticed before how he holds it open, but now, the spring sunshine is unmistakable. "Come on already. I put our stuff in the car while you were dilly dallying upstairs. What were you doing up there anyways? It took me a few times to get your attention."

We'd long ago passed the time of saying 'thank you's for holding doors open, but habit aside, I still say it. Pulling the seatbelt across my chest, I ruminate on his question as he messes with the radio beside me. I'd become a master at being able to tell when his eyes were on me, and right now was no exception, because when I glance over at him, he's doing just that. The words hesitated on my tongue because at times I still found it hard to talk to him about her. We shared her and the grief around her. There was nobody else in this world who could know how I felt about her besides him, but the struggle persisted.

Avoiding his eyes had been my go-to when I didn't want to answer him. I did it now but it didn't serve me well, because of what I find instead. It seemed that nearly every time my eyes came upon it, it was impossible to not trace the curves of ink. It had lived on the inside of my wrist for over two weeks now and I still hadn't gotten used to it. When I thought that way, I realize I was never one to get used to things. My mother's abuse. Harry's coldness towards me in the beginning, only to be changed into sporadic softness. Then we became friends and something more, and it was hard to wrap my head around. He got hurt and I almost lost him, and it was something I still couldn't believe. It was a recurring theme in my life, especially as of late.

The permanence on my skin is interrupted by the soft edges and lines of his hand. A relief is kissed onto my skin when his fingers lace with mine, his thumb paying attention to the capital letter P in his handwriting on my skin. I don't know what does it but suddenly, I'm looking at the melancholy lifting his lips.

"I don't know but I wanted to look at her things in the nur- guest bedroom. The sonograms and clothes . . to remember that she was real and ours when . . when today I feel like I need to pretend that she wasn't," the words tumble from my lips as my throat feels tight with remembering. "I miss her."

"I miss her too," Harry says with a softness saved for times like these, which seemed to be quite often lately. It speaks louder when his lips press a kiss to the top of my hand. "But we don't have to act as if she never happened, Becks."

"I want to though. Not to act like- I'm just not ready to talk about her with people at work yet. It's almost been two months and I feel like I should be ready by now."

Repeating in and out inside of my head didn't help to steady the breaths trying to swim into my lungs. What did succeed was letting myself live in the unending sage color of his eyes, wondering what the flecks of gold would feel like if I swam in them.

"That's okay too, honey. People know not to ask and I said not to. It's more so something that you bring up yourself if you want to," he murmurs, thumbing at the escapist tear that got through my guard. "Are you sure you don't want to stay home another day? I can work from home whenever I want, you know."

"I'm sure," he had barely put a period to his words and I was insisting. His nod was fast but I could read the hesitancy in it. I tried to push it out of my mind as the car began to move, my thumb occupied by the same traces of ink on the inside of his right wrist, a P in my handwriting.

It wasn't how I thought I'd be living my life today, carrying the memory of my daughter in my heart and on the inside of my wrist, instead of in my arms in a few months.

*

I had thought at once that it was a sight for sore eyes, but now I couldn't be more sure that it wasn't. Still, I wasn't certain how I felt about it now. Seeing it had brought forth a nostalgia I yearned for, wanting to go back to a time where we were so naive and unknowing of what the future held for us. It also dug up a pain that could be unfathomable, because I knew how different things were the last time I stood outside his office door, looking in. Our happiness had been unmatched and upon realizing that, I felt my throat grow dry.

He looked more handsome than ever with the short beard he'd come to keep, one that swims into view upon turning around. I'd been caught.

"Hi, bug," Harry says, a smile making the dimples dive into his cheeks. It was small but it brought a glow to his face that I'd missed. "Are you heading out?"

Nodding was all that I could do as I stepped foot in his office. Even if it wasn't the first time today it still stung. Everything I missed was what I thought of when I stood in here. It was the framed sonogram missing beside his desktop, the space behind the guest chairs where I'd showed him the pregnancy test, and on the couch where we spelled out potential names with Scrabble tiles. That was only the beginning of what stabbed at me like knives, even if things had gotten better. It had only been two weeks since we'd started to talk and I had come to feel so much better, almost like myself again. I wasn't sure if I'd admit it but he was right. I'd come back to work too soon and it had been too much. I couldn't decide when I would tell him that I had cried in the bathroom twice today because of it all. He'd wonder when that had happened since I had been at his side all day helping him start on his new case, but I'd thought about her all throughout. I hadn't known that coming back here would stir up so many thoughts about her. How could I?

"Becks?"

"Y-Yeah, soon," I belatedly answer, grateful for his bookshelf in front of me. I know that he knows the truth, but it could seem as if I was lost in reading his titles, instead of consumed by my thoughts. No, Harry was smarter than that. He knew that I had perused his bookshelf more times than fingers I had on one hand, more than one normal person would. "You're sure it's okay that I take the car?"

"Of course. I'll just catch a ride with Myles. We still have a few things to go over anyways. We're not sure if we're sold on that one guy for the new hire or not, so we have to figure out what to do."

I couldn't find it in me to make a comment. Today had taken so much more from me than I had anticipated. I knew that there would be awkward interactions and maybe the curious looks. I didn't know that the team meeting right off the bat would let everybody stare at me to their heart's content, and let me catch them in the act.

"How was today?" his voice comes, interrupting my thoughts. I had come to welcome it, knowing how it broke up my mental web of danger. He had to have known too. "Rate it."

A title catches my eye, replacing the Pain-O-Meter we'd come to adopt since it'd happened. Plucking the book off the shelf, I flip it open to find the familiar title page and a message written in black ink. I'd have a good shot at reciting it without needing it before me even as the words came to blur before my eyes.

"Pass," I mumbled, daring the tear at my nose to fall onto the paper. Brushing it away before it can, I let the words in front of me swim through my mind yet another time.

March 2024

Harry,

I couldn't count how many times I've heard you speak of this case and all that it's taught you, even inspiring you to become a lawyer, you once said. I guess maybe I should have kept it for myself seeing as how you know next to everything about it, but maybe you won't know some of this 'never before seen' stuff. I call dibs on being the first one to borrow it from you, seeing as how it's a new release. I hope that one day we can bring justice and right a wrong like seen in this landmark case. Book aside, I couldn't ever find the words to tell you how grateful I am for you and even though it hasn't been a month yet, how much I love you, Harry. If there's a God, I'll be thanking them forever for bringing me back to you and to your firm to work beside you, and to fall in love with you all over again. I can't wait to hear you talk so passionately about this case and all of the others you look up to when we have our nightly goodnight call. I'll try not to fall asleep the next time.

Love,

Your Becks xo

"Becks?" There had been a time when I'd hated that name and how he'd mistreated it. It wasn't long after that I'd missed it deeply and wished to hear it despite being scared to. "There's no passes."

"Since when? Why can't I just for one time not have to rate my pain, Harry," I almost retort, my chest heaving when I turn to face him. His face remains stoic, that is if you were anybody but the few people who could read his face right now. The shock is clear as day and brings my hands to my mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to explode on you."

"It's okay," he assures me, stepping forward. His hand on my wrist is ginger and reassuring. "What one have you got there? Ah, the good old Glensheen murder. One of my favorite cases."

There hadn't been many times anymore that I couldn't unravel the emotions hiding on his face. Except for now, he locked it up good as he thumbed at the page, nostalgia lifting his lips into his cheeks. It made the sting louder inside of me as his mouth relaxed into its former line, a wetness clinging to his eyes.

"I'd started to think about how I'd tell our kids how I became a lawyer and it always started with this case here," unlike before, a dullness lept into the curling of his lips, a smile dipped in sour memories. "I thought of it with P, telling her how Daddy became a lawyer because of Glensheen . . but I can't do that anymore. It's too hard to think about."

A hastiness filled my actions, first with my hand on his forearm. The velvet button down he'd picked for today felt like butter beneath my fingers, but it was the only easy part about this. No, the wetness spilling onto his cheeks only made it harder and so did prying the book from his hands. It wasn't any smoother looking into his eyes as mine welled with what filled his.

"I'll rate today if you will," my gentle words came, volumes different from mine that had come before.

"Eight and a half," Harry said dryly, clearing his throat afterward. I knew how he craved a glass of water to soothe the cracks in his throat. If only it could do the same to the heart.

"That's your first eight in a week and a half," I note aloud and his acknowledgement is absent. That is unless you count his eyes falling away from mine, focused on dragging his finger along the letter on my wrist as if he could do it forever.

"What's yours?" his question is quiet, but I could hear his voice in the loudest of darks. It was what had dragged me out of my lowest of lows, afterall.

"Nine . . and a half."

It was my turn to stare at my hands and avoid the gaze of the other. I could feel his as I tried to swallow past the heart shaped ball in my throat, trying to forget how quickly his head lifted.

"You haven't had a nine in weeks, bug," Harry remarks and I don't bother to nod. What would be the point? I don't want to make it any more real than it has to be. "Becks, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"When you say nine . . do you mean a ten?" his question made sense but I didn't want it to, because that would mean I'd have to come up with an answer. That wasn't something I could do.

*

Waiting was something I had done a lot of recently and what joined it was my feeling of something being amiss. I had blamed it on losing Phoebe and how it had upset my entire life, but standing here now, both rang too true. I couldn't put a finger on why I hesitated opening the door, even though I had been here just the other night. It had been Harry and I's first double date back with Asher and Skye. We had played Cards Against Humanity and sat around the old rinky dink deep fryer whilst picking our cards.

Leaving that night, my stomach was full from the pizza rolls, cheese curds, steak bites, and more that we deep fried, but that wasn't why my gut felt off. Skye had been acting weird and I couldn't put a finger on it. Sure, things had been different since losing Phoebe, but I knew it wasn't that. Tonight, I hoped it would come to light. If only I'd known now what I would later, I would have never come at all.

There was no answer when I knocked on the door, so I let myself in like usual. Our favorite chicken bacon ranch pizza Skye had promised me wafted from the oven where it cooked. After a quick glance around the open apartment, I find that I'm alone. That's odd, I think to myself, remembering running into Asher in the parking garage on my way from leaving work today. Their cars were parked out front and Skye's purse and keys are scattered across the island. Just like the old times, I muse silently as I begin to toe off my shoes until I stop.

Loud voices carry from down the hallway and immediately I recognize them as the two blondes I'm looking for. Removing my shoes is forgotten as I inch my way into the apartment, trying to listen. Normally, I'd feel guilty eavesdropping and so I don't often do it, but that went out the window when I heard my name. It sounds like they're fighting, but what about? Does it have something to do with me? Why would it? The questions bloom behind my eyes as the sound of their arguing grows when I come closer.

Stopping outside my old bedroom door, I felt more than uncomfortable, but it only grew as I waited. It had been weird at first finding out that Asher and Skye moved into my old bedroom, but knowing that it was the biggest, it made sense. Something inside of me tells me to stop and that I shouldn't be stepping into such a private moment of theirs. If it were the other way around I wouldn't want somebody to eavesdrop on me and Harry talking, and least of all a fight. But I can't stop after I hear my name for a second time.

"Skye, you have to tell Becky. You can't wait any longer."

"Don't you think I know that, Ash? I've been trying to think of how to say it, but for the life of me I can't," my best friend sighs. A whining sound follows her words, presumably after she plopped down onto the mattress. But when it comes a second time, I realize it's drawn from her lips.

"It'll be easier the sooner you tell her, babe. You know that." An unmistakable sigh whooshes from my best friend's lips on the other side of the door. "It can't wait any longer. Maybe you should tell her tonight."

"No! She just went back to work earlier this week and Harry said that she's doing better. I don't want to ruin any of that by telling her."

"She'll understand, Skye, and I know how much you want to tell her, to share this happiness with her. It was all I could do the other night to not talk about it, because I'm excited too," Asher admits with exasperation. Another sound tells me that he's joined her to sit on the bed.

"Of course I want to tell her, but how do I tell her about . . "

I hadn't known how I had gotten here. That's stupid because, of course, I did. But sitting here now, the steering wheel of Harry's car slick with my tears, I still wish I hadn't heard what I did. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't erase it from my memory, and no amount of tears could make it better. Each breath I took sent shoots of pain through my chest as it shook with fitful sobs. The engine still ran, rumbling softly even through the steering wheel my head rested on.

I had lost track of how long I'd sat here after pulling into the driveway. I knew that he would hear the garage door if I pulled in, so I was waiting. He didn't seem to hear or see the car yet, something I was grateful for. I wasn't ready yet, but would I ever be after what I just learned? Just as much as she didn't know how to tell me, I had no idea how I could tell Harry.

The laugh track of a TV show is what I hear first upon opening the door, followed by a wisecrack from Joey on FRIENDS. My heart squeezed at the sound of Harry's subsequent giggle, and knowing how I was about to take it away. I closed the door softly as I could and still knew that he would hear it. It's instantaneous how quickly the TV is turned down and how my unrelenting crying replaces the sound.

"Becks? You're home already, love?" my favorite voice murmurs from the living room before alarm is racing in it. "What happened? Is everything alright?"

I could count the seconds before I hear his rushed footsteps coming my way, and then stopping in front of me. Harry's molasses voice rushes to say my name a few more times but he succeeds in one try to pull me into his arms. Taking my spot sitting against the front door, I melt inside of his arms.

"Baby, please. What's wrong? You're scaring the shit out of me," it was hard to make out the concern in his voice amidst the spinning of my thoughts. It was there but I knew that had things been normal inside of me, I'd be able to hear the panic and fear living in his voice. "Are you hurt?" hurrying to ask, his hands run along my body, as if checking for injuries.

His neck smells sweet with vanilla from his cologne and then woodsy all at once, a smell that used to calm me in seconds. No, not now. Inhaling, I try to focus on his voice and the feeling of his fingers in my hair, but it's more than hard. It's only after snaking my arm out from around him and my fingers into his, do I find my bearings. His chin was sandpapery against my head and although he'd wake me up with the weird feeling, I welcome it now. It's what roots me to the spot and brings me back to him.

"Becks honey, talk to me . . Don't run away from me again," sorrow leaked from his words that began to break on his lips. "Please."

"Harry," his name came out in a sob deep from inside of me. The second I'd heard those words drop from Skye's lips I had wanted him . . needed him. I had known that's the only thing that could ever make it better, but could it after I utter the words that had been spinning webs in my head? "S-Skye . . . "

"What, is Skye alright? Did something happen to her? Did-."

"Skye's pregnant, H-Harry."

*

What woke me wasn't the feeling of his fingernails dragging along my arm, raising goosebumps. It was a nightmare that I couldn't place once I'd opened my eyes, but that didn't matter because I'd woken up to one. The night before came flooding back to me, making me remember why my throat burned and my eyes stung. It was from the screams I shouted in the car where nobody could hear me, not even God who they were meant for. No, I doubted he heard me or saw the way I chased breaths between sobs.

"Morning, bug," Harry rasped in his voice dripping with extra honey.

Something unspoken hid in his words and in the way he covered my face with loud kisses. I didn't laugh or even break a smile. It was impossible after the newly awake ignorance washed away seconds after waking. I felt the hesitation in his movements, the way his chin now tucking my head to his chest moved when he was going to speak only to stop. He wanted to ask how I slept or what I dreamt about. It was the usual stuff but I knew that he was choosing his words carefully after all of the ones that were said last night.

I felt lost in my own, not knowing what to say. It was almost as bad as before when a chasm broke through our lives, carrying us away from each other. Almost but not quite. The thought made me cling to him with fear, never wanting to lose him ever again after all of the times that I had already.

"Shhh, I'm here. I-I know it's not okay right now, but it will be eventually," he cooed to me, fingers nimble and gentle where they dragged through my snarled hair.

"How, Harry? How am I going to be okay seeing her have what I want? I have to watch my best friend have a baby when- when I should be pregnant with her too. I-I . . ," no other words are possible as I begin to shake in his arms. Again.

"I know, buggie," is all that he says, speaking volumes more through his fingers drawing shapes into my back.

"How many times have they called?"

His hand pauses, frozen in a soft claw against my spine, "How'd you know? I thought you were asleep."

"I was but I know h-how they are . . She was so upset, Harry. I still feel so bad for how it happened."

"They each called about ten times already since last night between our two phones. I've gotten a few texts as well but I don't know how to answer them," he murmurs and I can only nod. His calming humming begins against my hair, some tune by The Paper Kites that he caught me listening to when I was his assistant, saying it was a favorite of his too. "Skye already said a hundred times that she understands that this is hard for you . . It's what all her texts and voicemail said."

"How can she say that she understands wh-when she's never lost a baby?" out it comes and I can't take it back, despite all of the times that I had thought it. His words of comfort begin but I'm too quick to shut them down. "But I should be happy for her and Asher," I whisper into his chest, the familiar warmth of his necklace against my cheek.

"You don't have to be anything you don't want to be, Becks. We don't get to choose how we feel . . However you're feeling is okay and it's understandable," Harry says, tracing circles under his t-shirt he pulled over me last night when I couldn't get dressed myself. "To be honest, I'm quite pissed at the world at the moment and somehow at them too. It doesn't make sense but feelings never do . . I had the hugest crush on you when we met and I had a girlfriend. It didn't make one bit of sense to me."

All that I can muster is a hummed acknowledgement before words find me, "You fought it and it didn't go away though. I want this to go away. I don't want to be jealous and mad but . . I don't know how I can't be. It's not fair, Harry."

Any licks of morning light is doused out by black when I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing that was the trick to keeping the tears in.

"I know, honey bug. Life is never fair, unfortunately . . but we're going to have our own family one day. It'll happen for us when we're ready again . . And if you can't do it, watching Skye become a Mum, then you don't have to. I don't want you causing yourself any more pain. You've already been through so much."

"But she's my best friend, Harry, ever since first grade."

"Then give it time, babe. Healing doesn't happen in a day . . We both know that."

"How can I heal if everyday I'm reminded of it, Harry? Sh-She's going to have a baby and I'm supposed to be there as her best friend, like we've always planned. The best friend plans the shower and is there for the birth, and her bump is going to get bigger. I-," he stops me before I carry on and eventually implode from the feeling bursting from my words.

"You can only do so much, and however much that is - big or small - is okay. Skye will understand," he insists from above, nudging his nose against my temple. "Shhh, shhh. It's going to be okay, babe. I promise."

Harry's words ghost over my face, smelling of the minty toothpaste we use. If my body wasn't shaking with waterfalls of tears, I'd try to care what time it is and why he isn't at work. Part of me wants to ignore it and that's the one I listen to, letting him rock me back and forth inside of the safety in his arms.

"Thanks for staying w-with me," I blubber against his neck, finding purchase with my hands cupping his shoulders.

"Always, my love. Thank you for doing the same. I know it seems like we keep getting hit down as soon as we get up."

"No kidding," I hiccup.

Trying to focus on the Elton John song he sings to me instead of the danger concocting inside of my head is no easy task. It was one of our favorite songs but it still couldn't stop me from thinking about how it should be Skye and me pregnant together. We'd dreamt out loud how many times since we were six that we'd be mothers together and our kids would be best friends. Now, that will never happen, I think miserably, wishing that things could be different just like I had thought for the last two months. Those thoughts spun back into how I'd have to stand by her side through it all, pretending that I wasn't insanely jealous and resentful. That sentence in itself makes me cry louder against his bare chest, because she was my best friend and how could I be so mad at her for something that was so amazing? I can't but I am.

It was the very same thing I'd said last night after the bedroom door had opened, all of our mouths agape. I'd tripped on my own feet, or their news had knocked me off them, I suppose. It had sent one of their plants onto its side and profanities from my mouth.

"Ree . . Oh my god," Skye had gasped, a hand to her mouth, of course. The face I had known for so many years, watched change over and over, had paled so that it almost matched the wall behind it. "Please. I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to find out this way. I promise I was going to tell you, I just didn't know how. I-."

"I can't do this, Skye. I'm sorry but I-I can't. I don't know how to," I had muttered hastily, my wet eyes already painting my face only moments before hers.

It was only seconds later that Asher had exclaimed my name for there to be no response. Moments before slamming the door, I heard him call after Skye whose footsteps trailed behind me.

"Ree, please! I'm sorry!" she had shouted after me, in a voice that snagged on the fresh crack in my heart.

"Skye, don't. She'll be okay, just give her time."

With a pained sob just before the door closed, I heard her choke out, "I never wanted to hurt her."

"Is there anything I can do to take your mind off it, bubs? It's not healthy to keep replaying it over in your head, and I know you are," Harry's murmur comes, trying to shut the door on the memory. One that is still too fresh and new, too much like the puddle of red I sat on in this very bed that morning. We'd made our way back into our bedroom and into our old lives, thinking things were going back to normal. Little did we know. Shaking my head does little to erase the thoughts, no matter how many times I do it.

"Your head's not an Etch A Sketch, bug. Stop, baby, please," he insists, bringing a hand to my head, trying to make me stop. If only I could erase the thoughts like the old toy we played with as kids. Skye and I would fight over who used it, even if we both were terrible at it. "Please, just tell me what I can do to make it all better."

"You can't always fix it, Harry. Thank you for t-trying, but . . "

Puffing, the crack in my heart widens at the pain held in just his sigh. "I wish more than anything I could, Becks. I'm the husband, the d-dad. I should be fixing it."

"Don't. You can't a-and that's okay," I say with a voice colored with the very opposite, because it really isn't okay.

"Even though it's not . . okay."

Nodding my head quickly into him answers that then and there, as if the tears loud from my eyes didn't say that already.

"I see now why you've never rated your pain as a ten before today . . ," he didn't need to finish his thought because my mind knitted it up for him. Because I need to save it for when it could be nothing else but a ten.

"I miss her. I never even met her and I miss her so much it hurts," my voice trembles, colored with memories that had just become bearable to recall. Now, I feel as if I need to find the key to lock them back up in their box because they're too painful to think about. "I just want her back, Harry."

"I know, sweetheart. So do I," his lips brush against my temple with his words, pressing a kiss there that stays. At least I have Harry. I can get through anything with him by my side. I find it in me to take a full breath at that realization, holding onto him tighter.

*

What now, I thought silently but the words spoke volumes. Underneath me the mattress squeaked when I tried to get comfortable. Tugging at my shirt, my eyes fell to my legs clad in a fresh pair of jeans. It felt bizarre to be wearing them. I hadn't gotten dressed in four days, because I could barely get out of bed. It was too much like the last time and it scared me to no end, because I didn't want to lose everything like before.

I didn't want to get dressed today or to take a shower for the first time since I'd heard about Skye, but I did. Harry gave me time and didn't push me, but when he left for work this morning, again without me, I found it in me to do it. My body had already gotten used to the baggy feeling of Harry's oversized shirt and sweatpants. Now, it wasn't sure about these jeans or the warm black and brown Argyle sweater I'd found in his closet. Dragging a brush through my snarled hair seemed like the most work I could do all day, let alone warming up leftovers after it. This time, I hadn't lost myself completely, but I still didn't feel like me. Knowing what I did changed everything once again, and I didn't know how to do it.

Staring back at me, the meticulous plans Harry and I had made seemed impossible now. The blinking cursor nagged at me to type in the shared Google document, knowing Harry would see it. The top listed the logical need to know things and then the places we'd go, followed by the costs and smaller details. It had only been a week since we'd looked at our wedding plans together, but it had seemed much longer now. Seeing the dress decorated with lace and sewn flowers in our closet pained me, making me wonder how I'd get my best friend to do my hair and makeup now. I knew that she would come, even if I hadn't answered any of her texts or phone calls since it had happened. But how could I do it?

[laurelismyblackcanary]

Doctor Who Davies Era Rankings

The ranking of the seasons is: 1) Season One; 2) Season four 3) Season three 4) Season two. Now I’ll write a different post for the ranking of the episodes for each season.

4) Season Two: Little heads up. I think that all the episodes after the first four position are terrible and I don't really liked any of it. Regardless I'm ranking them form the one I disliked the less to the one that I downright hated.

The Girl in the Fireplace Just like in season one with BoomTown there probably are other episodes more deserving of this place, both for storyline and emotional impact. But I love this one. I love the strength of Madame de Pompadour (and I love Sophia Myles). I love the bittersweet tone of it all. When the Doctor came back for her only to find out she was already dead my heart broke both for him and for her. And I like that they never knew why the robots picked Reinette and followed her through her life, but we get to know it.

Rise of the Cyberman / Age of Steel I am a huge fan of Mickey Smith and I love his character arch. So I love both of these episodes where he gets to really grow and shine. Besides the storyline with Rose's father and Jakie being turned into a Cyberman was really good. And for a while there I was scared that maybe they wouldn't be able to save the day.

School Reunion Anthony Stewart Head was in it and it's already a huge plus. Then there were Sara Jane and K-9. Now I've never watched the Classic Who, but Sara Jane is great and she gives Rose a glimpse of what usually happens with the Doctor's companions. Which we already saw with Jack left behind on a desert space station. Also there's Mickey. And a school got destroyed.

Army of Ghosts / Doomsday I think that these episodes (together with Rise of the Cyberman and Age of Steel) probably have the best storylines. When we learnt that both Cyberman and Daleks were invading Earth... well I'll admit I was a bit scared. Plus I liked Rose's ending ( and I thought it should have stayed this way). It was heartbreaking that she was stuck in a parallel universe away from the Doctor and with no way to come back. But she had her mother, she had Mickey, and a version of her father.

New Earth Cassandra was there. It's pretty much the only think I remember about the episode. And the way she died was sad.

The Impossible Planet / Satan Pit I liked most of the supporting characters and I'm glad someone managed to survive. It's the first time we see the Ood and I think they're fascinating.

The Idiot's Lantern Only nice thing about this episode is the way Rose treated the Father whose name I don't remember. Everything else? Nope. " I am hungry!!!" Come on!

Fear Her I never remember that this episode even exists. That's how forgettable it is.

Tooth and Claw I remember this episode and I wish I don't. Queen Victoria being a werewolf? Founding Torchwood to keep the Doctor away ( still not sure why the Doctor is a threat.) I mean werewolf. I hate werewolves.

Love and Monsters I think most (if not all) Whovians wants to forget this episode even exists. We don't talk about this episode.

[vanillann]

cupid’s aim (sirius black x f!reader)

this was going to be on my wattpad but i thought it might do better up here, so we’ll see!!

word count: 1.3k

cupid’s aim masterlist

prologue

"Do they look like they are in love?"

"I can't tell Black, your greasy hair is in the way."

A small gasp echoed the broom cabinet Sirius and I stood in, his wide eyes burning into my skull. The only light that flooded the cabinets was from the small crack in the door, the perfect line of sight to watch Remus and Myles Wilcox flirt.

Or at least hopefully flirting.

"I washed my hair this morning Bennett, I used vanilla shampoo," Sirius whispered-yelled in my ear, taking a small bit of hair and dangling it in my face.

"I'm going to kill you."

"They would catch you."

"Did you forget my best friend is Cherry Brown?"

I kept my hands on either side of the crack while turning to look at the boy over the man 's shoulder. The small crack of light shone across one of his eyes and half his mouth, almost something out of a piece of art.

"You're right, I'm so sorry my queen."

Sirius bowed his head to him, lifting his head back up to bang it on the top of the cabinet. I jumped, turning back to the two boys flirting barely a few feet away from us. They didn't seem to react, still carry on a conversation like before.

"Black if you don't get your-"

I gasped this time as I walked Myles fingers delicately placed a small yellow flower behind Remus' ear, the shit eating smirk on his face showed that whatever they were talking about had to be flirty.

"Did he punch him?"

I let my hand fill behind me, feeling around until I found Sirius tie. I dragged his face to hover right over my shoulder, moving my head slightly so he could see the scene before me.

"Godric (Y/N), I think we actually did something."

Sirius turned his head, his nose bumping against mine as he looked at me with his grey eyes. They held pure awe as they burned into my own, the iris of his eye was blown impeccably and his thin lips were parted somewhat.

"We got good aim Black."

"Huh?"

I rolled my eyes and his eyebrow lifted, pushing him slightly so I was looking back out the small crack again.

"You seduced me for your spot back!"

I kick my leg back, my small flats running into his shin. As soon as I began pulling my foot back to the spot on the wooden floor I felt two hands wrap around my ankle.

"Nope."

He pulled back, hard. I felt my front crash onto the floor causing brooms to fall on top of Sirius and I, splinters from the floor and the brooms breaking my skin.

"Oh shit'" Sirius' small laughs filled the cabinet, his deep voice made everything sound breathy.

"Sleep with one eye open tonight Black, Cherry is really good at breaking into things."

I heard the door of the cabinet swing open, light flooding my back while I hid my face in my arm .

Please don't be Remus, please don't be Remus.

"You didn't tell me you two were shagging!"

I looked up to see James Potter looking at us both with such wide eyes his glasses were slowly falling to the tip of his nose.

"We aren't Prongs," Sirius stepped from the small shape, finally allowing me to untangle myself from the brooms laid across my back.

"We were spying on Remus."

I felt a few brooms lift off my back, enough wait was gone so I could turn to my side. Sirius stood beside me, passing brooms to James while pulling more from off me.

"Why? Does Remus hate us now?"

James looked between Sirius and I panicked, dropping the few brooms that were held in his grip.

"No, we set him up with Myles Wilcox," Sirius set the few brooms against the door and held a hand out for me, my hand easily slipping into his and he pulled me from the floor of the broom closet.

"Oh, well how'd it go?"

"Fabulous if I do say so myself."

"And she does say so herself," Sirius grabbed my shoulders and did a jumpy little dance from behind me.

He likes to call it his "I'm right and you aren't" dance.

"Well isn't that a miracle, I didn't even know they liked each other," James picked up the few brooms on the floor and shoved them into the broom closet messily.

"We didn't either, we're just really good at seeing the signs."

Sirius reaching his hand from my shoulder from beside me, his hand out waiting for a high-five, which I happily gave.

"Imagine if you were both professionals," James started walking backward, the Great Hall quickly filling up for dinner for the night.

"We'd be rich."

We all slipped into the Great Hall, I quickly departed and left for the Ravenclaw table. Amira sat at the end of the long table with a pile of papers laid before her.

"Mi?"

"(Y/N)!"

She bounced in her seat slightly, he curled following suit as she looked up at me with a large smile.

"What's with the papers?"

I took the seat across from her, picking up a paper but she quickly reached across and grabbing the paper from my hands.

"I got out that stupid writer block."

She looked back down at her journal and carried on writing, her food pushed to the other side of the table.

"Mi you gotta eat."

"I can do that when I'm dead," she waved me off and continued the dramatic writing spell she had fallen into.

"You actually can't Mi, that's the whole point."

She didn't even acknowledge my words, her pen gliding across the page with ease as she wrote about the world within her brain.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the plant, shoving a fork full of mash potatoes and grabbing a napkin with the other hand. I kicked Mi in the shin, causing her to look up at me while one hand went to rub her shin.

"Say ah."

Mi rolled her eyes but did it anyways, looking at me with her best version of her mad face. I moved the fork to her mouth, her quickly swallowing the food and picking back up the pen and writing.

"Fuck that."

I looked to my right, Cherry long black hair caught my eye as she huffed from beside me.

"What happened to you?"

"That boy from the other night though he would tell me what I can and can't wear. Hell he decided he didn't wanna wear a condom so I can wear my mini skirts.

Cherry turned, diving her legs under the table and picking from Mi plate. Her green and silver scarf made her stand out against the Ravenclaw colors but no one paid no mind, this happened a lot more than most like to say.

"Why are you spoon feeding Amira?"

"She refuses to eat unless and until she grows an extra arm so she can write, so she grew an extra arm."

Cherry smirked and turned to me, wrapping her two arms around my shoulders.

"We wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you."

I laughed and carefully pushed Cherry off, picking up more food on the fork and shoving it at Mi.

"I was inspired by (Y/N) and Sirius' little plan to write a story like mythology but not mythology," Amira spoke as she took the few peas that were on the fork.

"Oh yeah, how did that go by the way?"

"Fabulous, Sirius and I would make perfect cupid's," I smiled proudly at both the girls while grabbing a few fruit from the plate and popping them into my mouth.

"Well if you both need another person's life to play with, I'm free this week," Cherry plucked a grape from my finger and shoved it in inbetween her red lips.

"James Potter probably always had that spot filled."

Mi and Cherry looked at one another at the same time before nodding. I suddenly realized how many people needed some guidance.

Maybe Sirius and I could be that guidance?

"Guys, I think you're onto something."

peermanent hp tag list:

@siriusmaraudeers @marauder-exe @haphazardhufflepuff

sirius black tag list:

@coldlilheart @inkhearthes