#they know it's bad. put your outrage towards their goals not the funny little words they use to get there.

[miodiodavinci]

(single loud AA) (the forest goes silent immediately after) (birdsong returns moments later)

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 294: A Half-Assed Escape

Previously on BnHA: Mirio was all “SURPRISE I’M BACK THANKS TO OUR RESIDENT SEVEN-YEAR-OLD WHO RECENTLY EARNED HER BACHELOR’S OF BEING A TOTAL BADASS.” Kacchan was all, “you know what, Dabi’s been trending long enough, time to remind the fandom what a real G looks like,” and he blasted his little bleeding body back into the fray and was all “FROM HERE ON OUT CALL ME DYNAMIGHT!!” Mirio was all, “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... oh, you’re serious,” and Kacchan was all “!!”, and so that’s the story of how my son got murdered twice in one day. Meanwhile in the Todoroki Drama Zone, Deku was all “STOP MURDERING MY FRIEND” and Dabi was all “THAT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS” and fandom had a whole big debate about Whether Or Not Dabi Trying To Murder Deku’s Friends And Mentors Is Any Of Deku’s Business, which went exactly how you think it went. Anyway, so then Deku yelled at Dabi, and Endeavor was all moved by his manly words and randomly went to go uppercut Machia in the chin. And, seeing as how the Momoserum finally chose that exact moment to kick in, Machia is now down for the count.

Today on BnHA: The Miriosquad handles the Nearly High End Noumus, freeing up Jeanist to jasphyxiate (okay that one doesn’t really work so well) the rest of the League. Compress is all “TIME FOR THIS MILD-MANNERED SIDE CHARACTER VILLAIN TO SHINE”, except that by “shine” what he actually means is “use his quirk to punch a literal hole right through his own ass to free himself.” The rest of the chapter is basically just a back and forth between him and Jeanist, with Jeanist trying to recapture him, and Compress repeatedly thwarting him by chopping more holes out of himself because HE’S FRESH OUT OF FUCKS, AND THE ONES AT THE STORE ARE ALL SOLD OUT, MOTHERFUCKERS. Anyway, so with Compress basically dying and all, Horikoshi is all “you know what that means”, and delivers a freshly-baked villain flashback revealing that Compress is a descendant of Harima Ouji, a.k.a. the Peerless Thief, a.k.a. some famous guy whom Gentle mentioned this one time for like two seconds back in the day. The chapter ends with Compress finally demasking himself and dumping Tomura back onto the ground, a.k.a. The Worst Possible Place For Tomura To Be. ( •﹏•)

WHY IS CRUST HERE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD

-- OH WAIT, SHIT. OH

AIZAWAAAA you’re alive and receiving medical help thank GOD. HOW MANY EYES DO YOU HAVE. AND MIRKO!! HOW MANY LIMBS DO YOU HAVE, OMG

so is this Aizawa dreaming about Crust’s final moments, then?? jesus. with All Due Respect to Crust’s memory, does Aizawa not already have enough misplaced guilt on his conscience as it is?? “nope, we’re gonna keep piling it on. that’s all he is now. three limbs, an indeterminate number of eyes, sexy hair, and Guilt” well shit

motherfucker y’all really out here placing an oxygen mask on Gran Torino’s corpse. fucking shounen characters. each one comes with a lifetime warranty

DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI WHY DO YOU KEEP SHOWING THESE CLOSE-UPS OF HAWKS’S UNCONSCIOUS FACE ALL WHUMPED OUT AND EXHAUSTED. HOW MUCH MORE OF THIS ARE WE GOING TO GET. ARE YOU PLANNING ON KILLING ME WITH THE UPCOMING CONVALESCENCE ARC, BECAUSE IF SO, AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO TELL ME AHEAD OF TIME SO I CAN MAKE A WILL

for a moment I considered going back and checking my previous recaps to count how many times I’ve already made a joke about Dabi’s fire incinerating Hawks’s wings but not touching so much as a hair on his five o’clock shadow, so that I could calculate whether or not I could possibly get away with making that same joke one more time. but then I realized I could just do it in this kind of roundabout way I’m doing right now instead. so there you have it

FFFFFFFMT LADY AND MIDNIGHT NOOOOO

PLEASE BE ALIVE. PLEASE RESPECT THE SIGN ON THE FRONT OF THE BUILDING. THE ONE THAT SAYS “NO LADY CHARACTERS ALLOWED TO DIE”, WITH THE FINE PRINT AT THE BOTTOM “AT LEAST NOT UNTIL HORIKOSHI GIVES US LIKE TWENTY-SIX MORE OF THEM FIRST IF THAT’S THE WAY HE WANTS TO PLAY IT.” IT’S A GOOD SIGN, PLEASE RESPECT ITS WISHES!!

so anyway though, Jeanist is giving a speech about how god knows how many people all worked together to bring Machia down. and now RHA is getting in on those fabric puns too, I see. “A SINGLE STRAND MAY BE THIN BUT TOGETHER THEY FORM A STRONG ROPE” oh so you think you guys are funny eh? I’m a frayed knot

MEANWHILE EXCUSE ME BUT WHY ARE YOU FUCKING CRYING BLOOD, HOLY SHIT

fffffff. so much for him taking over as the Number One once all this is over. so let’s just recap real quick, because Horikoshi has long since made it clear that one of his plot goals for this arc is to wipe out every single member of the Billboard Top Ten. so how we doin?

Endeavor - was just figuratively eviscerated in front of the entire nation by his homicidal zombiepunk son. also burnt half to death and possibly down a lung. will almost certainly be forced to retire after this one way or the other

Hawks - lying prettily in a medical tent. wings status: gone. hair status: still perfect

Jeanist - WELL I THOUGHT HE WAS FINE BUT APPARENTLY HE’S OUT HERE DYING, JESUS CHRIST

Edgeshot - MIA, last seen fighting Re-Destro. I really want him to have kicked RD’s ass because fuck that guy, but realistically they probably fought to a draw at best

Mirko - alive but in critical condition and missing something like 1.5 limbs

Crust - dead, currently haunting Aizawa’s traumatized dreams. now he’s gonna be triggered the rest of his life by people giving him the thumbs up, THANKS A LOT

Kamui Woods - was set on fire which is His Weakness. thoughts and prayers

Wash - last seen floating hospital patients to safety as Tomura’s wave of decay descended towards him. probably dead ffff

Old Man Samurai - haven’t seen this fucker in a hot minute, who even knows where he’s wandered off to

Ryuukyuu - currently being treated for her wounds, looked pretty bad off. but it’s hard to tell how hurt she is since most of the injuries were acquired in her transformed state. SHE BETTER GET WELL SOON

anyways, so yeah. so much for the top ten. guess that’s another reason Horikoshi brought Mirio back now, huh

so there’s a big panel of everyone fighting the Noumu while Machia lies there all “blurgh.” good riddance my dude. it took like twenty chapters and a hundred people to stop this guy so I really fucking hope he stays down. you’ve had your fun

anyway so Jeanist is sending another steel thread towards Dabi! and he’s all “just a bit more!!” fklklj this is gonna go real well isn’t it

meanwhile Mirio’s fighting a Nearly High End with all of these weird rock formations jutting out of its skin. go on and kick his ass then, Mirio

“each of these guys is probably just as strong as the Noumu from Kyuushuu” hold on I thought Ujiko or Tomura or someone said that wasn’t the case? not that Mirio would know I suppose. anyways let’s just hope he’s wrong cuz if not these kids are probably screwed

kLSDKFHLSKHGLKLK OH MY GODDDD

IIDA FUCKING TENYA YOU’RE A PEACH. THINKS THE NAME IS OUTRAGEOUS, CHECK. USES IT ANYWAY, CHECK. “JUST BECAUSE I DON’T UNDERSTAND DOESN’T MEAN I CAN’T BE SUPPORTIVE.” WHAT A CLASS ACT

AND KACCHAN IS RESPONDING WITH AS MUCH DIGNITY AS HE CAN MUSTER

WOW, SON. IT’S ALMOST AS THOUGH YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, OR SOMETHING!! although listen up, real talk, the fact that Kacchan of all people can’t muster the energy to yell at someone questioning his ability to kick ass is HIGHKEY troubling and we may be in need of an intervention here soon :/

now Jeanist is finally turning his attention to the League! was... was it not already on the League. omg

ACTUAL SCREAMING AHHHHHH FUCK FUCKLK LK AHHLKHKFFFF

hey so um. what the actual fucked up hell. my soul left my body. imagine if you saw the reflection of this panel on your bedroom window. you would never sleep again

OKAY RHA TRANSLATORS ARE YOU HAVING YOURSELF A LAUGH AGAIN

THIS CANNOT BE WHAT HE’S ACTUALLY SAYING RIGHT. BUT IT’S RIGHT IN THAT UNCANNY VALLEY OF NOT BEING QUITE SURE, THOUGH... (　ﾟдﾟ)

(ETA: just a next-day clarification here, apparently my sleep-deprived ADHD word-skipping brain completely skipped right over the “a” in that last panel, so what I read was, “and Shigaraki’s limp noodle.” so yeah, the moral of this story is always read the speech bubble carefully before you start making running jokes throughout the rest of your post, folks.)

oh wow he’s really freaking out lmao

to be fair though, I’d argue that Dabi has gotten pre-tty close at this point :’) thrilled for him, really I am

but anyway, well then figure something out you big dramatic robot-armed fiend. didn’t you just say you could touch your own ass? can you not just Compress yourself to break free?? does it not work on you? or would you be stuck afterwards lol

(ETA: I was picturing him compressing his entire body at once, not just chunks of it. ghhhlkh.)

um

holy shit Jeanist. are you stupidly trying to cut off their air, or are you going for more of a sleeper hold (jleeper hold??) thing instead. the latter would be way smarter and faster and probably safer as well just saying

but unless Spinner is just being super dramatic, it sure looks like he’s fucking strangling them djslkjlk. this will certainly cement his popularity among the villain stans. good thing you’re not running for office any time soon bud

anyway so I have no idea what these guys are trying to do now. what is this

do you even have till the count of 5 at this rate. I mean

OH MY GOODNESS

HE’S REALLY FUCKING DOING IT!! HE’S COMPRESSING HIS BUTT!! OMFG. TOMURA HIDE YOUR NOODLE!!!

WHAT THE FUCK

DID YOU COMPRESS A PIECE OF YOUR OWN ASS. FUCKING WHAT. PUT THIS MAN’S PICTURE IN THE DICTIONARY NEXT TO THE WORD “LOYALTY”, HOLY CRAP

HOLY SHIT COMPRESS

“HOLY SHIT DID THAT GUY JUST PUNCH A HOLE THROUGH HIS OWN ASS IN ORDER TO SAVE HIS VILLAIN PALS. FUCK IT, HE DESERVES TO ESCAPE”

jeez, talk about... A HALF-ASSED ESCAPE ATTEMPT :D :D :D hahaha. but real talk though, Horikoshi has clearly never tried to leap twelve feet straight up in the air multiple times in succession with only half his glutes though. everyone, I regret to inform you that this panel right here on the left may be slightly unrealistic

also where the hell is he going to go?? did you pack a jetpack away in one of those little marbles sir. and what about Dabi?? and Skeptic too, I guess, but we don’t really care about Skeptic

(ETA: at this point I had to stop reading for about two hours because I had to go out and take care of something; that’s also why this is being posted later than usual lol. anyways so where were we.)

oh my lord

the existence of a translator’s note here implies that the earlier line about Compress being able to reach Tomura’s junk was not, in fact, ad-libbed. hmm. hmmmmmmmm

anyway so now he’s grabbing Compress again because OF COURSE HE IS, so now we’re right back to square one! except now Tomura and Spinner are secured inside of little marbles, and presumably Compress is the only one who can release them

oh nevermind he’s just maiming himself again instead, SHEESH

Skeptic a man is dying please have some goddamn respect

so, uh. is he gonna die, though??

I really can’t tell wtf is going on here, this is the most confusing the art has been in a while. Horikoshi put all of his spoons into that creepyass close-up panel earlier, that bastard

OMG WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS

DON’T FUCKING TELL ME THE “COMPRESS IS RELATED TO THIS THIEF GUY FROM OLDEN TIMES” THEORY IS ACTUALLY TRUE WHAAAAAAT. OH SHIT

so apparently Harima was a Robin Hood type guy who stole from... heroes?? wtf. are heroes the 1% in this scenario. y’all didn’t have any Fortune 500 CEOs to steal from?

THAT’S THE BLOOD THAT FLOWS THROUGH YOU, OH SHIT. and in a related oh shit, the fact that we are getting a Compress flashback now of all times doesn’t bode super well for him. ffff

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKIS ARE STILL TODOROKI-ING

listen here boy if you touch one freaking hair on Shouto’s candy cane head I swear to god --

WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY!!!

SHOUTO NOOOOOO. WTF YOU’RE LITERALLY THE ONE GUY WHOSE WEAKNESS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FIRE. DABI YOU SHIT, YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF!! I’M PRINTING OUT A COPY OF THAT COMPRESS PANEL!!! KEEP AN EYE OUT ON THAT BEDROOM WINDOW YOU PUNK!!!

SO NOW POOR SHOUTO IS UNCONSCIOUS AND FALLING!! SOMEONE SAVE HIM!! WHO CATCHES THE CATCHER

COMPRESS LITERALLY HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE RIGHT NOW, WHAT IS HAPPENING

PLEASE DON’T CALL TOMURA LEADER OF THE “PLF” YOU KNOW I CAN’T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY WHEN YOU DO THAT. ARE YOU DYING. ARE YOU JUST A FUCKING HEAD NOW WTF

(ETA: “masks are removable, makeste” you know what it’s been a long day okay lmao. or I suppose Compress is really the one who is lmao.)

GASPPPPPP

okay. okay. looooool okay then

WHY WERE YOU COVERING THIS SEXY MOP OF HAIR UNDER THAT HOOD YOU TOOL. IT WOULD HAVE LOOKED SO GOOD WITH THE TOP HAT. I’M SO MAD AT YOU RIGHT NOW

as if it wasn’t enough for him to demask himself, he also had to get all shirtless and then do this weird attempt at a sexypose too huh

hard to say exactly how much of his torso is currently missing, but safe to say that’s proooooooobably not good. :///// fuck

on the other hand, Kacchan also has a torso hole and he’s still flying around like he just drank a dozen red bulls, so

this man lost his ass and he’s still out here monologuing like it’s the last two minutes of The Prestige. one might say he is monologuing his ass off

so he let Spinner and Tomura free, but is Dabi still trapped in his marble?? wasn’t he all on fire and stuff?? hopefully he can still turn off his quirk in there because if not that’s a pretty fucked up way to die. somewhere out there Snatch’s ghost is all “YEAH I’LL SAY.” oh how the turntables

last but not least, sooooooo. Tomura. back on the ground. that’s. um. ...shiiiiiiiit

[starshipsofstarlord]

Vaping - Elizabeth Olsen x reader x JJ Maybank

Masterlist Link

Summary; introducing your girlfriend to your best friend takes an interesting turn. Much evolves from a couple beers and a vape, JJ finally lets go

Warnings; mentions of nudes, vaping, underaged drinking, mentions of sex, some angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, angst, rejection, unreciprocated feelings

As the two of you kissed, a strong scent hit you, like a ton of breaks causing collateral as it fell from a building, though it smelled specifically of a pungent lemon scent. The pair of you pulled away, and there was a vaping blond stood above you, quirking his brow at the sight. It was no surprise that he had chosen to intervene with your casual date, you knew how he felt about your new relationship.

As the two of you kissed, a strong scent hit you, like a ton of breaks causing collateral as it fell from a building, though it smelled specifically of a pungent lemon scent. The pair of you pulled away, and there was a vaping blond stood above you, quirking his brow at the sight. It was no surprise that he had chosen to intervene with your casual date, you knew how he felt about your new relationship.

He was appalled to hear that you were committed to another, angry, jealous, he could go on about the emotions that were raging on inside of him. Time before you had even knew of Lizzie’s existence, you and JJ had a thing, more specifically, you had broken the pogue on pogue rule. The two of you would go at it with ample lust fuelling your every action, but the stick in the mud was, JJ had actually caught feelings.

When you had cut things off with him, claiming that you wanted to see other people, he was outraged, though he played it off as though it were no big deal. You remained close friends, and hardly noticed how he had been reading your messages to Elizabeth over your shoulder, nor how he frowned every time he heard of someone by that name. It pissed him off, she had his prized jewel, she didn’t have to fight for you like he had tried.

She was gifted your affection on a silver and clean platter, there was no dirty or guilt ridden scrubs that endured the profanity in your relationships, the two of you could be open with your turn of adoration for one another, but when JJ thought that he had you, it had to all be a secret. Even the pogues weren’t permitted an insight of your transactions, even if they had a keen eye for how the pair of you mysteriously tended to wander off together.

Kie, Pope and John B had been supportive when you told them that you had began to like someone, at first they thought it was JJ, which had gotten his hopes substantially up, but then it was revealed there was a girl in the picture. It didn’t matter if she was pretty, or kind, or out of the class laws of OBX, JJ resented her, even though he was a stranger to her and vice versa. But the one thing he liked about this unknown lover of yours had been how she made you happy, that was always his goal.

Without it being the matter that he was supposed to be concerned about, JJ thought hard about his own feelings. Yes, he tended to be a screw up, but he had an inkling that he was more than smitten with you. He was in love with you, and staring down at you with this new partner of yours, gave him great staking pain in his chest. ��Why are you here Maybank?” In defends, JJ raised a cartridge of four beers to your view, the cock of your head being an invitation for him to take a seat.

He cleared his throat, as though that would be a primal factor in establishing his dominance, as he turned to your girlfriend. “How are you liking Outer Banks so far?” He handed her a beer, to which Lizzie willingly accepted with a thank you and a too kind to hate smile. “Most tourists think the views are nice.” He prompted to the conversation, watching a riddle spur in the brunette’s eyes.

“Oh, the views are more than fine.” She looked at you, running her green orbs down your form as she shamelessly checked you out in front of the boy. Lizzie cracked the lid from the bottle, weaving it off as she took a gulp from the liquor, draining her extraction of it like a champ. “I’m Elizabeth by the way.” Oh, he knew. A part of him wished that he in fact did not, the impartial knowledge of being aware of your exclusivity status had him crumbling from the inside out.

He had been getting into more fights with the kooks lately, taking his anger out on the prissy teens to establish some kind of reputation, even if that not carry the title of your boyfriend. “We get quite a few storms, like Agatha, she was a right bitch, didn’t hear from y/n for like a week. She was getting it on with Kelce, he’s from the other side of the island.”

“Figure Eight.” She noted, having recalled you mention it before. Your eyes widened, kicking him in the shin as you realised what he was doing. “How long ago was that, I know you said the power went out.” JJ realised what she was trying to do, it was her attempt at creating a time line of actions. She was building up a map of your entanglements with actions, and seeing if you could be held accountable for cheating.

“Just before the two of got together, which links to this funny story....” Oh no, no he wasn’t, was he? “We’d had our fun in the past, me and your girlfriend, and turns out when I heard about you two, we were still fucking.” Snatching the vape from him, you breathed it in, as though you were preparing for Lizzie’s reaction. She simply shrugged, taking the item from you and lulling in the acidic smoke that filled her lungs.

“That’s okay, we didn’t know each other too well then, and it seems there is quite the tight knit on the island.” God were you relieved, and endorsed in the sight of smoke blowing out of her nostrils as she took another swig of the liquidised joint. “I don’t have a problem with it as long as you don’t. What was your name again, I seem to have forgotten.” Forgotten on purpose it was more like, she wanted him out of the picture, he was simply a blockade in his way.

“Me?” He laughed lightly whilst pointing at himself. Yes him, the guy that was being an absolute dick and disrupting your supposed to be peaceful evening. “Oh, I’m JJ. I have no problem with you being here, in fact, I think it’s great. You’re just another hot chick that has caught y/n’s eye, when you go back to wherever the hell you came from, she’ll probably start hooking up with some random; wouldn’t be the first time, doubt it’d be the last.”

“I’m from California.” She stated unimpressed by JJ’s behaviour. You had mentioned him to her, filled her in on all valid details, but you didn’t say that he was this much of a dick. “And I don’t have to worry about that, I have my reasons.”

“Oh, because you trust her so much?” He laughed, taking a heavy slog of beer, hurriedly gulping it down as though it were some kind of coping mechanism. “She’s not trustworthy, she doesn’t give a fuck about any one’s feelings, she uses them for her own pleasure, and then makes things neutral between them.” Was he being over the top? Definitely. Were you astounded by the scene that he was causing? Sure as hell.

“J settle down.” You tried to coax him, but he swiftly stood, tears rimming the inclination of bud pain staked eyes. It was clear that he was not settling down; not in the slightest. He breathed in the vape once more, the lemony scent burning down through his chest for a moment, before he released the cloud out into the air, it swimming above like a wave out of the ocean.

“Don’t J me.” He mimicked you, rifling his destructive hands through his blond locks. “I don’t even know who you are, yet you took everything from me.” Lizzie felt a little bad for your friend, he was clearly experiencing symptoms of emotions towards you, it made her feel guilty for your shared secret.

“I’m moving JJ.” You revealed, his face becoming stoic with wide eyes. Lizzie squeezed your hand as you physically and mentally stood up to your best friend and past friend with benefits, causing him brash surprise that burned through his lungs. “To California.” You finished.

“With her?” He asked astounded, taking a step back as he dropped the glass bottle, allowing it to drop upon the dock, causing both you and Lizzie to jump from the smash. “I can’t believe you.” He breathed from his vape, turning away with a shake of his head.

“J.” You tried to call out for him, but he nevertheless continued on his path away. “Come on, don’t be ridiculous.” Him, being ridiculous? What a stupid annotation, he was allowed to be hurt. Yet it seemed that you wanted him to feel nothing, be a mute to emotions.

“I’m ridiculous?” He huffed, spinning around so that your noses touched, forcing you to throw your head back in shock. “You’re the one that ditched me, for some girl, that doesn’t know that you have a peeve of people not putting their ankle through the loop when they surf because otherwise it just hangs there, and how it makes you absolutely crazy when Kie dresses like a kook. Wait a moment, did you tell her that you were a kook?”

He laughed, noticing how a frown formed upon Lizzie’s face. “That’s truly amusing, lying about your wealth to attract the attention of a pretty girl, when you have a guy that absolutely adores you for who and what you are. He’s pogue and proud, and currently speaking in third person because he’s scared to openly admit that he’s in love with you.”

It was an unexpected reveal, that statement of how he truly felt, it unfortunately was not just a crush. “She didn’t tell me that she was a kook, you just want there to be issues between me and y/n, which there isn’t. So I suggest you continue walking, she is not interested in you, or your fucking feelings. We are dating, and she is moving with me, so grow up and deal with it.”

“Wait-“ your words ended as he continued walking. You knew he would take the news terribly, but you never guessed it would be him walking away, rather than the other way around. You were going to be 43 hours away from your home to spend time with the one that you were coiled in a relationship with. It was not how you wanted things to end, instead you wanted him to breathe his vape into your face and be like normal.

[seven-homosexual-dinosaurs]

That didn’t go as planned

A one-shot set in the “reunions” universe. Mary and Anne get left home alone together and experience some inevitable bonding and bad ideas.

Mary sighed. Of course, of all the queens she had to be stuck with, she was stuck with Anne Boleyn. Well “stuck” might be a bit of an exaggeration. They were simply the only ones in the house, but quite frankly, Mary sure felt like she was stuck with the green queen, and even if she didn’t voice it, Mary had no doubts Boleyn felt the same.

That wasn’t to say the two didn’t get along, not really at least. Things were just... awkward between them. That seemed like a fitting description. Things were just fine when the other queens were there acting as buffers, hell, they’d even ganged up once to annoy Aragon! But when it was just the two of them? Things tended to go south rather quickly.

But here they were, just the two of them. Cleves and Howard had gone to lunch together, bringing Liz with them so that she could spend some quality time with her “aunts”. Parr and Seymour had gone out shopping for whatever things raising two infants required, bringing little Ed and Mae with them. Aragon had gone to hang out with the Ladies, and even though she’d invited both Boleyn and Mary, both had chosen to stay at home, a decision they were both likely regretting. Mary certainly was.

As soon as Aragon had left the house, planting a kiss on Mary’s forehead and jokingly telling Boleyn to stay out of the hospital (Apparently the queens had come home one day to find that Boleyn had landed herself in the hospital after falling out of a tree. She had yet to find out how exactly Boleyn had ended up in a tree, but the queens didn’t know and Boleyn refused to tell), Mary had settled on the couch book in hand.

Parr had given her a list of must-read books written after their deaths, and Mary was currently in the midst of reading JK Rowling’s “Harry Potter” series. In a different time, Mary would have been most certainly offended by the usage of witchcraft in the books, but now, Mary had to admit, the books were a rather entertaining read.

Movement in the edge of her peripheral vision caught her attention. Looking up, she watched Boleyn stuff her shoes on, not bothering to tie the laces before opening the front door and stepping out, an odd sort of determination on her face.

“Where are you going?”

Boleyn stuck her head through the door. “I’ve got a score to settle with a certain tree. Wish me luck,”

Mary contemplated her words for a moment before being struck with realization.

“The tree you fell out of?”

“Yep,” Boleyn stood at the door, adjusting her sweater. “The other queens aren’t here to stop me, and as the oldest in the house, I’m allowed to do what I want, which means no one can stop me,”

Mary marked her page with a bookmark before closing it. “You’re just gonna fall out again,”

“Bet!”

Mary rolled her eyes. “At least let me come with you,”

At Boleyn’s expression, she elaborated.

“I can call an ambulance when you fall,”

Boleyn scoffed. “Oh ye of little faith,” Still, she waited for Mary to put a hat on as protection against the fall chill and join her at the door before continuing on her path towards the park.

---------------------------

The walk to the park was filled with a tense silence. Mary stuffed her hands in her pockets, awkwardly jogging to keep up with Boleyn’s hurried pace. 

“So.... what were you even doing in a tree in the first place?”

Boleyn gave her a quizzical look, prompting her to continue.

“Y’know, when you fell out of the tree?”

Boleyn didn’t answer, and Mary briefly wondered if she had heard her before Boleyn stuck her tongue out at her playfully. “That’s for me to know and you to find out. Except you’re not gonna find out. So I guess that’s just for me to know and for you to not find out,”

Mary rolled her eyes good naturedly. “You are such a child,”

“Says the literal fifteen year old!”

“Funny how I’m only fifteen years old, yet so much more mature than you,”

“Excuse you?”

And so the tension in the air slowly dissipated as the two exchanged jab after jab at each other, laughter filling the air.

---------------------------

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“The best,”

Mary scoffed from where she stood at the base of the tree, eyeing Boleyn skeptically. “Remind exactly what your goal is?”

“I’m gonna climb to the top of the tree,”

“.... That’s it?”

Boleyn sent her a glare.

“No, it’s just- you’re gonna risk another trip to the hospital just to climb a tree?”

“It’s not just to climb a tree!” She exclaimed, “It’s about the grudge I hold against this tree! It’s about teaching this tree not to mess with me!”

Meeting Mary’s incredulous gaze, Boleyn scoffed. “Kids these days,”

Ignoring Mary’s outraged squawk, Boleyn continued up the tree. Mary watched anxiously from the bottom, wincing whenever Boleyn missed a foothold and holding her breath whenever her hand slipped. Not that she’d ever admit it.

Boleyn stopped at a relatively thick branch, sending a thumbs up in Mary’s direction. Mary was pacing at the bottom of the tree, just wishing Boleyn would hurry up and finish up when it happened. Boleyn stepped just a little too close to a pigeon’s nest, something the pigeon didn’t like at all. The bird screeched from where it was lookin for worms on the ground and took off at Boleyn.

“ANNE, LOOK OUT!” 

Boleyn’s head swiveled to look at the pigeon, just in time to let out a startled yelp as she tried to step backwards away from the bird, only to land on nothing. Mary let out a scream as she watched Boleyn plummet to the ground, landing with a resounding “oomph”.

She raced to where Anne laid, falling to her knees at her side. “Anne! Anne, are you okay?!”

Anne groaned, lifting her hand to give a thumbs up. Mary gave a relieved sigh, feeling her shoulders drop from their tensed position. 

Mary’s head jerked up towards Anne, who had begun making some sort of noise. Worry soon turned to confusion as she realized Anne was laughing. Laughing. 

“Um... Am I missing the joke, or are you just concussed?”

Anne laughed harder, prompting more worry from Mary. Again, not that she’d admit it.

Anne turned to face Mary, eyes shining with happiness.

“That’s the first time you’ve called me Anne,”

Mary froze, a slight blush creeping onto her face. Had she? She hadn’t realized, she’d simply called the first thing that came to mind.

“I can stop if you want-”

“No, no it’s fine!” Anne assured her, “Just don’t call me Annie. Only Kat and Cathy are allowed to call me that. Or Jane if she’s having a bad day,”

Mary nodded in understanding. The two stayed there for a while before Mary cleared her throat awkwardly. “Shall we get going then?”

Anne nodded, wincing slightly as she stood up. Meeting Mary’s worried gaze, she gave another thumbs up. 

“No broken bones here, just a bruised ego! Also my back. And maybe arms and legs from the branches I hit on my way down. And also- y’know what? Let’s just assume everything’s bruised, ego included,”

Mary snorted, swatting Anne with her arm.

“Hey! I’m injured!”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get home before the queens find out,”

Anne raised her eyebrow at her. “Have I got myself a new partner in crime?” 

Mary let out a resounding groan. What on earth had she gotten herself into?

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Nerd 11

Previously on Nerd

There weren’t any nerves because of the dance. Lexa had been forced to go to dances by her sister in an effort to make her feel included, and then with friends from various teams who all seemed to have similar goals. It was just a dance that would last a few hours and then she’d be done and that was okay. After going to about a dozen already in her life, Lexa couldn’t spend too much time allowing herself to be nervous. 

The nerves came because Clarke promptly informed her that her parents were at a conference for the week, and she should come over after the dance. That was a very good invitation. It was probably the best invitation and Lexa knew what it meant. And she wasn’t sure about it. But she was also afraid of lying to her parents. Because she couldn’t rightly tell them she was going over her girlfriend’s house for the night, no matter how supportive they were with their new “gay daughter” parenting books and Pride-colored paraphernalia. 

The nerves came because she had a girlfriend and was going to a dance with her. They came because she was somehow dating the head cheerleader, and she fell into meeting her and what if it went badly? What if she went over to Clarke’s place and forgot how to kiss? Or breathe? Or stand? Because all seemed likely with the fact that her brain short circuited when she saw her girlfriend in her cheerleading uniform. Surely seeing her in anything less than fully-clothed would lead to disaster. 

Lexa took a deep breath and stared at herself in her mirror before adjusting her hair and then her sleeve. She was afraid to call her sister. She didn’t want anyone to know. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to know, just that she really wanted to go over Clarke’s place and not go to the dance at all. But she didn’t know how to go to Clarke’s, in the euphemistic sense. Despite all of the research that just seemed to cloud her brain even further, the idea of sex was intriguing and scary, but not altogether frightening. 

“Well, golly, aren’t you a real dreamboat?” 

Despite herself and the worry that crept in just a few seconds before, Lexa blushed and smiled before pushing herself away from the mirror, grabbing her leather jacket a second later. The conversation she had with her reflection shed no light on her predicament. 

“Are you sure this isn’t stupid?” 

“I’m very sure,” Clarke promised, leaning against the doorway. “You are a very dreamy date and I’m so glad you offered to take little ol’ me to the Hop.” 

“Are you going to talk like this all night?” Lexa cocked her head as she slid on her jacket, careful to not mess up the slicked hair and pristine white shirt. 

“Sure am, Daddy-o.” 

“You look adorable, by the way,” she offered when she reached the door and her date didn’t move, just smiled. 

Hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, Clarke’s dress was out of an episode of Happy Days or something, poodle skirt in place and all. She looked like she was made to be an advertisement for apple pie and the American way circa 1957. It was in that moment that Lexa realized she was dating someone who liked going full into whatever they were going to do. This wasn’t a put together costume— this was precise. 

“Thanks. I wanted to make sure a cool cat like you had a primo date.” 

“This is a lot more comfortable than prom will be.” 

“If I get to go. No one has asked me yet,” Clarke teased.

“I’m sure someone will,” Lexa promised, kissing her finally as she reached the door, eager to have that feeling again. 

“That’s true. I’m a cheerleader. I get asked to prom. And I think I’ll say yes to whoever asks me first.” 

“Good plan.”

“Are you going to come over after?” 

Lexa gulped slightly before nodding, afraid to say to many words. That was tough. 

“No funny business, just wanted to hang out with you alone. It’s been a while since we’ve hung out.” 

“True,” she nodded, smiling as Clarke adjusted the lapels of her jacket.  “But maybe a little funny business.” 

There it was. Clarke smiled a little and then it grew into a lot, spreading wide on her cheeks as she kissed the corner of Lexa’s mouth. It burnt the entirety of her girlfriend’s neck and tips of her ears. Lexa felt like she could breathe because Clarke dispelled her fear with such an off-handed joke, that she tried to remember to be bummed about not having sex. She’d put so much effort into figuring out how she felt about it, it seemed like a waste. 

“Hurry up, Lex!” her mother called from down the stairs. “I can’t wait to see how cute you two are!” 

“Thanks for being around,” Clarke offered before letting go of her girlfriend. “I think this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.” 

“Thanks for letting me touch your boobs. That’s been one of the best things to ever happen to me in my entire life.” 

“Now that’s a compliment.” 

“Yours too,” Lexa smiled before putting her arm over Clarke’s shoulders as they made their way down the stairs to the waiting parents. 

“Oh my! Lexa you look so cute! And Clarke, you are a dream!” 

“I’m not cute, I’m tough,” Lexa explained. 

“I think that’s one of those things that if you say it, it’s not true,” her father offered. “But that jacket does look very cool on you. Grandpa would be absolutely thrilled to have a gay granddaughter greaser.” 

His wife hit his chest as Lexa shook her head and laughed. 

“Alright. I think we’re ready to leave.” 

“Wait wait,” her mother bustled about. “I need some pictures.” 

Lexa groaned despite her girlfriend’s arms wrapping around her waist, always ready for a picture. Somehow, Lexa had pictures of her and Clarke on her phone. She saw pictures of herself on her date’s Instagram. She had a strip of pictures from the photobooth in the winter festival downtown taped beside one of her monitors in her room. Clarke documented and Lexa stopped fighting it. She was someone who wanted to remember now. 

“Mom, we don’t—”

“Just smile. Clarke is humoring me.” 

“Clarke humors everyone.” 

“And that’s why she’s my favorite partner you’ve brought home,” she muttered as she snapped a few pictures. “There. That wasn’t so bad. Was it?” 

“It’s part of the routine,” Clarke reminded her girlfriend. “You just have to let it happen.” 

“I don’t have to like it.” 

“Lexa never did like pictures,” her father explained, looking at a few he took himself on his own phone. “She covered her face in her picture with Santa when she was four.” 

“I’d love to see that,” the cheerleader decided. 

“Nope, it’s gone. Burned. Lost to time and space,” Lexa shook her head, staunchly refusing. She ushered her date toward the door. “Have a good night. Thanks for the jacket. I’ll see you both tomorrow night.” 

“Be home for dinner please!” 

“I will.” 

“Make sure you tell Luna we said—”

The front door shut and Lexa paused before letting out the deep breath she’d been holding in her chest. She still had her arm over Clarke’s shoulder, and she felt the slight chill in the March air, but she didn’t move. 

“That was embarrassing. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t. Your parents are truly some of the coolest people I’ve ever met.” 

“They’re not.” 

“I know you don’t believe that,” Clarke chastised as she opened the passenger side door for her date. “You love them and the attention they give you and the love and support.” 

“Sometimes it’s overwhelming.” 

“Better than underwhelming.” 

“They really like you,” Lexa offered as she put on her seatbelt and the truck roared to life. 

“I bet that’d stop if they knew you were coming over tonight,” she grinned, almost proud to be doing something she shouldn’t. “Or that you propositioned me for a little funny business.” 

All of her blood rushed to her cheek and Lexa felt her brain go through a billion options for what to say next. The real flaw of her innate design being that she then tried to say all billion options at one time and it just left her gaping. 

“But I’d win them back by promising to have nothing but pure intentions with their baby girl.” 

“That’d save me from another safe sex talk.”

Clarke chuckled as she flipped from reverse back to drive and pointed them toward the school gym. 

“Nothing but necking and malts for Lexa Woods. I have a reputation to uphold,” Clarke reminded her as she pressed play so that a feisty little bop started playing on the radio, perfectly in line with the theme of the night. 

Amazed, Lexa looked at the tape deck and then at the girl driving who did a stupid dance to an outrageously peppy song by the Ronettes because Clarke made a soundtrack and it was a movie except it was real, and that was all that mattered. 

Clarke sang along, nudging her girlfriend until she hummed along as well. 

XXXXXXXXXX

“So you admit, it was fun.” 

“It was the most fun I’ve ever had at a dance,” Lexa finally acquiesced as she slid off hr coat and hung it on the banister. 

“I will take all the credit then,” Clarke decided as she kicked off her shoes and made her way down the hall, flipping on lights as she went. “I’m clearly an amazing date to these types of things. I should hire myself out.” 

For a few minutes, Clarke kept going on about the dance, but Lexa was somewhat distracted. She heard her voice, tossed down the hall as she approached, filled with a kind of happiness that was contagious. But Lexa found herself looking around the house that she’d only been in once before, now fully able to enjoy it without fear of running into Clarke’s parents. She wasn’t sure if it was her that was nervous to meet them, or Clarke’s possible fear. 

But now, she gazed at a few pictures on the wall before moving into the modern living room. She always thought her parents were sparse, disinterested decorators, but Clarke’s place took the cake. It was spartan, but on purpose, which Lexa never really understood. Maybe it was the lack of people, maybe it was the night, maybe it was what she already knew, but it didn’t feel as warm as her house, there were no signs of life, and Lexa furrowed as she touched the back of the couch. 

“My mom re-did the whole place,” Clarke interrupted Lexa’s perusal, leaning against the wall closer to the dining room. “It’s for when my dad needs a wheelchair. He can get around better.”

“I wasn’t—”

“It’s not quite right, right?” 

As much as she wanted to lie, Lexa didn’t have it in her. Instead she just shrugged and tried to find something. 

“It’s a beautiful room. It reminds me of something you’d see in a movie. Perfect, you know?” 

“Maybe that’s why I’m so obsessed with making a mess,” Clarke suggested, earning a smile as Lexa approached her slowly, still looking around. “My mom gets so mad, but I leave clothes all over the place, homework, books, trash, cups, just so it seems like we live here.” 

“Maybe you’re just a troublemaker.” 

Pulled back from too much thinking, Clarke snorted but smiled at the accusation. There was a little of that to it all, too, but no one had to know that part. 

“Want to shower? I can grab some snacks.” 

Lexa nodded, disliking the feeling of sweat and hair gel and make up and all of it on her skin, terrified to have to sleep in it. But she didn’t move. Just stood in front of the girl who tentatively reached out her hands and snaked a finger through her belt loops, tugging forward. 

Pressed against Clarke, Lexa anchored her hands on Clarke’s ribs and smiled, eyes darting toward her lips. 

“Can I, uh,” Lexa furrowed, her brain eventually overcoming the haze that happened when she was near Clarke, her brain finally thinking for itself despite how disorienting it was. “I really would like to— There’s... “ she clenched her jaw and took a deep breath. “Don’t move, okay?” 

Amused by the display, Clarke just nodded and watched Lexa overthink too much. She could never really articulate that this was why she enjoyed Lexa; this brain, this honesty, this feeling that nothing else in the world existed. She was quietly consuming. 

But slowly, Lexa leaned forward, and Clarke held her breath when she felt Lexa’s against her skin. And she gripped her fingers tighter. And she closed her eyes when Lexa kissed her cheek, kissed her jaw, moved to her neck. A hand moved to the other side of her throat and it must have felt Clarke gulp as warm lips softly kissed her pulse. Even though her eyes were knit tight, they rolled back at the feeling, taking a few extra seconds to realize it wasn’t happening anymore. 

“Fuck,” she whispered. 

“I, um, I like that. Uh, the. Um,” Lexa nodded slightly, bashful. “I like kissing your neck. I thought about that a lot tonight. You look very pretty.” 

As she said it, eyes roved over Clarke’s face, moved to her own hand that was cupping her neck, and Lexa smiled as her thumb moved along jaw bone. And when Clarke opened her eyes, she smiled involuntarily and pushed hair from her face. 

“That’s a fairly good place to start some funny business. And you should definitely give me a minute.” 

Lexa furrowed and watched the blood rush to Clarke’s cheeks. She could almost feel the burn beneath her fingertips. 

“I’m sorr—” 

A hand went over her mouth as Clarke shook her head and smiled, taking a shaky breath as she got her wits back. 

“I want you to feel comfortable doing whatever you want,” she promised. “And fuck if I didn’t love that. You don’t have to be afraid of me, or messing up, or… I don’t know. You’re allowed to kiss me, however you want.” 

“Like right now or in general?” 

Clarke chuckled and shook her head, letting it flop back against the wall with a thud as she rolled her eyes. She knew the look Lexa had on her face, perplexed and unsure, and she knew the furrow would be there. She knew that all of it would make her hear feel warm. 

“My girlfriend doesn’t need to get a permission slip every time she wants to touch me. In fact, I’d prefer a real blanket level of consent that you trust I’ll stop something I don’t like.” 

“Who’s that?” Lexa furrowed. “Oh. Wait. Me?” 

Clarke sighed and moved her hands to hold Lexa’s ears as she wiggled her head slightly, Lexa’s smile finally coming despite her eagerness to stifle it. 

“If you think you’re woman enough for the job.” 

“And I get to kiss your neck like a lot. And you can sit on my lap at parties. And go to dances together. And all of that?”

“Those are some of the basic requirements, yes, but also not limited to listening to me talk during movies,” Clarke explained, earning a bit of a frown, which just further solidified her affections, “Letting me be your pep squad during soccer and track season.”

“With cookies?” 

“With cookies. And definitely kissing me often. Holding my hand sometimes. Letting me give you rides after work. Being someone I talk to about anything. And definitely letting me grab your butt a lot.” 

“Should I be writing this down?” 

Clarke laughed, her hands slipping slightly as she wrapped her arms around Lexa’s shoulders and hugging her tightly. 

“Just keep being the girl who walked into the diner and texted me all night.” 

“I can do that.” 

“Good.” 

Lexa smiled, her heart racing as she hugged her girlfriend back. She said that word in her head a million times in under a second. It flashed quicker than sound. 

XXXXXXXX

“I feel like a whole new girl. Showers are the best invention of all of human history,” Clarke moaned as she walked into the bedroom, toweling at her wet hair. 

“I’m sure the polio vaccine must be up toward the top. Or electricity. People are nuts about sliced bread.” 

“I stand by my pick for the best invention. Yours are boring.” 

Lexa just rolled her eyes and smiled as she readjusted in Clarke’s bed, crossing her legs and snuggling deeper into the pillows as some old movie she didn’t recognize played on the television. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Clarke finish brushing her hair before clicking off a light and making her way around the bed. Her eyes never left the figure as the room was lit only by the black and white screen. 

“Is this okay? I can stay in the spare?” Clarke offered as she lifted the edge of her duvet. 

“No, no this is… yeah. This is great.” 

“Good.” 

With a quick jump, Clarke was beside her, though they were separated with Lexa outside of the cocoon. Lexa smelled Clarke’s soap and her room and it was more than enough. 

“You called me your girlfriend,” Lexa began after a few moments of quiet. 

“I did. I guess I had been in my head for a while.” 

“I never imagined that I’d be someone’s girlfriend. Or… that you’d be mine. Does that mean you’ll stick around?”

“I really want to.” 

“Even when I’m not�� even when like, my-- I don’t. Even when I-- when I-- when this happens and I can’t say words right?” Lexa finally blurted. 

“Especially then,” Clarke promised. Lexa nodded. 

“Sometimes it’s like my brain doesn’t work right.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Just that it… It sometimes. I know how I feel, but sometimes I can’t get it out.”

“Yeah. I’ve noticed. But when you get there, it’s fantastic.” 

Lexa blushed slightly at the observation, suddenly confused as to how someone saw her and knew these things. She wanted to know what she looked like to Clarke so badly. She wanted to see the things she liked that she hated about herself. She wanted to know who she was to someone like that. Instead she just sighed and offered a small smile. 

“We joke that my sister got all of the feeling. I like movies because they make people feel things.”

“I don’t think you’re bad at saying things. I think you’re precise, and I think people are impatient. But I’d rather hear what you have to say than most people.” 

Clarke watched as her girlfriend furrowed and stared at the movie, her jaw clenching somewhat, the purposefulness of her thoughts wrestling around her brain and playing across her face. And when she turned to her, in the dim light of the bedroom, the movie flashed across her face dramatically. She very much wanted to know what Lexa saw that made her furrow lessen and her smile grow just the slightest. 

“I really like you,” Lexa confessed.

It was very honest. It was exceedingly honest and pure and Clarke knew it because Lexa put so much weight into it and so much thought, debating it from every side before she confessed. 

“See? You’re great with feelings,” Clarke teased. 

“Nah.” 

“I think I might try a page out of your book.” 

“Oh?” 

Clarke moved only slightly to sit up beside Lexa, moving so she was on her knees. She smiled and pressed her hand against her chest, pinning her there gently. 

“Just. Don’t move, okay?” 

Lexa nodded, almost imperceptibly, as if Clarke’s request started immediately. With a small smile, Clarke moved forward, her lips on Lexa’s  softly at first and then deeper. She was kissing her girlfriend, and she was allowed. 

But Lexa wasn’t good at listening. She pushed forward and held Clarke back, enjoying the feeling of her tongue so much she whimpered. It didn’t matter. Clarke straddled her and the covers got tangled and her hands were on hips. She gripped there tightly. 

When lips moved to her neck, Lexa knew she was a goner. There wasn’t anything better in life. She moaned, unsure of why that was a noise she now made. Clarke just smiled. 

“I don’t want to move too quickly,” Clarke muttered. “But you are insanely hot.” 

“It’s not that warm in here.” 

That was it. Lexa ruined it in two minutes. Clarke pulled back and looked at her with an amused smile. She adjusted her glasses, finally tearing her hands from feeling her girlfriends hips. 

“You really don’t know how absolutely sexy you are, do you?” 

“God, me? No,” Lexa scoffed, blushing slightly at the notion, earning a roll of eyes before Clarke leaned forward again. 

Lips moved to the other side of her neck and Lexa fumbled with words she didn’t need, so she kept quiet. Clarke’s hips moved slightly and Lexa felt her thighs shift, making her woozy. 

“When do you want me to stop?” Clarke whispered, her hand somehow halfway up Lexa’s shirt without her noticing until she felt fingertips near her bra. 

“Fuck. Never.” 

Clarke chuckled and pulled away before earning a needy, heady kiss from the girl beneath her. 

“How far are we going?” Clarke asked, breathless and aching. 

“How far can we go?” 

“How far do you want to go?”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. But I want to do something.” 

There was a smile that started on Clarke’s lips despite the honesty Lexa was hopeful was enough. She certainly wasn’t sure what she was allowed to do; she didn’t even know that having a girlfriend meant she had to let her talk through movies, and frankly that part was still concerning and something she wanted to remember to come back to in the near future. 

With a slight shift, Clarke moved so she wasn’t straddling her girlfriend anymore and laid down on the bed beside her, hair drying and making a mess around her. The movie played and didn’t illuminate much, but Lexa saw Clarke start to lift up her shirt, saw her stomach show in the grey of the screen. 

“I didn’t invite you over for funny business,” Clarke promised. “But since we’re here, right?” 

Lexa couldn’t really speak. She just nodded eagerly, her mouth obscenely dry. She wanted water. She wanted to taste Clarke’s hip bones. No sex talk with her parents prepared her for this, and even thinking about their sex talks did nothing to deter her in the slightest. 

“I… I… I don’t know what to do.” 

“What do you want to do?” 

“Can I…?” Lexa shifted, her hand stuttering over Clarke’s at the edge of her shirt. She waited, hovering until she earned a nod. 

Clarke saw the studious face. She saw the hesitation mingling with the dark of the room and the light from the television. She was entranced, oddly vulnerable, and insanely turned on and she wasn’t sure what else was going to happen just that she never trusted anyone as much as Lexa because Lexa looked at her like she was precious and a natural wonder of the world, and no one had a right to look at anyone like that. Never. 

Very slowly, Lexa let her fingertips find Clarke’s skin. She sat up, leaned forward, watched as she touched her in the light of the movie. She moved up along the ridge of ribs there, feeling them buried, feeling them shift and swell as she took a breath. 

With a swallow and a quick look at Clarke, she pushed the shirt a little higher, her breath growing quicker as she did until she stopped. Clarke bit her lip and swallowed what felt like a purr, confused as to why her body did that. But Lexa placed her palm on her rib, ran her thumb along her chest and kissed the other side. 

“Jesus,” Clarke whispered. 

It didn’t seem quite right, that someone could be so tender. She wasn’t fragile, but there was something to be being held like she would break. 

“That’s what you wanted to do?” 

“Yeah,” Lexa smiled, kissing her again, inching the shirt up higher. “One of the things. Thank you for… thanks for going this speed.” 

“What speed is this?” 

“Unsure.” 

Clarke watched Lexa not push her luck. She watched her look at her hand. She felt her kiss her one more time before pulling away and staring back at her, content, as if she was happier than she ever felt she should allow herself to be. 

She held her own hands at her shirt, prepared to take it off. Prepared for much more. But the look on Lexa’s face was perfect, and before she could decide, Lexa shifted and laid down beside her, kissing her neck, kissing her jaw, running her nose along her cheek before kissing the corner of her mouth. 

“You’re going to kill me, Woods.” 

“Shut up and kiss me.” 

“You can’t talk to me like that, I’m your girlfriend.” 

Lexa beamed, even with her eyes closed. Fingertips tickled along Clarke’s ribs and a leg shifted against her hip. 

“I really need you to write me a rule book.”

next

[mojoflower]

Genderswap (&/or Rule 63) in my Various Fandoms:  fic recs

Teen Wolf

turn the tires toward the street by leahalexis E, 7k.

He’s got it really bad for Dara Hale. He knows this, okay?He wishes he could protect her, which is stupid, because she’s got an inch of height and twenty-five pounds of sheer muscle on him, not to mention the supernatural strength and speed and healing.“What do you want, Stiles?” she says, voice breaking. She finally opens her eyes, and they’re bright and wet, eyelashes spiky with tears.--Dara Hale, Stiles Stilinski, a dark alley, and a question of trust.

Huh, interesting. Usually I have trouble with Derek as a girl (and in this case, it was doubly weird, because my little sister's name is Dara, and while she's nearly 6-feet tall, she's also very skinny and pale and red-headed and so very not-sexy, eww) but I really enjoyed the dynamic of Stiles being - while still male - shorter, slighter, completely virginial, and looking to Derek (Dara) for experience and guidance. Author described it really well. (Also, when she was rimming Stiles, whew, holy wow.)

Switching Goals by betp E, 4k.

“You’re kind of cute,” Lydia says, changing the subject, “in a sort of… lost baby squirrel in a pixie cut sort of way.”  //  “Great,” he says, fumbling ineptly with the clasp on the bra. “Th… thanks, Lydia, that’s… quite the endorsement. I’m vermin.”  //  Lydia and Erica peaceably watch him fuck around with the hooks for a full five minutes, this look on their faces like justice is finally being delivered. Stiles refuses to lose his temper with the thing in front of them, so he just doggedly keeps at it. Eventually, Lydia says, “We might have to invest in a frontal clasp for you.”

Lol.

Stiles can’t argue with him, because Derek is touching him and it’s distracting. “Have you touched yourself?”

“A little,” admits Stiles. He swallows, watches Derek’s wrist intently. “I mean, it was mostly exploratory—for science. It wasn’t really, uh. Sensual. I tried, but I haven’t, um.” He stops. Derek’s fingers glide right in, and Stiles’ mouth drops open. “God, that’s wet,” he exclaims, pinched. “Oh, jesus. Can you—put your dick in there, just—”

“Let’s not rush it,” says Derek absently. Pulls his fingers out and they’re soaked.

“B-but I wa, I want… Don’t put those in your mouth, oh my god.” He stares, outraged, as Derek deliberately disobeys him, eyes shut. Stiles darts a hand down where Derek’s fingers were, just to feel. He’s never produced his own lube before; he’s definitely gonna miss that. “What, um. What does it taste like.”

Derek smirks. “Like you,” he says, and then before Stiles can react, Derek’s mouth is on him.

don't carry it all by grimm E, 7k.

There had been, Stiles tells his father carefully, a mix-up at Deaton's. 'A mix-up,' his father says flatly, and Stiles says, 'yeah.'

Maybe 'mix-up' was the wrong word to use. 'A flub of extraordinary proportions,' maybe, or, 'a fuck-up the likes of which you've never seen,' or maybe even, 'a crazy stupid amount of magic that ricocheted off Deaton's ward, mutated, and turned me into a girl.' Scott hadn't stopped laughing until Stiles kneed him in the balls, which had been oddly satisfying. Allison had given him a high-five.

Very nice, and surprisingly angsty: Stiles was really breaking my heart for the first half, so worried about Derek being mad at him and upset because his dad can't look at him since he looks just like his mama. Emotional hurt/comfort and gorgeous sex.

They Say It Should Be Someone You Really Love by winter_rogue E, 2.3k.

"Derek, tell me you’re the frog who’s going to get us out of the frying pan"

Well, well. Genderswap AND sex pollen. This is more a little slice of time than a complete story, but it's hot!

Girl Trouble by sffan E, 9k.

“Dude. You have boobs,” Scott replies, staring at Stiles’ chest.  //  “What?” Stiles puts hands on his chest, pauses a moment, and then cups his breasts. He pulls the neck of shirt out, and looks inside. “What the fuck, I have boobs! And what the hell has happened to my voice?”  //  “It’s an octave lower?” Derek deadpans, raising an eyebrow.

Exactly what you want from a Stiles-is-suddenly-a-girl fic. Delicious.

wax all the floors and open the trap doors by leahalexis T, 25k.

“We had a good thing going here, Derek!" Stiles said, her voice high and a little hysterical. "Like a buddy cop movie! With the sniping, and the—no kissing! There is no kissing in buddy cop movies!”  //  Jackson’s no longer a kamina, but Erica and Boyd are still missing. There’s a whole month left of school. Scott and Allison aren’t talking. And Stiles is pretty positive that Derek is gay.  //  Or she was, anyway. Pre-kissing.

This Stiles is hilarious: oblivious and chirpy and socially inept and dangerously curious and independant. Her friendship with Scott and Lydia are perfect, and not-gay Derek is kind of hilarious in his understated way. No sex yet, but I'm looking forward to the sequel....

Nothing Like Real Life by nightanddaze E, 14k.

Derek fucks the fairies up, but they fuck him up too. Stiles tries pretty unsuccessfully to keep his eyes and hands to himself. 


Interesting. Kind of sharp and hard-edged. Derek becomes a girl, but he's still a dick, and he lets Stiles fuck him, but it's pretty cold. And yet. Stiles keeps hand-washing his bras, though.

Air on a G String by rufflefeather E, 21k.

A Maenad is after Lydia, and when she doesn't get what she wants, she takes it out on Stiles.  //  Or the one where Stiles suddenly has lady bits and he's not quite sure what to do with them.

Het!sex is hot. Who knew?

Sink Us to Swim by mklutz T, 37k.

“Stiles,” Laura says, gently, “When all of this is over, when the rogue is taken care of, I think – I hope that your dad will join our pack. He’s always treated Derek and me almost like family, and I’d like to return the favor if I can. It’s fine,” she asserts, then corrects, “I’m going to make sure it’s fine.”

Heh, girl Stiles is a cutie.

Merlin

More Lovely and More Temperate by Saucery E, 10k.

Really, it was ridiculous to think that he couldn't handle a bit of drink, just because he was a woman. Arthur was getting sick and tired of attentive and semi-petrified knights trying to pry him away from his ale. He was Crown Prince, damn it - or Princess, for now - and he could celebrate his twenty-first birthday as he sodding well pleased.

"You're embarrassing yourself," hissed Merlin, after the good Sir Gawain caught himself staring down Arthur's bodice, went red in the face, and staggered away from the table like a man in fear for his sanity.  //  "I'm enjoying myself." Poor Gawain. He was such easy prey.  //  "You're flaunting your breasts."  //  "Isn't that what they're for? Morgana flaunts hers an awful lot."  //  Merlin's face contorted in an interesting way, and he glanced around the hall as if to check for Morgana's presence. "I can't believe you just said that," he whispered fiercely, "and also, I can't believe you're competing with Morgana over... over this!"  //  We've always competed, ever since we were children. Drove Father quite mad."  //  "I can imagine," Merlin muttered.  //  "And mine are bigger, anyway. They are, aren't they?"

Fuck. Me. That was so hot. Favorite.

Melinna by doomcanary M, 26k

Merlin learns the hard way that magic has a mind of its own. And sometimes, a body too...

Fun romp: Merlin gets stuck as a girl for a while, hijinks ensue (including a steamy one-off with Morgana). In the third one, Gwen is accidentally turned into a boy (which Lancelot finds very hot). In the fourth one, everyone is inexplicably in a sultan's palace (and harem) and Merlin keeps involuntarily switching between Merlin and Melinna. Melinna's funny, just like Merlin, really, irreverent and utterly unconcerned with how a woman is SUPPOSED to act.

Who Ever Desired by novemberlite E, 3k.

It was always meant to happen, but never this way.  //  or  //  Basic girl!Merlin/Arthur porn, really.

Whoa, Nellie. Hot!

Dewiniaeth by claire_debonair E, 31k.

Nimueh is set on destroying the Pendragons, yet again. They do say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all, and this time it's Merlin who bears the brunt of her scheming. Fairy tale princess he is not.

So.... Nimeuh turns Merlin into a girl and says he has to fuck Arthur to turn back... but it'll kill Arthur. Be warned that Merlin tries it first with a sweet OC, Garath, but that doesn't work. Arthur doesn't really make it into the story until the second third, and the sexual tension between them is pretty hot. Story loses a little coherency after they do the deed, but that's alright.

Walks In Beauty by burkesl17 E, 9.7k.

They all stared at Arthur's chest and that was when Merlin's brain really registered the thinner face, the smooth throat and he said feelingly, “Oh shit.” Gender switch, crack, true love, duels of honour and someone who really, really doesn't want to wear a dress.

Great genderswitch story. Arthur really, REALLY doesn't like it, and poor Merlin is going crazy, since they've only been lovers for a couple of months, and although he prefers men, female Arthur is hot.

In Turning We Come Around Right by janne_d M, 13k.

Arthur wakes up changed - and that changes everything else.

Poor Arthur is mortified by his new female body, and not only that, if anyone finds out, he'll lose his position as heir, which is far more serious. So Merlin takes care of him while he's locked in his room, and desperately searches for a cure, and meanwhile, UST and the ST, and mixed signals and serious hotness. Lovely.

The Course of True Love by Puckling E, 44k.

After Nimueh's death Albion needs a High Priestess, but what it's got is Merlin. Fortunately he'll serve after a few...modifications. Unfortunately for Merlin, being turned into a woman would be enough of a shock even without becoming the High Priestess. As is, it's his duty to sleep with the king or doom all of Albion.

44k words. Great story: Merlin becomes female after killing Nemueh, and it turns it it's because the Old Religion needs a new High Priestess now that he killed the old one. Simple solution, huh? Arthur finds out at an awkward time, Merlin is freaked 'cause he thinks he's going to have to have sex with Uther (so much nope, you don't even). His magic likes Arthur, surrounds him in a misty golden cloud and connects the two with a purring golden bond. His magic feels rather differently about Uther, who's surrounded in a pulsing black hole of yuck. Story might have started a little slow (or I could just have been tired and distracted), but soon picks up speed. Funny, sexy and interesting. What's not to love? *** Puckling is actually here on AO3, but doesn't have this particular story up, sadly. Keep checking: maybe it'll happen. Meanwhile, the site linked is an easy format to read.

The Prince's Mistress by thegirl M, 98k.

When Uther declared war on the Old Religion after the death of his wife in childbirth, he was warned that there would be consequences to his crusade beyond his worst nightmares. But Uther ignored these warnings, and the purge continued. If he'd known the price his people would pay for his vendetta, perhaps he would have been more wary.  //  Twenty years have passed since the great purge began, and Uther's subjects have grown barren. Fewer children are born with each passing year, until the very future of the Kingdom was endangered. In a final attempt to save Camelot, Uther decreed that men of the noble class were allowed to take mistresses without fear of condemnation. The social class from which the mistress originated didn't matter, as long as she was able to bear an heir - an heir that would be recognised and legitimised by the court.  //  Merlin, having been raised outside Camelot, knew little of these problems. If she had, she'd have thought twice before she saved the prat of a prince's life and was made his mistress as a 'reward' by Uther.

A fill from a kinkmeme prompt, which focuses on an canon AU where Merlin is a girl, Arthur's mistress, and the only hope for a waning Camelot.

Interesting premise. Merlin is a little frustrating, the way she just accepts, without angst, being a broodmare right away (there's no smexy times, really, this could easily be T), but other then that it's fast-paced and engaging. I'll keep an eye out for the series.

a tree and a bee and a flea, fiddle-dee-dee by Signe (oxoniensis) M, 8k.

Arthur is a princess. And other things he doesn't appreciate.

Love it. Hee, hee.

Just The Tip by Kateri E, 4k.

"Just the tip" Arthur asks of his now female manservant. "Please, just the tip"

 Marvel

Charlotte Francine Xavier by Blind_Author E, 72k.

Written for a prompt. A look at how the events of the movie would have changed if Charles was a woman. Very dark subject matter - past child abuse, past rape, mentions of the Holocaust.

Wow, this was very intense and very good. I LOVE how incredibly powerful Charlotte is, and how Erik slowly learns and accepts that, and how peaceful it makes HIM, to know that.

Dust on a Butterfly's Wings by cakeisnotpie M, 37k.

Miss Claire Francis Clinton Barton has a problem; calling in a favor from an old family friend seems like the best answer. Little does she know the events set in motion by one simple visit to the Coulson town home will lead her into a dangerous world. Lord Phillip Coulson, the Duke of Argyll is in need of a wife; all of his careful planning doesn't foresee Claire showing up on his doorstep and turning his life upside down. A steampunk Victorian alternate world with vampires, werewolves, magic, and mysticism and right in the middle of it all, Phil Coulson and a female Clint Barton. Oh, and a female Tony Stark, but that makes infinite sense, all things considered.

This was interesting: it took me a while to put all the strands together, but things moved fast once I did. I really love the ending.

Heart of Iron & Ice by darkseraphina E, 20k.

Antonia Stark was born a girl...and changed the world by not having a dick. Who knew? Also, she's a Guide. Tony still ends up in a cave in Afghanistan with iron in her heart and a box of scraps, and she still escapes. With style. And explosions - lots of explosions. Meeting a viking god from another realm - who's also a Sentinel - in the desert? Not part of her life plan. Good thing she's an engineer - and that he's very pretty. Tony likes pretty things.

Delightful little romp.

Amateur Theatrics by galaxysoup T, 27k.

In which Thor’s primary problem-solving method (a mighty blow from Mjolnir) fails to have the desired effect on a magical artifact, and his secondary method (a mightier blow from Mjolnir) proves to be actively disastrous.

Clint makes the absolute best Loki Daddy-uncle-brother-guardian-whatever. And kid!Loki is sweet as a pie. More or less.  [The genderswap here, Tony turns female, is brief and incidental.]

The Hobbit (always a girl!bilbo is very popular for some reason)

Durin's League by hobbitgrl E, 73k.

When the mysterious Durin's League takes the national spotlight in the battle against the super-powered villains of the Smaug Corporation Bilbo Baggins doesn't think much of it. At least not until Thorin Oakenshield crashes through her living room wall and Gandalf tells her she's their only hope.

Oh, good story. Much more intense than I'd expected, things are BAD, and there is violence and misunderstandings and hot het sex. Original! ***** But now she stood before an army, each hand coated in a glowing blue light that reflected and sparkled off the silvery material of her shirt. Perhaps, if she could have seen herself, she would have felt better knowing she stood tall—a warrior who gave hope to everyone around her, a beacon of courage and power that outshone even Kili. She was Bilbo Baggins: the dragonslayer.But Bilbo couldn’t see herself and she only knew she was choking on her heart, adrenaline making the world sharp and slow as she faced down overwhelming odds. So Bilbo did what she always did—she took a deep breath, braced herself, and met it head on.

Distances Both Physical and Emotional by The Feels Whale (miscellea) T, 32k.

There are no words adequate to describe the Last Homely House or the wonders of Lord Elrond’s hospitality, which seems impossible to strain even under the burden of thirteen empty dwarfish stomachs and their even more trying attitudes.  //  Having played hostess to those same stomachs in her time, Briar is duly impressed and endeavors to add to the burden as little as possible. This is made somewhat more difficult by the fact that elves, apparently, are better able to differentiate between hobbit gentlemen and hobbit ladies that dwarves seem to be. A fact Briar learned when Lord Elrond pulled her to one side after their meal and put her into the hands of his daughter and her women with a gentle smile.  //  Briar feels that she probably owes him a swift kick in the shins for that.

Huh, this is my first fem!Bilbo (Briar) story, and I really enjoyed it. The dwarves mistaking her for a him is pretty funny, and it's easy to see how it snowballs until it's easier for her to just let it go. Part 1 is Briar's POV (includes a little snogging etc.... might be a gentle T). Part 2 is Thorin's of the same events, but none of the same details, so it's not like reading the whole thing twice. Thorin notes that Hobbits as a species have a native magic to remain hidden, which explains the success of their burglar as well as the fact that when in Hobbiton, you can only go in circles going nowhere until guided by a Hobbit. And there are some cultural things during the visit with the elves that are very interesting. (I'd call Part 2 a G.)

The Tale of the Birds by pagination  G, 75k, WIP.

Four little hobbits went Adventuring. Bilba Baggins, sent to bring them back, found four little hobbit birds instead. Transformed along with a pair of dwarves by a batty wizard, their only hope is a spell that hasn't been performed in an Age. Bilba is a Baggins, which means Responsibility--and if traveling across Middle-Earth, dealing with ridiculously overprotective elves, and outsmarting a nutty king is what it takes, then that is simply what she'll have to do.  //  But goodness, she really could have done without this irritating dwarf prince!

This. Was SO DELIGHTFUL. Even if it ends before Thorin and Bilba ever meet face to face. Bilba is a HOOT, arching her way across half of Middle Earth to help her little hobbit (and dwarf) bird-friends. Everyone she meets along the way falls in love, she's such a unique, fiery, precious little thing. I dearly hope the author continues [19/?] someday, 'cause I can't wait to see what she and Thorin think of each other. (Even though everyone but Gandalf, Beorn and the hobbit-birds thinks she's a he.) Delightful.

Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves by ISeeFire T, 322k.

Bilba has been a slave her entire life. All she knows of the outside world is what she sees from time to time outside the gates of Moria and the stories her mother used to tell her. Stories of a place called the Shire where her mother once lived and a placed called Erebor where, as far as she knows, her father still lives. Stories of dragons a thousand times larger, and more intelligent, than the beasts the orcs rode and of a strange concept called freedom where one was allowed to live as they wished with no one to tell them what they could, or could not do.  //  The stories meant little to Bilba. The only future she had was to live, and die, as a slave as countless number had before her.  //  And then the orcs dragged an injured female firedrake through the gates, her rider screaming obscenities behind her as he fought to reach her side...and everything changed.

OH. Fuck. Me.

This was intense... and lovely, and dense and fast-paced and never ever lagged. I very nearly didn't read it, because it's not a pairing I follow, but dragons.... I thought it'd wallow in the slave thing, but it didn't at all, and Bilba, in spite of what's happened to her (and terrible terrible things have happened, don't doubt it -- although none of them were sexual, which was a relief) is STRONG, in spite of (and because of) being fucked up.

Each race of Middle Earth has an associated species of dragon, and certain people can form bonds with them, able to communicate telepathically w/the dragon and also with other riders. This is important, since Bilba's tongue was cut out some indeterminate time ago (she was born into slavery in the mines of Moria). When she finally stumbles free with the infant dragon, she winds up in the Shire for a couple of years... it's a loooong time, many years, before she meets Fili. She spends the interim being fucking badass and slaughtering Orcs left and right and basically being a thorn in the side of Azog, who used to own her.

But when you think that arc is done, there's another, and then another, and holy hell it gets intense, and shit keeps raining down. POV skips around a lot, and everyone is involved, all the races, and the author has their own plot, only borrowing loosely from canon. This was amazing, and is less about the pairing than it is about Bilba learning that there's another world out there, aside from rage and pain, and learns what's worth fighting for, and is able to direct and use her anger.

I loved this.  (Dragon AU.)

Hurricanes in Hertford, Hereford, and Hampshire by 61Below M, 126k.

Bilbo was banished. That's it, the end. She wants nothing more to do with dwarves. Now all she needs to do is get back home, but there may be some complications along the way.

Oh, fuck ME, this was fantastic, and moved so quickly, I just devoured it today, and I'm still kind of gasping. You think it's just going to be pregnant Bilbo going home and misunderstanding and resolution with a cute baby, but no, nope, that's just the beginning, and then the real journey starts. Author melds this with LOTR, so that it's Bilbo making the journey to Mordor, Thorin by her side, and the cast is so RICH and nuanced and the interactions between dwarves, elves, hobbits, men and wizards is lovely with a lot of background (and also RADAGAST, can I just say RADAGAST, he's such a fucking spacey cutie and he takes Gandalf's place in some ways that make a lot of sense, although Gandalf is around, too). Just, this is a great story, read it, author has definitely done her reading. (Also, I love the way author writes sex, it's an interesting style to choose, but it definitely works.)

Dear Mr. Oakenshield by Ridel No Rating, 1.2k.

Lobelia Sackville-Baggins is exactly the sort of person who thinks all problems can be solved with a good scolding and a clip around the ear hole.  //  But the Dwarf who'd taken advantage of her cousins affections and sent her home in disgrace is hundreds of miles away. Oh well, an angry letter will have to suffice.

Omg, I want to see Thorin's reaction to this letter SO BADLY!!! (I don't think I've ever liked Lobelia Sackville-Baggins quite this much ever before.)

Harry Potter

Take These Lies by white_serpent M, 34k.

Repeatedly rejected by the Auror training programme, Draco Malfoy attempts an unorthodox method of gaining admission. Written for 2010 hd_fan_fair (travel), following scarlet_malfoy's prompt. Note: contains genderswap and dubious consent, both of which were requested in the prompt.

Omg, I LOVED this. Draco is sharp as a tack, and determined to find a way to get into the Aurors despite the rampant prejudice against purebloods and Slytherins. He thinks his disguise as Aquila (really, Draco, another constellation name?) is foolproof, but a number of people see through it. (All girls: Hermione, Luna and Ginny), but Ron and Harry are oblivious. And Harry starts crushing. Then it all culminates in a final project in Training: acting as honeymooners while on an Alaskan cruise (which makes cruises sound as uncomfortable, boring and crowded as I've always imagined them to be) trying to solve a pretend crime. All the awkwardness you'd expect, what with Draco not ACTUALLY BEING HIMSELF. However, a real crime comes along, and the disguise is ruined.... Altogether a fast-paced, original, entertaining story with well-developed characters and a soupcon of ust and rst (although not quite as much as I'd like).

I've been on a Draco turned into a girl kick, and there's a huge dearth in this trope. But this one story (even if it's self-inflicted) purely satisfied a need.

The Changing Lights by lazywonderland E, 130k, WIP

Harry returns for an eighth year following the end of the war and soon realizes that although he's put his own animosity towards Malfoy aside, no one else seems to have done the same. When a hex leaves his oldest rival in the body of a female and ridicule doubles, Harry discovers that his hero complex is a difficult thing to fight.

Read through Ch. 4 (dying of UST) and hit subscribe so fast:  this is gonna be awesome!

Star Trek

Girl, You're Like a Weird Vacation by leupagus T, 8k.

It takes a lot of persuading to get "Spock" and "shore leave" to interact on any meaningful level.  //  "I am unclear as to why you wish me to participate in your, as Dr. McCoy puts it, 'whoremongering' while on Risa," she says, not even doing Jim the favor of looking away from her console.  //  Jim makes a kind of strangled noise. Bones is such an asshole. "First of all, it's not whoremongering, it's more like--"  //  "Also, it is irresponsible to have the commanding officer, the second in command, the chief medical officer, and the chief communications officer all absent from the ship simultaneously," she says smoothly. "There are numerous regulations, in fact, that prohibit such action."

Awwww.

Spock's Vagina by bigmamag E, 18k.

Spock exhibits increasingly strange behavior after a transporter malfunction and Jim wants to know why. Good thing nature has a flair for revealing the most asinine of secrets...

Lovely! Not as cracky as it sounds, Spock's actually in DANGER b/c of his new vagina, and Jim is worried sick. Angst, HOT sex... made of yum.  Favorite.

Supernatural

Fade to Black by bbelle E, 39k.

Dean always told himself that his feelings for Cas were brotherly. But now that Cas was temporarily parked in a hot female body, he couldn't deny it any longer. Which raised all sorts of issues, not the least of which was what would happen when Cas returned to his old form.

Wow, amazing story from a first-time writer. Dean and Castiel are hot and heavy while he's a chick, but when he switches back, Dean is swamped in a lifetime of being afraid and in the closet. There's a good bit of angst before they finally succumb (which is very hot, whoa).

A Blessing by Valinde (Valyria) E, 132k, WIP.

In which Dean and Sam are turned into women by a witch's curse and even though he's kind of distracted what with the Apocalypse and all, Dean comes to a few awkward realizations about his feelings for Castiel.  //  Set in Season 5. Temporary Genderbend fic. Apoc fic. Slow build destiel, not a pwp.

Oh, fuck this is amazing and intense and hot and just utterly gripping, and I hope to god the author is serious about being contacted if you want the rest of the story.... Favorite.  Worth reading even though it’s unfinished.

Attack On Titan

A Choice With No Regrets by Blue Sonnet (Nana_41175) E, 45k.

Bedding the Commander will not be easy...  //  How will a thug from the royal capital be able to walk forward alongside Humanity's Strongest, especially when the thug is a woman in disguise and in love with the Commander?

Fem Levi is lovely... still rather reacting to everything like a "scalded cat": slow to trust, sharply sarcastic, utterly shameless (which translates to loads of fantastic sex). But that's fine, because Erwin is getting exactly what he wanted... now he just has to make sure he doesn't lose it.

[halothenthehorns]

GRYFFINDOR VS RAVENCLAW

"I really think we should go to bed after this chapter," Lily voted, glancing at the clock for a moment and taking a worried glance over at Remus, who was rubbing furiously at his eyes; and not for the fate of Scabbers she knew.

"It's a bit early," Harry disagreed, clearly not noticing the same thing but still eying the book with undisguised hope. She could tell something was bothering him, but the fact that he hadn't voiced it out loud meant whatever it was he knew he couldn't fully discuss without having a headache. She didn't press him for it, but instead said, "well, it would do us all some good to turn in for the night, we've had a rather long day I think." Knowing it would come up again at the end anyways, she went on and started her chapter without anymore protest.

Ron and Hermione's friendship seemed to be over.

They all winced in horror at what this could really mean. If Ron and Hermione really never did makeup for this then that would mean that Harry would have to choose one of his friends in the end, a fate no one was hoping for. Harry was so distracted by this that it finally clouded over his annoying little insistence Scabbers wasn't dead at all and gave him something new to focus on.

They were so angry at the other, Harry wasn't even sure how they could begin to make up.

"Can't rightly blame Ron," Sirius frowned, "but I really hope he cares more about Hermione's accident then Scabbers fate."

"You saying if I'd let my owl eat yours you'd forgive me?" James couldn't help but tease.

Sirius pretended to deliberate for a moment before asking, "did he try to attack mine several times before he'd done it?"

"Yes," James agreed at once.

"Then absolutely not!" Sirius cried in mock outrage, turning away and crossing his arms as dramatically as he possibly could.

"You two put on a good show," Remus snickered, "but I'm afraid the two who needed that lesson aren't here. Good try though."

Ron was insisting it was all Hermione's fault for never having taken Crookshanks trying to eat Scabbers seriously,

"Which she really should have back when she bought him," Lily sighed loudly before Sirius could say anything.

and Hermione told Ron to try looking under his bed rather than blaming the rest of the world.

"Really Hermione?" James groaned. "She can't really believe that! You don't think Ron tried that before he came tearing down the stairs?"

Hermione was insisting Ron was overreacting, those hairs could have been there since their break,

"Yeah, I'm sure Ron just cuddles with those in his bed, never would have made sure to get rid of them," Remus rolled his eyes.

and how Ron had hated her cat ever since it crashed into his head at the store.

"Well yeah," Harry scoffed, though his own distil at how daft Hermione was being was minimal to how upset he really felt at his two friends possibly losing their friendship.

Harry was on Ron's side, and tried to give Hermione the facts, but then Hermione lost it at Harry too.

"Urho," Sirius winced, already knowing Hermione's attitude was likely to spike.

She screamed at Harry for always siding with Ron, that everything was just her fault.

That left all five of them shrinking into themselves a little, realizing they may have been picking on Hermione a little too much this year on top of everything else she's been dealing with.

Ron was very torn up about his pet,

"Saw that coming," Lily sighed in pity, knowing quite well how much someone could care for their pet.

and Fred chose the wrong way to cheer him up by reminding Ron how he always called him useless,

"Ron was just doing that to complain, I highly doubt he meant it," Sirius winced, the twins clearly weren't doing a very good job of cheering their brother up this time.

and how he'd been getting old for how long? It was kinder this way, one bite and he hadn't felt a thing.

"Merlin, none of the Weasley's really know what comforting someone means do they?" Lily sighed.

Ron was still depressed as he reminded Harry that Scabbers had once bit Goyle.

"I do," James brightened at once with a wide grin.

"The rats proudest moment to date," Remus agreed fondly.

Fred agreed that the scar on the Slytherin's hand would be a testament to his life.

Sirius couldn't help but snicker, feeling like now the twins were on the right track to making Ron feel better.

Then Fred added on Ron could just go and buy another rat whenever he wanted.

"And that just killed it," Sirius huffed.

Harry decided to get his friend's mind off of it by giving him that promised ride on his Firebolt.

"If that doesn't cheer him up nothing will," James perked up at once.

Ron agreed he'd like to try and shoot some goals,

"Wonder if Ron's going to try out for the team next year?" Sirius grinned, remembering how Wood was going to be gone at the end of the year which would leave a place open for a bodily enthusiastic player.

and so they left for the pitch, finding Hooch who was just as keen at Harry's new broom as anyone.

"But of course," Remus nodded in complete understanding, "she's as much a nut as any of us."

She spent quite some time fantasizing about some of the other models as well, telling how a flaw of the Nimbus line was that they began to drag after a few years,

"Something I've noticed," James agreed with a roll of his eyes, a few things coming to mind he'd like to try and improve upon that.

and an older model called Silver Arrows, which they'd stopped making.

"Really?" Sirius asked in surprise. "Guess that must have stopped not too long from now."

"Better cling to them while you can then," Remus frowned.

She kept going for so long that it took Wood cutting in asking if they could get to their warmups.

"Oh, but she was enjoying herself," Lily giggled, finding this just as mundane then if James had gone on like this, but at least it was keeping their mind on more pleasant things.

Wood began by telling Harry about the startup Ravenclaw team, the Seeker of whom was Cho Chang.

Harry felt a funny sort of swooping feeling in his gut, quite apart from the little tick of his memory being replaced with yet another name he was sure he felt some kind of connection to. The feeling was so foreign though that he didn't think long on it.

He hadn't been expecting that, as she'd been in the hospital wing for something, but Wood scowled as he told of her recovery in time clearly to his displeasure.

"The horror," Lily scowled, her annoyance at Wood still managing to grow the longer this carried on.

He then said that the best model that team had was a Comet Two Sixty, which paled next to Harry's Firebolt, then he got them all in the air.

"What an enjoyable pep talk," James rolled his eyes.

Harry finally got to live his dream and soared through the air, where his broom responded to the lightest of touches, and went so fast the rest of the world blurred.

All four boys sighed, more pleased than they could ever put into words that such a broom could exist, and also silently agreeing Lily was hardly putting the right amount of enthusiasm into describing this momentous event.

He flew around so fast, he spun from one end of the field to the other, dive bombed the ground, then shot off into the air just as fast.

"Mom," Harry half groaned half laughed, "nothing happened, I didn't fall off. Quite sounding like you're reading about me riding on a dragon."

Lily gave him a maternal glare, like 'I'll worry as much as I want to young man' but she did marginally relax, which is why she may not have noticed Harry's odd little frown, trying to understand why he'd used that particular comparison.

Wood released the Snitch then, and Harry gave it a few moments head start before darting around and catching it seconds later.

James was bouncing around in unrestrained glee, unable to put into words how happy this was making him. His son finally being able to properly enjoy flying around on the best broom like he should have been able to do all the way back during his first year.

He released it, turned away again, and when he came back found it not moments later and made another easy catch.

"That's it," Sirius declared, "Lily needs to give up the book now, there is no way you should be able to read in such a bland tone of voice about something so momentous."

"I'm proud Harry's doing so well," Lily rebuked, "but I'm not going to feel any better about this until he actually manages to get through one bleeding game without something awful happening."

Sirius huffed and grumbled she was missing the point while Lily decided to ignore him.

Wood was nearly crying in pleasure, saying if they played like this there was no way they could lose, then he hesitated and asked Harry about his dementor problem.

"He's certainly in more control of it," Remus nodded encouragingly when he saw Harry look hesitant at the question.

Harry agreed, keeping to himself he wasn't at the level he'd like, but saying aloud he could handle it.

"You'll do fine," James soothed at once. "I am positive that shouldn't happen again, but if it does you are more than prepared for it this time."

Fred convinced the lot of them it wouldn't even be a problem, Dumbledore would go mad.

"And there's that," Sirius nodded in agreement, his ill feelings towards the headmaster not lingering too much on this subject, he liked to think he still had faith in the man to do this simple task.

The rest of the team turned to leave, but Harry stayed out a bit later so Ron could have his go, while Hooch had fallen asleep in the stands.

"Oh she's doing a great job at guard duty," Lily scowled in annoyance.

"You're in a bad mood," James noted lightly, "you do know there's nothing for Harry to be guarded from."

"I know," Lily snapped, "I just don't appreciate her taking her job so lightly."

Ron looked like he was going to explode from happiness as Harry handed the broom over,

"Perfectly understandable," Sirius nodded.

and spent as much time as possible flying through the air, only stopping when Hooch woke up and told the boys off for not waking her up and telling them to get back to school.

"Well she's quite the killjoy," Remus smirked, noting Lily only looked marginally happier at this.

They walked off, still chatting happily, when Harry spotted the eyes.

Sirius couldn't help but startle happily, suddenly wishing Ron wasn't there, suddenly hoping against hope he might finally be getting his chance to really talk to Harry.

Harry froze as he looked at the glowing orbs, but Ron dragged out his wand and used the Lumos spell, spotting Crookshanks.

"Damn," Sirius scowled, his anger possibly a little more than was necessary at his want being dashed because of that cat, his actions in eating Scabbers not exactly one hundred percent forgiven even if it was in his nature.

Ron lost his temper at once, trying to chuck the nearest available rock, but he hadn't even swung when the cat disappeared again.

"Least he was smart enough not to do that," Remus sighed, knowing it would only make problems worse if Ron really had hurt Hermione's cat.

Ron stamped off in a temper now, exclaiming how Hermione still wasn't handling this, and that cat had probably been eating someone else's pet as dessert. Harry wasn't really listening anymore, too ashamed at his automatic reaction in thinking that had been the Grim.

"If only," James grumbled, knowing he'd have much rather that been another Sirius sighting then a rekindling of annoyance.

The next morning Harry went down to breakfast encircled by his team while he carried his broom, all of the players seeming to think the Firebolt needed an honor guard.

Sirius' bad temper only increased when he realized yet again he was getting skipped off of a Quidditch chapter.

When they entered the Great Hall, Harry's good mood increased when he caught sight of the Slytherin team.

James was willing to let it go that he hadn't gotten this chapter just to hear about this one small moment of pleasure.

They made it to the Gryffindor table, where Wood had Harry put the broom in the center of the table.

Lily couldn't help making a little 'tsk' of annoyance at these boys fawning over a broom like this, admittedly projecting a lot of her bad feelings of Harry and Ron continuing to treat Hermione the way they were on anything associated with the game.

Several admirers from other houses came over to have a look, including Percy's girlfriend from Ravenclaw house Penelope. Percy made the joke she shouldn't sabotage the broom while she looked it over.

"Well if she does, then Percy's dating a girl far more interesting than he is," Sirius snorted.

"You're an idiot," Remus told him pleasantly.

He told the others that they had a bet running on today's game, ten Galleons to the victor. Before he joined Penelope at her table though, he quickly told Harry that it would be good if he won, because he didn't have ten Galleons.

James couldn't help snickering a bit at that, having no doubts in his mind his son would win and that wouldn't be a problem.

Then a less welcomed person arrived, asking if Harry could handle that broom.

"Far better than you could," Sirius sneered.

"Sadly I wouldn't be all that surprised if Malfoy actually came to school next year with a Firebolt as well," James frowned.

Harry returned he was more than confident he could, and Malfoy shot back that he hoped they'd installed a parachute on the broom, so that when dementors appeared he wouldn't fall as bad again.

"And that joke is still not funny," Remus rolled his eyes in contempt.

Harry wished Malfoy could install an extra arm on his broom, to catch the Snitch for him.

Which caused all four of them to release a gale of laughter for that comment. Lily couldn't deny hers one bit, as even if she is agitated at her son for the way he was acting, she'd be a right hypocrite for not admiring his mouth right then as often as she shot back at anyone who annoyed her.

Malfoy sulked away, and the Slytherins converged on him, probably to make sure that was a real Firebolt over there.

"Damned right it's real," Sirius puffed out his chest in pleasure.

They left for the stadium then, the weather absolutely perfect for the gameday,

"Lily I don't think you truly understand how lucky you are," James huffed, a touch of envy gleaming in his eyes at his wife getting this match.

Lily was still studiously ignoring them all.

but it didn't stop Harry from keeping his wand on him as he dressed in his Quidditch uniform.

"Something you really should do more often," Remus nodded in approval.

"Still blows my mind they don't do that at all," Sirius chuckled.

Lily eyed them for a moment before explaining, "I'm actually quite happy Harry's never had to do this but once before. Remember that the schools not living in the same era as we did."

Sirius and Remus exchanged a curious look before nodding in understanding.

Harry couldn't help but wonder if Lupin was in the stands today.

"Well I should hope so," James scoffed, "as far as I could tell, he's not got a reason to miss it this time."

Remus grinned as well at what he only hoped was an absurd question, of course he would want to come, or he would now. In this rather bleak future where he hardly seemed able to hold a conversation with Harry, well if Harry didn't catch sight of him it would only chalk up to another heartbreak.

Wood tried to give his speech, but all he could really manage was to encourage them to play like they had in practice the other day, then they went out.

"Wood's pep talks have actually gotten worse over the years," Sirius snickered.

Harry sized up the other team as they met on the grass, and couldn't help but notice his opponent Cho Chang had long dark hair, and was rather pretty.

Lily's tone finally changed from mild indulgence, to outright joy and glee at this. That was calm though compared to the boys reactions, who lost it and began laughing at once, despite Harry's berated face and mutters that they could shut up now.

"Sorry Harry," James gasped, rubbing at his ribs and hardly looking sorry at all. "I won't deny I've been dying to find out the first girl that would catch your fancy."

"Epically since one of your friends is a girl," Remus nodded in agreement with a stupid smile still plastered in place.

Harry blinked for a few moments before going even more red and spluttering, "wh-Hermione? No, no way. She's like my sister or something, it's nothing like that."

"Alright," Sirius waved him off, hardly sounding like he meant it as he said, "we get it, just amused us is all."

Still giggling slightly herself Lily decided to keep going while Harry was still more embarrassed than argumentative on the subject.

She gave Harry a friendly smile when she spotted him, which caused Harry to have quite a different nerve jump then the game.

"I'm positive it is," James muttered in agreement, giving Harry an obvious wink Harry chose to ignore.

Then the whistle was blown, and they were in the air, Lee Jordan doing his normal commentating.

"Always worth the listening," Remus nodded happily, easily remembering this boy's previous commentaries.

Jordan started off by commentating about the Firebolt, noting it was a world class broom, but McGonagall cut him off by snapping that he was supposed to be talking about the game play.

"I find this very relevant for the match," Sirius snickered.

Jordan didn't pay it much mind, still talking about some of the many perks the Firebolt had, and McGonagall cut in again.

"I never get tired of that kid," James laughed, knowing he'd be just as bad about endearing this broom if he was commentating.

He relented then, stating the score. Harry was only half listening as he followed his own job, finding Chang was keeping on him rather then doing her own search.

"Tailing's never a bad idea," Sirius nodded, his eyes narrowing as he continued mentally mapping out the game with every little detail Lily gave.

Harry could tell she knew what she was doing, always cutting him off and keeping him from making any kind of beeline.

"And keeping him off guard to boot," Remus praised at the girl's obvious skill.

Then Harry spotted it, a flash of gold near the center field.

Lily couldn't deny it anymore, her voice was spiking with just as much excitement as any of the boys as her son continued to show his prowess at yet another swift sighting of such a tiny little object. Yes, she was still ticked at her son for the way he'd been treating his friend, but she could never deny how proud she was of something he was so obviously good at.

Harry tried to go for it, but a Bludger forced him to swerve away,

"Oooh," all the boys groaned, the couch nearly shaking with them they were all bouncing in place so much.

"S'alright Harry," James said at once when he saw how annoyed his son looked, "you've still got the better broom, you'll still get there in the end."

and the Snitch took its chance to disappear.

"Rats," Sirius muttered, snapping his fingers but low enough Lily had no reason to stop.

Jordan couldn't help but notice all of this, returning to talking about how the players just couldn't match up against Potter's superior broom, and McGonagall lost her patience as she shouted at him he wasn't getting paid to advertise brooms!

"For some odd reason, I think McGonagall's a little upset herself," Remus snickered.

"What on earth would give you that idea," James cackled.

Ravenclaw was starting to win out in points, and Harry was starting to get jumpy as he realized if Chang got the Snitch first, they'd lose.

"Come on Harry, you can do this," Sirius muttered with absolute faith.

Then he saw it again, the Snitch was fluttering around their team's goal post,

"It's got to be a sign," James grinned wickedly that his son must have just set another record for spotting the snitch again so fast.

Harry made to go for it again, but then Cho was there right in front of Harry and he had to madly swing out of the way to avoid her, much to Wood's displeasure as he yelled at his Seeker to stop being a gentleman and knock her aside.

"He really is a lovely one," Lily grumbled in just as much agitation as anyone when Harry was once again cut off from his victory.

In the mayhem though, their ball was once again gone. Harry changed tactics then, deciding if she wanted to try and keep up with him he'd make it a chore.

James didn't hold back his laughter one little bit, going wide-eyed as a child at the mental joys of watching his son soar through the air like this.

Then it happened again, a flutter of wings and his eyes locked onto the Snitch on the Ravenclaw end, and Harry pelted towards it, and so did Cho.

"She's lucky she didn't smack into the ground," Remus muttered in admiration of the girls own skills at keeping up with Harry for so long.

They were racing forward, but Cho was a little bit closer when something caught her eye, and she screamed in fright as three dementors,

"Are you kidding me!" Sirius howled in outrage, nearly getting to his feet and all enjoyment gone in a single moment of frustration. "Dumbledore couldn't bloody-"

Lily wasn't listening, wasn't giving him the chance to go on a full blown rant for two reasons. Mainly, she was too anxious to see the results, to make sure Harry would get to the ground safe and sound again. Also because, she randomly noted Harry had felt them before seeing them every other time, why hadn't he this time? Were the effects finally beginning to wane?

were coming towards them, but Harry hardly gave them notice he was so focused. He yanked out his wand, performed the Expecto Patronum spell as something with a distinct silver shape came shooting out,

All five of them couldn't help but beam with pride, Harry hadn't been able to produce something so substantial since his first try, and this time he hadn't even felt the side effects of it!

but didn't glance at his handiwork as his hand still holding his wand curled around the Snitch in victory.

"Yes!" The room cried with such jubilation the parents felt lucky someone had yet again thought to silence their room from the baby's so that it wouldn't wake him. They couldn't help it though, it felt like it had been far too long since they'd really had a chance to just be truly happy about something, and the winning of Harry's game was definitely something worth celebrating. The boys spent quite some time interrogating Harry on every little detail he remembered that the book may not have said. Lily watched on with great enthusiasm and her two cents in whenever she could, but it was also she who demanded they get back on track and finish this chapter. Even Remus, who looked ready to fall asleep before she even finished, looked like he wanted to protest but Lily kept going anyways leaving them to forcefully fall silent.

The game was called, and the stands erupted as everyone began screaming with pleasure.

Harry sunk back to the ground only to be swarmed by the fans,

Lily couldn't help but sound like the proudest mother in the world in that moment, for the first time in her life angry that Hogwarts didn't allow outsiders, like parents, to attend these games.

Percy could be spotted muttering to himself about finding his girlfriend who now owed him money,

"So glad that little issue was resolved," Remus' laughter doubled at that random little thing being picked out.

but one voice made itself known by whispering in Harry's ear that he had made quite the Patronus.

"Can't imagine who would praise you for that," James nearly vibrated in pleasure when he realized Remus had managed to make this game. He wouldn't even be too surprised if Harry managed to catch another shot of a black dog scampering away.

Harry turned to find Lupin, beaming but clearly shaken.

"Shaken?" Lily asked curiously.

"Maybe the dementors freaked him out too?" James offered with a clear shrug saying he really was guessing, mostly because they'd yet to seem to have that effect on him before.

Remus couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't in fact a little shaken up at seeing a ghost in the air after all these years. On a different position yes, but Harry would be nearly indistinguishable from James from that vantage point, he'd probably been having some happier flashbacks to sitting in the stands in his younger years, next to Peter and cheering their friends on.

Harry was bubbling as he said how he hadn't felt the dementors one bit, and Lupin looked almost disappointed to burst Harry's bubble as he told Harry those hadn't been dementors.

"What?" Was muttered all across the room, most of them still too excited to really be listening to what Lily was saying exactly.

He pulled Harry away and showed him that Malfoy was plenty put out now.

"He didn't," Lily muttered in disgust.

"He did," James nodded, his face twisting with dislike.

"Not that it really matters," Sirius said with bright-eyed glee, "because whatever stupid thing they thought was going to happen not only blew up in their faces, but I'll lose my damned mind if someone doesn't tell them off for that, like Remus for one."

Remus couldn't help but nod in fervent agreement with this, but couldn't help but wonder if someone else already was by his own rather laid back attitude about it.

Him, Crabbe, Goyle, and the Slytherins captain Marcus Flint were all dressed in the black hoods posing as dementors, but were now crumpled on the ground being told off by a furious McGonagall.

"Sweet justice," Sirius crowed, actually getting to his feet and bouncing around with unrestrained glee. Lily was too busy giggling at his antics to tell him off and they spent another long few minutes before Lily finally came back to reality and kept going breathlessly.

She was disgusted with the lot of them trying that stunt, and only slightly calmed down when she saw Dumbledore heading over.

James kept muttering things like, "beautiful," and, "perfect, sweet karma," under his breath with a manic grin still in place.

Ron had to wrestle his way out of the crowd to come over and see, and nearly fell down laughing as Malfoy was still half stuck in his robes.

"Perfectly understandable," Remus nodded with glee.

George called Harry back to the rest of them, telling that there was going to be a party!

"Oh boy," all of the old Gryffindors lit up with excitement. Even Lily, who never put much attention into Quidditch games, never denied the chance to enjoy one of their parties.

It was like they'd already won the Quidditch Cup;

"Well considering how long it's been since Gryffindor has really been able to celebrate like this, you can't really blame them for going a little stir crazy," Lily laughed.

every person from the house was buzzing in the common room, and after disappearing for a time, Fred and George came back with treats for everyone, dipping them out of a bag with the Honeydukes logo.

"Right out of me own heart," James praised, smacking his lips and suddenly having the childish desire to go back in time and relive his own similar parties.

Angelina asked how they'd managed that,

"Magic," Sirius said in a goofy tone of voice, making Harry laugh all the harder at their antics.

but the question got lost in the crowd and no one really seemed to care as they all dug in. Harry spotted one person who wasn't getting into the festivities, Hermione. She was curled away in the corner reading.

"Are you kidding me," Harry gasped. "How on earth could she- did she even go to the game!"

Lily was frowning all over again, all amusement drained right out of her as she once again was reminded of just how alone the poor dear probably felt right now. She didn't however turn any of those bad feelings towards Harry again, recognizing how truly upset he looked that his friend was so clearly out on her own like this.

Harry forced his way over, past the twins who were now juggling to the crowds amusement,

James and Sirius couldn't help but be just a little envious they'd never thought up to try that routine.

and asked her if she'd even come to the game? She said she had, though her voice cracked a bit.

"Stress," Remus frowned in concern.

While she was happy the house had won, she had to read her book by Monday.

"That whole book, by Monday?" Sirius demanded with a raised brow. "I somehow doubt Burbage assigned that."

"Wow, so Hermione is still trying to outdo everyone in the class on top of everything," James said in pity.

Harry tried to convince her to put it down and join the fun, hoping that Ron would be in a good enough mood to put their issues behind them,

"Well I certainly hope so," Lily grumbled.

but Hermione refused, saying she still had over four hundred pages left.

"Then why is she in the noisy common room?" Remus demanded, wondering if that wasn't perhaps her plan and she was actually trying to get her friends attention.

Then she scoffed that Ron wouldn't want her to.

"Then tell him to get over it," Lily snapped, "she needs to go over there and say it's high time they talk this out right and proper."

Ron picked that moment to say as loudly as possible that he wished Scabbers were still alive, he loved these treats.

"Timing," James scowled, personally thinking he may have even said that as a low blow at Hermione, he didn't think he'd put it past Ron at this point.

Hermione burst into tears.

All of the boys started, suddenly leaning away from the book as if it were a crying girl too. Lily took the moment to give them all dirty glares for that reaction before continuing with unrestrained pity.

Harry tried to say something, but she ducked the book under her arm and ran up the stairs.

"Damn," the boys cursed, now knowing Harry had no way to go after her and really comfort his friend, Harry was clearly at least trying.

Harry stormed back to Ron and told him off for that, and Ron shot back he might apologize if she even acted like she was sorry.

"How much more does he want, she bloody just burst into tears in front of everyone!" Sirius gaped.

"I'm thinking Ron might be holding a bit of a grudge," Remus muttered softly, at least catching Sirius' attention who nodded in understanding.

Harry couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't some kind of backstory to that comment since it also made James look away in a rather guilty way but Lily still wasn't giving them much of a chance to discuss anything.

The Gryffindors only ceased when McGonagall came in and told them it had been enough, and to get to bed.

"Well she's just a right killjoy, least that hasn't changed," James muttered sourly.

Harry and Ron went up the stairs, still happily dissecting the game,

"We would be too if Lily wasn't such a killjoy," Sirius snarked.

but they did eventually fall asleep, and Harry had an odd dream.

"Because your dreams have always been so pleasant before," Remus snickered a bit, wondering if this one would be Quidditch related, at least that wouldn't be so bad.

He was walking through a forest, his Firebolt over his shoulder,

"Now this is a strange dream," Sirius laughed, knowing in any normal circumstances Harry would be riding that any given chance.

following something silver through the trees, though it stayed too far ahead for him to see it properly.

"Guess Harry really wants to know what his Patronus is to," James smirked, this being the only thing that made sense to him.

He tried to run and catch up, but still wasn't making progress, the sound of hooves getting louder.

"Hooves?" Lily reread in surprise.

"Think he's chasing after Buckbeak or something?" Sirius wondered, remembering how Harry was supposedly helping with that beast in his free time.

He was jolted awake though, by someone screaming at the top of his lungs 'no!'

Lily may not have shouted that as loud as the book implied she should have, but it was definitely loud enough to startle the others who had just been so invested in that dream, Harry hardest of all. He had been trying to so hard all day to ignore this sickly feeling that something bad was going to happen on this day, and he'd even gone to bed so surely he must have been wrong this time, this didn't bode well...

He tried to pull back the curtains around his bed, and heard the sound of his door being slammed shut.

Lily felt a cold chill crawling up her spine, wondering who on earth would go slamming the door like that right then.

The other boys had woken as well, all of them calling out sleepily what was going on, while Ron was scrambling around in bed, part of his hangings torn.

"Torn?" Remus muttered, wondering if Ron had perhaps damaged them in his nightmare, what else could it be?

He was looking around everywhere, white faced with shock as he stammered it had been Black with a knife!

Sirius fell back against the couch for all the world looking like he'd just been stabbed himself.

Lily had to blink hard several times to convince her eyes she'd really just read that while ignoring the fevered chill that made her lean in close to Harry on impulse, but she was being stupid of course. Sirius would never really hurt any of those kids, least of all Harry, he'd obviously just brought the knife for defense while he finally figured out how to get in there and...and what? There truly no longer seemed like a logical explanation to explain away a mad man's actions for this nonsense, because no one would really think it a good idea to go into a crowded boy's dormitory in the middle of the night just to talk to Harry. That didn't even begin to explain why he'd rip up the hangings on Ron's curtain...

Remus came out of his shock first, taking a moment to give a glance at Sirius before snapping at Lily, "keep going, I'm sure Ron was just having some sort of nightmare," while rubbing furiously at his chest.

Lily swallowed hard, wondering if Remus really did believe that, but gave no counterargument and only hesitated another second because she wasn't even sure if James and Sirius were still listening, they looked like they'd just closed off from the world. Her only real reassurance was a glance over at her son, who was frowning in utter frustration. That look meant that he was trying to remember something though, there still wasn't a single trace of fear in her boy at this, so there must be something they were all missing.

They tried to tell Ron it had just been a dream, but Ron was adamant that he hadn't ripped up his bed, Black had been here!

Remus felt physically torn, wanting to agree with Dean that Ron may have just done that himself, as implausible as that was it was still better than the alternative. Then his mind kept reminding 'heard a door slam shut.'

Then Ron jumped out of bed and ran downstairs, waking every boy along the way it seemed as he reached the common room to find trash still littered about in the dying fire.

'The house elf's are slacking' was the first thought that finally reentered Sirius' mind, and that random little tidbit finally put some color back into his skin, though in no way seemed relevant to anything so he pressed his lips together hard to stop himself from interrupting what he kept hoping was just some really elaborate and not funny prank done by the twins.

The twins came stumbling in, rubbing sleep out of their eyes and asking if they were still going to party?

Then Sirius winced so horribly James and Remus had to wonder if his heart had just skipped one too many beats. This really did sound bad, nearly as bad as the time they'd stopped speaking to him all those years ago, but it wasn't the same thing now! Sirius had just, just... and none of them could still come up with a thing.

Percy barged in, telling them all to get back to bed while putting his badge in place.

"Trust me, I think we all know by this point," Harry muttered to himself.

Ron tried to tell his brothers Black had been in his room, had a knife over him, and Percy said that he was being ridiculous.

Remus quickly opened then closed his mouth, unable to break the long drawn out silence with some dumb comment in true Sirius style.

They stood there arguing for a few moments before McGonagall returned.

"How would she know so fast?" Harry blurted out a little too loudly, causing all of them to jump since Lily had nearly been reduced to a whisper by this point she was so fearful of what she was reading.

James startled hardest of all, he'd clearly still been in shock, but in an effort to brush it off he exclaimed, "I'm positive there's something so the Head of House knows when someone's in the dormitory who's not supposed to be. At least it would explain those times we snuck in and a Head of House would appear a few seconds after we left."

Lily waited a moment longer, almost praying someone else would have something to say about this that would delay her reading, but no one did and the sticky silence had returned the moment James had got done speaking.

She turned on Percy first and told him off for allowing this to continue,

Sirius gave a huffy little noise, like he dearly wanted to make some sarcastic comment to that, but his mind was still floundering over a nightmare of a future no one could answer and he just couldn't get the words out.

Percy huffed back he hadn't okay'ed this, it was just Ron having a nightmare.

Remus made an odd sort of noise. He dearly wanted to make the comment that he felt bad for Ron and nobody believing him, but that would mean that he did believe him, and he was still banking on the fact that Ron really did have a nightmare, because otherwise...

Ron shouted at the top of his lungs he hadn't dreamed that! McGonagall still told him it was impossible, Black couldn't have gotten past the portrait.

Sirius flinched like he'd just been struck. He wanted that to not be answered, would have given all the money in Gringotts for Lily to keep going and say of course that hadn't happened because he really didn't know the password, but already scenarios were running through his mind of all to easy ways he could spy on current Gryffindors to get that password. Surely though, if he was thinking like this now, he couldn't be so mad then that he'd even pull this stunt, right?

Ron was insistent though, so she stepped out to check herself.

This time it was Harry who had to fight back the impulse to mutter 'poor Ron' because he knew deep down that Ron hadn't been having a bad dream and he really wished these people did believe his friend. Of course that didn't help the current mood in the room one bit, who were all practically paralyzed at the endless implications to Sirius' mind set in the future.

She asked Cadogan if an adult male had come in recently, and Cadogan agreed at once.

Remus shuddered and leaned back into the couch, grumbling something that Sirius had no desire to make out the exact words of, because he either wouldn't believe them or he'd truly lose his mind in the next few seconds if this continued train of thinking really was leading his friend somewhere he knew he'd die before going.

McGonagall was as shocked as anyone to hear it, asking why he'd been let in. Cadogan explained he'd had a list of the passwords.

James said something so foul Lily's first instinct was to grab her wand and scrub his mouth out.

She didn't though, none of them did as they remembered not that long ago about how Neville had somehow gotten a list of passwords, and had somehow lost them. Then again, that begged the question how Sirius had gotten a hold of those? Had Neville managed to lose it on the grounds somewhere and Sirius had just happened to come across them? Circumstances of that aside, it still didn't answer the deranged question of what he was doing?! If his true purpose was to see Harry, then he was going about it in the worst and most criminally implicating way possible, which meant that the last line of reasoning really was Sirius had lost his ever loving mind. Lily had to suck in a long, deep breath and control every impulse in her not to continue throwing worried looks over at Sirius as she finished.

McGonagall stepped back in to ask which student had been stupid enough to write down passwords and leave them around.

Lily finally found a whole new emotion to scowl at, never finding it okay for a teacher to publicly call out a student and insult him like that. Of course it wasn't nearly as bad as when Snape had done it and she recognized McGonagall was stressed out of her mind right then but it finally gave her a chance to keep going without sounding like she was reading a death warrant.

Neville had no choice but to raise his hand.

"Give me that," James snapped at once, hands shaking nearly as bad as his voice as he violently flipped to the next page.

[samuelfields]

The Bull Market Checklist To Living Your Best Life

Perhaps I’m confusing some positive things that are going on with my life, but I haven’t felt this good about the current state of the markets since 2007. Sure, everything went to hell the next couple of years and mass carnage ensued. But that’s neither here nor there.

As of right now, we are living in the best of times. If you’ve been a Financial Samurai reader for at least a year or are a reasonably savvy investor, your net worth should be hitting new record highs. In turn, the amount of investment income you’re generating in order to live free should also be generating new record amounts.

With the Fed now firmly on our side, investors have gained new confidence in taking on more risk. Further, we can all earn risk-free money in our savings accounts at an interest rate substantially higher than the 10-year bond yield. This double win is rare.

I’d like to offer up some thoughts on how to invest and spend in a bull market to live a better life.

The Bull Market Financial Checklist To Living Your Best Life

1) Take advantage of lower rates. With the 10-year bond yield at two-year lows, mortgage rates and longer term student loan rates are also at two-year lows. You should take advantage by refinancing your mortgage and your student loans if you have any.

Unfortunately, for those of you with credit card debt and other short-term loans, rates have not fallen because the short-end of the yield curve has increased since the Fed started raising the Fed Funds rate at the end of 2015.

I’m wrapping up my 7/1 ARM at 2.75% with all fees baked in plus a $2,400 credit this summer. If I waited until now to lock, I may have been able to get 2.625%.

10-year bond yield at two-year lows

2) Stay exposed to risk assets. Stocks, bonds, and real estate are your friends in a declining interest rate environment. Lower interest rates make owning other assets with higher interest rates or potentially higher returns more attractive. Interest rates are likely to stay low for longer.

I can’t tell you how much risk exposure you should have since everybody’s risk-tolerance and financial situation is different. All I can say is that you need to quantify your risk tolerance and then invest accordingly.

The most logical risk asset for me to invest in is real estate because lower mortgage rates bring in more real estate demand. We’ve already had a significant slowdown in many real estate markets in 2H2018. Without a correction 2H2018 I’d be more cautious.

With mortgage rates roughly 1% lower than in 2018 coupled with a retreat in real estate prices, it is my belief that real estate will rebound or at least stay steady in the coming years. The Fed has telegraphed it is willing to be accommodative (cut rates) to fend off a recession if necessary.

3) Ask for a raise or change jobs. We’re currently at a 3.6% national unemployment rate in America. That’s close to full employment. Now is the time to ask for a raise or hunt for the “perfect job” if you are not satisfied with your existing one.

The general rule of thumb is that you can get at least 20% more if you put yourself on the open market tomorrow. Depending on performance and industry, after about three years on the job in a hot labor market, you could conceivably get 50% or more.

Loyal employees tend to lose out the most. Don’t be like me. I stayed at my old employer for 11 years and probably gave up more than $1 million in earnings as a result. The main positive about loyalty is that it increases your chances for negotiating a juicy severance if you ever want to move on.

4) Take a sabbatical. Given it’s currently an employee’s market, now is the time to take a long vacation or a sabbatical. Yes, it’s tough to get off the grid when so much money is to be made. But it may be now or never as it might be career suicide to take a sabbatical during a downturn. Because when you get back, your job might not be there!

If you plan to work for at least five more years, please take an extended vacation or sabbatical. Money is working the hardest for you in a bull market, so don’t worry so much about trying to make even more money.

My biggest mistake was not taking at least a one-month sabbatical. I was too worried about my job during a downturn and wanting to make max money during a bull market.

It was a never-ending cycle because I always expected a downturn to be right around the corner. But if I had taken a sabbatical, I would have been refreshed and likely extended my working career by at least a couple more years. This is one of my big regrets as an early retiree.

5) Start strategically living it up. If you can’t live it up when times are good, you certainly won’t be able to live it up when times are bad. When times are bad, you’ll want to save more and take on side hustles. The end result is that you never end up spending any of your money on living the good life.

During a bull market, you’re making money way beyond your normal expected income (day job, side hustle income, passive income). In other words, bull market money feels like “free money” or “funny money.”

Your goal is to calculate how much funny money you’ve made each year from the bull market and proceed to spend some of it on yourself, your family, and your loved ones. You don’t have to spend 100% of your bull market gains each year. However, you should try to allocate and spend at least 10% of the funny money living it up.

For example, in 4Q2018, I was down about $300,000 (15%) in my House Fund portfolio. That hurt. Luckily, the House Fund portfolio made up all its losses and then gained about $200,000 for a $500,000 swing in six months.

Gaining back $300,000 felt like free money because I had foolishly over-allocated towards tech stocks. But making $200,000 really felt like free money. Therefore, I took a portion of the $200,000 and bought myself some new underwear. I feel so fresh! But seriously, I made a massive purchase earlier this year which I might share in the future.

6) Hunt for unicorns. During a bull market, bigger bubbles tend to form. If you can catch a bubble and ride it before it implodes, you could potentially make a lot of money.

I would set aside 10% of your cash flow (not existing investments) in search of the next great speculative investment. A speculative investment is usually an unproven product, doesn’t have positive cash flow, and is something not mainstream.

You should expect to lose 100% of your 10% with the chance of making a 1,000%+ return. The likelihood of either happening is probably small. At the very least, you will learn more about investing in assets that are often overlooked.

It’s absolutely fine to invest in index funds for the long term. The vast majority of your funds should be allocated towards a boring S&P 500 and bond index. You just have little chance of ever getting richer faster than the majority of the investing population.

If I hadn’t invested $3,000 in VCSY in 2000, I wouldn’t have been able to make a $120,000 down payment for my first SF property in 2003. If I hadn’t bought my first property in 2003, I may not have had the courage to go all-in on a single family home in SF at the end of 2004.

All you need is one lucky break to supercharge your wealth. But in order to get your lucky break you need to take extra risk with some of your funds.

7) Shop your business around. Valuations tend to be at their highest during a bull market because expectations are so high for future earnings growth. If you believe expectations are higher than reality, then you should aggressively try and shop your business around to the highest bidder.

But to be able to shop your business around, you must first have your own business. Having��a business is great because not only does it have a cash flow component, but it also has an equity component as well. To create next level wealth is all about growing the equity component.

S&P 500 P/E ratio

Although the trailing 12-month P/E ratio doesn’t look outrageous yet at 21.9X compared to the 14.75X median multiple, the Shiller P/E ratio is getting up there at 30X compared to the 15.75X median multiple. The Shiller P/E ratio is based on average inflation-adjusted earnings from the previous 10 years.

The Shiller P/E ratio

8) Become a charlatan. In a bull market, qualifications and credentials are often overlooked because everybody is making so much money. It’s only after people start losing money that folks start carefully reading the fine print and questioning the background of the person.

During the last bull market, I know one guy who wrote a book about how to get rich despite having recently graduated from college with hardly any money. He ended up getting rich partially because of his book. Brilliant!

Today, I know of 25-year-olds with zero financial backgrounds who are teaching people how to invest in the stock market and retire early. It’s impressive how folks are soaking it up.

If you’ve ever wanted to make money as a charlatan, now is the time to take advantage. It doesn’t matter if you’re a failed political consultant trying to position yourself as a financial expert or a company founder with no pertinent experience. If you fake it, chances are higher you will make it during a bull market.

The company, Theranos, is probably the best example of allowing charlatans to get rich if they were able to sell some shares during their $400 million in funding rounds.

9) Calculate your financial independence number. It’s fun to calculate how much you’ll have if the bull market lasts for X years. It’s also very dangerous to extrapolate massive gains for a long period of time.

Your goal should be to come up with a financial independence number that will produce enough investment income so you never have to work again. Then you should create three scenarios (bear case, normal case, bull case) on how long it will take to achieve that FI number.

Once you have created your three FI scenarios, you will naturally start taking steps to get there. Too many people just wing it when it comes to their finances. Then they wake up 10 years from now wondering where all their money went.

In my case, my FI number keeps growing because of kids. But I believe I will be able to hit my investment income goal of $300,000 a year by the end of 2022 in a conservative scenario. I’ve created an entire saving and investing plan to make it happen.

Make The Bull Market Count

Nobody knows how long this bull market will last. All I know is that for the foreseeable future, the Fed is on our side, interest rates are low, and there’s a Presidential election coming up promising us lots of freebies.

It’s conceivable at the rate the candidates are going that our children will never have to work for a living. If so, we may be over-saving for our children’s future.

Be aware that one recession indicator to look for is when the Federal Reserve actually begins to cut their Fed Funds rate. If history is any guide, once the Fed starts cutting aggressively, a recession (grey bars below) is within 12 months away. If the Fed only needs to cut a little bit, then chances are higher the good times will continue to last.

If we can’t enjoy life to the maximum during a bull market, then we’re never going to enjoy life to the maximum at all.

Do your best to live it up today!

Readers, I’d love to hear what else should be added to the Bull Market Checklist so we can all live our best lives. How do you feel now that your net worth is at or close to all-time highs? What are you doing more of or differently to improve the quality of your life?

Related: The Average Net Worth For The Above Average Person

The post The Bull Market Checklist To Living Your Best Life appeared first on Financial Samurai.

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[youreverycolor]

Perception - Ch. 18: Stranger Than Fiction

A/N:  Oh. My. God.  I keep apologizing for the delay between chapters, but between losing my job, starting a new one, studying for the bar exam, and life in general, it was hard to write this one.  To make up for it, I’m giving you almost 10,000 words.  I really struggled with this chapter sometimes, because I’m dealing almost exclusively with everyone BUT Rafael, and he’s the most fun to write.  But this chapter advances the plot in a major way, including - GASP - Lauren’s shocking secret.  I hope you guys enjoy!

Song: Some People Change by Kenny Chesney

Nora flung open the door and glared at Eli as he pushed past her, uninvited, into the apartment. He was wearing the same suit he’d worn the day before, sans tie, and judging by his bloodshot eyes, he hadn’t slept.

“For the love of God, Eli, it is 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday. What the hell could you possibly-”

“THIS!” He slapped a large manila envelope onto the counter. “THIS is why you’re awake right now. THIS is what I stayed up all night reading. THIS is what we have to deal with now!” She stared at the envelope, nothing immediately registering.

“I’m not in the mood for guessing games, Eli, so why don’t you just tell me what THIS is?” She flipped on the switch on the coffee maker, silently thanking God that she’d prepared it the night before.

“THIS is the email you sent me from the investigator last Monday! You know, the one you didn’t comment on, mark as urgent, OR tell me about!” At that, Nora stopped what she was doing.

Shit, she thought. I forgot all about that. She had gotten distracted before she could review the email’s contents in detail, and had only barely managed to forward it to him in the meantime. It was her screw-up, and she knew it. But she knew that the best way to get Eli past his anger was to get him to focus on the solution. “I’m sorry, Eli. I dropped the ball. So what do you need me to do?”

He gestured toward the stack. “Sit. Read. Respond.” The coffee already filled the air, and she desperately wanted a cup before she dove into this, but she wasn’t in a bargaining position. So, she sat down, rubbed her still-sleepy eyes, and began to read.

It took her a good forty-five minutes to wade through all the details in the report - and there were MANY. Some were mundane, like college transcripts, parking tickets, various versions of her resume. But when she’d finished, she was absolutely dumbfounded. For once, she felt Eli’s panic was justified.

“Now do you get it? Do you understand?” She noticed the vein in his forehead that always pulsed when he got worried. It troubled her every time, because she was sure one day it might actually burst.

“So,” she said, “what do we do?” She tentatively stood up and ventured toward the coffee maker.

“We have several things we are going to do,” he replied, still visibly angry but a little less terrifying.

“Such as?”

“For starters, we’re going to wake Marissa up.”

“Eli, she-”

“MARISSA!” He bellowed. “Get out here!” He started down the hallway, but Nora placed a hand on his arm.

“Eli! She’s not here.”

He looked down at her hand and then at her, eyes burning. “What do you mean she’s not here?”

“I mean what I said. She isn’t here.” She looked both smug AND uncomfortable somehow, and Eli wanted to shake her off.

“It’s seven in the morning on a Saturday,” he said, growing more confused and irritated by the minute. “Where is she?”

“She's… at Sonny’s.”

The fire died from his eyes and he stared at her blankly, as though she wasn’t even there. He blinked a number of times. She wasn’t quite certain what to say, but she was trying very hard not to smile.

“I… what?” He finally sputtered.

She allowed the smile this time, but tried to couch it in empathy.

“She went to stay at Sonny’s place last night,” she said. When he didn’t reply, she continued. “Eli, it’s completely normal.”

“Like hell it is! She’s a child, and he’s-”

“Okay, first, she’s not a child. She’s a grown-ass woman, and he’s a perfectly nice lawyer.”

“Oh, stop that, just because he’s a lawyer and we’re Jewish-”

She snapped at him this time, something she very rarely did. “YOU stop it. You know that’s not what I meant. And you know I’m right.” The silence between them was hot, stifling. He looked at his arm. Her hand was still there. She seemed to realize it at the same time, and pulled back. Then, she softened her voice. “Eli, she just started speaking to you again. Do you really want to die on this hill?”

He sighed, defeated. “I just don’t trust him. He’s the idiot who posted that video, and I think if she’s going to insist on dating someone-” He watched her shake her head and chuckle. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I just can’t believe this,” she replied. “We have this absolutely enormous crisis in the campaign, and you’ve been sidetracked by your daughter’s boyfriend.”

That seemed to snap something in his brain. “Right,” he said. “Yes. So. What we need is either for Marissa to talk to Rafael or for Lauren to talk to me.”

“And how would either of those things ever happen? Lauren doesn’t even know you - and what little she knows makes you look like the lunatic you are - and Marissa isn’t going to talk to her boss about his girlfriend.”

“He won’t listen to me,” he said. “He’ll just get pissed and dig his heels in.”

“So you’d rather put Marissa in that situation?” She realized the coffee had finished brewing and poured two cups, shoving one toward him. To her surprise, he actually picked it up, though he didn’t stop pacing and flailing his other arm. Maybe the coffee wasn’t such a good idea after all, she thought.

“No,” he said, “that’s just it. She won’t be in that situation. For whatever reason, she can say the same thing I would and he’ll listen to her.”

“Eli, she isn’t going to do it. She’s already involved enough, and I can tell you, from experience, it is uncomfortable having to bring up anything related to your boss’s dating life.”

“Personal experience?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Need I remind you of Courtney Paige?” She mirrored his face. He looked somewhere between offended and shocked.

“When did you ever-”

“You think I didn’t have to make excuses for the noise coming out of your office?” She drank her coffee casually, but didn’t quite make eye contact.

He remembered that day and how embarrassed he had been by Nora’s stare when he and Courtney had emerged from his office, damp and dizzy. But it hadn’t occurred to him at the time that Nora might also have been embarrassed.

“Well,” he said, wanting to move away from the topic, “what do you think we should do then?”

She was almost unprepared for the question. It wasn’t like him to ask the opinion of others in a damage control situation. She proceeded with caution. “I think… I think your second suggestion is the more reasonable. Someone ought to go directly to Lauren.”

He walked into the living room, mug in hand, mulling over the idea. “Interesting. Do you think she might talk to you?”

“Me? Why me?” That hadn’t been her intention.

“Don’t you think this would be better coming from you?”

“Oh? You mean like when you wanted me to ask the intern if she was wearing panties?” She shook her head. “Not happening, Eli.”

“Well, SOMEONE has to do it. And as you said, she already hates me. She won’t take it well.”

“She’s not going to take it well either way,” she sighed. “What’s your ultimate goal here?”

He groaned and sat down on the couch. “What I’d LIKE and what I can GET are two different things.”

“Usually,” she replied, and sat down next to him.

“So what I’d LIKE doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Plan B, then,” she offered.

“Plan B is to get her to come clean and let me manage this as best we can.”

“So just reason with her. She obviously cares about Rafael. She won’t want to hurt him.” Her face didn’t quite match her words.

“What are you REALLY thinking?”

“I’m thinking that your coffee is cold and I need a shower,” she said. “When you figure out what you want to do, let me know.”

As she left the room, the realization that he had no idea how to handle this hit him. He thought he had seen it all. He’d dealt with lovers, call girls, all manner of sexual and romantic secrets. But not once in all his years of professional politics and crisis management had he seen anything this outrageous, complicated, and potentially campaign-ending.

“Good morning,” Sonny said, lifting his head slightly. Marissa was curled against him, almost halfway off the couch, but for Sonny’s arm around her waist holding her in place.

“Morning,” she replied, not even opening her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten,” he said, although he was barely able to see his watch through the sleep in his eyes. “Shoulda been at work half an hour ago.”

“Well, then you should probably-” He squeezed her, making no motion to get up.

“Already texted Liv. Called in sick.” He let out a very fake cough.

“Well, then, maybe I should be the one to go,” she said with a smile. “I wouldn’t want to catch it.”

“Too bad. Gonna guess you already caught it.” He grinned as she clumsily turned to face him.

“Damn.” He leaned forward, awkwardly craning his neck, and gave her a whisper of a kiss. Just as it had the night before, his touch left her skin tingling. “I need breakfast.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “If you’re gonna be sick, better keep up your strength. And as it turns out, breakfast is the one meal I can make.” He stretched and lifted himself off the couch - not an easy endeavor - and eased himself slowly upright. She sat up, rubbing her shoulder where she felt the telltale crick of a night on the couch, and tried in vain to smooth her unruly curls.

“You okay?” He clanged pots in the cupboard and finally retrieved the one frying pan he owned.

“Yeah, just a little stiff. I’m getting old.”

“If you’re old, I’m dead.” She heard eggs crack.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Scrambled eggs?”

“Sounds more like a question,” she said, making her way to his tiny kitchen - even smaller than hers - and watched him whisking the eggs in a bowl.

“Less a question, more a hope. I can make scrambled eggs because it’s what happens when I try to make anything else. But hey, when I said I can make breakfast, I wasn’t lying.”

Sonny may have been cocky about his abilities as a cop, and even as a lawyer, but with Marissa, he was always just slightly awkward and unsure. It was what endeared him to her. She even suspected that if she hadn’t made the first move, they never would have gotten here. He was a gentleman, sometimes to a fault.

“Scrambled eggs sound great,” she said. She leaned across the counter to watch him. “It’s more than my dad can make, and he’s been a bachelor way longer than you. Can there be coffee with the eggs?”

He motioned to his left, where Marissa saw a Keurig and a spinner with all kinds of pods.

“I get bored,” he said, noticing her raised eyebrow. “And it’s just me - well, usually.”

“You’re a cop AND a lawyer. I would think you’d drink it by the gallon. I’ve considered investing in an IV drip for Mr. Barba.” She perused the spinner and decided on a plain dark roast, which she had grown accustomed to from the office. Once upon a time, she had liked sweet, flavored roasts. These days, bitterness tasted better.

“You know you’re the only person who calls him that,” Sonny said, flipping the eggs over in the pan. “Everyone else just calls him Barba.”

“Yeah, but everyone else doesn’t work for him.”

“Hey, speaking of Barba,” he said, emphasizing the lack of title on the name, “how’s the campaign?”

“It's… weird. I haven’t really been working on it much.”

“You’re talking to your dad again, though, right?” He scraped the eggs onto two plates, grabbed the orange juice from the fridge, and set everything on the breakfast bar.

“Yeah,” she said. “I mean, he never really apologized, but that’s par for the course. I just don’t have the energy to be angry at people these days.”

They sat down across from each other, and Marissa could smell some sort of spice radiating from her plate. “What’d you put in these?”

“Secret,” he said. “Can’t just eat plain eggs every day. Like I said, I get bored. And you’re trying to change the subject.”

“So let me,” she said. “The eggs are good.”

“Thanks. So he didn’t apologize?”

Marissa knew Sonny well enough to know he didn’t let things go. Part of the detective in him, she suspected. So, she hedged.

“I offered him pie.”

At this, Sonny looked up from his already-half-empty plate. “You made him a pie?”

“No,” she corrected. “I made a pie, then offered to share.”

“Marissa…”

“Sonny, please,” she pleaded. “Just let it go.”

The night Eli had stormed out of the Hanukkah party was rough, and Sonny had borne the brunt of it. Marissa had disappeared into her bedroom after he’d left, and wouldn’t even let Nora in to talk to her. Sonny traded on his negotiating skills and managed to get her to go for a walk with him. She didn’t say much, but she held his hand and let him ramble about his law school days, the latest case at the department, his nieces. She liked the sound of his voice on any given day, but especially that night because it drowned out the sound of her father’s voice in her head. She had kissed him for the first time that night, slowly and carefully, almost so he knew she was considering her actions and not just acting on emotion.

“So, are you thinking we should finish the movie we slept through last night?” This was among the myriad reasons she liked him so much. He didn’t just listen; he actually heard her. She shrugged.

“We could,” she said, “but that’s going to require me to brush my teeth and shower. I refuse to be disgusting, even if we are just lying on the couch.”

“You wanna shower here? I got Aveda - I can’t use Old Spice or Axe or whatever crap they try to sell guys my age-” He started to get up, but she shook her head and he stayed in his seat.

“I need creature comforts. Give me a couple hours. I’ll run home, grab a quick shower and a change of clothes, and be back. Besides, I don’t have a toothbrush here… yet.” She smirked and gulped down the last of her coffee, brushing past him to grab her purse and coat from the rack near the door. He stopped her, extending his arm to catch her at the waist. “I said just give me a couple hours. Then, I’m all yours.”

He smiled up at her, only just noticing the way her grin made her cheeks even rounder and softer and her nose crinkle slightly.

Ditto, he thought.

Of all the sights Marissa never would have expected coming home to on a Saturday morning, first among them would have to be Eli and Nora sitting together on the couch so close together that if one of them turned their head, they might collide. At the sound of the door, it almost happened, as Eli’s head snapped up. Nora started to say something, but he was already charging toward Marissa.

“Where have you been?” He demanded.

“Why, good morning, father, it’s good to see you, too. Would you like me to get you that pie now?” Her voice was syrupy. Nora raised an eyebrow.

“Wasn’t that Sonny’s-”

“He doesn’t like key lime,” Marissa shot back, slightly defensively.

“Not now,” Eli said. “Anyway, we need your help.”

She tossed her coat and scarf on the bench near the door and breezed past him. “Sorry, I have plans today.”

“They’re canceled.”

“Hm, let me think about that.” She paused. “No.”

“That wasn’t a request,” he said, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nora give him a warning look. He bristled momentarily, and then softened his voice. “Look, if you don’t want to do it for me, then at least listen for a second if you care at all about Rafael.”

He used to use a similar tactic on Kalinda, the investigator who worked for Alicia’s first firm. Whenever he needed her to do anything for Peter, he would mention Alicia. Kalinda would inevitably break her “no-Peter” rule. He only hoped it would work on Marissa, too. She was studying him, probably for signs of deception. She tended to be a human lie detector. He had raised her to well in some respects.

“Talk,” she finally said, once again pushing past him. “You have ten minutes.” She sank into a rocking chair across from the couch.

“This may take a little longer than that,” he said, but from seemingly nowhere, Nora stepped in front of him.

“Long story short,” she said, “it involves Lauren.”

“What about her?” It was only then that she noticed the stacks of paper spread on the coffee table around the laptop.

“Well, it seems she isn’t exactly what - who - she said she is,” Nora said. “Or, at the very least, she left out a few key details.”

“What kind of details?”

Eli and Nora glanced at each other uncomfortably. “Well, from what we can tell, it seems that for a number of years, about 1998 until somewhere around 2003, she was…”

“A prostitute and a drug addict,” Eli finished, ripping the bandaid off the sentence. He was surprised at how flatly the words came out, actually. Maybe he’d spent so long panicking that he was all out of emotion. Meanwhile, Marissa simply shook her head.

“That’s not possible. She’s a lawyer. They don’t let hookers become lawyers. There are, like, thirty background checks you have to go through!”

“I’m guessing she told the admissions committee when she applied, but those proceedings would be sealed. No one would know about any sort of arrests unless she was fingerprinted for something. She also didn’t use her real name back then.”

“Well, if that’s the case, how did WE find out?” As if she didn’t already know.

“We hired a private investigator,” Eli replied.

“We had to,” Nora said, seeing the look of partial disgust on Marissa’s face. “You know we had to.”

“Anyway,” Eli continued, “we found out she had a couple of arrests when she was eighteen and twenty, all of which were plead out, she eventually got into rehab for a pretty nasty heroin-slash-cocaine addiction, and got cleaned up around 2005 or so. She managed to keep all this under wraps until now.”

Marissa was still having a hard time accepting all this. Lauren was poised, beautiful, professional, and accomplished. There was no way this could possibly be true. “She has a really common name,” she said shakily. “How do we know-”

Eli, sensing her next question, rifled through the stack of papers and handed her one. It was glossy between her fingers as she turned it over to study it. A black-and-white image of a woman stared back at her. She looked a lot like Lauren, only this woman was younger - although in some ways, she looked older - and she wore much more makeup than Lauren ever did. She also looked tired, strung out; her hair fell in thin, limp pieces around her sallow face, and her eyes were half-closed, as though she might fall asleep as the photo was taken.

She looked exactly like what Eli and Nora were saying Lauren was.

There was no real way to absorb any of this, other than to keep staring at the photo, trying to convince her brain to believe what her eyes were seeing. And then, an entirely new thought came to her, one that made her sick to her stomach: why would Mr. Barba have kept this all from them? They were spending all their time, energy, money on this campaign, and he held this back from them? What the hell was he thinking? What kind of stupid, amaetur move was this? And why wasn’t Eli more angry about it?

“Marissa, we don’t think he knew,” Nora said, and it took a second before Marissa realized she had gotten out of her chair and said all those things aloud. She stared at the two of them; she didn’t think she could contemplate for disbelief.

“What?”

“There’s no way he knew. He wouldn’t hold this back. You know he’s not that stupid.”

“Excuse me, you’re saying a candidate wouldn’t lie to you?” She shot him an incredulous look. “Need I remind you that Peter never told you he was banging his ethics attorney? You had to figure that one out for yourself.”

“Okay, point taken, but-”

“Rafael isn’t Peter,” Nora said. “He isn’t stupid. He’s too pragmatic to have done this, and frankly… we have less reason to trust her than we do him.” Marissa couldn’t believe what she was hearing: Nora was trying to justify this.

“I’m going to call her office and get a meeting scheduled with her next week,” Eli said. “I’m going to talk to her, and if I’m wrong, of course I’ll admit it, but-”

“Yeah, okay,” Marissa snorted. She started down the hallway toward her bedroom.

“-but I don’t think she’s told him, and I’m going to give her the chance to do it.” At that, she whirled around.

“You’re what?” Even Nora looked surprised. Last she knew, Eli’s plan had been to send her, or even to try and get Marissa to do it. Eli glanced away for a second, then nodded curtly.

“Look. If I go right to Rafael, even with all of this evidence, he isn’t going to listen to me. He’ll just dig his heels in and do what all candidates do. He’ll shoot the messenger. So if I give her the chance to tell him herself, either she will, and he’ll end things out of anger or pragmatism, or she won’t, and she’ll just choose to disappear instead.”

Marissa rolled her eyes and continued into her bedroom, where she grabbed her duffel bag and started stuffing clothes into it. Nora followed after her, standing just outside Marissa’s bedroom.

“You forgot an option. What if she already HAS told him?”

“Oh, come on, Marissa, I know I said if I was wrong, I’d admit it, but we all know I’m not wrong!” He slapped a hand to the wall in frustration. “You know she hasn’t told him! Why are you still insisting otherwise?”

“Because I know you, and I know you’re just looking for any reason to go down there and scare her into going away!” The words came out of her mouth with a venom that surprised them all. Eli didn’t react, but Nora knew what damage the words had wreaked in his mind. He would never admit it, but he didn’t want his daughter to think what everyone else thought of him: the worst.

He sighed. “I won’t deny that I’d be thrilled if she just disappeared into the ether,” he said. “But I have a distinct feeling that she is a permanent problem, so I may as well cushion the inevitable blow as best as I can.”

“And,” Nora said, “he’ll handle it best if it comes directly from her.” She watched as Marissa moved between the bathroom, linen closet, and bedroom, shoving toiletries and clothes into her bag. She could tell Marissa was listening, even though she wasn’t making eye contact. Sometimes, her silences spoke volumes.

“So how exactly do you plan to go about this? Just show up in her office and go, ‘Hi Lauren, remember me? I’m the psycho from the Hanukkah party who manages your boyfriend’s campaign, and oh, by the way, did you used to bang people for money and/or drugs?’” She glanced down at the bag. Shampoo. Conditioner. Extra socks. Do I want to pack the condoms now, or wait til Dad leaves?

“Well, I’d probably leave out the psycho part, and I’d have an appointment, but the rest sounds about right.”

“I’ll help him figure out something to say that doesn’t make him SOUND like a complete psycho,” Nora offered. Her dark eyes implored Marissa to trust her, even if she didn’t quite trust her father. The two exchanged a long look, and Marissa finally nodded.

“How am I going to know if you’re lying to me?”

Nora looked to Eli. “I’m pretty sure that’s to you.”

He sighed. “Do you really have so little faith in me?”

“It’s not about faith. It’s about odds.” Another remark that Nora knew cut him, but he shrugged it off.

“Well, how would you like me to prove to you that she hasn’t told him? I can’t prove a negative!”

“You’re right,” she said, slinging the duffel over her shoulder. “I guess you can’t.” Nora’s eyebrows shot up as Marissa walked between the two of them, paying no attention to Eli’s demands for her to return. On any other day, with any other set of circumstances, she might. But she needed time to process everything. Eli and Nora had had all night and morning with all this information. How could they expect her to know what to do with it after just a few minutes?

She couldn’t remember if she’d packed body wash, but she’d be willing to use Sonny’s if it meant she could wash off the entire afternoon, as far away from the campaign as she could get.

In his decade-plus as a political operative, Eli had had all manner of uncomfortable, unnerving, and personal come-to-Jesus moments with candidates, their family members, and, yes, even their mistresses. But in all those years, he couldn’t remember ever having to discuss a candidate’s girlfriend’s history as a sex worker - let alone with the girlfriend herself. Not that he hadn’t dealt with his fair share of prostitute problems - Peter had been his most famous hooker rehab project - but he hadn’t ever had a candidate actually in a relationship with one. He wondered how he had managed to end up as the less gross and more attractive version of the Jason Alexander character in a real-life version of Pretty Woman.

The dull buzz of the law office where Lauren worked left an ache in his ears, although he wasn’t entirely sure whether it was that or the migraine he’d woken up with from the anxiety of the impending confrontation. He was well aware of all the ways in which this conversation could go wrong. It wasn’t as if he had made a spectacular first impression on Lauren when they had first met. She had absolutely no reason to even take this meeting with him. And, even assuming he got past that point, once he got the reason for the meeting across, she would likely either throw him out or throw something at him. Either way, he couldn’t imagine a scenario where this conversation ended in anything other than him being escorted out by security.

“Mr. Gold?” A slight, blonde woman appeared in the lobby carrying a tablet and only half-looking at him. He stood up from the overpriced, uncomfortable sofa. Why did law offices spend all their decorating money on floral decorations no one looked at and none of it on reasonably comfortable places for people to sit?

“Yes,” he said, clearing his throat.

“I’ll take you into Ms. Sullivan’s office now,” she replied, still looking between him and the tablet. “She’s late from a deposition so she asked me to have you wait for her there.”

“No problem.” He suddenly felt like everyone knew the reason he was here, even though that was both impossible and ridiculous. The blonde led him down a long hallway lined with brightly lit offices with glass-paneled doors - sexual harassment prophylaxis, Eli called those kind of offices - until they came to one that looked not unlike Alicia’s when she had worked as his liaison. It wasn’t quite as plush as a partner office, and was sparsely furnished with only a desk, two chairs, and a small bookcase. But it was still filled with plenty of natural sunlight from a large, western-facing window, and hints of personal touches Lauren had added to warm the space.

“You can have a seat here. Lauren will be back in a few minutes. Can I get you some coffee or tea while you wait?” He noticed that the woman was finally actually looking at him, so he simply shook his head and held up his hand. She nodded and closed the door behind her, leaving him to his own thoughts and Lauren’s things. He didn’t really feel like sitting in the silence, though, so he wandered over to the bookcase where he took the opportunity to learn what Lauren chose to display to the world about her life.

There were photos of her and some female friends, her and some children - he assumed friends’ children since she didn’t have any nieces or nephews - and some awards and plaques given by various bar associations, organizations, her employer, and her law school. Nothing really stood out to him until he took stock of what WASN’T there. There were no family photos, no indication that anyone outside her social and professional circle even existed. In fact, Eli’s background check had indicated that Lauren’s mother had died not long after Lauren graduated high school, but she had nothing to indicate the slightest connection to her mother anywhere. In an office containing photos of her friends’ children, he’d have thought a remembrance of her mother would have been an imperative.

Before he could dwell any more on why she wouldn’t want her mother’s memory hanging around, the door swung open and in strode Lauren, purposefully and as though Eli wasn’t even there.

“God, you would think that the only reason I even had to go to that deposition was to give them a warm body in a chair,” she snapped, tossing her briefcase on the desk in frustration. “Didn’t ask one damn question the entire time, but you damn well KNOW they’re going to bill for me. Ridiculous. I could have actually been accomplishing something for the last two hours…”

Eli didn’t quite know how to react, other than to be slightly concerned; this didn’t bode well for how she handled stress. Suddenly, she seemed to realize that there was another person in the room. Her expression changed completely, from anger to embarrassment. “Oh, Eli, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- it’s just been one hell of a day,” she said.

“I can see that,” he replied. “I don’t miss the law.”

“You were a lawyer?” She gestured for him to have a seat across the desk from her. “Rafael never mentioned-”

“Come to think of it, I probably never actually told him,” he said, scrolling through his Rolodex of memories. “It was a short-lived period in my life. Joint MBA/JD type of thing. I didn’t really do well with… well, negotiating, believe it or not.”

“Really? I’d have thought you’d be great at that.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I was great at getting my way with cases. It was just that my approach didn’t really work well with partners.” She laughed, and he cringed. He needed to cut off the friendly banter or he would never accomplish his objective.

“So, what can I do for you, Eli? Surely you don’t need a lawyer, so I assume this has something to do with Rafael.”

He nodded. “Yes, in a way. But actually, it has more to do with you.”

She saw that he was momentarily fiddling with his phone, so she turned toward her computer and started typing. “I hope you don’t mind if I work at the same time as we talk. I’m behind from that deposition today. But I promise, I can multitask with the best of them.”

“Not at all,” he said, tucking his phone back into his coat pocket. “But anyway, I just wanted to talk to you about something that may come up in the next few months. Well, actually, it WILL come up.”

“Well, to be honest, we - Rafael and I - thought this would come up eventually.”

He sat straight up in his chair and was thankful he didn’t get that coffee, because he probably would have spluttered it all over her. Was it possible that Rafael DID know about everything and simply hadn’t told him? No, he thought. He couldn’t possibly be that stupid. He swallowed hard and squinted at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we figured with the gay rumors still floating around - which I honestly don’t understand - instead of forcing Nora to be his date, or risking another scandal with his assistant-”

“-you mean my twenty-four year old daughter-”

“-that you’d probably just want me to step in for a photo op at some point or another.”

Eli would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so utterly dismal. She was being so casual, he realized that she actually couldn’t conceive of someone finding out about her history. He watched her for a minute as she pulled some manila files from her briefcase, type a little bit, and then check another stack of files. She said something to him that he didn’t quite clearly hear - something about attending a few functions, but only with advance notice - and then he heard himself blurt it out.

“Have you told anyone else that you were a prostitute and a drug addict?”

The click of the keyboard stopped and she knocked the briefcase to the floor with the motion she made to snap to attention. She stared at him wordlessly, her mouth just slightly open. Her left eyebrow twitched, and her eyes narrowed.

“What did you-”

“You heard me.” He suspected she was an expert at settlement negotiations; her face betrayed nothing. She swiveled her chair to face him and folded her hands on her desk.

“Okay, Eli. I don’t know what fiction you’ve invented to get rid of me, but I can assure you, I am not-” At this, he shot up out of his seat and reached into his coat. He threw down a thick envelope of his own, letting it rest between them, a manila elephant in the room. She didn’t bother to pick it up.

“I’m sorry. All I have is a biography,” he shot back. She started to respond, but he cut her off. “Where do we start? The pimp you hooked for after you graduated high school? The drug addictions? Because there were several of those. And speaking of several, what about your multiple names? And the arrests under those names! There’s a great photo section, too, for that matter. Should we talk about rehab?”

Lauren felt like she might actually be sick all over her desk. She was overheated and blood pulsed in her ears. She somehow managed to pull herself out of her chair and to the door to close it. The last thing she needed was for any of the partners - or worse, the other associates - to overhear any of this. She really didn’t know how to respond, other than to simply deny it. But if that envelope contained photos… oh God, mugshots…

“Eli, please. Keep your voice down,” she begged. “It’s-”

“It’s what, a secret? Not for long!”

She turned back toward the shelves near the opposite wall and focused her eyes on the awards. Most of them didn’t mean all that much, really, in the grand scheme of life. They were recognitions of small achievements - law review, associate of the quarter at the firm, a thank-you from the animal shelter she sometimes volunteered at, some legal education certificate for a course she couldn’t even remember. These were things no other associate in any law office would care enough to keep at all, much less display. What good was it to work toward achievements, though, if you hid them all away?

“That isn’t me,” she said in a voice almost as quiet as the silence itself.

“Excuse me, but I can promise you-”

She whirled back around. “I mean, it’s not me anymore.” He couldn’t tell if she was going to cry or scream. Maybe both.

“Well, I realize that,” he said, with a roll of his eyes. “Obviously, you’ve managed to collect yourself since then. But it doesn’t matter, Lauren. If we found it-”

“How? How did you find it?” She sank back down into her chair, more defeated by the moment.

“We hired a private investigator,” he replied, as though this were an everyday occurrence. To his surprise, she didn’t freak out. She didn’t really react at all. She just nodded.

“And now what? What do you want me to do?” She asked the question, but she suspected she already knew the answer.

“Well, in an ideal world, you would go quietly into the good night,” he said, “but I’m guessing that Rafael won’t have that. So, speaking of him, does he know?”

She knew this was coming, but that didn’t mean she was going to go along with it. “No, he doesn’t. And he isn’t going to.”

“Oh, yes he is, and you’re going to tell him.” She stood up again, attempting to challenge him.

“And exactly why would I do that?”

“Because, as I have been trying to tell you,” he replied coolly, “if we found it, they will too. You aren’t going to be able to just disappear if you want to stay with him, so you have two options. Tell him, or break up with him.”

A lock of her unruly hair fell in front of her eyes and she barely made a motion to move it. It was almost unnerving to him how much she resembled Alicia in this moment. The same expressionless, emotionless face, the same chilly affect in what few words she spoke, all reminded him of the day Alicia threw a set of dishes at him because of something he’d confessed he’d done years before. The same blank stare that preceded that moment was now falling across Lauren’s face. Only this time, there were no plates and nothing to run from. He stood his ground and gave her his best death-squint back.

“And if I refuse?”

He swore he heard a hint of panic in her voice, and he knew he had her cornered. He buttoned his coat, preparing to leave. “If you won’t tell him, then I’ll find someone who will, and I promise I won’t soften anything. I’m giving you a chance to get in front of this with him, not because I particularly care about you, but I do care about Rafael. I don’t want him to be hurt by this, personally or professionally.”

“Eli, please-” she begged again. “I’m asking you to please… try not to… can’t you just keep this from…” She was grasping at straws, and she knew it. She knew Eli couldn’t keep it under wraps. She knew that this could all come out any day. Truthfully, she had ALWAYS known. But somehow, she had managed to convince herself otherwise. She had wanted to be with Rafael so badly that she told herself she didn’t need to be afraid of her past anymore, that he would protect her from it. She had been selfish, and now she would have to pay for it.

Eli snapped her back to the nightmarish reality that was now her life thanks to this stupid campaign, with the sound of her office door opening. “I’m serious, Lauren. You tell him, or I will.”

With that short, final warning, he walked out, not even bothering to close the door to let her hide. He had left the manila envelope on the desk, the supporting documentation to his threats. How long did she have before Eli made good on them? How long before she had to tell the man she’d grown to love that she had hidden this terrible, dark thing? One way or another, her world was about to explode. She just had to decide whether she could be the one to detonate the bomb.

For once, it was Nora pacing the floor in Eli’s office. “You’re sure?”

“I didn’t misunderstand. I asked her twice.”

“And she said no?”

“She didn’t say yes.”

“Have you told Marissa?”

“I called her. She’s on her way. I’m actually surprised she didn’t demand proof first.”

“Oh, well, I’m sure that’s the first thing she’ll ask for. I hope you conjured some up.” He didn’t respond, but it was a pointed silence, one with which she was intimately familiar. “Eli, what are you not telling me?”

He looked at his watch. “This is ridiculous, it doesn’t take an hour to get downtown from-”

As if he had conjured her, Marissa blew through the door like an incoming storm. It hadn’t been snowing out when Eli and Nora had gone into the office an hour earlier, but it must have been coming down pretty hard; there was a subway stop half a block from the building, and Marissa’s dark curls were still speckled with flakes. As usual, she got right to the point.

“Whatever you dragged me down here for better be good. I was just getting into a good rhythm with this chapter I was writing, and-”

“Sit down,” Eli said, in a voice that was clipped even for him. “We need to talk.”

She eyed him suspiciously, and then looked at Nora, who was leaning against the front of Eli’s desk with her arms crossed in front of her. She didn’t say anything, but the look on her face was darker than usual. Marissa flopped onto the couch on the side of the room, but she left her coat on; evidently, she wasn’t planning on staying long.

“Fine, happy? Now what’s this all about?”

Eli stood up from behind the desk, iPhone in hand. Behind him, through the thick glass windows that lined his office, she could see the IT nerds still wandering around, the pollsters still hunched over their desks. She noticed he wasn’t wearing a tie, which was odd, because for as long as she could remember, he insisted on wearing a tie when he was working. Somehow, it made him feel like he had more of a commanding presence in front of the underlings. He handed her the phone, which was opened to the voice memo app.

“The first one,” he said, with absolutely no context. She looked at the recordings. There were only two; one of them was labeled “Conference Call with Glenn,” which she made a mental note to ask Eli about later. The other one, at the top of the list and dated that day, didn’t have a real title. It was simply labeled “X.” She frowned.

“What is this?”

“Just listen to it, Marissa,” he replied, giving her a look that was half-pleading, half-exhausted. Grudgingly, she pressed play. She heard some rustling at the start, and then Lauren, clear as glass, asking if Eli minded if she multitasked. Eli said he wanted to talk to her about something, and Lauren said something about photo ops.

“What the hell, Dad?”

“Just shut up and listen!” He snapped. Something in his tone startled her into submission. And just as she closed her mouth, she heard it:

“Have you told anyone else that you were a prostitute and a drug addict?”

She didn’t quite register anything that was said immediately after that. Had he really just asked her that question in THAT way? Then again, she realized, there really isn’t a proper way to ask someone if they’ve ever sold themselves for money or had a drug addiction. She heard Lauren deny it at first - not entirely surprising - and then she heard the sound of what sounded like a book hitting the floor.

“I’m sorry. All I have is a biography. Where do we start? The pimp you hooked for after you graduated high school? The drug addictions? Because there were several of those. And speaking of several, what about your multiple names? And the arrests under those names! There’s a great photo section, too, for that matter. Should we talk about rehab?”

She closed her eyes while she listened to the continued exchange between Lauren and Eli. She tried to imagine herself in Lauren’s stilettos. Having someone she barely knew accuse her of these things, and not being able to deny them, must have been humiliating. But that was just with Eli. Of course she would deny it to him - she would want to talk to Rafael first, to see how he wanted to handle it.

Then, things got infinitely worse.

“And now what? What do you want me to do?” Now, Lauren didn’t sound at all like herself. Her voice was brittle and betrayed fear.

“Well, in an ideal world, you would go quietly into the good night, but I’m guessing that Rafael won’t have that. So, speaking of him, does he know?”

“No, he doesn’t. And he isn’t going to.”

“Oh, yes he is, and you’re going to tell him.”

“And exactly why would I do that?”

“Because, as I have been trying to tell you, if we found it, they will too. You aren’t going to be able to just disappear if you want to stay with him, so you have two options. Tell him, or break up with him.”

Marissa had heard enough. She closed the app and looked away, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Thoughts swirled and intersected; confusion was becoming her natural state of being these days. She had been sure Lauren had told Rafael. She had been so sure, in fact, that when Eli had first presented her this information, she had accused him of sabotaging his own campaign by withholding the information from them. She didn’t know Lauren well, but she had wanted to believe she was an honest person. Maybe, she thought, she just wanted to believe that people in general were still honest. Now, she didn’t know what was worse: that she had been wrong, or that she’d had such faith in someone in the first place.

“Ris,” Nora said gently, sitting down next to her, “I know this is a shock to you, but-” The implication in her words was clear: it was a shock to MARISSA. No one else was shocked at all.

“I was wrong,” Marissa said. “I’m sorry.”

In most other situations, Eli would have rubbed it in, even taken a small amount of pleasure in it. But the situation was bad enough; there was no need to make his daughter feel worse about herself or her instincts, which were usually good.

“This is a weird situation,” he said, trying to be helpful. “But there’s no time to feel bad about it. We need to figure out what to DO about it.”

Marissa shook her head. “What else can we do? We have to tell him.”

“We need to give her time to do it herself,” Nora said. “Eli only went to her today.”

“Are you joking?” Marissa said, incredulous. “She’s HAD time to tell him. She’s had MONTHS. There shouldn’t be anything to tell by now!”

Eli was taken aback. She sounded like him. “Marissa, we can’t be rash about this. We have to have a PLAN.”

She fixed her eyes on him, but wasn’t really focused on him. She felt herself looking through him, unable to hear anything he was saying because her ears were already too full of lies.

“Okay,” she said suddenly, wrapping her coat around her shoulders and heading toward the door. “You plan. I’m leaving.”

And then, like a crack of lightning, she was gone.

“Marissa!” He called after her. “Get back here!” But it was too late. Either she was already gone or she wasn’t listening to him.

He turned to Nora. “What the hell was THAT, Nora? You just let her walk out?”

“What was I supposed to do, Eli? Barricade the door with my body?”

“It would have been helpful!” He sunk down into the chair behind his desk.

“Where do you think she’s going?” Nora asked. He didn’t reply. Right now, he only knew two things: first, he needed antacid. And second, in the middle of a huge storm, thunder inevitably followed lightning. It was only a matter of time.

His head was throbbing. He could feel the spot where he’d been hit with the gun, right above his temple. But when he went to put his hand to it, to soothe it in some small way, he couldn’t move his hands. Or his arms. Or his legs, for that matter. He looked around. It looked like his bedroom, but turned inside out in a way. The colors weren’t quite right. There was no sign of Marbury, who would usually be laying right in the middle of the bed so that he couldn’t get any space. There were no paintings on the walls. His closet was left open, but his clothes all seemed to be missing.

Suddenly, William Lewis slipped out of the darkness and stood at the foot of the bed, staring at him with the same cruel look he’d given Olivia throughout the child. It was manic, almost as though he were high. His eyes darted over Rafael’s body - it wasn’t a sexual look, but it was just as perverse.

“Hello, Counselor.” Rafael had almost forgotten his voice. Soft, menacing, tortuous. “Oh, come on, now, Mr. Barba. We don’t want to be rude, do we? After all, you can see what happens when people are rude.”

Even though he was restrained, he could somehow lift himself far enough to see over the side of the bed, to where Lewis’s gaze fell. When he saw what Lewis was staring at, he felt the bile come up in his throat. “Olivia-” He croaked out.

And then everything started to burn.

The knock on his door woke him up so suddenly that he nearly fell off the couch out of shock. Quickly, he checked the room. Everything looked normal. Marbury meowed from the comfort of her cat tree in the corner, almost questioning him. He was uncomfortably warm, the sleep-induced sweat glistening on his forehead and the back of his neck, and the light felt just a little too bright. Maybe he had a migraine coming on. He glanced at the door, a little hesitant, which he knew was ridiculous - William Lewis had been dead for years - but, like the dreams themselves, fear didn’t always make sense.

Then there was a second knock, accompanied by a voice. “Mr. Barba?”

“Marissa?” He grabbed a tissue and wiped his brow and neck, then headed for the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry it’s so late.” He invited her in and led her to the couch. Her hair was windblown and her cheeks were bright pink. “You look like you were sleeping.”

“Oh, it’s all right. If I sleep all night on that couch, I’ll be walking like a zombie tomorrow. Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee?”

“Only you would offer me coffee at 8:30 at night,” she replied. “Anyway, I can’t stay long. I just- there’s something I need to talk to you about, and I didn’t want to do it in the office. It’s kind of personal.”

She looked incredibly uncomfortable, but also deadly serious. This was concerning. Marissa had only been to his apartment a handful of times, and those were work-related. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good. He sat down on the ottoman across from her and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Okay,” he said. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

“I- what?” For some reason, the way he asked the question caught her off-guard. She’d heard him use that voice before - when he was talking to Olivia, usually.

“Well, I know things haven’t been great between you and your Dad since the holidays, and I just want you to know that if the campaign is too much - personally or professionally - I will understand if you need to take a step back.” His eyes were soft, kind, understanding. Suddenly faced with her boss’s sincere concern for her wellbeing, she almost changed her mind about what she was about to tell him. How do you justify breaking someone’s world apart when their first concern was that yours was still in one piece?

“No - no, Mr. Barba, it’s nothing like that.” Her throat was dry. “Actually, maybe I could get a glass of-”

Before she could finish her sentence, he was basically in the kitchen, pouring a tall glass of water from a pitcher in the fridge. He brought it to her and watched her down the entire thing before he continued.

“So if it’s nothing like that, then what is it?”

“When I said it was personal, I meant it was personal for YOU.” It suddenly occurred to her that she had come all the way across town intent on telling him this secret, but had neglected to actually come up a plan for how to do that. Her eyes were locked on him, as though she could psychically communicate the message if she just thought hard enough: Your girlfriend was a prostitute. Your girlfriend was a prostitute.

“Okay, I’m sufficiently intrigued AND worried now,” he replied, growing frustrated.

She took a deep breath. “The first promise I made to you at the start of this campaign was that I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I remember,” he said.

“And I want you to know that I’m not here under duress. My Dad probably would actually rather I NOT be here, and I’m frankly surprised he hasn’t come bursting through the door already, trying to stop me. Especially since I stole his phone.”

“You stole his- what? Why?”

She gave a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t very well ask him for it, could I?”

“What I MEAN is, why do you have it?”

She took a deep breath and turned the phone over and over in her hand. “I’m going to play something for you. And you need to listen to it very carefully. And please don’t shoot the messenger.” She typed in her father’s password - her birthday, of all things - and opened the same recording that she’d heard earlier that evening. Then she watched as his expression changed, from curiosity to confusion to disbelief. Then, as the last of the recording played - Tell him, or break up with him - Marissa saw something she hoped she would never see again: heartbreak, carved in the lines in his face.

He was silent, just staring at the phone’s screen long after it had turned black. His eyes were overcast, cloudy with doubt and anger. She was hesitant to say anything either, unsure of how he would react. Instead, she slipped the phone back into her pocket, then reached over and touched his forearm.

“Mr. Barba…”

Before he could say anything, there was another knock at the door. That seemed to snap him out of his haze. He stiffly stood up, marched to the door, and flung it open without even looking through the peephole. Marissa instinctively looked to see who the other late-night visitor was, half-expecting Eli.

“Rafael,” said Lauren. “Can I come in?”

[kingsofchaos]

So i had an Idea but I can't think of anything past the concept (+ yr writing for this kinda thing is like 200% better than mine) but what if the Lads founded the Fake AH crew and recruited the gents?

Oohthat’s fun – i’ve seen versions where they were two little gangswho combined into the FAHC but the idea of the actual Fake’s startingas the Lads is definitely interesting.Therewere a lot of names tossed around at the start; it’s the part offorming a crew no one really talks about, the vaguely embarrassingperiod of building an image, choosing a name, defining yourselves.Like band names there is a lot of bad before the good. Like bandnames ‘good’ is wildly subjective, particularly when determined by apack of teenage boys. The humour behind ‘Fake Crew’ isn’tparticularly high brow and not a single soul outside the originalfour Lads, including and especially their future members, have anyidea at all what the AH could possibly stand for. Most think itsmysterious, assume something clever or at least meaningful, but theshifty looks the boys shoot each other when pressed tell a differentstory.Still,they’ve made something of a name for themselves in Los Santos – theFAHC, who pull off unbelievable stunts, who lack any semblance ofrespect, dangerous in the way of feral animals, of wildfire. In thefoolhardy way of children, who care far more about making sure youhurt than they do about protecting themselves. It’s enough to keepother gangs wary, to buy themselves a little breathing room withreckless gestures and bared teeth, but not exactly the glory they arelooking for. Not quite the trembling respect they’ve dreamed of.Forthat, it seems, they’re going to have to think bigger, smarter. Beclever not just in the tricks they play and jobs they pull but in theway they twist their image, they way they recruit, build their crew.Just being more won’t do it, added thugs for the sake of numbers; itwould take an astonishing amount to really match the size of some oftheir rivals and the Lads don’t exactly play nice with strangers. No,they have to be strategic, have to select a few choice additions whocan help them rise, and after much discussion they settle on threenames they’d like to pull in; Ramsey, Patillo and the Vagabond. Loftygoals to be sure, but then, delusions of grandeur or not, the Fake’shave always considered themselves to be rather magnificent.Everyonewho’s anyone knows about the Vagabond; none of them will admit it(Ray will admit it, Ray doesn’t give a fuck) but the Lads all havehearts in their eyes every time the Vagabond slinks around, allfollow every rumour, gossip over every job. Something between heroworship and healthy respect, without any of the fear normalself-respecting individuals feel, is the perfect cocktail to have thefour of them plotting outlandish ways to pull in the mercenary.Patillo has an incredibly solid reputation for someone with no realties, invariably thought to be smart, dependable, one of the bestdrivers in the country and definitely not a woman to be trifled with.That she and Ramsey seem to have some kind of relationship, workedtogether back in the day and while going their separate ways don’tappear to have had any kind of blow up, will hopefully work in theLads favour. Last, but certainly not least, there’s Geoff Ramsey; therouge Rooster who’s been traversing the country, constantly on themove and pulling all kinds of jobs from hilariously wacky to darklyperverse. Maybe the Lads are looking a bit outside their paid gradebut with Ramsey reportedly looking to build his own crew they can’tnot try, not after realising that their crew is unfortunately in needof a proper leader.Becausenone of the Lads are leaders, not really, especially not back then.They aren’t incapable, are clearly wildly talented and loyal enoughto one another to defer a certain kind of leadership to whomever hasthe best idea or the most experience with whatever task they’refacing, but no one individual is capable of being the permanent boss.No one individual actually wants that role, not really, they’re alltoo young, too impulsive, too eager to abandon necessary goals at thedrop of a hat.  Ray,who has arguably the least interest in being the boss of all, is lessleader than lone wolf; when he’s taking point a lot of his orderstend to involve stealth, hanging back while he picks off targets,only charging in when long-distance is no longer an option. Necessaryfor particular jobs, and it’s certainly not an easy task keeping theother three in line until it’s their turn to burst into action, butit’s not a method that works for every task.Michaelmakes a magnificent leader, fierce and fearless and unwaveringlyloyal, protective of his crew until the bitter end. He is,unfortunately, utterly devoid of tact, of the patience to put up withany kind of shenanigans from anyone he doesn’t personally like, theability to create and maintain necessary relations with anyoneoutside his crew. Michael himself knows he makes a far betterLieutenant, busy with duties he actually cares about, walking theline between following orders with absolute obedience andunapologetically calling out anything he disagrees with, reliable andrelentless in equal measure.Jeremyis meticulous, when he’s in charge he plots and plans and doublechecks, the very image of the perfect boss except for one flaw; moreoften than not he’s easily swayed. Will put together the perfectstealth plan only to agree when Michael makes a convincing argumentfor the importance of rocket launchers, conduct an ideal heist untilGavin begs to go after something shiny or Ray inquires aboutabandoning the sensible get away car for hilarious motorisedscooters.WhenGavin is on his game he is fucking glorious, a flashbang of recklesslaughter and terrible ideas none of them can resist, the promise thatcome hell or hand-grenades they will all be going home with a story.When Gavin plays leader he needs a lot of faith, needs the others totrust in things that don’t seem remotely feasible, but the payoff isalways worth it. Except for the days when his words are too sharp,his eyes too cold, when he wants nothing more than to pick a fightwith the most dangerous crook in the room, to swagger around theLSPD’s station unmasked, jump from a plane without checking hisparachute; dancing with death just to see if he can. Ifthey’re not careful on those days, if they missed the clues, the restof the Lads would follow him down, unable discern between Gavin’susual absurd genius and those streaks of genuinely aimless apathyuntil they’re all careening towards destruction.So,as grating as it seems, there is an undeniable argument for apermanent leader, someone to keep them all on course, to take theresponsibilities they don’t want, someone who can captain their shipwithout trying to push them all overboard. Still, you can’t just walkup to one of these infamous criminals and hand them an invitation;selling yourself – your dream, your crew, your city – takes time,takes planning, so in the end the FAHC’s first recruitment isn’t evenone of those big three.It’spure luck when Michael meets Lindsay; finds her twirling anail-studded bat in the wreckage of a bar, sipping a cocktail likeshe hadn’t just caved a man’s head in, and really nothing on earthcould have stopped Michael from offering her a place in the crew.From talking them up in a way he’d never really bother with normally,because honestly how could he not. It doesn’t take much to get theother three onboard, Lindsay was a perfect fit, a seamless addition,and with her the FAHC is unquestionably more efficient.Strangelythe Vagabond is actually far easier to get on board than any hadanticipated. After they start actively seeking his attention Ryancan’t help but watch the Lads. Not because their jobs are impressive(they are, actually, but Ryan’s in high demand, so very many crewsout there are impressive enough) but because they are endearingeager; nothing like the pathetic begging of so many others, noattempt to convince Ryan he should be desperate to work withthem, just genuine enthusiasm to prove themselves worthy ofhis time. They’re funny, something akin to a pack of recklesspuppies; certainly capable of outrageous damage but equally likely totrip over their own oversized paws in their excitement, and in thisbusiness Ryan really shouldn’t find it as charming as he does. Theytake to leaving him all kinds of gifts; generally intriguing , oftenamusing and near always utterly gruesome, and after a month or so ofhanging around the city toying with them they manage to get a formerRooster onside to run the show and Ryan’s run out of reasons tosay no.Gavin’sthe one they sent after Geoff, when the Lads decide they’re ready totry to bring the notoriously creative, fortuitouslycrew-seeking man into the FAHC. Gavin’s first approach, full ofdeferential respect playing to Ramsey’s ego, is a complete bust; Geoffthought he was sweet, called him kid, laughed in his face andsent him out the door with a crack about coming back when he was oldenough to drive. The second approach involves pulling a full blownjob on Ramsey, one that starts with the man unknowingly buying Gavina supercar and ends with the priceless tailored suit he’s wearingbeing pinned to the wall with a nail gun, Gavin grinning away like aparticularly bloodthirsty shark, and all of a sudden Geoff can’t sayhe isn’t tempted. Deigns to finally listen to the recruitment spiel,as though he’s got any other choice right now, and despite himself isquickly sold on the whole crew.Jeremygoes out one day and comes back with a handful of people, some they’dbeen discussing as a group, some the others hadn’t heard of, but allperfectly capable of holding their own agains the Lad’s disgruntleddissent. Steffie, who takes a look at their set up, rolls her eyes,then pulls out her phone and starts making a list, talking dealersand bases and possible new hires. Trevor who immediately sets tosoothing ruffled feathers, sidling up to Gavin and gushing about someridiculous theft, questioning Michael about his preference in heavyweaponry, ignoring the way Ray is skulking around behind him. Mattthey’d all agreed on, welcoming the chance to push off allcomputering nonsense onto someone else, and Mica assures them allthat she’s got no interest in sticking around, will work contracts asrequested but isn’t about the stationary crew life. In the end noblood is spilt, no tempers flare too badly, and Jeremy is reasonablysure he isn’t going to wake up with a gun to his temple, so all inall it goes pretty well.The last missing piece, Jack, is actually tracked down by Ray in the end; he wanders off one day andcomes back with a very amused woman in tow, decked out in a hideousHawaiian shirt and driving an obscenely nice Lamborghini. Apparentlyafter finding her, not particularly difficult considering she wasn’ttrying to hide, Ray simply told Jack all about Geoff’s fumblingattempts to simultaneously familiarise himself with the mess that isLos Santos, integrate himself into, and begin to take control of, analready close-knit, functioning crew, and do it all while pretendinghe’s not at all rattled by the Lad’s unwavering fascination with thehorrifically notorious assassin who insists on sticking a strawthrough his mask to pound down a truly irresponsible number of dietcokes. It took a while for her utterly joyous, completelyuncontrollable laughter to die down, but when she finally calmed Jackimmediately started packing.

[thegirlwithamillionstories]

Proud Slytherin, needs Challenge (Blaise Zabini)

Requested: Nope

Warnings:  None (Except an incredible amount of cheesiness, maybe)

Words:       3.667

I could feel his damn eyes burning holes into my back. He knew there was no way I was going to be better than him in Potions. I was still going to outsmart him if it came to it, but Snape and his stupid affinity for Slytherin… “Miss Capes!”, a familiar snaring interrupted my angry thoughts, “Since you seem to be unable to answer my question, I will be taking 5 points from Gryffindor!” And of course somehow he managed to further fuel my anger. If I hadn’t been so distracted by this stupid idiot, who apparently just couldn’t leave me alone, Gryffindor wouldn’t have lost points. I took a deep breath as I could hear Malfoy and his bodyguards snicker behind me. I turned around fuming with anger and there it was just as I expected: a satisfied smile on his face. Of course, Blaise Zabini would never snicker. But he would also never let an opportunity to show the pleasure he gets out of my suffering go to waste.

“I can’t believe you used to be friends with him!”, my best friend, Eliza said, slightly out of breath. “I was young and dumb… I come from a pureblood family, like him. I didn’t know there were any better options.”, I laughed as we sped down the corridor to get to our next class on time. “Well, there clearly are. I mean, he’s good looking and all- ““Uhm, yikes? Please don’t go on.”, I interrupted her. “Hey, I wasn’t finished yet. But you will always outsmart him. Defence against the Dark Arts is our last subject today, so you had better take that chance. Maybe you’ll even do better than Hermione.” We giggled. Right, do better than Hermione Granger-as if that’s even possible. But I did manage to be better than Zabini, that was enough for me. What a nice send-off to summer vacation.

The train journey was lovely, as expected. I tried to enjoy the last time I would see Eliza- she was a muggle-born so naturally, my environment would be rather displeased if she came and visited me. I hung out with all my friends, we recounted everything that happened throughout the year. Pranks we played, dates we had. I would really miss school. Of course, I loved my parents and I was looking forward to not having to work for a couple of weeks, but still I felt more welcome at school, especially since I had, against all expectations, been sorted into Gryffindor. That sure shocked my parents. And all of their friends. That’s why I had to try to be a perfect daughter twice as hard these days. So obviously the first thing I told my mom, once I found her on the platform, was that we won the house cup against Slytherin. “Oh, that’s lovely, darling. Well done! Just don’t mention it at home Our friends will be annoyed enough their children’s house lost against the ‘opponent’. There’s no need to rub it in their faces.” “Friends?”, I exclaimed, more than I asked. She couldn’t be serious, I wasn’t prepared to be judged as soon as I set foot into my home. “Yes, (Y/N). A few of our friends are coming around next week.” Well, at least I still had a week.

I thought that at least now I could prepare myself a bit, but my father proved me wrong the instant he came home. “So, (Y/N), how was school? Have you finally made some proper Friends?” I knew it would get to this point sooner or later with my father. Yet, the question still felt like a stab right between the ribs. Every time I talked to him he somehow managed to make me feel like I was not enough. “I think so.”, I stated as calmly as I could. “And what kind of friends have you made?”, he questioned. “Actually, I’ve started dating a Slytherin.” As soon as I said it I scolded myself in my head. Why did I have to say that? Couldn’t I have just said ‘I’m best friends with Draco Malfoy now. He’s lovely’? No, my over-emotional brain had to come up with something completely outrageous. But I knew it was too late to take it back as my mom walked in in that very moment. “You have a boyfriend now? Why didn’t you tell me? Who is it? Do we know him?”

Oh, my mother, that sweet soul. But who was my ‘boyfriend’? It wasn’t going to be Draco Malfoy- too egoistic. Nore will it be Tweedle-dee or Tweedledum-they were too dumb and annoying, even for imaginary boyfriends. So, who’s left…? “Is it Blaise?” “Uh, yes.” And why did I say that… He was handsome for sure, but that was outweighed by his arrogance. “Oh, how lovely. You know, his parents will be visiting us next week, so you will get to spend some time together.”, my mother chirped.

Just peachy. It would have been bad enough to lie to my parents about being his girlfriend. Spending time with Zabini if I hadn’t just lied to my parents about being his girlfriend would have been bad enough. Although, I might have liked it a little, he may have dropped that arrogant act and it would have been like the good old days. But spending time with him when he had the ultimate way to embarrass me? Now, that would be fun…

The week passed way too fast for my liking. And suddenly I heard my mom calling me downstairs to greet the Zabinis. I walked downstairs quickly, shook some hands, exchanged some small talk and finally got to Blaise. “Listen, Zabini. I need to talk to you… In the kitchen.” He raised his eyebrow and put that dirty smile on his face. The one he wore way too often for my taste. It said ‘I know I can have you’ “And why would I do that?” “Because I’m asking you nicely. Now walk. Please.” ,I could barely force those words out through my gritted teeth. The grin stayed, but he walked.

“What can I do to please you?”, Zabini asked with a condescending smirk.

“Well, I may have led my parents to believe I’m dating you” I said in one breath. This was too embarrassing, I had to get it our as quickly as possible. I couldn’t believe I had to have this conversation with him.

“You? Dating me? That is hilarious.”

“Well, I’m glad I can make you laugh.”, I grumbled.

“And what do you want me to do about it?”

“I just need you to pretend to be my boyfriend until you and your parents leave.”, I explained as calmly as possible.

“And why would I do that?”, he was almost laughing. I sure was glad at least one of us thought this was funny.

“I’ll do anything.” By Merlin, I was desperate. And he knew that.

“Fine, you stop making it your life goal to undermine me and you do whatever I want for a month.” “I stop making ‘undermining you’ my lifegoal for a month. I won’t do whatever you want me to do.” “Yes, you will. You depend on me. You will do what I say for a week.”

“Fine.”

“Good, then let’s go into the living room, baby girl.”

“If you call me that one more time, I’ll hurt you.”, I growled.

And so, we went back into the living room and we were greeted with our parents staring at us. Merlin, please don’t let them make any comments on us ’dating’. “Blaise, why didn’t you tell us (Y/N) was your girlfriend.”, his mother immediately destroyed my hopes. “Well, it’s a little embarrassing. You know, with her being a Gryffindor and all. I just did not know how you would react.”, he tried to sound innocent and sincere as possible. I felt like he knew exactly that he was stirring the conversation towards everyone subtly shaming me for being a Gryffindor and he’d enjoy every second of it. Never had I cursed my big mouth more than in this very moment. That would be one horrible week.

After everyone was done talking about me being a ‘horrible Gryffindor’ they went on to other incredibly interesting conversation topics. Suddenly Zabini took my hand and gave me a sly smile “Do you want to get out of here, baby?”

“Sure, Blaise.”, I answered with my most sickeningly sweet smile.

“We’ll get some fresh air.”, he told our parents and pulled me out the door. I shook off his hand as soon as we were out of sight and went straight for the front door.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Going outside?”, I said sheepishly. How did this moron make me feel so self conscious?

“I wasn’t going to actually go outside.” Seriously, what was he on about?

“Well, what did you want to do?”

“I was just going to go upstairs. Weren’t you sick of them talking?” What a question who enjoys people having a complete conversation subtly talking badly about oneself. But why was he sick of it? “Well?”, he pressed, raising his eyebrows.

“Uh, I mean… sure?” I walked to my room with him, neither of us saying a word. The silent shuffling of our feet was the only sound braking the awkward silence, which almost made it unbearable. That was probably why I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind, as soon as I sat down on my bed: “Why were you sick of hearing them talk? I mean, surely you must have enjoyed everyone putting me down.”

“Well as enjoyable as that is, it’s kind of boring on the long term.”, he said as he sat down on the floor, looking up at me.

“Oh, and I’m more interesting?”, I asked disbelievingly.

“Well, you could be. Tell me the most interesting thing about you.”, he breathed out as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall.

“Is this going to be an actual conversation?”

“It could be, depending on how interesting you are.” I snorted, shaking my head and when I looked down at him… was that a smile on his face? But it was gone as soon as he saw me looking at him. Maybe I just wanted him to be nice for once.

“Well, the most interesting thing is that I’m a Gryffindor, although I’m from a cliché pure-blood family. My mom’s fine with it- my dad however, is so annoyed about it, after all these years, I finally cracked and told him the pure-blood Slytherin, who probably hates me the most is my boyfriend.”

“I said, the most interesting thing. You’re not supposed to lie” although he was teasing me, his voice sounded unusually kind.

“What? I’m not lying.”, I laughed, startled.

“I’m pretty sure Draco hates you more than me- “

“Well, that’s just one person” He grinned and raised his eyebrows cheerfully.. I kind of liked this side of him.

“I wasn’t done yet. Therefore, Crabbe and Goyle hate you more than me, so you see I don’t hate you… that much.” Of course, there had to be an addition. But we did have a nice talk for about an hour. That was when we were interrupted by our parents knocking on my door. We looked up and by the amused looks on their faces we must have both looked like deer in headlights. It was so weird to have them walk in all of a sudden, mainly because it reminded me of the fact that we weren’t in a perfect little world of our own where Blaise and I weren’t constantly challenging each other. Although I didn’t mind too much- until they decided to offer us to sleep in the same room ‘as long as you don’t do anything we wouldn’t do’, just before they left. Great. So, we were now also sleeping in the same room. I wasn’t blaming them or anything, they thought they were being nice. My father probably thought it would be character building or whatever. But the problem was I only had one bed. “You can sleep on the floor!” It was more of a command than a suggestion. However, the look he gave me told me I had no chance. “Yeah, you know what else I can do? Tell your parents all of this was a scheme to make your dad think you’re living up to his expectations.”, he answered challenging me. As soon as the words were out of his mouth his face changed, first he looked slightly regretful, but it quickly hardened into the mask of arrogance again that I knew so well.

“Wow, Zabini. Just wow. You know, you were almost starting seem nice.” I whispered.

We were always challenging each other, but I’d never thought he would say something as hurtful as this.

“Whatever, (Y/N).”, he almost growled, yet he somehow managed to sound like he couldn’t care less.

“Yeah, whatever…” I mumbled, “I don’t care. Now I’m going to go to sleep and you can sleep wherever you want.” I was hoping he’d put the lights off so he wouldn’t see how close I was to crying. It was bad enough my father was constantly subtly telling me I was disappointing him. I did not need Blaise to say it straight to my face. But instead he sat down at my desk and started writing something, which I assumed was a letter. I’m not sure how long Blaise was up writing, but when I woke up the next morning he was asleep next to me. I didn’t know how he was still sleeping, with the sunlight hitting his face like that. Not that I’d mind… In fact, he looked rather beautiful and sweet. I started thinking that he could actually be really sweet. After all we did have a great talk last night. And although he was always handsome, once he quit that arrogant act… Ok, I wasn’t supposed to think that and my heart isn’t supposed to beat faster when I look at him and he had been incredibly rude to me last night.

I needed a glass of water. Now.

As I walked to the kitchen I could hear our parents talking. “Good morning!”, I smiled. Everyone quietly greeted me back and I got that glass of water. As I was about to go back upstairs my mom called me back and announced that mine and Blaise’s parents were going out until noon and with that they apparated. I just stood there, on the cold kitchen floor for a second, but my bare feet felt like they were about to freeze off so I quickly scampered off to sit on a chair. I looked around the table, other than an unfinished breakfast there was also an unopened letter with only our address written on it in perfect, clean writing. A wide grin spread across my face-a letter from Eliza! That was exactly what I needed to cheer me up. Maybe I could ask her advice on the crappy situation I got myself into. But instead of Eliza’s perfectly drawn letters, the writing in the letter was messy. The words were smeared across the page. I knew I wasn’t supposed to, but I was pretty sure this letter was for Blaise-probably an answer to what he wrote last night- and I was just too curious.

Blaise,

By Merlin, get a grip!

She is just a girl, and a blood traitor, too. I get it, Blaise, she’s hot, you used to be friends, you’ve been pining after her for ages. And you visiting her for a week doesn’t make it easier. But if you can hide it at school, you can hide it at her home. And you’ve gotten yourself into this mess anyway. Seriously, what do you think you’re doing? You sleep in one room with her, talk to her for hours on end and on top of it all agree to pretend to be her boyfriend. And, by the way, making her stop undermining you for months and do what you want for a week does not make it better. You might as well have written an advert to the Daily Prophet ‘Pure-blood Slytherin, looking for-no-needing a challenge’

I am actually kind of sick of this. You cannot pine after (Y/N) forever. You have all the possibilities. It’s like fate set this up for you. So, either you apologize for being a piece of shit for the longest time, explain yourself and hope for the best. Or you quit turning into a nutcase in front of her. Either way I never want to hear about your undying love for (Y/N) again.

Draco

 Undying love, nice touch… But if he was pining after me for such a long time-

“Good morning.”, Blaise mumbled behind me as he walked into the kitchen.

“What makes it good?”, I grumbled.

“So, you’re still mad about yesterday?”, he sounded so sincere. Like he was actually trying to be nice to me. And what I just read made it harder to be mad at him, but he couldn’t know I just read what I read. So I had to play mad.

“Yes, Blaise. Yes I am still mad about you saying something extremely hurtful to me.” I snapped looking straight at him. And although I just read about, what Malfoy called Blaise’s ‘undying love’ for me, I was still surprised to see him looking resentful, almost hurt. But I kind of wanted him to read Draco’s letter before we talked. Maybe it would motivate him to talk about his feelings. “You also really should tell your friends to write names on their letters. Malfoy actually gave me false hopes with this one.” I said as I handed Blaise the letter. He took it without a word and left. Once again I was left standing in the kitchen, so I decided to write a letter to Eliza to distract myself until he was done.

It was nice to finally tell someone about everything. This whole situation was such a mess. But before I could even seal the letter I heard feet shuffling behind me and then Blaise started talking. The tone of his voice was different to any other time I heard it. It was soft and apologetic. “Listen, (Y/N). I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you it’s just… sometimes I do stupid things around you.” I could hardly believe what I just heard. Did he just almost come close to admitting he had a crush on me? But almost coming close to admitting wasn’t quite what I was going for, I wasn’t up for embarrassing myself in front of him. Well, not more than I already did. I needed a proper confession before I did anything else. “Sometimes? What about every time in potions class, when I can almost feel your stare burning holes in my back? How about when you decided to stir the conversation towards your parents talking badly about me again?” “I’m honestly sorry! I was wrong and I did wrong things. I didn’t mean to stir the conversation in any direction. I had to make up an excuse for me never telling my parents I’m dating you on the spot-it was the first thing that came to my mind, I don’t care that you’re a Gryffindor and I don’t think anyone else should either. And I do stupid stuff because I can’t decide whether I should make a move or just scratch the whole thing and move on-this situation isn’t exactly easy for me. And as for staring at you in class, well you can’t tell me I’m alone with that one. I’ll admit it, I can’t help staring at you and you can’t blame me-have you seen yourself? But I know you stare at me, too. I see the way you look at me when you think nobody’s looking. And I like you, I do. And I would have pretended to be your boyfriend for free, for all it counts. I was just to proud to say this before.” I couldn’t help but smile. “I know.” “What?”, he almost snapped at me. I knew I needed to fix this immediately, he was glaring at me already and I couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. “I said I know. I read Draco’s letter, plus I got you the first time you were apologizing I just enjoy making you say you were wrong.“ Finally, his angry face dropped and he smiled at me softly. “And?”, he said with a soft voice as he stroked my cheek, “Do you have anything to say?” “And… I’ve never felt that happy… reading something from Draco.” I took a little break, just to tease him, to get back at him for last night. “And I really enjoyed our talk last night. You also look really good when you’re asleep and I like you too.” He smiled at me, I slowly leaned forward and brushed my lips against his. “Ok, no. Is this how you think it’s going to work?”, he said frustrated. “Of course, that’s what you signed up for.”, I exclaimed. “I didn’t sign up for anything…?”, Blaise laughed. “Really? Cause I could’ve sworn I read something along the lines of ‘Proud-no, sorry, pure blood- Slytherin, needs a challenge’ in the Daily Prophet.” “Ok. Stop teasing me. Also, I should probably write a letter to Draco, you know, thanking him and all.” He started letting go of me, but I was not about to give up on this so I held on to him tighter. “Or, you could do exactly as he asked you and not talk to him about it until he feels like he’s starving due to lack of gossip. Which he will, eventually… I mean, come on-the guy’s a drama queen”, I grinned. “Your mind amazes me. Now how about you challenge me to something fun?” “And what would that be?”, I teased.“How about this?” he smiled, gently, before he kissed me.

*I know this one is cheesy and a bit all over the place-I’m sorry, I have no reason it just kind of came out like that, please, be nice :)*

[smilingping]

Anger Quotes the Latest Collections in 2019  Outrage settle nothing it just sets up your circulatory strain." Catherine Pulsifer "On the off chance that you and I need to work up a hatred tomorrow that may bother over the decades and continue until, death, simply give us a chance to enjoy a bit of stinging analysis - regardless of how certain 

Anger Quotes

When anger Rises,

Think OF the Conse,

Quences.

Top 10 Anger Quotes Best Ever Collections

E is that it is supported." Dale Carnegie, How to win companions and impact individuals

"To be furious is to give others' slip-ups a chance to rebuff yourself." Buddha

"On the off chance that you are quiet in one snapshot of resentment, you will get away from a hundred days of distress." Chinese Proverb

"I lose my temper, yet it's all over in a moment," said the understudy. "So is the nuclear bomb," I answered. "In any case, think about the harm it produces!" George Sweeting

"Dread is the way to the clouded side. Dread prompts outrage. Outrage prompts abhor. Abhor prompts enduring." Yoda

"I was infuriated, for I had no shoes. At that point, I met a man who had no feet." Chinese Proverb

"Amid the day, you can go from assignment to undertaking, to meet every associate and every individual regardless of how disappointing without losing your temper, or appearing by being egotistical or uninformed. All things considered, it is just a single day." Byron Pulsifer, It Is Only For One Day

"It is your regular passionate vitality that emerges when you have a craving for something (or somebody) is blocking you from getting what you need or need. For this reason, anything on the dissatisfaction to see the continuum is viewed as displeasure." Laurie Weiss

"It's you, from the first light to evening time; you when the day is reasonable, you when the tempest is seething - how would you confront lose hope?" Edgar A Guest, What Counts

Most Important Part of Anger Quotes

"My companions, love is superior to outrage. The expectation is superior to fear. Idealism is superior to lose hope. So give us a chance to love, cheerful and hopeful. Also, we'll change the world." Jack Layton, Setting An Example

"Outrage and desire can no more bear to dismiss their items than affection." George Eliot

"Outrage can be a costly extravagance." Italian Proverb

"Outrage smothers the light of the psyche." Robert G. Ingersoll

Also, See: Inspiring Quotes to Move on

When we talk about displeasure the executives, we are discussing how you control your passionate and physiological reactions to circumstances that reason outrage. You can't stay away from these circumstances and you can't abstain from getting to be furious now and again; that is just characteristic. In any case, you can figure out how to control how you respond. James Seals, Anger

At the point when the sentiments of trouble, outrage, and despondency show up, enable them to stream and enable yourself to express the feeling with the expectation of not doing damage to other people. Molly McCord, Conscious Messages

"Regardless of whether we like to let it be known or not, those of us who battle with an unforgiving heart additionally bear a gigantic measure of outrage." Brian Jones, Forgiveness

Outrage is the feeling transcendently useful for the showcase of intensity.

Outrage communicated in a sound and positive way implies that we channel enthusiastic indignation towards goals not assault. Byron R. Pulsifer

"Be that as it may, the day is a relentless deplete of little inconveniences,

"Let not the sun go down your indignation. Outrage must be restricted and bound, both in the race and in time." Francis Bacon, Essays

"Whenever you feel outraged ascending in you, make a separation with yourself. Break up the 'I' that has insulted and you will see that every one of the indications of resentment will vanish."

Outrage is a wild inclination that double-crosses what you are the point at which you are not yourself. Outrage is that ground-breaking inward power that extinguishes the light of reason. Realize that this will generally be the foe: it is outrage, conceived of want."

"Whatever is started in outrage, finishes in disgrace." Benjamin Franklin 

Part 3 Anger Quotes Latest

"... what is clear is the point at which we decline to put on our Compassion Hat and rather clutch disdain, we clutch our own torment, conceivably getting to be what we dislike or don't get it.

At the point when outrage rises, think about the outcomes.

Well known expressions about Life

Incredible annoyance and viciousness can never manufacture a country. Nelson Mandela

Outrage, fear, hostility; the clouded side of the Force are they. Effectively they stream, fast to go along with you in a battle. On the off chance that once you begin down the dull way, perpetually will it command your fate, devour you it will. Yoda

We have frequently heard individuals utilize the articulation "I abhor you" when they are just communicating displeasure. Now and again, nonetheless, exceptional outrage may turn to swell into an expression as we can sensibly mark "tempt," despite the fac expression is transient. Aaron T. Beck M.D., Prisoners Of Hate

While a testing life situation is a certain something, in all actuality, we wouldn't need to deal with our outrage if the general population in our lives would deal with their idiocy.

Being not able to remain calm is no less of a disease than being restless or ditto discouraged, and it merits just as much compassion. John Crawford, Anger Management

Outrage at oneself is a ruinous thing. Qui-Gon Jinn

Talk reality, don't end up irritated and gives when asked, even be it a bit. Buddha

Anger Quotes

Whatever is begun in Anger.

Ends is Shame

"When you perceive that outrage brings you only inner passionate pressure, you are prepared to push ahead with an all the more unmistakably characterized positive activity." Catherine Pulsifer.

"For a few people, sentiments of outrage can be very alarming, so they try to stifle these feelings so as to maintain a strategic distance from strife. Paul Gilbert, PhD

"Controlling displeasure is a customized exercise. What works for me may not work for you. You have to discover what makes you furious." Q. C. Aaron, Anger: Overcoming your Inner Demon

"The best solution for annoyance is the delay." Seneca

"Outrage is never without reason, yet sometimes with a decent one." Benjamin Franklin

... never feeling annoyance may be similarly as unfortunate as encountering over the top indignation. A sound dimension of annoyance implies that we have a feeling of good and bad, that we know when we are being dealt with unreasonably, and that we are eager to go to bat for ourselves when we encounter foul play. At the point when diverted in a solid and beneficial way, outrage can assist us with overcoming obstructions to our prosperity and prosperity. Thomas Westover, Anger Management

"Those caught by their own resentment tirelessly endeavor to constrain others to meet their requests previously they can discover harmony, while the individuals who discover discharge from outrage don't." Les Carter, The Anger Trap

"Pardoning is the way to opening all the displeasure and hurt, the void and obscurity inside. To release love, satisfaction, satisfaction, and light inside I could've been feeling like this from the beginning, you state to yourself." Zaneta Be ever ford, Unleashing The Power Of Forgiveness

"Dangerous indignation can truly hurt your associations with your companion, children, family, and companions. It causes enduring scars in your loved ones most, and it can hinder settling clashes." Alexis G. Roldan, Marriage: How To Rescue Your Marriage

"Poise alludes to controlling one's feelings and sentiments and not losing one's cool even in the most noticeably awful of circumstances." Brian Adams, Self Improvement

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"The best time for you to hold your tongue is the time you believe you should state something or forget about it." Billings

"It doesn't pay to state excessively when you are sufficiently frantic to stifle.

For the word that stings the most profound is the word that is never expressed,

Give the other individual a chance to wrangle till the tempest has overwhelmed,

at that point, he'll complete a stack of reasoning about the things you didn't state." James Whitcomb Riley

"I could see, from the get-go in my profession, that helping my customers deal with their resentment would hugely affect their lives and pay additional profits. The research appears, for instance, that kids are considerably less liable to wind up forceful when their folks and alternate grown-ups around them adequately handle struggle with thoughtfulness." W. Robert Nay, Taking Charge of Anger 

"An essential key in displeasure the executives is recognizing the trigger and what it implies for you." Daniel Brush, Anger Management

"The more indignation towards the past you convey in your heart, the less proficient you are of cherishing in the present." Barbara de Angelis

"But regardless of disdain and outrage for you won't achieve reality except if you go after the adoring soul that re

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