#No way she would have made that a priority while in Spain and she was so happy being closer to her Cuban heritage and was around people who

[vaguely-functional-directions]

I've thought about it and made the decision that it is now canon that Evelyn let her brown hair grow out for most of their time in Spain. When she and Celia got married, she was brunette.

[miras-ash]

Chapter 7 of "Just as the stars love the night"

Mira's pov

After Kali had told me everything about how she had been contacted by an anonymous person who had offered her to continue to deal with Rainbow she had accepted the invitation and had to find out who was behind it all, suddenly a lot of things made sense to me. I still didn't know who Deimos was, I just knew he was going to pay. All this time Eliza was with him, at his mercy, probably waiting for someone to rescue her. Had I failed? Should I not have given up so quickly?

Maybe it was crazy to trust Kali and Nighthaven like that but I had no choice and as she said she didn't need to make up something like that.

While we were still on the plane and flying to Nighthaven Base, we contacted the rest of her squad and held an emergency conference with Osa who would then inform and prepare the others, we had to hurry. The longer we took the more suspicion Deimos would have, Kali could buy herself just 24 hours to get back to him, before that we had to somehow manage to infiltrate his ship, get Eliza and catch him. If we missed the window, everyone was in danger.

"Round up the whole gang, even those who are on vacation or whatever, we need everyone! Also, please pull Grimm off the whole Nokk thing and if he has a problem about it, he has a problem with me. We no longer have a dispute with Rainbow. We have a new common enemy and if we do nothing it could mean the end of us all. Nevertheless, our top priority is to rescue Operator Eliza "Ash" Cohen."

At this, Kali looked at me for a moment, considered for a moment, and then turned to Osa again.

"Kick Ace's ass, tell him to get his act together. I need him and preferably Finka on a team along with Mira. The three of them will serve as an extraction squad to carry out the Scourge rescue. He will be responsible for the initial medical care. I'll leave the rest to you, it's best to always put together teams of 4-5 people. Kali over."

I felt transported back years, back when I was still in Spain and had worked for the police. We had some scourge takings and always I could avoid the worst but now it was not "just" a civilian, it was about a person I love, someone who was everything to me. I had to be fully focused on this, it was the most important mission of my life, failure was not an option.

Apart from that there was another problem, I was not allowed to serve another unit without reasonable agreement between our superiors that could bring me big problems especially Jordan and I didn't want that, for his sake.

"Kali, I think we'll have to see about me joining you in the field later. If we pull this off, they won't care up there why we were there. You guys are a private military service but I'm causing big problems back home with this."

She looked up from her laptop and nodded in affirmation.

"I've already taken care of that, I've drawn up a temporary contract for two years that recruits you to Nighthaven. There's no other way, but this way we can prevent any further inconvenience."

Briefly I had misgivings, but when I thought about it being all about Eliza it was absolutely worth it.

A few hours later we finally arrived. Immediately heading inside the base to get ready. I changed clothes, familiarized myself with a weapon and equipment issued by Nighthaven and followed the others to the assembly point. I was so happy when I saw Finka, not that I felt uncomfortable but it was nice to see a familiar face. I just wished it was a nicer occasion than this. Finka hugged me briefly and Ace gave me his hand, his face strangely serious. I didn't know him like that. No trace of the otherwise so terribly silly and conceited asshole he usually was. Obviously he was good for something in an emergency.

We were briefed on the rest of the plan. While the three of us would just take care of Eliza another small group would gather data that could be useful and the rest would comb the ship looking for Deimos.

Two large stealth helicopters were standing by to take us to our destination.

On the way there it was very quiet, only now and then you heard small snippets of conversation or radio messages. The closer we got to our destination the more nervous I became and that was not good, a cool head was the be-all and end-all of such a situation, so I tried to concentrate.

Osa's voice sounded through the little button in my ear, a final radio check and the info that we were there.

The helicopters were in stealth mode and it was pitch black outside, so no one should see us coming and if they did we just had to be faster than them. We rappelled down, split up and moved forward step by step, all a matter of years of routine, one unit, one goal, that's how we acted. Finka led the way, Kali had given her a map and the approximate route she could remember. Behind her was Ace with his backpack on his back containing everything possible for emergency supplies, and I brought up the rear. Quietly but quickly and determinedly we managed to pass the rear deck, we entered the interior and made our way through the narrow and winding corridors. If someone stood in our way, we simply eliminated him, we showed no mercy. One should never involve one's own feelings in such a thing, but that was simply not possible in this case. I wanted to see them all burn.

Finka looked one last time at the map and an escape plan hanging on the wall to compare them.

"So if I interpreted Kali's description correctly, we're almost there. Just around the corner and then the last door on the left."

We had to hurry, surely we didn't have much time left.

We reached the last room of the hallway as suspected and stood in front of a locked door which Ace kicked in with a firm heave.

Together we entered the room while Lera secured us from outside.

It was dark, cold and smelled unpleasant, I turned on my flashlight and looked around. On the floor were old worn bandages, on the table were untouched scraps of food that were definitely no longer fresh and at the other end of the room was a bed and on it lay something or rather someone. Now that I was standing here, so close to her, I was afraid.

What if I was too late? What if it was all for nothing, or if it wasn't her after all and Kali made a mistake?

So many things were going through my mind at the same time but my legs carried me towards the bed as if by remote control until I came to a stop in front of it. I shone my lamp on the bedspread and the first thing I saw was a tuft of red hair, it was indeed Eliza. I reached out and touched her face, it was cold, bloody and one side was swollen as if something heavy had hit her there recently. Briefly her eyelids fluttered as my fingers touched her cheek, she looked in my direction and in a shaky, scratchy voice said my name then her eyes closed and the corners of her mouth twitched briefly as if she were smiling.

[ptergwen]

smoke and mirrors

⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠

w/c: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut

summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him

a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x

-

your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.

weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?

the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.

it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.

as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.

your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.

you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.

tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.

what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.

“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.

“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.

“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.

the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.

tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.

“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it. 

weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.

smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.

harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.

“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.

“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.

hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.

you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.

tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.

harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.

“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.

“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.

“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”

it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.

“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.

“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”

“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”

the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”

you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.

“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”

you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.

“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.

you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.

you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.

“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.

“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.

she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.

frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.

“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.

you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.

tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.

when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”

you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”

you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.

you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions. 

tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.

“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.

you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.

following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.

you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.

“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.

his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.

“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”

a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”

tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”

that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.

tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.

you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.

“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.

a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”

he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.

“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.

“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.

“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”

tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”

“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”

“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”

tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.

it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.

“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.

“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.

“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.

“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

WIP Wednesday

thanks @noire-pandora @kittynomsdeplume @raflesia65 @starsandskies and @zuendwinkel for WIP Wednesday/whenever. Since finishing IWD my Aeon fic has been priority one. Recently replayed Re4--and also got the teaser for the remake while I was as kind of a happy coincidence. So ofc I had to throw in some of that  

“Like to be a Kennedy though,” she admits. “I always loved Jackie.”

“And me?”

It’s a whisper. It’s a prayer. “More than you,” she answers, knowing later she must repent.  

She’s right. When they’re back in their hotel room, Leon finishing brushing his teeth while Ada bathes, he asks what she meant. 

She leans back against the cool tub, carelessly throwing one soapy leg over the other. “You’ve always been more than just yourself.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Is it? Raccoon City. You were more than just the cop that went back and survived. Government sure wouldn’t have snatched you up otherwise. Spain. Who gave Saddler the good old American boot?” She chuckles to herself. “Remember what he said? That it wouldn’t be some ending to a Hollywood movie?”

“I also remember you in that red dress of yours tossing the rocket launcher instead of…I don’t know, using it.”

“We had our separate ways. Wanted you to be the hero is all. Looked damn good too. Gave Captain American a run for his money”

“Well for the record,” he says between laughter. “You looked good too. Still do”

She beckons him forward. “Come here handsome. I’ll wash your back.”

 the captain america line made me LOL sorry not sorry Leon > capatin america

tagging anybody who would like to participate!

[meirmakesstuff]

1/2 Hi Meir! I saw your answer on WWC, and since you mentioned you're professionals, I figured I'd ask directly: I'm writing a second world fantasy with a jewish coded people. I want to be clear in the coding but avoid the "if there's no egypt, how can there be passover?" so I called them Canaanites. I thought I was being clever by hinting in the naming that the whole region does exist, but I've since read that it might've been a slur in fact? Do you have any advice on this?

2/2 I did consider calling the group in question Jewish, but aside from how deeply Judaism is connected to the history of the Israelites, I haven't used any present-day real-world names for any other group, (I did use some historic names like Nubia). I feel like calling only one group of people by their currently used name would be othering rather than inclusive? Or am I overthinking this?

Okay so I want to start out with some disclaimers, first that although WWC recently reblogged an addition of mine to one of their posts, I am not affiliated with @writingwithcolor​, and second that the nature of trying to answer a question like this is “two Jews, three opinions,” so what I have to say about this is my own opinion(s) only. Last disclaimer: this is a hard question to address, so this answer is going to be long. Buckle up.

First, I would say that you’re right to not label the group in question “Jewish” (I’ll get to the exception eventually), and you’re also right in realizing that you should not call them “Canaanites.” In Jewish scripture, Canaanites are the people we fought against, not ourselves, so that wouldn’t feel like representation but like assigning our identity to someone else, which is a particular kind of historical violence Jews continue to experience today. I’ll get back to the specific question of naming in a moment, but because this is my blog and not WWC, and you asked me to speak to this as an educator, we’re going to take a detour into Jewish history and literary structure before we get back to the question you actually asked.

To my mind there are three main ways to have Jews in second-world fantasy and they are:

People who practice in ways similar to modern real-world Jews, despite having developed in a different universe,

People who practice in ways similar to ancient Hebrews, because the things that changed us to modern Jewish practice didn’t occur, and

People who practice in a way that shows how your world would influence the development of a people who started out practicing like ancient Hebrews and have developed according to the world they’re in. 

The first one is what we see in @shiraglassman​‘s Mangoverse series: there is no Egypt yet her characters hold a seder; the country coded Persian seems to bear no relation to their observance of Purim, and there is no indication of exile or diaspora in the fact that Jews exist in multiple countries and cultures, and speak multiple languages including Yiddish, a language that developed through a mixture of Hebrew and German. Her characters’ observance lines up approximately with contemporary Reform Jewish expectations, without the indication of there ever having been a different practice to branch off from. She ignores the entire question of how Jews in her universe became what they are, and her books are lyrical and sweet and allow us to imagine the confidence that could belong to a Jewish people who weren’t always afraid.

Shira is able to pull this off, frankly, because her books are not lore-heavy. I say this without disrespect--Shira often refers to them as “fluffy”--but because the deeper you get into the background of your world and its development, the trickier this is going to be to justify, unless you’re just going to just parallel every historical development in Jewish History, including exile and diaspora across the various nations of your world, including occasional near-equal treatment and frequent persecution, infused with a longing for a homeland lost, or a homeland recently re-established in the absolutely most disappointing of ways.

Without that loss of homeland or a Mangoverse-style handwaving, we have the second and third options. In the second option, you could show your Jewish-coded culture having never been exiled from its homeland, living divided into tribes each with their own territory, still practicing animal, grain, and oil sacrifice at a single central Temple at the center of their nation, overseen by a tribe that lacks territory of their own and being supported by the sacrifices offered by the populace.

If you’re going to do that, research it very carefully. A lot of information about this period is drawn from scriptural and post-scriptural sources or from archaeological record, but there’s also a lot of Christian nonsense out there assigning weird meanings and motivations to it, because the Christian Bible takes place during this period and they chose to cast our practices from this time as evil and corrupt in order to magnify the goodness of their main character. In any portrayal of a Jewish-coded people it’s important to avoid making them corrupt, greedy, bigoted, bloodthirsty, or stubbornly unwilling to see some kind of greater or kinder truth about the world, but especially if you go with this version. 

The last option, my favorite but possibly the hardest to do, is to imagine how the people in the second option would develop given the influences of the world they’re in. Do you know why Chanukah is referred to as a “minor” holiday? The major holidays are the ones for which the Torah specifies that we “do not work:” Rosh Hashannah, Yom Kippur, and the pilgrimage holidays of Sukkot, Passover, and Shavuot. Chanukah developed as a holiday because the central temple, the one we made those pilgrimages to, was desecrated by the invading Assyrian Greeks and we drove them out and were able to re-establish the temple. That time. Eventually, the Temple was razed and we were scattered across the Roman Empire, developing the distinct Jewish cultures we see today. The Greeks and Romans aren’t a semi-mythologized ancient people, the way the Canaanites have been (though there’s increasing amounts of archaeology shedding light on what they actually might have been like), we have historical records about them, from them. The majority of modern Jewish practice developed from the ruins of our ancient practices later than the first century CE. In the timeline of Jewish identity, that’s modern.

The rabbinic period and the Temple period overlap somewhat, but we’re not getting into a full-scale history lesson here. Suffice it to say that it was following the loss of the sacrificial system at the central Temple that Judaism coalesced an identity around verbal prayer services offered at the times of day when we would previously have offered sacrifices, led each community by its own learned individual who became known as a rabbi. We continued to develop in relationship with the rest of the world, making steps toward gender equality in the 1970s and LGBT equality in the 2000s, shifting the meaning of holidays like Tu Bishvat to address climate change, debating rulings on whether one may drive a car on Shabbat for the sake of being with one’s community, and then pivoting to holding prayer services daily via Zoom.

The history of the Jews is the history of the world.  Our iconic Kol Nidrei prayer, the centerpiece of the holiest day of the year, that reduces us to tears every year at its first words, was composed in response to the Spanish Inquisition. The two commentators who inform our understanding of scripture--the ones we couldn’t discuss Torah without referencing even if we tried--wrote in the 11th and 12th centuries in France and Spain/Egypt. Jewish theology and practice schismed into Orthodox and Reform (and later many others) because that’s the kind of discussion people were into in the 19th century. Sephardim light Chanukah candles in an outdoor lamp while Ashkenazim light Chanukah candles in an indoor candelabrum because Sephardim developed their traditions in the Middle East and North Africa and the Ashkenazim developed our traditions in freezing Europe. There are works currently becoming codified into liturgy whose writers died in 2000 and 2011. 

So what are the historical events that would change how your Jewish-coded culture practices, if they don’t involve loss of homeland and cultural unity? What major events have affected your world? If there was an exile that precipitated an abandonment of the sacrificial system, was there a return to their land, or are they still scattered? Priority one for us historically has been maintaining our identity and priority two maintaining our practices, so what have they had to shift or create in order to keep being a distinct group? Is there a major worldwide event in your world? If so, how did this people cope?

If you do go this route, be careful not to fall into tropes of modern or historical antisemitism: don’t have your culture adopt a worldview that has their deity split into mlutiple identities (especially not three). Don’t have an oppressive government that doesn’t represent its people rise up to oppress outsiders within its borders (this is not the first time this has occurred in reality, but because the outside world reacts differently to this political phenomenon when it’s us than when it’s anyone else, it’s a portrayal that makes real-life Jews more vulnerable). And don’t portray the people as having developed into a dark and mysterious cult of ugly, law-citing men and beautiful tearstreaked women, but it doesn’t sound as if you were planning to go there.

So with all that said, it’s time to get back to the question of names. All the above information builds to this: how you name this culture depends on how you’ve handled their practice and identity. 

Part of why Shira Glassman’s handwaving of the question of how modern Jewish practice ended up in Perach works is that she never gives a name to the religion of her characters. Instead, she names the regions they come from. Perach, in particular, the country where most of the action takes place, translates to “Flower.” In this case, her Jewish-coded characters who come from Perach are Perachis, and characters from other places who are also Jewish are described as “they worship as Perachis do despite their different language” or something along those lines (forgive me, Shira, for half-remembering).

So that’s method one: find an attribute of your country that you’d like to highlight, translate it into actual Hebrew, and use that as your name.

Method two is the opposite: find a name that’s been used to identify our people or places (we’ve had a bunch), find out what it means or might mean in English, and then jiggle that around until it sounds right for your setting. You could end up with the nation of the Godfighters, or Children of Praise, The Wanderers (if they’re not localized in a homeland), The Passed-Over, Those From Across The River, or perhaps the people of the City of Peace.

Last, and possibly easiest, pick a physical attribute of their territory and just call them that in English. Are they from a mountainous region? Now they’re the Mountain People. Does their land have a big magical crater in the middle? Craterfolk. Ethereal floating forests of twinkling lights? It’s your world.

The second option is the only one that uses the name to overtly establish Jewish coding. The first option is something Jews might pick up on, especially if they speak Hebrew, but non-Jews would miss. The third avoids the question and puts the weight of conveying that you’re trying to code them as Jewish on their habits and actions.

There’s one other option that can work in certain types of second-world fantasy, and that’s a world that has developed from real-world individuals who went through some kind of portal. That seems to me the only situation in which using a real-world name like Jews, Hebrews, or Israelites would make sense. Jim Butcher does this with the Romans in the Codex Alera series, and Katharine Kerr does it with Celts in the Deverry cycle. That kind of thing has to be baked into the world-building, though, so it probably doesn’t help with this particular situation. 

This is a roundabout route to what I imagine you were hoping would be an easier answer. The tension you identified about how to incorporate Jewishness into a world that doesn’t have the same history is real, and was the topic of a discussion I recently held with a high school age group around issues of Jewish representation in the media they consume and hope to create. Good luck in your work of adding to the discussion.

[sailorgreywolf-legacy]

Perspective flip… Tony’s view during the meeting where he sees Guerrero and calls him a half breed?

He had imagined this meeting so many times since he had decided to put down this rebellion himself. In his mind’s eye Mexico was always returned to him in chains, and he had hoped that it would go that way. 

It was evident that Iturbide’s defection had swung the tide of war against Spain. He would have to accept a meeting where Mexico was coming of his own accord. Spain wasn’t entirely certain what to expect. When he imagined his dearest colony, he imagined him slightly unkempt and in need of his care. Spain was quite certain that Mexico was not prepared to be a soldier and was suffering from the lost of his comfortable court life. 

The door opened and Mexico entered, flanked by the traitors who fancied themselves generals. Spain was disappointed by the sight since he had specifically requested to see Mexico alone. But he realized that he should have known better, since the mortals had to maintain their hold on him. 

Spain knew in his heart that Mexico had been influenced by rebels and bandits; the rebellion was not his own deeply held conviction. If they let him speak to the boy alone, their entire rebellion would fall apart. Spain knew Mexico better than anyone, and he knew that he could appeal to their shared bond once they were alone. 

It was clear that Mexico had never gotten any of his letters. Undoubtedly these so-called leaders were throwing them away to avoid reminding the boy of where his loyalties lay. 

His first priority had to be stripping those poisonous men from Mexico’s side. He glanced at both of them to identify his enemies. Spain could easily identify Iturbide since he had been the one to promote the traitor. No one knew exactly what he expected to get out of supporting the independence. Spain could certainly guess with how ambitious Iturbide was. 

His gaze moved to the other man in uniform. His face was unfamiliar, but it was not difficult to guess who he was. Iturbide had given him the name a while ago. Vicente Guerrero, his supposed rival. He could see how the man seemed to be standing closer to Mexico, as if he expected to be able to pull him away at any moment. 

He could see how young the man looked, hardly old enough for command. What surprised him the most was how common the man looked. He was every inch a common mulatto. His black blood was obvious from the proportions of his face. Certainly, an uncommon beauty like Mexico could choose better and could have anyone he wanted. 

When Spain had tried to picture the man who had temped Mexico, he had not imagined someone so plain. It must have been the novelty that was tempting. The whole experience was something new, but novelty would fade. 

Only once he had surveyed the uninvited guests, he turned to Mexico. He was handsome as ever, but there was the ghost of his mother in his face. All the time in the sun had darkened his skin, and he was wearing his hair long. It made him look like the spitting image of the Aztec empire. Spain had never quite realized before that Mexico’s face was nearly identical to his mother’s. 

Spain had the strongest urge to seize him by the hair and cut it short. It did not suit him so long. And the unshakable image of Aztec’s ghost in his face made Spain feel decidedly unsettled. It was like she was haunting him in a way he had never fully realized before.

Mexico looked like someone had dressed him up in a uniform to make him look like an officer. There was gold stitched into his collar and gold in the threads of his epaulettes. He guessed it was Iturbide’s money that had furnished it, and Mexico had agreed to it because he couldn’t resist the lure of riches. 

He did have to admit that there was something sexy about the uniform. He could clearly visualize putting Mexico on his knees and leaving stains all over that fresh new uniform. Only then would he strip it off and remind him where he belonged. The thought made him feel hot under his uniform. 

He heard the way that Mexico drew in a breath like he could imagine what Spain was thinking. There was a moment of silence before he realized that Mexico was waiting for him to speak. 

Spain met his eyes, and in the moment, he decided that he should first approach the boy softly. It was his best chance to convince Mexico to be alone with him. If the boy did not agree to be alone, he would get harsher. He said, using the tone he usually reserved for the time that they were together, “I have missed you, Ale.” 

He saw the slightest glimmer in the other’s eyes. Spain didn’t feel like there was a point in speaking to Guerrero or Iturbide. He only intended to convince Mexico to leave this negotiation with him. The others were superfluous. 

Mexico said, “And I was hoping to never see you again.” The wit was familiar. The accent was not. When Mexico had left him, his accent had the lovely Castilian cadence from his upbringing. It seemed to have given way to a disgustingly common colonial accent. It seemed like such an obvious sign of the way that time around soldiers had tainted him. 

It was also possible that he was putting on the colonial accent so that the men around him didn’t realize what a little prince he was. He refused to believe that several centuries of Spanish education had been erased by a couple of years with the common soldier. No matter how much he wanted to pretend he had changed, Mexico could only do so much to hide the truth of how refined he was.

Spain let himself voice the distain, “You have developed the most provincial accent.” 

He intended it to be a warning to Mexico that he was not accepting the front he was putting on. Mexico allowed the slightest frown to appear on his face. 

Spain could have spent significant time picking apart the ways that Mexico had changed, but he would wait until they were alone. He said, cutting to the chase, “I wanted to talk to you alone, but I knew that these two would never let you out of their sight. Surely we don't need the traitor and the half-breed here." 

He was being intentionally inflammatory because he wanted the mortals to know how little he valued them. He saw the way Guerrero reacted. There was a momentary grimace on his face, and Spain could even see the way that his hands seemed to curl into fists. 

He was not surprised that he could get a rise out of the man so easily. Refinement and control were not easy to learn for someone who did not naturally have either. 

He also saw the way that Mexico’s jaw tightened. He was defensive of the man. That was deeply irritating. Mexico looked like he was trying very hard to hold back anger as he said, “They don’t trust you for good reason.” 

Spain found the answer ludicrous, since there was no good reason. If he was alone with Mexico he was not going to attack him, or attempt to capture him. Though the thought had occurred to him to snatch Mexico away, it would have been too reckless in his position. But the reason was not that he was a threat; it was that he may convince Mexico if given the chance. 

He replied with a scoff, “If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have asked to meet. I want to talk to you and no one else." He did not say what he would have said one on one. He intended to say that he had no intention of hurting Mexico if he gave himself up. If he was penitent, then he would not need to punish him as extensively. 

He noticed the way that Guerrero moved ever so slightly closer to Mexico. It was very clear that he was ready for a threat. Spain was tempted to push him further and challenge him to a fight for Mexico. The man was so arrogant that he had no idea how quickly he would lose. 

The man said, sounding very much like he wanted a fight, “This isn't about what you want." 

The impudence in the comment made anger rise in his chest. The man did not deserve to touch Mexico, and he felt like he had equal ground to speak to him like that. He had mistaken the status that a lawless insurrection had given him for real power. 

Spain immediately decided that he was going to drive a wedge between him and Mexico so he would understand that he did not belong. He did not deserve to have him in the first place. He said, speaking to the man, “Oh, this one likes you. Do you really know him as well as you think?" 

In truth he had no idea what Mexico had told the man, but he was certain that it was not everything. Once he realized that he was the inferior choice, he would pull away from Mexico. He saw the way that the mortal cringed and struggled to respond. His face gave enough of an answer; it was clear that he did not know much about Mexico. 

Spain turned to Mexico to get the confirmation of his answer, “Have you told him about us?” 

It was only a feigned interest since he already knew the answer. The boy certainly had not told his fling that there was someone that knew him more intimately and had for centuries. He knew the look on Mexico’s face in response. It was the one he always made when he was confronted with some fib he had told. He had made the same face ever since he was a child. 

Mexico said, sounding like he was clenching his teeth as he said, “It is not relevant to this conversation." It was just as good as a confession. He had hidden it because he knew that no mortal could ever live up to what he had for so long. Spain said, voicing the thought since the boy would not, “So you have not?” 

Mexico glared at him, and it only served as further confirmation. He looked like a sulky teenager, and it did nothing to dissuade Spain. Mexico was clearly afraid that his newfound leaders would begin to doubt him once they knew the whole truth. Spain intended to create exactly that kind of distrust. If he could pry apart their alliance, then he could work on getting Mexico back into his arms. 

With the doubt planted, he turned to Guerrero and said, “Well, then I will tell you. You may be occupying it for the time, but it is still my land." 

He was certain that they both understood exactly what he was saying. Mexico looked mortified, and Spain knew exactly why. The boy had always resented the idea that he was property. In any other circumstances Spain would not have said it, since he considered their relationship to be far more than that. But he needed the mortal to understand that he was touching someone who was not his.

The grimace on the man’s unremarkable face said that he did understand. Guerrero said, “It won't be your land for much longer. Have you noticed that you are losing the war?" 

Again, the impudence made Spain more determined to crush the man. He had far too much confidence for his position; he didn’t realize how quickly he would be cast aside once his military skill was no longer needed. Though Mexico had a tendency to hold onto people he cared about, Spain knew he could not concede that. He turned to Guerrero and responded, “You do not worry me. You are a curiosity and Ale gets bored of his toys eventually." 

He could tell that Mexico was offended by the statement. On some level he must be aware that it was not true, though he would doubt himself. But it was far more important that the mortal doubted Mexico’s commitment, and he would because he did not know the boy as well as he’d like to believe. 

He was surprised when Iturbide cut in, “Is there a diplomatic reason for this or did you just want a chance to vent your bile?" 

Spain was surprised only because he had guessed that the man was enough of a manipulator to see what he was doing. It may not be diplomatically relevant, but the cracks that he made at this moment would grow. It was important work to undermine the whole fragile alliance. 

He waved away Iturbide, “Quiet, traitor. This isn't about you." He was well aware of Iturbide’s vanity, and how the dismissal would hurt. The look on Iturbide’s face told him that it had been effective. 

He continued to push the division he had already made. He looked back to Guerrero and said, “He is already moving on, so you must not be that interesting. He's found another already." 

Internally he doubted that Mexico had that kind of interest in Iturbide. He did not tend to be so fickle. Spain was certain that Mexico could see that the man was treacherous and conniving and would not feel that sort of attraction. But there was a purpose to suggesting that Mexico was moving from one to the other. It would make both men doubt his intentions, and it would pit them against each other. 

He could see the way that Mexico was boiling under the surface. How he loathed the old court rumors, and he was not hiding his own anger. He said, trying and failing to sound stoic, “Do not presume that you know anything about it." 

It was so clear that he hadn’t expected Spain to be so adept at touching on his insecurities. But Spain knew exactly what angered him. He had learned it years ago. 

Spain smirked at how easy it was to rile him up. He leaned forward so that Mexico could get his point very clearly, “If I am not right, then why is everything you're wearing new?" 

He saw Mexico shift uncomfortably at what he was implying. Spain could guess the answer: because his little prince had never been able to turn his nose up at something new and expensive. He was weak for flattery and gifts and had always been. For the sake of further provoking Mexico, he added, “I paid better."

The boy was livid, and Spain could tell. Mexico may have thought that he was hiding it, but his face betrayed his anger. Spain noticed Guerrero glance at Iturbide with barely concealed suspicion. It was all just as he planned. 

Mexico seemed to be trying to take control of the conversation as he said, “How much longer are you going to insult me before you offer me your surrender?" 

In a way it was charming that he was so optimistic, but he also must have known that there was no chance. Spain had no intention of surrendering until there was no conceivable way to win, and he had not yet reached that point. With the divisions he had already created, there was a possibility that the insurgency would fall apart. The moment it did, Spain would seize the opportunity. 

He shook his head and said, “My dear boy, I have no intention of surrendering. I am giving you the last chance to give yourself up." 

He didn’t genuinely expect the boy to accept, since he had no idea of the dangers that independence would bring. He thought to himself: My dear, I don’t intend for you to surrender; I intend for them to doubt you. I want you to struggle to gain their trust. 

Mexico laughed like he found the idea utterly ridiculous. The rebellion must have had a terrible impact on his sense of decorum. That kind of disrespect would have earned him a backhand. There would be work to do to get him back in line once the rebellion was over. 

The boy said, with the most insolent smirk, “You have lost and you expect me to surrender out of pity? Or can you really not face it? You only have the capital and Veracruz, unless am I mistaken." He then turned to Iturbide and asked, feigning that he did not know the answer, “Have we lost territory that I am not aware of?" he mortal responded immediately, “No, we still hold all of the country with the exception of the capital and Veracruz." 

Spain found the whole performance rather irritating. What a good parrot Iturbide was being. There must be something very impressive promised if Iturbide was willing to play this part. 

Mexico smirked and turned back to him to say, “So, what reason would I have to surrender?" 

Spain’s hand itched to correct how smug Mexico was being. He really had let his own discipline slip. Spain supplied the answer that he would have said if they had been able to speak alone, “You don't know what I have protected you from. If you win, the most powerful empire will take you, if I don't take you back. You will fail at the first challenge and be subject to whoever takes the opportunity. I am a kinder master." 

Though Spain had been intentionally lying for most of the conversation, this part was true. He had spent centuries seeing the way that France and England looked at his favorite colony. They wanted his wealth and beauty for themselves, and Spain had done everything in his power to keep them far away. A weak Mexican state would simply be an easy target for any of them. 

Mexico didn’t understand because he had been so well protected. He could see from the look on the boy’s face that Mexico did not take his warning seriously. Mexico leaned forward and said, “You were never kind. I would rather take my chances with anyone else than go back to you." 

It felt so dishonest and intentionally cruel to deny the two centuries of love between them that Spain felt like he had to respond in kind. He knew exactly where to hit. He leaned forward and said, “You were never innocent. Pretend that you never asked for it, but you enjoyed my attentions." 

Mexico pulled away like he could not stand to be close to him anymore. He seemed to collect himself and then he smiled and said, “Goodbye, Tony. I will see you on the battlefield, if you have the courage to face me." 

As he turned to walk away, Spain felt a surge of frustration. It felt like Mexico was leaving him permanently, and he could not face it. All of his rational plans vanished and he said, “You're making a big mistake, boy. You will always be selfish and reckless and you will never succeed on your own!" 

Mexico didn’t even look back at him as he left. Once the door closed, Spain let out an angry snort like a bull. He turned and, overcome with his anger and frustration, punched the wall behind him. He heard one of the knuckles crack. It hurt, but it eased some of his seething anger.

As he pushed the broken bone back into place to heal, he tried to think about what would come next.

[shihalyfie]

Kizuna drama CD: Detail spotting and nuance analysis

02 involved displaying its group dynamic through mundane interactions and wacky hijinks, and the circumstances of an eight-year block of time between Kizuna and 02, plus the fact that Hikari and Takeru operate separately from the others due to the movie’s circumstances, mean that the drama CD centering around the group is actually our most reliable source of info regarding how they’re doing at this time and how their group dynamic is going. Much like 02 itself, getting a lot of this nuance requires reading between the lines, so let’s take a closer look!

Since this is a drama CD and not animated material, I’ll be going through this in bullet points instead of screenshots.

The fact that the drama CD itself deliberately uses the same format as a 02 episode carries a very strong implication that, unlike their seniors who are going through an existential crisis about how much of their childhood experiences they can bring with them into adulthood, the 02 group is still roughly able to recreate the same atmosphere they had eight years ago. Noticeably, the ending song chosen for this is the first ED (Tomorrow My Wind Will Blow), the more lighthearted one used for the first half, before a lot of really emotionally vicious things started happening to them.

The phrase “it’s been a while” and variants thereof come up between this group a lot within this drama CD (and once in the movie itself, from Hawkmon to the others). Look closely at the circumstances of this drama CD and how everyone seems to be very intimately aware of each other’s situations, and the fact that this story obviously takes place only a short time before the movie itself -- so it really hasn’t been a very long time at all, but apparently even that much is considered a “long time” for them. (It also seems like they’re going out of their way to make sure they’re still keeping in regular contact even when they can’t actually meet up.)

Daisuke says, very clearly, that Iori was the one he intended to approach “first” because he was so busy -- but he’s shown walking in with Takeru, meaning that the two of them are on very good terms now and seem to have been hanging out independently.

Daisuke wanted his plan to be a “surprise” reveal to the others, and the actual practical purpose of his plan (it being a career study trip for him) seems to have been very low on the priority list to the point it takes the CD’s entire half-hour runtime for him to finally bring it up. Before then, he’d been cheerfully fantasizing about all the fun things he’d get to do with them, and it even says a lot that he’d also wanted to discuss this at a karaoke bar of all things, so, really, in his head, “hanging out with friends and having fun with them” is the actual priority (especially since there’s basically no reason he needs to have the others on his ramen research trip, he just wants them there because he does).

The fact that the boys have to sneak in the Digimon to avoid getting extra charges means that society will now recognize them as patrons to be regularly charged.

Daisuke is asked by Iori which people he intends to bring to his trip, which implies that the 02 group isn’t technically an exclusive club or anything...but then Daisuke proceeds to list off the 02 group by name, implying that this group does indeed have a particularly elevated level of importance to him.

Look carefully at the nuances surrounding whom Daisuke wants to invite to his trip: he wanted to invite the seniors as well, but resigned himself to the fact it’d probably be impossible because they were too busy...only for the others to point out that the rest of the 02 group is also busy, but everyone is confident that they’ll make it work, and Daisuke wants them there to the point of listing them by name. So in other words, Daisuke likes everyone and would like everyone around in the ideal situation, but when push comes to shove, the rest of the 02 group is whom he really wants to have around, and said group can be reliably counted on to do whatever it takes to make it work.

The way everyone casually describes each other's circumstances (and in specific detail, not just generally describing what they're up to) says a lot; Armadimon's still talking with Hawkmon about Miyako (meaning Miyako and Iori are still regularly in contact), Takeru's up-to-date with Ken's life to the point of knowing his upcoming schedule, Daisuke's fully aware of how busy Iori is, and, later, the one to affectionately greet Hawkmon is none other than Wormmon, who, back in 02, used to only really be close with Ken himself and V-mon. You can see that everyone’s still constantly involved in each other’s lives, including their own partners being up-to-date on each other (compare the more distant relationship their seniors are portrayed with in the movie itself, both with each other and with their partners), and you can also see that Ken and Wormmon have fully integrated themselves into the group to the point it’s a completely casual affair (Iori, the one who infamously had the longest and most drawn-out process in accepting Ken, is the one to personally ask him about his preferences).

That said, note that Takeru and Iori still seem to be on surname basis with Ken, even despite obviously being much closer with him than they were before; unfortunately, it seems that having been on surname basis with him so long in 02 became a habit, leaving Daisuke and Miyako as the only ones currently known to have switched to given name basis with him.

It’s interesting that Ken, not Daisuke, is the one explicitly stated to be keeping up with soccer to the point of having schedule commitments, whereas no mention of this whatsoever is made with Daisuke, and it’s entirely possible that Daisuke actually quit playing it in an organized fashion. This is, however, consistent with their personalities, in that Ken would likely want to keep up with organized extracurricular hobbies, whereas Daisuke may enjoy soccer as a hobby, but not enough to continue committing to a high-level team. (Remember that Daisuke took a while to get a regular position even back in elementary school; as much as he liked the sport, he also wasn’t particularly outstanding at it, and especially not in comparison to Taichi, Sora, or Ken.)

Miyako leaving for Spain seems to have been a recent thing, since it has to actively be brought up in conversation as a reminder (and Daisuke seemed to initially have not taken into account that she wouldn’t be easily able to join the trip in that case, since the issue of the D-3 hadn’t come up yet). When she shows up later in person, everyone’s shocked, as if it’s unnerving for her to be back in Japan already.

Daisuke still seems to have a thing for Hikari, but note that this doesn’t really go beyond “wanting to hang out with Hikari a lot”. Also, he says this in plain view of Takeru without bringing him up at all, and Takeru himself has nothing to say about it (not even awkward laughter), meaning that he really has no object in this whatsoever.

It’s interesting to see that Armadimon, who used to have to ask about how human society works quite often in 02, is now well-versed enough in Japanese culture to be really passionate about it.

As usual, Iori does not mince words (when it's about Nagoya specialty food, at least).

Also as usual, Ken is surprisingly academic about his interests and a huge nerd.

Note Takeru's awkward "I don't really want to insult you, but also, that's weird" reaction to Ken’s speech about the hot springs -- very classic Takeru, not quite being honest for the sake of keeping the peace and awkwardly trying to be nice about it -- in contrast to Daisuke, who just honestly goes straight for the commentary. That said, regardless of how unusual of a hobby everyone around him clearly finds it, note how they all still decide to accommodate it anyway and support his interest in it.

Hypocritically, V-mon calls Daisuke out for being “embarrassing” regarding his fixation on Hikari, only to suddenly get caught off-guard by Tailmon shortly after...

Hikari's behavior has the most clear-cut contrast from herself in 02, consisting of her very assertively stating what she wants, for herself -- very important because her problems in 02 revolved around her compulsively being unable to voice her own thoughts if it meant putting a burden on others. Here, Hikari gets argumentative about what she, personally, wants to do. Given that she doesn’t quite act like this in front of her seniors in the course of the movie, and is depicted as being particularly in-sync with Miyako here -- and given how Miyako was instrumental in reaching out to her during the events of 02 -- it’s pretty easy to see how Hikari became able to assert herself like this.

Similarly, much like how Tailmon was portrayed as lightening up a bit between Adventure and 02 thanks to her new, happier life, here, she seems to be exactly on the same page as Hikari in terms of wanting to fight people for something materialistic.

Hawkmon says that it's "only natural" for them to show up whenever this group is getting together, and, indeed, Miyako was technically uninvited because everyone thought she was busy in Spain -- but was clearly in contact with them (or at least Hikari) to know that this meeting was happening. (There’s probably a group chat.)

This is implied to be the first time the 02 group has seriously considered using D-3 gate exploitation to visit each other and to travel. The group had already made use of this exploitation during 02 itself (to have Palmon delivered to New York back in 02 episode 38 and to meet up in the Digital World), but it is true that they hadn’t been necessarily using it even when it arguably would be more convenient than Tokyo transportation and Imperialdramon. So in other words, for the last eight years, through all the meetups they seem to have been having with each other (and remember, Ken lived in Tamachi, not Odaiba, at the time of 02, and there’s no guarantee that nobody in the Odaiba neighborhood didn’t move at some point), they were perfectly fine with using the inconvenience of Tokyo transportation to meet each other, or to meet up in the Digital World instead -- but then Miyako found herself in another country, and decided that she wasn't going to stand for being separated from the others for too long.

As usual, Hawkmon still has to be Miyako’s concerned minder when she’s on the verge of going out of control.

Miyako had already been implied to be in Barcelona thanks to the scenery outside her window and the movie end credits, but her speech about Spain drives it in even further with the Gaudí references.

Despite Spain being possibly the one of the worst possible options for what's later revealed to be Daisuke's motive for this trip (ramen research), it seems that Miyako baiting him with mention of the soccer league was enough to get him momentarily distracted (and also indicates that Daisuke still clearly has an active interest in soccer even if he may not be regularly playing anymore).

Speaking of which, it’s pretty obvious that Miyako knew exactly what to bait Daisuke with in order to do this.

Takeru, the group's resident moderator, is of course the one to step in and prevent Tailmon and Armadimon from wreaking too much havoc (Daisuke is mostly just slightly intimidated) -- but you might also notice that he's otherwise not saying anything about the group's chaotic antics, and in fact is guilty of enabling them even further...

Daisuke continues to have his penchant for pointing out the elephant in the room -- he's exactly right, how is Wormmon supposed to put on skis?

It is, of course, only natural that Miyako would be sensitive to knowing about currency exchange and the use of American dollars in the Digital World, given that she presumably hasn't forgotten the Digitamamon incident from 02 episode 14.

For the first time in 19 real-life years, we finally learn what Daisuke’s original motive for wanting to get into ramen making was: in true Daisuke fashion, he himself has no idea (but he just really likes ramen).

Daisuke "credits" his friends for giving him insightful advice and helpful resources in thinking about his career and future plans, but, as it turns out, everyone else wasn't thinking nearly as much of it -- either they hardly remember it, or it wasn't actually supposed to mean anything insightful. It's obviously not to say that they're not fully supportive of him (the events of this drama CD blatantly indicate otherwise), but rather that Daisuke attributes everything important and helpful in his life to his friends to ridiculous degrees, even when it's something completely ordinary like a train ticket that anyone should know about.

As always, Daisuke is very realistically aware of his own limitations, admitting freely that he was actually lacking in experience and insight to follow his dream (especially since he took the "advice" from his friends very, very seriously).

Note how quickly everyone changes their tune and immediately decides to unequivocally support Daisuke the moment they realize there's actually a very important reason to him that he wants to go on this trip.

Also note that when Hikari compliments Daisuke, Daisuke is completely at a loss -- yet again, Daisuke's been so busy rolling around for Hikari's approval that he hasn't accounted for what to do when he actually gets it.

Daisuke picking New York, of all locations, as his stop to research ramen certainly explains why Ken has to ask "why ramen?" during the movie itself -- as this drama CD indicates, and as per the events of 02 episode 50, he absolutely knows why Daisuke would want to get ramen, but ramen in New York, which isn't exactly the cultural center of ramen making, is a different story.

The fact that this was a planned multi-day trip also explains why the group changes clothes and is in New York for multiple days over the course of the movie (because they probably had a hotel, too). It also further contextualizes the likely reason Miyako felt like dealing with Menoa’s request was too much work -- she wanted to be on this trip instead -- and says a lot about how she’ll dump a request on her seniors when it’s too much hassle for her, but accept that same request back if it’s something she gets to do with her friends.

Takeru and Hikari are explicitly stated to be scheduled to join the trip on the second day, meaning that them operating separately from the quartet during the events of the movie was sheer scheduling circumstance -- and since we find out in the movie that Takeru was the one to inform Yamato about Daisuke's whereabouts, this CD here clarifies that Takeru has this knowledge because he himself was set to be on this trip (and would have been, if the events of the movie hadn't gotten in the way).

Probably the most interesting take-home from this narrative is how absurdly close the 02 group is portrayed as, and in very, very stark contrast to their seniors in the movie itself -- who are said to be drifting apart as they all find their individual paths. Here, the 02 group is the opposite; while they do seem to have their own goals (Hikari and Daisuke are outright identified as having some of the clearest ones), it’s obvious that those goals are secondary to being able to hang out with and support each other (in other words, they still have those goals, but they’re much lower priorities for them). This is consistent with how these dynamics were portrayed back in 02, since the Adventure group had been portrayed as being prone to drifting apart as early as Our War Game!, whereas the 02 group was built from the ground up as needing each other’s mutual support much more deeply -- it’s just that, now that they’re all much older, this distinction in group dynamic is much more prominent.

[sorcerersofnyc]

The Last Thing Life (Zemo x F!Reader) 2.5/9 Standalone Short

Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.

Zemo leaves you alone while he takes care of business. He makes a stop to mourn his losses and you take a step toward friendship.

Angst, various mentions of death & mourning, Zemo's wife's name is Heike because of comics.

Note: Main Character is neutral in most regards, but the story was written with my own cultural background in mind. (In other words, I won't say what she looks like but I envision her as being black.)

I took this scene from the previous chapter. But I liked it so much I posted it as a standalone.

First Chapter | Previous

The house in San Sebastian was impressive; a large sand-colored building with a pitched low roof and deep red tiles. Plants grew in pots below the bay window of the parlor and two imposing columns stood sentry on either side of the door.

It was a cheerful facade, a house meant to please tourists and other summertime guests. The inside, however, was filled with dread. Thick layers of dust settled across each surface, cobwebs took residence along the walls, and the air was stale. Even the light which filtered in through the dark green curtains was listless, almost gray.

This house hadn’t seen a visitor in years.

“You may redecorate if you’d like.” He told you, “Oeznik will ensure you have everything you need, including a hotel for the night.”

You flickered on a light and looked around briefly.

“You’re not staying?” You asked, turning around to face him. Your voice was pitched higher than usual, and the vulnerability in your tone gave him pause.

For as long as he’s known you, such openness had never been directed his way.

“Of course.” He made his voice soft for you. “I’ll be returning to Sokovia to settle legal matters and see to my military duties.”

“When will you come back?”

“Soon.”

Helmut was true to his word and returned within a week; He was given special leave from his military duties (being a Baron and losing his entire family earned him much reprieve.)

It took mere days to complete his work, but he lingered there. Tents and shelters lined the crater that used to be Novi Grad. Dozens of angry people shouted in protest at the vans that lined the makeshift streets. There was still rubble to clear, mouths to feed, insurance to be paid, and loved one’s to bury. But even as the clouds gathered, the people screamed louder and the soldiers used force to keep them in line, he stayed in camp with his former charges, toasting with them one last time.

Oeznik kept him updated; he left messages about the status of the house cleaning, the laptop he asked him to procure, and how you seemed to be doing. He took care to be delicate in his phrasing but it was nearly always the same: you were doing poorly.

But before he could leave his homeland behind, Helmut returned to the place where his home once stood, the estate he shared with his son and wife, just outside of Novi Grad.

He stood for what felt like hours, committing the sight to memory; the bricks and splinters of his home, intermixed with rocks and parts of buildings from the city.

It was a difficult sight, but he would never forget what he lost that day, what was taken, and what would never come to be.

So long as the Avengers exist, he thought, someone will rise to challenge them .

So Helmut made a promise that day, one he would keep no matter what the sacrifice.

*

When he returned to the airfield to board his private jet, Oeznik was there to greet him stoically. He was supposed to be in Spain, but Helmut didn’t care to address his rogue priorities. He didn’t have the energy.

“Sir,” Oeznik nodded, handing him a colorful bag tied with string. “It’s your annual delivery.”

Helmut placed the bag inside his coat pocket, took a seat, and asked for a glass of whiskey.

Then another.

Then another.

He slept the ill-effects away, staving off the worst of it before the plane arrived in Spain six hours later.

It was dusk when he entered through the front door, his military coat slung over his shoulder like a sack.

The entire house was spotless now, the air smelled faintly of lemon water and bleach.

There was a lamp in the parlor that wasn't there before, a sort of abstract statement piece.

“Helmut?" Your voice carried across the room as you padded down the stairwell, your voice dripping with relief.

Had you not believed him when he said he was returning? He wondered, or did you believe something happened on the way?

“I’m sorry," he stated, "I didn't expect my business to keep me away.”

“No, it’s alright. I just…How are you feeling?” Your words were careful, polite. Unlike the day he left, you kept your emotions tightly reigned.

You were worried about him, and if he didn't find your feelings bothersome, he'd think it was quite touching.

It was, after all, Carl’s 8th birthday.

Silence settled between the two of you, but your gaze did not relent. He never realized you were stubborn.

“Here," Helmut pulled the colorful bag Oeznik gave him from the pocket of his coat. He offered it to you instead of answering.

You opened it and peered inside.

“Candy?”

“Turkish Delights; they were Carl’s favorite, you know.”

You knew, and he knew that you knew, but you let him go on anyway, allowing him time to grieve in his own way.

“I promised to buy him an Xbox. I applied for Leave two weeks early just to help him celebrate. He was so happy.” Helmut’s voice was soft as he spoke, low and filled with sorrow.

There were no words for what he was now, not in Sokovian or any other language he knew; He was a father without a child.

He didn't expect anything of you, not comfort or empty words. Luckily, you didn't offer either of those things.

You didn't say anything at all. Instead, you took a single shaky breath and approached him.

Your steps were uncertain at first, as if you were approaching something broken. And perhaps he was—because Helmut felt as though he needed to brace himself when you placed your hand against his shoulder.

Moving slowly, you slid your hand lower and brought them together on the other side.

You were hugging him.

And though your shape felt foreign in his arms and he feared you’d catch the smell of whiskey on his breath, he returned your hesitant embrace.

“I’m here for you,” you promised, “for whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” He could appreciate your kindness, but you couldn’t give him what he needed.

He allowed himself to linger, to stay with you for just a while longer, even when there was little else to say.

*

When Helmut retired for the evening, he took the master bedroom room at the end of the hall and locked the door with a soft click.

The plush pillows and blanket of the massive bed beckoned him closer, but he didn’t have time to rest.

So with a single heavy sigh and a heavy heart, he took his laptop from his bag and got to work at the corner desk.

There was research to do.

This is what he needed.

Thanks for reading!

In part 3 we'll take a look at those early days of living with Baron Zemo and all the highs and lows that go with it. How does one go from 'person with mutual friends' to "Partner?" Not easily.

Taglist:

@actuallyanita

@fillechatoyante

Previous | Next

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Cosmic {1}

Lewis Tan x OFC Jupiter Azari

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Flirting, POV Changes, Fake Social Media Inserts

Words: 4k

Summary: Lewis has been single for three years after a stifling relationship that ended because of his reluctance to make a strong enough commitment. In that time, he’s focused on his career and living his life to the fullest. His goal was to have worthwhile experiences and make lasting connections. He’s got the experiences part down, but he’s never felt any sort of lasting connection until he’d seen your posts. After months of stalking your Instagram, he can’t stop thinking about you and decides to take a chance. Maybe it was time for him to take a chance on something new. 

Note: *Sigh* Another one, I know. *Deeper Sigh*. I apologize for the blurriness in some of the FAKE IG DMs. I’ve been working on this for so long, and finally, I can post a little something for it. Please tell me what you think. I am so excited to hear your thoughts.

Thank you guys so much for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/ Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Fake IG Post Creations***

-Lewis-

 He’d been single for a long time now. Three years. He’d been in a serious relationship for twice as long, so the math was right to him. There was no lying that he missed some of the advantages of relationships and having someone to journey through life’s ups and downs with. He missed things such as intimate dinner dates, entwining his fingers with someone else’s and relishing the feel of skin against skin, getting to know someone almost as well as he knew himself, and deep, fulfilling conversations. One of the most significant things he missed was companionship.

He knew he was not an unattractive guy. He also knew that being who he was, he could meet people effortlessly have a series of no strings attached romances where his physical needs were minimally satisfied for a short time. That was not a problem, but he’d long realized that was never enough for him. He needed more—a lot more. His busy schedule didn’t help matters at all, either. He was either on a flight every week or going between fight practice, meetings, filming, and a lot more. It took time to nourish a relationship and mold it so it could blossom into something strong and beautiful, time he just didn’t have. It was a simple fact—or so he thought.

 More and more, he’d been feeling as if maybe he could make that time; maybe he could find a way to have the highly sought after satisfying professional life but also that deeply fulfilling personal life. Maybe it was possible without having something or someone fall to the side. He began to think maybe he was ready to address his other needs.

 Groaning, he looked at the clock beside him. Two o’clock. Rolling out of bed, he walked into his bathroom. The day before was a long one; he hadn’t gotten in until nearly three in the morning. This was the first day in several that he’d been able to get more than seven hours of sleep. His body was telling him something. After tackling his hygiene routine, he pulled on a pair of his athletic quick-dry leggings and shorts then made his way to the back of his beach house.

It was another beautiful day in Spain, and he was ready to carpe diem the hell out of it—after he got his jog in. As he ran his standard four miles, his mind wandered to a variety of topics. He ran down his schedule for the next few days, went over his goals for the month, and made mental notes of things he needed to get done for the week. He believed in discipline, and the utmost show of discipline was having some over one’s life. Perhaps it was something he learned from his father as he trained in martial arts, or maybe it was a life lesson he’d picked up after so many years in the industry, both working and associating.

 By the time he plopped down onto the cool sand, almost two hours had passed, and he was sweaty and out of breath. He panted while gaping at the softy rolling waves and the faint sounds of the seagulls. It was a sight to be seen, one he was appreciative of. As he was getting lost in the view, a reminder popped up on his phone.

 *Social Media update*

 Sighing, he opened up his Instagram account and scrolled through his feed. If he didn’t set reminders for himself about social media, he would forget it entirely. He was one of those people who preferred to live life unfiltered and didn’t see a need to blog or vlog every little thing. He liked to share meaningful things. On the other hand, his team made it a priority for him to do more than share meaningful things. Their motto is if you’re not being seen or talked about, your brand and existence are inconsequential.

 So, four times a day, he had reminders set up. The plan was to engage with his fans while showing his personality. His agent’s exact words were; “Show the world what a swoon-worthy guy Lewis Tan is.”

 Just as he clicked over to his drafts, he registered her face. Quickly he tapped back onto his feed and on her recent post. It was an incredibly artistic photo of what could have been the universe, or even the mind’s third eye, or possibly a woman giving birth. It was just that subjective, but it was done in a way that made it seem as if you were looking through a kaleidoscope. He sat there marveling at the first photo, not even realizing there were three more that accompanied it.

 As he swiped through them, his mind was further blown. Each one gave off a psychedelic vibe. When he got to the last one, he found himself sighing out at the sight of her. The caption was,  “Art is subjective; who do you see?” Her face was one that easily held someone captive. Her eyes were impossibly deep and inviting. They drew him in, in a haunting and mysterious way. Even her username was creative as fuck. JupiterFallingToEarth.

 He’d spent weeks following her activity. She posted every day about once a day, sometimes two, and her posts ranged from artistic shots of landscapes, items, herself, and then she also posted products and fashion. It was clear she was a lifestyle blogger, and according to some of her posts, she was probably an influencer of some sort. There was something about her that drew him in from the first post he accidentally came across. That was four months ago.

 Since then, he’d practically stalked her page. The second he got a notification that she’d posted something, he was looking at it soon after. When he saw her stories, they always put a smile on his face. She was effortlessly adorable and sexy at the same time. It was a contradiction but one that you wore well. He didn’t know if he’d turned into one of those guys he’d seen countless times on Instagram. The ones who stalked a woman’s page and liked every single one of her posts and left vague comments under her pictures that could come off as creepy. He feared he had turned into that man.

 His interactions with her hadn’t gone to creepy lengths. He’d liked most of your posts, never commented because gossip was a real thing in his world, but liked other people’s comments under your posts. Sometimes he’d even tune in if you were on lives, and every time he watched, he was always filled with an urge to know you—really. He wondered if you’d even noticed he’d liked your pictures or if you’d gone to his page from curiosity to get lost in his content. One thing was sure; you’d never liked any of his posts. He’d noticed.

 “Get a fucking grip, man.”

 To help him on his way, he dropped his phone in the sand and ran to the waves hoping the water would do the trick. The coldness of the water shocked him, but it was a welcomed shock. Swimming further out to sea, he fought against the tide. Though he was exhausted, and his limbs were damn near numb, he pushed himself for just a little longer.  

 Ten minutes later, he dropped back onto the sand by his belongings while trying to catch his breath. That swim had his adrenaline surging competing with his exhaustion. Grabbing his phone, he went back to his drafts. Rather than posting one of them, he took a few shots of himself as he was dripping wet and all. Deciding on a relaxed-looking one, he prepped it to post. Before he did, though, he added a caption.

With it posted, he hopped to it. After a quick shower, he was off to tackle the day. On the agenda were three meetings for some brands that wanted him to work with them. The first up was a local Spanish sunglass brand, Vosotros. Throughout the meeting, he could tell that the campaign that they wanted to do was centered around bodies. Since the brand translated to the word “you,” their pitch was why not focus on everyone’s best selling feature—their body. It was a bit shallow for him, but the product was nice, and the pay was equally as appealing.

 After signing the contract, he moved to the second meeting. This one was for a couture men’s wear brand, Alma. This one he was familiar with. He’d worn many of their suits. They were comfortable but stylish and made from the best fabrics. He always felt like a million bucks when he wore them. This one was a no-brainer for him, and the compensation was the icing on the cake.

 Right before the third meeting began, he found he was running a little bit empty. The last time he’d had a meal was the night before. Before the meeting started, he pulled out his phone with the intent to figure out what was nearby so he could refuel once the meeting was finished. Once he saw the notifications, he opened up Instagram just to glance at them, but after scrolling through the eight thousand, among them, he found her name. Thinking he’d seen things, he scrolled all the way back to the top to refresh it, then scrolled back down, and sure enough, there it was.

 She’d liked six of his posts back to back. He couldn’t stop the wide grin that spread across his face. It was so broad that anyone would have thought he’d never gotten a like in his life. He spent the next few minutes going through which posts she’d liked. Each one made him smile wider and wider. By the time the prospective employers walked in, he was refueled enough to carry him through the rest of the day.

 ~~~~~~~~~~ 

-Y/N-

You’d finally bit the bullet. After four months of seeing the notifications on every one of your posts that he’d liked it or liked a comment under; it was about time. Right? The truth was you noticed each of them. The first time you got the notification, you almost fell out of your seat. You knew who he was because you’d seen one or two things that he’d been in and always thought he was hot, but of course, it was in passing. After the second notification of his like, you rushed to his page to go through each of his posts and found yourself salivating over every picture.

 After about half an hour, you got snapped back to your senses. The odds of it being him were slim to none. While you knew many celebrities liked to troll social media for their next piece of ass or entertainment, you never got that vibe from him. You deduced it must have been either a fan page or catfish at its best. So what did you do? Ignored it.

 You ignored every notification and did your best to shrug off the basal instinct that had your belly fluttering. In total, you had nearly two hundred posts, and he’d liked each and every one of them. It was a lot of ignoring. Today though, something came over you, and that something had you going to his page to see his new post. You couldn’t do anything else but stare. The truth was your finger slipped to tap the heart, and once you did, you tapped it again to unlike, but you knew once a like went through, you couldn’t take it back. Your only option was to deal with it. You dealt with it by liking five more of his pictures. Go big or go home, right.

 After ten minutes, you were still lamenting over if you should have or shouldn’t have. The internal conflict in you was high, especially when you began to kick yourself for overthinking it. There was no way it was really him. It was impossible. With that in mind, you calmed yourself enough to meet up with your friends. After pressing mute on your notifications, you proceeded to get yourself ready. It had been a good week since you and your friends had gotten the opportunity to hang out due to your busy schedules.

 When you were more than halfway there, your excitement began bubbling. When the four of you got together, it was always a good time. As soon as the Lyft dropped you off at the restaurant, a new construction that all four of you were dying to try, you were more than ready to eat, drink, and laugh. You stood outside for a few moments to admire the chosen exterior décor. It was an intricate mix of modern and seaside charm. It definitely was something different for the neighborhood.

 Walking inside past a line of about twelve or so people, you marveled at the entrance of the restaurant. Whoever designed it truly did a fabulous job. It was featured in the papers as one of the best new restaurants to try out in the downtown area. The way they’d incorporated indoor plants seriously captivated your attention.

“Welcome to Creator, my name is Kenji,” began the host who towered over you by like eight inches and bore green-hazel eyes. He was cute. “Do you have a reservation?” His smile was wide, and it showed off that his two front teeth were bigger than all the others. He made it work, though.

 “Yes. I believe my party is already here. I’m not sure who it’s under, though.”

 Kenji scanned the list of names on the iPad before her. As he did that, you scrolled through your texts to find the details that Zoë sent you. After a few short moments, he glanced back at you. After you found the reservation name, you rolled your eyes. Your friends thought they were funny.

 “Found it?”

 “Yes, and I apologize in advance,” you began. Kenji, the host, wrinkled his brow, not getting it. He would, though.

 Clearing your throat, held your head high, then spoke. “Punani Dasani.”

 Kenji’s eyes widened, then he pinched his lips tightly before he nodded and tapped a few keys on the iPad.

 “Wow. Eh-em. Yep, they’re here.”

 Nodding, you dropped your phone back into your clutch. When you looked back up, you caught Kenji’s eyes glued to your cleavage. When his eyes met yours, the embarrassment in them was obvious. Dipping his head, he signaled for you to follow him.

 The two of you walked through the restaurant under low hung plants, vines, and flowers. It was like walking through the garden of Adam and Eve. That must be what the owner had in mind when naming it Creation. It was clever, you thought. Just then, Kenji approached the table with your three friends. Once they saw you, they made a loud “Skeee” sound bringing the attention to those nearby. You couldn’t take them anywhere.

 “You guys think you’re funny with the reservation name?”

 They all laughed at you as you dipped down and greeted each of them with cheek kisses.

 “How did he look at you? From the way he keeps looking back, I can bet he wanted to sample that punani Dasani,” Tati joked to each of their delight.

 They were a trip, always had been. You, Tati, Monaè, and Zoë had been friends since high school and somehow managed to remain tight even though you each went your separate ways to different colleges. You each had spent two years apart until you came back together to finish your final two years of university together.

 “Don’t be mad. He wasn’t that cute anyway,” Monaè said, opening the menu before her.

 Cold-hearted, you thought as you did the same. Dinner progressed with laughs and stories of your days and recent happenings in your lives. As you ate, you decided to forget everything else and just enjoy yourself. You were in desperate need of a girl’s night, so you vowed to enjoy it fully.

 The food was delicious. Somehow they’d managed to make it taste healthy but also savory and completely indulgent. You felt as if every bite you took added thirty pounds, but you knew it wasn’t possible. The flavors all melded together so well that you wanted to send a message to the chef, letting them know they’d done well.

After a deeply fulfilling meal, the four of you piled into a Lyft and made it to your favorite club, Surge.  The music in the club was so loud that you could feel it bouncing inside of you. After getting your first round of drinks, the dancing began, and when the four of you got together with drinks and music, it was always an event.  You jumped into the middle of your circle and busted out your wine. Tati grabbed your phone from your hands and began recording you. Ignoring the camera and the gathering crowd, you allowed the alcohol to do its job and take you away.

 When you heard your friends cheering you on, you decided to really bust out your moves. Dropping to the floor, you did your best twerk. Holding your drink in the air, you began to wine your hips as you stood. It was one of your favorite moves. When you turned around, you saw Tati up close and personal. Slapping your hand in front of the lens, you giggled as you took your phone back to end the recording.

 “Jesus girl, those hips definitely don’t lie,” Monaè teased, making all your friends laugh.

 From behind, you felt someone approach you and place their hand on your waist. Turning, you gave him the rays of death with your stare telling him to back off. As quickly as he’d had the audacity to put his hand on you, he took it off just as quickly and backed away.

 “And don’t come back,” Zoë shouted.

 By the time you made it back home, it was three in the morning, and your feet hurt almost as much as your ass did. After leaving the club, the four of you had an impromptu photo shoot that lasted almost forty-five minutes and ended with you on your ass at the bottom of the pile once you’d tried some ridiculous cheerleading pose trying to relive your high school days. Big mistake.

 After a quick shower that had you almost falling asleep a few times, you dove into your bed, ready for some well-deserved rest. Just as you’d gotten comfortable, your phone’s alarm went off. Groaning, you reached over the edge of the bed, grabbing your bag to rifle through it. With your phone in hand, you blearily stared at the harsh light making your eyes feel as if they hadn’t closed in days rather than hours. You went to your alarm to turn it off, deciding that your routine dawn photo expedition would have to be rescheduled. You were too exhausted.

 Just as you were going to toss it away, you saw the notification of messages on Instagram. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you slid it down to get a preview. Through the blur in your eyes, you saw an icon that looked familiar. Tapping it, you nearly swallowed your tongue when you saw Lewis Tan’s image. Bolting upright, you coughed and slid to brace your back on your headboard.

 “What the--!”

The minute you saw it, you couldn’t believe your eyes. He’d send you a message. Chewing your bottom lip, you studied the time he’d sent it—over four hours ago. You then realized he’d see that you saw it, and you debated in your head if you should reply.

 “Jesus, get it together. Just say something simple,” you coached.

It was weak, but it was the best you had. You wondered if he would think it was weak too. As you obsessed about that, you also realized just how late it was. You’d responded to a DM at booty call hours. Rolling your eyes, you slouched back on your headboard. Your eyelids were heavy, and they drooped, trying to tell you something. Once they closed, your phone chimed that elaborate tone for your notifications.

Why had you responded? It was clear this was some fan page who either was using his image to catfish or gain followers. You never responded to questionable DMs, and this was as questionable as they got.

Even though you were still fighting your sleep, part of you was intrigued.

Flipping your smart TV on, and you turned to the Netflix app and found something for background noise.

Nibbling your bottom lip, you thought for a few moments. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol that had you thinking this deeply or if it was something else.

You snorted and shook your head. “He’s really going down with the ship, huh.”

This was always the reaction when anyone found out your name. They were always shocked and speechless. Usually, you got a few corny jokes or mentions about your favorite planet must be Jupiter or bring up some astronomy fact that was always wrong. It was annoying. You braced yourself for some equally corny mention from him.

The corny mention never came.

Your heart fluttered, and you couldn’t help but cheese from his compliment. You hadn���t expected it. Though you tried to stop smiling, you couldn’t. There was something about his words. It wasn’t like you’d never heard sweet words before. You had. This shouldn’t have been any different.

The exhaustion began to take a more significant hold, and you slid lower, tucking your comforter underneath your chin.

Filming? What the heck was he talking about, you wondered. He was really taking this shit a little too far.

You bolted upright again. Was he seriously going to take this that far?

He was insane, absolutely mental. You were so damn ready to end this. One thing you hated was dishonesty. You especially hated being toyed with.

There was no way that he could prove it. What was he going to do?

He thought you were an idiot. He must have. Your anger was rising.

Rolling your eyes, you tossed your phone beside you. You knew the chances of him passing this test were slim to none. You couldn’t believe that you’d given up the last thirty minutes of sleep for this. Groaning, you dropped back down, determined to drift away to sleep. Almost two minutes passed before you heard your chime again. Fighting the urge, you turned to your side, trying your best to ignore the fact that you knew he’d sent something.

After two minutes of curiosity killing you, you flung your hand back, grabbed your phone while flipping onto your back. You held your phone above your face, opened the app, and there he was.

Your jaw dropped, and your eyes drank in every inch and rippling ab. Jesus, you thought. As you were bringing your phone closer, you didn’t register that a video call was coming in. without even realizing it, you answered, and the same image you’d been looking at moments ago was now live. The only difference was the frame wasn’t as low to show his incredible abs. It cut right at his chest, giving you a peek at his dark, dusty rose nipples. You were utterly frozen. He smiled and raked his hand through his hair before he bit onto his bottom lip. It was Lewis fucking Tan.

 “Enough proof for you?” He smiled, and that was when your phone slipped and fell right in your face.

 “Fuck, owww!”

 The pain was so strong you were tearing up. Rolling to the side, you rubbed your face, then searched for your phone. When you got to it, the video call had ended, showing you your home screen.

 You began to freak out. “Oh my god, oh my god! What the fuck! What the fuck! What the fuck!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged or untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!  

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[prettylittlethings25]

MY FAVOURITE CHARACTERS FROM NETFLIX SHOWS

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

1.    Monica Geller (Friends)

Monica is a chef who likes things to be clean; and is competitive, obsessive and compulsive in nature. She was always dedicated to her friends. She never turned away a friend in need; like when Rachel ran away from her wedding, she allowed her to stay at her house even though Rachel was not in touch with her for many years after high school. She always cooked for her friends. Whenever it was Thanksgiving or someone’s birthday, she was the one who organized a get-together and fed all of them. Her parents always favoured her brother Ross, so she always competed against him to gain their affection. Monica always supported her husband Chandler and believed in him, even when he quit his job and started an internship. She was shattered when she found out that they cannot have a baby but was still strong and later adopted twins. The character is portrayed by Courtney Cox.

 2.    Klaus Mikaelson (The Originals)

Klaus is an original hybrid, i.e., he is one of the oldest vampires in the world who is also a werewolf. He is an overly complex character. He has a thousand enemies from all around the world. Though some people might think of him as ruthless or heartless, he has a good side despite all his sins. He took care of people who were dear to him. The protection of his family was always his first priority. He was an excellent father, brother, and friend. Despite daggering his siblings at a regular basis, he protected and saved them from all harm. His closest ally was his brother Elijah, who never let go of him. He adored Hayley, his daughter’s mother and his friend, and always made her feel like family. But most of all, he was an extraordinary father to his daughter Hope. Hope was the only reason Klaus redeemed himself. He loved Hope so much that in the end, he sacrificed his life to save Hope. The character is portrayed by Joseph Morgan.

 3.    Nairobi (Money Heist)

Nairobi was an expert in minting and forgery. She was one of the robbers who participated in the heist of the Royal Mint of Spain. Her task was to ensure that the money that was being printed by the hostages are of the highest quality. Later, she briefly took charge of the robbery and declared the beginning of “Matriarchy”. She was the most disciplined of the robbers. Her real name was Agata Jiménez. During her teenage years, she started counterfeiting due to lack of money. She got pregnant at that time and gave birth to a boy, who she named Axel. He was taken away from her at the age of 3 by the child services when they found out Agata is a drug dealer. The Professor and the robbers decided to select codenames after cities, because the rules were of no real names. Agata chose to be called Nairobi. The character is portrayed by Alba Flores.

 4.    Richard Hunter (The Bold Type)

Richard is a handsome in-house attorney for Steinem Publishing, the company that publishes Scarlet Magazine. He is a tall man with short brown hair. He is very dedicated to his job and avoids doing anything hazardous to jeopardize it. He has a clandestine affair with Sutton Brady, a stylist. He loves her very much, and even made certain adjustments to stay together with her. Later, he and Sutton got married. Their 15 years age difference did not affect their relationship until Sutton revealed that she never wants to have kids because she loves her career and does not want anything that can affect it. This is where their marriage hit a roadblock as Richard wanted to have kids and he could not wait longer for Sutton to maybe change her mind. Though he was a passionate lover, his decision of being a father was much more important to him. The character is portrayed by Samuel Page.

 5.    Joey Del Marco (Grand Army)

Joey is one of the most popular students at her school. Among her close friends is Tim, Joey’s best friend Anna’s brother, with whom she has a flirtatious relationship. She was strong, confident, and independent until one incident turned her life upside down. One night, she went to the movies with Tim, George, and Luke and decided to get drunk. In a cab, Joey sat on George’s lap and started flirting with him and Luke to make Tim jealous. Little did she know what was supposed to be fun, would turn out to be her worst nightmare. She was raped by the boys she thought were her best friends, while Tim just sat in stunned silence. Later when she was tried to press charges, they were denied due to lack of evidence. Joey looked for Tim’s support but did not get any. She changed her school and joined a dancing class hoping she would get over this trauma. The character is portrayed by Odessa A’zion.

 6.    Berlin (Money Heist)

Berlin was the Professor’s half-brother, and one of the robbers. He oversaw the heist of the Royal Mint of Spain. He was the perfect blend of both charming and arrogant. His real name was Andrés. He was diagnosed with Helmer's Myopathy and had little time to live, so he desired to enjoy everything in the moment intensely. He had eccentric ways of commanding and punishing the hostages as well as the robbers, but those psychopathic tendencies were a facade to maintain his leadership. His character development forces everyone to despise him at the beginning and then sympathize after his ultimate sacrifice in the end to protect others. The character is portrayed by Pedro Alonso.  

 7.    Beth Harmon (The Queen’s Gambit)

Beth is an orphan girl who has a passion for chess. She discovered her aptitude for chess while living in an orphanage, where she met Mr. Shaibel, the orphanage’s custodian who taught her chess. The pills that were given to the children at the orphanage helped Beth to hallucinate the game on a level that most of us will never experience in our lives. When she was adopted by a couple and could not avail the pills, her susceptibility to substance addiction fuelled her chess proficiency. She was the only woman chess player of her time and expressed irritation with being solely renowned because of her gender. So, she proved herself to be the greatest chess player in the world. The character is portrayed by Anya Taylor-Joy.

 8.    Chuck Bass (Gossip Girl)

Chuck is notorious for his flamboyant and impeccable sense of style and charisma. Though he was selfish, manipulative, and sleazy sometimes, he was loyal to his friends and other close acquaintances. He was abandoned by his mother and was raised by a cold-hearted father whose approval he longed for. His love interest is Blair, with who he has a typical hate to love chemistry. The time where he voted for Blair 150 times so that she could be the prom queen, even though they were not together at that time, is probably the most selfless thing he had done in his life. He is an epitome of character development. The character is portrayed by Ed Westwick.

[safiyaxkhalil]

meet safiya!

Cleo’s back! With an updated bio! With a new face! And a new name! And age! She’s from Egypt this time instead of Spain! With Cordelia being a wee bit younger! And an NPC! Still broke Emmett’s and Dilan’s hearts though. Oopsies. 

Safiya Khalil, rich billionaire who is the CEO and creator of the international chain dinner and a show global seafood restaurant Amphitrite’s Cove and the marine wildlife sanctuary and rehabilitation center and aquarium Minnow’s Sanctuary, located in Providence Peak and with a new location coming soon to Hilo, Hawai’i. Also a philanthropist. Also the mother of Cordelia Lopez-Khalil(-Chambers). Also a budding marine biologist who’s slowly working on her masters through the University of Alaska: Fairbanks Online. Also in love with Emmett Chambers. Wants to marry him, grow old together, be Lucky’s mama again, and have his babies. Trying to figure out how to tell him all of that after breaking up with him due to being scared of losing him like she lost her first husband, Miguel. Full bio’s down below. Bye bye.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: teen pregnancy, car accident, death, escorting

For as long as Safiya can remember, she loved the sea. She loved its mystery and beauty, how it enchanted and inspired countless of people before her. How so much of it has been discovered but even then, still just barely scratching the surface. She loved how she felt at home with the sea. For as long as she can remember, Saf wanted to dedicate her life to giving to the sea. As sort of a repayment for all that the sea has given to mankind. And she soon would. But how she got to that, she discovered, wasn’t her initial plans.

Restaurant owners Tarek and Rashida loved their little girl from the moment they discovered they were having her. Living in Port Said, life was good. But as the girl was beginning to grow older, they eventually decided that moving somewhere new could be a good thing for them. Eventually, the Khalil family moved from Egypt to Hilo, Hawai’i when Safiya was four years old. Two years later, they would all eventually be able to become American citizens. While they still made sure to visit their family back in Egypt during the summer, they were happy on the little island. Especially Safiya. With her hometown located on the Mediterranean Sea and her new home located in the Pacific Ocean, all it could do was reinforce her love for the sea. Growing up on the island, she would basically wake up early in the morning to be able to meet up with her friends to go swimming and surfing before school, and then just to head back to the water right after the bell rang. For the longest time, she had considered becoming a marine biologist. And if she somehow wasn’t out in the water, then she was at her family’s restaurant where she helped them with cooking. Another love of hers that would eventually change her life for the better.

Eventually, pricing in Hawai’i became too unbearable for the Khalil family and they eventually moved in-land. They made their new home in Nashville, Tennessee when she was thirteen years old. Going from living the ‘aloha’ life of Hilo to the ‘yeehaw with a dash of racism and homophobia’ life of Nashville was… unexpected. And for the longest time, she hated it. For years, she’d been planning on moving back to Hilo for college, to go back home. That is… until she turned sixteen. A boy came into her life and she fell hard and fast for him. He truly carried that Southern charm people hear about and was a truly good person. Her parents adored the young man and approved of their relationship. Everything went so fast and suddenly, they found themselves pregnant. Safiya had been terrified of losing him; Instead, he asked her to marry him. They gave birth to Cordelia Khalil when they were both 17 years old, marrying when they were 18. Their daring little Minnow bringing much joy and happiness to their young lives. They were happy those first couple of years, moving to Los Angeles for school. Safiya doing a double major in Marine Biology and Business. All was well... Until one night, Saf lost her husband in a car accident. Her heart was broken when she lost him, yet she had to keep going. Both for herself and for her daughter.

Being both a widowed young mother and a college student in Los Angeles is… not an easy thing. Working multiple odd jobs at a few seafood restaurants and theaters, while also working as a high-end escort for some of Hollywood’s elite to make some extra money, she did everything she could. As much as Safiya didn’t want to, her hands were tied and escorting made good money. She was able to provide for her child and for herself, no matter how badly she was treated. However, the young woman eventually came up with an idea. Not long after she graduated from college at the age of 22, she started up a small dinner and a show Mediterranean and MENA seafood restaurant in Santa Monica.

At first, business was slow. But eventually, business began to pick up. Amphitrite’s Cove became a hot spot for both locals and tourists alike. It wasn’t long until they had to find a new and bigger location, expand the menu to include seafood from all around the globe, and create more acts. Soon, two more locations in Los Angeles happened. And then eventually, more locations popped up in Southern California. By the time Saf was twenty-eight, locations up and down the West Coast, along with a location in Seward, Alaska and her old hometown of Hilo, Hawai’i popped up. She’d also had been working on locations in Denver, Colorado, St. Louis, Missouri, and Nashville, Tennessee. Soon enough, she went international. Having a few restaurants across Europe, Central and South America, the Middle East, Africa, Asia, the Pacific Islands, and Australia and New Zealand. She eventually quit all of her other jobs, especially the escorting one. She made agreements with all of her clients that neither she nor they would ever discuss their previous relationships. They would invest in her business, she would remain quiet. And an empire was born.

And then nearly five years ago, she began to work on a new location more in-land: Providence Peak, Colorado. The adjustment of leaving Los Angeles for Colorado hadn’t been too easy, especially for then fifteen year old Cordelia, who eventually turn eighteen and graduated high school not too long ago. The girl now about to turn twenty. But along with working hard on her growing empire of Amphitrite’s Cove, she has also been working hard on being a perfect mother for her daughter. She always says that her daughter is her greatest achievement and her most wonderful treasure. Safiya’s main priorities have been raising Cordelia and expanding her empire, working on adding more locations across the East Coast and eventually more within the Heartland of America. Who’s to say what the future may hold, but Safiya’s little empire is becoming bigger and bigger. And nothing’s going to stand in her way or ruin the life she has built for herself and her daughter. She’s even opened up an aquatic wildlife sanctuary and rehab center called Minnow’s Sanctuary in Providence Peak three years ago, named right after her daughter. For so long, after all the horrible shit, life was good.

And things have now gotten better. Cordelia has returned back to Providence Peak, having left due to college. Nothing could describe how much Safiya missed her daughter, how being reunited makes her so happy. However, remembering that Dela is an adult now is... well, very hard to do. Despite having been so close, the two are butting heads constantly. Have been ever since Dela declared that she wasn’t going to attend the university in Providence Peak. Safiya loves her more than anything and wants her to be happy; She’s just struggling with remembering to pull the reigns back in. All Saf knows is that she would do anything for Dela. She’s her baby, no matter how old she gets.

[wakandascrystal]

BET. II

Erik x BlackReader

Summary: Erik and his friends place a bet to get with you little does he know who you and family are.

Part 1

......................................

“Ahh Ray Charles.. Ray Sings, Basie Swings. How did you know? I’m going to enjoy this..“ Your father held the vinyl closely reading all the fine print on the back of the casing.

“How could I not? Ray was all you listened to back then. Your one and only obsession.“ You smiled fondly at the older man. He seemed to be really happy about the gift. That made you feel good. Job well done.

He called one of the four men that stood guard around his office. Dressed in black suits with black earpieces. One hurried towards him. With quickness he took the vinyl from his hands and pulled out the vinyl to insert it into the gramophone.

He dropped the needle and Oh, What A Beautiful Morning started playing. Ray Charles voice filling the wide space. Your father's office was the backdrop of your childhood when you were still innocent and hopeful. You used to run between the wooden chairs and hide behind the large curtains. Minding your blissful business.You missed these days but thinking about the past did nothing but let pain into your heart. Now you were back years later, a grown women. Wiser, intelligent and sometimes harsh.

 Your father's smile took you out of your train of thought. He seemed happy these days. You didn't live with him so seeing him was a treat. You would told anyone this but you were much closer to him the your mother. There were reasons for that, none that made your mother seem unfit but you felt more willing to share your woes and problems with your father. It just felt right.

Next moment the guards left, moving swiftly and closed the door behind them. Offering much needed privacy. While they left he poured himself a glass of whiskey. 

“Thats is not true, Ray is not my only obsession...speaking of..how is your Mother doing?“ He carried on the conversation as if nothing had happened.

“For a divorced couple you both do sure ask about each other a lot.“ You placed your bag on his wooden table and sat down on the leather chairs. Your large dreadlocks laid down the sides of your body. 

“She is the Mother of my beautiful children how could I not care about her well being Y/N?“ He was being sarcastic to cover up his true feelings. He felt bad that you had figured him out already. He sometimes forgets how in ture you are with people's motives and emotions.if only he knew that you didn't judge him one bit. You loved that he wanted her back but you couldn't make your mom fall for him. Not after what happened. 

“I guess, but I know you miss her ...and not in that way in the other way...in the making a 4th child way.“ You took a sip of his whiskey since you already decided to be cheeky with him.

“Y/N!! I am your father!!“ He gently reminds you.  

“And I am your daughter, who can see through your bullshit....I have a good idea! Marry her again!!“

“Y/N!“

“Okay I'm sorry about swearing but you know i'm right.“ You cross your legs and arms.

He leaned back and siped what was left of his whisky. A coy smile on his face thinking about his ex wife.

“How are the twins by the way?” 

“They are fine. Somewhere in Spain, partying. They are young, Dad. Let them live okay. Don't do what you did with me.  Look, now i'm a introverted bitch who cares more about her hair care collection than a real relationship. Call them ...ask how they are doing...show them ...that you care even if it looks small. We love affection.“

“Okay I won't be strict on the boys and ill send them love letters every 2 seconds”

You rolled your eyes

“- But your mother will defendant be strict with them. I can't help you there. Speaking about relationships..you still up on my offer?”

You let out a sigh thinking about his offer. 

“No..I love you dad but i have to decline.I appreciate it I really do but..but you know I'm not a fan of your line of work... and I know what your gonna say. The money raised us, yes and it came when we really needed it. It's a double standard but I can't have someone with such a risky ...lifestyle. I worry about you and Uncle Ronny too much already. Just for my piece of mind I can't go out with the men you have in mind.“ 

“Don't worry sweetheart. Your old man understands.“

“I mean do you know any teachers, bus drivers, an IT guy...hell you know any barrestas.“ He laughed and your sense of humour.

He was glad you were very open with him. Unlike your younger brothers you had reached maturity that surprised him but sometimes you being alone with no one did worry him. 

“Dad Im happy. Don't worry. I really dont need a man. I'm good.“ You tried to convince him.

“I wouldn't be this...concerned if ...if you were active.“ 

“No! I'm not having this conversation with you.“  You were shocked. He had due restriction when it came to your sex life.

“Baby listen you can't be ...scared your whole life. I know what happened when you were young and I know how damaging that experience was to you. You were so young and brave-.“

You cut him off.

“Brave? I wasn't brave dad. I just.....I just layed there and he-” Your voice cracked. You squeezed your thighs remembering the pain “..I Know I can't think like that, that a man who wants me will treat me that way but ...it's so hard. The thought of opening up to a stranger ..it's bit crazy.” 

You wanted him to knew you were afraid but at the say time you didn't. You wanted to live up to this strong daughter image but you had your moments of weakness. Bearing them deep in your soul was better than reliving them. 

“You forgave him, made some calls and you took care of him.”

“Is that what we calling murder now.“ You pushed your hair back.

“You know you didn't have to do it.“ He leaned back into his chair. The smirk on your face worried him.

“I'm glad I did.“

“but... you became stronger. I dont think you should let that event lead you stray from love..potential love. You are-”

“Putting a bullet through his head was never going to take the pain away.“ You whispered

“Does it make me a bad person that I loved the sound of his ...agony... The scream he let out when Uncle Ronnie started cutting off his fingers. Does that make me a bad person?” You voice was soft and dry.

“You wanted revenge....Anyone would have. You a good girl Y/N. You deserve to be happy, I'll make sure of it. If anyone tries anything. I mean anything with you. They so much as move a hair out of place. Call me and they will wish they were never born.“

You wink at him trying to lighten the heavy mood

“Speaking of that..... I did met someone!“ You looked down fearing his reaction. It was bad timing but you wanted him to know 

“Really now?“ he looked surprised.

“Yes..and I have his number. He seemed kind and he said he came out of a bad break up about a year ago. I'm not sure about him but he..he made feel comfortable.“

”Well I’m very happy to hear that. When are you planning to meet the young man.“

“I’m not sure maybe tomorrow maybe next week, maybe never.“ 

“Okay then. Tell me when you or if you do meet him. But I do need to leave unfortunately. I'm leaving the country for a bit. Business of course but please do get comfortably. I will see you in 4 days.“

You got up from your chair and gave your father a hug. He was warm and large just how you liked. Your face rested on his chest. Hearing his calm heart beat.

“Thank you for being understanding, for being patient with me and supportive. Please stay safe and come back in one piece.“

“Always. Now please. Get some rest. Eat something.” He gave you a kiss on the cheek and you left his office.

You strolled making your way to your ride. You instructed Frank, your driver to take you to the Hilton hotel. You had been living there since you arrived. The suite you booked was beautiful and you wish you could live there forever. There were no memory, no stress, no anxiety, no fears. when you layed in your bubble bath in the lavish hotel room you at peace. Milky bubble bath sat still around your curvy brown form, hair up away from the fragranced  soapy water. 

You remember telling your father you didn't need a man. That was true you didn't need one but having someone would be nice. The gilded hotel rooms, marble floors and first class flights to any country. They would be so much better with someone. Someone who cared and loved you. Maybe giving Someone a chance would a right start but you really didn't want to date. The process seemed tedious and time consuming. 

But Erik seemed....different. Well that's what you thought. He was a gorgeous black man, there was question about that but beautiful men are everywhere. Your priority was finding someone with a good heart, maybe some who is simple. No flashy lifestyle. Someone would have patience and be slow with you.

Taking a chance climbed out of the warm tub heading to get your phone on the messy bed...Wrapped in a towel you decided to call him.

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

“You are a punk, look hoe I'm beating your ass.“ Erik shouted

They were in a heated basketball video game. The guys had brought drinks, weed and snacks to Coles place. It was a friday so they wanted to unwind. 

“Trey, I will body you next round I swear. How could you let this fool win.”  Jadyn complained 

“...And you put money on this nigga.“ Trey called Cole out.

“”What? I thought I could win...I really did have it..“

“Don't lie! You never had it.“ Erik mocked him.

“Ahh I wouldn't be talking if I was you ...shawty still hasn't texted your ass..“ Cole gave back the same energy.

“..She will ..just give her time.“ Erik really didn't expect you to take time long to text him. It pissed him off. He underestimated your thirst.

Any girl with half a brain would have texted him by now.  He was used to that. There was no instant gratification with you. He felt ashamed a bit that you didn't fall to his feet and he tried to avoid talking about the bet.

“..Stop all that..just reload the next game..i'm going to the bathroom... “

He up and left. Minutes later he heard Cole telling him he had a phone call from an unknown number.

“Let it ring...“ He shouted back as he dried his hands

“So E who’s calling you so late. Its almost 11. Early booty call.“

Erik made his way back to the living room.

“Nah all my booty calls are saved. I have Friday Linda big Titties, double cheek up Nikki, Lisa Titties could be bigger ....and my absolute favorite.....Nasty Keke. Now that bitch is crazy. “

“Call it back maybe it's an important call from the hospital or something.“ He stopped playing the game.

“Man why would you say that...playing with my guilty conscious and shit.“

He dialed up the number and called it.

It would be an understatement to say he did not expect your voice. It was sweet with just enough of nervousness to make it sound more attractive.

“Hey“ Erik’s voice involentarly went high as well and all the 3 men in the room with him looked at him. 

“Are you alone?“ You asked. Erik signaled them to turn of the games and stay quiet then proceed to put the call on speaker.

“Yeah It's just me. I..I didn't expect you to call.“ 

“Oh ...Im sorry. Its just I feel like calling is better? Don't you think?“ You waited for him to answer. Tip toeing around your room. 

“Don't apologise...I mean..Yeah..Calls are more personal. Makes the person in the other end feel..... real.“ 

All 3 men knew Erik was talking shit but for a small moment Erik forgot about the Bet. It was actually nice to have a female call him like this. It had never happened before. They always just texted him. Texted him where to pick them up and when to. They never really wanted to get to know him. 

“Did your father like the gift?“ He asked 

“Yes, he did. He’s a big fan of Ray.“ You hated how nervous you were. It really annoyed you. You didn't understand because you weren't this emotional when you meet him back at the music store. Why did you feel like this now. You liked how deep his voice was, You tried not to be affected by its smoothness.

“ - and hows that heart of yours?“ Erik remembered the lie he had told before.

“His doing much better now that you called. You made a brother wait 2 weeks.”  You let out a playful laugh

“Believe or not but I have other things to deal with...but you're very corny Sir. Do you know that?“

“Yes. I'm just trying to be myself. Corny all day. How was your day Y/N?“

“Well, I facetimed my brothers, Dwayne and Dean. They on vacation right now. Then I visited my dad. I actually gave him the ...gift today. Now i'm at home...its a hotel but still.. Nothing much really and you? A handsome man like you surely has tons of women -“

Erik knew that in order to gain your trust he had to destroy any doubt you might have about him. That yeah, a tall, handsome man could be available like that.

“Its 11: 20 and Im on the phone with you ..what women?”

The line went silent for too long. You didn't know what say. Erik and his friends could hear your soft breaths. You were lying face up on the bed now.

“You still there“ he asked.

“There’s a Japanes restaurant downtown... Nine o'clock sharp. Tomorrow.“ You hold your breath.

Erik stood up and did a victory dab and the men smiled

“Let me pick you up, Where do you live?“

“No you dont have to...you know what yes“ Erik thought your outburst was strange but he didn't dwell to much on it.

But that would be hard to explain. Why you had a 6.2ft armed guard following you at all times ....at any given moment he was always next to you. You didn't want him to see that. It would be too early to explain to him. Joe, your bodyguard didn't like leaving you alone. He would meet your father's wrath if anything happen to you. So you would have to talk to him and make sure he stays low.

You would just cross that bridge when you got there.

 “......Yeah. I'm excited.“

You regretted saying that. It just came out to fast. You really didn't want Erik to think you were forward.

“Me too.“ Your heart melted a little. For some reason you thought he would make fun of you.

“Have a nice night Erik. I'm going to bed now."

"Okay goodnight Princess."

You bit you lip and hung up before you moaned out loud. Rolling around in bed you giggled from the adrenaline from the pet name paired up with his voice. You couldn't believe what you just did. You felt a sense of victory. You felt proud of yourself. You hoped Erik felt the same.

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

He hung up and the boys went wild with excitement.

" fuck that....I'm not letting you anywhere near my girl no more. You too smooth nigga." Trey said laughing with excitement.

"She eat that shit up like breakfast. I hope yall have got my cash ready."Erik said 

“You better send us some evidence though.“ Trey reminded him

“Yeah whatever. I need to leave anyway get ready for my date and shit. I think i'll stop by Tati’s house first. That girl knows how to throw it back. I'm out.“ He got his belongings and left. Meanwhile you left to call Joe. He had rather stand guard outside the hotel door then inside. He liked to give you your private space. You called him. 

“Joe could you come in for a bit i need to talk to you.“

“Sure.“ By the time you had slipped into pjs he was standing in the living room area.

“Joe...Please take a seat. There is something i need to tell you....“

“Yes “ the incredibly large man sat down legs wide on the soft couch.

“I'm going on a date tomorrow.“ You would be lying if you said you didn't expect his reaction to the new.

“..and who the fuck is that punk.“

Joe had watched you grow up in front of his eyes. he was assigned to you when you were 12. He knew you better than most people in your life so he cared for you a lot and he had his own way of showing it.

“Joe please. He’s nice. And he's taking me out tomorrow.“

“Is he that nigga that was bugging you at that music shop. Him and his friends were acting too fresh for my liking. Eyeing you like a piece of meat. “

“okay i get it men are weird but the reason i called you in ..was to ask you ...to not come.“

“Forget it. If something happens to you ..your father will kill me.“

“I know...Its just i dont want him to know. Can you at least just keep a low profile.“

“Okay. I'll try...but if he so much as hurts you ill...“ You covered his mouth quickly.

“I think you forgetting that i can take care of myself.“

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

🌸Tiny Taglist🌸

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[polygamyff]

52. Part 2

Opening the baby gate laughing at Shawn, he has been harassing me call after call “I am awake” walking over to him “later as hell, I am all excited for this my nigga come here” Shawn hugged me “I am tired, but I have something to tell you. I have changed the plan, we are still going away but” I paused “oh no, why a but? What is happening?” he is all panicking about this “nothing bad, just that I didn’t tell Robyn early enough, I told her yesterday because I forgot, I have had so much on my mind, you know. So, I told her yesterday and she wasn’t upset about it or angry, she said I needed some time away but she is on call for this weekend, and she said what if she gets called in, what happens when Reign. So, I said I will take her with me to Spain” Shawn’ mouth fell open “what!?” he spat “I love Reign, I do. She is my niece, but she will pose a trouble for us, how we going to relax with Reign? It’s not a good idea, ok. So, let me think” Shawn is the only one to be having a meltdown about this, I am so relaxed about it. I think Reign is no problem at all, that is my daughter “I will get Nalah to have her, she will take her for the duration of Robyn on call, then we can go to Milan and have fun, come on Maurice. You’re going to be chasing after Reign, how are you going to relax? Shit is not logical; we are meant to be having us time. Right?” nodding my head “ok, so if you can sort that out for us. Come on Maurice, you need to whine down a little bit. I am sorry Maurice” I sighed out “I wanted to go and see Mami actually, well Paula. We can relax still?” Shawn sighed out “then what if Nalah comes with us?” I shook my head “now I feel like my daughter is getting between your little vacation” Shawn pulled a face at me “seriously? My little vacation, I am just trying to help you so we can spend time together but now you want to go and visit your step mother?” mean mugging Shawn “there is a reason why I don’t fuck with you anymore, I have moved on. I don’t need you, or Nalah or any of you. Just fuck off and make your own trip, get the fuck out of my home too. Watch your mouth too, go!” I spat, Shawn shook his head and walked off “you have changed, nigga!” Shawn said walking off.

I don’t need Shawn, assuming my daughter is a pain and will be in the middle of this stupid vacation, I don’t need him. I will be going away without him and with my daughter. You know what, I feel I have moved on and him acting highly upset about it is bullshit, he should be happy for me. I didn’t make the effort with him, so what. He knows I am busy but yet he does this, no friend does that. He fucking with the wrong nigga because I will destroy his fucking life, I am very angry right now “hey Maurice” Ally picked up finally “I need the jet to go to Spain instead, just update it please” disconnecting the call, I need to get ready to go, he is right. I need time away from this shit, I just want to have some peace and that will be my only way for this. Opening my bedroom door “is Shawn here?” Robyn asked while she dressed Reign, if I say I had a disagreement with Shawn about Reig, she will then think I am annoyed but then will want me to not take Reign because of my mood “fine, he will meet me at the airport” I mean, I will tell Robyn after because she may talk me out of it. I am annoyed because I feel like Shawn was making it seem like my daughter was in the way, I don’t want Nalah looking after her. And fuck that, I want to see Mami.

Robyn has Reign wearing a little backpack and I find it the cutest thing ever “my little globe trotter, you ready? We about to go on an adventure” picking Reign “I have everything in this suitcase and yes it’s big, I don’t care if it’s just the weekend. Just be safe. I am not sure about letting her go but I trust you and I know she will listen to you, also I am nervous. Maurice seriously, just bring her back if anything. Swap roles with Shawn too, if she is sad then please bring her back. See now I am getting sad, just come back with her. Please” Robyn strained out “it will be one night, like I would come back Monday but just one night. I will be back, don’t worry” I chuckled “I know but just be safe ok? And you don’t be a brat for him, little madam” Reign doesn’t understand the dramatics “we good ain’t we? It’s an adventure for us” Robyn sighed out “I love you both so much, come back. I feel better it’s just one night now” leaning down and pressing a kiss to Robyn’ lips “why didn’t you get Jay to go with you?” shaking my head “I don’t need anyone, I love you. Say bye mommy!” grabbing Reign arm and waving “bye baby, love you both” walking out of the door.

This is easy, Reign is asleep. I placed pillows all around her and I can see the made-up bed from where I am sat, I thought I will do some work while on the jet to Spain. I mean I don’t really care for Shawn right now; I am on a different path and speaking of the nigga, answering the skype call he clearly saw me online “what?” I answered “did you go then? Look I didn’t want it to come off the wrong way, I don’t want to argue with you, I am sorry please. Just don’t cut me off like that” I shrugged “when Robyn and Reign moved to me you knew my priorities would change; you knew I would be busy. You’re making me feel like you preferred me being lonely always calling on you?” Shawn’ mouth fell open “ok, ok. You two, let me sit in on this. What is happening? I have him upset and then you? You both are the worst, like an old couple. Sensitive bitches!” Nalah sat next to Shawn “he is the sensitive one crying in my office, I am just trying to keep up with my life. Is that a hard thing to understand with any of you! Like fucking listen to yourselves, Maurice do this, do that. Give me some fucking attention, just fuck off. I don’t want to give it, how about that!? Shawn knows I have shit to do, I have shit going on every fucking end and you want to have some attention” see now he’s got me worked up “Maurice, come on now. Just relax, you don’t do well with stress you’re going to get ill, come on now. I think wires are being crossed here. I understand, listen to me. Are you on the jet then?” Nalah asked “yeah, I am going Spain” Nalah rolled her eyes “you’re so stubborn, you both are just being hormonal with each other. He told me, he just wanted time with you and he just wanted solutions but then you got offended by it, you are feeling sensitive Maurice” I sighed out “whatever Nalah, then if you know I am stressed then why add to it? You and that dumbass know me so well then fucking act like it, please don’t call me. I don’t want to know; this weekend is my time. Bye” disconnecting the skype.

I am honestly missing my babies, I feel like I have nothing to do because it would be just my luck that nothing is happening, I have not even asked to come in at all which is sad because now I am just sat around eating, nothing else to do but that. I honestly must be crazy to be letting Maurice take Reign out of the country but then he is fine with her, he literally takes care of her at home so what is the difference, but I am missing them so much. My phone buzzed at the side of me and then the buzzer went off, picking my phone up from the side of me to check. My phone unlocked and bought up the camera, oh it’s Nalah. Pressing the speaker “the door is unlocked” unlocking the door, Nalah waved at the camera walking in. This is the bonus of this home, the cameras and I don’t have to ever leave what I am doing to let someone in, stifling out a yawn. After all that I could have kept Reign with me, that honestly annoys me because I wouldn’t have mind taking care of her. Hearing the elevator ping “nobody got the time to walk them stairs” I chuckled turning on the couch to look at her “I don’t know what I would do if it broke, this is a nice surprise. Nice dress bitch, is that Dior?” Nalah looking classy as shit “you know it, hey girl. Don’t get up, sit there. I am tired and can’t wait to take off these heels, I have been running around for that golden boy and then I just get his abuse” Nalah huffed out sitting down “busy then?” sitting back on the couch “yes, for my dad’ great idea for a wedding, well I told you we still have the dresses from last time, he has the suits but my dad is just fussing and I am all hot and bothered so give me a moment” poor Nalah she looks like she has been harassed by everyone.

I made Nalah a cocktail “you didn’t need too at all but this looks delicious, I have heard about your booze selection” I smiled sitting across from her “it’s ok, I mean we don’t exactly drink constantly but when Maurice hosts his little events, maybe then” watch me get called in now someone is here “so are you on call? With your work, what is that? Why don’t you be at work?” Maurice must have mentioned it to her “so I am the one duty if needed so, I can be home but if they call me I have to go. So it’s like a day off but not a day off also, so I am like the point of call for emergencies that need to be done to save that person’s life quickly. I don’t mind that but it’s annoying because like today, nobody will call me in but I did get a call from someone asking advice which I said can be scheduled for when I am in, there is that” Nalah let out an oh “that is so interesting, amazing work” I shrugged smiling “it’s ok I suppose, how is you and Shawn? Still going strong?” might as well ask “chile, he would be ok if he wasn’t crying over Maurice constantly. He came back in the morning like Maurice told me to fuck off and that he doesn’t fuck with him anymore, like complaining as shit. So, I told Shawn skype him, he is online. Shawn apologised, so then I started to talk to him, and Maurice is just pissed off and stressed which I understand so he is just snapping at me, told me to not call him, men! The whole reason was that Maurice felt like Shawn didn’t want Reign there, Shawn just wanted him to have a solution, he said I can babysit Reign. But nothing was right for him so there is that” Nalah spat “wait, I am confused where is Shawn?” raising an eyebrow “home, Maurice said for him to not go and he will go alone to Spain” my face softened “he didn’t say that to me at all, seriously” I huffed out, what is he playing at “oh, he didn’t?” Nalah’ face softened “I know him, I sleep with the man every night, talk to him every night and day when we not busy and I know he is stressed out, I know he is upset. I wanted Shawn to help him so he can relax, my god” rubbing my face “don’t be angry with him” Nalah was quick to say, picking my phone from the side “watch” I said, she can sit and hear what I say.

Placing my phone against my ear, I am not angry with him, but I just don’t want him to struggle but then again I don’t think he will at all “hey” he sounds so husky “had a nap?” I asked “uh” he cleared his throat “yeah, I did. Still flying, just fell asleep” nodding my head “ok, how is Reign?” I can’t hear her “she is asleep still, I think she will be awake soon” Nalah talking about don’t be angry with him, she doesn’t know me “what about what happened with Shawn, Maurice?” I asked, I didn’t shout or make out that I am angry with him “he told you?” Maurice was quick to say “no he didn’t, Nalah is here. She thought I knew, so you took Reign with you. Father and daughter time huh? Bonita not invited” I said smiling, Nalah is looking at me like I am crazy “you were, just you are busy. I guess it is daddy and daughter time” I sighed out “well, I just wanted to know. Call me when you land ok?” I mean deep down I am not happy, I am slightly upset and concerned that he is alone with her “I will, love you” he sounds sad “love you too” disconnecting the call “seriously? Aren’t you like angry?” shaking my head “I want to be his peace, why do I need to shout at him? He doesn’t need that, I want to be the woman he needs and I will get that back from him. If I start shouting at him, start saying you stole my baby, you stole her! You took her there and you lied. I mean I could have but I know Maurice is going through it right now. He’s going to see Paula; he will have his happy time with his daughter and that is what I know. Nalah, he is a good father. He is feeling stressed, Marquis is ill, you and I both know his days are numbered” Nalah’ face softened “I didn’t think you would know or even take notice” Nalah said “take notice of a man Maurice’ adores, I am not sure if Maurice knows it in his heart or that he is being blind to it? but I am scared to know what he will be like” Nalah needs to realise that I have to handle my life better and my mom would be proud “I think Maurice will need time, he has a good woman, he has you so I don’t think he will be bad. I was shocked to see how you handled it” I chuckled.

Nalah keeps speaking on how I handled it, I think she expected me to be angry, but I know Maurice has been struggling and I don’t want to stress him, it will flare up his sickle cell. I just want to get married to him now “I don’t know what is wrong with me but recently I have been feeling it, like I want another baby. I feel like Reign grew on me too fast, I just really been feeling broody about it, I don’t know. Even though Reign is still my baby, I just want another one. And I’ve been playing with the idea of letting it happen natural or do it through insemination, but I think the second option would be best, Maurice wouldn’t be able to deal with it if the baby had it, you know. It’s so random maybe soon but yeah” I shrugged, I have been wanting to have another, but I maybe need to wait it out a little longer “girl, when I see Reign I get baby fever. I told Shawn we are baby making, so we are currently trying. I get how you feel with wanting a baby, I do too” I cooed out “me and you could be pregnant together” I pointed at her.

I was going to go back to my childhood home, but I decided to go and see Mami “thank you my friend” I said, the driver took all the stuff out for me, leaving the case and stroller outside. Reign is quiet, I prefer it that way but I think she is just thinking what is this “why is Mami taking so long” pressing the buzzer again “what is she like, she knows I am here” pressing a kiss to Reign’ cheek, she has had a long flight. Reign is not in the mood “mi chico esta en casa!” hearing Mami shout “Mami, I came to see you” Mami’ eyes grew “Maurice, the baby” the gate opened “oh my god, Maurice she is beautiful” Reign was quick to look away, she didn’t want to know right now “she is grumpy right now, I missed you!” Mami got her arms open “come on, come here. Te quiero mucho maurice, eres mi chico” leaning down and hugged Mami, she pressed a kiss to my cheek “so happy to see you” she gives the best hugs “I love you too Mami, I been feeling so down” moving back from the hug “Mami knows, you know I know baby” she touched my face, Reign finally looked “Mami, this is Reign-Texas. The other girl that has taken my heart, she means so much. Hey” Reign grinned at me “you know I am speaking about you, don’t you” Reign giggled clapping her hands, I am so happy to be back in Spain, it’s love here “yes Mi Amor, Mami thinks you’re beautiful” I laughed, Mami reached towards Reign to hold her hand “she is beautiful, she got you Maurice. I know, I took care of you remember. Oh I am so happy to see her, let’s go inside. Franco will pick up your things, come” I hope she don’t think I’m staying here.

[catalinaroleplay]

Gender & Pronouns: Cis female, she/her

Date of Birth: September 5th, 1995 (24)

Place of Birth: Catalina Island, California

Neighborhood: Avalon

Length of Residency: Native

Occupation: Freelance Writer, Lifestyle Blogger, and College Student

Face Claim: Maia Mitchell

BIOGRAPHY

The birth of their youngest daughter should have been a blessing, a joy, and the source of utter happiness for Evelyn and Arthur Halliwell, but by the time Celia was born, the relationship between the two adults was already too broken to be repaired. Arthur Halliwell was too far gone with only money on his mind and Evelyn seemed to thrive doing nothing but being a wealthy housewife, resorting to any means necessary to keep their family’s name out of the dirt. Having Celia was supposed to repair what had been broken long ago; a child to restore the love they once felt, something to replace the resentment they held for one another. Neither could understand why their plan failed, but neither of them tried to fix it again.

Being the youngest of four and Evelyn’s last shot at getting the daughter of her dreams, Celia turned out to be the poster child for her “mother’s” parenting skills. She hit all her milestones early, which gave Evelyn a reason to beam with pride and show off, and by the time she began to speak, it was clear that Celia was gifted with intelligence well above her parents’ expectations. She was the Halliwell family’s shining star, something Evelyn had longed for after the troubles she had gone through with her other daughter, especially Ava and Cleo. Being so high up on a pedestal Celia Halliwell had always looked at the glass as half full, which wasn’t hard considering she never had to worry about what the future would hold for her. Her entire week was pre-planned by Evelyn, social appointments and lunch-ins were the highest priority. Whenever she wanted to spend a day with a friend it had to be run by her mother. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but Celia believed to be doing right by her mother. 

Despite all the privileges the Halliwell name came with, she had always been naïve to the way things worked outside in the real world and never believed in the notion of wishing ill upon another or of tearing someone down in order to make herself look better – in her eyes, there was enough room at the top for more than one person, even though more than enough people at school were always competing with her in nasty ways. Unlike her sisters, she usually stayed out of trouble, believing the world to be a magical place filled with only kindness and love, Celia certainly trained herself to overlook all the potential malicious traits people came with and focused on the good in people instead. It wasn’t always easy, but being portrayed as a bad person wouldn’t work with the picture that had already been painted of her. 

While being Evelyn’s favorite child had its perks, there were many downsides. Debutant balls, dinner parties, charity events, and other social events turned into Celia’s life as soon as she was old enough to accompany her mom. Sometimes Celia thought Evelyn tried to go to as many events as possible because she feared it could all come to an end and her youngest daughter would start to rebel as well. But why rebel when Celia lived a life with virtually no consequences? She was rarely told no, anything she desired she could have – anything if she just made her mother happy with a couple of events during the social season and listened when she was told to stand up straight and look happy. On the other hand, Celia never felt the need to step out of line or do anything crazy… as long as she looked happy, she could pretend everything was fine. But looking happy and being happy are two completely different things if your name isn’t Evelyn Halliwell. Maternal instinct was something her mother had always lacked and where a mother should have been, doting nannies could be found, so how could she blame Evelyn for not noticing the obvious? 

Instead, Celia chose to blame Arthur. Arthur who, according to Ava, knew how to be a father and had been a fatherly figure even to her other older sisters, but didn’t feel the need to show his youngest daughter the same decency. Celia knew he hadn’t really been interested in yet another daughter, that he’d wished for a boy at the end of the road, that he blamed her for the failing of his marriage. It wasn’t fair to put the blame for something as huge as this on a little girl and yet, Arthur never tried to convince her otherwise. It was comforting to know that one of her parents felt different from the other, but Celia craved her father’s attention, yet her efforts always went unnoticed. As a young child, she tried desperately to get him to look her way, whether that be with good or ill intentions. After all, she was a true people pleaser. It was so easy to please Evelyn, so why was it so impossible with him? Maybe he would see her if she passed the semester with flying colors, make a heartfelt card for father’s day, or by pushing a girl down the stairs and being sent home for two weeks? No. She never got the affection or attention she so desperately wanted from the man whom she admired from afar. Her efforts continued and blossomed into something she did obsessively as she went into high school as she flourished into a graceful, clever young lady. But behind her friendly smile, was an empty girl, who tried to please the two people who brought her into this world, no matter what.  

Celia turned into a shell of her former self. On the outside, her life continued as it had, and people never noticed the difference. On the inside, everything fell apart. Her naivety turned on her, made her see how cruel people could really be, but once the realization hit, Celia had already become a puppet on her mothers’ strings. Her life was already all planned out for her by her mother. First, she’d graduate and catch herself a wealthy young man from a good family, marry him and then move him to Catalina. Being extremely witty and incredibly smart, she excelled in school and soon was accepted to numerous Universities and colleges that were interested in the young woman, but for the first time, Celia had found something she wanted more than the attention she wanted from Arthur. Parties, alcohol and staying out late – even though done in secret, became her kryptonite. During the day, Celia stood straight with a smile at her mothers side and during the night, she drank more than she could handle and danced until her feet hurt. The group of friends she found herself within, quickly showed her how good it could be to be reckless every once in a while. Accepted into Stanford, Celia left feeling truly untouchable and ended up celebrating her first year, she would only do once in her life. Too much alcohol paired with trying drugs for the first time didn’t end too well for the youngest Halliwell. The night ended in a hospital room, unbeknownst to anyone but Evelyn who got the call at four in the morning. In true Lucinda Cabot fashion, Evelyn took a page from her mothers book and did everything in her power to make sure Celia’s misstep wouldn’t see the light of day. While everyone thought the girl was at Stanford, her mother sent her to a rehab facility; once again relying on other people to care for her daughter, instead of showing her the love she needed. However, Celia didn’t only receive treatment for her ‘drug abuse’ (which was ridiculous considering she never took any before that night), but also for the psychological issues that piled up over the years. 

Coming back home during spring break, Celia met the person who’d help her finally break free for good. Devilishly handsome, a true gentleman, with an ambition to go places. Places where Celia actually wanted to be. They met at a beach party on the night of her return and she was instantly smitten. Completely taken by every detail about him and who he was. She wanted more, more of him. The feelings were anything but one-sided and Celia suddenly wanted something for herself. Something more than just to please the people around her. She’d gotten a taste of happiness when he kissed her for the first time and instantly longed for more. Their romance started abruptly, a couple of months spent in Europe on a trip together and Celia felt free for the first time in her life. When it was time to return to California and ‘’go back to Stanford’’, the young girl sent her mother a text, letting her know she would take the year to “live and breathe” Europe. She couldn’t come back just yet. Freedom tasted good and she would enjoy it for as long as she could. Their relationship lasted all through Italy, Spain, Greece, and France before they went their separate ways. Although Celia came back home alone, she came back home whole. It hadn’t been a whole year, but enough time for her to realize that she didn’t want what her mother wanted for her anymore. Their conversation was civil, Evelyn had a flair for dramatics and turned on the waterworks from time to time, but Celia wouldn’t budge anymore. She’d given her mother seventeen years of her happiness; it was her own turn now.

At twenty-four Celia could have accomplished more hadn’t she let Stanford slip through her fingers, but unlike other people she’d gone to school with, she didn’t walk through life like a zombie anymore. Sure, there were many who would prefer a life as a socialite and be happy doing what her mother does day in and day out, but that could never be her. Not again. She isn’t as naive anymore, nor did she only see the good in people anymore, but Celia still believes in the good in people over the bad. While her mother more than praises herself for shaping her youngest daughter into the woman she is today, Celia knows that her remaining faith in humanity was surely not influenced by her parents or a healthy family dynamic.

PERSONALITY

Positive: Optimistic | Independent | Responsible

Negative: Insecure | Naive | Cautious

Celia Halliwell is portrayed by Nessa.

[vcls]

look !! it’s valencia ‘v’ rivera !! she’s my favorite c-list stylist with  192k followers, even though she’s only twenty-six. i heard she can be undemonstrative and impatient, but i think she’s illustrious and passionate. when i first saw her, i could’ve sworn she was ursula corberó, but i’m sure she’s heard that before.

BASIC INFO.

FULL NAME: valencia rivera.

BIRTHDAY: september 14th 1994

ZODIAC: virgo

NICKNAMES: v, rivera, val ( by friends ), valencia ( parents ), cia ( by her sister )

HEIGHT/WEIGHT: 5′8, 130 lbs.

TATTOOS:  a few placed all over. working on sleeves

BASIC STYLE:  androgynous, more masculine than feminine, alternative

USUAL EXPRESSION:  resting bitch face or resting confused face

TRAITS: +illustrious,  +passionate,  -undemonstrative,  -impatient.

FEARS: letting her family down .

AESTHETIC: messy hair, under eye bags, takeaway coffee cups, scuffed up shoes, kind heart, unsent letters, 2am phone calls, late night adventures, long drives, worn leather jackets, doc martens.

TRIGGERS: negative mentions of her family, specifically her parents and sister

BACKGROUND & PERSONALITY.

valencia comes from a very loving home. she knows she’s incredibly lucky to have the family she does, her parents are still madly in love with each other and she couldn’t ask for a better relationship with her little sister. they are her world. 

growing up, the family were just comfortable. some months were better than others money-wise but they knew that no matter what they’d be okay because they had each other. 

as a child she found it a lot easier to get along with boys than girls. she enjoyed the adventure and play style most of the boys around her had rather than the girls. like imagination games and moms and dads was fun sometimes but she loved play fighting and getting muddy more... a thing that drove her mum a little bit crazy but she wouldn’t change valencia for the world!

gender norms weren’t a thing that val stood by either. she loved ‘boy things’ like playing sports, fighting, watching games with her dad and just being rowdy but she also liked playing dress up, giving makeovers, baking with her mom and being sensitive. 

all her life, she knew she was different. she could agree with her sister about the cute boys in their magazines and on tv... but she couldn’t picture herself ever marrying one. her sister would have crushes on various boys at school and v never found herself feeling anything. it all soon became clear though. and her name was sarah. 

from the age of 10 to 15, val and sarah were best friends and she was wrapped around that girl’s finger. they’d do everything together and quite clearly adored each other. it was so clear to everyone except val and sarah however that val’s adoration was a lot more than just from the perspective of a best friend. and it wasn’t until sarah had to move away that val realised her true feelings. she was heartbroken. the two girls wrote each other all the time but val never felt right confessing her true feelings to her friend. there had been a few times where she’d tried to write it out but always decided against sending them. 

she told her family about what she’d realised. she was a lesbian. they all took it well, her happiness being their only priority. her sister was a little bit taken back and took a little longer than her parents to come round but she was only 13 and didn’t totally understand the whole thing. 

being the 2000′s, being gay brought a lot of bullying and homophobia her way. older family members in spain even writing to her parents to tell them they need to ‘get her help’ to which her parents kindly told them where they can shove their opinions and let her continue to find herself. a lot of the girls at school treated her like she had some kind of disease and would refuse to be around her which made her feel like shit as you can imagine but she always pushed through with the support of her family. 

eventually, she came across a group of kids who didn’t treat her any different and supported her, some of them even being the same or incredibly similar to her. they opened her up to a lot of new things. new styles, new adventures, new music. and she loved it all. this group is why she is how she is today. they taught her about androgyny, about doing what you want and not giving a fuck about anyone else and about always being open and welcome to other people, even if you don’t totally understand them at first. 

all these years, one thing about herself had stayed consistent. she’d always loved a good makeover. she was the one her friends came to for their hair and makeup for parties/dates and she’d be the one they came to for style advice and she loved that! she showed a lot of promise, as told by her drama teacher who often recruited her for help with costuming and styling for school plays. so as soon as she was able to, v went to beauty school and grew her talents. 

never in a million years would she have thought this would get her to where she is today, stylist to the stars! and an incredibly popular one at that. fame isn’t a big deal to her though, she just happy to have a good job in an area she loves and being in a position to help her family out. 

relationship wise, val has always dreamed of having a connection like what her parents have but so far, her few short lived relationships haven’t exactly shown much promise. sometimes she jokes that she’s terrible at picking girls since they all either only like her because she has access to celebrities, only like her because she has a little bit of fame they can use or they’re just not great people! she still secretly holds out hope though.

v has gained herself a bit of a tough outer shell after all these years of dealing with rude celebrities, catty competition and just general homophobia. some find it hard to get close enough to truly know her beautiful personality but those that do know they have a friend for life in v. 

in her spare time she likes going to sport games, experiencing l.a, drawing and painting and occasionally going out with her friends. she’s very into politics and often attends protests, this isn’t something she usually talks about though like she prefers to just do stuff than talk about how she is going to or has done something.

her professional name is v rivera so to the majority of the people at shine, they would only call her v or rivera. she likes to save ‘val’ for her close friends, who are also welcome to come up with their own nicknames and ‘valencia’ is something only her parents call her (or sometimes her friends when she’s in trouble) and ‘cia’ is something only her sister has ever called because she struggled to say valencia when she was a toddler.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

sarah (this name can change): the girl who has always been a ‘what if’ in val’s mind. perhaps they lost touch and stopped writing to each other after a while? maybe they still write each other but just haven’t crossed paths again? maybe she also had feelings for val but was too scared to say anything or maybe she saw her purely as a best friend and we can find out her reaction to knowing the truth? maybe they could now be industry rivals and have to deal with the dynamic of their once best friend being competition? so much choice!

her sister: these two are as close as can be. they’ve had each other’s backs from day one and val would die for her sister no questions asked. 

best friends: your muse is one of the few in the industry who took the time to break down val’s walls and get to know who she truly is. you see the weird and wonderful things that go on in her brain and also the fire in her heart and embrace it all just as she embraces everything about your muse. ( would be open to probably 2 or 3 )

industry rivals: hollywood is cutthroat and there’s always someone better. these two have been head to head for a while. maybe they admire each other’s artistic ability and use that to better themselves? maybe they can’t stand each other and always want to one up the other out of spite? maybe they’re really good friends and a bit of healthy competition never hurts? maybe they were once good friends but the competition pushed them apart?

“boyfriend/husband”: this is valencia’s boy best friend. he’s her boy and if she were straight she’d marry the fuck out of him. they probably get each other valentine’s day gifts and make jokey relationship posts about each other on their socials. they have a lot of love for each other. they always wingman each other and bro out whenever they can. i also like to imagine val practising make up looks on him if she can’t picture how it’ll look on an actual person.

idk what to call it: they love to work with each other. so maybe an actor/singer/model/etc who whenever they’re given the choice will always ask val to be their stylist and if she’s available, val will always do it because they’re one of her favourites. they probably have a good vibe together and enjoy each other’s company and if they spent more time together would be great friends but maybe due to work they’ve never had the chance before?

ex-girlfriends: this has so much opportunity for plots and backstory so if you’re interested in this then we’ll have to talk about what went down and why things didn’t work.

exes who can’t seem to let go: (i’m v inspired by this song and need a plot like it) maybe they broke up because things weren’t working but they decided to stay friends because even though the relationship was wrong they still care about each other. and they keep trying to move on but everytime they see each other, something ends up happening even though they both know it probably shouldn’t.

flirtationship: maybe her and a straight girl or her and a boy or even her and a gay girl... they probably both know nothing’s going to happen but they enjoy flirting with each other. where’s the harm in flirting?

enemies: these two just don’t vibe together. it’s not a thing, it doesn’t work. backstory can be worked out but yeah, they’re really don’t get along.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, JULIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of OBERON with an approved FC change to Oscar Isaac. Admin Rosey: I don't know how many times I said I was possessed when I wrote Oberon but I very much was. I think you have to be a little bit possessed to write him because that's the kind of person he is; you have to be all in with him or perish. I don't know what it is about these types of enigmatic, almost ethereal characters that you understand - they have one foot in heaven and one foot in hell - but you get them at their core, Julie. Thank you for bringing my most beautiful son to the dash. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Julie

Age | 20

Preferred Pronouns | She/her

Activity Level | I mean, y’all know how it is. One draft a day usually does it for me, and at the bare minimum, I shoot for a few replies a week.

Timezone | MST

How did you find the rp?  | I was perusing the ‘lsrpg’ tag, and the rest was history.

Current/Past RP Accounts | Lucien!

IN CHARACTER

Character | Oberon / Olivio Rivera -- with a fc change to Oscar Isaac, if it’s okay with you guys.

What drew you to this character? | There’s something about Olivio that makes him half-man half-hell, and that’s fascinating to me. I think, to a degree, he’s as human as the rest of us, with good parts and bad, but most people don’t show those parts so brazenly and manage to be half as discreet while doing it. This charm is pretty different from a character like Lucien’s, because it’s not a necessary charm. It’s not something he learned to do. It’s something he's always had in him for as long as he’s been -- it’s essential to the core of who he is as a person. There’s a dream-like quality to him that pulls you in and a nightmare-like quality that makes you take a step back when you get too close. He’s brutal in the way he orchestrates his own downfall just to get away from work he no longer has an interest in. He’s gentle with Theo, still grieving, because he knows they’re still working through something and it’s not entirely his place to poke and prod. Walking the thin line involved in this dichotomy is something that immediately caught my attention, and I’d love to explore both sides to him in the way Oberon deserves.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | 

1. I’d like to explore what Olivio has to sacrifice in order to ascend in the Capulets. He’s already lived a fair bit of his life without any of it really being impacted by the mobs of Verona, so his priorities and goals are likely pretty different from characters that have been here their entire lives. It’ll probably take a while before he builds relationships strongly enough in Verona that he has anything worth sacrificing, but as soon as he does, I’d like to yank them from under him, see how he fares -- if he’s worth becoming a soldier or an emissary in the way that Theodora thinks he can be. He’s strangely comfortable as an initiate, sitting at the bottom of the barrel, but how long is that comfort going to last him?

2. With Olivio, there’s definitely a two-faced element to him, in much the same way there’s a two-faced element to Oberon in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. He’s brutal and gentle all in one, and I’d like to explore what dictates in him which part comes out where. He gets his work done and ties it off in a neat bow, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he shies away from the ugliest parts of himself. How does he fare in comparison to someone like Orpheus, a dead man, who had similar goals and aspirations as the Robin Hood of Verona but didn’t set out to become that sort of figurehead -- everyone remembers Orpheus. No one knows Olivio. I also think it’s entirely possible his two-faced nature could undermine his reputation and his overall climb towards a more concrete place in the Capulets, if he isn’t careful, and I’d love to see what the consequences are. It worked for him in Spain. It might not work for him here.

3. In the para sample, I allude a little to Olivio’s dream in the same way it’s alluded to in his biography -- this borderline fantastical dream of a better place, a better world, where the underdogs and the fantastical alike can come together and live in harmony. A place where he can taste honey in his mouth where there might have been blood. I’d like to explore Olivio’s past in reflection to his present. He’s had the same dream his entire life, worked towards it slowly but surely in his youth, and then he ended up sitting on top of an empire he didn’t expect to have and didn’t really want. He gets caught up in his own flaws, and it all crumbles apart right from underneath him, and I’d love to see if he’s doomed to repeat that in Verona or if things are really going to be different this time around.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | I think so! As long as it serves a purpose, I’m happy to dip my hands in angst.

IN DEPTH

TW: VIOLENCE, DEATH

Cesar’s face is so heavily caked with blood that Olivio doesn’t think he could see through the red if he wanted to. His right eye is swollen. He’s missing some teeth. His breath is coming out in wheezes from a few broken ribs, and Olivio -- in spite of his shape, in spite of being three years Cesar’s junior -- is out of breath. They’d grappled for the pistol for some time only for it to go flying under a table somewhere when Cesar kicked it up. Now, staring each other down in an empty backroom in El Valenciano, they’re catching their breath. They’re both drenched in the vibrant pink of overhead lights. It could be a painting, he thinks. Something right out of sleep. He’s had dreams like this before, and they usually don’t end quite so badly.

It makes sense in Olivio’s head that Cesar wouldn’t go down without a fight. That’s fine. He never has. But Cesar knows that Olivio’s never liked losing. Even in drills and races and training exercises, even in the field, neck-to-neck, rifle-to-rifle, Olivio never gave him the chance to get ahead. So those few months where Olivio was falling from grace, slipping from his throne? They must have felt like winning to Cesar. He must have not even realized that the game was rigged from the start.

That’s fine, too. Olivio was always the brain of the operation. Cesar served his purpose as the brawn, the Lancelot to his Arthur. 

“You should’ve let me leave, a year ago. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here.” There’s a headache building at the back of his head. Stress or exhaustion. Both? He takes his own trembling hands and grapples for a glass of what looks like bourbon from one of the still-standing tables. Cesar watches him, licks his lips when Olivio swallows. 

“No one leaves. You’ve never let anyone leave. You shouldn’t get the same luxury, Olivio.” Cesar spits the words out so angrily that Olivio’s almost convinced he believes them, but it’s still hard to hear him over the thrumming reverb of the music. Sweet dreams are made of this, who am I to disagree? Catchy. In this moment, in spite of the gore, Olivio thinks Cesar looks young again. Fuzzy around the edges, purple-pink-crimson, young. No more grey at the temples, crow’s feet around the edges. Just blood on his teeth, shifting from pink to blue in a moment’s notice.

“Where are you going to go?” Cesar asks, as he moves a few steps closer. He’s still holding the glass in a white-knuckled grip. His heart is going a million miles a minute. It’s not easy to kill a man with your bare hands, but he’s done it before. He’ll do it again. It feels right to do it this way, with his fists, rather than the barrel of a gun. He wraps his fingers in Cesar’s collar with his free hand and Cesar barely even jerks to meet the movement. He’s all dead weight. Olivio considers the question.

“I’ll go to Verona.”

“In Italy? Bah.” Cesar laughs, throat hoarse. Spittle paints Olivio’s face, but the disgust barely registers. “You always hated Italy -- shot down any business there every time.”

“I hear it’s nice this time of year.”

“You’re burning every bridge you have in Spain. When winter comes around there won’t be any coming back. This is it. You kill me and we’re done.” This feels right out of the pages of the novel. He wonders if maybe he should deliver some sort of dramatic monologue. Something about being brothers from the very beginning. Hold your head up! Moving on! “You’re going to regret it, and you won’t get to crawl back and apologize to me this time.”

Even Olivio’s two divorces weren’t this messy. Still, he leans in close. “It’s not my dream anymore. I’m just making sure it won’t be yours, either.” He searches Cesar’s face for something. Anything. An apology. An indication of guilt. A plea for mercy. The animal-like terror that comes into men moments before they die. They’d seen it a thousand times before, together, and they’d laughed about it over drinks. A shifting green light passes slowly over his eyes. The world goes seafoam.

Nothing. Just their shared breaths. Not even a do it. Olivio sighs. He lifts his hand holding the glass and brings it down. Cesar, to his credit, doesn’t scream. He just takes what he’s given and dies quietly, in the club they bought back when they thought they’d go somewhere bigger than Barcelona. Or maybe that was just him. It doesn’t take more than two minutes.

Olivio stands back, checks Cesar’s pulse, and then wipes his hands on his slacks, chest heaving. 

The ‘ludes start to kick in just as he leaves the club, bloodied jacket in hand, a little later than he would have liked. The cleaners sweep in to wipe evidence away as soon as he’s stepped out of the room and towards the exit. Not a single employee looks at him as he leaves, and the people dancing on the floor hardly notice him. The doorman nods at him on his way out. The car waiting for Olivio at the curb takes him straight to the airport, and he barely has time to settle in his seat before he’s asleep. When he wakes, it’s to the sight of Verona and the river that runs right through it, the sun cresting overhead. He descends onto the tarmac cotton-mouthed, changed into clean clothes, and satisfied.

Cesar had been the last loose end. With his death everything in Spain has tied itself up into a neat bow. The ashes of whatever vision he and Cesar might have shared at some point would be gathered up and put into someone else’s hands. Marta’s, he hopes. She’d always been the most capable, in his mind. She’d been the one to tell him of Verona, originally, when she caught wind of what he was doing: razing everything he’d built. She’d been smart enough to stay loyal in the face of his personally orchestrated coup, and he let her live.

He just hopes she doesn’t take it for granted like he had. That she’ll lay out her own path and stick to it, instead of watching it build by itself and grow restless. Verona won’t be like that -- he’s sure of it. It has to be a new start, one he’ll be happy to die by.

In two days’ time --- and he doesn’t know this now, but he will look back at it and laugh --- he’ll kill an enemy of the Capulets in much the same way he killed Cesar, hooked on the sheer euphoria of his newfound love for the city, just outside a place achingly close to El Valenciano, and it won’t even get him in trouble. The Capulets will sweep him up before he has the time to come down from the high, and they’ll bring him into the fold without even knowing his name. He’ll start from the very bottom, and he’ll relish in it, because it’s been a long time since he had nothing.

What he does know: the Capulets are the key to this newfound dream of his, this new-and-shiny-glossy illusion, and Olivio Rivera will take whatever he can get in a city like this, so long as it means he doesn’t have to raze it to the ground.

Extras: [glass him] PLAYLIST / PINTEREST [cesar won’t remember this.]