#SIR HOW MUCH MORE PREPARED WOULD YOU LIKE THIS 23 YEAR OLD WITH NO WORK EXPERIENCE TO BE?!?!

[tacosaysroar]

I have SO much work to do this week and spent all day in meetings rather than doing any of it. (Boooooo) The meetings were mostly new hire interviews with fresh-from-college hopefuls, and ooof. God, I do NOT miss being that age.

[weirdfangirly]

Little Red Light—+18

Dark Fiction

dark!Joel x reader // dark!Tommy x reader

Warnings: dub-con/non-con, sex work, sexual exploitation (reader is being filmed against her will), dark Joel & Tommy, drug abuse (cocaine), drinking, name-calling, spanking, humiliation & degradation of reader, description of injuries & blood, cum-shot, face-fucking, blowjob, kissing feet, face-slapping, dark themes…

Summery: In a rundown motel, reader finds herself in an nightmarish encounter with Joel and Tommy. Trapped in a cycle of abuse and degradation, she struggles to escape the grim reality of her life as a prostitute, haunted by the consequences of her choices

A/n: please like, share and leave a comment! It honestly is my only motivation to keep writing. This is dark, very long and very depressing. Much fun xoxo

In the eerie silence of the night, you stood hesitantly before room 23 of a shady motel, its flickering red neon sign offering you a pale glimmer of confidence in the desolate landscape.

Wearing a coat that failed to shield you from the biting cold, your wrestled with a mix of anticipation and worry.

Tonight marked the beginning of yet another miserable dance with your fate as you mentally prepared yourself to meet your first client of the night.

You hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock on the door.

*knock*

*knock*

*knock*

“Let’s get this over with.”, you thought.

Moments later, the door cracked open, revealing a man who’s weathered face painted with lines of hardships.

The man’s rugged features softened slightly as his stern eyes landed on you, his gaze betraying a flicker of empathy.

Your soft features were the prettiest sight he’d seen all week. A pretty little thing.

“Come in.”, the man’s voice, gravelly yet strangely comforting, broke the silence of the night.

He went by the name of Joel Miller.

With a cautious nod, you stepped inside. Your footsteps echoing softly against the floorboards.

The door closed behind you with a soft *click.*

As soon as you stepped in, a wave of musty air assaulted your senses, carrying the unmistakable scent of neglect and decay of the room.

“It smells like an old ladies house.”, you thought.

Your gaze swept across the room, taking in the sight of dilapidated furniture that sagged under the weight of years of use and abuse—a sight that reminded you of yourself. Once a joyful child with a promising future, now your inner lights dimmed by the harsh realities of life.

The bed was adorned with stained sheets that bore the telltale marks of countless forgotten encounters—Before long, you would add your own imprint to the fabric.

This thought left you deeply depressed.

It was only now that the shadows of the room revealed another man seated in the corner of the room…

His presence imposing, he sat with quiet confidence. Clad in white wife-beaters & faded jeans his thick black curly hair framed a rugged face. His mustache highlighted his stern expression, adding to the mystery of his presence.

His gaze—dark and inscrutable—met yours.

Irritation swept across your face, you turned back to Joel “I don’t do threesomes, sir.”, you said firmly, but your voice betrayed a hint of worry.

Joel’s expression hardened.

You couldn’t help but noticed the stark contrast between your ages…The lines etched into Joel’s face telling a story of a life lived long and hard. In contrast your own features still bearing the softness of youth. It was your eyes though that exposed how brittle and weak you really were.

“I’ll pay you extra.”, he said.

The offer hung heavy in the air.

Joel reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He held out the money to you.

Temptation aroused deep within you. It was more money than Dean—your boyfriend—expected you to bring back home tonight…

With trembling hands, you reached out to the money. The crisp bills feeling foreign and heavy in your grip.

As Joel’s gaze bore into yours, you felt a pang of guilt nagging on your conscience. You could feel that accepting this money came with an unknown risk.

You didn’t know those men. They could be bad.

There was a hint of danger lurking behind the shadows of this transaction—But in this moment, the promise of financial security outweighed the nagging voice of doubt that whispered in the back of your mind.

You nodded, accepting his offer. You put the money inside your handbag.

It was sealed.

Joel’s features softened. He triumphantly looked over to the other man in the room—his younger brother, Tommy.

Their silent conversation went unnoticed by you.

“Can I use the restroom, please?”, you asked, voice quivering slightly despite your attempt to sound composed. The weight of uncertainty pressing down on you.

You’d never done anything with two man before...

With a nod, Joel gestured towards the bathroom door.

You made your way to the small, cramped bathroom. In an attempt to shake off the unease you splashed some water on your face and took a deep breath to steady your nerves.

“Get it over with.”, you told yoursel.

You peeled off your coat, revealing the slutty attire your wore beneath. It was by no means modest and clung to your curves like a second skin.

Dean made you wear it, saying that men liked to see a pretty girl in a dress too small for her.

Despite the dim lights, you felt exposed and vulnerable. With trembling hands you smooth down the fabric of the dress, your fingers tracing the patterns of the dress as if seeking reassurance in their familiarity.

Taking a deep breath, you told yourself that you got this, that you would face whatever was awaiting you with courage. You’d squared your shoulders and walked out of the room.

As you emerged from the bathroom, the dim light of the room cast a subtle glow over you figure, highlighting the obvious differences between the men and you.

Joel and Tommy who’s gaze locked onto you. Their gaze lingering hungrily as their minds raced with illicit thoughts…

They didn’t saw you as a person, but as an object for their lust and greed. It was about power and control to them, about profit, and you’d just accepted their offer; cash in exchange for your bod.

Tonight you belonged to them.

Unaware of their true intentions, you offered them a shy little smile. Despite how nervous you were, you refused to let fear consume you.

But it all came crashing down on you when your eyes landed on the camcorder attached atop a tripod. Its lens pointed directly at the bed...

Panic shot through you veins as the realisation set in: they intended to film you!

A shiver ran down your spine.

“Why is there a camcorder?”, you asked after summoning the courage to confront them about it. 

Jowls response was a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette. The ember glowing brightly in the dimly lit room as smoke danced lazily around him. With a nonchalant exhale, he met your gaze. His expression unreadable as he considered his response.

“It’s just for fun.”, he finally replied, his tone casual yet laced with a hint of something darker beneath the surface.

“I-I don’t like the idea of being recorded.”, you stated your discomfort firmly.

“You already accepted our money, baby-face.”, Tommy smiled, his deep voice cutting through the air like a knife. “There is no backing out of this.”

It was only now that you recognised the undeniable resemblance between Tommy and Joel. The only difference between them was that Tommys eyes held a glimmer of youthful vitality, untouched by the weight of the world that seemed to burden Joel’s.

They were brothers, you realised.

For some reason their familial ties only scared you more…

Tommys words had landed a heavy blow on you. You realised that you were trapped Your fate sealed by the very desperation that had driven you into the men’s clutches.

“Calm down,”, Joel’s voice cuts through the tense air, his voice smooth and reassuring. “We’ll only record for private use.”

Despite the foul feeling in your gut, you forced yourself to believe him. You cling to the fragil hope that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to his words.

“O-okay.”, you nodded.

Tommy reached inside his pocket and fished out a little bag of cocaine. He started to line up the powder onto the wooden table.

“Ya want some?”, he asked you.

His offer hung heavy in the air, loaded with the promise of escape and oblivion, but you knew too well the dangers that lurked beneath its enticing facade of the powder.

It brought back memories of Dean, who’s addiction to cocaine would only fuel his violent outbursts, oftentimes directed at you.

You hoped that Tommy would react differently to the drug.

“No thank you, mister.”, you shook your head. Despite the allure of temporary relief, you couldn’t afford to lose yourself in the haze of drugs.

Tommy shrugged, leaned forward and consumed the powder through his nose—an immediate and noticeable shift overtook his demeanour. The drug infusing him with newfound energy.

You watched with growing unease.

“Is the camera rolling?”, he asked Joel with anticipation.

You knew, once the camera was rolling there was no turning back…

Joel took a swig from the whiskey bottle.

With a steady gaze Joel addressed you, his voice laced with authority as he outlined the rules for the night:

“All you gotta do,” he begun, “is to do what we say. No questions, no objections. Understand?”

His short speech echoed in the silence, each word a chilling reminder of the power dynamics at play.

“Yes, sir.”, you replied, your words a whispered admission of defeat in the face of his overwhelming dominance.

He reminded you of your father.

Joel nodded approvingly at your submission. Joel reached for the camcorder, pressing the record button with a sense of finality.

The red light blinked to life.

Tommy made his way over to the bed. His imposing figure filing the room with an aura of dominance. He sat down right in front of the camcorder, the bed creaked.

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of attraction towards him...

His strong physic and confident demeanour stirred something within you, despite the tension and fear that hung heavy in the air.

His gaze locked onto yours. “Come here, sweetheart.”, he gestured towards himself.

You obeyed Tommys command. You approached him slowly.

When you were close enough, he reached out for your hand. His touch sent a jolt of electricity skittering across your skin.

With a gentle yet firm guidance, he positioned you between his open legs—right in in front of the lens. As you stood there, trapped between his powerful frame you felt small and caged.

“Undress yourself.”, he said and gave your ass a playful but firm smack, sending yet another jolt of electricity through your body.

With trembling hands, you begun to undress yourself.

With Joel lingering behind the camcorder, his eyes fixed on the unfolding scene, you felt a sense of vulnerability wash all over you. You were painfully aware of the fact that you were being watched, every move captured by the unblinking lens of the recording devise.

You peeled away the layers of fabric that were shielding you from their hungry gaze.

As you stood there in front of them, clad in only your skin, Tommys hands started to roam all over your body. You felt a shiver of anticipation race down your spine.

But when his touch grew more insistent—turning from playful to possessive—you felt discomfort creeping in.

His hands wandered down between you legs, rubbing along your soft cunt, making Tommys eyes nearly roll back from anticipation. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch.

When Tommy felt your wetness, he smiled mischievously.

“What a good little whore you are.”, Tommy said and smacked your ass again, this time much harder.

You hissed in pain.

The harshness of his smack, coupled with the demeaning label he had assigned to you, you felt your heart grew heavy. The word “whore” echoing through your mind.

Joel seemed to notice your distress.

“I think you hurt her feelings, brother.”, Joel said, a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a perverse satisfaction blossoming within him at the sight of your distress.

Tommys laughter filled the room.

“Aw, is that true?” his tone mocking, “You don’t like being called a whore?”

You stayed silent, looking down, mentally scolding yourself for getting emotional in front of them.

He kept groping your ass and tits. His colossal hands all over you, burning your tender flesh.

“You liked it better when I called you sweetheart?” Tommy asked, “wanna be our little sweetheart? Get treated like a good girl, a little princess?”

You let him know with a timid little nod.

Tommy made you sit on top of his thigh. You felt out of place being so close to him now. The rough material of his jeans dug into your soft skin, creating some sparkling friction.

“Good girls don’t whore themselves out though...”, he whispered, nose buried deep in the pit between your neck and shoulder, revelling in your feminine scent.

You smelled like vanilla to him.

You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, the sting of his words cutting deep. You winced slightly as his hands pinched the flesh of your ass. You remained frozen in place.

“If you want to be treated good, then you have to beg for forgiveness.”, Tommy explained to you.

And then—without warning—Tommy tossed you away.

Pain shoot through you as you landed on the unforgiving ground next to his feet. Naked and vulnerable. You felt abandoned, like a discarded toy in the hands of a cruel child.

“Will you do that, little whore?”, Tommy asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Y-yes, sir.”, you nodded, yearning for any semblance of kindness. In your abandoned state, you failed to recognise the cruelty lurking behind his words.

“Take my shoes of and kiss my feet then, cunt.”

With trembling hands, you knelt before him, your fingers trembling as you struggled to remove his boots.

With a heavy heart and tears stinging your eyes, you pressed your plump lips to his feet. Your stomach churning with disgust at the act of submission.

“Please forgive me.” your voice barley above a whisper as you begged for absolution for the sins you were forced to commit

“Forgive what, cunt?”

“Please forgive me for being a..whore.”

As Joel watched the scene unfold in front of him, a sense of arousal stirred within him. His body responding to the display of power and control exhibited by his brother. The way you submitted to his brothers every whim, your vulnerability laid bare before them. It was thrilling.

“I’m not convinced—not at all.”, Tommy said after making a clicking sound with his tongue and shaking his head dismissively. “I’m not convinced that you’re actually sorry.”

Tommy rose to his full height, towering over you like a building, casting a shadow over you.

Tommy grabbed you by your upper arm, his grip tight. He guided you to lay down onto the bed, legs hanging off the edge. Your bare back was exposed to not only the men, but also the lens of the camcorder.

The uncertainty of what would unfold next hung heavy in your mind.

With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Tommy reached down and unfastened his leather belt. You heard the metallic clink of his belt echoing in the dimly lit room. Tears begun to flow from your eyes, as the dread of what Tommy would to do next sank in…

“No, no please!”, you cried out.

He was about to punish you, with his belt…

The humiliation of begging for forgiveness and kissing his feet was unbearable enough, but the thought of enduring further punishment filled you with a primal fear.

“Please I am sorry, don’t do that!”, your pleas landed on deaf ears.

“It’s for your own good.”, Tommy said and clenched his fists around the belt. “You’ll feel better afterwards.”

Truth was, Tommy couldn’t care less about how you felt. He was driven solely by his own twisted desires.

You shook your head in silent protest, tears streaming down your face. You knew that there was no escape. So you brace yourself—mentally and physically—for the inevitable impact that was about to come.

Tommy raised the belt high above his head before landing the first blow upon your bare ass, sending a wave of pain through your body.

“Ah!”, you cried out.

The next strike came quick after.

And again,

and again.

and again.

Each punishing blow, the sting of unforgiving leather against your skin served as a harsh reminder of the sins you were forced to commit.

Each punishing blow, a catapult that hurled you right back to your childhood… The punishments you would receive from your father were of equally painful nature…

Each punishing blow, letting you fall further down a pit of shame and humiliation.

As the hard blows from Tommy's belt continued, your delicate skin began to show signs of distress.

Red welts formed across your flesh, the skin splitting under the force of each strike, revealing raw patches that oozed a little blood.

With each blow, the pain intensified, the sting of the leather against your already irritated skin sending shockwaves of agony through your trembling frame.

Tommys dick got rock hard by your cries and begging.

The metallic tang of blood mixed with the scent of sweat and fear in the air, a visceral reminder of the brutality of Tommy's assault.

For Tommy, it smelled like heaven.

Despite the overwhelming pain, you gritted your teeth and endured, your spirit battered but unbroken. You reminded yourself that you’d endured worse. In the darkness of the room, you clung to the fragile hope of survival, knowing that this night was not different than any other; the sun would soon rise.

At this point you’d stopped screaming, entirely. Only finding the strength to cry bitterly into the stained bedsheets.

Despite the twisted satisfaction Joel got from Tommys cruel treatment, he couldn't ignore the sight of your battered and bloodied form.

Joel knew that he had to intervene.

He raised his voice just above the chaos, commanding Tommy to stop:

“Alright, that’s ‘nough, Tommy.” his voice cut through the air like a knife, his tone firm and authoritative.

Tommy hesitated, his grip on the belt loosening as he regarded his brother with a mixture of defiance and resignation.

Relief flooded through you as Joel put an end to Tommy's assault.

As Joel extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray with a flick of his wrist, he glanced at Tommy, making him understand that it was now his turn to take control of the situation.

With a predatory hunger still burning in his eyes, Tommy settled into his seat behind the camera.

Meanwhile, Joel approached the trembling, tear-streaked you.

“Can you stand up?”, curiosity lingering in his voice.

With a heavy heart you pushed yourself up on your hands and knees, sobbing quietly. Your body trembling with pain. You pushed yourself off the bed and stood on shaking legs in front of Joel Miller.

You looked a mess. Tear-streaked cheeks and a face contorted with pain.

“Thank you, sir.”, you sobbed.

Your eyes flickered over at Tommy who was sitting in the corner of the room, not letting you out of his sight. Chest rising and falling from the adrenaline and cocaine pumping through his veins.

As you trembled in the aftermath of his brutality, you couldn't help but view Tommy as a menacing figure whose mere presence filled you with a sense of dread.

To shield yourself from the menacing gaze of Tommy, you instinctively sought refuge behind the protective frame of Joel.

It was clear to Joel that Tommy's cruelty had left its mark on you psyche and that you now—in your hopeless delusion—sought protection from him.

But by him simply placing his large hand on your fragil shoulder—its weight upon you like a heavy stone, making you slowly sink down to your knees under its force—Joel made his position of power crystal clear to you.

It came crushing down on you: He wasn’t your ally, nor your saviour.

He may had stopped Tommy from assaulting you, however he’d also watched it happening in amusement. The only reason why he’d stopped his brother was because he feared Tommy would break you too quickly…

From you kneeling position, you gazed up at Joel. Your eyes filled with a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, Joel would treat you with more kindness and compassion than Tommy had…

Joel began to unbuckle his pants—without taking his eyes off of your pretty fear-streaked face—his movements deliberate and unhurried.

He revealed his hardened cock, it was thick and veiny and looked as powerful as his presence felt to you.

You were inches away from his manhood, the scent of his arousal filling your senses. You knew what he wanted from you next.

“Open up, girl.”, he said, a simple command.

You opened your mouth and leaned forward. Joel placed his hand on your head, before guiding his cock between your plump lips. It fit only partly. You began to move your tongue, letting it swirl around him.

As the scene unfolded before him, Tommy rose from his seat, his eyes fixed on you as you serviced Joel. With trained hands, he took the camcorder off the tripod. Now taking the role as his cameraman, Tommy moved closer to you and Joel to capture a more intimate view of what was going on.

It didn’t went unnoticed by you that Tommy was filming you from up-close now, determined to capture every little explicit detail.

You felt a surge of unease wash over you, now that Tommy was so close. The pain radiating from your ass a painful reminder of how Tommy was capable of. You grew nervous.

So you made the mistake of stopping and taking Joels cock out of your mouth to voice your discomfort.

You opened your mouth to speak, but with a sudden and forceful motion, Joel's hand connected with your cheek.

*smack*

The sharp crack of the impact echoing through the room.

As you recoiled from the strike, you felt fear and humiliation wash over you. Your spirit crushed once again by the weight of his punishment.

With tear-filled eyes, you bowed her head and cried.

“Who told you to stop?”, Joel asked, sounding annoyed with you.

You just shook your head, sobbing quietly.

“Open your mouth and don’t try that again…”

You quickly let him back inside your mouth and continued massaging his member with your tongue.

“They always get so eager after a good beating…”, Tommy smiled.

Joel felt the need to spice things up. So he grasped you by your hair—firmly—and took control over the situation by setting the rhythm and pace. Fucking your mouth, asserting his dominance in every motion. With each subtle shift of his hips and every whispered instruction, Joel made you feel smaller and smaller, whilst he grew bigger and bigger. You were completely at his mercy. Glued to his crotch.

You let him fuck your mouth, gagging and coughing under his grip.

“Good job, keep going.”, Joel hissed.

You opened tour eyes and looked up at him, your vision blurred from your tears. You liked hearing him praise you. It made you feel better. You tried your best not to puke around his cock—or pass out.

Your throat was burning and saliva was flowing out of the corners of your mouth like a waterfall. You were spasm hard, trying to keep your lunch down.

Joel was so deep inside your mouth, that Tommy—and the lens of the camcorder—could see the outline of Joel’s cock in your throat.

With merciless intensity, Joel thrust into your throat, his movements rough and unrestrained.

You started to throw your fists against his muscular thighs, hoping he would back up and let go of your head.

Each forceful thrust pushed your limits.

You couldn't help but wonder how much more you could endure before reaching your breaking point.

Right when your vision had started to get black, Joel released you from his merciless grip.

You collapsed to the ground in a heap, your body trembling with exhaustion and desperation for air. Gasping for air like a desperate goldfish out of water, you lay there, utterly spent and broken by the brutal encounter.

Next you felt was Joel fisting your hair and yanking yout face up. He came all over your face. Painting your face shiny white with bis cum.

“Fuck!”, he hissed, his appearance resembled a wild animal rather than a human.

When he was done, he let you go again.

Your throat burned with the aftermath of Joel's rough treatment. Every muscle in your body ached with fatigue, your mind reeling from the overwhelming sensations of pain and humiliation. Your face covered with sticky hot cum.

You felt utterly defeated. Once again you wondered how much you could endure tonight before reaching your breaking point.

“Good job, cunt.”, Joel halfheartedly said, still out of breath and in an undeniably good mood.

“Thank you, dad.”, you whispered in your out-of-your-mind state. A flicker of longing and desperation evident in your voice. You were close to falling unconscious.

“Aw, she thinks you are her fucking father.”, tommy laughed.

Joel remained outwardly composed, but felt a hint of satisfaction at your acknowledgment of his authority.

Tommy pressed the camcorder in Joel’s hand, “Alright I have enough of this.”, Tommys word were accompanied by lifting you up effortlessly and placing you on the bed

Panic floated your senses.

"Can I…can I have something to drink?", the request a desperate plea wanting to numb your senses so that you could endure whatever would come next.

Joel handed you the whiskey bottle, and you eagerly drowned the liquid down, hunting the numbness at the bottom of the bottle.

“Jesus Christ, that’s enough”, tommy said, reaching out to retrieve the bottle from your grasp.

You let yourself fall back on the hard mattress.

Tommy lowered himself onto you, his weight pressing down on your trembling form. "Let's find out just how much you're really worth," he murmured, his sinister words directed more to himself than at you.

He gripped his already hard member in his hand, slicking it with his saliva in preparation.

You didn’t count Tommy for someone who would take his time in preparing you for penetration, so additional help was welcomed.

You reached down and rubbed your clit, in hopes to generate some wetness…

But the only thing that was acting up was your flight or fight response.

Tommy's gaze resembled that of a starved dog, hungrily eyeing you as if you were only a piece of meat.

Tommy wasted no more time lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance between your shaking legs.

With a single forceful thrust, Tommy rammed his cock deep inside you.

“Ouh!”, you whimpered, clutching his thick muscular arms for support as a jolt of pain shot through you.

Tommy wasted no time, swiftly finding a rhythm that satisfied his desires, plunging in and out of you with relentless favour.

“Ah stop!”, you cried.

Instinctively, you resisted his brutal thrusts, attempting to push him away and free yourself from his assault.

Your attempt was met with yet another harsh slap across your face, reminding you painfully of your powerlessness against Tommy.

“Keep crying, little whore, come on.”, Tommy hissed.

You shook your head and looked away, but Tommy grasped your chin firmly, making sure you couldn't look away from him, his gaze commanding your full attention.

Your body trembled under Tommy with each forceful thrust.

It could’ve been the alcohol, but eventually, your body adapted to his thrusts, the sensation becoming dull.

“Fuck, for a rundown prostitute you are tight as fuck”, Tommy pressed out in between his thrusts.

Tommys degrading words seemed to be so far away, you almost couldn’t hear them.

Your gaze drifted over to Joel, who sat in Tommy's chair, his expression a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.

As your eyes met, a wave of shame washed over you, his watchful gaze reminded you of how your father used to look at you: disappointed and full of judgment.

It felt as if Joel could see right through you, condemning you for the wrong decisions you had made, like running away with your boyfriend, Dean.

In that moment, you realized your father had been right all along, but it was too late to turn back. You had irreversibly altered the course of your life, and men like Tommy were the consequence of your choices.

Another blow struck your cheeks, catching you off guard. “Don’t look at him, he won’t safe you this time.”

After what felt like an eternity, you sensed that Tommy was nearing his climax.

It was only then that you realised that he hadn’t bothered with a condom—another boundary crossed in the course of this night.

“Please don’t cum in me.”, you sounded hopeless.

Tommy drew out of you, grabbed your hair and yanked your head off the edge of the bed. He then violently started to empty his balls on your face, mixing his cum with your tears and his brothers cum.

When he was done, he let go of your hair. Your skull arched. Your ass hurt. And your throat and vagina feeling rough and scratchy.

“Don’t worry, cunt”, Tommy begun “last thing I want is having another whore being the mother of my child.”

It was only then you noticed that he wore a ring on his finger. He was married.

Tommy allowed himself to collapse onto the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath.

You rolled out of the bed and dragged yourself into the bathroom, tears and cum streaming down your face.

You cleaned your face with water, your hands shaking. You put your dress on. All you wanted to get out of here. You had your money, but you lost the little bit of dignity you had left.

“Dean will be proud.”, you thought. You just wanted to go back to him.

Stepping out of the bathroom, your feet carried you straight to the front door, driven by the urgent need to flee.

However, Joel's words stopped you in your tracks. "Tell Dean, Joel said hello.”

With a silent nod, you turned and walked back out into the eerie night, the weight of the encounter hanging heavy on your shoulders…

[edenreid-bau]

Cops-N-Robbers (prt1) the one where the 99 lost a detective

I sat at my desk finishing up the paperwork on the Kim murder, or my 'sweet murder case' as Jake would call it, when He walked into work, making a B line for my desk.

"heyyy hotstuff! watcha doinnnn?" he said as he sat down on the chair next to my desk. Rosa, who occupied the desk right in front of mine, rolled her eyes. "I'm doing my job, what were you doing that was so important for you to be one hour and 30 minutes late, 'hotstuff'" Jake stood up and laughed "I! was fixing up my car! so whos the one doing their job now?" I looked at him incredulously "still me, and how did you even get the money to-" I couldn't finish my sentence because Jake turned and noticed Amy coming out of Holt's office. He immediately walked towards her and they started flirting.

I rolled my eyes, for weeks now Jake had been drifting away from me and towards Amy more and more, as a matter of fact everyone had been. It was getting to a point where the longest conversation I had was fighting with the vulture. It was getting insanely lonely to work at the nine nine.

I had started looking for a new job in police work, I may have been the youngest detective on our team at 23 years old but that didn't stop me from wanting to join the Behavioral Analysis Unit as soon as I heard about it. I finally sent in my application for the Quantico team. I flew down for my interview with Aaron Hotchner soon after.

I followed the Stoic man up to his office, passing by a few people who all gave me slightly confused looks, before I found myself entering the small office. "Detective (y/l)" The man said as he stood up and held out his hand for me to shake "Agent Hotchner" I took his hand and gave it a firm shake before we both sat down. Agent Hotchner opened my file and quickly skimmed over it. "It says here that you finished high school at 15 years old, went to university in Mathematics, Computer Science and Mechanical Engineering, and have an IQ of around 190. It also says you got to detective in only one year and quickly became the best in your Precinct. this is highly impressive, what made you want to join the BAU now?"

"I love being a detective and I love New York, but I think its time to move on to new things and to help more people. I saw the BAU and did research on what you all do and I thought it would be the perfect job for me." Agent Hotchner nodded slowly before standing up. I did the same and he shook my hand. "welcome to the team Agent (y/l), you start in one month." "Thank you sir, have a nice day". As I left the office I caught the group of people whispering to each other and starring at me. when they saw I was looking at them they all ,very obviously, looked away into every direction and all scattered walking to their desks.

I found an apartment close enough to my new workplace and finished writing my two weeks notice in the plane back to new york. when my two weeks were over I walked over to the captains office as soon as I arrived, where the Sarge already was.

"Captain, Sarge?" "ah! Detective (y/l), please, sit down" I closed the door and sat down at his desk "sirs, I'm sent in my two weeks notice much earlier as im sure you've heard, and today is my last day at the 99" Terry and the Captain looked up from the captains computer simultaneously. "What??" the Captain looked insanely confused and i was sure Amy was peeping through the window but i didnt care. "I've gotten a job with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI in Quantico Virginia, and I start in a few weeks." The Sarge looked down at me sadly. "I care for you all as if you were my family but I need a new beginning and Virginia as well and the BAU seem like a perfect place for me to do just that" "alright. you are our best detective, and It was a Pleasure working with you" the captain gave me one of his rare smiles before I left and the sarge closed the door behind me.

I turned back towards the bullpen, preparing to walk back towards my desk and pack what little belongings I had there when i was met with Amy and Charles surrounding me. "Hey, What was that all about? I totally saw the captain give you a sad smile and- holy shit" she looked back towards the office window "are they crying?" sure enough, when we looked into the window the Sarge was fully crying and the Captain had a few tears running down his face, they were obviously trying to have a serious conversation and failing. "What the hell did you say to them (Y/N)!" Charles said, quite loud, the team looked towards us, without me noticing. "Todays my last day at the 99, their making it a bigger deal that it actually is really" The team suddenly walked towards me all sounding insanely confused. they were all talking at the same time making everything seem like a strange jumble of sadness, and anger "What??" "why??" "couldn't you have told us??" "What are you going to do?". I finally stopped their rambling by answering "I got a new job that, I think, will suit me better. I care for you all but I need a fresh start" Jake was, for once quite serious, he really looed heart broken to see me go but i knew if i never left, i would be stuck there forever like Hitchcock and Scully. Jake looked up and said "What's your new job gonna be?" I rolled my eyes slightly smirked at him and left, but not before throwing a "You'll never find out" as the elevator doors shut on my friends.

what i didnt know was that they would, in fact

Find out.

AN

hey! this is my first series and so please dont be too harsh when judging me, i take requests and just message me your username if you want to join my Cops-N-Robbers taglist!

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 24 – The Show Doesn’t Care if You’re Falling Apart

Chapter 1     Chapter 23

That was… well, not harder than anticipated, they anticipated it being hard, but terrible.  That was terrible.  Everything just barely seemed to come together.  Even after all their preparation, as always seems to happen, it came down to the last few seconds before they were able to disarm the last of the bombs.  On top of that both Garth and Lilith had gotten injured pretty badly.  They were all slightly off their game with Roy off the mission due to his broken jaw and multiple cracked ribs.  Dick probably should have waited until after the mission to kick his ass, but he would never have been able to hold off his anger that long and if he’d had to be in an enclosed place with him for two weeks, Roy would have ended up in the hospital for a few months at least.

Dick scrubbed his hand over his face a few times.  God, he was glad to be home.  He wished more than anything he was walking into his apartment and into Marinette’s open arms.  He would give anything to just curl up with Marinette in their bed and sleep for a week with her in his arms, but he’d burned that bridge pretty soundly.

Instead, he was walking into his childhood home because he didn’t know if Marinette was still in their apartment and he wasn’t about to make her feel awkward if she was.  He really hoped she was still there.  They’d bought that place to be a home for the twins.  He wanted them to have that, even if it didn’t include him.  

So he avoided what he hoped was their home and came back to the manor.  Hell, he wasn’t sure if he was all that welcome here either considering how Jason and Tim had been acting before he left.  But, he needed somewhere to lay down and rest while he figured out how to make it up to Marinette, or at the very least be amicable for the sake of the twins.  He knew she wouldn’t cut him out of the twins’ lives, but he wanted more than to just be there.  He wanted them to work together, to be together.  He wanted her, even knowing he didn’t deserve her.  He wanted to make her happy.  He wanted to be happy and he hadn’t been whenever he wasn’t with her.  Every time he left, he was miserable.

He looked up when he heard footsteps making their way toward him quickly and perked up a bit.  Maybe the family wasn’t as angry with him as he had anticipated.  Maybe, they were coming to welcome him home.  If they weren’t too mad, then maybe they’d help him prove himself to Marinette.  He could definitely use the help and they were all close to Marinette.  He smiled at Bruce, Tim, and Jason as they entered the foyer.  “Hey guys!”

“Dick!  Welcome home. Congratulations on the mission. Tell me about it after you’ve gotten settled in,” Bruce smiled warmly at him.

“It’s all in the report, B,” Dick chuckled.

“Yeah, but I want to hear you talk about it, about more than just what was in the report.”  Bruce clapped him on his shoulder as he passed him to make his way outside.

Dick beamed at him and finally took note of their outfits. “You guys look nice.  Where are you going?”

“Out, asshole,” Jason growled roughly bumping his shoulder into Dick’s as he walked out too.

Tim gave him a sympathetic look as he passed.  “Welcome back.  Hope to see you there.”  He nodded and followed them out.

Dick furrowed his brow, staring at the door for a few moments. Join them where?  “Welcome home, Master Dick.  Should I have your room prepared for tonight?” Alfred asked as he pulled on his coat as well.

“I think that’s probably for the best until I can speak with Marinette,” Dick grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck.  

“I believe Miss Marinette and Kismet have been staying with Master Adrien since you left,” Alfred informed him.  His voice was passive but years of experience with Alfred allowed Dick to detect the sharpness in the words.

“I see.  Thank you, Alfred,” he shot him a look to let him know he understood the message Alfred was passing on.  Dick had driven Marinette out of her home.  This was his fault and he needed to be the one to fix it.  “Hey Alfred, where is everyone going?”

Alfred gave him a sympathetic look.  “I think you need to figure this one out on your own.”  Alfred watched Dick as his brow furrowed at the cryptic answer.  Dick mentally ran through the schedule of things the family had on the schedule. There weren’t many and he couldn’t think of any that were coming up.  “Isn’t there somewhere you were supposed to be?  Something you were supposed to make it back for?” Alfred prompted him.

Dick shook his head at the words.  There was no gala coming up, no special dinners that he had been informed of.  There wasn’t even a significant Justice League meeting he knew of.  The only important event he had was Marinette’s show and the birth of the twins.  But the due date was more than a month away and the show was next week.

Alfred sighed and looked past him.  “Master Damian, it is time to leave.”

“I’m here, Alfred,” Damian grumbled, shuffling into the room. “I don’t understand why I must go when Grayson doesn’t have to.  He’s the reason I have to go in the first place.” He gave Dick a glare as he passed him. “And they’re not even together anymore, so he gets out of it.”

Damian slammed the door as he left through it.  Dick’s eyes were glued on the door.  He dropped his bag and pulled out his phone silently praying he was wrong.  He pulled up his calendar.  He was not wrong.  Today was the show and it started in just over an hour.  God!  His brain hadn’t caught up with the real date.  He had been so busy he still thought it was last week.

He silently cursed as he rushed to his room to take a shower and pull on a suit.  He frowned at the suit.  It was a fine suit, but it wasn’t special.  It wasn’t one by Marinette.  Everything she made was amazing and he would have loved to represent her.  So a plain, old designer suit would have to do, with a bright blue tie, the color she said made her think of him.

He raced through the streets on his motorcycle, weaving in and out of traffic to get there faster.  Maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t wearing a suit from her after all, because with all the wind whipping his jacket and tie around, there was no way his suit was going to look good when he got there.

He jumped off his bike and rushed inside.  He approached the security officers at the door and realized he hadn’t thought this through.  He didn’t have a ticket.  He and Marinette hadn’t talked about logistics like whether he would need a ticket, before he had left.  She probably hadn’t set one aside for him after the fight either.  Which meant he had no way into the show.  He was going to miss Marinette’s show.

He groaned and ran his hands over his face and through his hair. She had been working on this for a full year.  She had put her blood, sweat, and tears into this event.  Literally.   All three, she literally put all three into the outfits.  And he was going to miss it.  He wasn’t going to be able to see all her hard work come to fruition.  Damn it!  This meant so much to her and he was missing it.  He couldn’t support her because of a fight that was his fault in the first place.

“Mr. Grayson?”  The tentative voice broke his downward spiral.

He looked up and shook his head, confused at the sight. “Teri?  What are you doing here?”

She chuckled lightly.  “It’s a Wayne Enterprises event, Mr. Grayson.  I’m security.” She looked over him analytically.  “Do you need a way in?”

Dick shot up.  “Yes! Yes, I do.  Can you get me in?”

Teri nodded and pushed his arm slightly to get him to move toward the door with her as she walked him past the security guards stationed there.  “Mr. Pennyworth said to tell you they have a seat for you in the front and not to dawdle. His words, not mine, sir.”

Dick sighed in relief.  “Thank you, Teri.  Thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I have an idea,” she smirked at him.  There was a shine in her eyes indicating she knew more than him. “I know how much it would devastate Miss. Dupain-Cheng if you weren’t there.”  Dick looked away quickly before she could see the change in his eyes.  He wasn’t so sure Marinette would be all that devastated.  “There you go, sir.”

Marinette walked on stage just as he slid into his seat between Damian and Alfred.  Polite applause sounded throughout the room with the exception of one loud, Jason sounding voice whooping in excitement.  Marinette giggled and shook her head to focus back on the task at hand. “Thank you everyone for that very enthusiastic greeting,” she smirked in their direction.  

“I wanted to start off by thanking Wayne Enterprises and especially Mr. Wayne and Mr. Drake for selecting me to work on this project with them. I’d also like to thank Mr. Fox for all of his brilliant work coming up with the fabrics I used for the show. Wayne Enterprises has put a lot of work and development into creating fabrics that are more than they seem, deceptively beautiful one might say.  

“Tonight, any light or color changes or shifts in rigidity you see in the clothes is entirely due to the fabric.  There are no special effects tonight, just special fabrics. We will have a press conference after the show where Messrs. Drake and Fox can elucidate the technology involved. I’m just here for the pretty. They’re here for the brains.”  She grinned at her own self-deprecating joke. “And without further ado, let’s start the show!”

She spun around and walked quickly behind the screen.  The first model walked out on stage and Dick was vaguely aware of gasps from the audience, but he didn’t notice the model. He was still staring at the spot where Marinette had disappeared.  Her hair was up in a bun and her dress was a blue and back, body skimming dress, both of which reminded him of the first night he met her.

She looked gorgeous, which wasn’t unexpected.  She always had been.  He thought maybe his mind had made her seem even more gorgeous while he was gone and missing her, but it wasn’t a trick of his mind, she was gorgeous and so much bigger than when he left.  He had only been gone two weeks and it seemed like her belly had grown more in the last two weeks than the two months before that.  Her dress skimmed over her bump, accentuating it.  She was in no way trying to hide the bump, as if she could, she was wearing it proudly and he wished he could hug her and rest his hands on it, maybe see if Robert and Lucy might kick his hands.  

He ran his hand through his hair again, further messing it up. He had missed so much.  Not just the last two weeks.  He’d missed so much of the twins developing because of his trips. And in this last one they’d gotten so much bigger.  How much more was he going to miss because of missions?

Another whoop drew his attention back to the runway.  He blinked a few times to make sure he really was seeing what he was seeing.  Stephanie was walking down the catwalk toward a black haired model who had just turned to return.  He stared at the two wondering how many models he had missed already.  When the black haired model got to the far end of the runway she turned around again and Dick finally saw her, Cassandra.  She smiled at the audience and did a standing backflip. As she moved, her dark blue jumpsuit flared with electricity.  He narrowed his eyes at it.  He gasped as he realized it was collecting energy from her movements.

His attention shifted back to Stephanie who had a proud grin, knowing the entire audience was amazed.  She made her way to the end of the runway in a gorgeous full body dress, a flame shot across the stage just before she reached it.  Stephanie, the chaos child she was, just grinned at the flame and continued to walk straight into it.  She stood in the fire’s flame for a few moments, letting the flame curl around her dress completely unaffected by the heat, before winking and turning back to return backstage.

As she walked back, she high fived the next model she passed. Dick chuckled as Duke swaggered his way down the runway with a sultry look on his face.  The lights at the end of the runway changed tone slightly to emulate sunlight.  As Duke approached the end of the runway, his shirt, or rather patterns in his shirt, started glowing.  The patterns got brighter the longer Duke stood under the sunlight.  Duke gave a cocky grin, knowing how impressive the outfit was and how good he looked in it before turning to walk back.

Halfway back, he fist bumped the next model, who Dick almost didn’t recognize as Rachel’s brother, Eddie.  Eddie didn’t have the swagger Duke had, but he held his own.  When he reached the end of the runway, he tugged on his jacket, changing the color of the jacket from black to blue.  He gave a smile to the audience and turned back to return.  About a quarter of the way back, he started running at the other model, who braced himself for Eddie to push off of into a flip over him.  He tugged on the jacket again mid-flip, exposing a new pattern in the jacket.

The new model turned back to the Audience with a confident, amused smile.  Dick huffed at how natural Adrien seemed on the runway and in a tuxedo.  By the time he made it to the end of the runway, someone had placed a candle at the end of the runway.  Adrien smirked and did a quick turn, whipping out the ends of his tuxedo coat.  As the coat spun, the ends turned hard and sliced cleanly through the candle.  When he turned back around, the ends of the coat fell fluidly around his back and bottom, all signs of rigidity gone.  

Adrien returned backstage and the models, Dick had clearly been staring after Marinette for a while because there were quite a few models he had missed in a variety of silhouettes, paraded out on stage for a final walk.  Adrien walked out last, arm in arm with Marinette who had an effervescent smile on her face as she waved to the audience.  Marinette suddenly looked around confused and yelled something to Stephanie, who was just going backstage.  Stephanie grinned and disappeared.  Less than a minute later, Stephanie was pushing Rachel out on stage as well.  Rachel looked out at the still applauding audience in awe until Marinette gave her a hug and guided her backstage with her.  

Before she had even made it backstage, Dick was moving to meet her. Barely noting the Wayne Enterprises employee announcing a press conference to discuss the innovations Marinette’s designs showcased starting in fifteen minutes.  So he had fifteen minutes to talk to Marinette.

He scanned the room and quickly found Marinette, at the center of the people, all congratulating her and celebrating, passing around champagne for the adults and water for Marinette and the minors.  He started to move towards her but paused.  This was her big moment.  This is everything she had been working towards for a year.  She was elated right now.  He didn’t want to ruin her moment by bringing his drama into it. She deserved this moment.  She deserved the elation.  He couldn’t take it away.  And they only had fifteen minutes, less now.  That wasn’t enough.  It would just bring the mood down without the time to bring it back up.

“Glad you could make it,” Lucius offered quietly, offering Dick a champagne flute.

“Thank you.  You did amazing work.  Those fabrics were brilliant,” Dick offered kindly, still staring at Marinette.

“Thank you.  I thought you might like the color scheme.  Blue, black, and grey.  Seemed like colors you would appreciate.”  He gave Dick a knowing smile.  

“She’s been working on this since before she met me and even if she hadn’t… she doesn’t know.”  Dick looked down embarrassed.  He didn’t want another conversation about why she didn’t’ know.

“The grey and black were there since before she met you, but the blue was more recent.”  Lucius turned toward Marinette.  “You never told her.”

Dick let out a deep sigh.  “The doctor said her pregnancy was risky.  She was supposed to reduce as much stress as possible.  I couldn’t… there was already so much stress from the show, I couldn’t add more to it.”  Even as he said the words he knew there was something wrong with them. Now that the mission was over, the words felt shallow, wrong.

Lucius silently studied Dick for a few moments while Dick pretended to focus on the chaos around them.  Finally, a look of realization settled in Lucius’ eyes.  “You know… being left behind, it leaves scars on a person, even if that was never the intent, even if that’s the last thing the person who left would ever want.  Watching them leave your life… it leaves a mark that sometimes never goes away.” Dick opened his mouth to object.  He was not leaving them behind.  Why did everyone think he would?  What did that say about him that everyone thought that he ever could?

Before he could say anything, Lucius continued. “Like watching your parents die in front of your eyes…” Dick snapped his mouth shut and stared at Lucius wide eyed.  “It leaves scars.  It makes you willing to go to extreme lengths to stop it from happening again.  It makes you need to stop it.  For some people that means putting on a bat costume and protecting a city.  For some people it means going out constantly to stamp out any potential threats.  And that need can be so strong, you can’t afford to let anyone stop you from doing so.” He paused to scan the room, his eyes settling on Marinette.  “Miss. Dupain-Cheng seems like the protective type.”

“She is,” Dick nodded numbly.

“The type that wouldn’t let someone she loves go out and risk their life recklessly for her.  The kind that would stop it.  Redirect the trauma.”  Dick stared at him dumbfounded.  “Are you sure by not telling her you’re protecting her, or are you preempting her, before she can talk you out of doing something you feel like you need to do?”

“No, that’s not…  There was a big plot.  The Court of Owls was planning a coordinated attack against the power grid in a few cities. The attack would have taken down the Eastern seaboard and a good portion of the Midwest.  I had to stop it.  I couldn’t… I couldn’t let her get hurt.”

Lucius nodded along with his words, contemplating what he said.  After a few minutes he spoke up again.  “You know, the hardest fabric to develop was the one with variable rigidity.  I couldn’t get the link to break.  Forming the bond was easy, but breaking it… impossible. The theory was there but I couldn’t get it to work.  I spent weeks maybe months focusing on nothing but getting that to work.”

Dick furrowed his brow at him, completely uncertain where the apparent non-sequitur was going.  “But you figured it out.”

“I did.”  He nodded in confirmation.  “And then Tim informed me we might not be able to use Stephanie’s design or the one before hers, maybe a few others.”

Dick shook his head in surprise.  “But that was brilliant.  That design was amazing.  It was my favorite, honestly… don’t tell my siblings that.”

Lucius chuckled.  “Your secret’s safe with me.” He suddenly turned serious again.  “There was a problem with production on the insulation fabrics, both the fire and ice insulators.  I spent so much time and focus on getting the variable rigidity working, I completely missed that production was falling apart.  That’s a problem I have sometimes, you know?  I hyper focus on one important thing and miss all the other the important things, even when they’re more important.  Could have destroyed the entire show.”

Dick blinked at him a few times.  He opened his mouth to respond, with what, he wasn’t sure, but luckily he was saved at the last second.  “Dick!”

Dick was ripped out of his confused haze by the sound of a familiar voice calling his name.  When he finally located the source he gave her a strained smile.  “Rachel.  Great job with the collection.”

“Oh, I didn’t do much of anything.  Marinette did all the work, and Lucius of course,” she deferred shyly.

Lucius smiled at her graciously.  “I know the most impressive part was done by Marinette. Finding a way to show all the innovations in their best light.  Her creativity is astounding.”

“I know Marinette found your insights very valuable, Rachel.  Just take the compliment,” Dick smiled at her.

“Yo!  Mr. Grayson,” Eddie called out to him, shaking his hand.

“Eddie.  You looked great up there.  A natural model,” Dick smiled at him.

Eddie blushed and looked away.  “It was okay.  Glad I could help.”

“Good flip up there too.  I bet you could have a good future as an action model if you wanted. You should talk to Adrien about it,” Dick encouraged him.

“Do you think he’d talk to me?” Eddie asked excitedly.

“I know he would absolutely love to help someone trying to break into the business.  I can… um…” he hesitated considering whether he would be the best intermediary between Eddie and Adrien.  “Or you can go up to him now.  He’ll be thrilled, honestly.”

Eddie looked around until he spotted Adrien.  “Yeah, maybe…” his phone started ringing.  He pulled it out.  He gave a confused expression before turning to the group with an apologetic smile.  “Just a second.”  He stepped away to take the call, returning a moment later.  His expression had turned to a concerned one.  “Rachel, we have to go now.  That was Mrs. Greene, there’s something going on back home.”

“I can take you,” Lucius offered.

“The press conference will start in one minute if you will all make your way to the next room,” the Wayne Enterprises employee announced loudly.

Dick shook his head.  “No, you have to do the conference.  I can take them… If I can borrow your car.  I just have my bike.”

“No scratches, Mr. Grayson,” Lucius warned him playfully, holding up the keys for him.

Dick gave him a charming, devious smile.  “Understood.  I’ll pull it around while you change, Eddie.  And Lucius?”

“Yes Mr. Grayson?”

“Can you let Marinette know I was here and why I had to leave, please?” He asked softly.

“Gladly, Mr. Grayson.”  He gave him a supportive smile and turned to join the others.

<><><><><> 

Dick closed the door to his apartment slowly.  What the hell had he just witnessed?  Kora’s restaurant had been attacked and the police spent the entire time he was there accusing Eddie of trying to help his parents by doing it for the insurance money, even though the evidence was extremely clear it wasn’t an inside job and Eddie had an alibi.  The officers then got mad at Dick when he started taking pictures to give some additional documentation of the incident for Kora to submit with her insurance claim.  One officer threatened to arrest him if he continued to interfere with their investigation.  What the hell was going on?

“Hey Daddy Dearest.  Heard you were back in town.  Missed you at the show,” Stephanie called to him from her perch on the kitchen counter.

“I was there,” Dick grumbled.  It had been a long day and he needed to figure a few things out, preferably alone.  “Sat with the family and everything.  Your dress was amazing.”

“I know.  You didn’t say hi to Marinette,” she observed a little too casually.

“I didn’t want to ruin her big moment.  I was waiting until after, but then I had to take Rachel and Eddie home.  Someone attacked the restaurant.  Then there was a whole… the police were trying to pin it on Eddie,” he explained, incredulity sneaking into his tone.

She quirked her head to the side considering his words. Finally, she gave a resolute nod. “We can investigate then. Probably a mob hit or a cop.”

Dick sighed dejectedly.  ��Are they really that corrupt?”  He already knew the answer but he was hoping maybe she might have some words of insight or hope.

Instead, she started laughing.  No words of hope then.  “Duh!  Where have you been?  Yeah,” she tried to settle herself but the laughter escaped again for another few minutes. When she was finally able to control her laughter at his obliviousness, she turned her expression to more contemplative.  “So, you’re going to talk to Marinette?”

“Yeah.  See if I can fix this.  If it even can be fixed.”  He scrubbed his face with his hands again.  “I’m not so sure anymore.  Maybe I’ve broken it beyond repair.  Now that the mission is over, I can finally focus on her.”

Stephanie let out a long breath through her nose. “So… the mission’s over?”

“The mission is over,” he repeated, the relief he felt evident in his voice and body.  As soon as he said the words his body relaxed and he slumped against the counter.

“When does the next one start?” she asked innocently.

He scrunched his face in confusion.  Was there something going on he hadn’t heard about? “What next one?”

She rolled her eyes and let out a long suffering, exasperated sigh.  “There is always a next one, Dick.  There’s always another mission that demands your attention and takes you away for indefinite amounts of time.  As long as you’re the leader of the Titans, that’s not going to change.  So how long are you going to stay this time?”

“I’m…” he started.  She was right.  Even after the twins were born, there would be a next mission, a next trip he would have to go on and he would miss them growing up while he was in some shady motel or safe house on the other side of the planet.  Was that what he wanted?

She jumped down off of the counter.  “You think about it.  I just stopped by to drop off a present from Lucius.  I left it on your couch, although if you felt willing to part with it later, it’d make a great present for your sister.”  She pulled him into a tight hug.  “Bye, Dick.”

Dick nodded absentmindedly to her.  “Yeah, bye, Steph.”  His mind was already working on something else.  How long of a break was he going to take?  Would he be able to take a break?  Or was something else going to come up?  He stared absently at the counter.  What was it she said?  90% of parenting is just being there?  And he wasn’t.  He couldn’t. And he had been miserable the past few months.  Every time he’d had to leave for the Titans, he’d been miserable.  

She stopped in the doorway and turned back to him.  “For what it’s worth, she still loves you. She’s hurt and confused and scared and mad, justifiably, but she loved you and that hasn’t gone away.  I don’t know if you can fix it.  It depends on your priorities and your actions.  Something will have to change.  And if not… you know, sometimes people just work out better as friends.”  She gave him a wan smile and left.

He groaned in frustration and went to collapse on the couch so he could better wallow in his misery.  He was the worst human on the planet.  He picked up one of the pillows to cover his face.  Maybe if he was lucky, Lucius had created a special Wayne Enterprises suffocation material and this pillow was made out of it so he would be put out of his misery.  After a few seconds of still being able to breathe, he groaned.  Nothing was going his way.  He took the pillow off his face and tucked it behind his head, catching on something.  He reached back and grabbed it to get a look at it.

He sat up to examine it.  It was Stephanie’s dress.  Dick huffed out a laugh at the incredibly unsubtle hint.  It was the dress that almost didn’t make it into the show, the show that almost didn’t happen because Lucius had been too focused on other things, too focused on protecting Marinette to truly consider her.  Fucking fuck!  Lucius was right and Dick hadn’t seen it.  He was so scared to lose Marinette, he pushed her away.  Jason had been right and he hadn’t seen it.

He needed to fix it now, before he lost her forever. If she had sent the ticket, it meant she wasn’t gone yet.  She was still willing to try, if not for a relationship, at least as friends.  But Stephanie was right, there would always be another mission.  Was he willing to miss his kids developing and growing like he had so far?  The short answer was no.  He wasn’t willing to keep missing their lives.  He couldn’t be the full time Titans leader, and a full time vigilante, and a full time father.  Something needed to give and it couldn’t be his family.

He could step back being a vigilante, only patrol occasionally or when something big happened and he could step away from the Titans, Donna could lead better than him anyway.  That would keep him in Gotham full time, but he needed to figure out a job, one that allowed him to stay local and still protect people.  He did not want to give that up if he could help it. He’d spent the last more than a decade fighting villains and corruption.  He didn’t want to stop now.

He picked up his phone and tapped it against his lips absentmindedly for a few minutes.  Finally he gave a determined nod and sent Marinette a text.  ‘The show was amazing.  Can we talk tomorrow?  I want to tell you everything.’  That sent, he scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he wanted.  After a few rings, a disgruntled voice answered.  “What do you want, Grayson?”

“Commissioner Gordon?  I wanted to talk to you about my future.  Can I come over?”

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95 @jayjayspixiepop

[dazzlingstarlight]

25 words for Jubal Valentine

Hi everyone, thanks for sending so many words! Thank you to the anon who asked for some Jubal sentences – all of these 25 words are for Jubal and I hope you like them!

1. Talents

Jubal is surprised when the new SAC asks about his team, and he tells her that Maggie and OA are great partners and Kristen is a highly talented analyst, and Dana stares at him thoughtfully for a long moment before she nods and says, “Okay then, let’s get to work.”

2. Experience

A year later, Jubal repeats the experience with another new SAC, but this time he tells Isobel that Maggie and OA are rock solid together, and while Kristen is green in the field, he has no doubt that she’ll learn fast from her new partner Scola.

3. Hug

It wasn’t an easy search, but it’s a happy reunion when Maggie and OA finally bring two missing children back to 26 Fed, and their parents squeeze them as tightly as they can through tears of joy and relief, and Jubal decides that maybe he should stop by and see his kids tonight and make sure to hug them tight.

4. Enough

There are two suspect photos posted on the screen in the JOC, and Jubal looks over Ian’s shoulder as he combs through their financials, and when he finds a series of simultaneous deposits into each one’s bank account, Jubal gives Ian an approving clap on the shoulder and tells him to call Maggie and OA because it’s enough to bring them in.

5. Secure

Ian is having trouble downloading some security footage and he’s a little surprised when Jubal asks if there’s a secure server with double firewalls and triple encryption, and then Jubal gives him a smug grin and says, “What, you think I don’t pick up any of this stuff from hanging around you guys in the JOC?”

6. Ring

Maggie and OA have been chasing a drug smuggling ring for a couple of weeks, and they think it might help to put someone on the inside, and Jubal tells them he knows a guy and when they ask where they can find him, Jubal says it’s one of his old aliases, so they’re already looking at him.

7. Please

Jubal adjusts the camera and the wire hidden in his shirt, and he hears Scola confirm that the audio and video are loud and clear, and OA asks if he’s ready for this, and Jubal scoffs a little and says, “Please, boys, let me show you once again why the ladies call me Mr. Valentine.”

8. Distraction

Jubal is calm and confident – and maybe even a bit cocky – as he strolls up to the front door, sporting an expensive designer suit with two beautiful women hanging attentively on each arm, and the two guards that block the door can’t take their eyes off Maggie and Kristen which creates just enough of a distraction to let OA and Scola knock them out from behind.

9. Longing

Sometimes when he and Sam are cheering on the bleachers at his son’s soccer games, Jubal thinks that they look like a normal, happy family – and then he thinks that maybe he’s longing for something that just isn’t there anymore.

10. Helpless

As FBI agents, they’re committed to helping people every day, but when it’s one of their own lying in a hospital bed, Jubal hates the way he feels so helpless, and he keeps snapping the elastic band around his hand again and again and again.

11. Affection

Jubal has had just about enough of the CIA agent chattering in his ear, telling him why he can’t send his field agents barging into a suspect’s home, and he finally faces the man and growls enough to make him back off a little: “Okay, sir, I realize there’s never been a whole lot of affection between the FBI and the CIA, but you’re on FBI turf now, and that means we do it our way.”

12. Bond

The elderly man sitting in interrogation has refused to talk for a good hour, and Jubal knows they’re losing valuable time, so he tries a new approach in a gentler tone: “Mr. Carson, I know you don’t want to betray your son because I have a son of my own and I know there’s a bond between a father and his son that shouldn’t ever be broken, but we need your help.”

13. Trust

Mr. Carson’s eyes are glistening with tears, and he shakes his head hopelessly, mumbling over and over that he just doesn’t want his son to get hurt, and Jubal kneels next to him and says, “Sir, I understand that, and that’s why you have to trust that we’ll do everything we can to get your son home safely.”

14. Pair

Whenever Jess LaCroix’s team rolls into town, Jess and Jubal always make an interesting pair as Jess follows his hunches and Jubal follows his facts and somehow they both manage to put the criminal behind bars and get the job done.

15. Reaction

Jubal isn’t sure how Scola is going to react to another partner – Tiffany is the third partner for him in less than a year, now that Kristen has moved on and Emily was only temporary – but he introduces her anyway and Scola is his usual self, shaking her hand and saying “looking forward to working with you” and then getting right back to work again.

16. Anger

It’s the alcohol that made him angry then, when he spent every night so wasted that he couldn’t even stand on his own two feet, and it’s still the alcohol that makes him angry now, for how much he hurt himself and his career and his family.

17. Sweat

When Jubal tries to remember his relationship – or rather, his affair – with Rina, he’s ashamed to admit that all he can remember is a few steamy, sweaty nights in bed – and the strong stench of alcohol.

18. Addiction

While Jubal has worked hard to overcome his addiction, he’s always wary of the little things that make it all too easy to remember the way he used to be, the cases that he should have worked harder on, the cases that he should have been sober for – and the cases where the victims struggled with their own substance abuse and he couldn’t do anything to help them.

19. Beginning

That’s why Jubal is proud to become a sponsor – to be there for someone else from the very beginning – because he’s been through it all and he knows how hard it is to explain to someone who hasn’t, and because he doesn’t want anyone else to make the same choices and he wants to give someone else a second chance.

20. Break

Isobel gives him a disapproving look, and Jubal knows the sting he’s proposing is risky, but he has faith in his field agents’ skill and his analysts’ intel, so when Isobel tells him that the ADIC will make their lives very difficult if things go wrong, Jubal just shakes his head and tells her that this team isn’t going to break.

21. Training

Jubal has been negotiating a hostage situation for hours and when it escalates to the point where there’s imminent danger to the civilians, he makes the hard call to take the shot, and he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh because no training can ever really prepare an agent for endings like this.

22. Bed

His daughter’s grip around his neck is cutting off his air supply, but Jubal can’t complain too much because she’s just so excited to see her father, and he sets her down and tells her to go put on her pajamas, and even though it feels awkward, Jubal still tells Sam thank you for letting him tuck his kids into bed that night.

23. Grief

When Jubal just happens to know a strip club on the East Side because he walks by it on his way to the subway, he doesn’t miss the smirk that Kelly and Elise share and he wonders how much grief they would give him if they knew he accidentally bumped into a woman on the street outside of the club and he’s thinking about asking her out for coffee…maybe.

24. Help

When OA tells Jubal that Maggie will be gone for a few days because she’s getting her sister settled in at the rehab center, Jubal is more than understanding and privately he wishes that someone like Maggie had gotten him that kind of help before it was too late for his own addiction.

25. Morning

Scola and Tiffany fall into the easy routine of bringing morning coffee and pastries to the JOC, and Jubal is grateful to them for fueling his crew because there’s always another new case, and he calls “eyes up!” so their focus is on the screen, and then it’s time to go to work again.

[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Part 5

Wooo lemon ahead. And backstory, SO MUCH BACKSTORY. And understanding. Again, many thanks to @kriskukko​ for indulging my regency era orc fantasy. Many thanks to @punkhorse96​ for all your amazing feedback. It’s time for more of that zesty lemony good good. lol. Enjoy. 

Blood For Gold 

Part 5

But life had other plans. Demsey then found himself absolutely swamped with work. Between shipments arriving wrong or late and to make things worse, his nagging guilt concerning you seemed to eat away at him and what little sleep he did get was plagued by dreams of you, your face on Audra Draft’s body and losing himself completely in you. 

It was the day before the ball at Havenfield and Demsey felt if he did not find some relief from these frustrations, he was going to internally combust. 

Meanwhile your own life became a little hectic as well. Agnes and Jane came by nearly every day to deliver directions and advice- basically it was how to be a lady in high society lessons, made sure you could dance all the dances, make sure you minded your manners and made sure that it was practically drilled into you what was “acceptable” and what was “unacceptable” behavior. It was so much you wanted to just scream and by now, your staff knew to give you a proper feast right before bed after Jane and Agnes left so that at least you didn’t go to bed hungry but you had another hunger that could not be satisfied no matter how many times you tried to satisfy it yourself. 

The day before the ball at Havenfeild, you managed to shirk Agnes and Jane and insisted that you needed the day to yourself so that you could prepare, and do an elaborate beauty treatment, which was a half truth. But the beauty treatment could be done within about an hour or two. Not necessarily all day but you didn’t want to admit that to them. 

Instead you dressed in one of your more seductive dresses in the moura style instead of the regency, had Malcom take you back to The Red Velvet Rope, drop you off, take the carriage around the parks so that it appeared you were taking a tour of the parks instead of getting a good rutting and you were willing to spend at least fifty pounds if it meant you could have Draft all to yourself, for about an hour or so. You wanted to be made love to- in every way possible in every position you could think of and you wanted to actually feast on real food along with feasting on Mr. Draft too. 

“Welcome back Lass, what will it be for you today?” Annie greeted with a grin as she readily handed you a gold mask which you eagerly put on. 

“Is it possible to get Mr. Draft for say, an hour? And do you have any food you can serve up there? Because I’m hungering in more ways than one.” You asked hopefully. 

“Oh of course Love, here’s a menu.” She offered as you took the menu and read it over, the English side of the menu left you leaving your nose crinkled until you turned it over and read the back and your eyes lit up and a smile bloomed on your face when you recognized an actual moura menu from almost every moura court back in the stables which you happily ordered off of. 

“Then you’ll be needing a proper suite that has a table in it eat off of. You’ll need suite 23. I’ll be sending Draft up to you when he’s done with his current guest.” She assured you as you happily paid Annie for not just the suite and Draft, but dinner too. 

“Thank you.” You practically sang as she unlatched the thick velvet rope and you practically ran up the stairs to your room on the second floor this time. 

Meanwhile Demsey had also come into the gentlemen’s side of the building and strode right over to the second desk to see Maria there. 

“Good evening Sir, what can I do for you?” She asked. 

“I would like a rut with Audra again, if she’s available, perhaps for a little longer than last time.” He answered. 

“Aye, Audrey is with a client at the moment, but she’ll be ready in just a little bit, if you’re wanting a longer time for her, might I suggest a proper suite then? Less likely you’ll be disturbed.” She offered. 

“Perfect.” Demsey nodded. 

“Room 24 then, on the second floor,” she informed him before Demsey paid for Audra and the suite before ascending the steps and once he got to the second floor and into the hallway, he caught sight of Audra practically marching down the hallway and his own smile bloomed brightly. “Oh please tell me you’re here to see me Demsey.” You purred as you outright strutted and sauntered your way up to him. 

“Why else would I come? I couldn’t stay away.” Demsey grinned.

“Good, I hope you’re hungry, I have a feast ordered for us, a proper moura one too, and I hope you’ll eat it as well as you will me.” You purred as you took his hand and led him to room 23 as Demsey was powerless to resist and was liable to agree to anything, even his own birthrights the way Audra purred her desires at him, if she asked for his company in that tone, he would happily hand it over and the second the door was closed and the little ‘do not disturb, except for food’ pillows were hung on the door handle. You took off your coat to reveal one of the sexiest dresses you owned and it had Demsey’s jaw on the floor. He was used to seeing black lace, but not a dress made up of nothing of, beautifully sheer black lace where next to nothing was left up to the imagination and your gold moura marks on your skin underneath, glowing and pulsing, was utterly hypnotizing again. 

“Do you like it?” You asked as you struck a pose for him before you twirled in place for him. 

“Very much so,” Demsey readily agreed as his gaze devoured you first before his hands found their way to you and pulled you to himself so he could finally kiss you as your own hands made quick work of his clothes. 

“So many clothes and layers to get through, you sure do make me work to get at you Demsey but by the gods are you ever worth it.” You praised and Demsey fought not to literally tear his actual clothes off because nothing that anyone had ever said to him made him feel more powerful or desired as he readily figured out how to undress you, surprised when it was just a simple dress with structure for your bosom but you were not wearing a thing under it and the way you were walking him towards the bed, pieces of his own attire being tossed aside the moment they were loosed from his frame until you had bared him completely as he kicked his own boots and trousers off as you laid back on the bed. 

“Now, eat my cunny like it’s your last meal.” You ordered as you propped yourself up on your elbows with your legs open wide in invitation and Demsey didn’t need to be told twice. Granted he hadn’t really eaten a woman’s cunny...ever. But he was willing to try and willing to make a good go of it as he happily laid down on his stomach, with his head between your legs and tried to go to work and the way your thighs came to rest on his shoulders and the way your hands clawed into his hair and scalp and the way his name came off your lips like a dreamy sigh as he tried adding his fingers to the mix, to see if that would work also, had him feeling happy and relieved when that seemed to help and was what you wanted and needed from him. 

You were practically writhing, moaning and keening desperately as your pelvis bucked and grinded in his face, needing more contact as you also guided him and his movements until he seemed to finally learn you and put it all together and found just the right touch, with the right pressure, the right movements, not too fast or too hard, the right suction on your nub and using his fingers to curl and press at something that felt like a soft..walnut shell on the inside of your canal and watched as your moura marks continued to pulse faster and brighter as you were pulling on his hair so tight, he almost feared you would scalp him but the taste of your cunny was addictive, slightly odd at first, but the more he “ate” the more hungry he became and the thirstier he got for your sweet nectar that flowed from it as he was surprised how quickly he acquired a taste for it and how much it fueled his own desire and especially to hear you say his name like it was your greatest desire and want, only spurned him onward as he ground his own erection that wept almost pitifully into the blankets on the bed as it seemed to want a piece of it too and when you finally came, your canal practically gushing into his mouth as he greedily sucked it down while your moura marks lit up and stayed alight while you rode out your orgasm on his face as your legs kicked out as your thighs squeezed his head so tight he felt dizzy, but he could die happy before your whole body laxed as the light in your gold moura marks faded. 

“Wow.” You breathed as you fought to catch your breath as you basked in the afterglow as Demsey gave your cunny one last long lick before you pushed his forehead down and away. 

“Easy, I’m over sensitive now.” You pleaded. 

“Good?” Demsey asked as he licked his chops. 

“Very good.” You praised as it had been literal years since the last time you were eaten so enthusiastically, you were at the stables still and having a friend’s brother do that for you from time to time just to keep you pleasant since oral sex was allowed between non married moura partners and it was a good way to keep moura brides satisfied while keeping them “pure” for their future husbands and it wasn’t unusual for a moura gentlemen to have several women he “serviced” in addition to his work, in fact there were special breaks for it during the work day. And since mouras had a unique gift in that they never got sick. In fact the only things to ever kill a moura before and after the plague was a broken heart and old age, they could even drink literal poison and it would act like alcohol to them. They were immune to every other disease and didn’t get any sexually transmitted disease and often laying with one could cure you if you already had one while they remained unharmed as long as feelings and attachments weren’t involved, you could theoretically give and receive as much oral and even anal sex as you wanted. In fact it was usually a skill most moura brides could pride themselves on in giving a good suck and often worked quite hard on suppressing their own gag reflex so they could please their future husbands well, which was made easier by a very stretchy throat, a bygone gift from the evolution of the species having a croup no matter their form, there was even a small airway that connected the nose straight to the lungs, like a glottis on a snake, so she could keep breathing while sucking off a cock, or even eating and it also meant the throat was simply extra stretchy, letting moura brides take a cock of just about any size deep into their throats to almost their stomachs, and also to accommodate a mate of any size or species, most moura womanly canals were super stretchy too to accommodate whatever she needed to and large wombs to carry babies of most sizes and their pelvis could unhinge like a snake’s jaw to give birth easier. There were even special muscles in a moura’s abdomen to help carry a child better and birth easier. There was even a class on how to be good in bed that was taught right before a bride would leave, although most of it, she could figure out herself well before then. 

Demsey happily gathered you into his arms and was content to hold you while you recovered. 

“Ok, your turn.” You decided after you recovered enough. 

“My turn for what?” Demsey asked as you pushed him to lay back on the bed as his cock was still hard enough to drill through a wall of bricks as you simply giggled and settled yourself down and started to lick and sucked on the tip while giving him a hungry sultry look. 

“Oh,” Demsey breathed as he suddenly realized what you were getting at as he laid there and watched as your mouth lowered down as you started sucking him off enthusiastically before he couldn’t help but reach up and grasp your face reverently, running hands down your haw and your neck and shoulders.

“Scratch my back would you Love?” You requested as you popped off to ask that before you went back to sucking. Gods in the heavens above and in the waters below, was he delicious. Fresh and clean yet his precum was heady but addictive. 

Demsey readily scratched your back as he fought to keep his eyes open and then to feel you settle in his lap, your breasts squished against his balls as your arms laid over his thighs while your hands dug in between his cheeks and the mattress to get good handfuls of it to anchor you before you moved down so that his cock was aimed rather straight down before you opened your jaw and aligned him just right as you put your weight on your knees while your rear rose high in the air and then used your knees to power your body forward to take all of his glorious cock down your throat causing Demsey to nearly yell in surprise, because nothing like that had ever been done to him before and he was left to sit there and stare in astonishment. 

“Are..are you ok? Can you even breathe?” He asked worriedly but could feel your noiseless giggling breath from your nose into his own forest of hair around his cock as you nodded yes as Demsney’s eyes nearly rolled back to feel his cock rub so gloriously in your throat as you triggered your swallowing muscles to swallow around him, as humans had a muscle on the back of their trachea to assist in swallowing, mouras had muscles on every side of theirs and that nearly undid him before you started sucking him down until your lips were firmly around the base, his dark hair tickling the tip of your nose as it buried itself in it as you inhaled deeply his heady scent as your throat continued to swallow and slowly flutter down his cock as it was his turn to gasp and moan and keen and growl ever so deliciously as his finger tips threatened to claw at your own back because he didn’t want to leave any marks as he realized, this was why moura harlots were so expensive, because they could do this, because most could never do this and continue to breathe but mouras could. This was one of the greatest pleasures of his life as a series of praises sprinkled with words of profanity began to fall from his mouth along with chanting your own name as you continued to suck away before one of your hands went to his ball sack and started to fondle them and stroke them and scratch at them ever so amazingly before you reached into him to try to find his prostate to massage that and that finally undid him as he couldn’t help but cry out desperately as he emptied himself down your throat while you smiled in satisfaction around him as you rolled your head from side to side with your chest so that his cock twisted inside you as Demsey’s whole body shuddered and shivered. 

“Please, I beg for mercy, it’s too much.” Demsey whimpered just as there was a knock on the door. 

“I have the moura Sultan’s feast?” Came a masculine voice as he opened the door just as you got back on your knees and slowly pulled your head out of Demsey’s lap as his softening cock now gently bended as it slipped out like a dead snake before it plopped onto the bed as Demsey laid there and basked in his own afterglow as the real Draft and Audrey lowkey watched on curiously as they were both impressed by the feat, but also in awe of your moura marks. Since neither of them had ever seen anything as grand as yours. You must be a moura straight from the colonies or more likely, the stables. 

“Thank you.” You happily thanked him as you took one of the robes hanging off a nearby dressing curtain and wrapped it around yourself as you adjusted your gold mask as both of them realized you were both wearing gold masks. You were both clients while they were in black silk masks as Audrey and Draft gave each other a meaningful look before they took your generous tips with grace and then quickly left again. 

“You still alive my Dear Demsey?” You cooed as you seated yourself at the table and began to fix your plate how you wanted. 

“What?” He managed to ask as he just now managed to peak an eye open to see you sitting pretty, looking like a dish yourself at the table. 

“Do you have no appetite?” You asked as you looked over your shoulder at him with a grin. 

“Oh I do, I just...men only have three hungers, one for food, one for release and one for sleep and you have managed to somehow make the one far more grand and important than the others.” He praised as he barely managed to gather himself together and get up and managed to get one of the larger robes and put it around himself and walk rather unsteadily towards the table. 

“So what is all this then?” He asked.

“Oh you poor thing, does no one order for you a proper Moura Sultan feast? Or is it too unpatriotic for an Englishmen to eat any other food that is common here?” You asked before you went around the table as you told him about each dish as he eagerly tried each thing, an explosion of flavors blooming on his tongue. 

“It’s actually this, that is the reasons moura are on earth and it is because of this that mouras are still alive.” You noted as you held up a hunk of turkish delight. 

“Turkish delight?” Demsey asked as he took it and ate it, although it was one of the most amazing confections. 

“Has your mother never told you of our history?” You asked as Demsey nodded no. The only history Demsey really knew was of his own orcish and English heritage but you clearly frowned underneath that beautiful gold silk mask. 

“To be so divorced from our history. Ok, so five millenia ago, it was the surface dwellers, making delicious foods, with fires that had smoke traveling oh so high with the scent of roasting meat and spices going up even to the heavens. Before then, mouras only associated with angles, since they were the closest neighbors. But it was food, rich spices, meats and fats and sweets and breads and it was the creation of delicious foods that tempted the first mouras down to the surface, first as angles, then as humans when some were too frightened of their angel form.” You began as Demsey happily sat and continued to eat and listen to you attentively. 

“But alas, no one ever gives something away for free what they worked so hard on themselves. And in an effort to find something that the surface dwellers would take in exchange for that delicious food, the heavenly moura picked up the rocks at their feet, used the very sunshine that gave them everything they needed, warmth, sustenance, life- and turned it into gold in exchange. But while that worked for a time and more and more mouras changed into their human form to walk amongst the surface dwellers, trying everything they could get their hands on, most of the time traveling in flocks, crashing weddings and festivals, gifting pure gold in exchange for a seat at the feasting tables, which their hosts happily accepted, using their moura cloaks to mimic whatever clothes they saw and even invented new styles of clothes for themselves out of it for a moura was both their clothing and their wings or simply a feathered cloak.” You explained as you gestured to the gold peacock feathers on your own skin. 

“But it did not last too long, for all the gold they gave soon incited The Great Danger, where surface dwellers cooked elaborate feasts, threw false weddings and festivals, and the purpose was to set a trap for as many mouras as possible so that all of them could turn mounds of stone and rubble and especially bricks of mud into gold and only when the mouras turned their own body weight in gold, were they released. And it is that gold that was the seed for every great king, emperor, czar, cesar and pharaoh came into power, because they employed the golden rule- whoever has the gold- makes the rules.” You divulged as Demsey’s eyes got wide in realization, because he had heard versions of this story as legends. But they were always from the ‘I captured a moura as a bride and now I’m king’ kind of legends. But to hear it from the moura’s point of view, was almost heartbreaking. 

“In answer- mouras divided themselves into two kingdoms, one- was against any moura from ever touching the surface of the planet ever again. The other, more tolerant simply set up rules in place for going to the surface but both kingdoms decided to gain a good defense. That is when mouras domesticated phoenixes and bred themselves to them since mouras used to be shapeshifters, having three forms, a human, an angel or a bird of their choice, including a pheonix. And thanks to breeding with the phoenixes, gained the phoenixes powers of spewing fire and rising from the ashes, and thus gained a small measure of immortality and turned a life span of two hundred years to up a lifespan of over 500 years, as long as they were rebirthed in the ashes, even though they were immune to phoenix and dragonfire already, if they chose to be reborn in the ashes, they can choose how hot the flames can be to be reborn. The hotter the quicker the burn, and the more painful but the lower the temperature, the longer it takes, so it’s a matter of slow and low or high and fast.” You explained. 

“Have you ever done it? Being reborn in the ashes?” Demsey asked. 

“No, such things were lost in the plague. You see, do you remember the stories of gold raining down from heaven? It happened roughly a hundred and sixty seven years ago but the plague started twenty years before then. It happened with the birth of a prince in the high heavenly moura kingdom. All moura babies are born with a gold moura mark at the base of the skull, within the first year, a feather cloak, the moura cloak grows from it, and it looks like a blanket made of feathers. A selkie has a seal skin, a moura had a moura cloak. And with it- all of the moura powers. Powers to heal every affliction, powers to live hundreds of years, powers to turn whatever they wanted into gold, all powered by soaking up the sunshine. But what happened was Prince Theonore, his cloak never did grow, but instead the gold feathers appeared right on his skin. He could not fly, he could not change, he had no powers at all and as the feathers bloomed on his skin, the heavier he became, and the harder it was for him to breathe. Because the air is much, much thinner in the heavens than it is on the surface. There was no altitude above or below the clouds that he could breathe at. Not until there was on place for him except for in a moura colony in the mountains, and even there, he had a hard team breathing. It wasn’t until he came to the low valleys that he could breathe with ease. After that all babies born stopped growing cloaks, stopped being able to fly or have any of the moura gifts, the colonies and the stables were invaded by droves of anxious heavenly moura parents, eager to care for their children who could not stay in the clouds with them because heavenly moura had built fantastic palaces in the clouds, from the outside, it just looked like a cloud, on the inside though, every inch was covered in luxury. Diamonds embezzling most of the surfaces that weren’t otherwise gold, silver or white marble. But the phenomenon didn’t stop there, once the heavenly moura came down, the colony moura’s children and the stable moura children also followed suit. It was like something was in the air. Like dust on the wind, it traveled the world, soon every moura who had the potential of having a cloak, it was all replaced with these marks on their skin. But if it had simply stopped there, it would have been fair, but no.” You shook your head as you could still hear your grandparent’s voice tell you these harrowing stories of their youth. 

“At the time, every summer solstice and winter solstice, all mouras who were able, took flight, in the summer, they would follow the sun around the world. In the winter- they followed the moon. And between 18-20 summers and winters, all mouras able, took their first flight. The Prince, had to spend years building up his strength and ability to breathe the thinner air that is above the clouds. There was a special carriage built for him so that his subjects might fly him on his first flight. For it is only after the first flight, that he has to lead that shows he is a qualified ruling moura. But the moment he was hoisted above the clouds, the atmosphere was so thin, that he could not breathe, but worse, the moment the sun shone on him, his gold moura feathers instantly turned black and began to burn him and within moments he dissolved like ash, the black particles dissolving off of him and the particles were then taken with a stiff wind to all the mouras behind him. And the particles killed all the heavenly moura upon contact, and it turned them into gold dust which then collected in the clouds. The mountain moura saw this and dove for the ground but the moment the dust touched them, it started to turn their own wings to pure gold and suddenly countless moura plummeted to the ground and it was only the angels who dove after them to keep them from colliding with the surface but once on the ground, all the moura had to lay down with their wings to the earth because trying to get up would snap their spines because a moura’s wings and an angel’s wings were the same size, but instead of light feathers, sinewy muscles and hollowed out bones to help with bearing the weight of them, to be suddenly so heavy and solid gold, was too much. It took almost every angel in heaven to find a cure. A special spell in a special liquid that looked like electrum that was drank and once it was drunk the wings could be changed back to flesh and blood and bone, they could be drawn into the body again, but with it, nothing a moura ever touched would be turned into gold ever again but in order for all the mouras to be saved from the plague, it was given to all. Those whose wings had been out could draw them back in but never out again, instead, the golden feathers then spread to their skin too and with it, their hair turned golden blonde, and their eyes golden yellow and it was the golden feathers that replaced the real moura marks that used to light up and glow around each moura like the northern lights around the world. After that, with no heavenly moura to maintain their castles and estates in the clouds, they all slowly reverted back to clouds and heavenly moura have become only a memory for some and a fable for others. And then clouds scattered the gold dust all over the world with the rains which was in reality, the golden dust ash of countless heavenly moura. After that, all heavenly moura had two options, go into a colony where neither king nor class exists, where you have to fend for yourself and be completely self sufficient and learn how to take care of themselves but where your genetics didn’t matter, who you were as a person did, and you could marry for love for there was no other reason to marry or go into the stables, where there still was a class system, with servants and palaces and estates and hierarchy and royalty and prestige. I’ll let you guess where a majority of the heavenly moura decided to reside.” You hinted at with a grin. 

“But over time, the golden feathers have become fewer and fewer with every generation away from “pure” moura and I have already seen how the moura mark that every moura baby is born with- becomes less and less, until it’s barely a tiny dot. Until there is no moura mark at all and whatever traits mouras have, will become extinct just like the cloak, just like the heavenly moura. We are a dying breed, even now so many women have a hard time conceiving in the stables when mouras have always been renowned for the ability to conceive and carry with the utmost of ease. I do not know about the colonies, but at least in the stables. A whole country that used to be bursting with people, where there were literally tens and hundreds of thousands of families within the stables, and now instead of having dozens of family lines per district and quarter, there is only two or three families. I came from the Hanging Garden Quarter, it used to be the Sultanate Quarter, the Sultanate quarter catered to hundreds of Sultanate states in the middle east and far beyond. But as the Sultanate states fell one by one like dominoes, along with most other empires, the need for us became null and void and what used to be a court that was the same size as London is now…” You voice broke and became thick with emotion before Demsey reached out and simply held your hand. 

“Now it’s just five palaces under the Hanging Garden Quarter. It won’t be but two, maybe three generations before the stables collapse completely and Dorierra will just be another colony. We have already opened the doors to other mouras to take it over and there are so many from all over the world in different colonies who have taken it up so the country doesn’t fall to a peoples other than mouras. If not in kind, at least in name. After so many millennia of feeling like we were the apex of creation, our own obsession with perfection saw to our downfall and our own lust for power and riches saw to our own demise. That is why each gold moura mark is a sad reminder of what we used to be and used to have. So enjoy it while it lasts. Because it will not be around for forever.” You explained as Demsey now understood why Sultana Aurdravienne would not return to the stables. Because there was nothing for her to return to. 

“Do you think any of that would have ever happened had mouras never touched the ground?” Demsey asked. 

“I think it would have happened much, much sooner, and if we hadn’t, no moura would be alive today, or even one or maybe a few millennia ago. We would have died out long before and all we ever would have been is a myth that would have had no evidence of existence at all, the only evidence we have is the pictures the angles have taken of the heavenly moura over time. And they have gifted those pictures to the colonies and to the stables so that at least we have tangible proof instead of memories from our elders, but even now some just say they are pretty pictures painted by someone with an extreme imagination because the hot air balloons have gone up into the clouds and of course there’s no traces of heavenly moura left up there, there’s no palaces or estates or people.” You mused as you shook your head sadly. 

“Now you know.” You told him. 

“However that being said, this is the closest taste of home since I came here a lifetime ago. I wish this place would open a restaurant, and actually sell the food as is without the casino.” You murmured as you finally really dug into your feast as Demsey was now struck with an idea on how to charm Sultana Audravienne, he was going to bring this food to her. But first, he was going to ravish the Audra before him the moment she was done eating. 

Meanwhile Audrey and Draft had gone to Annie and Maria to inform them of what they saw. 

“I thought it was weird that she likened you to a draft horse instead of the brahma bull you are.” Annie mused to Draft. 

“And I thought it was weird that the gentleman got your name wrong. He called you Audra instead of Audrey. No one really ever get’s your name wrong. Not even the Dauphin Ramsey get’s your name wrong.” Maria realized. 

“So what are we going to do, because if either of them comes back and the other is not here, they will surely know something is wrong if they request us thinking it’s the other. And it would be ruin for the lady especially if who she is sharing that room with knows that she is a lady and not a harlot.” Audrey asked. 

“We will figure out something. They seem to come at the same time, maybe their coincidences will continue?” Draft ventured. 

“Maybe, but if they find out and want to continue, we can always keep one of the affair suites open for them, I mean there’s no reason why we can’t keep taking their money and why you two can’t keep taking their tips at least, if they’re paying for a service, let them pay.” Maria insisted with a shrug of her shoulder as the others nodded in agreement. 

“I have no problem taking the money, it’s not like I’m not rendering those services anyway.” Draft shrugged as Audrey nodded in agreement.

[notebooknebula]

Jake and Austin Deraaff

https://www.jayconner.com/jake-and-austin-deraaff/

Here on today’s show, I have amazing guests who actually twin brothers based out of New York City. They knew that the traditional route was not the best option for them. So they quit college and found an online course on making money in real estate WITHOUT any money!

After being told that they COULD NOT make it in real estate, they committed themselves to be successful.

In 7 months, they were able to do their first wholesale deal. This gave them proof of concept which gave them permission to take massive action. This led to 3 more deals. Then 30 deals. Now they’ve flipped about 60 houses so far!

Their mission is to help people build long term wealth through real estate investing.

With that, please welcome Jake and Austin Deraaf.

How they got to $3,000,000 in Wholesale Transactions both LOCALLY and VIRTUALLY.

Real Estate Cashflow Conference:

https://www.jayconner.com/learnrealestate/

Free Webinar:

http://bit.ly/jaymoneypodcast

Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.

#RealEstate #PrivateMoney #FlipYourHouse

What is Real Estate Investing? Live Cashflow Conference

https://youtu.be/QyeBbDOF4wo

#LearnRealEstate #RealEstateInvesting #JayConner

——————————————————–

Jay Conner (00:12): Well, hello there. And welcome to another episode of Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner. I’m Jay Conner, your host then also known as the Private Money Authority. And if you’re brand new to Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner, We talk about all things that relate to real estate investing from finding deals, funding deals, rehabbing, flipping, wholesaling, and even more important than that is automating the business. So you’re actually running your business and your business is not running you. So here on the show, I have these amazing guest and experts come on today is no different. But before I introduce my special guest today, I’ve got a very, very exciting announcement for all of you who are tuning in here, either on iTunes or Google play or any, or our YouTube channels or Facebook live streaming ever. How you’re tuning in here to the show.

Jay Conner (01:22): And that is, I just recently launched my new monthly membership, which is called the Private Money Academy membership. What’s so exciting about it. First of all, with all the benefits is that you actually get me live two times a month with a live Zoom group coaching call for all the Academy members. And so what I’m extending to you as, since you are tuning in you’re on the show, I’m going to be giving you a full free trial to the membership and it’s a 30 day trial and you can check it out go on over after the show to Jay Conner, JayConner.com/trial, Now what’s so exciting besides the two live group coaching calls, where we talk about anything in real estate investment that you want to always have special content I prepared for the membership.

Jay Conner (02:22): But we also have in the membership site, we’ve got content that’s being updated every month with all kinds of resources, for private money and et cetera. We talked about finding deals and all different subjects. So again, get on over to www.JayConner.com/trial, And I’ll see you on the inside of the Private Money Academy membership. Now, today my special guests are actually twin brothers and they are based out of the big Apple after 24 long months in college they were suffering, and they knew that the traditional route was not the best option for them as far as getting on their way to a career. So they quit college. They dropped out of school and they found an online course on how to make money in real estate with no money down.

Jay Conner (03:26): After being told by every friend and family and colleague that they could not make it in real estate. They still took a leap of faith and they committed themselves 100% of the way to doing whatever it took to be successful. So after their first seven months in the business, they still had not closed a deal. They finally made it to their very first closing of their wholesale delivers the wholesale deal. Well that gave them the element of poof, changed their lives, gave them a proof of concept and gave them permission to take massive action into what we call this real estate space. So shortly after that, they did three more deals and then soon became a close to doing 30 deals. So today, as of today’s show, they flipped and wholesale, Oh, around 60 houses. So far now some of their flips have been promoted even by local magazines in their area.

Jay Conner (04:27): Another goal was to earn 250 units by February, 2021. And they’re well on their way. Their mission is to help people build long term wealth through real estate investing and to give their partners safe and secure returns with that. I’m so excited to have you on the show, my friends, Jake and Austin Deraaff. Welcome Jake and Austin, Hello.

Austin Deraaff (04:55): What an introduction. Wow! couldn’t have said it better.

Jake Deraaff (04:57): Thank you so much for having us on, Jay. We appreciate it.

Jay Conner (05:00): Absolutely! Well, I appreciate you all coming on. I mean, you know, the big twin brothers, you know, at the ripe old age of 14 years old, it’s just amazing how far you all have made it.

Austin Deraaff (05:14): Still going strong

Jay Conner (05:18): So anyway let’s see, here we are in a high end real estate investing mastermind group, right?

Austin Deraaff (05:25): Yes sir.

Jay Conner (05:27): In fact, that’s how we met. Hey question. Do I get to see you in person in a couple of weeks? Are y’all doing that virtual thing?

Austin Deraaff (05:35): We’ll be there.

Jake Deraaff (05:35): We’ll be there.We’re flying down.

Jay Conner (05:38): Awesome! My wife, Carol Joy, and I we’ve already got our plane tickets so I can’t hardly wait to see you in person. It’s, I’m looking forward to it. I know people are ready to like get out of Dodge, Right?

Austin Deraaff (05:51): That’s true.

Jake Deraaff (05:52): Amen

Jay Conner (05:53): So I love your story. So I know you want to share this. So actually, how old are you all Austin and Jake?

Austin Deraaff (06:02): 23.

Jay Conner (06:04): 23? My lands to know what I now know when I was 23 years old mercy! could I have not owned the world? Like you’re on your way to do it. So we know part of your story. So you started out in college you know, you went to college for you know, a couple of years or so, and you figured out that wasn’t working. So did you actually go out looking to learn about real estate investing? Or how did that come along?

Austin Deraaff (06:38): So, yeah, it was actually funny. We actually, you know, we always liked making money. We used to flip shoes, flip electronics with everything. And then one day I was with Jake and we found this course online by Cody Sperber The Clever Investor. And it was how to make real estate with how to do real estate with no money down, no credit, no money. Well okay, we have no money, no credit, no license. Let’s try this out. So that introduced the wholesaling. And like you said, it took us seven months to finally get proof of concept. But once we got the proof of concept, you know, we take massive action. Like we get obsessed very quickly and that can be a good thing or a bad thing. And our scenario was a good thing, cause it was absolutely for our business. But it took us a while, but you know, we got it done.

Jay Conner (07:19): That is awesome! So you took that course and so give it, just give us like a summary as to, so when did you do your first deal?

Jake Deraaff (07:31): We did our first deal in may of 2018.

Jay Conner (07:35): Okay. 2018. You did your first deal.

Jake Deraaff (07:39): I’m sorry. March of 2018.

Jay Conner (07:41): Okay. So we’re a couple of years down the road. So share with us what that journey looks like from the time you started. I mean, first of all, you went seven months without doing your first deal. What do you think was the cause of that? And then what happened that really started to catapult your business? So just give us a summary of what’s that journey look like since you started.

Austin Deraaff (08:06): Yeah. It’s like any other business, you know, most people probably would’ve quit after month three or four, but you know, we had times where we want to stop and this doesn’t, we thought it didn’t work. We kept going after it. But the problem, we didn’t get the first deal. It wasn’t even about what we didn’t know. I’m sorry, what we did know it’s what we didn’t know. Like we weren’t really good at marketing. So we were doing very little strategic and the consistent marketing. Like we would put up band-it signs, talk to attorneys, do all these things, but not consistently. But once we started to do consistent efforts in marketing, we actually saw results. So I think the biggest thing was consistent marketing, you know, implementing what we’re reading and learning and stuff like that. A lot of people just reading on YouTube, but they don’t take action. So we start to take a lot of action and then, you know, results started to happen.

Jay Conner (08:52): I got you. And so in a couple of years I think you said you’ve done like 30 deals so far, right?

Austin Deraaff (08:59): Yep.

Jay Conner (09:00): That’s fantastic! So one of your goals is to have 250 units by February, 2020. When you say a unit, are you talking single family houses? Are you talking apartment doors or what’s your definition of a unit?

Jake Deraaff (09:17): Apartments.

Jay Conner (09:18): Apartments? Have you already started in the commercial space?

Austin Deraaff (09:22): Yeah, we have 16 units right now and then another 10 in contract. So 26 units are going to be at the end of the month, about 26 units and the rack, you know, marketing and try to find commercial buildings. So hopefully we have, you know, close to that number by the time the year ends.

Jay Conner (09:36): Are you focusing more on commercial now or single family houses?

Jake Deraaff (09:40): Single family is our bread and butter, but we are starting to look more into the multi-family space

Jay Conner (09:46): I got you. So in your single family space, are you doing more wholesaling or flipping or what’s the percentage of those deals was like?

Austin Deraaff (09:55): We have a couple of different buckets in our wholesaling flip business. So we wholesale and we wholetail we fix and flip. I would say if we did, you know, at a hundred percent, I’d say about 60% is wholesaling, 20% is wholetailing then 20% is flipping.

Jay Conner (10:09): All right. So most people know what wholesaling is. Most people know about flipping is let’s make sure everybody understands what’s wholetailing.

Austin Deraaff (10:17): Yeah. So wholetails are great, especially in the market that we’re in. So basically when you’re able to identify a property that you can buy at a wholesale rate. And at that point, what we do is we clean it out. We close on the property and if it’s in the condition where a bank would be able to loan on the property, that’s when we’ll relist it back on the market and get that full market value.

Jay Conner (10:37): I got you. So in your businesses Austin what hat hats do you wear and Jake, what hats do you wear?

Austin Deraaff (10:47): So I focus mainly on the sales and marketing and any type of like finances, again, the financing. So sales, marketing, and financing, and then I’m on the dispositions, operations and hiring.

Jay Conner (10:59): I got you. So you got to divide it out. Was it any of it? Was it any kind of a challenge when you started out and to figure out who was going to do what?

Jake Deraaff (11:07): He’s the born salesman, So he was on the acquisition team from day one. So

Jay Conner (11:13): Is that why Austin smiles more than Jake?

Jake Deraaff (11:16): Probably.

Austin Deraaff (11:18): Built him for it.

Jay Conner (11:20): I hear ya. So when you got started, what were some of your biggest challenges that you’ve faced and lessons learned?

Austin Deraaff (11:29): Good question. So I think the biggest thing, like any entrepreneur is like, is it gonna work like seven months felt like seven years? Because you didn’t see a check and you’re like, you have to keep telling yourself everyday. It’s going to work. It’s going to work. It’s going to work. But no one around us even knew what wholesaling was like, if you’re in Phoenix other places, it’s common to wholesale. But were in New York, no one even knew what it was. Even most of our attorneys didn’t even know what the word wholesaling was. We have to like reinvent the word in our area. So like, it was just, we had no one, not a lot of support. So we had to build our own inner belief system. So, and that’s the hardest part was telling ourselves It’s gonna happen. It’s just, when is it gonna happen? So we kept going and kept going. But I think if we would have had someone in the beginning that, you know, maybe the coaches have guided us and we were more consistent on marketing. We probably would’ve got a deal done a lot faster, but you know, life, the lessons you learn and the money you make. So that’s our philosophy.

Jay Conner (12:17): Exactly. So while were talking about marketing, you know, the two main things that people want to know that are real estate investors, whether they’re brand new or they’re seasoned, the two things they know want to know more than anything else is where do I find the deals and how do I fund the deals? Where do I find the deals and how do I get the money? Those are the two most popular questions. So in today’s market for your single family houses, let’s focus on that on single family houses. What are your best marketing methods that consistently? And that’s a word you used a few minutes ago. Very, very important word, consistent leads If we don’t have consistent seller leads coming into the pipeline in the funnel, we’re not in business, we’re out of business. What are your favorite methods now to get consistent seller leads?

Jake Deraaff (13:06): So our goal Do a lot of different marketing strategies. So we always continuously have leads coming in. So the stuff that’s been working for us has been direct mail, band-it signs, cold calling, texting door knocking. And we’re just we’re we love to network. So we’re always getting deals with realtors, other wholesalers and even attorneys.

Jay Conner (13:24): So in all those activities, what does your team look like? Like, do you have virtual assistants or what? Like you just mentioned a bunch of things that are like sub businesses or marketing efforts you know, in and of themselves, door-knocking, that’s a business model right there texting outbound calling. So how do you get all that done consistently?

Austin Deraaff (13:50): Yeah. Good question. So right now we have someone who does texting. Like his only job is just, you know, drop the text and answer the text. So he focused on that. We have, we have a van assigned team and then we have about four or five drivers. And what we did was we picked the one that had the most leadership qualities and made him the leader of the team. So he’s a leader of the van assigned team, same with door knocking and then cold calling and keep it in house. So all of our acquisition guys would make outbound calls daily, so led to keep everything. We don’t do any, any like Philippines cold calling, but we do work a lot of VA’s to help us out.

Jay Conner (14:23): Got you. So when it comes to door knocking what types of properties do you door knock?

Austin Deraaff (14:31): Pre-Foreclosures people who just passed away or inherited a property. We’ll get like a bunch of lists, Jay. And what we’ll do is we do something called list stacking. And if you’re new in the business, that’s something I would really recommend because you can get deals that are very cheap. So you basically get a bunch of different lists. Pre-Foreclosure probate, high equity combined into one list, whoever is on multiple lists, put it on a new list. And then we hit those doors. Cause if they’re on three, four, five lists, there’s something going on that you might need to know.

Jay Conner (14:57): How did you train your door knockers

Austin Deraaff (15:00): By doing it with them, Just like people try to automate that It’s really hard. You have to describe a deal with them, show how it’s done, record yourself, doing it, and then, you know, have them consistently do it.

Jay Conner (15:11): So let’s talk about door knocking. So you knock on a door give us your tips on how to successfully door knock. What’s the mindset. What’s the talk off points. How do you build immediate rapport? How do you keep the door from being locked in your face? And what’s the scripting sounds like.

Austin Deraaff (15:35): Yeah. Great question. So we actually started to do was before let’s say we have a list of 50 properties before we go out and actually physically knock. We’re going to send them a handwritten note. Hey, this is so and so we bought a couple of houses in the area. Would you ever consider selling? And now we go to the doors and say, Hey, you know, we’re just knocking. We actually left you a letter. Do you happen to get it? So I’m like, yeah, I got the letter. Awesome. Are you guys considering selling? Me and my partners bought a couple of homes in the area and we love to make an offer. So we kind of go in there with like a warmth, we sent a handwritten letters before and then go out to the house. So it’s not like it’s a cold conversation.

Jay Conner (16:11): Do you think the age of the person helps as far as who’s doing or the age of the person doing the door knocking?

Austin Deraaff (16:19): Yeah, All of our guys are under 30. We had to keep them yet kind of it’s for us. It’s been working well, we have everyone that works with us is younger. So that’s why it’s been working for us.

Jay Conner (16:32): So younger people are perhaps less intimidating when they’re knocking on the door, right?

Jake Deraaff (16:38): Exactly.

Austin Deraaff (16:38): Yeah.

Jay Conner (16:39): What’s your favourite way to find your team members?

Jake Deraaff (16:43): We use a lot of wisehire.com indeed.com.

Jay Conner (16:47): I love wisehire. My favorite reason for wisehire is you’re like already, automatically plugged in to all the other ones just by going into wisehire.

Jake Deraaff (16:58): Yeah. It’s great!

Jay Conner (17:00): Do you use any of their tools such as personality, self profiling tests, et cetera?

Jake Deraaff (17:06): Yeah, we use the PI. Predictive Index.

Jay Conner (17:10): Yep.

Jake Deraaff (17:10): Yeah. So that’s definitely helped us out. We actually hired Sharper Solutions Gary Harbor’s team. And they’ve been helping us out with some hiring as well for some of our key candidates.

Jay Conner (17:21): I got you. So how about, what’s your advice for young real estate investors, young entrepreneurs wanting to get into the business, like, you know, from your experience, what’s your advice to give them

Jake Deraaff (17:37): Well first? Yeah, there’s a lot of different things you can do in real estate. So what I would tell them is figure out exactly what you want to do. Do you want to flip, do you want to wholesale? Do you want to be an agent? Do you want to do creative financing deals? Do you want to be a landlord, figure out and identify what you’re looking to do. And once you figure out what you’re looking to do, just keep failing forward, hanging around the people that are, that have what you want or that are doing what you want and just continue to fail and just keep going. Because if you keep going and you keep learning, you’re just going to keep growing. And that’s basically what we did.

Jay Conner (18:08): So would you say you all have a company mission?

Austin Deraaff (18:12): Yeah. Our mission is to help as many homeowners as possible. Our goal is have 150 homeowners for the year. If we can do that buy a lot of apartments, you know, we’re happy where we’re at. We’re happy at that number.

Jake Deraaff (18:21): Yeah.

Jay Conner (18:22): Well, you said a word that’s very, very important to me and that is that word help. So the reason I asked you about the mindset or how you’re, you know, looking to approach and particularly when you’re door knocking or whatever, myself and my team, we take on the approach of, we are servants. We’re out here to help people we’re out here to serve people. As a matter of fact, when people respond to our marketing and they’re in foreclosure, one of the first questions we ask them is, do you want to keep your home? And I’m in a very, very small area. My total market is only 40,000 people. And so we asked her, do you want to keep going? Yeah, I want to keep your home. I said well, we’ve got a checklist of 10 different ways that you might want to check out what, of course we tell them, we’re not attorneys. We can’t give you legal advice, but we’ll ask him, you know, have you talked to your mortgage company about a a loan deferment program or what have you, and if we give somebody an audio that helps them save their home, there’s nothing in it directly for us. But I do know through the law of reciprocity, what goes around, comes around and the more people we can help get, what they want. We don’t have to worry about ourselves. Would you agree with that philosophy?

Austin Deraaff (19:34): Yeah, 100%. What goes around, definitely comes around. Yep.

Jay Conner (19:38): Excellent! We’re actually live streaming right now. We’ve got quite a few comments coming in from folks. So everybody that’s watching the live stream. We’re glad you’re here and and welcome to the show. So what type of advice would you give to people? You know, just in general, what, you know, when I’m asking a general question, what’s the best advice I can give to a real estate investor. That’s starting out. One of the first things I tell them is don’t try to go about this business by yourself. You need to join hips with somebody that actually has walked through the mines you know, instead of getting blown up yourself. And I believe you all got a coaching program that I know you can help anybody of any age, but for those that are particularly perhaps younger and starting out how has your coaching program worked guys?

Austin Deraaff (20:33): Yeah, so, like I said, we have a coaching program, so we have set times customized program per person. So if you’re in a different market than us, we can still help you out. So we do across the country, a set plan, set time for the calls. But the most important thing is we hold you accountable because a lot of times you can’t hold yourself accountable. You need somebody else to help you do that. So our goal is not to do the work for you, but to give you the roadmap, to do the work, hold you accountable, be coachable and give you a support system. cause the biggest thing for us was we didn’t have support. So it took us a while to get a deal.

Jay Conner (21:06): Yeah. how about you, Jake? Any other thoughts come out?

Jake Deraaff (21:10): That’s pretty much it. Yeah. We’re just anybody who’s looking to get their first deal done, whether it’s, you know, locally or, you know, even out West or wherever.

Jay Conner (21:18): Excellent. Well, you know, it’s for that reason that the three of us are in a mastermind together. I mean, it doesn’t matter whether you’re brand new or, you know, you’ve been doing this thing for a long time and you know, what was working really well, maybe two years ago may not be working so well today, particularly when it comes to different marketing methods and et cetera. So parting comments. I’ll start with you, Jake. And then we’ll wrap up with Austin parting comments that you’d like to share with my audience.

Jake Deraaff (21:51): Figure out what you guys are looking to do and what you’re looking to accomplish and back your way into it. So if you want to do 10 deals your first year, figure out how you’re going to get that. First one done continue to network with people. Cause one of our big sayings is your network is your net worth. So show me the five people you surround yourself with and I’ll show you your, your future. So if you continue to hang around, people that are elevating you and who are going after what they want, you’ll be in it heading the right direction.

Jay Conner (22:16): Awesome, Austin?

Austin Deraaff (22:18): I would say this six letter word it’s called commit. So even if you don’t want real estate wholesaling, or you don’t want going to real estate, whatever business or venture you’re going to do, just commit to it. Because when we first started, we didn’t give ourselves a plan B or C, we just burned the bridge. It was either real estate or homeless. So we have to make it happen. Cause we left their parents’ house. And he said, you’re either going to college or you’re until you’re coming home and going to college or you’re not coming home. So we said, alright, we’re not coming home. So we had to really commit to it. And yes, it took a time. It took, we learned a lot in the process and one quote that I was like is “you can’t fail if you don’t quit”. So the only time you actually fail is if you quit. So if you’re continuing to prosper, continue, stop daily and continue to take action. You’re actually not failing. You’re not doing at all. So continue to take massive action. Listen to guys like Jay and you’ll be very successful.

Jay Conner (23:07): Yeah. It’s improper for you to fail until you decide to quit. I think I heard somebody say that one time.

Austin Deraaff (23:12): Yep.

Jay Conner (23:13): That’s awesome. Well, listen, folks, if you want to stay connected and get to know Austin and Jake even better and perhaps work with them go on over to www.JayConner.com/closer, Again, that is to connect with Jake and Austin Deraaff go over to www.JayConner.com/closer, Austin and Jake. God bless you guys. So good to see you I’m looking forward to seeing you in a couple of weeks.

Austin Deraaff (23:54): Thank you so much, for having us in this show. That’s the best show on the internet. So we appreciate that.

Jake Deraaff (23:58): We’ll see you soon.

Jay Conner (23:59): All right. Thank you so much. There you have it folks. Another episode of Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner and I am Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority. Wishing you all the best. Here’s to taking your business to the next level. And I’ll see you on the next show. Bye for now.

[deviantofthemind]

𝕾𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝕾𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖘 𝕱𝖎𝖈𝖒𝖆𝖘 2020

Inspired by @doctorroseprompts​ I’m bringing to you Sanders Sides Ficmas *.*

Snuggle up, dearies, because we are doing this! I changed some prompts that just didn’t vibe with me and here we are. I can’t believe I really managed.

Anyways, please enjoy my humble offerings 🎁 and have a wonderful December!  

I’m going to do a taglist for Ficmas ^.^ Let me know if you want in <3

Under the cut you’ll find the teasers if you’re curious <3

Dec 1: Snowed in - Logince

Logan accompanied Roman on a Dragonwitch coven stalk out. They end up trapped in an old hunting cabin by a snowstorm in the middle of the imagination with nothing to entertain them for the next 24 hours. Roman grows very interested in Logan's recent reading material.

 Dec 2: Ginger/gingerbread - Moceit

Janus comes home from a long business trip, stressed and burnt out to a nicely decorated house, the smell of gingerbread and his very lovely husband.

 Dec 3: Shopping - Prinxiety

Roman is unduly excited about christmas shopping. Virgil finds it annoying, but also unsettling, embarrassing and so very nice.

Dec 4: Holiday movies - Anxceit

Virgil is cosied up for christmas break with his boyfriend in his parents otherwise empty house. They plan on nothing but eating an ungodly amount of food, relaxing and watching mushy christmas movies. They don’t actually watch anything.

Dec 5: Ornament - Royality

A royal Christmas Wedding. (This is essentially just the newlyweds gusching about each other :)]

Dec 6: Hope - Intruality

Patton spends the night before Christmas in the hospital after his boyfriend had been in a fatal crash.

Dec 7: Cold - Roceit

Roman is waiting impatiently for the return of his most trusted advisor and diplomat to return for the Christmas festivities at Sanders Castle.

Dec 8: Ice-Skating - Dukeceit

Janus isn’t ready for going ice-skating with his NHL playing boyfriend for the first time. Not really.

Dec 9: Snowflake - Logicality

He was eternally grateful for Patton's foresight and preparation because when the time came, he just had to say one word. OR Logan announces a code snowflake and Patton delivers on it.

Dec 10: Candle - Analogical

Use me with care and never leave me alone.

(This was NOT inspired by the warning label on a candle, NO SIR.)

After Virgil finds he has the best naps in the logical Side's room and Logan has gone to desperate matters to overpower the scent left in his sheets.

Dec 11: Mistletoe - DRLAMP

The Art of kissing. [I just want to see them snog ¯\_(ツ)_/¯]

Dec 12: Tree - Moceit (Part 2 to Dec 2: Gingerbread)

Patton had been promised a ride and some (kinda) quiet holidays.

Dec 13: Peace - Moxiety

Patton and Virgil are planning on spending a holiday together a few months into their relationship. Patton is a mess about everything this entails.

Dec 14: Smell - Analogical (Part 2 to Dec 10: Candle)

“Because you gonna burn the house down?” - “No because I’m going to start to cry and we both don’t want that.”

Dec 15: Ring - Loceit

If you asked Logan then he would say that they were good. Comfortable, running smooth, fitting together. No need for change at all. 

Dec 16: North Pole - Creativitwins

“Had I known that penance is so easy, Roman, you need to believe me, I had done it before.” 

Dec 17: Mittens - Royality

Patton is an okay student, an okay friend and prefers not to look in the mirror too closely. Needless to say he is a bit shell shocked when Roman Sanders starts flirting with him.

Dec 18: Presents - DRLAMP

Logan is tired. It has been a long year and he is tired. He has accomplished nothing and he isn’t sure how to improve to be heard and tolerated again amongst the other Sides.

Dec 19: Christmas jumpers - Moceit (Part 3 to Dec 2: Gingerbread and Dec 12. Tree)

Janus is aware that they look like a bit of a gay clichè but he honestly couldn’t give two fucks about it when Patton is this happy.

Dec 20: Love - DRLAMP

A spell gone wrong leaves Patton de-aged. The newly five-year old is not what everyone who knows and loves adult-Patton expects. 

Dec 21: Star - Gen

Janus is an immensely successful and well known lawyer. Over the years he had taken countless pro bono cases in favour of abused or neglected children. Now he feels like it’s time to take a step back from his work and start his own family.

Dec 22: Mulled Wine - Logicality

When left to one's own devices unwillingly, with annoying urges and confusing emotions it was the most logical thing in the world to overindulge in something that could help with all three of one’s predicaments. Wasn’t it?

Dec 23: Traditions - Logince

When Roman was ending his work night he usually hurried home as fast as possible. But tonight he’s hungry and his ankle hurts too much to walk even one step further.

Dec 24: Midnight - Intrulogical

This could have gone horrible in so many ways that Remus is pretty grateful that it’s only about a pint of blood on the polished marble floor.

Dec 25: Christmas Dinner - Logicality

Since Patton lived with the Sanders Clan and their Master Vampire Logan Sanders he had never been summoned for Dinner. Until this Christmas Eve.

Dec 26: Box - Loceit

Jan almost choked on her Chai Latte when the unfairly attractive, very tall and obviously stressed woman behind the counter shouted “Ultimate Christmas Cookie Boy for Janice!?” 

Dec 27: Joy - Gen (Part 2 to Dec 21: Star)

It’s Christmas and after six months in Janus’ care his adoptive son feels safe enough to start talking. 

Dec 28: Shiver - Loceit

Logan desperately needs a few lessons in self-care. But until Janus manages to hammer this into his thick skull he takes on the care work, for better or worse.

Dec 29: Sleigh - Prinxiety

It was going to be Virgil's first official event without his parents and he had been nervous since the invitation came weeks ago. The prince had personally invited him to the Christmas Ball.

Dec 30: Countdown - Loceit

Logan had not expected it to be like this, not ever. Because had he, he maybe wouldn’t have done it. But he was glad that his evaluation had been wrong as he was laying face down on a soft blanket, more relaxed than he had ever been in his life.

Dec 31: New Beginnings - Anxceit

In Virgil's humble opinion the whole year has been a gigantic shit show and he was tired. His best friend Patton still had the audacity to bully him into applying for an apprenticeship with the fancy new tattoo shop in town.

---------

[clubdolan]

Military Brat -- G.D.

idk it was an idea and i couldn’t think of an ending but i wanted to get it typed up

Grayson stretched his neck out and looked at his alarm clock; 3:23 a.m. 

And no one was sleeping next to him.

“Bub, come on.. back to bed, you’ll wake up if he calls..” He grabbed her hand, trying to pull her from the couch. She sat in her pajamas, his clothes, phone in hand, zoned out at the television in front of her.

“Els, c’mon..” He tugged, forgetting the whole reason he was awake was to go to the bathroom. 

“He said yesterday or today, at his lunch time... which is eleven to one which is two to four in the morning here.” She gripped harder onto her phone, checking the screen for the thousandth time that night. “Thirty minutes.”

Grayson sighed, letting go of her hand, “Give me a minute.”

A few minutes later he was back with a bottle of water and a blanket from his bed. “Come on, lay down.”

“I can’t fall asleep.” Elsa groaned, checking her phone again. He pulled her back to his chest and the blanket over her lap, “Gray, I can’t.”

“I’ll stay awake, I’ll hold your phone, you need to go to sleep.” He pulled her head onto his chest and tried to grab her phone but she wouldn’t budge. He didn’t fight it, he just wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her tighter.

Elsa sat up quick, looking at her phone. “I missed it, I probably--

“It’s been fifteen minutes.” He rubbed her back, “I will wake you up if anything pops up on your phone, I promise.”

She leaned forward, her face in her hands, “He’s not gunna call.”

“He’s going to call, he still has ten or fifteen minutes.” 

Elsa held in her sobs, trying to hide her tears from him but he already knew she was crying. Her dad was an Army Major stationed in Germany and she hadn’t spoke to him in two months and hadn’t seen him for almost a year. Her mother had passed away from cancer two years ago and she followed her dreams and moved to LA to continue dancing, which led her to him.

She was a back-up dancer in music videos, at concerts, awards shows and more. Her Instagram had gained a following which led to modeling and sponsorships and now she was considered an ‘influencer’.

She kept her family life off of the internet. All that anyone knew was that her mom had passed from cancer. Of course Grayson knew every detail, every story she told him good or bad, every memory she could remember with her dad and mom in Germany when she was younger, at their first US house in Virginia, their second US house in Texas. He felt like he knew her whole family but in reality, he had never met them.

He continued rubbing her back until she turned around and dug her face into the blanket in his lap, crying harder. “Els, c’mon bub.” He pushed her hair from her face, “I know this has been planned for weeks, he hasn’t forgot. Maybe a meeting has gone too long and he’s taking a late lunch?”

“I don’t know.. I just wish I could text him.. or email him. Or he would let me know somehow.. I just wait and wait--

She went silent as her phone vibrated, a little tune playing from it, DAD going across the screen.

“Oh my god, hi dad.” She cried out, now tears of happiness were flowing. 

“Hi Elsie-bug, sorry it’s so late, a meeting went a little long...” Grayson heard a muffled voice and left her on the couch, pushing the blanket around her shoulders. “Fill me in on everything, I’ve got a while.”

Grayson fell back asleep, hearing her little laugh every now and then & as he woke back up at six, he was still alone in bed. 

Elsa sat on the couch, sun peeking through the windows, smiling down at her phone as she typed away. “Morning, Gray!” She spoke up, giving him a smile. “My dad has an email I can send things to right now, so I’m pretty much blowing up his inbox while he’s working, I don’t know when it’ll be shut down.”

“Breakfast?”

“Please.” She groaned, thinking of how empty her stomach was. With her head still down she followed Grayson into the kitchen, “Remember when we went to Universal and got stuck on The Mummy ride?” She laughed, attaching the picture to an email and typing a caption. “I just want to send him my whole camera roll.”

“Please don’t send him your whole camera roll or he will not let you date me.”

“He probably wouldn’t even let me have a phone.” They both laughed, “He doesn’t know if he will be able to come home in the next two months. It could be six months before he’s back.”

“That sucks, but at least you can email him now, keep in contact more often. Tell him how great I am before I eventually meet him someday.” He sat a bowl of oatmeal in front of her, “I will eventually meet him, right?”

“Of course.” She finally put her phone down and sat on the counter to eat breakfast. Grayson walked back and forth making a protein shake for him and a smoothie for her; both chocolate peanut butter.

“I’m going to go workout--

“I’m going to sleep.”

“You’re making me work out alone?” He groaned, “But.. fine.”

“Bring your sweaty, little body back to bed when you’re done.”

“I can’t believe you just called me little.” He walked towards her, standing between her legs. “My sweaty, little body.”

“Sweaty... little... body...” She poked at his chest, “The smallest I’ve ever seen. You say you drink protein? Do you even have leg day?” Grayson laughed as she pulled his shirt off of him, “You call that a six-pack?”

“It’s practically an eight pack” he leaned forward, pinning her between the coffee machine and himself. 

Elsa grabbed his arms, her nails scraping along the back, “Your arms are so small, do you work out or just sit on the floor in there? These are pitiful. I ca--”

“You can talk shit about my arms all you want but I know you can get off by just thinking about them, so I’d shut up if I were you.” He mumbled against her mouth, leaving a quick kiss before going to their gym.

Elsa kicked off her shorts and shirt, putting on the shirt she had just taken off Grayson as she buried herself in the sheets exactly where he had laid the night before.

@ElsaOwens: 6:45am = Perfect bed time.

---reply: No I wasn’t partying, I didn’t just get home, I finally got to talk to my dad after two months of waiting. #armybratproblems 

She didn’t even remember putting her phone down before she was woken up by a weight dropping down on her whole body. Without thinking she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed the side of his head, “I’m still sleeping.”

“Do you want me to order you lunch with mine? Sushi.”

“My usual please.” She kissed the side of his head again before unwrapping her arms, expecting him to get up. 

“I’m tired.”

“Take a nap.” She tapped the top of his head, beginning to play with his hair.

“I want under the blanket.” He whined, standing up on his knees to push the whole blanket back before he dove back on top of her, shoving his head into her chest.

“You’re ... damp.”

“It’s my sweaty, little body.” He mimicked her, “Cardio and upper-body today.”

“Fuck-yeah upper body.” She rubbed her hands around on his stomach. 

“Ohh, fuck yeah upper body.” He made fun of her, pushing his shirt up her body, “Your naked.”

“I’m naked.” She giggled, watching him lay his head back down on her chest.

“I’m happy you got to talk to your dad today.” It was a cute moment, really it was. Elsa watched his eye lashes flutter close and she knew he really meant it. Her whole attitude had done a flip in the best way possible.

“You can’t get all touchy with me and then mention my dad.” Her finger trailed up and down his arm, leaving goosebumps along the way. “That’s like me teasing you and then mentioning Eth--

“Don’t fucking say his name.”

“---than.” She finished, pausing her finger. “Ruins it, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll still fuck the living day lights out of you. I don’t give a shit about my brother.” He mumbled into collar bone, “I hope he hears every second of it.”

“He left before you woke up. Surfing with Kyle or something?” She flinched as Gray bit into her skin, “Ugh, fuck, Gray.”

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

Grayson’s voice felt shaky and he wasn’t even talking. His phone screen was dark and he waited impatiently for it to light up, he didn’t have much time, Elsa would be home in almost an hour.

A foreign number popped up and with a shaky hand he slid the bar over and answered it, “Hello?”

“So you’re Grayson? The one my daughter won’t shut up about?” A man laughed on the other line, “It’s nice to... somewhat, meet you.”

“You too, sir.” Grayson had tried to prepare but he didn’t want Elsa to know her dad was calling him. He had snuck her phone, copied the address and sent a short email to him. Days later he was on the phone, soon talking to her dad like they were old friends.

“I’m exhausted.”

“You’ve been on the phone for thirty minutes, what’s that exhausting?” Ethan asked from the other couch, pulling his ear buds out.

“It was Elsa’s dad and I’m trying to plan a surprise for her to see him.” He sighed, “Well I think I just did plan a surprise for her to see him......” 

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

They came up with a fake video idea so them filming with Kyle didn’t seem suspicious. Elsa tagged along as they ran a few places just wasting time until her dad had landed.

“Els.”

“I’m not in this video, I’m not doing it...... what?” She asked, holding her own Target bag in hand walking to Ethan’s Jeep.

Grayson took the bag from her and put it in the car, “We just have to run and get Ricky at the airport, Kyle forget he said he’d pick him up.”

“Okay?” She looked at him funny, as if they needed her permission to go somewhere. “I’m literally just here to be here. I have no plans.”

Over an hour later they pulled into the airport parking lot and got out of the car, “Can’t he just walk--

“No we’re going in to get him, it’s a foreign flight and he’s got like three bags and we want to embarrass him with a sign.” He held his hand out and she grabbed onto it, pushing her sunglasses back to hold her messy ponytail in place. 

It took everything in him not to shake as they walked towards the airport. He knew Ethan and Kyle were behind them, filming, knowing exactly what was going on.

They all stood at the foreign arrivals gate, Ethan handed a rolled up poster to Elsa and had her hold it up to ‘see if it would fit in frame’. With a lousy smirk she held it up, watching him and Grayson keep backing up until it was all in frame. 

“Perfect! Now read the sign!” Grayson yelled, pointing down. 

Elsa was ready to read something dumb about Ricky, see an edited photo of him or some practical joke pulled on her but her eyes teared up as she read out loud, “I’ve waited a year to see my dad and I have no idea he’s right behind me.”

Her body froze and she dropped the sign and turned around. Her dad stood before her, Army fatigues and a bouquet of flowers.

The next few minutes was a whirl-wind. She hugged her dad for as long as possible, she cried the most she had in months, she didn’t even remember they were in airport or in public or that she was being filmed until her dad sat her down and said they could probably, “get going now.”

As she wiped her face off she saw Grayson standing next to her dad’s bags, holding her purse she had dropped on the floor with a little smirk on his face. “No way... no... you didn’t...”

“Nice to finally meet you, Grayson. In person.” Her dad stuck his hand out and Grayson shook it.

“In person.. so... wait, what?”

“I’ve talked to him a few times.. on the phone..” He acted cocky for keeping the secret. “Ethan and Kyle went to get the Jeep and your car is almost here. You’ve got dinner reservations with your dad.”

Elsa turned to look at her dad, back to Grayson then back to her dad, “All his idea.” Her dad said, looking at Grayson. 

“I can’t believe you.” She hugged him, starting to cry again. “I wanna be mad at you for not telling me but I can’t.”

He squeezed her tight, he felt her cry again, he felt her heart beating fast and could tell it meant everything to her. “He had a week off so we figured something out, you’ve got things all week to do with him.”

“With us, you’re coming with us, right Grayson?” Her dad spoke up.

Elsa nodded her head quickly, “Yes, he is. If he can. Can you?”

“I have a meeting one day but I can probably work the others out.” Elsa squeezed his arm and dug her head into his shoulder, “But dinner tonight is just you two. It’s already paid for. It’s your favorite place.”

They walked to the black SUV waiting outside and talked about the upcoming week, “It’s like two worlds colliding..” Elsa explained, “A good colliding.”

She kept her goodbye with Grayson short and sweet, her dad had never seen her with a boyfriend, let alone one she had been with for a while or one that went to this amount of planning to surprise her.

Grayson went to shake his hand but her dad hugged him, “Thank you, Grayson. For taking care of her.”

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

At midnight Elsa came running into Ethan and Grayson’s house as if someone was chasing her. “Where’s--

“He’s working out.” Ethan mumbled through a bite of food. 

She dropped her bag, shoes and whatever she could before rounding the corner and bursting into their workout room. Music was blaring and Grayson was laying on the ground, eyes squinted close as she silently counted sit-ups.

He almost started throwing punches when a body was on top of him, grabbing his face and straddling his chest. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

“Holy shit, bub. I almost hit you.” He sighed in relief, relaxing his muscles as they fell to the floor. “I’m glad you were surprised, I thought you would have figured it out by now.”

“I had zero idea.”

“Good.” He laughed, “Why are you here so late? You have to be up early tomorrow to get--

“I couldn’t sleep.” 

“I didn’t want to sleep.”

“I just.”

“I wanted to come say thank you.” Her thumb brushed along his stubbly chin, “So, thank you.”

Grayson’s hands slid up her back and he pulled her down to meet him better, “You’re so very welcome.” 

Their lips pulled apart and she couldn’t stop looking at him. The love of her life, had taken his own time, his own money, to give her the best gift of all time. “I still can’t believe--

“Believe it.” He laughed, “None of this is fake.” 

Grayson groaned into her mouth as she kissed him again, sliding her body down his. “I know Ethan’s coming in here to run so please let’s go to my room or literally anywhere else but here.” He quickly said, sitting up with her on his lap. 

She didn’t answer, she kept kissing him and he kept kissing back. “You’re going to be mad....” He tried to talk, “If Ethan walks in here.”

“I don’t even care if my dad asks why I arrive to breakfast with you tomorrow or if I’m wearing your shirt as a dress, I’m staying here tonight.”

idk how to end this bye

[timeless-hollywood-classics]

Errol Leslie Thomson Flynn (20 June 1909 – 14 October 1959) was an Australian-born American actor during the Golden Age of Hollywood. Considered the natural successor to Douglas Fairbanks, he achieved worldwide fame for his romantic swashbuckler roles in Hollywood films, as well as frequent partnerships with Olivia de Havilland. He was best known for his role as Robin Hood in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938); his portrayal of the character was named by the American Film Institute as the 18th-greatest hero in American film history. His other famous roles included the eponymous lead in Captain Blood (1935), Major Geoffrey Vickers in The Charge of the Light Brigade (1936), as well as the hero in a number of Westerns, such as Dodge City (1939), Santa Fe Trail (1940) and San Antonio (1945). Flynn also stirred controversy for his reputation as a womaniser and hedonistic personal life.

Errol Leslie Flynn was born on 20 June 1909 in Battery Point, a suburb of Hobart, Tasmania, Australia. His father, Theodore Thomson Flynn, was a lecturer (1909) and later professor (1911) of biology at the University of Tasmania. His mother was born Lily Mary Young, but shortly after marrying Theodore at St John's Church of England, Birchgrove, Sydney, on 23 January 1909, she changed her first name to Marelle. Flynn described his mother's family as "seafaring folk" and this appears to be where his lifelong interest in boats and the sea originated. Both of his parents were Australian-born of Irish, English and Scottish descent. Despite Flynn's claims, the evidence indicates that he was not descended from any of the Bounty mutineers.

Flynn received his early schooling in Hobart. He made one of his first appearances as a performer in 1918, aged nine, when he served as a page boy to Enid Lyons in a queen carnival. In her memoirs, Lyons recalled Flynn as "a dashing figure—a handsome boy of nine with a fearless, somewhat haughty expression, already showing that sang-froid for which he was later to become famous throughout the civilized world". She further noted: "Unfortunately Errol at the age of nine did not yet possess that magic for extracting money from the public which so distinguished his career as an actor. Our cause gained no apparent advantage from his presence in my entourage; we gained only third place in a field of seven."

From 1923 to 1925, Flynn attended the South West London College, a private boarding school in Barnes, London.

In 1926, he returned to Australia to attend Sydney Church of England Grammar School (known as "Shore"), where he was the classmate of a future Australian prime minister, John Gorton. His formal education ended with his expulsion from Shore for theft, although he later claimed it was for a sexual encounter with the school's laundress.

After being dismissed from a job as a junior clerk with a Sydney shipping company for pilfering petty cash, he went to Papua New Guinea at the age of eighteen, seeking his fortune in tobacco planting and metals mining. He spent the next five years oscillating between New Guinea and Sydney.

In January 1931, Flynn became engaged to Naomi Campbell-Dibbs, the youngest daughter of Robert and Emily Hamlyn (Brown) Campbell-Dibbs of Temora and Bowral, New South Wales. They did not marry.

Australian filmmaker Charles Chauvel was making a film about the mutiny on the Bounty, In the Wake of the Bounty (1933), a combination of dramatic re-enactments of the mutiny and a documentary on present-day Pitcairn Island. Chauvel was looking for someone to play the role of Fletcher Christian. There are different stories about the way Flynn was cast. According to one, Chauvel saw his picture in an article about a yacht wreck involving Flynn. The most popular account is that he was discovered by cast member John Warwick. The film was not a strong success at the box office, but Flynn’s was the lead role, and his fate was decided. In late 1933 he went to Britain to pursue a career in acting.

Flynn got work as an extra in a film, I Adore You (1933), produced by Irving Asher for Warner Bros. He soon secured a job with the Northampton Repertory Company at the town's Royal Theatre (now part of Royal & Derngate), where he worked and received his training as a professional actor for seven months. Northampton is home to an art-house cinema named after him, the Errol Flynn Filmhouse. He performed at the 1934 Malvern Festival and in Glasgow, and briefly in London's West End.

In 1934 Flynn was dismissed from Northampton Rep. after he threw a female stage manager down a stairwell. He returned to London. Asher cast him as the lead in Murder at Monte Carlo, a "quota quickie" made by Warner Brothers at their Teddington Studios in Middlesex. The movie was not widely seen (it is currently a lost film, but Asher was enthusiastic about Flynn's performance and cabled Warner Bros. in Hollywood, recommending him for a contract. Executives agreed, and Flynn was sent to Los Angeles.

On the ship from London, Flynn met (and eventually married) Lili Damita, an actress five years his senior whose contacts proved valuable when Flynn arrived in Los Angeles. Warner Bros. publicity described him as an "Irish leading man of the London stage."

His first appearance was a small role in The Case of the Curious Bride (1935). Flynn had two scenes, one as a corpse and one in flashback. His next part was slightly bigger, in Don't Bet on Blondes (1935), a B-picture screwball comedy.

Warner Bros. was preparing a big budget swashbuckler, Captain Blood (1935), based on the 1922 novel by Rafael Sabatini and directed by Michael Curtiz.

The studio originally intended to cast Robert Donat, but he turned down the part, afraid that his chronic asthma would make it impossible for him to perform the strenuous role.[19] Warners considered a number of other actors, including Leslie Howard and James Cagney, and also conducted screen tests of those they had under contract, like Flynn. The tests were impressive and Warners finally cast Flynn in the lead, opposite 19-year-old Olivia de Havilland. The resulting film was a magnificent success for the studio and gave birth to two new Hollywood stars and an on-screen partnership that would encompass eight films over six years. The budget for Captain Blood was $1.242 million, and it made $1.357 million in the U.S. and $1.733 million overseas, making a huge profit for Warner Bros.

Flynn had been selected to support Fredric March in Anthony Adverse (1936), but public response to Captain Blood was so enthusiastic that Warners instead reunited him with de Havilland and Curtiz in another adventure tale, this time set during the Crimean War, The Charge of the Light Brigade (1936). The film was given a slightly larger budget than Captain Blood, at $1.33 million, and it had a much higher box-office gross, earning $1.454 million in the US and $1.928 million overseas, making it Warner Bros.' No. 1 hit of 1936.

Flynn asked for a different kind of role and so when ill health made Leslie Howard drop out of the screen adaptation of Lloyd C. Douglas' inspirational novel, Flynn got the lead role in Green Light (1937), playing a doctor searching for a cure for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever.[22] The studio then put him back into another swashbuckler, replacing Patric Knowles as Miles Hendon in The Prince and the Pauper (1937). He appeared opposite Kay Francis in Another Dawn (1937), a melodrama set in a mythical British desert colony. Warners then gave Flynn his first starring role in a modern comedy, The Perfect Specimen (1937), with Joan Blondell, under the direction of Curtiz. Meanwhile, Flynn published his first book, Beam Ends (1937), an autobiographical account of his experiences sailing around Australia as a youth. He also travelled to Spain, in 1937, as a war correspondent during the Spanish Civil War.

Flynn followed this with his most famous movie, The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), playing the title role, opposite de Havilland's Marian. This movie was a global success. It was the 6th-top movie grosser of 1938.[25] It was also the studio's first large-budget color film utilizing the three-strip Technicolor process. The budget for Robin Hood was the highest ever for a Warner Bros. production up to that point—$2.47 million—but it more than made back its costs and turned a huge profit as it grossed $2.343 million in the U.S. and $2.495 million overseas.

It also received lavish praise from critics and became a worldwide favorite that has endured for generations. In 2019, Rotten Tomatoes summarizes the critical consensus: "Errol Flynn thrills as the legendary title character, and the film embodies the type of imaginative family adventure tailor-made for the silver screen." In 1995, the film was deemed "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant" by the United States Library of Congress and selected for preservation by the National Film Registry.

The scene in which Robin climbs to Marian's window to steal a few words and a kiss has become as familiar to audiences as the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet.[citation needed] Years later, in a 2005 interview, de Havilland described how, during the filming, she decided to tease Flynn, whose wife was on set and watching closely. De Havilland said, "And so we had one kissing scene, which I looked forward to with great delight. I remember I blew every take, at least six in a row, maybe seven, maybe eight, and we had to kiss all over again. And Errol Flynn got really rather uncomfortable, and he had, if I may say so, a little trouble with his tights."[30]

The final duel between Robin and Sir Guy of Gisbourne is a classic, echoing the battle on the beach in Captain Blood where Flynn also kills Rathbone's character after a long demonstration of fine swordplay, in that case choreographed by Ralph Faulkner. According to Faulkner's student, Tex Allen, “Faulkner had good material to work with. Veteran Basil Rathbone was a good fencer already, and Flynn, though new to the school of fence, was athletic and a quick learner. Under Faulkner's choreography Rathbone and Flynn made the swordplay look good. For the next two decades Faulkner's movie list as fencing double and choreographer reads as a history of Hollywood's golden years of adventure yarns [including Flynn's] The Sea Hawk (1940),[31]

The success of The Adventures of Robin Hood did little to convince the studio that their prize swashbuckler should be allowed to do other things, but Warners allowed Flynn to try a screwball comedy, Four's a Crowd (1938). Despite the presence of de Havilland and direction of Curtiz, it was not a success. The Sisters (1938) a drama showing the lives of three sisters in the years from 1904 to 1908, including a dramatic rendering of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, was more popular. Flynn played alcoholic sports reporter Frank Medlin, who sweeps Louise Elliott ( Bette Davis) off her feet on a visit to Silver Bow, Montana. Their married life in San Francisco is difficult, an Frank sails to Singapore just hours before the catastrophe. The original ending of the film was the same as the book: Louise married a character named William Benson. But preview audiences disliked that ending, and a new one was filmed in which Frank comes to Silver Bow to find her and they reconcile. Apparently audiences wanted Errol Flynn to get the girl, or vice versa. (Bette Davis preferred the original ending.)

Flynn had a powerful dramatic role in The Dawn Patrol (1938), a remake of a pre-code 1930 drama of the same name about Royal Flying Corps fighter pilots in World War I and the devastating burden carried by officers who must send men out to die every morning. Flynn and co-stars Basil Rathbone and David Niven led a cast that was all male and predominantly British. Director Edmund Goulding's biographer Matthew Kennedy wrote: “Everyone remembered a set filled with fraternal good cheer.... The filming of Dawn Patrol was an unusual experience for everyone connected with it, and dissipated for all time the legend that Britishers are lacking in a sense of humor.... The picture was made to the accompaniment of more ribbing than Hollywood has ever witnessed. The setting for all this horseplay was the beautiful English manners of the cutterups. The expressions of polite and pained shock on the faces of Niven, Flynn, Rathbone et al., when (women) visitors were embarrassed was the best part of the nonsense.”

In 1939, Flynn and de Havilland teamed up with Curtiz for Dodge City (1939), the first Western for both of them, set after the American Civil War.[34] Flynn was worried that audiences would not accept him in Westerns, but the film was a big hit, Warner Bros.' most popular film of 1939, and he went on to make a number of movies in that genre.

Flynn was reunited with Davis, Curtiz and de Havilland in The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939), playing Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex. Flynn's relationship with Davis during filming was quarrelsome; Davis allegedly slapped him across the face far harder than necessary during one scene. Flynn attributed her anger to unrequited romantic interest, but according to others, Davis resented sharing equal billing with a man she considered incapable of playing any role beyond a dashing adventurer. "He himself openly said, 'I don't know really anything about acting,'" she told an interviewer, "and I admire his honesty, because he's absolutely right." Years later, however, de Havilland said that, during a private screening of Elizabeth and Essex, an astounded Davis had exclaimed, "Damn it! The man could act!"

Warners put Flynn in another Western, Virginia City (1940), set near the end of the Civil War. Flynn played Union officer Kerry Bradford.

In an article for TCM, Jeremy Arnold wrote: "Ironically, the Randolph Scott role [as Captain Vance Irby, commandant of the prison camp where Bradford was a prisoner of war] was originally conceived for Flynn.... In fact, Virginia City was plagued with script, production and personnel problems all along. Shooting began without a finished script, angering Flynn, who complained unsuccessfully to the studio about it. Flynn disliked the temperamental Curtiz and tried to have him removed from the film. Curtiz didn't like Flynn (or costar Miriam Hopkins) either. And Humphrey Bogart apparently didn't care for Flynn or Randolph Scott! Making matters worse was the steady rain that fell for two of the three weeks of location shooting near Flagstaff, AZ. Flynn detested rain, and was physically unwell for quite some time because of it. As Peter Valenti has written, 'Errol's frustration at the role can be easily understood: he changed from antagonist to protagonist, from Southern to Northern officer, almost as the film was being shot. [This] intensified Errol's feelings of inadequacy as a performer and his contempt for studio operation.'" Despite the troubles behind the scenes, the film was a huge success, making a profit of just under $1 million.

Flynn’s next film had been planned since 1936: another swashbuckler taken from a Sabatini novel, The Sea Hawk (1940). However, in the end, only the title was used, and a completely different story was created.

A reviewer observed in Time Aug. 19, 1940, "The Sea Hawk (Warner) is 1940's lustiest assault on the double feature. It cost $1,700,000, exhibits Errol Flynn and 3,000 other cinemactors performing every imaginable feat of spectacular derring-do, and lasts two hours and seven minutes.... Produced by Warner's Hal Wallis with a splendor that would set parsimonious Queen Bess's teeth on edge, constructed of the most tried-&-true cinema materials available, The Sea Hawk is a handsome, shipshape picture. To Irish Cinemactor Errol Flynn, it gives the best swashbuckling role he has had since Captain Blood. For Hungarian Director Michael Curtiz, who took Flynn from bit-player ranks to make Captain Blood and has made nine pictures with him since, it should prove a high point in their profitable relationship." It was indeed: The Sea Hawk made a profit of $977,000 on that budget of $1.7 million.

Another financial success was the Western Santa Fe Trail (1940), with de Havilland and Ronald Reagan, and directed by Curtiz, which grossed $2,147,663 in the US, making it Warner Brothers' second-biggest hit of 1940.

In 1940, at the zenith of his career, Flynn was voted the fourteenth most popular star in the U.S. and the seventh most popular in Britain, according to Motion Picture Daily. According to Variety, he was the fourth-biggest star in the U.S. and the fourth-biggest box-office attraction overseas as well.

Flynn consistently ranked among Warner Bros.' top stars. In 1937, he was the studio's No. 1 star, ahead of Paul Muni and Bette Davis.[43] In 1938, he was No. 3, just behind Davis and Muni.[44] In 1939, he was No. 3 again, this time behind Davis and James Cagney.[45] In 1940 and 1941, he was Warner Bros.' No. 1 top box-office draw. In 1942, he was No. 2, behind Cagney. In 1943, he was No. 2, behind Humphrey Bogart.

Warners allowed Flynn a change of pace from a long string of period pieces in a lighthearted mystery, Footsteps in the Dark (1941). Los Angeles Times' Edwin Schallert wrote: "Errol Flynn becomes a modern for a change in a whodunit film and the excursion proves eminently worth-while... an exceptionally clever and amusing exhibit …" However, the film was not a big success. Far more popular was the military drama Dive Bomber (1941), his last film with Curtiz.

In later years, Footsteps in the Dark co-star Ralph Bellamy recalled Flynn at this time as "a darling. Couldn't or wouldn't take himself seriously. And he drank like there was no tomorrow. Had a bum ticker from the malaria he'd picked up in Australia. Also a spot of TB. Tried to enlist but flunked his medical, so he drank some more. Knew he wouldn't live into old age. He really had a ball in Footsteps in the Dark. He was so glad to be out of swashbucklers."

Flynn became a naturalized American citizen on 14 August 1942. With the United States fully involved in the Second World War, he attempted to enlist in the armed services but failed the physical exam due to recurrent malaria (contracted in New Guinea), a heart murmur, various venereal diseases and latent pulmonary tuberculosis.

Flynn was mocked by reporters and critics as a "draft dodger,” but the studio refused to admit that their star, promoted for his physical beauty and athleticism, had been disqualified due to health problems.

Flynn started a new long-term relationship with a director when he teamed with Raoul Walsh in They Died with Their Boots On (1942), a biopic of George Armstrong Custer. De Havilland was his co-star in this, the last of 12 films they made together. The movie grossed $2.55 million in the U.S. alone, making it Warner Bros.' second-biggest hit of 1942.

Flynn's first World War II film was Desperate Journey (1942), directed by Walsh, in which he played an Australian for the first time. It was another big hit.

The role of Gentleman Jim Corbett in Walsh's Gentleman Jim (1942) was one of Flynn’s favorites.[54] Warner Bros. purchased the rights to make a film of Corbett's life from his widow, Vera, specifically for their handsome, athletic and charming leading man.

The movie bears little resemblance to the boxer’s life, but the story was a crowd pleaser. Despite—or perhaps because of—its departure from reality, “Gentleman Jim” packed the theaters. According to Variety, it was the third Errol Flynn movie to gross at least $2 million for Warner Bros. in 1942.

Flynn eagerly undertook extensive boxing training for this film, working with Buster Wiles and Mushy Callahan. Callahan's remembrances were documented in Charles Higham's Errol Flynn: The Untold Story. "Errol tended to use his right fist. I had to teach him to use his left and to move very fast on his feet...Luckily he had excellent footwork, he was dodgy, he could duck faster then anybody I saw. And by the time I was through with him, he'd jab, jab, jab with his left like a veteran."

Flynn took the role seriously, and was rarely doubled during the boxing sequences. In The Two Lives of Errol Flynn by Michael Freedland, Alexis Smith told of taking the star aside: "'It's so silly, working all day and then playing all night and dissipating yourself. Don't you want to live a long life?' Errol was his usually apparently unconcerned self: 'I'm only interested in this half,' he told her. 'I don't care for the future.'"

In fact, Flynn collapsed on set on July 15, 1942, while filming a boxing scene with Ward Bond. Filming was shut down while he recovered; he returned a week later. In his autobiography, My Wicked, Wicked Ways, Flynn describes the episode as a mild heart attack.

In September 1942, Warners announced that Flynn had signed a new contract with the studio for four films a year, one of which he would also produce.

In Edge of Darkness (1943), set in Nazi-occupied Norway, Flynn played a Norwegian resistance fighter, a role originally intended for Edward G. Robinson. Director Lewis Milestone later recalled, "Flynn kept underrating himself. If you wanted to embarrass him, all you had to do was to tell him how great he was in a scene he'd just finished playing: He'd blush like a young girl and muttering 'I'm no actor' would go away somewhere and sit down."[63] With a box office gross of $2.3 million in the U.S, it was Warner Bros.' eighth biggest movie of the year.

In Warners' all-star musical comedy fund-raiser for the Stage Door Canteen, Thank Your Lucky Stars (1943), Flynn sings and dances as a cockney seaman boasting to his pub mates of how he's won the war in "That's What You Jolly Well Get," the only musical number that was ever performed by Flynn on screen.

In late 1942, two 17-year-old girls, Betty Hansen and Peggy Satterlee, separately accused Flynn of statutory rape at the Bel Air home of Flynn's friend Frederick McEvoy, and on board Flynn's yacht Sirocco, respectively. The scandal received immense press attention. Many of Flynn's fans founded organizations to publicly protest the accusation. One such group, the American Boys' Club for the Defense of Errol Flynn—ABCDEF—accumulated a substantial membership that included William F. Buckley Jr.

The trial took place in late January and early February 1943. Flynn's attorney, Jerry Giesler, impugned the accusers' character and morals, and accused them of numerous indiscretions, including affairs with married men and, in Satterlee's case, an abortion (which was illegal at the time). He noted that the two girls, who said they did not know each other, filed their complaints within days of each other, although the episodes allegedly took place more than a year apart. He implied that the girls had cooperated with prosecutors in hopes of avoiding prosecution themselves. Flynn was acquitted, but the trial's widespread coverage and lurid overtones permanently damaged his carefully cultivated screen image as an idealized romantic leading player.

Northern Pursuit (1943), also with Walsh as director, was a war film set in Canada. He then made a film for his own production company, Thomson Productions, where he had a say in the choice of vehicle, director and cast, plus a portion of the profits. This picture had a modest gross of $1.5 million. Uncertain Glory (1944) was a war-time drama set in France with Flynn as a criminal who redeems himself. However, it was not a success and Thomson Productions made no more movies. In 1943, Flynn earned $175,000.

With Walsh he made Objective, Burma! in 1944, released in 1945, a war film set during the Burma Campaign. Although popular, it was withdrawn in Britain after protests that the role played by British troops was not given sufficient credit. A Western, San Antonio (1945), was also very popular, grossing $3.553 million in the U.S. and was Warner Bros.' third-biggest hit of the year.

Flynn tried comedy again with Never Say Goodbye (1946), a comedy of remarriage opposite Eleanor Parker, but it was not a success, grossing $1.77 million in the U.S. In 1946, Flynn published an adventure novel, Showdown, and earned a reported $184,000 (equivalent to $2,410,000 in 2019).

Cry Wolf (1947) was a thriller with Flynn in a seemingly more villainous role. It was a moderate success at the box office. He was in a melodrama, Escape Me Never (1947), filmed in early 1946 but not released until late 1947, which lost money. More popular was a Western with Walsh and Ann Sheridan, Silver River (1948). This was a hit, although its high cost meant it was not very profitable. Flynn drank so heavily on the set that he was effectively disabled after noon, and a disgusted Walsh terminated their business relationship.

Warners tried returning Flynn to swashbucklers and the result was Adventures of Don Juan (1948). The film was very successful in Europe, grossing $3.1 million, but less so in the U.S., with $1.9, and struggled to recoup its large budget. Still, it was Warner Bros.' 4th-biggest hit of the year. From this point on, Warner Bros. reduced the budgets of Flynn's films. In November 1947 Flynn signed a 15-year contract with Warner Bros. for $225,000 per film. His income totaled $214,000 that year, and $200,000 in 1948.

After a cameo in Warner Bros.' It's a Great Feeling (1949), Flynn was borrowed by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer to appear in That Forsyte Woman (1949) which made $1.855 million in the U.S. and $1.842 million abroad which was the 11th-biggest hit of the year for MGM. He went on a three-month holiday then made two medium budget Westerns for Warners, Montana (1950), which made $2.1 million and was Warner Bros.' 5th-biggest movie of the year, and Rocky Mountain (1950), which made $1.7 million in the U.S. and was Warner Bros.' 9th-biggest movie of the year. He returned to MGM for Kim (1950), one of Flynn's most popular movies from this period, grossing $5.348 million ($2.896 million in the U.S. plus $2.452 million abroad) making it MGM's 5th-biggest movie of the year and 11th biggest overall for Hollywood. It was shot partly in India. On his way home he shot some scenes for a film he produced, Hello God (1951), directed by William Marshall; it was never released. For many years this was considered a lost film, but in 2013 a copy was discovered in the basement of the surrogate court of New York City. Two of seven cans of the movie had deteriorated beyond hope, but five survived and are at the George Eastman House film archive for restoration.

Flynn wrote and co-produced his next film, the low-budget Adventures of Captain Fabian (1951), directed by Marshall and shot in France. (Flynn wrote articles, novels and scripts but never had the discipline to turn it into a full time career. Flynn wound up suing Marshall in court over both movies.

For Warners he appeared in an adventure tale set in the Philippines, Mara Maru (1952). That studio released a documentary of a 1946 voyage he had taken on his yacht, Cruise of the Zaca (1952). In August 1951 he signed a one-picture deal to make a movie for Universal, in exchange for a percentage of the profits: this was Against All Flags (1952), a popular swashbuckler. As early as 1952 he had been seriously ill with hepatitis resulting in liver damage.[80] In England, he made another swashbuckler for Warners, The Master of Ballantrae (1953). After that Warners ended their contract with him and their association that had lasted for 18 years and 35 films.

Flynn relocated his career to Europe. He made a swashbuckler in Italy, Crossed Swords (1954). This inspired him to produce a similar movie in that country, The Story of William Tell (1954), directed by Jack Cardiff with Flynn in the title role. The movie fell apart during production and ruined Flynn financially. Desperate for money, he accepted an offer from Herbert Wilcox to support Anna Neagle in a British musical, Lilacs in the Spring (1954). Also shot in Britain was The Dark Avenger (1955), for Allied Artists, in which Flynn played Edward, the Black Prince. Wilcox used him with Neagle again, in King's Rhapsody (1955), but it was not a success, ending plans for further Wilcox-Flynn collaborations. In 1956 he presented and sometimes performed in the television anthology series The Errol Flynn Theatre that was filmed in Britain.

Flynn received an offer to make his first Hollywood film in five years: Istanbul (1957), for Universal. He made a thriller shot in Cuba, The Big Boodle (1957), then had his best role in a long time in the blockbuster The Sun Also Rises (1957) for producer Darryl F. Zanuck which made $3 million in the U.S.

Flynn's performance in the latter was well received and led to a series of roles where he played drunks. Warner Bros. cast him as John Barrymore in Too Much, Too Soon (1958), and Zanuck used him again in The Roots of Heaven which made $3 million (1958). He met with Stanley Kubrick to discuss a role in Lolita, but nothing came of it.

Flynn went to Cuba in late 1958 to film the self-produced B film Cuban Rebel Girls, where he met Fidel Castro and was initially an enthusiastic supporter of the Cuban Revolution. He wrote a series of newspaper and magazine articles for the New York Journal American and other publications documenting his time in Cuba with Castro. Flynn was the only journalist who happened to be with Castro the night Batista fled the country and Castro learned of his victory in the revolution. Many of these pieces were lost until 2009, when they were rediscovered in a collection at the University of Texas at Austin's Center for American History. He narrated a short film titled Cuban Story: The Truth About Fidel Castro Revolution (1959), his last-known work as an actor.

Flynn developed a reputation for womanising, hard drinking, chain smoking and, for a time in the 1940s, narcotics abuse. He was linked romantically with Lupe Vélez, Marlene Dietrich and Dolores del Río, among many others. Carole Lombard is said to have resisted his advances, but invited him to her extravagant parties. He was a regular attendee of William Randolph Hearst's equally lavish affairs at Hearst Castle, though he was once asked to leave after becoming excessively intoxicated.

The expression "in like Flynn" is said to have been coined to refer to the supreme ease with which he reputedly seduced women, but its origin is disputed. Flynn was reportedly fond of the expression and later claimed that he wanted to call his memoir In Like Me. (The publisher insisted on a more tasteful title, My Wicked, Wicked Ways.

Flynn had various mirrors and hiding places constructed inside his mansion, including an overhead trapdoor above a guest bedroom for surreptitious viewing. Rolling Stones guitarist Ron Wood toured the house as a prospective buyer in the 1970s, and reported, "Errol had two-way mirrors... speaker systems in the ladies' room. Not for security. Just that he was an A-1 voyeur." In March 1955, the popular Hollywood gossip magazine Confidential ran a salacious article titled "The Greatest Show in Town... Errol Flynn and His Two-Way Mirror!" In her 1966 biography, actress Hedy Lamarr wrote, "Many of the bathrooms have peepholes or ceilings with squares of opaque glass through which you can't see out but someone can see in."

He had a Schnauzer dog, named Arno, which was specially trained to protect Flynn. They went together to premieres, parties, restaurants and clubs, until the dog's death in 1941. On 15 June 1938 Arno badly bit Bette Davis on the ankle in a scene where she struck Flynn.

Flynn was married three times: to actress Lili Damita from 1935 until 1942 (one son, Sean Flynn, 1941 – c. June 1971); to Nora Eddington from 1943 to 1949 (two daughters, Deirdre, born 1945, and Rory, born 1947); and to actress Patrice Wymore from 1950 until his death (one daughter, Arnella Roma, 1953–1998). Errol is the grandfather to actor Sean Flynn (via Rory), who starred in Zoey 101.

While Flynn acknowledged his personal attraction to Olivia de Havilland, assertions by film historians that they were romantically involved during the filming of Robin Hood[97] were denied by de Havilland. "Yes, we did fall in love and I believe that this is evident in the screen chemistry between us," she told an interviewer in 2009. "But his circumstances [Flynn's marriage to Damita] at the time prevented the relationship going further. I have not talked about it a great deal but the relationship was not consummated. Chemistry was there though. It was there."

After quitting Hollywood, Flynn lived with Wymore in Port Antonio, Jamaica in the early 1950s. He was largely responsible for developing tourism to this area and for a while owned the Titchfield Hotel which was decorated by the artist Olga Lehmann. He popularised trips down rivers on bamboo rafts.

His only son, Sean (born 31 May 1941), was an actor and war correspondent. He and his colleague Dana Stone disappeared in Cambodia in April 1970 during the Vietnam War, while both were working as freelance photojournalists for Time magazine. Neither man's body has ever been found; it is generally assumed that they were killed by Khmer Rouge guerrillas in 1970 or 1971.

After a decade-long search financed by his mother, Sean was officially declared dead in 1984. Sean's life is recounted in the book Inherited Risk: Errol and Sean Flynn in Hollywood and Vietnam.

By 1959, Flynn's financial difficulties had become so serious that he flew to Vancouver, British Columbia on 9 October to negotiate the lease of his yacht Zaca to the businessman George Caldough. As Caldough was driving Flynn and the 17-year-old actress Beverly Aadland, who had accompanied him on the trip, to the airport on 14 October for a Los Angeles-bound flight, Flynn began complaining of severe pain in his back and legs. Caldough transported him to the residence of a doctor, Grant Gould, who noted that Flynn had considerable difficulty navigating the building's stairway. Gould, assuming that the pain was due to degenerative disc disease and spinal osteoarthritis, administered 50 milligrams of demerol intravenously. As Flynn's discomfort diminished, he "reminisced at great length about his past experiences" to those present. He refused a drink when offered it.

Gould then performed a leg massage in the apartment's bedroom and advised Flynn to rest there before resuming his journey. Flynn responded that he felt "ever so much better." After 20 minutes Aadland checked on Flynn and discovered him unresponsive. Despite immediate emergency medical treatment from Gould and a swift transferral by ambulance to Vancouver General Hospital, he did not regain consciousness and was pronounced dead that evening. The coroner's report and the death certificate noted the cause of death as myocardial infarction due to coronary thrombosis and coronary atherosclerosis, with fatty degeneration of liver and portal cirrhosis of the liver significant enough to be listed as contributing factors. Flynn was survived by both his parents.

Flynn was buried at Forest Lawn Memorial Park Cemetery in Glendale, California, a place he once remarked that he hated.

[brax-was-here]

Scarlet Briar: The Redemption of Ceara Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Death Still Hunts You

Written by: Braxxus

Sometimes life gives us a new perspective

     “Ok, you three are free to go. You will be escorted to the gate.” Sergeant Connery said to Amaranda and the two young wardens. “But Captain, you’ll need to stay here for now.”

     “We’ve told you everything we know!" Failynne protested. “Tyria is in grave danger. There is an elder dragon out there growing stronger as we speak, and you are not helping the situation by keeping us here!”        

     “The pact can handle the dragon. We’re dealing with a situation here in the city!" He barked back at her. 

     Failynne turned to Amaranda. “Tell mother that I'll be back as soon as I can." Failynne glared at the sergeant.

     “I will.” Amaranda nodded as she and the two sylvari gathered their things and were escorted from the office. They were quietly marched to the Asura gate on the palace grounds. Amaranda sighed as she entered the warp gate. They exited the other side of the gate into the Grove, a look of disgust about Amaranda’s face. “Ugh. I hate those things. They always make my innards turn.” She cursed. “Remind me to thank Failynne when she finally returns. Without her, I feel the Seraph would have kept us in that awful city forever.” she said to the two young wardens behind her.

     She wasted no time rushing to the Omphalos chamber, where the Avatar of the Pale Tree was waiting for her.

     “Mother! I have urgent news!”

     “Amaranda. You have returned, my child. Tell me, what information have you found?”

     “Mother, Ceara…she is alive. She lives. I saw her at the Crown Pavilion in Divinity’s Reach.”

     “The Pale Tree breathed a sigh of relief. “This is excellent news, my child. Tell me, is she still in the thrall of madness?”

     “No, mother. She’s...she's not Scarlet Briar anymore. Scarlet Briar is..." Amaranda was lost in thought for a moment. “She’s...something else. A ghost, a spirit of some sort. Full of so much hate and evil.

     The Pale Tree pondered a moment. “Ceara and Scarlet Briar are now separate beings. This is troublesome. What is it now that this spirit craves?”

     “The spirit was…acting very oddly. As if she was afflicted with Ceara’s madness."

     “Or perhaps the spirit is Ceara's madness. And that has somehow manifested itself into a separate entity.” the Pale Tree said thoughtfully.

     “But…how could that happen?” Amaranda asked.

     “It is unknown what Ceara saw or experienced when she was attached to the Asuran device. Only that it shattered her mind. She fought to preserve her own sanity, but sadly she lost in the end.”

     “And her madness took over?”

     “Indeed, and it seems to somehow gain its own sentience.” The Pale Tree added.

     “So it is this spirit that is corrupting the Dream. Not Ceara."

     “It would appear so, my child. But the questions remain…what does it want? And why is it doing it?”

     “Mother, it created a memory echo of the battle at the Pavilion. It somehow absorbed all the chaotic energy created by the echo. It captured Ceara and seemed to want to merge with her. But something happened. It was hurt somehow, something stopped it. That’s when it threw Ceara into some kind of rift.” Amaranda explained.

     “A rift? Do you know where it led?"

     “No mother. So much was happening. We tried to run.” Amaranda paused. "Mother, it talked of helping someone it called ‘father’” The Pale Tree fell silent and closed her eyes. “Mother, it said that we would all fall to Mordremoth. That it plans to help him become even more powerful. How do we stop this spirit?”

     “This is grave news indeed, my child. Perhaps the way to stop her is to study the very thing that created her.”

     “Mother, that could take years. Ceara is possibly the most intelligent of all Sylvari in such matters, but it took her months of studying if the stories are true.”

     “Perhaps we aren’t meant to, but those that taught her may offer some insight.”

     “You mean the professor that attached her to the machine? But he was slain by her own hands, was he not?”

     “Yes, he was, but he was not the only teacher she had.”

     Amaranda closed her eyes and sighed. “Very well, Mother. I shall leave for Rata Sum immediately.” She bowed to the Pale Tree and turned to leave.

     “Be safe, my child. May you find the information we seek.”

     “Thank you, Mother.” The Pale Tree watched as Amaranda entered the seed pod that took her back to the lower levels of the Grove.

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

     “WHAAAAAA!!!” Ceara screamed as she fell out of the portal into a group of bushes, water pouring over her a few seconds more before the rift closed.  She quickly got to her feet and looked around. 

     “The Pavilion…I’m back in DR…in the middle of the day…Thorns!” She quickly pulled the hood of her cloak up.

      “It sounded like it came from over here.” A voice in the distance said.

      “Oh no…” She looked around for a place to hide while trying to conceal her face. She darted behind another small set of bushes near a sculpture. Peeking through the leaves, she saw two Seraph approaching.

      “I’ve got to get out of here. If I’m caught, I’m toast.” She thought. The Seraph stopped at the bushes where she had landed.

     “Looks like water. A whole lot of it.” One of them noted. They both looked up at the next level of the city.

     “You think old man Martin threw his laundry water over the edge again?”

     “I don’t know. That looks like an awful lot of water for just laundry.”

     “Yeah it does. Maybe a water line broke?”

     “Possibly. But I don’t think there are any lines up there.”

     “Excuse me sirs.” They heard nearby. They both turned to see a middle-aged man walking towards them carrying some gardening tools.

     “Yes?” one of the Seraph asked.

     “I live nearby and saw part of what happened here.”

     “Oh? What did you see?”

     “I was tending to the plants around my home when I heard what sounded like a large clap of thunder followed by what seemed to be the sound of a river and a high-pitched scream. When I turned, I saw water pouring from the sky, and I believe someone running from it. I thought maybe they got caught under it.”

     “Were you able to see what the person looked like?”

     “No sir. Only that they were wearing a dingy looking cloak.”

     “Well, that describes half the people in the city. Thank you for your information.” One of the Seraph said to him, before turning to his partner.

     “Go on up there and check see if any water mains busted. And check on Martin. Poor guy, his life hasn’t been the same since his wife was killed in Lion’s Arch.” Ceara felt as if someone plunged a knife in her chest. She covered her mouth and held her breath.

     “I don’t have time for this. Not right now. I’ve got work to do.” She thought to herself. Taking a deep breath, she spied an elderly woman nearby walking towards one of the gates to the Pavilion. Ceara quickly darted for her, running up next to her and matching her gait. Ceara even bent over a little as she walked, mimicking the womans stride.

     "Excuse me, Miss. Would it be ok to walk with you for a while?"

     "Oh! I didn't see you come up. Of course! I could use the company. Tell me youngster, what is your name?”

     Ceara thought for a moment. “It’s…Jin. My name is Jin.” She remembered the pirate woman in Bloodtide Coast.

     “My that’s a pretty name. Tell me, Jin. How old are you?”

     “I’m…I’m 23 cycles old.” Ceara replied nervously

     “23? Oh, you’re so young. I remember when I was 23, there was a man that we called Sparky that was quite the prankster. He once blew the manhole covers out of the street with one of his pranks. Made such a gods awful racket you could hear for city blocks." Ceara was only partially listening as she was constantly on the lookout as they slowly made their way out of the pavilion and into the Ossan Quarters section of the city.

     “That seems like a very explosive story.” She quipped.

     “Oh, he was quite the fun one. And handsome too. If only I could have gotten my hands on him. Mmm…let me tell you.” The old woman replied. Ceara lightly smirked at the thought.

       “Well, maybe one day you’ll get the chance.” Ceara commented before darting away down an alley. “Ok, out of the pavilion, now to get out of this city.” She cautiously made her way through the area, trying not to draw attention to herself, avoiding the Serpah at all costs. The Ossan Quarter was a section of Divinity’s Reach built to help refugees from Elona fleeing from the rule of the lich king Palawa Joko. It’s architecture greatly resembled the towns of the desert kingdom in its former glory. The time was midday and many people were out and about doing their daily chores or running errands. Guards were sparse in the area, which worked in her favor. Reaching the area of the Salma district, she realized sneaking through the area would be near impossible. The area was walled off with posted guards at each gate.

     “Briars…” she whispered to herself. She sighed as she looked up the path to the next level of the city, an area that encircled the palace. “There will guards everywhere up there.”

     “You look fairly well for someone who is supposed to be dead.” a solemn voice said from behind her. Ceara slightly turned her head while slowly starting to walk away. “I know who you are…Ceara.” The voice said. Ceara froze for a moment, then slowly turned. Not too far away stood a Sylvari with dark blue skin dressed in sylvari clothing

.

     “Who might you be?” she asked in a commanding tone. The Sylvari stepped forward, causing her to place her hand on her pistol under her cloak. He stopped, raising his hand and lightly waving it.

     “There’s no need for violence here, Ceara.” She glared at him. “I am Diarmad. I tend to the graveyard here in Divinity’s Reach. And you…you have somehow avoided death. A great feat indeed.”

     “So it would seem, now unless you have something to say, I need to be on my way.”

     “Death still hunts you, Ceara.  She’s waiting for your return.”

     “Death? You mean…?”

     “Oh yes. It paid me a visit recently. It warned me that I should start preparing the grounds. That things will soon change for all of us.”

     “I won’t let it. It wants to feed Tyria to that jungle dragon.” Ceara replied. “I have to stop it…even if…well…you might be getting a new tenant in your graveyard soon.”

     “I hope for your sake, it’s not you.” He replied.

     “We’ll see, grave tender.” She turned and made her way up the path, walking at a normal pace. Reaching the end of the path, she froze. Four Seraph guards in the immediately vicinity. She did notice one thing that could work in her favor. The area was busy with commerce. There were people of all creeds everywhere.

     “Well, this works.” Pulling her hood down to conceal her face as much as possible, she cautiously stepped out into the street and mingled into a group of people.

     “Do you think Lord Faren will be in when we arrive?” A voice caught Ceara’s attention. Slowly turning, she spied a small group of noble women standing near one of the gates to Salma District.

     “I do hope so. He promised to take us on a magnificent journey into the Maguuma Jungle to watch the Pact defeat the dragon there.”

     “You would do well to avoid the jungle.” Ceara thought to herself. “But still…I…I want to take a magnificent journey with Lord Faren too.” She lowered her head as she stood in silence for a moment, thinking about what happened at the Queens Jubilee when she attacked it. Lightly kicking a rock, she turned slowly and continued on her way. Passing by a bread cart, the smell of the food went right to her stomach.

     “I have got to eat something.” She let out a sigh and approached the vendor.

     “Yes, ma’am?” a tall dark skin human male asked. Ceara grabbed a large bread roll and held it up.

     “Fifty copper.” He told her. She fidgeted around in the satchels of her armor until she found a small coin pouch.

     “Thank you.” She responded quietly as she laid the coins out on the counter.

     “Some strange things happening at the pavilion lately.”  a voice spoke from behind her. She froze again, her heart in her throat.

     “Yeah. Not sure what it’s all about.” another replied.

     “I have got to get out of this city.” she thought to herself as she quietly pushed her way through the crowd. It wasn’t long before the main gate to the city came into view.

     “Thank the pale tree, I’m almost there.” She veered out of the commerce area and down into the Rurikton district. “Better to stay out of that shopping area.” She thought to herself as she started tearing pieces of the loaf off to eat. Reaching the bottom of the walkway, the tavern known as the Maiden’s Whisper came into view. She paused momentarily as she slowly continued chewing on a piece of bread.

     “I could use some tea right now…” she thought. “Thorns…” She also spied an asura gate that took travelers to the town of Ebonhawke in the distance. “and I could leave for good and not come back.” She thought. “Except the gate would be heavily guarded. There is no way I would get passed them.” Sighing heavily, she continued on. She passed through the Kormir Plaza and entered into the Eastern Commons. The gates to the city were just on the southern end of the district.

     “Such a contrast from the rest of the city.” She thought to herself. The Eastern Commons was the poorest part of Divinity’s Reach. “Still, living in one of these simple houses would have been better than that cold damp cave under the Priory. At least I would have been warm.” She took in the surroundings as she walked cautiously through the streets. Citizens were out milling about, going about their daily lives. Every so often she would spot what seemed to be a shady exchange between individuals in the alleys between houses.

     “I would think the Seraph would have a larger presence in this section of the city.” She muttered to herself, reading a sign above a doorway as she passed. “The Dead End? Heh, that’s what this whole part of the city seems like.” The sound of laughter inside could be heard with the sound of mugs clanging together. “At least someone is happy here.” As she approached an archway, she could see a small carnival set up in the open area beyond, with the walkway up to the gate area just passed a large tent.

     “This has been almost too easy.” She thought to herself as she passed through the archway. She felt uneasy, then she noticed the Seraph guards at the far end of the carnival area. “There they are. I’ll have to find another way.” She turned and stopped, a name plaque on a nearby house caught her eye.

     “Delaqua and Meade residence” she said to herself. “Delaqua…Delaqua…” She stood in thought for a moment, then it struck her. “That necromancer on the Breachmaker…and her lover princess. This is their home… I think.” Ceara had mixed emotions running through her head. She felt angry at the duo, but at the same time, she didn’t really blame them for fighting, for doing what they did. After all, she wasn’t in control of herself then. Grabbing a small stone from the ground, she walked up to the stoop in front of the house. She knelt down and scratched “I’m sorry. C.” into the step. Tossing the stone aside, she stood and turned to find a pistol pointed at her face.

     “Oh! Well hello!” She yelped. She quickly glanced at the person on the other end, a young man who was somewhat disheveled. Some of his clothes bore a striking resemblance to an Aetherblade uniform, however now tarnished and in disrepair. “And who might you be?” she asked.

     “Scarlet Briar…” he sneered.

     “Um..no. That’s me. I asked who you are?” she quipped. She narrowed her eyes. “You do seem familiar.”

     “I’m one of your followers. Someone who believed the lies you told us.” He hissed at her. “You spoke of great power and riches beyond our dreams. And then you left us to the mercy of the Lionguard. And you died…supposedly. And yet, here you are.”

     “Well, you know the old cliché. ‘The rumors of my death have been highly exaggerated”. She quipped again. “Now, what is it you want?”

     “I’m going to get what’s rightfully mine. I’m going to turn you over to the Seraph, and the reward they’ll pay out…why I’ll be set for life. Be able to buy my own airship and leave this pathetic hovel.”

     “Is that so? Tell me, boy. How did you find me?”

     “I’ve shadowed you ever since you fell out of that...hole. Waiting for the perfect time to strike.”

     "You could have easily struck me down with my back turned. Why didn’t you?”

     “I wanted you to see it was one of your former followers. That it was me.”

     “Heh, what makes you so sure they’ll give you a reward?”

     “Enough with the questions. Move!” he shouted.

     “Boy, don’t you know nobody orders Scarlet Briar around?” she said defiantly. He struck her across the side of her face with the pistol.

     “I said move!”

     She felt her blood run down her cheek. She cut her eyes at him for an instant. Before he knew what was happening, he felt an electricity charge course through his body as she quickly knocked the gun away and struck him in the chest, knocking him back.  He slumped on the ground in a heap, his body quivering as small arcs of electricity bounced over him. She picked up his pistol and grabbed him by his shirt and drug him out of sight.

     “I don’t have time for your games, boy. And I don’t have time for you.” She pointed the pistol at his forehead. “You should have left well enough alone.” She growled before pulling the trigger. The discharge of the bullet echoed off the walls of the alley. She leisurely checked the chamber of the pistol.

     “Two rounds. That’s it? Anyway, I’ll be taking this as you don’t need it anymore.” she said angrily. There was a commotion stirring nearby. “Seems more attention was attracted than I wanted.” She dashed out of the opposite end of the alley away from the carnival crowd.

     “Time for a new plan.” She took a long path around the houses in the area and managed to get the street that would take her to the gates of the city. Known as the Dwayna Low Road, she could see the gate at the far end. “So close.” She thought to herself. “Just have to get passed those guard houses.” She took a deep breath and started walking. The road was filled with street vendors peddling their wares. Food, games, clothing, and entertainment. All there for the common civilians of the city. She weaved her way cautiously through the denizens of Divinity’s Reach until she neared the point where the road opened out into the Plaza of Dwayna before the city gates. She paused a moment, looking at the guard huts on both sides of the gate. She breathed deep and made sure her cloak concealed her as much as possible. She then hunched over and mimicked the old womans walk that she had met earlier and hobbled herself across the plaza.

     “Miss, do you need some help passing through the gate to Shaemoor?” a voice called from one of the guard shacks. She froze for an instant.

     “No, sir. No I do not. I’m quite fine but thank you for your kindness.” She said in the best elderly sounding tone she could muster.

     “Very well then. If you ever need any help, just ask.”

     “Thank you, sonny.” She replied as she passed through the first gate. “Mother, if I get out of here alive…I…well, I don’t know what I would do.” She thought to herself. It wasn’t long before she made it through the outer gates and into the village of Shaemoor. She breathed a great sigh of relief. Continuing her hobbled gait, she waited until she was out of site of the guards at the outer gate before running off into the hills of Queensdale.

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “The Cuddling Room”

“The Cuddling Room” is a unique idea Y/N came up with when her relationship with The Joker started to fall apart. The awesome plan worked for a while…until it didn’t. Maybe the sanctuary’s purpose wasn’t to mend the present, but to heal old wounds that will never fade unless given a chance.

 The Joker walks the hallway leading to the kitchen, dreading the imminent reality: after another horrible fight last night, Y/N is probably gone. Terrible things were said in the hit of the moment and The King of Gotham abandoned the Penthouse, leaving a heartbroken girlfriend behind.

No texts and no phone calls; you are always the first one to reach out and J sort of got used to it. Since you didn’t bother to contact him at all, he assumed you had enough and left.  

Nobody lasts in a relationship with The Joker anyway.

Why?

Because he “doesn’t do” relationships: The Clown Prince of Crime is truly clueless on how to handle them, especially when he actually likes someone. It’s a paradox he can’t escape: the more J tries to hold on, the more his urge to mess up exponentially increases.

He passes by the studio and can’t help but notice the flashy hand written sign hanging on the door: “The Cuddling Room.”

Lots of thumping sounds and the door is cracked opened: The Joker peeks inside only to see Y/N running around in order to finish the project she worked on for hours in his absence.

The small room is entirely remodeled: there are decorative lights dangling from the ceiling, candles and books scattered on the shelves, flowerpots plus a twin-size bed moved from storage courtesy of Frost and Shark.

“What are you doing?!” J crabbily mumbles, not that he would admit how relieved he feels you’re still on the premises.

“I’m not talking to you,” you pout and fluff the pillows.

“You just did,” he brings it to your attention, very intrigued while analyzing the surroundings. “What’s this supposed to be?!”

“Sanctuary,” the clarification briefs the puzzled Joker. “If we have an argument and things go downhill…” you take a deep, strenuous breath, “…and want to work it out, we can use this place. We can be mad and resentful, yet here we can be together without being together.”

“Huh?” J has a difficult time processing the peace offer because nobody else went through so much trouble for him before.

He’s just not worth it.

“The mattress is tiny; two people have to cuddle if they want to fit…That’s why it’s called the cuddling room,” you grouchily finish your speech.  

You hear him huff and slam the door, meaning he’s dismissing your idea.

We’ll see how it goes, you sigh and grab a book, deciding to dwell into the newly transformed oasis.

About half an hour later, The Joker sneaks in and you completely ignore him. He took a shower, changed into a pair of sweatpants and decided to pop in for additional criticism that will promptly be addressed towards Y/N and her silly experiment.

The blinds are closed; the string lights and candles glowing in the darkness make the room very cozy: The Queen of Gotham reigns her minuscule kingdom quite relaxed after she lost hope The King will join.

He slowly drags his feet on the rug, adamant in not giving into the tempting thought of compromising for once; nevertheless he winds up in bed by a sulking girlfriend.

“Scoot,” J hisses and the reply clarifies your denial:

“I’m at the edge on my side.”

He groans, squirming to get comfortable and you snatch the cell phone out of his hand, hiding it under the cushions.

“No electronics!”

He puckers his lips, irritated.

“Excuse me?!”

“Read a book!” you cut him off.

The Joker is outraged at your behavior; he mutters several complaints that you disregard. You’re getting ready to turn the page and he protests:

“I’m not done!”

Apparently J is reading your book now.

“That’s crazy!” he scoffs at the story and elbows you.

You lastly turn the page and he continues to scan the novel until there are no more words: he passed out nuzzling to your shoulder; the lack of space gave him no other option, which is literally the point of Y/N’s attempt to save their affair.

You cover him with the blanket, annoyed he’s purring in his sleep; The Joker often does it when he’s totally carefree and you’re definitely jealous at his detachment from stuff that keeps you up at night.

He senses wiggling and wraps his left arm around your waist, a natural reaction to what he would usually do. Even if you’re aware he’s unconsciously responding to the closeness, you can’t resist the impulse: you slide on the pillows, touching his nose with yours.

“Mmm…” he moans, opening one eye. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” you yawn and hesitantly kiss him, immediately smiling when he kisses you back.

“Then stop fidgeting and let me rest,” The Joker scolds without any trace of bitterness in his voice.

“I’m almost falling off the mattress,” you lie and don’t wait for an invitation to snuggle to his chest.

“Then got to the master bedroom,” the fussy Clown reprimands while holding you tighter.

“Maybe later…” you sniffle and stroke his hair, grateful your skills aiming at reconciliation are paying off.

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

Your awesome plan worked for a while…then it didn’t.

Later in the year, succeeding another dreadful confrontation, J was a no show in The Cuddling Room for eight days in a row; he barely spoke to you and was gone most of the time. I guess that was his method of telling his woman it was over; she expected a bit more after 23 months of being part of The Joker’s life and his indifference hurt more than it should have.

One morning he came home and the view of suitcases piled up by the elevator made him frown.

“Y/N?...” he shouted and there was no reply.

J searched the Penthouse and found a teary Y/N boxing items she purchased to adorn the special haven that meant so much to her; might as well take them away since The Clown Prince of Crime had no need for such trivialities.

He watched you in silence, bothered to see the consequences of his actions: after struggling on a decision, The Joker was at last coming to use The Cuddling Room. Instead of disclosing his intentions, the opposite came out of his mouth:

“You finally got the hint?”

You grabbed the crate in a hurry and rushed outside the studio, not looking at him. He had no clue how deep of a wound he inflicted that day; The Joker should have put his wretched temper on hold and confess why he was there for.

But he couldn’t… To him, it was easier to end it.

So he let you go.

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

It wasn’t easy to endure J’s presence at certain meetings you had to attend due to your involvement with the same entourage as his. God knows you had issues to get out of your chest, yet pretending to be fine suited you better. You mostly kept your distance, avoiding dialogue at all cost.

In a way, one could say he respected that: your ex didn’t attempt to chitchat either, especially when he realized you seemed happy when Tony Bianchi, everyone’s favorite smuggler developed an interest in you.

For several months you two would show up everywhere and soon after the engagement ring on your finger got rumors circulating, The Joker and the rest of the world noticed the baby bump too. Although it wasn’t a secret you were dating Tony and accepted his marriage proposal, you maintained your private life off radar.

The reason was plain and simple: besides your tumultuous relationship with J, the new found love appeared to be a walk in the park; you didn’t have to resort to extreme lengths in order to keep things afloat. You and your fiancée worked together in fixing problems that would seldom arise because that’s what couples do: if they want to thrive, they will find the middle ground. Y/N didn’t feel she was alone against the odds; having a suitable partner was her special paradise and she fully enjoyed the opportunity of being cherished like she deserved.

How life works it’s a real mystery: some facts can’t be explained, others happen for a reason and just a handful are the universe’s manner of rebalancing events that should have occurred differently due to stupid human errors, even if changing the final result meant to destroy and rebuild from scratch.

To this day, The Joker perfectly remembers his heart stopped at 6:37am on September 23rd ; he was cruising in the back of his favorite SUV, still sleepy and discontent for the emergency meeting requested by a few business partners at such an early hour. J didn’t know the reason why but agreed to go; Frost was on the phone trying to find out more details and Panda was driving as smooth as possible, not wishing to aggravate his boss more than necessary.

The King of Gotham was kind of dozing off when Jonny finished his phone conversation and got his attention:

“Sir…”

“Mmm?...” he lifted his nonexistent eyebrows and made an effort to gather his thoughts.

“Tony Bianchi was murdered last night, the victim of a home invasion, possibly a score settling with the deceased. The allies want to meet and assess the damage since everyone constantly invests huge amounts of money with the smuggler. Now that he’s history, they’re not sure who’ll replace him.”

The Joker’s heart stopped.

“And Y/N?” he flatly asked, allegedly composed for the shocking blow; after all, inquiring about his former girlfriend might have been perceived as weakness and he had none.

“I guess she wasn’t home.”

The Clown hummed incomprehensible sentences, calculating how much venue he might have lost in the messy situation. He didn’t allow himself to admit to the obvious truth: once he heard Y/N wasn’t dead, his heart started beating again.

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

Three months following Tony’s death, J had the chance of an encounter with you and to classify it as awkward wouldn’t do that evening any justice.

Richard aka Panda was finishing his cigarette behind “Neon Devil” club, when the bouncers engaged into an escalating confrontation got his attention; he was preparing to take over Nixon’s shift as main security for the back entrance and had to check in anyway.

“The club is closed; are you deaf?” one of the guys pushed the lady on the sidewalk and she almost fell.

“Is Tony here?” the seven month pregnant Y/N insisted, getting ready to stroll into the place.

“Let me repeat myself!” another guard shouted. “We have no Tony working here, capisci?! What the hell is wrong with you? Are you on drugs?!”

“I have to see if he’s in there,” you passed your fingers through your hair, visibly distressed.

“Are you kidding me?!” Mike grumbled, fed up with the crazy babbling. “You have five seconds to scram, understand?! Five, four …”

“What’s going on?” Richard approached and recognized you instantly.

“She keeps on asking about a Tony; we told her we have nobody with that name employed here but this wacko doesn’t get it!” Nixon reported.

“I know her so back the fuck out!” Panda threatened the newbies that had no idea who you were. He took your arm and guided you inside, making you sit in the lobby while he called his boss.

“Mister Joker, Y/N’s here,” Richard announced before taking you to the VIP room.

“Huh?”

“Ummm… she’s here looking for…e-hem…Tony. Can I bring her up or should I take her home?”

Long moments of silence and J made his decision:

“Bring her up.”

You were accompanied upstairs and Panda helped you settle on the couch opposite The Clown’s while he quietly analyzed you: he could tell that something was off.  Your cheeks were flushed and you nervously played with your t-shirt, the dark circles under your eyes bearing witness to the numerous sleepless nights tolerated in the past weeks.

The rumor was you suffered a nervous breakdown and had this recurring “episodes” consisting of wandering off to familiar places in search of your departed fiancée. The pregnancy made it impossible for you to use any medications that could have aided with your frail mental state; counselling and therapy could only accomplished that much and The Joker could entirely observe the transformation in the woman he once dated.  

“Is…is Tony here?” you whispered, investigating the room.

“Nope. Didn’t see him in a while.”

“I don’t know where he is...” the tears rolled down your face. “I can’t find him…”

“Jesus…” The King of Gotham mumbled under his breath. “How’d you get here?” he crossed his legs and caught you ogling the food: J craved Thai and immediately changed his mind as soon as the courier arrived.

“I…I took a cab and then… then… walked,” you seemed confused and he slid the foam container on the coffee table, making it easy for the future mother.

“Are you hungry?”

Y/N nodded a yes and The Joker examined her scarfing down the freshly cooked dish, still warm since the restaurant wasn’t far from the club. You kept sobbing and chewing, wiping your tears from time to time.

“Here’s some water,” he opened a small bottle and offered it to his grieving ex: she was definitely famished.

J sighed and reached for his cell phone, dialing Soraya’s number: she was appointed to take over for Tony because you were in no shape to do so.

“Are you missing a valuable member of your crew?” he barked when she answered.

“Oh my God Mister J, please tell me Y/N’s with you!”

“She is.”

“Thank heavens! We’ve been seeking for her: she had an ultrasound this morning and vanished from the doctor’s office afterwards,” the agitated 50 years old brings to The King’s knowledge. “I’ll send a car to pick her up.”

“No need to,” he interrupted her tirade. “I got it.”

J hung up and patiently waited for you to finish eating: since you were wearing your maternity jeans plus a basic t-shirt, he clearly noticed the baby moving under the thin fabric. It was slightly fascinating and weirdly enough not a dull spectacle.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride home,” he uttered and you stood up, eager to comply:

“Is Tony there?”

The Joker said nothing; he escorted you to one of the vehicles stationed in the underground parking lot and dodged your questions regarding the assassinated smuggler.

He kept navigating the streets until he realized why you quit talking: Y/N loved car rides and completely crashed after scarcely napping in the last months.

The green haired man has always been a reckless driver, yet he didn’t speed nor take sharp turns with you in the passenger’s seat.

The traffic was harrowing and he just calmly went with the flow instead of having a tantrum; such a rare occurrence that he managed to stay cool. J was practically at your house when he switched the plan: he turned the signal on and took a right, skeptical about his own judgement.

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

You slowly blink, adjusting your eyes to the decorative lights hanging from the ceiling.

“Where am I?...” you toss in the small bed, disoriented and groggy after snoozing for 10 hours straight.

The electronic clock on the wall near the windows show 5 am; which windows though?... They don’t resemble the ones at your house, but somehow summon past memories: a few candles, scattered books on the shelves, flowerpots… and the handwritten sign you scribbled almost three years ago pinned on the wide opened door: “The Cuddling Room.”

You touch your tummy and get on your elbow; the little unborn girl keeps kicking and you moan in pain at the splitting headache menacing to burst full throttle in the next minutes.

“It’s fine sweet pea,” you caress your bump and contemplate the peaceful environment, frowning when you discover The Joker gazing at you from the recliner.

“Hi,” he sucks on his teeth for the lack of a better tactic.

“Why am I here?!” you grow exponentially alarmed at the baffling reality: shit, it’s The Penthouse.  Not that you recall how you got here; last evening is an absolute blur.

The Joker lifts his shoulders up, not possessing a logic rationalization himself.

“I don’t like this place,” you struggle to stand up, more and more upset at the idea you were brought up to a spot you hate without your consent.

“I do,” J serenely admits. “It’s calming.”

“Why is this stuff still here?!” your bottom lip quivers at the sight of everything you left behind when you vacated the premises in a hurry.

“I didn’t have time to clean.”

“Really?!” you start crying and accomplish to roll off the bed.

“I’m a busy individual,” he watches you stumble on the carpet and rushed to help. You reject his assistance, bothered he dares taking such liberties: 

“Please don’t touch me!!”

J halts his movement, receptive to your demand; he’s aware of your precarious relation and it makes him grasp the basic notion: bringing you to The Penthouse was a huge mistake.

“I have to go home,” you sniffle and stomp around him. “I need to find Tony.”

“You won’t find him…” The Joker bites his lip.

Y/N ends up in front of her former boyfriend and the hurt look on her face accentuates the sorrowful plea:

“Why would you say something like that?...”

“You know why… He’s gone,” J growls and surprisingly regrets his words when you collapse on your knees, bawling your eyes out at the cruel statement. Unfortunately it’s true also.

On the good days you remember and the person to remind you shouldn’t be the man that shattered your heart to pieces with his indifference; he shouldn’t have the privilege of harming you again.

Yet The Joker doesn’t appear to be overjoyed at his accomplishment; he frankly wasn’t aiming for a meltdown.

He lowers his body next to yours, attempting to hug you; you keep on pushing him away until he finally mutters:

“I didn’t mean it… alright? I didn’t mean it,” he forcefully holds you as you squirm to escape the unwelcomed intimacy. “I’m trying to apologize, ok?!” he raises his voice and reaffirms: “I didn’t mean to say it!”

You dig your nails in his shirt, not used to hear such compromising sentences from his part.

How you longed for him to give you a small token of his affection when you were together; why doing it now when it’s pointless?

J takes advance of Y/N lowered resistance and squeezes her closer, pleased that she gradually lets him embrace her without fighting his grip. It’s strange for this to happen in the tiny sanctuary that meant hope for them many years ago.

Maybe because The Cuddling Room’s purpose is not to mend the past, but to heal old wounds that will never fade unless given a chance.

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and AO3 under the same blog name: Diyunho.

[westannatasharomanoff]

THG AU Chapter 28

Chapter 1       Chapter 2     Chapter 3     Chapter 4    Chapter 5    Chapter 6 Chapter 7   Chapter 8   Chapter 9  Chapter 10   Chapter 11 Chapter 12  Chapter 13 Chapter 14  Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19   Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22  Chapter 23   Chapter 24  Chapter 25 Chapter 26   Chapter 27

TW: Major Character Death

*One month after S.H.I.E.L.D. successfully stole the file,  it was once again time for The Hunger Games. Bruce was no longer a mentor, but Natasha still had to go to The Capitol. Unfortunately, she couldn’t help as much this year because she couldn’t teach tactical climbing. Luckily, Wanda offered to help Natasha’s tribute learn what he needed to learn. Once the games started, Natasha’s tribute was dead within two days. She decided that she wanted to go home instead of staying in The Capitol.* 

Bruce: You’re home early.

Natasha: I missed you. Besides, everyone was asking me questions about the baby and it was a bit overwhelming. 

Bruce: Did you convince them to tell you if we’re having a boy or a girl? 

Natasha: I asked, but they wouldn’t tell me. 

Bruce: I need to mentally prepare if we have to name our child Triffle. 

Natasha: *laughs* Yeah. 

Bruce: In all seriousness, I’m excited no matter what we’re naming our child. 

Natasha: Good. So am I. 

*A couple more months go by. S.H.I.E.L.D. successfully carries out a few more missions to subtly weaken The Capitol. The Capitol brought Natasha there to have the baby. Bruce waited in the hallway until he was allowed to go in.*

Nurse: Sir? You can go in now.

*The nurse lead him into the room. *

Bruce: How’re you feeling?

Natasha: Tired. You? 

Bruce: Excited. And also very nervous. 

Natasha: Okay. Well, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. * handing him a baby with dark hair and blue eyes wrapped in a pink blanket* This is Victoria! 

Bruce: *crying* Wow. 

Natasha: Is something wrong?

Bruce: No, this moment is just so perfect. I don’t think anything could mess this up. 

*Just then, several camera crews and a bunch of reporters barged in. They all started talking at once while crowding Natasha, Bruce, and Victoria. Victoria starts crying.*

Random reporter: Everyone wants to know if it’s a boy or a girl! Why don’t you tell the people what they want to know?

Bruce: Huh? Why are you- she literally just- GET OUT! 

Other reporter: We’re allowed to be in here, Snow’s orders. Now, tell us if it’s a boy or a girl!

Bruce: My daughter is not an it!

First reporter again: You heard it here first. It’s a girl! Victoria Banner has officially been welcomed into the world. 

Bruce: Okay, will that be all? Because Nat should really be resting and-

A third reporter: We will decide when we’re done here. Now, let us see Victoria!

Bruce: Hey! You get that camera out of her face! You’re scaring her! 

Third reporter: Oh, how cute! She has her father’s hair, but her eyes are just like her mother’s. It’s a real shame she’s so loud. If she were quieter she’d be adorable.

Natasha: She was being quiet, then a bunch of people came in here unannounced! 

A fourth reporter: That’s a real shame. Where are those people now?

Natasha: Still in here asking me questions. 

*All of the reporters and camera crews laugh. They continue to ask questions until Bruce realizes how upset Natasha is getting.*

Bruce: I think it’s time for you to leave. *a few reporters try to argue* You asked your questions, now get out. 

*The reporters leave.*

Bruce: Are you okay?

Natasha: I’m tired and overwhelmed, not to mention my whole body hurts. But other than that I’m great.

Bruce: Maybe you should get some rest. *kisses her forehead* I’ll be sitting right here, okay? 

Natasha: Okay. 

*The next day, they went back home to 12 and everyone came by to meet Victoria.*

Melina: Well isn’t she just cute as a button? 

Alexei: She has your eyes, Natasha! And such wonderful dark hair! 

Wanda: Can I hold her next?

Natasha: *taking Victoria from Melina* Of course. Say hi to your Aunt Wanda!

Wanda: Aww, she’s so tiny! *Wanda starts bouncing slightly*

Pietro: She’s a baby. What were you expecting? 

Bruce: Okay, be careful. Don’t drop her. 

Wanda: *stops bouncing* I won’t. 

*Later, after everyone leaves but Fury, Maria, Wanda, and Pietro.*

Fury: Okay. *encases them in bubble* We make our first major strike next month, after you’ve had some time to recover and get back to normal. You guys will bring Victoria on the hovercraft because if you leave her home, she may be in danger. Those few days will hopefully be our first and last strike and we should be able to overthrow The Capitol. We’ve been tearing them apart from the inside, and now it’s finally falling into place. The key is to get them to destroy themselves. 

Natasha: And we’re starting with the weapons warehouse, right? 

Fury: Right. Be prepared for anything, physically and mentally. There is no way all of us are making it through this alive. 

Natasha: We’ll be ready. 

Wanda: Panem is about to enter a new era, and we’re ready to make sure it’s a change for the better

Bruce: I’m just as ready as these guys, but are you sure we have to bring Victoria?

Maria: It’s that or leave her behind without proper protection.

Bruce: If that’s the only way, I guess it works. 

*One month later, everyone was on the hovercraft. They got to the weapons warehouse and Daisy and Leo were sent inside to take plans and sabotage weaponry. Soon, The Capitol catches wind of it and schedules the destruction of the building. Leo gets out and onto the hovercraft in a timely manner.* 

Tony: We did it! The Capitol is going to destroy their own building!

Steve: I hate to rain on anyone’s parade, but that Daisy girl is still in there. 

Leo: What? She was right behind me!

Daisy (over her communication device): My leg is stuck under a bookshelf that fell while we were running. I’m not getting out of this. 

Daniel: No. No, we’re getting you out of there! *stands up* I’ll go in and get you!

Daisy: *the signal is breaking up due to the preparations for the incoming attack* No. I’m not worth that. Besides, you’ll never get us both out in time.  Just leave and win this revolution. You have to. *connection is lost* 

Daniel: Daisy?! Do you copy?! We lost her. 

Phil: We have to save her! I’m going in.

* A few people try to protest, but Coulson grabs a parachute and jumps down. He runs into the building. A moment later, the building and everything in it is completely obliterated.*

Mack: Yes! The Capitol destroyed its own warehouse!

Melinda: No. Nonononono. We have to get them out of there. 

Fury: We have to move along. This revolution is not going to win itself.

Daniel: But what about Phil and Daisy? They’re still in the building!

Grant: There is no building! It’s been reduced to rubble! We have to go.

Melinda: No, Phil has this talent. He never actually dies. He has to be alive, we have to get them out of there! 

Daniel: If it were any one of us down there, Phil and Daisy wouldn’t give up.

Fury: Maria, why don’t you handle this?

Maria: *sigh* In 12, we coal miners have a policy. We never abandon a mining accident until it’s completely hopeless. 

Melinda: See?! We can’t abandon them until this is hopeless!

Maria: That being said, we need to go. 

Melinda: What? No. It isn’t hopeless! We need to search the building!

Grant: What building?! The building is gone! They’re gone. 

Melinda: *holding back tears* We’re sure it’s hopeless? *Everybody but Daniel, Natasha, and Wanda nods.* Okay then. I- I need a minute. *runs to the next room in the hovercraft*

Daniel: *sobbing* No! We can’t leave them here! I don’t care about your stupid mining policy, this isn’t hopeless! *into his communication device* Daisy! Daisy Johnson, do you read me?!

Tripp: *sniff* She’s gone, Sousa. Give it up. This is going to be rough on all of us, but we can’t lose this now. You heard what Maria said. We wouldn’t be abandoning this unless it was absolutely hopeless.

Natasha: *also holding back tears* Maria forgot half of the policy.

Wanda: That’s right, she did. 

Maria: What do you mean?

Natasha: Clint always used to say that an accident is never hopeless until every last miner loses hope. If he were here, we’d keep looking.

Fury: Barton’s been dead for two years! Stop acting like he’d be saying anything if he were here right now! 

Natasha: Just one quick scan. That way, we’ll know for sure if anyone is still breathing under that rubble. 

Peggy: *pressing the scan button* I guess it couldn’t hurt to- well, would you look at that! One survivor, female, about 19 years old. DNA match for Daisy Johnson. 

Daniel: I’ll get her! *tries to run out of the hovercraft*

Gamora: You might want to use a parachute. 

Daniel: Right. 

*Once Daisy was back on the hovercraft, they put her on the bed in the medical area and dealt with her injuries. Daniel sat next to the bed and waited for her to wake up.*

Daisy: *opens her eyes* Huh? What happened?

Daniel: You’re alive! I mean, obviously we knew you were breathing but we weren’t sure if you were going to wake up. What’s the last thing you remember?

Daisy: The warehouse. I was stuck under the bookshelf and Coulson threw a soundproof bubble at me and encased me in it. Then everything went black.

Daniel: That must be what protected you from the initial explosion. After that, you must have been hit by falling rubble or something. 

Daisy: Wait, where’s Coulson? I don’t see him here in the medical area, so what happened to him? 

Daniel: I’m so sorry, I know he was like a father to you.

Daisy: *sits up* He’s dead?!

Daniel: Please lie back down, we don’t know if it’s safe for you to be sitting up-

Daisy: *tearing up* So he died to save me? You let him run into that building to get me unstuck? I’m not worth that! You should have left me there! You all should have left me there! I told you to go!

Jemma: Everyone tried to convince him to stay on the hovercraft, but he went in anyway. 

Daisy: You should have tried harder!

Bruce: Daisy, lie down. We need to check you for a concussion. *Daisy reluctantly complies*

Daniel: We couldn’t just leave you there. You would have been killed. 

Daisy: Next time, let me die. 

[iamnotbrianmay]

"where are you taking me" with whoever you want! just make it sad!

This is a sort of sad one folks.... tw: mentions of natural death (past) 

Brian jumped into the car without hesitation once John told him that he was going to visit his father and that he wanted Brian to meet him. They had been dating for nearly six months, and it felt like a big step to meet this allusive father of his. He had just met John's mother a few nights before, and judging by the fact that there were no pictures of John's father anywhere around the house, Brian had guessed they were divorced. 

Sex and band practice had gotten in the middle of him asking John what had happened between his parents, and now that he was in a car in the middle of a country road he couldn't help but think that maybe he should have done that first. 

He watched as the trees past by and took in the beautiful scenery as he tried to formulate the correct way to ask the question in his head. He had never really heard anything about John's father before, and he couldn't deny that going in blank was a terrible idea. 

"How should I call your dad?" 

For a second John turns to look at him with a quizzical look, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, should I call him sir, or by his name, or is he one of those people that has strict rules about how people should call him?" 

There is a second in which John looks like a deer caught in headlights, then he sighs, "Just by his name will be alright, he hates it when people call him sir. He says it makes him sound old." 

"Do you think he will like me?" Brian starts to fidget with the cuffs of his shirt, nervous about meeting John's parents for the second time this week. 

John, gives him a sad little smile, "Yeah, I think he will love you." 

There is a tenseness in the air that he hadn't felt before, and Brian decides that maybe John is just as nervous, so he leaves the topic alone for now. He tries and fails miserably to try to calm his nerves, but John's cryptic answers have him on edge. Maybe John's dad is terribly ill? Or perhaps he is homophobic, and John will introduce him as just a friend, and he is nervous about being caught in the act by his father.

He doesn't really know what to expect apart from the fact that he wants to be called Arthur and not sir. At least he has that, and he won't make a fool out of himself in that aspect. 

He misses the rest of the ride as his brain makes up a thousand different scenarios of how things will transpire with John's dad, and nearly misses when they pull up into a cemetery.

The turn of events shock him enough to make his usually sharp brain ask possibly the stupidest question ever, "Where are you taking me?" 

John doesn't dignify that question with an answer, and instead parks the car in one of the many lots, before turning to look at Brian, "To meet my dad." 

They buy white roses before entering the cemetery grounds, and Brian trails after John lost as to what to do or say now that it's obvious what is happening. He feels immensely shitty now for not asking him about his dad beforehand, even more so now that he is in a cemetery dressed in a colourful t-shirt and white bell-bottomed pants. Brian wants the earth to swallow him whole. 

They come to a stop in front of a well-kept stone, adorned with flowers of all kinds, chocolates, small gifts and even a book. Said book looks to be in bad shape, probably from the rain and exposure to sunlight, so John reaches over and grabs it before taking another book from his coat pocket. 

Brian should have known something was up when John showed up to his house, dressed entirely in black, but he had never expected this. 

Once the flowers and the book has all been set, and the small cobwebs which had started to build upon the grave were pushed aside, John kneeled in front of it and lowered his head. His long brown hair was falling down the sides of his face, covering it completely, and Brian didn't know if it would be prudent to tuck it behind his ears. 

"Hello, dad," he whispered, loud enough for Brian to her if he strained his ears enough, "I'm sorry I haven't been around as much recently, but I've started a band, and it has sort of taken all of my spare time." 

Brian waited for a few seconds, terrified of making a wrong move of somehow offending John. He would not like to do any of those things, so he just waited for his boyfriend to resume talking. 

"Mom and Julie have been great this past few months. But you already knew that, didn't you? Julie came down here a few weeks ago. I hope you liked the read." 

He could start to see John's strong facade crumbling. His voice was beginning to crack, and his words were becoming mumbled, even more so than they had been before. Still, he continued talking with his dad. 

Brian was not exactly a religious person, but at that moment, he hoped that Arthur Deacon was listening to the man talking to him. Then the part in which John introduced him came, and Brian felt dizzy with nervousness. It was weird, knowing that his father's boyfriend was not alive but still being deadly afraid of what the man might think about him, it was driving Brian mad. 

"I came here to say that—" John cleared his throat, "I told mom and Clare about our little secret. They were surprised, but nothing bad happened, just like you said it wouldn't all of those years ago. I'm sorry I didn't believe you, but I definitely am not sorry that I told you back then. Especially because now I get to introduce you to my boyfriend and I know that you would love him. I don't know what I would do if that were uncertain, I'd probably wouldn't even have a boyfriend in the first place. So thank you."

John turned back to Brian and extended his hand towards him. Brian gladly took it and crouched right beside John. He certainly wasn't going to talk to John's father, mainly because he didn't know what to say, but he would be there for him is John wanted him to be there. 

"This is Brian May. He is that respectable kind of man that you talked about me having as a boyfriend when I came out to you. He is an astrophysicist and currently working on his PhD, he is the guitarist of my band, and quite probably the love of my life." 

Brian turned to look at John at that moment, eyes wide in surprise. It's not that they hadn't declared their undying love for each other before, but listening to John saying it like it was the most natural, and obvious, thing in the world made something inside Brian curl up in happiness. It might have also had something to do with the fact that he was saying it in front of one of the most important people in his life. 

"Now dad, I know you will never be able to threaten my boyfriend or walk me down the aisle as we had talked, but I hope that wherever you are, you can see me be the happiest man on the planet." 

Brian didn't notice when he had started crying, only that when he reached over to scratch his cheek, his hand came away wet. He looked at John, who in turn looked at him like he had hung the moon and the stars. It made his heart beat a thousand miles an hour, and something inside him unfurl to make room for the tremendous about of love that he felt for John at that moment. He turned back towards the grave, "Don't worry, Arthur. I will make sure to take care of your boy." 

He couldn't say much of anything else. It felt out of place to talk with his boyfriend's dead father, even if John had brought him here to meet the man. However, John didn't seem insulted by it in the slightest. Probably very aware of the fact that talking to the dead wasn't everyone's cup of tea. 

***

The morning after John had taken Brian to meet his dad, he felt a sort of weight lift of his shoulders. He had woken up the next morning feeling more refreshed than he had ever since he had started playing music with the boys, and it showed in the way that for the first time in what seemed like forever he hadn't felt like death by waking up before twelve. 

He wiggled out of Brian's embrace and walked out into the kitchen to find it alone. It wasn't uncommon, even less because it was Saturday at eight in the morning, but John still felt like the house was abnormally quiet. He made quick work of preparing his coffee and making breakfast for himself before taking it all to their, barely there, balcony to have breakfast in peace. He watched cars pass, people walk their dogs or jog down the street, and parents taking their children to school, as he slowly ate his scrambled eggs and enjoyed the morning breeze. 

For a second, he just wished that Brian was here to share this moment with him, just like he had been there with John yesterday when they had visited his father's grave. It wasn't often he let himself speak with the man more than a few words, he hated crying alone in the middle of a cemetery, but with Brian it had been different, it had felt different. Almost as if his dad was there to share the moment with them rather than John talking to a piece of stone and being painfully aware that he would never be there for him again. 

The door to the balcony opened, and Brian came out rubbing his eyes and looking for John like bugs to a lamp. The younger man instantly slid his chair back and let Brian curl on his lap like a cat, arms around his neck, head tucked into the crook of his neck and legs curled around his waist. John melted into the embrace, playing with Brian's hair as the older man willed his body and mind to wake up fully. 

"I missed you in bed," the statement was punctuated with a small kiss on the crook of his neck. 

John hugged Brian closer to him, "Sorry, I got restless." 

"'s okay," he said, "as long as you are okay." 

John chuckled at his boyfriend's sleeping response and made sure to hug him closer. Yesterday he had realised that he never had, in his 23 years of being alive and numerous relationships, been so sure about something like he was sure about Brian. Not even when he thought he was going to marry Veronica. 

"Mmm, John?" 

He pressed a kiss to Brian's shoulder, "Yes?" 

"Thank you for taking me to meet your dad yesterday. It meant a lot." 

He felt something in his heart settle in place; like a hole finally being filled or a crooked piece being put back where it belonged. It was both a wonderful feeling and somewhat painful but confirmed with crystal clear clarity about what he felt for Brian. 

"No, thank you for going with me. It meant the world."

They stayed like that for a few hours more, clinging to each other like koalas. John was even sure that Brian had fallen asleep at one point or another, but he wouldn't have it any other way. Not when he was so sure this was the love of his life.

[lurafita]

Obsession - Chapter 2

Again, to the people who don’t know how tags work, this is Starker. If you don’t like this pairing, then do not click on this story.

Thanks a lot to everyone who has liked, reblogged and reviewed the previous parts.

Which are here: Prolouge

and here: Chapter 1

Please inform me if you want to get tagged for the next part.

Tony is in a bit of denial in this chapter, which I have tried to indicate with this. If this striking through words makes it too hard to read for you, plese let me know, and I will try to think of something different. Though there aren’t too many sentences like it.

Obsession – Chapter 2

33 year old Pepper Potts was positively surprised, when her former boyfriend and current boss, dutifully read and then signed every paper she put in front of him.

After his little disappearing act the day before (something that happened quite frequently, if she were honest), she had expected him to be just as difficult as he normally was. Which wasn’t to say that Tony didn’t take his responsibilities seriously; but the genius had a rather extensive history of locking himself away in his personal lab, whenever company matters started to bore him. And since everything that didn’t directly involve his tech or other fields of his expertise usually bored him, Pepper really had her work cut out for her.

But today, Tony seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood, almost eager to get all the dreaded work done.

“Did something happen yesterday?” She asked, as he signed the contract before him with a flourish.

“Why do you ask, Pep?”

There was a chipper tone to his voice, that seemed fairly out of place considering he was doing paperwork.

“You just seem to be in a very good mood.”

Tony nodded, while reading through a proposal for a joined project with Hammer Industries. He was going to decline, of course, but it was always funny to see what Justin offered this time in hopes of enticing him into working together. Tony mentally scoffed. As if he would ever put his name on anything that amateur had had his hands on.

“I met someone.” Did it count as a meeting when Peter hadn’t even been aware of his presence? No matter, he still couldn’t contain the little smile at the thought of the brunette.

Pepper sighed. “Do I need to prepare the PR-Department for an upcoming sex video?”

Tony cringed. “Ouch. … Though, fair, I guess. But no. Don’t worry. We were fully clothed the whole time and all that happened was talking.” Peter had done all the talking, and if one wanted to get technical about it, it hadn’t been directed at Tony, but, whatever. Details.

He turned just in time to catch the surprised look on Pepper’s face, and grinned.

“Starting to believe my bad press, Miss Potts? Contrary to popular believe, I don’t sleep with everyone I meet.”

The strawberry blonde woman shook her head.

“I know that, Tony. It’s just… no, you are right. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, though I’m still angry at you for just running off like you did. There is a reason we employ personal security guards.” She finished and pinned him with a penetrating expression. He just grinned wider at her.

“I know. This new batch is actually pretty good. What was the team leaders name again? Bates? Balm? Anyway, it took me a whole hour to distract him long enough for me to put on my Non-Important-Person disguise, for short: NIP-d, if you will, and get out of the tower. He even found me when I was halfway on my way back. Pretty impressive. Maybe we should give him a raise.”

Pepper just sighed in defeat. “Barnes, Tony. His name is James Barnes. Natasha personally recommended him for the job. And he was not impressed with that stunt you pulled to ‘distract’ him, by the way.”

Since Natasha’s job as head of security contained some 'extracurricular activities’, which often times took her to various locations, someone else needed to be in charge of the security in place not only at Stark Industries, but also to all of the people in higher positions and of course, Tony Stark himself. James Barnes had come highly recommended by Natasha, and if a woman who could kill you 27 different ways with a toothpick recommended someone to you, you didn’t ask questions and just fucking hired them.

Tony hummed in acknowledgment as he started on the last paragraph of the proposition. A few seconds went by in silence.

“It suits you, you know? Being happy. Are you planning on seeing them again?”

Hopeful anticipation filled him at the thought.

“I am.”

Then he grabbed Hammer’s proposal and handed it back to Pepper.

“Shredder this and send Justin a 'Better luck next time’ E-mail, would you? Anything else on the agenda for today?”

She accepted the papers and after a quick glance at her phone, shook her head.

“No, you are done for now. Wow, that was quick. Do I get to meet this person who apparently inspires you to actually do your work?”

She asked with a playful grin. Tony couldn’t help the smile that stole over his lips as he imagined introducing Peter to her. The younger man would be pressed into his side, with Tony’s arm around that narrow waist, and probably blushing.

“Sure. One day. If things go well and all.” He did need to introduce himself to Peter first, after all.

“I’m looking forward to it. Enjoy the rest of your day, Tony.”

And with those parting words, she left his office. He waited until he couldn’t hear the sounds of her heels clicking against the tiled floors anymore, before he addressed the room.

“Jarvis, commence project 'Baby Boy’. Let’s continue where we left off this morning.”

“Certainly, Sir.” Came the voice of the artificial intelligence Tony had created and installed not only in Stark Tower, but all of his other properties as well. “Also, I would like to inform you, that I have decided against reminding you that you haven’t slept ever since you started with your research, 22 hours and 18 minuets ago. Which makes it a total of 33 hours and 37 minutes that you have been awake. As previous instances have shown that trying to encourage you to keep a healthy sleeping schedule, have been ultimately futile efforts on my part, I will decline from further fruitless endeavors.”

Tony blinked in slight surprise. “Since when were you so passive-aggressive? You have been listening to Pepper too much. How about this then? We will give it another hour and 23 minutes, make it an even 35 hours without sleep, before I go and lie down like a good boy.”

The A.I. seemed to agree with his terms, as all around him, different holo screens popped up, all displaying various information about one Peter Benjamin Parker.

It had started smaller.

Innocent.

Only one screen, displaying Peter’s student credentials on Berkeley’s web page.

When Tony had made it back to his penthouse in the tower, after numerous promises and assurances that he would inform someone if he wanted to go for a stroll again, (all of which were lies, naturally) he had started with his research right away.

He had just wanted some facts, a point to start at. Full name, age, address, marital status. (It wouldn’t be completely unheard of for a college student to be married already, after all.) Peter wasn’t!

However, after he had gotten the answers to these most prominent questions, he had still felt… unsatisfied.

Just because Peter wasn’t married, didn’t mean that he wasn’t currently in a relationship. Though would it really matter if he was?

He had shaken his head then, thinking that he was getting way ahead of himself. He had only spent a little more than an hour in Peter’s presence, of which the other hadn’t even been aware of, and he was already contemplating how to deal with possible rivals? It was ludicrous!

Yes, the younger man was attractive (and smart, and empathetic, and insightful, and charming, and witty), but that didn’t mean that Tony wanted to start a relationship with him. (Oh, who was he kidding?)

Didn’t even mean he wanted to sleep with him. (No, really, who was he fucking kidding?)

So after this blessedly short mini meltdown, Tony decided that he needed to acquire more information to properly deal with his infatuation situation. And thus, Project Baby Boy was born.

After all the official records, it took no time at all for him to find Peter’s Facebook, Instagram and Tumblr accounts. Social media was a glorious thing. It made you bare some of your innermost, private thoughts and feelings to a world of strangers, without you ever realizing that you were doing it. Every post, every like, every picture and every comment the brunette made, slowly unveiled who Peter really was to Tony’s hungry eyes. As the hours had gone by, the genius billionaire found himself more and more enamored with the (single!) 24 year old. Between dorky science jokes, geeky Star Wars and other sci-fi posts, and a truly astounding amount of dog and cat pictures, Peter was revealing himself to be quite an intriguing individual.

He studied bio-chemistry as a main field, with a bit of bio-engineering and health and medical sciences on the side. There was a clear indication of the type of profession sweet Peter wanted to get into. Thinking back on the conversation in the diner, Tony wasn’t surprised. The younger man had been incredibly enthusiastic about the future of medicine and how he would one day be able to help people. It definitely explained why Tony Stark was only number 6 on Peter’s tumblr list of ‘The 10 greatest scientists alive today’. Since Peter was more into the squishy sciences (Tony wasn’t squeamish - he had had someone else’s blood on his person far too often for such sensitivities - but he preferred a circuit board and wires over organs and skin tissue any day), it made sense that the billionaire, genius mechanic Tony Stark, wasn’t on the top his list. (Still a bit of a blow to the ego, though) At least Peter had placed him before that insufferable ass, Reed Richards!

(And hey, it was a ranking based on corresponding interest in scientific avenues. Tony would soon be in the first  and only  place of ‘Scientist who regularly rocks my world’)

He was also a bit of a hobby photographer, it seemed, as Peter had uploaded many photos taken of friends, animals, sunsets, buildings and plants. Sometimes a photo would showcase a particular play with lighting and shadows, other times special camera filters would highlight different focus points in a picture. Tony may not be a great artisan, but he could appreciate talent.

He also found a short video clip in which one of Peter’s friends (the internet handle was ‘guy-in-the-chair’) had filmed Peter’s, frankly adorable, reaction to being served some monstrously sugary kind of dessert. The video’s caption had read 'Orgasm by Marshmallow stuffed chocolate Cupcake’, and to the inventors utter delight, it included 11 seconds of Peter taking his first bite and actually looking like he was having a tiny orgasm right then and there. Complete with eyes widening before rolling back into his head, and a moan that couldn’t be described as anything else but sinful. (Tony might have re-watched those 11 seconds more times than he cared to admit, while imagining the younger man lying naked and stretched out underneath him, on the silken sheets of Tony’s bed, moaning for a very different reason.)

He found only a few other video’s similar to this. Apparently Peter had a major sweet tooth – which Tony could think of various ways to exploit – and his friend had obviously thought it great fun to film him eating things that would send any diabetic into an early grave.

He had Jarvis save every one of those videos into a private folder, for his personal viewing pleasure. (Oh, and what a pleasure it was. Though the cupcake video was definitely his favorite, the one in which his darling Peter all but went down on a deep fried Mars bar, was a very close second.)

While Tony certainly would have liked to add even more to his collection, he was grateful that only a handful of such videos existed.

He didn’t like the thought of others seeing his Peter like this.

While most of the comments beneath the videos were obviously from friends and acquaintances, who either teased the brunette about his sweet tooth, or commented on the foods themselves, others had been… less PG.

Other people shouldn’t get to think about him like that.

Thinking back on it now, Tony contemplated if maybe he should take the videos down himself. He had already saved away his own copies of them.

Keep him them to myself.

Maybe later.

Right now he wanted to keep going, there was still so much to learn about the cute college student.

Tony knew that life hadn’t been very kind to Peter. He had been orphaned at six, mother and father dying in a plane crash. Taken in by his aunt and uncle, May and Ben Parker. Seven years later, Ben Parker had been shot in a robbery gone wrong, and if the police report that Tony had hacked was to be believed, Peter had been an eyewitness to the murder.

It was humbling in a way, to think that someone who had been forced to endure so much trauma at a young age already, could grow into the bright 24 year old man that the genius had met just yesterday.

Jarvis had also pulled some older records, that showed that the two remaining Parkers had been left in quite a lot of debt after Ben’s passing. (Well, Tony assumed the amount of debt was a lot for regular people. His bed had actually cost more than the number presented to him.)

May Parker, Peter’s aunt, was a nurse in Queens General Hospital. (Which could have possibly inspired the boy’s chosen field of study) Peter had taken on two part time jobs as soon as he was out of highschool – which Tony concluded were used to help pay the bills, since he was a scholarship student at Berkeley and still lived with his aunt.

“Jarvis, run a calculation. Considering the regular costs of rent and other living expenses, how long will it take the Parkers to pay back what they owe?”

“Keeping in mind the expected rise in interest rates, taxes and insurance, it will approximately take May and Peter Parker 31 years to eradicate their debt. This number is likely to change if Mr. Parker pursues a higher paying profession after finishing his education.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully.

“Still, that’s not for a few more years yet, especially if Peter wants to go for a Master and Doctor degree after he has finished with his Bachelor.”

This could work in his favor.

While Tony loathed people who wanted to use him only for his money, he liked to spend it on the ones he cared about.

Liked taking care of those who deserved it.

He let his gaze be caught by one particular screen, that displayed a photo of Peter Jarvis had pulled from the younger’s Instagram. In it Peter was outside, the sun shining brightly above him, in only a loose t-shirt and cut off jeans. A black cat was cradled in his arms, and he was smiling brightly at the camera. Tony re-read the text underneath the picture. 'This gorgeous lady decided to join Ned and I on our walk to A heart has four paws shelter today.’ (Because despite his two jobs and being a scholarship student at one of the tier universities in this country, Peter still made the time to volunteer at an animal shelter. Tony was starting to worry if the precious boy even slept anymore)

Peter most certainly deserved to have someone take care of him.

“You have received a text message from Miss Romanoff, Sir.” Jarvis voice interrupted his thoughts jarringly.

“What’s it say, J?” He didn’t think she had encountered any problems with her mission.

“It states ‘Mission accomplished. On my way back.’, Sir. Do you wish to give her any further instructions`?”

“No. Tell her good job and to treat herself to some sight seeing if she likes. Not every day one get’s to visit Rome. Well, unless you are me, of course.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Would Peter like to go to Rome? It was said to be one of the most romantic cities in the world, wasn’t it? Maybe keep that in mind for a second date.

“It has now been 35 hours since you last slept. As per your own-”

“Yes, yes, I know. Stop yapping at me, J.” He threw his hands up in surrender. “Save everything we have so far into my private folder. Separate the videos and photos of Peter into their own. Also, make sure I have some free time tomorrow when Peter is on his way back home from that restaurant he works at. I plan on running into him, completely coincidentally, of course.”

“Of course, Sir.”

For the first time in a long time, the idea of sleeping didn’t seem like a necessary inconvenience. He was looking forward to what his imagination could come up with, after those videos.

What sweet dreams he was about to have.

The next morning, the news were overflowing with reports of Norman Osborns demise. The business man had been on vacation in Rome, and suffered a fatal heart attack. He had apparently mixed up his medication. It was a tragic accident.

tbc..

@itfeelssogoodmrstark @starkravingspiders @spadestorm696 @diamondheart31 @the-neon-demon  @unknownshadyperson

[swissmissficrecs]

Johnlock Advent Calendar, Part 2

Back in 2014, I posted a Johnlock Advent Calendar of 24 fic recs related to Christmas. There have been a lot of good ones posted since then, so it’s time for part 2! 1. a good old-fashioned happy ending (32731 words) by darcylindbergh Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: And Sherlock stands there, in the middle of a Christmas market as John hums along to Silent Night, John’s hand warm in his with fingertips a little gritty from the cinnamon-sugar doused churros they’d shared, and thinks, oh, that’s–that’s an idea, isn’t it? For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves.

2. A Party on Christmas Eve (15729 words) by PoppyAlexander Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: A collection of ficlets for December, prompted by MissDavis in her 2018 Advent Ficlet Challenge. John and Sherlock first meet when John moves into 221C Baker Street. Will romance bloom before a party on Christmas eve? (spoiler alert: Yes, it will. Of course it will.) I'm going to try to cram in all our favourite holiday fic tropes here, too. Enjoy!

3. a vein of frost (58023 words) by Zingiber Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, John Watson/Original Female Character(s) Summary: As winter falls over London, Sherlock finds himself struggling to cope with a five-year-old goddaughter, a bizarre series of holiday-themed murders, and a new woman in John's life. Written for the Sherlock December Ficlet Challenge.

4. Another Auld Lang Syne (30234 words) by DiscordantWords Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Mrs. Hudson (Sherlock Holmes), Molly Hooper, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade Additional Tags: Christmas, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining Sherlock, Pining John, Post-Season/Series 04, First Kiss, Holidays, Winter, Advent Calendar, Past Drug Use, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Ficlet Collection, Drinking, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss Summary: There had been years of missed chances.

5. Breaking Christmas (18606 words) by MissDavis Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Join me in some established relationship Johnlock as I attempt to make Sherlock and John participate in some Seasonal Fucking Cheer. Chapter 18: John's New Year's Eve Appointment: In which John finally comes around to Sherlock's point of view that the pleasure derived from a bit of body piercing far outweighs any risks involved.

6. Christmas Time After Time (41543 words) by PlaidAdder Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mary Morstan/John Watson, Clara/Harry Watson Summary: John's not really big on Christmas; and this year, the first after Mary's death, he's not feeling it. Everyone's away, Sherlock's on a case--alone--and Rosie's asleep. But that's all right. He's fine. He'll just have a quiet Christmas Eve by himself, drinking in front of the telly.  Only out there in time and space, there's another Doctor who thinks that sounds like the saddest thing ever. And she's going to do something about it. Thirteen takes John on a whirlwind tour of Christmases past and future. The more he learns about this time travel thing, the more John starts to wonder how his current timeline became...what it is. Might these alternatives hold the key to a less miserable present, and maybe a brighter future?

7. Christmas With You (23081 words) by MissDavis Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Watch Sherlock, John and Rosie over the years as they celebrate the season as only they can.

8. Elementary, Actually (26526 words) by blueink3 Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Just back from the war, 26-year-old John Watson is looking for a job. Luckily, his old buddy Mike Stamford has one in mind: “Mike, you did not tell me this was a porno.” “What? It’s not!” “No? Then why the hell am I being asked to eventually take my kit off and mount some kid who barely looks like he’s out of secondary!” He expects Mike to be angry or indignant on his behalf, but what he does not expect is for the man to burst out laughing on the other end of the phone. “Mike!” “Sorry, sorry. Are you serious? Frankie told me it was an art house/independent type but I thought he meant Little Miss Sunshine, not Eyes Wide Shut!”  “Oh my God, Mike, I’m going to kill you.” Or, what happens when the author watches Love Actually with Johnlock in mind.

9. Five Christmases that went wrong and one that didn't (11685 words) by love_in_mind_palace Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: John isn’t sure about most of the things in his life. Except for the fact that he loves Sherlock, Sherlock loves him back and that after years of bad luck, he is getting the Christmas he always deserved.

10. Ghost Stories (22256 words) by SwissMiss Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

11. Ghosts (14752 words) by orphan_account Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: A dead man is haunted by ghosts at Christmastime and, together, they help bring him back to life

12. Home for Christmas (19499 words) by SilentAuror Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: It's been eleven months since Eurus Holmes happened, and just one since John and Rosie moved back into Baker Street at last. With Christmas just around the corner, both Sherlock and John are slightly baffled when Mrs Hudson decides to give them a slow cooker as a "house-warming present"...

13. I Just Want You for My Own (166706 words) by cwb Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Sherlock and John head home from their respective schools for the winter break.

14. In Bed (46922 words) by Ellipsical Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: The sequel to Guilty Secrets. How do the sons of silent, bitter houses love? Like this.

15.  Johnlock Advent 2018 (47773 words) by sussexbound Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Some of you may remember the 2017 Johnlock Advent. It was a collaboration between @honeybeelullaby, @chained-to-the-mirror, and myself. @honeybeelullaby provided the wonderful prompts, @chained-to-the-mirror drew pictures based on those, and I wrote a ficlet for each one. It was a real blessing for all three of us then, so… IT’S BACK!!

16. Let Nothing You Dismay (13326 words) by OpalJade Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: For lack of a better Christmas gift idea, John makes a booklet of redeemable coupons for Sherlock. 17. Merlot (14844 words) by Itsallfine Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: “Because you’ve been through enough. The both of you have been through so much, and it’s time to just be happy, okay?” she continued, rather more gently. “It’s time. You asked for my help, and I’m giving it. Let yourself be happy, Sherlock Holmes.” Sherlock and John work toward becoming something more as they prepare to host the Holmes parents at 221B for the holidays. Written for the 25 Days of Fic-Mas 2015 challenge on tumblr. Chapter 16 is the only explicit one and can be easily skipped. The rest of the fic is rated T.

18. Oh, my friends, it's been a long hard year (11914 words) by splix Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mr. Chatterjee/Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock Holmes' Father/Mummy (Sherlock) Summary: Christmas is rubbish this year.

19. Points (53791 words) by lifeonmars Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: The little things are infinitely the most important. -- "A Case of Identity," Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

20. Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Missing Christmas Spirit (15002 words) by SilentAuror Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: John hates Christmas. So does Sherlock, but he suggests that they do Christmas "properly" this year to see if they can't track down its elusive magic and discover for themselves what Christmas is supposed to be about.

21. The Adventure of the Crossed Streams (23239 words) by mydwynter Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: I scowled, annoyed as usual by Holmes's intrusion on my privacy. I was afraid that some day he might read something more telling, something more dangerous, and that in uncovering the truth he would ruin our intimate friendship for good. "I’m not exactly feeling up to scratch this morning, Holmes." "And yet your eyebrows continue their semaphore." Christmas Eve day. Come mid-morning, Holmes and Watson find themselves with three gifts, two cases, and one mild hangover. If they're lucky, they won't be additionally burdened with a partridge in a pear tree—though with the direction everything is heading, Watson wouldn't bet against it.

22. To the Gold of Frankincense through Myrrh (10031 words) by sideris Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: After Sherlock's imprisonment for the murder of Charles Augustus Magnussen, he's released on licence into Mycroft's care. It's December and when Mycroft asks him what he'd like for Christmas, there's only one answer. "John."

23. The Holiday Cycle (115450 words) by flawedamythyst Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherrinford Holmes/Molly Hooper Summary: “If we vote to allow you to be an exception to the law, you will celebrate every holiday,” said Father Christmas. “With as much enthusiasm as you can." John and Sherlock made a deal so that Sherlock could come home. Now it's time for them to uphold it.

24. The Key (11689 words) by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, James Sholto/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/Victor Trevor Summary: Six months after the tarmac scene, John gives his key to 221B Baker Street back to Sherlock, deciding he needs a clean start -- but there's too much left unresolved for that to easily happen. (I wrote this purely for the feels, wondering what would happen if John walked away after all the trauma of S3... You know they can't stay apart, but what might happen in between?)