#and honestly my beef is not with him. I’m glad he’s using his fame and whiteness in a productive way but how many brown people have to die

[cherrysnax]

and maybe im sensitive and maybe im easily agitated and maybe im reminded how little of us it really is on this website but seeing white mfs call this place the white website without a sense of irony or shame is pissing me off

[anotheronechicagobog]

Rangers, Lead the Way

Written by: @anotheronechicagobog

Warnings: Swearing, canon compliant violence, I had to use a lot of material from the actual episode, mention of domestic abuse

tagging: @detectiveinchicago​

A/N: So, this is a new series. Basically, OA Zidan (FBI), Jay Halstead (Chicago PD), and Kenny Crosby (FBI: Most Wanted) all went to Ranger training together and kept in touch, something that was useful when they couldn’t be the one to keep their ‘partner’ safe and need to call one of the others for assistance when their ‘paartners’ are temporarily working with another member of the trio.

OA wasn't a name that he'd heard in a long time. They weren't in the same unit but they were in Rangers training together. Jay was one of the only two people there who didn't have it out for him solely because of his religion, while he was shocked to find a Muslim among the ranks at first, he quickly got over it. Not only did he trust that his superiors wouldn't let a terrorist into the army at all, let alone Ranger training, but OA was a U.S. citizen, and had a very personal hatred for everyone who sullied the name of Islam and used it for violence and their own personal gain. So he and Kenny Crosby befriended OA despite the shock and ignorance from their brothers and sisters in arms. They studied together, trained together, ate together, and bunked together. When they'd all been given different assignments they made sure to stay in touch. And they continued to call, email, and text each other after they'd all been discharged.

When Hailey got temporarily assigned to New York Jay was... Well, it's hard to describe how he felt. It was such a nightmarish combination of devastated, terrified, and heartbroken. It was like an icy hand had enclosed around his throat and was slowly squeezing, painfully closing his throat, all while his heart was being dissected out of his chest by another. Not only was he reliving one of the most traumatic moments of his life all over again, but Hailey was going to be in the field without him. She was going to be in danger without him there to watch her back.

And since Hailey was amazing, she could tell just by looking at him that his mind was dropping down into a dark place faster than Alice tumbled into Wonderland. "It's just temporary. And I'll be okay, Jay."

"Hailey..."

"I'm going to put in my time and come back as quickly as possible. It's okay. It's all going to be okay." Hailey's words didn't reassure him in the slightest. How could they, when they didn't even reassure Hailey?

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"Special Agent Zidan."

"Hey OA, it's Jay."

"Hey man, how are you?"

"Honestly, not great."

"What's wrong?"

"My- uh my partner..."

"Hailey Upton."

"Yeah. She's getting detailed out to the FBI for a bit. I found out that she's getting assigned to your unit."

"That makes sense, my partner's doing a UC detail right now, we'll probably be partnered together."

"OA... Watch out for her. Please. She is strong and more than capable of defending herself, and you quite frankly, but- she's my- I..."

"Don't worry, Jay. I'll have her back. She'll make it back to you."

"Thank you. Seriously, you have no idea how much this means to me."

OA looked at the now-empty desk that had been causing his heart to ache at the sight of it. His shoulder sagged at the pain that was pulling in his chest, the dark fog that filled his mind whenever he started to think, started to wonder, caused his head to throb. "Actually, I know exactly how you feel."

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"You will be partnered with Agent Zidan."

"Hi, I'm OA."

"Hi. Hailey."

"Nice to meet you."

"You too."

"Listen up, everyone. This is Detective Hailey Upton from Chicago PD. She will be with us for the next few weeks as part of our interagency training program."

"All right, so let's, uh, direct our attention to the screens here. Found the body of a young John Doe in St. Nicholas Park. A hundred yards from Alexander Hamilton's house. Federal land, federal case- and no, it is not where Aaron Burr shot him. The famed duel took place in-- anyone, anyone? Weehawken, New Jersey. Kristen knew. Unfortunately, there's far less clarity in the present homicide case. Evidence of torture and abuse, the victim was brown-skinned, but there was no other evidence of a hate crime. So let's dig in, get to work, start filling in the blanks. Yeah? Go."

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

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"So, Chicago PD? Should I be nervous?"

"Nervous?"

"You guys have been in the news a lot and not for good reasons."

"Uh, yeah, we've had some issues, but they're being addressed. It's a great place. I'm proud to be a part of it. The next time you want to insult me, just come out and say it, you don't need to disguise it as a compliment. This car right here?"

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's just my way of saying we do things differently here."

"Mhmm."

"Just trying to keep it real." And keep you from getting hurt so that Halstead doesn't develop a full head of grey hair. "So, you spend much time in New York?"

"Nah, first time here."

"Any early observations?"

"Pizza's too thin. It's like a cracker with sauce on it. Just trying to keep it real."... Okay, so maybe it would've been nice if Jay had warned him that she had an axe to grind, but he could make do.

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"If I hear you're harassing any more immigrants, I'm gonna come back here, and I'm gonna break your arm. Do you understand?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

"I forwarded Kristen the pictures of Aman. She'll get us a street block number based on the license plates in the background."

"Just like that, huh?"

"The FBI, Upton. Our tech resources are pretty sick. Look, it's not a big deal, but now that you're working with us, just try and be a little bit more careful. If that guy Prichard calls the Bureau complaining that you threatened to use force..."

"Look, man, I don't need a lesson on how to talk to people, all right?"

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't get me wrong. I have no problem with someone breaking that idiot's arm, it's just... It's just that the Bureau is hardcore, and they take that stuff really seriously."

"You're right. I'm sorry. If he files a beef, I'll eat it and make sure you're clear. All right?"

"Appreciate that. But what the hell's a beef?"

"It's an expression."

"I'm kidding. Kristen said Aman's house is around this area."

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So, Hailey is a badass. That was pretty damn cool to witness. Sidenote; Jay is going to murder him.

Hailey was fine, more than fine, she actually saved his ass. But that didn't matter, Jay had trusted him to protect Hailey and hadn't failed, but he hadn't done the best job either.

They'd been searching a house, and after coming down the stairs he completely missed an assailant in the kitchen. But Hailey hadn't. No, she saw him and got him out of the line of fire. He provided cover fire while she jumped back over to the wall at the end of the stairs. OA tensed, more than usual when he was in a firefight unless Maggie was- nope, not going there, the point is, he didn't miss the way a bullet penetrated the wall a few centimetres from Hailey's head.

"Halstead."

"Don't be mad-"

"Oh god-"

"Hailey's fine. One-hundred percent fine, not even a scratch. We just, uh, we got into a shootout with an assailant. He got a shot off close to her head. She's fine- more than fine! I swear! She actually saved my ass in that altercation! And I was covering her the whole time!"

"... That's it? That's a pretty normal day for us, OA. She's okay, you're okay... So, everything, is... Okay. And seriously, thanks again, man. I can't even begin to tell you how much this means to me. I know that she can take care of herself and the others around her, but it's hard when I'm not the one there to have her six. So I really appreciate that I know and trust the person who is."

"Well, I'm glad that you're not gonna come at me like you did when I stole one of the cookies your mom made from your care package."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want a repeat of that."

"Plus, I know how it feels to... Not know. My partner is under right now and..."

"You're going out of your mind?"

"More than you can believe. I can't eat or sleep, and every time my phone buzzes I think it's a death notification instead of an emergency call from work."

"Sounds like you've got your own Hailey. You'll have to introduce me to Maggie one day."

"Yeah, I will. And Ken's definitely gonna have to introduce Hana. We have heard far too much about her to not even be able to put a face to the name."

"Tell me about it. Sometimes I regret our 'no search' rule, but then I remember how much we embarrass each other."

"By the way, thank you."

"Huh? For what?"

"For saving my ass back there. In the house."

"Oh. Okay. Cool. You're welcome."

"Halstead, how much do get shot at, exactly?"

"Why are you asking?"

"She pushed me out of the path of a bullet and when I thanked her afterwards she treated it like it was nothing."

"... I mean, there's not exactly a whole lot I can do about people trying to kill us..."

"Jay. Dude."

"I can try to stop being 'idiotically reckless' as Hailey calls it, but I'm not trying to be a hero or a dumbass or anything, it's just that... If it's not me getting hurt..."

"...It's her."

"Yeah."

"We're both whipped, aren't we?"

"Oh, ridiculously whipped. The desk Sergeant at my precinct is constantly making fun of me for it."

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"Just got ballistics back on the slugs fired at OA and Upton. They match the bullets that killed Aman, but get this; they also match the bullets pulled from a drive-by murder victim two months ago."

"Could they ID a suspect yet?"

"Yeah, arrested him too. Name is Santiago Gonzalez, known associate of the Latin Players. He's being held at MDC pending trial."

"Latin Players. That's a Chicago gang."

"Hmm, looks like they're expanding."

"So the Latin Players killed someone, they get arrested, go to jail, and the gun

stays on the street."

"And the new owner uses said gun to kill Aman, a studious Indian engineering student?"

"Right. What are we missing? How are these two murders connected?"

"Have OA and Upton pay a visit to Inmate Gonzalez. Maybe he can help us answer that question."

"Right."

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"So this guy, Gonzalez, is originally from Chicago. Runs with the Latin Players, so maybe you should take the lead on this one. But go hard on him." Hailey and Gonzales were from the same city, same blood, this was her turf, and OA wanted to make sure that he abided by that.

"You want a reaction?" Hailey seemed to get exactly what he meant, what he wanted, but she also seemed hesitant, like she needed more than clarification. It was like she needed permission.

"A big one. Big enough to force him to call his people."

"I think I can do that." And just like that, she had a smirk in her voice and was walking ahead of him. OA could see the wheels turning in her head and a coolness to her features let him know that she'd come up with a game plan. He didn't know if he should be afraid or not.

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"Where's the gun you used in the drive-by?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." They were less than a minute into the interrogation and he was already annoyed. Why did these guys always have to be so smug? He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and just let Hailey do her thing, only popping in to keep the flow going. "One of your friends used it to kill a civilian last night."

"Used it again this afternoon on us. Fired off ten rounds."

"Like I said, I don't know what you're talking about." OA had to hold in a sigh.

"You're staring 20 to life on the case you're riding. Give us the name of the person you gave the gun to, and maybe I'll be able to get you a reduced sentence."

"Get my ass, blondie." OA quickly debated the pros and cons of stepping in. Honestly, this guy would probably just make him angrier with his smug attitude and sexist remarks, plus Hailey wasn't even phased. She was still in control, and she actually seemed a little... Bored.

"I'm not a fed like him. I'm Chicago police."

"So what?"

"Means I play by different rules. Also means I know the names of all the shot callers in the Latin Players. Tomorrow morning, we're gonna do a warrant sweep. Means a lot of people you know are gonna get arrested."

"That's not my problem."

"But it is. Because I'm gonna make sure that they know you are the snitch who gave them up."

"Now, you know nobody's gonna believe that."

"Really? Because in my experience, pissed-off bangers don't do their homework, and if they think you're a snitch, you're a snitch. In the street, rumours become facts like that."

"I'm done talking."

"Alright."

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"So you think he believed us?"

"I don't know. What?"

"Nothing, you just reminded me of my partner, Maggie, in there."

"Oh."

"In a good way."

"Then thank you."

"Can you cue up the audio feed?" The prison guard nodded back at OA and did as he asked.

"So where is your partner?"

"Uh, she is on an undercover assignment. That I know absolutely nothing about besides the fact that she is gone and unreachable."

"That's gotta be pretty tough."

"Yeah, but she's really good, so she'll be fine."

"We're up." The guard unmuted the computer and moved out of the way so that he and Hailey could see it clearly.

"Yo, just say the word, man. Chicago about to throw that heat."

"What are you talking about?"

Gonzalez sighed. "Police and FBI here sweating me, man."

"About what?"

"That piece that I left behind. I'm guess it's all connected to what happened on the night at Highbridge Park."

"All right, thanks for looking out."

"No doubt."

"Can you trace the number that he called?" OA was ansty, ready to get moving fast before their lead disappeared and from the honed in look in Hailey's eyes he could see she felt the same.

"Payphone up in Washington Heights." The prison guard was curt and efficient, exactly what they needed and OA was silently grateful.

"Okay. Thank you."

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"I'm guessing that's his girlfriend."

"Hold on. I talked to her at the park, right before we found Ernesto's body." From the way her body tensed OA could tell Hailey wasn't happy she'd let this girl slip through her fingers. He could tell her that it wasn't her fault, no one was even remotely aware of this connection, but he knew that was pointless. Any passionate law enforcement officer would beat themselves over something like this, himself included.

"Ah, and we have a hit off of social rec. Her name is Harper Quinlan, 23 years old, last known address is 84 Groton Street, Queens, New York."

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"Why were you at the park?" OA sat across from the young woman, dead set on getting all the information she knew. Arman's murder was quickly dissolving into a larger more horrifying crime and he was worried that the poor man who this had all started with would be forgotten and he didn't want to think about why that enraged him so much.

"I told you before. I was walking."

"Or was it to recover the glove that Lucas dropped after he killed his drug supplier?"

"I don't know anything about that."

"We have video of you in the driver's seat of Lucas' Range Rover at Highbridge Park the night that Lucas killed Ernesto Garcia, so you are now an official suspect in a murder investigation. That means no more lying, no more protecting your boyfriend. You either cooperate with us here and now, or you go to prison."

"I'm not gonna help you ruin Lucas' life. I just won't. He's a good person."

"Harper, good people don't sell drugs or kill people."

"Yeah, you don't know him like I do. He's so nice, and... he's sweet... He really loves me."

"Lucas isn't who you think he is, Harper. Protecting him will only get you and more innocent people hurt. Tell me why you think he was in the park that night."

"I'm not gonna help you."

"Are you listening to what I'm saying to you? You're a suspect in a murder investigation here. Lying to protect him makes this worse. You're putting more lives at risk. Be smart. Tell me why you were there that night. Harper, you don't need to go to prison for him." OA knew he wasn't getting anywhere and was trying to think of some other- any other method- to try and get Harper to talk, when Hailey burst into the room. She looked calculated, like she had a plan or idea that needed to be executed exactly or else the worst might befall those she was trying to protect. Which, if he read her character right, was everyone.

"Unlock it."

"What's going on?" Harper was just as confused as he was, but he knew better than to show it.

"Do it. Pull up your texts."

"Oh, my God."

"What does it say?" Hailey already knew, that much was obvious, but whatever was going on needed to be as brutally real as possible to Harper, and voicing it out loud would drive whatever was going on home for Harper.

"'Return the product, or he's dead. You have four hours. Tell your man to meet us at the place we did our first deal.' Oh, my- oh, my God." Harper's sobs quickly took up the space of the interrogation room, it didn't matter that she hadn't seen her father in so long, losing him would devastate her, and the Latin Players knew that well.

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"Let me take a run at her. I might have an angle to play." OA watched Hailey carefully, trying to make out was she was thinking, what angle she could possibly have, but he hadn't known her nearly long enough for any of that. There was this... Knowing glint in her eyes, and a sort of dark confidence had taken over her aura. She was confident in whatever plan she had, obviously, he just had no way of predicting what it was. In that moment, OA could really see what made Jay all twisted over her. She didn't look excited to break the accomplice of a drug dealer, or eager to impress the FBI. She looked like she was ready to get elbow deep in someone else's mess just for the sake of protecting as many people as possible with her quick wit and razor-sharp intelligence. So he just inclined his head and got ready to watch her work from the other side of the glass.

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"You're in a tough place right now, Harper. We have video of you at the scene of a murder, which makes you an accessory. You're looking at 15 to 20 years in prison. But if you cooperate, we can help you. We'll talk to the prosecutor, explain why you were there, help him understand the nature of your relationship with Lucas."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know what's going on. He hurts you, doesn't he?"

"No. That's not true. He's a good guy-"

"No, he's not. What are those bruises on your neck? You tried to cover them up, but I can see them. When you first met, I bet he was great. You guys hit it off, you had fun. He was everything you wanted. But then he started chipping away at your friends and your family. So you pop a pill to numb the pain and tell yourself everything's okay, just hoping that the abuse is gonna stop. Harper. It won't. I talked to your dad. He loves you very much. And he needs you right now. He's in a lot of danger. If these guys don't get their drugs back, they will kill him. The only thing that matters now is you helping us to find Lucas, so we can recover the drugs and find your dad." Watching Hailey in the interrogation room really was something else. From the slight waver of her tone, the palpable understanding in her voice that seemed to wrap a crying Harper in the first hug she's had in a long time, he could tell that she was exposing a pain-filled part of herself to this- this girl, this accomplice in drug dealing and murder. And still, she was able to remain professional and in control, and OA could honestly say that her incredible ability to do her job both made his heart ache for her and impressed him far more than he thought she would.

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They were in the surveillance van, waiting for Harper and the SWAT team to get in to place. What OA was itching to ask her was highly personal. He did not expect her to feel comfortable talking to him about it, but she'd given Harper some of her strength and after revealing something so heart-wrenching, the protective Egyptian older brother in him needed to make sure that she'd left enough for herself. "So, how do you know so much about abuse? I am sorry, I did not mean anything by that."

"No, it's fine. It's all good. Everyone becomes a cop for a reason. I guess that's mine."

"Uh, yeah."

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"Don't forget, Harper. He wants the cash to get out of town, but we need the location where he first met his dealer. That's where your dad is." OA nodded along to Hailey's instruction, keeping a critical eye on the emotionally distraught Harper.

"Babe. They took my father."

"What are you talking about?"

"That guy that you deal with, they grabbed my father and texted me that they're gonna kill him unless we return the drugs that you took."

"Oh, no, no. I can't- I can't do that."

"They took my father!"

"Look, I feel bad, but they will kill me. Oh, Jesus, don't-"

"Lucas."

"Don't give me the sad eyes look."

"Lucas."

"I'm screwed. Look, I gotta look out for me- for us, you understand?"

"Look, I need to know where you and Ernesto did your first deal 'cause that's where they wanna meet."

"I just told you, I'm not going-"

"I will go! I'll call my uncle. He has a lot of money. Maybe I can negotiate a deal or something."

"I gotta get moving, all right, so give me the money."

"Where did you meet him?"

"Stay strong." Hailey could see her waver, could see her lose her ground and need someone to keep her steady. "Location first, then give him the money."

"Lucas. Lucas. Lucas!"

"I'll call you later on, all right?" Lucas, being the selfish douchebag that he is, grabs the bag of money and moves to book it, leaving his girlfriend who needs him behind.

"Damn it. Move in now!" OA sounded the call and immediately all agents left their posts and honed in on Lucas.

"Lucas!"

"You lying sack of..." Lucas, in an effort to prove that he really is a stellar guy, pulls out a gun and starts shooting at the agents, causing panic and fear in the civilians around them. Really, Harper? This guy?

"Get down! Get down!" Hailey pulled Harper out of the line of fire and pushed her to the ground before covering her with her own body, amazing OA with her selflessness yet again. You really picked a good one, Jay.

"Move, move!"

"Drop it!" Scola had joined them when Lucas went for the kill, forcing OA to do the same. Only OA was a good shot, though.

"Lucas! Lucas! Lucas! Lucas..." Harper couldn't stop calling for him, and OA was certain that the only reason she hadn't crawled over to his body was that Hailey was holding her in place. "It's okay." Hailey seemed to be stuck on repeat, comforting Harper. OA personally couldn't see how someone who had been abused would mourn their abuser... But then again, he thankfully had never had to suffer through that. Unlike Hailey.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"Sounded like he was ready to hit the road, so I'm guessing his dope is close by. Nothing back here." OA went to the Range Rover with Scola to look for anything- finding the drugs would've been preferable, but as long as it was a tangible clue, they could call it a win.

"Yeah. There's nothing here either."

"Any luck?" Hailey approached them, her I-know-something-that-you-don't-but-don't-worry-I'll-tell-you plastered on her face.

"Nope. Nothing."

"You have the keys on you?"

"Yeah."

"Here, let me try something. Hop in. Shut the trunk." Hailey closed the driver's door, started the engine, pushed a button on the stereo and on the car door. A drawer illuminated by blue light opens, containing the missing drugs.

"I already pushed it. Nothing happened." Scola sounded mildly insulted, but OA just chuckled internally.

"Okay, Chicago." He was impressed, and he wasn't going to hide that. He was also going to give Jay a call later to tell him to ask her out already. There's no way a woman this amazing stays single for long.

"I have a CI who installs these things. Engine has to be on and doors closed in order for it to open."

"Okay, we got the dope. Now we just gotta figure out where to deliver it to."- OA

"Yep."

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"We have Lucas' texts from the phone he was carrying since Harper said he started doing business with the Latin Players about a month ago-" Kristen was leading their group of field agents and Jubal towards the front desks, explaining what she found, and while normally they would have totally enjoyed her explaining just how smart she is, things were a little time-sensitive.

"Yeah."

"We need to scrub that time period."

"There, on the 28th. There's a text that says, 'Meetings at 2. Let's do 9 instead of 8.'" One of the analysts pulled the info onto the computer screen in front of them, showing them the text records.

"'Let's do 9 instead of 8'? But the meeting's at 2:00. Is that some sort of code?" Jubal's mind was whirring away with Kristen's, figuring out exactly what it meant.

"Well, here's Lucas' GPS data from that day around that time." Kristen worked her magic so that Jubal could work his.

"All right, so from 1:37 to 3:12, he was in Brooklyn down by the river. Kris, can you zoom in? Get a more specific look at this. Yeah, over here. Can you drill down right there?"

"Okay."

"They met at 2:00 at a dock. Pier nine instead of pier eight. That's the meeting place." Scola voiced it out loud, like he was still in thought and hadn't had time to put all of the pieces in place internally first.

"There it is." Jubal's prideful voice made OA smirk.

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"We've got 67 minutes to get the drugs down to pier nine. Unfortunately, the guy we need to deliver the drugs is at the city morgue." Isobel voiced the dreadful obvious from her office, forcing them all to sigh and start their plan to catch Arman's killer from scratch.

"I'll go under as Lucas' friend. I'll give him the coke in exchange for Harper's dad." Hailey volunteered herself, but not with the same gusto she'd been working the entire case. Something was off and OA's 'spidey senses' were giving him no peace.

"No. These guys have done their homework. They're not gonna buy that." OA knew he made a good point, but he hoped that no one saw the way his shoulders went rigid.

"I get it, but I think I can pull it off."

"No, I agree with OA. It's too risky." Isobel agreed with him and OA felt like he could breathe again, he promised Jay that he'd watch her back, something he couldn't really do if he was watching her not with her. And if he were honest with himself, he'd become a little attached to her in the time they'd been partnered together, hoping that they would become friends.

"So we need a plan C."

"Let me do it. He's my father. I'm the one who got him into this awful situation. So let me do it. Let me do something meaningful. Something that will make me feel good about myself... Please. Gotta let me do it." Harper looked at Hailey, not even acknowledging the rest of the room.

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"You're gonna do great. Just follow the plan we laid out."

"He doesn't get the second bag until you see your father."

"Right. Got it."

"And if your dad's not at the meeting place, you tell the man to bring him there. He'll say no. You stand your ground." Hailey seemed to be offering more comforting advice.

"You have more leverage than you think. This dope is worth a lot of money, and that's all they really care about." While he seemed to be offering more calculated advice.

"It's okay to be nervous. They'd be suspicious if you weren't. You good?"

"I'm good."

"Okay."

"Okay. Here we go."

"Alpha team in position."

"Where's Lucas?" The gang leader, covered in tattoos was menacing as he approached.

"He sent me instead."

"And my product? There's only one kilo here."

"The other four are close by."

"Close by doesn't do me no good."

"Show me where my father is, and I'll get you the other four."

"Don't get cute with me, mama. I'll cut your throat. Go get my dope."

"Let's get ready to move in."

"No, no. Give her a chance."- Hailey was confident, but OA couldn't help but side-eye her. Wondering just what made her so sure.

"You trying to get your dad killed? 'Cause, that's what's happen if you keep playing."

"I need to see him."

"He's alive. I promise."

"I need proof."

"[whistles] Right over there, chica."

"Okay, we got eyes on the dad. We're good to go."

"Wait, wait, wait. Let's see if we can get him talking about Aman's murder. As soon as we see a weapon, we roll."

"Okay." OA knew that Hailey was smart, and she had been making great calls throughout this case, but he was still hesitant. An innocent man's life was in the balance, but he wanted justice for Arman too.

"Be a good girl, go get my dope. Do that, Big Papa walks. I'll go with you."

"So... So... How do I know you're not gonna kill me and my father once I give you the dope?"

"I don't kill civilians. Bad for business."

"You kill that Indian guy? He was a civilian."

"I try my best, but I'm not perfect, mama." Harper meekly retrieved the second bag from behind construction equipment.

"You did good, Harper." But 'good' wasn't enough for him. Suddenly a large silver gun was pointing at the middle of her forehead.

"FBI! Don't move!" OA lead the charge, coming out of hiding and announcing himself the second that they got confirmation that he murdered Arman they'd burst out of the van and beat SWAT to Harper, the Latin Players, and Harper's father.

"Drop your weapon now! Let me see your hands now! Put the gun on the ground! Step away! Put it down now!"

"Get on the ground! Get on the ground, now!"

"Dad!"

"Let me go! Dad! Dad! Dad!" Honestly, he didn't give the tearful father-daughter reunion much attention or thought, but he noticed that Hailey did, if only for a couple of seconds longer than necessary. He didn't know what to make of that, though.

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"Hey."

"Hey."

"I just filed my 302. Do you need help with yours?"

"Nah, I just finished."

"So, I have to admit, I wasn't so sure about you."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't sure about you either. But you're all right. For a fed."

"You wanna grab a beer?"

"I'm okay. You don't have to look after the new kid."

"I am pretty sure you don't need looking after. Come on, you saved my life. The least you can do is let me buy you a drink."

"For the tenth time, I didn't save your life. All right, let's grab a beer, but only if you tell me why you became a fed. I told you my reason. It's only fair you tell me yours."

"Deal."

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They didn't quite 'go out for a beer'. When OA heard Hailey's stomach throw a temper tantrum in the elevator he suggested going out for food that was accompanied by a beer. She'd agreed as long as they didn't go out for "crackers with sauce on them". OA had laughed, not even remotely or phased by Hailey's obsession with Chicago pizza. It's just another thing she shares with Jay. Besides, he wanted to take her somewhere else.

When they sat down Hailey looked around, taking it all in. Omar has been coming to this restaurant all his life. It had been open longer than he'd been alive, he'd even had his tenth birthday here. He hadn't brought Maggie here yet, not because he didn't think they were close enough, he just didn't know how she'd react to realizing that they are that close. "I hope you like Egyptian food."

"I've never had it, but I'm Greek and I know that there are a few shared foods and ingredients."

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed Greek from 'Upton'."

"My parents changed it when they moved here, their name was too difficult for Americans to pronounce, and there was some... Other stuff."

"I'm familiar with 'other stuff'. Do you want any recommendations or need me to explain anything on the menu?"

"You know what? You can choose what I eat tonight. If I like what you pick, I won't tease you for it the rest of the time I'm here."

"Well, for the record-"

"What record?" Hailey laughed.

"For the record, I am completely confident in my knowledge of food so I know I'll find something you'll like. After all, it can't really be bad so long as it's not non-Chicago pizza. Right?"

OA ended up choosing a dish called 'kushari', it wasn't like the Chicago or Mediterranean food Hailey was used to but she'd loved it. OA was smiling at her, proud of his victory, Hailey rolled her eyes, smirking at his impishness. "Tell me about your partner." The question caught him off guard and for a moment he'd felt a significant crack in his walls, leaving him exposed. Suddenly all the feelings he'd been pushing back since Maggie went UC enveloped and starting drowning him. Fear gripped his heart, haunting curiousity stabbed his mind, and loneliness hooked onto his soul. "OA? We don't have to talk about her, I'm sorry I asked, I didn't mean to upset you."

"She's one of the most amazing people I know. She's smart, strong, generous, empathetic, courageous... She's honestly one of the most amazing people in my life and I love having her as my partner." Hailey looked at him the same way his sisters and mother did whenever he spoke about one of the most important people in his life. Like they were able to listen between his words and decipher another meaning to what he'd said. But like his mother, his sisters always gave him hell for it, she said nothing. I couldn't even dispute it if she did say anything.

"She sounds badass."

"She is. What about your partner? Tell me about them?" He'd narrowly averted saying 'him', unsure how she'd react if she knew just how close she and Jay really were, and just how much Jay had told him about her. She got this smitten grin on her face, and OA knew that the roles were reversed from a few moments ago when he had that same smirk and far off look in his eyes. "His name is Jay Halstead, and he's an amazing person, except for when he's getting himself shot, the reckless idiot. He would rather get shot at than get a needle which rattles me to no end, especially because he's so much more kind and intelligent than he gives himself credit for and we need him you know, alive, but still, I admire him so much. He makes me laugh and he just knows how to get to me, you know? I would... I would follow him anywhere. Wow... What is in this food? Truth serum? I'm not usually that open..." It was like he could literally see a forcefield shaping around her. Shrinking in on herself, her face hardening, hastily putting a forkful of food in her mouth. She looked at the wall behind him, pretending to be interested in the decorations, trying to pass off the slight panic in her eyes.

"Maybe it's just my charming demeanour, or that I got personal first, really personal. Or maybe it's because you needed to tell that to someone you don't see every day."

"Yeah. Maybe." She still wouldn't look at him and a tense silence enveloped them until she took a deep breath and shook herself. Light seemingly went off in her head before she gave him an absolutely devilish smirk. "I believe I was promised your origin story."

"Is that what we're calling it? An 'origin story'?"

"It is now."

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

"Halstead."

"Get your head out of your dumb ass and ask Hailey out."

"I- OA-"

"You won't regret it, Jay. I actually think that you will regret it if you don't."

"I just don't know if I'm ready to admit anything to myself, forget Hailey."

"When does life ever wait until you're ready, man? Neither of you work in a stable occupation, and even then the universe isn't exactly known for working on anyone else's timeline. I can literally feel you aching for her from here."

"But what if I'm not good enough."

"Oh, I've only known her for a few days and I already know that no one's good enough for her-"

"Damn have you adopted her as another honourary sibling? How many do you have now? And Hailey actually knows you've adopted her, right?"

"Not important, and don't try and change the subject."

"But if no one's good enough for her, then..."

"You're too hard on yourself Jay. No one's good enough for you either. Why shouldn't two people who are far too good for the world be together? You deserve happiness, Jay. You both do, and I think telling her that you're far gone with her would be a great start."

"Thanks, man. Really."

"No problem."

"... So you think that I'm 'far too good for the world'?"

"And now I'm regretting every word we've spoken." No I don't, but your head really doesn't to get bigger.

"Nope, no take-backs. You think that I'm badass and amazing."

"I never said 'badass' or 'amazing'."

"Jay Halstead- described as 'far too good for the world' by the humble and decorated OA Zidan-"

"I also called you a 'dumbass' but whatever, goodnight Jay. And seriously, ask Hailey out."

[aelaer]

☕ Opinion on all the Wakandans we know, all of them, including those that died in Lagos.

Opinion on Wakandans: general badasses. Wish it was a real country. Hope that the film's existence gives real inspiration to the people of Africa that have access to the film.

Now in order from least important to most important (well in terms of plot), from the people I can find in the Wiki because I've only memorized how to spell the names of 6 Wakandans, and the name Erik doesn't really count. (Erik's a very very good name though).

The Wakandans that died in Lagos: 🎶 Those poor unfortunate souls / So sad, so true 🎶 It must be rough being a plot device.

Zuri, aka T'Challa's uncle figure killed by Erik: Good guy. Died for what he believed in and his country. I admire his loyalty to T'Chaka and T'Challa. Was right to turn N'Jobu in to the king.

N'Jobu, aka T'Challa's actual uncle: I get that he wanted to help people. Helping people by instigating war is usually not the way to go. I mean, if this happened in 1850s America then sure, slavery is bad. I mean war's not great, but that's a topic worth fighting for. But trying to instigate a violent race war in the world in the early 90s for class imbalance? Doesn't seem like a good idea. The LA riots were bad enough in the US. And criminals of all races that ended up with Wakandan weapons would have just used them on either each other (gang wars) or the police (of all races). In other words, he was not thinking ahead at all. Innocent people would have caught in the crossfire as what usually happens. Or they'd be victimized by those (of all races) without scruples. He'd not be helping the trodden in the (American) black community by gifting criminals with weapons, because those gangs are often the people terrorizing their very communities. I hate gang violence- it's so senseless.

King T'Chaka, aka T'Challa's dad: I've major beef with him. He killed his brother, which may be his kingly right or whatever since he tried to kill Zuri, but to leave his nephew there? Alone and without help? That's fucking awful, man. I mean there was no good outcome after N'Jobu died, but leaving a kid like that was heartless. According to wiki, his mom died in prison when he was a kid. This kid would have been put into the foster care system which would be no walk in the park. That's awful. I can't believe he abandoned his nephew. It wouldn't have been easy but it could have been better. Also, I really dislike him for his part in the Accords. A lot. Him rushing it through was not good. So yeah, not my favorite character.

Ramonda, aka T'Challa's mom: She's a cool lady. No qualms here. She raised two awesome kids.

W'Kabu, aka Okoye's former(?) husband: I wonder if Okoye was allowed to divorce him after the civil war. I hope so. Anyway, he was cool until he, you know, sided with Killmonger and betrayed T'Challa. But that's civil war for you. I know anecdotes of childhood friends and families fighting against each other in the American Civil War and I imagine it's happened in many a civil war elsewhere. Still, not cool.

M'Baku, aka The Best One: I love him. I love how he was set up as being this awful brute and then he ends up helping save Wakanda and also have a sense of humor. He is the best and I just want to hug him. What else is there to say?

Nakia, aka the love interest: Definitely one of the best love interests in the MCU. She has a solid personality with her own sets of beliefs, wit, can fight (which is always great in a superhero film), and she plays a core part in both helping T'Challa in his quest for the throne back (by saving the heart shaped herb) as well as helps shape T'Challa's change of heart by revealing themselves to the world. She's up there with Peggy Carter for me. I'd love to see her as much as we saw Pepper.

Erik Killmonger: One of the best villains in the MCU, hands down. Jordan's ability to portray him as both off kilter and sympathetic was incredibly well done, and this character is one large reason Black Panther was such a fantastic film. For all the fun of, say, Guardians of the Galaxy and Doctor Strange, which are in my top seven MCU films (it's hard to rank films), they don't have a really well-rounded villain. The fact that Erik is sympathetic enough that there were a few (insane) people on Twitter who thought his plan was perfectly alright really speaks to how well he was written and played.

Okoye: I adore this woman so much. Everything about her is just fantastic. I love her dry sense of humor and her friendship with the royal family. I really loved that we got to see the conflict of her trying to figure out what Wakanda was, and what Wakanda she was fighting for. That she went against her husband is incredibly poignant. Overall for a character with not a ton of screentime, she's very memorable and a fantastic hero in her own right.

Shuri: Shuri is the type of character diversity I expect out of my 21st century entertainment. A young black woman that happens to be as smart, if not smarter, than Bruce Banner and Tony Stark? Brilliant. I was wondering just how old this character was in terms of original creation date, so I looked it up and lo and behold: she made her debut in 2005, only three years before the first Iron Man was released. It doesn't surprise me that she's such a young character (only 15 years compared to T'Challa's 54 years of comic book existence) because such diversity in comics has really, really only exploded in the 21st century. Even Miles Morales of Spider-Man fame is only 9 years old! Anyway, I love everything about her. The fact that she is so crazy smart but also manages to still remain cheeky and a bit of a brat to her older brother is honestly icing on the cake. I'm so glad she exists as a character. I look forward to seeing what they do with her in the future.

T'Challa: According to the comics wiki he's a graduate of Oxford! I have no idea if they carried that over to MCU lore, but I love that (and it's not rare for foreign dignitaries to send their children to places like Oxford, so). Anyway, he is an absolutely fantastic character and one I can see becoming a favorite during the Phase 4 and 5 films as he gets more time to shine. His character arc through CACW is one of my favorite parts of the film; it's fantastic to see him grow as a person and realize what the quest for revenge can do to a person, which in turn leads to a fantastic parallel when you compare him with Killmonger during Black Panther. That there is fantastic storytelling. I don't know if he'd have any reason to team up with Stephen but goodness knows I'd love that. I've only written him a little (in something unpublished as of now) but I'd love to explore his character further in the future. He's fantastic.

Hope you enjoyed that :P

[smilingformoney]

America’s Most Eligible 3 Diamond Scene: Console Carson

You: Way ahead of you. You wrap your arm around Carson’s shoulders and steer him up to the rooftop lounge. You: Let’s get you some fresh air and a cup of coffee first. Fiancée: I’m sure Wreen will turn up sooner or later. Carson: Well, it is getting kinda hot in here… As you climb the steps, you see Wrenn scanning the club for you, and you quickly duck out of sight into the cool, crisp air.

As you and Derek guide Carson out onto the lounge deck… You get an eyeful of the beautiful night sky! Derek orders Carson a cup of coffee, and you direct him to a nearby couch. You: Why don’t we sit over here? Carson: Ivy likes to sit. She used to sit with me for hours… Carson: Until he came along. Fiancée: One guess who that could be.

You: Carson. Is all of this about… -Your feelings for Ivy?

Carson’s shoulders sag, and the tears that had been threatening to fall finally make an appearance. Carson:  The times we had scheming against you in Season 10 are some of my memories… You: Gee, glad I could help. Carson: Don’t get me wrong. She has the most diabolical mind… but she’s also one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. Carson: I call her my Ivyprofen… ‘cause she takes all of my pain away. Carson: But I should’ve seen the writing on the wall. Ivy’s always been desperate to prove that she’s worthy of her mother’s love. Fiancée: We saw that firsthand back at the mansion. You: Yeah, Dahlia’s a real piece of work. Carson: The only thing Dahlia values is money and fame. I guess Ivy figured if she had both, Dahlia would have to love her.

-How much you hate Vince?

Carson’s hands clench into fists, and his knuckles go white. Carson: Vince. What does he have that I don’t, anyway? Immediately, your eyes dart from Carson’s face to the top of his head and back again. Jen: Uh… Do you really want us to answer that? Carson: No, ‘cause I’ll tell you what. If you let Vince tell it, he’s rich, with hordes of fans and a successful business… Carson: But that’s only if you believe a word that comes out of his perfectly sculpted mouth! Carson: The truth is, Vince’s business has been going belly up since he lost last season, and his fans are starting to see that he’s not all he said he was. You: I guess that explains the guy from WedCon. Carson: Vince’s just trying to get more clicks on his pathetic website.

You: That… explains a lot. Carson: And worst of all, I think-- I think that Ivy might actually… Carson: Love him. Carson hiccups, his body slumped against the back of the couch, the weight of his admissions leaving him weak. He takes a long sip of his coffee to steady himself. Fiancée: No way. Vince treats her like garbage! Do you honestly think she’d fall for him after that? Carson: I really do. You: So how are you involved in all of this, Carson? I thought you and Ivy were over the second you scored the showrunner gig. Carson: Not my finest moment, but I thought we were working past that! Carson: We spent every minute before the special cuddled up in bed, planning our future. I… I thought she was the one. You: So you two were planning on going the distance. Fiancée: And Vince was.. occupied with Sierra. Carson: But a five-minute conversation with the execs was all it took to ruin everything. The three of you take a moment to let the information settle. Carson sips his coffee, looking more alert. Still, something nags at you. You: Things must really be dire if neither one of them felt like they could turn down the opportunity…

You: But… -Something about their plan doesn’t add up!

You: Marrying Vince on national TV gives Ivy fame and access to his money, but what does Vince get out of the deal? Fiancée: We all know he’s not doing it out of the good of his heart. Carson: I wish I knew. Carson: Since the accident last season, AME has beefed up their law team, and thanks to my… self-imposed sabbatical, I’m on pretty thin ice as it is. Carson: If it doesn’t involve me, I don’t know about it, and if it does, I’ve signed away my rights to talk about it.

-If you know all of this, why not say something?

You: You know as well as we do that marrying Vince isn’t gonna end well for Ivy. You: If you really love her, why not go public with what you know and put an end to this? Fiancée: Since the accident last season, AME has beefed up their law team. There are practically NDAs about NDAs now. Fiancée: I’m willing to bet the execs have him on a need-to-know basis and made him sign away his rights to everything else. Carson: Unfortunately.

Carson takes another large swig from his mug, and you notice it’s almost empty. You: Do you mind if I ask one more question? Carson: I always say, if you’re gonna ruin your diet, there’s no point stopping before dessert. Do your worst.

You: Carson… -What if Ivy doesn’t choose you?

You: She agreed to join the cast for a reason, and she even left the comfort of your bed to do it! You: What happens if the love you have for her just isn’t enough? Carson studies the mug in his hands for a while before finishing the rest of the coffee in one large gulp. Carson: I just want Ivy to be happy… If marrying Vince gives her that, then that’s good enough for me.

-Is Vince really any worse for Ivy than you were?

You: The fact is, you had your chance with Ivy, and you used her to get what you wanted. Do you really think you deserve to judge Vince? Carson studies the mug in his hands for a while before finishing the rest of the coffee in one large gulp. Carson: Yes. I know I made some mistakes, but I’ve spent the last year trying to make it up to her. Carson: When I think back on everything I said and did to Ivy to get to where I am… I’m ashamed of myself. But I don’t think Vince ever will be.

Carson puts down the mug and hops to his feet. Carson: But that’s more than enough out of me. It’s a party, not a pouty! You two should have some fun, I’m gonna find Wrenn and head home… He heads for stairs, but stops short before turning back to face you and your fiancée. Carson: And, uh… about what I said? You: Your secrets are safe with us. Carson smiles his thanks, and disappears down the stairs. Fiancée: Wow. Who knew that under all the hairspray, makeup, and designer clothes there was a lovesick puppy a few Appletinis shy of making a break for it? You: Right?

You: If anything, their relationship is proof that we… -Are so lucky to have found each other. +50

You: Being single is a lot more complicated than I remember… Fiancée: Lucky for us, we never have to go through it again.

-Should lead with our hearts, not our heads. +50

You: They were so busy scheming to get what they wanted, they weren’t paying attention to what they already had! Fiancée: From here on out, let’s always promise to let our love for each other guide us.

You: I wouldn’t have it any other way. You soak in the rest of the moonlight and the distant honks of traffic down below, as you enjoy each other’s company before finally standing to make your way back downstairs.

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

unlonely [michael m. x reader] pt.1

like what i do? consider buying me a coffee!

oh SHIT. oh SHIT lads??? a part one??? but percy u never number the first parts!!!

yeah thats because i usually dont expect myself writing another part sdkfjhds but this? ive been planning this fic for a fuckin while now and it’s about time that i finish this and post it instead of yknow... starting part two and giving myself at least a beginning BUT oh well man i was excited and wanted to post this dskjfhds

also this went through multiple titles. unlonely ended up being the winner. brownie points if y’all know the song.

warnings: i dont think theres anything big other than like. my general swearing warning. 

            To say that you were friends with anyone at Middleborough would have been a complete lie. You knew people, sure, but you’d never really built up a connection with anyone past small jokes in-class and sometimes the rare invite for you to join them at lunch. For the most part, you’d been a loner - and that was how you liked it. It left you to sit alone at lunch and focus on your art, or for you to focus on getting homework done because you had Final Fantasy XV waiting for you at home and you were just about to help Iris with shit before you realized you wouldn’t have been able to save. You used your time wisely, and spent your free time at home, sometimes in a Discord call with a couple video game buddies who you’d met via Overwatch. But you’d be lying if you said there hadn’t been a couple people in your classes that you’d wished you’d talk to. One of those people had been Michael Mell, music enthusiast and video game aficionado. For the most part, you didn’t really know much about him past the fact he almost always had headphones around his neck, the fact he was best friends with Jeremy Heere (someone you’d honestly written off as a geek, and honestly, potential friend material since something told you that the two of you would have hit it off), and the fact he had various video game keychains since he had the habit of throwing down his keys during AP Biology - the only class the two of you shared where he sat right next to you, by some stroke of luck.

            So when Jeremy Heere suddenly changed completely and left Michael in the dust, you decided you’d give him a week. One week to stop being a huge dick and talk to the guy who’d apparently been Michael’s best friend for the past twelve years, according to some kid in your math class. You’d watched Michael try to grab his attention while in the hall as Jeremy strode past him, ignoring him for the entire day in order to spend time with people like Rich Goranski and Chloe Valentine - neither of who you disliked, but people that surprised you that they’d spend time with Jeremy Heere. 

            One week and two days later, you found yourself trying to find something to talk to Michael about that wasn’t video games. You gave that up quickly during the last fifteen minutes of AP Bio.

            You, in an attempt to find a conversation started, ended up stared at his key-chains: a buster sword, a diamond pickaxe, a round Pac-man with an open mouth, and a flat Nintendo game-boy. You settled on the buster sword, licking your lips and swallowing any doubt that had begun to pool in your stomach. “Did you hear about the remake?” You’d asked, and for a moment Michael hadn’t realized you’d been talking to him until he finally tore his eyes away from his phone, meeting your gaze. You smiled, “for uh, Final Fantasy-”

            He nodded before you could give the number. “Yeah, uh - I heard,” he said, wary of your sudden presence. You shifted uncomfortably at that - maybe you should have opened up with something different.

            “Yeah - uh, I never really got a chance to play the original since my older brother took his PlayStation and all his games when he moved out - but I’m excited for the remake! I’m hoping that it’ll live up to the fame of the original,” you said, keeping up a smile and acting as confident as you could. “I’m hoping that maybe when I visit him, I can play a bit.”

            Michael blinked in the sight of you, surprised you were still talking to him. He half-expected that spark of conversation to die out as quickly as it had flamed. But he reached up, tugging slightly at his headphones, and sat slightly straighter. “It’s honestly one of the best games in the series. The soundtrack alone is fantastic,” he said, starting to warm up to you, “you should definitely listen to it at least.”

            “I have!” You chirped, smiling, “yeah - my brother used to play video game soundtracks in the mornings when he’d drive me to school. He said something about it being nice, and then would always make a big deal for his favorite games. I’ve been wanting to play more of the older games, but so far I’m kinda fascinated with the newest one so... one game at a time, I guess.”

            “Yeah, uh, fifteen’s pretty fun actually!” Michael ran a hand through his hair, “it’s different but...”

            “Really good. I’m kinda glad the series took a step away from the turn-based combat, I guess.” You shoved your hands into the front pocket of your hoodie, “so... what else do you play?”

            “A lot of old shit,” he shrugged, “Overwatch, sometimes. I haven’t really played recently though.”

            You immediately jump on that thread. “What do you play on? Who do you main?” 

            He blinked at the sight of you, before a small smile cracked upon his face. Maybe you were cooler than he thought. “Uh, PS4 mainly, and... Sombra, D.Va, aaaand Lúcio. What about you?”

            “Same, actually - my brother also bought Overwatch for PS4 and then ended up giving that to me when he left. As for who I main-”

            The bell rung out, interrupting you as teenagers began to shuffle around you. You slowly stood, grabbing your bag and slipping an arm through one strap as you turned back to Michael. He’d already stood, shoving his keys into his pocket and backpack already hanging off of one shoulder. He watched you for a moment, as if waiting to see if you were actually going to pursue conversation or leave him now that class was over.

            “If you wanna keep talking about video games ‘n stuff,” you said, “we can maybe grab lunch together?”

            “Yeah, I’d, uh- I’d like that?” He acted as if he was unsure. He paused as he pushed in his chair, leaning against it, “I don’t eat in the cafeteria though.”

            “That’s valid,” you stepped away, walking with him out of the classroom. “I’ve got money, if that helps-”

            “You... really wanna talk to me, don’t you?” He stared at you, dumbfounded that someone would actually take notice of him past the regular little interactions - asking him to get out of the way, asking him a question about class, all the basic shit that’d be forgotten minutes all.

            You nodded, the fabric of your backpacks straps scratching against your palm to make an uncomfortable noise. You winced slightly because of it, before nodding again awkwardly. “Yeah. I do.” You sort of smile, “is that a problem? You seem cool.” He shook his head as he walked alongside you, one hand fumbling with his headphones. You continued on, “so.. We were talking about my mains, right?”

            The walk out to Michael’s car wasn’t too awkward in the end. He was surprisingly happy to keep talking about different video games, lamenting about this shitty level in Apocalypse of the Damned before immediately shutting up about it. Then the conversation turned to food, Michael suggesting sushi and you just sorta shrugged and agreed since he was driving. On the drive over, there was the whole awkward conversation of “wait, should we eat in or get our stuff to go?” which ended in the two of you deciding just to chill in his car in the parking lot of the school with your food. Twenty minutes later, the two of you had kicked back and were listening to music in his car, enjoying your food.

            “Y’know,” you started, “for a dude who was so eager to get sushi, I’m surprised you didn’t get more sushi.” You shrugged, “I mean, it’s no biggie - I’m just a little surprised-”

            Michael looked over to you, before looking back to his food, “eh. I’m not that big on fish - plus the beef negimaki is fucking god there.” He then stole another glance to you, “what’s up with the fork?”

            “Never learned to use chopsticks,” you shrugged, “my brother always made fun of me for it.” You smiled a little, “I mean - I just can’t really loosen my grip enough, I guess.” You glanced down to the chicken yakisoba you’d ordered, “besides. I mean... it’s not like I’m eating sushi with a fork.”

            “I guess you have a point.” He said. Awkward silence grew between the two of you, only leaving the music to fill the small bits of tension that had developed since you were sort of a stranger in a way.

            “You like music?” You asked, mentally slapping yourself - of course he likes music, who doesn’t like music? “What do you listen to?”

            He lit up immediately at that, jabbing his empty chopsticks in the direction of his radio. “Eighties stuff. Grew up with it,” he began, “mainly because of my moms, but my older brother was big into eighties shit as well. And, uh, he also got me into Filipino eighties music,” he shrugged, “heritage stuff, I guess.” He paused for a moment, idly tapping his chopsticks against the to-go container for a moment, “plus he’s older than me so... I guess I thought he was cool and started listening to stuff because of it.”

            “Are you saying your brother isn’t cool?” You shifted, iron-grip on your lunch, “because you better hope I never meet him or I’ll tell him that.”

            He snorted a little at that, “he’s cool. He ended up moving to Philly with a bunch of friends a year ago.”

            You nodded, reaching for your drink. “Maybe you could show me some music sometimes? I’ve been looking for some new bops-”

            “I can make you a playlist!” Michael then drew back slightly, confidence fading little by little, “I mean, if you want-”

            “I’d really like that.” The minute you spoke, Michael beamed, once again filled with confidence. The way that Michael seemed to light up, all the stars falling into his eyes - it made you smile a little more than you had been before. “Do you, uh - you use Spotify, right?”

            “Yeah! My moms pay for premium,” he beamed, before his smile fell. “Do... you uh-”

            “Want my number?” You offered up, and he nods, unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. You flipped open the contacts, pressing the little plus button and filling in your info before shooting a quick message to yourself before setting his phone back in his hand.

            That afternoon started the constant memes, along with the occasional song that he’d ask your opinion on - always swearing that it was so he could get a better grasp of your taste so that you’re playlist will be perfect. Some you liked, some you forced yourself to listen to past the first minute (and occasionally, you ended up liking them), others you dropped barely seconds in, something not quite jiving with you. He’d usually find you at lunch on the days you didn’t have AP Bio,or occasionally he’d ask if you wanted to run somewhere for lunch since cafeteria sucks. By that Saturday, a link popped up to a playlist just titled ‘tasty jams for [y/n]’ with the description set as ‘because their music taste might suck and im a good person :)’ - which made you laugh, sending a quick ‘thank you for your wise wisdom, mello yello’ before you plugged in your headphones to listen.

            You really, really appreciated Michael’s taste in music, honestly.

            Over the course of the next few weeks, Michael became a regular part of your life. After your insistence that, dude, you were gonna be lonely anyway, just come and sit with you - he sorta caved in and ate lunch with you regularly, animatedly talking about video games or music or this stupid YouTube video he watched: anything and everything, like he was this dam that had been building up and now he finally had someone to talk to, someone to spill everything to. AP Biology consisted of dumb jokes under your breath, Michael’s soft chuckles next to you making you crack little smiles; little notes slipping to one another during your American History class, sometimes little drawings, other times little jokes; and then there was Algebra, where the two of you would text each other from across the room, trying your best to hide your phones. At the end of math, Michael would be waiting by the classroom door, falling into step beside you as the two of you started heading out to the parking lot. 

            “Hey!” He greeted you one day, visibly nervous despite the smile plastered to his face. He shoved his hands into his pockets, “hey, uh, you wanna... come over on Saturday? We could play video games or something,” he shrugged. 

            You mulled over the thought for a minute, before slowly nodding. “Okay.”

            He smiled again, reaching up and fumbling with the cord of his headphones as he looked over to you. “You do know we’re gonna play some spooky shit, right? It’s almost Halloween,” he sorta laughed, “spooky scary.”

            You jabbed him with your elbow, not hard enough to hurt him. “Fuckin’ dork, fine- but I get first pick at characters.”

            “Yeah, fine, you can be player-” He paused, catching himself, “yeah. Yeah, okay!”

            You didn’t push it.

            That Saturday you drove over to Michael’s house, letting your Google Maps app guide you the entire way, calling out directions along the way over the sound of the playlist Michael made for you. You cursed the cold weather outside, your jacket sitting in the passenger seat of the heated car. The moment you pulled up outside of Michael’s house, only his P.T Cruiser sitting in the driveway, you shot him a quick text that you were outside and he best have that door open because you aren’t dealing with this cold shit today. Barely taking a minute to slip into your jacket, you cut off the car and pocketed the keys, clicking the doors locked after you hopped out and dashed to the front door, Michael opening it just in time for you to slide inside.

            He stood there, watching you literally slide to a stop. “You don’t like the cold, do you?”

            You shook your head. “Not when the weather lies to me, dear Mello Yello.” 

            He glanced upstairs, before looking back to you. “I’m gonna grab some snacks - but you can go on up? First door on the left,” he shut the front door, finally cutting the cold air out of the situation. You nodded, awkwardly shooting him finger guns as you strolled past him and head upstairs - after kicking off your boots near the door, having found Michael’s own shoes sitting nearby. You found Michael’s room easily, even if he hadn’t given you instructions, considering his door had been left wide open and his room was as Michael-esque as you expected.

            Band T-shirts littered the floor, some lazily thrown over the chair at his desk, along with what you swore looked like a pizza box tucked under his bed and a few empty cans of soda - all crushed and most around a full trashcan near the bedroom door. You sorta hold back a smile at how fucking stereotypical teenage-boy the mess was - but that little bit of restraint disappeared as you started taking in the posters pinned around his room, all with red or white pushpins holding them up. The Legend of Zelda, Uncharted, The Last of Us, Tomb Raider, Portal - and then, among those, you caught a few others. Old movies posters - things like Nightmare on Elm Street and Alien and The Thing - peeked out from between everything else, and then it all came to a stop at this cork-board that hung above Michael’s desk. Pictures were pinned up everywhere, some of him by himself, others with him and his moms and someone you only assumed was a brother or a cousin or something - due to the striking resemblance that Michael shared with him. And then there were pictures of Jeremy - scarce but still there -  among all the memories of Disney World and sleepy plane rides with a dark sky peeking through the windows. All of them were different ages - Michael and Jeremy at what you could only assume was sometime during their last few years of elementary school, posing proudly with the widest smiles and papers in front of them for good grades or good attendance, the sort of shit that you usually get in elementary school; or Michael chilling at a community pool with Jeremy, both probably thirteen or fourteen, with ice cream and sodas sitting on a wire table behind them, towels wrapped around their shoulders and smiles forced in that sort of way that when you’re thirteen, you don’t want anyone to see you; and then there was a picture of Michael and Jeremy, taken within the last year, with Michael’s arm thrown around Jeremy’s shoulder as this was absolutely something snapped at the most opportune moment, and you couldn’t really make out what they were looking at but they both looked so happy and comfortable with each other. Something inside of you plucked at your heartstrings, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to think. 

            You tore your attention away from the board, ignoring whatever the sticky notes littered here and there said, and you started fumbling with a Rubik’s Cube on his desk. His laptop sat, open with a darkened screen - and with an accidental brush of the wireless mouse that’d been positioned a little too close to the Rubik’s Cube, you were greeted with his Spotify open to a playlist in progress, a key-smash for a name and description (very creative) with a few songs listed. Eventually you set down the toy, making your way over to his bed and sitting down, just sort of taking in the sight of Michael’s room while the scent of some air freshener lingered around you.

            “Shit-” Michael said as he approached the room, causing you to turn around. “I was... sort of in the middle of cleaning... aaand I wasn’t sure if I should finish while you were here-” He kicked out his desk chair, it rolling back enough for him to seat himself, the back of it pressed against his stomach. “I can clean up more if you want.”

            “It’s cool, dude. No messier than my room,” you sort of laughed, whether it was true or not. What are we playing?”

            He didn’t answer, standing and handing over a can of soda to you before going over to where his games were stored, flipping through them. “I... didn’t plan that far ahead.”

            He rattled off the titles of games, while your focus drifted back to the photos on the wall. You’d never really seen Michael so happy - well, perhaps when you asked about him making you a playlist, but that moment paled in comparison to the most recent picture with Jeremy - and that twisted your stomach. You didn’t hear Michael stop reading out names, before his gaze settled on what you’d been staring at. He stood once more, clutching a game in his hands now as he walked over to the board.

            “Yeah, uh - my family travel a lot,” he said, looking back to you. “Usually just over summer and breaks and whatever,” he sunk down into the chair, and you crawled over to the foot of his bed, as close as you could get without standing. He pointed out different pictures - the summer he went to Disney World and how he got super fucking spooked on Expedition Everest, or how they took a road trip one summer and jammed out to eighties bops the entire way, or the day trips they took to New York as a family - before you catch his gaze falling to Jeremy. 

            “So!” You interrupt the silence that had started to grow between the two of you, “Mello Yello. What we playing.” You didn’t ask. But he lit up, glad to have something else to think about. You beamed at him as he held up the case.

            “Resident Evil 5.” He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, “got that fucking spooky zombie shit.” 

            “Just in time for Halloween,” you mused, “dope. I get to be Chris.”

            He chuckled, moving to queue the game up and handing you a controller. “Your loss, then.”

            “Dude. I get to be a fucking beefy dude.”

            “But Sheva though.”

            You mulled the thought over. “... You have a point.”

            The game queued up. And then Michael spoke again, nudging you to scoot over as he sat on his bed. “Are you going to Jake’s Halloween party?”

            Something about that question made your blood turn to ice for a mere moment. That... came from nowhere - and you didn’t even know Jake Dillinger past the fact that a lot of people would fucking love to fuck him. So you shrugged the question off. “Are you?”

            And Michael didn’t answer.

            “Michael?”

            He looked over to you, before turning his attention to the game, starting it up. You pinned your eyes to the screen, as the opening tutorial started up after the two of you configured shit. “Jeremy’s supposed to be there,” he finally admitted. “I thought that maybe I’d go talk to him. Y’know, talk some sense into him.” His shoulders fell as he let out a heavy breath, “yell at him about how we were friends for twelve years and how he’s being a huge fucking dick because of the SQUIP-”

            You cut him off: “the what.” He freezed under your gaze. “Michael... you never told me what happened with Jeremy.”

            And he wasn’t going to - judging by how he immediately fumbled with his controller, slowly breathing out as he squeezed his eyes shut. The game started, throwing you into the opening cutscene of the game. You watched as Michael drew his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, before he finally decided to speak again.

            “You can’t tell anyone about this,” he said, and the moment you finally nodded, he continued on. “So uh... the SQUIP is this... weird supercomputer-pill-thing,” he started, “and it’s supposed to like... tell you what to do? I don’t know - Jeremy said that this guy at school was going to sell him one and we went to check it out and now he’s too good for-” He hesitated. “He’s too good to hang out with me, since... I guess I’m a loser?” He stared at the TV screen before the two of you. “I dunno - he didn’t... really say.”

            You didn’t speak. You only sat there, playing the game as you listened to Michael filled you in on what limited information he had. The entire time he spoke, he looked so distant. Just mere minutes ago, he’d been alive - talking to you about his family and about the game, and he’d been bright as he greeted you at the door and brought snacks and soda for the two of you - and now... he looked tired. You suddenly stopped, grip on the controller becoming loose as you only stared at Michael, watching his focus stay on the game, movement reflecting in his glasses until he, too, finally stopped. The two of you had been lucky there weren’t any enemies around at that point - you’d probably have died and had to restart if there had been. His gaze slowly met yours.

            “I know it sounds crazy,” Michael breathed, grip tight on the controller, “but... it’s true - I promise,” he paused, searching for words to say, searching your face for disbelief. But he didn’t find it. He found concern, etched into every feature that you had.

            “Michael... it’s not that it’s crazy, as... impossible as a supercomputer-pill-thing sounds,” you said, not sure how else to refer to this SQUIP thing, “I mean... It’s just really, really hard to grasp. Like...” You paused, tracing your thumb along hard plastic, “if you’re going to talk to Jeremy at the party,” you shifted the subject, “are you sure that’s something that you should do-”

            He didn’t wait. “Yes - I have to-”

            “- alone?” You finished, dumbfounding him almost immediately. “Look - I’m not saying that I, uh... go in there with you or anything, but... I can drive you, or just wait in the car-” You cut yourself off, “I just don’t think this is something you should be doing completely alone.”

            You were met with a completely dumbfounded stare, before he finally snapped back to reality, your words sinking in. And then he nodded, immediately spouting off some plan about how you can pick him up that night, and he can change into his costume on the way to Jake’s house and then he’ll crash at your place, so the whole idea of him chilling at your place wouldn’t be a complete lie to his moms. The entire time he went into detail about this whole scheme he cooked up, you couldn’t fight back a smile. 

            Because at that moment, the two of you had become partners in crime.

            Fuck yes.

[thotsforvillainrights]

~Pivitol~

Summary: Chisaki handles business in the city before returning to you. Pops comes home and gives Kai the speech he needed to hear. It’s time for this man to straighten out but if you can’t change him, can anyone really do so?

Chapter: 16

Warnings: None

“Pssss.”

“Pssssssss.”

“Pssssssssss!”

“Shit...are you...are you dead?” You quickly awoke with a startle at a literal stuffed animal talking to you. “What the fuck??????” You reached to pick it up when his hand slapped you away. “Aye don’t touch me! My name is Irinaka and I’m here to inform you of the boss’s absence. Something came up suddenly and he apologizes for being away. He says to help yourself to anything in the house and to not leave before he gets back home. He also told me if you needed to leave to have one of us take you to wherever you needed to go.” You tilted your head in confusion. “Are you the messenger doll?” 

“I aint a fucking doll! This is my disguise. And my name is Joi Irinaka but you might as well call me Mimic for short, got it?” You slowly nodded at him. “Good!” Then he left you alone to simmer in your head. “Who else is here that I haven’t met?” You shook the thought away and got up to have breakfast. While you were relaxing in the house, Kai was out on the other side of the city in the middle of a meeting with a famed yakuza group. He groaned as he looked at his watch and waited for their leader to enter the room. He’d much rather be with you watching movies on the couch and listening to you give him random trivia facts he didn’t need about all the actors and actresses. Instead he was here under the pretense of an urgent meeting. This had better be good. Suddenly the door opened and the leader walked in. His two men trailed on his side just as Kai was standing there with Nemoto and Chrono on his side as well. “Kai Chisaki as I live an breath.” 

“Akihiko I presume? The last time we met my old man was in control but he’s nearly retired at this point. So let me set a rule in place right now before this meeting continues. Do not ever call me by that name. You will address me as Overhaul from this point on, or you and your men will be picking up your teeth from the floor. Do I make myself clear?” The old man laughed at him and shook his head. “Watch it punk. You’re talking to boss Akihiko here.” One of his men angrily spoke as he reached for his coat pocket. In half a second Nemoto and Chrono had their guns drawn and pointed with serious intention. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Chrono confidently threated the man and he sneered. “Calm down boys, no need for this energy.” Akihiko waved his men off and they calmed immediately. “Chrono, Nemoto you too.” Overhaul waved and the both of them put their guns away. “Now may I ask why you called me all the way here on such short notice?” Kai questioned with a bit of annoyance. “I’ll make this short. I want to grant the Shie Hassaikai permission to deal their new drug in our territory for 10 percent cut of the pay.” 

“You’ve just wasted my time.” Kai was going to stand up when one of the men reached for him. As soon as they touched his arm, he immediately lashed out and killed the man on spot. “Damn it! Now look what the hell you caused!” He fussed as the hives popped up on his arm where the man touched him. He scratched his arm as the remaining body guard on the opposing side stared in horror. Boss Akihiko sighed in disappointment. “It’s my fault. I warned the men of the outcome of this meeting if they did anything forbidden. I suppose the rookie here wasn’t listening. Shouta, clean up this mess and leave me be.” The man quickly complied in fear. “Please Mr. Overhaul, hear me out just for a moment?” Kai stared at the boss and glared before plopping down on his seat again. “You’ve got five minutes.” He spat as he scratched himself some more. “So you see Tado of the Matsufuda branch won’t let us in on the operations of his new drug due to some old bad blood between our groups. I’ve tried all I can to bring peace because this is a nearly 10 year beef that needs to be squashed. Absolutely nothing is working. Tado says the only way I’ll get my hands on the new bracket is if I go through another group.”

“Well I hate to disappointment you but I gave up drug dealing a long time ago. Whatever you heard through the grapevine was just me doing a weeks work of this little project and that’s all FOREVER. Chrono, Nemoto let’s go. It’s clear this is a waste of time.” Kai left the base with both his men by his side. Once in the car, Hari spoke up. “Man listen, I don’t know if it was true of not until today. I had first started hearing some of the lower men were handling it but after this little meeting I know for sure. You’re really doing this drug shit again? I thought we were all done with this for you and Pop’s sake? I mean you got us to a good spot right now. We’re making good clean money while still running the streets. Why would we have to do this stuff again even if it is just for a week?” Kai groaned and looked over at Hari in annoyance. “Need I remind you that you’re speaking to your boss right now? I’d know my place and stop questioning my integrity like this. Besides, it’s just a trial run for a week to bring in a little extra money before we’re done for good. Just worry about your work and not about what I’m doing.”

“Sure thing...Overhaul.” Chrono spoke with a hint of annoyance. Kai let it go knowing that if it were anyone else but Hari they’d be dead by now. At this very moment he just needed to focus on getting back to you. Meanwhile you were at the house paying special attention to feeding the fish in the Koi pond. You had already handled the rest of the chores when Kai came into the back where you were with open arms. “Kai!” You ran to him and hugged him tightly, careful to not get poked by the beak. “Where did you go?” You looked up at him and his eyes turned up in the corner indicating his smile. “Oh nowhere of significant importance. Just gang business, Why don’t we go somewhere before you have to go home?” You nodded at him and went to grab your shoes before packing your bag so it would be ready to go when it was time to eave. As you were doing so, you heard a knock on the already open door and turned to see who it was. “Pops! You’re back!” You crossed the room and gave the senior a hug to which he happily hugged back (rather tightly for his age). “What’s all this now? Heading back so soon my in-law? Can you stay a little longer?” He fake pouted and you laughed. “Aw, I wish I could stay here for a few more days but I’ve got to go back to work tomorrow haha. When my work week is over I’ll come back Friday for a surprise visit. Don’t tell Kai okay?” The elder nodded happily and watched the bittersweet scene of you packing your stuff. Honestly he wanted you to stay more than Kai. Not just because he was happy to see the boy actually being normal for once, but he was also pleased with having you around. “I do so hope you haven’t been troubled with the house chores while I was away. I’m fully prepared to pay you for housesitting these past days.” You scoffed at him and laughed lightly. “Oh absolutely not! I won’t have you paying me for something so small. In fact, you shouldn’t pay me at all ha! It’s just been a pleasure having you welcome me into your home and blessing me to be with your son.” Pops reached out and put a gentle hand on your shoulder. “No Y/N, its been more of a pleasure having you love him as such.” 

“Pops I’d appreciate if you didn’t hold up my date like this.” Kai spoke suddenly from the doorway. Pops chuckled and waved his hand. “Such a wonderful way to welcome me back home eh? Y/N, do me a favor and teach the boy some manners while you’re at it.” Pops teased as he walked away and left you two alone. Kai sighed in annoyance before smiling shortly. “I’m glad that old nuisance is home at least. But now you’ll be leaving soon. I have to be sad again of course.” You reached up and unlatched his bird mask so you could see his face. “I was only here for 2 days. I doubt you’ll really miss that much of me. Besides, let’s go on this little date before you drop me off huh?” You kissed his cheek and walked past him to the front door. After the date you were dropped off at your apartment door. After a particularly steamy kiss (and the urge to invite him in the apartment to continue it), you went inside and prepared yourself for sleep so you could face the work day ahead. Kai went back home, skipped his nightly shower for once, and laid on his back facing the ceiling. His stare was blank as he reached out and rubbed the empty space on his bed where you laid last night. For some reason he could never get enough of anything you did. Even sleeping away from him was driving him crazy. You were like a drug he was hooked on. Speaking of drugs...

“Chisaki I know what you’re up to. I waited until my beloved in-law was gone before I decided to spring this on you. I thought you were better than this.” Pops voice dragged him from his thoughts and he suddenly sat up on the bed with, for the first time, panic in his eyes. “I thought for a moment that you were getting better but this drug business has its hooks in you again.” Pops continued to scold the young head and for the first time his words were sinking in. Kai actually felt the guilt from it. “When I tell you that I can’t even begin to express my disappointment for this behavior. However I’m going to give you this bit of advice, this is the last time I’m telling you this because I’m not going to expend myself at this old age trying to raise a damn grown man. Leave. The drugs. Alone. You have until Friday to get this straightened out.” Pops spoke sternly and Kai lowered his head to the ground. 

“Yes sir. Understood.”