#she used to say a lot of nice things. joked about buildings a mother-in-law suite for me on their land

[explanationpoint]

..

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

If You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 6

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordam. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

April 2015

“You ready?” Sonny called as he came into her apartment. They’d agreed to skip the pretense and drive together, and Sonny had booked a hotel room within walking distance after confirming she’d be okay with it. His bag was in the trunk, and he grinned when she came out bundled up, the same Fordham sweatshirt she’d stolen under her coat and the little wheeled bag beside her. 

“Ready,” she grinned, stretching up to kiss him, and he felt like he could do anything. He took her bag despite her protest.

“I got us a room for the next two nights. We ain’t gotta stay both, but I thought it might be nice to go to dinner? I got both nights off, too.”

“That sounds real nice. I packed some real people clothes anyway.”

“Perfect. Now let’s get going. Bella said you guys got a make up artist coming.”

“Yeah. She got one and a hairdresser.”

“She’s definitely the one who wouldn’t wanna get herself ready.”

“Yeah. We gotta get there in time. What’re the groomsmen doing?”

“Playing video games and taking turns shaving and showering.”

“Not fair.”

“You look hot. You don’t need hair and make up.”

“You always think I’m hot.”

“That’s because you always are.”

“So are you. I got real lucky on the husband front.”

“You really think so?” She could sense the current under what he said. It wasn’t just Am I hot? but was also Are you lucky?

“Incredibly lucky. I got you.” He slammed the trunk shut, cheeks pink when he settled in the driver’s seat. It was familiar to drive with their fingers laced, and he smiled to see her wedding set in place. Bella had gone by the bakery to surprise her one day, and his sister was very pleased to let him know both rings were on her left ring finger. He’d told the squad the same day he told Olivia, and his ring had been on his hand every day since, the cross the only thing on the chain again.

“Think they’d notice if I do my own make up and hang out with you?”

“She really does have y’all going like two hours longer than Gina did.”

“Yeah. Gina was very ‘Let’s get down to business, get photos, and get married.’ Bella’s way more into the matching robes and face masks vibe. But she’ll be happy.”

“I’ll check in a lot, okay? I don’t like the video games Tommy does.”

“You just like Sims. It’s endearing.”

“It’s kinda fun.”

“You spent six hours building a house once.”

“I had t’make sure it was perfect. They were having twins, Tor.”

“I love you, you absolute nerd.”

“Your nerd.” 

“Damn straight.” Sonny dropped her off at the venue, checking them in at the hotel and dropping off their bags. He stopped by the bridal suite when he got to the venue, thankful the weather moved the ceremony inside now that he was out of the cold. 

“Dominick! No boys allowed,” Bella said, wagging her finger at him, hair in rollers. 

“I know, I know. I’m just bringing Tor the key and her charger, okay?”

“You got her key?” Gina asked, leaning back to look at him and lifting her brow. “That sounds like you’re sharing a room.”

“We are,” Victoria said plainly, taking both items gladly. All the girls had changed into robes, but she’d opted to stay in his oversized sweatshirt until the inevitable photos. A primal part of him liked knowing that.

“That sounds like a reconciliation,” the younger Carisi sang, and Victoria rolled her eyes. “And you two snuck out of the party early like you used to.”

“I’m real glad you approve of our progress, but if you put too much pressure on us, we might break again.” Victoria knew he didn’t mean it and just wanted them to drop it, which she was grateful for. They weren’t quite there, but she trusted he’d probably open up by the end of their weekend together. Even if he didn’t, she’d decided she wanted to start planning to see him more after the wedding. Several late nights with Margy and a bottle of wine had told her that much. If you prove you’ll be there and patient, he’ll probably feel less like he’s scaring you off, she’d told Victoria after another night analyzing their last four encounters.

“Fine. But just know I’m telling ma. Maybe she’ll stop being mean to Tor.”

“Ignore Bella. She’s been glaring, but I think Sonny talked sense into her at Thanksgiving. She’s mad at both of them now.”

“As she should be,” he shrugged, kissing Victoria. “See ya for pictures.”

“See ya,” she grinned, ignoring his sisters’ squeals. This marathon made her kind of tired. Her hair and makeup were done soon enough, and she was grateful the dress was a dusty, dark enough pink in person to look good on her. She liked pink on Sonny, especially since the sides of his brunette hair had started going gray, against the blue of his eyes. The bridesmaids, the two Carisi sisters, Victoria, and a couple of Bella’s friends, all posed together in the matching silky robes before slipping their dresses on. 

“And you thought that pink wouldn’t look good,” Sonny said softly against her ear before kissing her cheek. 

“You like it?” Her hands rested on his shoulders as she smiled up at him, and he felt giddy. It was official. This was how they acted before, no almost needed. 

“I do. Beautiful color on you. And damn, my wife got a figure.”

“You’re the best hypeman,” she hummed as she straightened his tie. “I ever told you how handsome you look in a suit? Or how pretty pink makes your eyes?”

“I can stand to hear it again.” There was the cocky smile he got sometimes. “I’m starting to look old, doll.”

“Nah. Getting hotter.”

“Even with the gray?” He’d been self conscious about it before, when the evenly dispersed gray in his dark hair could be mistaken for a dirty blonde. His temples gave him away now, but she loved it.

“Even hotter with the gray.”

“Stop being gross,” Teresa whined. “It’s like when you were getting ready for homecoming again.” She was rewarded with her brother and sister-in-law’s middle fingers, and Victoria was pleased with Gianna’s disapproval and the picture the photographer snapped. They took pictures, and Sonny was glad when they settled in the back of the venue. He could see the back of Olivia, Barba, Amaro, and Rollins’ heads, and the change in his dynamic with Victoria had him looking forward to showing her off at the reception. 

“Shoes off at the reception. I intercept ma?”

“How’d you know?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m supporting ninety percent of your weight, Tor.”

“Love you.”

“Do I need to hold ya until we walk?” 

“Not enough time to make a difference. But you’re a saint for offering.”

When Olivia saw Sonny with Victoria on his arm, it made sense why he’d been calmer the last two weeks. He’d been texting her more, though he thought he was sneaky enough no one noticed how he smiled at his phone throughout the day. She seemed to smooth his edges, and she and Amanda shared a look over the way the pair watched each other across the front of the venue. The ceremony was a quick enough affair, and Bella had decided to let her bridal party sit wherever they wanted. That led to Victoria stepping out of her shoes, pleased to be spared a big entrance. Heels in hand, she followed Sonny to the table his squad was at before dropping into her seat and giving a wave.

“Means a lot to Bella and Tommy you all came,” Sonny said, taking her shoes and tucking the wall by his chair. “This is my wife, Victoria. Tor, meet Rafael Barba, Olivia Benson, Nick Amaro, and Amanda Rollins.”

“Nice to meet all of ya. I’ve heard a lot.”

“Wish we could say the same,” Rollins said, and Victoria immediately recognized what Sonny had meant. No venom. Just protective of her occasional partner. And Benson was definitely the mother hen, shooting the blonde a look as Amaro and Barba concealed smiles.

“Get it all out now,” she joked, rolling her eyes. “Married into this family nine years ago.”

“Been putting up with Carisi that long? I’ll petition the pope for sainthood.” The three piece suit. The snark. Barba was just what she expected. 

“Think she deserves it,” Sonny chuckled, arm flung easily over the back of her chair. “I can be a pain in the ass.”

Conversation started to flow easily, and he was glad Victoria was tough enough to bite back at Rollins and Barba when they referenced anything touchy. Tommy’s family filled out the rest of the table, and he was glad to see the trial had brought them around to agree that what happened to Tommy was wrong. Teresa and Tommy’s brother gave the speeches, and he liked seeing the squad join in as Bella threw the bouquet and Tommy threw the garter. 

“Bella caught my bouquet, remember?” Victoria smiled up at him.

“Yeah. And Freddy Esposito got the garter.”

“Both of ‘em got married this year.”

“Was delayed for us. Our friends from back then are just now getting married.” 

“We’ve been married nine years and aren't even thirty. I think we were ahead of the curve.”

“But now my baby sister is married and pregnant.”

“Dom, you do know she and I are the same age?” Sonny blinked, squinting at her. 

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

“We’re both twenty-seven.”

“No way Bella’s twenty-seven.”

“I like how you can fully separate me and Bella graduating together.”

“I forget,” he shrugged. “You always picked me anyway.”

“Then married you. Duh. Long game.”

“I hear people making noise.”

“They’re cutting the cake. Amaro has the garter half in his shirt pocket, and a three year old caught the bouquet. The same age you think Bella was when she caught mine.”

“Shut up,” he laughed, pulling her to stand at the edge of the dance floor to watch the first dance. His arms slid around her waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

“He wouldn’t have to stoop so low if you’d wear your damn shoes, stellina.”

“Ma, leave her be.” Gianna rolled her eyes, but Sonny squeezed Victoria as the music started. “She’s coming back around. Called ya stellina instead of Victoria.”

It was kind of fun to watch the four members of his work family loosen up around the room. Amaro and Rollins were across the dance floor and not fooling anyone. Barba wasn’t sure what to make of any of the Carisis or Sullivans, but since they’d easily figured out that Olivia was not involved with him, the singles from both families had circled the man who was suddenly the most eligible bachelor. The best part was how hard Olivia ignored his visual pleas to be saved as she talked to one of Tommy’s uncles. It was nice not pretending work and personal life were separate; the squad had taken him in like he hadn’t anticipated, and now his family was taking the chance to accept his squad. 

When the first dance was over, Sonny pulled her onto the dance floor, holding her flush against him in a way he hadn’t been brave enough to before. They’d talked every day the last two weeks, and he’d realized they really had hit the turning point. The songs weren’t slow, so his chest was against her back as his hand splayed over her stomach as they swayed. Both their voices were off key as they sang along to each song with the rest of the guests on the floor. Nick and Amanda were wrapped up in each other, and Olivia and Rafael seemed perfectly entertained, so he didn’t feel bad slipping out after a couple hours. 

“I know you two. Go ahead and dip. You stayed for all the important parts,” Bella had grinned, bumping Victoria’s hip with her own. “I’m the only sober one here, so this is gonna wrap up earlier than anyone realizes. Baby and I gotta sleep.”

“You sure?” 

“Positive, Tor.” That was all it took for Sonny to lace their fingers, duck out of the venue, and start the couple of blocks to their hotel. At first, she wore the heels and walked,  but he quickly realized it was the shoes, not the wine, making her unsteady.

“That’s it,” he said, squatting in his suit. “Hop on.”

“My bag’s heavy.”

“I can handle it, babe.”

“You sure?”

“You don’t hop on, we’re going spider monkey front carry, and we both know that always ends in me tripping more.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and Sonny held her thighs, careful to keep the fabric under his palms to save her some modesty. When they were outside the room, she slipped the key from his breast pocket, helping him push the door open before he dropped her on the bed. 

“Thank you,” she sighed, toeing the pumps off and letting them fall. 

“Glad to be of service.” A little salute as he started to strip out of the suit and hang it. “Thanks for always ditching early for pajamas with me.”

“Glad to be of service.” She hung the dress and tucked the strapless bra away, and when Sonny turned from the closet, he saw her in the oversized sweatshirt again as she pulled the blankets back on the bed. He hadn’t bothered for two. They’d had that option every time but hadn’t used it when they were fighting. 

“Comfy?” He ran a hand through his hair, breaking up the gel before flopping beside her.

“Very.”

“It’s literally nine o’clock. Are we old, Tor?”

“Old? No. Codependent? Maybe.”

“We been living apart a year and a half. Maybe we’re just a clique.”

“Very true. We’re like if the plastics were millennials who had been married a decade.”

“We should write that script.”

“Forget law school. Teen movie parodies based around our marriage.”

“Perfect. I’ll drop all my classes tomorrow.”

“I missed you. It’s been nice talking all the time.”

“I missed you too,” he murmured, watching her with his cheek pressed to the pillow. 

“Regardless of if you’re ready to tell me, I wanna keep talking a lot.”

“I’m ready. I just was going to wait. Don’t wanna ruin our weekend.”

“I feel like you’re going to tell me and realize I don’t care as much as you thought. Unless you fucked somebody.”

“First, last, and only, Tor.” He rolled onto his back, taking a deep breath, and Victoria knew him well enough to know this really was going to be the moment. She sat up, legs tucked beneath her. Leaning towards him a little, she put her hand on his chest and rubbed what she hoped were soothing circles as he put his hands behind his head. When he was nervous, Sonny talked to the ceiling, just needing her to anchor him.

“Just trust me, okay?”

“I trust you, vita mia,” he murmured, and that particular Italian term of endearment let her know it was really happening. “You remember when my hours changed? End of 2011. Became a detective. Acted funny when you took me upstate. A year before I fucked up and forgot your birthday bakery combo dinner.”

“Of course.”

“I was working homicide.”

“Okay?”

“It really fucked me up, Tor. What I seen, it was so bad. The women. There were so many women, and they’d be so pristine. One of them was in a fuckin’ dumpster even. But he took all the time to give her a bath and do her make up and get her dressed. And you know what that always told me?”

“What?” she whispered, taking the hand that went from behind his head to rest on top of hers.

“It was their husband or boyfriend. The person who they trusted. And their faces were so peaceful, Victoria. They knew what was coming. And I’d go talk to people. You know what they’d say? They weren’t surprised. They’d seen it. They’d heard it. Those men hurt their wives and girlfriends. Took advantage of the fact they trusted and loved them. I started seeing you when I saw them, Tor.”

“Sonny,” she whispered, hating the way his voice sounded. It was thick with emotion, and he’d closed his eyes. She was well aware that if he opened them, they’d be rimmed red and tears would be falling. “This is what you couldn’t tell me?”

“You’re so proud of me. I didn’t want to disappoint you. I couldn’t sleep and it hurt so badly. I’d wake up freaking because I thought it was you. I’d never hurt you, but my brain just- I don’t know. And then you’re so good. You deal with cakes and fondant and cannoli and things that make people happy. I was so scared that if I talked about it, it would blot out the light in you. I felt like the only light I had was you. I think I pulled away because of that and it snowballed. When it got so bad, the last six months? It got to the point I thought all that darkness and the stuff I was seeing and the stuff my brain was picturing would- fuck- leak into you through osmosis or something. When I wanted to tell you, my brain would just change the words I wanted to say.”

“Sonny, I didn’t know it was like that,” she murmured. 

“You couldn’t have known. I wouldn’t tell you.”

“I should have figured it out.”

“Don’t do that, doll. If you’re willing to trust me to tell you moving forward, I just want to move forward.”

“I shouldn’t have left, Dominick. You were hurting, and I just abandoned you.”

“I was depressed. I should have told you or talked to someone. Being depressed doesn’t make it okay to neglect you. I need to take care of myself.”

“And I should have stuck with you. Figured out the why.”

“You did though. I’ve known that I can come to you for the last two years. I just couldn’t get past myself. Doc’s been working through it with me. Says I gotta learn that dad bottling it up wasn’t good. It works better for him and ma because she couldn’t read him when they met. I never had to tell you so I didn’t know how. And then dad doesn’t believe in men sharing their feelings. It’s easy to ignore that for the good feelings. I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t tough enough.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you how I was feeling. I knew you saw dark stuff and I was scared to make it worse. I didn’t want to pressure you.”

“Are we okay?” His voice was almost pleading, barely a whisper as his eyes finally opened to look at her. She laid against him, cupping his cheek as his hand flew to rest on hers. They were both crying, and she hated it. She hated to know that it was such a stupid miscommunication. If she’d pressed on it, taken guesses, asked around, maybe she could’ve helped him not hurt. This new squad seemed good for him, and therapy was helping. She probably needed to address their relationship more in therapy, learn how to ask for what she needed. They had to an extent, helping her hold out as long as she had for him to open up.

“We’re okay, Sonny. I’m so proud of you.” She was nudging his nose with her own, not dropping his gaze. 

“Thank you for being so patient.”

“I’d have waited for ya forever. First, last, and only, Sonny.”

“Come home.”

“We gotta consolidate now,” she teased gently. “But I’ll come home.”

“It’s in Brooklyn now. You’ll like it. I didn’t even get rid of that stupid dog statue.”

“He’s a very important dog statue.” 

“I love you, you weirdo.”

“I love you too, nerd.” He missed laughing with her, even when they were both crying. The relief that flooded him was suddenly exhausting. Not telling her had been heavy on him for a long time, but he didn’t expect his body’s physical response to the openness. He felt like he did before he went on this pointless journey to hide the bad parts of his field from her. She knew what he did. She kissed him, slow and sweet and loving, and Sonny’s arms snaked around her. They’d kissed plenty since she left, but there was always a hesitance behind it. Unsureness around their status. Now, he was kissing his wife, not his estranged wife. Even if it took time, they were working towards her coming back home. They hadn’t had sex since their ill fated first run in post separation. It was slow and sentimental, and afterwards, he had a half second of panic she’d disappear. Instead of pulling away like his gut wanted, he curled around her frame, nuzzled into the crook of his neck. 

“I missed that,” he murmured. 

“Me too.” She rested her hand on his, and he could feel that she was smiling in how her cheeks moved. He felt greedy, wanting to feel every bit of her skin he was able to before he fell asleep. When he woke to find her still there, he was relieved, and even better, she’d twisted in the night, leg hooked over his hip and her chest pressed to his. They’d spent most of the night talking or tangled together, so they’d slept in until ten o’clock. He checked his phone to be sure everyone had made it through the night before. Once he reminded his mom he was spending the weekend and really wouldn’t be at Sunday dinner, he settled back in to watching her. After a while, she started to stir, pulling him closer. She’d been right, everything had changed once he told her. He didn’t feel like he had to keep any space between them.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, and she stretched her arms over her head.

“Heya, handsome.” She pressed a kiss to his lips, and it took all his attention not to take her again. He’d made plans for the day, and he was determined to stick to them. Even if they hadn't reconciled, she was a sucker for the beach, even when it was cold, so he’d planned to take her to lunch, take her to get her nails done, and take her to walk the little shops he’d found. It would make her smile, and he’d missed the little trips they’d taken before. Other than going to the cabin, something she’d planned, it had been years between work and school and money. For their tenth anniversary, he was already planning, even though there was just over a year to plan. He wanted to take her back to New Orleans, just the pair of them together now and no disappointment on her part that her mom was there but ignoring her. 

“I planned a day for us.” His hands trailed her spine, and he realized something else had shifted since he told her the reality. While he thought it wasn’t possible, he felt even closer to her. The men in his family, though well intentioned, had always told him it would be viewed as weaker to share his emotional world with anyone. They thought it was a little girly for him to be as sappy with her as he tended to be, tearing up at weddings and when he talked about how proud of her he was. But the bad things? Those were weaknesses that would drive her away. The realization that the depression and inability to separate work from her didn’t scare her off made him realize that letting her see it wasn’t going to break them. Hell, it seemed to bring her closer.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Lunch on the beach. Little walk on the beach after. Manicure- I know you, Tor. Don’t try to say you got one for Bella’s weddin. You love them but won’t take yourself ever- and then we can walk around some of the little shops and stuff.”

“That sounds like a real romantic day, Dom.”

“What can I say? I learned my lesson about not being romantic.”

“I’m excited to come home.”

“Me too, Tor.”

Tag: @cycat4077 @fear-less-write-more

[hyunrun]

Dream SMP/Batfam

This is my reasoning for connections between Dream SMP members and the Bats. This was all just for fun, but feel free to give feedback if you’d like! And do say if I’ve made a mistake. I haven’t done everyone, so if there’s anyone else you’d like me to do, lemme know! Please read, I spent a good while on this :D

Batman (Bruce Wayne)/Technoblade: Technoblade's Dream SMP origin story starts with his parents dying, so the backstory fits. He swears to kill all orphans because of the way they killed his parents (Similar to the way Bruce wanted to stop crime from running rampant in Gotham). Techno is also, technically, an orphan as Bruce was. I've always imagined Bruce's voice to be kinda like Techno's, especially that monotone tone he uses, and especially when he's Batman and not Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne is -Bat-man and Technoblade is a pig, need I elaborate? Both of them seem to stay up till ungodly times of the day, and I'm sure their sleep schedules are never on the same clock as anyone else's, Bruce's because of his vigilante lifestyle and Techno because... well, he's a Minecraft YouTuber. Both of them have a father figure, although not biological. They also have a friendly rivalry with a fellow content creator/hero (Cough Dream/Superman cough). We say Dick/Wilbur is dramatic, but you can't possibly mean to tell me Batman/Technoblade isn’t subtly more dramatic. They practically invented being dramatic in their respective businesses.

Alfred Pennyworth/Philza Minecraft: Is the father figure to Batman/Technoblade. Is really a force of chaos but everyone pictures them as a soft, loving dad because we all have parental issues and we need more father figures. Both of them are very badass in their own ways. Old and British. Here's a parallel I thought was pretty cool. Philza had been building up his hardcore world for 5 years before he died. It was like his home disappeared in front of his eyes as he fell away from his life. I'm not sure which continuity/arc this is from (Please do not hate on me, I am but a small child) bUT I do know that Alfred died of a heart attack/stroke at the same time the Wayne Manor was destroyed. His home was destroyed as he died. Just as Philza's had been.

Damian Wayne/TommyInnit: Is never really loved by anyone at first glance (From the fandoms). Tommy's the loud, annoying one, Damian's the grouchy, haughty one. But everyone eventually gravitates towards their characters later on. Their families were wary of them at first but grew to love them. Both of them are the youngest, and generally angriest child. Both are not American, Tommy being British and Damian, Arabic. They both have ICONIC mothers. MotherInnit is a queen, we all know this. If she can handle Tommy, she can handle absolutely anything. Talia Al Ghul has a reputation of her own right, and while she hasn't quite the pristine repertoire, she definitely strikes a strong mark on people. Now, this is a dumb connection between the two, but hair!! Tommy’s seems nice and floofy while Damian's is generally drawn spiky, and I think that's a cool contrast. Their love for pets is also important to note. Tommy's the one that's known for starting wars over the deaths of his pets, and it's easy to know that Damian wouldn't hesitate to hurt someone if they did anything to Titus or Batcow. It’s been shown on multiple occasions that he loves his pets a lot.

Jon Kent/Tubbo_: Best friends with Tommy/Damian. Do not try to argue that Jon and Damian aren't best friends because come onnn. And PLEASE do not take this as a dumb excuse to ship Tommy and Tubbo, as I know people ship Dami and Jon. Both are the embodiment of chaos wrapped in kindness, and both are definitely the more stable of their friendship with the other gremlin children. I am confident that both would probably refer to their parents as mother and father dearest. You cannot convince me otherwise. Tubbo has already done so, and Jon would never disrespect his parents, so this would obviously be the next best alternative for when he is upset by them. Jon’s powers fluctuate upon shifts in emotion and he can’t really control his powers, like the shifting of Tubbo’s alter egos. We never know when Toob or Big Law will creep out of the shadows.

Dick Grayson/Wilbur Soot: (Second) most dramatic in the family, though perceived as the drama queen because of their boisterous personalities. The one that was probably a theatre kid in school. The lighthearted one that keeps everyone cheerful, but also the one with the easiest path to a horrid descent into madness. They have a flair for drama, the glitter and sparkles to Batman/Technoblade’s sombre smoke and haze, which is why they work together so well. The closest family member to Tommy/Damian. Their little brother/big brother dynamics are just impeccable. Both are the most simped for by their respective fanbases (from what I’ve seen). The token pretty boys. Both artistically talented in different ways, with Wilbur’s music and Dick’s acrobatic skills. Also the ones that get constantly shipped with every woman they literally even look at. They also express their dramatic tendencies through their clothes, Dick with his jazzy Discowing suit and Wilbur’s dramatic L’manburg outfit.

Superman/Dream: The OP gods, need I say more? Friendly rivals with Technoblade/Batman. Very often perceived as ‘Perfect’ which they are not, but many refuse to accept that. A funny parallel I drew was the fact that both of them are famous in their own rights, but can just walk around and not get recognised despite millions of people knowing their online/superhero identities. Both are technically not human.

Stephanie (Batgirl/Spoiler)/Sapnap: Both of their names start with S! Not my only reasoning, but I’ll take it into account anyway. Both are basic looking in my head (Blue eyes blonde hair for Steph?? There’s at least 3 other girls that look EXACTLY like her in the nearby DC universes. And Sapnap blends in with every other white boy, though I love him regardless.) but both also have immaculate personalities to make up for it. They’re the most normal people out of all their co-streamers/superheroes in my eyes, also my favourites. (I didn’t realise as I put them together that I loved them most but here we are). They’re both great at dumb banter. They don’t have huge, hilarious bits often or any constant jokes that are pulled on time and time again, but their general atmosphere makes everything seem like a joke. They may not be the best at what they do in their friend groups but are actually really good nonetheless and do not get due credit for their effort and talent sometimes. Has a warring relationship with Damian/Tommy (Sapnap over the pets and Steph and Dami didn’t have the most friendly relationship at the start)

Jason/BBH- Same but opposite but same. Exists to cause chaos. I wouldn’t have associated these two with each other till the Badlands became a thing… but then the Badlands became a thing and I had to. Now, I know that technically Bad doesn’t have a grudge against Techno, but Jason would totally set up a whole empire just to mess with Bruce’s plans, just to get in the way, to instigate, to fan the flames of the fire till he’s driven Bruce to his breaking point. Bad isn’t exactly trying to do that, but he’s only around for the chaos. He’s only here for his own benefit, and he’s only here for that because of the hurt caused to him by the nation he came from. A parallel being Jason causing havoc because of the pain Bruce caused him. Besides, both have a cool red and black colour scheme, and both wear jacket!! Both are also technically not alive (If we're considering BBH as a demon).

Roy Harper/Skeppy: I have absolutely no explanation for this, but it just Fits. Besides, they have cool opposing colour schemes and are best friends with BBH/Jason!!

Aaaand last but not least

Jason/Technoblade: Now you must be thinking But Kaly you already spoke about them! And yes, I did, and they do go really well with their respective characters but I couldn’t simply ignore the connection between these two, so I thought I might as well write about it. Technoblade was an English major (If I remember correctly) before he dropped out to pursue his youtube career. Jason, though this may not be a well-known fact, was a definite literature nerd at school before he met his demise. Their cut off education in English is an interesting parallel to me. Both of them also have destructive tendencies, with Technoblade being an anarchist and Jason periodically running an underground empire to make sure he can do whatever the hell he wants to. They don’t generally care who they hurt on their way to reach their end goal. Jason’s reckless shooting and killing clearly shows this, as he continuously justifies his actions by saying he’s ending crime rather than just making it wait in line for its turn to pop up again, while Technoblade’s release of the withers and excessive use of his firework crossbow clearly shows that the deaths of the residents of L’manburg do not matter to him as long as he abolishes the government.

[2manyfandoms2count]

Friends who cook together...

I saw today's prompt for @auyeahaugust (College AU) and thought it would be the perfect opportunity to share the beginning of this fic I've been working on!

It's actually based on @e-milieeee's post, I couldn't resist the cooking trope 😬

Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 (gasp)

---

Lesson 1: Ratatouille

Adrien Agreste was the perfect man. Good-looking, hard-working, charming, he was the prime example of the son-in-law every parent wanted, and the people his age who didn't want to be him wanted to date him.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng wouldn't deny she might be classified in the latter category, although less so than when she was younger. She was good friends with the model now. Voluntarily so. You didn’t fight and defeat Paris’ number one villains for years, growing from a teenager into a young adult together, without getting close. Their respective crushes on each other had faded over time, but it didn’t mean they would’ve said no if all the circumstances aligned, although they wouldn’t have admitted it out loud.

The one thing Adrien Agreste wasn’t, though, was a good cook. Not that he didn’t have everything he could possibly need in his kitchen. The apartment he now lived in, although a huge step down from the Mansion that had once been his home (but what wouldn’t be), was still a lot bigger, and a lot more comfortable than what a normal student should have been able to afford.

It was a lot better equipped, too.

Marinette had told him the contractors were abusing his trust by installing things that were way more expensive than they ought to be, knowing he wouldn’t double check, but he’d waved her concerns away. With his father’s demise, he’d just wanted to move out as quickly as possible to avoid the crowds of paparazzi, and if signing a very large cheque could provide him with the knowledge the workers wouldn’t blab, then so be it. He couldn’t bring himself to sell the Mansion despite the knowledge it had been Hawkmoth’s lair the whole time -there were too many memories associated with his mother there- but he’d had some offers to rent it out for movie settings which would definitely cover the costs of keeping it, as well as his rent. He’d looked into his finances and put all the money he’d earned as a model in a bank account, and donated the rest to a fund to help Akuma victims. There was no way he was keeping his father’s dirty money when so many people had suffered at his hands.

Since then, Adrien had fallen into a nice little routine as he moved from Lycée to University. He made the most of his freedom by exploring every nook and cranny of Paris without anyone being able to say anything about it. No curfews, no limitations, but for his own tiredness and others’ private property, of course.

It left little time for him to learn basic cooking skills. He was often too tired to make anything when he came back from his nocturnal meanderings, so he went for the easy solution: food delivery. There were so many restaurants nearby he could’ve eaten something different every night for a month and still not have gone through all of the options. It was more diverse than anything he’d ever eaten, and it suited him just fine.

Little did he know that this habit would be disrupted by his best friend moving in next door.

Marinette had been looking for a new flat. Not that she didn’t enjoy living with her parents, but she found herself wanting a little more privacy now that she was at University. The reveal that she was Ladybug had brought a lot of attention to the Tom and Sabine bakery, which was good, but a lot of it was journalists prowling around in the hopes of getting an exclusive interview with her. She was tired of being pretty much mauled anytime she left the house, and although she could easily leave via the rooftops as Ladybug, she refused to let them dictate how and when she could get in and out. Which is why, when she’d seen the words “à louer” on a window of Adrien’s building as she visited him for their weekly game night, she didn’t think twice about calling the number. Adrien had been a step ahead of her, so the owners were expecting her call. A week later, she had officially moved into the flat across from his.

She hadn’t paid much attention to his habits at first. She was too busy settling in, and with all the planned evenings with Nino and Alya, plus the ones with the Miracuclass students who remained in Paris, she didn’t see how late he came back at night, and ordering in didn’t seem out of place. What better than a pizza for poker night? Or sushi for movie night? It was easy .

As winter settled in, though, and nights out dwindled to once every fortnight, she noticed the ballet of scooters and bikes that came almost at a fixed time every night. Generally when she was about to fall asleep, doing a grand job at waking her up. Groggily stalking up to the window one evening, she’d noticed Adrien meet the delivery person as he came back from wherever he’d been, paying his due and coming up. She’d dismissed it due to midterm season approaching, but exams had come and gone and things hadn’t changed. She kept an eye out, and after two additional weeks of seeing Adrien collect a brown paper bag, knowing fully well that he ate a sandwich every midday thanks to her father’s well-meaning gossip, she’d decided to take action. She couldn’t let her partner have such a questionable diet.

“What's it going to be tonight?” She asked, leaning arms crossed against her door frame one night as he appeared on the landing.

Adrien froze at the top of the stairs and looked at her like a deer caught in headlights.

“Er…“ He raked his mind for something, anything that would sound even remotely healthy, but nothing came. He sighed defeatedly. “None pizza with left beef.” He mumbled, his head lowered guiltily. He’d seen the meme the night before, and had wanted to try it out.

“What?”

He repeated a little louder.

“Okay that’s it, you’re coming over to my place for dinner.”

He knew from her tone of voice there’d be no arguing with her, so he sheepishly followed her inside her flat, still clutching his pizza box. He wasn’t too unhappy about the outcome, if he was honest. Marinette was a good cook. He’d have a nice meal tonight.

“What about the pizza?” He asked weakly.

“We can use it as… bread, or something.” The girl suggested, crinkling her nose at the thought. For someone who came from a long line of bakers and was part Italian, calling the contents of the box pizza or even bread seemed inherently wrong.

Adrien trailed a little behind her as she walked towards her kitchen, marveling at what she’d done with the place.

Marinette’s apartment mirrored his in terms of structure, but whereas his decoration was very minimalistic, hers was a lot more eclectic, without looking cluttered. Her furniture wasn’t a set, yet fit together very well and gave the space a cozy feel. The painted walls, as well as the coloured posters, curtains, rugs and cushions made it feel very homey. He wanted nothing more than sit on her sofa and snuggle under the knitted blanket with her to watch a movie.

Platonically, of course.

Adrien walked into the kitchen and was greeted by the pastel yellow of the walls and warm lighting. Her utensils provided nice splashes of colour that brightened up the room. He particularly appreciated the Ladybug-themed colander that was drying next to the sink.

“If you look in that bottom draw,” she indicated with her foot before reaching for a jar of dried rice in a cupboard, “you should find some saucepans, if you could take two out please, Chaton.”

He obliged, resisting the temptation to lift her up to help her. He knew she wouldn't appreciate it.

“Can I put you in charge of cooking the rice?” She asked, handing him the packet. Adrien accepted it but looked at her quizzically.

“Sure!” He replied excitedly. “Do you have the instructions anywhere?”

Marinette stopped in the middle of washing vegetables she’d taken out of the fridge and squinted her eyes as she gauged whether or not he was joking. He seemed genuinely at loss for what to do.

“Have you never prepared rice before?”

“No?”

“It’s like pasta.” His clueless face made her sigh defeatedly. “You’ve never made pasta either, haven’t you.”

“Does instant ramen count? Or pasta boxes?” He flinched slightly.

“How you’re still alive and actually fit is beyond me.” She rolled her eyes. “Right, I guess we really are starting with the basics then. Consider this lesson number one: pour some water in that saucepan.”

She moved away from the sink to allow him to access it, but stayed close enough to be able to turn the tap off for him. He clearly had no idea of how much water was needed.

“Right, now put the saucepan on the hob, and turn it on.” She saw a smirk spread on his face. “And don’t even think about making a joke, I know what it sounded like!”

“You’re no fun, Buguinette.” He pouted, pressing the button she indicated.

“Add a little salt, and then we’ll just let it come to a boil.”

Next, she handed him a chopping board and tomatoes. She hesitated before giving him a knife. “Can I trust you not to cut yourself?”

“Har har.” He grabbed the knife. “Joke’s on you, because salad is actually the only thing I know how to make. How do you want these?”

She resisted making a comment on how knowing how to make salad wasn't something he really could brag about. “Sliced. We’re making ratatouille.”

“Ooh, nice!”

He listened as she talked him through the recipe, impressed by the fact she didn’t need a cookbook to remember how to prepare it. She taught him how to prepare an aubergine, which he could recognise thanks to the emoji, but could not imagine how to bring to an edible form.

“We just want to sear them in some oil with the courgettes, then we’ll let them cook gently with the rest of the vegetables and the herbs.”

He’d been quite dainty on the amount of herbes de Provence he’d added, which had prompted her taking his hand and shaking the spice pot to cover the tomatoes with it.

He looked at her concentrated expression as she stirred the pan and couldn’t help but smile, his hand still hovering above the hob.

Marinette looked at him inquisitively. “What?”

“Nothing.” She raised her eyebrows. “I just forgot how cute you are when you’re bossy.”

Marinette stammered in response, her cheeks pinking. It didn't matter how at ease she felt with Adrien now, she still couldn't take a compliment from him. He grinned and took advantage of her distraction to steal the wooden spoon from her and taste the dish.

“Authorisation to add a little salt?” He asked, refilling the spoon with ratatouille for her.

She took it, trying not to focus on the fact his lips had been just where hers were. She let the flavours flood her palet thoughtfully.

"Authorisation granted."

She smiled fondly as Adrien excitedly added missing spices to the mix.

"See? I am a competent cook!" He added with a satisfied smile.

"Please, you're barely a sous-chef." Marinette snorted. She backtracked her slightly harsh words seeing her partner's pout. "Don't worry though, you'll get the hang of it! It's just a question of practising." She rubbed his back encouragingly. "Would making the plates pretty make you feel better?"

"I think so." He mock sniffled.

Marinette made a point of taking out her Chat Noir plates, which she'd been planning on keeping for special occasions. The way Adrien's face lit up upon seeing them made the fact they were her only dishes that couldn't be dishwashed seem irrelevant. Adrien made a mental note to try and find matching Ladybug ones, although he wasn't sure if he would be gifting them to her or keeping them for himself.

Marinette busied herself with tidying up the kitchen and laying the cutlery as he worked on the presentation. Had her phone been nearby, she would've taken a picture of him as he blepped in concentration.

"Does this look good enough for Madame la Chef ?" He asked as he presented the plates to her. He'd positioned the vegetables around the rice so as to make it look like a flower.

"It's perfect, Chaton." She kissed the top of his head as she passed behind him with a packet of smoked ham. She rolled the slices into little roses and planted them in the rice.

"A table?" She asked as she finally sat down opposite him.

Adrien dug in before she could say bon appétit .

---

When Adrien came home from his morning run a couple of days later, a fresh croissant in hand, he found a conscientiously wrapped package on his doormat. The black polka dots on the field of red were a dead giveaway as to who it was from. He grinned as he picked it up and opened the door.

Breakfast and washed hands later, he sat on his couch, facing the present. He was torn between tearing the wrapping, or being civilised about it. Before he could choose, Plagg flew nearby and obeyed his cat instincts, swiftly disappearing back into his Camembert cabinet with a grin to avoid his holder's reprimands.

"Je sais cuisiner." He read the title and laughed, holding the book in front of him. It was an old edition, a yellow hardback with a picture of the author on the cover.

A post-it note stuck out from the top of the book. He opened it to get to the bookmarked recipe.

For Adrien - saw this and thought of you! Since you're so keen on instructions, this might do the trick! Feel free to use it often ;-)

Love, Marinette

P.S.: I suggest we try this recipe next!

Adrien read through the page, and felt his stomach grumble. He was very pleased at the thought that something had reminded her of him and that she'd bought it for him. The "love" and the fact she was obviously looking forward to repeating their cooking experience were added bonuses.

He himself could hardly wait.

[superbadassnatural]

Falling in Love

Summary: Sam has been in love with Y/N for quite a while and he does everything to win her heart. Square filled: Courting/courtship rituals (spntfwbingo) // Free Space (spnsongchallengebingo: Kiss me - Ed Sheeran) Pairing: Sam x Reader Word count: 4,624 Warnings: fluff and only fluff A/N: this was written for @spntfwbingo and @spnsongchallengebingo! I really enjoyed writing this one. This story was mildly inspired by The Vampire Diaries 3.14. The gifs are mine (I just learned how to make and I’m so happy). Oh, and this is the dress in case you’re wondering. Hope you enjoy it!

The sound of your heels echoed through the hall as you walked out of the elevator and headed to your office. The small chatter, the non stop pacing and the tired eyes were common things on Monday mornings.

“Good morning, Olivia,” you greeted your personal assistant as you stopped by her desk.

“Good morning, Y/N,” her lips curled into a sweet smile. “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, you know, just lots of work. I’ve been working on this case and the court hearing is next week so it’s taking a toll on me. Other than that I binged watch The Walking Dead,” you shrugged. “How about you? Did you go out with Thomas?”

“I did,” she sighed as she finished typing. “He’s not that fun. I think we just didn’t click.”

“That sucks.”

“Yep, but I had fun this weekend. Had some quality ‘me’ time. Although I need to catch up on The Walking Dead,” she chuckled.

“You do. It’s really great. I’m loving it.”

“Morning, gorgeous,” his voice echoed in your ears as he walked past you.

“Morning, ass,” you said as you turned to him, only to see his back as he headed to his office.

“Morning to your ass, too,” Sam said before shutting his door and winking at you.

“When are you going to give him a chance?”

“Never?” you scoffed.

“C’mon, Y/N,” Olivia nearly whined. “Sam likes you and deep down you like him too.”

“Liv, we work together. It would never work.”

“We work together and we are still friends,” she argued, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“It’s different and you know it,” you sighed. “Alrighty, guess I have to get my work started then. Oh and get us some coffee, please.”

“Roger that.”

She stood up and headed to the coffee machine down the hall as you walked towards your office. You opened the door and the first thing your eyes landed on was the bouquet of pink and orange-ish roses sitting on your desk. As usual, there was a champagne envelope in the middle of them. You opened and again you found yourself amazed by his calligraphy.

You look gorgeous today, Y/N. As always. Fondly, Sam

A smile made its way to your lips as you read his words. He was so sweet. A good way to start your day.

After turning on your computer, you sent Olivia a message, asking her to get you a vase. You placed the envelope in your purse. Once you get home, you’re going to put it in your box along with all the notes and letters he had sent you.

Although you only met Sam on your first day working on Winchester’s Legal Firm, your mother was friends with Mary. After you graduated from Harvard she told Mary you were a lawyer looking for a job. John contacted you and set up a job interview.

The first time you walked in the building, you were mesmerized. It was enormous. It looked exactly like a law firm from the tv shows you used to watch. On your first day, John introduced you to Sam, his youngest son who had chosen to stay in the family business. At the time, it had been three years since he’d graduated from Stanford. Sam helped you get settled in and showed you around the firm.

You had started small. At first you got small cases and sometimes a more experienced lawyer would help you out and guide you. John made sure you got help from the best lawyers in the company. Sometimes you felt like you were treated differently because you were the daughter of a friend, but when you brought it up to him, he denied. He said he did that for everyone starting in his company. You knew that wasn’t true.

Nowadays you work on cases that appear on the news. Your face appeared on tv a few times. You found it odd when you saw yourself on the news during prime time. Your mom would always send a picture of the screen of her television with you in it, telling you she was proud. Sam did that sometimes too. He’d shoot you a message saying how beautiful you were or how your voice sounds so perfect when it echoes in his home.

A soft knock on your door pulled your attention away from your screen.

“C’mon in,” the door opened and revealed Olivia with the vase you asked.

“Wow, these are gorgeous,” she said as her eyes landed on the bouquet. “And smell good too.”

“Yeah, they do,” you smiled, placing the flowers in the vase. “I bet his PA chose these ones. He usually gets me blue roses or dahlias or even sunflowers,” you shrugged.

“Trust me, he chose these,” she said. “I have known Sam Winchester since I was fifteen, he wouldn’t ask for someone else to buy flowers for the girl he likes.”

“He doesn’t like me, Liv,” you shook your head. “He likes flirting with me. He likes courting me like I’m some damsel,” you explained to her with a roll of your eyes. “He likes the idea of me. That’s it.”

“Sure, Y/N, keep telling yourself that,” she sighed exasperated. “You need anything?” you shook your head and she walked out of your office.

You had much more important things to focus on than Sam’s feelings for you and his attempts to win your heart.

When you first met Sam, he was shy and mostly quiet, but as the time passed, he became more comfortable around you. Then you both started flirting and joking around. When feelings started to get in the way, things escalated to another level. Whilst Sam grew more caring and started trying to win your heart, you tried to put some distance between you. Sam is adorable and he’s a boyfriend material, but you worked together. You worked for his father. Sam never gave up though you gave him every reason why it wasn’t going to work. He didn’t even bother to hide his feelings from others. Everyone knew he liked you and that he bought you flowers every now and then. Sam has been courting you for about a year now. You enjoyed everything he did for you. He bought you nice gifts — some of which were really expensive — along with cute notes or letters. Every now and then something would be delivered at your home or your office. At the beginning, you tried to return it to him, but he wouldn’t take it back, so you stopped bothering.  

Later that day, you heard familiar soft knocks on the door. You muttered a ‘come in’ as you looked through the papers scattered on your desk.

“Hey,” he smiled, shutting the door behind him. “How you doing?”

Sam was wearing his graphite suit with a marigold tie. He looked so damn good in those. It should be a crime.

“Hey,” you glanced up at him, eyes meeting his hazel ones. “I’m tired and stressed. You?”

“I’m okay,” he sat on your desk. “Still working on that murder case?”

“Yeah,” you stretched as a yawn left your lips. “I have to be in court again next Tuesday. Can’t wait to get this over with.”

He smiled sympathetically. His hazel eyes roamed around the room in search of something you couldn’t quite point out.

“D’you like it?” his head motioned to the flowers that were now decorating your bookcase.

“I did. They are gorgeous,” you stood from your seat, walking towards the shelf. “Your assistant knows which ones to buy,” you scoffed.

“What makes you think Charlie bought these?” he asked, standing beside you.

“Well, you certainly don’t have the time to go out and buy a bouquet of flowers for me, Winchester.”

“I do. It takes some time to choose which one I think you’d like better, but it’s worth it,” he shrugged. “Also, I really aced the color of the flowers. See, they match your clothes,” a cocky smile hung on his lips as his fingers motioned to your clothes.

He was right. It did match. You were wearing a cream bow neck blouse and bright pink pants along with nude heels.

“This one is the same color as your pants,” he pointed and you chuckled. “You coming to the ball next Saturday?”

“I dunno,” you pursed your lips, heading back to your desk. “I’m not really in the mood and I don’t have a fancy gown.”

“You should come. It’s the company’s 50th anniversary. My mom has been planning this party for a long time and she would love to see you there,” he tried to convince you. “As for the dress, that can be arranged.”

“Sam, don’t,” you warned him with wide eyes.

“Argh, fine,” he sighed. “I should probably let you get back to work.”

————

You unlocked the door to your home. A feeling of relief washing through your body as you stepped inside. There was nothing better than coming home after an exhausting day of work.

Relaxing on the shower, you washed your body. The stress leaving you with every stroke of your loofah over your skin. You needed this. After drying yourself and putting on some baggy clothes, you headed to the kitchen to make yourself dinner.

The doorbell rang. You jumped and then frowned. You weren’t expecting anyone. Opening the door, you noticed no one was there, but a paper bag was on your doorstep. You picked it up and brought it inside. You opened and a paper with his gorgeous handwriting sat on top of the things he bought.

Olivia told me you needed these...

Inside the paper bag there were some chocolate bars, gummy bears, chips and protein bars. At the bottom, you found a box of ibuprofen and another of ketoprofen along with another note.

Thought you might need these too. Also, in case you want something warm to cuddle and keep the pain away, text me and I’ll grab my pillow and come over ;p

You smiled at his words. He was so caring. It was the first time he did this kind of thing. As much as you were in complete awe over his endearment, you were also pissed that he knew when you were on your period. Damn you, Liv.

You thanked him over text and said you had a heating pad to cuddle and it was pretty capable of keeping the pain away, teasing him. Sam… he cared too much about you. He was investing his time and spending his money in a possible relationship that didn’t have a future.

---------

The days flew as you kept yourself busy with your big case and a few small ones. After the court hearing, everything became lighter. You had won the case and the defendant was given a life sentence without the possibility of parole. You were happy with how that had turned out.

As Saturday came closer, all everyone talked about was the company’s anniversary party. A part of you wanted to go. You needed to let yourself loose a little and spending some time with your colleagues outside of work would be great. But another part of you wanted to stay home, relaxing on your bathtub and binge-watching your favorite tv show. You still haven’t decided yet.

Every year, Mary and John threw fancy parties for the company’s anniversary. This time it’s going to be even fancier. A ball for its fiftieth birthday. It was a big deal so it deserved a bigger celebration. You understood that, but you didn’t like going to balls. You didn’t even have a long fancy dress to begin with. And you weren’t so sure you’d have fun at such a formal event. Olivia said she’d lend you a dress. She was the same size as you so it would fit, but you still weren’t sure if you were going to go.

You finished typing in your computer just as your clock marked it was time to go home. Fridays were usually busy and stressful, but not today and for that you were glad. Grabbing your purse, you walked out of the building and went straight for your car, starting the engine. You couldn’t wait to get home. Everyone had a day off tomorrow because of the party. You had less than twenty four hours to decide whether you should go or not. For now, at least until you get home, you will ignore the messages asking if you were going. They will know when you decide. And for them, you mean Sam, Olivia, and Mary.

Mary was friends with your mother. Although you only met her later when you filled an application to work in her firm, she liked you a lot. When you were a teenager you had heard many stories of her and your mom about their high school years. You had seen many pictures of her, but never had seen her in person. She cared a lot about you. She’d always tell you to give her son a chance. She said he deserved a person like you, but you just brushed it off and told her it wouldn’t work and he would only get hurt.

As you parked your car, you noticed a maroon package on your doorstep. Your eyebrows knitted into a frown. That was odd. You haven't ordered anything. You picked it up and walked inside. After locking the door and placing your purse over the counter, you headed to your room with the box in your hands. This could only be Sam. You placed it in your bed. It was a beautiful box, it had a cream satin ribbon tied into a bow. You sucked in a deep breath before opening it. What did he buy you this time?, you wondered.

Opening the box, a sapphire blue gown revealed itself before your eyes. You gasped. Sam had bought you expensive stuff before, but this was on a whole new level. You stared wide-eyed at the dress folded beautifully. You couldn’t find it in you to touch it. Slowly, your fingers reached for the satin, grazing over the material. This couldn’t be real. He didn’t do that. He couldn’t. At this point, you didn’t even want to know how much it cost him. Reluctantly, you took the gown in your hands, removing from the box. It was one of the most beautiful dresses you had ever seen. A cream envelope rested at the bottom of the box. Your name was written in a neat handwriting. You opened it and read the letter.

Save me a dance. Yours, Sam.

A smaller paper with his handwriting followed.

Olivia told me your size. Hope it fits. If it doesn’t, give me a call. I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night.

You stared fixed at the smaller note, slack-jawed. He has really gone through all that effort just to get you a gown for a ball you didn’t even know you were going. Well, now you had to despite wanting to go or not. Sam had really outdone himself this time.

Sam had bought you jewelry before and you were sure it was expensive as hell. Sometimes he brought your favorite dish to your office so you’d stop working and have lunch. He knew if he didn’t do that, you’d spend the afternoon without eating because you were too busy. He got flowers delivered to your office and to your home. He left you sticky notes just to let you know he was thinking about you. Once he met this guy that could draw realistic things and he asked him to draw you. He showed him his favorite picture of you and the man drew you. At the bottom of the paper, it said ‘this feels like falling in love’. Sam was everything you could ask for in a guy. Sometimes you wonder why you just didn’t let him all the way in. He had the potential to destroy you in ways no one ever could. That scared you.

————

Saturday had started just like any other day. Except it felt as if it was actually Sunday because you had the day off. You went grocery shopping and used some of your free time to clean your apartment. Although you didn’t like to admit it, you were nervous about tonight. You were afraid of meeting Sam in a tux and feeling something different when you looked at him. You had tried for so long to keep your feelings shutted down and buried in the bottom of your heart. Now they were just all over the place. They were on the gorgeous gown in the box. They were on the blue roses in your living room, on the bright pink roses in your office. They were on the face masks he bought you, on the bath bombs he knew you liked. They were impregnated on the necklaces and earrings in your drawer. Your home had pieces of him everywhere. Most important, he was in your mind and heart.

After a relaxing bath, you put on your robe and placed your make-up on the counter. You didn’t want to do something heavy but you also didn’t want something too light. As your hair dried out, you started working on your make-up. Your skin was already moisturized so you prepared it with primer before applying a light coat of foundation. Then concealer for a light coverage, followed by foundation powder, a bit of bronzer and blush here and there, and highlighter. So far, you were satisfied with the results. You opened your eyeshadow pallete and opted for lighter shades. After curling your eyelashes, you wriggle the brush of your favorite mascara across the roots of your lashes. Then you applied your favorite lipstick over your lips and finalized your makeup with setting spray. By the time you finished, your hair had almost completely dried out.

Your heart started to pound in your chest as you entered your bedroom. You stared at the gown that was now on hanger. It seemed that it would tear itself apart if you touched it. It was so beautiful. Silvery jewels along the bodice. Thin blue straps only made it look even more delicate. The long, sapphire blue, silk-pleated skirt had you swooning.

You shrugged off your robe, pooling around your feet, and walked towards the dress. Your fingers brushed over its skirt. Sucking in a deep breath, you removed the gown of the hanger and put it on. It fitted perfectly, just like you anticipated. You walked to the full length mirror and were mesmerized. Jaw-slacked, you absorbed all the details of the gown. It felt as if it was designed just for you. The color blue looked good on you. The gown hugged your body in all its smoothness. You turned a little to get a full glance, the skirt swooned around your ankles. In that moment, you have never felt so beautiful.

After waking up from your trance, you knew exactly which heels to put on. Few months ago, you bought this pair of white heels that held a little bit of silver and were extremely comfortable. They probably wouldn’t be visible, but they matched the dress perfectly. You picked a delicate necklace Sam gave you to go along.

Your hair was done in no time. You had opted for pinning it up in a loose and edgy updo. A few loose locks of hair graced your face.

You called an uber and in twenty minutes you found yourself in front of the hotel. A sign pointed to the right indicated the ball was that way. You took a deep breath before walking in that direction. Deep down, you were nervous, but you were also confident about the way you looked. This time you might actually fit in.

Your eyes widened as you stepped foot into the room. The decoration was in shades of gold and white with a little silvery here and there. Your eyes searched for him in the crowded room. It was inevitable. Everytime you’d walk into a room you knew Sam was in, your eyes wouldn’t stop roaming around the area in search of him. They found him. He wore a shiny black tuxedo along with a black tie. It fitted his body perfectly and only made his shoulder look broader. In other words, he was hot as hell.

In a matter of seconds, Sam’s hazel eyes found yours. His gaze fixed on you. He had to use every last ounce of his strength to not to gasp. Yet, his lips parted. How did you manage to look even more beautiful? Sam couldn’t hear what his coworkers were talking about. He couldn’t hear the music playing. His attention was solely on you. Your lips curled into a smile as you held up your hand and mouthed a “hi” before making your way to Mary and John.

“Y/N,” Mary beamed, hugging you. “You look beautiful, sweetie. I’m so glad you came.”

“Yeah, I’m glad too,” you smiled.

“Please, help yourself. I think your friends are here already. If you need anything, just look for us,” she winked, leaving to welcome other guests.

Before you had the chance to walk to your friends, Sam approached you, offering you a glass of champagne.

“You look stunning tonight,” his eyes glistening as he stared at you.

“Thank you,” you smiled, as you sipped at your glass. “For everything. I mean, if you didn’t buy me this gown, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, you know, I was just passing by then I saw this dress on a shop window and thought of you.”

“Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that,” you scoffed. “I think I owe you a dance, don’t I?”

“You do,” he smiled, placing yours and his empty glasses on a table nearby.

You noticed him signaling to someone, before he held out his hand. You gladly took it and let him walk you to the center of the room. A few people were dancing. The song ended and a slower one filled your ears. One you knew too well. Your lips curled into a smile.

His right hand made its way to your lower back. Your left hand resting on his shoulder as the other held his big, rough hand. As your eyes met his hazel orbs, everyone seemed to dissolve around you.

Settle down with me Cover me up Cuddle me in Lie down with me And hold me in your arms

The rhythm of the song guided your movements. For the first time, you were nervous around Sam Winchester. He pulled you a little closer and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

And your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed in my neck I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now

“Someone once sent me a playlist they created with songs that reminded them of me. This song was the first one and they said it was their favorite,” you teased.

“I wonder who that is,” he smirked.

“Oh, you know, just some guy I happen to have a thing for.”

Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved

The warm pressure of his hand on the small of your back made uncontrollable feelings surge through your body. You were overwhelmed. You had let him in. All the way in. Sam Winchester has won your heart. There was no holding back now. Your body was acting on its own, it was at his mercy.

He leaned his head closer to yours. “This feels like falling in love. Falling in love. We're falling in love,” he whispered ever so softly against your ear.

Settle down with me And I'll be your safety You'll be my lady I was made to keep your body warm But I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms

You drew him closer to you. It felt as if you couldn’t get enough of him. Your eyes glistened as you stared at his beautiful face.

Oh no My heart's against your chest, your lips pressed in my neck I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet And with this feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now

He was so close. His breath fanning at your cheeks. Once again you let him sway your body around and around, your gown billowing out. His face was perfect. His hazel eyes held a spark every time he looked at you. His slightly parted lips only made you want to taste them. You love him. Simple as that.

Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love

You couldn’t refrain your eyes from staring at his pink lips. They were so kissable. You were drawn to them.

“If someone had said to me a guy would spend a whole year courting me and trying to make his way to my heart, I’d have laughed and then punched them.”

“Well, you deserve to be courted,” he shrugged. “If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives worshiping you.”

You continued to dance and spin around the room. You were amazed at yourself for not squishing his foot under your own not even once. The lights seemed to twinkle with every step as you spun delicately.

Yeah I've been feeling everything From hate to love From love to lust From lust to truth I guess that's how I know you So I hold you close to help you give it up

As the song came closer to its end, Sam raised his hand to your upper-middle back. He applied a gentle pressure to your back to let you know he wanted to dip you. You trusted him completely to not let you fall. You were safe in his arms. He mildly lowered you backward.

So kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love

Your eyes were locked. His hazel orbs glistened as they seemed to stare deep into your soul. Your whole body ignited with something you’ve never felt before. His pupils dilated as he took in every trace of your face, every detail. Your breath was caught in your throat. Your eyes remained lost in his as he pulled you back up with him. Your breasts pressed firm to his chest.

Both of his hands were placed on your hips now as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You smiled before capturing his lips into a passionate kiss. The whole world fell away once again. Your brain was lit on fire as a warm spread through your entire body.

Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love

He managed to pull you closer to him until there was no space between you. Until you could feel his heart beating against your chest. His tongue grazed over your lower lip and at your granted access he delved into your mouth. The caress and the strokes of his tongue were softer than you could have imagined. You could never have enough of him. He was intoxicating, but in a good way. You felt his lips curl into a smile before you parted.

“We’re falling in love,” you whispered between panting breaths before pecking his lips once again.

Feedback is greatly appreciated! You can send it my way via reply, reblog or ask!

Sam Babes:

@maya-craziness

[demonwriterx]

Epithet Erased:A show centered around Kindness (and Barriers!)

*teleports behind you*

Epithet Erased was created by Branden Blaber, a guy known around Youtube by the name of JelloApocolypse  He is known for his famous comedy sketch series of “This is basically...” where he takes a certain show, video game or social media and makes them into parodies, now he had created an original series called Epithet Erased, escluviely being premiered on VRV and on Youtube!

The summary of Epithet Erased will make anyone new to the series interested enough to check out the episodes.

Epithet Erased is set in the world of Sweet Jazz City, where a lucky few are born with powers attached to their very souls known as “Epithets”. An Epithet stems from a single word attached to a users soul that can grant them any kind of power. Words like “Fire,” “Coupon” or … “Soup”. A magical artifact known as the “Arsene Amulet” is rumored to be able to steal an epithet away from its user, and they say it’s hidden somewhere in the Sweet Jazz Museum. Thieves burst down the doors in the middle of the night! Inscribed warriors do battle in the dark of the abandoned exhibits! Dinosaur bones come toppling to the floor! And a little girl named Molly is trapped in the middle of it all. Will her epithet, “Dumb” be enough to save her? Or will her epithet be… erased?

I stumbled across Epithet Erased a little late to the party with three of the episodes already released on JelloApocolypse’s channel. Even being a subscriber, I never got around to it until I decided to sit down and watch the first episode. But now, I wished I would have seen it sooner because of how much I love Epithet Erased! 

Epithet Erased is centered around the world of Epithets where certain people gain epithets, but only around one word. Many Epithet users have very powerful Epithets that they use for battle, protection, healing or even turning things into gold. But one main character, Molly, descibes her epithet as useless and “dumb” because it literally is her Epithet! Her Epithet is “dumb” which means that she can “dumb” down anything into literally nothing or just to negate attacks or special abilities. Epithets can also give people special passive abilities, one example is from Molly herself which she can make a bubble of silence around herself and others, as long as they are in the bubbles’ radius. 

Epithet Erased has a unique narration style and animation. Their animation budget is small as it feels more like a motion comic without the speech bubbles, but don’t let sway your opinion of it as the voice cast, art style and storytelling carries the series into comedic satisfaction. The episodic series go through arcs and the first 4 episodes take place in a museum! Where characters fight over the mysterious arsenic amulet which can steal other people’s epithets and gives it to the user.

Epithet Erased also does a top down narration, where the audience is looking down on the characters as the characters are moving around as profile boxes. If I would describe it, it is similar to a DnD board, which I suspect Epithet Erased was inspired from and also known RPG mechanics as most users of epithets run on stamina and creativity. 

Let’s introduce some characters and the face of the series, Molly. 

Molly is 12 years old, and works in her family’s toy shop! (sometimes all on her own, because her father is worthless garbage...but let’s not get into that now) Molly has issues with her self-esteem which stems from the fact that she has to be the adult in her family since she cannot count on her father and sister. It all stems from the fact that the family fell apart from the death of her mother five years prior, ever since then, Molly has been the one to keep her family going. Molly wears a bear hoodie at all time because it was created by her mother. But even with problems at home, Molly is genueriely nice (and secretly savage, mostly savage....you’ll see). She cares about others, likes to talk to them, and understands what is going on in their point of view. She is struggling to be more  assertive, but she is getting there! 

Giovanni (one of my favorite characters so far!) is the leader of the Notorious BONZAI BLASTERS! A group of rapscallion and ruffians trying to make a name of themselves, consider them like team rocket from the Pokemon series. Giovanni is trying to be known in the criminal underworld, he has his devoted minions who follow him and express their undying love for him. Giovanni may act tough and jerky, but he is a secretly a giant softie. He cares about his minions and takes care of them. Giovanni can even knit! and crafted his own suit from scratch! 

Sylvie is a 15 year old boy, who recently graduated college with a PHD in Psychology, his epithet is “Drowsy”, which means he can put people to sleep and make their nightmares a reality! He can even put himself to sleep and summon his alter ego! A raging bull with a Scottish accent! He is a bit pompous and thinks he knows more than anyone in a room. But he secretly wants to have friends, luckily Molly is there to be his friend! and he has a lot to learn. 

Mera is an interesting character, with her epithet literally turning against her! I won’t say anything else because I don’t want to spoil anything else from the first arc and trust me! It will captivate you!

Indus is a big soft teddy bear and body guard of Mera, who he refers to as “lady Mera” which is very sweet. He does everything Mera tells him too, including cooking and doing laundry but he is kinda soft-headed (pretty dumb) think of him as Kronk and Mera as Ezma from Emperor’s new Groove. 

But these two, these two right here, are my absolute favorite pair! (because I found myself shipping them, im not sorry) The guy on the left is Ramsey, who appears in ep 6 and 7. His epithet is Goldbricker, which he can turn anything and himself into solid gold. A con man at heart, constantly on the run from a bounty hunter finally finds relief when he becomes partnered with a law abiding officer, Percy. 

Percy (right), is one of the top officers in her field. Her epithet is creating small buildings with magical abilities but her stamina is very low, if she makes too much or fights for too long, she can literally pass out and becomes defenseless.  She is very direct, strong, serious and little innocent, (especially around Ramsey and his constant innuendos, which is very funny). She doesn’t really respond to his comments and his sarcastic jokes, one of which he says to her “your cop is showing” and she gets very embarrassed and says “oh, I’m sorry” so she take things very literally. These two remind me of Judy and Nick from Zootopia, and I also love the good cop, and criminal partnership trope.

Epithet Erased is an action-packed, comedic masterpiece centered around great narration, voice acting and wonderful characters. The show constant theme being kindness to others and most characters of the series are very nice people just trying to make it in a cruel world. It is heartwarming and very funny! I highly recommend everyone to give it and chance and check it out on VRV and on youtube, I will provide a link to the first episode below. I really want this show to succeed and gain a following of support as not a lot of people know about this show, and I would hate to see it end early! This type of show does not come around every often, it is like a secret prize hidden away and everyone deserves a prize! Epithet Erased is a masterpiece of animation, storytelling and character that is unlike any other! 

Please check it out in the link below!

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCP4nS6ag1-E6TzlQvaWfiZg

[northoftheroad]

The Robin 80th Anniversary Special

It's not a secret that I'm first and foremost a Dick Grayson fan, whether he comes dressed as Robin, Nightwing, Batman or something else. But I try to be charitable and be happy for fans of the other Robins that they got a pice of the birthday cake, i. e. the Robin 80th Anniversary Special.

For your enjoyment (?), here are my thoughts about the book. Spoilers ahead, obviously – don't like, don't read!

I honestly thought almost all of the stories were ok – but pretty forgettable. Marv Wolfman's spin on Dick leaving to become Nightwing, in "A little nudge" (art by Tom Grummett and Scott Hanna), is probably the only one I will remember and reference in the future. I don't know if or how it is supposed to fit into the (any?) continuity, but as far as I can see, it works nicely in the current setting.

Dick's parting from Robin and Bruce was successively portrayed as more and more hostile. When he originally left Robin to become Nightwing (1983–1984), the two still had a good relationship. This changed in comics to, first, that Bruce decided to retire Robin, and then to that Bruce outright fired Dick and kicked him out of the cave. This lead to that their relationship was portrayed as poor, antagonistic even, for a good many comics years.

The bad mood was picked up by Batman The Animated Series, where Dick left being resentful of Bruce and his methods.

I don't have a lot of good things to say about what has happened to the Bat-family after Flashpoint. But from what we've seen from scattered panels, Dick was the one who decided he wanted to leave Robin. You can read Marv Wolfman's story as confirmation of that. Which is nice.

Bruce is only a little bit of a jerk in this story, being utterly rigid about that Robin has to follow orders. Dick, however, chooses to stay with a kid that had been shot instead of following the criminals.

Dick has had it with Bruce's rules and leaves the cave, but he says "later" rather than "goodbye".

It's made clear that those strict rules were Bruce's way to say, "I know you've grown up, and you should move on; I'll be fine without you."

Batman # 408, where Bruce decides to retire Robin because he got scared when the Joker shot Dick, is firmly established in my mind as the "correct" leaving story in my mind. It was the only one I had read and knew of for many years, and the two still part on decent terms. But Marv Wolfman's 80th Anniversary version has a lot going for it.

On to the rest of the stories...

"Aftershocks" By Chuck Dixon, art Scott McDaniel and Rob Hunter.

Set during Cataclysm (a storyline from 1998) where Dick lived in Blüdhaven before he moved back to Gotham and became Batman. It's an action-filled story where (fingerstripe) Nightwing comes to Gotham after an earthquake has hit the city.

It's interesting to read this, living through the corona crisis that is going on right now. I don't know how it is where you live, but where I am, people are setting up networks to help people who can't go out to shop or walk the dog, University students are helping kids do their math lessons with the help of Facebook, people make masks for health workers etc. But when Chuck Dixon writes what happens after a catastrophe, Dick has to fight his way through masked thugs who are trying to rob an ambulance of "painkillers and tranks" when he tries to save a cab from falling with a damaged bridge. A woman is giving birth inside the car, and the story ends with that the mother wants to name the boy after Nightwing.

"Well...Robin works, right", he says.

"Team building" by Devin Grayson, art Dan Jurgens and Norm Rapund.

Well, I'll always soak up everything that has to do with Dick and the Titans – Teen Titans, New Teen Titans, Titans, any Titans...

Devin Grayson wrote The Titans 1999–2000, which is the setting of this story. Most of it takes place inside a H.I.V.E. locale, where an exasperated boss (Damien Darkh) chews out his soldiers after a fight with the Titans. But Darkh decides not to kill the lot of them, because they did distract the Titans while he stole a red crystal/power source. Of course, it turns out Dick is the soldier who has kept his helmet on; he takes the crystal with him and gives Darkh a bit of advice on team-building on his way out.

"Generally speaking, fear of execution isn't a great motivator. I've found basic team-building and morale-boosting to be much more effective. Like, I'm just spitballing here, but... You ever consider a pizza night?"

Well, it did keep me amused, and it shows us that Dick is a good leader and strategist, (and a great acrobat who manages to get out of the H.I.V.E. uniform with one hand, on the way out), although it isn't exactly a surprise that Dick was in the building when you get near the end.

"The Lesson Plan" by Tom King and Tim Seeley, art Mikel Janín.

Now, I do like some things about the Grayson run, but with a bit of distance, I've realized it was mostly the art. The sexualization of Dick and how King and Seely wrote him as a guy who jumps first and plans never got tiresome. This story is in-character for Grayson; Dick is accompanied by a girl (Paris) from St Hadrian's on a mission, and on the way, he remembers the lessons Batman gave him and imparts his own interpretation of them to Paris. As is Batman says, "plan everything", and Dick says "Improvise. Leap first... figure it all out on the way down." Ergo, classic King and Seeley. Also, it is possibly implied Dick made out with a beautiful girl that turned out to be gorilla in disguise...? Yep, vintage King and Seeley.

Other than that, I don't have a big problem with the story. Some things ring true to me – as when Dick remembers Batman saying, "At their core, people are cowardly and self-serving. Trust no one until you know them. And even then, never completely". And what Dick says is, "Give the benefit of the doubt until you gotta knock 'em out."

For my own peace of mind, I'm reading this as Dick is half-joking with his advice. It's not like we've never seen him make plans and be suspicious post-Flashpoint.

On a side note, one of the best characterizations of Dick Grayson to my mind is a panel from Black Mirror. When Dick explains he had injected James Gordon Jr with a subdermal tracer, and says about himself, "I am a softie. And I do try to see the best in people... but that doesn't mean I'm stupid."

Detective Comics # 881. By Scott Snyder, art Jock and Francesco Francavilla.  

"More Time" by Judd Winnick, art Dustin Nguyen.

Jason has a cute story about him repairing Thomas Wayne's watch as a present to Bruce. He started the work as a tiny Robin (too tiny, in my opinion, but with Dustin Nguyen on art it probably couldn't turn out any other way) and finished the work as Red Hood. Jason delivers the present to Bruce on his birthday, placing it on the Batmobile while it is parked in a Gotham alley.

"Extra Credit" by Adam Beechen, art Freddie E. Williams II.

Tim has an appointment with the guidance counsellor at Gotham City High School. Tim sees a future in law enforcement (that's the first I've heard of that, but I'm no expert on Tim) and he's adopted (again, something I haven't seen post-Flashpoint). But the counsellor doubts that Tim will be admitted because he has nothing to show when it comes to extracurricular activities. It's kind of a fun few pages where the counsellor suggests things that Tim could do, and Tim thinks about what he does as Robin on his spare time.

"Boy Wonders" by James Tynion IV, art Javier Fernandez.

Tim, Red Robin, is unsure what he wants to do with his life and goes to his brothers? fellow Robins? for advice.

I know emotions have been running high because Dick tells Tim that he is "demonstrably smarter" than he is, which makes it sound as if Dick is not really smart at all.

Again, for my peace of mind, I choose to read this as I want: that "big brother" Dick is encouraging, he has always thought highly of Tim, he has no ego to preserve. This doesn't make Dick a reliable narrator on the subject, and the page ends with that Tim thinks "He was the first. He's the best. He's always going to be the role model. "So, two brothers who admire each other.

Tim also talks to Jason and Tim, and the story ends with that he tells Batman he wants to start Gotham Knights protocol, the team in Detective Comics (Rebirth.) 2016-2018.

"Fitting In" by Amy Wolfram, art Damion Scott.

Stephanie, as Robin has problems because Tim's Robin suit doesn't fit her female body. But at the end of the day, Bruce gives Stephanie her own "changing room" in the Bat-cave, because she's female.

...are Bruce and Alfred idiots? Did Dick, Jason and Tim have exactly the same body type when they were Robin? Stephanie deserved a story worth being told, not this one.

"My Best Friend" by Peter J. Tomasi, art Jorge Jimenez.

Jonathan Kent writes a school essay about his best friend, Damian. As he writes the words on his laptop at home, they are illustrated with pcitures of the two as both Robin and Superboy, and as Damian and Jon in civvies. Tomasi and Jimenez worked with Super Sons (2017–2019), and though I didn't read that, I'm pretty sure this story is an extra chapter in that series.

"Bat and Mouse" by Robbie Thompson, art Ramon Villalobos.

It's not the worst story in the book, but somehow the one I disliked the most. It is part of what is going on in Teen Titans and Bat-titles right now; we see Alfred's tombstone and how Batman and Robin have a strained relationship and difficulties in communicating. I'm not keeping up with what is going on with Damian and Bruce in detail, so I really can't say whether this story is consistent with how things have been going lately. I'll let Bruce-and-Damian fans take that ball.

To be honest, my reaction to "Bat and Mouse" is probably due to that I really, really don't like what's happened in the Bat titles lately. I firmly hope that the current situation will be changed and Alfred will be alive again, and I wish I could go back and re-read this book years from now without being reminded of this very dark time when DC seemingly doesn't want any money from me for new comics...

Being who I am, I probably take it waaaaay too seriously to try to understand where/if these stories fit in the DC continuity... The writers have probably (rightly) thought more about writing a good story than making it consistent with any grand plan for a timeline for all of the DC universe. But whatever.

The Grayson story clearly happens in a post-Flashpoint universe, as does Damian's and Tim's stories. But Tim says he's adopted, which I believe has never been said outright post-Flashpoint. And Stephanie has as far as I know not been Robin in this continuity. Chuck Dixon's Nightwing story is explicitly set during Cataclysm (a storyline from 1998) where Dick lived in Blüdhaven before he moved back to Gotham and became Batman. Post-Flashpoint, he moves to Blüdhaven for the first time in Nightwing vol 4., so Dixon's story should take place in the old continuity.

On the other hand. The last pages of the book are made to look like profile overviews in the Bat-computer and use pictures from different Robin runs. If the snippets of information are supposed to be the current continuity for the Robins, a lot from the pre-Flashpoint universe is back in canon.

Shortly, Dick was adopted (that's the word they use), formed the Teen Titans, moved to Blüdhaven and was Agent 37 for a while. Blüdhaven comes before Agent 37, but it's not explicitly stated when he first moved there. Because if Dick was in Blüdhaven before his time with Spyral, it is inconsistent with parts of Rebirth Nightwing. (Which I can live with...)

Jason's story starts as the street kid who tries to steal the tires of the Batmobile, his stint as Robin was short, and today, Red Hood has formed a tenuous alliance with Batman. Tim uncovered Batman's secret and made a bid to become the new Robin – and his new moniker "Drake" is acknowledged. Stephanie was Robin for a very short while. Damian was created with genetic material that Talia stole after a romantic tryst with Bruce, and he was bred to be an assassin.

Personally, of course, I think that Dick Grayson was worth more of an effort from DC on his 80th anniversary. But on the whole, the things we got were decent, "A little nudge" gave me something I will keep with me, and several of the covers are great.

(The cover photo is still pinched from Dan Jurgens' Twitter – I haven't bought all of the variant covers.)

[judgmentofcorruption]

Episode 1–The Boy Embraces His Ambition; Scene 2

Judgment of Corruption, pages 23-31

After the head judge informed them of the date and time he would announce his verdict, court adjourned for the day.

"What do you think?"

As people were steadily starting to get up and leave the courtroom, Loki Freezis, sitting next to Gallerian, started to talk to him.

"What do I think about…what?" Gallerian replied, putting his notebook in his bag.

“About the verdict of the trial. How do you think it’s gonna go?”

"It's undoubtedly going to be the death sentence."

“Bet so. As far as I’ve seen with all of the precedent cases, there hasn’t been a single person accused of ‘witchcraft’ who was found innocent. And when a guilty verdict for violating the law on witchcraft is handed down, there’s no way to avoid the death penalty…Sigh.”

“Why the sigh?”

“There’s nothing more boring than a trial where you already know the outcome. If we have to watch it for our studies, I wish it could have been a more interesting case.”

“This is part of the curriculum to get credits, so there’s nothing for it, right? …And I don’t think you ought to differentiate between trials based on whether they’re interesting or not.”

After finishing getting his things around, Gallerian stood. Loki followed suit, and the two of them started to walk to the exit side by side.

"You always take things so seriously, Gallerian. Well, I guess that’s why you’re the youngest student at Levin University at age fourteen, and able to stay at the top of the class to boot.”

Gallerian’s expression didn’t change one twitch despite the praise.

“It’s just happenstance. On that last test my score only differed from yours by twelve points.”

“Those twelve points may seem small, but it’s a big difference. The difference between first and second place, you know. In the end I wasn’t able to flip our positions, despite my efforts.”

Once outside the building, two large trees flanking the main entrance could be seen, budding. The two boys walked through them.

“It’ll be graduation soon,” Loki murmured as he faced forward, sounding deeply moved.

“Yeah, it will. But…The real performance is yet to come.”

“Our bar exams, you mean? We can’t join the Dark Star Bureau without taking those. …But well, I think that’ll be an easy task for me and you.”

“…I hope it is,” Gallerian replied, his expression downcast.

What could he be worrying about? –I had a rough idea.

Just as Loki said, Gallerian was an exceptional student. He’d had no problems relating to his behavior. Someone who didn’t know of his circumstances would naturally think he was a shoo-in for joining the Dark Star Bureau as he hoped.

But the current head of the Dark Star Bureau was Hanma Baldured, just as it had been fourteen years before.

So then, would he accept so readily Gallerian’s entry, given that he was the son of a witch?

…Gallerian knew what kind of person his mother had been. And he knew why she had disappeared from him when he was a baby.

--Appearing not to notice Gallerian’s anxiety at all, Loki suddenly changed the topic and posed this question to Gallerian: “By the way—why do you want to become a judge?”

“…? What do you mean?”

“I’m just thinking, if you wanted to you could have chosen any other path. Like…going into government. After all is said and done, you’re from the once royal Marlon family line. Personally I’ve always wondered if maybe that isn’t more your cup of tea.”

“…Are you crazy, Loki?” Gallerian sighed, looking stupefied. “It’s because I’m a descendant of the Marlon Royal line that I can’t. The Viwirtz family runs the country of Marlon now. After they became sovereign over Marlon in place of the Marlon royal family, you really think they’d look well on someone from the Marlon line becoming a bureaucrat when it might invite disaster?”

“…Ah, so even if, for argument’s sake, you were able to get in, you couldn’t hope for any advancement. –But you wouldn’t need to become a bureaucrat in your home country, you know. You could try here in Levianta, or in Lucifenia, or someplace like that.”

“Given that the USE framework exists, and the Viwirtz royal family has a lot of influence in it, it would still be the same. If I wanted to get anywhere in the world of politics—I would have to move somewhere like the United States of Maistia, to the far west across the sea.”

“Maistia huh…That would be pretty interesting though, wouldn’t it? I’ve been there a few times when I was a kid, it’s a nice place. It’s not all squalid like Evillious is.”

“Then you go there. Maybe go be president or something. I’ve got no interest in politics from the outset. Becoming a judge has always been a dream of mine.”

“Huh…Why?”

“…”

Rather than answering that question, instead Gallerian returned it to Loki. “What about you? I think it’s a little strange for a son of the Freezis Conglomerate to want to become a judge.”

The Freezis Conglomerate was an organization that had been established roughly four hundred years before, originally going by the name of the “Freezis Foundation”, made to manage the fortune that the great merchant Keel Freezis left behind. That had been its original purpose, but in its present state it might be more accurate to call it a multinational corporation run by the Freezis family descending from Keel. With their moneylending using Keel’s fortune as funds, their overseas trade with the continent of Maistia and the far East, as well as their mining of subterranean resources, their capital strength had vastly increased; now the conglomerate was not just a main economic power, but also one that held great influence in the political stage as well.

And the Freezis family stood at the top of this conglomerate. It was natural that Gallerian would have doubts on Loki pursuing an education on law, given that he was a direct descendent.

“Hahah, you’ve dodged the question, Gallerian.”

“I’m just embarrassed to say my dreams for the future so openly. If you say that your reason is the same as mine, because becoming a judge is your dream, then I won’t pry any further.”

“I suppose…In my case it’s a little different. To be more accurate, it’s my destiny as a member of the Freezis family to be at the very top of the justice system—the director of the USE Dark Star Bureau.”

“Your ‘destiny’, huh?”

“Yes, my ‘destiny’. Though my father is the Freezis commander, I’m the third son. My oldest brother is next in line for succession, and my second oldest brother is working as an administrative official for the USE joint government. And so if I’m able to get into the Dark Star Bureau and advance through the ranks—”

“Then that means the conglomerate will be able to have its hands in both the economy, the government, and the justice system.”

“Exactly. The World Police is an organization that was originally started by the Freezis Foundation, so the current Freezis Conglomerate still has a strong influence on it. If all goes well, then my family—no, the entire Freezis Conglomerate, will gain a massive amount of power in the USE,” Loki explained, his eyes sparkling as he did. Gallerian glanced at him from the side with a calm gaze, and yet also with some jealousy.

“…You have plans on such a broad scale. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

“There’s no need to get so abject about it. Even you sort of have a connection to the Freezis family in your genes.”

Just as Loki said, Gallerian’s great-great-grandmother was a member of the Freezis family. Though this person was a distant relative removed from the main family line, and in the present day Gallerian had never received any benefits for it.

Even so, it seemed it was because of this connection that the two of them had become fast friends so soon after entering college. I had no idea what they had thought of each other in their first meeting, but judging from the look of them now one could say that they were, without a doubt, “best friends”.

“—Well, supposing the both of us do get into the Dark Star Bureau that would make us ‘rivals’,” Gallerian sighed.

“Oh? So you’ve got your eye on the director’s chair too, Gallerian. …Well, you would, wouldn’t you. Someone without ambitions would never have studied with so much zeal. But, university grades notwithstanding, I’ve got no intention of conceding a single step to you. What’s sought in scholarship and what’s sought in practical experience are two different things, after all.”

“That’s true. Getting to the top of the Dark Star Bureau isn’t gonna be so easy that I can get a big head about it.” Lifting his index finger, Gallerian asked Loki, “I’ve got one thing I’d like to know. Loki—what do you think of the ‘Witch Trials’?”

Loki appeared to think for a moment, before replying, “…I think it’s something we just have to do. It is true that some unknown power is causing chaos in this world right now.”

“So you think witches truly exist?”

“Yeah,” Loki returned decisively. Then he lowered his voice a little and continued, “Actually. The Freezis Conglomerate had secretly been conducting research into ‘witches’ for centuries. I’ve read papers on it that we keep in our archives.”

“Wow…I’m a little intrigued.”

“Unfortunately they’re top-secret documents, and only direct members of the family are allowed to read them. So I can’t tell you a lot of what’s in them, but—in the past, and in the present day, witches do really exist.”

“…”

“Even if the Freezis Conglomerate rules the world, it doesn’t mean anything if that world is destroyed. So when I become the director, I’ll use my judicial powers to soundly exterminate all witches…I think that’s another mission in my life.”

“…I see.”

Gallerian lowered his eyes for a moment.

And then he quickly opened them, smiled, and said, “Except, I’m the one who’s going to become the director.”

“So you said. Well, I know that you’re quite exceptional. When Director Loki Freezis is born, I think he’ll make little Gallerian here into his second-in-command.”

The two walked along the road, joking with each other.

<<prev------directory------next>>

[backtothestart02]

Return to Paradise - 2/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: The chapters will be much longer after this one. I hope you enjoy!

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Chapter 2 -

Barry stood, watching Iris and Nora say goodbye to everyone else at STAR Labs, and tried his very best not to look depressed. Whenever Iris and Nora turned his way, he put on a brilliant smile. And truthfully, it would be fun getting to go on a vacation with Nora when they’d never had one together. He just wished it wasn’t right now.

He was all for embracing being a father to his adult daughter – though it was still a little weird, he couldn’t lie – but his need to have Iris all to himself was stronger than it had ever been, especiall after existing in a reality where she thought he looked like Oliver. And now every time they shared even the purest, fully-clothed moment, it would likely be interrupted by their very chatty, very present daughter, Nora West-Allen.

Somehow, he had to get his mind right. Iris had obviously accomplished it already, which was understandable since she hadn’t experienced a separate reality that she could remember.

“This was awfully nice of you to suggest,” Joe said, who also had no memory of the alternate reality and had come back to Central City with Cecile and Jenna for the Christmas holiday season.

“Actually, I suggested it!” Nora chirped, beaming proudly.

Joe looked over at her. “Oh, did you now?” He looked back at Barry, smiling. “How did that come up?”

“Oh, simple really.” Nora bounded over. “I went upstairs to wake up my parents, and –” She paused. “Well, they were already awake.”

Iris cleared her throat, stepping across the room before her dad could connect the dots.

“She heard Barry and I talking about a vacation before Christmas and –”

“Invited myself along!”

“I…see.” Joe looked back and forth between his daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter.

“We’ll be back in time for Christmas,” Barry said, squeezing Joe’s shoulder. “It’ll only be a week, maybe ten days.”

“Ten days,” Nora said, with stars in her eyes.

Barry swallowed hard and muttered under his breath, “Or maybe seven.”

Cisco, who was watching the entire scene unfold before him, suddenly picked up on the clues dropping like flies. Something was very wrong here.

“Hey, Barry?”

Barry looked over at him, relieved to briefly be out of the conversation involving the enthusiasm of a family vacation.

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” He gestured to the hall.

“What- Uh, sure, man.” He lowered his voice as he slipped past his girls, “’Scuse me.”

He followed Cisco into the hall until they couldn’t be heard and that’s when his best friend hit him with the mother of all questions.

“Why aren’t you excited about this vacation?”

“What?!” Barry squeaked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, voice still high-pitched. “I am. I totally am.” He willed his voice to lower. “I am.” But it lowered a lot, making him look awfully suspicious.

Cisco folded his arms.

“Spill, Bartholomew.”

Barry sighed.

“Okay, so there was this time change…”

Cisco hit him.

“It wasn’t my fault this time!”

“Whose fault was it then, Flash?”

“Shh!” He looked around worriedly.

“No one can hear us.” Cisco rolled his eyes. “But you, sir, have some explaining to do.”

Barry looked back at him and prepared to tell his tale.

“Okay, well, there’s a lot involved, and I’ll tell you all of it some other time, but there was a crossover and the bad guy was constantly changing realities to what he personally wanted.”

“Huh. Seems legit. Go on.”

“In the first reality I woke up to, only one thing had changed. I was Green Arrow and Oliver was the Flash.”

Cisco almost laughed at the ‘Green Arrow’ bit. Almost. But then he started to understand.

“Wait. Just you two had swapped? Not your wiv-”

Barry shook his head.

“Ah. So, you had to see Iris madly in love with Oliver thinking he was you.”

Barry glared.

“Just clarifying!”

“Yes,” Barry ground out.

“Did you ever get through to her? I mean, as Oliver?”

“Eventually, yeah.”

“What’d you say?” Cisco asked curiously.

“That she’s my lightning rod, obviously.”

Cisco’s lips twitched. “Works every time.”

There was a pause, then—

“Wait, if you had to see that, then I’m guessing your suggestion of a vacation was actually as a redo honeymoon and that Nora jumped to conclusions and invited herself, and she was so excited you didn’t know how to say no but now you’re stuck?”

Barry winced. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

“Dude, why didn’t you tell me? We can get Nora out of the picture. Surely she’d understand if you told her.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

“She’s never had a vacation with her dad, Cisco.”

Cisco softened.

“If I take this away from her now… after we just had that breakthrough over Thanksgiving, I…”

“So, don’t take it away from her. Plan a family vacation over the summer. Cicada should be locked up by then, and you’ll probably have a few months before the next Big Bad comes around trying to kill you and everyone you love.” He patted his arm lovingly.

Barry snorted. “I wish I could say you were joking.”

“But I’m not. Go with God, my man.” He pushed him back towards the cortex. “Oh, and out of curiosity, who else knows about this crossover that none of us remember?”

“Just Iris. Listen, I can’t just—”

“You can and you will. Go!”

They both entered the cortex again, just in time for an ecstatic Nora West-Allen to squeal and call her dad over for a family picture. Everyone else was smiling watching them, and even Iris warmed to seeing him again. Barry wondered if she was as prepared for this trip as he was.

“Come on, babe,” she called out to him, gesturing to their daughter. “Picture time!” She laughed a little.

Cisco suddenly understood.

“Have a fun family vacation, oh, dear friend of mine.” He clutched Barry’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” he said dryly.

He squeezed his friend’s hand to near pain and then rejoined his family.

…

It took only seconds for Nora to start her interrogation once they’d gathered their luggage together at the loft.

“So, where are we going?” she asked, swinging one leg over her knee as she sat on top of the only half-filled suitcase meant for her.

“Bali,” Iris said, or started to. “It’s where we had-”

“Your honeymoon! Oh, yes! I love Bali.”

Barry’s lips twitched. “You’ve…been to Bali before?”

“Mhmm.” She nodded ecstatically. “You didn’t tell me much about your past growing up, Mom, but I did manage to find out where the two of you went on your honeymoon. It’s a trip getting there, isn’t it?” She blew a lock of hair out of her face. “Thank goodness we’re speedsters and don’t have to get sweaty sitting on a plane for a day and a half.”

Barry thought about the plane trips last year, and how well, yeah, they would’ve loved to spend their time doing other things and were pretty much exhausted by the time they arrived, but it was also a sweet time, and a sexy time for part of it, despite the complications of a tiny bathroom. The next time they were able to get away, he’d been hoping to get some of that first-class mile-high seating where you actually had a private suite and your chairs turned into a bed.

Not to mention, he’d planned to up the romance with the type of hotel suite they got this time. Maybe they’d get a villa or one of those tropical huts that extended way out into the water.

But all of that was moot with a third party.

“That sounds great,” Iris said, and Barry realized Nora must’ve been talking, listing things she wanted to do or things she had done. At least he guessed that’s what it had been when Iris’ elbow hit his side forcefully.

“Ow,” he mouthed. Neither woman took note of his reaction.

“So, we’re speeding there, right?” Nora asked hopefully. “I want to get started right away. Today should be a beach day!”

Barry thought of his and Iris’ beach days the year before and how this would be nothing like it. But then he reminded himself why he’d agreed to this venture in the first place. Nora’s eyes were glittering as she looked up at him, likely imagining all the father-daughter moments they hadn’t gotten when she was growing up that she would now get.

“Sure, why not? We’ll have to stop at a hotel first and make sure there’s actually a place to stay, though, since this isn’t a day trip,” he joked lightly. Neither woman got it.

“Great!” She cheered, jumping up and down. “It might take a couple trips, but I’m sure we can get all the suitcases to the villa I stayed at when I was down there.”

“Are you sure it’ll be there, Nora?” Iris asked. “I mean, we are 25 years ahead of schedule,” she joked. Nora laughed lightly, obligingly. Barry hid a smile.

“It should be there,” Nora said, eager to get past the awkward moment and bad mom joke. “But if it’s not, there should be some like it. It’s not like villas were just invented in my lifetime.”

Iris looked at Barry who smiled encouragingly. A possible villa had been part of his plan initially anyway.

“All right, a villa it is.”

Nora was gone with half the luggage in her arms before returning back for the rest.

“See you guys there!”

And then she was gone again, leaving no indication of exactly where in Bali she was going to. It was a tourist destination. She could’ve literally gone anywhere.

Barry looked down at his wife of one year and grinned.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, nothing. I just like my piece of luggage I get to take with me, that’s all.”

“Did you just call me a piece of luggage?”

“Light as a feather,” he promised her, then sealed his promise with a kiss.

Iris moaned in irritation when he pulled away.

“What?” he asked on a laugh.

“Who knows the next time we’ll be alone together like this? You’re gonna leave me with just a peck? Really?”

He laughed, then sped her to the side of the building for a hot ‘n heavy passionate kiss worthy of an award. Iris was breathless when he pulled back this time.

“Was that better?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she nodded.

“Ready now?”

She took a breath and nodded.

“Let’s get this family vacation started.”

In a flash of color and wind, they were gone.

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

[nazariolahela]

Something Domestic: Chapter 3

A/N: Hey y'all! This is a new TRR AU I’ve been working on. This story is told in first-person narrative, from Riley’s (MC) POV. There will likely be smidges of canon in this, but not too much. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

Catch up here

Series Tags: @burnsoslow​ @aworldoffandoms​ @dcbbw​ @ladyangel70​ @texaskitten30​ @sunandlemons​ @jlynn12273​ @indiacater​ @jared2612​ @rainbowsinthestorm​ @drakesensworld​ @badchoicesposts​

Synopsis: When Riley Brooks takes a new job as a nanny for the affluent Rhys family in New York’s Upper East Side, she assumes she’s just going to care for the children of the couple who hired her. But instead of just school pick-ups and afternoon snacks, she also finds herself spending time with Liam, the handsome divorced dad. Can Riley control her feelings for Liam while still performing the job she was hired for?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: Riley and Hana discuss the new changes in their lives.

As the cab pulls up outside of Nomade, I spot Hana leaning up against the side of the building. She’s dressed in black leggings and a denim jacket over a purple A-Line tunic. Her brown hair is twisted in a side braid that rests on her left shoulder. Tendrils fall across her face as she taps on her phone screen. Looking at the door to the restaurant, I notice there’s no line. That’s good for a Friday afternoon, considering people line up around the block to eat here.

Hana and I prefer the lunch menu because it’s cheaper and less crowded. The one time we came here for dinner, we had to wait two and a half hours for a table, and our tab was almost $300. I tip the driver and exit the cab, bounding across the sidewalk to my roommate and best friend. She giggles as she sees me and scoops me into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Hey, girl! You’ll never guess who just emailed me!”

“Who?” I ask. Her parents Xinghai and Lorelai are well-known in the New York social scene, so it could literally be anyone.

“I’ll tell you when we get inside,” she says and links her arm through mine as we make our way into the restaurant. Typical Hana. Always keeping people in suspense. When we reach the host station, her phone buzzes. She quickly pulls it out of her purse and glances at it, rolls her eyes, then shoves it back in her purse.

“What was that all about?” I eye her.

She sighs. “Oh, just some weirdo my parents are trying to set me up with. Neville Vancoeur or something,” she waves her hand dismissively. “My mother gave me her famous ‘When are you going to settle down, Hana? You’re not getting any younger and I want grandchildren,’ spiel last week, so now they’re aggressively playing matchmaker.”

Hana and I met freshman year at NYU Steinhardt. With both of us being education majors, we ended up having a lot of classes together and spent way too many late nights cramming during our study sessions in the library. After graduation, we both realized rent in this city is impossible to afford if you’re not a Rockefeller, so we rented an apartment together and have been roomies ever since. Hana got a job student-teaching music at Stormholt Middle School, and she also gives piano lessons one Saturday a month to a rich family in the city.

Her parents are something else. I’ve only met them once, but they make me glad I don’t have much of a relationship with mine. They feel she’s better suited to be a wife and a mother than an educator. It makes me angry for her because she’s so much more than that. She doesn’t need to marry some stuffy guy who probably skated his way through business school on daddy’s money and pop out his crotch goblins to do something meaningful with her life. She’s also mentioned to me many times that she’s into girls, so all this effort to set her up with some preppy trust-fund douche from East Hampton is a waste. Jokes on you Mom and Dad Lee.

I giggle as the hostess arrives from seating another customer. “Good afternoon, ladies. Table for two?”

We answer and she grabs two menus before motioning for us to follow her. When we arrive at our table, she informs us our server will be with us shortly and walks away. 

“Okay, so tell me who emailed you,” I say to her as I unroll my napkin and place it in my lap. She looks up at me, her eyes beaming. 

“Do you remember that benefit dinner we went to a few months ago? You know, the one for New York educators, where we drank our weight in Lemon Drop martinis?”

I smirk recalling that evening. The bits and pieces I remember, Hana lost one of her shoes and spent the better part of the evening showing everyone on the dancefloor the “proper way” to perform a pirouette.

“Well, I do remember you taking over the dance floor and me going home with that cute bartender. What was his name again? Daniel?”

“Oh my god!” she replies, laughing and slapping my forearm. “I can’t believe you don’t remember his name!”

We giggle as our server approaches our table to take our drink orders. I order a glass of white wine and Hana orders a Sangria. When the server leaves, we resume our conversation.

“So anyway,” she continues, “that night, I was talking to one of the ladies who works in the music department at Valtoria High School, and apparently there were rumors their music teacher was planning to retire. So, after we exchanged information, she passed it along to the school board, and they just emailed me asking me if I was interested in a job!”

My eyebrows shoot up to my forehead. “And?”

“And...I think I’m going to take it!”

I jump up from my seat and move around the table to wrap her in a hug. “Oh my God, Hana! That’s amazing!”  She laughs as I give her a congratulatory squeeze. Hana has been trying to get a position with Valtoria High since we graduated. It has one of the top music programs in the city, and the waitlist is insanely long. Most of the teachers there have tenure, so not many positions open up unless someone quits, retires, or dies. Hana securing a position on the teaching staff will not only get her parents off her back but also open up so many doors for her. Her dream is to eventually start her own music school where she can teach music to kids of all social and economic statuses. 

We return to our seats as our drinks arrive and the waitress takes our lunch order. After she leaves, Hana turns to me. “So, enough about me. Tell me about the new nanny job.”

I smile. “The interview went really well. I met the family I’ll be working for. They seem really nice and I’m excited to get the opportunity to work with them. My first day with them is Monday. The pay is pretty great, plus, the children seem very well-behaved. Nothing like the last family I worked for. The mother comes off a bit cold, but she seems pretty easy to work for. At least I don’t have to worry about her micromanaging everything I do.”

“Uh-huh. And what about the father?” 

I whip out my phone and google “Liam Rhys” to show her a picture of him. After scrolling past links to his company and click-baity articles from the local tabloids, I pull up a photo of him and his older brother from a few years ago. I hand the phone to her. She glances at it, her eyes wide.

“Oh wow...Riley… That’s Liam Rhys,” she says, warily.

“Yeah. What about it?”

She shakes her head and hands the phone back to me. “Nothing, it’s just his family is very well known throughout the city, as well as in the tabloids. Not to mention, he’s extremely attractive, so you need to be careful.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “What are you trying to say, Hana?”

Her face turns serious. “You’re a wonderful person, Riley. I read those tabloids, and I see what they say about the nannies of public figures like him. I don’t want your name dragged through the mud because you were photographed staring too hard at Liam.”

“It will be fine, Hana. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I remember what happened with Ben Affleck’s nanny. And Gavin Rossdale’s nanny. And Jude Law’s nanny”

“Those men were also sleeping with their nannies while they were still married. Even if it gets that far, he’s getting divorced. We wouldn’t be doing anything wrong.”

“The public won’t see it that way. They’ll blame you for the split. Just be careful.”

I nod, taking her words seriously. Our waitress returns with our meals and we dig in. We spend the rest of the meal gossiping about our friends from college; who’s working where, who’s getting married, who got arrested, and so forth. After the check arrives, we pay our tabs and gather our things to head out. As we exited the restaurant, Hana turns to me and grabs my arm turning my body toward hers.

“Hey. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need anything. Please don’t forget that.” 

I smiled and wrap her in a hug. “I know. Don’t think that I won’t take your words to heart. I know what I’m getting myself into with the Rhys family, and I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Of course, that’s what besties do.” Her phone chimes inside her purse. She releases me and reaches into her purse to retrieve it. She frowns then slides it back into her purse. “I’d ask you if you wanted to head over to The Double Tappe for a drink, but my mom wants me to come over. I’ll see you back at the apartment?”

“You bet. I think I’m going to head over to the Northbridge Mall and buy some new outfits for my new job.”

She laughs and wraps me up in another hug. “‘Kay. Call me later,” she says before turning and walking down the sidewalk. I wave goodbye and take off in the opposite direction. As I stroll down the street, I walk past a magazine stand. There on the rack is the latest issue of Trend the receptionist was reading earlier. I pull a $5 from my purse, and set it on the counter, before picking up a copy of the magazine. After thanking the cashier, I slip the magazine in my bag and continue walking until I reach the bus stop on the corner. When the bus arrives, I step on, flash my Transit Pass, and take a seat near the front. I settle in and pull the magazine out to read up on my new employers.  

The article shows pictures of Liam, Madeleine, and the kids at the park. The kids look adorable playing with their father and each other. Madeleine is sitting on a bench, her nose in her phone, wearing her usual resting bitch face. I swear, that woman never smiles. Then, there’s Liam. The butterflies in my stomach start fluttering at the sight of him playing with his children. The cutlines on the photos mention how happy he looks to be spending the day away from work with his kids, but I don’t need to read it. I can see it in his face. 

Despite his notoriety here in New York, he’s still a man that is devoted to his family. It’s a shame his soon-to-be ex-wife, couldn’t see that. Stop it, Riley. Their relationship is none of your business. But it is, though. Now that I’m working for their family, their business is my business. Which means I have to keep my mouth shut about what happens behind closed doors. I’d hate to lose my job because I told someone something, who told someone else, who leaked it to the press.

I read on and catch myself staring at the pictures of him. It’s unfair how good looking he is. The fact that he is a doting dad makes him that much sexier. My cheeks flush as I imagine sitting at the park with him and the children. In my fantasy, I’m sitting on a picnic blanket, a wicker basket full of snacks and drinks, while he chases Philip and Charlotte around the grass. After they tire themselves out, they wander over and I pass out juice boxes and crackers. Liam comes up behind them, smiling. When he reaches me, he kneels on the blanket, takes me in his arms, and presses the most sensual kiss to my lips. 

The squealing of the bus’s breaks rips me from my little daydream and I shove the magazine in my purse. Nope. Not going there. I exhale loudly and stare out the window as the bus continues down the street. Oh man, I’m in big trouble.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

The Bet

Summary: Kiss me under the mistletoe let’s get that dough.

Oneshot

Mark Tuan X Reader

Not Requested

Prompt: 1. “I bet you can’t make that girl/guy, kiss you under the mistletoe before the end of the night”

Christmas seemed to get more and more boring with each year but when you had friends like I do and clubs that stayed open on that day, it seemed to not matter anymore. I get dressed up, looking nice, to have a few of my friends pick up. We danced for a while, before going up into the VIP booths, and talked about things, everyone but me and the designated driver drinking. Margret fully drunk at this point, not one with a very high alcohol tolerance, but drinks more than all of us do bets me:  “I bet you can’t make that guy, kiss you under the mistletoe before the end of the night” While pointing at the guy, she was talking about, I glare and say, “How much you bet?” “I’ll bet you a hundred” We shake on it and we put it on a napkin so she can’t bail. 

The joke was on her, I’ve known this guy for a long time. We were childhood friends and looking at him now, he looked stunning in that suit. Dancing the night away, when I come over to him and exclaim, “Hey Mark! How has life been?” “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” “There’s a lot you don’t expect from me isn’t there~,” I say in a teasing tone, and I continue, “Let me get to the point, you see my friends up there made a bet that I couldn’t kiss you under the mistletoe before the end of the night… And they bet a hundred on it, and I’ll split it half and half with you-” He shrugs his shoulders and tells me, “Well, what are you waiting for?” “Well, can I try to court you?” “Try? I think you already have over the years” That leaves me in shock, “You mean to tell me you liked me after all these years-” He shrugs again, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? Does this come as such a shock?” Shaking my head rapidly, “I had the biggest crush on you throughout high school, and you didn’t even think to look at me twice, back then” He sighs looking down at his feet before looking back up at me intently, “Well, I was kind of busy making out with Jinyoung to get over you, or at least make you jealous, and try to rile you up so you asked me out… Neither worked” Groaning, “Fuck I wish I knew that sooner, I would have asked you out way sooner.” “Well, what do you say, you take me out on a date after we kiss under the mistletoe, and get that dough?” 

We move over to a branch of mistletoe, and Mark takes the lead, dipping me and kissing me on the lips. Making out for a while, we start slow dancing, I giggle with him. As we twirl around for a bit before, I say I'm going to go get the money, I kiss his cheek and leave; "I can't believe you did it" as they hand me the hundred. I smirk, "Next time, don't pick someone I know" my friend gaps at me like a fish out of water. I sprint down and over to Mark and we go out for the first time, as lovers. 

You see I've loved this man since we were in high school, we lived across the street from each other, our parents always saying how cute we would be together. Once, we became close, they had thought anytime now one of them was going to fall for each other. And this whole time he liked me back, and I simply can't stop thinking about that. The moment I realized how I felt was when I had gotten into a wreck. I called him and he was down there in minutes consoling me, and I notice how much he cared for me. Considering I was on the opposite side of town, and it should have taken thirty minutes to reach me from his house. He only took five minutes, which he claims was because all the lights were green. Considering it is mostly stop signs, and 25 miles per hour through the streets. I don't think he stopped at any, by the time he was there and holding a shaking crying me. To find out he loved me all that time, makes sense because what sane person would disobey every traffic law if it wasn't because of someone they loved. 

Turns out almost everything is closed on Christmas we were about to just go to one of our houses and make dinner when we see a little restaurant opened. The neon letters, barely noticeable, they were probably haven’t worked on since they were first opened. We rush over, and he opens the door for me, "My love" I roll my eyes, winking at him as I walk through the door. The black and white tiles and the cat clock giving the vibe of the 50s, everywhere you looked was a new decade. The jukebox playing 60s music, the chairs look to be from the 90s. But it all felt so right, and so homey, in a weird way. We sit in booths that seemed to come right out of the movie Grease. An older lady comes out on roller blades, gives a menu and rolls away. I look at Mark, this place is so weird but yet so cozy. As the lady comes back, "Sorry I had to deal with an old friend. What would you two cuties like?" We blush before I could answer Mark says, "A monster chocolate milkshake, two straws please" She smiles at us, "Anything else honeys? Or would you like more time?" I politely ask for more time, and she smiles and rolls away. 

After we order, I casual place my hand on his, he grins at me before intertwining them. "I can't believe we waited this long" He smiles, "Yeah me neither, it seems like yesterday I was fantasizing that you were taking me to prom instead of Jinyoung. Yeah, he was a prince, but he wasn't you." He tells me softly, "I wish I had known Mark, I would have danced with you all night long that night instead of him." He kisses my hand, and I continue to speak, "I'd say we both waited too long, but why talk like that. Because you're going to be stuck with me even longer." He laughs and I slightly chuckle, and we both take a sip from our chocolate milkshake. The little old lady comes out with our food, and she asks, "If you don't mind how long have you two been together?" I look at him before I answer, "Well, officially it's our first date. But I've been in love with him for a long time" he squeezes my hand, "I've loved them longer-" "Nuh-uh" "Yeah-huh" she chuckles, "I hope this is the first date of many! You seem to both be a perfect match for each other, my mother used to tell me when two people are meant to be you can see a heart shape form around them, and I certainly see that with you two. This is a strong bond, yeah you may lose faith in each other, but it's a choice to find that faith again. And I believe you two can do it." And with that, she's gone, again. It seems she likes that gone with the wind idea. 

Our hands intertwine while we eat, not much conversation, my thoughts clouded up in her words. Love is a choice, not a feeling, you have to choose to look in their eyes and find the stars not just wait for them to appear. I have faith we can do it too if we waited this long we can hold up with each other. It's only been a few hours with him as an official couple… but it feels as though we've been together forever. Looking in his eyes I see the stars, and I hope he sees the same in mine. 

Little did I know is that he sees the whole universe and then some in my eyes. We start talking about meaningless things, "Do you wanna spend the rest of the night at your house or mine?" "I don't think you want to see my roommates mess, because I have to tell him three weeks in advance because he's a messy individual…" "It’s your dog isn't it?" He laughs and nods, "Yeah, that lazy bum never cleans." "I think the owner might be the lazy one" He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, but you still love me right?" I laugh, "Sadly" he kisses my hand again. 

She comes out with two big slices of chocolate cake, "It's on the house, you two remind me of my wife and me in the old days. Here's your check, and meet me at the counter when you're done" We thank her, digging in, "Man she's so nice, can we come here again?" I ask, "Anytime babe." I grin as I finish, rushing to pay, because I know he'd tried to pay for us like he used to every time we went to the café to study and we got treats. Its payback time. He grumbles at me, "You took my turn" "I've never gotten a turn, it's only fair" He pouts, as she gives us our change. "You kids are too cute, I hope I see you two soon again!" We tell her we will, thanking her again and walking out with big smiles on our faces. He takes my hand and intertwines our fingers, "So how is the pizza job going" "Strong, I'm the manager there… and I'm planning to save up enough money to buy the shop across the road to make that flower shop I used to always talk about." "Really? Wait is it the building right there?" I nod with a smile on my face, "Oh I was planning on making that a mechanic shop" I stop turning to look at him, "Well how about a flower shop in the front and a mechanic shop in the back? We'd make a fortune… with people usually needing to get their car fixed up, sees flowers that would make their significant other feel loved… they buy it while they get their car fixed. They fix up both their love lives at the same time. Their baby, the car is all fixed, and their romantic relationship or platonic relationship is fixed too." He kisses my forehead, "I knew there was a reason I fell for you… you always have the greatest ideas"

--

Needless to say, we bought the shop together, I quit my job at the pizza place becoming full time at my flower shop. Teaching Mark about the types of flowers and meanings, as he teaches me how to rebuild a motor which consists of the engine and transmission. 

We live above the shop now, him coming home with grease on his face, and his coveralls dingy, throwing them into the laundry. His white shirt and blue jeans still are the death of me after all these years. Or if I come in later after consulting a client on which flowers would better suit their needs. Which meanings are what, those orange lilies are not so nice especially if you want to live with them for the rest of your life. With dirt splashing the sides of my face, and soil caked under my nails. Even after the long days, we still find ourselves collapsing on the bed to talk, and hold. One of us being shooed off to take a shower, because the other one just got clean and doesn't want soil/grease all over them. 

It's been a while since then and every month we go to the restaurant, called Loving, it was named after her wife, whose last name she took. It's our 3rd anniversary we go there when she smiles at me and winks. I cock my eyebrow up at her, she became our grandmother, so if we ever need advice we come to her. So it's no surprise she would know something before me. 

We sit down eating a special that Bibi cooked up for us, certainly not on the house anymore. But a bit cheaper, since we're veteran customers to this place. I get up and flipping through the songs to find Marvin Gaye's song How Sweet it is to be Loved by You I turn it on and twirl and start walking to our booth to see Mark on one knee, "Did you lose a pen baby?" I ask rushing over, going to help find whatever he lost. When I look down as he shakes his head, "No,... but (Y/n) would you do me the favor, after all these years, be mine…" Before I can answer, he goes on, "I thought long and hard on how to do this, we had talked about getting married before, but I had no idea how to propose to you. So after long talks with Bibi, I decided to do it here. Where our first date took place, where we made it official, where I decided that from then on out that I was going to be there for you 110%. That every day from then on I looked at the lover of my dreams. The one who I knew deep down inside I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, but it was finally becoming true. That when Bibi told us that we were meant to be my heart soared and still hasn't come back down from that high… that I want to make it official with you, I hope it isn't too soon. And if you need more time-" "Mark please stop right there, I've talked to you about marrying you a lot, because I have wanted to spend the rest of my life with you for a long time, and you're truly the man of my dreams. Nothing you can do that can change that. Now the only thing I can see that you lost is your ability to marry anyone else." He slides the ring on to my finger, "That's not a loss for me…" He pulls me in and kisses me deeply just like he did that night at the bar. Bibi comes over, "You're grossing out all my customers-" "There's no one here but us-" "Well, you mushy gushy kids, are grossing me out. I better be the maid of honor. Or so help me, Mark." We laugh at her as she sticks out her tongue. 

To say the least, Christmases with him, became less boring, he made me feel something for the holiday again, and it made me feel so good. Our first Christmas together as a married couple was weird because it was still objectively the same, but the wedding photos decorating our mantle surrounded by garland was different. And yes, Bibi was the Maid of Honor, to clear up any questions about that. It felt like I’ve been married to him a lot longer than that, he never fails to surprise me. I wake up to him coming into our bedroom with Hydrangeas and Carnations, I giggle our first anniversary together as a married couple is what the carnations resemble, while the Hydrangeas resemble our fourth anniversary together. Lasting vows and joy for years to come the Carnations scream; appreciation and gratefulness for the two of us being together, the Hydrangeas. “You’re probably asking yourself, how does Mark know what flowers to get? Well, its simple I listened to you and I also asked Bibi for help” I laugh, hands gesturing for him to come here, I have a vase strategically placed on our bedside table and carefully place them there. Pulling him to my arms, kissing his nose, I reach behind my head, underneath the pillow where the box laid thankfully unharmed. “Bibi and I went shopping for hours for the perfect gift for you. And I don’t know if you’ll like it or need it, but this for you”I say handing him the long but small in width box, “Babe, anything you get me, I’ll like and you know it” He carefully unties it and pulls it up, and it’s a long silver tire gauge with the words engraved on it, ‘I love you, but the tires are low on my car’ He looks over at me with a laugh, and kisses me, “Thank you, I’ll fix the tires tomorrow, but would you mind spending all day in the house?” I nod, and he places the tire gauge on the nightstand and wraps his arms around me, as I wrap my arms around him, “Merry Christmas, Flower” I look up at him, “Merry Christmas, Grease” He rolls his eyes at me, and pulls me closer into him, my arms wrapping around his torso with ease and we fall back to sleep together.

[polygamyff]

43. Part 3

Robyn is so damn happy; I am happy to see her happiness, and this is what I wanted. She moved here for me and that was such a big thing of her to do so to see her happy, to see her giggling over such a thing I feel like I am doing my part “are you ready to see the home? Jay, you know what I missed you out. You good? Long time hasn’t it? Actually, we need to discuss something, Robyn get your things together. We need to go” getting up from the seating area, hearing a little yelp “aye, calm down little mama ok? I will be back” Reign is our here screaming at me “come with me” walking off with Jay “thank you for coming here with my family, bringing them here safely, I wanted to ask. Did you deal with it?” turning to him “I was going to mention it to you, but on the low. I did meet with him; funny thing is when I said it. He goes that is just some thot, I said, no my nigga. She is more then that, we beat his ass” he got his phone out from his pocket “oh my god, you’re the owner of Davenport hotels” a group of females were walking by, one of the girls in the group stopped “yes, you’re Maurice Davenport. Wow! Your hotel is amazing, they even put us in a better room” nodding my head “I am glad you’re enjoying your stay here” this white girl can just move on now, or maybe I am being stand offish with them “I am actually loyal to Hilton, I am from Australia” I did think their accent was different “oh wow, how is New York treating you ladies? Wait, you know about me all the way from Australia” I have been dying to do this, getting my hand out “sorry, my manners. Welcome to my hotels” shaking her hand “oh it’s ok, and I saw your face on the news when it broke out. This was a last minute trip here, and the Hilton hotel we did book they couldn’t fit us in, apparently they overbooked, which is understandable, it is in the middle of the city so they put points on my card and said come here, I was more then happy. We came here for my mother, she just completed chemotherapy” she pointed at her mother, looking over at her “oh wow, congratulations. Nice to meet you” reaching over and shaking her hand “thank you sir” she said “well I am always around; my office is like below this building. It’s always nice hearing this kind of story, and on me. You ladies can have the full spa treatment on me, Diane. These ladies, take their room number from them and it’s on me, their full spa treatment ok? It’s been a pleasure meeting you all, thank you” the ladies look all in shock “oh my god, thank you so much. You’re so kind!!” her mother said “It’s ok, have a nice evening ladies” Diane gestured for them to walk “thank you, nice meeting you” I smiled nodding my head “you’re a good guy” Jay said, I chuckled turning to him “how did I do? No flirting, that shit is turned off” I think I did well “you spoke to them like a business owner and here” he turned his phone “what was that all about?” Jay turned his phone off, Robyn creeping up on us.

Turning to Robyn “they travelled from Australia to here, they had some trouble-” Robyn shushed me “I heard it all, they were loud. It was a nice touch what you did for her mother, I was just asking. We are ready to go” smiling at Robyn “well I don’t want you to say oh you was doing this and that” I know Robyn on what she is like “I think you have learnt” watching Terry walk over to us “so shall we go? Is the SUV outside?” Reign is still attacking the watch, I don’t know what her problem is with it “Mi Amor, come here” reaching over “oh my god, I didn’t see these baby. Momma putting these cute shoes on you. Oh wow, looking all pretty for me. Can she walk yet?” I asked, pressing kisses to Reign’ cheek “no, but she is grabbing the side of things to drag herself up if she is close to something, she needs to crawl first” nodding my head, walking around Robyn and placing Reign on the floor, grabbing her hands and holding her up. Reign looked up at me “hey momma, get those legs moving. Show off those shoes baby” Reign giggled and yelped out, I laughed at Reign and she just pulled a goofy face at me “one, two” slowly lifting her up with her arms “three” I grabbed her body and picked her up “weee” before holding her close to me, hearing Reign giggle the loudest warms my heart “come on then, let’s go” placing Reign on my shoulder while still holding her with my one hand, the door man opened the door for me “sir and ma’am” he said to Reign, walking down the steps from my hotel. Reign is so quiet now, looking up at her and she is just staring at everything from a height.

I am feeling a little nervous now, I hope Robyn likes the house and I mean if she doesn’t then I am totally screwed, I don’t see Robyn hating it “so what you been up too?” Robyn asked, bringing my head forward, Terry is sat between us “things, we need to talk later” Robyn let out an oh “is that a good or bad thing?” I laughed nervously “erm, possibly. I am joking, it’s not that bad but it depends on how you feel about it” Robyn side eyed me “what about you? How was your last days in Cali? Emotional?” Robyn shook her head “I was excited to come; I think once I heard the news that you are divorced I wanted to free run to you. I wanted to see you; you don’t know how happy you have made me. Don’t you feel free? Because I do” I smiled at Robyn “I do, I am happy but how you been Terry? Happy to be here?” I thought I would ask Terry, she seems quiet “I am ok thank you, I am happy to be here with you all but I do miss home, I am here until my daughter can find her feet. With her going to work next week, she asked, and I don’t mind. You both can find the right pattern that will work for you both” she is so sweet “that means a lot to me, to us. Also Reign, she adores you so much so what are going to do in Cali? You can always stay with us?” Terry shook her head “my daughter needs to be with her own family, she needs to build this bubble for herself. I don’t want to be in the way. Not right now, this is the most important part. This is where you both will find your feet, find how your family dynamic will work. Once you have done that, then I will be happy to stay with you. I feel you both need time; you need to spend these moments alone. I said to Robyn, I hope you both try do things yourself, I think Reign will appreciate it more. With Robyn at work and then you, I know you are fully capable of keeping her and Robyn needs to confident in that, in the fact you will be ok” nodding my head “you’re right, like everything you have said. It’s right, this is why you’re such a good woman” Terry cooed out “stop it, I try my best” she is too good for a man like Thomas “do you miss him? Thomas?” I had to say it “well, I saw him. Just before Robyn left. I told him that she was moving, and he wanted to fix things. Robyn will speak on that, but I saw him, and I was hurt. He didn’t need to make me feel like he did, you know. But do I want to be divorced, not sure but I do feel at ease” Robyn saw Thomas, she didn’t mention it.

“I was gobsmacked when I heard how much the home was, Maurice why did you spend so much?” Terry asked, Terry is not amused by the fact I spent so much “because, honestly. Terry this is it, this is my forever home with me and Robyn, I don’t see us moving again, ever. We may buy holiday homes, but this is the home for us. And if god plans it, and we do get old together then we will retire somewhere peaceful, where we can watch the sunset every night” Robyn cooed out “oh my god, Maurice. That is so sweet, you really planned ahead” I chuckled “well I wanted you to live good, but I haven’t seen the home though, not as of yet anyways. But I know that the price is a lot but it’s New York, and if Robyn doesn’t like it I will not be happy, but I see that she will like it” Terry sighed out “she is so spoilt Maurice, like seriously” I shrugged laughing “oh this is it Robyn” I remember seeing the pictures of it “the home is fully furnished though so I hope you like it” the home looks so nice, seeing the double black doors “Maurice! Central park is outside my home!” Robyn spat, she ain’t wrong it is “well I got the seller here, he is going to take us around. I asked him” opening the SUV door “Maurice, Khaleesi is behind you” getting out of the car, turning around and reaching into the SUV and grabbing the leash.

Richard made his way over to me “Mr Davenport, we finally meet. I must say, the home at this price and you didn’t want to see it? Let’s just say, I was shocked but you won’t be disappointed and is this your fiancé?” Richard said, moving to the side “yeah, this is Robyn and my daughter Reign and my future mother in law Terry” Richard shook their hands “aww she is asleep right, well I am the agent Richard. I have been in contact with Maurice since he came to us. I sent him the pictures and right off he just said yes, didn’t want to see it but now we are here. This newly transformed residence delivers a premium property experience crafted on a scale and magnitude that will leave you speechless with its stunning interior design by Thierry W Despont and while making a statement in architectural mastery by Pierre Yves Rochon. The trophy Upper East Side townhouse features over 13,000 sq ft of internal space including seven bedrooms, eight bathrooms and three powder rooms. An internal elevator and dumbwaiter connect each level from the basement to the private rooftop garden. There is a selection of generous formal and informal living spaces, a reception gallery, media/screening room and a fourth-floor library that overlooks the living area” I just smiled seeing Robyn’ rection “sorry, eight bathrooms!? What on earth am I going to do with eight bathrooms?” I laughed and shrugged “least we can hide from each other” I can’t wait to see inside “On the basement level, a resort-style fitness centre is fully fitted out with a massage room, steam room, 20 ft. swimming pool and gymnasium. An entire floor master suite comes complete with a separate dining space, a luxurious master bathroom and access to its own private garden terrace. I can imagine this will be your room Maurice?” nodding my head “you know it” I laughed “There is a selection of generous formal and informal living spaces, a reception gallery, media/screening room and a fourth-floor library that overlooks the living area. I say that room makes the best statement there is. I would make that room your main living space, I may add” this guy must have read this script and memorized it “The chefs kitchen will delight entertainers with its spacious island bench, stone countertops and high-end inclusions, plus there are separate staff quarters, Crestron temperature and humidification control, radiant heat, and a security system that includes keyless entry. If you need to hire any chefs, I do know some in the industry that are great” Robyn grabbed my arm “what the fuck did you just buy? This is fit for a queen!” Robyn spat “and you are, Richard you might be right. I may need that number, depends on Robyn actually” I think I have chosen the perfect home.

I like this keyless entry shit, it’s so much better “before we go in, in the basement level, a resort-style fitness centre is fully fitted out with a massage room, steam room, 20ft swimming pool and gymnasium, as well as an entertainment zone with customized built-in wet bar. You can get your hairstylist to come here, you have everything here” he opened the door and stepped inside “Welcome to your new home, come on in. You requested it to be furnished and we did just that” the white marble flooring is just the best, like I love marble flooring anyways “this is so unreal, oh my god. I can’t even take it in. This looks like a hotel; how can this be!?” Robyn said staring around the reception area “so this is the reception, keyless entry. So, you can see from your tablet, mobile, TV who is outside. You can then unlock the door if you know the person, they can sit here and wait for you also. It’s a beautiful setting, we like to call it the reception gallery, the beautiful pictures. These steps lead to the basement, but I think we want to see upstairs first right?” Richard said “whatever the ladies would like to happen” I shrugged “yes, please! Oh my god, like I have so much to see” Robyn is happy and so am I “your things, they got delivered here this morning, Maurice. Yours? Well we had your assistant deal with that, she placed the boxes where she assumed they needed to be, so that is why boxes are not around but that is something you need to both do of course but to the ladies, if you would like to take the indoor elevator, save you both from walking, you do have a sleeping child in your arms” Robyn placed her free hand over her mouth “I am shook, I can’t even deal” Robyn said “I am speechless, like I can’t even believe this right now. Like oh my god” this makes me happy to be honest “this floor though Mr Davenport, is where your staff can stay, through these double doors, your staff can stay here. So security team, maid or even cooks. There is three bedrooms on this floor but that does not include the seven bedrooms you have generally, those are excluded” impressive “I didn’t think of having security around like that?” Jay laughed “I can live here if you want, I mean have you seen the place” Richard is showing Robyn the elevator “Oh why not, the rich and famous get what they want. They have it, I am sure you know this” nodding my head “I do Richard, we have maids at my home in Texas but, I don’t think Robyn will like such a thing” she is not used to it “madam, you need too. So, we will see you upstairs” he closed the shutter.

There is a lot of walking “so, the main event. You heard me say it, I saved it for last. I said this should be your main living area, the luxury. So, you walk through here, and this is your library, these are all real books we bought, all readable. But you walk here, and this balcony overlooks this living area. Just look how beautiful it is to just sit and stare at your home, the nights you can spend together in front of the fire. Or you can get the projector down, you can even have a party here and look over your guests from here” he isn’t wrong, this is impressive “what you think? You want this to be the main living area, I mean shit we got plenty of them, but this looks like the biggest don’t it?” I asked Robyn “I am in shock Maurice, like this is just. I mean, I just don’t know what to say. You see this in the movies, it’s not real life and this is real life. My god, over my dead body I will not move from this place, I want to sleep in every bedroom and use every bathroom, I am just in awe but this is the biggest living area, you are right. I just can’t take it in” Robyn laughed shaking her head “you must be used to it?” Richard said “erm, well my parents’ home in Texas has a ballroom, it’s very big and I must admit. I loved it and hated it because it felt too big but then I could be alone also, they never knew where I was, but I am impressed. I am happy, there is one thing we didn’t have was the elevator, but I am happy with this” I think Richard thinks I am too calm about it, like Robyn is having a meltdown about everything.

Closing the door behind Richard “nigga you crazy, I can’t believe you purchased this big ass home. It’s amazing though, congratulations” Jay got his hand out, dapping him “thank you, I think Robyn is a little overwhelmed but at the end of the day. I think she is going to need to have some maids here and security, I don’t trust people, but I need to speak to her about it, what do you think?” I like this hear his advice on this “see, my dad’ home they don’t have security but they are behind closed gates, they leave their door open, nobody is around but this is New York even though this side crime is low as shit, just you know. I need staff, to run this home” rubbing my chin “I think it’s a good idea, she can’t clean this herself, she needs to enter your world. If she is marrying you boss, she needs to delve into your life. This means get people to help out, she will be working, the home will be dead out nobody home. You just never know even though; crime is low shit can happen. Malik is after your blood all the time so I can help you with the security” this is what I mean, I need to always keep my family safe.

[tpo-akemi]

Chapter 2: Reflection

There is a reason why people say the dead haunt you forever. The situation I am in is the perfect example for it.

           Sam. The friend I thought I lost a decade ago, was now standing right in front of me. There wasn’t anything to debate, it was him. The devilish gleam in his dark eyes gave it right away. It’s hard to forget the eyes that ruined your life.

           Back in high school, he was always the adventurous teenager that people liked, whether they were male, female, classmates, parents or teachers. He was a magnet that attracted people naturally, so it was normal for me to get close to him. One thing that people didn’t know about his life was the negative connotation to his adventurous spirit. He always liked to try new things, which got him into trouble. Bit by bit, his adventures walked the thin line of law and morality. Trespassing, destruction of property, and finally, drugs. Nobody beside his mother knew about his dark side, since she was the one using everything in her power to cover up her son’s mistakes. Unfortunately, the drugs came into his life at a time when I was at my biggest low, so he offered to help in his own way. He was the reason I became addicted. The highs were the only thing keeping me from sinking even lower mentally at that time and Sam was the only friend I had. He pulled me down under the water with him, but the problem is that you can only hold your breath for a few seconds.

           It was a cold winter night, just three days after my birthday passed, when my mother and I were woken up by loud knocking. It was Sam’s mother, shaking uncontrollably, sobbing so much that I feared she was going to lose all water in her body, and screaming “He is gone! He is gone!” We called the police, but it was too late. Sam’s death certificate said that he had died from a cocaine overdose, but it was all lies, because here he is right now, standing alive and well in front of me.

           Sam pulled his mask down without a word and turned to the other members. “Today’s meeting will be postponed. We will meet tomorrow at the same time. Also, Mark, call one of your men to take out the trash.” He pointed his opened palm in the direction of Johnny’s dead body.

“Yes, Master Max.” A rather short man answered to the request from the 6th seat on the left from Sam’s chair. His voice was deep, not something you would expect from someone with such a small figure. He was dressed in a camouflage jacket, buttoned up only so a little sliver of his black shirt from underneath could be seen. On his head was a white mask covered in small white doll hands. Right after he answered he stood up from his seat and gave a deep bow from the waist down before returning back to his chair.

           With that, Sam turned on his heel back towards the door he came from and said “Everyone is dismissed.” In union, everybody stood up, bowed and chanted “Power to Simon.”

           I watched as the room emptied out slowly, one by one member leaving the conference room. Looks like there was an order in which the members left the room, probably to lower the risk of them finding out who their members are. When the last one left the room, I took a step towards the exit, but was immediately stopped by Sam’s hand wrapping around my forearm. I stopped in my tracks and turned towards him.

           “Tomorrow after the meeting, you will be coming with me to my office for some additional interrogation. It’s nothing special, I just want to collect all the necessary information before you begin taking on your role.” He explained and let go of my forearm when he realized I wasn’t going anywhere and had my full attention.

           “No problem. There isn’t much to say about my life anyway.” I answered. “Should I make a CV?” I added the joke at the end.

           At that Sam took off his mask again, showing the amusement on his face with a smirk and a low chuckle. There was that devilish gleam in his eyes again. God, how I wish I could wipe it off. That way I could at least have some revenge after he ruined my life with drugs.

           “There will be no need for a CV Chris. Just make sure you tidy up a bit. You will be showing me your face, and I am a sucker for good first impressions.” He added.

           If I didn’t have the mask on, he could easily see the color disappear from my face. I will have to show him how I look like tomorrow. There is no chance of him not recognizing me. Even a decade later, my face structure and hair haven’t changed one bit. The only thing different are the bags under my eyes and the level of messiness of my hair. Who knows what he will do if he finds out that one of his members knows who he really is and his backstory? I gulped down the large lump in my throat and with a slightly shaky voice said that it was not a problem. A pleased smile appeared on his face, showing that he was happy with my answer. Just like with the other members, he turned on his heel and started walking to his own exit.

           “You will be getting your official mask tomorrow too, so hold on to that one for one more day. When you exit the building, head right and you’ll find a parking lot . A black car with a chauffeur will be waiting for you and will drive you back home.” He added as he was ascending the stairs. I gave a noise of confirmation that I understood him and headed towards the exit. I could see Sam staring at me from across the room, waiting for me to leave so he could leave too. I took the hint and got out and went down the dimly lit hallway, alone this time.

           As promised, there was a black Honda waiting in the parking lot next to the building. My mask was already off so I wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention from people passing by. The main street of the city was always busy. Whether it was people heading home from shifts at work, or teenagers going out to clubs, there was always someone roaming the streets at night. I reached out and opened the car door and quickly entered the car. There was a tall man behind the wheel, the top of his head almost hitting the ceiling of the car. His age was clearly visible on his face, you could see that the wrinkles on his face were there for a while. His hair was jet black with a shine from the gray hairs that started to appear. His eyes had a stern, yet kind glare and above them were a pair of bushy eyebrows that matched his equally bushy mustache.

           “Excuse me sir, I believe you are in the wrong car. This is not a taxi, I am a paid chauffeur for someone.” Said the man calmly while turning to face me from his seat. His voice matched his appearance, it was deep and smooth, giving of an aura of safety around him.

           “I presume you were Johnny’s driver?” I questioned.

           “And I presume that by the tone in your voice and by your question that he is dead.” He replied. I didn’t say anything and after a few seconds he let out a deep sigh and shifted in his seat to face the wheel in front of him.

“Thought so. He was always getting in trouble with Master Max. I knew his sarcastic remarks would one day cross the line.” He added and shook his head. “Where to, Sir?”

“You will leave me at the bottom of the hill where the main church is.” I answered.

“Unfortunately Sir, that won’t be happening. My duty is to drive you home safe from the meeting, leaving you anywhere that isn’t the front of your house is out of question.” He explained.

“Then drive me to Liberty Quarter, the house number is 14.” I unwillingly complied.

The ride was quiet, the only noise coming from the subtle rumbling of the car engine. If the small bumps in the road weren’t rocking the car, I would have fallen asleep. I folded my arm at the elbow and leaned it against the closed window and put my head on top. The traffic lights would periodically splash a little light in the car so the interior would be visible for a few seconds. It was a decent looking car with black leather seats.

The thoughts in my head wandered to all the things Sam said. I will be showing him my face tomorrow and all will end. Sam will find out that his new member knows who he is and will shoot me dead. For some reason it doesn’t bother me. Maybe this shit show of a life will probably be over and I’ll get some peace. No, I can’t think like that, survival instinct Chris, activate it. I have to find a way to make myself unrecognizable to Sam. From what I remember, Sam had a very short fuse when we were teenagers, so there is a high probability of it still being prominent even ten years later. So somehow making an excuse to not take off my mask may make him become angry and shoot me anyway. There will definitely be a weapon for self-defense in that office. I will have to comply to everything he says. Maybe I could make some cuts and bruises on my face? I would need help for that, but the guys around my neighborhood can’t be trusted. Give them a finger and they’ll take the whole arm. I’d be dead in two minutes. I will have to find a way to do it myself. But how? Maybe…

“We are here Sir. I wish you a pleasant evening and night.” The driver broke the silence along with my chain of thoughts. I shook my head as an attempt to get back into reality quicker.

“Yeah, thank you for the ride. Hope you have a nice night too…uhm…”

“…Harrison.” He finished my sentence.

“Harrison, right. Your name really suits you. I’m Chris.” I mumbled.

The tall man shifted in his seat and faced me. He extended his hand and between his bony fingers was a little card. I took it and examined it. There was a series of numbers and underneath was a name. Harrison Duncan.

“This is my phone number, so you can call me when you want me to drive you somewhere, but keep it Simon related. I am not a free taxi. Call me 15 minutes before you need to leave for a meeting and I will be waiting in front of your house and take you to the place you need to be at.” He explained while pointing at me like he is scolding a child. I had to physically stop myself from rolling my eyes at him.

“No problem Harrison. My next meeting is tomorrow at the same time as this one. Can you wait for me here at 21:45? I think 15 minutes will be enough to get back to the building for Simon meetings.” I said.

“That works too.” Harrison added, ending his sentence with a chuckle as to show that he is amused with my answer.

After wishing him good night, I left the car and went towards my house. It could barely be called a house, but it was all I got. Harrison drove off after he saw that I got in my house. I turned on the lights and saw the familiar interior of my living room. Or maybe it is best to call it my bedroom. The room was small, just enough space to put in everything a person needed to live. On the left was a couch with a bundled up blanket on it and a pillow leaning on one of the armrests. Around it was random junk, from empty baggies to ramen cups filled with water and cigarette buds. Opposing the couch was a small TV, outdated and barely working. Left of the couch was a bar stand that divided the living room and kitchen, also covered in useless junk. The kitchen was also standard. Unlike the living room floor that was lined all the way around with a stained gray carpet, the kitchen had a tile floor. In the middle there was a small table, next to it a fridge, alongside with some work surface. Passing the fridge, a bathroom can be found and inside a washing machine, toilet, a dirty tub and a sink with a mirror above it. This dirty place was what I called home.

I sighed deeply and took off my jacket before throwing myself on the couch. I contemplated on if I should change into sleepwear before dosing off, but my body and mind had too much stress this day that they really needed some rest. I took the blanket from underneath me and covered myself with it and was off like a light.

Unfortunately, my slumber was short lived. I woke up screaming from a nightmare. The light was still turned on and it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the brightness of it. I didn’t remember what the nightmare was about, but I know it had to do something with Sam and death. I glanced at the clock above the TV. It was 4 AM. I continued staring at it while I concentrated on steadying my breathing. When I felt my heart rate slow down I closed my eyes and sagged into the couch with a sigh that quickly turned into a grunt. I raised my hands and covered my face, completely closing myself off from the rest of the world.

I can’t do this. I’m not ready for this kind of pressure. I will slip up at some point I’ll be as good as dead. The thought that the day I slip up is very likely tomorrow, actually today now that midnight passed, alone is making my heartbeat rise quickly. I need to find a way to calm down.

I got up and rushed to the bathroom as quickly as my still half asleep body would let me. Turning on the faucet, I tried to cool down with splashing my face a few times, but to no avail. I can’t wash away my features, I can only make them clearer by getting off the dirt from my face. Can I take them off? Before even questioning my thought process, I started clawing at my cheeks and pulling down my skin as if I was trying to rip it off like a mask. I grunted at the slight sting my fingernails made on my cheeks, my frustration only growing bigger realizing that it isn’t working. I finally came back to my senses and stopped. Splashing my face one last time, I turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel to dry off my face. What I saw in the mirror was a face of a madman. Streaks of redness went down from my eyes down to my jaw, yet I could still recognize the pale man in front of the mirror. No doubt about it. It was me. The jet black, dry hair and the round, foggy, hazel eyes that were staring right back at me. I could still see that it was me, and that means Sam will too. I was not out of danger yet. I need to think of something else. C’mon Chris, think, think! Then an idea popped into my head.

The mirror.

Smash your head into the mirror. It will leave you with bruises and cuts all over you face.

I looked away from my reflection and started pacing around the little bathroom. Is it really worth it? I am genuinely debating if I should smash my head into glass just for the sake of being mutilated. I don’t have anything to treat my wounds if I do go through with it, so there is a possibility of my dying from losing too much blood. But dying after Sam finds out who I am has a 100% chance of ending with me dying. I have to pick the less of two evils.

I stopped in front of the sink again and braced my hands on its sides. I took another glance in the mirror. I was met with an undetermined glare, and with that I knew I was going to chicken out.

“Focus!” I yelled at myself and glanced down at the drain and shook my head. I took a few deep breaths as I tried to make my thoughts shut up. I needed an empty head if I wanted to do this. I started tapping my fingers into the side of the sink, listening to the pleasing clinks of the stone. Clink, clink, clink. Suddenly, it was as if I heard him. The chuckle. That same low chuckle I heard just a few hours ago. Was Sam here? Is he mocking me? Does he think I’m weak? I lifted my head and in the reflection of the mirror I didn’t see myself. My face was swapped with a man in his late twenties, with black eyes and ashy blonde hair. I tapped the sink again.

Chuckle.

Without thinking, I let out an animalistic roar and smashed the mirror with my forehead. It broke on impact and some of the pieces fell into the sink below. Not that I cared. I finally attacked Sam. There he is, I see him stumbling, clearly surprised I actually had the balls to attack him. Serves him right. First he ruins my life, then he makes fun of me? He is looking for a death wish acting like that. I head-butted the mirror again and saw him fall back, but so did I. I wasn’t going to lose this fight this easily. I quickly got up and hit the mirror again, the amount of blood on the glass shards slowly getting larger with every try of an offense. At some point Sam turned into me, but at that point I was too gone to actually care. I got the momentum I needed and I wasn’t planning on losing it anytime soon. My body had different plans. I only got in a couple of more head-butts before my vision blurred from the mix of blood loss and multiple concussions. I tripped over my own feet and fell, hitting the area around my left cheekbone on the edge of the bathtub in the process.

I whined in pain when I finally hit the ground. I could feel the blood trickling down the sides of my face as I lied on the cold bathroom floor. The ringing in my ears was almost unbearable and the pressure in my head only made it worse. My breathing was shaky and no amount of air in my lungs, no matter how much of a deep breath I took. My heart was going a mile a minute, trying to pump blood to make up for the lost blood. My fingers shook and chills went down my spine every few seconds. My eyes were closed so the blood from the wound on my forehead wouldn’t get into them. I don’t know how long I stayed in that position, trying to slowly calm my whole system down. Slowly, my breathing got back to normal along with my heartbeat, and my shakiness and shivers went away. I slowly brought up my hands to wipe away the blood that was threatening to get in my eyes and got myself up into a sitting position.

“So...that happened.” I told myself as I rose from the floor slowly. I could finally see the aftermath. There was blood almost everywhere, a small pool of it on the floor where my head laid, on the walls around the mirror, the mirror itself and in the sink. This will be a bitch to clean up. Then I finally took a look at myself in the mirror, or what was left of it. In one of the shards I saw the reflection of an idiot. There was dried up blood all over my forehead and cheeks, cuts from the glass all over my nose and chin and I noticed a purple eye forming under my left eye. It probably came from the hit against the tub. Even if she tried, my own mother wouldn’t recognize me, which meant my job was done successfully. I reached out and opened the drawer under the sink in hopes of finding something that will actually help me clean my wounds a little bit. Lo and behold, an almost empty pack of anti-bacterial wet wipes was at the bottom of the drawer, along with some duck-tape. I carefully cleaned my wounds, one by one, using one wipe to clean it, and using another as a band aid, securing it with duck-tape to my face. After finishing the treatment, I took a few gulps of water before leaving the bloody bathroom. It is too early for chores; I’ll clean everything up in the morning. My steps were still shaky from the blood loss, but holding on to the wall and nearby furniture, I managed to shuffle up to the couch. I sank into my seat and threw my head back slowly and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before finally sinking back into my pillow and covering myself with the old blanket. This round of sleeping there were no nightmares.

[downstvged]

s u r v e y  :    p e y t o n    p e l l e g r i n o.

what’s this? there’s something paper clipped to the page... a stick of juicy fruit. how thoughtful.

basic information

FULL NAME: jamie claverton  peyton pellegrino PRONUNCIATION: PAY-ton pell-eh-GREEN-oh MEANING: noble, royal REASONING: his kidnapper father said he always looked like a peyton. strong, wise, dignified. NICKNAME(S): pey, pellegrino, pillsbury ( monty ), sparkles ( tess ), etc. PREFERRED NAME(S): peyton BIRTH DATE: july 24, 2000 AGE: 18 ZODIAC: leo GENDER: cismale PRONOUNS:  he/him ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:  heteroromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual NATIONALITY:  american. ETHNICITY: italian-american. his father’s got pellegrino pride.

background

BIRTH PLACE: milton, delaware  HOMETOWN:  milton, delaware.  his dad said he was born in ohio. everyone thinks he’s from cali, when they meet him. SOCIAL CLASS:  upper-middle. FATHER: presley claverton. matthew pellegrino. fire chief. 52. west ham’s most eligible and charming single father. and peyton’s best friend. faceclaim. MOTHER: theresa claverton.  francesca milluzzo. peyton never knew her. his dad said she deserted them shortly before his first birthday. SIBLING(S): none. BIRTH ORDER: first of three. the clavertons needed to fill the void. first and only. PET(S): none. but he adores anything fluffy. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES:  n/a PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: n/a. he’s always been too scared of his own shadow to ask a girl out. ARRESTS?: squeaky clean. PRISON TIME?: not unless you count double-shifts delivering pizzas.

occupation & income

SOURCE OF INCOME: works part-time as a pizza delivery boy at one of west ham’s most beloved pizza joints. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: very content, usually! people tip well and peyton enjoys the small talk. PAST JOB(S): assistant life guarding at the local pool in middle school, but that quickly ended after he had a panic attack on duty. SPENDING HABITS: peyton’s pretty frugal! his idea of a fun time is boarding around town with monty, or grabbing a scoop of ice cream at one of the local places. he’s not too big on driving, if he doesn’t have to. longboards almost everywhere. his dad’s job gets them ample cash, being fire chief, but they live modestly. pellegrino men are humble. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: his longboard. unfortunately, his anti-anxiety meds.

skills & abilities

TALENTS: deduction, longboarding, mock trial, stage lighting, studying, making people smile. he’s mario kart champion and he’ll never live that down. SHORTCOMINGS: overthinker. often, he limits himself just by thinking in circles. he... finds the good in people. assumes the best. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, and enough italian to get friendly with the kitchen staff. DRIVE?:  yes. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes. RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes, but longboards are way better. SWIM?: yes. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: he has a guitar and plays it decently well. sometimes he’ll hum a little tune and strum a few chords, but it’s nothing too major. PLAY CHESS?: yeah. BRAID HAIR?: ha! him? able to braid hair? he wishes. TIE A TIE?: he can double-knot his shoes. PICK A LOCK?: no.

physical appearance & characteristics

FACE CLAIM: noah centineo. EYE COLOR: deep hazel, primarily chocolate with pools of mossy green. HAIR COLOR: dark brown. HAIR TYPE/STYLE: wavy/curly. it does what it wants, and he rarely styles it, unless it’s for a mock trial competition or a student gov event. reference. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: he has a glasses prescription but always wears his contacts. DOMINANT HAND: right. HEIGHT: 6′1. WEIGHT: 165 lbs. BUILD: lean, trim, athletic. EXERCISE HABITS: he’s co-captain of the lacrosse team with monty, so they have daily team workouts. he goes for runs a lot, and likes HIIT training. does longboarding count? it should. he’s boarded all over this town countless times ( it’s also how he chooses to deliver pizzas, when the weather’s alright. ) SKIN TONE: tanned, smooth. reference. TATTOOS: none. he can’t handle needles. PEIRCINGS: none. MARKS/SCARS: a few on his arms and legs from nasty longboarding falls. NOTABLE FEATURES: his wild hair. million-watt smile. USUAL EXPRESSION: peaceful, welcoming. CLOTHING STYLE: reference.  leather bracelets, cuffed jeans, lots of solid colored and colorblocked tees. when he dresses up for mock trial, the girls kinda swoon. boy looks dashing in a suit. has a glasses prescription but always wears contacts. his dad says he looks sharper that way ( but it’s actually because, with glasses, he looks too similar to the claverton family. )  beat up chuck taylors, kind of untied on purpose. he’s got that whole loosely kept together, sleep deprived look down pat. JEWELRY: leather bracelets. sometimes he’ll wear a thin chain. ALLERGIES: n/a. BODY TEMPERATURE: the standard. he runs a little warmer than most. DIET: lots of pizza. mountain dew. juicy fruit gum’s basically a whole other food group. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: n/a. he can be a bit jumpy, sometimes, if he’s feeling on edge. his left pinky kind of clicks funny when he makes a fist, from when he broke his hand his freshman year.

psychology

MORAL ALIGNMENT: lawful good. TEMPERAMENT: phlegmatic. ELEMENT: earth. MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: anxiety disorder. SOCIABILITY: very approachable. warm. kindhearted. there’s a reason he’s the one tasked with getting class dues, as class treasurer. there’s a reason why he leads the lacrosse team. EMOTIONAL STABILITY:  typically very levelheaded. his anxiety can make that fluctuate, though. PHOBIA(S): having another panic attack in public. he hasn’t had one in front of anyone besides monty in a year. ADDICTION(S): does juicy fruit qualify? DRUG USE: none. very straight-edge.  ALCOHOL USE:  occasional, as much as you’d expect. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: not at all.

mannerisms

QUIRKS: peyton shoves his hands into his pockets when he’s nervous. he always looks for monty or tess in a crowded room, to get grounded. whenever he wears a flannel or a sweatshirt, he always pushes the sleeves up midway to his elbows. HOBBIES: lacrosse, longboarding, mock trial, reading, parkour ( a phase in freshman year ). watching football games with his dad. trying out weird recipes. HABITS: biting the edge of pens. turning his head to the side when he’s listening. offering people pieces of his lunch until he realizes there’s nothing left for him. NERVOUS TICKS: not knowing what to do with his hands. trailing off. looking at the ground. laughing. counting his own fingers. biting the tip of his tongue. DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: he genuinely wants to see people happy. he wants everything to run smoothly and willingly along.  FEARS: his meds will stop working. he’ll have a panic attack in front of his classmates, who are supposed to see him as calm, collected, put together. he’ll never get to know more about his mom. it bugs him. POSITIVE TRAITS: benevolent, bona fide, conscientious, suave, tenderhearted. NEGATIVE TRAITS: anxious, critical, restless, self-limiting, yielding. SENSE OF HUMOR: puns. wit. a lot of inside jokes with tess and monty. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: not really! he’s more likely to say frick or flipping than anything bad. CATCHPHRASE(S): “ oh shit ! ” & “ dude ! ” & “ what’s good ? ”

favorites

ACTIVITY: longboarding, hands down. ANIMAL: he’s got a super soft spot for rabbits. BEVERAGE: mountain dew or 7-up. BOOK: growing up, he loved the percy jackson series. CELEBRITY: stephen hawking. COLOR: green. DESIGNER: designer? he guesses, like... is gucci the right answer? he’s not really plugged in to that. FOOD: does juicy fruit count? FLOWER: he’s learning more about flowers, but he thinks sunflowers are pretty nice. kelly’s teaching him more about those. GEM: tiger’s eye. HOLIDAY: christmas. that’s when the famous pellegrino slutty brownies surface. MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: longboarding !! MOVIE: original star trek. MUSICAL ARTIST: saint motel. QUOTE/SAYING: “ we’re dead !  we survived but we’re dead ! ” – dash, the incredibles. SCENERY: rolling hills. sunset. SCENT: cinnamon. SPORT: lacrosse. SPORTS TEAM: in connecticut, he’s surprised he hasn’t been vilified for being a chicago bears fan. but he and his dad spent some time there, and going to those games became a weekly tradition. they watch them now, and it’s like a little piece of their story. TELEVISION SHOW: saturday night live, honestly. WEATHER: that golden-hour sunshine, just before sunset. lukewarm. mid-60′s. VACATION DESTINATION: hawaii. he’s always wanted to longboard down those colossal volcano-side roads.

attitudes

GREATEST DREAM: go into tech/lighting design for broadway. ask cassandra pressman out, for real. GREATEST FEAR: his dad won’t be able to function without him in west ham next fall. he’ll panic in front of people when he needs to seem strong. MOST AT EASE WHEN: he’s with his squad, the belugas. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: he’s allowed the time to overthink. when his dad doesn’t come home from his fire shift on time. when things don’t feel right. BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: the west ham mock trial team won the state championship this spring. BIGGEST REGRET: he never pressured his dad more about finding his mother. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: he had a panic attack in the middle of his treasurer speech freshman year. someone pulled the fire alarm right as he couldn’t breathe. to this day, peyton has no idea who that was, but he’s so friggin’ thankful. BIGGEST SECRET: his biggest secret’s not even known to him yet. matthew pellegrino isn’t his father; he’s his kidnapper. peyton pellegrino’s fake. doesn’t exist. TOP PRIORITIES: having monty and tess’s backs. taking care of his dad, since he’s still reeling from peyton’s mom leaving almost 17 years ago. bringing the lacrosse team to the state championships. making sure every single thing he does for west ham high’s theatre department is flawless: making art on that stage. finding out how to... conquer this anxiety. finding out how to muster up enough courage to make a move before it’s too late.

[jadekitty777]

Divine Intervention: Chapter 4

Unofficial Taiqrowweek: Day 5

And thus completes this little story! I hope you all have enjoyed so far! Only two days left now. Tomorrow we’ll get back into the drabbles!

Rating: T

Word Count: 7,000 (in total, the entire story is roughly 18,0000)

Ao3 Link: Chapter 4

Summary: [Afterlife AU] Qrow is a raider demon. His job is clear: Collect recently fallen souls for Hell. The more he could gather, the more power he would be granted. Easy, right?

Well, it would be, if not for a certain blond angel constantly getting in his way. Qrow was pretty sure Taiyang’s job wasn’t to keep the souls safe from him, but rather to infuriate him with his overblown righteousness and his insufferable smiles.

Eternal damnation wasn’t supposed to be this annoying.

~

Wind whistled in his ears as Qrow flew through a carnation pink sky. On the horizon, a large property stood. The main building of the childcare center was large and long, almost mansion-like with how many rooms were likely within. As he passed over the roof, he could see the acres of land that composed the backyard. There was a section of picnic tables, a playground, fields separated for different sports and, most amusingly, a corral for horses and a barn that stood at the very back. He headed for the soccer field where everyone seemed to be, angling his wings to land just inside the fence.

He was still getting used to wings made of feathers, so his landing was a bit messy, but no one noticed with a field full of excited kids of varying ages shouting and running across the grass. He spotted Ruby out there with them. The kids who had decided to sit out, along with all the caretakers, were on the sidelines. A few he recognized, like Weiss, who was wearing a cheerleader’s outfit but was doing more ordering than cheering. Oscar was sitting in the lap of another one of the caretakers, a man he hadn’t been introduced to who seemed to have an odd liking for green suits.

Tai’s daughter, Yang, seemed to be completely absorbed in the game as she pumped her fist into the air and yelled to one of the kids, “Come on Mercury, kick it! Like I showed you!”

Qrow watched the kid who had the ball rear his leg back, before punting it rather impressively across the field. The green-haired girl who was guarding the goal leapt for it, missing it by inches.

“Yeah thatta boy!” She cheered.

Weiss shook her pompoms wildly. “I told you guys to watch him!”

“Hey ice queen, you’re supposed to be cheering us on, not coaching!” One of the blond boys yelled.

“Shut up monkey boy!”

“Okay, okay, there’s no need for name calling.” Tai intervened. “Y’all line back up at the center and let’s go again!”

This was the chance to say something, but as Qrow geared himself up, he found his mind clouded with doubts.

Maybe this was a bad time.

Tai seemed busy.

He shouldn’t have come unannounced in the first place.

Man up already! He berated himself. He couldn’t honestly be more terrified of starting a conversation than facing down a demon from Hell’s Court, right? Of course he wasn’t! That’d be stupid.

Qrow opened his mouth and nothing came out.

In all fairness, he was a pretty stupid guy.

He was also a rather noticeable guy, because it only took Ruby a moment to spot him as she turned to join the others. “Mr. Qrooow!” She yelled excitedly, rushing towards him. He caught a glimpse of Tai’s surprised expression, but wasn’t given much time to read into it before he was being barreled into by fifty pounds of child.

“Oof! Jeez kiddo, I think you bruised something.” He said, tousling her hair.

“Nuh-huh I’m too tiny.”

Over her giggles, Qrow faintly heard Oscar say, “Uncle Oz that’s the goat man!”

“Oh!” Ruby’s exclamation drew his attention again. She jumped back, spinning around. “Did you see my wings? Aren’t they great?”

He knelt down as if he was getting a better look. They were a lot like his, except the primary feathers had a red gradient. “Yeah kiddo they’re pretty amazing. Bet you’ll be one of the best fliers around.”

“Yeah I will! I’ma be super fast!” She told him. A shadow fell over them, making them both look up.

Qrow hadn’t realized he’d been missing that dumb smile until he saw it again.

“Howdy thar.” Tai greeted. “What brings you around these parts stranger?”

He snorted. “Oh nothing, just thought I’d check in. See how you guys were doing.”

“Oo, oo! I made lots of friends! And Nana makes the best cookies.” Ruby revealed. She cupped a hand around her mouth, divulging secretly, “If you’re real nice, she might give you one too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

One of the kids yelled, “Ruby, come on! You’re holding up the game!”

“Okaaay!” She pat him on the cheek. “I gotta go kick butt now. Bye Mr. Qrow!”

Qrow watched her run back to the field, before his eyes drifted to Oscar. The little boy ducked a bit behind his uncle, but offered him a tentative wave. He smiled, waving back.

“They’re rather attached to you.” Tai observed.

He got to his feet, running a hand across the back of his head. “Not sure why.”

“Well, it’s not unusual exactly, but it usually happens between the guide and the soul. People ‘round here call it the Peter Pan effect ‘cause it’s so common.”

Qrow hummed thoughtfully as he eyed the other. Was that why he felt so compelled to find him? “That so? Guess I’m a regular ol’ Hook in that allegory then.”

“Nah, you’re more of a temperamental Tinkerbell.” Tai laughed over his indignant squawks, calling, “Hey I’m going to show Qrow around, do you guys got things here?”

“Yes, Tai dear, we can handle it. Have fun on your date.” His ex-wife called, looking just a little too devious.

And God forbid if Qrow didn’t jump on that one. “A date, huh? It’d better be up to my standards then.” He polished his fingernails against his chest like a posh rich man. “I’ll have you know I have rather elegant tastes.”

“Ugh. I’m not dignifying either of you with a response.” Tai grumbled, more for show than anything since he was clearly amused. “Come on, I’ll show you the barn first. And if you promise no jokes, I’ll even let you pet a horse.” He bounded over the fence, gesturing for him to follow.

“Afraid you’d have more luck getting a hog to fly than getting me to abide by your law, Sheriff.” He quipped as he landed beside him.

“I see you’re still quite the charlatan.” He laughed as they walked along the painted lines of the baseball field. “How have you been? You getting along well up here?”

“Well, I’m disappointed there’s no cloud trampolines.” He said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, hoping it made him appear more casual then he felt. “But, everything’s just about as full of rainbows and bunnies as I expected.”

He didn’t know why he bothered, since Tai had always had a knack for seeing right through him. “It’s hard to get used to, huh?”

“I mean, it’s not terrible. It’s just weird. And I don’t really know what to do with myself most days.” He admitted.

“Most new souls spend their first few weeks just visiting family or exploring. Have you found Raven yet?”

“Yeah. First thing I did after we separated at the gates was go to Rae’s place. Heh, it was quite a shock for her.” Qrow wouldn’t reveal that her way of dealing with it was punching him in the face just to make sure he was real.

One of the things that had surprised him was discovering that his sister hadn’t been immediately aware he’d entered Heaven – or had even known that he’d died a few years back. Apparently, that was just how it worked. It gave the newcomers time to adjust and visit family and friends at their own pace. Which was probably a blessing, since most reunions were guaranteed to be emotional – that is, if all his bawling was anything to go by.

“Mostly just been with her, catching up. Hanging out. That sort of thing.” He explained.

Tai regarded him like he was an autostereogram and the image just wasn’t quite clear yet. “Just her?”

“For now.” He replied vaguely, wisely changing topics before he could pry more. “What about you? How’s that leg doing?”

“I’m completely crippled, can’t you tell?” He placed a hand against his forehead like he might faint. “My afterlife is over!”

He rolled his eyes at the other’s theatrics. “Don’t oversell it buddy.”

“And waste my chance to annoy you? Never.”

The conversation stayed fairly light from there and once he started inquiring about the kids, there was really no stopping the other’s chattering. He didn’t mind because Tai was rather nice to listen to when he was speaking so passionately and it also didn’t require him to reply as much. Mostly, it gave him a chance to get his head together; he’d come all this way for a reason after all. He just needed the right moment to ask. The only problem was…

“And over here is my favorite spot!”

…the more excited Tai seemed to get, the less Qrow wanted to broach what was weighing on him.

He quickened his step to keep up as the other darted around the corner of the building. “Tai I – oh. Wow.”

“Right?” The other angel replied stepping underneath the porch that hung over the left side of the house.

He strode up next to him, finding it was an excellent spot to gander at the beautiful garden spread out before them. Stepping stones made natural, winding paths framed by bushes of roses, lilacs, hydrangeas, and rhododendrons all leading to the same center – a crystal clear pond decorated with waterlilies and sweetgrass. As they strolled along one of the paths, he took notice of the small trees speckled about the orchard and, while he didn’t know the names of most of them, the Japanese Maples with their cherry-red leaves were unmistakable. He stepped off the path to head towards a nearby cluster.

He knew them because they were the very same kinds of trees that stood outside his mother’s hospital room. When it was too hard to watch her dying in bed, he’d sit at the window to look at them instead. When her health really started failing, he spent more time at that spot than at her bedside.

One day, she asked him what he was staring at.

“Nothing.” He’d muttered. “Just these dumb trees.”

“What makes them dumb?”

He gestured expressively. “They’re red! Who puts red trees outside a hospital?”

Her chuckle was weak, like everything else about her these days. “I suppose it does seem a little odd. Do you know what those are?”

“I dunno, blood trees?” He guessed, slumping more in his seat.

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Now, now, don’t talk like that. It dishonors your ancestors. Especially when talking about those trees – they’re important to our heritage.” When he only grunted, she continued, “Now let me tell you something Q-”

“-Row? You fancy those ones?”

The memory faded to static.

Qrow looked from the grove to the man who had trailed him.

Tai tilted his head up, giving them a good gander. “They’re gorgeous, right?”

“Yeah,” He agreed slowly, walking the last few steps it took to stand in front of one. “Do you know what they are?”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “A maple of some kind, right?”

“Yeah. A Japanese Maple.” He rubbed one of the star-shaped leaves between his thumb and forefinger. “My mother told me a story about them once.”

“Oh? What about?”

“Well, there was this war that crippled Japan. Shortly after it, these trees were discovered. The Imperial Family immediately had their staff plant thousands of them across their royal capital, but no one knew the reason.” He started off hesitantly, but when Tai’s expression didn’t fall to disinterest, he continued more earnestly. “Rumors started going ‘round that the Family’s intention was to make these trees a symbol of royalty. The Emperor heard of this but did not speak of it until an entire year had passed. When it came time to address his people, he chastised them, saying that only the foolish would dare claim nature as his own. He then challenged his people to look at the trees and speak if they could answer this:” Qrow gestured grandly like he imagined the Emperor must have. “’For every day these trees had their leaves, on what day were they not red?’”

Completely engrossed by the tale, Tai’s tone had a hint of wonder as he asked, “What happened?”

“No one spoke. They all knew that day did not exist.” He answered. “In their silence, the Emperor’s voice seemed even more powerful than usual. He told them that all other trees were weak, because they could only hold that color for a few weeks before they fell. But these trees held enough strength to endure that color every day of the year – and if the Gods had bestowed such a tree to grow in their nation, then it was a sign that even during such trying times, every citizen born upon their great land had the ability to show that same level of endurance and strength.”

“Whoa.” Tai looked back at the trees, seeming to see them in a new light. “That’s amazing.”

“It’s one of my favorite stories.” Qrow told him, looking up as well into kaleidoscope of red hues, some bright as gemstones and some light as rust. Others dark as wine or pale like his eyes.

He could hear his mother’s voice whispering across his memory: “Anyone who looks at you will see in the color of your eyes that you hold the same endurance and strength in yourself. Just like I always have.”

He shut his eyes and took a steadying breath. Right. He could do this. “Tai, I needed to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

He felt his chest constrict uncomfortably as he faced him. “How different am I from the man you first met?”

Tai rose an eyebrow, looking befuddled. “Well. You’re less pointy.”

“No, not that! Before I got dragged into Hell.” Qrow said, feeling himself grow more insistent.

“Oh my god.” His eyes widened as realization hit. “You remember.”

“Yeah?” Qrow replied. What did that have to do with anything? “I remembered before going through the light. But that’s not-”

He was cut off when the other reached out, gripping his arms tightly. “I’m so sorry!”

“Uh, what?”

Tai either didn’t notice his confusion or was too caught up to realize it, words coming out in a rush, “I know there’s nothing I can really say to make up for losing you like that, but I really am sorry! And I understand if you’re too angry to accept that but-”

“Whoa, okay! Hold up a second!” Qrow covered his mouth before he could keep spilling out his guts. “I’m not mad about that!”

“Yo-You’re not?”

He supposed it wasn’t that farfetched to believe – but his life experience had taught him a long time ago that taking his anger out on others didn’t really fix anything. It just spread the hurt more. “Tai, four of them jumped you. What were you going to do?”

Tai backed off, jaw set so hard he worried his teeth would shatter. “That doesn’t matter. I let you down. My job was to get you home and I failed you.”

He looked to the left. Then to the right. Spread his arms wide. “Huh, looks like home to me.”

“That’s not-”

“Come on man, do you think I didn’t put two and two together? Why you kept conveniently showing up every time I got close to a lost soul? You were practically stalking me. Not that I can blame you, I mean have you seen me? I’m irresistible.” Qrow waved to himself, pleased when that finally got a weak laugh out of the other. He lowered his hand, meeting his eyes as he told him seriously, “You didn’t give up on me, even when I was acting my worst, and for that I owe you more than I can possibly give back.”

Tai’s smile was tentative. “Then you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You made all the big steps all on your own.”

The argument was on the tip of his tongue, about how he’d never have taken even one had the other angel not stepped in to begin with, but ultimately decided to let it go. They’d just run in circles at that point. “Whatever happened to that whole ‘forgive yourself and move on’ motto of yours?”

“I also told you that isn’t easy.” He reminded.

Qrow huffed. “Tch, yeah I got that.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?”

“Yes!” He shouted, wings opening as explosively as his mouth. To Tai’s credit, he didn’t even flinch back, even as he practically yelled in his face. “I thought if I came up here, things would be different! That I would be different! But nothing’s changed! I don’t get it! I’ve been punished. Put to death. Atoned! But I still feel wrong.” He turned away, folding his wings and crossing his arms as he glared at the roots of the maple tree. “I hate this… but I just don’t know what else I can do.”

A hand on his shoulder made him look up. Tai gave him a quietly considerate look and when he spoke, his voice was gentle. “Our situations aren’t the same, so I don’t know if my story will do any good, but I’d be happy to tell it to you if you feel it might.”

“…Alright.” It probably wouldn’t. But after three decades, he was willing to try anything.

He was also, maybe, a little curious.

“Follow me.” Tai led him to the center of the garden, sitting down on one of the flat rocks that circled the water.

He settled down on the one beside him, certain he knew what to expect as Tai plucked one of his feathers. However, he did not raise it to the light like before. Instead, he gripped the feather by the barb and touched the quill tip to the water, making slow, swirling motions. As the rings rippled across the lake, he spoke, accent growing more prominent as if the nostalgia brought it forth, “The town I grew up in wasn’t much. We had a chapel for prayin’. A saloon for drinkin’. Most people made their own living by rearing their own cattle and growing their own stock.”

Qrow watched as an image formed with the words, seeing the dusty town Tai was speaking of. There weren’t a lot of buildings, and what was there was mostly log cabin homes with a few farms off in the distances. Despite that, there was a lot of activity on the street. A horse was pulling a wagon through town. Two men were sitting outside the saloon, cheering each other. A few women were using washboards to clean clothes. It wasn’t until he spotted the chapel with it’s cross mounted properly instead of fallen to the side as it was now, that he knew he’d been here before. “This is where we took Oscar.”

He nodded. “Yeah, this be it. This was my home.” He pointed to one of the farm houses on the eastern side.

As if the gesture were a command, the picture zoomed in on it. Tai, probably no more than seven or eight, was hanging onto the railing, swinging his legs as he stared at the little girl who looked almost identical to Ruby. She was clinging to her mother’s raggedy dress, but she was staring at Tai just as intently. The men of the two families stood between their own, talking.

“I met Summer when I was just a boy. Her family had traveled far in hopes to find silver but the mines had been bled dry years ago. Her family was devastated and too weakened by their travel to go further. The townspeople pointed them our way. My father had always been a kind man, believing in helpin’ those in need, so he struck a deal. He asked for the family’s workin’ hands and in return he’d give them room and board. On this arrangement, our families prospered.”

The scenes started to shift, showing snapshot after snapshot of memory. The two kids laughing as they tried to balance eggs on their noses from the chicken coop. Leaping into the lake together. Racing each other through the field.

“It wasn’t long before Summer and I were the best of friends. We were also quite the rascals.” Tai chuckled as it showed the two of them in the saloon. His younger self, about ten now, betting on a poker game with ears of corn, much to the adults’ amusement. Summer sitting at the barstool, a dancer doing her hair up in a rose bun. “Soon, that all changed to sumthin more. I still remember the day I realized I was in love with her.”

Now a teenager, Tai stood outside saddling up a horse, when a noise caused him to turn around. His eyes grew wide as Summer came gliding over, the train of her dress following her. The shoulderless French-style gown was gorgeous, black as night with white roses festooned into the pleats. She had white gloves to match and a ribbon tied into a bow around her neck. She did a little spin, seeming to ask if he liked it. Tai stepped forward, taking off his hat and placing it against his chest. Whatever he told her made her laugh behind her hand.

“I was very smitten.” Tai’s gaze was distant. “It didn’t take our fathers long to realize what was happening. We were soon given their blessin’ and wed immediately after. Love was so rarely sought in those times, but I knew no woman could have made me happier than she did. That truth was no truer than the day she made me a father.”

Qrow snorted when the new image formed of the man holding his newborn daughter.

“What?” Tai asked him.

“You look terrible in a beard.” He told him.

“Oh can it!” He shoved him a bit before continuing his story. “Yang ended up being our only child. We tried for others, but it was hard to keep a child to term. I never felt like we were incomplete though. And even when nature took its course for our parents, and left only us three to maintain the farm, we were able to get by.” The trio were inside their home. Yang looked to be in her adolescence. She sat beside Tai, watching him intently as he showed her how to tie a hunter’s knot. Summer was in the kitchen, stirring something in a large pot. “But…”

Suddenly Summer started to cough, falling to her knees. Tai looked up, before hurrying to her side.

“Then we lost her. It happened so quickly, I felt like I’d hardly said goodbye before I was burying her.”

It was a little row of crosses made of sticks, nothing more. Five of them in all. Tai sat before the newest dug one, just staring like he couldn’t see anymore. Yang was crying.

Tai looked down at his past self, sighing softly. “I never thought myself a weak man before, but I feel losing her proved to me I didn’t have the fortitude I thought I did. I loved Summer very deeply, and when she left, it was like taking all that love and leaving nothing but an empty well.”  He lowered his head more, his chin almost touching his chest. “I can’t even say what I had in my mind the day I did it. Everything was just hurtin’ so much and I wanted it to stop. So. I made it stop.”

Qrow inhaled sharply as the picture formed of the blond man sitting alone in his house, staring blankly down at his revolver before he slowly rose it to his temple. Before the scene could finish, Tai smacked the water and it disappeared.

He let himself breathe again, glancing over at him.

Tai took a moment to gather himself, before finally facing him. “When you walked towards the light, you heard a voice. Whose was it?”

Taken a bit aback by the sudden shift of topics, it took him a moment to reply. “Uh, Raven’s.”

He nodded, as if this made perfect sense. “It’s the voice of the person you most want to see. You would think mine would be Summer’s…” His look was pained. “But I heard Yang’s. In that instant I knew what a mistake I had made – and the worst part was, I couldn’t take it back!” He chuckled bitterly. “Summer was furious. She wanted nothing to do with me. And who could blame her? I had left our daughter behind. No father should ever do that.”

Qrow felt the oddest sense of Déjà Vu as he struggled to find a way to dissolve the heavy atmosphere. Wasn’t the last time he had to do this by waterside as well? “Well, things seemed to be alright now?” He finally offered lamely.

“Yes, but it wasn’t always.” Tai ran a hand over his face, sighing loudly. “I felt like I lived with nothing but constant guilt. I agonized over what I had done and I even started to view my and Summer’s separation as just a punishment I deserved. And an angel in turmoil isn’t allowed on the human plane either, so I couldn’t even have the consolation of checking up on how Yang was doing!”

He swallowed uneasily. This was starting to sound a bit too familiar.

“I found no solace in it all until Yang finally passed on and visited me.” He went on. “I didn’t know what to say when I suddenly had her there, on my doorstep. I was ready for her to be angry. A part of me even wanted her to be. But before I could even utter her name, she was throwing her arms around me and telling me how much she missed me.” He looked down at his hands, probably recalling how he’d held her that day. “Heh, can you imagine that? I was prepared for her to throw anything at me… except that.”

Qrow bit at the edge of his tongue, wishing it could be that easy for him. “So that was it? You just felt better?”

“No, not even.” He shook his head. “I still felt all that shame just festering inside of me and it bled into everything I tried to do. Every time we were together, I felt nothing but wrongness. I thought I shouldn’t be allowed to be her father, because I’d choose to leave her. That I didn’t deserve much at all, if I’d forfeited my life. Some days I couldn’t even bare to see her. Can’t tell you how many times I canceled plans just ‘cause I was so miserable.”

Qrow turned away uncomfortably, thinking of his own mother he still refused to go visit. Of his sister’s many failed attempted to push the issue and her annoyance with him when he only resisted more.

Tai seemed too caught up to notice his shift in demeanor, raking an agitated hand through his hair, the memories seeming to being back his previous frustration. “It was no better with Summer. Even when we agreed we wouldn’t get back together, at times it seemed even just trying to be friends again was impossible. I had to of apologized about a thousand times. But,” He placed his hand over his heart, carrying on more lightly, “if I can be proud of anything, I can be proud of what a smart, capable woman my daughter had grown up to be. For she was the one who told me that I could ask for forgiveness from everyone all I wanted, but I would never gain peace if I didn’t forgive myself.” He met his gaze then, his eyes earnest as he told him, “It didn’t come quickly or easily. I’d had that way of thinking for so long, it was hard to let go of – sometimes I was even afraid I never could. But I kept trying, at first for her, so she could have the father she deserved. But eventually, it was for myself too.”

“How long did it take?” Qrow asked.

“Until the day I became a guiding angel.”

He calculated that quickly. Placed a hand against his forehead. “Shit.”

He saw the other’s reaching hand in his peripheral vision, but didn’t jerk back from the gentle touch that ran over his cheek.

“Qrow,” Tai’s soft voice sent shivers along his spine for more reasons than one. “I may not be able to tell you how long it will take for yourself, but I can tell you that you have the strength to do it.”

He faced him, retorting, “How can you say that when you don’t even know what I’ve done?”

“Because I’ve always believed in you.” He said, simple as that. He withdrew, adding, “But if you’d like to tell me, I’ll listen. It helps more than you think.”

Qrow looked down at the water, tossing the idea around. He’d avoided it this long, dancing around the topics he felt might give Tai too much reason to pry. But if he was right, and this could be a step to heal, then what did he really have to lose by trying?

This whatever it is going on between us. His traitorous conscious reminded.

His counterargument was worse. Well, then it’s better if he finds out now.

(As that thought finished, he realized maybe that whole ‘bleeds into everything’ bit had a lot of merit.)

He felt Tai’s eyes on him as he straightened up, reaching back to pull one of his own feathers. He lowered it, stirring the water with it as he begun, “When I was fourteen, my mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer. It took her pretty fast.” He felt a pang in his heart, seeing his younger self clinging onto his sister as they sat in the darkened hallway of the church. He remembered that – it had been just after his mom’s funeral service, paid for with what little savings she had. “We were fairly poor and any family we did have didn’t bother to reach out and claim us. So, the foster care program took us. Tried to find a home for us. We certainly didn’t make it easy; we’d been so angry and scared that we just couldn’t ‘behave’. I can’t tell you how many homes and schools I saw those first few months. No one wanted to take in a couple of kids who were more trouble then we were worth.”

The scene shifted to one that made his blood boil. He was sitting outside the caregiver’s office, his eyes widening as he overheard what she was saying before he was sprinting down the hall. “They eventually started talking about separating us. It had terrified us… and so we did something really stupid.” Raven was pulling open the window, and as she climbed up onto the sill, Qrow handed her a backpack. He had one of his own on his shoulders. “We ran.”

He smiled at the next one, seeing himself pulling a blanket up over himself and his sister. “We spent that first night sleeping under a park bench. We had all these grand ideas about how we’d make it on our own. We didn’t even have our high school degrees or a dime to our name, but back then we thought we’d just take on the world and it’d be fine.”

His smile fell, watching the same snapshot effect that happened with Tai’s story happen with his own as he spoke, “It wasn’t long before we got desperate. We started stealing out of grocery stores. Eating fruit right in the store or opening up boxes with prepackaged foods so the sensors wouldn’t trip. Sneaking into gyms to shower. Walking out of Goodwill wearing new clothes underneath our old ones. Eventually, the store managers started to recognize us. A few of ‘em even called the cops. We almost got caught a bunch of times. Sometimes, I kind of wish we had.”

“You two were rather resourceful.” Tai side-eyed him a moment, before focusing back on the water where he and his sister were hiding in the shadows of a fire escape as an officer went running down the alley below.

“In some ways.” Qrow agreed. “But we were in trouble. We couldn’t live like that forever. We knew we needed some sort of solid plan for the future. Some way to get money. That’s how we met Junior.” The picture of the man that formed was as clear in the water as it was in his mind. He still recalled his first thought about him was that he was way too well-dressed to be on their side of town. “He ran an underground gang. They supplied drugs, did petty theft, stuff like that. We knew it was crazy and really, really stupid, but we asked to join. We’d basically been doing something similar so, we figured it wouldn’t be much different.”

He swallowed down his own disgust, seeing the terrified woman staring down the barrel of his shotgun while Raven loaded cash in a bag.  “We mostly did the robberies – smoke shops, liquor stores, you name it. If it was a cheap shop that held too much cash in the register, we were hitting it. Junior tried to get us to sell drugs. Among,” His teeth nearly cracked as he saw one of the promiscuous leers their boss would give his sister, “other things. But the reason we liked holding places up was because it was the easiest way to sneak the money right under Junior’s nose. We would pocket a few twenties here, an occasional hundred there. He didn’t miss it because he never knew it existed. We kept telling each other we’d only stay until we had enough to get a place of our own, then we were out of there. But…”

The picture was ahead of his mouth. He felt shivers running down his spine at the sight of the red-head he and Raven were being cornered by. He’d never thought much about Adam Taurus until he was facing down the wrong end of the other’s Glock. “Junior had found out and sent someone to dispose of us. We… We tried to pay the guy off. All the money we had earned, we used it to bargain for our lives.” It shifted to their little closet-sized bedroom, Qrow pulling out the lockbox they had hidden in the wall. Beside it, was a pistol. “At least, we were pretending to. Raven was talking to him, trying to keep the focus on her so I could shoot him.”

He shut his eyes, unable to face what he knew was going to play out. He’d seen it enough in his nightmares. The way he’d pulled out the gun, aiming it at their captor.

“Just let us go!” He had said, his hands shaking.

“What are you doing? Shoot him!” Raven hissed.

“No one has to die, he just has to leave!” He told her, wishing she’d shut up. He could talk their way out of this, just like he did everything else.

Adam sighed loudly. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Qrow-!” Raven yelled as she spun on her heels towards him.

The report of the gunshot deafened him. His mind and vision went fuzzy. Dimly he wondered why his sister was falling to the ground, limbs akimbo like a broken doll. His arms jerked down, hands reflexively tightening as he cried out her name. The sound of his own gun going off was distant in his ears. The bullet buried its way into the hitman’s gut, throwing him to the ground. Adam’s second round, the one that likely would have killed Qrow, went wild into the ceiling, raining down dust.

“God…” Tai’s horrified gasp drew him back to the present.

His eyes opened and he looked down at the image of himself holding onto his sister’s limp body as he sobbed into her bloody hair. Qrow reached out towards himself, hand shaking as badly as it did back then, and smacked the water, watching it scatter away into nothing. “I-I guess you can see I failed pretty spectacularly. But I did something worse.” He couldn’t raise his head, so he just watched the goldfish swim as he told the rest of it. “Raven was the last thing I had and she was gone. Junior had taken her from me. I didn’t know what to do. The only thing I did know was that I was so, so angry.” His fingers tightened into fists. “I wanted to kill that motherfucker for what he did – I didn’t care what it took! So, I used the money to pay off one of his bodyguards. They looked away just long enough and I shot him right in the back of his head. The cops caught me a few days later. I was eighteen by then, so they tried me like an adult.”

He laughed hollowly. “Pre-meditated murder. First degree. Twenty-five years and then a final walk to Death Row. Didn’t even bother to plead anything but guilty. I walked out of that court room howling like it was the funniest thing, because by then I’d realized, it didn’t matter. Nothing did anymore.” He bit at his lip, feeling his stomach twisting into painful knots. “I had thought I’d feel vindicated. But I just felt empty. Killing Junior didn’t bring back Raven. It didn’t make me feel any less responsible. I was a murderer, and for what?!” He pressed his fist against his forehead, gritting out, “How can I ever make something like that right?”

He heard a soft rustling beside him and then a golden wing curved around him, just as it had on the lakeside. “You don’t.” Tai proclaimed. “You accept that you did something wrong and then you work at it from there.”

“How?!”

“I don’t know.” He admitted, sliding in closer. “But, I can say this was a good first step.”

With everything all mixed up in his mind right then, Qrow didn’t know how to feel about the fact the other didn’t seem the slightest bit repulsed. With it so cluttered, he also didn’t seem to have the power to resist leaning into the other’s comfort for a little while.

~

Qrow stirred at the distant sound of chatter and shrieking, blinking away his drowsiness as he stared up at the emerald sky. Wait, when had it become the afternoon?

A groan made him look at the person next to him, seeing how Tai’s expression pinched before he peeked open one eye. “Guess it’s lunchtime.”

He stared at him, then looked about, disoriented. They were still by the pond, but sprawled out along the grass beside it. He didn’t recall moving though. He didn’t recall much at all after he’d finished his story. “Uh… what happened?”

“Sorry.” Tai said around a yawn. “I shoulda warned ya showing me anything would zap your energy something fierce.”

He absorbed that fact, feeling a slight sting as he wondered how long it took Tai to return home that day from Hecate’s Lake. “So, we slept on the ground?”

“Sorta.” He drawled, looking down pointedly.

Qrow followed his gaze, then sat up quickly as he realized his body was pinning down the other’s wing. He was going to be feeling that for the day. “Uh, sorry.”

Tai just shrugged it off, sitting up as well. He stretched out his wings before folding them against his back. “I woulda got you inside but, you were fading pretty fast and you’re a mite bit heavier than I can carry.”

“What a shame. Guess you won’t be sweeping me off my feet anytime soon then. What ever shall I do?” He said, playing up his distress.

“And you say I oversell it.” He replied as he got to his feet.

Qrow took the hand offered to him. He stretched as well, inclining his head towards the source of the noise. It was drawing nearer. “I should probably get going.”

“Or you could stay.”

He arched a brow questioningly.

Tai grinned, running a hand over his neck as he tried to hide his fluster. “I mean, there’s always room for more. And I’m sure Ruby and Oscar would be ecstatic.”

It was really hard to say no. “I have… a prior engagement. Promised my sis I’d be back by now.” It was even harder to see the other droop with disappointment, so he quickly added, “But, another time?”

“Alright, but I’m holding ya to that.” He told him, nodding towards the front yard. “I’ll walk you to the gate.”

They took the long way around the garden to get there, but it still felt too quick by the time they were stepping past the iron-wrought doors. They hesitated just outside of them.

Tai shifted a bit on his feet, speaking first, “It was nice seeing you again.”

About half a dozen cocky responses leapt into his brain at once. What ended up slipping out was much more genuine, “Yeah. Same here.” Feeling his face heating up, Qrow quickly turned away, clearing his throat. “And uh, thanks. For everything.”

“Hmmm.”

That wasn’t the response he expected. “What?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He said, rubbing his chin. “I’m just trying to figure out the score. I mean, I still owe you a thanks for helping me on the last mission.”

His meaning took a moment to click, but when he got it, Qrow chuckled. “Oh, is that all? I have a solution for that.” He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the other’s neck. “We’ll share it.”

“Oh.” The other angel murmured as understanding sunk in. His strong hands curved around Qrow’s bony hips. “I can do that.”

A giddy feeling jump-started his heart, so unexpectedly good after so much bad, it couldn’t help but bubble out in another soft laugh. Qrow lent forward.

Tai met him halfway.

[thong-in-the-twist]

Persona (non) grata

Summary: oldie but goldie - police&criminal!AU

You’ve learnt not to talk about certain things at a pretty young age. You didn’t understand that back then. Children don’t understand why they are not allowed to say some things. They take the censorship at the face value – it’s just another thing that parents impose on you, like wearing pants and washing your teeth. Another stupid rule to make your life a little more boring. To make you more like them.

But then you’ve learnt that you are one of those few whose censorship is stronger than the rest.

Take the simple question: what your parents do? It’s an easy question, that is being asked a lot at a certain age. It’s greeted with smiles and proud answers, and follow-up questions whether you want to be like your mom, your dad, your whoever.

Your answer was usually greeted with small oh and awkward stares. If you were lucky.

If you weren’t, it resulted with parents forbidding their kids to play with you.

That’s what you get when your parents are criminals.

They weren’t bad parents. You were fed, and loved, and clothed, and scolded, and raised – but the money supporting the family came from various sources, none of them totally white, totally legal.

Up till the end of the primary school you even had a permanent place of residence, your parents, though shady, part of the community.

Until the big job came around, and with it big money, and pretty nice wanted poster, which your parents still keep as a weird family photo. They were proud.

They were loaded and proud, and you were loaded and lonely. Except for constant police surveillance. As if you parents were stupid enough to appear in front of you. They left you with squeaky clean laundered money, and arrays of house ladies to cook, to clean, maybe even to raise you.

But you didn’t go around answering questions like: who are your parents? Why they never come to see you?

*

You met him for the first time in front of the building of your high school. Half of the kids came with their proud parents, and you passed them indifferently. Even if one day you felt a pang at that, it wasn’t there anymore. And your mom called you in the morning to wish you good luck on the secured line.

You weren’t dysfunctional family – just – different.

And there the boy was, all smiley and happy, kind of embarrassed to be driven to school by the parents, waving them away. His father patted him on the back, mother kissed his cheek – looking smart and professional in her fitted suit. She sported high ponytail, that made you kind of want to replicate that.

Your eyes locked with boy’s father as you were passing them, and you bowed politely, and he narrowed his eyes at you, while mother squeezed her son’s shoulder. The boy himself spotted the sudden interest of his parents behind him, and he turned around to look at you.

You winked at him, earning yourself an uncomfortable cough from the cop that used to be part of your surveillance team, and detective that is probably still on the force trying to catch your parents (as soon as they are back from the non-extradition country that are currently at).

*

The boy takes to eyeing you. In the beginning you only met on corridors, since you were in a different classes, but every time you saw him, he was looking at you with a curiosity chiseled into his futures – soon enough everyone believed he had a crush on you.

But you knew better.

Either he didn’t know why would you greet his parents, and he was dying to find out, or he knew and he saw you like this curious specimen, the abandoned child of thieves.

This changed in the second year, because you ended up in the same classroom. It took him three days, before he was sliding on the chair in front of you during a break, chin resting on the backrest. He looked at you until you looked up.

“Yeah?” You asked, trying to sound as withdrawn as possible. He narrowed his eyes at you, but then he smiled, relaxing his face.

“So… What’s the deal with you?”

*

You didn’t answer back then, and you didn’t answer hundred questions that came after the first one. And he kept trying. He kept pestering you day after day, week after week, month after month, apparently deaf to all the kids’ teases about his helpless crush.

And boy, was he persistent.

You told your mom about him, and she laughed and laughed, and then called your father to say how hilarious it would be if their son-in-law was son of the cops.

You didn’t join in with the laughter.

*

He stopped pestering you in the third year. After vacations he came back taller, way taller than you remembered him, and his face lost most of his childish appeal – making way for sharp angles and pronounced bones.

His eyelashes were always dark and nice, but suddenly they started catching your interest.

But he no longer came to slide on the seat in front of you, or next to you, whichever was empty to ask you who you were. Now he was sitting down at his own desk, with open book, studying as hard as he could. It wasn’t weird – he wasn’t the only one to do that, you were seniors after all.

You didn’t make much out of it – you weren’t that keen on studying, that’s the only thing your parents couldn’t force you to do. They were making more money stealing than 90% of university graduates.

So while your classmates were studying you found a new group to hang out with. With fake id in your hand you were learning the hedonistic ways of life. Clubs, karaoke bars, even your own house. All was the place for debauchery.

But you quietly attended your classes, more to make sure that they didn’t have a reason to call for your parents (because it would be a hell to pay for you if they did) than to receive the education. You had to suffer through countless consultations about your future, what you should study, where you should study. It took one outburst of my parents are criminals, no need for me to study for your teachers to never take you on one of those again.

Somewhere in the middle of the year you overheard your room teacher talking to your math teacher about how curious the life is. To have in one class the kids of both cops and criminals, with both of them wanting to follow in their parent’s footsteps.

That’s how you learnt that Haein was studying to become a cop.

*

His parents came to the graduation. Yours didn’t. You greeted them just like you did back on the first day of high school, and Haein looked at you, old curiosity sparked anew. His parents were as taken aback as they were those three years before, but even you couldn’t spoil their day.

After taking pictures with parents and friends he ran after you. He asked for a photo, and it was a first time he asked you something different than what’s your deal, so you said yes. You smiled and raised victory sign to your face as you looked into his camera.

He smiled brightly, head tipped to your side, took picture and thanked you afterwards.

*

You saw him again two years later, while out in the club. The night wasn’t any different from those countless before. You didn’t know why he happened to be in this club, but at the same you didn’t know why you were in this particular club either. It seems like things like that just happen.

You saw him, or rather he saw you, when you pushed in next to him at the bar, laughing with a random guy you met a moment before.

You waved the bartender and turned to the guy, when you heard your name spoken with a note of doubt. You turned around to face the caller, Haein, whose face lit up when he saw you.

You did the talk. How are you, how is life, what have you been doing? Your answers were short and brisk, but it didn’t put him off. It seemed like he genuinely wanted to know how you were.

You learned that police academy was coming along quite well.

Your dancing partner for the night ordered shots, and forced one into your hand. You took it as a rescue it was. You downed it, and threw a short see you around, and drugged the guy back to the dance floor.

*

Next time you saw him it was a rather awkward meeting.

Your car was hit by another car, while Haein was out on his patrol, and he happened to see it – so he forced the driver to wait for the owner of damaged car (you), since it seemed to be really luxurious. Because it was.

Nearly five years passed since you graduated high school, but neither of you changed. His face lit up when he saw you, and the sheer wonder at your car made you uncomfortable. Maybe it wasn’t best money could buy, but it was pretty close.

It’s been really long since your parents’ money started making money. At the same time your money, were making money as well, all in legal investments. You were managing the legal part of your parents’ empire – not being allowed to touch anything that wasn’t perfectly legal or squeaky clean.

You settled with the other driver quickly, and he drove away as soon as he can, leaving you with Haein. He looked like a model citizen in his uniform, reminding you of boy scout. He eyed your car long enough for you to grow uncomfortable.

“I know it’s been years…” He said suddenly, turning to you while you drank vending machine coffee on the street, leaning against street railing. “But seriously, what’s the deal with you?”

You shrugged, not answering, and you downed your coffee, ready to hit the road.

*

You father slipped. It was bound to happen, sooner or later, and you were surprised it lasted so long. Most of the empire came tumbling down, your mother fleeing on her own, but you didn’t worry. Not much anyway. Your mother would be fine, settling in a new place, forming her new kingdom, your investments were safe, and your father… At least you knew that for the first time in years you’d be able to see him anytime you wanted.

In prison, after a fair trial. Obviously. He joked that it was his retirement.

But he could still be acquitted. Things like that did happen too.

But you got called in for questioning. It was something you couldn’t just skip and even if you considered it unnecessary hassle, and you still had to go.

You were prepped half of your life for this to happen, so you didn’t flinch when they led you to interrogation room. You sat at the table on the uncomfortable chair, not having to try to look bored. You were bored.

And you knew that they were trying to shake you up by leaving you alone for prolonged period of time – probably looking at you though the mirror.

When the door finally opened and detective came in, you were in for a surprise. Or maybe you expected that?

Haein looked a little shaken, and though his face did not lit up, his eyes looked as if they did. He sat down in front of you, his eyes snapping to the mirror, and it made you wonder whether his mother was behind the glass. After all her team was the one to catch your father in the end.

Which made you wonder where in the force was Haein’s father right now.

“Congrats on your promotion.” You said, and he looked up surprised, and he smiled a little, before he schooled himself realizing he shouldn’t have done that.

“Well, thank you. I would like to ask some questions, if you wouldn’t mind?” He said, trying to be serious, and you smiled.

“Ask away, but you do know, since, well, we’ve known each other for quite a long time, that while I don’t mind you asking, I am not about to answer anything.” Haein snickered a little, his eyes jumping to the mirror, as if checking if people behind it saw him lose control.

After that he was all professional. Asking questions, one by one, and you refused to answer every single one of them. It was a dreary and dull process, but finally you were done.

“Well, at least now, I know what was the deal with you.” He said as he walked you out. You said nothing, but at the main entrance you stopped, and asked the very first question of your own.

“Was my family a frequent guest in your family’s dinner discussions?” Haein smiled apologetically.

“Yeah.”

*

Courtroom is filled to the brim. Reporters, reporters and reporters, with miscellaneous crowd thrown in the mix, they are all here to see your father, and usually – to see the justice be served.  

Your father looks old. Older. And tired. Way more tired than when you saw him for the last time. Was it junior high? High school? You don’t remember really. You exchanged photos, and they did contact you on a weekly basis, but to see him in real life – that was first in ages.

And people gawked at you as well. The daughter of the criminal. Filthy rich daughter of the criminal, still walking free, but probably she’s next in line. How bold of her to come here. How bold of her to be in this sacred place, where the justice will be served.

You’d like to say that it bothered you. That you feel the modicum of shame. The truth is – you don’t. You are not ashamed of your father. You are not ashamed of being in the courtroom.

To see the justice be done.

Although you are not sure that it will be done.

Police with prosecutors froze your father’s assets. But they didn’t froze neither yours nor your mothers (and it’s not like they found all of your father’s accounts anyway). So your family, in the world where money is power, wasn’t powerless.

Of course he had the best lawyer. Not in town, no. Your mother flew him into the country, to ensure that your father would be back with her in less than a year.

And you came to see if it was possible.

You notice Haein sitting in the first row, probably to serve as a witness.

Sure enough somewhere in the middle of the pre-trial, he is called to the witness stand, and your father sends you a surprised glance. You shrug, even though you are surprised that he remembered about the boy that used to pester you in high school.

*

Haein catches up with you after the trial. You don’t greet him, but you allow him to fall in step with you.

“You saw your father.” He says, hands in his pockets.

He looks nice in the formal uniform. Better. Taller. More responsible. You still remember him in the fluorescent traffic vest.

“I did.” You answer, moving your bag to your other arm. You have no idea why, but you didn’t like it being between the two of you.

As if he could steal something from you.

“You’ll be able to see him more often now, I guess.” If it wasn’t Haein, smiley, clueless Haein, you’d consider the sentence offending. You’d stop, and you’d put on your sassy attitude to put down the person trying to undercut you.

“I will enjoy it, while it lasts.” You say, because that is what you plan to do. His hand suddenly grabs your arm and he jerks you to stop.

“What does it mean?” He asks. You are taken aback, and you brush away his hand, and he seems embarrassed when his hand drops to his side.

“It means that you are not going to put him away, Haein.”

*

You stop going to see your father trial after the third day. It’s a sad play really.

They try, oh boy, do they try. Evidence after evidence, expert after expert, witness after witness, and the lawyer throws them out one after another. It’s methodical, meticulous, and really, sad to watch. The frustration in the court is palpable, judge pleading the prosecutor to bring something undefeatable. Reporters ceasing stopping with their stories, because of the unsatisfying plotline.

It’s never fun when the bad guys win.

Money. There is nothing more powerful than money.

You are being cynical, but it’s hard not to in the world that you found yourself in.

*

Haein comes to you. It’s surprising, really. You don’t remember if he ever reached out to you on his own. He usually came to you when you were in the vicinity anyway.

But you don’t show how surprised you feel, when you assistant leads him into your office. Office which looks like CEO’s office.

Because that’s who you are.

“Haein.” You greet him, as you never did, and his eyes snap to you, and he nods. He looks like detective, but it shouldn’t be surprising – he is one.

You sit in the armchair, and he sits on the couch. He says yes to proposed coffee, and you sit in silence waiting for your assistant. He looks out of the window in the meantime, clearly impressed with the view.

You look at Haein.

He is fidgety. Not like him. He doesn’t want to be here. Or he doesn’t want to say what he is about to.

Coffee comes, and he finally looks at you.

“Did your mother send you?” You ask before he gathers himself enough to speak. He blinks and takes a sip of your coffee. Your own blend.

You take the cup in your hand, but you don’t drink. You warm your hands.

“Yeah.” He says, when he realizes that you are not going to let him avoid the topic.

“To talk me into testifying against my father?” You pose it as a question, but it is a statement.

“Yes.” He answers after a moment of silence. His voice is quiet, when he does it.

You exhale, you put the cup down on the saucer  and you stand up, Haein looking after you as you walk through your office.

“Does she know that we are in no relationship, that would justify this kind of plea?” You ask, rhetorically, and you stop at the doors, opening them for him.

He looks taken aback and shaken, and you don’t understand that. What did he expect after coming to ask to snitch on your father. He gathers himself and stands up.

“I think she realizes that I’m open to the idea.”He says, as he walks to you.”Maybe it’s her way of punishing me for that.”

He walks out, and turns on his heel.

“Goodbye, Haein.” You say flatly, closing the doors, not addressing the confession you just received.

*

Come to think of it, it’s not surprising. Not surprising at all. You should have expected it sooner. Maybe even back in high school.

Maybe he had a crush on you back then, and he tried to get over it after you graduated – but you were constantly appearing in his life. For a moment, with long periods of not existing in his life, but often enough to throw him of his track.

Or maybe that was his trick to somehow force you into testifying against your father.

Which would be really futile.

It isn’t only about you two being family, and you being loyal – you actually know nothing about the crime he committed. It happened years ago, before you went to junior high, and the statue of limitations is only few years from now. You know nothing.

But it’s still inappropriate for him to even consider asking.

*

To national outrage, your father goes free. For the first time in years, he can freely walk on the land that belongs to your country.

At least until they find some new evidence. Or he commits another crime and gets caught. Which is unlikely at this point.

In his own words, which he utters to you before flying back to reunite with your mother, he won’t do anything that would jeopardize him walking you down the aisle during your wedding.

Which would be lovely, if he didn’t ask about Haein back there.

You don’t know. You saw him briefly during the last day of the trial, looking pale while sitting next to his fuming mother.

He still looked dashingly handsome.

*

It’s weird how easy it is to fall back and live your life the way one used to.

Except is not.

Haein’s confession wasn’t explicit or romantic in any way, but it is all that occupies your mind, when you go out clubbing, when you went go out on dates, when you work, when you shop, when you rest.

It’s there. Constant maddening reminder of… What exactly?

A person that sees you in you, despite coming from different family.

Or so you explain to yourself.

But you don’t seek him out. You are in no position to do so, and your pride wouldn’t allow you to do so. And now, with nearly two decades of you living on your own, having a company is not high on your list of priorities. It seems more like a choir.

Your parents take on asking about Haein with every call. They are still using the secure line, your father got away with not-murder, but no one is about to push your luck to check whether your mother could repeat the trick.

It’s like high school all over again, with your parents being as persistent as Haein once was.

*

Another criminal was caught. Embezzling money, bribes, black market. One arrest shook the world of others like him.

He is a businessman. Owner of his own company.

Company that you used to deal with – sometimes.

The moment you see the news, you call your legal department to leave some special instructions – because search and seize warrant is a possibility.

But you are a gambler, and you are quite sure, it’s not going to happen.

Haein comes. With few police officers and another detective. Your assistant leads them in, except for the officers – no reason for you to entertain the pawns. You are drinking coffee when they enter, already sitting in the armchair, and you refuse to stand up to greet them.

Not when they arrive hostile.

“I’m willing to cooperate.” You say, putting the cup on the saucer. Haein and the other detective exchange glances. The stranger looks wary, but Haein, smiley, clueless Haein doesn’t.

He smiles, and comes to sit down on the couch, asking if he could get a cup of the amazing coffee he had here last time. The stranger approaches slowly, as if not understanding what was happening.

You call for your assistant and you decide for the other detective and you get two coffees for them.

This time you exchange empty pleasantries with them, while waiting for their coffees.

You allow them to take a sip of the beverage, before you speak up.

“How can I help you?”

The other detective sputters, and he immediately puts his coffee down, while Haein seems to enjoy it.

“Ma’am…” Starts the stranger, but you don’t really want to listen to him.

“Before you say anything, I want you to understand, that, by default, I am quite distrustful of the police force. Which I hope is not surprising.” You say, Haein seems thoughtful as he analyses your words. The other one seems just taken aback.

But before he says anything, Haein turns to him slowly, and subtly shows him the doors.

Even if the detective feels insulted, he doesn’t show that.

“So…” Prompts Haein, after the doors behind the spare one closes.

“I prepared all the documentation regarding my company’s dealings with the defendant.” You say, fixing yourself in the armchair, your body turning more to Haein.

He blinks, once, twice, and then smiles.

“How about preparing the documentation regarding your dealing with feelings for me?”

You blink, once, twice, and then you laugh.

*

You kissed him right there, back then. The thing itself wasn’t new. You kissed and fucked fair share of men in your life, and the basics felt pretty similar.

But having Haein be the one to stare at you, when you pulled away, forehead against forehead – that was new and exciting.

Soon enough information is out that you and your company is clear, nothing illegal in your documents. You know that, and you knew that before – because you stayed clear of anything illegal in your life.

Except for your parents and their money.

But what was yours in paper? It was legal.

*

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Whispers Haein, and you ignore him, like you used to do so many times back in high school.

However, for the first time in your life, you probably should acknowledge him. But with all your respect (or lack of thereof ) to armed forces there are things that you always wanted to do.

And detective boyfriend is your… Permit.

“Really not a good idea.” He whispers, looking around his shoulder.

“The more you talk the longer it takes.” You whisper back sternly, and he turns back to stare at you, and you stare back at him. It last long enough for him to deflate a little, obviously realizing that you are not going to change your mind.

But when he rolls his eyes you can see the shadow of a smile on his lips.

“Ok, let’s get on with it.”

As if he’d really be able to say no to you sucking him off in a cell.

*

“Are you into roleplay?”

That is not an appropriate question to be asked in your office, so you look up from your computer screen. You are sitting at your desk, and Haein is sprawled on one of your couches with cup of coffee in front of him. His notebook and pen are laying on the coffee table, and there is also an open file, but you refuse to look at it.

Haein’s head is resting on the backrest, and he looks at you quite thoughtful. You don’t answer, trying to show him that it’s not a question to ask in your office.

His head rolls back, and he looks at the ceiling.

“I guess you are.” He mumbles, and you raise your eyebrows. You say nothing focusing back on your work. “You did get me off in the cell.”

“That doesn’t mean that I’m into roleplay though.” You say dismissively.

“Yeah.” He agrees. In the silence that follows you manage to write an email, and you nearly forget about the topic, when he follows: “that would be awesome, though.”

“Oh, really?” You ask, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“Yeah.” He says, and his eyes are sparkling, a smile tugging at his lips. “Cause I thought about officially introducing you to my parents, and that would require us playing role of upstanding citizens.”

Through the mirage of emotions, the most baffling one is your appreciation of him using the pronoun “us.

*

“Are your parents flying in?” It turns out Haein likes to ask you questions when you are in no mood to answer them. It was true years ago, and it’s true now.

You turn the page in your book.

“Well, my father is flying in.” You answer. Which should be obvious – it’s not like you are going to walk yourself down the aisle. Haein, smiley, not so clueless anymore, Haein, grabs your hand and kisses the engagement ring. You know that his way to show that he understood what you tried to imply.

“Is your mother flying in?”

Your mother is flying in. She would never skip your wedding, that’s for sure. But the thing is, with half of Haein’s department, and half of yours city police invited, it’s not like she is going to be sitting at one of the tables at the reception.

But you’ve worked it out. Your family has means to do weird shit.

“Nooo…” You say, and you actually look up from your book. Haein laughs at you.

“Oh my god, you used to be a better liar.” You close the book on your thumb, and you hit him with it.

“Well, I’m not going to tell you that!” You say indignantly.

“C’mon, that’s unfair!” He says, but to be sure he grabs the book out of your hand and puts it away. You are not happy with that, since you don’t know the page, but then he is hugging you, and bring you close, and you hit his arm, annoyed. “I want your mother to be there! She is going to be my mother-in-law!”

“I am pretty sure that your mother wants her at our wedding just as much.”

Haein doesn’t have to consider that even for a moment.

You both know that is one hundred percent true.

*

“One, two, three, and… smile!” You smile, but as soon as the photo is taken, you look to the side annoyed. Your father shrugs apologetically.

You had no idea that your family is so big!

And that half of them are criminals just like your parents (which horrified Haein informed you about, as soon as they started gathering). It is going to be one hell of a wedding, really. One half of the wedding hall filled with cops, the other with not-so-upstanding-citizens.

Haein’s head appears in the doors, and he pauses for a second when he sees you. He saw you in the wedding dress few times already, but the pure admiration does wonders on your ego.

He came to tell, that it’s about to start.

Well, sure as hell it won’t start without you, but you nod, feeling the adrenaline strike. Haein doesn’t go immediately, opting to stay a second longer, biting his lip, and you smile at him, brightly, feeling how happiness bubbles in your gut, and you wave him away.

In like half an hour he is going to be yours.

Your father offers you his arm, and you look at him in need of reassurance.

He pats your hand on his arm, and together you leave the room you’ve been confined in for the last few hours, and you walk together down the empty corridor. You need to stop yourself from fidgeting on your heels, but it’s really exciting and nerve-wracking to be standing in front of the double winged doors, knowing that there is Haein waiting for you at the end of the aisle on the other side.

The moment you the doors open, you realize that you were right about having one hell of a wedding.

Your mother decided to just show up. Wanted criminal sitting at the close family places, just next to the aisle, across from Haein’s mother. The top detective trying to catch your mother.

But the music is playing, and you go down the aisle, with your father at your side, and Haein looking at you with eyes bright, and broad smile, and that’s all you wanted to see.

Although you can still see your mother waving smugly to Haein’s mother and you realize that it’s not going to be good.

*

Hell breaks loose after the vows. The moment the rings are on, and Haein and you (now husband and wife) kiss, Haein’s parents stand up – probably to clap, but that alarms your mother and she bolts upright and runs out of the building.

Immediately half of the Haein’s part of the wedding hall jumps to their feet to go after her, to what your own family reacts by standing up to stop them.

In seconds you and Haein are left alone in the wedding hall. He is still holding you, and your hands are still on his nape as you look at all the empty space. You can hear people shouting outside, and you can here running and cars, and police sirens, and that is just ridiculous.

You turn your head to look at Haein, and he was just waiting for that.

He kisses you, slow and deep, tongue sliding along your teeth, lips pressing hard against yours.

“It’s been years since I asked that, but seeing what happened here…” He says when you finally part, and you realize that you no longer care what happened with your family (and Haein’s). From this point onwards, you two are the family. “What is the deal with you and your family?”