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forever--darling · 4 years

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the frat boy’s boxers - s.m.

college frat au

warnings: 5.7k words of new beginnings, first day jitters, and the meeting of the roommate

prologue

It was late, dark, and the sun was no longer looming over campus. Your pulse quickened and your palms were dripping in sweat as you stared up at the three story house. The window was left cracked open and you watched as the breeze swayed the white curtains from side to side. This was insane and beyond anything you had ever done but you knew it was unavoidable. If you wanted to get into Alpha Delta Pi, it had to be done.

You could feel the lingering eyes of the sorority girls as they crouched behind a line of bushes and internally cursed. Emily had to set up a car wash by herself, Maggie had to teepee another sorority house, and those both sounded better than this; standing in front of frat boy central, forced to steal sophomore and hockey player Shawn Mendes’ boxers.

2 weeks ago

As you drove down the winding road, you couldn’t help but come to a stop in front of the entrance. The large stone sign stood proudly for all to see as they drove by and into the start of the next chapter of their lives. Tan bricks and copper letters stuck out from the sign marked the beginning of everything. In your packed black Volkswagen golf, you twisted your neck down as you stared out the window towards the sign. You blinked at it, hardly believing it was real and with a small uneven breath, you pushed your foot back on the gas and surged forward. Within seconds, you were back driving on the road, hands tightly around the steering wheel as your eyes scanned the newfound area.

Two years ago, no one ever expected that you would venture more than a few miles away from your house. That you would settle into the local university because that’s what your parents wanted. Or more specifically what your mom wanted. No one ever thought after what happened in the winter of 2016, you would have left your hometown in exchange for another state entirely. It was two years of being locked away in your house with little access to anywhere except school or your bedroom, and you had quickly gotten sick of its light yellow walls.

Your junior and senior year were spent bent over your homework and college prepping. You were doing anything to get you as far away from that place you used to call home. You needed to get away for a while, from your overprotective and over loving parents and your twenty-four-year old sister who had moved back home.

You used to love high school. With so many friends and guys wanting your attention, it was a fun two years then somehow the other two went down the drain by the two people who procreated you. Junior and senior you worked your ass off and above all else, obeyed your parents and clearly it paid off when you finished third in your class. You obeyed your parents, so it came much of a surprise when you told your family that instead of the local university that only stood ten minutes away, you would be attending the University of Washington.

It came to quite a shock, not only was the college in another state but on the other side of the country. Thousands of miles away from the only place you had ever known. It became even worse when you had packed up your car and refused to let your parents drive you. They were so shocked and so heartbroken that they barely were able to protest when you gave them a faint goodbye, long bone crushing hugs, and pulled out of the driveway.

Maybe, they were so certain that you relied on them and that town so much that you would never leave their sides. Or maybe they felt like they didn’t need a large goodbye and that you would be back in their arms within months of being away. That the thought of being alone in a foreign place would send your anxiety through the roof and ultimately drive you back home after what happened when you were just sixteen.

You had thought about the incident plenty of times. It was what changed your family and ultimately broke it. It was that very terrifying memory that drove the scary thoughts that you would be back in that small town in records time. And throughout the whole drive that took days to get to your destination, the reality hadn’t set in until you saw that sign. It was then as you stared at the letters, that you knew that if you didn’t want to run then, you weren’t going to want to run back home maybe ever.

Some time between graduation and driving onto campus, things changed in you. You felt like you when you were sixteen again except this time more free. Changing that obedient student who stayed in on the weekends to study for tests weeks in advance, to someone who wanted to go out and do all of the things she missed out on. She became someone that wanted to be the one who went out with friends and got drunk at parties on the weekends.

She wanted to be the girl that went on dates with random college guys on campus. She wanted to sleep with a boy and then kick him out of her dorm room the next morning. Somewhere between being eighteen to nineteen, the old you resurfaced. Like your parents weren’t there, trying to hide the world from you anymore. You were now a young adult who was capable of taking care of herself. In fact you were a college student who had no intentions of returning home to just sit back in that sad house and stare at those walls all day, separating you from the world that you had yet to know anything about.

Now here you were no longer dressed in those baggy grey sweatpants and holey oversized hoodies, face bare, with your hair pulled out of your face. Instead, hair flowing freely down your back, makeup gracing across your features as you wore a pair of tight fitted blue jeans with a white long sleeve t-shirt and a red flannel. Bunny slippers left lazily behind in the closet that was filled with your brother’s t-shirts and cozy socks. In their place was a pair of white converse laced tightly against your feet providing comfort and style. This was who you were at the moment and you couldn’t wait to go and have some fun.

As you were pulling into a parking lot near the hall that supposedly housed your dorm, you had caught a glimpse out of your window at the quad. A vast green area filled with small paths and large cherry blossom trees. They scattered the lawn providing shade and comfort away from the raging halls and campus parties. There was a part of you that wanted to just pull the car over and run to get a better look at the area, but knew that you had other things to do like eat and unpack. Maybe sleep. You had been in this car for far too long and now that you were here, there would be plenty of time to explore later.

Pulling the car into an empty parking spot, you turned it off and took the keys from the ignition, stuffing them into the pocket of your jeans. You opened the door and climbed out, stretching your arms over your head as you did so. Looking around, you could only see a few students hugging their parents goodbye all having tears in their eyes or traveling down their faces. You knew if you had successfully found the main hall to ask someone about where the keys to your dorm and schedule were that you would no doubt see the same thing but to a higher level.

You could have easily stopped and asked the many students that had been walking around the campus, especially the ones that were dressed in purple school tee shirts, bright smiles pulled across their faces about where to go. But for some unknown reason, you kept driving towards Parker Hall, thinking that your roommate was probably already settled into your sharing room and could just escort you to get your keys and your schedule. It was the best idea you had at the time since you were a freshman and didn’t know where anything was. Also considering, you were there without your parents, your roommate was the only option you thought you had at the moment.

You convinced yourself so much that you wandered into the building and up the stairs already gaining a sniff of the musty hallways that were coated in white paint. Your eyes scanned the hall that seemed to be empty with doors closed and already decorated with pictures and names of the girls that resided with them. Suddenly at the sound of a small hiss, your eyes directed towards the end of the hall and felt relieved at the sight of one door open on the end where a blonde girl was struggling to pull in a large mattress. Were we supposed to bring our own mattresses? You thought to yourself as you approached the girl trying to wipe off the confused and slightly frustrated look on your face.

“Need some help?” you asked, your voice gaining the attention of the girl.

Her head lifted revealing her smooth pale skin and large green doe eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight ponytail at the top of her head, curling at the end. She was around the same height as you dressed in a pastel pink sweater with a white collar and a pair of jeans to go with her squeaky clean white sneakers. Realizing you were talking to her, she nodded with a soft smile as you proceeded forward and grabbed the other end of the mattress. You began to push as she pulled, already feeling the mattress slowly shift forward through the door.

“Were we supposed to bring our own mattresses or something?” you asked, glancing at the stainless plush padding in your hand as your grip on the corner tightened, feeling your nails sink into it.

“No,” the girl replied, yanking at the mattress as her cheeks puffed out in discontent, “I just prefer it more than the ones they provide.”

“So, is there a reason you are trying to pull it into your room by yourself then?”

“Oh, yeah well I told my mom that I could handle it so she left and as soon as my roommate laid eyes on it she stormed out of the room,” she explained as the mattress moved forward about halfway into the room. “I’m Emily, by the way. Emily Willard.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you chuckled at her attempts to make introductions now of all times.

After that, silence consumed the both of you besides the casual grunt or hiss as your muscles burned from pushing and lifting at the mattress. Minutes later, you had managed to get it all the way into the small quaint room and nestled into the wooden bed-frame that sat up against the wall of the room. It was opposite of the other bed that was already made and full of decorative pillows. You let out a loud sigh after the mattress fell into its place onto the frame and ran your fingers through your hair, feeling the small beads of sweat that had gathered at your hairline.

“Thank you,” Emily smiled while bending over and holding onto her knees.

“Yeah, no problem,” you laughed, smiling back at the blonde.

As another minute passed, she finally stood back up seeming to have recovered from the lifting. She began to put a few boxes onto the mattress as she made conversation, “So have you gotten moved in yet?”

“Actually, no.” you admitted, causing her movements to stop and look over her shoulder towards you, “I was wondering if you knew which room was Maggie… Harting’s. I’m her roommate.”

“Oh, yeah. I met her. Dressed in leather. Total badass. She’s actually just across the hall, met her when my mom and I were unloading boxes,” Emily said, gesturing towards the hallway.

“Cool. Thanks.” the words were short as your attention now was drawn to the hallway and your new roommate that you had yet to meet but now were intrigued by.

“Not have your keys yet?” Emily’s voice perked up causing you to turn back towards her.

You shook your head as your hand found its way into your jean pocket fiddling with the material on the inside, “No, I don’t know where to get them. Just thought it would be easier to find the roommate and ask her instead of question one of the purple greeters.”

Emily laughed as you referred to the upperclassmen that were sprawled across campus ready to help and answer any questions to settle in the freshman or new students. “I completely understand. Well, if your roommate turns out to be anything like mine. Feel free to wander across the hall and I’ll be more than happy to show you where to go or help you move in.”

“Thanks, that sounds great. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” you waved, stepping out into the hallway with a small smile on your lips.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied reciprocating the wave before her door slowly clicked shut, leaving her to unpack and settle into the small room.

You took a deep breath as you walked over towards the door that held where you supposedly were going to spend the next, however, months of your life with a stranger as your roommate. Staring at the empty wooden door, one that wasn’t covered in pictures or had a name written across a white board, you lifted your hand and knocked softly. Your heart was beating loudly in the base of your chest at the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. Before you could even think it was pulled open quickly and you were met with exactly what Emily had described.

Badass dressed in leather. A girl who was a few inches shorter than you stood on the other side of the door with dark black hair that had pink ends pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head. She had olive skin and dark brown eyes that supported a black liner drawn with a wing. With black studded earrings that matched the black choker around her neck, she was wearing ripped jeans and a leather jacket that hung over the blue tank top she wore underneath. As your gaze fell towards the ground, they fell on a pair of chunky black boots that had safety pins sticking out of the shoes’ flaps. Slowly, as your eyes lifted back up towards her face, you were met with a smirk etched across her mouth, the corners of her lips lifting ever so slightly.

“You must be Y/N Y/L/N. I was beginning to think you were dead or lost or not going to show up at all.”

You smiled sheepishly at how she was right with one simple glance at you, “Yeah and you must be Maggie.”

“You bet your ass I am,” she grinned, throwing the door open to reveal her -- well your room to you. “So what did you lose your key already?”

You stepped in slowly and shook your head as she closed the door behind you. Scanning the room, you took in the small space. On either side of the room, there were two twin size beds pushed up against the walls, one of which was still left bare. In between the two beds were two nightstands that sat under the only window. Just below each of the beds there were two desks sat up at the wall, yours being the one that sat really close to the door.

Over towards the bed that Maggie had obviously claimed was two closets one that was probably already filled with her black leather and jeans. With just being in Emily’s room, it looked almost identical to hers except it was in the opposite direction, but you were too focused on trying to drag a mattress through her front door to actually take the time to really look at it. The room still looked not all the way settled though Maggie’s black bedspread was wrinkled and there were clothes thrown over the chair at her desk. She was already settled but with your side still untouched and completely bare, the room overall looked incomplete.

Realizing that you had yet to answer Maggie’s question, you turned on your heels to see her leaning up against the door looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, no. I haven’t gone to get them yet. I was hoping you would show me where I’m supposed to get them and my schedule if you’re not busy.”

She snorted out a small laugh as she pushed herself up and off the door, “Please, I’ve been here since this morning practically waiting for you to get here so I’d be more than welcome to escort you to your keys.”

With that, she pulled open the door and strode out in the hallway giving you a view of the shave at the back of her head that was right above her neck. You stared at it for a second before you followed, closing the door behind you. From there you walked alongside her down the stairs and out of Parker Hall. She led you past the parking lot where your car sat, abandoned, and full of your shit towards who knows where.

For the next seven minutes, Maggie walked you down towards the main hall passed the groups of settling students and towering pine trees. All while making conversation of her home. She lived around an hour and a half away with her parents, younger sister, and Nana. Her dad was a huge business man and had a lot of money which was partly the reason she was able to get into this college. Not once had she seemed bothered by her father’s money and was rather comfortable explaining to you what her relationship was like with him and back at home. She also talked about what high school was like and how she had broken off things with her hot boyfriend of four years that drove a motorcycle.

Your favorite part was when she talked about her old friends and though people thought that they were bad news because they wore leather, they really were just hilarious outcasts that pulled pranks on each other all day. Just as you gained sight of the main hall that was lined with college students and parents all signing in and getting their own keys and schedules, you were pulled aside by Maggie’s arm gripping your elbow.

“What?” you asked, eyeing her raised eyebrows and curious smile.

You may have not picked up on it because you were pulled into her stories of home but she had easily noticed that you hadn’t said anything about yourself or your family. “You haven’t said anything about what it’s like where you’re from. Why aren’t your parents here dropping you off?”

Sighing at the question, only made her raise her eyebrows higher and you knew that because you would be living with her for the school year that you wouldn’t be able to keep everything from her forever. “It’s a long story. Simple answer, I didn’t want them to so instead I just packed up my car and drove here myself.”

You went to turn back towards the line but Maggie’s hand refused to fall from your arm and instead tightened causing you to look back at her, getting a little annoyed. “Wait, where are you from?”

Taking a deep breath, you muttered the name of the small town and watched as no recognition passed over her face but only scrunched up further into confusion. “Where’s that?” she asked.

“It’s across the country. Twenty-six hours across the country,” you replied, rolling your eyes lightly as hers widened, causing her brown orbs to broaden and her mouth to fall open. “Look I’ll explain as soon as we get my keys and schedule okay?”

Her confusion instantly fell away and in its place was pure determination. She smirked and her head tilted to the side as a glint filled her eyes. Her hand that had still yet to fall from your arm yanked as she turned around and began to drag you up towards the tables that sat in front of the main hall. She pulled you behind her as she passed fellow new students and parents resulting in some to gasp or call out the fact that you were cutting.

As you made it to the front, Maggie pushed aside a tall raven haired boy who was in the middle of asking the girl sitting at the table something, who was dressed in the same purple shirt you had seen on many people by now. He hissed as he stood off to the side feeling his mother placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He glared daggers towards Maggie and your eyes widened as his arm reached out to grab a hold of her leather jacket.

“Hey, don’t you know it’s rude to cut. We all want to get settled in as much as you do, alright,” he hissed again, his chest rising up and down as he spat the words.

Maggie finally turned to look at him, seeming unbothered by his killing glare so much that she sent a smug grin instead. “Oh, put a sock in it. It’s not like we’re going to stand around asking questions to stall having to say goodbye to mommy and daddy. We just need our keys and schedules then we’ll be on our way.”

You could hear the gasp came from the boy’s mother at his side, causing his face to swell and turn red in anger but instead of stepping forward to spit more insults at your roommate, he looked away from her and began to tap his foot impatiently on the concrete ground. Maggie rolled her eyes at his childish antics before turning back towards the upperclassman that stood silent watching the scene play out. She was tall with straight honey colored hair and pale skin, her award-winning smile now vanished. Though looking like she was about to protest, she was silenced by Maggie’s piercing glare.

“Okay, we’re here to get keys and a schedule,” she said calmly, leaning down with her hands grabbing at the end of the table.

“What hall?” the girl asked, her voice soft, still refusing to look up.

Maggie bit onto her bottom lip as her index finger began to scrape against the table, “Parker Hall, Y/N Y/L/N.”

Silently the upperclassman began to push through the files sat on the table and after about a minute or so pulled out a cream colored folder along with a key hung around a dark purple spiral wrist key chain. Holding out the folder and wrist band, Maggie plucked it from her hands and smiled sweetly, “Pleasure doing business with you.”

She then took a hold of your elbow again and led you away from the table making sure to send a shit eating grin towards the boy and his parents. You were still shocked by the whole thing even as you were walking back towards your hall folder and key in hand.

You began to thumb through the folder, locating your schedule that had your classes and where they were located but were pulled away from the wristband in your hand. The silver whistle was colliding with the set of keys causing a small clink as you walked. Your eyebrows furrowed on it and as you looked up towards Maggie, who was walking eyes glancing from the sidewalk to her phone, you spoke up to ask.

“What’s with the whistle?” you asked, causing Maggie to look over towards you and the wristband in your hand.

“U.W. rape whistle.”

“What?” you asked, surprised by the answer but realizing that it could have made sense with that it was a much bigger campus smacked in the middle of a city.

She looked back over towards you and perked up before opening her mouth for a high pitch voice to replace her own. “Blow it only if it’s actually happening.”

You quickly caught on that she was imitating the upperclassmen or whoever clearly gave her the set of her keys and schedule. Chuckling, you shake your head and move the spiral wristband around your wrist putting the whistle aside from your thoughts. You didn’t talk again until you got back to the hall and as Maggie went to head towards the door she stopped upon noticing you walk into a different direction. She followed to finally lay eyes on your Volkswagen golf that was all the way filled from the trunk all the way to the passenger seat with boxes and suitcases.

“Okay, wow,” she said, shoving her phone back into the pocket of her jeans as she watched you pull open the passenger door and grab a cardboard box.

“What, didn’t I say that I drove here?”

“Yeah, but I never expected this,” Maggie shrugged as you grabbed a backpack and swung it on your shoulders while taking another smaller box for her.

“Well, I did drive twenty-six hours and I don’t plan on driving back any time soon,” you admitted, closing the passenger door and heading towards the door of the hall.

Maggie followed all the way in and up the stairs towards the hall. You stopped in front of your door as you noticed a blonde ponytail in the hall writing on a whiteboard with a pink dry erase marker. At the sound of your steps, she turned a smile instantly falling on her face as she saw it’s you.

“Hey,” she said, moving away to reveal the door to her room. It was decorated with pink cut out hearts and flowers all surrounding a whiteboard that had ‘Lindsey & Emily’ written across in perfect cursive with the color pink.

“Hey, nice job on the door!”

“We are so not doing that to our door,” Maggie leaned over to you, mumbling underneath her breath.

Emily ignored Maggie’s comment, “Thanks, need some help?”

You nodded, moving to open the door to your room, “Yes, please.”

Once you unlocked the door, Emily held it open for you as you walked in and dropped the box that happened to be filled with books onto your bed, a sigh leaving your lips as you did. You turned back to the door to see Maggie following and setting the box at the end of the bed just as she a glance towards the blonde in the doorway. “Maggie, you’ve met Emily right? She’s just across the hall.”

“Yeah we have,” Maggie smiled, sending a short wave, “Hey!”

Emily smiled as you exited back out of the room and began to head down the stairs towards your car. They both followed you, hot on your heels when Maggie’s voice broke the silence as your vehicle came back into view. “So, can I ask questions now or do you need to wait until Em is out of ear shot?”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you popped open the trunk and began to look at what had been stuffed in a day or so prior. “You can ask.”

“What are you asking about?” Emily voiced, curious at her name being brought up by Maggie.

“Oh, Y/N here lives in a small town twenty-six hours away and drove here by herself without her parents,” Maggie replied looking over towards Emily, who’s eyes had widened into saucers.

“Maggie!”

“What? I have a feeling that she is going to be around with us for a while. She’s cool so she can probably know.”

You nodded as you picked up some boxes and began to place them on the ground for them to pick up, “Alright fair enough. You can ask two questions, that’s it. Then once everything is unloaded out of the car and into our room, I will allow you to ask more as I unpack. Okay?”

They both nodded in agreement as they went to pick up the boxes. Maggie being the first to ask a question. “So why didn’t you want your parents to come?”

Picking up another box full of clothes, you followed them as they turned towards the hall, “It’s complicated but basically I wanted to do this on my own. Prove a point, plus I didn’t want them to have to drive all the way over here and then drive back.”

“Fair enough,” Maggie said, beginning to climb up the brown dirt covered stairs.

“One more,” you stated voice sharp, “Better make it good because it will be at least twenty minutes before I answer any more.”

“Why here?” Emily asked cutting off Maggie before she could get the chance, “I mean I can barely stand that I’m two hours away but twenty-six. Why choose Washington?”

You were about to walk through the door of your room but stopped in the doorway, looking over your shoulder towards the two girls you had a feeling were going to become close friends of yours. You sighed, your eyes falling to the floor as you spoke, “It’s far away that no one knows who I am and I can get a fresh start, plus it’s so far away that I won’t have to go back.”

After you gave two curt replies to the questions asked, the next twenty minutes unloading the car was spent talking about what the school year was probably going to be like, since they couldn’t ask any follow up questions until after everything was unloaded out of the car and up into your dorm room. You could tell that even though they were enjoying the casual conversation, Maggie and Emily were still well intrigued about your intentions of leaving home and coming here. You knew from just looking at them and hearing their lame jokes about the upperclassmen and the purple shirts, that by the time you were upstairs and in your room they would be jumping you with their questions.

So much so that the second the door slammed shut behind you, leaving the three of you enclosed in the room filled with unemptied boxes and cases, they were basically screaming. After they calmed down, you stuck to your word and told them basically everything. Well most of it.

The tragedy in your family and the secret with it, you couldn’t mumble out because they were basically still strangers and this was too important. Instead, you told them of what you were like as a kid and why your parents were so set on the idea of you going to local university or taking online classes. You explained the anxiety that had formed in your stomach as a teenager and why you had grown to be so used to blending in with everyone else. By the time you had said that you were here to start fresh and resign from your spot on the sidelines watching, there were smiles spread across both of their faces.

The first one to speak was Maggie who had expressed her opinion by sending you a solute and yelling out, “you’re a doer not a watcher.”

They obviously felt that it must be hard being so far away but admired your efforts to break out of your shell and flourish out in the real world. So much that within the next three hours, you all spent time in the dorm room unpacking and talking about everything about one another desperate to gain any information about the new friends you all had made.

You were straightening out the grey comforter on your bed and fluffing out the pillows when you heard a gasp come from the other side of the room. You turned at the sound towards Maggie’s bed where she sat criss-cross-applesauce, leaning against the wall with Emily’s legs swung over her lap. Her eyes were wide in excitement as her mouth was left slightly parted showing the smile that had formed. You and Emily shared a glance before looking back towards Maggie.

“What?” Emily asked leaning up on her elbows as Maggie sent a smirk from her towards you.

“Oh, no. What is it?” you questioned, already having a feeling that whatever was going to come out of her mouth was bound to be trouble.

Maggie was practically glowing as she moved from the bed and stood up causing Emily’s legs to fall from the bed in the process. “We are now college students and I say it’s time for us to celebrate.”

“Celebrate, exactly how?” you asked cautiously as she crossed her arms over her chest and popped out a hip.

“It’s the first day of everyone being back on campus there is bound to be a party somewhere,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

That’s when you noticed Emily sit up from the bed raising a hand to interject, “Yeah there’s one at the sorority house. Alpha Delta Pi, I think. Usually their parties are for sororities and fraternities only but my roommate said that because it’s the first official day of everyone being back that it’s open for everyone on campus.”

“I knew that I liked you for a reason,” Maggie stated proudly, “So what do you say, Y/L/N?”

“A party?” you asked, getting a nod from her causing her bun to bounce a little, “No, I don’t think so I haven’t even finished unpacking yet.”

“So, you can do that tomorrow,” Maggie persuaded, moving towards your closet that held half of your clothes so far. She thumbed through it before stopping at one hanger that held an off the shoulder black long sleeve shirt that still had the tag on it, “Besides, didn’t you say you wanted to have fun.”

At her smooth words and the hanger she plucked from within the rack, you felt your heart flutter with nerves. As your eyes scanned from the smug look on her face towards the shirt, and then to Emily who sat with a raised eyebrow and sweet smile, a smirk fell onto your lips with ease. “Yeah, I guess I did. So where’s this sorority house located?”

a/n: hey! here’s the first party of my new series and sorry if it’s a little boring but I wanted to get introductions and the reader’s backstory out of the way. don’t worry shawn will be in the next part! :)

next part

#shawn mendes #shawn #mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #my writing #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes au #college au #sorority #fraternity #shawn x reader #shawn x y/n #shawn x you #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x you

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greekletters · 4 years

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fic time!

Prompt: last time I ask you for a favor

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"I need a date. That's all."

"That's all?" Surely Weiss realizes the gravity of her request.

"Come on Blake, please?"

"Why do you need a date? Can't you go by yourself? It's a wedding, that isn't yours. Pretty sure that's the only wedding you have to have a date for." You roll your eyes and continue to clean all the dishes from dinner.

Normally, living with Weiss was easy. You were both fairly relaxed and enjoy living in a quiet space. You were both very clean and there was never a mess to come home to after work. But for the last week she had been literally begging you to go to her friend's wedding with her.

"I forgot that I RSVPed with a guest and I never found.. a guest so I need someone to come with me or else I will look…"

"Lonely? Sad?"

"Quiet." She slaps your arm with the dish towel and continues to help you clean.

"I mean, taking someone to the wedding with you as a date that you aren't dating or interested in could be seen as something like… dare I say, desperate?" You quirk an eyebrow at her.

"While I see what you mean, I am more than willing to risk that possibility. It is nothing in comparison to me saying I'm going to bring someone and showing up alone. Which is what will happen if you don't come with me." She stomps her foot like a child when you take away their toy.

"This just seems like poor planning on your part, honestly." You turn and walk off towards your bedroom.

"Blake Belladonna!" She never raises her voice at you, so you stop in place, turning back around to face her.

"Weiss Schnee?"

"I cannot go to this wedding by myself, I will be mortified. I need your help!" You give her a few solid seconds of complete silence while you stare her down.

"Fine. But I don't have anything to wear. So I need to go shopping. And I need to know what you plan on wearing as well."

"Really? You'll go with me?" She clasps her hands together. "Wait, why did you suddenly change your mind?" Her expression changing from happiness to complete suspicion.

"I am your friend. And you said you need help. So I'll help you." You wave your hand at her and turn back around toward your room. "Even pretend to be your date."

You hear her mumble "thank God" as you grab your book and lay down on your bed to read for the rest of the evening.

—

You took the following week to find an outfit for this wedding. Weiss insisted on coming with you. Like you were incapable on your own. Oddly enough, she asked that you wear a sleeveless blouse and fitted pants with heels. Not what you ever would've picked, but Weiss was always way more fashion forward than you. So you trusted her judgement, and you know, pockets.

Luckily for you, Weiss is very particular, so she demanded that she pay to have your hair and makeup done. Which really made the day easier for you. So you weren't complaining.

As the two of you walk up to the ceremony, she leans over and whispers to you.

"I have something I have to tell you."

"Now?" Could she not maybe have said something in the car on the way here? Or you know, any other day?

"So, I may have told some of my friends, and maybe my sister that we were you know.." She lets her voice fade off as you walk into the chapel and have a seat next to her.

"No, I don't know." You whisper as you look at her with furrowed brows.

"I told everyone that we were together." She immediately looks away from you.

"Are you serious?!" You want to yell, but the religious dude up front had started talking and people were already shooting you dirty looks for talking at all. "Mhm."

The entire ceremony you just stare forward. Occasionally, you look at Weiss out of the corner of your eye. And when the ceremony finally concludes, the bride and groom, whoever the hell they are, ask the crowd to join them for dinner at some little outdoor set up they probably overpaid for next door.

Before the two of you can even speak to one another, someone you assume Weiss knows runs up to you.

"Oh my gosh. You must be the ever elusive Blake!" The woman with long red hair and emerald green eyes envelops you in a hug before you can prepare yourself.

"That would be me, unfortunately." Hoping the look you give Weiss over this stranger's shoulder is sufficient enough to get your point across.

"Weiss talks about you ALL the time. It's so good to finally meet you!"

"I don't talk about her all the time." Weiss looks away, embarrassed. And for some reason you can't stop the smile as it creeps across your face.

"I'll see the two of you at dinner. I have to go find Jaune. He's probably already sitting somewhere waiting for food. You know how he is." The perky lady leaves the two of you to stand in silence.

"Well? Let's go." You step next to her, grabbing her hand and pulling her forward with the crowd. "We can't be late for dinner, sweetheart."

"Blake, you don't have to do this." She stops, pulling back on your arm.

"Oh. That's where you're wrong, Miss Schnee." You pull out the chair in front of the place setting with Weiss' name and wait for her to sit down. "I do have one question for you though."

"What, what is it?" She looks up at you as you take your seat in the chair beside her.

"When you RSVP to junk like this, don't they ask what you want to eat?"

"Well, yes. Why do you ask?"

"Weiss, I'm trying to politely as what the hell you RSVPed that we would like to eat."

"Uh yeah, of course, um salmon. I know you like salmon so I figured it was a safe choice."

"Okay. Cool." You shrug your shoulders and take a sip from the fancy glass in front of you. "Do you think there's going to be an open bar? Or some wine maybe?"

Later in the night, you had been subjected to many introductions to various strangers as "Weiss' girlfriend." All of which seemed to have heard about you well before your arrival. But all in all, the day wasn't bad. For you at least.

You had taken any chance possible to make Weiss uncomfortable that had arisen. Whether it was hand holding, slow dancing, you think you may have even kissed the back of her hand once, whatever it was, if it embarrassed Weiss Schnee, you did it.

"That is the last time I ask you for a favor." She says as the two of you finally arrive home. And you can't help but laugh.

"Oh come on, don't tell me that you didn't enjoy our date." Quirking an eyebrow, you see the blush return to her cheeks.

"You didn't have to take it so over the top. Now we are going to have to have some kind of elaborate break up, yet somehow still manage to live together. I have no idea how I'm even going to explain that."

You watch as she paces through the living room. Back and forth. Weighing situations and outcomes over and over in her head.

"Weiss." It's almost like she can't even hear you. Too far inside her own head. So you say her name one more time, but a little louder. "Weiss."

"Yes?"

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

"We already ate."

You close your eyes and let the breath in your chest huff itself out in a small sigh.

"That's not what I'm asking."

"Why would you ask if I wanted to have dinner when we already had dinner? We literally just left the place where we had dinner. I don't know how you could be hungry. And it's late."

"Salmon."

"I'm so confused." You take a step closer to her.

"We have had the save the date for this wedding on the refrigerator for seven months."

"I know, I put it there. I told you that I could take it down if you got tired of looking at it."

"Which means that you got the invitation and had to RSVP roughly three or four months ago."

"Yes."

"And you know I like salmon."

"I do."

"And I know that means you RSVPed to the wedding as though I would be coming with you, three or four months ago. Which also means that you have been hoping I would go to this wedding with you for months. But you waited until the week before to practically beg me to go with you."

"Maybe." You take another step closer.

"Why?"

"I don't want to mess this up." Her voice is only barely above a whisper.

"I wasn't doing you a favor, you know." You take a step back, beginning your retreat. Not wanting to push this too far.

"Of course you were."

"I liked going to the wedding with you. I am glad I got to spend a day being somewhat fancy with you." She cracks a small smile.

"You do look rather nice."

"You know if you had asked me to go to the wedding with you months ago, I would've still said yes."

"Because you would help me if I asked, I know." She rolls her eyes, but seems disheartened.

"I would've said yes because I like waking up in the mornings to the sound of you yawning in the kitchen while you make coffee. I like to cook dinner because I know it means you will help me clean the dishes. I like to grocery shop on Tuesdays because it's the only day of the week that you leave work early, so you will always be able to go with me. I would've said yes, no matter when you would've asked. Because I like spending my time with you."

"Oh."

"Now that I have successfully embarrassed myself just as much as you have embarrassed yourself, I think we can say this day is officially over."

And with that, you turn and walk into your room. Your blood feels hot, but your skin feels ice cold. And you aren't sure if you're still breathing.

After taking a few deep breaths, you start to pace back and forth a few times. When you spin around one final time, you see Weiss leaning against the frame of your doorway.

"May I ask you for one more favor?"

"Okay."

"Ask me again, please."

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

"I would. Every day. But if you have a specific date and time in mind for one occasion in particular, that would be fine too."

"O-Okay. Great. Um. Tomorrow? Or is that too soon?"

"Apparently we've been waiting for months, so tomorrow is perfect."

"I only have one request."

"And what is that?"

"I don't want to hear any stories at the next wedding we go to about how you took me home after our first date. It would make me seem like a classless woman." She rolls her eyes as you laugh at your own joke.

"Blake Belladonna, keep it up with jokes like that and we won't be going to the next wedding."

"Oh whatever. You know you love my stupid jokes." She smiles at you from the doorway, and you feel like your heart is melting out of your chest and into your toes.

"I actually do."

#rwby monochrome #rwby checkmate #rwby fanfiction #blake belladonna #weiss schnee

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officialcherubcampus · 3 years

Text

Three futures - The Playboy

So what happens to James, Lauren, Kerry and all the gang after Shadow Wave?

Robert Muchamore has written three stories, depicting alternative futures for James and Kerry set in the year 2031.

Las Vegas - October 2031

James Choke sat at the end of an emperor-size bed. He was in a 53rd floor penthouse suite with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked coloured lights stretching five kilometres along the Las Vegas strip.

James would celebrate his 40th birthday in less than two weeks, but his personal trainer kept him in shape. He looked fit, dressed in boxers, with slicked back hair with touches of grey down the sides. He’d look even better when he put on the $80,000 hand-cut silk suit, and diamond crusted Rolex resting on the duvet alongside him.

“Why are you showing off?” James asked, as he looked round at a stunning blonde, whose head poked out between a mound of pillows and cushions.

She was James’ current girlfriend, a twenty-two-year-old cowgirl called Sue Loewe. Her voice was high and her accent came out of East Texas.

“I had your baby,” Sue said bitterly. “If you love me you should marry me.”

“I’ve been through four wives and four divorces already,” James said, trying not to lose his temper as he pulled his suit trousers up his legs. “That’s enough marrying for one lifetime. Now are you getting dressed for the opening ceremony or not?”

James ducked as a couple of velvet cushions spun angrily across the room towards him.

“Four wives and four hundred girlfriends,” Sue shouted. “But there’s only ever been one woman you loved. So why don’t you walk down your precious red carpet with her?”

James buckled his trousers and crawled up the bed towards Sue. She’d come to Vegas to compete in a rodeo, with model looks, an athletic body and the enormous breasts that had drawn James’ eye when he’d pinned on her runner-up rosette for the steer wrestling competition.

“This is the biggest night of my year,” James said. “The dress you’ve had made costs more than most cars.”

Sue hissed, “I want your time and attention, James. Not dresses. Not cars. Not money.”

James thought about trying to kiss Sue, but he didn’t have the heart. He’d been through enough women to know this relationship was in its last stretch: Sue would head back to her mother in Texas with the baby. She’d lawyer up and settle for a few million dollars a year in child maintenance. James would make sure his infant son wanted for nothing and fly him into Vegas for some daddy time two or three times a year.

“My chopper will be here in twenty minutes,” James said calmly, as he rolled off the bed. “I haven’t got time to fight with you right now.”

“You’re a greasy arse,” Sue shouted, as she grabbed a glass tumbler and lobbed it at his head.

Wives and girlfriends had been throwing stuff at James for years. He ducked expertly, leaving the glass to smash against the wall behind him. Then he grabbed his shoes, watch and the rest of the clothes off the end of the bed and made a swift exit through double walnut doors into a grand hallway.

The hallway was more than thirty metres long, with a chequerboard marble floor. The cleaning lady pushing a big scissor-mop acted like she’d heard nothing, but the black-suited bodyguard standing by the lift showed no such reserve.

“Your life would be a lot simpler if you could learn to keep your dick in your pants,” Bruce Norris said.

James grinned - as well as being James’ bodyguard Bruce was one of James’ oldest friends.

“The day I give up womanising is the day I give up breathing, Brucey Boy.”

Bruce shook his head, showing disapproval, tinged with jealousy. Bruce had toured the globe and won three ultimate fighting belts, but he’d now put wild days on the road behind him and lived a quiet life in a Vegas suburb, with three boys and a wife who worked as a croupier in one of the big casinos.

“I had a call earlier,” Bruce said, as James handed him a jacket so that he had free arms to pull on his shirt and bow tie. “From your oldest sister.”

James looked shocked. “Lauren! What did that fruitcake want?”

“She’d got a meeting in New York tomorrow. Said she’s passing over Vegas and asked if her name could be added to the guest list for tonight’s opening ceremony.”

“What did you say?”

“I checked with Kerry. She didn’t seem to have any problem with it.”

James was slightly irritated. “Lauren’s my sister, why didn’t you check with me?”

“You were out of contact,” Bruce said, raising one eyebrow. “Sharing the executive washroom with that hot Russian translator.”

“Oh her,” James said fondly. “Did you get her number by the way?”

“Lauren or the Russian?”

“The Russian.”

“I’m your bodyguard, not your pimp,” Bruce said tetchily. “We’d better get up to the helipad. Kerry will barbecue your balls if you’re late.”

...

Debbie Shan was the on-screen reporter for the local Vegas television station, but the gala opening of Choke Grand Plaza Casino was national news and even though she was on home turf, she felt out of place in the press pen outside the massive new casino, jostling with more famous faces from major news outlets from around the world.

“OK, Debbie,” the bearded cameraman said. “Take it again from the top.”

“Was the last take no good?” she asked.

The cameraman gave a reassuring nod. “Your take was fine, but with all this hullabaloo we need to get a couple down to make sure we can edit out all the background noise.”

“Right,” Debbie said, as she pushed her hair off her face, then switched to the more careful tone she used when speaking to camera.

“Twenty years ago, two newly married Stanford graduates drove from San Francisco to Las Vegas. But James and Kerry Choke were no ordinary honeymoon couple. James was a card shark, intending to use his maths skills to win big on the blackjack tables. Kerry was a smart young businesswoman who’d already made her first million from an online shoe store she’d set up while still at university.

“Over the last decade-and-a-half the Chokes have become the biggest thing in Vegas. Starting with the purchase and turnaround of the tiny run-down Boulder Gate Casino, the Choke Corporation rapidly became a multi-billion dollar business empire comprising casinos, hotels and sports teams that now stretches from the ownership of James’ favourite Premiership football outfit to the first ever mega-casino built in Beijing.

“When the Chokes’ marriage broke down, James’ affair and eighteen month marriage to movie star Kate Porpoise catapulted James to celebrity status as he entered one of the most gossiped about relationship in Hollywood history. Despite two more whirlwind marriages in the past five years for James, and Kerry settling down with new husband Paul Hartt - the couple have remained close friends. James and Kerry continue to work successfully as business partners, and in bringing up their three daughters.”

“Tonight we’ve seen wave after wave of celebrities from the internet, films and music arriving for the opening of Choke Grand Plaza, which Kerry Choke claims is the biggest and most glamorous casino anywhere in the world. The casino hotel has over 7,000 suites, 50,000 square metres of gambling space and an 80,000 seat stadium for the Choke Corporation’s newly instated Las Vegas Knights NFL team. What’s more I’m told we’re going to see more than seventy million dollars worth of fireworks go up in smoke before the doors of this colossal new gambling palace open to the public on the stroke of midnight.”

Debbie paused for a long breath, then looked away from the camera. “Was that OK?”

The cameraman nodded. “Perfect. I think we had the noise under control, but we’ll do it once more just to be sure.”

...

Lauren Adams had arrived at Vegas airport more than three hours earlier. Her hair was a tangle, she wore ripped jeans and dirty canvas pumps. Her only luggage was a small canvas holdall containing a computer, basic toiletries and a couple of changes of underwear.

With a title fight on at one end of the strip and a new casino opening at the other, Vegas was rammed. She’d had to queue more than an hour for a taxi at the airport, followed by 90 minutes through gridlocked traffic.

Even then, the driver couldn’t get within a block of the Choke Grand Plaza. The temperature was touching thirty, even though it was past 10pm and Lauren had to fight through the crowds who’d come out to watch the fireworks, and get a first peek at the latest Choke Corporation casino.

Lauren found Las Vegas tacky and revolting. The Choke Grand Plaza comprised four sixty storey towers clad in fake marble and gold leaf. The building had all the subtlety of a kick with a steel-toe capped boot and to make the place even worse, the rooftop penthouse complex atop the tallest tower was shaped like a giant NFL football. Lauren also spotted well-disguised cranes, suggesting that the Choke Grand Plaza wasn’t quite as ready for it’s grand opening as her brother and ex-sister-in-law would have liked the public to believe.

Still, Lauren was late and her associates had been working on her plan for months, so there wasn’t time to stand around gawping at the gaudy monstrosity. If getting to the casino had been a scrum, she was elevated into much classier surroundings as soon as Grand Plaza security blipped the VIP pass that Kerry had sent to her mobile.

“Mrs Rathbone,” an oily little guard dressed in casino uniform said, as he raised a velvet rope to let Lauren into a hotel lobby with a five storey atrium, giant waterfalls and chandeliers the size of a mini-van. “I’m Keith Selway, head of security in tower three. You should have called us when you landed, we had a driver waiting for you at the airport.”

Lauren felt gutted, because when she thought about it she even remembered Kerry saying something about a limo pick-up.

“I didn’t even know James Choke had a sister,” Selway said, as he led Lauren towards the elevator. “You must be very proud of him.”

Lauren smiled awkwardly. “Oh, I’m so proud.”

“Do you see your brother often?”

“It’s been a few years,” Lauren said. “But our children are quite close. James’ three daughters holiday with my brood in Sydney most summers.”

“You live in Australia?”

Lauren nodded. “My husband’s Australian. Now if you don’t mind, I need to get to my room and change as quickly as possible. I can’t really step on to the red carpet looking like this, can I?”

As Lauren spoke, Selway tapped away at a touch-screen computer. He read something before looking up.

“Your phone should operate the lift automatically, there’s no need to check in. As requested, Kerry Choke has arranged for a selection of evening wear and jewellery to be delivered to your room, with her compliments. Simply wear whatever outfit you prefer and the rest will be returned to the shop. A parcel also arrived for you today, and it’s been placed on the desk in your room.”

“Excellent,” Lauren said.

The elevator opened directly into a huge room that was a good deal more tasteful than the building’s exterior. Selway made a great fuss, hoping to earn himself a tip by showing Lauren everything from which button raised the Jacuzzi bath out of the floor, to the electric massage function built into the lounge chairs. In the end Lauren handed over $10 just to get him out of the door.

As soon as Selway was gone, Lauren looked quickly at a clothes rail with half-a-dozen designer dresses on it. She picked one without much thought, along with matching white shoes. She took far more care over unwrapping the small parcel on the desk. It contained a set of screwdrivers and wire cutters, plus a thumbnail-sized wireless modem.

Lauren knelt under the desk and unscrewed the faceplate on a computer network socket. The socket was a standard network port, but when Lauren pulled the cable a few centimetres out of the wall she found the point where the device linked into a fatter optical cable. This cable linked to the hotel’s main network hub and would enable a hacker with suitable passwords to gain high speed access to Choke Grand Plaza’s central computer system.

Between the copper and fibre optic cable was a transponder box that turned electrical pulses into optical ones. Lauren opened its plastic clamshell case and inserted the tiny modem. After crawling out from under the desk she picked up her phone and told it to call Gareth.

“Gareth, I’ve fixed your device into the hotel network,” Lauren told the phone.

“I just saw the connection pop up on my screen,” Gareth replied, sounding a little arrogant. “I’ve been sitting here waiting. I said I’d need an hour to get the job done, but the ceremony starts in less than half that.”

Lauren sounded cross. “Kate’s people asked me to do this as a favour. I’ve got four kids to look after back in Australia, so be grateful for what you’ve got.”

Gareth grunted before hanging up.

Lauren felt anxious as she crawled out from under the desk and screwed the faceplate back on to the network socket. It felt wrong abusing her relationship with James in order to make a political point, but although she still loved her brother it had been years since she’d really connected with him.

Kerry had always kept James grounded, but Lauren felt her brother had given in to his baser instincts when they’d divorced: womanising, gambling and partying. And while James constantly complained about press intrusion, he secretly seemed to revel in his bad-boy-billionaire profile.

...

“Daddy!”

Gwen Choke was 11 years old and still got excited when she saw her dad. James lifted her off the ground as he hugged her. At 13 and 15, Sarah and Ellen were more reserved and settled for kisses on the cheek.

Gwen and Ellen had their mother’s straight dark hair, while Sarah was a blonde who might almost have passed for her auntie Lauren at the same age. All three girls wore matching, slightly punkish, outfits, with black motorcycle boots, red stockings, mini-skirts and leather jackets with the Grand Plaza Casino logo on the back.

“Loving the matching gear,” James said. “Did your mum pick them?”

“They’re horrific,” Ellen spat. “I feel like a billboard. Why can’t I just wear what I like? Everyone else gets to.”

“Your mum’s put a lot of thought into this,” James said, trying to sound parental. “You get to wear what you want the rest of the time, don’t you?”

Kerry stepped into the bare concrete room and sensed her oldest daughter’s unhappiness. “Still moaning about that dress?”

Ellen shrugged. “I’m wearing it, aren’t I, for Christ’s sake?”

James and Kerry kissed. Kerry’s smell always set off a longing inside James, but he tried to ignore it.

“Is Sue not coming?” Kerry asked.

“She’s in a mood,” James said, as he shook his head. “Post-natal depression, I think.”

“I guess that’s the last we’ll be seeing of Sue then,” Sarah said cynically. “I wonder which dumb blonde we’ll be calling Auntie next?”

James wanted to tell his middle daughter off for being sarcastic, but the other two girls were smirking. And it wasn’t like Sarah had said anything that he hadn’t thought himself, so he changed tactics.

“So where’s your husband?” James asked.

“Medical Conference in Toronto,” Kerry said, as she glanced at her watch. “You’ve known for months that Paul wouldn’t be here tonight. Anyway, it’s time we rolled out.”

“Mum reckons Auntie Lauren’s coming as well,” Gwen said. “She’s not got her kids with her, but it’s still cool. I haven’t seen her since summer.”

“Haven’t bumped into her,” James said dismissively. “And I’ve no idea why she’s here. Last time I spoke to Lauren about the casino business she told me that it leeches profits from the poor and stupid and leads to gambling addiction and family breakdown. So what’s she doing at the opening of a glitzy new casino?”

“Casino do leech their profits from the poor and stupid,” Ellen said, unable to resist having a dig at her parents.

James laughed. “I tell you what Ellen, when you get your driver’s permit how about I make a charitable donation to gamblers anonymous in your name, instead of buying that Porsche you’re after?”

“She’d wreck a Porsche if she got it, anyway,” Sarah said.

“Shut up, bitch,” Ellen snapped back.

“You two,” Kerry shouted. “Behave!”

Sensing that family harmony was about to collapse, Kerry turned the conversation back towards Lauren.

“Maybe Lauren just saw an opportunity to make up for lost time,” Kerry suggested. “You two used to be so close. When did you last speak to her?”

James shrugged. “She phoned me at Christmas? Or was it when the girls were in Australia the summer before last?”

Gwen sounded outraged. “That’s fifteen months, daddy. How can you go fifteen months without talking to your own sister?”

“They had a fight,” Ellen said.

“Lauren and I never had a fight,” James said firmly. “We just grew apart. We lead different lifestyles and have very different attitudes.”

“We need to move now,” Bruce said, as he came into the room through a fire door. “Unless you want to miss your own fireworks.”

The Choke family walked through a concrete corridor that smelled of damp and new paint. It was built under the main fountain at the casino entrance. Kerry’s bodyguards, Alfie and Max, led the way up a spiral staircase. At ground level they all emerged into a luxurious gazebo where a couple of really big name celeb who’d been paid vast sums of money to show their faces at the casino opening nibbled crab-cakes and sipped wine.

Kerry made a big show of hugging everyone, while James helped eleven-year-old Gwen overcome her shyness and get an autograph off the star of her favourite TV show. At precisely six minutes to midnight, the first firework barrage lit up the sky.

James felt like he’d entered a warzone as he stepped along the red carpet towards the Grand Plaza’s huge Gothic-columned entrance, with a long haired daughter on each arm. Fireworks cracked above and hundreds of cameras flashed, from both photographers in the press area and snappers in the 30,000 strong crowd.

As another blast of fireworks erupted, a woman broke through the security barriers and threw a giant pair of gold knickers at James’ head. They missed, but James stopped to pick them up as security guards dragged the woman away.

“Thank you so much,” James said. “I always wear this brand and I was running low.”

James got a gentle whack from middle daughter Sarah. “Dad, you’re so embarrassing. If the boys in my class see a picture of me in the paper wearing this stupid outfit while you hold up a pair of gold knickers I’ll die of embarrassement.”

But James barely heard his daughter’s complaint because the next barrage of fireworks was powerful enough to shake the ground they walked on.

Two dozen VIPs had been given giant scissors to cut the ribbon on the stroke of midnight and declare the casino open, but before that could happen there would be a short video presentation of all the thrills that the new casino was going to offer.

Lauren wasn’t important enough to get scissors, but she had been allowed to stand with a slightly larger group of VIPs off to one side of the casino entrance. Her three nieces all made a beeline as soon as they spotted her.

“Auntie Lauren it’s been ages!” Sarah said, as Gwen hugged her.

“I totally want another holiday at your vineyard,” Ellen said. “It’s so mellow out there.”

“How’s Uncle Rat?” Sarah asked.

“Did that sick horse get better?” Gwen added.

“Uncle Rat and Mabel the horse are both much better,” Lauren said. “Rat’s hair’s grew back after the chemotherapy stopped and I really hope you can all make it out to Australia for Christmas this year. I know my kids are mad keen to see you again.”

“I want to go surfing again,” Sarah said. “And little Mac is so cute.”

James was approaching too, but as he was about to pull Lauren into a hug she felt her phone vibrate and took it out of her bag to see a message from Gareth that read, Job done. Seconds to spare!

“Was that more important than me?” James said irritably as Lauren stared at the phone.

“Little Mac’s got an ear infection,” Lauren lied, as they finally hugged. “Doctor’s given him antibiotics.”

“Sorry to hear that,” James said. “It’s been way too long since I saw you. I think you were pregnant with Mac and how old is he now?”

“Three next month,” Lauren said, as they squeezed each other. “You should visit when Kerry and the girls fly over. You stopped coming, but I never stopped inviting you.”

“Maybe I will this year,” James said, though it as an empty promise: he didn’t share his daughters’ liking for Lauren and Rat’s dusty ranch and vineyard, and the Aussie press didn’t give him enough room to misbehave when he went out partying in Sydney.

“You’re coming Daddy!” Gwen said, wagging her finger. “I heard you promise.”

“I said maybe I’ll go,” James replied, but he tailed off because the fireworks had stopped and the sixty storey casino towers had blacked out, apart from two vast video screens erected to show a short promotional film.

James had watched and approved the video himself, so he was unpleasantly surprised when instead of showing a sweeping helicopter shot of his new casino, the screens cut to a picture of his second ex-wife, the gorgeous movie actress Kate Porpoise.

She stood against a stark grey background and began speaking to camera.

“Don’t worry everyone,” Kate began, in a soothing voice. “In two minutes time the lights will come back on, the casino doors will open on schedule and you can all have some fun. But before you walk through the doors, maybe you should think about all the glass, concrete and steel that went into making this vat new casino, and all the resources it will use before it gets all shabby and they blow it up and build a replacement.

“Maybe you can also spare a thought for the four construction workers who were seriously injured during the building process. And maybe instead of going inside and gambling your money in order to make the Choke Corporation even richer than it is already, you could take five or ten dollars and help make the world a better place by donating it to one of the following organisations. Thanks for listening and whatever you decide to do, I hope you have a great evening!”

The crowd and VIPs looked stunned or confused as a short list of organisations and money transfer barcodes flashed up on screen. James whacked Ellen’s hand as she held up her phone, but he didn’t manage to stop her before several dozen photographers snapped her using the spend function to donate $70 to an environmental group.

“Your mother is going to be livid,” James said. “She spent months making sure every detail of this ceremony was spot on.”

Kerry walked up to James and whispered in his ear as a ten second countdown appeared on the screen.

“Keep smiling for the cameras,” Kerry snarled, with the worlds fakest grin etched on her face. “But I’m going to sue that bitch ex-ife of yours for every penny she has.”

“Seven,” the crowd chanted. “Six...”

“Our company will not be suing my ex-wife,” James said. “She’s the mother of my twins. Think about the boys.”

“Five...”

“So what, we just let her get away with this bullshit?” Kerry hissed.

“It’s the hacker we should worry about,” James pointed out as the crowd chanted four. “If they can hack into hotel systems can they get into the air conditioning, or the security cameras? There’s over ten million dollars cash stored in the casino vault.”

“Three...”

“I’ve already texted the security director telling him he’s fired,” Kerry said.

“Two...”

Lauren had recoiled slightly at the thought of a hacker hunt, but nothing could ever be traced back to her, provided she removed the modem she’d attached to the network socket in her room before she checked out the following morning.

“One...Zero!”

Cheers erupted as the countdown clock reached zero and a midnight chimed. Gwen Choke joined the celebrities in cutting the ribbon with giant scissors and then the two lines of security guards stepped out of the way and allowed the huge crowd to surge up a dozen escalators into Las Vegas’ newest and most luxurious casino.

James turned to Lauren after Kerry and his daughters had headed inside with the crowd.

“Still playing jokes on your big brother eh?” James said, smiling fondly.

Lauren practically swallowed her tongue. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Aww give over,” James said. “You and Kate Porpoise have always got on well. You’re both into environmental causes and it’s pretty damned suspicious that you should fly in from Australia and turn up out of the blue for a casino opening when you hate casinos.”

“I just came here to catch up with you,” Lauren said unconvincingly. “I’m meeting a friend in New York for dinner tomorrow and I had to change planes somewhere along the way.”

“Kerry will be pissed off, but I don’t much care,” James said casually. “We’ve shelled out millions of dollars in adverts and paid celebrities to walk down our red carpet on opening night, but I’d bet that little sabotage stunt you and your eco friends have pulled off will get us more publicity than all of that.”

“Bad publicity,” Lauren said.

“There’s no such thing,” James said. “Well, maybe if I got my wang out and tried molesting some cocktail waitress over a craps table that would be bad publicity. But a few eco-mental hippy types whinging won’t hold much sway with our customers.”

Lauren bristled with anger at her brother’s description of environmentalists, but Bruce tactically intervened.

“Hiya, Lauren,” Bruce said warmly, as he hugged his old friend. “Are you in Vegas for long? I’d love for you to come over for dinner and meet my boys. I’m giving them all ninja training. My three year old smashes roof slates with his bare hand.”

“Bruce, I want you to escort Lauren up to her room,” James said, sounding more like a boss than a friend. “Help her to remove her hacking equipment before hotel security has a chance to find it.”

Bruce looked awkwardly at Lauren, before pointing at the big screen, which was now back to showing the Grand Plaza casino logo.

“I should have known it was you,” Bruce said, smiling. “That’s old skool! The kind of prank we’d have pulled back in our CHERUB days.”

James didn’t like the fact that Bruce found it so funny and shook his head. “I’ll never hear the end of this if Kerry finds out,” James told Bruce. “Frankly Lauren, I can’t understand why you’ve done this. Maybe you and I aren’t that close anymore, but our kids are and they’ll be the ones who’ll get hurt the most if you fall out with Kerry.”

James had a good argument, but Lauren wasn’t about to accept a lesson in responsibility from one of the most irresponsible men she’d ever met, so she snapped back angrily. “Jesus James, the planet is choking to death and you’re building a casino with ten thousand air conditioning units in the middle of a desert. How can you live with yourself?”

“I live very nicely,” James said, grinning. “In my 53rd floor penthouse with a stunning girlfriend half my age, a private jet and a woman who charges eight hundred dollars to manicure my nails.”

Bruce sensed that this argument was about to get explosive and pushed himself between the sibling.

“Come on, you two,” Bruce said. “Cool heads, eh?”

“Just get her out of town,” James said, as he took a step back. “When you’re done in Lauren’s room, take her to the airport and arrange for one of the Choke Corporation jets to fly her to New York, or wherever it is she’s really going.”

“Goodnight James,” Lauren said, as her brother turned to head back into his corporation’s new ten-billion-dollar casino complex.

But the funny thing was, although James and Lauren hadn’t agreed on anything in years, there was so much history between them that they couldn’t bring themselves to hate each other.

James turned back to Lauren. “Am I still invited for Christmas Dinner?” he asked.

Lauren smiled. “Always.”

“Then I’ll be there, with my girls this year,” James said. “And as long as you let me know how your hacker friends got into our computer system, I’ll make sure that Kerry never finds out that you were involved.”

Lauren smirked. “Hacking your casino was easy because you never change your password. You’ve been using LordSexyPants55 since you first joined CHERUB.”

James jaw dropped, but he tried to brush it off as he disappeared into a mass of bodies, surrounded by casino security guards and members of the public. They reached out to shake James’ hand and begged fro autographs.

Bruce and Lauren headed the other way, walking down the now desolate red carpet, past the empty press pen and back towards the gazebo while the crowds continued pouring up the escalators.

“So, do you hear much from the old gang?” Bruce asked.

“I see Rat most days,” Lauren said.

“I mean apart from your husband,” Bruce said, laughing. “Kyle’s disappeared off my radar lately.”

Lauren nodded. “He wasn’t even at the last campus reunion. Gabrielle came out to Aus for a holiday last year with her husband. She’s earning big bucks working for a bank in Hong Kong. Bethany e-mails every now and then, but I haven’t seen her in years. And of course there’s people like Kevin and Dante, who’ve got jobs at CHERUB.”

“And Callum and Connor design skyscrapers,” Bruce said. “Did you see that thing they built in Taipei?”

“Monstrosity,” Lauren said. “But it won like a gazillion awards, so what do I know?”

“Next time you’re in Vegas, you must stay long enough to have dinner with my family,” Bruce said.

“Join us for Christmas out in Aus,” Lauren said. “I assume my brother pays you well enough to take the family on a good holiday once in a while.”

“He pays me a lot,” Bruce said. “But I’m not sure it’s enough for some of the messes I have to clean up, or some of his majesty’s little tantrums.”

“He can be such a pig,” Lauren said. “I’ve actually lost count of how many kids James has got now. Is it eight?”

“Ten,” Bruce said, “by six different women. But for all James’ money, and being the party boy clubbing ‘til 5am and hanging out with rock stars and being in the gossip columns, I don’t actually think he’s a very happy person.”

“Kerry?” Lauren asked.

“Obviously,” Bruce said solemnly. “James has always loved her and always will. But Kerry gave him more chances than he deserved and he still got his picture in the paper coming out of a nightclub with his hand up a stripper’s shirt.”

“If he’s unhappy he’s got nobody to blame but himself,” Lauren said firmly. “So, do you wanna stop off at a bar on the way to the airport? I don’t know about you, but I could murder a gin and tonic or five.”

Bruce looked at his watch. “Vegas is supposed to be a party town, isn’t it? So yeah, why the hell not?”

#CHERUB #cherub books #Robert Muchamore #Three Futures #James Adams #Bruce Norris #Lauren Adams #Kerry Chang

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Silent VI

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Grandma Tracy, Scott Tracy, John Tracy

Part 6 of my response to @gumnut-logic‘s SensorySunday: Taste challenge. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

I knew this pov would have a lot to say... but I was not expecting it to be this much to say! Knocking on 3k words, here.

Snow clearly had it in for the Tracy family. Not only did it see fit to steal a mother from her five young sons – and yes, fourteen counted as young, no matter what Scott tried to claim – but it also saw fit to keep Sally Tracy away from those same five boys for a further five painful days.

The instant the snow receded enough for her to safely drive (no matter how desperate she was, she had enough sense not to take foolhardy risks – better take a bit longer to get there than never arrive and crush the boys further than they already had been), she was in her already packed car and burning tarmac.

It meant driving through the night, as the conditions had not deigned to be in her favour until late evening, but she pulled into the desolate driveway of her son’s home just in time to catch sight of five very sorry-looking boys traipsing out the front door. Well, technically four boys traipsing while a fifth was carried by his biggest brother.

“Grandma!” If asked to predict which of her five grandsons would leap at her in greeting, her money would have been on one of the younger three. Gordon was most likely, with Virgil hot on his heels and Alan delayed only by the fact his legs were much shorter than his brothers’. Scott was too busy trying to be grown up now, much like his own father upon reaching the lofty teenage years, and John had always been the most withdrawn of the five.

A ginger head colliding with her chest as the withdrawn, quiet, John outstripped the rest of his brothers in greeting was beyond surprising, but also concerning. Grief did peculiar things, but she wouldn’t have thought it would make John more extroverted, of all things. The rest of her grandsons were hot on his tail – including Scott, whose lofty teenage airs were in visible tatters – and for several minutes she did nothing except embrace these precious children. There were tears from all parties, and when they eventually stepped back from their messy group hug in the driveway she surveyed all of them.

They were all ready to go to school, sporting various backpacks and satchels, and Sally immediately ushered them all back inside.

“Your bags?” John asked her, and she shushed him.

“I can deal with those later,” she said. “We need to get you boys to school, and I need to talk to each of your schools.” None of the boys looked particularly overjoyed at the news they still had to go to school, and part of her wished she’d been five minutes later arriving.

Only a small part, though. Most important was seeing the five of them with her own eyes.

“Can I play pranks again?” Gordon asked. “I don’t want to go to school if I can’t.” It was a bad idea – permission for pranks at school should never be given, but if it would convince him to go, then she agreed.

“But nothing too outrageous,” she warned.

“Why do we have to go to school?” Virgil asked, sounding particularly put-out at the idea.

“Because it’s a Friday, dear,” she told him. “And I need to talk to all of your teachers.”

“About Mommy?” Alan asked around a mouthful of fist, which she noticed Scott had been trying to silently coax out of his mouth without success. Scott himself had an impressive bruise on his face, which she fully intended on getting answers about. Similarly, she was quite curious about the foot kicking at Scott less surreptitiously than John probably intended, and the silent conversation passing between the two eldest boys.

“Yes, Alan,” she said, deciding to deal with the toddler first. “Now, how about you take your hand out of your mouth like Scotty wants you to?” The two year old narrowed his eyes at her, clearly judging whether or not he should obey. She gave him her Grandma Isn’t Going To Ask Again Young Man Look, and he slowly let his brother remove the hand and wipe the saliva off on his own shirt.

The looks being exchanged between Scott and John got more and more intense – less conversation, more argument – and she decided to tackle that next.

“Do you have something to say, boys?” They both froze, before opening their mouths in perfect unison.

“No-”

“Yes, Scott-”

“-not important-”

“-urgent-”

She raised a hand and both of them stopped.

“Does it have something to do with Scott’s new facial feature?” she asked, and Scott immediately looked away, as though that wasn’t an answer in itself.

“Hey, Alan,” John said, turning to his youngest brother and extracting him from Scott’s grip before the teenager realised what was happening. “Go play with Virgil and Gordon for a few minutes, okay?”

“John-”

“Grandma!” Alan sulked, drowning out whatever Scott was going to say. Immediately, she realised that whatever John wanted to tell her – and Scott didn’t – it was something the youngest three didn’t know about.

“Virgil, be a dear and look after your younger brothers for a couple of minutes, please,” she said, turning to the middle child, who was looking at his older brothers in open suspicion.

“But-”

“I just need to talk to Scott and John for a minute,” she said. “I won’t be long, I promise.” Big brown eyes studied her, and then he slid off of his chair to take Alan off of John’s hands. “Thank you,” she said, before turning her attention back to the eldest. “Shall we take this to the sitting room, boys?”

John all but dragged Scott through the doorway, and after one last look at the youngest three, who were all pouting at her, she followed.

“What happened?” she asked once they were out of earshot. “John?” He looked at Scott, who was studiously avoiding both of their eyes.

“Scott should tell you,” he said, nudging his big brother. Scott didn’t say anything, and John frowned. “You promised, Scott.”

“When you said ‘as soon as’ I didn’t think you meant the moment she walked through the door,” Scott snapped. John didn’t say anything back, but did put his arm around his brother’s shoulders in a silent gesture of support that did nothing to quell Sally’s rising panic. What had happened now?

“Scott?” she prompted, and he shuffled in place, looking down at the carpet. It was thin and worn from years of habitation and several young boys.

“I…” he started, before trailing off. “They… I…” His hand strayed to the bruise on his face and he winced before shooting John a pleading look that a week ago he would never have used. His younger brother sighed, but picked up the narrative with three words that froze her heart.

“Scott’s being bullied.”

“What?” The word escaped her unbidden as she immediately closed the gap between them, moving Scott’s hand out of the way to get a better look at the bruise. He closed his eyes, a faint flush filling his cheeks. “How long?”

“Monday,” Scott muttered, and her heart shattered. The day after Lucille- Her eldest grandson had found himself parentless and thrust into a position of responsibility he was far too young for, and his schoolmates started picking on him at the same time?

She enfolded him into her arms, and he didn’t resist.

“Oh, Scotty,” she murmured. He was almost as tall as her now – boys grew fast and she’d never been particularly tall herself – but he didn’t seem it right then. Screw the snow, she should have been here so much sooner. Scott should never have had to carry all that weight, even if it was only for a few days. “John, can you make sure your brothers are ready to leave? We’ll have to take the car if you’re going to be remotely on time.”

He left the room with a suspicious look directed her way, and she released Scott.

“I am so proud of you,” she told him, wiping away the tears clinging to his lashes gently with her thumbs. “You’ve done so well.” While I failed you.

No more. She was done failing her grandsons, and even though she wanted nothing more than to keep them all home from school, now she was here there were some things that needed dealing with – without five grandsons vying for her attention. It was the weekend tomorrow, and she had no intention of letting any of them out of her sight then.

“Let’s get your brothers off to school,” she said out loud, and if Scott had any thoughts on the matter, he didn’t say them, wiping his eyes on his sleeve before heading out to the car, where John had successfully corralled the other three.

John and Virgil were first to be dropped off, Scott left in the car with the youngest two as she hurried through the bureaucratic hoops required to change their emergency contact from Lucille to her, and quietly informed the staff of the tragedy.

It was the same story at Gordon’s school, and then again at Alan’s playgroup, and then it was on to the biggest challenge – Scott’s school. After the horrific revelation of that morning, she had more than one thing to discuss with the faculty, and this time she was going straight to the top.

“Where’s the principle’s office?” she asked Scott, and when he started to direct her, grabbing his bag in a clear intention to go to class, she shook her head. “No, don’t tell me. Show me.” The look he gave her was pleading, and her heart ached for him, but this was ending now.

The secretary was quick to let her in – apparently a grandmother storming the school was worth a principle’s time without too much fuss, especially with her grandson in tow – and Sally found herself in the principle’s office without much fanfare. Good. There was a time and a place to make a scene, and while her son might disagree, in the corridor where any nosy student could see was not it. Scott was not going to have an additional target painted on his back because of her.

“Mrs Tracy,” the principle – a Mr Atkins, if she recalled correctly – greeted her. “Mr Tracy, please, have a seat.” Scott hesitated, perhaps at being directly addressed, and Sally ushered him down before taking her own seat. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden meeting?”

“My daughter-in-law sadly passed away earlier this week,” she began, grasping hold of Scott’s hand before he could retreat, or flee the office entirely. Normally, she would never consider either of those things to be a typical Scott reaction, but there was nothing normal about their situation. “I was originally coming here to inform the school of this fact and have Scott’s emergency contact amended accordingly,” she continued after the socially-expected condolences were uttered. “However, I have since been made aware by my grandsons that Scott has also found himself at the unkind mercy of his fellow students this past week. This school has an anti-bullying policy, yes?”

“Absolutely,” he agreed, and from the set of his jaw, Sally could see that it was one he planned on reinforcing. Good, that made her job much easier.

“Scott will not be attending school today,” she continued, ignoring the startled jerk of the hand she was still holding. “I don’t yet know the extent of injury past the obvious” – she drew the man’s attention to Scott’s face – “thanks to my grandsons springing this revelation on me not half an hour ago, and until I’m satisfied that both the culprits have been suitably punished and that he is not injured beyond that, he will be enrolling in your online classes instead of attending campus.”

“But Grandma-” Scott protested, but she quelled him with a Look. She hadn’t missed his flinch at the mention of other injuries.

“I trust there are no issues with this?” she asked Mr Atkins, who shook his head.

“None at all, Mrs Tracy. I’ll be sure to inform his teachers of the change. However, I will need the names of the culprits?” Both adults turned to look at Scott, who blanched.

“I-” he started. Stopped. Shook his head.

“Scott?” she coaxed.

“They know about Gordon and Alan,” he muttered, voice shaking.

“Have they threatened them?” He shook his head.

“But they saw them… If they think I ratted them out…” Sally was surprised if she’d still have a heart left by the end of the morning, the way it kept breaking into smaller and smaller pieces.

“They won’t get near them,” she promised him. “I won’t let them, even if it means I have to drive them to school every day instead of walking. No-one’s going to hurt your brothers.”

He bit his lip, an expression more at home on his six year old brother than the teenager next to her. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, and smiled when he looked at her. You can do this, kid.

“Wilkinson,” spilled out of his mouth, the name stumbling over itself. “James Wilkinson. Mike Wilmby. Harry Greenwood. George Bulington. Wilkinson’s the leader.”

Sally knew some of those names. She was sure those were the names of the boys he used to walk to school with – his friends.

Why was everything she learnt just more bad news?

“Is that all of them?” Mr Atkins asked. She was pleased to see all four names on the tablet in front of him.

“Yessir,” Scott nodded. He was glancing around the room as if waiting for one or more of the boys to leap out at him, but his back was straighter than when he’d first entered the room.

“Is it all physical?” the principle continued. “Any name calling, stealing..?” Scott shook his head.

“Just… physical.” It sounded like he wanted to say another word, but held himself back. Sally noticed he had brought an arm to wrap around his stomach defensively. Mr Atkins noted that down, then let his stylus fall to the desk.

“Is there anything else we should know?” he asked gently, and Scott shook his head. “If you think of anything else, please get in touch. The more we know, the more effectively we’ll be able to deal with it.” He paused, clearly giving her grandson a chance to ‘remember’ anything else of importance, but Scott remained silent. “Mrs Tracy, can I help you with anything else?”

“I think that’s all for now,” she said. “Scott will start his online classes on Monday; I trust everything will be set up by then?”

“It will, Mrs Tracy. I will keep in touch – either directly or via my secretary – regarding the culprits,” he assured her, and after exchanging a few more required pleasantries she ushered her eldest grandson from the room, and back towards the car.

Scott stayed silent until they got home, until they were back in the sitting room, and she wrapped her arm around his shoulders much like John had done earlier.

“Scotty?” she prompted, and he sighed.

“Did you have to pull me out of school?” he muttered, although she noticed he wasn’t complaining about it like he would have been if there had been an audience.

“I didn’t pull you out,” she corrected him. “You have the same teachers, you’ll just be interacting with them online until I’m happy you’re safe to go back into the classroom.” She didn’t mention that if Mr Atkins had been any less proactive about the situation, then she’d be hunting down a brand new school for him right then and there. Something told her Scott wouldn’t want to hear that.

“It feels like I’m running away,” he admitted, and she shook her head.

“You’re not a coward, Scotty. You’re a boy who’s had the worst week of his life – a much worse week than those boys could possibly understand – and needs to heal.” After Lucille, she needed to know her grandsons were safe, in every meaning of the word.

“Is there a difference?” he muttered, but he did at least rest his head against her shoulder in a surrender.

“A big one.” She eyed his stomach, hidden by his shirt. “Now, how about you take that shirt off and show me what those horrible children have done to you?”

He flinched, curling up on himself slightly, and she tutted.

“Either you let Doctor Grandma look, or we’re going straight to the doctors for another doctor to have a gander,” she told him firmly. “Which is it going to be?” The more he flinched, the more convinced she became that there was far more than the obvious evidence on his face.

It turned out Scott did, in fact, still have enough pride not to let random strangers poke and prod at him, even though he was still reluctant to remove the article of clothing. When he did, however, Sally knew immediately that Mr Atkins would be hearing from her again sooner than perhaps he’d expected.

Scott’s entire torso was black and blue and purple, bruises of varying ages overlapping each other in a horrifying story of the week. Matching bruises circled his upper arms, suspiciously hand-shaped, with little imagination required to identify the reasoning behind them, and when she got him to turn around, there were boot-shaped marks on his back, as well.

How dare they do this to her grandson?

She pressed a feather-light hand to the bruising on his torso, noticing the sharp intake of breath with a frown.

“Does it hurt?” she asked. Scott wouldn’t look her in the eye. “Scott?”

“Not after some tylenol,” he mumbled. She frowned, and probed gently to subtle winces and, in one particularly alarming case, a whimper.

Yes, Mr Atkins would be hearing from her again very soon. Once they got back from the hospital.

Part VII

#sensorysunday #sensorysunday2020 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #grandma tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #gordon tracy #silent

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jemej3m · 5 years

Note

RADIO CALLER AU RADIO CALLER AU RADIO CALLER AU

OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY

I’m way too lazy to link the rest of the parts so here’s the latest one lmao srry

Wymack settled into his chair. He well trusted Neil by now, but Minyard had a reputation that precedented him, so Wymack wouldn’t let the man derail the show with his presence.

He hadn’t told Kevin about Andrew’s sudden and startling reappearance yet: He knew his son would grow too fanatic and overenthusiastic, and probably put Andrew off all over again. Wymack looked into the man’s credentials: His behavioural record was tarnished to all hell, but every one of his grades had been stellar. It was baffling enough that the name Minyard had remained, lodged in his brain, until Neil had finally admitted who he wanted to co-host.

It was a Tuesday evening, already hitting close to midnight. Through the glass Neil was setting up, the routine old hat by now, but Andrew was lounging in a chair he seemed too familiar with, a lolly-pop in his mouth.

Wymack leaned into his soundboard and spoke into the comm. “You sure you’ve never been here, Minyard?”

The candy came out of his mouth with a pop. “Nope.” Neil sent Minyard a quiet smile and jostled his shoulder gently. Minyard flipped him off.

I’m too old for this.

‘This’ entailed: Obvious, middle-school flirting and being away past ten o’clock, both of which Wymack’d had enough of to last the rest of his presumably short lifespan.

He simply shook his head and settled further into the chair to watch the slow as it went live.

“Welcome back to Mid-Nights, with me, the same person who’s been hosting this show for months and yet still repeats his name, Neil Josten.” He grinned into the microphone and winked at Wymack, who rolled his eyes. Minyard mirrored him. Maybe Andrew would be the one to finally tame Josten’s shitty attitude. “But guess what? There’s someone else here with me today, cohosting tonight.”

“It’ll be a one-off event, undoubtedly.” Minyard said into his mike.

“Am I introducing you?”

“You dragged me on here, junkie.”

“I did, didn’t I. Cohosting with me tonight is Andrew Minyard, who’s got some new music and absolutely scathing opinions to share with you all. It’s a pleasure to have you here, ‘Drew.”

“Call me that again and I’ll sew your lips shut.”

Neil just laughed.

Wymack didn’t have to worry. Neil seemed well versed in conversing with Andrew, who, despite his misgivings, was very good at what he did: Things ran incredibly smoothly, to the point that Wymack realised it was ridiculous that he was here. Of course, he needed to assess Minyard to see if he was up to a permanent gig if he ever wanted one, but Neil easily had it under control. Minyard was way too familiar with the space, the boards and controls: He had to have been here prior, but Wymack wasn’t going to ask.

They made a good pair, Wymack thought. He wondered what they’d say if he offered them a prime-time spot.

It hit about two-thirty in the morning and Wymack hit the comm button mid-way through a song. “I’m going home. Congrats, Minyard. You better not have razed my studio to the ground by the time I get back here in a few hours.”

“Can’t make any promises.” The pint-sized man muttered. Wymack simply shook his head and tucked his chair under his desk, shoving his notes into his bag and filing out with his keys hanging off his ring finger.

It could just work. Neil and Andrew in evening peak-hour, the most promising intern Robin running graveyard shifts, and Allison moving up and out to the news broadcasting position she’d been offered.

It all fit together, like a hideous puzzle. Wymack didn’t mind: He’d keep adding pieces and making the FM-OX network a home for his kids.

“How’d you like that?” Neil insisted, forever obsessed with his work. Andrew rolled his eyes, standing up and pushing the chair under his desk. “It was good, wasn’t it?”

“You can’t think you’ll successfully entertain me with your own obsessive tendencies.”

“Fine.” Neil challenged. “I’ll let you drop me home if we go to Sweeties on the way.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes. Neil didn’t give in to an argument so easily, especially not one that had been consistent over the past few weeks. Neil, as Andrew eventually discovered, walked home in the dead of the night after his show. Like the reckless idiot he was. As if his striking features and scars didn’t draw enough attention to him: He deliberately put himself in harms way so often, and so carelessly, that Andrew wondered what kind of childhood he must have endured to be so infuriatingly reckless.

He’d asked Neil why he was so obviously flippant about himself. Neil had retorted with a sharp “I do care. I just can’t trust anyone to look out for me in my stead.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” Andrew offered. Neil, in a particularly bitter mood that day, had said nothing else.

Now Neil was letting Andrew drop him home. He had to want something.

“Only if you get me fries and ice cream.”

“Pl - Don’t put them together. I’ll be sick.”

Andrew noticed the way he caught himself before saying ‘please’. It was the little things about Neil that had him stumbling over himself as he fell deeper and deeper into the hole that was being attracted to Neil Josten, when he realised that Neil adhered to every one of his boundaries.

“Funnily enough, I couldn’t give less of a shit. Let’s go, Josten.”

They’d queued good music on the station in their absence and listened to it whilst Andrew drove with the windows down, careening into Sweeties’ drive-through. Neil had a small smile playing across his lips, curls fluttering in the breeze. When the car rolled to a stop his cheeks were flushed red, looking utterly windswept. Andrew had to avert his eyes.

Neil ordered for him, seeing as he’d spent the past four hours talking intermittently - more than he’d ever had to before, but also surprisingly easy when it was with Neil.

The other man said just what Andrew was thinking as they sat in the parking lot, Andrew dipping curly fries into strawberry ice-cream and Neil breathing in the steam from his black coffee.

“And to think this all happened because you called me one night.” Neil muttered, a teasing sparkle in his eye.

“You were confounding enough to keep my interest.” Andrew said dismissively.

“Am I still? Confounding?”

Yes and no. Andrew felt like he knew nothing about Neil. He’d known Neil did a course with Kevin and got into FM-OX through Kevin’s connections. He knew he didn’t talk to his family, that his scars were a premeditated attack from someone he knew. He knew Neil liked the colour grey and fruit and obscure, unknown musicians and the radio and that he didn’t celebrate his birthday. He didn’t have a car and liked going for jogs in the morning and took his coffee plain black and had moved around a lot as a kid. Neil was smart enough to entertain anyone on a specific topic, but he never let on that he knew more than he should for some scrawny young guy in the middle of a scrappy South Carolinian city.

Other than that, Andrew had nothing. Neil was like water between his fingers: Cool, refreshing, but impossible to get a grasp on.

“You’re still irritating.” Andrew answered. Neil just snorted and drank his coffee. “You haven’t eaten and definitely shouldn’t be drinking coffee at this hour.”

“I can take care of myself,” Neil argued, hiding behind his cup.

“Clearly.” Andrew grunted, shoving the car into reverse once he’d finished and pulled out of the empty parking lot.

Neil’s home was relatively close to FM-OX studios, a decrepit looking doorway between two crusty shop-fronts that lead to studio apartments that looked down on the street. Neil clambered out but turned around and leaned back into the car with a shit-eating grin.

“I had a good time, ‘Drew.” Like he was dropping Neil home from a date. Should he walk him to the door? Kiss him on his doorstep? How horrifically cliché.

Andrew scowled. “Don��t get comfortable, junkie.”

Neil winked. The fucking bastard winked. “Keep an eye out for a call from Wymack. He might just have an offer that’ll be too good to resist. See you soon, Minyard.” The car door slammed behind him.

Andrew was too late, distracted by watching Neil in his jeans and button-down walk to the front door of his apartment block, but still muttered “Fucking asshole.” like Neil was still there to hear him.

He thought he’d be exhausted, but he was fucking wired beyond belief. Even when he laid on his bed upon arriving home, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. Sleeping would reset the day. And Andrew wouldn’t admit this to anyone, not even to himself:

He didn’t want it to end.

ibfnakhrualhifwkjdbhferghifwuekjnhv HOW MANY PARTS WILL IT TAKE FOR THIS PINING TO BE OVERRRRR

#andreil #radio show au #neil josten #andrew minyard #david wymack #all for the game #radio presenter au #weeeeeeee part 4 bby #jem writes

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unholyhelbig · 4 years

Note

Hizzie Summertime AU. Beach+smut? And feel free to do whatever you want with that because I trust you completely since you are amazing!!

Read on AO3 | Send me more Legacies Prompts

Title: Braving the Storm

Ship: Hope Mikaelson/ Lizzie Saltzman

[a/n: aight’ go easy on me please, I haven’t written smut in over a year and I’m BAD at it]

The Rain had begun to fall sideways; the type of downpour that stung against raw skin and soaked through every inch of fabric until it felt like the very bones inside of her body was encased in a block of cloudy ice.

Hope Mikaelson had made a lot of terrible choices in her life. When she was fourteen she played spin the bottle on Tommy Hart’s deck and ended up with a drool-coated make-out session that left her until face red and raw. In 9th grade she tried to outdo all the other boys in her gym class by climbing the rock wall without a harness- she was fine, of course, but still ended up with a month’s detention for her stunt.

And right now; as she stood in the center of an impending hurricane, she knew she had made another terrible choice. Because the waves had gotten twice her height and she had stupidly believed that the brawn of the storm wouldn’t touch upon the shore until later. Hope had either last track of time or had horribly misjudged the large rolling clouds that rumbled towards the small beach town.

A hurricane had the clearance to empty an entire tourist-filled boardwalk. People rushed towards grocery stores and panic-bought anything that was there. Bread and water always left the shelves first, and then milk- which Hope never really understood because power didn’t last long with winds like this. Then the snack food would dwindle and so would the alcohol because everyone needed something to do when they were trapped inside of their houses.

Hope had successfully loaded up her surfboard on the roof of an old blue jeep, her hands numb from the cold onslaught of water that rinsed away whatever salt had brined her skin. Another crack of lightning washed across the sky in an intricate pattern before rumbling thunder followed. And her keys- she couldn't find her keys.

The palm trees started to hiss under the pressure thrown at them and Hope pushed falling drops away from her eyes as a beach umbrella, not tied down fully by its owner, folded like a piece of notebook paper barely scribbled on. Her skin felt numb, and so did her mind. There was no way she could get home in this.

She scanned the stretch of novelty shops, their lights all dimmed if not shut off entirely. There was a pizza place that had used slats of wood to cover up the vulnerable glass- and a shop that sold customized air-brush t-shirts. Each and everyone looked desolate and abandoned long ago. The news vans had scared everyone away and Hope suddenly wished they had done the same for her too.

Another gust of wind pressed rain deeper into her skin and a nearby palm tree, already bent under the current, finally snapped with a shattering crack, louder than any thunder had been. She smelt smoke and saw the red and orange sparks as bark sizzled against now-damaged power lines.

Hope doesn’t know if she screamed or not, couldn’t register it against her own fear, or the fact that the waves had gotten up to the docks and were tearing them apart from the threshold. She struggled to find her keys and her own breath against the hollowed wind.

The world blurred and her eyesight became fuzzy, and Hope wasn’t exactly sure if it was because of the storm, or her fear, or the pure way that her heart was pounding- but the taste of rain and the stinging feeling of hot sand against her skin was the last thing she could remember before everything faded to black.

Hope awoke without warning. Her throat was raw and tasted thickly of salt and dirt. She didn’t want to admit that her entire body ached, because that wasn’t in her nature- not in the slightest. But a sharp wave of pain disregarded her entirely.

She blinked away the drowsiness and took in her surroundings; the wind howled like a wronged spirit just past the four walls that she was situated in. There were shelves lined with shirts, and a few bubble wrapped snow globes that were settled with snow. She was strung across a ratty old sofa that smelled like it had been soaked in air freshener and her wet suit was hung across the edge of a bookcase.

Her hands moved against her mostly nude body in a fit of panic and then pain. She was wearing a large t-shirt that stretched past her knees and had a printed hermit crab and obnoxious blue writing that read “Shell Yeah, Beaches”. Thankfully her underwear was spared as well.

Hope scoffed and pulled herself onto her elbows. The rain still roared outside and a pair of foggy storm doors were held shut with a couple of sandbags against the bottom of the panes. Green light shaded everything in the back stock room. Her head was throbbing.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Hope moved her eyes across the room to another door, a wooden one that leads to a large windowed store that she couldn’t distinguish from the rest of them on the boulevard. “You got hit in the head pretty hard, though. I was starting to get worried.”

A girl, a beautiful girl shrouded in the emerald light of the storm stood with a bottle of unopened water. Her blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun and a t-shirt, branded with a fancy crest and the words Myrtle Beach, stood at attention. Her eyes were what stuck with Hope the most, reflecting such raw concern.

“What happened?” Her voice was scratchy and foreign to her ears.

“Well, if I’m reading the situation correctly. You ignored every single warning on television, and by the national guard, and by whatever higher power created the hurricane in the first place by going out to catch some waves.” The girl closed the space between them and uncapped the water before shoving it Hope’s way.

Hope remembered that part just fine. “I lost my car keys.”

“And you got knocked out by an Umbrella. Drink all of that.”

She eyed the water warily but took a few sips before the cold numbed her throat and she lowered the bottle. The stranger seemed to be satisfied enough, she took it back before setting it to the side. Hope moved until she was situated at the end of the sofa.

“Thank you,” Her voice was slight and whispered. “I was being stupid and I could have died and… thank you, it’s not often you meet a kind stranger. Not here.”

She nodded and Hope would like to think that she understood. Would like to think that she would rush out into the storm to save someone she didn’t know too- but some part of her knew that with conditions like this in a city like this, she probably wouldn’t.

“I’m Lizzie,” The girl finally said.

“Hope,”

“Well, Hope, it looks like we might be here for a while. Garden City flooded completely.” She looked around the stock room, taking in the escape routes in case the water decided to rise too far and push against the inside of the store. “I’ve been listening to an old radio but that’s about to go out too.”

Hope let out a small groan and moved her head around. Her neck was stiff and there was a ringing in her right ear. She wondered if she had the imprint of a beach umbrella on the side of her face, and she wondered even more how Lizzie got her out of that wet suit. Her cheeks were suddenly red and eyes dark.

“Wait- did you see me naked?”

Lizzie lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and plopped down on the couch next to Hope. A healthy amount of dust pooled into the air. “You were going to catch your death if you stayed in that thing- and I swear up and down that I didn’t look intentionally.”

Hope chuckled and the sound was soft. “Did you at least like what you saw?”

The near-stranger stopped mumbling through her sentences and drew in a sharp breath. Those deep eyes bore into her own and Hope felt a chill rush through her. She knew how to outlast a hurricane- everyone who lived in this city did. And the lack of alcohol, and in this case, power, sparked something odd into her.

“I mean, did you, I’m not trying to. Isn’t it an intrusion to?” Lizzie took a deep breath to still her words. “You’re very beautiful.”

“Mm,” Hope hummed and ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know if I got a concussion or not, but this whole knight in shining armor thing is very alluring.”

“Is it?” Lizzie had a bit of an edge to her voice and even in the greyish green light, they grew deeper in color.

Hope found herself leaning closer, over the middle cushion of the sofa. Because this was irrefutably her worst idea yet. For once, someone else had saved her, even if it was from a rainbow-colored beach umbrella. She considered it a win. She also considered the way Lizzie smelled light of lavender and rustic like the rain that had dried against her clothes.

Lizzie closed the distance between the two of them, her fingers soft against the edge of Hope’s chin. She tasted fresh, and her touch was gentle but rushed. Lizzie wicked her other hand through damp hair and bit down against her bottom lip, coaxing a moan from Hope’s chest.

Lizzie’s hand was moving, sliding evenly across her neck before resting close to her collarbone and she moved closer. In one fluid motion, Hope was suddenly being straddled, legs on either side of her as they pushed into the cushions of the couch.

Hope bucked forward under the weight and Lizzie pulled back slightly, “Let’s not get too excited-“She instructed and Hope nodded, feeling a pang at the loss of warmth that now hung between them.

The blonde went back to work, this time moving her lips to the nave of Hope’s neck, biting and nipping lightly at her pulse point as the shorter girl growled in anticipation, leaning her head against the back of the couch. This girl was a tease- a skilled, but strong mannered tease.

She hadn’t noticed the way Lizzie’s hand moved across the contours of her skin, and the hot molten trails that each finger left behind as she neared the edge of her underwear. The fabric was cold and slightly damp from the wet suit, but even Hope could tell that that was nothing more than an excuse.

“God Lizzie, Please-“Hope mumbled, breathy and barely audible.

Her cheeks flushed to a different shade of red, she had never been one to beg. But as Lizzie's touch dropped between her legs she couldn’t help but squirm. Fingers traced evenly against her folds and a jolt of excitement moved through her like blood.

“What was that?” Lizzie snarled.

“I need you,” Hope panted out.

“Need me to what?”

She was starting to get frustrated, wanting to lift her hips, finally getting the sensation that she craved. But the patient look on Lizzie’s face was enough for her to struggle in steadying her breath, her words were still ragged “I need you to fuck me.”

The grin against Lizzie’s lips was animalistic and dark as she smiled into a biting kiss, she expertly pressed into Hope with a flowing motion akin to relief, two fingers working inside of her in a steady tempo that seemed to match up with her increasing heart rate.

Hope whimpered into Lizzie’s mouth, the sensation vibrating through her in the same rush that this morning had; that same edge of danger and content that standing at the edge of the ocean while storm clouds subtly rolled in and black waves towered over her.

“Fuck,” Hope snarled, dragging both of her hands down Lizzie’s back, not caring how the fabric of the shirt felt under her nails. The taller woman increased her tempo, and Hope took to arching her back throat tight with the rhythm of a snare drum. “Please…”

“Please what, Hope?”

She glowered at the woman straddling her; because Lizzie had all the power. Had every inch of it. She was cocky and snide and Hope thought that if they met under other circumstances she wouldn’t be the one pinned down. “Let me cum”

Lizzie gave her a pointed look and slowed her movements.

“Please,” She repeated, this time softer, with less anger.

Lizzie seemed satisfied enough and worked her fingers harder than she had before, pressing inside of her until Hope felt like she couldn’t quite breathe right, and the stars in her eyes began to circle like a constellation. She pulled herself forward, nose pressed against the side of Lizzie’s neck as she stifled a moan against her hair.

Hope tightened around Lizzie’s fingers and breathed in that same alluring scent of sweet and rain-soaked bliss. She resisted the urge to bit down on something and instead pulled Lizzie closer as she let out a sigh of content, but just as quickly began to ache as the abundance of touch was pulled away.

“That was one hell of an introduction,” Hope panted, swallowing back the taste in her mouth as Lizzie smirked like a wolf. Devious but ever so captivating. Both of her hands were on Hope’s shoulders before she reached to the side and grabbed the half-empty bottle.

“Drink the rest of this,” She commanded and Hope rolled her eyes, “I’m serious, you might have a concussion and-“

Hope shook her head and grasped the collar of Lizzie’s shirt, pulling her close, breath hot on the side of her cheek. “I’m fine.” She rumbled pushing Lizzie away from her gently until the taller woman was laying on her back, despite the musty sofa and the cold rain the poured outside. She ignored the headache and straddled the girl's stomach.

“I think it’s your turn, Lizzie. On one condition.”

Hope traced her fingers against Lizzie’s collarbone, her breath picking up and eyes darting frantically in an attempt to read the misty expression on her face. “And what’s that?”

“I hope you remember how to beg,”

#hope mikaelson #lizzie saltzman #hope x lizzie #hizzie #Hizzie fanfic #fanfiction #request #Legacies #legacies fanfic #legacies fanfiction

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imagineseclipse · 4 years

Text

Stiles Stilinski x Witch!Reader- The hard way

Your head turned to your left shoulder, briefly looking back at Lydia Martin who was sat quietly in the drivers seat of her car, she caught your eye for a second sending you a reassuring nod.

Your eyes flickered over to Scott McCall who was stood frozen next to you, you could tell that he was nervous his whole aura had changed as the two of you approached the gates of Eichen House. You had promised yourself that you wouldn’t come back to this place but in situations like this promises had to be broken.

You weren’t a werewolf, you couldn’t listen to Scott’s heart rate that was increasing ever so slightly as he glanced down at you, wondering if you were as frightened as he was. However you were a witch, born into the Salem bloodline. You could read peoples Aura’s but you couldn’t actually perform any spells. How fitting especially during a time like this.

You’d been practicing witchcraft ever since the age of 15 and yet you still hadn’t been able to successfully cast a spell, and in emergencies like this you felt as if you were no help to the pack.

“I don’t like this idea one bit”Scott mumbled as he bit his lip hesitantly.

“Neither do I, but we have to get him out of there one way or another”you sighed, frowning at Scott.

“This is about Stiles, not about us”you added, nodding your head slightly.

Scott flashed you a look of understanding before his aura changed suddenly, you could feel the determination radiating off his body as he moved swiftly towards the Eichen house gates, pushing them open.

You listened to the towering gates creak open before turning to face Lydia once more, the strawberry blonde stared over from her car, sending you a look that told you she’d be waiting for you.

Scott shuddered next to you as the two of you stood close together, you took in your surroundings your thoughts drifting away as you felt the aura’s around you. Everyone in this place was so unhappy, and not to mention the trauma that everyone had gone through. You wished you could save them all.

This building was dark and evil, the people that worked there were dark and not to mention sketchy- your previous encounters with the staff proving the last statement to be true.

You were ripped so violently from your thoughts when a high pitched scream travelled down the coridoor, bouncing off the grey wallpaper. Scott’s body tensed up as you flinched backwards into him. You could feel his heart beating against his rib cage as he peered down.

You grimaced up at him, letting him know that he wasn’t the only one that was terrified.

“We can do this”he mumbled, nodding to himself before taking a step forwards towards the front desk. A voice from behind the two of you called out.

“Miss. Y/L/N, Mr. McCall”An unfamiliar voice made you and Scott turn on your heels in unison.

You came face to face with a man who looked no older than 25, his hair was almost pitch black and slicked back neatly. He wore a charming smile, but not the pleasant sort. The man was handsome, but dangerously handsome and you knew from the moment that his smile fell into a smirk-you couldn’t trust him.

“Well he’s new”you grumbled out under your breath. Scott nodded silently as he opened his mouth to continue.

“How do you know our names, how do you know who we are?”Scott spoke loud and clear, making sure he didn’t show any sign of weakness.

“I’ve been waiting for the two of you, although I did think that you would have come with the others y’know Miss.Martin and Miss.Tate considering they were both patients here”Unknown now very creepy Male speaks out to the two of you, an uncomfortably weird and questionable tone in his voice.

Your eye twitched slightly, rage building up in the pit of your stomach as he spoke about your two bestfriends.

“No, just us today sorry for the inconvenience”you shot back, your teeth gritting together as you decided mentally that this man was definitely the bad guy.

Your eyes fell to his name badge, widening upon reading his surname. Of course he knew who you were. You then caught sight of the key card that hung out of his front pocket on a lanyard.

“Brunski?”You scoffed out, folding your arms.

Scott’s eyebrows furrowed as he followed your line of sight. His eyes also catching sight of the key card.

“I’m his son”Dr. Well done for stating the obvious Brunski reveals.

“Figures”you breathed out, everything was making sense now. Brunski’s son was getting revenge for his father, Brunski senior had always had a vendetta against Stiles, and that’s why they hadn’t discharged Stiles on his leave date. They were keeping him hostage.

“So if you know who we are, then you know who we’re here for”Scott took a step towards Brunski. In that very second four large other rogue staff members appeared next to Brunski like they were guarding him. You and Scott definitely couldn’t take them on alone.

“I think we should take this conversation to my office”Brunski leered. You rolled your eyes, dismissing Brunski’s plan to take the two of you to his office and kill you both.

Balling up your fists you took a step forwards so that you were now stood next to Scott again, you narrowed your eyes angrily before exploding. Not caring about the four giants surrounding you.

“I think you should take your sorry as-

“What she means to say is that we aren’t going anywhere near your office, you are going to bring Stiles to us-alive”Scott interrupted you calmly.

You exhaled slowly, just wanting to see Stiles. You weren’t planning on leaving this doomed place without him. Thinking back on the unspoken promise that you had made eachother years prior.

“Stiles, I would never leave you behind”

“Y/n, I hope you know that I wouldn’t leave you behind either even if the world was literally ending and there was absolutely no chance of survival, or if an alien-

“I know I believe you”

“Good, w-well just make sure that you remember”

Brunski stood tall in front of you, his head tilted at an angle as he watched you grow more furious by the second.

“If you want Stiles there is a small price to pay”Brunski’s voice infuriated you. If they had hurt Stiles they would be the ones to pay the price you would make sure of it.

“Like father like son”you coughed out purposefully.

“We’re not paying anything, you’re going to get Stiles and you’re going to bring him back to us”Scott warned.

“Look man, you can either give him back to us or we can just take him”you shrugged, challenging Brunski. The dark haired doctor motioned once with his hands and his four protectors dispersed around you and Scott, forming a circle. Trapping you both.

Scott’s eyes widened, flicking his claws out as he growled wildly towards the tall bulky figures.

“I guess you wanted to do this the hard way”you groaned out. If this didn’t work, you were going to look very stupid.

You closed your eyes tight, flicking through your brain to find the most suited spell for this occasion. You put all of your focus into the thought of Stiles and getting him out of Eichen house.

The tips of your fingers started to tingle, feeling all of your energy run through your veins down into your hands.

“Incentos Permorai”you chanted, the spell easily rolling off your tongue as you started flicking your finger just as the overgrown men lunged towards you and Scott. Suddenly all the lights began to spark brightly before switching off all together, leaving you surrounded in darkness. You had done it, you had successfully cast a spell.

You didn’t have much time to stand and obsess over the fact that your powers were finally working, throughout the darkness you felt a hand latch onto yours, pulling you along quickly. You knew that Scott could see perfectly well in the dark, he swiped the key card away from Brunski who was trying to feel his way around the pitch black entrance corridor.

The two of you ran in the opposite direction to the shouting of the guards, the magic still flowing through your veins as you tried your hardest to keep the electricity down long enough for you and Scott to find Stiles.

“Scott I can’t hold it much longer”you hissed out in pain, suddenly feeling the weight of it all.

“It’s okay y/n turn it back on you did amazing, I can smell Stiles I got his scent before we came he’s literally in the room down this hall”Scott informed you as the two of you rushed down the halls towards a small but secure door.

You relaxed your body, closing your eyes. Within seconds the power had flickered back on.

Stiles had heard the commotion from outside of the door and he could have sworn he had heard your voice- he hadn’t heard it for so long now, maybe he was hallucinating.

Scott ripped the metal door off it’s hinges within seconds and you ran into the room first, your breathing had become erratic as you desperately searched every corner of the dark cold room.

Stiles’ mouth fell open as he watched you run across the room towards him, he stood from his seat on the floor immediately after seeing you and your body went crashing into his. He brought his hands up around you holding you tight in his arms.

“You came for me”Stiles sighed out with relief.

“I told you, I would never leave you behind”you whispered to him as the two of you loosened your grip on eachother.

Scott and Stiles reunited seconds later, sharing a tight hug before parting, Stiles patting Scott on the shoulder before making his way back over to you.

“Hey your nose is bleeding”Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed together as he lifted the sleeve of his checkered shirt up to your nose, wiping away the blood dripping onto your lip.

“That’s the least of our worries right now, we need to get out of here”you shook your head.

“Wait-The powercut did you just do that?”Stiles asked as Scott leant on the doorframe, checking to see if any of the guards had reached you yet.

“I don’t know how it just started working- but it did and that’s really not the point right now we need to leave!”You exclaimed as Scott ran back into the room.

“Too late-they’re here”he grimaced as one of the guards stormed towards the room. Scott jumped forwards swiping at him causing him to stumble backwards as another ran straight towards you and Stiles.

Stiles was about to step in front of you however you reached out, your hand wrapping gently around his arm stopping him from getting any closer.

“Impedimenta”you hissed out, Stiles’ eyes widened as everything around the three of you slowed down, the two guards were moving in slow motion giving you time to escape.

Your hand remained in Stiles’ as you ran back down the corridor, towards the entrance. Being sure to look out for Brunski and the two other guards on the way.

Your head started to become light and you could feel more blood dripping onto your jacket as you began approaching the main entrance, you were so close to leaving.

“H-hey y/n, you’re okay right?”Stiles bent his legs down so that he was level with your eyes. He frowned at the sight of the fresh blood.

“Just feeling a little weak that’s all, my energy will come back don’t worry”you reassured him, giving him a quick nod.

“Okay no more magic for you today, we’re nearly out of this place”he muttered as he wrapped your arm around his torso, his own arm holding you up but your shoulder. The two of you practically stumbling alongside eachother as Scott led the way.

There was no sign of Brunski junior anywhere as the three of you reached the entrance hall. Making your way over to the doors without hesitation, Scott began to pull on the handles but it seemed that the door wouldn’t open.

“Scott are you forgetting that you’re a werewolf?!”Stiles exclaimed, growing more worried.

“Stiles, do you wanna try to open these becau-

“Oh my bad, that’s my fault I’m sorry I can’t let you leave”Brunski’s voice chimed out from behind you once more, Stiles’ grip on you growing tighter as you turned to face your captor.

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bang-and-a-blintz · 4 years

Text

Through the Darkness

CHAPTER SEVEN - RED AND BLUES

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Relationship: Dracula/Roxana(OFC)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,708

In hindsight, Roxana probably shouldn't have had three strongly poured bloody marys. She should have switched to something less filling after a big meal; like a vodka soda, if she felt like keeping to the same liquor, or a gin and tonic to stir things up. Unfortunately, all the tomato juice and grits and bread and sausage and eggs did not mix well with the sight of someone's throat being literally torn open.

It was nasty, but at least now she could jot down 'successfully grossed out a five-hundred-something-year-old vampire' in her list of lifetime achievements.

"Well, that was…unexpected." Dracula said after a moment, his hands hung in the air like they were held up by marionette strings, "Revolting, yes, but I have to admit, this is a first."

"I…um, I would apologize, but -"

"Yes, you should be sorry! This is an Ermenegildo Zegna." He growled lowly and the Italian name slid off his tongue in such a way that it sent shivers down her spine. Not entirely unpleasant ones, she'd be loath to admit.

"Who cares about a suit? You just ended that man's life!" She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and took a few steps back to distance herself from the vampire. "Besides, you clearly can afford another one."

Dracula rolled his eyes and sighed, his hands now working on their own accord as he began to carefully peel the ruined jacket away from his body. "It's not about the money, Roxana, it's about the craftsmanship and quality of the items; think of the countless hours spent meticulously sewing and sizing each individual article of clothing. All of that dedication and hard work tossed away just because you can't stomach a little bit of blood."

"Unbelievable." She began to pace in a small circle, dragging her nails quite viciously and repeatedly through her unruly locks. "You care more about some bits of fabric than a human being's life."

After shaking off the chunks from the coat, he placed it sloppily over the corpse and started working on his vest. There was that ferocity that he recognized in her, it reminded him of Agatha, and it was that Van Helsing fire that was not so easily snubbed. "You will come to learn, my dear, that death is part of the journey. It is the finished masterpiece. Think of it as your magnum opus! It is the very thing that defines the meaning of every life and is nothing that you should be afraid of."

"You're missing my point completely and, for the record, I'm not scared of death."

Dracula was relieved to find the button-up shirt underneath his vest to be unscathed, but also a little more than slightly intrigued by her statement. He would, how they say, put a pin in it and return back to that later. "Then why are you so upset? It's not like you knew him."

She groaned and threw up her hands in exasperation. Roxana was not about to try and teach an old vampire new moral tricks, that was well above her pay grade.

Rolling up his sleeves, the Count set out to retrieve his belongings from the pockets of his jacket and then fitted the dirtied clothes onto the dead body. For the final touch, he slid his Ray Bans over the man's glassy eyes. "Ah, good enough, I suppose."

Dracula took a step back to view his handiwork while absentmindedly wiped the remaining blood from his face. Roxana stopped her pacing to stare dumbly at the sight before her. The mugger was propped up against the wall with his head drooped down to the side, covering the neck wound so it looked like someone who had little too much fun and passed out on the sidewalk. Not an entirely uncommon sight in this city.

"Please tell me you're not just going to leave him here."

He looked at her with raised brows, "And what would you have me do?"

"Clean up after yourself!" Roxana cried out. The adrenaline rush she got from witnessing a murder had not completely dissipated so now she was left grasping a bout of minor hysteria. "I would think that would be obvious!"

Dracula laughed, "That's rich coming from someone who just upchucked her dinner all over one of my finest suits!"

"Because you decided to floss your teeth with some dude's carotid artery."

"Why are you surprised? You know what I am!"

"Well, excuse me if I was a little caught off guard because it's a hell of a lot different seeing a vampire up close and in action as opposed to a tiny, shitty computer screen!" She was nearly shouting, oblivious to the desperation in her own voice as he drew closer. Her neck craned upwards to try and boldly keep eye contact while his grin grew to make him look like the cat who caught the canary. "Stop smiling like that!"

"Make me." His tone was teasingly low, those eyes wicked and sharp. She noticed how lively Dracula looked after he fed. It was unsettling.

WHOOP! WHOOP!

They jumped apart as sirens suddenly yipped at them and a bright flashlight waved back and forth between their faces. The dark street was instantly flooded by the red and blues spinning on top of the police car.

"Oh, fuck me." She murmured with wide eyes. Her hands instinctively started to raise a little before she forced them back down, reminding herself to act casual.

Dracula leaned over slightly, "Is that an invitation?"

"Please shut up." She hissed back, shooting him a glare. "And no, it's not."

He made a facial shrug and then smirked, tossing her a casual little wink just to rile her up. The short, frustrated huff he got in return was satisfying enough.

"Everything all right here?" The cop rolled down his window and peered out at them. "And how about your friend over there? He's not looking so great."

The light shined over the dead guy leaning against the wall and the pair froze, glancing at one another.

This was her moment, she could tell the officer about the murder and maybe he could protect her against…the vampire. Oh, who was she kidding? Dracula would quicker snap her neck and drain the officer before risking the chance of exposure like that.

Meanwhile, her inner moral soldiers battled fiercely inside her brain over whether or not she should even say something about the murder. On the one hand, the count was a vicious blood-sucker who killed a man in a blink of the eye without any remorse, but on the other hand, it was technically self-defense…on her behalf anyway.

Logic eventually won when she realized that even if she did rat him out, it was highly unlikely the cop would even believe the truth. She would sound like a crazy person. The mental image of Dracula laughing and waving while she, hands uncomfortably cuffed behind her back, watched on with teary eyes as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance because the cruiser she was detained in drove off to the nearest prison…or an insane asylum. Whichever was closest.

Be killed or incarcerated? Neither were ideal. So Roxana went for door number three instead.

Dracula saw the look on her face. The look of a scared little rabbit getting ready to bolt. He had already tensed in preparation for her to make a sudden move but, to his surprise, that peculiar look vanished and Roxana smiled.

"All good here, officer! And yes, unfortunately this drunk pleb is with us. We were just about to get a ride back to the airbnb, sir." She shrugged her shoulders with a laugh. "It was his first time on Bourbon Street."

"Yes, I do believe he had one too many bloodys," Dracula was pleasantly surprised by her change in demeanor and happily played along. "Poor man vomited all over himself before we could find him a bin. Such a lightweight."

The officer squinted a little and they waited with bated breaths as he took a moment, which really felt like ages, to decide whether or not he believed their story.

"Alright then," He said at length and pointed to Dracula, "You make sure they get home safe now, ya hear?"

Roxana's eyebrows rose in disbelief while the Count grinned toothily, stepping over to her. She felt his hand slide up her spine and rest in a light grip around the back of her neck. "Of course, officer. I'll take care of them."

With a nod, the cop turned off his lights and drove back down the street, making a left at the next corner. Roxana let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and dropped her shoulders.

That was a close call.

"My, my, your heart is racing, Roxana." Dracula murmured into the darkness that had enveloped them once more. His thumb brushed over her pulse point and he was thrilled when it spiked at the touch. She went to move away but halted her step when she felt his grip tighten, those claws threatening to make a cut. He turned her to face him and firmly, but gently tilted her head back to force her to meet his stare.

"That was your chance. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Please," She scoffed and jutted her chin out defiantly, "We both know it would've been pointless."

"Still," He spoke softly, his head angling back as he observed her, "You could have told the police officer the truth."

"And have you kill us both? I think not. Remember, the foundation showed me those videos and I know you're immune to bullets. So what good would that have done me?"

Dracula stared at her for a moment and then wetted his lips slowly before speaking, inching closer and closer towards her face. "For the last time, I'm not killing you yet because I wish to get to know you, but if you keep bringing it up, I might feel inclined to change that timeframe."

"Well are you going to be this intolerable all the time? Because if so, then just get on with it, I'm in no mood to play a long con here, big guy."

"No, I do believe the fun has just begun."

"Great. Just great." Roxana was truly done. She could still taste the bile on her tongue like acid, it made her feel disgusting, and she wanted nothing more than the day to end. "Now, if you'll let me go, I'm in desperate need of a shower, a toothbrush, and a bed. Maybe a nightcap too because the last twenty-four hours of my life have been absolutely fucked."

Acquiescing her request, Dracula released his grip and allowed her to distance herself from him once more. He watched as she dragged a hand down her face and heaved a sigh; her blue eyes almost shined in the darkness up at him as she gave him a tired half-assed glare. She then turned and started walking towards Canal Street.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." She called over her shoulder, her manners be damned. "Goodnight, Dracula."

The Count gawked when she didn't even give him a second glance and he did nothing but watch as she made her way to the end of the street and disappeared around the corner. He truly did not understand that woman. Perhaps it was ingrained in the Van Helsing blood to be habitually nonplussed by his vampiric prowess.

He pulled out his cell phone with a sigh as his thoughts drifted to the dead man wearing his now-ruined five-thousand-dollar suit and about a quart of said Van Helsing's DNA. Dracula needed to get rid of that evidence before it came back and bit him in the ass. No pun intended.

"Hello, my lord, how was your day today?" Renfield sounded chipper as ever.

"I need you to dispose of a body."

Dracula grinned from ear to ear as he listened delightfully to the unfiltered frustration in Frank Renfield's long-suffering sigh.

—

What a day, Roxana thought as she shuffled onto the streetcar and plopped down in one of the wooden seats. With a lurch, the machine squealed and rattled as it moved forward along the track. She winced; the benches on these particular modes of transportation were incredibly unforgiving on one's posterior.

Blankly, she stared into nothing, not paying attention as the buildings passed by. The events of the night played on repeat in her mind. A real vampire killed a real person right before her eyes. Was this really real life now? She was too exhausted to try and figure it out.

She felt like an outsider looking in on her body as it ran on autopilot. Her hand pulled the string to stop the car and somehow her feet managed to take her all the way to her front step without incident.

Fifolet meowed at her incessantly by the door but it sounded muted and far away as she unlocked it. Robotically, she made a beeline to the bathroom and shed her clothes along the way. Not even waiting for the water to warm up, Roxana stood unflinchingly under the cold spray and began to clean herself as the temperature increased to the cusp of scalding. She scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin was red and raw. When she was finished, she pressed her forehead against the tiled wall and closed her eyes, simply listening to the water roar around her.

Without thinking, she lifted her hand up to gently wrap her fingers around her neck and couldn't stop her mind from wandering…from remembering the distinct sensation of another hand. His hand. She could almost still feel the vast expanse of his palm grasping her jugular and those impossibly long fingers curling nearly all the way around. Or how he leaned so close until he was just a breath away and anytime she would inhale, those fingers would tighten ever-so-slightly against her flesh.

Roxana's eyes shot open and she dropped her hand like it was on fire. Goosebumps lit up her arms and legs, despite the scorching water. Slamming the nozzle off, she threw back the curtains and began to dry off with furious gusto.

He was a vile creature. A feral beast. Not even human. The mere memory of his hands on her should be enough to appall her entirely. It must be delirium, she thought stubbornly, shaking the abhorrently traitorous images from her mind. She wrapped the towel around her head and strode towards the bedroom.

"I just need to go the fuck to sleep." Roxana muttered to herself and swiped the half-empty bottle of bourbon from the counter on her way. She collapsed onto the bed once she reached it, but sleep did not find her. Instead, she laid awake through the early hours of the morning, watching the ceiling fan spin on and on and on. She steadily knocked back the remainder of the liquor until the corners of her visions blurred and her eyelids became too heavy to keep open.

By the time the sun had risen in the sky, the bottle had rolled underneath her bed, long since emptied, and her light snores could be heard along with the chirping birdsongs. Fifolet patted over and curled up next to the woman, resting her paw gently on her outstretched arm and knowing that her human would be needing comfort now more than ever before.

—

The rest of the week flew by without any sort of batty drama and Roxana was grateful for it. She had a light workload with only two dinners scheduled and each went off without a hitch. All felt to be back to normal within her world. The weather wasn't comfortable yet, unfortunately, so she spent most of her free time relaxing at home. Not that she was using the cold as an excuse to stay inside and away from a certain someone. Nope, not a chance.

After that night, she had woken up with a righteous hangover and truly believed she had made up everything that had occurred in those twenty-four hours, but the textual evidence on her phone proved otherwise. Dracula had messaged her just once, to make sure she had made it home after their encounter, which she had to begrudgingly admit was rather sweet. Other than that, she was surprised to hear nothing more from the Count.

Roxana was cherishing the peace and quiet while she could. She knew that this whole interaction with Dracula was almost one-hundred-percent going to end up with her premature death. It wasn't hard to understand that hanging out with vampires and certain mortal peril basically went hand in hand. Not to mention the pesky fact about her being directly tied to a bloodline of women who had quite a lot to do with this ancient warlord and, spoiler alert, both of those women were killed...by him. So she intended to enjoy the calm before the storm.

Her phone went off next to her as she was boiling a pot of water for her own dinner and she saw an unknown number flash up at her.

"Hello?"

"Ah Miss von Hels, this is Keres Grimaldi. How I appreciate you taking the time as I am sure you must be terribly busy." The cold, feminine voice on the other line was not who Roxana had expected.

She blinked and then glanced around. The only plans she had this evening were drinking a bottle or two of wine, eating pasta, and watching some mind-numbing sitcoms. Yes, she was terribly busy. "Oh, no, not a problem at all. What can I do for you, Miss Grimaldi?"

"I would like to go over some of the details for this upcoming dinner." Keres' tone was icy and authoritative, leaving no room for nonsense or frivolous chatter. Roxana had a hard time imagining this woman throwing any sort of convivial party. "First, I believe you are aware of the delicate situation I am in, as head of the council, and the reason I chose your restaurant as the location once more is that I know that you will handle these delicacies with the same discretion you do with all of your soirees. Your clientele is famous and you appear to have the subtlety to maintain secrecy."

Roxana could not tell if this woman was being deliberately facetious or if she just always had the demeanor of a robotic bitch. Realizing very quickly that she wasn't about to get many words in, the chef put the phone on speaker and began to record the conversation so she could go back over it later to write the details down in her schedule. Work smarter, not harder. With a smile, she continued stirring the sauce as Keres plowed onward with her demands.

"The dinner will take place on the last Friday of the month, just two weeks before Mardi Gras. We shall be seating ten and you will provide meals for only five. It will be just you there and no other employees during the dinner, absolutely no exceptions."

"Okay, I'll have them leave before the clients arrive. You understand that includes my valet, right?"

"Yes, the transportation will be taken care of, therefore parking will not be an issue."

Strange, Roxana thought to herself while pouring the pasta into the strainer. "That works. Anything else? Dietary restrictions?"

As the words left her mouth, she winced and silence filled the room. It was a perfectly normal question under any other circumstance, but perhaps not this one.

"I noticed the other night that you seemed to be familiar with Mr. Balaur."

"I…um," She wasn't sure how she should answer the woman, "It was the first time I had met him, but I guess you could say we have mutual acquaintances."

"Miss von Hels, you are aware of his vampiric nature, are you not?" Well, Keres was certainly not tiptoeing around the subject.

"…Yes."

"Good, that's one less tedious explanation. I will provide the necessary dietary requirements, so you need not worry yourself over that. As for the mayor and his partners, you will want to contact them and decide on a menu that will suit their needs."

"Easy." She poured another glass of wine and took a long drink. "Anything else?"

The line was quiet for a moment and she had to check to make sure the call hadn't ended before Keres spoke up, "No, that will be all for now, Miss von Hels. Thank you for your time."

"Thank you for calling, Miss Grimaldi, I hope you have a great rest of your evening." Roxana really appreciated clients who were straight to the point, for it was often a headache to deal with indecisive people.

"One more thing," Keres' voice made her hand stop midway from pressing the end button, "Watch yourself around him. I've spent some time with Mr. Balaur in the last few years and I have never seen him look the way he did at you and this concerns me, not for your wellbeing of course, but for the future of our council. I will not have him go feral again, not under my watch, so if you know what is best for yourself, I would advise you to attempt to maintain a distance and use the utmost caution."

This caught Roxana off guard and her brows furrowed, "Then why are you having the dinner at Sanguine, if you are so concerned about this?"

Keres let out a laugh and it was anything but joyful. It lasted a beat too long for something that couldn't even be considered humorous and continued to send chills fluttering down Roxana's neck with a foreboding sense of danger.

"Oh, I know better by now than to try and take his toys away."

Taglist:

@festering-queen @vissidarte213 @moony691 @allis143 @torntaltos @apocalypsenowish

#Ooooooooouuuuueeeeee it’s starting to get exciting #dracula x ofc #dracula bbc #dracula fanfiction #through the darkness

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ttooccaa · 4 years

Text

Mamma Mia, he’s Italiano!

I wrote a fanfic for bartuardo(?) Crazy... It’s under keep reading, but there’s also a Ao3 link, I hope you like it.

Summary: After rescuing the prime minister of Italy from the evil clutches of Queen Bee, the Outsiders are invited to an event in their honor. Milan might not be the city of love, but everything can change, especially when a handsome Italian takes an interest in Ed and Bart is hit with a realization regarding his feelings towards his teammate.

Rating: Teen

Ao3 link

Komy Island

March 20, 23:45 UTC+2

“Terra, manoeuvre 16!” shouted Wonder girl, while throwing Tuppence Terror against a wall with her lasso.

Terra nodded and send a chunk of flying earth towards Wonder girl, who jumped on top of it. The earth piece took her swiftly to the center of the action, where Beast Boy was fighting Mammoth, while in the form of a green Gorilla.

Wonder girl jumped from the flying earth piece and landed on Mammoth’s back, where she wrapped her lasso around his neck and pulled tight, so that Beast Boy could deliver one last finishing blow to his face.

“Beast Boy to Beta, have you located the hostages?” He asked, contacting the other team through his ear piece, while narrowly avoiding an icicle flying his way.

“Yup, just got them out. E.D. will teleport them on the Bio-Ship.” Kid flash answered triumphantly, appearing from behind Beast Boy and forming a small tornado around Junior, sending him flying.

A sonic blast from above send Tommy Terror across the room. “Mission complete, ese. Let’s get out of here!” Said Blue Beatle, while grabbing Wonder girl’s arm and flying towards the opening in the roof.

Beast Boy used his ear piece once more. “Bio-Ship, come and get us.”

The Outsiders swiftly escaped through the ceiling hole and boarded the ship.

“Woohoo! Another successful mission for the Outsiders, if I do say so myself” Kid Flash high-fived El Dorado, then leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the control table.

Hollywood

March 21, 9:23 PST

“Good job team. You have successfully rescued Italy’s prime minister and her husband. They are on their way to Italy as we speak.” Came Nightwing’s voice from the large Tv in the Tower’s living room. “Even though both the League’s and the Outsiders’ approval rates are constantly rising we still need to earn the people’s trust back...”

“And that’s becoming harder and harder with Infinity inc. running around and stealing all the spotlight.” Interjected Static.

“Hey, I said it before and I’ll say it again, it’s not a bad thing that we have inspired other meta-teens to fight for what’s right” Best Boy crossed his arms over his chest confidently.

“Yeah man, but statistics don’t lie and both ours and the League’s aren’t exactly consistent.” Said Cyborg, while showing the team a hologram comparing the League’s, the Outsider’s and Infinity Inc.’s approval ratings.

Infinity inc. was leading with the Outsiders behind them and the League slowly rising.

“So not crash.” Huffed Kid flash.

Terra added “Well, at least it’s good to see, that the League’s newfound openness is actually having an impact on the people’s opinion.”

Nightwing sighed “It’s a slow rise, but it’s something.” He continued “Now, let’s get back to the matter at hand, we still don’t know why Onslaught kidnapped Italy’s prime minister, Giorgia Cancio and her husband, Matteo Cancio, but considering that Onslaught works for Queen Bee, it was certainly her doing... just like always there aren’t any evidence to back that up. The best we can do is assume...”

“And that assumption is..?” El Dorado was looking up, while sitting next to Bart on the large sofa in front of the screen, a lopsided grin on his face.

“That assumption is that Queen Bee is trying to eliminate all the politicians who have publicly stated that they don’t think her acquisition of the country formerly known as Qurac was done with completely legal methods.” Finished Nightwing.

Cyborg raised an eyebrow “Then why didn’t she just, you know, kill them?”

“Killing them would bring too much attention from the media, it would be even worse if it’s discovered that Onslaught was involved, considering they work for her and have diplomatic immunity in both Bialya and Greater Bialya” explained Superboy.

“Hello Megan! She wanted to use her influence on them, make them her allies, rather than opponents. Probably why she kept them on Komy Island, one of the islands in her jurisdiction.” Jaime looked thoughtful.

“From what Forager understood, there is nothing the Outsiders can do.” Said the red bug alien, nervously rubbing his hands.

“Not exactly, the most we can do now is warn the potential victims and have the League, the Team and the Outsiders keep an eye on them.” The former boy wonder concluded.

The Outsiders nodded in agreement.

Nightwing continued “All in all, good job everybody, Nightwing out.” The screen went blank.

Hollywood

March 30, 15:50 PST

Garfield was standing in the living room, in front of the huge screen, his back turned to all his teammates, currently filling out the room.

“So why did you call this meeting, fearless leader?” Ed’s soothing accent cut through the silence.

Cassie smiled “Is there a new mission for us?”

Garfield turned towards them, huge grin on his face “No and yes, the Outsiders have been invited to Italy by the prime minister!”

“Wait, what?” Virgil looked surprised.

“The prime minister of Italy has invited us to an event in our honour, there will be other big politicians there, who will all show their support and gratitude towards both the Outsiders and the League! A part of the event will be televised with different news outlets covering the story. This is exactly the kind of good publicity we need right now!” Explained Garfield.

Conner moved his head to the side and raised an eyebrow “And does the Team or the League know about this?”

“They have been informed and should we accept the invite M’Gann will also come with us, disguised, of course.” The green teen explained.

“I mean it will be nice to have public endorsers, especially from a country, other than America.” Bart added.

“Mhm, gaining the trust of not only the people living around the world, but also their governments will certainly make our job way easier.” Vic continued.

Cassie looked thoughtful “Maybe we can learn if some of the politicians there know anything about Markovia, I mean the whole country has been nothing, but silent since Brion took over.”

Tara looked up surprised and then down - sad and uncomfortable. Forager but two of his four hands on her shoulder and back.

“Sorry...” Cassie apologised quickly.

The rather happy atmosphere had significantly dropped.

Garfield tried to divert the team’s attention back to the matter at hand “The event will take place in about three weeks time, on the 21st of April in the Bulgari Hotel in Milan.”

That defiantly peaked the team’s interest.

Garfield continued “The “Thank you very much for saving us and not letting us become Queen Bee’s minions” party will start at 7:30 pm with all the guests’ arrival on a sort of Red carpet, but not really, then there will be introductions with a televised speech by the Prime minister, dinner and afterwards Party time!”

“This whole thing sounds so... fancy?” Virgil looked unsure.

“Do any of you even own something more elegant than a pair of jeans and a dress shirt?” Cassie was smirking.

“Hey, I’m a movie star! I go to fancy events all the time, of course I own suits!” Garfield replied, faking offence.

Ed looked concentrated “I used to own a couple, because of dance classes and competitions, though I doubt any of them still fit... and I did leave them all in Argentina.”

Cassie looked towards them as if to prove her point.

“Hey! You don’t exactly think of looking fancy when you’re on the run!” The Latino defended himself.

“Wait, let’s backtrack! Dancing? What kind?” The speedster had a really surprised and doubtful look on his face, but his eyes were shining with excitement.

“Sí, amigo, well argentine tango, of course, but also ballroom dances like waltz.” Ed grinned.

“That’s totally crash, but I would have never pegged you for that type of dancing.” The other teen was smirking, his eyebrows raised.

Jaime smirked “Or dancing in general, you were so irritated and moody two years ago, not exactly dancer qualities.”

“I’m a guy of many talents.” Ed shot back.

“Okay, Garfield has fancy outfits and Ed can dance, that’s great and all, but how are we supposed to act around all those politicians?” Victor asked exasperated.

Tara interjected “I can tell you a couple things about behaviour around such high class people, I am... well, was a princess after all.” Forager continued rubbing her back.

“I’m sure Perdita also won’t mind helping us out. Okay, so... all in favour of going?” Garfield asked, the mood again a bit tense.

“Aye!” Came everybody’s reply, while not filled with as much enthusiasm as Garfield would like it was still a good start.

“Crash.” The green teen smiled.

Milan, Hotel Bulgari

April 20, 8:34 GMT+2

The car that had taken the Outsiders and Miss Martian from the airport had just stopped to halt. The hotel was huge, made of marble and other stone, the structure looked big and heavy, but also elegant and sophisticated.

Bart was the first out of the car “This car ride took forever!” He immediately perked up after seeing the hotel.

“Wow! This place is so crash!” Exclaimed Kid flash, while running everywhere in and out of the hotel. He elbowed Garfield “Now I understand why you like being a celebrity so much.”

Eduardo whistled “We’re just standing in front of this thing and I already feel like I’ve gone bankrupt.”

The hotel employees that were waiting for them in front of the building were already taking their baggage out of the car. One of them introduced himself as Nicolo and said, that if there is anything they want or have any questions not to hesitate to ask him or any of the other employees. He gestured for the superheroes to follow him inside the hotel.

On the inside the hotel was even more stunning, again marble decorated with golden specks and dark wood. Everything looked so glamorous, like something straight out of a movie. It was like the place was shining and shimmering.

The receptionist was a young and energetic woman, her name was Francesca and she again, just like Nicolo, said, that they shouldn’t hesitate to contact her. She gave them their room keys, everybody had their own room, even Superboy and Miss Martin, who was coming under the disguise of a representative for the Justice League. Everybody also had full access to any of the hotel’s luxuries, such as the pool, the spa, the restaurant and so on. Francesca said they they will find their belongings already in the room.

“I hope you enjoy your stay with us!” Was the last thing she said, before the superhero team headed to the elevators.

Banter started as soon as they walked away from the reception.

“So which room are you in?” Asked Jaime, Bart.

“3016, you?” Bart asked looking at the magnetic card.

“3020!” Jaime answered, relieved to be close to his best friend.

“We’re really close, that’s so crash!” Bart was really excited.

Both of them visibly relaxed after learning they at least had one teammate close-by.

“I don’t wanna interrupt that cute “bro moment” you’ve got over there, but we’re all on the same floor.” Ed teased from behind them, showing his “3023” card to them.

“Oh!” Blue Beetle and the speedster smiled, a little embarrassed.

Bart was quick to pick himself up “That’s even more crash!”

Garfield cleared his throat “Okay, team, I don’t know about you, but I’m really jet lagged, especially because we couldn’t use the Bio-ship. After the Reach, not every country allows alien technology to cross their borders... Anyways, everyone know the plan for tomorrow right?”

“Look good and approachable!” Cassie answered.

“Make sure we are on our best behaviour, because of all the media coverage.” Cyborg continued.

“And don’t do anything stupid and embarrass ourselves in front of all those fancy people...” Virgil, looking a bit miserable, added.

“And?” Beast Boy asked, smiling, one eyebrow quirked up.

“And be ready by 7 pm, we get it, mom, don’t worry.” Ed, with his arms crossed over his chest, answered. “Now can we stop hogging the elevator and get some rest in our rooms?” A gentle smile gracing his face.

“Hey, it’s called being prepared okay? But, yeah, I would also like to take a nap.” Garfield yawned for good measure.

M’Gann was smiling, her hand on Connor’s shoulder “He’s becoming such a good leader, growing up so quickly.” She said telepathically to her fiancé.

“He really has grown those couple of months. They all have.” He squeezed her hand.

The Team arrived on their floor, said their goodbays and all headed towards their rooms.

Milan, Hotel Bulgari

April 20, 14:36 GMT+2

It had been a couple of hours since the team separated and Bart was bored out of his mind. He had already done everything there was to do in this room, taken a shower, watched tv, even slept for a bit. The speedster had already seen the whole hotel and the place was boring, there was nothing to do other than relax. Relaxing was not exactly his thing, he needed excitement, he need to see and experience things, he needed movement...

Bart would also love to see Milano, not that he couldn’t do it, he could see the whole country of Italy, if he so desired, but it’s always better with somebody. That way he can appreciate it more, he couldn’t exactly go sightseeing during the future, mostly because all of the survivors and children of survivors and so on were the Reach’s slaves and most of the world was destroyed and in ruins... But! That was then and that is now and that future will never happen... hopefully.

The brown haired teen flopped down on his bed from where he was standing in front of it, mulling over his boredom. He grabbed his phone.

He started mindlessly scrolling through Flitter and posted a pic he had taken while checking out the hotel. He looked through the “Memesiders” tag. Bart loved all the ridiculous things their fans would make like the “Ya’ll ugly” vine, but with Ed or all the PETA commercial parodies with Garfield. This defiantly kept him entertained for a couple of minutes, but it was quickly becoming boring. Living at super speed can be the worst sometimes.

Bart flipped himself over and opened his messages, maybe somebody was online. He texted Jaime (though in Bart’s phone it said ‘I’m blue da ba dee da baa DIE’), but got nothing from him in the few seconds he waited for a response. Suddenly the little tic next to Eduardo’s name (‘EDgy’) turned from grey to green and Bart seized his opportunity.

KA-CHOW: Ed, mi amigo! Wyd?

EDgy: Just woke up, like 10 mins ago, u?

KA-CHOW: Same old, same old, I’m sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

EDgy: Sooo?

KA-CHOW: BORED 😭😭😭

EDgy: Ain’t that the usual

KA-CHOW: Yessss, but YOU could help me!

EDgy: How so 🧐

KA-CHOW: Wanna blow this popsicle stand 😏

EDgy: LOL sure meet at the front in 15?

KA-CHOW: Ed, hermano, you’re a lifesaver

EDgy: Mi Dios, why can I hear the way you say ‘hermano’ even through text

Bart was buzzing with excitement, finally something to do! And with Ed! Ed’s honestly an awesome guy, he’s funny and a real smartass, him and Bart also bonded over their participation in the non-real, but certainly real enough “The Reach traumatised me for life (or has been traumatising me my whole life)” club.

In the beginning the curly haired teen was so angry and annoyed with everything and everybody around him, he saw his powers as a disease, an illness, wanted to get rid of them. Bart remembered how shocked and surprised Eduardo Dorado Sr. was when his son showed on his doorstep after defeating the Reach. The father honestly thought he ran away again.

Even though they spent time with Lex Luthor, “The Runaways” still didn’t have full control of their abilities or knew their full extend. So that’s where the League stepped in, helped the teens learn control in a way that didn’t make them feel like lap rats.

In those two years Ed and Bart’s relationship truly blossomed. Turns out, they had a lot in common, when both of them finally chilled out, Ed was not irritated by every little thing and Bart didn’t spend every waking minute wondering about the future.

Bart shock his head in a cartoonish way, as much as he’d like to reminiscent about his relationship with Ed, he should probably get dressed and get going. Bart grabbed a pair of black sweatpants shorts, a white T-shirt and a dark red shirt with the sleeves rolled up, which he left unbuttoned.

Bart had super speed, but he also had a secret identity, as retro as that was. He slowly opened his room’s door a little bit and looked both ways down the hallway. The team had checked the cameras earlier and luckily none of them looked their way, well not anymore that is, after Cyborg tinkered with them a bit and created a blind spot. ‘Coast clear’ Bart thought.

The green eyed teen walked out of his room, without forgetting his magnet card and other necessities. The speedster took the elevator, which also took forever and walked to the front of the hotel, a second later there was a golden flash and Eduardo appeared next to him.

Ed was wearing a green and yellow stripped, baggy T-shirt, which he had tucked into his light denim jeans. They were cuffed and he had a brown belt to hold them up.

‘Damn, he looks amazing, so crash, well Ed always manages to look great, he is also so funny...’ Such thoughts always crossed Bart’s mind when he was with Ed, but then again he thought all his friends were awesome, yet with Ed, it started to be a little different. He never dwelled too much on it.

The other teen grinned at Bart “So, you got any plans?”

“Not really... We could walk around, check out Milan, I’ve never been, you?” They were walking towards a park right outside of the hotel.

“Never to Italy, but I did cross a big part of South America, until I got abducted by the Reach in Brazil.” The Latino cringed at the memory. He was sleeping on a bench, then a second later there was a hand on his mouth and before the panic and the adrenaline could kick in, he was out like a light.

“Anyways, we are not here to relieve our traumas, I suggest we check out some of the tourist attractions? I mean, this city is know for being one of the fashion capitals of the world? We could go window shopping on one of those way too expansive streets?” Ed suggested, one eyebrow raised, thinking of things to do.

Bart put his arms behind his head “Whatever we do, I’m sure it’s going to be fun.”

“Hmm is that so? Why?” Ed smiled shyly.

“‘Cause we’re doing it together, amigo! And things are always way more fun with friends, I mean you really appreciate them, when you didn’t have any growing up.” Bart’s energetic stride slowed down a bit.

“Hah, guess we’re not good at this whole ‘not bringing up our traumas and problems’ thing, huh?” The tan teen smiled teasingly.

“Yeah, suppose so...”

They had reached one of the more reserved parts of the park. Bart flopped down on one of the benches, Ed sat down next to him. The sunlight coming through the leaves above them was warm and creating fun shapes on the teens’ faces.

“I’m so feeling the mode right now.” The speedster huffed.

“Wanna talk about it?” Ed offered.

“Honestly... no. We’ve talked so much about our problems with both our mentors and Black Canary and so on and so fort. I just want to, idk, chill, relax, not think about it, even if it’s only for a few hours. How about you, hermano? Any traumas, problems and sad stories you wanna share with the class?” Bart answered truthfully, a lopsided smile on his face.

Ed grinned and looked at the empty bench in front of them “Nah, I mean I’ve got some, we all do, but sharing is so exhausting.”

They stayed like that for a bit, in comfortable silence.

“I heard that there’s a crazy amount of pigeons in front of ‘Du-om-o de Mi-lano!” The speedster broke the silence, already in front of ‘the golden one’.

Ed raised his eyebrows, then laughed “Oh, you mean Duomo di Milano!”

“Yeah! That’s what I said!” Bart defended his terrible accent, faking offence, but happy to have made his... friend laugh.

“No, amigo, it’s ‘Duomo di Milano’, you hear the difference?” The Argentinian got up next to Bart.

“Actually, yeah! How do you know to pronounce Italian so well?” Bart was already excited.

Ed blushed a bit “It’s only a couple words, no need to be so impressed, but actually Argentinian Spanish can sound closer to Italian, rather than Spanish.”

Bart took out his phone and put in the address of the Cathedral and they headed that way through the picturesque streets of Milan.

“I never knew that, you don’t really talk a lot about your time in Argentina or Argentina in general.” Bart explained, his hand illustrating his words.

“Well, there’s not a lot to be said about my life in Argentina... but if you want to know more about Argentinian culture and the Argentinian language, you can always ask me.” The other teen offered.

Ed was never the type to open up about his past, but then again who was Bart to judge him about that? They were in the same boat. A thought still crossed his mind ‘I want to know more about you.’ But instead he said “Totally crash, amigo.”

They arrived at the Cathedral and there really were a lot of pigeons, but also a lot of tourists and people in general.

“Wait a second, I have an idea, be back in a flash.” Ed winked, while Bart groaned at the terrible joke.

Ed teleported. It was so fascinating to see the way Ed had grown into his power, at first he hated it, but now, it was as natural as breathing for him. He teleported next to a man selling popcorn and bought two of the small cartons.

He turned away to teleport back to Bart, when suddenly “Oh my gosh! Are you? Are you El Dorado?! Of the Outsiders?” A girl with ginger hair in a ponytail squealed.

Eduardo turned towards her and smiled both awkwardly and kindly, he hoped.

“It’s really you!” The girl was jumping up and down in excitement.

“Uh, yeah?” That sounded pathetic even to Eduardo’s own ears.

“I’m really sorry, but can I please take a pic with you?” The girl’s eyes were shining.

“Uh, yeah... I mean, yeah, of course!” He tried to sound more enthusiastic, the girl didn’t seem to mind.

They took a quick selfie in which Ed tried to not look incredibly awkward, while holding up two boxes of popcorn.

The girl thanked him profusely and asked if any of the Outsiders were here to which he answered, that he’s sorry, but he couldn’t share that info with her.

The ponytail girl said that it’s all right and that she was glad to have seen him, in Italy of all places. They said their goodbyes with the girl still freaking out.

Eduardo was glad, that the Outsiders were doing a good job, spreading the good word around and inspiring others and so on. But sometimes such attention was a bit... overwhelming. He said many times, that the hero lifestyle wasn’t for him and he still believed it. Ed still felt that he wasn’t cut out to be a hero. As much as he’d love to stand here and dwell on these thoughts, he should get back to Bart.

He loved hanging out with Bart, at first... he didn’t like him. Ed thought he was just another gringo, with probably the worst accent ever. In the beginning he thought that Bart was mocking him in a way, with “Amigo, that”, “Hermano, that”, but then he realised that Bart was a pretty awesome and genuine dude.

With Bart he felt like he could let loose, be himself, it felt good. Bart made him feel good and himself in ways he didn’t know another person could. He felt like he could share everything with him and it’ll be fine, not that he had such plans for the near future, but it felt nice.

The Latino teleported back to Bart, who was currently taking a selfie in front of the Cathedral and sending it to the Flash Family chat.

“Whoa, man, popcorn! So worth the wait! Bart grabbed one of the boxes.

“Yeah, sorry, got approached by uhh... fan.” Ed explained, tossing a popcorn into his mouth.

“Crash, man, I love talking to our fans.” Bart continued enthusiastically stuffing his face with popcorn.

Ed threw a couple on the ground and pigeons immediately gathered around them “That’s good, it’s just that... I don’t know, I don’t feel like I should have fans, I mean what have I done to deserve people looking up to me? And even if I have done stuff that deserve praise, shouldn’t I do more, do better? I just feel like I haven’t done enough...”

“Well you may feel like people shouldn’t be your fans, but pigeons sure as hell adore you.” Bart tried to lighten up the mood, while tugging the discussion of Ed’s insecurities for later.

Eduardo snapped out of his daze and looked around to find at least a dozen pigeons around him “Guess, I was throwing out more popcorn, than I thought.” He laughed.

“Ah!” A pigeon got bold and landed right on Eduardo’s arm where the popcorn where, then a bunch more started flying around him and one landed on his other arm and shoulder. Ed was both panicked, surprised and laughing uncontrollably.

‘Looks good, even when he’s covered in pigeons, huh.’ Bart thought while snapping a few dozen pictures “Come, Eddie-Boy! Smile for the camera!” All in all those pigeons were a great distraction.

Bart took Ed’s arm and got him away from the bids currently trying to nest in his hair.

“Hahah, oh that was adorable!” Bart laughed, he got his phone out and started scrolling through the pictures. He wheezed so hard at them.

“Let me see!” Eduardo said while ridding himself of feathers. He looked at the pictures “That’s a winner right there!” He pointed at a picture where a bird had just flown towards his face which resulted in him being a blur with a shocked expression on his face.

“Really? I like that one.” Bart opened one, where Ed was looking at the camera, a big grin on his face and slight panic in his eyes, while he had pigeons all around and on him, one of them was in the box of popcorn, happily munching.

Ed looked the other way, a slight blush blossoming over his cheeks “Yeah, that one’s good as well.”

Bart was happily scrolling through the photos “You should totally post that one! Also one of the distressed ones! Imagine the memes people will make!”

“Since when is it our job to knowingly provide the public with our embarrassing moments? And hey, for all you know it could cause a scandal. I can just hear G. Gordon Godfrey - ‘Our so called heroes aren’t even in the country! How are they supposed to protect us when they are too busy feeding the pigeons!’” Ed purposelessly making his voice have as much of an American accent as possible.

“Yes! Or ‘What are they teaching our children?! To throw our food at animals?! Next you’ll know they’ll be telling them to throw trash on the streets of our beautiful America!’” Bart continued, almost letting a tear fall out of the corner of his eye at the mention of dirtying their America.

The teens looked at each other, then started laughing even harder.

The speedster looked up at the sky. The sun was slowly starting to set, he looked at Ed who was still catching his breath. Bart checked the time on his phone - 18:40.

“Wow, time truly flies when you’re having a good time.” Bart mused.

“Hmm?” The Latino looked at Bart’s phone “Almost seven pm.”

Bart’s stomach grumbled, Ed looked at him, one eyebrow raised “Really?”

“Hey! It’s not my problem I run on superspeed!” Bart grinned, fingerguning.

“Guess not, I could also grab a bite... I think we passed a pizzeria on our way here?” Ed wondered.

“Lead the way, amigo.” Bart bowed down like a gentleman.

The teleporter rolled his eyes, but still blushed a bit.

They walked side by side for a few minutes, until Bart pointed at a pizzeria close by and ran that way, dragging Ed with him. Good think he was making sure to run like a regular person.

The pizzeria was quite picturesque, small wooden tables with white tablecloths, flowers in the middle and wooden chairs.

A waiter quickly took them to a table outside.

Bart took one of the menus “Ohhh, what should I get? Maybe a Capricciosa or a Romana or maybe go classic with a Margherita? What about you?”

Ed loved how excited Bart could be over the simplest things sometimes “Mmm, maybe a vegetarian pizza?”

“Vegetarian also sounds good! Deciding is so hard, wish I could just take all of them.” Bart declared.

Ed took one of the red flowers out of the vase “I mean, you can certainly stomach all of them.”

The brown haired boy looked at Ed. He was holding the red flower between his fingers spinning it around, the sunset was casting beautiful shades of gold, red and orange on his skin. Ed met his eyes and smiled. Bart could stare at him looking like that forever.

“So, did you chose anything?” Their waiter, as if appearing out of nowhere, asked.

That startled both of them, Ed coughed and looked the other way and Bart burned a bright red.

“Uh, yeah I’ll have a large Capricciosa and a soda...” Bart trailer off.

“And I’ll take a large vegetarian pizza and also a soda...” Ed quickly continued.

The waiter smiled and said he’ll bring up them up, when they’re done. A few moment later he came back with their drinks.

Ed looked at the Cathedral, turned back to Bart and pointed at it. The speedster turned around to look at it. The Cathedral looked absolutely stunning like something out of a postcard, the beams from the sun were being reflected by the countless windows and painted the square. It was truly beautiful, but when Bart looked out of the corner of his eye, he could’ve sworn Ed was looking at him, even if for a split second.

The green eyed teen turned back around at took a sip out of his soda “How’s everything at the centre?”

Ed looked at him “Honestly, I don’t know, a mix of good and bad, I suppose? I mean, we’ve been making huge progress with a lot of the metas, but some of them are still scared and don’t want to accept their powers. We get new metas all the time, I’m struggling to make room for everybody as it is... We need more funding, I hate to say it, but Granny Goodness was our biggest sponsor, we are part of STAR labs, but not part of their funding, well not a big part, we get some money, but certainly not enough for all the newcomers...” The Latino stopped abruptly.

He smiled apologetically “I’m, sorry I know all this talk of money and funding isn’t really interesting...” He trailed off.

Bart jumped in “No! You know you can tell me anything and I would love to know more about the centre, not only the good, but also the bad.” He smiled.

Ed sighed and opened his mouth, but then “Sorry for the wait, gentlemen! Here are the Capricciosa and the vegetarian pizza, if there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to call!”

They thanked the waiter. Bart immediately dug in and was already three pieces in, while Ed was taking his first bite.

“Slow down there, amigo, it won’t go anywhere.” The teleporter laughed.

Bart wiped his mouth with the napkin “Yeah, yeah, gotta be reminded sometimes, you know in the apocalypse my favourite food was... food.” He shrugged, while smiling.

Ed looked at him apologetically, then grinned “Well, good thing you came to us, no idea what I would do without you... also you completely missed all the tomato sauce around your mouth.” He gave him another napkin.

Bart blushed at Ed’s words, but was also really happy, because he also didn’t know what he would do without everybody, the League, the Team, the Outsiders and... Ed.

Ed ate a slice of pizza.

“What about your father? Isn’t good ol’ doctor Dorado any help at the centre? I mean, he did found it with you?” Bart took a sip out of his soda.

Ed sighed “I don’t know, hermano. Me and dad we don’t really click? I suppose, it’s hard getting to know your son at 45 and respectfully your dad at 16... He doesn’t really help me with the centre, I have to do all of it on my own, well not all of it I have you and Neut, of course. There are just so many other things to consider like all of the legal stuff, there is so much paperwork! Also parents and psychologists and sometimes psychiatrists and I have to make sure everybody is safe and happy and comfortable.”

Bart cut him off “Geez, Ed, I didn’t know you had that much to take care of.” He felt a bit guilty, because he was overjoyed when Ed became part of the team, but if he really was that busy...

Ed clenched his hand around his almost empty can of soda “And I always feel like I’m not doing enough. Is the centre good enough, am I good enough for the Outsiders? Because I still don’t think the “hero life” is for me... I love being part of the team, but am I a good enough part?”

Bart smiled brightly “You know, I think... I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

Ed looked at him, confused “What do you mean?”

“Just... You’ve done so much! You were talking about a place, that can help young people deal with their powers even before you had full grasp of yours! You are going there every day to give them advice and a safe space to not only get a hold of their powers, but also share how they feel and discuss their traumas and so on. You joined a public superhero team just to give them inspiration. So don’t sell yourself so short, you’ve done a lot and you’re continuing to do it every day.”

“Wow, I uh... I don’t know what to say, thank you... you’re pretty incredible.” Ed looked Bart directly in his eyes. “Why are you always so good at reassuring me?” He grinned.

With Bart it was always different, because whenever he would say Ed was doing a good job or that he was doing well, he couldn’t help but believe him.

“What can I say, amigo? Not only am I incredibly good looking, I’m also an incredible friend.” He grinned, eyes closed and hand under his chin for dramatic effect.

The Argentinian smiled contentedly and agreed “Really though! And having you around when you can be in the center is always good, all the stress from dealing with everything seems to lessen when you’re around.” He smiled shyly at the last part.

Bart blushed “Well, I love spending time at the centre with all the metas and helping in whichever way I can and... being with you, of course.” He grinned.

Ed blushed a really bright red and tried to hide it by pretending to wipe his mouth with his napkin. “You know, you’re the only person I can talk with... like that.”

Bart slowly put his hand on top of Ed’s “Yeah, me too.”

Both of them smiled with light blushes on their cheeks.

Milan, Hotel Bulgari

April 21, 19:00 GMT+2

“Looking sharp there, boys!” Cassie smiled widely, fingerguning.

Kid Flash and Blue Beatle weren’t so sure about that. Because of their secret identities they had to wear their costumes (or at least the mask in Kid Flash’s case) under their tuxes. They felt a bit... silly.

Jaime looked at Wonder girl “You sure about that?”

She was wearing a form fitting, deep red dress without sleeves, that was cut right above the knees. She looked incredible. Though everybody remembers the relief they felt when she finally chose between the dress and the tux, not because she chose the dress, but because she chose something.

“Dont sweat it, Jaime! Get it? ‘Cause you’re wearing both the costume and the tux!” The blonde laughed hard at her own joke.

“Yeah, Cassie, I got it.” The blue superhero replied dryly.

“Forager also feels weird wearing something over his shell, but if it is a human custom, then Forager doesn’t mind.” The alien supplied, while running his four hands over the shirt and jacket.

M’gann smiled “You look great, Forager.”

“So the only people still missing are El Dorado and Static right?” Beast Boy asked tapping his food impatiently and looking around anxiously.

They had decided to meet in one of the hotel’s spare conference rooms with the hotel’s approval, of course.

The Martian walked over to her little brother and put her hand on his shoulder “Don’t worry, Gar, its only 7:15, I’m sure they’ll be here any second.”

Just after she said that, Ed and Virgil came in through the door.

“Sorry for being late, but Mr. Static over here first couldn’t decide between ties, then it was ‘With hat or no hat? With hat or no hat?” Ed rolled his eyes, while fixing his own gold coloured tie.

“Hey! The hat’s like an integral part of my look!” Virgil defended himself.

“You’re going to a formal event!” Ed retorted.

Cyborg supplied his opinion “If you ask me, good thing you decided to ditch it.”

“See!” El Dorado said while gesturing towards Vic.

“Whatever, man.” Static replied, visibly grumpy.

“Look, everybody, I can understand that some of you are nervous and unsure of what to do or how to act tonight. But remember just relax and be yourself. Don’t over exaggerate, if you start a conversation with somebody, but don’t know about the topic it’s best to drop it, be nice and if you don’t feel like it, don’t mingle, there’s a lot of us here, so you can always go up to somebody and hang out. We want good press, so be nice!” Garfield’s pep talk wasn’t much of a pep talk, but it did ease a lot of the Outsiders’ worries.

M’gann looked at Conner, that proud sparkle shining in her eyes.

El Dorado went over to Bart.

Bart grinned and elbowed Ed playfully “Lookin’ good there, amigo.”

And he really did, he was just wearing a simple black tux with a dark yellow (kinda gold) tie, but it fit in all the right places.

“You clean up nicely.” Ed winked, even though he was blushing hard.

Bart was wearing the same as him a simple black tux with a red tie, but he looked great. ‘There really was something about seeing a guy in a suit, huh...’ Ed thought.

Bart also blushed.

The white Martian looked in their direction and smiled gently.

Garfield looked at his watch “Okay, guys we’ve got ten minutes before this thing starts, everybody knows what to do right?”

“Yeah, Gar, calm down, promise we won’t blow anything up.” Cyborg rolled his eyes.

“And even if we do, I’ll just work my charm on them!” Bart wiggled his eyebrows, while pulling on his imaginary suspenders.

That did not ease any of Beast Boy’s worries.

Milan, Hotel Bulgari

April 21, 19:30 GMT+2

The Outsiders plus Miss Martian had to get to the front of the hotel to pretend they were just now arriving? Honestly the whole ordeal was pretty useless and stupid, but they had to interact with the media waiting outside.

They went right to where the “red carpet” and all the news reporters were.

Garfield turned around and looked at his team “Okay! Big smiles, everyone!”he winked at the end.

The others smiled uncomfortably.

The moment the team stepped into “the limelight” a hoard of reporters came onto them bombarding them with questions.

One woman was louder and shoved her microphone in Tara’s face “How do you feel now that you are a princess with no country?”

Tara’s happy expression dimmed and she casted her eyes down “No comment.” She replied, looking up and with newfound intensity in her eyes at the reporter. The message was clear ‘No more questions.’

Beast boy was quick to cover for her and take the attention of the reporters away from the former princess.

The team was quickly separated most of them were discreetly trying to get inside the hotel while answering as few questions as possible.

Ed, while not looking forward to being interviewed, wouldn’t mind answering a few questions if it meant he could explain that they were planing on opening a new centre for meta teens in Europe. The news were already announced a month back, but the more people knew about it the better. He was currently trying to get one in every major city in America, maybe at some point in every state. They had opened one more in Central City, but he also wanted to make them permanent, because as of right now the centres were only temporary.

The Argentinian wasn’t exactly nervous to talk in front of a camera, because of the centres he had to talk to strangers every day and also hold speeches and arrange things and so on. He’d learned to be comfortable in front of an audience, even if he couldn’t see them.

A reporter with a beautiful long dress and bright pink hair approached him out of nowhere and suddenly he had a microphone shoved in his face.

She smiled brightly and winked “Hello viewers! Here with us right now is El Dorado!”

Ed smiled and waved awkwardly.

“Now our viewers here are just dying to know! What exactly is going on in your tower in Hollywood? I mean a group of teenagers all living together! It must be crazy! Love scandals, parties! Tell us all the great gossip!” The reporter was overly enthusiastic to the point of being fake.

Ed thought back to all the “crazy drama” that occurs in the Outcast’s home, only thing that came to mind is their movie and game nights.

The Argentinian smiled politely “Well, most of the time we are too tired to really have the time for scandals, but something that’s more interesting is that the new meta-human youth center in Sweden, Stockholm will be up and running in a month.” He grinned.

The pink haired reporters face fell, though she did try to keep her smile on, but it was obvious she was annoyed “Wow, that’s crazy...” She turned quickly towards the camera and bit Ed a quick goodbye, realising she won’t be getting anything out of him.

The tan teen was definitely a bit annoyed, but not surprised, most news outlets were always looking for gossip. He continued his short walk towards the entrance of the event.

“Kid Flash! What happened to the previous Kid Flash?” A reporter shouted at Bart, while he was explaining to another one, that no he didn’t almost die that one time.

The question made him choke on his words, the other reporters noticed and also started asking him questions about the other Kid Flash. Bart quickly and while giving out excuses shuffled into the hotel.

Just as he entered he noticed Ed a couple feet away from him, his expression the same one as Bart’s.

“I’ll take it you’re also having a good time.” The shorter teenager smiled, while fixing his tie.

“I’m still trying to stay positive for the rest of the night.” Ed smiled at Bart, even though it was a little strained.

“Yeah... you and me both. Right now though, I’m totally feeling the mode.” Bart looked around and suddenly grabbed Ed’s sleeve “Eddie, look! There’s a huge table filled with bite sized food!” He was smiling, while showing how little the food was with his thumb and pointer finger.

“Didn’t we just eat like a couple hours ago?” Ed was always impressed with the speedster’s appetite.

They went over to the table, Bart quickly took a small plate and filled it with all kinds of finger food. At the same time Ed took a fancy looking glass filled with punch and looked around the room.

The event had just started, so the room was still pretty empty, safe for the hotel staff, a few other guests invited by the prime minister and the band, which consisted currently of a piano player, but places for other players and even a singer could be seen. The music was pretty, but kinda bland, like elevator music, it was just a background.

The other Outsiders had yet to make their way towards the ballroom, but Ed suspected that Forager and Tara were going to be joining them soon.

The speedster looked at Ed and for the god knew which time that night appreciated the way he looked, he quickly swallowed a mini sandwich he was eating and turned towards the Argentinian “You should totally try this little one with the orange stuff inside, it’s sweet, yet fruity!”

He held the little treat up, offering it to Ed.

For a moment too long Ed looked at Bart with a dumbfounded expression, the sudden thought of leaning down and eating it from Bart’s hand came to him, he felt all of his blood change course and go to his cheeks. The teen quickly took the food with his hand and ate it, desperately trying to will down his intense blush.

“It’s good.” He quickly added while giving an awkward thumbs up.

Bart raised his eyebrow, but still smiled.

The “golden one” took a small gulp from his glass, still trying to calm down his burning cheeks ‘What’s wrong with me? Only Bart can make me like this...”

“I’ve forgotten how obnoxious and insensitive reporters can be!” The former princess grumbled, already having reached the table and grabbing a small pastry. She leaned against the wooden table and crossed her arms.

Ed looked at her “So the interviews are going well.” He offered her a napkin.

“Garfield is doing just fine, while Cyborg is trying to stop the interviewers from overwhelming Forager... Superboy looked like he really didn’t want to be there.” The blonde took the napkin and placed a few pastries in it. “From the way things are looking the others will be following us here pretty soon.”

She quickly ate one more small dessert and pointed towards Ed and Bart “You two did good coming here so fast.”

Kid Flash flashed her a blinding grin and pretended to remove dust from his jacket “Being fast is kinda our specialty.” He turned towards Ed and winked “Right, amigo?”

A blush crept across his cheeks again ‘When will this end?!’ He thought, while quickly plastering a smile a giving Terra a thumbs up.

‘He’s so cute...’ Bart thought, but quickly banished the thought away.

The princess looked at him quizzically, but just shrugged.

Her gaze turned towards the entrance, some people had come through, the room was slowly filling out. The bright red of Forager’s shell was not hard to miss. Tara waved “Vic, Forager, over here!”

The grim expression on Vic’s face was becoming more and more visible as he approached the other Outsiders. The alien, on the other hand was rubbing his hands nervously.

“What got his gears so tightly wind up?” Ed leaned towards Forager.

“Victor Stone became upset after a reporter asked Victor Stone what happened with Victor Stone’s football career and then another one asked if Victor Stone felt like a freak, because of Victor Stone’s appearance.” Forager explained.

Everybody winced.

“Harsh.” Bart commented.

The tan teen turned towards Forager “What about you, buddy? Everything good?”

The alien rubbed his hands and looked down “Forager would be happy to explain Forager’s culture to the reporters, but the reporters asked if Forager is in a relationship and if Forager finds humans appealing...”

“Yeah... they do that.” Ed looked at him apologetically.

Kid Flash tried to cheer him up “They don’t mean any harm...”

More and more people were coming into the room. Virgil and Blue Beetle were one of the first ones to enter. Virgil hastily turned his head, obviously looking for the others. He spotted the other teens near the table and together with Jaime quickly walked to them.

“Good thing Gar is out there.” Virgil ran a hand through his hair.

“God, this is like an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.” Ed said. “What would our name be? Abused by reporters Anonymous?” He was moving his glass with his hand, stirring the already lukewarm punch.

Bart laughed.

Ed felt something akin to pride in his chest at making Bart laugh.

“So come on, amigos, share with the group what happened to you out there with the scary and noisy interviewers!” The speedster threw a cookie in the air and caught it with his mouth.

Jaime crossed his arms over his chest “Even after two years the Reach is still a pretty popular topic.”

Bart put a hand on his shoulder.

Virgil sighed “Everything was going on fine, until one of them asked me to show off my power, but I panicked, demagnetised some part of their equipment.”

The peer counselor slung an arm across Virgil’s shoulders “Good job, man, you took one of them down. Our enemy will soon be slain.” He had a determined fire in his eyes.

Static pushed his arm away “You’re a real hoot, Ed. But seriously, people are always filming us, taking pictures of us and so on. How come I suck at interviews?”

Bart shrugged, and while chewing said “Well, when people are usually filming us, we don’t exactly have the time to stop and answer a few questions. We’re focused on, you know, saving them.”

“Makes sense, I guess.” Virgil took a small sandwich, defeat evident in his eyes.

Victor looked around “This place sure filled up.”

Even more important looking people wearing suits or beautiful dresses had come into the room.

Virgil looked at his phone “8:56, shouldn’t this whole thing be starting soon.

There was a silent agreement, that everybody couldn’t wait for the event to be over.

Wonder girl entered the room soon after. She waved and speed walked to her teammates.

When she arrived, the blonde quickly took a sweet from the table and popped it in her mouth. She said with her mouth full “If one more person asks me how I do my hair or makeup, I’m gonna flip.” She finished that sentence and ate a cracker with something grey on top.

“I mean! They don’t ask me about the missions or anything like that! It’s all ‘Is your lipstick punch-proof?’ Like what is that even supposed to mean?” She continued, while leaning against the table, her arms crossed

The other outsiders winced in sympathy.

“Sorry, man” Vic rubbed the back of his neck.

Cassie sighed “Eh, it is what it is, I guess... by your expressions, I’m not the only one who had a jolly good time out there.” She emphasised how happy she was by swinging her arm which was folded at the elbow, her hand in a fist.

Suddenly a huge crowd entered the ballroom, the leader of it was Garfield. He had a huge grin and looked more than happy to talk to anybody or answer questions.

At the end of the crowd were Superboy and the disguised Miss Martian. The white alien was smiling, even though it looked a bit forced and tired, while Conner looked like he wanted to go home immediately. All of the Outsiders were surprised how long he’d lasted outside.

M’gann laughed and looked Conner in the eyes "Thank you, you did great out there." She said telepathically.

Conner smiled.

The Outsiders were watching their gentle exchange of love. “God, I need a girlfriend.” Virgil’s never ending whining about that certain topic cut through the silence.

Beast boy quickly spotted the other Outsiders and walked over to them, leaving the group of people behind, a slight bounce to his steps.

He winked “So, how you guys doing? Everything going well?” He straightened out his jacket and brushed of invisible dust off his shoulders.

The team gave each other side eyes and smiled nervously. Bart gave him a thumbs up.

Garfield gave them a half smile “So no too hot?” He nodded once and put his hands in his pockets “Don’t worry, there won’t be any more reporters for the rest of the night, well a few at the opening ceremony and speech of the primer minister, but all we have to do there is smile and nod.”

“Speaking of the ceremony, shouldn’t it be starting soon?” Jaime took a sip of punch.

Tera was staring intently at his lips. “Isn’t it weird to have it on your mouth?”

“Pardon?”

“The mask, isn’t it weird?” She explained further.

Jaime put a finger to his lips “Eh, not really, I mean I can’t really feel it? It’s like a part of me, second skin sort of way.” He tried to explain.

Tara narrowed her eyes “Interesting.”

M’gann and Superboy approached the group.

The Martian put her hand on Garfield’s shoulder “Come on, team, let’s get to the stage, it’s starting soon.”

The Outsiders started to walk towards the stage, it was a small stage, enough to fit them, the primer minister and her husband. The lights were very bright.

They walked over to the security guard, who opened up a crimson coloured rope. The superheroes were staying in a small, separated from the attendees, space. Mostly waiting for the prime minister to call for them on stage.

A crowd of reporters and other guests had already gathered in front of the stage. The prime minister, Giorgia Cancio and her husband, Matteo Cancio were climbing on stage, the guests started clapping.

The politicians smiled in front the microphones and waved.

Giorgia cleaned her throat and the speech started “Thank you everybody for coming tonight, we are more than...”

Soon after she started her speech Bart tuned her out and started looking for other things to occupy his attention with.

Kid Flash looked around the room, quickly noticing a woman in the back arguing with a waiter, well more like yelling at him, he squinted in order to try and read her lips, something about ‘Gluten? Oh! Gluten free...’ he thought.

Bart moved on, he looked up at the big, glass and crystal chandelier, it was glowing in soft yellows and whites. A small, dangling crystal, that was spinning caught his attention for a bit.

His eyes soon landed on Ed, Bart was looking at him out of the corner of his eye. His eyes have been landing on Ed a lot those past couple of months.

The Argentinian was standing beside him, he was looking down, probably at the colourful tiles, that made up the floor, occasionally he would look up at the prime minister.

Bart liked looking at Ed, he had this shine and drive in his eyes, this drive to just be and do good. It was something Bart had soon noticed after spending time with Ed. It was something so beautiful to see. Where Bart had come from (the Future) people’s eyes were dead, given up, moded, they didn’t care about doing good, they just wanted to survive.

It was kinda shocking how that moody kid had grown up into such a compassionate person. He was probably always like that, it was just hidden under all that angst and daddy issues.

Suddenly he didn’t have the desire to look away, he was content like that, just looking at Ed.

Ed absentmindedly licked his dry lips.

A light brush crept across the speedster’s cheeks and a stray thought wandered inside his mind ‘I wonder how they feel.’ He caught himself softly running his finger across his own lips, he quickly dropped his hand and his blush intensified. Bart quickly averted his eyes away and towards the stage, trying to focus on the prime minister.

El Dorado had felt somebody’s gaze on him, finding out it was Bart had made him feel... something... something warm inside his chest, like happiness. He smiled slightly.

“And now for our guests of honor, the Outsiders!” Giorgia introduced them and steeped away from the microphone, while clapping.

“That’s our cue, team.” Garfield started walking up the three steps to the stage.

They all climbed on, the prime minister thanked them one more time while shaking their hands. They took a few pictures with way too happy smiles and got off the stage. It all felt longer than it actually was.

When the crowd had cleared out the prime minister approached one more time, she smiled warmly “I hope you’ve had a good time so far.”

Garfield, as their leader, smiled with all the charm of a famous actor “Of course, Mrs. Cancio, it’s all been wonderful.”

Her eyes softened “Well, the real fun begins now anyway, people always feel way more relaxed after the reporters leave.” She winked at the end.

The woman clapped “Make sure you have fun, this party is in your honour after all!” She bid them goodbye and walked away.

“Well you heard the lady, time to have fun!” Garfield said trying to get his team excited.

They appreciated his enthusiasm and tried to match it, I mean they can stick together, the food was good, the view was beautiful and eventually the soft background music will turn more energetic. All in all, they are sure they can manage.

Ed leaned slightly down towards Bart “Hey, I wanna get a breather out on the balcony? Want to tag along?”

Bart winked with a smile on his face “You know it, amigo.”

Just as they were about to split into small groups, each headed toward a different part of the room, two women and a guy, about 16 or 17 approached them.

The women had an air of authority around them. One of them was taller, with dark black hair and a deep red business suit, the other was shorter and curvier wearing a long, blue dress. They had wedding bands on.

The boy was standing between them, he was tall, half a head taller than Ed, wearing a black suit sporting a dark turquoise tie, he had an undercut and really dark, curly hair. He had a slight tan with a dusting of freckles and bright hazel eyes. His smile was charming, a dimple on each side.

The taller woman smiled kindly “I’m sorry to bother you, but my name is Liliana, this is my wife, Emily and our son Antonio.” Emily smiled brightly.

“Just Toni also works.” Their son supplied, he quickly looked over all the Outsiders, one of them catching his eye.

Liliana continued “I just wanted to thank you personally for saving my sister, Giorgia and her husband. I don’t know what I would’ve done, if I had lost her.”

Her wife put a hand on her shoulder.

“Luckily, that didn’t happen, because of you, so one more time, thank you.”

She shook Garfield’s hand.

The meta human smiled brightly “It’s what we do best.”

“Indeed.” Toni piped up. His arms were crossed over his chest, his smile even more charming than before. The Italian was looking straight at Ed.

The women excused themselves and the Outsiders started to walk over.

Bart and Ed headed towards the balcony.

“Was it just me or was that guy staring at you?” The speedster asked Ed, not quite understanding why that made him so annoyed.

Ed raised his shoulders “Probably not honestly, I mean why would he be looking at me anyways?”

‘Why wouldn’t he?’ Bart thought, still a little bitter at the guy. ‘Maybe I’m just imagining stuff...’

“Excuse me.” A voice cut through Bart’s thoughts.

The superheroes turned around... it was Toni.

‘Shame he had to turn around, he had such a cute butt.’ The Italian thought while looking absentmindedly at Ed.

He had a hand in the pocket of his dress pants. “Sorry to disturb you, but you’re Kid Flash and El dorado, right?”

“Yeah.” The shorter of the two superheroes answered, some definitive dislike in his voice “How can we help you, Antonio?”

‘I’ve never acted like that before, what’s wrong with me?’

Antonio glared slightly at Bart, but only for a split second.

The Argentinian just kind of looked between the two of them.

The Italian cleared his throat “Actually, I also wanted to thank you for saving my aunt.” He gave his hand out for a handshake towards Ed.

“As Beast Boy said, it’s just what we do.” Ed shook his hand.

‘A cute butt and a cute accent! Perfect.’ Antonio was already forming a plan in his head.

Toni’s and Bart’s handshake wasn’t as warm, they looked into each other’s eyes, annoyance clear behind the smiles.

Toni smiled warmly and continued talking “Anyways, Eduardo, can I call you Eddie by the way?”

‘Dude thinks he’s sooo slick’ Bart thought and rolled his eyes.

“I guess so?” Ed shrugged, still not understanding why this guy wanted to talk to him.

The guy grinned “As I was saying, Eddie, before you were a hero, you opened a centre for meta-humans, right?”

“Yeah...” He still didn’t understand where this guy was getting at.

“I’m sure it was so hard to do everything on your own, speeches, counselling, events, setting it up, promotion-“

Ed smiled “Well, I was never really absolutely alone, there were volunteers and Kid flash over here has been helping me since the beginning.” Toni noticed that when Ed turned towards the speedster a warmth filled his eyes.

Bart smirked and looked the Italian in the eyes, pride evident in his.

Toni subtly glared towards Bart, then quickly put on the smile back on his face “Yes, of course... I’m just going to cut to the chase, my mothers own an advertising agency, you might have heard of it before, “L.E. ads”.

Ed was quite surprised “They are one of the biggest agencies working right now, I tried to get them to advertise the new center in Sweden, but they never wrote me back.”

‘Crap!’ Thought Toni “Uh-well, they do get a lot of clients and offers each day, so sometimes, some of them get lost... or buried under the others, please excuse us.” He apologised, even adding a slight bow.

Ed opened his mouth to say something, but Antonio quickly cut him off “What I’m offering right now, is an opportunity to work with us, as you might be aware, we don’t only use regular ads, we also organise events etc. We can organise speeches, billboards, ads on tv and so on.

The Argentinian was truly dumbfounded. “Might I ask, why?”

“My mothers will be more than happy to help the heroes who saved my aunt and uncle.” Toni finished pride all over his face.

Ed looked at Bart with a conflicted expression, then back at Toni “While that is all well and good... I just don’t think we can afford you, no offence, the centre just doesn’t have the resources for such... um... extravagant?... advertising. But, thank you nonetheless.”

Antonio stepped closer to Ed “It will all be free of charge, of course.”

Bart’s annoyance was growing with every word that came out of this Italian prick’s mouth.

El Dorado was quick to retaliate “Oh, no, I’m sorry, we can’t accept something like that.”

“The centre accepts money, food, volunteers and so on all the time right? Think of this as just another form of charity.” He grinned, his eyes shining in a way that unsettled Bart.

“Yeah, but what you’re offering is quite huge, I just don’t think it’s right to-“

“I insist!” Toni had a hand over his chest, it was almost theatrical. His eyes relaxed “Why don’t you join me this evening, we can discuss this over and see if by the end of it, I’ll be successful in changing your mind.” He smirked at the end, confidence dripping from him. He was closer now, definitely entering Ed’s personal space.

At this point the speedster wasn’t just annoyed with this guy, he was angry, really angry... but damn it all, this was a golden opportunity (no pun intended).

The taller of the two heroes looked at Bart and was once again about to deny him, but Kid flash cut him out “You should talk to him, the deal he is making is great.”

“Yes, but-“

“Come on, Ed, think of how much that can help the centre.” Bart smiled, looking Ed in the eyes.

The Argentinian sighed, he’d much rather stay with Bart, than this Italian guy... but such advertising could really help them in the long run... And denying him once more would be quite rude and they are here to make a good impression and all that, he still wasn’t sure about accepting the deal, but he’ll spent some time with the guy, then he’ll politely deny or accept the offer.

“Okay, fine.”

Antonio’s smile grew “Perfect.” He threw his hand on Ed’s shoulder and pulled him away.

Ed said goodbye to Bart.

While they were walking away Toni turned around and looked Bart in the eyes, his grin predatory.

The speedster saw red and was so close to just grabbing the Italian douche and leaving him in Antarctica, instead he turned around and headed towards the balcony. There were a few people already there, smoking and talking. The fresh, night air made him cool down a bit, now he just felt a bit sad.

He leaned against the railing and looked at the garden. ‘What a prick...’ He slumped further down against the cold metal, his chin on it ‘Why am I overreacting so much? It’s just a guy talking... flirting with Ed and... touching him... ughhhhhg!’ The speedster put his hands on his head, annoyed at just feeling so much. ‘Goddamn it, Ed.’

In his sulk Bart didn’t hear another person entering the balcony.

“What’s got you so moded, amigo?” A familiar voice said.

Bart turned around quickly “What? Me? Moded? No way, hermano. I’m feeling A-okay!” For emphasis on how good his mood was, he plastered a big grin on his face.

Jaime raised his eyebrow, his expression sort of exhausted, as if he’s had to do this a million times “Ese, we’ve been friends since like forever, you can tell me, if something’s wrong.” He joined Bart at the railing.

“It just... jeez, Blue, I don’t even know what’s wrong!”

Jaime hummed “Well, trace your steps back, what happened?”

Bart looked away from his fellow Outsider, sulking “Ed...” he mumbled.

“Edu? Why? Did he do something?” Jaime would be quite surprised if he did, considering how close the speedster and Ed had grown.

“No! Nothing like that... he’s just with... some Italian guy.” Bart didn’t know why he felt so embarrassed to admit it out loud.

Jaime had a puzzled expression on his face trying to work it out. “Wait, you’re annoyed ‘cause Edu’s with some guy?” Suddenly it was like a switch flipped inside his head “Dude, are you jealous?”

Bart moved away from the railing like it was scorching hot “Wha-? No! No! I’m not jealous!... well, maybe, I don’t know, okay!” The brunette leaned against Jaime.

Blue beetle thought for a second, then spoke up “Ese, do you remember how I would get when Traci would go out with Arrowette, before we started dating.”

Bart moved away from Jaime and looked him in the eyes “Yeah, of course, you would get all annoyed, mopey and would rant about it a lot.” Bart rolled his eyes at the memory.

A slight blush coloured the latino’s cheeks, he coughed once “Uhm, yeah... yeah, do you remember why exactly I got so uhm mopey?”

The speedster was playing with a loose threat of his suit “Of course, I do, hermano, you liked her.”

Blue nudged Bart gently with his elbow “What I’m getting at is, do you like him in the same way I like Traci?”

The brunette was quite surprised by that question, he’d never really thought about it, I mean, he liked Ed, of course he did... but as more than a friend? He looked his best friend in the eyes “How do you know when you like someone?”

Jaime rubbed the back of his head “Well, jealousy, obviously, but you also want to spent time with them and just being near them feels good. You might imagine what holding hands with them or kissing them or cuddling with them might feel like... you know...” He had grown a little red by the end of it, good thing it couldn’t be seen from under the suit.

Bart’s cheeks very also a bit tinted with colour, because, yeah, he would like to do all of those things with Ed. He chuckled “For a speedster, I’m pretty slow, huh?”

Blue laughed “Yeah, ese, I agree.”

They looked at the scenery before them, it was already dark out, the moon and the stars were creating a beautiful shine on the garden before them.

“You know, I’ve never... liked anybody before... apocalypse and all that, it’s weird, I like the feeling, but it’s a bit annoying being so emotional...” An airy chuckle left him at the end.

Jaime bumped his shoulder against Bart’s “That’s a good way to describe it, hermano. So what’cha gonna do about it?”

“I- I’m not sure, I want to do something about it, just not sure... do you even think I have a chance with Ed?” He was looking at the moon.

Blue shrugged “Well, that’s something you should be asking Edu, you won’t know unless you give it a shot.” He worried his lip with his teeth, then continued “And even if it doesn’t work out, that’s okay, but I think it might. Call it scarab senses.” He grinned at end.

Bart smiled, feeling better, he was relieved now that he finally understood his feeling. ‘I like Ed... there could be worse things, like an apocalyptic future where humanity is entirely controlled by evil aliens.’ He looked at Jaime and smiled “Let’s head inside, amigo, I’m dying for something to eat.”

“Lead the way, hermano.”

The two superheroes entered the room, coming into the too bright yellow light felt a bit blinding. They headed towards the big table filled with little snacks, but came into a sudden halt, when they saw something.

There they were, Antonio and Ed, they both had glasses of punch, Antonio was too close to Ed and chuckling about something, while Ed was smiling politely, the whole image was a bit annoying, but not something too offensive, until Toni put his hand around Ed’s waist and brought him closer whispering something into his ear. He then moved farther away from the young superhero, but kept his arm around his waist.

“Damn, Edu looks like he really doesn’t want to be there.” Jaime supplied, while putting his arm on Bart’s shoulder.

The brunette had defiantly grown annoyed, his almost good mood was crushed faster than the Flash himself. He clenched his fists and huffed. “Blue, can we please go some place else?”

“Of course, hermano.” They hurried over to the other side of the big room.

All throughout the night, Bart would catch glimpses of the annoying Italian and Ed talking and so on, at some point the guy even asked Ed out to dance. At that Bart was quite annoyed, but also just sad and mopey. He just wanted to lay somewhere and not have to think about it. Good thing he was good at pretending everything was fine.

Jaime was a good distraction, the rest of the team as well, while he hadn’t managed to completely take his mind off the situation, it was still okay.

“That Italian guy sure has it out for Ed, huh?” Cassie pipped.

‘Great, my favourite topic.’ Bart thought.

“Yeah, Ed’s probably so done with him by now, probably keeps it up, only for the good media or something. They guy might go whine to his aunt, the prime minister, if Ed leaves him.” Virgil added.

Cassie wiggled her eyebrows “You never know, he might actually like the attention.”

Jaime quickly tried to dissolve the situation “Oh, come on, look at him he looks miserable, right, hermano?” He nudged Bart.

“Yeah, totally.”

Cassie rolled her eyes “Eh, what do you know anyways, the guy’s quite handsome and Ed’s last boyfriend was... actually I don’t know when, has he had one?” She looked at Virgil, expecting his reply.

“Hey, don’t look at me, you know Ed isn’t exactly an open book about his private life or life in Argentina and even if he had told me, maybe there’s a reason he hasn’t told you.” Static pointed at the blonde.

She glared at him “Not cool, man.”

He raised his shoulders.

Bart sighed and Jaime put his arm around his shoulders.

Kid flash looked once again at the general direction where Ed and Toni were, but they were gone, he took a quick look around the room and they were nowhere to be seen.

“They’re gone.” He said while still looking around the room.

Wonder girl grinned, while nudging Virgil in the chest “Maybe they went somewhere to make out.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down.

Virgil gently pushed her away “Thanks for the visual, Cas.”

She winked.

Jaime quickly joined in “Yeah, right, Edu obviously wasn’t interested in the guy. Probably tried to get away, but the dude followed him.”

“Tomayto, tomahto.” Cassie was smiling like she was victorious.

Blue beetle rolled his eyes.

On the outside Bart’s expression was carefree, but on the inside he was a mess of emotions, annoyance, worry, sadness, maybe a bit of anger. ‘Be rational, man. You’re not even dating, calm down... I never imagined, that having a crush could be so moded.’

Static smiled smugly and raised one eyebrow “Why are you so invested in Ed’s love life anyways? Having problems with Tim?”

‘Virgil to the rescue.’ Thought Bart.

Cassie huffed and glared vigorously “I’ll have you know, me and Tim are more than fine!”

Virgil was still grinning while he raised his arms up in mock surrender.

Bart sighed and got lost in thought, drowning out their bickering.

Jaime looked at him, pity clear on his face.

Milan, Hotel Bulgari

April 22, 3:16 GMT+2

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m beat.” Beast Boy said while waiting for the whole team to gather in the lobby, just outside the room, where the event had taken place.

The team had said their goodbyes and well wishes to the prime minister and were more than ready to leave.

The event/party still hadn’t ended, but most people had already left and the young heroes were eager to get out of the uncomfortable suits and fake smiles and into bed.

Almost everybody had come back, only Ed was still missing.

The Outsiders’ night had gone with various degrees of success, some had even talked to a few people without completely embarrassing themselves. Those small victories were not enough to make them stay until the complete end.

Victor had his arms crossed over his chest, he looked completely exhausted “Can’t wait to crash. Hero work isn’t as exhausting as this.”

Superboy agreed and M’gan chuckled.

“Where is Eduardo Dorado Jr.?” Forager asked, he looked nervous.

“Texted him a couple minutes ago, should be here soon.” Virgil looked at his phone.

Cassie bumped her shoulder against Virgil’s “He’s probably still out there with that Italian guy.” Her grin was wide.

“What Italian guy?” Tara asked.

Just as she asked that, a flash of gold shone next to Bart and Ed appeared, looking more than miserable and exhausted and quite angry.

Bart didn’t like seeing Ed like this ‘Haven’t seen that expression in a while.’

Ed sighed “Let’s get out of here.”

Cassie laughed and the group started walking.

Wonder girl grabbed Tara and started whispering to her.

Bart and Ed were at the end of the line.

The speedster spoke up “So, how’d it go with Antonio?” He made sure to say the name as pretentiously as possible and with a thick, fake Italian accent.

The Argentinian laughed, but the tired expression returned to his face quickly after “Don’t even want to talk about it...”

“So, pretty bad huh?”

Ed sighed, he’d started calming down, being around Bart always helped “That’s one way to put it.”

Bart put his hand on Ed’s shoulder.

The taller teen looked him in the eyes and smiled “Thanks.”

They continued their walk towards their rooms in silence.

Milan, Hotel Bulgari

April 22, 12:47 GMT+2

The speedster had woken up not too long ago, he’d fixed himself in the bathroom, then had promptly returned to bed and was scrolling through Flitter. Some of the interviews from the event had come out already and their fans were relentless with how much fun they’ve made out of them.

‘What’d we do to deserve such funny people liking us?’

He continued scrolling, until a picture of Ed from last night popped up. He was smiling, looking straight ahead, his eyes gentle.

Bart unconsciously lingered on the picture a bit longer than needed, then put his phone away and laid on his back. ‘Wonder if Ed’s feeling better since last night... Not being aware of a crush is definitely easier... ignorance truly is bliss.’

He turned away from his phone and looked out the large window, the sky was a lovely blue colour, the superheroes would be leaving soon. They have the rooms until the end of the day.

Just as Bart was growing annoyed with not doing anything, his phone vibrated. He quickly rolled over and grabbed it from the other side of the bed, it was a text from... Jaime.

Bart felt himself flush at the fact he was annoyed by a text by his mejor amigo, but it’s not his fault he was hoping for somebody else.

I’m blue da ba dee da baa DIE: How’s it going? 👀

Kid CRASH: 😑

I’m blue da ba dee da baa DIE: 👍

Kid CRASH: DONT JUST “THUMBS UP” ME

I’m blue da ba dee da baa DIE: What else am I supposed to do?!

Kid CRASH: wyd

I’m blue da ba dee da baa DIE: just finished a call with Traci 💙

Bart rolls his eyes, but in a loving matter, of course he was talking with his girlfriend. He got a bit sad at the end, but quickly averted his attention back to Jaime.

They continued to text about random stuff, until...

Kid CRASH: OMG ED JUST TEXED ME

I’m blue da ba dee da baa DIE: What did he say? Also calm down amigo

Kid CRASH: texted*

Kid CRASH: Just asking wyd and if I wanna hang out

I’m blue da ba dee da baa DIE: say yes?

Kid CRASH: of course I’m gonna day yes

Kid CRASH: say*

Kid CRASH: autocorrect 😑

I’m blue da ba dee da baa DIE: have fun, keep me updated 😎😉

Bart quickly switched to his chat with Ed.

EDgy: Wyd

EDgy: Wanna hang out

EDgy: ???

KA-CHOW: nothing

KA-CHOW: sure, where do u want to meet

EDgy: on this floor’s balcony?

KA-CHOW: see u in a flash ⚡️

EDgy: oof

Bart quickly got up from bed and put on his shoes. He looked at himself in the mirror and slowly left his room, like a regular person slow, annoying.

He had to walk from one side of the floor to the other and what’s worse is he had to do all that walking like a normal person would, because of secret identities and all that...

The speedster reached the balcony, the wall and the door were made completely out of glass. He noticed Ed leaning against the railing and looking down. Bart opened the door and started walking towards the Argentinian.

When he got close he got the urge to wrap his arms around Ed’s waist and pull him close, but quickly dismissed the thought with a slight blush and leaned against the railing next to Ed.

“Hey, amigo!” Bart smiled.

Ed looked at him “Took you long enough.” He teased.

Bart rolled his eyes, still smiling “Well, not my fault you got so used to my superspeed.”

Ed raised one eyebrow “Oh, yeah, like it’s not driving you nuts to have to do everything like a regular guy.”

Bart shook his head from side to side and firmly stated “Not at all, it’s actually refreshing.”

Ed continued to look at him with the same unbelieving expression.

Bart rolled his eyes and pushed himself away from the railing “Okay, a bit.”

He turned away and leaned against the metal, a silence stretched across them.

Bart leaned against Ed playfully then stepped away “A penny for your thoughts?”

The Argentinian looked up, the sun shining softly “Just thinking about last night.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know, man... the guy was just...” Ed’s expression was a mix between disgust and disappointment.

Bart put his hand on Ed’s shoulder “Okaaayyyy, sooo what happened?”

The other teen took a deep breath and looked down at the garden “First of all dude drags me away from you like nobody’s business with his oh-so-generous offer of advertising.” Ed was being satirical, but the annoyance was clear in his voice.

Bart’s heart almost skipped a beat at the ‘you’.

Eduardo continued “So he’s talking and talking and talking... and I’m, over there, trying to get the conversation back to the centre and the advertisements, you know, the thing we were actually supposed to discuss!” At this point Ed’s fist was on the railing.

Bart was listening to every word, his distaste for the Italian growing.

“At the same time he ain’t stopping being all touchy feely, I was trying to be all subtle and stuff, while moving away from him, you know, I didn’t want to explicitly tell him to go as far away from me as possible... because we were here for good press and what not.” The Argentinian was rolling his eyes and pushing himself away from the railing with his hands, his voice was growing angrier and his rant faster.

He leaned once more against the cool metal “The dude was pretending he’s Casanova or something, I thought he was flirting from the start, but I’m not good with the whole are they are they not flirting thing you know?” He turned towards Bart his expression quizzical.

“Oh, he was definitely flirting.” Bart responded immediately, his voice slightly more pissed off then he wanted it to be. His checks quickly turned a light shade of pink.

Ed’s as well, but he also had a small smile for a bit, until he continued with his rant “Anyways so first he drags me to dance which was sooooo annoying, but tolerable, I guess... Oh yeah! And we still aren’t talking about the thing we were supposed to, mind you, it probably has been like an hour, maybe more, it felt like too long...” The superhero was just sounding tired at this point.

Kid Flash rolled his eyes “What an ass.”

“I know right! Anyways finally the douche drags me to the garden and low and behold I finally get him to talk about the advertising! Turns you he doesn’t know anything! And I mean, anything about it! His mothers run the whole thing and he just gets money from them... he had absolutely no intention of helping me! And then he had the audacity to try and kiss me! Can you imagine?!” Ed’s hands were in the air and he was really angry.

Bart swallowed his own anger and asked “So what happened next?”

“Well I moved away and asked him “What are you doing?” Hoping that the awkwardness of the situation would make him leave, how naive of me! I don’t remember what he said, something cringey that sounded good only in his head and afterwards he tried once again.” Ed was talking fast, some words louder, some quieter, but all filled with anger.

El Dorado continued “I was literally saved from the text announcing we were leaving, I told him I was going, didn’t give him a chance to reply and teleported to the ballroom, then noticed you and teleported over there.” He finished his rant with a deep sight and leaned against Bart’s shoulder, resting his head against Bart’s “I just wished he hadn’t wasted my time and kept me from spending the evening the way I wanted to.”

“How did you want to spend it?”

Ed looked away from Bart, blushing slightly “You know, with...you.” The end of the sentence was quieter then the beginning.

Bart was blushing, but there was a smile on his face “I would’ve liked that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

After a beat Bart continued talking “I mean sorry that dude basically lied to try and get into your pants... you deserve better.” He finished awkwardly, his blush intensifying.

Ed’s cheeks also darkened and he smiled “You always make me feel better, no matter what.” He looked straight ahead, the sun high in the sky.

Bart smiled and looked at Ed’s profile for a bit before also focusing on the horizon.

Ed once again leaned against Bart, the speedster slowly put his arm around the Argentinian’s waist and leaned against him.

They watched the blue sky and the sun as it’s beams illuminated the garden, feeling content and happy in each other’s presence.

#bartuardo #zetaflash #eduardo dorado jr #bart allen #el dorado young justice

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notyourmotherscopingmechanisms · 4 years

Text

Water Bottles, Getting Rid of Stuff, and Social Media Goodbyes.

Hi, all.

This is it! Welcome to the first post on this experimental foray into talking about my brain, intentionally, and with a purpose in mind.

The post that led you here (from facebook, instagram, or twitter, if I got my shit together) mentioned that this post would be about the first few things I’ve done since the New Year to try and wrangle my life back into some sense of order, so I’m just gonna jump right into that.

1) I bought a planner.

A real, actual physical paper, honest-to-god planner.

This in and of itself is not much of a shock. I’ve bought a lot of planners in my lifetime, always excited to finally be one of those women—capable, powerful, every moment of their day accounted for in perfect handwriting—and reader, I am absolutely garbage at using them.

So I bought another one. Makes sense, right?

I’ll tell you why: I think I finally figured out why I’m bad at using them.

Every planner I’ve bought in the past has been one or both of these things: a month/week/day view, or an electronic planner (for my iPad.) These...did not work. The use cycle would usually go something like this: Overjoyed with my new beautiful book, I would spend an hour or two dutifully filling out the “month” views with absolutely everything I knew about at the time, and then I’d manage to use it for about a week before I realized I’d been forgetting to write in the “week” portion of the planner. This immediately triggers the guilt—I failed, I wasted part of such a nice book, what was the point, why did I even start....you get the idea. Of course, this is all ridiculous. The book never changed...but now it makes me sad to look at, and angry at myself every time I remember it. I can’t stand to use it anymore, because every time I pick it up, it’s a reminder that, according to me, I suck. So I put it away, and vow to never again buy a planner, or to do better next time. (I wouldn't.)

Then, I read a post a few months ago that my dad sent me (I’ll have to look up the link later and edit this post to add it) that boiled down to something along the lines of “stop trying to do your tasks the way “normal” people do their tasks.” If you have a hard time getting your laundry sorted out because the hamper’s hard to get to, take the lid off the hamper. If making a sandwich is too much work, just eat the parts, no sandwich required. Shit like that. I sat with myself for a few weeks and said to myself, brain, how can I remove obstacles that don’t even seem like obstacles in order to make things less hard?

And then I learned the secret.

Did you know they make planners that are ONLY a month view?

There’s another secret to this process, by the way—but it applies to a lot more than just planners. Through a bit of soul searching (and by a bit, I mean a lot of grumbling about what a materialistic, vain, optics-centered magpie I am at heart) I figured out that I’m at least 80% more likely to successfully use something if it’s pretty. If I love the way it looks, I am excited to be around it. I am delighted to use it. I am sad when it isn’t nearby. So, the month-view-only planner I bought is also covered in small flowers and made from beautiful low-tooth paper that feels good to write on. I also downloaded many, many, many beautiful habit trackers, goal planning pages, and other freebies from bloomplanners.com (they made my work calendar.) Highly recommend.

2) I bought a water bottle.

I am probably the most dehydrated person you know personally at basically all times. I’ve literally gone to the ER with medical issues that, while genuine, were all exacerbated by massive dehydration. It’s not just that I hate the taste of water (even though I do) but also that I just...straight up do not remember to drink. Ever. And when I do remember to drink, I never remember how much I’ve had, what’s left to go, any of that crap.

“But they make apps to remind you!”

“You can log every time you drink!”

YES, CORRECT, but also may I remind you of the above “remove obstacles from my brain” epiphany from three paragraphs ago: if there’s more than two steps (realistically, more than ONE step) to getting from “I drank water” to “I drank this much water, and now have this much left to go to not die”

I won’t do it.

So, I bought myself one of these bad boys. #notanad

The Hidrate Spark is a “smart” bottle that connects to my iPhone and my AppleWatch. Its connected app will remind me through the watch, as well as via pretty glowing lights on the bottle itself, numerous times a day that I need to drink. When I drink out of the bottle, a sensor will record how much I drank, and immediately log that info into my Health App on my phone. The app automatically uses the humidity and temperature at your location, your weight, your height, and real-time activity data from your watch or phone to update how much your water goal is in realtime.

Notice how nowhere in that description in there is there anything I have to do to track my intake and hit my goal besides fill out my info in the app once, fill up the bottle, and drink out of it? Yeah, me too.

I’ve avoided buying this bottle for over a year, because it’s a $60 water bottle, and I have twenty water bottles already, and it’s “techie” and “unnecessary” and “silly” and “excessive” and all those other things people say about smart tech, but goddamnit, and ER bill costs more than $60 and I’ve been there four fucking times for this problem. I talked to my fitness director (I work for a YMCA, so, health and fitness woo) a couple friends, and my doctor about it, and everyone agreed it was a good decision, so I did it. I can’t say if it’ll work or not yet because I don’t HAVE it yet, but I promise to keep everyone apprised.

Also, it’s pretty.

3) I deleted an ass ton of people off my social media.

I’ve never cared much about my numbers when it comes to social media, I’m not in it for those, but I have the same problem with my friends lists as I do with my real life: I add without thought and then people I never talk to, never see, never will see, and don’t have an effect on my life...take up space. I’m very happy for all of them, and I hope they have wonderful lives, but I don't need all of them front and center at all times. Plus, after the year I had last year, a lot of people needed to be let go from my life for my sanity and theirs.

So, on January 2nd, I deleted 160 people from my Facebook friends list, and blocked 7. I thought it would stress me out more—I’m not about the numbers, but I always worry someone will take offense, or be upset. But once I did it, I felt literally, physically, lighter. It hasn’t had any measurable impact yet besides that initial weight-is-lifted feeling, but I know it’s a step in the right direction for my eventual journey towards weaning off a lot of social media platforms. (Did you know facebook is the actual face of evil in the internet age, and we’re all trapped beyond belief?)

4) I cleaned, or cleaned out, everything (and I mean everything) in my house.

This is the biggie! This is it! The goodwill pile is literally taking up every inch of available space in my car!

(This is also one of those “Ooh, it’s embarrassing, I can’t talk about it” moments I mentioned in the original post. Whelp, here I am, talking about it! Cower in fear! Hide in your homes! Real Talk is coming!)

The Marie Kondo bug that bit all of us last year got me in tandem with a few months of violent living situation upheaval. As a result, I tried to go through my belongings with every moving day I went through, and use those hell experiences as motivation to just. Get. Rid. Of. My. Shit. I’d already started on this task a few years ago, but it’s difficult to describe how much....stuff I’d managed to collect in 18-19 years. It doesn’t take much past the first time you and one friend, or just you, have to move everything you own in a single day to go “oh my god I am never doing that again.” But, I know I’ll have to move again, and even if I didn’t...my stuff was stressing me out. The obvious solution was, and is, “have less stuff.”

I go through my wardrobe once a month now and try to get rid of at least three things. If you’ve known me since high school or just after, you might remember the absolutely astonishing size of my wardrobe. I mean, truly ridiculous. I achieved my goal early last summer of “all my clothing must fit inside a single closet” and began extending that to the rest of my life with a general rule of replacing the thought “I need more storage” with the thought “I need less stuff.” Obviously, there are some things that really do need better or different storage, and I’m recognizing that, but I can’t actually describe how much better I feel with...literally probably 70% less stuff than I used to own.

This is an ongoing process in every part of my life, and with the habits I’ve learned and the very particular anxieties that I have (I can’t get rid of this, I might need it one day/that person was so nice to give it to me/someone might get angry if I goodwill it) continuing towards a minimalist outlook will be a path I am on for literally the rest of my life. But it’s a good path—a worthy one—and I’m so absurdly relieved that I’m finally walking on it, regardless of how many stumbles, stops, and starts there might be.

The bonus part of having less stuff is that it’s suddenly way easier to clean your house; which is what I spent all of Saturday and part of Sunday (today) doing. My combined to-do lists* numbered around 72 items, all-told, and I accomplished almost all of them—everything from sweeping/mopping/vaccuming to moving all the appliances in my kitchen out of their spots and cleaning the sides of them. All the laundry got did. All the shelves got dusted. The tub got scrubbed. The fridge got cleared out. My closet got organized. Even my bed got a facelift in the form of a new duvet cover and some swanky king size pillows. We. Cleaned. Everything.

And damn does it feel good to have a clean space. It’s so. Much. Easier. To keep tidied up when I’m annoyed at myself for ruining the room with clutter, or setting something down and not putting it away.* When you have less stuff, everything suddenly has a place...and when it all starts out in that place, it’s way easier to put it back and keep that momentum going.

*/**There is a flip side of this feeling, which is my anxiety this summer beginning to express itself as certain tendencies towards OCD behaviors, but I won’t go into that here. It’ll come up soon enough, but it will need to be another post about that topic specifically and what I did/am doing to work through it. Another post will be about my “listing” and how it works/doesn’t work for me, because these are tandem issues.

I’m sure there’s more than these, but I’m going to stop here.

Mostly because one of my other goals for 2020 is to do better at setting, and sticking to, a routine. (Hey, another post!) That routine involves me being in bed by 11:30PM every day, and awake by 9:30...and it’s 10:44. So for now, goodnight, and I hope this didn’t bore anyone to absolute tears. Even if it did...that’s okay, because this is as much for me as it is for anyone else.

See ya!

#1/12/2020

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do-what-the-knight-tells-you · 5 years

Text

Broadchurch: the short story collections. Part 1

Available over here.

The first book contains four short stories, all of which take place before S2, so if you want to read this, it might be nice before re-watching S2.

1- “The End Is Where it Begins”, Ellie, After S1: how she comes to transfer precints and end up as the traffic cop we see in S02E01.

2- “The Letter”, Maggie, a few days before S2: STruggles with Echo finances, works on a story, thinks about resigning.

3- “Old Friends”, Jocelyn, 10-20 years before S1: insight into her past, her career, her character, Jack Marshall, and what was going on in town around the time Danny and Tom were born.

4- “Over the Side”, Tess, months before S1 (three days into the Sandbrook case): a twenty-four hour window into that case, her perspective on the case, her affair, and Alec’s behavior/character/etc at that time. This is the night Pippa’s body is found, from her perspective.

I’ve included summaries, my notes, excerpts, and other Things Of Interest under the readmore. this book was interesting, short, and very worth the read, for me!

1. Ellie- Between S1 and S2.

“Going back into uniform was Ellie's choice, but it usually means demotion. It’s shorthand for disgrace. As far as Ellie is concerned, the uniform helps. Her collar and cravat help her hold he head up high, and she walks easily in regulation flat shoes. This is a move sideways, not downward; she’s still a Sergeant. Her salary stays the same, and that’s important. Ellie’s staring down the barrel of single parenthood, paying for the childcare Joe used to do for free. Resigning would mean sacrificing her pension, and with a good fifteen years of service left in her, that’s not an option. “But there’s more to it than the money. It doesn’t feel right to go back into CID until Joe’s been sentenced. She’s never told anyone this, but it feels like that way, she’ll be able to put Danny behind her. But going into uniform, that felt right. Ellie understands now what Hardy meant about atonement. [Look! Thinking about him!] by serving another community, she can atone for what Joe did to her own. Leaving the force, taking a sabbatical, all the other things tat people told her to do: none of these was an option. This move is, above all else, a massive /fuck you/ to Joe. Fifteen years, Ellie's been on the force. When he took Danny’s life, he took Ellie's best friend, their community, and her eldest son. She will not let him have her career as well.”

And in the car with her new loudmouth partner: “after ten minutes she finds herself yearning for Alec Hardy’s brooding and sulks. At least he was quiet. She wonders where Hardy is now: under a doctor’s observation somewhere, she hopes, contemplating the salvage of his own career from the confines of a hospital bed.”

In general her new partner is a bit of a sexist good-old-boy who thinks the problem with youth today is the welfare state... She thinks the problem is lack of outreach and enrichment. She is struggling to get everything in line in her life.

Tom’s voice breaks while they are separated. And her heart breaks to have missed that.

She successfully overrides her partner, follows her instincts, and saves a family, some kids, from a domestic situ while on the job… and then falls to fucking pieces after. Realizes she doesn’t have the emotional fortitude to handle cases without breaking, right now. Calls in sick, and then transfers to traffic. “She is bitterly aware of the irony that while she has gained her colleagues’ respect, she now understands that she doesn’t deserve it. It’s either this or leave the force, and then Joe’s won. She is hanging onto her career by her fingernails, marking time until his plea next week. “Ellie has always prided herself on putting people before anything else but life as a black rat is about enforcing the letter of the law, or rather its numbers. She’s reduced to the digits and codes of traffic policing: stopping distances, speed limits, milligrams of alcohol and penalty points. Even her fellow traffic officers, infamous for their pedantry, started calling her robocop after he first shift. “Inside Ellie's locker, there’s a photograph of Tom and Fred before the blast. She marks a tally on the picture’s white border, inky scratches in the gloss, to count down the days until Joe stands in the dock at Wessex County court and says the magic word that will give her back her son.”

Aw hell, Ellie.

2- Maggie- A few days before S2 begins.

Budget cuts are crippling the Echo. Finally, she is ready to submit her resignation in protest, but a story she runs down locally (to do with land use, and, eventually, marijuana), turns out to be leveragable to do some good in town, force some good change, and she figures that's still worth doing, so she'll hang in a little longer.

No mention of Lil, so, still not sure when they broke up/if they are split... oh, and a passing mention of Jocelyn's home. Just, that it is there.

3- Jocelyn- Her story is set farther back, but is fascinating. It's set partially at least twenty, twenty five years pre-S1, and then partially right around the time that Danny Latimer was born.

It's a little window into who Jocelyn was at that time and what she did. Talks about her outlook on her career, her relationship with her mother, her habit of spending no more than four bank holidays a year in Broadchurch, and staying in London, her preference, her work, the rest of the time.

Also, it turns out she represented Jack Marshall and convinced him to plead guilty so that he would get a shorter jail sentence and get back to the Rowena faster, which he did, and then married her.

Jocelyn was quite reserved even then, but they kept in touch and Jack confided in her after the accident that took his son's life and caused their split, that he needed a new place to go... She suggested Broadchurch because she knew the newsstand was up for sale.

The last scene of the short story is her visiting him at the newsstand. She's noticed her vision is starting to go, she's watching the Latimers with their three-day-old baby boy walk along the beach.

There are references to lots of things and folks there in town, throughout the story, the sea brigade, Oliver, the fact that she's lost touch with Maggie long since and she's a bit grateful for that because otherwise Maggie would surely have sniffed out her connection to Jack and outed Jack's past to everyone. Oh, and Ellie is 10 days overdue and fit to burst with Tom and so Beth (Beth and Ellie had become friends in their pre/antenatal classes) had been dropping by with Danny over there, hoping that holding Danny would maybe induce labor.

... and finally.

4- Tess- Day 3 of the Sandbrook case, well before S1

I didn't look ahead, I totally had no idea that this was coming. But this is Tess' side of a 24-hour period from the Sandbrook case. I'm going to sum some of it, and then I'm probably just going to end up posting big chunks of it. Or you can go read it yourself. That's good too. XD

It's April 2012, day 3 after the Sandbrook girls disappear. She and the other DS she's cheating with were getting it on, for what was clearly not the first time, in the backseat of his car. Made a comment about the fact it next time they would take it back to the hotel, doing it in the car was foolish and uncomfortable. Which also seems to imply that this is a regular thing. Tess thinks a bit on the fact that Dave is present with her in a way Alec isn't, though she feels guilty about all of it.

The cheating is a release for her, like other people might smoke a cigarette or go for a run. She knows Alec is really struggling with how close in age Pippa is to Daisy.

"Alec works sixteen-hour days, forgets to eat, and gets angry. She hasn’t seen him since they got the shout two days ago. He’s sleeping on the sofa in his office, if he’s sleeping at all. At least Tess got four hours in her own bed last night and a shower in her own bathroom. Daisy was staying with a friend; Tess and Alec rely a lot on the generosity of friends’ parents in the first few chaotic days of a case. The house was too quiet this morning. It’s strange; Alec can stay away for days and Tess feels nothing but relief, but Daisy sleeping somewhere else feels wrong."

Tess knows what Alec is like on these cases. Her affair with what's-his-face went on much longer than the case itself. I’d guess months, at least, prior to this story.

"She hasn’t seen Alec since last night. Tess hopes he’s not in the office. The chances are small; as Senior Investigating Officer, he likes to work the field as much as possible. They used to work so well together – professionally, at least, she’s never been more compatible with another officer, and that includes Dave – but at the moment she can’t concentrate if Alec’s even in the same building. Dave sits opposite her at work, and Alec’s got the corner office just behind them. Every time he walks past, she shrivels with guilt and with contempt for her husband. Guilt over the adultery, contempt that Alec can’t see it.

[Lends more weight to Hardy’s perception of the affair, as we saw it in the S1 novelization-- namely that it was shameful, that he felt ashamed to have been cheated on. I bet she says/said something nasty, along these lines, and he internalizes it]

“If she and Dave so much as brushed past each other at a crime scene, he’d notice. That’s the problem in a nutshell: the tunnel vision that makes him a brilliant detective means he hasn’t seen Tess – really seen her – in years."

[Oh God, I see where this is going. This is the night he finds Pippa, isn't it?]

‘Where’s Alec?’ Tess asks Chrissie, a fellow DS who’s already got three empty mugs on her desk. Chrissie creases her brow. As always, whenever Tess refers to her husband by his first name, it takes her colleague a few seconds to get who she means. But what else can she call him? She can’t call him Hardy and she’s damned if she’ll call him the boss or the guvnor.

[”Guvnor”? is this a British thing, or personal nickname? if the latter, Ellie would laugh herself sick over it, if she ever found out.]

“Chrissie checks a memo on her screen.

“‘He’s overseeing a fingertip search of the river Sandbrook.’

“‘The Sandbrook?’ echoes Tess. It’s right on the edge of their patch, a slow-flowing river with great stretches straying miles from the nearest road and barely accessible on foot. ‘On what basis?’

“‘On the basis of it’s the only open space left on our ground that we haven’t covered, and there’s still no trace of either girl,’ says Chrissie grimly, her eyes travelling to the clock. Tess flinches at the reminder of how far behind they are, and boots up her computer, not wanting to waste another minute. When Dave comes in, she looks up with a cool hello...”

She thinks about potential leads in the case, she interacts with Dave a little bit, mostly through facial expressions. And then

“Tess is giving Dave one more warning look when his phone rings. His face loses its colour as he listens; Tess pulls out her earplugs but the call is already over.

“‘That was the boss,’ says Dave, pushing his chair away from his desk, car keys in hand. ‘They’ve found the body of a young girl in the Sandbrook.’

“South Mercia University Hospital is across the dual carriageway from the police station, eight storeys of white concrete and foggy windows.

“‘I knew it’d be murder,’ says Dave, as they get into a lift marked STAFF ONLY. ‘I knew from the first shout, but it doesn’t stop you hoping, does it?’

“‘You always hope,’ says Tess. ‘But I can’t remember hoping like this for a long time.’ Dave reaches for her hand and circles his thumb on her palm.

“‘You OK, babe?’ His tenderness melts her, but she can only squeeze his fingers in reply. She can’t afford to soften now. The lift spits them out two floors underground and Tess and Dave walk through a dingy yellow corridor lit with flickering strip lights. It is maybe ten degrees colder here than in the station. This is not the way to the viewing room, where victims’ families see their loved ones still beneath a white sheet. This long walk is for the professionals, the dealers in death. There is nothing beautiful down here: a few laundry bags piled in a trolley, a mop and bucket and a yellow CLEANING IN PROGRESS sign. Tess tries very hard not to think about what gets mopped up down here.

“‘I don’t understand why it’s just the one body,’ she says. ‘Nothing about this case makes sense.’

“‘Just the one body so far,’ Dave corrects her. There’s another fire door ahead; he lengthens his stride to open it for her. Tess isn’t used to these little chivalrous touches. She is astonished to find that she quite likes them.

“‘Did Alec say if he was staying to continue the search?’

“‘He pretty much hung up.’ Dave bites his lip. ‘I’m sure he knows, sometimes, the way he talks to me.’ Tess shakes her head.

“‘That’s how he talks to everyone.’ But she shakes her shoulders, as though to recalibrate her body language, and by the time they get to the end of the corridor, there’s a big space between her and Dave. When – if – they go public, it must be a long, long time after this case has been put to bed. A technician in mint scrubs is waiting behind a glass door; she punches a number into the keypad to let them in.

“‘Five minutes,’ says the technician. Her voice is steady but she looks like she’s been crying. ‘Dr Kendall’s just preparing her now. You can wait up here.’

“Tess and Dave follow the technician on tiptoe up a short flight of stairs. In the viewing gallery, there’s a row of seats, almost like in a cinema, and the blind is down on the panoramic window so it looks like a blank blue screen. There are a handful of flattened paper bags on the table. Waiting for them is Sanjeev, a newish DC. He’s not long out of uniform so he won’t have worked a case like this before. Tess hasn’t spent much time with him, but she knows Alec really rates him. There’s a weird, stale, boggy smell and for a moment Tess retches, thinking it’s the dead-body-rotting smell she dreads so much. It takes her a few seconds to recognise the smell of stagnant river water, and that it’s coming from Sanj.

“‘Sarge,’ says Sanj to Tess. ‘How comes you’re not upstairs with the boss?’ Tess doesn’t bother to hide her confusion.

“‘What’s he doing upstairs?’

“‘Don’t panic,’ says Sanj. Immediately Tess starts to panic. ‘It’s just a precaution. He got into difficulties in the water.’

“Tess is bewildered. ‘What was he even doing in the water?’

“‘He found her,’ says Sanj, dipping his head. ‘Pippa’s body. He carried her out. You know what he’s like, he stalks off on his own, all impatient, no one can ever work fast enough for him. We didn’t even know he’d gone until he’d got her out. He reckons he went under a few times. He took in a lot of water and they’ve got to be careful about it being in his lungs, or Weil’s disease or something.’ Sanj looks down at his feet; he flexes them, and his shoes squelch. Tess is rooted to the spot, horrified at what Alec must have been through today. She is torn. Instinct urges her to go and check on him; after fourteen years of marriage, you can’t just turn off the concern like a tap. But he’ll be in good hands. He probably won’t even want her, he hates being fussed over. And with him indisposed, she’s the senior officer.

“She’s still debating with herself when the blinds go up and the theatre is revealed in all its spot-lit, chrome glory, and there, splayed on the slab is— Tess’s vision blurs. There’s a whole team of people, but the pathologist and his team, in their scrubs, are reduced to green blobs. Tess can’t look at anything but Pippa Gillespie’s body. It doesn’t look human. It has been completely bloated by the water; her face is swollen and grey, her limbs pasty and distended. Water has matted her hair and dirt outlines her nails. Tess thinks of the picture they have on the board, that perfect little girl, playing tennis, golden skin, long brown hair, and it is all that she can do to stand. She’s seen bodies destroyed by water before, but never one this young. Tears try to push their way out of her eyes but Tess pushes back harder. She’ll cry later, in front of Dave, but she won’t fall apart in public. She gives silent thanks that Pippa can be identified forensically. Her mother will never have to see her like this.

“She steps up to the microphone, forcing her voice to hold steady.

“‘DS Tess Henchard,’ she says. ‘Is there anything you can tell us just by looking at her?’ Dr Kendall looks up to the gallery and nods hello.

“‘Only that she’s been in the water for at least two days.’ There’s a tenderness in his voice at odds with the gleaming surgical instruments in the tray behind him. ‘So that narrows down your time of death, I suppose. As for the cause … I’ll be frank with you, Sergeant. There’s no obvious wound. Water covers death’s tracks. It gets into the body through the orifices and starts decomposing from the inside as well as out. It affects the tox report. We will work quickly, and to the highest standard, but I can’t guarantee that we’ll find the cause of death. Let’s talk in the morning.’

“‘Christ.’ She pushes the heels of her hands onto closed eyes, but the image of Pippa’s face is imprinted on the back of her eyelids. She looks to the door; she ought to check on Alec, for form’s sake as much as anything. Dave doesn’t need to be told what she’s thinking.

“‘I’ve got this,’ he says. ‘You go to him.’ It is possibly the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for her. He places a hand on her arm, a light gesture but it’s not lost on Sanj. Tess notes his double take, then watches as the horror below wipes the suspicion from his mind, for now at least. She leaves Dave and Sanj to watch the post-mortem.

“In the lift, her legs go. She has pulled herself to her feet by the time she gets to the front desk. The receptionist points her towards Accident and Emergency. Tess concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other, reading the signs, breathing through her mouth, and trying to close her mind’s eye to the sight of Pippa Gillespie’s body, but the image is imprinted on her for ever. Her badge helps her to jump the queue – she can’t help thinking she gets more respect from the triage receptionist as a Detective Sergeant than she would as a wife – but it still takes her the best part of an hour to find out that Alec has discharged himself. She boils with rage – if he’s gone back to the scene with his health in tatters, she’ll kill him. She asks to see the registrar who treated him; another half-hour wait.

“She calls Daisy, who’s still at Molly’s. They’re lucky she’s popular. If she has dinner with a different friend every night, that can take them ten days into a case. After that, repeat requests usually get awkward. This time, though, everyone knows the case they’re working on. Friends are falling over themselves to have Daisy for the evening, offering sleepovers, weekend shifts, school pickups. ‘Whatever helps you find those girls’ is the phrase they hear again and again. Tess hopes the goodwill continues into the murder inquiry. Lately, she’s been wondering if the hospitality would extend to a single mother trying to juggle shifts around work and a new relationship.

“‘It’ll be a little while yet,’ says Tess. ‘Home in time to see you to bed, though.’ ‘Have you found her?’ says Daisy. She has become fixated on Pippa Gillespie; she knows they’re the same age, and she can see what the case is already doing to her parents, three days in. Tess feels a pang for the innocent days when Daisy thought that all they did was direct traffic. Tess and Alec naturally never tell Daisy anything before it’s released to the media. ‘Not yet, sweetie,’ she says. ‘Be good for Molly’s mum.’

“Eventually, the registrar comes in, a young man smelling of coffee and sweat. There’s a comet of blood on his white coat. ‘Mr Hardy discharged himself against my recommendation,’ he says. ‘I’m telling you because I’m concerned for his health. Physically, he was fine. I mean, the water doesn’t seem to have done any lasting damage. But he’s suffering from acute stress, and there are more tests we’d like to run. With anyone else I’d recommend that he take time off work, but …’ He spreads his hands. Tess doesn’t know whether he’s implying that the case is more important than one man’s health, or whether he’s simply got the measure of Alec already and knows his advice would fall on deaf ears.

“There’s a voicemail on her phone from Alec’s second in command, DS Beauman, wishing the boss well and telling him that they’ve got SOCO in now. Alec hasn’t gone back to the crime scene. So where is he? Alec is not at home and he’s not answering his phone. Tess sees Daisy off to bed and opens a bottle of red. She searches Google maps on her iPad, scrolling up and down the length of the Sandbrook looking for patterns, clues, inspiration, until she feels dizzy.

“She calls the incident room; Sanj answers and immediately asks after Alec. So he’s not there. Dave’s working the scene at the Sandbrook; she texts him to see if Alec’s turned up, then again to see if they’ve found anything new. Both questions come back negative. She deletes the message thread out of habit even though this time there’s nothing incriminating.

“She’s really starting to worry now. This disappearance is completely unprecedented. She pictures him collapsed behind the wheel somewhere en route to the Sandbrook, and she works herself up into a fury. For all his dedication to his job, he neglects what ought to be his number one priority: making sure he’s in good enough health to do it. There’s real fear under her concern, though, and she’s about to call the hospital when she hears his car on the driveway. It’s 10 p.m.

“As his key turns in the door, she’s waiting for him in the hall. The sight of him makes her stagger. He’s wearing a grey tracksuit, the police-station-issue kind they give to people whose clothes have been seized as evidence. The trousers are too short and his ankles are exposed, making him look ridiculous. His hair is plastered down.

“She stopped touching Alec a while ago--”

[Oh god, I remember that comment in the first novelization, that Miller is the first person to take his hand in so long he couldn’t remember...]

“-- it started to feel like betraying Dave-- and he doesn’t seem to have noticed, or to miss it.”

[Oh God.]

“She hesitates before going to hug him, and when she opens her arms, Alec folds his and shakes his head. Dave wouldn’t do this, is her first reflex thought.

“‘Where’ve you been? she asks. It was supposed to come out concerned but it sounds derogatory.

“Alec pinches the bridge of his nose. He closes his eyes nd lets them stay that way. ‘Driving.’

“It’s five hours since he discharged himself from hospital. The thought of him going round and around the ring road in these clothes tugs at the leftovers of her love.

“‘Oh, Alec. What about your clothes?’

“He nods to a clear plastic bag on the doorstep. INside, weeds are wrapped around clothes so muddied that Tess has to think back to what he was wearing when he left for work this morning. His new blue suit. They’ll have to throw it out. Even if the can get it clean, she knows he’ll never be able to wear it again.

“When he pushes past her into the house, Tess can smell the soap from the police station showers on him.

“‘D’you wan to talk about it?’ She pours Alec the last of the wine. He looks into its dark red surface like he’s seeing through it into something else.

“’I saw her in the mortuary,’ says Tess, ‘It must have been awful for you.’ Alec doesn’t even blink. Dave or no Dave, Tess recognises a man who needs human touch. She puts her hands on his shoulders. When they first got together, she used to massage his shoulder blades at the end of every day, feeling the knots unravel under her fingers.

[An interesting detail.]

“He used to say she had the magic touch, that no one else could relax him like she did. Now, he shrugs her off.

“‘ I’m going to check on Daisy.’

“Tess follows him upstairs and they stand at Daisy’s open bedroom door for a while. She is asleep under a garland of IKEA fairy lights, watched over by a peeling Taylor Swift poster. The tweenage sneer she wears all day has vanished. Her lips are an open rose; her brow is smooth. The difference between their perfect sleeping daughter and the deformed corpse of Pippa Gillespie hits Tess in the guts.

“‘Is she breathing?’ Alec asks suddenly, an octave higher than his usual register. ‘I can’t see her moving.’ Before Tess understands what’s happening, he’s kneeling at Daisy’s bedside. He used to do this when she was a baby, leap out of bed to check she was still alive. Tess had completely forgotten about it until now.

[That’s interesting, does he have past trauma with stuff like that? seems like he already had dead-kid PTSD BEFORE he went into the river after Pippa Gillespie. poor sucker...]

“’She’s not moving!’ He puts his hands on Daisy’s shoulders.

“’Alec, stop it!’ Tess keeps her voice to a whisper even though his was a shout, but it’s too late, he’s already shaking her awake. Daisy’s body flops, but her eyes snap wide.

“‘Daddy, what are you doing?’ She says, as Alec pulls her into a clumsy embrace and buries his face in her nightie.Tess doesn’t have enough hands as she tries to pull him off and calm Daisy at the same time.

[LET THE MAN HUG HIS DAUGHTER]

“In the end, she has to tug at the collar of his tracksuit top. The pressure on his windpipe seems to knock the panic out of him, and he lets Daisy go.

“‘Out,’ snarls Tess.

“‘I’m sorry, darling.’ Alec walks backwards towards the door. ‘I just needed to make sure you were OK.’

“It only takes Tess a couple of minutes to soothe Daisy back to sleep; she’s confused rather than frightened, still young enough that a few soft words from her mother can chase the monsters away, and Tess hopes that in the morning they’ll be able to dismiss it as a bad dream. She waits until Daisy’s breathing regulates, tucks a stray lock of hair behind her daughter’s ear, and tiptoes out onto the landing.

“Alec sits in the half-dark like a little boy, his knees pulled up to his chest, leaning against the wall as if he has slid down it. Tess kneels next to him on the carpet. His eyes glitter.

“‘I can still see her face,’ he says. He holds out his arms in front if him, palms upwards, elbows bent. ‘I can still feel the weight of her.’ Tess pulls him against her shoulder; he resists for a moment, then collapses and weeps into her neck. This time when she reaches around and starts to work on the muscles in his shoulders, he lets her. His back feels like a sheet of metal; she keeps going until her fingers ache and she starts to feel bone and sinew under his sweatshirt.

[How is this man constantly portrayed/described as looking like he is shit warmed over, and yet he is one of the most compelling/interesting/attractive characters Tennant has ever played???]

“When Tess shifts position, Alec seems to gather himself, like he’s let out exactly the amount of emotion that was clouding his judgement, and not a drop more. He doesn’t move his head from her breast, but there’s an edge to his voice that almost thrills her.

“‘We’re no longer dealing with a missing persons inquiry. We know where we stand now. We’ll get this.’ Without warning, he leaps to his feet. ‘We know who we’re dealing with now. A monster, someone who can leave a child to rot in a river.’ He starts to pace, his ridiculous bare ankles going backwards and forwards in Tess’s eyeline. ‘This is what we trained for, isn’t it? to get justice for families like this.’

“His new confidence is infectious. Tess often forgets, in all the frustration of living with Alec, what a brilliant detective he is. Or rather, she forgets why he’s so good at his job. It’s the quality that first attracted her to him, that pure, almost old-fashioned belief that good can vanquish evil.

“He is a good detective because, underneath it all, he is a good man.

“It’s going to make leaving him so much harder.”

...

Ouch.

See you next time!

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